[ With that, Eddie offers her a reassuring smile. The most that tired eyes and a bearded, war torn countenance can muster. One that makes it difficult to mask the sorrow of a life of violence... until it’s enveloped by a blackness so as to be masked. Because Venom returns, baring his fangs once again with a toothy grin. The kind that might instill fear were Angela anyone else. The kind that might instill fear anyway, as she continues getting used to their bond.
He had waited, of course, till Angela finished kissing Eddie before returning as Venom. And his first move is, with one hand, to cradle the small of Angela’s back, and with the other, to scoop her up by the backs of her knees. She’s bound to feel like a feather as he lifts her with near-thoughtless ease, gently laying her down onto the bed proper. Venom proceeds to follow her there, climbing onto the mattress and straddling one of her legs. He doesn’t press down any of his weight on her, but simply kneels while one of Angela’s legs lingers between his. It’s from this position that he positively hovers over her, towering as much as before... and casting an inimitable shadow. ]
You look beautiful this way, Angela. Exposed. Bare.
And right where we want you... while we’re here. Where you want us.
[ And they say that because they can feel it. Perhaps she can feel their want, too. She’ll certainly feel it as tendrils reemerge from his body, seemingly limitless in length as several extend towards her. Some slink around the circumference of her thigh, their tips less than an inch away from her exposed slit. In fact, she might even feel them already palpating her entrance quite tentatively. She, however, will also have to contend with one of the tendrils wrapped around her breast, in a spiral centered around her nipple. The tip there begins caressing it faintly, as patient to savor every building sensation instilled upon her.
Before long, Venom shows her one of his hands, whose sharp fingertips retract to yield a shape closer to a human man’s. It’s with this hand, still enveloped in the murky blackness of the symbiote, that Venom cups Angela’s unattended breast. He hunches over while doing this, all to lavish the side of her neck - the one he hadn’t touched at all - with the wet tip of his tongue. Thus, she finds herself enveloped by their bond in a different way, utterly beholden to Venom’s ever-expanding totality. ]
Don’t be afraid, now. We won’t hurt you.
[ It’s with this that between Angela’s legs, the tip of one of Venom’s tendrils slips inside her, steadily palpating her walls. Pressing gently at first, against every cluster of nerves within. She might feel the tendril expand slowly, eager to fill the space. But every movement is slow, here. Careful. So that no surprise is ever too abrupt, and no sensation ever too shocking. ]
no subject
[ With that, Eddie offers her a reassuring smile. The most that tired eyes and a bearded, war torn countenance can muster. One that makes it difficult to mask the sorrow of a life of violence... until it’s enveloped by a blackness so as to be masked. Because Venom returns, baring his fangs once again with a toothy grin. The kind that might instill fear were Angela anyone else. The kind that might instill fear anyway, as she continues getting used to their bond.
He had waited, of course, till Angela finished kissing Eddie before returning as Venom. And his first move is, with one hand, to cradle the small of Angela’s back, and with the other, to scoop her up by the backs of her knees. She’s bound to feel like a feather as he lifts her with near-thoughtless ease, gently laying her down onto the bed proper. Venom proceeds to follow her there, climbing onto the mattress and straddling one of her legs. He doesn’t press down any of his weight on her, but simply kneels while one of Angela’s legs lingers between his. It’s from this position that he positively hovers over her, towering as much as before... and casting an inimitable shadow. ]
You look beautiful this way, Angela. Exposed. Bare.
And right where we want you... while we’re here. Where you want us.
[ And they say that because they can feel it. Perhaps she can feel their want, too. She’ll certainly feel it as tendrils reemerge from his body, seemingly limitless in length as several extend towards her. Some slink around the circumference of her thigh, their tips less than an inch away from her exposed slit. In fact, she might even feel them already palpating her entrance quite tentatively. She, however, will also have to contend with one of the tendrils wrapped around her breast, in a spiral centered around her nipple. The tip there begins caressing it faintly, as patient to savor every building sensation instilled upon her.
Before long, Venom shows her one of his hands, whose sharp fingertips retract to yield a shape closer to a human man’s. It’s with this hand, still enveloped in the murky blackness of the symbiote, that Venom cups Angela’s unattended breast. He hunches over while doing this, all to lavish the side of her neck - the one he hadn’t touched at all - with the wet tip of his tongue. Thus, she finds herself enveloped by their bond in a different way, utterly beholden to Venom’s ever-expanding totality. ]
Don’t be afraid, now. We won’t hurt you.
[ It’s with this that between Angela’s legs, the tip of one of Venom’s tendrils slips inside her, steadily palpating her walls. Pressing gently at first, against every cluster of nerves within. She might feel the tendril expand slowly, eager to fill the space. But every movement is slow, here. Careful. So that no surprise is ever too abrupt, and no sensation ever too shocking. ]