#helluvacommunity

It had started innocently enough.

It was the first time that Alastor had allowed you into his bedroom- previously he had been too aware of the ‘impropriety’ of allowing a lady friend into his personal space, until you reminded him that this was Hell and nobody gave a shit about impropriety. Still, you had behaved yourself for the most part, sticking to your own chair while you read with him by the fire, one hand clasped with his on the table between you. You got up to go get something and on your way back to your seat you dropped your face down to meet Alastor’s and gave him what was meant to be a chaste kiss on the lips.

He had pulled you fully into his lap, straddling him with your arms against the back of the chair and hovering over him. He nosed at the length of your throat before devouring your mouth in a kiss that was decidedly not chaste, tongue snaking against yours in a way that had you groaning low, the sound reverberating in your chest. 

You hadn’t even really ground your hips against him, merely settled your weight fully in his lap instead of crouching above him and he had whined into your mouth, a choked off sound echoing in the space of his room as he had come in his trousers, the hot spurt of it soaking through the fabric until you could feel it where you pressed against him. 

Alastor hadn’t shoved you off him, but it was a near thing- his hands braced on your shoulders and pulled you back from his mouth, his expression a mix between mortification and anger, though it wasn’t directed at you. He had apologized, depositing you back into your own chair before dipping into the shadows and returning a few minutes later with different pants on and an apology dripping from his lips. He had missed, apparently, the look of blatant arousal and need on your face when you realized what had happened, the knowledge that he had come to orgasm so easily making you blush and clench your thighs together as he transported you to your own room with a hurried farewell. 

You were stripped in the bed as soon as he vanished, your own orgasm only disappointing when you realized that you hadn’t gotten to see the look on his face when it happened.

It became your personal mission, then, to try to make it happen again… and again… and again. He didn’t seem to realize that you were doing it on purpose, cornering him in abandoned hallways and closets and his sheets to kiss, pressing against him in ways that could almost be considered proper if not for the subtle roll of your hips when he pulled you closer. He always hid his face from you when he came, turned away in shame like he thought you would be disappointed. To his credit, he lasts longer every time- you think if the pair of you ever opt for penetrative sex he won’t disappoint either way- but you think it’s more the mental aspect of it than anything else. That he can’t stop himself, can’t or won’t or refuses to pull away from you even knowing how it will likely end when the two of you are so close together and locked at the lips.

Now, shoved into a tiny alcove off the kitchen, his body trembles where his lower half rests against you, the strain of his erection heavy through his pants, hot even with the layers of clothing between you as he presses you into the wall. “If I didn’t know better,” he mumbles as you press your lips to his neck, his collarbone, his chest through the gap in his shirt, anywhere you can reach, “I would think you enjoy my- ahem, my tendency to finish rather quickly when we wind up in this position.”

“Oh, you’ve finally caught on to that, have you?” You know he can feel the sharp-toothed grin pressed into his skin, nipping lightly with your teeth before pulling back and giving him a fond smile. You bring a hand up that’s been clenched in the fabric of his shirt to cup his jaw, in awe, as always, of the slack-jawed wonder in his panting mouth, the burning arousal evident in the droop of his eyelids as he stares down at you. “I find it endearing- and hot as fuck.”

“Language,” he reprimands softly, but his eyelids flutter and he moans low and staticky when you grind harder into him, one leg wrapped around the back of his own to pull him closer. 

“You love it,” you snap back, and squeak in surprise when he lifts you by the thighs and wraps your legs fully around his hips. You can tell he’s close from the frantic bucking of his hips into you, his harsh panting into the scant space between your faces, and you slide your fingers into his hair to tug him down for a breathtaking kiss. You whisper your plea against his lips- “Let me see you? Please?”

“As though- as though I could deny you anything, darling,” he manages to get out before his words fail him, feedback screeching in the dim lit space as he spills against you. His eyes clench shut, mouth falling open in ecstasy as he tips over the edge, claws digging into the skin of your hips as he rides it out. And this was what you had been working for the whole time- the complete abandonment of any shame as he found his release with your body, his face open and honest while he gasped and trembled through it.

He kept you held aloft as the shaking of his body subsided, running his hands comfortingly over the tiny marks he had left on your skin. “You’re quite the deviant, scheming like this for so long,” he whispers, leaning down to give you a kiss. “I hope you realize I will not be so inexperienced forever- I hope you’re prepared for more extensive sessions.”

“I’m counting on it,” you laugh, losing the sound into his mouth as he dips his hand between your thighs to help you find your own end.

It had been a tumultuous one for Vaggie and Charlie, stress racketing up bit-by-bit as they navigated the chaos of the day. They could barely manage to lock eyes with each other to exchange a silent what the fuck before another problem fell into their lap. Alastor had been noticeably absent, leaving them alone to handle mangled pep talks, patching walls, and cleaning up ambiguous fluids in the parlor. So when the aforementioned Overlord finally decided to waltz back into the lobby, there was only a split second of relief before he opened his mouth.

“The hotel seems especially shabby today! Was there a hurricane I didn’t hear about? I didn’t think we had those.” 

It didn’t take much for Charlie to bite her tongue, not when she could tell that Vaggie was seeing red — Alastor’s silhouette all she could find in the reflection of her girlfriend’s eye. 

“Aaaand I think it’s time for a break!” Charlie said, her voice flirting with mania as she quickly wrapped an arm around Vaggie’s waist to direct her towards the stairs. Turning to give the Hotelier a pointed look before adding, “I’m sure Alastor is more than capable of managing things for a while.” 

All she got in return was a slow blink and ambiguous smile, which didn’t leave her with much confidence that Alastor would actually stick around to do his job. Something she might have lectured him over if she wasn’t just as desperate to escape upstairs for a bit.

Charlie did her best to deflate Vaggie’s anger, gently smoothing out her hair as Vaggie muttered to herself in Spanish. They had barely managed to close the bedroom door before crashing into each other, pent up frustration escaping in a steaming hiss of relief as lava meets the ocean. 

Vaggie groaned as they clung to each other, with Charlie merely sighing in agreement. Both of them slowly began to relax as their hands mindlessly roamed and petted the other in an effort to soothe. Vaggie shivered as Charlie removed the bow from her hair, the tingle in her scalp traveling all the way down to her toes. 

They pulled away from each other after a moment, the exhaustion of the day so evident in both of their faces. But there was softness in their eyes, sprinkled with a glimmer of pride, and they both let out a soft chuckle before Charlie leaned down to rub her nose against Vaggie’s.

“You did a great job today,” she said, bringing a hand up to cup the angel’s face. “No matter what the problem is, you always know what to do. I really couldn’t do this without you, you know.”

Before her mind could even catch up with the action, Charlie kissed Vaggie’s face; her pace heated but intentional as she eagerly made her way to Vaggie’s jaw. She couldn’t help but nip her teeth at the soft skin, humming as felt the angel relax more in her arms; a heady sigh leaving her lungs through her lovely, open mouth. 

The Princess really couldn’t help but admire the view. Pride scorched through her veins to see the stoic face she adored melting away into one of pleasure. Vaggie’s eye was closed, her thick eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones. Showcasing the delicate angles of her face in a way that made Charlie’s heart ache, and she couldn’t help but continue to show her appreciation with each kiss. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Charlie purred, baring her fangs again to gently scrape at Vaggie’s throat, right over her black choker. 

She felt her horns begin to sprout as Vaggie cursed in response, relishing the transformation as her eyes glowed gold and sclera went red. Charlie always felt so at ease in this form — her now wild, flowing hair nearly a manifestation of the feeling. Vaggie liked it too, if the sudden roll of her hips was any indication. Charlie took this as her cue to shrug off her jacket, tossing it to the side before she pulled at the bow at her neck. The black slip of fabric and her button up shirt quickly joined their red counterpart on the floor.

“You’re one to talk,” Vaggie chastised, what little edge there was in her tone softened by the timid look on her face before she turned away. The sight of Charlie’s half-naked body making her bashful, despite how much she knew Vaggie admired it.

Charlie loved that she was still shy like this. This sweet vulnerability that no one else got to see but her. Outside of these doors, Vaggie was constantly on high alert. Never allowing herself to be fully relaxed when anything could go wrong in an instant. To those who didn’t know her well, she must seem very stern. And while they may catch glimpses of the softness that hides underneath, it was only Charlie who got to bear witness to this side of her.

No walls, no threats, no guests. Here, it was just the two of them, safe and sound. Where they could completely let go and focus just on each other.

It was only too easy to get lost. 

Charlie’s hands never felt like they were touching enough — her desire to caress and grab and hold easily outweighing her physical capability to satisfy her need. But she managed, reminding herself that they had all the time in the world as she pulled away just long enough to take Vaggie’s shirt off. She would pet her pretty angel for eons if that’s what it took, never tiring of how it felt to have Vaggie’s soft skin under her fingers. Unable to resist giving a testing squeeze to feel the lean muscle underneath.

And still, it wasn’t enough. 

No matter how many scratches or bruises, bites or kisses Charlie gave, her hunger seemed bottomless. She needed more. More shaking, more heat, more goosebumps, more heaving breaths. More of those beautiful whines and moans, echoing off the walls of their room with the resonance of a bell tower. The fruit of her efforts ringing in her ears was nothing short of devious; a wicked symphony of cursing gasps as Charlie’s hand dipped under the hem of Vaggie’s skirt to palm over her panties. 

Charlie chuckled and gave Vaggie a gentle rub, unsurprised to find that she was already wet. “My perfect girl… Have I really made you feel this good already?”

All Vaggie could do was hum and nod, the golden flush under her lavender skin renewing with force. Her eye opened just slightly, and Charlie was thrilled to see that her pupil was blown; a small yellow ring glowing against the surrounding pink. A hot wave of affection coursed through Charlie, dumbstruck again over how ethereal her girlfriend was.

While she hated what Vaggie was subjected to to end up here in Hell, she couldn’t help but be grateful for the twist of fate. God may have created her, but Vaggie was wasted on Heaven. She was always meant to be here with her. And though Charlie wouldn’t consider herself possessive, she was definitely proud.

There were very few things that made Charlie feel confident. A true, albeit sad, admission. And though that list was gradually beginning to grow there was one thing in particular that Charlie could easily say she was truly talented at. Being an excellent lover was an innate gift, a trait that was likely unavoidable given her parentage, and one that so many had to strive for success in, and even then struggled to maintain.

Charlie didn’t take it for granted, though it had been a long and bumpy road in terms of receiving as well as she gave. Awkward and disappointing memories of past relationships flashed through her mind, but she would never regret her efforts. Whether it was giving extravagant presents out of the blue, or rendering her partner speechless in bliss, Charlie was happy to do it. And when the returns began to feel like too much of a deficit she would walk away, left to wonder if she was to be forever burdened with an uneven scale of affection.

Her partnership with Vaggie was recompense. 

Charlie was resolved to show her gratitude and slowly sank to her knees, kissing down Vaggie’s neck, an appreciative moan caught in her throat as she reached the top of Vaggie’s breasts. She brought her hand out from between Vaggie’s legs to teasingly rub and pinch at the softness of her thigh; her other hand kneading Vaggie’s left breast as she kissed the right. A wicked smile spread across her face as Charlie felt the angel’s nipple perk up, giving it a hungry lick over the lace of her bra. The roughness of the fabric against her tongue was a pleasure in itself, but nothing could compete with the way Vaggie’s chest heaved, her heart pounding just below.

She couldn’t bring herself to detach her mouth from Vaggie’s skin for even an instant, relishing the taste of it as she made her way to Vaggie’s other breast. Angels didn’t sweat, but seemed to be imbued with a sweetness she couldn’t place — somewhere between amber and honey that only the Divine could have conjured. Charlie swallowed a rush of saliva just thinking of what awaited her a little further down, using the opportunity to take Vaggie’s breast into her mouth. Her left hand massaging the other, while her free hand snuck behind Vaggie to run a mischievous claw down her spine before coming back up to unclasp her bra with ease. 

With the give of the garment, Vaggie’s breast settled further into the heat of Charlie’s mouth, and she hummed as she suckled the sensitive flesh. Vaggie’s head fell back, a strangled whine leaving her as Charlie let the bra fall away. The warmth of their bare skin finally making contact, while Charlie’s forked tongue teased at Vaggie’s pert nipple.

“You always take things slow,” Vaggie pouted, writhing under Charlie’s touch in a silent plea for more. “Please, amor, I can’t wait… Not today.”

Charlie cursed around the flesh that was still in her mouth, Vaggie’s words igniting the kerosene in her veins. Her whole body was suddenly hot, the ache of her own need screaming to be sated as she tugged Vaggie’s skirt and panties down. Vaggie moaned at the show of force, quickly stepping out of the garments and peeling off her gloves before resting her hands behind Charlie’s neck. 

Vaggie was a vision standing in only her stockings, and Charlie made no secret of her appreciation as her hands roamed the expanse of naked skin. Charlie squeezed Vaggie’s full hips as she pulled the angel closer, straightening herself up enough so that their mouths could find each other to indulge in a deep and languid kiss. Her hands now gliding over Vaggie’s thighs, ass, and waist — kneading and rubbing the suppleness of her body as she drank in every sound and twitch from her love. Vaggie’s impatient grinding against her torso too much to ignore as Charlie’s left hand made its long awaited return to Vaggie’s core, lightly rubbing against her folds before spreading them open to coat her fingers in the ambrosial slick she took such pleasure in inspiring.

“Is this better, Angel?” Charlie teased, licking the underside of Vaggie’s chin as she took in the ruined look on her girlfriend’s face. She couldn’t help the proud smile that tugged at her mouth as Vaggie’s hips rocked against her hand, begging for the fingers that had yet to enter her. 

“Charlie,” Vaggie growled, her nails biting into the thin skin of Charlie’s neck in warning. “You know it’s — ah!”

Vaggie’s complaint was cut short with a swipe of Charlie’s thumb over her swollen nub, her hand finally applying a generous force as she massaged Vaggie’s sex. Charlie placed a kiss over Vaggie’s heart as she finally pressed in, unsurprised that she could glide two of her fingers into her core with ease. And while Vaggie had asked for a quicker pace, what good would it do to hurt the one she cherished over all others? Charlie knew the relief of being filled was enough to quell her impatience for now as she slowly worked Vaggie open, allowing her some freedom to grind into the base of Charlie’s hand.

As they found a rhythm, a string of barely-coherent curses tumbled from Vaggie’s mouth, her breath coming in hot puffs of steam against Charlie’s face that refused to look away. Charlie crooked her fingers and angled her hand so that she was passing over the spongy bundle with each motion, her pace fueled by the eager desperation of Vaggie’s body pulling her in. The room was a symphony of moans and heavy breath, underscored by the lewd wetness between Vaggie’s thighs.

Charlie always knew when Vaggie was close. It always started with a flex of her abdomen, a bite to her lip. Her walls squeezed around Charlie’s fingers as if wishing to commit them to memory, arousal pouring down her hand and landing in warm droplets that soaked into Charlie’s pants. If she had been feeling truly devious, Charlie would have pulled her hand away. Leave Vaggie to whine and bemoan the loss and draw out their fun for a while longer. 

But it had been such a long day… Vaggie faced every challenge head-on and determined as she always did. And deep down Charlie wanted nothing more than to give back as much of the love and security that Vaggie gave to her, by whatever means were bestowed upon her to do so.

“Let go, baby… Cum for me, please, I’ve got you.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could even register that she had said them, with Vaggie’s orgasm quick to follow. She cried as her muscles and body spasmed while Charlie worked her through it, fingers pressing more than pumping as Vaggie’s hips rocked against her soaked palm. After a moment, Charlie withdrew her hand and brought it to her mouth, their eyes locked on each other as she lapped at the sweet arousal that was too precious to waste. She finished with a salacious grin, and hooked her arms under Vaggie’s thighs before rising off the floor.

Vaggie wrapped herself around Charlie, taking refuge in her strength as she placed soft and reverent kisses wherever Vaggie’s lips could touch as Charlie brought them to the bathroom. All their worries forgotten by the promise of a hot bath and another evening of finding refuge in their loving bed.

Meant to be, like ocean waves against volcanic shores.

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