Work Text:
A Gentle Touch.
Clementine had been baking for a few hours now, since the early hours of this morning, and already, there stands a plate, piled high with soft, buttery sugar cookies and a pan of gooey, sweet cinnamon rolls. The gently browned tops of the buns have already been glazed with a rapidly melting sugar-butter sheen and now wait patiently to be dressed in a sinfully thick layer of cream cheese frosting. And pushed to the corner of the counter is a large mixing bowl, a shower cap fitted to the lip as the dough inside prooves and swells, promising a delicately crisp-crusted and fluffy bread once it takes its turn in being baked.
It wasn’t often that the baking urge hit Clementine so strongly, but when it did, Violet was never one to complain. She has a notorious sweet tooth, one that had already seen her sneak a cookie while still too warm and burn the roof of her mouth, though the blonde had simply laughed off her injury and her lover’s scolding and stuck her finger into the frosting bowl, scooping up a generous dollop of the thick, creamy coating into her mouth to soothe her burned palate as she grinned wickedly at the brunette and chuckled low in her throat as the younger girl swatted her.
Now Violet stands before the kitchen sink, up to her elbows in hot sudsy water, having been drafted into washing the dishes as her penance for her theft and totally worth it if you were to ask her. Stacking the final plate into the draining rack and flicking her wrists, she scatters crystal droplets back into the sink before wiping her hands on the dishtowel and tossing the damp fabric onto the counter behind her. She then saunters, unhurried, over to the curly-haired girl as said girl tugs the bowl of dough over to her and prods at the puffed up ball, a gentle frown creasing her brow.
“Looking good?”
Eyes of liquid amber glide over to the blonde, making an obvious pass over the slender build and gently understated curves as Clementine’s mouth perks up at the corner in a lopsided grin before she turns her attention back to her dough.
“You always look good.” She purrs slyly, watching how the dough jumps back into shape after her final prod. “Looking better than good seeing as you’re barely dressed. You look kinda naked.”
Violet pauses and glances down at herself. A thin white tank top is stretched over her torso, fitting itself snug to the flat of her belly and the modest curve of her chest and her lower half is wrapped in powder blue, light cotton short-shorts that sit low on her hips, the legs just barely covering the joining creases between her thighs and pelvis. Shrugging Violet slipped in behind her girlfriend, her arms hanging loose and limp around her waist and her chin resting on the pretty girl’s shoulder as she inhales the warm scent of both Clementine and the baked goods.
“Too hot to get dressed while you’re putting the oven through its paces.” Her lips brush against the soft mocha skin, leaving soft kisses trailing along a slender neck. “Besides, it’s not like I’m actually naked. I’m wearing what I’d normally wear for bed.”
Clementine tilts her chin, allowing Violet’s mouth to roam the curve of her neck and shoulder, trapping a soft sighing mewl behind her teeth. “Might as well be naked with how thin that top is. And I can tell that you’re cold. I can see your nipp- hah! ” Clementine inhales sharply and rolls her shoulder away from Violet’s mouth, wincing against the sting of sharp teeth that had just pinched her skin. “Okay, ow. No teeth, Vi.”
The blonde ducks her head down and presses her face into the back of Clementine’s shoulder, muffling the small and pouty lilt to her smokey voice as it floats to the brunette’s ear.
“You were picking on me. We’ve not had a weekend off together for weeks and I just wanted a duvet day with you. But-” Violet sweeps her hand around the kitchen, gesturing toward the pans and plates of baked treats and the dough still waiting to be rolled before she wraps her arm back around Clementine’s hips. “-you got up at ass-crack of dawn and have been baking ever since. I’ve been lonely.”
Clementine twists partly around in Violet’s arms, allowing her to lean back against the slender frame and press a tiny kiss to the blonde’s cheek. “I thought you liked it when I bake.”
“I do.” Violet’s arms tighten around Clementine’s waist, drawing the curvier girl’s ass flush to the cradle of her own more narrow hips and gently sways them both together in a slow rhythm that only she seems able to hear. “Just prefer it when you bake for like an hour or two after I get my morning snuggles.”
Chuckling softly, the brunette pats at the slender hands holding her and leans further back against her girlfriend’s athletic form, enjoying the quiet moment of their two bodies simply swaying together.
“You’re such a softy, Vi. And that’s why I love you.” Soft lips peck a tiny kiss to the corner of the blonde’s mouth as the brunette’s warm voice chuckles low in her throat. Amused when Violet leans forward, chasing the kiss, seeming to expect a deeper touch than the chaste affection offered. “So, which do you want? Loaves or rolls?”
For a moment Violet is quiet, her pale peridot eyes blinking slowly. The abrupt switch of topics stalls out her thought process and she simply stands there, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly until her brain kicks itself back onto its tracks. “Uh, rolls?”
“Okay, rolls it is then. Now, flour up.” Again, Violet blinks slowly at the instruction and doesn’t move, not even when Clementine wiggles her way out of her grasp and begins dusting the counter with a thin layer of flour. She’s still frozen even when the brunette claps more flour onto her hands. Limpid pools of tawny gold slide to peer over at the unmoving blonde as Clementine coaxes the dough to release from its upturned bowl and plop heavily to the work surface, a little plume of white rising into the air. “Vi, flour your hands so you can help me punch this dough into rolls without it sticking to you. The sooner they bake, the sooner we can snuggle.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
As Clementine rolls and stretches the dough ball through the flour she lifts her eyes to peer up from beneath her lashes, stifling her chuckle as she catches Violet’s nose wrinkling in distaste as she takes and gingerly sprinkles the tiniest amount of the powder over her fingers.
“You’re gonna need more than that.” The brunette instructs with a gentle laugh as she punches the heels of her hands into the tacky ball, stretching the mass out again before she folds it over itself and repeats the motions. Laughing a little harder when Violet’s nose scrunches up deeper, her brow crinkling. “It’s just flour, Vi. It’s not going to hurt you, and I don’t want to have to hear you bitching about having to unclog dough from the drains again all because you’re too prissy to get your hands dirty and it got stuck to you.”
With heat licking at her ear tips and a scowl furrowing her features, the blonde plunges her hands into the bag of flour, only withdrawing her limbs once they are thoroughly coated white all the way to the middle of her forearms.
“There!” She grumbles, holding her arms up for Clementine’s scrutiny. “Am I floured enough? Or should I just tip the whole bag out and roll around in it?”
Picking up the dough cutter lain neatly to the side and quickly dividing the worked over dough into twelve even portions, Clementine simply grins, ignoring her grumpy lover’s complaints as she gestures to the pieces nearest the blonde.
“Roll those into balls -” She then gestures to the parchment paper lined baking tray waiting between them. “- and then place them on the tray. Don’t let them touch. They’ll swell and connect when baking, so try to keep them about an inch apart.” Rolling one chunk herself as an example, Clementine placed the newly formed roll on the tray and smiled softly. “See? Just like that.”
Rolling her eyes, Violet sets to shaping her first two dough balls, plopping them onto the parchment paper haphazardly when she’s done. Mildly irritated when the brunette leans over and prods her efforts into neater rows, the blonde sighs and snips. “I know how to handle balls, Clem-”
Immediately hearing what she’s just said, Violet’s green eyes widen as they slide over and catch the merry twinkle in Clementine’s own gleaming eyes, causing the older girl to groan and cuss under her breath for not catching her mistake sooner. Once again, her temper has gotten the best of her, and now all she can do is simply stand there, braced for the teasing she knows is coming the moment that she’d caught Clementine’s raised eyebrow and knowing smirk.
“Really, Vi? I didn’t think handling balls was something you’d swing for.”
“Oh, my God, stop picking on me! You know what I meant.”
For a moment, Clementine is silent, her focus firmly on rolling the next three of her own dough pieces into smooth, round shapes. Then her mouth twitches up and her head tilts coyly toward her girlfriend. “Sooooo, whose balls have you been handling and when?”
The groaning, frustrated response from the blonde is expected and instantaneous.
“Okay, y’know what? I’m done!” Abandoning her last few pieces, the blonde turns smartly on her heel and stalks from the small kitchen, not even bothering to wash the flour from her skin. “All I wanted was to spend a nice, lazy Saturday with my girlfriend. Eating cereal and watching trash movies in our pyjamas, but instead, I’m being bullied and harassed by that very same, very mean girl. So I’m gonna go back to bed.”
“Vi, don’t be like that,” Clementine calls after the retreating blonde. “I was just teasing, don’t be mad at me.”
But the blonde doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn around. She just leaves the kitchen without another word and leaves the brunette with a conundrum; should she finish baking the rolls and let Violet sulk alone, or should she follow her moping girlfriend and let the dough go to waste?
With a sigh, Clementine quickly finished rolling the last of the dough and shoves the baking tray into the oven, nimbly setting the timer before she rinses the flour off of her hands. If Violet was already as pissed at her as she seemed to be, then a few extra minutes of her sulking would barely be noticed. Besides, Clementine knows how the older girl hates waste and they weren’t exactly rolling in financial comfort, what with her part-time bakery work already supplementing the paltry wage that her freelance photography and Violet’s electrician's apprenticeship barely bringing home enough to cover the bills.
After wiping her fingers on the dishtowel, followed by a quick and instinctive swipe of her palms against her thighs, Clementine jogs out of the kitchen and into the living room. Her sights set firmly on the bedroom door that was shut tight at the other end of the room and the moody girl she assumed to be waiting behind it. She was so focused on reaching that door and throwing it open that she completely missed the ripple of a shadow, tucked neatly behind the kitchen door, lurching toward her.
The shadow glides in step behind her and escapes her notice right up until the moment she felt firm arms wrap around her chest, caging her against another warm body with her back pressed flush to someone’s front. She manages to swallow her startled squeak, at least at first, but when the hands came up and long fingers curls around her breasts, Clementine’s stifled little timid sounds swell into an indignant squeal.
“These are ‘whose balls’ I’ve been handling.”
“Holy crap, Violet!”
“Well, they’re not quite balls, but they are soft like the dough.” The rasp in Violet’s voice purrs smoothly against the brunette’s ear, the blonde’s warm breath stirring up the tiny, wispy curls that framed Clementine’s face. Then the purr becomes a rumble, a dark and throaty chuckle low in the blonde’s throat. “And I’m still all floured up, so you won’t stick-”
“Oh, my God! Vi! No!” Clementine’s giggling protests catch in her throat as she wriggles and writhes against her girlfriend’s grasp. Squeaking breathlessly when the fingers on her chest flex, kneading soft flesh firmly until the younger of the two manages to swivel around in the warm arms so that she was standing nose to nose with her lover. “I like this shirt and your messy hands are making it dirty.”
The corner of Violet’s mouth perked, flashing a lop-sided grin before pecking a kiss to the tip of the honey eyed girl’s nose. “I like that shirt too -” Dilute eyes of watercolour green drop to inspect the powdered palmprints that engulfed Clementine’s chest. Her little grin widens into a playfully dangerous smirk as she leans close and whispers. “- but I really, really like those pants.”
Clementine’s brow scrunches up in confusion and her nose wrinkles as she puzzles through the cryptic message hidden in the blonde’s words. She’s wearing simple yoga pants, not anything particularly dressy, but the comfortable elastic material does fit snug to her curves. And then her eyes widen, flames comprehension igniting in a flash of liquid gold just as Violet’s hands dart down to close around her ass and squeeze. Ter resulting yelp of outrage mingles with the blonde’s hum of laughter as Clementine works her hands between them and pushes back against Violet’s shoulders. Her rapidly darkening scowl drags as she meets the older girl’s slow withering amusement with a glare.
“Violet,” Clementine says coolly, her tone overly patient and calm. “I suggest that when you let go, you run. You run fast! Because, when I catch you -and I will catch you- I’m gonna be all up in your ass.”
Violet swallows thickly, her mouth suddenly dry and her throat tacky. The threat wasn’t a serious one. She knows that. She can see the playful glint that shines in Clementine’s eyes. But she also knows just how driven her younger lover can be and she has no doubt that when Clementine catches her -and she agrees, the brunette will catch her- she will face some sort of repercussion.
So Violet instinctively hauls Clementine flush against herself, captures her lips in a deep and heated kiss, her tongue slipping between gasp parted lips as her long, nimble fingers squeeze and knead the firm ass one more time before the blonde ducks herself around the stunned brunette and makes a break for the bedroom-
- only to have the wind knocked out of her a few moments later, when she draws alongside the loveseat and Clementine pounces onto her, sending the pair tumbling onto the soft cushions. Their combined weight thumps down with enough force to send the decorative throw pillows scattering to the floor as Violet lands first, face down, with Clementine perched neatly on the gentle curve of her ass. Her knees straddle either side of the blonde’s hips, pinning her down as her fingers mercilessly attack Violet’s ribs and sides in a flurry of firm skips and prods.
“N-no! Clem! Come on, no tickling…” Violet’s pleading comes accompanied by embarrassingly loud and high giggles and frantic squirming. “You know I’m ticklish and you know I hate it!”
“You’re right, I do.” Clementine grins back. Her lips pull wide when the pads of her fingers catch on the rising paths of gooseflesh that maps over pale skin, and her wickedly dexterous fingers scamper around the girl’s narrow waist to circle the shallow dip of Violet’s bellybutton. “But you have the cutest little giggles and I love hearing them.”
“I do not! ” Violet ‘harrumphs’ moodily into the couch cushion, burying her face just in time to muffle a fresh peal of giggles as the fingers find a new sensitive spot to mercilessly assault. Giggling was a sound that Violet would never admit to making and she would stubbornly deny it to her dying breath, despite the fact she was indeed breathlessly giggling at this very moment. “Please, Clem, no more. I surrender! I surrender!”
“You do?”
“I do, Clem! I do, I do. Please.”
Triumph flashes in shining discs of topaz, igniting the golden flecks into a predatory gleam as Clementine shifts over her prone lover, leaning down to press a dark little kiss behind Violet’s ear as she whispers in a low and sultry tone before pressing trailing kisses downwards from ear to nape. “I win?”
“Yes.” Violet murmurs quietly, shivering against the tickle of breath that swathes over her nape and the sudden thrilling feeling that churns low in her belly with the first scrape of teeth and lips between her shoulders. “You win. I- hah! ”
Violet’s voice shrivels in her throat, caught in a gasp when Clementine’s lips return and press to the back of her ear and then it rises to a shivering whimper when she feels sharp little teeth worrying against the edge of the sensitive cartilage shell.
And then, when she feels Clementine’s hands close around her hips, palms cupping and fingers coaxing her to twist, the blonde complies without hesitation. Shifting and twisting around until she lay on her back, face-up, beneath the brunette. Whirlpools of greens and greys peering up shyly through short lashes and drifting through the galaxies of golds and browns gazing back as fingers lace together, clasping hands held down amid the scattered ash-blonde strands that halo around Violet’s head.
Clementine leans in a little closer until their foreheads touch and her lips brush against Violet’s. The touch is neither innocent nor demanding but a tease, a slow and passionate promise. A soft and comforting taste that leaves the blonde breathless and needy and chasing after the contact as the brunette retreats, simply to find herself only able to curl a short distance before a sharp pang in her shoulders reminds her of how Clementine has her hands pinned.
For a moment it’s all Violet can do to focus on her breathing. Her half shuttered eyes staring up helplessly as Clementine grins down at her.
“If I win, then I should get to choose my reward,” The younger girl teases. Her head ducks to fit her lips to the sharp line of Violet’s jaw, the edge of Clementine’s mouth curling higher as the blonde lets out a soft and breathy whimper.
She hums her approval as the pale and slender body writhes and bucks and presses up from beneath her, reminding the brunette of their compromising positions. “It’s only fair.”
Violet swallows hard, her voice is shaky as she squeaks against the fingers creeping under her shirt and along her ribs. “F-fair… yes.”
And then the roaming fingers are gone from beneath her clothing and are wrapping around her wrists instead, tugging the blonde to her feet as the brunette claims her lips in a firm and less than innocent kiss.
“Good. Then you go get your floury ass into the shower and wait for me in the bedroom once you’re cleaned up.” She purrs softly, her golden gaze heating as she eyes the rise of colour that pinks Violet’s cheeks and watches how the blonde’s throat bobs in quiet excitement when the brunette adds suggestively. “And then you can show me all of your ball kneading skills and maybe I can give you a few pointers on how to improve your technique.”