#ticklish!blitz

“You…what?”

Blitzø did a double take at the suggestion, quirking one of his brows. What did he just say?

“W-we don't have to, of course. I'd just, you know…like to get playful.” Stolas could feel his face heat up as he repeated the words, making it hard to look the imp in the eyes. He'd just kind of blurted it out the first time; he wasn't expecting anything to come of it.

“Uh…sure? I mean, I knew you liked it rough, so it's not a giant fuckin’ surprise. I can do that, if you want to.” Blitzø’s tone was about as nonchalant as he could get, but there was a sign of care behind them.

While he’d never admit it, he did kinda want to make Stolas happy. He didn't want the bird to leave.

Stolas had asked to have a little play fight, seeing what would happen when they each tried to pin the other.

“Oh! Yes, I would like that. Do you want me to initiate, or-”

Before he could even finish speaking, Blitzø pounced, using gravity and force to wrestle the bird to the mattress. It wasn't like they hadn't been rough before; they'd just never done anything that physical without a hand somewhere else.

Stolas gasped as he was shoved down, his eyes widening with giddy surprise. He was kind of expecting to take control, but it wasn't unpleasant by far. He gently ran his hands down the shorter man’s chest, delighting in the shiver it caused.

The sounds, however, were unexpected.

“S-Stoholas- knock that shit off!” The imp tried to growl at least semi-seductively, but his voice was a few pitches too high. Odd…Stolas hadn’t done anything besides stroke his chest. Maybe he was embarrassed about liking it?

Tentatively, Stolas repeated the motion, stroking from Blitzø’s collarbones to his stomach. That time, he caught a grin tugging at the red-skinned imp’s lips, his stomach quivering beneath the touch. Oh. Oh!

“Are you perhaps ticklish, Blitzy?”

That single question sent all the giddy, not-used-to-soft-shit panic alarms off in Blitzø’s head. He tried to snatch Stolas’s wrists, but the bird fought back for once, fluttering his fingers beneath the imp’s outstretched arm. Damn it, why’d he always have to take his shirt off so quickly?

Blitzø jerked back, Stolas quickly following. Stolas caught his wrist to keep him from falling off the bed, giving the imp enough time to squeeze the bird’s thigh. A sound between a groan and a giggle left his mouth, causing a competitive fire to light in his eyes. Oh, it was on!

The pair wrestled with each other, each trying to get the upper hand in the tickly tousle. Blitzø was using brute strength, trying to pin Stolas before he was overpowered. The bird would just target any exposed spot when that happened, fluttering his fingers over them to see his “it’s complicated” partner's lips twitch. Retaliation was swift, the pokey tip of Blitzø’s tail teasing wherever it could reach.

After two solid minutes of strangled yelps, giggles, and lots of manhandling, Stolas managed to straddle the thrashing imp and pin his arms above his head. He could have accomplished it much sooner with his powers, but that just didn’t seem fair to him.

Blitzø thrashed like a wild animal beneath the taller demon, a feral scowl on his face. In his eyes, however, Stolace could see the giddiness he was trying to suppress. “G-get the fuck offa me, you feathered fucking asshole!”

“I don’t think I will, darling. This seems much more…amusing~” The word alone wasn’t anything special, but that tone… Let’s just say Blitzø’s heart felt like it was trying to eject out his throat.

Stolas started out soft, testing the waters. Gentle, fluttering fingers trailed along Blitzø’s stomach, tracing lazing circles around his navel. A gurgling sound rumbled in the imp’s throat – an adorable attempt to keep from giggling. Stolas felt his heart flutter at the sight.

“Aww, does it tickle, Blitzy? Does it make you want to giggle and squirm like the adorable little baby you are?~” Stolas teased, unable to stop himself from going a little overboard. While it was definitely over the top, it seemed to do the trick, causing Blitzø’s cheeks to burn.

“Sh-shuhut- fuck! Shut up!” The short man cursed the giggle that escaped him, thrashing twice as hard beneath the gentle touch. He refused to react so quickly. He wasn’t weak, and he’d prove it whenever necessary. Apparently, he deemed the tail-end of a tickle fight necessary.

“You can laugh, you know. I promise you that I won’t judge.” Stolas’s tone grew soft and affectionate as he spoke. “Actually, I think I’ll find it quite adorable.”

Those words made Blitzø’s eyes widen and mind race. It was…it was an angle. Had to be. Why else would a literal prince be so affectionate towards a scummy imp like him?

“Shut your fucking- ACK! G-gehehet ohoff!” The imp’s dam finally burst when Stolas dipped one feathery finger into his navel, twirling and scratching against the sensitive skin. His giggles were loud and punchy, the sound a bit higher and sweeter than his normal speech.

“Hmm. Since you’re being so mean, I don’t think I will. I’m quite content to stay right here, teasing your cute little belly button,” he hummed, enjoying himself as he teased the imp. There was something about the light and gentle teasing that just made it all so fun.

“Gohoho fuhuhuck youhurself, smuhuhug prihihihick!” Sure, Blitzø was probably digging his own grave by mouthing off, but he wasn’t just gonna lie there and take it! He kept on squirming, even though he was starting to tire himself out with all the movement.

“What a naughty mouth, saying such things to me. I think that deserves some punishment.” With a knowing chuckle, Stolas’s hand traveled upwards, grazing Blitzø’s ribs. The imp had always gotten squirmy when he touched there; now the bird knew why.

“GAAH! W-wahahAHAHAIT! FUHUHUCK!” Blitzø’s back arched off the bed as his poor ribs were targeted, thrashing as wildly as his tired body would allow. He could practically feel his blood boiling beneath the skin on his cheeks.

The imp was losing his Satan-forsaken mind. It had been years since he was properly tickled, and even then, it was nothing like that.

What he was experiencing in that moment were the affectionate tickles of someone who just wanted to see him laugh and be happy for the fun of it. No matter how wild his denial pool was, that truth floated up to the top.

His tail was a little narc, twitching and occasionally thumping against the mattress. Stolas found it endearing, letting out hooty chuckles when he noticed.

“It seems like someone’s enjoying himself~”

The worst part was, Blitzø couldn’t deny it. He really was enjoying himself, as overwhelming and crazy as the touch was. It felt nice to truly laugh without any expectations or true thought going into it – just a mirthful reaction that somehow shut his brain off.

It took a solid ten minutes of the “torture,” but finally, Blitzø caved. He had tears of mirth beading in the corners of his eyes, and his sides ached from laughing so hard. Barely coherent, he screeched out their designated safeword.

“H-HOHORSERAHADISH!”

Stolas stopped instantly when he heard their safeword, knowing his imp had to be truly exhausted to use it. He released the panting, disoriented man’s arms, instead lying down to cuddle up next to him.

Blitzø usually grumbled and “protested” the cuddles, but he couldn’t bring himself to that time; the back pats and stomach rubs he was getting from Stolas were too good, and the man was so warm. If he was going to be embarrassed, he was at least gonna sleep well and feel happy.

“Thank you for trusting me with that, Blitz.” There was that soft tone again, shaking the foundation of Blitzø’s trusting policy. He seriously needed to go to a therapist… Well, if he could find one that didn’t make him wanna kill them and then himself..

“I didn’t trust you with shit…” Blitzø was lying, and Stolas knew it. Hell, anyone could’ve guessed it by the lack of biting venom in his tone. He truly did enjoy that…

Stolas went to argue, but noticed the imp’s droopy eyelids and coiled tail; he was on the verge of passing out. The bird didn’t want to interfere with that. He simply kissed the man’s bald head before snuggling close, letting his own eyes close.