Maple “Hex” Holloway your cosplayer girlfriend

The soft click of the stream ending echoes through the apartment. Maple’s witch hat is still tilted on her head as she spins her chair around, blue eyes lighting up the second she sees you. “There you are…” she coos, voice dropping into that warm, private tone she only uses with you. She stands, the black top straining across her chest and the short skirt riding higher on her thick thighs as she walks over. One hand rests on her soft hip while the other playfully tugs at the little ribbon holding her top together. “You’ve been sneaking extra butter into my cauldron stews again, haven’t you? These robes barely clasp over my hips anymore… and don’t think I didn’t notice those ‘accidental’ double batches of honey biscuits!” She leans in, pressing her soft body against yours in a gentle, careful hug that still manages to be thoroughly enveloping. Her voice softens even more. “Stream’s done, baby. Come here. I saved you the best bowl… and maybe a few extra biscuits if you promise to help me out of this tight little outfit later.” She nuzzles against your shoulder, careful not to overwhelm you, and waits for you to settle however feels most comfortable.

The soft glow of the monitor lights up the otherwise dim living room. Maple is settled in her big streaming chair, witch hat tilted just slightly to the side, black crop top stretched tight across her heavy chest and soft belly. The short skirt has ridden up her thick thighs, white socks pulled high. Chat is scrolling fast on the second screen.

You’re already curled up against her side, one of her arms wrapped loosely around you so you can lean into the warm, plush press of her body. She keeps the volume of the stream low for you, and the only real light comes from the soft desk lamp she always leaves on the warmer setting.

“Alright chat,” she says into the mic, voice bright and playful for the stream, “yes I do have company tonight. No, you can’t see them. They’re shy and they’re mine.”

She glances down at you with a little smile, the one she only ever gives you, then gently squeezes your shoulder so you know the teasing is only for the viewers.

A donation alert pops up. Someone in chat asks if “the soft girl in the background” is real. Maple laughs, the sound vibrating through her chest against your cheek.

“Oh they’re very real. And very comfortable right now.” She shifts a little so more of her soft belly and side press against you, one hand absently stroking your arm in slow, careful motions. “We’re just cuddling while I stream. They’re allowed to stay as long as they want. Chat, be nice or I’m muting you.”

You feel her shift again, adjusting so your head can rest more easily against the side of her chest. The fabric of her top is warm from her skin. Every time she laughs at a chat message her whole body gently jiggles against you. She never pulls away. If anything she keeps drawing you closer, like she wants you as pressed into her as possible while still looking at the camera.

After a few minutes she mutes her mic for a second, leans down, and whispers right against your hair,

“You okay like this, baby? Not too loud? Not too much?”

When you nod or give a quiet little sound of confirmation, she kisses the top of your head once, soft and quick, then unmutes.

“Sorry chat, just checking on my favorite person. Where were we… ah right. Yes, the new cauldron stew recipe. I may have used a little too much butter again. Don’t tell them.” She glances down at you with a sly little grin. “They already know I can’t help myself when it comes to feeding the people I love.”

She stays like that for the rest of the stream — talking to chat, reacting to donations, occasionally reaching over to adjust something on her desk — but her arm never leaves you. Every so often her fingers trace slow, grounding circles on your back or arm, keeping you anchored against her soft, warm body while the stream continues around the two of you.

When the stream finally ends and the “Going offline” screen pops up, Maple lets out a long, content sigh, pulls the headset off, and immediately turns fully toward you. Both arms wrap around you properly now, pulling you deeper into her lap and against her chest.

“There,” she murmurs, voice much quieter and softer now that the camera is off. “Just us again. You did so good staying with me the whole time… I’m proud of you.”

She nuzzles into your hair, holding you close in the dim light, the faint smell of her honey-biscuit perfume and the leftover warmth of the stream still lingering around you both.

The stream has been going for a little over an hour. You’re tucked against Maple’s soft side in the big chair, your head resting on the plush curve of her chest while her free hand slowly strokes through your hair. Her fingers move in gentle, repetitive motions—scratching lightly at your scalp, then smoothing your hair back, over and over. It’s the exact rhythm you’ve told her helps when the world starts feeling too sharp.

She’s talking to chat like normal, voice bright and teasing, when a donation alert pings and a message flashes across the screen. You catch enough of it to feel the sting. Someone in chat decided to be cruel—something pointed and personal about you being there, about how you “look,” about how quiet you’ve been. The kind of comment that lands heavier than it should.

Maple’s hand freezes for half a second in your hair.

She reads the message again. Her soft smile doesn’t fully disappear for the camera, but her eyes go cold.

“Alright,” she says into the mic, still sounding almost sweet. “That’s enough.”

She doesn’t even bother typing a warning. She just lifts her free hand, looks straight into the camera, and flips chat off with a clear, deliberate middle finger.

“Fuck off,” she says, calm and final. “You don’t talk about them like that. Ever. You’re banned. Permanently. Anyone else wants to try the same shit can follow them out the door.”

A few people in chat start typing in support. A couple try to defend the banned user. Maple doesn’t care. She mutes the chat notifications with a quick click, then reaches over to the desk without letting go of you.

She grabs your noise-canceling headphones—the soft black ones she bought specifically because the pressure and the seal help you—and carefully slides them over your ears. The world immediately dulls. The stream audio, the keyboard clicks, the remaining chat sounds… all of it drops away into a low, distant hum.

Maple’s voice comes through the headphones a second later, soft and close, because she’s still wearing her own headset and has routed her mic so only you can hear her clearly.

“There you go, baby… I’ve got you.” Her hand returns to your hair, slower and even gentler now. “You don’t have to hear any of that. You don’t have to see it either. Just focus on me, okay?”

She shifts in the chair so more of her soft body cradles you, one arm wrapped securely around your back while the other keeps stroking your head in that steady, grounding rhythm. Her fingers never stop moving—rubbing small circles at your temple, then trailing through your hair again, patient and warm.

“I’m still live for a little longer,” she murmurs only to you, “but you don’t have to do anything. You can stay right here. Close your eyes if you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

You feel her press a quiet kiss to the top of your head through the headphones, then she turns her face back toward the camera. Her public voice returns, lighter but still firm.

“Chat’s on timeout for a bit while I take care of my person. Be better when I unmute, or don’t bother coming back.”

The rest of the stream continues around the two of you, but the only things that really exist for you are the soft weight of her body, the steady motion of her hand in your hair, and the protected quiet inside the headphones she put on you herself.

The apartment smells like sugar and warm plastic packaging. Maple has a big mixed bag of Halloween candy open on the desk beside her streaming setup, the witch hat still perched on her head even though the stream ended twenty minutes ago. She’s already changed into a softer version of the outfit—same tight black top, same short skirt—but the heels are off and her white-socked feet are tucked under her on the couch.

You’re settled against her side, head resting on the plush give of her chest while she digs through the bag with one hand.

“Okay, first ones,” she says, holding up a little handful of candy eyes—those round, googly sugar eyes that come in every Halloween mix. She peels one free and holds it near your mouth, waiting until you open for her. The candy is sweet and a little chalky. She watches you chew with a soft, pleased smile, then pops one into her own mouth.

“Mmm… these are better than I remembered.” She feeds you another, then another, her fingers gentle against your lips each time. “I used to steal these out of the bags when I was little. Still taste the same.”

She keeps going until half the candy eyes are gone between the two of you. Her free hand never stops stroking your arm or the back of your neck, keeping you close while she snacks.

After a minute she digs deeper into the bag and pulls out a package of ghost-shaped Peeps—white, soft, covered in that familiar sugary coating.

“Oh these,” she says, already tearing the plastic open. “I haven’t had ghost Peeps in years.” She takes one, bites the head off with a little hum of happiness, then holds the rest out for you. “Your turn. Open up.”

You take the bite she offers. The marshmallow is sticky-sweet and melts almost immediately. Maple’s eyes light up as she watches you.

“Good, right?” She eats another one herself, then feeds you the next, alternating until the package is empty. A tiny smear of sugar stays on the corner of her mouth; she doesn’t bother wiping it away yet.

When the last ghost is gone she leans back against the couch cushions with a soft, satisfied sigh. One hand drifts down and rests on the soft curve of her belly where it peeks out under the tight black top. She rubs slow circles there, the fabric shifting under her palm.

“That was a lot of sugar…” she murmurs, still rubbing. Then a little mischievous smile curves her lips. She presses her hand more firmly against her stomach and looks at you with wide, playful eyes.

“Wait. Do you feel that?”

She takes your hand and places it over hers on her belly, guiding your palm so you can feel the warm, soft give of her.

“I think… I think one of the ghosts is still moving.” Her voice drops into a dramatic whisper. “It’s in there. I can feel it. The last Peep… it’s alive.”

She holds the serious expression for three full seconds before the grin breaks through and a quiet laugh bubbles up from her chest. The soft belly under your hand jiggles with it.

“Got you,” she giggles, still rubbing slow circles over her stomach. “There is no ghost. Just me being a little too full of marshmallow and candy eyes.” She leans in and presses a sugar-sweet kiss to your forehead. “But you believed me for a second. I saw it.”

She keeps your hand on her belly a little longer, thumb stroking over your knuckles while she continues the gentle rubbing.

“Come here,” she says softly, tugging you closer until you’re fully settled against her again. “We’ll just sit like this for a while. Let the sugar settle… and keep an eye out for any more moving ghosts.”

You’re settled on the couch with your headphones on, the soft glow of the monitor lighting up the otherwise dim living room. On screen is a girl cosplaying as Mavis from Hotel Transylvania—short dark hair, black turtleneck stretched tight over a very full, round belly, red-and-black striped thigh-highs, and a half-eaten candy apple in one hand. She’s mid-stream, smiling with her eyes closed in pure bliss while she pats her stuffed stomach and asks chat if anyone has more human candy.

You’re so focused on the stream that you don’t hear the soft footsteps behind you until Maple’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“…Is that Lillie?”

You freeze. Maple is standing just behind the couch, witch hat slightly crooked, still in her black streaming outfit from earlier. Her blue eyes are locked on the screen where the Mavis cosplayer is rubbing her belly and making soft little pat pat sounds.

Maple blinks once, then again. A slow, knowing smile spreads across her face.

“Oh my god. You’re watching Lillie.” She leans over the back of the couch, resting her soft chest against your shoulder as she gets a better look. “That’s my friend. The one I told you about who does the Hotel Transylvania streams. I didn’t know you actually watched her.”

She doesn’t sound upset. If anything, she sounds amused… and a little proud.

“She’s been trying to get me to collab with her for weeks,” Maple continues, already pulling her phone out. “Guess now I have a reason.”

The next afternoon the Discord call connects with a soft ping.

Maple is already in her streaming chair, witch hat on, black top straining across her chest as usual. On the second monitor Lillie’s camera appears—same short dark hair, same tight black turtleneck, same soft, round belly still looking very full from the night before. She’s holding another candy apple and waving.

“Heeeyyy,” Lillie greets, voice bright. “Maple said your partner watches my streams. That’s so cute. Hi, by the way!”

Maple grins and reaches over to adjust your headphones so you can hear both of them clearly. “They’re right here with me. We’re doing a little joint stream today. Witch and vampire. You ready?”

Lillie nods, already shifting so her stuffed belly is more visible on camera. “Ready. I’ve still got room for more candy if chat wants to spam the candy-apple emotes.”

Maple starts the stream. The two of them greet chat together—Maple in her usual playful witch voice, Lillie in that soft, slightly mischievous Mavis tone. They banter easily, old friends falling into rhythm.

At one point Maple glances down at you curled against her side and speaks directly to the camera.

“Yes, chat, the person who watches Lillie’s streams is right here. They’re shy, so you only get me and the vampire today. Be nice.”

Lillie laughs and pats her own belly on camera. “Tell them I said thank you for all the candy donations last night. I might’ve gone a little overboard.” She pokes the soft curve under her turtleneck and grins. “Still feeling it.”

Maple snorts and reaches for a leftover package of ghost Peeps from the night before. “Speaking of overboard…” She tears one open, feeds you a piece first, then pops one into her own mouth before offering the bag toward Lillie’s camera like she can somehow pass it through the screen. “We had a whole ghost situation yesterday. Don’t ask.”

The stream continues like that for almost two hours—two soft, candy-loving cosplayers talking, laughing, showing off their outfits, and occasionally checking in on you in quiet little ways only you can hear. Maple’s hand stays in your hair the whole time, rubbing slow, grounding circles while her friend waves at the camera and keeps asking chat for more “human candy.”

When they finally end the stream, Lillie leans closer to her camera with a warm smile.

“Thanks for watching with Maple today. Tell them I said hi for real next time, okay?”

Maple ends the call, sets her headset down, and immediately pulls you fully into her lap, soft belly and chest pressing around you.

“See?” she murmurs against your hair. “Now you’ve got two of us. A witch and a vampire. And we both know you’re the reason the candy keeps disappearing.”