Chapter Text
In total darkness, Vaggie knew her way around their room.
Knew where the bed was, the walls, their pile of laundry, their closets, their shared dresser, about where the door to the bathroom was. Sometimes, even with her eyes shut because she had yet to adjust to the lights on while she dressed, she still knew how to step over Charlie’s pants on the floor without seeing them, knew exactly where they were before she was awake enough to put them in the basket.
Somehow, this was different to her.
Charlie’s gaze scraped over her, and she could feel it like wandering hands. The air of the room was cold on her bared skin, and goosebumps had already risen along her arms. When she strained her ears, all she heard was Charlie circling her, feet on the carpet and her too-distant breathing.
Vaggie was usually pretty good about gift-giving—if she was one-hundred percent honest, the fact they had joined assets about forever ago certainly helped. There was no price range for gifts—just keeping their eyes open for what the other might want. This year though, Valentine’s Day had caught her by surprise. She hadn’t had time to actually look into gifts and when she had thought to go grab a last minute one of flowers and some chocolates, everywhere was sold out anyway…
After two hours of thinking she was the shittiest girlfriend in the world, she had explained it to Charlie, that she had fucked up, that she had every intention of still getting Charlie a gift even if it was late, to please not be mad, to know Vaggie loved and appreciated her so, so much—
Charlie had taken it just fine. Vaggie supposed, when you had date nights as often as they did, and sang about your love on about a weekly basis, and didn’t allow the other out of your sight without making sure they knew you loved them—there wasn’t a ton of room to feel unloved. Vaggie had asked if there was anything she could do to make it up to her.
And now they were here.
Charlie’s giggle broke Vaggie’s train of thought before a gentle hand prodded her somewhere along her ribs. “I love my gift, Vaggie.”
She was somewhere in front of her now—Vaggie knew she was nearby, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to see her face: her pale skin, her dark eyes, her bright cheeks… In her head, she swore she saw that little glint Charlie got in her eyes only when she got this worked up. On a regular basis, she wanted Vaggie on top—but once in awhile, she wanted to indulge in something a little more like this, and it made her almost unrecognizable, maybe because Vaggie hadn’t seen all that much of it.
And if Charlie pulled off her bow she had tightened around Vaggie’s eyes like a blindfold, she would, but presumably, that was a part of the fun Charlie wanted.
Charlie was moving again, noticeable only when one of her fingers hooked into that second ribbon binding her wrists together behind her back, a nail just barely nicking Vaggie’s skin, and her voice came right against her ear, a sultry little murmur that had the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “Should I unwrap it?” She whispered—when Vaggie only shivered, she moved closer and just barely nipped her ear before giggling again.
Other than the bows, Vaggie was wearing her stockings. She hadn’t wanted to keep them on, because she didn’t like her feet getting hot and sweaty when her and Charlie were doing the horizontal hokey pokey, but Charlie liked the look of them on so much, she figured, hey, she was the one who forgot to buy her a gift. And on Valentine’s Day, of all days! Ugh. She had really fucked up.
At least Charlie was forgiving.
Another hum and her fingers snagged into the rubbing again, but a bit more gently. “Did I get you…?”
”It’s fine,” Vaggie said. “It doesn’t hurt.”
”It looks red.”
”It feels fine.”
Charlie’s hand drew back. She looked it over, and seemed to realize she hadn’t drawn blood or anything—Charlie was into a lot of things, but not really blood, or at least, not blood she had drawn. Vaggie remembered being on top one time, forever ago, where her and Charlie had had like, a night long of boning, and then figured out that that wetness on her thighs was bright red because she had gotten her period without noticing, but Charlie had seen the blood and assumed she had ridden Vaggie so hard, she had broke something and began to panic. She had then confused Vaggie’s laughter for pained sobbing.
That was a fun night.
After accessing the damage (literally nothing), she drew back—and then her arms were around Vaggie’s waist. Back to flirting!
”Mm… what do you think?” Charlie’s lips just barely brushed over her cheek, and every featherlight touch had every muscle in her body stiffening. “Should I open my present, Vaggie? It looks so pretty as it is, I think I should admire it a little more. What do you think?”
She shivered again—Charlie’s fingers squeezed a little tighter. “You can do anything you want to me, hon.”
Charlie licked her lips so noisily, Vaggie swore she started salivating just thinking about her mouth. Shiny black lips, and that hot, wet tongue… “Anything?” She whispered.
”Anything.”
There was a beat—and then Charlie picked her up so effortlessly, Vaggie’s head spun, and she slammed her back against a wall much closer than she remembered and grabbed at her thighs, to rest them on her hips. Cool plastic pressed against her vulva, nowhere near her entrance, but enough to get her heart racing. “So,” Charlie started. “What if I wanted to fuck you right here, up against this wall?” She asked.
Vaggie’s brain short-circuited.
One of Charlie’s hands was around her bicep, forcing her farther against the wall, fingers tight. The other had Vaggie’s hip—somet times, she forgot how strong her girlfriend was. Vaggie struggled to pick Charlie up like this, but… Charlie had always been impossible. Her nails started to dig into Vaggie’s skin and she found herself squirming, her bound hands scrabbling for purchase like she could grip into the wall and steady herself.
Charlie continued, voice a purr, “Hold you up… pull you down on my cock… think about unwrapping my pretty little present before I play with it.” Her fingers squeezed tighter around her hip, and even with her eye covered, Vaggie could hear the grin in her voice—Charlie was clearly enjoying herself.
She pressed her lips firmly against her cheek, leaned her forehead against Vaggie’s so her breath ghosted over her lips. “You look so good,” she whispered. “I want you so bad, Vaggie.”
It occurred to her they could’ve moved Vaggie’s eyepatch over to her working eye and gotten the same effect—but she guesses that wasn’t as aesthetically pleasing. “You really think you can hold me up that long?”
”You wanna find out?” Charlie whispered.
She tried to relax in Charlie’s hold, thinking for sure she knew what was coming, but Charlie cursed under her breath and put her back down on her feet.
Vaggie wasn’t sure if she was trembling with anticipation or need, but she had to lean back against the wall to support herself. She heard Charlie’s footsteps pad across the carpet, away from her—and for a moment, she was just gone, and Vaggie couldn’t even see her. Her own paranoia started to creep onto the edges of her mind, pushing to the foreground, and she whispered quietly, “Charlie? Hon?”
In an instant, a hand was on her shoulder. “I’m right here!” Quiet sounds of struggling that put her further on edge—it occurred to her absolutely anything could be happening and she wasn’t seeing it. “Just… hold on a sec’…”
She shifted on her feet, the hand lifted—Charlie grunted, and something popped open. A bottle, it sounded like. Actually, Vaggie knew exactly what that was. “You want to carry me for sex, but you can’t even open a bottle of lube?” She asked.
”I got it open!” Charlie exclaimed. She huffed and that hand that had been on Vaggie’s hip moved to her cheek, cupping gently. “How’re we feeling? Still green? Do we need a break?”
Vaggie took a deep breath. “Still green,” she said. She leaned into the touch—Charlie kissed right over her hairline and stayed there a moment. Vaggie sighed—Charlie’s lips were warm, sticky with her favorite black lipstick, and it never mattered how much of a mess her kisses might make when Vaggie always felt so good wearing them.
Charlie pulled back and pressed another kiss just shy of Vaggie’s mouth. “I’m never gonna get over how pretty you look with your bows,” Charlie murmured. “You know that, right? Know every time I see the back of your head now, I’m going to be thinking about right now? About how pretty that bow looks around your eyes, your wrists… Every time I see you, I’m gonna be thinking about tying you up with your own hair bow and fucking you against the wall.”
”Yeah?” Vaggie whispered. “Because you haven’t done a whole lot of that yet. I thought maybe you were just going to stare at me.”
”I could.” Charlie grabbed her chin and stroked over her bottom lip with her thumb. “I should take my sweet time with my gift, right? Make sure I appreciate it.” Charlie kissed just over her throat and chuckled against her skin. “Maybe I’ll cancel tonight’s reservation. Maybe I’ll just keep you in my room… all night.”
Another kiss, the type that took Vaggie’s breath away and had her curling her toes in her stockings—she started to resent the bonds keeping her hands behind her back, because she wanted to feel over Charlie’s chest and try to find her heart beating for the intimacy of it all, or maybe just get to tweak a nipple or something. All she could do was curl her fingers into a fist, like the nails digging into her palms might distract her from the growing need in between and dripping down her thighs.
In front of her was the wet sound of Charlie slicking up whatever toy she intended to use on her—Vaggie had half-expected to be the one wearing the strap-on tonight. These days, when Charlie was looking for a night on top it usually meant she was just going to ride her—but sometimes, she got an itch to make Vaggie writhe beneath her for a change, just uncommon enough to strike Vaggie as unfamiliar. She wasn’t sure if how hot the scene made her thrived in spite or because of that unfamiliarity.
Charlie picked her up again, hands supporting her ass while Vaggie managed to wrap her thighs over Charlie’s hips. When she seemed a bit more situated, one arm went under her legs again, pushing her upright with her back against the wall and the other disappeared, probably trying to push the head of the strap-on up against Vaggie’s entrance. This time the cool plastic was wet with something even colder than it.
”Ready?” Charlie whispered, just a breath away. Vaggie closed the gap and captured her lips just as she thrust in.
She had to pull back to curse and slam her forehead into Charlie’s shoulder. “Shit!”
It hadn’t occurred to her that the reason Charlie would put so much care into lubing up their dildo for tonight was because it was this fucking big. She tried to think about the other toys they had in their closet, under their bed, and came to the conclusion that they hadn’t actually used much of those in her, because this was wildly unfamiliar. It was much thicker than any Vaggie could remember feeling like this, and felt too… textured.
She arched her back like she was trying to keep herself from making contact with it. “Fuck, fuck—gi-gimme a moment, hon, just—“
”Hey, hey—it’s okay!” Charlie stroked her hair, probably smearing lube through it. “Take your time, Vaggie. We’ve got all night, okay?”
She drew a deep breath into her lungs—somewhere in front of her, Charlie was there, holding her tight, radiating her warmth. Vaggie started to relax—this was Charlie. She was safe, and she felt safe, and that made the pain bearable, receding away once she got over the shock. “What do you think?” Charlie asked. “Do you need more lube? Is it just too big? Do you wanna test out the vibration settings with me?”
Vaggie sighed. “This thing vibrates?”
Charlie kissed her cheek. “That doesn’t answer any of my questions,” she teased. “Should we take a break?”
Another deep breath and Vaggie shook her head. “No—j-just… go slower.”
Charlie kissed her temple. “Tell me when it’s too much.”
Vaggie’s head swam as her girlfriend pulled out and gently eased back in. She made herself relax, to try and take it a bit easier—by the next thrust, a faint buzzing had started in her walls and she was biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning.
”There we go,” Charlie cooed. She didn’t go any faster, just gently rocked herself in. “You wind yourself up so tight, Vaggie… We need to get you to relax more.”
Vaggie knocked her head forward and readjusted her legs on Charlie’s hips. Maybe this came off as some sort of invitation, or a sign that Vaggie was beginning to enjoy herself, because Charlie dove forward and wrapped her lips around her nipple, her hot, wet tongue circling it ravenously.
This was the woman Vaggie had fallen in love with. Undeniably gentle, sweet, beautiful—and a complete fucking horndog.
Vaggie heard Charlie crank something up, and the toy inside her started buzzing harder. A moan slipped out and Charlie started pounding into her in earnest, giggling with her lips against Vaggie’s skin.
Charlie was so hot, she scorched Vaggie’s soul. Her skin so warm, Vaggie’s blood boiled in her veins. Every soft press of her—when her lips touched Vaggie’s, and when her hands squeezed around her hips or cupped one of her breasts—had her throwing her head back, choking on her moans and her adoration for the body so tight against her own.
”So pretty like this,” Charlie cooed, gripping her tighter. She let go for a moment, for what she didn’t know, but Vaggie slid too much down the wall and they had to readjust the position. “So hot and wet… so needy. Such a good girl, though, you’re so good, Vaggie—“
The wall scraped at her bare skin along her back—the discomfort did jack shit to stop her increasing arousal, and she found herself scrabbling at the wall again, digging her nails into whatever she could. It felt so good, it felt Heavenly—but it wasn’t enough. She loved the stretch, and the burn, and whatever on the dildo that was rubbing at her walls with her girlfriend’s thrusts and how hard it vibrated, but her clit ached with the neglect. For a moment, she forgot she was tied up and tried to reach for it herself, to make sure she didn’t interrupt Charlie’s pace, and had to bite back a whimper when she couldn’t break the ribbon around her wrists. “Hon—G-God—!”
Charlie was gritting her teeth—she could hear it in her voice, when she growled and gripped Vaggie harder. “Is God fucking you right now?” She demanded. “Is He fucking your pussy right now?”
This was the type of sacrilege that Catholic school had chased out of her. Maybe it was just that they were in Hell that made this shit normal, or maybe it was Charlie’s voice, but Vaggie swore it was hot as fuck. Charlie’s breath fanned against her cheek in a hot puff before she moved her face closer, nipped at her ear. “Only name in your mouth should be mine,” she said. “You’re mine—He can’t have you.”
“Charlie!” She bucked in her hands, and the head of her cock brushed something wonderful in her body. “T-Touch me, please, please, Charlie!”
She let go again, and then slammed her hand into the wall by Vaggie’s tense body. She couldn’t help how she tensed, but she really couldn’t help how much more wet it made her. Nobody else could make her heart skip like that and not be something to fear—but somehow, on Charlie and safe in her arms, the anger was something to love. “Damnit!” She hissed, and Vaggie swore, if she didn’t start touching her clit—
She groaned and tried to force her hips further into Charlie’s hands. “Charlie, please.”
She captured her lips again. “I’m gonna take such good care of you, Vaggie. You’re so good, so pretty, so perfect for me, all for me…”
Charlie rolled her hips and Vaggie felt her eye roll back into her head. Charlie grunted, pushed Vaggie up higher against the wall—and then pulled her away entirely.
It’s loss left her reeling. She felt more exposed, more unstable, and she couldn’t even grab Charlie and cling to her—the strap-on pulled out, and without being muffled inside her cunt, the buzzing was so much louder, she worried somebody might overhear them.
The two of them crashed to the floor, onto the carpet—Charlie had tucked her arm under her head before she made contact with it, so nothing really hurt, but she squealed anyways, because what the fuck? She didn’t usually like it when Charlie changed positions so suddenly.
Before she could even think to complain, or beg for her to keep going, or anything, Charlie was kissing her again, fisting the ends of Vaggie’s hair, moaning like a woman deprived. When she pulled back, she went straight back down, this time on Vaggie’s chin.
She trailed a wet line of kisses down her chest and stomach while she writhed and gasped, bowed over her bound hands and strung so tight, she thought she might snap. She could still hear the electrical hum of their vibrator in dead air, and Charlie’s frantic little pants while she worked her way down, down, down…
It was so unfair she couldn’t see this beautiful, beautiful woman that had her so vulnerable and helpless. She was so sure nobody had never loved anybody as much as she loved Charlie, and she had greatly underestimated the cruelty her girlfriend was capable of to deny her this.
Charlie’s teeth sank into Vaggie’s thigh and she shrieked. Charlie’s adorable giggle stuck to the inside of her skull like bubblegum on a car tire. That long tongue grazed over the indents from her teeth, lapped over her slit and finally offered some form of mercy to her clit before she pulled away again and kissed the new bite mark.
She thought it might bruise—and it was high enough on her thigh, the only person who would really see it was either herself or Charlie, but the idea sounded so hot all of a sudden, to be wearing evidence of her girlfriend’s love on her body, where someone else could see it and maybe know that Vaggie belonged to the princess—
Again, her tongue laved over Vaggie’s entrance, slow and hot. Her head spun with desire, she panted, squirmed again in her bonds until the tails of her bow-turned-blindfold tickled her throat.
A sliver of light poured into her eye. Near immediately, Charlie got onto her knees, pulled herself up to Vaggie’s face and readjusted. “No peeking,” she whispered.
”Ugh, Charlie—please—“
Her giggle left a lingering, tingling warmth in her chest. The tip of that cock pressed against her entrance, but didn’t enter immediately. “You know how pretty you are, Vaggie?” Her palm cupped Vaggie’s cheek. “So pretty. All wrapped up, just for me, only for my eyes. I need to tell you that more.”
Vaggie licked her lips. “You tell me plenty.”
”Oh yeah?” She dragged the toy across her lips teasingly. “Who’s the prettiest girl ever?”
”You?” She said, sweetly.
”Nope.”
Vaggie pursed her lips. “Marilyn Monroe,” she tried.
”No.”
”Reece Witherspoon.”
”No.”
Vaggie frowned. “Frida Kahlo?”
”You’re only adding her to downplay your thing for blondes!” Charlie exclaimed.
”Not true,” Vaggie argued. “You know I have a thing for unibrows! She’s a Latina artist with awesome eyebrows, what’s not to love?”
She gripped her hair harder. “I know a Latina artist I love even more than Frida Kahlo, even if her eyebrows aren’t as cool.” She reached down and tweaked her nipple. “And we’re not continuing until I hear her.”
A beat—the cock rubbed over her again, slowly, and the hard veins along it dragged over her skin. Charlie leaned in close, “Who’s the prettiest girl ever?”
”Hon, this is embarrassing.” She shivered again, pushed her elbow further into the carpet. “Fine, I am.”
”What a good girl!” She pushed the head in with her hands and rolled her hips. “You’re such a good girl, Vaggie—so pretty and sexy…”
Vaggie tried to hook her leg around Charlie’s hips, but might’ve just ended up kicking her. The next thrust had her whining—Charlie didn’t bother to hide her giggling. Sometimes, Vaggie didn’t know why she liked the bottom so much, because she always got so giddy on top of her. “So impatient, too. Fuck, I love my gift, Vaggie, I love this perfect little body, you’re so good.”
She didn’t bother trying to speed up. The position meant she could actually use her hands, and her palm slid down her stomach, teasingly. “Is this what you want, love?” She asked. “You wanted me to touch you.”
”L-Lower—“ She gasped. “Charlie, fuck, please—“
The hand lifted—and finally, finally, the pad of a thumb pressed against her clit, rolling gently. A breathy, desperate sigh slipped from her panting, drooling mouth and she bucked her hips into all the contact she was being offered. Her toes curled into her stockings, digging into the carpet. Charlie grunted with the next thrust, connecting their hips, and then running her hands through Vaggie’s hair again.
Charlie was a beast like this—hot, greedy hands and wet kisses, her mouth pushing bruises into her throat like her life depended on it. “Hon,” Vaggie panted. “Hon, untie me, I wanna hold you.”
She yanked the bow off of Vaggie’s head, and light trickled back in—and there Charlie was, on top of her, black lips glossy with spit and the pupils in her eyes big enough to block out the iris so all Vaggie could see was red. She looked like she was glowing.
She threw the ribbon off to the side. “Fuck,” Charlie hissed, bit her bottom lip—her white hips stuttered against her ass. “You look so g-good, Vaggie.”
It occurred to her there must’ve been some sort of other attachment—maybe that buzzing wasn’t just on her end of the dildo, but that made it so much hotter. Her perfect girlfriend was going to cum while she fucked her pussy, and Vaggie wanted nothing other than to hold her. “My hands,” she pleaded. “Get my hands, let me touch you, prin—ah!—princess.”
That hand on her clit pulled back to reach under her and tug at the knots around her wrists. Her pace slowed—Charlie cursed, and then pulled harder. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Vaggie dug her heels into the carpet and tried not to whine too loud. “Charlie, please—“
”I’m trying—“ Vaggie wanted to chase her peak, but all the movement had stopped and she could feel it plummeting. “H-Hold on a second.”
She flipped her onto her stomach like a rag doll, sinking the toy deeper into her pussy while she leaned over and worked on untying the bow. It wasn’t really working out.
Vaggie rocked her hips back, sighed and tried to at least get the angle right. Her need throbbed at the bottom of her stomach—and she couldn’t even see Charlie, just the foot of their bed. Charlie frowned behind her and tugged harder at the ribbon—and only managed to tighten it.
”We got scissors,” Vaggie panted. “In the drawer.”
”You think I’m getting off of you?” Charlie asked. She grunted, pulled again—
The ribbon snapped and Charlie laughed, breathless on top of her. She grabbed Vaggie’s wrists, lifted them to her lips and kissed over the tiny marks left from their pressure before she pressed her lips to the back of Vaggie’s neck. She felt the press of her teeth before she bit down, and Vaggie gasped again.
”Are you ready?” Charlie asked. She nipped her ear again, giggled again, and her warm hands pressed against Vaggie’s back. “You wanna see how bad I want you, Vags?”
She swallowed heavily and nodded against the carpet. Her own slick slid down her thighs from her aching cunt. “Charlie, god, please…”
A hand buried in her hair, threaded through the white and pulled so her cheek was pressed against the carpet. Vaggie clutched at the carpet under her with one hand and shoved the other underneath her to rub furiously at her clit in the same back and forth motions Charlie had been doing a moment ago.
Charlie was white-knuckling one of her hips and that grip she had in her hair. Every plunge of that toy inside her seemed to push her farther and farther to the edge. Vaggie clenched down so hard on it, she saw stars—and Charlie above her moaned, a rumble that became all Vaggie could think about, beyond the all-consuming pleasure.
Charlie’s hipbones pressed into her ass. “So good, Vaggie. You’re so tight and hot for me, so good for me, baby…”
”Fuck…”
Charlie mouthed along her back, more breath and teeth than lips or tongue but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was contact, more touch, more her—
Vaggie pressed down harder on her own clit—and Charlie’s hand yanked on her hair, wrenching her head back until she screamed. “Are you close, mi lechita? Are you gonna cum?”
Her legs started trembling—Charlie didn’t pause. If the world ended outside their bedroom, she probably wouldn’t stop, and damnit, that was hot. She loved her carefree, optimistic, happy girlfriend but when she focused—
“Cum for me, baby,” she hissed—she didn’t know when it became so hot for Charlie to start ordering her around. “Cum for Mami, show me how much you like your gift.”
Desperately, Vaggie turned her head to catch a glimpse of her girlfriend’s face—her yellow hair pulled over her shoulder but messy, tangled, lipstick smudged. They locked eyes—and Charlie gave this slow, deliberate lick on her own lips, like she was ravenous and Vaggie was a three course meal—
Her hand went rigid under her—her peak was fast approaching, and her own arousal spilled out under her before her orgasm finally hit and she trembled on her fall to the floor.
Charlie fucked her straight through it, thrusts slowing down before she slammed into her, grinned her hips and shuddered, gasping. For a moment, they were both still.
Charlie pulled the toy out and giggled when Vaggie clenched around it, overstimulated and still somehow desperate for more. A beat and then the buzzing stopped. Her arms wrapped around her waist, rolled her onto her back.
They didn’t kiss again. They went silent, and Charlie pulled her head onto her chest while she caught her breath, holding her so tight, she thought she might pop.
When Vaggie found her words again, she managed an exhausted, shocked, “Mierda.”
Charlie kissed her temple. “You did so good,” she purred. “I can’t believe you let me do that. Fuck, Vaggie, that was so good.”
She swallowed hard. “Why… why the floor?”
Charkie laughed. “Didn’t think I could carry you to the bed.” She kissed her forehead this time, and then over her eyepatch.
Vaggie shut her eyes. They continued to lay there a moment. “Are you… really okay?” She asked. “After I forgot to get you a gift?”
Charlie’s smile quirked at the ends. “You are my gift,” she said. “Are you mine?”
”Completely.”
“Then that’s good enough for me,” she said. “Sure, it stings not having flowers—but I get it. It was an honest mistake.” Vaggie glanced down at her hands, but Charlie intertwined them. “I know you, Vaggie—and I know your heart. The minute you told me you were sorry and you would get me a gift late anyways, I had forgiven you three times over.”
Vaggie sighed and leaned into her—she looked down at the strap-on over Charlie’s hips and saw one of the gifts Charlie had showed her earlier—the super thick, ridged dildo for the bedroom Charlie had gotten for the two of them, along with a reservation to a nice restaurant and a box of chocolates. “You’re too good to me, hon.”
”Uh, you just let me tie you up with your own bow and fuck you like an animal—you’re too good to me.” She patted her thigh, squeezed and grinned so bright, Vaggie couldn’t even look away. “C’mon, let’s hop in the shower and get ready for tonight.”
Vaggie considered what would probably happen in the shower between the two of them, and realized the reservations were probably going to get canceled within the hour—but she could never turn down her girlfriend. “Alright, hon.”
Charlue chuckled, helping her to her feet. “You look so good wet,” she teased. “But not as good as you do in your bows.”