[ Not from a particular disdain for doctors, of course. But because Venom likes hearing her true name. Not Doctor. Not even Mercy. But Angela. And while it's true that their intimacy here wasn't catalyzed by some mundane serendipity, Venom can't imagine any other way this could be. Though he'd put himself at risk to save any innocent, there was something about that first contact with Angela that deemed her worth bonding with. Something beyond what Eddie or the symbiote could ever expect: some kind of instinctual pull. As if to say something deep inside the symbiote knows that extended contact with Angela will prolong its survival. As if Angela will make Venom stronger.
And oh, does he want to be stronger. Not just in the violence he can dispense, but in his capacity to protect. To provide care. And despite the consequences of Angela's devotion to her oath, evil that she's had to save and good that she simply couldn't... she has proven the perfect candidate for honing this strength. Not just by teaching it to Venom, but by being a part of it.
Like now, as she writhes to the pleasure of his every imposition. The sensations instilled by his tendrils, his hand, his tongue-- all that carefully caresses her body, eager and attentive to its increasingly sensitive parts. With a part of him inside her, an ever-expanding tendril, he listens carefully to her words. Not only what she says, but what she fails to say. But Venom can connect the dots, piece together what she means.
In noting her utter dishevelment, though, how severely it contrasts with her more composed and dignified self from moments prior... it delights him. Venom laughs. ]
We know what you want this to feel like.
[ Notably, his laughter isn't out of mockery, or out of condescension. There's no evil in it, nor malice. Venom's just... entertained. Entertained by something cute that he sees in Angela being so flustered. ]
We can deliver.
[ "A normal lover." He can feel the implication, but suspects it goes one of two ways. The sensation of a few 'human' fingers, or that of a 'human' cock. Angela will soon sense that he considers trying both. Discovering, together, what she likes. So the tendril begins by curling up against her walls as fingers might, with the force of a hand thrusting its fingers into her slit. The tendril extends with the solidity of fingers, the dexterity of them, targeting her most sensitive spot in the process.
One interpretation so far. But to test out the other, Venom's tendril changes. Becomes firm while taking a different shape. More phallic, lacking the bend or the dexterity of the previous form, but compensating through sheer girth. An unyielding solidity forms within Angela as the tendril pummels gently between her legs. It's obvious, here, that he's not going as hard as he could be.
Not yet. ]
Tell us what you like more. What you want first.
[ And to think, Angela's contending with this while all else is still happening. Venom hasn't stopped licking her, fondling her, and leaving a tendril wrapped around one of her breasts. There's no doubt at all that he derives satisfaction from overwhelming her with pleasure, and testing her limits. ]
no subject
[ Not from a particular disdain for doctors, of course. But because Venom likes hearing her true name. Not Doctor. Not even Mercy. But Angela. And while it's true that their intimacy here wasn't catalyzed by some mundane serendipity, Venom can't imagine any other way this could be. Though he'd put himself at risk to save any innocent, there was something about that first contact with Angela that deemed her worth bonding with. Something beyond what Eddie or the symbiote could ever expect: some kind of instinctual pull. As if to say something deep inside the symbiote knows that extended contact with Angela will prolong its survival. As if Angela will make Venom stronger.
And oh, does he want to be stronger. Not just in the violence he can dispense, but in his capacity to protect. To provide care. And despite the consequences of Angela's devotion to her oath, evil that she's had to save and good that she simply couldn't... she has proven the perfect candidate for honing this strength. Not just by teaching it to Venom, but by being a part of it.
Like now, as she writhes to the pleasure of his every imposition. The sensations instilled by his tendrils, his hand, his tongue-- all that carefully caresses her body, eager and attentive to its increasingly sensitive parts. With a part of him inside her, an ever-expanding tendril, he listens carefully to her words. Not only what she says, but what she fails to say. But Venom can connect the dots, piece together what she means.
In noting her utter dishevelment, though, how severely it contrasts with her more composed and dignified self from moments prior... it delights him. Venom laughs. ]
We know what you want this to feel like.
[ Notably, his laughter isn't out of mockery, or out of condescension. There's no evil in it, nor malice. Venom's just... entertained. Entertained by something cute that he sees in Angela being so flustered. ]
We can deliver.
[ "A normal lover." He can feel the implication, but suspects it goes one of two ways. The sensation of a few 'human' fingers, or that of a 'human' cock. Angela will soon sense that he considers trying both. Discovering, together, what she likes. So the tendril begins by curling up against her walls as fingers might, with the force of a hand thrusting its fingers into her slit. The tendril extends with the solidity of fingers, the dexterity of them, targeting her most sensitive spot in the process.
One interpretation so far. But to test out the other, Venom's tendril changes. Becomes firm while taking a different shape. More phallic, lacking the bend or the dexterity of the previous form, but compensating through sheer girth. An unyielding solidity forms within Angela as the tendril pummels gently between her legs. It's obvious, here, that he's not going as hard as he could be.
Not yet. ]
Tell us what you like more. What you want first.
[ And to think, Angela's contending with this while all else is still happening. Venom hasn't stopped licking her, fondling her, and leaving a tendril wrapped around one of her breasts. There's no doubt at all that he derives satisfaction from overwhelming her with pleasure, and testing her limits. ]