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Stolas’s talons tapped rhythmically against the side of his glass flute, ears honed in on the light tinkling against his fingertips, aiding him to tune out the incessant chatter surrounding him. Garish rays shone down from the dozen chandeliers, twenty pairs of assorted feet waltzing atop the reflection in the perfectly polished floor.
He fucking hated these things. Hovering in one corner, several drinks serving as his companionship. Stolas usually lasted just a couple of hours before he snuck away to his bedroom and his books. But this one? It would be a miracle if he lasted an entire hour tonight.
It had only been twenty-six minutes since the party officially began, and Stolas was already clock-watching like a punter with his rent soon due.
He tipped the flute and drained the liquid once more, basking in the morsel of satisfaction he took in the pleasant burn within his throat.
“Can I offer you another?”
A somewhat familiar face hovered to Stolas’s left, arm outstretched containing a bubbling tumbler. Stolas’s mouth formed a little “o” as he stared at the demon conversing with him. With him. He was shorter than Stolas, with vibrant, purple feathers crowning his rounded head. A goetian nobleman, Stolas assumed. He had seen the man at a few events previously.
He accepted the glass. “Thank you.” It wasn’t his usual, but it would ensure his mind remained foggy enough to repress the worst of Stella’s actions thus far.
The goetia snapped his fingers and summoned a chair to pull up along side Stolas’s own.
“I’m Sebastian, I’m sorry we have not been formally introduced, Your Highness.” He held out a hand, and Stolas hesitantly took it. “I’ve been to a couple of events at your palace, I have always thought it rather beautiful.”
“My wife’s work, really.” Stolas offered, sipping the carbonated beverage. It clung to his tongue unpleasantly.
“I see…your wife is truly, something.”
Stolas laughed bitterly. “You a friend of hers?”
“I should think not.” Sebastian stuck his beak high in the air, feathers ruffled.
“Oh, well.” Stolas managed a small smile, truly taking in the goetia’s appearance now. He was quite handsome, with plush, orderly feathers bursting out over his ironed collar. His eyes, a pale blue, gazed intensely back at the owl’s own.
Sebastian lingered there, attempting to drag any and all small talk out of him. After Stolas had sipped away his flute, it was immediately replaced by another, the nobleman inching his seat closer with each pour.
A hand found Stolas’s forearm, fingers closing around the limb. He looked up and spotted a deep blush on Sebastian’s face, a nervous grin on his beak.
“I hope you don’t find me too forward, Your Highness. I have always found you rather…intoxicating.”
The talons around his arm began to move, pushing between the feathers and grazing the skin below.
Stolas grimaced, shrugging him off. “I’m afraid you are um, barking up the wrong tree, Sebastian.”
The demon stared at him. “O-oh! My apologies, I thought-your wife was not your-”
“I’m sorry.” The owl stood, clicking his fingers to vanish his tumbler and heading to the nearest exit.
Sebastian had been the seventh goetian nobleman to attempt to lure Stolas into bed since he had been married, and the seventh that had been left disappointed. Stolas had been confused at the attention of the first few, assured they must be after money, royal backing, or an insight into one of his prophecies. It had taken the first goetia actually pushing his beak against Stolas’s own in a deserted corridor, for the prince to understand what had been happening.
Still, he felt nothing for them, any of them, other than general disinterest (and a little anxiety about his wife witnessing any flirting or fondling).
He had tried, unbelievably hard, to rouse some sort of desire, yearning for any of their offerings. Several of them were dashing, respectable men with attractive bodies and smooth, deep voices. Stolas wanted to feel even a modicum of what he’d read about in his books since he was a fledgling, but he felt no stir in his chest at their touch, no flutter in his stomach at their flirtatious jokes, no warmth between his legs at the sliver of exposed abs as they deliberately stretched upwards.
So Stolas carried on reading, and kept on wanting.
-
“Plated it all up for ya, eat up, birdie!”
Stolas peered down at the off-white plate, his assorted foods this morning had been (somehow?) arranged into a scene of a tiny owl, imp and horse frolicking under a sky of four-tipped kale leaf stars. The mildly charred pancake owl and imp were even holding hands.
A warmth flickered in Stolas’s lower belly.
“You want tea?”
He hummed. Stolas had swallowed down lukewarm cups of coffee for the first few weeks after the trial, hiding his gags as the taste swamped his tongue. The minute Blitzø had cottoned on, he dragged Stolas by the hand to the supermarket and purchased (stole) every type of tea on offer. Stolas had eventually settled on three flavours he found most palatable, even though he had been too buried within his own depressive episode to process the taste of anything.
Blitzø kept on brewing them for him, always making sure to leave the little teabag in for exactly as long as Stolas liked best. The memory sped the pulsing of Stolas’s heart beneath his ribcage.
“Yes, thank you Blitzø.”
The imp whistled merrily as he stirred, the metal of the spoon clattering obnoxiously as it hit the sides of the mug, tail swishing behind him. Stolas still found himself mesmerised by the sight of his pure unadulterated joy, a once blue-moon event now a daily occurrence.
He placed the mug down, rubbing his scarred palm in a soft, circular motion over Stolas’s back as he did so. The cup was one of Blitzø’s very favourites, decorated with several tiny horses wearing stripy socks over their hooves.
Stolas throbbed between his thighs.
Clumsily he reached for the mug, wincing as several hot droplets splashed out over his feathers in his haste. Blitzø let out a frankly absurdly adorable gasping sound, quickly retrieving the tea and placing it back down on the dining table.
“Careful birdie, let me see.”
“I’m fine Blitzø, don’t worry, it just landed on my feathers.”
“Exactly! Can’t have your smooshy fluff all fucked up by the heat, especially after I spent all last night picking through it.”
Blitzø had indeed spent several hours the previous evening preening his feathers, plucking out the old and damaged quills and gently coaxing the infant feathers to grow in the correct direction. Stolas had never known his plumage to be in such excellent shape. The once drab and dreary grey now sleek and shiny, reflecting the scarlet overheads as the owl stared into the smudged bathroom mirror of Blitzø’s (his? their?) apartment.
Blitzø delicately took hold of Stolas’s wrist, turning his arm until the back of his hand faced upwards. The feathers at his wrist clung together, a brownish tint gluing them in little messy tufts. Further down, the tea had already marked and dried upon the black flesh, leaving a mild ache in its trail.
“Look, you’re all burnt here. Let me help.” And the imp stepped over to the freezer, retrieving a bag of frozen mice and returning to the table.
Stolas held his uninjured arm out, but Blitzø shrugged him off, lowering the compress onto the affected area himself and watching the ex-prince’s face for traces of discomfort.
“That feel better?”
“I was okay Blitzø really I-”
Blitzø raised an eyebrow.
“…Yes, thank you.”
Truthfully Stolas felt a million times worse than he had before. The imp was not only clamping his thick fingers around Stolas’s wrist, ensuring the mice stayed put, but his other hand rested on the back of Stolas’s neck, sharp claws tickling the baby quills at his nape.
What could only be described as a fucking stream of slick escaped his cloaca, discomfort between his hips intensifying as his walls clenched down around the emptiness inside him.
Blitzø’s incessant need to be disgustingly affectionate towards him at all hours of the day was becoming unmanageable. Every soft gaze of the eyes, lingering of claws, rub of rough palms against his feathered back, was enough to leave Stolas squirming in his seat, squeezing his legs together in search of some much needed friction.
He knew he must be going insane. Had he always felt this way? An utter whore, debasing himself for a chance to feel Blitzø’s shoulder press up against his own, to intertwine their fingers as Blitzø held his hand on the sofa, and sometimes, if he was truly lucky, a hidden, wet kiss to the forehead once Blitzø believed Stolas to be dead to the world.
The first time it happened, the pressing down of rough lips had almost made Stolas come in his borrowed shorts.
“You sure you’re good, Stolas?”
The sound of his concerned voice snapped the owl out of his debauched spiral.
“Your face is all pink, and you’re sweating like crazy.” Stolas barely suppressed a whimper as Blitzø carefully placed the back of his rough, huge hand against the bird’s forehead. “Satan’s asshole, you’re burning up! I think I’ve got meds for bringing down a fever somewhere, let me check my-”
“No! No I’m fine, please don’t-”
“Plug it, Stols.” He moved to stand behind Stolas’s chair, pulling it out from the back and then enclosing the owl’s fingers in his own. “Let’s at least go and get you in a cool bath.” A tiny groan of despair made its way out of Stolas’s throat as he was pulled towards the bathroom.
Blitzø ran the tap, swirling the water with his claws to ensure the temperature was sufficient. Humming to himself, he turned back to Stolas, gently tapping his upper thigh.
“Alright, clothes off.”
Blitzø had bathed and preened Stolas entirely naked so many times now, even since moving in together, that Stolas usually didn’t think twice about baring his all to the imp.
Today however, his cheeks ignited at the demand, knowing full well his panties were going to visibly stick to his cloaca as he pulled them down his thighs. He thought about asking Blitzø to turn away, to hide his shame.
But really, he couldn’t help but cling on to that sliver of hope that if Blitzø did realise how stupidly horny Stolas was right now, (and always) he might actually do something about it. They had fucked a few times since the trial, but for countless reasons, those nights were few and far between.
He gripped his shorts at the hip, pulling down both sets of fabric and stepping out, one leg at a time. Stolas kept his eyes up high, refusing to watch and see if Blitzø was trying to peek between his legs. He hoped he was.
Blitzø took the clothes from him, adding them to the wash hamper. As Stolas climbed into the tub, Blitzø retrieved his sponge, pressing it below the surface of the cool water and squeezing.
“Just relax.” He murmured, straight into the owl’s ear. Stolas clamped his eyes shut to hide the way they rolled back.
The imp’s hot breath had hit his ear, ghosting over it like a damp kiss. Arousal continued to roar inside his lower belly, lashing at the skin, demanding release.
Blitzø washed him thoroughly, keeping Stolas in the tub until he had checked his temperature was okay three times.
“You’re just lucky I used your ear rather than your ass, birdie!”
Yeah, lucky.
He held a hand out to help Stolas clamber out of the tub. The owl made the small mistake of daring to shiver, and Blitzø immediately rushed to his aid, wrapping him tightly in three separate towels.
“That better? I have another here if you need-”
“No, no that’s quite alright.”
“Come here.” Blitzø wrapped his arm around Stolas’s lower thigh, guiding him to sit down on the couch. “I’ll dry you off, then we can get some blankets over you.”
Stolas swore his clit swelled beneath the towel as he felt the imp’s hand make contact with his bare leg.
He sat, stock still with bated breath, willing himself to just get through what Blitzø was doing to him. The imp carefully dried every inch of his feathers, teasing out every droplet of water and then rearranging the quills into their proper configuration. Blitzø didn’t even crack out a euphemism when he rubbed the damp out of his pussy feathers, simply staring closely to ensure he left no single drop of bathwater behind.
The attention only made him wetter.
Dried and thoroughly fondled, Blitzø dressed Stolas too, claws lingering where he pulled up the bird’s panties over his ass. He fetched two thick blankets, layering them one on top of the other and making sure the owl was covered up completely.
“There! Now you’re all cozy.” He smiled warmly, taking Stolas’s hand in his own and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the back of it.
Stolas whined as his clit pulsed once more.
“What is it?”
“…Your um…this is your blanket, for your bean bag.” Stolas offered, weakly.
“Yeah?”
“So what will you sleep under, Blitzø?”
Blitzø shrugged, “I’ll just share the couch tonight.”
“What!?”
“Gotta keep you warm anyways, and make sure your hand is okay through the night. Easier if I’m up here.” Blitzø told him, like this was the most obvious thing in Hell. He reached up, seizing Stolas’s thigh and hauling himself up onto the sofa, sitting his ass down on Stolas’s lap.
Stolas squeezed his legs together, barely holding off his orgasm.
“Scoot over, I’ll sleep this side.”
Stolas shuffled his body, and Blitzø squished himself into the tight gap between the bird and the front of the cushion. The imp stretched his arms high above his head, flashing a strip of his crimson abdominal muscles. Stolas, overwhelmed by the sudden proximity of Blitzø and his gorgeous naked chest, squeaked as he had an arm placed over his torso, the imp pressing their bodies together.
“Don’t whinge about it, We all need a cuddle every now and again. And you definitely need one tonight.”
Whinge? “I was hardly going to whinge, Blitzø.”
“Hmm, good.” And Blitzø buried his face in the owl’s chest feathers, nuzzling his snout side to side through the plush plumage.
Laying on his side, forced to see the imp dote on him like this, Stolas couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his thighs together as one laid heavy atop the other. Slick leaked out, sparks of heat shooting up his long spine and flooding his brain. He began feeling woozy, watching the imp before him become hazy around the edges. His lids gradually fell shut as the warmth filled his belly.
“Oh, you sleepy birdie? Okay, let’s sleep.” And Blitzø switched the nearby lamp off, climbing back onto Stolas and flopping fully on top of him now. “Hope this is okay, let me know if I’m too heavy.”
Stolas, now flat on his back, chuckled despite the panic steadily flowing through him. Blitzø’s tail swished cheerily under the blanket at the sound.
Stolas closed his eyes, feeling Blitzø against every inch of him. The imp’s limbs hung off at each angle, his chin resting at the owl’s neck.
“Mmm, smell good, Stols.” And he felt the imp’s nostrils press against his throat, sucking at the air.
Stolas shuddered, the sensation pushing him to rub his legs together more quickly. It was harder to get the friction laid out like this, and he grew frustrated, bucking his hips a little despite better logic.
“Fuckin’ stay still.” Blitzø grumbled, holding onto Stolas’s hips and squeezing. He stiffened, trying to regulate his breathing as Blitzø’s fingers placidly teased the quills covering his hipbones. If only he would inch his fingers down, brush over his mound, feel how wet Stolas was for him tonight, every night.
Stolas whimpered needily as Blitzø’s palms pinned him to the sofa, swollen clit trapped between his puffy lips.
“What’s wrong? Wait lemme-”
Blitzø dragged himself further down Stolas’s body, intending to situate himself in the gap between his legs.
“Wait!” Stolas cried out, but Blitzø had already moved down his figure, pausing as his exposed sliver of tummy rubbed against the mound in Stolas’s shorts. He peered down, head tilting as he took in the damp patch on his abs, glistening in the moonlight entering through the window.
He raised his head to look back over Stolas, finally noticing the obscene wet spot over the mound in his shorts.
“You fucking piss yourself or something?”
Stolas burst into tears.
“Aw fuck, shit, I didn’t mean it Stols! It’s okay! We can go get you another bath and-”
“I didn’t fucking piss myself!”
“Oh.” Blitzø frowned. “Then why are your shorts all wet over your pussy?”
“Because I’m ridiculously wet, Blitzø. I am aroused. I am horny. I desire to be thoroughly and roughly fucked and I want it right now. You have been making me so horny I can’t think straight, so horny it makes me act stupid all fucking day every day!” He squawked, pushing Blitzø away from him until the imp landed on the cushion furthest from Stolas’s ass. The owl pulled his knees up to his chest, glaring at Blitzø through the tears.
“Uhh…I’m sorry?” Blitzø tried, suddenly scratching a particularly persistent itch on one cheek with the opposite hand.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not!”
“I can see you smiling!”
“Stolas listen-” Blitzø dropped the arm and the pretence.
“No, leave me alone.” Stolas announced theatrically, wiping his tears with his unblemished wrist and hiding his face in his knees.
Blitzø sighed, slowly knee-crawling across the couch and placing his hand on Stolas’s arm.
“Stolas.”
His grip tightened, and Stolas cursed his cloaca for betraying him.
Blitzø tried again, ignored each and every time. On his fourth attempt, he moved his hands down to hold the bird’s legs. Stolas moaned as his thighs were separated, cheeks flushed as he peeked at the imp approaching from the space in between them.
“Come on birdie, let me help.” Blitzø laid heavily into the flirting now, sharp claws dragging over the damp patch, digging in slightly where he knew Stolas was most sensitive.
Stolas tried to think of a single reason to refuse the offer.
“Oh fuck, please Blitzø, please.”
For the second time that night Blitzø grabbed Stolas’s shorts at the waistband, languidly pulling them down the bird’s long legs. He moved in further until his ass sat directly between Stolas’s calves, teasing a thumb in a swirling motion around each inner thigh. The owl jerked so violently that Blitzø startled, huffing out a soft laugh as Stolas bit his lower lip with the tip of his beak.
“Damn, you wanna tell me what’s gotten you so worked up tonight?” Blitzø asked, dragging two claws down the front of his panties. The digits came away drenched, and Blitzø stuck them into his mouth, sucking lewdly. Stolas moaned at the sight.
He struggled with forming actual sentences. How could he even begin to explain what was going on inside his head? Blitzø would require his entire sexual and romantic history (if a whole lot of nothing could even be called that) to comprehend the ex-prince’s frustration. Details on all the perfectly charming and handsome goetian men that did less than nothing for Stolas’s cunt, despite their best efforts (and in some cases, begging).
Each and every story of Stolas turning another man down, him only being able to get off to fantasies found in his novels of romance and filth alike, never putting a face to the image as he flicked over his clit and stuffed in another finger.
Until Blitzø had come back, and changed everything.
“Just-I want you. Only you.” Stolas offered, not untrue.
Blitzø smirked at him. “I want you too, Stols.” He dug his thumb into the cleft between Stolas’s thigh and cloaca, the three other fingers pressing into the back of his leg as he squeezed the limb firmly.
Stolas whined. He felt so wanted, so desired with Blitzø’s gripping such an intimate part of him. “N-no, I mean it. Only you. Only ever you, Blitzø.”
Blitzø hesitated, loosening his hold.
“Never wanted anyone else, no matter what they looked like, how nice or cruel they were. Nobody until you ever made my loins burn like this.”
Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Loins? Really Stolas can we-”
He translated into something Blitzø had no choice but to face full on. “No one has ever gotten my pussy wet, my clit hard, my cloaca to swell and throb but you. No matter how much flesh or feathers they revealed, how dirty their words were, whispered into my ear.”
Blitzø chose that moment to ghost his fingers over Stolas’s panties again, pressing the fabric between his labia. Stolas forced the words out. “Them at their filthiest, their most explicit, would have nothing on the way my cunt clenches every time you hold my hand.”
Blitzø rubbed his fingertip against Stolas’s clit through the panties, chuckling as he felt its swell beneath his claw.
Stolas gasped, somehow continuing, “The way you stroke my back makes my clit pulse. When you put your hands on my thighs to guide where I walk, my cloaca leaks, slick flooding my panties like the lowest of sluts. Oh, and when you wait for me to fall asleep, leaving your saliva on my forehead as you kiss me in the darkness, I can only squeeze my legs together and hope to stop the orgasm then and there.”
Blitzø was blushing now too, firmly prodding against Stolas through his underwear, claws digging into the meat of his thigh.
“Fuck, let me taste you baby.” He whispered, and Stolas whined, nodding frantically. Blitzø moved the panties to one side, stretching out his tongue and flicking the forked tips over Stolas’s clit. He bucked his hips up at once, chasing the offered friction.
Blitzø dragged his tongue back and forth over Stolas’s clit, a mixture of metallic and floral hitting his tastebuds. Stolas continued to wriggle beneath him, grinding his ass against the sofa cushions. Blitzø growled, pinning his thighs down and quickening his licks. He gathered excess saliva until it pooled in the back of his throat, letting it drip all over Stolas’s pussy, flooding through the gaps between his folds and onto the bottom of his already soaked panties.
Blitzø’s eyes fell shut as he worked, lapping at lightning speed, brow furrowed as he licked in deeper. Stolas could hardly bare to look at him, the combined sensory input completely overwhelming. Yet he was too shaky to fully turn his head away, half-managing by clenching one eye shut and locking onto Blitzø with the other.
This gorgeous, beautiful, perfect man, lavishing Stolas with his tongue, eating him from the outside in.
Blitzø pushed his tongue inside his hole, and Stolas came with a scream, squeezing the imp’s head between his thighs as he tried and failed to stop (or at least slow down) the incessant licking. Blitzø held onto his flailing limbs, sucking his pussy through it beyond his first orgasm, and only stopping when he was half way to his second.
“What do you want?” He uttered, nipping at Stolas’s inner thigh with his sharp fangs.
“Fuck me.” Stolas whispered, pupils wide and fixed on Blitzø.
Blitzø leaned forwards, kissing his clit through the panties. A dribble of slick escaped his cloaca, the pair of them staring as the damp panties darkened somehow further as the slick seeped into the cotton.
“So being all cutesy gets your pussy slippery huh?” Blitzø ragged, not waiting for a response as he gripped the panties by the strip covering the bird’s hole and yanking them off, roughly. Stolas chirped angrily at the treatment, then flushed once more as Blitzø brought his lips down to the owl’s belly, pecking a trail up through the feathers until reaching his faceplate.
Blitzø kissed each cheek, then cupped the left in his large palm. Stolas shuddered excitedly, “You being sweet and affectionate makes me aroused, yes. That sums up my current internal crisis, I suppose.”
Blitzø looked at him, pupils dilated within the yellow glow. “Me?”
His voice was so small, so unsure. It still took Stolas off guard every time, despite its presence in front of Stolas becoming more commonplace. Stolas leaned in, resting their foreheads together and sighing woefully. “Just you.”
Blitzø kissed him again, lips moving against that sharp beak, desperately pushing his tongue inside Stolas’s mouth until he found the bird's own. He moved a hand to his own shorts, pushing them down to beneath his knees and then grabbing his cock at the base.
Stolas manoeuvred himself without prompting, bending his body in half to allow the imp to line himself up without their mouths having to part. The head of his cock teased over the bird’s entrance just as Blitzø pecked Stolas’s beak. His bulbous tip caught on the ring of muscle as it breached him, coinciding with Blitzø licking into Stolas’s mouth, his tongue pinning Stolas's own to the drooling roof.
For each spike that popped in, Blitzø bit down on Stolas’s lower lip, forming little divots in a line across the plump flesh.
Blitzø began thrusting his hips, his dick gliding easily with the sheer amount of slick. Stolas glanced down to where they joined, and saw sticky strings from his pussy clinging to Blitzø’s cock, as if trying to drag it back inside.
“So good, Blitzø. Always so good, so deep.” Stolas told him, letting himself get lost in the feeling.
Blitzø wasn’t done teasing him yet, continuing to fuck himself further inside as he placed one hand on the back of the bird’s neck.
He began to pet lightly, chuckling as Stolas’s legs kicked out at the touch. The imp’s claws dug through the plumage, scratching at the flesh beneath it, just soft enough to scratch an itch Stolas never realised he had.
His cloaca squeezed down around Blitzø’s length at the attention, forcing Blitzø to work twice as hard to keep his dick moving in and out. Blitzø groaned irritably, gradually moving his hand to the space between Stolas’s shoulder blades and massaging the area. He worked at several tight knots located there, all whilst grinding his cock against the deepest spot inside Stolas, the one that made the owl hoot each time his dick bottomed out.
“Is it just when I touch you?” Blitzø asked, leaning in and wrapping his arms around Stolas’s waist, lifting him up to sit on the imp’s lap. Stolas bounced on it, gasping each time the length narrowly avoided slipping out.
“N-no, it can be-it’s whenever you are being affectionate, I suppose.”
“I’m hardly affectionate, Stols.” Blitzø muttered, bucking his hips up, balls slamming into the cleft of Stolas’s ass. “I’m a horny perv, half the time I touch you it’s to cop a feel.”
Stolas gawked at him. “You don’t even realise y-you’re doing it, do you?”
“Doing what?”
Stolas took hold of the imp’s chin, angling it up so their eyes met. “Where are your hands right now?”
Blitzø frowned, his thighs flexing underneath the bird’s ass as he slowed his pace a little. “Well on you but, we’re fucking right now!” He thrust upwards hard, forcing a squawk out of his bird as his cock suddenly filled him to the brim.
“Oh, oh y-yes but.” Stolas exhaled shakily, “Just-one is on my back, doing that little thing you do. Oh it’s so sweet, so loving.”
“What thing!?” Blitzø growled, his cheeks flushed.
“Your fingers, they fidget a lot when you’re nervous or relaxed, and when they’re against my feathers you make little circles, draw tiny patterns onto me. It’s just enough to tickle! Oh it’s so cute, Blitzø.” He laughed, then pushed his bottom lip out as Blitzø’s hand paused on his back. “Don’t stop!”
“That was too many fucking words considering my dick is inside you right now.” The imp growled, lifting Stolas once more and pulling him off his length, throwing him down to the sofa. Stolas whimpered, hands pawing at Blitzø’s arms and chest, attempting to pull him closer.
Blitzø bared his fangs, lining up and pushing inside Stolas again, fucking into him at a brutal place. Stolas cried out, his cunt squeezing down, pressure building rapidly.
“Even, e-even now! Your other hand, you haven’t s-stopped.”
“What?!” Blitzø looked down at his right hand, squeezing hard over the owl’s hip bone. “This? This is me fucking hurting you, you slut. This is me giving you the pain your pussy floods for, it is not cute.” He argued, his belly slapping against Stolas’s, neck straining with the effort as he held his head up to look at the bird’s face.
“Y-you.” Stolas hooted, his eyes fully glazed over now, his head thumping repeatedly against the arm of the sofa as Blitzø fucked him. “You take breaks, every few m-minutes you loosen your fingers and-and rub where you squeezed me, easing the ache.”
Blitzø slowed his pace, “The fuck are you-”
“Ah! You’re doing it n-now!”
Blitzø peered down, and observed as his own traitorous fingers soothingly caressed the tip of Stolas’s hip bone, smoothing the flattened feathers there. He wrenched his hand away, staring accusingly at it.
“No.” The owl sulked. “I like it.”
They looked at each other, Blitzø’s dick resting inside even as the thrusting stopped. Stolas smiled gently at him, bending his spine to bring their faces together.
“I like you, and how affectionate you are. I like how you touch me, caress me, stroke me, but also how you grope and prod and fuck me.” A small grin broke out across the imp’s face. He brought his hand up to the bird’s cheek, petting at the soft feathers of his faceplate.
Stolas’s pussy clenched down hard around his dick, forcing a moan from the pair of them.
“Fuck, you’re serious about this cutesy shit huh. Well, alright. I guess I can roll with it.”
Slowly, Blitzø began to move his hips once more, his spikes dragging against Stolas’s walls, catching on his entrance as he pulled out, then pushed back in again. The bird brought his knees up either side of Blitzø, talons scratching against the sofa cushions, tossing his head back as Blitzø fucked him harder.
Blitzø’s cock slammed into Stolas’s sensitive spot just as the imp stroked lazily over his beak, tracing a path up to pet at his eyelids. Stolas shuddered, the pleasure building rapidly, each tiny rub of Blitzø’s fingertips like warm sparks at his skin.
“So, so fucking pretty, Stols.” Blitzø whispered, removing his hands and leaning in close, mouthing at the bird’s jaw.
“Mmmm, f-fuck.” Stolas panted, one hand grasping the largest of Blitzø’s back spikes, gently pulling it and stroking at the base. The other hand found the imp’s tail, clutching at the spade and massaging it between his talons.
The added sensation pushed Blitzø to fuck him harder, his now unoccupied hands free to pin the bird to the couch, keeping him still.
“F-fuck, gonna, Blitzø I’m-”
Blitzø cut him off with the sweetest press of lips against his beak, soft tongue licking over the pointed tip.
Stolas came hard, his cry echoing in Blitzø’s mouth as he was kissed throughout. Blitzø’s own dick throbbed as Stolas’s pussy squeezed around it so hard it was forced still whilst deep inside, the wet slick and vibrations working at every inch of his cock until he was coming too. Blitzø moaned as hot cum finally spurted from his tip, flooding the owl’s cunt until the imp could thrust again, sloppy squelching sounding as he tried to prolong both of their pleasure.
He collapsed on top of Stolas soon after, fighting to catch his breath. The bird’s pupils were dilated, a far away look in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling.
“You g-good?” Blitzø attempted, the words catching in his hoarse throat.
Stolas laid, spread out beneath him, a giddy smile on his face. “Oh yes, that was wonderful, Blitzø.”
They stayed there, breathing together under the moonlit sky, reflecting on the past hour.
“You really uh…you only ever got wet for me?” Blitzø asked, voice quiet once more.
“Yes.”
“Surely people asked you out, though?”
“They did.” He hummed, hands on his chest as he twiddled his thumbs. “I turned them down.”
“Why?” Blitzø pulled his dick out, clambering clumsily up to Stolas’s face, resting his snout against his sharp beak.
“Because none of them made me horny.” Stolas kissed his face.
“But I do.”
“Yes.”
“And not just my dick, all my sappy bullshit and clinginess gets your birdpuss going too?”
“You, get every single part of me “going” Blitzø.”
Blitzø smiled, moving to leave little damp kisses across Stolas’s cheek and beak, rubbing the other side with his fingertips. Blitzø felt a hot throb against his skin, and the pair of them looked down, spying Stolas’s cum-coated pussy hard-up against Blitzø’s scarred leg.