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#poor gray cats
silversparkz · 2 years
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time for another cooking event! (╹ڡ╹ )
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bonefall · 7 months
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Ooh, another based "Shellheart gets too much hype in canon" truther? Is it because he actually does shockingly little to stop or protest Rainflower's treatment of Crookedstar as a kit, or something else?
It's a few things honestly, all of them bug me just enough to make me pretty steadfast in feeling like Shellheart is overrated;
Crooked's renaming feels so preventable. Really, Dad Shellheart? You have no say in this? You can't protest this??
You too Hailstar, what the fuck. Leaders are theocratic dictators 90% of the time but TODAY you feel like just letting this woman involve your entire Clan in her emotional abuse?
So it feels like lip service, "Omg Rainflower's being so awful! Don't worry though us powerful men can still be likeable because we don't like this :( too bad our all-powerful hands are tied."
Shellheart wasn't very involved with his children BEFORE denouncing Rainflower, so he does this whole big show of it and theeeeen..... nothing changes.
I'm reminded of how deadbeat fathers will sometimes blow into town with a whirlwind of big talk about doing something big for their neglected family, only to be gone again before Christmas.
Or, worse, the idea that Shellheart ONLY stopped being official mates with Rainflower because he's deputy, and it would look awful if he did nothing at all in the face of such an unpopular situation. Washing his hands of it.
And listen. I know people will staunchly refuse to acknowledge that these aren't real people, they are WRITING CHOICES. But please. I'm begging everyone to stick with me for a goddamn second
Ask yourself these critical thinking questions:
Why have the writers chosen for the mother to be solely responsible for Crookedstar's childhood abuse, whilst portraying Shellheart's solitary big public denouncement as the pinnacle of fatherhood? As he's barely involved in his children's lives?
Do they functionally portray Shellheart as a father who helps his son through maternal neglect? Or are the scenes quite rare? If yes, then what did the author spend their time on instead?
Consider the narrative of Crookedstar's other main antagonist, Mapleshade. Does Mapleshade's backstory have any similarities to Rainflower? Consider the choice to give Crookedstar two cruel maternal figures who act on malice towards him as paternal figure Shellheart goes unexamined.
Is this a pattern that we have seen before? Are fathers typically held to a different standard in Warrior Cats?
I feel strongly that the answer is an obvious yes. So Shellheart, and all the praise and cooing he gets, bothers me immensely.
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arctic-hands · 1 month
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Bad news: new mouse in the apartment. Again.
Worse news: we found this out because it was nuzzling @thetabirb 's hand as she slept
Worser news: after i had my initial freak out that made my heart melt and I feel bad that it has to die
Even worser news: I caught a glimpse of it as it scampered out of the bedroom to the kitchen and it had giant years and a short tail and now I feel really really bad about the fact that it has to die
Worst news: I can't capture it and adopt it
Good news: theta checked herself all over and no sign of biting or scratching (I was tucked under the weighted blanket so it couldn't get to me)
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bowie-star · 4 months
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warriors designs in order of appearance 9/?: Jagged Peak
[image description: a digital drawing of a dark gray tabby cat with a white chest, belly, and legs. His eyes are aquamarine and one of his hind legs is held at an awkward angle. Text above him says "Jagged Peak". End ID.]
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puffywarriorcatz · 8 months
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if your requests are open can you do runningnose
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6 // runningnose
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autistfanatic · 5 months
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Gray Wing needs a fuckin hug.....No food in the mountains, one of his kid siblings die of starvation, forced to leave home, 2 tribe cats die, one leaves him for kittypet life, his crush Storm gets preggers with his brothers babies, then dies, his brother becomes a dictating piece of shit, Gray Wing accidentally kills Fox, severing the brotherly love for Clear Sky for ever, Jagged Peak breaks his leg and is banished from Clear Skys camp.
Gray Wing. Deserves The world!!!
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urgothgfsbeltchain · 11 months
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“well, i might be gone a long time,
and it’s only that i’m askin’,
is there something i can send you to remember me by?
to make your time more easy passing?
oh, how can you ask me again?
it only brings me sorrow.
the same thing i want today,
i want again tomorrow.”
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skuffypaw · 2 years
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I'm wayyyyy behind on this series and still catching up, but so far, Dawn of the Clans is the best arc of Warriors since the original six
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daily-whistlepaw · 2 years
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daily whistlepaw until wa becomes PoV day 495
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talking with whiskernose
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keepitdreamin · 2 years
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a cat came right up to me earlier when i was trying to take the trash out and normally the cats in the neighborhood run if they see somebody but he looked old and his fur was matted and he was Skinny skinny (feel every bone in his spine and all of his ribs skinny). so me and my sister managed to get him on the backporch and when we posted in the community fb group, a nice lady brought over some cat food, and another guy offered to take him tmrw if nobody claimed him (which is good bcs the shelter has been overly full for months), but THEN i went to check on him and he got out of the fully screened in porch??? i guess he either found or made a hole in the screen and slipped out through there. we left the screen door open and the food, water, and a makeshift bed out for him in case he comes back so we'll see about that tmrw. and i'm worried cuz he was so so skinny and probably sick but really really sweet, but i know that at least he got some food and water tonight
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peanutbutterjelly-pie · 6 months
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My poor cat has to wear a Cone of Shame now and she is so not happy about it 🙃
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malkaviian · 9 months
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im fostering a kitty
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librarycards · 2 years
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Pigeons are doves. They are rock doves, and I wonder if we began to call them that if people would hesitate to hate them, as doves have that history as messengers of peace. It is true that in my neighborhood nobody hates the mourning doves, dusky and elegant with wings that squeak as if they flap on rusty hinges. They roost on the wires like little Audrey Hepburns, while the pigeons troll the ground, tough and fat, some of them look like they should be smoking cigarettes. They look poor and banged up, like they could kick the mourning doves’ asses but are wise to the divide-and-conquer tactics we use on one another, so they coo wearily at the mourning doves and waddle forth in search of scavenged delights. What you may not know is when you call a pigeon “a rat with wings” you have given it a compliment. The only thing a rat lacks is a pair of wings to lift it, so you have named the pigeon perfectly. When you say to me, “I hate pigeons,” I want to ask you who else you hate. It makes me suspicious.
I once met a girl who was so proud to have hit such a bird on her bicycle, I swear, I thought that it was me she hit. I felt her handlebars in my stomach and now it is your job to feel it also. The pigeons are birds, they are doves. They are the nature of the city and the ones who no one loves. When people say they hate pigeons, I want to ask them if they hate themselves, too. Does it prick the well of your loathing? Do they make you feel dirty and ashamed? Are you embarrassed about how little or how much you have, for how you have had to hustle? Being dirty is not a problem for the pigeon. You can ask it, “How do you feel about having the city coating your feathers, having the streets gunked up in the crease of your eye?” and the pigeon would say, “Not a problem.” You will now stop blaming the pigeon. It is not the pigeon’s fault. The pigeon was once a dove, and then we built our filthy empire up around it, came to hate it for simply thriving in the midst our decay, came to hate it for not dying. The pigeon is your ally. They are chameleons, gray as the concrete they troll for scraps, at night they huddle and sing like cats. Their necks are glistening, iridescent as an oil-slick rainbow, they mate for life, and they fly.
Michelle Tea, Against Memoir. [emphasis mine]
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teatreeoilll · 1 month
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2006
“No - No - Don’t put it in your bag. Gojo - Seriously, stop.”
“Well we need to put it somewhere, don’t we?”
“Alright. Alright - Let me hold it. We just need to think of something smart - ow! Little bastard. If you bite me again I’ll leave you here.” At the edge of the street stands the rubble of the house Gojo destroyed half an hour ago - together with the curse in it. The other houses surrounding you look run-down and uninhibited, blending with the rain clouds on the horizon. “I don’t really mean it,” You whisper.
Gojo leans forward and rubs the head of the tiny gray kitten you’re holding. The kitten hisses back at him. “I don’t think he likes us.”
“What makes you think he’s a he - ow! Maybe it’s a she,” You lift the kitten up, but it only digs its tiny claws further into your hand. “Alright, I won’t check -” You bring it closer to your chest, rubbing it on the head to calm it down, and look back up at Gojo, “But we need to figure out what to do with it.”
“Shoko can take care of its leg.” Gojo points to a nasty wound on the kitten, “And then we’ll just put it in your room.”
“My room? Why not your room?”
“Aw, come on. It’s just for a little while - look, it’s already purring. I bet it thinks you’re his mom.”
“Yaga will kill us.”
Gojo’s lips curl up in a familiar smirk, “Only if he finds out.”
“Fine. But you’re buying the cat food.”
-
“Gojo -” You whisper into the dark hallway, “Gojo - Wake up!”
A few seconds go by and the door creaks open. Gojo’s still halfway into putting on his t-shirt, “What is it?” You stare a moment too long at his abs, “If that’s what you came for I’ll take it off -”
“Don’t be dumb, you oversized noodle. Something’s wrong with the kitten.”
Inside your room, Shoko and Geto are kneeling on the floor over the kitten. All your hear are quiet retching sounds and worried whispers.
“He keeps coughing up like that. Do you think he’s sick?” You ask as you and Gojo kneel with the others, looking at the little kitten shaking its head, “Maybe we need to take him to a vet.”
The kitten wobbles a bit when it moves towards Gojo. “Come here little one,” Gojo whispers as if no one can hear him, “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” He runs a finger between the kitten’s ears. It climbs onto his knees, then wretches again, unleashing a surprisingly big and slimy hairball on Gojo’s lap.
“Oh - God - That’s -” Gojo takes the kitten off his knees. He swears it’s smirking at him. The room is silent for a moment before you let out a snort, and everyone but Gojo howls with laughter. “Quit laughing! D’you have a wet wipe or something?”
“I -” You huff out laughing, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes, “I thought it was sick -”
Geto’s cheeks are bright red and he’s folded almost in half as he sucks sharp breaths through bouts of laughter, “Good thing you called Satoru, poor thing just needed something to look at to get him to vomit -”
“Seriously! Stop laughing and get me towel or something -”
In the doorway, Masamichi Yaga clears his throat.
-
“I’m not saying get rid of it.” The little kitten strolls on papers on Yaga’s desk. Rain hammers on the window glass. “Just put it back where it came from.”
“How can we put it back where it came from?” You retort, “It’s tiny! It’ll freeze, or it’ll starve or -”
The kitten looks up, its green eyes pointed straight at Yaga’s stern expression. Yaga sighs.
“Come on, Yaga -” Gojo bats his white eyelashes as if he’s the one about to get kicked out in the rain. Yaga sighs again.
“You can’t keep it in your room anymore,” Yaga says as he takes the kitten from the desk and places it on his lap, “But we’ll figure something out. Now get to bed, all of you.”
-
2017
“Mochi!” Gojo ducks down to pet the cat as he exits the building. It hisses back at him. “You’re getting old now, you little monster. You better start making amends soon.”
“Earl still doesn’t like you, huh?” You chuckle, coming out from the building after him.
“I don’t know how he likes you after you named him Earl.” Gojo looks down at the cat, who left him to rub on your feet. “Bootlicker,” he mutters under his breath.
“Don’t be jealous, Satoru,” Shoko’s smoking a cigarette by the entrance, “Winston can sense it.”
“Don’t even let me get started about naming a cat after a pack of cigarettes -”
“Oh and Mochi’s better?” You chuckle, petting Earl on the head, “Even though nothing beats Yaga who just calls him “Cat” or Suguru’s ‘Bruce Lee’ -”
Suguru. There’s a silence.
Earl meows. “Aw - Earl, you want a treat?” You reach into your pocket, “Lucky for you I came prepared.”
Gojo chuckles, “If I meow, will you -”
“Definitely not, Satoru.”
“Are you sure?” Gojo drawls, leaning forward for his face to be an inch from yours, “Because I’ll meow if I have to.”
You roll your eyes and press a chaste kiss on his lips, “Please don’t meow.”
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cupid-styles · 2 months
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valentine's day (nerdrry x camgirl!yn)
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word count: 3.5k
content warnings: smut! (exhibitionism, toys/bondage, daddy kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, overstimulation)
original nerdrry x camgirl!yn story
masterlist | talk to me
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. . .
Most mornings, Y/N can’t remember where she fell asleep the night before. 
It’s not because she’s a bad sleeper or has chronic insomnia or anything like that. In actuality, in the past few months that she and Harry have officially started their relationship, they find it nearly impossible to be apart for the night. Y/N hates waking up without feeling his warm body pressed up against hers, his chest curled into the form of her back and his arm looped around her waist, while Harry dreads the feeling of her cold, unmade side of the bed when she’s not there.
So, even with warnings of codependency tucked into the logical portions of their brains, they try not to worry. Instead, they enjoy winter evenings made just a tad bit toastier with the presence of the other: Fuzzy socks and steaming cups of tea, bubble baths and eucalyptus soap-scented kisses, soft palms pressed against one another as they read their respective books in a bedroom bathed in a soft golden light. 
It’s good — Y/N thinks it’s all really good, and she’s really happy, and she doesn’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day because every other day that she’s spent with Harry has her walking around with hearts in her eyes, even if her friends tease her over it. But Harry is Harry and he does care — he cares a lot, actually.
He promises her he won’t go all out. She even makes him wrap his pinkie around hers and pledge not to get scammed by buying expensive, overpriced flowers and chocolates. And he doesn’t — he listens to Y/N and opts for a far more lowkey version of what he had envisioned for her.
But right now, Beatrice, his sweet, gray haired cat, is ruining it. 
Beatrice is ruining it!
“Bea,” Harry hisses. The cat’s eyes barely blink open and she stays firmly placed on top of Y/N’s chest, where she’s apparently decided to take real estate this morning. “Beatrice Styles, get down!”
He’s trying his best not to speak too loudly to avoid waking Y/N before her surprise, but his hands are full so he can’t scoop Beatrice up and nudge her tush out of the room like he normally does. (Y/N hates having sex with her in the room, explaining that it’s guaranteed to scar her “poor, innocent eyes”, so both Harry and Beatrice are used to the routine by now.) And perhaps this is payback for all the times he’s kicked her out because he swears he’s never seen her so stubborn before.
“Beatrice Stevie Styles, if you don’t get down right now—”
“Are you threatening your cat?”
Harry huffs when he hears Y/N’s croaky morning voice rasp out from above the covers. He shuffles to the edge of the bed and gently puts down the tray he’s holding and leans forward to grab Beatrice’s plump body. 
“No,” he mutters, “She just chose a very inopportune time to be… evil.”
Y/N hums non-committedly as Harry places Beatrice down. She hasn’t yet cracked her eyes open, which sends a bolt of excitement through his chest — he still has a chance at surprising her. 
“Keep your eyes closed please,” he says as he curls his hands through the wooden handles of the tray. 
“To be honest, I think I kind of liked having her on my chest— it was like a soft, suffocating weight. Almost like a weighted blanket, maybe?”
“Y/N,” Harry warns, and she peeps an eye open to see her boyfriend hovering over her, “Y/N! Didn’t I say to keep your eyes closed?”
“Oh! Still?”
He sighs, flashing her an annoyed look before lowering slightly to show her the array of breakfast foods diligently placed over the maple-hued wood: heart shaped pancakes, fruit cut into stars, her favorite tea in a mug with her initial on it. It instantly makes her grin, sitting up hurriedly against the blue velvet of Harry’s headboard. 
“This is so sweet,” she coos, looking up at him with a wide smile. The frustration sitting in Harry’s body instantly melts away and he grins back at her, heart squeezing slightly at the tired puffiness in her eyes. “Thank you so much, H. This is perfect.”
“Yeah?” he asks as he slowly places the board down. She moves her book out of the way so he has room on the nightstand. “I know you said nothing big, so…”
“So this is perfect,” she emphasizes. She scooches over and pats the empty spot next to her, encouraging him to lay down next to her. “Happy Valentine's Day. I’m sorry Beatrice and I ruined your big surprise.”
Harry snorts, grabbing the small bowl of fruit and handing it to her. She accepts it graciously and pops a strawberry between her lips before feeding him a blueberry.
“She’s been getting naughtier lately. I think you’re inspiring some bad female energy I didn’t know she had.”
“Or maybe you were just stifling her energy,” Y/N points out, “She needed a cool camgirl in her life to bring it out.”
“Right,” he mumbles playfully and Y/N giggles, elbowing his ribs lightly. 
“Speaking of which. You’re still fine with me streaming tonight?”
He shrugs as he leans over to grip her mug, carefully maneuvering the full cup of tea. He sets it on his lap, welcoming the warm feeling between his palms. 
“It doesn’t bother me at all, baby. You know that.”
It’s the truth, too — Harry’s willing to recognize that streaming is part of her lifestyle. It’s more than just a job for her, especially considering her 9 to 5 position as a graphic designer is still rather lackluster. In the months that they’ve dated, they’ve had many conversations about it: why she liked streaming and had no plans to give it up, mainly. She viewed it as a form of sexual freedom and autonomy over her own body and the money certainly sweetened the deal. Who was Harry to argue with that? 
The only thing that’s changed is her schedule. Since bringing someone new into her life — someone who she cared for and wanted to spend time with — she revised her daily streams to three times a week. She also posted additional photos and videos for members to supplement both the income she was losing, and the content her viewers weren’t getting. 
Valentine’s Day is different, though. She’d asked Harry a few weeks back if he cared if she went online that day and honestly, he didn’t. He knows that if he didn’t have her, he would probably look to watching her stream to feel just a little less lonely. And while he wasn’t entirely too keen on sharing his girlfriend with the world, he also knew that they were committed to one another. They were grateful for that stupid website and her dedication to it, otherwise they never would have met. 
“I just feel bad,” she says with a sigh, referring to her plan to stream this evening, “Feel like I’m making a fucked up choice.”
Harry shakes his head. “It’s not like we have plans or anything, and you know I’m fine with it. Don’t feel bad.”
Y/N hands him the bowl so she can curl into his side. He welcomes her, eagerly wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hair. 
“It’ll just be a few hours and then you can come over and spend the night,” he murmurs, ducking his thumb beneath the fabric of her tee-shirt to rub circles into the skin. “Or I can come to you if you’re too tired. Whatever works.”
That seems to light a spark in her brain because she’s suddenly sitting back up. Harry’s staring at her and trying not to smile at her wild bed head, but the slightly thrilled look in her eyes is a bit distracting anyway.
“Remember that time we talked about you being with me while I stream?”
Harry raises his eyebrows slowly.
“Like, being in the room with me… telling me what to do… you remember that, right?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“What if we do that?” she asks, shifting onto her knees. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable. But you could be behind the camera and you could just… I don’t know, dominate me from there. Is that hot? Or is it a stupid—”
“Hot,” he cuts her off before coughing into his hand. “Definitely hot.”
She grins. “You think so? We could use that toy I got us forever ago, too. From when we met.”
His chest starts to feel warm as he nods eagerly. “T-The vibrator?”
“Yeah!” she nods excitedly. “So you can control it while I’m streaming, too. Does that sound okay?”
He swallows tightly and tries to will away the hardness thickening up in his briefs. 
“I like that a lot.” 
“Okay,” she’s smiling at him widely, completely unaware of just how appealing the situation sounds to him. She leans forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna finish breakfast and then shower? I have to be at the office—”
Suddenly, he’s pinning her down against the array of messy blankets scattered over the bed, a sinful smirk on his lips. 
“I want you to shut up and let me fuck your face so I don’t accidentally bust when I spend my whole day thinking about tonight.”
She’s giggling loudly, the sound of sunshine and bells chiming in the wind, before dropping her mouth open. 
. . .
Y/N spends way too much time tying a heart-shaped shibari harness around her chest, but it’s entirely worth it the second Harry sees her that evening. 
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, drinking her appearance in. His throat instantly dries as his eyes scan over her lacy pink lingerie set and she warms beneath his gaze, nibbling on her bottom lip. 
“Do you like it?” she asks, pushing her chest out slightly. 
“Do I like it?” he repeats breathily, running the pads of his fingertips down the length of her chest. He tucks his knuckles beneath the vertical rope and tugs lightly, making her gasp. “You look incredible, baby.”
“Thank you,” she giggles, intertwining her fingers with his free hand, “Are you still feeling alright about this?”
He nods and she smiles, guiding him over to her streaming setup in her spare room. She bounces down on the futon and squeezes his hand. He’s never been on this side of things before, so he has to admit that it’s fascinating and exciting to see it all from her perspective instead of a private tab on his phone. 
They discuss the logistics of things before she clicks ‘live’, mainly just in case either one of them gets uncomfortable and wants to stop. In lieu of a safe word, they settle on a motion of tugging their ear three times to signal that they no longer wanted to take part. They decide that Y/N would immediately log off and they would discuss what went wrong — but if both of them are being honest, they’re both bubbling with excitement. 
And, with her toy on and ready to go, Harry perched on a chair behind her laptop, Y/N starts her stream.
He swallows nervously and she sends him a wink, a silent, flirtatious reassurance that everything will be just fine. She nibbles on her lip as she waits for the chat room to fill up, a small smile forming as messages begin to float in. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day my loves,” she greets cheekily, shifting onto her knees. Her heels dig into her bum as she wiggles excitedly, glancing up at Harry. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips as his eyes scan over her chest and down to her covered core, zeroing in on where her vibrator is inserted firmly inside of her. He palms himself through his briefs as she makes small talk with her viewers. 
She leans back and splits her thighs open to reveal a string of lace barely covering her pussy. He swallows back a groan. 
“Are you excited to watch me play?” Y/N asks, eyes flickering to the male sitting across from her. It wasn’t her plan, but she can’t help ignoring the chats coming through, instead too enamored by the fact that her boyfriend is watching her. And, as if he can read her mind, Harry nods before mouthing the words touch your tits. 
Immediately, she does as she’s told. She pulls the fabric of her bralette down and swirls a finger in her mouth. She pinches her nipples and whimpers softly, back arching slightly. 
“Know you love my tits, daddy,” she whimpers, her gaze set on Harry, “They’re all yours. Every bit of me belongs to you.”
With a smirk, he pulls the remote to her vibrator out and clicks it on. She instantly moans at the low sensation pressed deep against her g-spot, eyes rolling back from the intense pressure. 
“Touch yourself for me,” she pleads, trailing her fingers down her stomach. She plucks at the straps of her underwear and wordlessly looks to Harry for permission. He nods, and not a second later she’s pulling them down her legs and tossing them to the floor. “Shit— do you see how wet I am for you, daddy?”
The chat goes crazy when they see the vibrator inserted deep inside of her. She can feel her pussy already begin to pulsate around the small silicone toy and she reaches out to grip the blanket beneath her. She only glances up when she hears the familiar sound of slick passes, a whimper leaving her lips when she realizes Harry’s jerking his cock to the sight of her falling apart. 
“So good,” she moans, their eyes locked. He stares at her intensely, his gaze only turning her on even more. “Can I touch my clit, please? N-need more.” 
Beg, he mouths. 
“Please, daddy— fuck, please let me touch my clit, daddy!”
He smirks as he squeezes the base of his length. “Go ahead.” He murmurs lowly, quiet enough so only she can hear him. 
Y/N makes hurried motions to circle her clit tightly, whimpering loudly from the much needed stimulation. Her eyes are shut tightly when he turns her vibrator up another notch, eliciting a sharp gasp on her end. 
“Oh my god,” she mewls, “I’m gonna cum— fuck, please, can I cum? Please, please—“ 
Harry cuts her off with another quiet response: “Ask them, not me.”
She can hardly keep her eyes open long enough to read through the responses coming through the chat. It’s an evil punishment, especially when he turns her vibrator up again. Her legs are shaking as she sits up on her elbows, the slightest bite of pain nearly pushing her over the edge from the rope digging into her chest. 
“Please, I need to cum,” she begs pathetically, trying to scan over the messages in the chat: 
No!!! Edge urself 
Cum for us baby
Go ahead 
Such a good girl
It’s too much for her to process — the toy is vibrating aggressively against the soft spot deep inside of her and she can’t hold it in much longer. She moans, unable to keep herself from reaching her peak, her muscles tightening and her pussy pulsating. A slew of curses fall from her lips as she rides her orgasm out, eyes rolling back into her skull. 
It’s the most delicious feeling, especially knowing Harry is sitting across from her and watching it all happen. Her eyes flicker up to him for permission to take a break, hoping his thumb is already brushing over the off button on the remote, but instead she’s met with a smirk she knows all too well. He looks borderline sadistic as she gasps, their eyes locked when he turns the toy on even higher.
“Oh,” she breathes out, laying back against the mess of blankets beneath her. At this point, she knows all anyone can see is the mess of arousal between her legs. It’s embarrassing and perfect.
“‘s a lot,” she slurs out. She thinks she hears Harry chuckle but she’s not sure. “Fuck— fuck, I think— have another—“
“You do,” this time she’s sure of his quiet voice, hushed so his words are only for her ears. “You have another one in there for me.”
Her knees are bent and knocking together as she wedges her hands between her thighs. She has to do something to ground herself; a half-assed attempt at mitigating the intense pleasure filling her body.
“Inside,” he commands from across the room. She moans, but only because he’s asking more of her. “Put your fingers inside or don’t touch yourself at all.”
She chooses the former because it somehow seems easier, quickly pushing two fingers into her pulsating hole alongside the small vibrator. Harry fills her up more than this but the knowledge of what she’s doing as his direction is incredibly hot. It doesn’t matter that she’s taken more and abused her pussy far more than this before — especially not when she’s a desperate submissive for Harry, willing to do whatever he asks of her.
The slight stretch of her pussy feels delicate and delicious and she can barely gurgle out the words I’m coming before it’s happening. Harry groans at the sight, slicking himself and pumping faster as her ribbon unravels, a small burst of liquid gushing from the movements of her fingers.
As soon as her peak slowly begins to taper off, she’s too exhausted to notice him rise from his seat. She gasps when he shuts her laptop closed before she even has a chance to say goodbye to her viewers. Instead, he leans down to wrap his hand around the rope secured around her chest, pushing her down against the soft fabric of the couch. 
“You’re gonna take my cum all over that dirty little pussy,” he growls, pumping his cock quickly in his palm. She’s too stunned and turned on to reply so she quickly nods her head, parting her pussy lips with v-shaped fingers. The toy is still vibrating inside of her, sending aftershocks through her body. 
“Good fucking girl,” he grumbles throatily. The sight of her wet center is enough to send him barreling to his orgasm, a series of groans toppling from his mouth as he sprays his seed across her pussy. “Fuck, there you go, baby, take it all.”
She whimpers at the feeling of his warm cum painting her core. As soon as he finishes, she makes quick work to yank the vibrator out, her body entirely too exhausted and overstimulated to stand it for another second. 
Harry’s panting loudly as he lowers to his knees and presses a few light kisses to her thigh. He catches his breath as she runs her fingers through his curly hair, coming down from her own influx of lust. She’s unsure of how long they stay like that but eventually, Harry stands up to kiss her forehead. 
“Gimme a sec to clean you up,” he murmurs. She nods, allowing her eyes to fall shut. A few moments later, he returns with a damp towel and gently swipes over her core. They settle into a comfortable silence as he does so, and he lays down next to her when he’s finished. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her sleepy form into his side. Exhausted, she allows him to maneuver her. 
“Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?” He asks softly. Y/N hums as she buries her head into the crook of his neck. 
“The best,” she murmurs, “How about you?”
“The best.” He echoes with a small smile. The quiet returns but neither of them want to fill it. He thinks she’s fallen asleep, assuming he’ll have to help guide her to the shower (which she’ll give him shit about, surely) when she shifts a bit, pressing her cheek into the comforter to look at him.
“I love you, you know.”
It's the first time she's said that to him. It feels like a million fireworks are going off, filling him and making it seem as though he's bursting at the seams with the same love and adoration for the girl next to him.
If he's being honest, he thinks he's known he's loved her — and she's loved him — for awhile now: Through small gestures like when he makes her bed in the morning because she's running late for work, or when she quietly fills up Beatrice's bowls with food and water when he's in a meeting. Bigger things, too — her taking the day off for his birthday and doing whatever he wants, all day. Or the time she picked up two of his favorite scent of candle because they were on sale, or when she's had a bad day so he surprises her with her favorite meal (garlic chicken stir fry with extra cilantro) via meal delivery service because he knows she wants to be alone.
"Yeah," he nods with a smile, "I do know. I love you, too."
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