vaggie x charlie fall in love with queen of hell

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Somewhere, echoing down the seemingly endless halls and cavernous hollows of the hotel, a party is in full swing. The clinking of shot glasses tings sharply from below, potentially Husker pouring their friends yet another round of his favorite brew. A guffawing chortle booms in the cat demon’s sonorous register, followed by a subsequent crash and devastatingly familiar shaking beneath the floor. Possibly Angel and Cherri getting a little carried away with her various contraptions in their inebriated state.

Really, guys? We just fixed that wall.

On the upper floors, outside the faintly tingling neon light of Angel’s bedroom door, Charlie Morningstar barely has enough time to think, let alone mentally chastise her friends further, before the woman in front of her pushes harder up into her. Framing Charlie’s cheeks in her palms, Vaggie pulls her down into an even more heated kiss than the one they’d shared before. Drawing her attention away from the ruckus (and the deconstruction of the newly erected battlements that’s almost certainly happening downstairs), Charlie gets lost in her girlfriend’s line of sight, where the blush on her partner’s face almost matches Charlie’s own rosy, glowing complexion.

Charlie is tall. Taller than Vaggie, for sure. But when her girlfriend grips the lapels of her suit jacket, the gray skin of her hands practically turning black with the effort to draw her face in, Charlie is reminded that the formerly fallen angel is also incredibly strong.

Charlie is a demon. The princess of demons, with all the preternatural strength and sheer power that comes with that title. Vaggie is another force entirely. Charlie is always in awe at her seemingly bottomless well of supernatural strength. Uncommon from most of the other souls in Hell, she always figured Vaggie could be an overlord if she wanted. But the realization that her talents have a more heavenly source, one distinctly unique from anyone else she’s ever met, makes so much more sense, in light of recent events.

She is yoinked toward her girlfriend’s face. None too gently, because as Vaggie had said earlier during the party, it’s been a long time since she stabbed someone and really meant it. Charlie can tell she’s holding back. The princess’ vision blurs as she finds herself spinning like a top, her back thunking solidly against the wood of Angel’s bedroom door. She only starts mentally coming to when her girlfriend has practically wrapped herself around her midsection.

Taking advantage of her diminutive stature, Vaggie’s arms wrap wholly around Charlie’s neck, her ankles hitching together at the small of Charlie’s back, hanging onto the taller woman for dear afterlife. Dark, manicured nails grasp the hair at the back of Charlie’s neck, pulling their faces even closer, until they are practically the same being, putting the sturdiness of Angel’s bedroom door to the test.

Vaggie,” Charlie says, more than a little edge of breathlessness to her voice. She hitches her hands under the smaller woman’s rear, so she doesn’t fall. It feels so good to have her close again. “Vaggie…” Oh fuck, she’s crying. Her tears pool where their mouths are smashed together, because her hands are otherwise occupied. Why is she always like this?

“Oh, princesa. Don’t cry,” Vaggie pulls away long enough to say. It’s kind of a moot point with Charlie, but the angel refuses to let it ruin the mood. “It’s okay, babe. Really. I’ve got you.”

“I missed you so mu-HUUCH, Vaggie!” Charlie squeals, the waterworks finally running on full blast at this point. She buries her face into the other woman’s chest, both of their bodies quaking as she is wracked with tears. Charlie does her best not to drop her partner, and it’s a damned miracle that she doesn’t. Vaggie just lets her work herself through it, stroking her girlfriend’s face and hair to ease her distress as best she can.

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