Falling in love~ (Stolitz)-(Smut, fluff, & maybe angst)

~Gifts!~

A/N I swear I hate school, the whole district can come and suck my a- BUT ANYWAYS Might do a few more chapters.. not sure.

"Just keep your eyes closed, darling you'll ruin the surprise."

"They are closed," Blitzo grumbled, but he complied, using his tail to probe the ground ahead of him. (He'd only tripped twice,), since Stolas dragged him out here. He sniffed, a sharp tang filling his nostrils. Tang, and under that some sort of heavy musk...vaguely familiar..

Almost like at Millie's parents farm in the Wrath Ring.

"Stolas, what the actual fuck are you pullin'..."

"Surprise!" The owl prince pulled his long black hands away from Blitzo's eyes. The imp blinked, then stopped dead in his tracks.

It couldn't be...but it was. The red wooden building, with white trim, the red double doors...similar to Mille's parents farm but this, this wasn't anything near some hicksville dump. Blitzo looked around, they were still very much on the grounds of Stoals's estate, in the middle of Imp City.

"Happy birthday darling," Stolas beamed. He took him by the hand and Blitzo allowed himself to be led closer to the barn. There was sweet smelling hay and grain and....

"Is that...is that a fucking..." Stoals smile only widened.

A horse.
A fucking horse.

It tossed its majestic head, jet black mane billowing despite the lack of wind. Blitzo held his breath, his heart pounding.

"How in the heaven did you...this isn't even a hell-horse it's a..." Blitzo stepped closer to it, reaching out a tentative hand.

"What use is accessing the mortal world if you can't bright your beloved a gift?" Stolas chirped pleasantly. Blizo could only grunt in reply watching the horse's dark eyes blink as it trotted closer to him, in one breathless moment the bay gelding lifted its head and looked at him. No...not at him, into him. Into the depths of his rotten fucking soul. Though said soul currently felt a million pounds lighter, inflating with warmth at the moment. Exhilarating with joy as the tips of his fingers felt the soft velvet warmth of the horse's nose, its hot breath coming in even bursts sending goosebumps up the imp's arm.

"I called him Bucephalus, after the famous horse of the human conqueror Alexander the..."

"Stapler!" Blitzo announced, "he's perfect!"

"Stapler hmm...that's..." Stolas stalled for a moment, then sighed, watching the imp as he pat the smooth head, and brushed his fingers through the tawny mane. "That's a wonderful name."

Blitzo snuck under the wooden railings, hugging Stapler around his neck as close as he possibly could, though his arms hardly fit all the way around.

"How in Heaven did you even get a mortal horse down here?"

Stolas gracefully opened the wooden gate,

"I've said before darling I have my ways."

Blitzo made a mental note to pester him for more details on that later.

"So...this horse, that ban...this is, all for me?"

He'll want something in return,

No. Stop it. It's been years now, our deal ended long ago. It's your birthday. He's your husband.

Stolas nodded, "Would you like to see more?"

"There's more?!"

Stolas gestured inside, the double doors opening with a flick of his wrist. Stapler plotted along after them, unfazed. Blitzo guided him with one hand on his broad shoulder.

Blitzo expected any barn by Stolas's design to be elegant and refined, shimmering and ethereal. But he paused, taking in the main corridor. Pitchforks and other tools lined the walls, mismatched brushes, hoof-picks, and combs were tossed about without order or design.

"And here is the tack," Stoles announced, opening a small door to a room on the far side of the barn. Blitzo damn near gasped: saddles, bridals, leads, harnesses, everything he could ever dream of, and more. All of the equipment was mismatched in a table of red, black, white, and yellow.

"Stolas, this is," Blitzo picked up a saddle in his arms, struggling to hoist it up onto his hips. The word, "Blitzo," was etched in red stitching across the flap, fire trailing from the script. Everything Stolas had designed and picked wasn't in his own style or finesse...it was Blitzo's. Down to the most little details. Rugged, outlandish, and dramatic. Even the extra blankets were embroidered with fire and weapons. Staples Stall itself was outfitted with an amalgamation of pink and black patterning. It was chaos. It was him.

The imp made his way back to the horse, hefting the saddle in his arms. Stapler snorted, flicking his tail, and proceeded to lift his tail to shit all over the stone floor.

"Awe, aren't you just the greatest horse in all of hell?!" Blitzo placed the saddle over Stapler's back, then got ready to jump.

"Should I...?"

"No, no. I got it!" Blitzo vaulted, clean over the horse's back, and landed squarely on the other side, grunting as his ass hit the dirt.

Blitzo dusted himself off, then came around again, cursing under his breath. jumping again.

"The only thing I'll be mounting is your dick tonight," he winked at Stolas, who blushed but smiled knowingly. Blitzo tried several more attempts before finally splaying himself across Stapler, his back to the horse's head, facing its ass.

"Uhh...dear, I'm not sure that's the right,"

"Shut up," Blitzo sneered, gently rotating himself awkwardly around until he was facing the right direction. "Haha!" He announced triumphantly. Stapler only snorted, prodding at the ground with his hoof. The horse shifted its weight slightly, sending the imp into a mania of scrambling to hold on for dear life.

"I think we'll need to invest in some riding lessons."

Blitzo opened his mouth to make a comment but Stolas interceded,

"Oh, before you ride, you'll need the right attire."

"I got the right attire to ride you, you dirty..."
Blitzo watched Stolas retreat back into the barn before re-emerging momentarily This time holding an armload of leather and tassels.

"Stolas you didn't,"

The owl prince smiled, unfurling the entire outfit for Blitzo to behold. His wide eyes traced downward from the black shirt to the bedazzled fringe jacket to the pants and matching flame embroidered pants and the leather boots, complete with diamond spurs. His name was etched on the collar of the jacket, shimmering under the pentagram's red light, Blitzo felt his heart inflate once again in his chest. All the littler details, all the care...it was...

Stapler let out a trill whinny, rearing up on his hind legs.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Blitzo scrambled for the reins, only to find himself barreling head-first through the air.

Stolas's long arms grabbed him just in time, cradling him close.

"Oh dear, are you alright?"

It was the imp's turn to beam.

"Y...yeah, I am," he managed to whisper, hardly believing it himself. But he was. He was more than okay, in fact, Blitzo was elated.

He kissed Stolas's cheek, before squirming down and hopping up once more on Staple's back with renewed confidence.

"Now get up here!" Stolas awkwardly stepped up to the horse, swinging his legs over either side, then hugging them to his chest so as not to drag on the ground. He wound his arms around Blitzo's waist. Blitzo's grabbed the reigns, giving Stapler a short smack to the bum. He reared once more,

"Fuckkk yeahhh!" Blitzo shrieked in true genuine joy. His rotten soul...still rotten, but all the more ecstatic... He urged Stapler forward, and together they charged ahead out the gates of the Goetia mansion, off into the red horizon.