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English
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Published:
2018-01-29
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1,853
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1/1
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Of Drunken Confessions and Forgotten Relationships

Summary:

A night out with Rhona was what Vanessa had said. It hadn't been in Charity's plans, she'd visioned a night curled up in each others bodies and some form of sexy lingerie.

What she got, however, in the end, was all worth it.

Notes:

I blame my work husband for imparting this headcanon on me in the last hour of shift whilst we had our daily Emmerdale rants.

I love tossing my hat into this fandom. Vanity is everything.

I've never written Vanity so I'm still trying to get to grips with the characterisation. Hopefully my own Yorkshire roots will help me along.

I simply had to get it out of my mind, hopefully you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Seeing Vanessa this drunk was very much a rarity. Despite the notion that Charity owned fifty percent of the Woolpack and spent most of her days their, it wasn’t every night that Vanessa would stumble back into their home, through their front door, absolutely half-cut. Her legs were useless to her at this point, they were doing very little to keep her upright as Vanessa entered the room walking into every obstacle that was in her way.

‘Easy there Babe’.

Charity just couldn’t help the teasing lilt in her tone, to see Vanessa like this over her usual punters was an offer she would take every day of the week as she sat perched on the sofa in the living room. This drunken stupor would no doubt offer her so much joy and delight.

Prior to the interruption of her girlfriend, she was enjoying a relatively tame evening by her own admission. She was originally planning a night on the sofa at Tug Ghyll, on opening a bottle of wine and eating Chinese food take out whilst she cuddled up into her better half watching each other rather than the drivel that was on TV these days. They would’ve fumbled around, moved upstairs to the comfort of Vanessa’s bed and awoken wrapped in each others arms before spending an unspecified amount of time simply enjoying the presence of each other before they even attempted to get up, or before Johnny woke them in the morning demanding his cereal and more so, their attention. The relative normality of their relationship still baffled her, it was something she wasn’t used to despite all of her previous relationships and marriages.

However, on arrival at her petite girlfriends house, she was quickly informed of Vanessa’s own plans for the evening, plans that involved much harder spirits than wine and a quote ‘much needed night out with Rhona’. Something about Paddy that she had little interest in. It was an opportunity the Vets claimed that they couldn’t miss, and it ultimately left Charity on her girlfriends sofa, watching over Johnny, albeit she did still get to enjoy her bottle of red even if her night took a slight detour from her original plans.

Up to that point, she had spent the evening playing around with Johnny, playing around with his toys, making a fort for the young boy to play around in, before he fell asleep in her lap whilst watching Paw Patrol. After taking him up to his room, his little hands clutching onto her hair for dear life, she tucked him into his bed. In that moment she felt so content, but if Johnny ever spoke of it to his mother she would surely deny everything, she has a reputation to uphold after all.

Why Vanessa thought a night out with Rhona was more appealing than a night on the sofa after Johnny had been put to bed, feeling each other up before moving upstairs to their bedroom, was beyond her. Hotton, however, was apparently of greater appeal this evening than her lacy lingerie and seductive curves.

Charity knew that Vanessa held a specific fondness for Rhona. They had been through so much together over the years, arguably closer to sisters than friends. Undoubtably, therefore, and from previous experiences with the pair when they were out, the night will have been full of alcohol, shenanigans, and debauchery.

‘Chatty’, she grinned. The humour catching her smile as she realised how she had said her girlfriends name. The smirk was lopsided and did nothing to hide her intoxicated state.

Oh god, Charity thought, as she rose and began walking towards her other half from the sofa. She’s turned into Johnny in her drunken state.

Despite this, however, she couldn’t resist kissing Vanessa at the side of lips, wincing ever so at the overwhelming scent of Tequila her girlfriends was giving off. She was in control of her senses and her reflexes (unlike Vanessa in this moment), but the aroma she was currently receiving could have quickly thrown her out.

One thing Charity did account for, however, was how affectionate her girlfriend was when she got like this. Her arms were quickly around Charity’s waist in seconds, it was almost instinctive once Charity had entered her personal space. What she didn’t account for was Vanessa’s previously unrealised strength. Her hands are warm and soft, clutching on to Charity for stability yes, but now, as well, simply because she doesn’t want to let go. It’s that wanting that Charity has never experienced before. No relationship before has she ever felt so wanted, like she is the most important thing in the world to the other person.

Maybe she was right in calling her ‘Tiny Blonde Rocket Women’. The moniker was clearly accurate in more ways than one, now that Vanessa’s hands slowly caressed at her curves.

Whilst Charity did now kiss her girlfriend’s lips, she was quick to recoil back. ‘You taste like cheap booze and strip clubs, babe. What have you and Rhona been up to?’, Charity complained albeit light heartedly and in jest.

It was clear from Vanessa’s aroma, a mix of her own perfume, cigarette smoke, tequila, and sweat, that herself and Rhona must’ve had a wild night.

‘’Ness, babe’, she started to utter as Vanessa’s hands started to wonder under her shirt and up her back, as Charity herself held onto her girlfriends arms in an effort to keep her steady. Charity was, however, soon distracted.

‘Is that mud on your thigh? What did you and Rhona get up to babe?’, Charity asked in a mixture of curiosity and intrigue at the drying mud very high up her leg. She expected the stain from either Johnny or Moses, they were often found together doing as toddlers and boys do, but not Vanessa. She was a grown-up 40-something woman not a toddler chancing after god knows what.

Well not a sober Ness. Drunken Vanessa clearly got up to all sorts. She had heard of Rhona and Vanessa’s wild nights, but this was new levels.

‘So what’s this babe’, she uttered, a slight laugh falling from her lips, as she trailed her finger slowly up and down Vanessa’s leg that was emblazoned in mud.

All Vanessa did, however, was shrug and contort her body into any which way in an effort to get a look at the mess which her girlfriend was referring to. Even so, Vanessa could only mumble incoherent somethings, words such as wall, fall, kebab, making little sense as they were mumbled and were sentiments Charity did not register as her girlfriend’s head dropped onto her shoulder, any follow up lost as the vet began to press light kisses onto her neck.

Even in Vanessa’s inebriated state, Charity struggled to resist, she couldn’t repress the sensations that ran through her body at the slightest of touches from the vet. She knew that she shouldn’t continue this over fear of taking advantage of Vanessa, a thought that would have never crossed her mind a few years back, but Ness had changed her.

But when Vanessa pushed at her shoulders, forcing her back onto the sofa, she was literally and metaphorically screwed.

‘If you’re carrying this on babe, you have to be quiet. We both know how you get Ness. You don’t want to wake Johnny do you?’

Charity had never seen something so adorable, Vanessa looking at her with such a fondness. Yet, at the same time, the handsy nature of the vet, something Charity did always forget, was taking over. The vets hands were once again up and under her shirt as she herself rested her hands upon her girlfriends rear end.

No matter how handsy she did get, Charity was first to break the barriers of clothing, managing to grasp at, and effectively tear open Vanessa’s tights, sliding them down her legs whilst simultaneously pulling the vet closer to her body, slow moans falling between the pair at their foreplay.

Nevertheless, Charity still allowed Vanessa to take charge of this encounter, effectively pulling Charity into her lap whilst remaining wary of the mysterious mud that lined her lower dress and purring seductively as Charity littered kisses across her jaw, Vanessa’s own fingers toying with the buttons of Charity’s shirt, tugging them slowly open one by one.

But as quickly as it had started, Vanessa fell backwards pulling away, Charity with a bewildered expression across her features.

‘I can’t sleep with you’.

Charity wanted to question the sentiment, but Vanessa was serious, filled with regret that she was uttering these remarks.

‘I can’t sleep with you because my girlfriend would kill you. And I’m not kidding. She probably knows thousands of ways to dispose of a body if we asked her. The Yorkshire Dales are probably littered with them you know’. Vanessa proclaimed, her thick Yorkshire accent more so in her inebriated state; it reminded her somewhat of that first night alone in the cellar.

Charity was bewildered, bitting at her lip as her girlfriend continued to ramble hands expressing so many emotions, as Charity moved her own hand onto Vanessa’s thigh in a sign of comfort.

‘Oh, is that so?’, she replied back, fingers fiddling with the hem of Vanessa’s dress.

‘You are hot, so hot, like crazy hot.’ Vanessa drunkenly mumbled, ‘But my girlfriend, she is crazy, but at the end of the day she is my crazy and I love her’.

Charity couldn’t believe what she was now hearing, staring flabbergasted at the vet as she rambled on about all the reasons she loved her. The only problem being that they hadn’t exchanged “I love you’s” at all yet, and here Vanessa was proclaiming her love whilst it was possible she didn’t realise she was doing so.

A drunken mind speaks a sober heart, and with the sincerity on her face and echoed in her tone, even if it was laced with intermittent hiccups, was clearly genuine. Charity could only feel her chest tightening, a sensation that she had never felt before in her life. She loved this ridiculous woman, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to drop the sentiment, that fateful ‘L’ word right this second, no.

She was going to sit on the knowledge of Vanessa’s feelings for a little while longer, hopefully the blonde vet would go about some extravagant way of dropping the words to her rather than some drunken rambling. ‘Well this woman is very lucky to have you, and I bet she is gorgeous, you know, if you jumping me is anything to go by’, she explained to Vanessa with a smirk pointing and indicating at her own figure, moving to kiss her cheek and removing herself from Vanessa’s embrace as the blonde vet fell back onto the sofa and into a hazy slumber.

For now, her mind remained clouded by the effects of alcohol that she needed to recover from, to sleep and recover from her night with Rhona. Hopefully then she’ll remember what she had uttered in this haze, hopefully then she will remember that she had told her girlfriend that she loved her.

Notes:

This was my first foray into Vanity fanfic. I'm active on tumblr, but if you find me I will give you the biggest high five.

If you enjoyed this tiny ficlet, let me know, and I'll maybe write some more Vanity nonsense. The more you like it, the more Vanity I'll write.