Guardian Angel
In all honesty? The thing was terrifying, and not at all what she thought when she suddenly was told she would be getting a guardian angel. They aren’t seen much, and it’s much more rare to have one. Not a temporary one, not a chaperone, a full guardian angel. To put it simply, the thing is massive. Sometimes. Some of the time it’s taller than her modest house, other times it’s hanging out in a pocket. Every size, though, is something shifting and eldritch and all-around inhuman. It’s all eyes and wings and brightness and many, many hands. And mouths. Oh, the mouths. Those that remind or toy or smile or grin or kiss or eat. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. Especially when it insists on protecting her in more... inhuman ways. It doesn’t need food, so there’s no threat, but being suddenly grabbed, its long tongue coiling around her torso almost happily while relishing the feeling of her, then shoved down into a dimly-lit, warm space that presses around her softly is less than normal.
It’s... akin to a sunny room in the afternoon, that’s the best way she can describe it. Like taking a nap in a comfy, warm room after a day of swimming. Whenever she’s there, also, things get... fuzzy. She’s concluded that it isn’t her being tired. It’s something her guardian angel employs to make her still and happy while kept inside itself. Whether from some magic or hypnosis or whatever that lovely, wonderful, unearthly smell, she doesn’t know.
It also adores ensuring that she knows what it can do, and uses it to its advantage. It isn’t cruel - she’s learned that by now - however it still enjoys letting her know its power. Presses and rubs and stretches that she denies feeling oh-so-good, all while it describes her.
“You feel so nice in me, I could keep you there forever.”
“You don’t even make a dent in myself. You’re so tiny that I can barely feel or see you from the outside.”
“Oh, I can’t resist keeping you there, with your soft squirming...”