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It was their one-year anniversary, (officially speaking, from the day they’d actually agreed to be partners, even if they’d been something for so much longer) and Stolas had a plan to enact.
Blitzø had made him breakfast in bed, complete with a potted folium mordens wrapped in a bow, to help kick start Stolas’s attempts to rebuild a garden on their new balcony. After all, there was no longer a stuffy landlord to call the vegetation a ‘fire hazard’. The post-trial boost in business had allowed them to pull together enough for a deposit on a three-bed apartment, complete with a private balcony.
In turn, he’d offered up some horse memorabilia he knew Blitzø’s eye had been on for a while. The imp had been absolutely distraught when he’d been too tied up on a hit to snipe the auction at the last moment. It had taken all of Stolas’s willpower not to tell him that it was probably for the best, given that Stolas had sent them on the mission specifically so he could place a bid high enough to deter anyone else from outbidding. Anyone, but Blitzø.
He only hoped that his request to head home early wasn’t a veil thin disguise for preparing his second gift for the day. But how quickly and easily Blitzø agreed suggested that Stolas wasn’t the only one with plans.
After all of the time they’d spent together, Stolas had learned a considerable amount about Blitzø, and how to read him. The closest thing to an expert that one could get without being the man himself. Or at least, Stolas liked to think so.
As their relationship had blossomed into something real and tangible, they’d both managed to untangle parts of each other that nobody else had even seen. He’d uncovered tender sides of the assassin, soft, uncertain, eager, and shown deeper parts of himself too.
It was as frightening as it was exciting, knowing someone, and being known in return. But Blitzø had always been exceptionally good at making fear become comfortable, wanted even. Stolas could only hope he provided a shred of that feeling in return. Blitzø deserved more than a pitiful, washed up—
No. They’d spoken about this many times, about the voices in his head and how he couldn’t let them linger. He drowned them out with Blitzø’s gentle affirmations, the sweet, loving kisses peppered over every inch of him.
After all, the train of thought was leading up to something that he couldn’t let his doubts and fears start to take over.
As much as he had come to learn about Blitzø, the man he was, his hopes and fears, the one thing they’d always known about one another was what the other enjoyed physically. Even when their relationship had been nothing more than sex, and everything else, wonderful and magical, had been kept under lock and key, they had shared physical intimacy with such simple ease. With so many nights spent together, Stolas knew what Blitzø liked, and nowadays, when they stumbled upon something new, it was a surprise to the both of them.
Which was why some of the doubts were poised to roll in the moment he let his guard down. Because Stolas knew Blitzø, knew what he liked, and where his fingers lingered, gentle or desperate. And he knew that what they craved, he had never been able to supply.
Claws dug into his thighs, and he felt the hold so keenly, knew that when they trailed over his hips, they could no doubt feel the bone guarded by nothing more than feathers and skin. Blitzø had never said as much, but Stolas could tell that those hands longed for more, they wanted to sink into something that wasn’t there. Softness.
If the tightness of the hold hadn’t been enough of an indicator, then Blitzø’s hearty portions and the small, concerned glances he cast when he believed Stolas wasn’t looking, would have made it obvious.
Even before Blitzø, Stolas had known that he’d benefit from filling out a little. Stella had always taunted him about his slender frame, and even without her goading he was sure that his ribs weren’t supposed to protrude quite so much.
So when he and Blitzø had become a thing, he’d expected it, welcomed it even, the softness that came with love- real, comfortable love. And Blitzø filled out handsomely, a little bit of padding that made Stolas’s heart flutter. It was a testament to their growing comfort with one another, both Blitzø’s slightly altered appearance, but also the fact that he willingly admitted that he was uncertain about the changes. Stolas had set the record straight of course, had lavished the softness in the imp’s thighs and belly with gentle but hungry kisses and told him over and over about how strong and handsome and perfect he was.
Was it selfish to want the same?
Blitzø still loved him, he accepted that now, sang praises about how beautiful he was, but they sometimes rang hollow. Even if Stolas’s heart had fallen completely and utterly, his body refused to follow. He ate every lovingly crafted meal, they never held back when it came to dates, basking in the joy rather than the effect it would have on their bodies. And yet even as Blitzø’s body bowed to the love, Stolas’s refused to submit.
But now he’d found a solution, he could set that right, he could give Blitzø what he deserved.
-
Creeping into their apartment, Stolas’s eyes flicked over the room as if he might be caught. Blitzø was still at the office and likely would be for the rest of the afternoon, and the girl’s had both made it clear that they knew it was their anniversary and would be giving the apartment a wide berth. He was the only one at home.
Finally relaxing and letting out a sigh of relief, Stolas crossed the room to pluck the present from its hiding place.
If he’d stashed it away in their room, Blitzø would have inevitably found it, every nook and cranny filled with the things they didn’t want the girls to stumble on. But another addition to his bookshelf would go completely unnoticed, especially one placed out of Blitzø’s eyeline.
Drawing the curtains closed to provide some privacy, he slid the old leather tome out of its home. Flicking it open to the page number he’d memorised; he started reading over the necessary spell.
When he’d had a fraction of his magic returned to him, he hadn’t expected to have to relearn decades worth of spells. Thankfully, the magic was starting to feel more familiar on his fingertips, and even if transformation spells were amongst the more difficult to master, he was only casting a temporary change, and that usually simplified matters.
Taking a deep breath, he recited the few words to tether himself, swirling his hand to gather the magical energy and forcing his will into his power. It reacted accordingly, a purple haze running down his body and making his feathers fluff in its wake. The added volume of his unsettled plumage already made him look a fraction wider, but he hoped there was more in store.
It took only a few seconds of bated breath for his body to truly react to the spell. He gasped in excitement as a tightness started to build in his lower torso and thighs. It was slow, but visible, the way his body pushed out a little further.
Unbelieving that he’d gotten it exactly right on his first try, he dropped the book onto the sofa and ran his claws over his thighs, smoothing down the feathers there to get a better look. His body inched outwards in every direction. His thighs seemed to take the brunt of it, but he could feel it in his ass and hips too. Softness that had long eluded him poured onto his frame.
After 10 seconds or so, when the extra thickness was undeniable, he muttered the words again, reining in his magic with a snap. The changes ceased instantly, and his body settled into its new, temporary state. His thighs were soft, pressing together, his hips had a definite curve, and his ass... As he looked over his shoulder, he was surprised by the round, pert cheeks he now possessed. A veritable pair of handfuls, even in Blitzø’s wide hands.
Absolutely elated by the spell’s potential, Stolas rushed towards their room, and dove across the bed, his plusher hip hit the sheets with a gentle thud. He couldn’t help but let out a hoot of excitement as he pulled out the lingerie he’d been hiding in his bedside drawer. The red lace was little more than a thong, but he’d ordered the wrong size initially, keeping it around in the hope it might one day fit, rather than just being a waste of his hard-earned pay check.
Shimmying into the scant fabric, it settled almost perfectly against his hips. His feathers did some of the work in holding the straps up, but they stayed!
The bright red was slightly hidden from his view though, and he prodded a slender finger into the little bit of pudge that had collected on his lower abdomen, the smallest pot belly. Hopefully Blitzø wouldn't mind. In comparison to the softness that had piled onto his hips and ass, it was barely noticeable, but now that he knew the spell, perhaps he could be more intentional with the placement.
Pulling on his robe, he returned to the living area, scooping up the book and reading over the instructions. Swirling his hand again, he regathered his magical energy, eyes scanning over the page as he muttered the words a second time. His current changes would take an hour to dissipate on their own, but surely, he could alter them whilst still in effect. Or maybe he could use an augmentation to—
The magic died on his fingertips as he heard the unmistakable sound of keys slotting into their front door. Eyes shooting to the entryway, he was barely given enough time to tie his robe, the chord still falling from his hands and cutting a little into his newly blossomed softness, when Blitzø stepped in the apartment, a brow lifting in suspicion.
“Blitzø! You- you’re home early?!” Stolas greeted, pulling on a smile, even as he twitched nervously.
It was clear his attempt at nonchalance was unsuccessful, Blitzø pulling on his own grin, tail flicking as he crossed the living room and explained, “I could smell how riled up you were Stols. You think I don’t know why you wanted to run away just after lunch?”
Stolas let out a gentle sigh, a real smile slipping into place as he muttered, “Ah, was it really that obvious?”
“M&M told me to come home and deal with you,” Blitzø explained as he slowly relieved himself of his coat, giving Stolas an absolutely delicious view of the way his turtleneck hugged his biceps and chest. “But usually you can't strip off fast enough when you hear me coming… Hiding something from me? Another present?”
The assassin could be so astute when he wanted to be.
“Just a little surprise,” Stolas answered, a blush rising on his cheeks as Blitzø drew ever closer. Taking a deep breath, Stolas forced his smile into something more suggestive as he continued with, “Something I hope you'll appreciate, a spot of magic.”
“Did you figure out how to get your magic cock back?!” Blitzø asked excitedly, his whole face lighting up and tail giving a single flick.
It almost felt cruel, to say “No,” and watch a brief moment of disappointment, before the grin returned.
Stolas had intended to draw the surprise out a little longer, but the waist tie was really becoming uncomfortable, tight enough that he could feel a light albeit concerning tingle, so he quickly announced, “I know how much you like to grab hold of me as you have your way, but that I'm rather lacking anything substantial to hold onto.”
“I mean, I love ploughing you no matter what,” Blitzø interrupted, the sentiment making Stolas’s mood feel lighter. Even if his body didn’t.
“I know, but I thought that- for once- you might appreciate something you can get your claws into.”
Blitzø looked at him sceptically, a brow raised, but curious, and with a sly smile of his own, Stolas pulled the chord around his waist loose, and shrugged the fabric off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor and pool around his talons.
It took a few seconds for Blitzø’s eyes to roam down his body appreciatively, before they went wide, fixated on Stolas’s hips.
They lingered their long enough that Stolas shifted gently, the new thickness feeling strange as he settled. A tightness bloomed in the pit of his belly and a blush was burning his cheeks, so dark Blitzø would probably be able to see it the moment he looked up.
Still, Stolas quietly cleared his throat and muttered, “Well, do you like it?”
Blitzø’s gaze slowly rose to Stolas’s, and then the imp moved in the blink of an eye.
Launching himself over the back of the sofa, his hands came to rest against Stolas’s hips, running down over pelvic bones that were now buried under a layer of fat and feathers. But Blitzø squeezed a little tighter, as if trying to find them, letting out an appreciative hum when the new softness dimpled under his hold.
His sly grin faltered a moment though, brows creasing. A pit of dread settled in Stolas’s middle, making it feel uncomfortably tight again, as Blitzø flicked that hesitant gaze up at him.
Voice so achingly soft, Blitzø muttered, “You know I love you already, right? Even if this is hot as shit, you’re so fucking beautiful, you don’t gotta change for me.”
The words made Stolas’s heart melt, flooding him with a warm comfort that left no space for the bitter self-hating thoughts to linger. They were the kind of words he’d spent so much of his life longing for, and Blitzø gave them out so freely now. “I-… I know. I just wanted to give you something a little special.”
A grin split Blitzø’s lips, tongue and tail both flicking gently in a way that made it clear he intended to enjoy his gift.
Hooking his arms under Stolas’s thighs, the imp managed to lift him briefly, before depositing him on the sofa with enough force that it pushed a hoot of excitement out of him. Immediately, fangs were at his throat, trailing over his slightly less obvious clavicles.
A purr was already building in Blitzø’s chest as he rumbled, “So pretty. Just for me. My perfect bird.”
Stolas’s breath caught, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the tender, loving way that Blitzø treated him. But he believed it, especially when it led into the kind of hungry kiss he’d once only dreamed of. Like Blitzø couldn’t get enough of him, like only crawling under his skin and being enveloped in him would be enough to sate the cravings. Perhaps slightly off-putting for some, but Stolas basked in it. Returned the feelings in kind.
And when those lips left his beak and started to trail down his body, he knew Blitzø was about to give him a more concentrated dose of affection. Every inch of him begged for it.
The imp’s hold was tight, almost crushing feathers and making Stolas’s body dimple, the new weight yielding so easily. Blitzø paid extra attention to the little pockets of fat, squeezing them, nibbling them as his lips trailed down. Until he could sink his teeth into the meat of Stolas’s thickened thighs.
It had Stolas’s cloaca throbbing, the care and attention that sometimes bordered on aggression. Only ever going as far as he demanded. And Lucifer did he want it.
It was evident Blitzø wanted it too, the way he only gave the lingerie a long glance and down-right horny chuckle, before hooking a claw under the lace and tugging it down to Stolas’s knees. They were pretty, certainly, but he looked like a man possessed, and they were a barrier to his prize.
Perhaps it was just Blitzø’s comparative size, but as the imp nuzzled his face against Stolas’s now exposed pussy, the Goetia could have sworn that his body dimpled more than it had under his own fingers. Significantly more. He was sure that when he’d worried about the pudge at his waist, it been barely noticeable, but… it almost looked as though he’d gained another fifteen pounds, all in his middle. Surely that couldn’t be right.
“Blitzø?” he asked slowly, but every single synapse in his brain ceased to function, beside the one that shocked him with a jolt of pleasure as Blitzø’s tongue raked against his hole and made him cry out, “Yes, Blitzø! Please!”
In response, the forked tongue fluttered over the edge of his hole once again, catching on the sensitive little spot that had him already clenching and gasping for air.
Blitzø’s grasp on his thighs was tight, and his tongue was rough and needy as it teased Stolas’s hole, and then lapped at his clit like it was a treat. Stolas couldn’t help but throw his head back and moan, clamping his thighs around Blitzø’s head and receiving a filthy chuckle. With gasping breaths, he started to ramble his desires, filthy talk that was probably the wrong side of vulgar.
And yet Blitzø’s tail wagged eagerly, snout pressing deeper into his thighs. Perhaps for some they both would have been too much. But they indulged in each other.
With his eyes shut tight, Stolas was seeing stars against the back of his eyelids, mind going hazy with everything but the need he had for Blitzø. To be filled, cherished, to feel that skilled, familiar tongue slip deeper and tease him harder.
When it finally pressed inside to taunt the spot that Blitzø was well acquainted with, Stolas’s stomach churned with butterflies, a tightness clawing at him and begging for release as the pressure inside him mounted.
It seemed to peak in an instant, pleasure crashing into him as he was unwound. The flashes of colours in his darkened vision increased with every stroke of ecstasy, until he was practically forced to open his eyes and take in the day’s fading light.
With heavy breaths, Stolas finally looked up at the ceiling, his body flushed and heavy with his spent orgasm.
In only seconds though, he saw red in his periphery, and barely had time to smile before lips captured his panting breaths, making it harder to steady himself. But he was more than content to take the tongue that pressed against his beak and slipped in, tasting his own release.
As they kissed, long and hard, Stolas could feel Blitzø’s still stiff cock prodding up against his belly. But it felt… different. Like Blitzø’s body sank into him deeper. And the tightness he’d experienced multiple times, it was back, even if his lust was momentarily dampened by post-orgasm fatigue. Because that’s what the heavy lethargy pressing down on his body was… It was fatigue… Surely?
He didn’t have time to think on the sensations, as Blitzø’s lips pulled away, a hand carding through his facial feathers and stopping his gaze from straying, as Blitzø hummed, “You ready for the main course big bird?”
Even as Stolas had to wrestle his mind back from the lingering sensations, he retorted, “Oh, that was merely the appetiser?”
“Yeah, just something to wet your clit,” Blitzø hummed back, a sly grin on his lips that had Stolas hooting quietly. Everything else could be forgotten as those amber eyes looked at him with such adoration, visibly melting as Stolas laughed.
“Well, as tasty as it was, it left me wanting something more substantial. How about you give me that fat throbbing meat of yours?”
“You fucking know it,” Blitzø practically growled, chest rattling as he clawed his way down Stolas’s body.
Blitzø grabbed his thighs forcefully, the extra flesh dimpling under his claws as he roughly pressed them back, essentially folding Stolas in half. Except... his thighs pressed against his middle far sooner and more forcefully than Stolas had been expecting. His body moulded under the pressure Blitzø was supplying. It felt incredible, but it shouldn’t- it wasn’t—
Finally looking down, Stolas expected to watch his lively imp settle between his spread thighs and impale him. And he certainly felt Blitzø line the head of his fat cock up with his leaking hole, but what he saw was his enormous thighs spread wide, both at least twice- maybe even three times- as thick as he when he’d closed his eyes. But that wasn’t all.
Jutting out from his middle wasn't a small layer of pudge, it was a prominent, undeniable, gut. His belly rounded out in a soft, heavy dome, deforming around his mammoth thighs, as Blitzø pinned him down.
It took several seconds for his brain to catch up, and by that point Blitzø’s tip was firmly planted, pressing hard against his hole. But his brain was moving far too quickly. He wasn't supposed to be bigger. The spell should have ceased when he severed the connection. Unless...
The second casting, when Blitzø had interrupted him.
“Lucifer, Blitzø wait!” Stolas cried, and Blitzø halted immediately, wide eyes snapping over Stolas’s features, his body, trying to discern what was wrong, and more than likely, how he could fix it. “The spell is still in effect, I’m still growing.”
The worry slipped from Blitzø’s face immediately, morphing back into his usual grin as he agreed with a growl, “Hell yeah you are.”
“No- I mean, it’s not supposed to. It was only meant to add a little padding,” Stolas frantically explained, and in the next second, he felt the clenching of his stomach again, and with a heightened sense of awareness, suddenly realised what it meant.
Taking a deep breath, he watched in surprise and horror (and if he was being honest with himself, a pooling heat between his legs) as his stomach didn’t contract on his exhale. The rounding of the heavy breath clung to his frame with more visible weight.
Lords, he was- he wasn’t just curvy, he was fat. His belly had formed softened rolls that pressed against one another in his folded position, and the thighs that Blitzø pinned down... they were enormous. Even with both of Blitzø’s hands wrapped around them, he’d barely have been able to circle half of their circumference.
And the way they settled against him, it wasn’t merely thickness, the heavy thighs sagged gently under their own weight. There was more of him than he’d ever imagined possible, and the thought… excited him, just as much as it worried him.
Blitzø seemed to suddenly understand the gravity of the situation, eyes raking over Stolas’s bloated body. As clear as the issue was though, Stolas wouldn’t admit aloud the way something inside him shrivelled as Blitzø asked, “Shit, it’s reversible, right?”
“Yes. Once I stop the spell, it should only take an hour or so for the changes to wear off, but until I stop it—”
Stolas let out a long, low moan as Blitzø reached down between them and pressed the tip of his fat cock past the already slickened rim of his cloaca, his body caving to welcome Blitzø, pushing his apprehension aside.
It was so hard to remember that there was a more pressing matter at hand, as Blitzø’s entire length settled inside him, stretching his aching hole in the best possible way. Even harder still, as Blitzø pulled back, before impaling him again with a thrust so hard his extra weight rocked with the motion, drawing out a cry of delight that he couldn’t contain.
“Wait,” Stolas panted, breath hitching with every forceful slap of Blitzø’s hips against his softened thighs. “Blitzø, I need to stop the spell, else I’ll keep on getting bigger.”
Blitzø paused, not going in for another thrust, but the warning didn’t dampen his smile or the growl in his voice. “That sounds like the opposite of a problem, birdie.”
Struck to silence, it was Stolas’s turn to rake his gaze over Blitzø. He tried to ignore the clenching in his stomach once again, wondering how much more weight it would add this time, as he hesitantly asked, “You’re- you want to keep on going?”
“Yeah, don’t you? You cast this thing, and I’m not hearing a red.”
Stolas couldn’t help but to look down at himself, at the doughy pile of feathers his body was becoming. This hadn’t been his intention. He’d wanted to give Blitzø something more, but this was… it was too much for Blitzø, surely.
But there was no hesitance in Blitzø’s steady gaze, locked with Stolas and full of a yearning that had become familiar. It had never dampened, only morphed from lust alone into something that came with a softer centre.
Some of the fear slipped out as Stolas tried to reason, “But- ah- you asked if it was reversible.”
“Course I did, I’m not gonna let anything permanent happen to you without a long talk. And as hot as blowing you up like a blimp would be, it would need a really long talk,” Blitzø insisted.
Against his wishes, Stolas’s cheeks flushed, feathers starting to fluff in an act that no doubt only made him look even bigger. “So you- you are into this?”
In answer, one of Blitzø’s claws raked up his inner thigh, making him shudder. Where Stolas expected it to still on his middle though, it continued to glide up, delicate and taunting, until Stolas was well and truly puffed up. The imp only stalled when he reached his hand into the long plumage of Stolas’s chest feathers, but rather than card through the shafts, the fingers wrapped around what was undeniably a rather generous moob.
Stolas’s breath faltered as Blitzø fondled it, rolling the flesh against his palm and humming appreciatively. “You did this for me, right? But if you don’t want to go any further, I’ve already got my fill.”
Did he want to go further? He’d been so worried about Blitzø’s reaction, he hadn’t even considered his own wants. It wasn’t… bad. In fact, it was quite the opposite, he couldn’t deny the stirrings he’d felt.
A decades old shame still wanted to well up inside of him. But if he let Blitzø’s lingering gaze push that aside, the extra mass was pleasant. Warm, comforting, a sure weight to keep him steady.
Is this how it would have felt if love had managed to linger on his form?
He couldn’t help but look past his enormous stomach, to what he could see of Blitzø’s torso, the little bit of softness had settled on the imp. His own unnatural growth far exceeded it, but perhaps this was what it would have felt like.
Enough time had passed as he’d been sinking into his thoughts, to feel another surge, more softness padding out his frame. As he felt Blitzø’s cock give an appreciative throb, something in his chest sank rather than swelled.
Swallowing away the sudden lump in his throat, he wanted to continue, to give Blitzø the present he’d planned for him, but he couldn’t will his body to say the words. Not when they’d both spoken at length about being open with their own feelings, rather than hiding the parts that they thought ugly.
With a deep sigh, Stolas prepared himself, but before he could open his beak, Blitzø’s hand rose to his cheek, cupping it so gently he couldn’t help but rest his head in the imp’s hand.
Voice far too gentle for how deep his cock was, Blitzø said clearly, “I mean it. I love you, and you’re hot as hell whatever shape you are. But we can stop if you wanna.”
It was undoubtedly sweet, and Stolas tilted his face into the hold, unable to meet Blitzø’s gaze as he asked, “Would you… prefer me like this?”
“Hey,” Blitzø snapped, voice abrupt, but still soft as he tilted Stolas’s chin up to force their gazes to meet. “What did you say? When I was in my fucking head about…” Blitzø sighed, still unable to say it out loud, the way he’d retreated into himself when he’d noticed his changing body, worried that his softening was a detriment, rather than a clear sign of the comfort he’d lacked for most of his life.
Taking a deep breath, Stolas answered, “I love you. My preference will always be whatever makes you comfortable.”
“Exactly. So, do you wanna keep going?”
“I-…” Stolas began, then felt the tightening again, another swell that pushed him a little further from the sofa this time, clearly fattening up his already expansive rear.
He wanted Blitzø to be happy, to enjoy the present he’d prepared, even if it didn’t quite meet Stolas’s expectations. And it… it truly didn’t make him uncomfortable. It made him long for the softness to stick, to show his appreciation on his form, the same way it did on Blitzø’s. He wanted to be able to let himself go, to shake aside the claws that expectation still dug into him and replace them with Blitzø’s hungry hands. And this- this body- it felt new. It felt like, for a fleeting moment, he’d managed to escape it.
Another tightening hit, another thickening of his body that had him shuddering. And if he was being honest with himself, that was quite the turn on too. Not just his bulk, but the sensation of growing larger in small bouts. Even if he wasn’t sure there was an upper limit on the spell, part of him longed to test it…
Letting out a stifled breath, he muttered, “Lucifer, you’d better fuck me whilst you still can.”
“I’d find a way to fuck your fat ass, no matter the size,” Blitzø teased. "But that sounded like a yes to me?"
"How much more explicit than 'fuck me' can I-” Stolas began, cut off as Blitzø pulled away and slammed back in with enough force to make him cry.
As Blitzø found a rhythm again, he taunted, "Oh, you can go way more explicit than that, horny bitch.”
And Stolas certainly wanted to ply Blitzø with one of his lewd, desperate rants, but the only words that managed to escape his throat were pleas for more. With every pounding thrust, the air was snatched from him, forced out in a needy moan that had has talons curling and thighs squishing around Blitzø harder.
In response, Blitzø’s hands sunk down to his belly, grabbing onto his love handles tightly as he started to move with fervour. The wet slaps against his thighs echoed so much louder than usual. Even with feathers dampening the clap, it was unmistakable how his body collided with itself, fat rippling under each forceful push.
With every clench in his middle, he knew now that he was getting bigger, and could almost feel it. His body stretching, growing heavier. It felt like every surge made Blitzø’s thrusts a little harder, pounding against him with heightened intensity to make it around his fattening cloaca and still hit him deep. And Lucifer, it worked.
His whole body was practically quaking. Fat rippled under every emphatic press, hips crashing against him with enough force he might have bruised, if it weren’t for the expansive padding he now had.
He’d never felt anything like it, never expected so much extra weight to feel so good. But it was undeniable how much Blitzø wanted him, when he could feel every grasp and thrust so much more keenly. There were no bones impeding Blitzø’s hold, he could just sink into it. Stolas could smother him, claim him.
The onslaught of sensations had him reaching his peak a second time, coming on Blitzø’s cock with a cry, as Blitzø continued pumping, breaths coming hard and needy as he pressed Stolas into oversensitivity. But then his thrusts stuttered, the moan that escaped Blitzø ragged as he gripped Stolas tightly and rutted through his own orgasm. The warmth flooded Stolas, and he wrapped his legs around Blitzø a little tighter to keep anything from leaking. The act only had the imp shuddering harder, letting out a little whine as he was enveloped by Stolas’s softened thighs.
For a moment they stayed like that, both of their breaths heavy in the come down, until Blitzø slumped forward, splayed across Stolas’s plush torso. He was truly verging into enormous territory, the imp taking up a fraction of his belly. It spilled out to his sides, pouring over love handles, and his ass was undoubtedly taking up more than one cushion.
With his mind clear and no idea how long that would last, Stolas finally lifted his hand and had the mental fortitude to cancel the spell. The changes remained, of course, and would linger for a short while longer as he had expected, but he wouldn’t grow any larger at least.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Stolas finally allowed himself to relax, feeling the new weight settling on him without distraction. Except for the gentle pressure of a small imp wrapping his limbs around Stolas’s middle. As best as he could, at least.
Still, the content smile on Blitzø’s lips as he buried into the plumage wasn’t enough to rid Stolas of the guilt. So he muttered out a quiet, “I’m sorry, dearest, I hope my mistake didn’t sour the night.”
“Sour it? Stols this is hot as fuck. Best anniversary present ever.”
“Even better than the collectable horse?” Stolas teased, expecting Blitzø to taunt back that nothing was better than horses, but Stolas was a close second.
Instead, what he received was a heart-meltingly sincere, “You bet. You gave me even more of something I already love. What’s better than that?”
Stolas’s breath caught for a moment. Especially as Blitzø nuzzled into his fattened chest and a purr started to rumble in the small impish body. “Lucifer, you can be a sap when you feel like it.”
“You love it,” Blitzø finally taunted, an edge of mocking in his tone as he continued to knead at Stolas’s body.
It was hard not to relent under the tenderness, Stolas sighing contentedly as he muttered, “I most certainly do.”
Blitzø’s gaze flicked up at him from between his feathers, a soft look in his eyes, one that turned characteristically mischievous as he asked, “So, how many more rounds do you think we can get in before this shit wears off?”
Humming contemplatively, Stolas eventually answered, “I suppose it depends on how long you intend to spend nestled in my feathers. But I’m sure we’re about to find out.”
The grin that settled on Blitzø’s lips was confirmation that his assumptions were correct.
The answer was four. But in the quiet moments of afterglow, Blitzø settled against him, one claw resting possessively at Stolas’s side, as if daring hell to try and take up that space instead.
He’d spent so long believing that love should leave marks he could measure, that the only way to prove it was real was the bruises it left on his skin, the ache in his limbs. Perhaps one day this softness would cling to him the way he hoped, permanent proof of the feeling laying heavy against his chest, but in the meantime, maybe he could afford a few more magical mistakes.