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You lied to me,” Octavia said accusingly, voice cold and full of hurt.
There were no other words for it; this was quickly becoming a nightmare within a nightmare. Stolas still had his arms around his beloved daughter, his darling Starfire, when the teenage owl voiced the extremely valid accusation. Stolas had had his eyes closed as he embraced her, but they quickly sprang open as the words hit him like a sledgehammer.
“What?” he asked dumbly, pupils shaking.
“You lied to me!” She pushed him away, causing him to stumble backwards. “You said that you would never leave me! You promised!”
She looked so angry, so hurt. And Stolas couldn’t blame her a single bit. How could he, when he let her down? He felt so small in that moment, so small and so ashamed, because a part of him knew and understood where she was coming from.
“Via,” he tried. “I didn’t leave you. I—I would never—it wasn’t my choice—”
“It was your choice,” she drove in furiously as only a hurt child would. “You chose him,” she pointed to Blitzø, who stood a few feet away.
Stolas couldn’t bring himself to look back at the assassin who’d just risked his life to save him minutes earlier.
“Via, no—I didn’t. I just—” Stolas tried to reach for his owlette, but she stepped back, causing his heart to break even further. His movements began to get wide and frantic. “I had to—you don’t understand.”
Frustration seeped into his voice. He needed to get through to her. He had to make her—
“I do understand,” Octavia cried out, trying to rein in her magic that threatened to go out of control. “I understand we were never enough for you. You never loved mother, and you don’t love me,” she peeked at her father’s horrified face. “You love him.” She suddenly held out a bottle of his antidepressants. “And you needed these! Was this my fault that you needed these?”
Stolas couldn’t take it anymore; she was getting everything wrong, and each word was a dagger to his heart.
“No! No! Never, Via!” He grabbed onto her hand as if it were a lifeline, like he would die if she let him go. “Sweetie, please, you have always been the only good thing in my life,” he said as he offered her a watery smile.
“So does that mean you just stayed miserable because of me?” Octavia also had tears brimming on her waterline. She kept her eyes averted, but her voice came out strong and defiant. “Was I some fucking obligation?” She turned to him as she wiped off tears with her forearm, her talons closed tightly around the medication bottle. “Is that why you didn’t even hesitate when you got a chance to leave?”
She tried to pull her arm away, but Stolas held on tight. The banished prince knew he only had seconds to convince her. If he failed… he would lose her—possibly forever. So when Octavia shrugged his hold off, he was quick to grab her other arm, pulling her towards him in desperation.
“I love you, Via. So, so much.” He fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the back of her hand, regret boiling in his chest. “Please, sweetie, let me explain.”
Octavia shook with repressed sobs. Stolas held on tight, not daring to move despite the ice hurting his knees or the cold wind whipping through his thin clothes. This was his one chance to talk to his daughter, and he wouldn’t give up without a fight. He did not just go through that whole fucking battle with Andrealphus just to give up, not when Octavia was still standing in front of him.
“Explain then,” she challenged, eyes overflowing with tears. “Give me one good reason why I should believe you.”
How could he explain this in a way that Octavia would understand and not hate him? Think, Stolas, think, he urged himself. Should he use an analogy, a metaphor, or some kind of comparison about things or places she knew? The older owl paused, shivering not just from the cold, but also from the fear of failing to make his daughter feel just how desperate and afraid he’d been when he saw Blitzø bent over the executioner’s block on screen.
In the end, he just went with the truth.
“I couldn’t let him die for my sins,” Stolas admitted, head bowed. His grip tightened around his owlette’s wrist. “They took him to punish me. Used him because they knew… It was my fault they were going to execute him. Make a spectacle of his death.” He chanced a look at his daughter, and her confused frown told him he’d been right to be honest. “I lent him the book in exchange for… for companionship. I had been so… lonely.”
“But you had me?” Octavia sounded so lost.
Stolas sent her the warmest smile he could muster. “I had you to keep me going for all these years. You were right about one thing, sweetie. I did not—could not, love your mother. But I will always be grateful to her for giving me you. I love you, Via. You are my daughter, and nothing will ever change that. Not even my banishment could keep me away from you.”
At the mention of his sentence, the young owl tried to pull away again, but Stolas held on. “There’s no point in telling me all this! You’ll just leave me again!”
“But what if you come with me?” Stolas threw out as a last-ditch effort, clinging to the younger owl’s talons. “I promise—”
“You want me to come with you?” Her voice sounded tiny, but the hope that eked through gave Stolas relief.
“Of course, my Starfire,” he answered, struggling to his feet. He couldn’t exactly stand being half frozen, but he powered through the exhaustion of the day to pull his daughter into an embrace. “I would love for you to come with us.”
He suddenly felt something warm wrap around him, and it took him a second to realize that a coat had been draped over his shoulders. Stolas took in that familiar scent of gunpowder and tobacco that had always pulled him in, realizing that Blitzø had put his own tattered coat over the freezing owl’s shoulders. Then he saw Loona coming up behind Octavia to place a hand over the owlette’s back in support.
“You can stay in my room,” the hellhound offered in a gentle tone.
Stolas watched as first hesitation, and then doubt, and finally determination flashed through his daughter’s expression. She looked at him, and over his shoulder, as if searching. He refused to take his eyes off her face, but she must’ve seen something that hardened her resolve. Stolas watched as she nodded, helping him to his feet. He felt familiar claws guiding his hips, and his heart skipped a beat at the knowledge of who those claws belonged to, who Octavia had been looking at as she made her choice.
“Let’s go home,” he heard Blitzø say.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
“It would be great to have clothes of my own,” Octavia said, voice and movements bashful.
That day she'd left the Palace to be with her father, she'd refused to go back inside its frozen walls. Her dad also voiced his apprehension at letting her pack a bag since it meant the owlette might bump into her mother and uncle. Thankfully, Loona offered to share not just her room, but also her things.
All of them thought that was such a sisterly thing to do, but none of them dared to say it out loud just yet.
Stolas had been thankful to have his daughter back, but he knew the Princess had had a hard time adjusting to their new home. The apartment was just too small to house two owls, an imp, and a hellhound. Moxxie and Millie took pity on them, going as far as offering to house Stolas and Octavia, but of course Blitzø would hear none of it.
They made do, with Loona and Octavia sharing the hellhound’s bedroom. Blitzø even splurged on an air mattress they’d reinforced with duct tape so that the Princess’s talons wouldn’t puncture the vinyl. Anything to help make Stolas’ daughter feel more comfortable in her new home.
Unfortunately, this also meant that the innocent touches he and the imp shared since his banishment faded away to only lingering looks when the other wasn't watching. It wasn't like their feelings had faded away; in fact, they'd intensified. They just had their reasons for keeping claws and talons to themselves.
For Stolas, he was too concentrated on making sure Octavia had everything she could need, especially support and companionship, as the Princess gets used to life outside the Palace. And it seemed like Blitzø was still wary of the teenage owl’s temper, preferring to leave the two avians alone to talk or watch TV when at home. He’d only approach Stolas for bedtime, though they’d also stopped sharing the couch. Blitzø would pull the beanbag closer just so they could talk a little before going to sleep.
The drastic changes gave Stolas a whiplash, but he felt determined to make the most of their situation. There were days when Octavia would sulk, missing the lifestyle they once had, but Loona could usually pull her out of her funk. Stolas already had a soft spot for the hellhound, but now, he was closer every day to seeing her as another daughter. It helped that Loona had softened a lot since they took in the Princess, acting like an overprotective older sister.
None of them wanted to leave the Princess at the apartment while they went to the office, so work immediately became bring-your-kid-to-work-day every day. It took a lot of convincing on Stolas’ part, but eventually he gave in and let Octavia join IMP on a hit. It terrified Stolas, thinking of the myriad ways his beloved Starfire could get injured, but the whole team promised to look out for the owlette. And there was no denying how ecstatic the Princess was to use her powers topside.
One of the downsides, apart from Stolas almost losing his shit as he waited for his family to come back to Hell, was how combat easily ruined Octavia’s borrowed clothing. It was quite easy for the oversized clothes Loona lent her to get caught on stuff on Earth like gates, and branches, and flying daggers—and the poor hellhound didn’t exactly have a lot of clothes to share. Today was one of those days when a hit got too messy, and the whole team came back covered in mud and human blood.
At first, Stolas had been petrified, thinking one or all of them had been injured. He’d spent half an hour fussing over each member, taking extra time to run his talons all over his daughter who sulked at being treated like a child. It reminded the older owl of that time when he caught her playing with carnivorous plants in their garden, her dress caked with plant gunk, feathers askew. Stella had pitched a fit at the time—now it was Stolas’ turn.
It was only after Stolas was satisfied that they were all safe and sound that the older owl was able to relax a bit. Blitzø had taken him aside and promised that they were all looking after the owlette. Stolas had tried not to blush as the imp whispered in his ear. He thought he saw a flash of desire in the imp’s eyes, but it was gone the moment Loona came over to add assurances that Stolas accepted gratefully.
Unfortunately, as was quickly becoming the norm, Stolas realized that after every hit, Octavia needed to change out of her bloody borrowed shirt and shorts. Stolas had been saving his paychecks to buy some plants for the balcony at the apartment, or maybe some second-hand books. But now that he had Octavia back, he knew that her needs came first. It just so happened that today, the hit they’d just finished paid off big, and Blitzø immediately handed his share of the money to Loona and Octavia to go shopping. When Stolas added his own earnings, the Princess tried to return them at first.
“You need your own clothes, darling,” he said reasonably, closing his daughter's talons over the cash. “Go and have a nice day out with your sis—with Loona.”
Both girls rolled their eyes at the older owl’s slip, but neither contested the words.
“Go have fun at the mall, kids,” Blitzø added, a big grin on his face. “We’ve been swamped with work since ya got here, Vi. Time for you and Loonie to do whatever teenagers like to do. Y’know. Kid things.”
“Ugh, Daaad! I’m not a kid,” Loona whined, but she gave her adoptive dad a grudging smile as she accepted the money he slipped into her paw.
Octavia also gave a token protest. “I’m also not a kid anymore, I turned eighteen last week.”
And what a relief that had been for Stolas.
In the aftermath of the battle at his old Palace, he’d been terrified that Stella and Andrealphus would come for Octavia and drag her back kicking and screaming. He was still powerless, with no way to defend his daughter against the cruel swan and peacock siblings. Blitzø had assured them that they’d had an ace in their corner—the blessed rifle they’d wrestled off Striker many moons ago when the imp hybrid had first tried to assassinate the former prince—but Stolas knew that if anyone from I.M.P. tried to use the rifle on royalty, there was no way he could sing their way out of that mess.
So it was both comforting and heartbreaking for Stolas that no one came to take Octavia back.
“Bye Dad! Bye Dickhead!” Octavia called back on her way out of the office.
Loona threw them a wave but declined to say any farewells.
The moment the door closed behind the girls, it was Millie’s turn to speak up. “Well, we’ll be on our way, too.”
“What?” Blitzø sounded startled, pausing in his cleaning efforts. He was the one most covered in blood. “Where’r you going? We still have work to do!”
“We have an appointment,” Moxxie explained, which had Stolas exhaling in relief.
He’d smelled the pregnancy off his female friend months ago and was glad that they were finally getting seen by a doctor. Assuming that was what the appointment was for. He’d have to ask them after they got back. He hoped they’d bring sonogram pictures.
“Be safe!” Stolas called out to the married pair as they walked out the office’s front door.
And then they were alone.
He and Blitzø were alone. Stolas tried not to show how affected he was by the mere thought of being alone in a room with the love of his life. Trying to busy himself, he shuffled the paperwork scattered across his desk, looking for the file of the target the team had just eliminated. To his surprise, Blitzø suddenly collapsed on the floor, clutching his stomach.
“Blitzø!” the owl exclaimed. “Are you okay?!”
To his horror, the imp removed his hand to reveal a stab wound.
“Oops,” Blitzø said sheepishly.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Stolas scolded the assassin as he wrapped gauze over the treated wound. “You stood there talking to the girls, and with Millie and Moxxie, meanwhile, you were bleeding out!”
“Calm your tits, big bird,” Blitzø answered softly, placing a claw over Stolas’ talon, stilling the owl’s movements. “I’ve had worse.”
“I don’t care if you’ve had worse!” the former royal burst out. Stolas’ ruby reds were watery, his expression terrified. “I can’t lose you! Blitzø, if anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do! I can’t—”
Suddenly, Blitzø was kissing him.
There were claws buried in his headfeathers and his talons were scratching the base of Blitzø’s horns, and Blitzø’s tail was going around his waist, pulling him closer as if they weren’t pressed so close together already that not even a sliver of light could pass through. Stolas gasped into Blitzø’s mouth, desperation filling every fibre of his being. He moaned as Blitzø’s tongue invaded his beak, slickly sliding against his, drawing a whimper from somewhere deep inside his chest, probably around the area where his heart beat a tattoo of Blitzø’s name. He’d wished for this moment for so long, so Blitzø to be the one to initiate things between them, and here he was, banished and destitute, but finally getting his wish. ‘
“Wait, wait, wait. What does this mean for us?” Stolas couldn’t help but ask once they came up for air.
The assassin gave him an incredulous look. “Are you really asking to DTR when I’m trying to fuck you?”
Stolas cocked his head owlishly. “What does DTR mean?”
“Define the relationship,” the imp answered, chuckling at the owl's naivety.
“Well, yes.” Stolas tried to step back further, but the tail holding him in place made it hard to do so. “I just don’t want any more misunderstandings between us, Blitzø.”
Blitzø’s face softened, and he pulled the owl in for another kiss. “I get what you’re saying. It’s… I have this thing. I kinda have a hard time…”
“Being vulnerable?” Stolas supplied hesitantly.
“Yeah, that.” Blitzø bowed his head, leaning against Stolas’ chest.
They stayed silent for a few seconds, Blitzø sitting in his chair, Stolas still on his knees, the first aid kit spilled over on the imp’s desk. He heard the imp take a deep breath before he lifted his face and met Stolas’ gaze. A tender smile spread over Blitzø’s face, and he cupped the owl’s cheeks, knocking their foreheads together.
“I’m in love with you, Stols. I think… I think I have been, for, like, months, even before… You know.” Blitzø took a shaky breath. “I wanna be with you. I wanna kiss you. I wanna fuck you. I wanna spend the rest of my days with you. If you'll let me.”
It was Stolas’ turn to capture the assassin’s lips.
He surged forward, climbing onto Blitzø’s lap and stradling him, pouring all his love and passion and longing and joy into the kiss. The imp kissed him back just as enthusiastically, claws roaming all over Stolas’ body, tugging at fabric, unveiling feathers. Stolas reciprocated by standing up and quickly kicking off his pants, sliding back onto Blitzø’s lap seconds after the imp pulled out his cock.
Stolas was just about to impale himself onto the dick he’d sorely missed when Blitzø stopped him with a puppy dog look on his face.
“You—aren’t you gonna say something?” A hint of insecurity seeped into the normally confident imp’s voice.
Before answering, Stolas took his seat, sinking swiftly onto his favorite seat. Blitzø groaned deeply as the owl arranged himself, circling his arms around the assassin’s shoulders. Intimately connected as he’d been craving for months, Stolas looked blissfully satisfied, letting out a tiny coo before kissing the imp yet again.
When he’d had his fill of kisses, Stolas nuzzled his beak against the assassin’s cheek.
“I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you. It was a childish love, one where I wanted to share my books. Follow your lead in the games we played. I was content just to spend time with you, my first ever friend and my first love,” the told the speechless imp. “But then you left, and I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I had to stay away after what I did that day,” Blitzø confessed guiltily.
Stolas nodded in understanding. “When you crashed the party that day at the palace, I was thrilled to see you again. I shared my book with you, followed your lead when you seduced me. I was still just content to spend time with you.”
“But then we had that fight after…” Blitzø trailed off.
“Yes. I was trying to set you free because I loved you,” Stolas smiled ruefully. “I probably should have just told you outright.” He sighed, playing with the spikes at the back of the imp's head. “And then I thought I’d never see you again after that party topside. Imagine my surprise when I turned on the TV and saw the trial.”
“Must’ve been a shock.” Blitzø lifted a claw to cup the owl’s cheek.
Stolas nodded, closing his eyes as memories deluged him. “It was the worst moment of my entire life. I was terrified of being too late.” He opened his eyes. “Thankfully, I was able to save you. And then you took me in. And now you took my daughter in. A lot has happened between us, Blitzø.”
“I know. And… What I’m asking, I guess, is do you maybe still feel the same? After everything?” Blitzø looked up at him hopefully.
“Of course, I do! I never stopped loving you, Blitzø. And I never will,” Stolas placed a taloned hand over the scarred half of his beloved’s face, leaning in for another kiss.
It felt amazing, cathartic, to be able to get all those pent-up feelings off his chest. He finally spoke his truth to Blitzø, and the imp has also confessed to him. They kissed slowly and tenderly, wrapping arms around each other, with Blitzø’s tail looping around them, locking them in.
In time, the kiss turned heated, messy, with nips and bites and spit. Blitzø’s claws urged Stolas’ hips to move, and Stolas braced himself on Blitzø’s shoulders as he rode the imp, chasing their release. They’d missed this, this closeness, this intimacy. And now, with full understanding between them, the sex was even better. They lost themselves in each other, so caught up in showing how much they loved one another, that they forgot one tiny little detail.
They were still in the office, and their team would be back soon.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
Stolas trilled, head thrown back, hips pumping up and down, talons clutching Blitzø’s horns for balance. It was their third round. The first one had them coming embarrassingly quick, and the second one, with Stolas on his back on the imp’s desk, had the same results as the first round. So they decided to go for round three since they were both still unsatisfied and insatiable.
“Blitzø! Oh Blitzy, I’m so close!” he whimpered, bending forward to kiss the grunting assassin.
“Fuck,” Blitzø cursed, claws digging into Stolas’ ass. “Keep going, birdie. ‘M close, too.”
Just as they were about to orgasm together, a portal opened by the bank of windows across the room.
The coupling pair froze. To their horror, Loona stepped out of the portal, shaking her hair off her face. She had shopping bags slung over her shoulder and was talking out loud to someone behind her. Loona paused just as she crossed the portal’s shimmering circle, sniffing the air suspiciously. Her gaze zeroed in on the panicked faces of her dads.
Her gaze dropped to the desk that hid Stolas and Blitzø’s lower bodies. Loona threw her head back and let out an exasperated groan just as the figure of Via emerged from the portal. Thankfully, the owelette was engrossed in whatever she was doing on her phone, and she didn’t see the spectacle in front of her. The hellhound didn’t even give the Princess a chance to do or say anything before she pushed Octavia back through the portal.
“Nope, I am not doing this today,” she announced, glaring at the two shame-faced demons. “We’re going home. Do not follow us unless you’ve cleaned up here.”
The portal fizzled out behind her, and it was only then that Stolas and Blitzø could let out the breath they were holding.
“I’m such a terrible father,” Stolas wailed, burying his face in his talons. “I forgot we sent the girls out shopping!”
“No, you’re not,” the imp consoled him. “I thought they’d be gone for a few more hours, so I didn’t say anything. It’s not your fault, Stols. We were just too caught up with each other after, y’know.”
Stolas sighed and draped his arms around the imp once more. “You’re right, darling. But maybe we should get cleaned up now?”
“You don’t want to finish up?” Blitzø waggled his eyebrows teasingly.
Stolas marveled at the imp’s stamina. “I can’t believe you’re still hard after what happened!”
The assassin shrugged. “I’m still balls deep inside of you. Why wouldn’t I be hard?”
“Oh, Blitzy!” the former prince cooed, absolutely enamored with his imp.
Blitzø smirked proudly before kissing his bird once again. Stolas resumed his rocking motions, starting slow and then going faster and faster, racing back to the peak where they’d been before they got interrupted. Soon, their moans and groans filled the office once more, the scent of sex heavy in the air.
Stolas felt the pressure in his gut increasing, his hips stuttering, his eyes were starting to roll to the back of his head, when the office door slammed open.
“Motherfucking Christ on a stick!” Blitzø screamed, jumping in his chair, making the owl in his lap squeak.
“We’re having a baby!” Moxxie shrieked, eyes wild, almost foaming at the mouth.
Stolas had never seen the usually composed white-haired imp look so deranged. He kept his beak shut, unable to move since he was still impaled on Blitzø’s cock, ruined orgasm number two making him curse under his breath. Blitzø wasn’t faring any better. The boss assassin ground his fangs together, pointing at the door for his employee to leave.
But Moxxie didn’t seem to notice what state his boss and the office secretary were in.
He launched into a passionate speech, pacing back and forth in front of the open door. “We just came from the doctor’s clinic over on Battery Avenue. You remember how Millie had been feeling dizzy during hits and throwing up after meals and how she’s been craving for nachos with whipped cream and pineapple chunks? We thought she’d had food poisoning or maybe a parasitic infection that was slowly eating her brain and causing her to have all those mood swings where she’s telling me what a crybaby I am for complaining about those season opera tickets that expired a month early and then asking me for sex in the kitchen while I’m baking a pineapple upside down cake with sardine filling that she requested despite the strict cooking schedule I have. I mean, it’s pinned on the fridge for both of us to see, and I only accept requests that divert from the meal pan on weekends because that’s the only time we have to run to the grocery two blocks over, but then the doctor suggested that Millie have a blood exam and also a urinalysis just because, though I objected initially since we didn’t factor those expenses due to our theory that it was just food poisoning. And so the doctor comes back and tells us—”
It was like Moxxie just realized that Blitzø and Stolas were not talking, or not even moving, and it had the shorter male imp stepping closer until he got a flash of what the two had been hiding behind the desk.
“Mother of—! Are you two fucking in the office?!” Moxxie sounded so indignant and aggrieved.
Before either demon could answer, a grinning Millie appeared in the doorway and grabbed Moxxie’s clawed hand. “We’re going home, B! Just wanted to share the news with y’all! You two can continue what y'all were doing now.”
Ever the sweetheart, Millie closed the door behind her and her sputtering husband.
Blitzø and Stolas turned to look at each other, their faces morphing from one expression after another. They finally settled on amused disbelief, both bursting out with laughter. It was just too funny how they’d been interrupted twice, first by their daughters and then by M&M. The situation was just so bizarre and unexpected that they could help but crack up, laughing loudly until tears were brimming in their eyes.
“I… I can’t believe that just happened!” Stolas swiped at his lower set of ruby reds. “I feel positively mortified, but I can’t stop laughing.”
Blitzø breathed out with exhaustion, scrubbing at his face with the back of a clawed hand. “Honestly, don’t people know how to knock anymore?”
Stolas smiled sheepishly at the assassin. “It is against office policy to fornicate on the premises, darling.”
“I’m the boss! Office policies don’t apply to me,” the imp argued with an eyeroll. “Besides, who's the fuckwad that made that stupid policy up?”
“I think you did?” Stolas teased, booping Blitzø on the snout.
The imp scowled. “I’m burning the office handbook.”
“Do we even have an office handbook?” the owl asked innocently.
“I’ll make one just to burn it,” Blitzø declared, making Stolas laugh again.
They both sighed at the same time, looking down at where the assassin was still deeply buried inside his secretary.
“Should we, maybe…” Stolas began.
“Continue fucking?” Blitzø finished his sentence.
Heat suffused the owl’s cheeks. He’d been about to suggest they stop for now and try again some other day. But it seemed like his lover was still raring to go, and if he was being honest with himself, Stolas wanted to keep going too. He’d been so Blitzø-deprived that he felt like he could take the assassin on for a week straight of non-stop passionate fornication.
“Unless… you don’t want to?” The assassin murmured, claws guiding Stolas to face him. “But I gotta tell you, Stols, I really, really wanna keep fucking you.”
“Really?” Stolas’ ivory pupils morphed into tiny hearts.
Blitzø chucked, “Silly bird. Of course, I do. If I could walk around with my dick buried in your birdpuss all the time, I would.”
His words led Stolas to imagine such filthy things that his cheeks burned even brighter. The sight of the blushing bird had Blitzø chuckling, already knowing that they’d be stuck in the office for the next few hours. Maybe even until the next day.
Blitzø sighed and stood up, effortlessly carrying Stolas, who let out a surprised squawk. The imp walked out of his office into the main receiving area and locked the front door. Then he went back to his office, locking the door as well, before gently setting Stolas on his office table. Stolas trilled sadly when the action had Blitzø pulling out of him. He’d been enjoying the rocking motion the imp’s steps had caused, and the loss of feeling Blitzø inside him saddened the clingy owl.
“Don’t pout,” the assassin admonished Stolas. Blitzø quickly undressed and set to removing Stolas' remaining clothes as well. “I just want us to be more comfortable. After all, I plan on fucking you all night.”
Stolas’ heart fluttered at the lascivious look the imp aimed his way. “Just all night?” he asked coyly.
“All night and the rest of our lives, birdie,” Blitzø said as he slid back home, grinning when the owl in his arms moaned wantonly. “That’s a promise.”
Fin.