brokeneveweeb - Tumblr blog

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

"Partners in Crime p1"

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

PAIRINGS: Venom/Eddie x Reader

SUMMARY: It all comes down to you being a very nonchalant bounty hunter desperate for a vacation or distraction, you got what you asked for and found... a partner?

WARNINGS: Mentions of fighting. little cursing. little alcohol.

A/N: B/N = bounty's name imma leave the name to your imagination. Venom's text is written like this :)

Part 2's in progress, a link will be placed here soon or follow and get a notification when it's up :D

♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪:;;;:♪

God did you want a vacation, but sadly your job didn't really work that way. It was your third bounty this month and it was only the 8th. Normally you would be hunting the lesser dangerous kind of people such as drug dealers or small gangs.

Your previous and first bounty this month was an example, it was someone who was illegally shipping stolen objects for a little while. It was rather easy since he was quite sloppy in "erasing" any traces.

this one was different. it felt.. different.

it took you long before you got a lead about B/N's whereabouts, but you found one anyways. It was all the way over in San Francisco though. At least it was a city with mostly little crimes so there shouldn't have been anything major to worry about.

As soon as you arrived at the airport you ordered a cap to a hotel downtown. Being a bounty hunter has its perks such as having quite a great loan. you didn't go to a 5-star hotel, you didn't want to have to much attention on you right away so you went for the slightly less expensive 4 star hotel.

Immediately plugging in your laptop you search the web a bit, news and blogs mostly helped you with finding locations of sketchy places.

Apparently it wasn't your lucky day cause you found absolutely nothing. Looking outside of your window you saw that the sun had already began to set. then your eyes moved to the bed and boy did it look comfortable right now.

You stood up from your spot on the sofa and and went through suitcase, picking up short and a thin tank top.

the night went by fast, too fast for your liking if you had to be honest.

You stayed in your improvised pajama's as you spend yet another part of your day looking online. it finally payed off when you saw something about suspected dealing in a bar only a few streets away from your hotel. you decided to go there later in the evening.

Well later came. You had dressed up nicely and went ahead on your 'mission' to find more info or perhaps find your bounty right away.

When you arrived at the bar you sat down at the higher stools on the right corner of where the bartender was toying around with the drinks, from this angle you could keep the whole place in check. Thinking you totally deserved it you ordered a Bloody Mary for yourself as well.

There were a few loners sitting around (probably trying to drink their problems away) you also spotted 2 couples and a little party in the other corner of the bar. You sighed quietly and sipped your drink.

"Eddie"

Eddie flinches slightly at the sudden voice in his head. "what?" He whispered.

"I'm sensing a weird smell in this place" Venom told him making Eddie look around a bit.

"I don't smell anything, maybe you smell the beer or something" Eddie dismissed venom's sense.

"You don't smell it because you're an idiot, Eddie"

Eddie frowned "ouch" he whispered annoyed. He on the other hand was already working on his 7th glass. "quit it man" he continued grumpily

Venom really wanted to smack Eddie right there and then. instead of doing that he just casually used Eddie to look at where the smell could be coming from.

Eventually he traced it to.. you. at first he wasn't sure if it actually came from you or the spot where you were currently seated. For now he's just gonna stay low.

Back to you and lady luck seemed to be on your side again. a man entered from one of the doors behind the bar. he wasn't much taller then you, blond hair, tattoo on his wrist and he definitely did not skip arm day!

Of course you have dealt with worse then him, even going as far as hunting down some sort of robot from Sokovia? But that didn't mean you could underestimate anyone that came in your path.

When he was about to walk out you paid for your drink and followed him from a few feet away.

Venom noticed it and he just left, not even feeling the slightest of guild for the bartender whatsoever. First as Eddie since he was out because of his low tolerance for alcohol.

When he was outside he walked after you a little wobbly and then went into an alley and became himself. climbing up a building and following you from up there.

After some minutes of following B/N he finally went into an alley himself. you thought nothing of it and did the same. big mistake.

Right when you turn the corner he holds out a knife towards you. "You think i'm so stupid that i wouldn't notice you tracking me, doll?"

you frowned at the little nickname, taking out a pair of daggers. you moved a bit so that your back wasn't vulnerable from behind as it was turned to the main street.

The guy put on a scowl when he didn't get an answer from you. He charged at you, his blade swinging every way except yours. you were better at dodging then fighting and that gave you countless opportunities to take him down.

you had to counter his blade with yours a few times but managed to make him run head first into the wall, giving you all the time you need to grab the handcuffs out of your pocket that you had carefully tucked there before you left your room.

It went all so smoothly, but all of a sudden something made a loud thud sound behind you. you were ready to turn around and face whoever was standing there. that was the original second plan but then you were roughly (and rudely) shoved against the wall. it took you a second to get your vision back, you looked at where you bounty is supposed to be but of course! he was just running away! escaping you just when you were so close to having the job done!

You shook your head and looked the direction of whoever or whatever made that happen.

that's when you say it.. him? her?

"You shouldn't do bad things, but i'm sure you'll make a good sn-"

honestly you didn't even care at this point. you stomped towards it like an angry toddler. pointing up at him aggressively.

"What is your problem!? Now my bounty is GONE because of YOU!"

Venom's eyes widened, not having expected a reaction like that from.. well.. anyone. he was frozen in place.

"i don't know what you are but have you ever heard of minding your own business?!" you shoved your finger into his chest, making him stumble back a little bit.

Everything hit him then. You're a hunter for bad people, like them.

"i am sorry" He said. it was so out of the blue that now you were frozen.

your shoulders slowly relaxed, a deep and bottled up sigh coming from you while rubbing your face in frustration. it was kinda cute to the symbiote.

you gave it one last glare before turning around and walking away.

Venom followed you, he made at first sure that there weren't any (or at least not a lot) of people walking in the street.

"you're not scared?" he asked quietly, walking a few meters behind you. it was annoying but it was a distraction from the silence that the night brought.

"why would i be? you're just an ass who messed up my hunt" you actually were a little freaked out because it's not on a regular base that you get followed around by an alien or whatever that thing is.

"i said i am sorry" venom got closer.

"you already said that but sorry doesn't make this situation better" you check your phone if there is anything on someone with maybe half a concussion walking through the street but yet again nothing show up.

"where are we going?" venom was now beside you, staring at you with those eyes?

you stopped "we?" you asked genuinely confused. "why would you want to come wherever i go?"

"i want to make up for it, that and you are interesting" you squinted your eyes, looking him up and down. interesting? you weren't sure if you had to take that as a complement, but besides his earlier attempt to do who knows what he seemed to be calm right now, friendly even.

"I'm going back to the hotel i stay in" you continued to walk again, it wasn't far and you were only a couple of streets away now but you were tired of today's events even when you stayed in your pj's for half of it.

"Do you want a lift?" Venom offered. "a lift?" you thought.

"but yo-" you started but were cut off when venom picked you up bridal style. He jumped up and latched onto a flat with his free arm. you hid your face from the wind and the only place to do that was his chest.

You wanted to scream your lungs out as venom casually hopped building after building. Your stomach began to feel like it wanted to scream too. You tapped Venom against his chest, hoping he would see it as a sign to stop. he did stop only not because of your tapping.

He looked down at you. "which hotel are you staying in?"

"first put me down please" you rubbed the bridge of your nose.

He did as you asked, you stepped closer to the edge of the roof. "Be careful" it was kinda sweet that he cared about your safety so you backed away for him. "501 Geary St, you know where that is?"

he nodded and was about to pick you up again. "ho ho, wait a second" you put your hands in front of you, gesturing to not do that.

"What's your name big guy?" you ask as you cock your head to the right.

"We are Venom" He said with confidence.

"We?" you questioned.

"ehh don't worry about it" He gives you a toothy smile. just the fact that you know that that is a smile considering how he almost always looks like he's smiling.

"okay? anyways, can i hold onto your back this time?" you smiled back.

He turns just like that, his back towards someone who is used to hunting people down (both legally and illegally). though you do have to admit that you wouldn't just try to hurt or capture some alien out of nowhere.

You climbed onto his back and we took off into the right direction this time. it was already past 1.30 am by the time you finally arrived at the window to your room. you opened it an got inside, happy when the warmth of it hit you cold skin.

the smile from before had returned to your face, hair a bit messy from the ride "you have anywhere you can stay, Venom?"

It took him a second to reply "i do, but it's very late" is what he said because he didn't want to admit that he didn't want to go, not even for Eddie who was still out cold.

you step aside, making room for him to come inside "then stay here"

He looked around. Eddie would have never been able to afford this. it was a large room with everything someone would need including a massive bed and TV.

you watched him admire the place, a small smirk forming onto your lips. you wanted to offer him the sofa but the you remembered his size. you sighed "you can take the bed if you want, i will sleep on the sofa"

Venom wanted to protest but he understood your decision. "thank you"

"lemme change real quick" you rushed over to your suitcase that was neatly placed on a rocking chair next to your bed, grabbing the pj's your wore the night before. you excused yourself again as you went to the bathroom to put them on.

Meanwhile Venom walked around until he got reminded that he was still with Eddie. He heard a soft grunt coming from the man within. feeling that he hadn't woken up he continued waiting patiently for you to come back.

as soon as you came back you flopped down onto the sofa, sleepiness overtaking you making you almost forget about your guest. you looked up "you can go to sleep if you want, or you can do.. ehm.. whatever you do?" you yawned halfway through that sentence.

"Goodnight" he passed you the bed's blanket which you happily accepted "Goodnight, V". he lay down on the bed. you wrapped yourself up in the blanket and fell asleep some minutes later while Venom was indulging in your smell that was printed in the bed. He smiled at himself and closed his eyes, ready to dream.

203 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Note

🐚 there are different types of soulmates, some are romantic, some are platonic, some are familial + the avengers (with each avenger being a type of soulmate?)

okayyyyy i like this!!! i think i'm gonna do this with the original six

also, it's a bit of a long one but i wanted to go a little more in-depth on each one so i hope you like it :))))))

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing

❀ masterlist ❀

you never knew how much getting called to fight thor's brother alongside six other people would affect your life, but it did tremendously. you held each of them very close to your heart and you felt you all made up each other. nat wouldn't be who she was without the rest of you and you wouldn't be who you were without them. neither would clint, thor, steve, bruce, or tony.

'soulmate' was a good term to describe the relationship between you all, but often when people hear the word, they immediately think of romantic love. that wasn't the case you and the avengers—at least not all of them.

bruce banner was a platonic soulmate to you. there were certain people who no matter how much you hung out with them, your social battery would never run out. bruce was like that.

you both wanted to be alone but not completely, so you'd accompany him in his lab. sometimes, you helped him out when he needed a lab assistant. other times, you sat in your established corner and read a book, filling bruce in on what was happening in it periodically.

what you and bruce liked most about each other was that you could find peace and quiet within one another. you were the one to calm the hulk down to get your bruce back. he'd sit silently and just listen to you rant about something without judgment.

if you wanted judgment, you'd go to another platonic soulmate of yours, tony stark. you did value his honest opinion and how he wasn't afraid to hide it. there were times when his opinion did hurt, but he was always right—irritating but true.

excitement followed tony around constantly. when you went up to his lab or his office, you never knew what you were going to intrude on. you've almost been hit by several flying mechanical inventions of his more times than you could count on both hands. but thankfully, you were blessed with the power of speed and really great reflexes, so you'd dodge it just in time while also giving him a wide-eyed look.

one thing you and tony really got each other on was anxiety. the pair of you were the most anxious people the rest of the team had ever met. unnecessary worrisome thoughts ran through your head faster than you could move and that was saying something. you and tony got each other in the aspect, but also, if you were alone together and super anxious, yours would bounce off of his and it would fester into something worse.

steve could often help with that and talk you through it—tony had pepper for that. there was a reason steve was the leader of your group. he knew his soldiers and how to help them in times of despair, just like he knew how to help you when your mind was against you.

steve was a good friend. you could talk to him like you could with tony and bruce, but instead of being brutally honest or a quiet listener, steve told you what you wanted to hear. maybe he was a bit of an ass kisser, but you appreciated it in times where you needed some uplifting.

you also adored his patience. sadly, when it came to art, you weren't the best, but you loved to draw and wanted to become better at it. steve admired your persistence and did everything he could to help you become better and you have improved over time—just not a lot so your work was still shit. he definitely may have you beat when it comes to art and drawing and stuff, but you wipe the floor with him when it comes to running, much to sam's liking.

you thought of thor as an older brother. he never failed to make laugh. he wasn't afraid to show that he cared for you. he was protective over you—they all were, but he and clint were on another level. he liked to run around with you on his back and mess around with you.

you think he treated you like a little sister to make up for the relationship he wished to have with loki if loki wasn't so... well, loki. and you took to it pretty instantly since your family wasn't exactly the greatest either. the only time you ever felt like you were part of a true family was with the avengers, but thor himself played a major part in that.

and in true sister fashion, you did your best to make him forget about his breakup with jane by keeping him occupied and having fun, but also being there for him when he was upset about it. to most people, he didn't talk about it, but with you, he did. it was a little questionable that you two never hid anything from each other. there were some things he's told you that you wish you could wipe from your memory, but you do enjoy getting to be your complete self when you're around him and for him to be able to do the same with you.

clint was like a dad to you. you figured that since he was already an actual father that he treated most people like that, but he didn't with the guys and he and nat already had a friendly history so it seemed to be just you. you both didn't mind it though. you never knew your actual dad so maybe you latched onto the closest thing you could get.

clint never told you, but when he taught you how to shoot a bow and then saw your wide grin when you finally hit somewhat close to the target instead of way off, it reminded him of a little lila barton doing the same thing when she was younger. you were like his home away from home, his small bit of his actual family when he was away with the avengers. you had met his family too and they loved you as much as you loved them.

clint was a good shoulder to cry on. most of the guys were, but you felt comfortable when clint hugged and soothed you before asking what was wrong. looking from the outside in, you wouldn’t expect clint barton to be that great at understanding and calming down a crying girl, but he was phenomenal at it.

lastly, your romantic soulmate. natalia romanova. natasha romanoff. your nat. you never knew you could love someone as much as you did her, but your heart surprised you. sometimes, it hurt how much you loved her, but she was the one for you and you were the one for her. there was no denying it.

it was interesting to see such a hard-ass woman have a major soft spot for someone, but you were lucky that that soft spot was for you and that you got to reap the benefits of being hers. she reminded you constantly of her love for you so you never had a reason to doubt it.

she was your everything. she was your reason for breathing. she was why your heart kept beating. she was who you got up beside every morning and who you went to sleep next to every night. it was her lips you kissed constantly, her hugs you savored, her body you worshiped, her words you memorized, her spirit you loved immensely.

so yeah, when you first got the call about the avengers initiative, you might've rolled your eyes and wished to be doing anything else. but now, you cherished that day and wouldn't change anything about it for the world.

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new!

come celebrate with me :)

109 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Note

hear me out 7, 14, 17, 19 with peter

ask box | blurb masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

w/c: 777

warnings: a teeny tiny bit of suggestiveness

a/n: loved this :,) prompts are linked at the end again & off topic but i’ve been thinking of writing for nate drake and maybe a few st characters so lmk if y’all would be down! other than that happy reading

you and peter are spending the day at the beach. you found the perfect spot, somewhere not too crowded or far from the water. peter is setting up your chairs while you apply sunscreen. you strip your clothes off, revealing a bikini that clings to you in all the right places.

peter immediately stops what he’s doing to check you out, and he likes what he sees.

“is that a new swimsuit?”

you’re rubbing sunscreen into your arms, a smile of feigned innocence stretching across your lips.

“yeah, i bought it the other day. thought it was cute. you like it?”

“it’s…”

peter all but drools when you bend over to reach your legs.

“woah.”

you chuckle at your boyfriend’s reaction and squirt more sunscreen into your hand.

“you’ve always had a way with words. now, lemme do you.”

you reach out to put the sunscreen on peter’s face, but he ducks away.

“no thanks. i don’t need it. i’m trying to tan, remember?”

“that’s not how it works, pete. even if you’re tanning, you still need to protect your skin. the knowledge you lack in skincare is concerning.”

“but, babe. i’m so pale.”

“and if you don’t use sunscreen, you’re gonna burn like a crisp.”

“i’ll take my chances.”

peter smirks and pecks your cheek, continuing to set up your stuff. you sigh and take a seat in one of the chairs. you watch as peter tries to stake an umbrella in the ground. he mutters in annoyance to himself, muscles flexing with each movement. you thoroughly enjoy the view of him shirtless and sweaty, hard at work.

“phew, got it.”

peter falls into his chair, raking his fingers through his frizzy curls. you pass him a water bottle from the cooler.

“good job, pete. hydrate, it’ll come in handy.”

“you’re such a mom.”

“you love it.”

“i do, and i love you.”

peter gulps down the cool water, laying back in his chair and extending his legs in the sand. you grab a drink for yourself with a grin.

“love you too, dork.”

you read a novel you’d recently picked up while peter works on his tan. it’s painstakingly hot out, but the shade from the umbrella helps. you reapply sunscreen every once in a while, and although you offer it to peter each time, he’s adamant on not needing it.

you’re too invested in your novel to notice the change in the weather. the sun has gone in, hidden somewhere behind the clouds. it’s not until a raindrop lands on the page you’re reading that you realize it’s raining.

“pete? did you feel that?”

he doesn’t answer. you fold the corner of the page you’re on and close the book, squeezing peter’s shoulder.

“peter?”

peter jolts up in his chair, pushing his sunglasses onto his head.

“huh? i fell asleep.”

you pull down your sunglasses to get a better look at him, mouth hanging wide open. peter makes a face.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

all you can do is point at his chest. peter follows your finger, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. his skin is completely red. he feels his face, and it’s burning, his nose and cheeks the same shade as his chest.

“i should have worn sunscreen.”

“you think?”

the rain starts to come down harder. peter blinks roughly when a few drops get in his eyes.

“is it raining?”

“yeah, i was trying to tell you. we should get going.”

you begin to pack up. peter kicks back in his chair.

“nah, i wanna stay.”

“but it’s raining.”

“so? we’re already here, and it feels kinda nice. let’s just stay a while.”

you have to admit, the rain is refreshing after being in the heat all day.

peter gets up and walks over to you, grinning.

“c’mere.”

you drop the cooler you were packing and let peter take you into his embrace. you hold onto his shoulders, careful to avoid his sunburn. peter loops an arm around your lower back, thumbs hooking into the straps of your bottoms and chin resting on your shoulder. he sways you two side to side, leading you across the sand, following his own beat.

“what’re you doing?”

“dancing with you.”

peter holds out one of his hands for you to take. you laugh and lock your fingers together, now in the proper position. water droplets drip down your skin, and peter’s hair is soaking wet, but that doesn’t stop him from swaying your body close to his.

“you’re such a cheeseball.”

“you love it.”

you kiss the tip of peter’s red nose, dancing around in the pouring rain.

summer prompts

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @kayasholland @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks

(join my new taglist!)

564 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Note

starks daughter reader x peter parker, making out? like the avengers ask jarvis to show what’s happening in her room and they see what’s happening?

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: 719

warnings: 18+, explicit language, implied smut

a/n: i made one little change so it’s friday instead of jarvis but everything else is the same so i hope you don’t mind and that you enjoy! also don’t forget to join my new taglist y’all mwah

“y/n…”

you’re kissing down peter’s neck, lips leaving goosebumps on his skin. he’s practically writhing underneath you, and you’ve hardly even done anything.

yet.

“y/n, baby.”

you grip the collar of peter’s shirt in both hands and bring your lips to the shell of his ear.

“yes, peter?”

“c’mon, we can’t. we’re… we’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“wouldn’t you rather eat me instead?”

your teeth sink into peter’s earlobe, a hand traveling down to the bottom of his shirt. peter throws his head back and closes his eyes, trying to resist you, but he can’t. you’re his weakness.

“fuck, y/n/n. don’t do this to me.”

“what, is there something else you want me to do to you?”

you start to pull peter’s shirt over his head, but he grabs both your hands in one of his.

“we’ve gotta go join the others. you know how important team dinners are to your dad.”

“and you know how much i despise them.”

“yeah, but i don’t understand why. i think they’re a sweet idea.”

“i think they suck.”

“how come?”

“steve makes the blandest food, thor has literally zero table manners, and everyone’s always asking me questions. way too many questions.”

“you mean trying to get to know you?”

“it’s the fucking worst.”

peter chuckles and pulls you in by your waist.

“you really are a stark.”

“am i? because the leader of the pack came up with this whole team dinner thing.”

“your dad just wants everyone to spend more time together.”

“well, i just wanna spend time with you.”

you peck peter’s lips. peter smiles and secures his arms around your waist.

“at least wanda’s cooking tonight. means the food will actually have some flavor.”

“yippee.”

peter lets out a breath.

“i’d be more than happy to eat you for dessert, but dinner first, okay?”

“or i could be your appetizer.”

your lips attack peter’s before he can respond. despite himself, he gives in this time, kissing back with just as much fervor.

“what’s taking them so long? the chicken paprikash is almost done.”

“looks delish, wanda. i’ve never had sokovian food before.”

“oh, thank you, scott. you’ll love it.”

“sure, sure. i bet i will. i just, y’know… it won’t be spicy, will it?”

sam elbows bucky’s arm.

“dude thinks paprika is spicy.”

“and i thought i was bad.”

scott frowns.

“what? it’s a spice, isn’t it?”

tony enters the dining room with a grin, rubbing his hands together.

“hey, gang. smells good in here, little red.”

“thanks, tony. i’m just about ready to serve it. we’re waiting on the kids.”

“oh? they’re still not down yet?”

“nope,” bruce sighs. “i saw them sneaking up to y/n’s room earlier,” natasha smirks. “dang, you didn’t have to rat them out,” sam remarks.

“like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“fair.”

“stop teasing, you two,” steve chastises. “no, no. this is true. i passed little stark and the spiderling on the stairs,” thor says.

tony glares at thor.

“so you all knew they were canoodling, and no one thought to tell me?”

“uh oh, drama,” scott whispers to wanda. “canoodling?” natasha snorts.

steve shoots them both looks.

“i’m sure they’re on their way down, tony.”

“yeah? let’s find out.”

tony double taps his glasses. his artificial intelligence comes to life.

“friday, show me y/n.”

“on it, boss.”

friday taps into her system that’s installed in your room and broadcasts the feed to tony’s glasses. he immediately regrets asking her to do so when he sees what you’re up to. yours and peter’s tongues are quite literally down each other’s throats, and peter is trying to take your bra off, but struggling to unhook it.

tony rips off his glasses and tosses them onto the dining room table. he shudders, shaking his head to rid his mind of the image. natasha puts on tony’s glasses to see for herself.

“yup. they’re canoodling, alright.”

“for real? this i’ve gotta see.”

“wait your turn, wilson.”

tony snatches his glasses back from natasha.

“absolutely not. no one will be taking turns watching my daughter and parker swap spit. have some class, will you?”

“yeah, have some class!” thor chimes in through a mouthful of bread wanda had put on the table.

wanda joins everyone with a serving plate of food.

“chicken paprikash, anyone?”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx

14K notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Join my taglists

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

My masterlists are organized in alphabetical order by the character’s first name.

Characters

Chrissy Cunningham

Eddie Munson

Robin Buckley

Steve Harrington

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson

54 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

Marvel Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Join my taglists

This Masterlist has links to masterlists for characters I’ve written for. All links are in alphabetical order.

Groups

Avengers

Black Widow Family

Eternals

Guardians of the Galaxy

Maximoff Family

Characters

Agatha Harkness

Bruce Banner (Hulk)

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel)

Daisy Johnson (Quake)

Darcy Lewis

Jimmy Woo

Kate Bishop

Loki

Makkari

Maria Hill

Melina Vostokoff

Monica Rambeau (Spectrum)

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) and Maria Hill

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) and Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

Peter Parker (Spider-Man) [Tom Holland]

Peter Quill (Star-Lord)

Sam Wilson (Captain America)

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

Steve Rogers (Captain America) and Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Sylvie

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

Vision

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

Yelena Belova

2K notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Note

Do you have any slight cute headcanons about hulk hanging out with Dr. Banner’s s/o? I would put a flower crown on him.

Thanks for your ask! Sorry I took so long haha I'm not that good at writing for Bruce/Hulk. But I hope you enjoy it ♡

All I can picture is Hulk when he was in Sakar with Thor and they were chatting/arguing lmao

He would look at you with a confused expression when you put a flower crown on him because he didn't understand why you did that. But then he sees that you find it cute and is smiling/laughing

Then he smirks and gives you thumbs up hesitantly

Won't take it off unless someone teases him about it or Thor laughs at him (and then he'd punch him)

Interacting with Hulk would pretty much be like

Such a tiny human... What the hell are they doing

It would be neat for the most part unless he accidentally tackles you

A pro is that he can easily carry you around. Which thinking about it would be kinda funny

He'll just grab you and put you on his shoulder

And you'd be either excited or scared for your life but anyway

He would feel happy though!! You're being kind and playing with him which is so different from his more chaotic violent interactions with other tiny people

Would try to make a flower crown for you too. He would fail ofc, just pretend you like it, the intention is what counts

Would ask you if you prefer Hulk or Banner form. And would be absolutely confident that you'll say him

304 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

I'm in Deep with This Girl (Bruce Banner x Reader)

Category: Fluff, tiny bit of angst

Ship: Bruce Banner x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mention of attempted suicide (Bruce)

Summary: Bruce recalls how you met and got to where you are today.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: My baby boy Bruce does not get enough love and it makes me sad, he's one of my favourites in the MCU :( So I wrote something for him

------------------

Bruce Banner had only three or four defining moments in his life that made him feel like he wasn’t himself, wasn’t a coward. That’s how he used to define himself- cowardly. A man much more likely to choose flight than fight. In his very scientific opinion, he would’ve been a much better person if he had of been born as someone other than himself.

As such, there has been many times when the doctor felt he wasn’t in control of his own life, not least because he had two consciousnesses occupying his mind, body and soul.

In Bruce’s mind, any time he wasn’t acting like himself, it was a good thing, except, of course, for the times Hulk felt mass destruction was in order. For the first few decades of his life, he was fully supportive of this philosophy. Little did he know, all it would take to begin to crumble this fragile mentality was a few short weeks with an unlikely source of happiness for the man.

...

The day Bruce finally decided to stick that damn gun down his throat rather than just staring at it, he was comforted by the thought that he would be doing…it, his way- not through Hulk’s recklessness or someone else’s means. Of course when Hulk spit Banner’s bullet straight back out, Bruce resigned himself to living a sub-standard life. One devoid of any real joy or passion, save for his work.

He knew the day Hulk first appeared in his life, he would never find love again. Not that he had really found requited love before. In high school, being the nerdy kid got him into more trouble than it was worth. Of course now he is successful and his bullies are struggling with their 9-5, minimum wage lives.

Bruce found himself laughing quietly over this thought as he, Thor and Scott walked down the streets surrounding Stark Tower. Scott, as per usual, was hungry and for the past week, had been trying desperately to convince anyone that would listen, to try a new Japanese restaurant that opened up nearby with him. The Asgardian god was intrigued by the promise of raw fish and a drink that Scott had assured him rivalled the quality of Asgardian mead.

Thor would later find out Scott Lang was simply a light-weight due to his constantly changing metabolism. This was a heartbreak the God of Thunder would not soon recover from.

It was a brisk morning in New York City when Bruce had overheard this conversation and decided he could use some air.

This was how he found himself walking the same route he did most days. Despite living in a tower with unlimited technology, one of the simple pleasures in Bruce’s day was a short walk to get coffee from his favourite hole-in-the-wall cafe. It made him feel normal, like he wasn’t sticking out like a big green thumb.

In order to reach the quaint location, Bruce had to pass by an establishment by the name of Murphy’s. Despite the implication, it was not an Irish pub. This usually made Bruce chuckle and as such, it stuck out in his brilliant mind, however this was not the only reason for its notability. Murphy’s was also where Bruce found his other simple pleasure in his otherwise stressful and frankly one-dimensional life.

You.

Each day he passed, Bruce snuck a look into the cafe to see if the girl who had caught his eye all those months ago was there. The first time he saw you, you were serving drinks to an older couple. You had obviously been working a few hours already. Your hair had fallen slightly out of place, meaning you were constantly brushing it out of your eyes, and your apron was covered in what he could only assume was powered sugar from the cakes in the cabinet of the shop.

Bruce looked up by chance. He noticed how tired you appeared, yet you still took the time to connect with your customers, smiling and laughing. Listening to them. Perhaps this was drew Bruce to you, your ability to listen instead of dominating the conservation, something he was not typically used to having himself.

Bruce watched you smile again at the couple as he walked on. He knew he was doomed from the minute the voice of the green giant himself uttered “pretty lady.”

...

Since then, his habit had become routine, and despite passing by a little later than usual, the doctor hoped you were still there.

Scott and Thor continued their quite frankly, childish, discussion about whether or not Thor could have taken down a T-Rex when Bruce’s eyes wandered to the cafe.

His heart dropped a little as his quick glance for you was unyielding.

“Banner, the insect does not believe I fought Hulk. Tell him about the Grand…Banner?” Thor spoke, trailing off when Bruce didn’t respond.

Shit. He’d been caught.

Thor stopped walking and followed Bruce’s gaze. Just his luck, you emerged from the kitchen as the Norse god realised what was happening.

A smile spread across the blond’s face. “She is a fine maiden, Banner.”

In response to Thor’s comment, a blush appeared on the shorter’s face. This was for two reasons. Firstly, because it was true. You were gorgeous and Bruce suddenly realised how stupid he was to think that you wouldn’t have someone at home waiting for you. Secondly, he realised how idiotic he’d been to even think that he had a chance with you.

Scott, who had finally realised he was walking alone, had quickly retreated back to the group and assessed the situation.

“Bruce, go talk to her. What’s the worst that can happen?” Lang suggested sincerely.

“I don’t know, you guys. I’m not that type of person.”

“Banner,” Thor said softly to his friend, “no reward ever comes from chances not taken.”

“What he said,” Scott concurred, “Go get her, buddy. We’ll see you at the tower later!”

The superhero quickly grabbed Thor’s arm and dragged him away, leaving Bruce outside the cafe wondering what to do.

In the end, Bruce decided he didn’t feel like being himself today.

It was a blur as he walked into Murphy’s. The sweet smell of caramel and coffee enveloped him, thankfully even in his panic-driven state, Bruce decided a table by the back wall was a safe choice.

At least that way he could see the whole room. It seemed some habits couldn’t be broken and he realised, that was in fact, the very thing that had gotten him where he was now.

He eyed off the other patrons as you came over to greet your new customer.

“Hi, welcome to Murphy’s. What can I get you?” Bruce realised he had to speak but the words were caught in his throat, you were even more beautiful up close. “Sir, are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine, I’m so sorry about that.” Bruce willed himself to take deep breaths. “I was actually wondering when your shift finishes. I was hoping that you’d maybe like to sit together and um, have a coffee possibly? Or not, considering it’s your whole job. Never mind, forget I asked.”

“I’d love to,” you interrupted Bruce’s rambling. He didn’t think it was possible but your smile grew even wider and he quickly discovered it was infectious.

“Wow, um, great! Sorry I’m just surprised.”

“I finish in 10 minutes. Can I get you something in the meantime?” You had asked him, heart fluttering.

“Oh, um, no thank you. But what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Of course not. It’s Y/N L/N.”

‘Y/N,’ Bruce repeated in his mind, ‘beautiful.’

…

Bruce emerged from the memory as you changed your position in his lap. He had been reading to you, and knowing you would fall asleep, he had the pair of you wrapped in the warmest blankets he could find.

He started down at the unbelievable woman in his arms and placing a loving kiss to your hairline, reminisced about how he got so lucky.

…

From day one, you’d always managed to surprise him, the man of science who thought he knew his fair share about the world. And maybe that was why you worked so well together. You provided Bruce with the flare he felt his life was lacking. You were the spark he needed to re-ignite his passion for life.

Quickly after you’d agreed to have coffee with the doctor, Bruce realised he was about to have his first date with you, and as he’d already been proven to do, he rambled nervously. He was pleasantly taken-aback as later on, you recounted information he’d told you, back to him. Not only did you listen to him but you asked questions. You were genuinely interested in him and to take it one step further, you did something not many people dared to do with him, you sassed him.

“Save your breath, Banner,” you’d told him, “you’ve got me.”

In that moment, he thought maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so bad to be Bruce Banner after all. But oh boy, there was two moments in the doctor’s life with you that surpassed those easily, making him feel like being Bruce Banner was the best thing he could ever be.

…

“I’m sorry, I’m probably not the guy you were expecting. It’s just that my friends told me to come and talk to you and well, here I am.”

“Bruce,” you started, “is it okay if I call you that?”

He nodded.

You knew who we was, of course you did, and you wanted to respect the title he’d worked so hard to get. Scribbling on a nearby napkin, you continued talking, happy with his consent.

“I’m really happy your friends told you to come in. Truth is, I’ve noticed you too, but I can’t exactly chase a man down the street in the middle of my shift,” you chuckled, sliding him the napkin. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. I’m not ghosting you I swear, this was really great. I just have a thing.”

Bruce took the napkin, feeling his heart sink a little. He never wanted the moment to end. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s my number. Call me yeah? I know where you get your coffee if you don’t.”

Bruce, who was still in shock that you even wanted to see him again, simply smiled as you walked out of the cafe, offering him a final wave.

It’s usually a sign that it has been a good day for Bruce when he returns to the tower and Tony Stark asks him if he’s okay because he’s ‘smiling like a mad man.’

For a week Tony asked him that question, and from that day onwards, Tony knew the key to Banner’s good mood had something to do with you.

…

The second moment, Bruce remembered, was in his opinion, the best of his life so far. It was the night you told him about your feelings for him.

As he himself was falling asleep on the couch, book abandoned, he recalled how utterly stunning you were the night of Tony’s last fundraiser ball.

…

You had thought long and hard about your dress choice. You wanted to impress Bruce as this was the first time he would be seeing you in anything like this outfit. Not to mention that you’d also planned on taking things to the next level with him.

This was your seventh date and when he’d asked you to be his during date number three, you were over the moon. A month later and you were ready to say it, the thing you’d felt since your first date with the gorgeous doctor. The ‘L’ word.

Bruce, naturally, was oblivious to your feelings and was still reeling that you’d even said yes in the first place. But the moment he saw you in that stunning split-leg red dress, he felt his heart swell with pride. All these people in the room with their eyes on you and you were his. You chose him.

You quickly made your way over to your boyfriend, hiding in his arms and muttering that everyone was watching you.

He’d simply said ‘of course they are, look at you’ and kissed you so sweetly you thought you might swoon. You were sure your cheeks matched the colour of your dress.

You mingled with everyone for a while, talking with Dr. Cho about new medical technological advances, and Steve Rogers about the ‘good old days.’ Everyone was polite and accommodating, you realised you felt more at ease than you thought you would.

Across the room, Thor patted Banner’s back, smiling like a proud big brother, and secretly congratulating himself for being responsible for the connection between you two.

You managed to catch Bruce’s eye soon after and motioned to the bar, moving over after saying your goodbyes to Steve.

“Having a good time?” Your boyfriend asked you. He knew you sometimes struggled with new people and crowds.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, holding his hand from the adjacent seat.

“I’m glad honey. Now let’s get you a drink and pretend I’m the man of your dreams,” Bruce chuckled nervously, it was a joke from a dinner you’d had a few weeks back.

As he flagged down the bartender, you realised this was your chance.

“I think you just might be, Doctor Banner.”

“Wait, what? Really?!” he questioned, trying to recover from choking on his own spit.

“Yes, Bruce,” you laughed softly. You placed a hand on his cheek and moved so your knees were touching, “In fact, I think I love you…”

You searched the brunet’s face for any signs of a reaction as he stared at you, mouth agape. Before you could apologise or ask if he was okay, you felt your lips being pulled against his.

You had never felt so much passion, let alone known Bruce was even capable of kissing like that.

“I love you too, Y/N, so much.”

…

You stirred and realised Bruce’s snoring was the cause of your rude awakening. He had shifted down the couch so that he was lying flat, with you still wrapped in his arms, ear to his chest.

“The only benefit of the other guy,” he’d once told you, “is that I can protect you from anything.”

You smiled to yourself as the words rang in your ears. Lifting your head, you placed a kiss on the doctor’s cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered before sleep took you again.

Despite you constantly reminding him of your love, over the coming months , Bruce would often experience doubt about why you were with him. You knew who he was and who he became when he hasn’t himself.

It had taken a long time for you to convince Bruce that Hulk made him a better person, he was not a seperate entity to be feared but a part of him, and that loving Bruce meant loving Hulk too. Hulk very much liked the sound of that and slowly came out to spend more time with ‘his Y/N.’

You trusted Bruce. He saw your demons as you saw his and you knew that was what likely made your relationship feel so effortless, so natural. You didn’t think of Hulk as a demon though, simply an extension of Bruce and it gave you more of him to love. Loving Bruce Banner was all you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

Bruce still passed by Murphy’s every day. But now, it was to get coffee from his girl.

And he knew he was the luckiest person in the world as you threw a kiss in with every cup.

------------

471 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

*°• overview: •°*

Eddie was always quirky and you never knew why. Until his little secret decided he wanted a piece of the fun.

*°• pairing: •°*

Eddie Brock x Reader. Venom x reader(?)

*°• theme: •°*

Smut. 18+. Minors DNI.

*°• warnings: •°*

Threesome(?). Oral (F receiving). Dirty talk. Ass slapping. Tongue fucked by a symbiote.

*°• word count: •°*

1.6k

Kinktober masterlist Masterlist Taglist form

Your gaze on Eddie never faltered as you watched him type furiously at his desk. He was so gorgeous like this. Focused, thinking, typing out whatever came to that beautiful mind of his. But recently things have been different. Now, Eddie was always a character. He was different. A good difference at that. He had his quirks and his oddities. But that was what made you fall in love with him. It was the way he always knew what you were thinking. And the way he knew exactly what to say in certain situations.

Your phone was long forgotten as you moved to get off the couch. Eddie audibly sighed when he felt your tender embrace around his shoulders. “Who’re you talking to over here, eds?” You whispered softly. You couldn’t help yourself as you began to kiss tenderly against his skin. “Just thinking out loud” he answered airly, reaching a hand back to hold onto your hair.

“C'mere” he whispered, smiling at your giggles as you climbed into his lap. “Distracting me” Eddie mumbled against your lips. He didn’t seem mad though. In fact he sounded pleased. This meant he would finally get a break.

“No” he grumbled against your lips. “Hm?” You pulled away to look down at him.

“Nothing. Nothing- let’s go to the bedroom” he stood up easily and carried you with such ease. Like you weighed nothing. In his arms you were safe. Away from dangers and harm. Tangled up in his grasp and the feeling of his warm tongue entering your eager mouth. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist to keep his stomach against your core.

“I can feel how wet you are, baby girl. Practically seeping through your fuckin’ panties” he turned around abruptly and tossed you onto the bed. You breathed heavily in surprise as you bounced lightly. “Eddie” you purred.

Your fingers crooked to motion him over, eyes heavy and lustful as you watched the male at the end of the bed. Your jaw softened and dropped as you watched him peel his shirt off. You would never get used to seeing his body. And you loved the way his neck and cheeks turned bright pink at your reaction.

“Eddie”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“You better come over here and touch me” Eddie smiled at your words, sauntering over to settle himself between your thighs. He groaned against your lips when your heels dug into his lower back to keep him slotted against you. Your nails scratched at his scalp tenderly as you two kissed passionately. And it felt like the very first time you two touched each other. Every time was like the first.

“Get these off” you whispered hotly and giggled excitedly. You looked up at him and saw a change in his eyes. The way he was staring down at you was completely different. “Eds?” You whispered. He pulled himself back quickly and stood up again. He had removed his jeans yet made no move to return to his spot. “My love” he inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry” you furrowed your brows again.

“What- why?” You asked nervously. “He’s been badgering me all day. I- I can’t get hard until he shuts up” you were consumed with confusion. “What’re you talking about?” You asked again. Your eyes grew wide as you watched your boyfriend shift. Was it shifting? Where Eddie once stood, was now a taller form. Sharp teeth smiling at you. And yet the wetness between your thighs never left.

You swallowed thickly as you looked up at the creature. Alien? One of those symbiote’s Eddie always talks of? “Hello” venom spoke with the same large smile. You waved nervously, trying not to shuffle back from him. You weren’t scared. If anything you were eager to see what this new form could do. “I could smell you all day. And I was jealous that Eddie got to eat you without sharing. Again” you nodded numbly along with his words.

“Do…do you always watch? Or listen” you asked meekly. The smile only deepened on Venom’s face. His sleek pink tongue jutted out. Almost in excitement. “I listen. And I must say I am very jealous” you giggled lightly and shook your head. “Well” you felt a burst of confidence come over you. “Why don’t you come and taste for yourself” your knees fell open.

The symbiote wasted no time with moving over and taking Eddie's spot. The burn of the stretch between your thighs was new. He was much larger compared to your human sized lover. The tip of his pointed tongue flicked over your clit. Your hips jolted at the flick of pleasure you felt burn into your body.

Venom growled at the taste. So sweet and so bitter. So new. Your hands fisted at the covers. You didn’t know what to do with them so you opted for keeping them at your sides. “Much better than chocolate” he muttered and snarled as he flicked his tongue out again. The feeling of it slithering into your soaked opening was ethereal.

Gasping and panting as you fell down against the mattress.

He definitely knew what he was doing.

Venom was practically drinking from your cunt as he thrusted his tongue and tasted you all over. “Tell me I’m better than Eddie” he growled suddenly. “Venom” he went back to sliding his tongue languidly inside you. “Venom” you whined loudly. Your own hands came up to squeeze your tits.

“Feels so good. You’re so good” you whined heavily, huffing as he got his tongue deeper. As if it were possible. “Say it” he snarled. His tongue moved to swirling around your clit. And you already knew you wouldn’t be allowed to cum until you said it. “Venom” you moaned and looked down at him.

You choked on a sharp moan as you started to babble. “So much better than Eddie. Feels so fuckin’ good- Eddie can’t get that deep with his tongue, Venom” you groaned loudly and arched your back as his tongue trailed around your core to lap up what he could before sliding the muscle right back into your pussy. You let your hands grip onto what should be his shoulders.

You huffed angrily when you felt him pull off you. And suddenly Eddie was back and in front of you. “You liked that a bit too much” he pulled his boxers off and reached down to grab your ankles. He flipped you over with the same ease he had with lifting you. “You like venom?” He smirked and slapped a hand against your hand harshly.

Slap. “Answer me.”

“I like venom, Eddie. I like how he eats my pussy” you answered breathily and cried out as another slap landed on your ass. “Ass up. Keep your face down on the bed.” You laid your front against the bed more comfortably. You arched your back downwards to get your ass up for Eddie. Just how he liked it. And you loved to please your man whenever you could.

“Such a whore ya know? Just letting anyone eat your pussy” he tapped the tip of his hard cock against your opening and slipped himself in slowly. You both gasped in unison as he slipped into your pussy. And once he bottomed out, you could tell he wanted to tease you. Try and take his time with loosening you up and really drag it out.

“I think you liked seeing how much pleasure venom gave me” you purred. Your hips pushed back against his cock to get him deeper. The moan Eddie released was animalistic. And the combination with him being so deep inside you and the way you were clenching was just spurring him on.

“Hands” you reached behind yourself and wrapped your hands around his forearm so he could hold you up. His cock began a brutal pace in and out of you. Your moans mixed and mingled with each other’s. And it brought you even more pleasure to hear him grunt and huff behind you.

Your nails dug into his heated skin as his hips began to smack against your ass. The only noises in your bedroom was the euphoric sound of moaning and skin on skin. You glanced back at Eddie and moaned at just the sight of him.

His head was tilted back. Eyes squeezed shut and jaw slacked. He was gorgeous when he was feeling the same amount of pleasure coursing through him. “Put your head back down” he tangled his hand into your hair and pushed your face back down into the mattress. “There we go. Take my cock like the good girl I know you can be” he purred.

You cried out into the comforter as his cock began to nudge at your g-spot. His hands released your arms, drilling his cock deeper into you until you were shaking and moaning from the intense pleasure that you were receiving from your lover. “I’m gonna cum. Fill up your tight pussy.” You clenched tightly around him as you grew closer.

Closer. Closer. And closer.

Until you both released heavily with each other. The mere feeling of Eddie filling you up as you came was making you shiver and twitch. “Eddie” you cried, humming happily as he moaned behind you. Your name was falling from his plump lips as he came down. His fingers rubbed against your hips. “Stay inside me”

Eddie hummed against your shoulder and hugged against you closer. You both laid in silence until Eddie pulled off to lay beside you. “So” Eddie started. You giggled tiredly against your hands. “You let a giant slime man run your life?”

Taglist ; @mypoisonedvine @sojournmichael @celestialrequiem @morbid-personality @sargbarneshelps @dadplease @mickey-henry @nony-bear @doubleleoenergy @navybrat817 @buckyblues @syrenavenger @midnightf @suchababie @astrorogers @emmygrey21 @superhoeva @agentofbarnes @spacecinnamonbuns @rogerthat-steve @danneelsmain @bucksgoat

@puppy-danvers2016 @xxromanoffxx @violetmuses @hagridsmomma @devilslilbabysblog

3K notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

Human Easter Basket.

Pairing: Venom x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy/incubation, bondage, smut, monster sex, spit roasting (?), tentacle sex, venom is a sweet heart, I am a fucking pervert.

Authors note: no better way to remember the resurrection of Jesus Christ then monster sex ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

Sorry this is a day, two days, three days, very late

∞=∞=∞=O=∞=∞=∞

The warm black tendrils slowly made there way around the front of your body, sliding over skin and enveloping you. The hot tongue of the creature slobbered across your cheek, leaving a trail of drool. The tentacles wrapped around you midsection slowly started creeping upwards until they covered your breasts. Your eyes rolled back as the warm black goo began to suck at every atom of the sensitive skin. You cried out and arched your back as the suckling sensation reached your sensitive peaks, causing slick to drip down your thighs.

The long tongue slid down your bare thighs, scooping up some slick on the way. Venom purred “so sweet little one”. The tongue slid between your folds soaking them even further before pushing in. Venom swirled it’s tongue, thrusting it in and out until you were a quivering mess. “Your going to make a perfect incubator”

Before you could even ask what it meant, venom shifted your body away from its chest, inky black tentacles wrapping around your legs and back before hoisting you up and attaching to the ceiling. It was almost like suspension rope bondage, if the ropes were alive that is.

Venom spread your legs wide, shifting its head closer to your wet cunt. It licked another set of long stripes up your pussy, dragging its razor sharp teeth over your mound. Your legs were shaking like leaves in a hurricane as the inky alien tentacles stimulated all your most sensitive spots, finding new ones even you didn’t know about. One of the tentacles pushed itself between your folds, rubbing back and forth to lubricate itself with your slick. It felt…..different then the others. Bigger, thicker, veiner.

“Gonna pump you full of our eggs little ones”

The promise sent a jolt of fear fueled lust down your spine. You called out for your boyfriend, voice shaking. “E-Eddie”

“Shhh little one. It’s just you and I now” Venom purred soothingly, pressing one of the smaller tentacles to your lips. You were absolutely swimming from pleasure and your brain was so fuzzy that, on instinct, your tongue darted out and licked a small stripe up the tendril.

Even Venom seemed to be taken aback by that for a moment before he, hesitantly, pushed the tendril further into your mouth and down your throat.

“You like that little one?” He growled as he began to slowly fuck your throat. You could only make a gurgled sound of agreement as the appendage filled your throat. It was hot and wet and smooth and…..sweet? It tasted as amazing as it felt, completely distracting you from the thick member throbbing between your soaked lips.

The head breached your entrance, making you cry out as it stretched your opening but Venom didn’t stop until they were fully sheathed inside you. The hefty appendage poked into your womb sending rippling waves of agony through your nerves, combined with the sweet stimulation of your…..well everywhere, sent you flying up to cloud 9.

You came, hard, gushing over venoms thick cock with a moan so loud you were sure the neighbors heard it (as if they didn’t already hear everything ELSE going on). Venom Fucking howled, basking in the shuddery, twitching, moaning mess they turned you into.

It took a few minutes to fully come down from your high, the pain in your womb ebbing down to a dull ache. Venom was purring like a cat above you, slipping the small tentacle from your mouth to gently stroke your cheek. “Ready little one?”

It was hard to describe a slimy, inky, mass of tentacles with razor sharp teeth and claws as sweet but it was the only fathomable way to describe the look venom gave you. The large, predatory eyes where soft as the tentacle gently caressed your cheek in a soothing manner. You smiled, nodding and leaning into the gentle touch.

The first one made you jump, as much as you could anyways. The swelling stretched your entrance to the point of pain, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, before snapping shut around that thing.

‘It’s a fucking egg’ you chastise yourself ‘stop calling it a thing it’s an egg’

‘Oh my god it’s an egg’

The tidal wave of panic threatening to drown you is crushed under the sensation of the egg reaching your womb. It’s agonizing but, with the way the other tentacles are plucking at your nipples and flicking over your clit, it quickly melts into sweet euphoria. You take in a few gasping breaths, relieved that it’s over.

But then you feel another one.

Another egg stretches your tight entrance, traveling through your tight channel and coming to rest in its new home.

And then another one.

And another.

And it keeps fucking going.

“V-Venom, it’s to much” you sob, your crowded womb aching as tears freely flow down your cheeks.

The small black tendril comes up and brushes the tears off your cheeks. “Almost done little one”.

The thick cock like tentacle begins pumping in and out of you, abusing your over used cunt even further. You couldn’t even cry out you were so exhausted, but the moment the long hot tongue touched your clit a single zing of energy shot up your spine.

Venoms cock was swelling, their thrusts were growing erratic and their growls were getting louder. But it was obvious they weren’t going to finish until they made you gush one more time (a gentlemanly habit picked up from Eddie no doubt)

The swirling of their tongue and the constant pressure on your g spot sent you flying, letting out a long loud moan as your cunt tightened around them. Venom followed immediately after, filling you this a thick sticky liquid that made your eyes roll back into your head.

Venom gently places you on the bed, still gasping and exhausted, before shifting back into Eddie. He quickly runs and grabs you a glass of water, holding it to your lips as you gently sip the cool liquid. He places the empty glass on the nightstand before slipping into bed behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

After a few ticks of silence Eddie speaks up. “How are you feeling”

“Like I just got pumped full of symbiote eggs” you snap back, groaning as you try to turn your head to glare at him.

“Heh” Eddie starts “guess your like a human Easter basket now huh?”

The temptation to roll over and punch his coils in your gut, immediately shocking your sore stretched womb. You resolve to simply growl “watch it Brock”

He nuzzled his face into your hair, whispering out a small, genuine “thank you”

And if it wasn’t for the exhaustion you would have sworn your heard venom say it to.

∞=∞=∞=O=∞=∞=∞

So I saw this and then I wrote this trash XD

1K notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

peter parker masterlist

my favorites # over 5k ^ requested %

peter parker

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

ONE SHOTS

five hour energy thief

tasm! -> some jerk has the nerve to snatch the last bottle of five hour energy and you can’t stand his beautiful face, especially after he runs you over with his skateboard

mitosis #^

you and peter have a bio project on asexual reproduction; specifically, mitosis. the avengers believe there is a different type of reproduction going on, and hint hint, it is not asexual.

eerie psychic abilities %

it doesn't take a mind reader to figure out that peter parker is spiderman. but it certainly expedites the process.

(un)requited infatuation #^

peter parker is in love with you and he won't do anything about it. but if there's nothing going on between the two of you, the rest of the avengers are free to make their moves, right? (three parts)

hard worker %

“Y/N, what are you doing?” “Breathing.” “Y/N IS SUCH A HARD WORKER.” -> drabble: peter's obsessed with everything you do

i know you'd never %

"you flinched." "are you afraid of me?" -> tasm!peter and you have a fight

peter parker picks a pack of period products

smau: peter offers to get you period products but has a few misconceptions about how they work.

comfort movie %

peter parker comforts enhanced! reader when they're overstimulated and have a panic attack

'til the gravity's too much % (new!)

"don't you dare walk away from me" -> peter's jealous of you and brad; the fight brings back negative memories

521 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

bucky barnes masterlist

# my favorites ^ over 5k % requested

bucky barnes

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

ONE SHOTS

bucky’s bluetooth blues

bucky breaks his new earbuds trying to untangle them. when tony brings home airpods for the avengers, bucky has a whole new problem.

the one where the protein shake plays matchmaker ^

you and bucky barnes can find any reason to hate each other. new york can find any reason to believe you two are together. when steve asks you to do a co-interview with bucky, the two of you are barraged by dating rumors that you vehemently deny and it breaks bucky’s heart. do you really find the thought of being with bucky so revolting?

don quixote and the classics #^

bucky develops a sudden affinity for secondhand books from one specific store, and coincidentally, that store just so happens to employ a pretty, intriguing bookkeeper. from don quixote to the history of Hun empire archery techniques, bucky just wants to see you again.

delicate %^ new!

to soften his reputation, natasha suggests that bucky find a plus one to tony's party. only, you think that bucky's going with natasha, wanda offers to go with you, bucky thinks you'd rather go with anyone except him, and natasha's fed up with the idiocy. chaos ensues.

the eggs benedict to your mass production % new!

"i'm not as good as you think i am" -> bucky thinks you're brilliant and beautiful and out of his league. you think bucky's confident and charismatic and out of your league. you're assigned to tutor him but it turns out both of you need lessons on emotional maturity.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

SERIES

wild heart (in progress)

bucky’s had his fair share of bad luck, but that’s exactly what you are—a walking omen. where you go, misfortune strikes. but there is something larger at play, and you are the answer. for the first time, you are valuable. and against all odds, perhaps you will be how bucky finally learns what good luck is.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

main masterlist

comment to be added to my taglist <3

231 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

crying ; eddie brock.

track two of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; eddie brock x vigilante!gn!reader ft. venom

synopsis ; society’s busted and we’re all wearing rose-colored glasses.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; comedy, mild action

warnings / includes ; profanity, lots of blood, violence, serious injuries, one mention of getting drunk, venom and reader are bffs, venom is an annoying little shit, 90 day fiance is mentioned twice LMAO, this fic is basically just the three of yall bickering constantly <3

main masterlist.

There were always those scenes in movies where the main character sat up somewhere high, staring out at the city below them, and made some sort of offhand comment about how beautiful the view was. The fact that you thought the city still looked like trash from all way up here probably meant you were a side character of some sorts. You didn’t quite mind that. The streets always stank of piss and puke and weed, but you supposed that was home for you.

You and Eddie were perched atop the scaffolding of a half-completed tower, observing the sun bleed out over the sky as it descended below the horizon. Having freshly slunken away from an alley fight, you were bleeding profusely from several orifices—dried blood caked the entirety of the bottom half of your face and you’d acquired a nifty new stab wound to your abdomen. It should’ve concerned you that it was slightly more laborious to breathe than usual, which led you to believe you had a fractured rib. Fuck. It’s not like you could go to the hospital—a vigilante with no name had no business in a place like that.

Eddie, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine (or, as fine as he usually did, which wasn’t very fine at all). He was unscathed due to the lovely fact that he had a literal goo parasite living inside him, but you supposed you couldn’t complain. He ate like trash and would barely sleep an hour a week, so you weren’t really sure who was worse off at the moment.

With a wheezing sigh, you took a bite out of the sandwich Eddie split with you.

“Why the fuck is there egg salad in this?” you snarled while shooting Eddie the dirtiest look you could muster, drawing your legs in towards your chest so you could rest your chin on your knees. “I’ve told you a million times by now—that shit is disgusting.”

Eddie grunted around a mouthful of his half of the egg salad sandwich. “It was all they had left. Just eat it, I don’t want you to starve.”

With a disconcerted groan, you ripped off another chunk and chewed angrily, ignoring the clicking sound in your sore jaw. God, you were so tired. Were your eyes slipping shut or was that your vision growing darker? You honestly couldn’t quite tell.

“Why don’t we go back to your place and watch a movie, hm? I’d invite you to mine, but Venom trashed the place. Punched me in the face with my own fist!” he chuckled dryly, but there was genuine irritation behind his words. Then he sucked at his own teeth with a scowl gracing his worn features. “I think I need to go see the dentist soon.”

“You were being rude! It was so uncalled for! I made waffles for you!” you heard Venom’s gravelly voice grumble. They really did bicker like an old married couple.

Eddie burst out into another squeaky tangent—now something about how Venom never respected his boundaries, god they were such a pain to work with—before you felt yourself slump forward and everything went pitch black for a moment.

“I swear to god, if you bring up Anne one more time—I… Y/N? Buddy, are you okay? Oh, there they go.”

You were, in fact, not okay. Taking a dozen blows to the head definitely wasn’t good for your physical health, was it? Not to mention the faceful of concrete, the stab wound, and that really annoying pain in your jaw. You began teetering dangerously from the railing of the tower, before you were slipping off to the side, and you were going down, down, down…

Until a slimy black tentacle arm wrapped around your midriff, and you were swiftly dragged back upwards. A gasp startled itself from your throat as you were ripped from the haze of unconsciousness, eyelids shooting open. Oh, your sandwich was falling off the edge of the tower. Whatever, it’s not like you’d miss it, anyways. You felt bad for whichever poor soul would inevitably smell like egg salad for the rest of the day.

“Ugh, fuck,” you groaned, slapping Venom away from you with a pinched frown. “Stop squeezing me so tight, I think I broke a rib.”

“A thank you would be nice,” the alien muttered lowly. Your scowl only deepened, and you flipped him off angrily. “You know I could drop you off this tower and have you killed easily, right?”

A sardonic leer stretched your bloody lips thin. “You like me too much to do that.”

“That’s true. You are my friend. Even though I tried to eat you when I first met you.”

A huff of a laugh bubbled from your lungs at his words. “Yeah, and I still have yet to hear an apology from you.” Venom remained blissfully quiet, and you hummed in satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, big guy. You’re a shit friend, but you’re a friend nonetheless.”

The dark limb that had extended from Eddie’s back retracted back within his body and Eddie rolled his stiff shoulders with a grunt. “Anyways, as I was saying,” he said nonchalantly, as if you weren’t on the precipice of tumbling to your death just moments ago, “we could watch some crappy reality TV if you don’t have any movies you wanna see. 90 Day Fiance makes me feel better about how much of a mess my own life is.”

“Glad to see you’re being honest with yourself,” you snorted, elbowing him in the side. “But, sure, I’m down. It’ll try to keep me awake, anyway. If I pass out again, I might not wake up again.”

“Don’t say that,” Eddie hissed. “I can’t believe you sometimes. I specifically told you not to come with me this time, and what did you do? You came with me!”

Guffawing, you gruffed out, “That’s what she said.” When Eddie’s scowl only deepened, a shrug lifted one of your shoulders upwards, but you regretted the motion immediately when a jolt of pain coursed through your arm. Carefully, you set your limb back down and fixed your partner with a pointed stare. “You know what, Eddie, you’re not my therapist. Kindly shut the fuck up. It’s over now. Besides, you needed me. If I wasn’t there, you and Venom would’ve been fucked!”

“They’re right,” Venom’s gnarled voice admitted.

“Thank you.”

“Stop encouraging them!” Eddie shrieked indignantly.

“Might I remind you that you’re just as much of a vigilante as I am?” you asked. “We may be fucked up bastards, but society would be fucked without us. We’re all just wearing rose-colored glasses, blind to our own sins. Ugh, what am I even saying? I need to get drunk.” Your eyes slid shut again. “God, I’m so tired. Just… I’m just gonna lie down and go to sleep, okay? G’night guys.”

“No!” Eddie barked out, panic twinging his words. “No, no, no, you stay awake! Venom, slap them. Stay awake, Y/N!”

A cold fist slammed into your cheekbone and you half-groaned, half-sobbed as you crumpled into the scaffolding, cursing out a storm. Pain blossomed all over your face and you spat blood onto the wood, eyes barely pried open.

Eddie was all over you in an instant. “Oh, fuck, oh God, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? What the fuck, Venom? I said slap them! Lightly!”

“You didn’t say lightly,” Venom said, unsure why Eddie was making such a big deal out of this. You were just punched, like, a million times today, what was the issue with one more?

Faintly, you could feel Eddie’s arms haul you up to your limp legs.

“Jesus Christ. Okay, c’mon, you’re okay, let’s go back to your place. No hospitals, yeah? Are you sure?”

“No hospitals!” you hacked out, mouth tasting an awful lot like copper.

“Eddie, they’re getting blood all over your jacket.”

“Not the time, Venom!”

“I really like this jacket, Eddie.”

The sky was dark now, and it made it hard for you to see anything as you stumbled along with Eddie. “I like this jacket, too,” you slurred, despite not being able to see the article of clothing and not at all remembering what it looked like.

“You can have it, buddy,” Eddie said, patting your back lightly. “C’mon, I’ll take care of you.”

After a beat of struggling silence, you heard Venom choke out apprehensively, “I’m sorry I hit you.”

It hurt to smile, but you did so nonetheless. “Like I said,” you rasped, “you’re a shit friend, but you’re a friend nonetheless.”

“I like you better than Eddie,” Venom commented, which made you hoarsely cackle and Eddie balked angrily. “You’re not a pussy.”

“Thanks, Venom.” After a moment’s hesitation, you added on, “But if you hit me again, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”

“I don't need sleep, but fair enough, little human,” the alien easily said. Then, following a lengthy pause, he asked, “Eddie, what is 90 Day Fiance?”

437 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

Marvel Masterlist

Please see under the cut for my Marvel characters masterlists! Current characters include: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Stucky, Loki, Helmut Zemo, Steven Grant, and Johnny Storm. This also includes my Eddie/Venom fic (It took place when they were in the MCU, so it counts). Enjoy!

Find my main Masterlist here!

Because it needs to be said, no one has my permission to translate or repost my fics anywhere.

Key:

🔥 - smut

❤ - fluff

💀 - angst (always with a happy ending because I am soft)

💫 - my favorites

Lees verder

428 notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

venus, planet of love

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

tags: 18+ graphic smut with plot, mentions of marc and khonshu, mentions of therapy and brief panic attack depiction, all the fluffy feels, mutual pining, idiots in love, inexperienced!steven and reader, the l-bomb and lovey dovey sex, aftercare, about 9k word count teehee, friends to lovers

summary: art models are surprisingly hard to come by in london. maybe they just don’t want to work with you. maybe they’re intimidated. steven thinks you’re pretty and marc thinks it’s time to act on it. who knew steven grant would be up for a portrait?

note: first moonknight fic!!! here’s to many more :) feedback and reblogs are 100% appreciated, thanks!

- masterlist - steven grant playlist

“It just looks so smooth, like I want to touch it.”

“What? Her arse?”

The Rokeby Venus stands out as striking against the patterned red wallpaper of the gallery. The painted depiction of Venus is a stark paste of white, sensual and vividly nude as your eyes follow the curvature of brushstrokes on her backside. The soft greys, reds and creams compliment the fleshy paraphernalia of the painting; your starry eyes wander in a mixture of awe and engrossment, while your fidgeting friend beside you finds his gaze on another work of wonder.

“I’m appreciating the art, Steven. Not the arse.”

The corners of your lips tweak into something in the sorts of regale as you deliberately scribble onto your notepad, the sound of the number-two pencil against paper filling the eerie solitude of the museum. Steven’s attentive stare follows the tiny scrunching of your nose and soon, he finds himself amused at how your expression slowly shifts into unmistakable concentration.

It’s endearing.

Especially when he sees the tip of your tongue poke out from between your lips, nestling against the bottom of one of your front teeth.

Adorable.

“Oh, you’d loathe the ancient Egypt exhibit then. Not a tad bit of arses there.” Steven finally catches your eye, your head lifting from hunched shoulders to listen to him. His comment draws a quiet chuckle out of you, to which you motion for him to go on. He doesn’t hesitate. “Well, I mean, nudity had a proper place and time then. The Egyptians prided themselves in — in fashion, in jewels and beads, fabric and linens. Really, nudity was practically associated with work or oftentimes, social status. Royalty loved to dress up. You don’t see many naked ushabti, yeah?”

The strewn sentences leave him with a deep exhale, mouth parting as he gauges your reaction carefully. You’ve always adored his bursts of passion. Youthful, exciting, like the first tall flame of a new candlelight.

Steven makes an effort to ignore the image of Marc harshly rubbing his temples in the golden frame of the painting.

“I don’t think Velázquez intended nudity to be the central theme.” You mindlessly tuck the notepad into the tote bag on your shoulder. The movement causes your elbow to brush against Steven’s forearm, and he gulps roughly at the tingling of his skin. “Nor do I think it’s completely about Venus.”

“Whaddya think then?”

You quirk a brow at his question. “I think… I mean, it’s obviously an allusion to sexuality and the aesthetic of it. But not sex. More like—”

“Beauty.”

You glance at him briefly, voice getting caught in your throat as you lose your train of thought just by looking at him.

“Yeah. Beauty, women, attraction, it’s all very speculative…”

His side profile is something you’ll never get used to. The singular curl that unravels down his forehead knocks the wind right out of you, the dark chocolate strand begging to be wrapped around your finger and the rest carded through your palms.

Sometimes, you think he deserves a museum exhibit of his own, dedicated to his constant busy mind and to the soft yet simultaneously roughened details of his face.

Maybe most of the time, actually.

Steven doesn’t notice the stumble in your body language, too swept up taking the painting in for what feels like the hundredth time but really, his mind can’t stop replaying how ‘sex’ had rolled off of your tongue so beautifully, and now how Marc won’t stop fucking pestering him about growing some balls and manning up tonight.

His watch beeps and pulls you both from your respective trances while Marc sends him a hard glare through the reflection of the watchface. “Oh, bollocks.” Steven sighs out, jaw clenching as anxiety takes over the tranquility of his features.

You turn to him with knitted eyebrows. “Problem?”

“Yeah, think we’ve got to run.” He frowns, gesturing for you to follow him to the front of the exhibit. “Donna’s gonna have my head tomorrow for bringing you ‘round again, love.”

“S’not like I’m breaking and entering.” You playfully smirk at him as you clutch your bag, jutting one foot in front of the other as he hastily takes you through the employee exit and resets the alarm on the door. “And if I did want to rob this place, I would’ve done it by now. No offense.”

“None taken.” He breathes out through a winded laugh, fiddling with the zipper at the bottom of his collared jacket. He treads carefully beside you in the alleyway. “Mind you, as long as you leave the gift shop out of it, yeah?”

The streetlamps cast shadows over your face, but he finds himself gazing at you even through all the darkness.

A lingering stare. An appreciative smile. A mirroring in how you both tilt your heads to the side ever so slightly. But Steven sees the second hand embarrassment on Marc’s face transcend into the golden swirls of puddles on the cobblestone, his eyes screwed shut as a pained scoff leaves him.

Could’ve kissed her right now, Steven.

Your toothy grin is all in one airy and lighthearted. Despite Marc’s unmistakable jabs, he’s proud of at least one thing:

Making you smile.

“Of course, silly.”

No one really expects a friendship between an art student and a gift shop-ist from the National Gallery to work in a manner that is so effortless, so easy, as if it were like clockwork.

Except, the hour hand and the minute hand will never line up.

Because you’re semi-convinced that Steven doesn’t harbor any sort of attraction towards you, nothing more than feelings of friendliness and a dash of awkwardness. But then there’s that other part of you, the part that notices the stolen glances, how he looks at you all doe-eyed and regardful even when you have nothing to say, how he remembers your breakfast order every single day despite having trouble with his own, how your number is the only other emergency contact in his phone besides his mom who hasn’t called him back once. Hell, you’ve even been friends long enough to earn an alligator emoji beside your name. What a rarity.

Just friends. That’s all it could and should be.

Steven thinks you’d never date a bloke like him. Marc is sold on the idea that you have feelings for Steven, in which the tension, he states, is painfully and terribly obvious. It’s difficult to watch, even from that other dimension. And Khonshu, well, that guy just thinks that the three of you are all bloody idiots.

You try to push down the odd fluttering of your stomach when Steven opens the door to your car for you. He always does. You’re used to the chivalry, the old-fashioned kindness, but something about how he’s doing it tonight — hand hovering over the small of your back, then over your head as you dip into the driver’s seat while he watches you intently, wrinkles smoothing over his tan skin and eyes softening.

You look up at him before he shuts your door. “Tea at mine?”

“Only if I get to make it this time.”

You scoff in offense, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he comes around to the passenger side then buckles himself in. “What was wrong last time?”

“Honestly, Y/N?”

“Yes, honestly!” You slightly turn up the radio, raising your brows at Steven as he immediately changes the station.

He sputters through a chuckle before he can even finish his sentence. “Tasted absolutely rubbish, I tell you!”

“Piss off!”

Abruptly, you both laugh heartily at that, shoulders bouncing as Steven recalls the memory of how awful it not only felt in his mouth, but how awful the brew looked in general. He finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from your face. Unable to stop replaying your sweet giggle that he drew out of you over and over again, and how his name falls from you like a bubbly chant as you reach over the console and slap his arm. Unable to stop his fingers from twitching against his thigh because he just wants nothing but to reach out and tuck that annoying wisp of hair behind your ear and tell you how much you truly mean to him.

The moonlight looks pretty on you.

Steven likes the comfort of your flat more than his own. There’s something remarkable about seeing a bed without ankle restraints and chains, or having sand stuck to the soles of his feet as he pads around the kitchen for once. Just you, him, an ugly red sofa, and the mess of unfinished canvases on your floor. Your lips twitch when he reaches around to help you get something off of the top shelf in your cupboard, his large palm gently pressing against your upper back when he pulls away to hand you a porcelain cup.

You pour from the teapot. Steven adds an acceptable amount of milk. One long sip. Sigh of relief. Another sip. Then, smile at each other behind your delicate cups.

Like clockwork.

His kind voice feels warmer than the tea in your hands. “I enjoyed today.” Steven admits, leaning back against the counter and crossing his ankles as he speaks into his cup.

You study the sincere tenderness in his dark irises. “I did too.” For a moment, the silence is nice. It’s comforting. You’re a safe haven, even as he fidgets nervously, drumming his fingers against the cool surface as you reluctantly look away from each other. Yet the longer you linger in the quiet, the louder the thoughts in your mind get. Your pinched voice comes out rushed and unsure. “Are you still seeing that therapist?” Steven tilts his head, unable to recognize your tone.

“Seeing her? What do you mean?”

“Like, um, the sessions and stuff.” You chuckle softly, waving a dismissive hand at that with widening eyes. “Not in — in that way. I mean, are you?”

Why is she asking?

“Oh, goodness. No. Absolutely not.” Steven‘s dark eyebrows shoot upwards. His hold on the porcelain teacup tightens, knuckles tensing. “Why’s that?”

You blink rapidly. “Just wondering.”

“We weren’t compatible. Professionally.” He sends you a close-lipped smile. It’s demure, and for some reason, nostalgic. “She had this — this big, caged bird in the room with us. Like a bloody parrot or something.” Then, he shrugs, eyes darting across the room with what seems to be an amused smirk as if you’re supposed to understand this implied sort of inside joke. “Wasn’t very soothing. Probably gonna find someone else in the time being, you know, hopefully with a… nicer therapy animal. Preferably one that doesn’t repeat everything that I say.” You nod slowly, taking another sip while he clears his throat. “And you? How’s your project coming along, dear?”

You snort. “Haven’t even drawn a single thing.” Your shoulders deflate as you sigh dramatically. “Due in a week, not a single idea in mind, canvas still as empty as ever.”

“You’d think it would be easy to find a model. Plenty of nudists in London.”

“Yeah, well, none of them want to be painted.”

“Then they must be intimidated.”

A tiny clink fills the air when you set the cup of tea onto the table behind you, arms crossing over your chest as you tuck your hands by your hips. The flat feels chilly beneath the illumination of the kitchen lamp. Steven feels too far away. But at the same time, he’s here. Here, in the tiny room, by the stove, dark circles beneath his lower lashes like he hasn’t slept in years, muscles straining against his jacket.

“And why would they be intimidated?”

If Khonshu could swallow him whole, this would be the perfect time for it. If Marc wanted to take the body, he’d let him. But the alters stay out of it, and for once, Steven longs for their interference. He can’t escape the way you stare at him, innocently chewing on your bottom lip as you await his response patiently. You don’t prod, just let time pass. Steven doesn’t know which is worse. The fridge rumbles. The shower next door shuts off. The cars outside whizz by. The moon peeks out from the blinds. There’s a wailing siren in the distance, but nothing is louder than the heartbeat drumming against your chest as Steven swipes a wet thumb over his mouth and gazes out the cracked window above your sink.

“Because — well, you’re a talented painter. You’re good, good at what you do and you — you’re intentional.” He locks eyes with you in the midst of his ramblings. “You’re purposeful in how you study people, how you look at them, memorizing every flaw and every detail between. You capture beauty, um, that — that I can’t even see and I don’t know how…” He lets out a nervous laugh, jaw clenching under the weight of gritted teeth. “I don’t know how anyone can just sit there and watch you paint without melting on the spot.”

Keep going.

“Steven…”

“You intimidate because you’re beautiful. And beauty makes people nervous, Y/N.” He clasps a hand over his heart, not because the words strike him deeply, but to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

You collect your weight from the table, using your heel to slowly push yourself towards Steven and stand in front of him. You curiously toe at his white sock with your own, avoiding his gaze as you uncross your arms from your chest and entangle them behind your back with a frown.

“Do I intimidate you?”

Khonshu isn’t even in the kitchen anymore, and Marc is speechless. He can’t even watch.

At first, Steven’s voice comes out as small. And had you not been watching the parting of his lips, it easily could’ve been mistaken as the wind knocking against the walls. “Yes.”

“Is it because you think I’m pretty?”

“I think you’re more than that.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I am.”

Steven chuckles, shaking his head. His pupils are heavily dilated, darker than normal. “Trust me, you are.”

“Prove it.” You pick a stray thread off of his shirt, goosebumps erupting across his soft skin as your cold fingertips leave him. His eyes follow the motion before they flicker back to your face. “Sit on that sofa and let me paint you.” Steven can’t pinpoint the emotions behind your words. Close to playful. Far from joking. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious, but you’re grasping at paintbrushes with a glowing smile and quickly tying an apron around your waist that leaves him blushing shamelessly.

“You do not want to paint me.” He awkwardly huffs out, raising his hands at you before you’re pouting at him. “Y/N, it would just be a waste of canvas.”

“And why would I not wanna paint you?”

You pull your hair up into a ponytail, ignoring how Steven’s gaze trails up your exposed arms and the curve of your shoulders. You inhale deeply, and just from the way your throat flexes in the shadows, Steven suddenly brings himself to sit on the mass of pillows atop of the velvet couch. He watches you drag an easel out from your closet, placing it right by the footrest and the swiveling stool across from him. There’s a cart filled with discarded jars of scotch, tubes of different paint mediums and a wooden palette marked with an array of clashing colors beside you, an attest to the acrylic staining the Persian rug beneath your feet.

“Because I’m just me. Just Steven.”

Your eyes pop out from over the canvas.

“Well, I think ‘just Steven’ is perfect.”

He winces, lines creasing together on his forehead. “So what do I do now? Just — just pose, or…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, teeth making indents on his bottom lip. “Do I smile? What do — what do your models usually do?”

“Well, most of the time, they’re usually half-naked and tend to be as still as a statue.”

“Oh.”

You peer back at him again, gaze full of sincerity and concern as he self-consciously situates his position on the couch. “But you don’t need to follow the naked part. Just the latter, okay?”

“Alrighty then.”

He can feel the warmth of your smile radiating even from six feet away. “Relax your jaw. Don’t look so scared, the more natural the better.”

His pupils dart around the room, taking in your flat as if it’s the first time he’s been here. He can’t look at you. He can’t. Not when you’re concentrating on him like that, scouring the details of his features, the lines and moles that mark his face, the exhaustion, surveying the slump of his spine like that was meant to be beautiful to you.

Would you capture all his flaws and blemishes then turn them into compliments?

“I told you I’m intimidated.” Steven quips, squaring his shoulders when he sees your paintbrush take the first glide across the blank canvas.

“And I told you that there’s nothing to be intimidated about.”

“You know, I quite hate it when you get down on yourself like that.” He glares at you with a heavy shrug. Even when he’s clearly upset at you, Steven has a certain calmness to him.

He’s the striking resemblance of lightning without the explosiveness of thunder.

You don’t say anything, just swirl a mixture of colors onto the battered palette as you return back to the painting. He can see your tongue prodding against the inside of your cheek, rumination coating your mind in the same manner that hues of beige, black and pink coat his portrait. Steven lets the silence talk. He lets you bask in the quiescence for the sake of your art, for the sake of peace and his embarrassing desire to get this over with. But at the same time, he doesn’t want this to end.

Sure, he hates the fleeting eye contact. But come tomorrow, you won’t be staring at him like this — won’t smile at him with such tenderness and intention, won’t let your gaze wander for longer than a best friend would. Come tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast together while an ABBA record echoes from the living room, then you’re driving him to work with morning road rage and leaving for a nine a.m. lecture as if domesticity didn’t have an effect on you like it did on Steven.

There, you won’t study him like he’s the most interesting creature on the planet. But come tomorrow, he’ll continue to read you like you’re the rarest text of Egyptian lore.

“You intimidate me too, you know.”

Could you hear the cogs in his brain? Was this an answer to all of his speculations? Curiously, Steven turns his feet towards you. His ears perk up, full brows raising at your unanticipated statement. “What?”

“Yeah.” You sigh out tiredly.

“Now why would I do that?”

This time, your face is completely blocked by the easel. You make it purposeful so he can’t discern your expression, even as the brush moves in slow and heavy strokes against the canvas.

“I suppose for the same reason you find me intimidating.“

The sound of wet paint dabs onto the surface and drowns out your shallow breaths in the midst of Steven’s surprise.

“You find me… pretty?”

The scoff at the end of his question makes you cringe. Maybe you’ve said too much. Maybe you’ve stepped a line, or maybe he thinks this is all too odd.

Your lips flutter upwards solemnly as you repeat his exact words from earlier.

“I think you’re more than that.”

His heart could absolutely burst from his chest right now. He’s helplessly pinching at the bridge of his nose, unsure where to put his hands and why his hair suddenly feels so flat against his head. The couch beneath him is stiff, uncomfortable against his arse as he realizes that he’s been sitting in the same spot for too long. And now, Khonshu is simply leaning over your shoulder to look at the easel, thrumming with critique and amusement as the God towers over your hunched frame on the stool.

“Damn it.” Steven groans, placing a fist over his chest as he fidgets erratically. His eyes narrow, lips pursing together as he tries to blink back the chaos in his mind and fights off the urge to hand the reins to Marc. “God, I think I’m having a panic attack right now.”

“What?” You immediately place your brush down, peeking around the side of the canvas as Steven tries to even out his breathing. The stool nearly clatters to the floor when you stand and take long strides to his aid with wide eyes. “Do you need some air? I can — I can open a window, or — water? Water would be good?” He nods feverishly, tearing his gaze away from you and directing it to the stained carpet. You rush over to the sink, flicking on the tap and clumsily filling up a mug that Steven had given you from the gift shop. “Okay. Here, here.”

The dinosaur pun on the front isn’t so funny anymore when water sloshes over the rim as you hand it to him. He takes loud gulps as you cup your hand below his chin and catch the excess from the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to — are you okay? What happened back there?”

You called me pretty, he wants to say. You don’t think I’m awful-looking, he wants to say. You think that I’m worth a second glance and worth all those lingering stares that I thought were parts of my imagination, he wants to say.

But instead, he saves those remarks for another time, and settles on one that seems fitting for the moment.

“I got intimidated.”

And you laugh. It’s brief and small, yet large enough to mend the brokenness of Steven’s haywiring brain when you set his mug down on the footrest and look down at him from where he sits awkwardly on your couch. The overhead light creates an unconventional halo behind your crown of hair, your shadow embracing the sunken essence of Steven’s face as he quietly admires you.

You send him a lopsided smile, dimples creating crescent moons around your lips and the bulb of your nose as anxious fingers twitch at your sides. “I’m no Venus.”

“Goddess or planet?”

He draws another chuckle out of you.

“Goddess, I think.”

“Well, Y/N, gods and goddesses are fairly overrated anyways.”

You bite your lip. “And if I’m a planet, then what does that make you?”

Steven lets his stare drop from your face, curls dropping against the shine of his forehead as he dusts away the lint on his pants. You study his distracted form, leg brushing against his bent knees as your stance hovers over him. He sighs shakily at the sensation, but then your fingers shift to wrap around the roughened hands that are interlocked together in his lap, thumbs hesitantly ghosting over his knuckles with a shyness he’s never seen on you.

The notion causes him to ever-so-slightly lift his head. Those big, brown eyes meet yours in the humming of your living room, and the hand that’s wrapped around his own slowly travels up to the underside of his jaw. You can feel his muscles move beneath your gentle touch when his warm cheek leans into your palm, staining his skin with paint.

“Must make me the idiot who sits in the observatory all day, all night, watching in awe through a telescope.” He closes his eyes when your fingers trace his skin, shifting higher and higher until you languidly card your nails through his dark curls. His head tilts back submissively with the soft action, nose pointing up at you as bliss falls upon his features. “Sounds a bit creepy now that I say it out loud.”

“You know people say that Venus is hellish, right?”

His eyelids flutter open, long lashes tickling you. “You’re pretty hellish to me.”

“I’m offended.”

“Don’t be.” He whispers, resting his hand against your outer thigh.

Both of your heads follow the motion, as if his body had betrayed what he was trying so hard not to do — touch you, feel your heat against his, let his touch wander where his mind shouldn’t. But he can’t rewind time, and he certainly can’t stop how his palm stretches over your upper leg until it rests upon your hip.

“Steven…” You stroke his cheek with amorous yearning, smudging the space underneath his eye with a shade of pastel pink.

“Don’t — don’t say my name like that, love. Please, don’t.” Air escapes from his nostrils, his words fall from his lips in a longing tone laced with subtle desperation. But nothing is subtle anymore. Not with how he looks up at you like you’re the brightest star in the universe, staring at you like how you stare at famous masterpieces in a museum or even the works of art that never get noticed, but when they are, everything just makes sense. “You say it like…”

Now this all makes sense.

“Say it like what?”

“As if it’s more than my — more than just a bloody name.” Steven’s eyebrows furrow deeply, yet somehow he looks softer.

“More than just Steven with a V?” He laughs at that, a deep rumble that vibrates through his belly and throat as his eyes never leave yours. “Hey, I like saying your name.”

Your fingers against his bottom lip bring him back to this painless reality, and the tension isn’t so unbearable when you stain his sun-kissed skin blue in the dull light above the sofa.

“No… not that.” Both of your hands cup his cheeks, ears tucked into the spaces between your curling digits as you caress his chin with your thumbs. Your pupils lull him into hypnosis, and he finds himself unable to stop gazing at the constellations in your irises. “You say it as if you like me.”

Fucking hell, Steven.

His hands tighten around your hips, anchoring you.

“I do like you.”

“No, like — like more…”

“More than a friend?”

“Yeah.” His blinks grow rapidly while his face contorts into something of shock and perplexity, teeth on display as he shoots you a panicked look. “Do you?”

“Do I? Steven, I’ve…” An exhausted chuckle racks through you.

A pathetic noise of protest bubbles out of him when your palms leave his jaw. The cold isn’t so welcoming, and neither is the rest of your flat when you turn your back on him to tousle your hair with pent-up frustration. Meanwhile, Khonshu lingers in the hallways and curiously sorts through your vintage records. Marc wants nothing to do with this and resorts to plugging his ears.

Steven, here and now, is alone — alone with you and a giant, undeniable problem with the word ‘FEELINGS’ stamped right on top of it. He’s been decent about how to deal with emotions. He knows where his heart is, what makes his brain light up and what grows butterflies in his stomach. And even when you pace the room in worrisome, dizzying circles, all of the above outweighs the anxiety that shelters his bones.

“Y/N, dear, will you please sit down?” You don’t listen. He allows you two more laps around the couch and footrest until he beckons to you again. “Y/N.” Another two, then Steven himself is trailing behind your haste steps. “Y/N, what is the matter with you?” He takes the liberty of grabbing your wrist, pulling you back before you can escape once again. He squeezes your arm. Once, twice, till he understands that you’re fully listening. “Stop it, you.”

Normally, he’s the one running. But something about the way you look at him makes him want to stay, something about how your lips part and how you roll your bottom lip between your teeth then let it bounce back to its natural position makes him all hazy-eyed and helpless when your own eyes flicker to his mouth. You don’t know where to look, yet you strive to take in every single detail of him because you’ve never stood this close to one another.

You’re breathless, while his chest rises and falls steadily. You’re stepping on Steven’s toes, but he doesn’t mind. The hand around your wrist travels up your elbow, keeping you anchored when his other one does the same to your opposite arm. “Stop.” He whispers, warm breath fanning over your face as he shakes his head at you.

“You stop.” Your eyes gravitate to his mouth again, plump lips pouting with temptation as you subconsciously take a step closer towards each other.

Does he want this as much as you do?

His knuckles run along your cheek and your droopy eyelids grow heavy at the tender feeling. Steven’s fingers find that annoying wisp of hair from earlier, and he takes it upon himself to tuck it behind your ear. You try to stifle a moan when his nails card along your scalp, mirroring your gesture from before. But a whimper eases its way out of you, followed by a shaky sigh when your voice denounces you. His movement stills for a moment, but then both of his hands are cupping your face and his forehead is pressing against yours in a manner that is so indescribably intimate, you can’t even believe it’s real.

“You’re so pretty.”

There’s that desperate whisper again.

Your mouth reaches for his. You can feel him holding you by the back of your neck, lips unmoving and lacking confidence against yours. It’s a short kiss, nothing too heated, but when you try to pull away through mumbling apologies, he can’t help but grab you by the chin and bring you back to him for seconds.

You gasp into his mouth, the button of his nose resting against your cheek when you regain your self-control and hold onto his shoulders for leverage. “I’m sorry.” You blurt out.

“No, no,” He kisses you again, pupils wide and hands grasping at your belly when realization washes over. “Forgive me, I don’t — I didn’t mean to—“

“You didn’t mean to kiss me?” You smirk. The teasing grin is immediately wiped off of your features when Steven pulls you closer and tighter, almost as if you’d slip away from him anytime soon. “Are you going to do it again?”

“I think I want to, unless you don’t want me to, Y/N.”

“Of course I want you to. I want you, Steven.”

He chuckles in disbelief. “You do?”

“Well, I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

He gets lost in your eyes for the millionth time tonight. His accent draws out thick and frustrated when he finds the courage to pull your lips back onto his.

“Oh, fuck it.”

You moan instantly when his fingers undo your ponytail and tangle through your hair, flawed palms grabbing at each other’s clothing like you hadn’t felt the touch of someone else in ages — like you hadn’t felt Steven touch you in a fashion that is so sexual, so passionate and needy as if he’s been needing you all his life.

You kiss down his jaw, reveling in the soft sighing that he casts against your ear when you near his throat. He pinches himself when your mouth latches onto that sweet spot by his shoulder. It’s real. You’re real, with your hot tongue against his neck, with your chapstick molding him into shea butter and beeswax, with your paint-stained fingers dancing across the hem of his jacket like a tease. It’s real when his arms wrap around your frame, and your back immediately arches in response to his embrace while he ponders the skin beneath your shirt.

“You can touch me.” You whisper against his mouth with swollen lips and nudging noses. He sighs at the consensual phrase, coffee-colored eyes never once leaving the comfort of yours. “S’okay, Steven.”

“Are — are you sure?”

“I am.”

The couch creaks beneath him when he reaches over and gingerly holds you by the jaw, thumbing at your earlobe with hopeless adoration. It feels like two teenagers kissing each other for the first time. Awkward tangled limbs. Noses accidentally bumping and twitchy eyelashes poking at sensitive flesh. But it feels so natural, especially when your body reacts to Steven’s affections as if it has always known him.

He kisses you. A lot.

And he kisses you some more until you’re practically sliding off the couch and resorting to becoming labyrinths of desperation on your rug.

Your shirt rides up as Steven drags a large palm over your ribs, tracing the bone beneath your titillating skin. His head rests on your stomach, lips pecking the area around your belly button and down your hip bone until you’re eager for his mouth again. “You’re unreal, Y/N.” He groans in pleasure when you tug on his hair, smiling when you roll on top of him and straddle his lap. “Two years of my life I’ve spent pining after you.”

You giggle, “Try three. I win, yeah?”

“Oh, so now it’s a competition?”

“I’m just saying maybe you’ve been Venus all along.”

He smirks playfully, shrugging from where he lays on the floor. “I think we both know I prefer ancient Egypt over ancient Rome.”

“Planet.” You breathe out, fighting off the urge to close your eyes when his hands finally make contact with your lower back. “The planet, not the goddess.”

Steven’s arm extends upwards, pushing your hair away from your face when you look down at him with a dreamy gaze.

“Goddamnit, you’re so pretty.” You sigh in content at the praise. “My Venus.”

The pet name nearly makes you melt.

No artist in the world could replicate the masterpiece of your skin against his. No artist could etch every detail of you and depict it in a manner so accurate or perfect — every mole, scar, freckle and fold as if you were carved from Venus’ hip at birth. No painting could hold the same beauty of Steven nervously taking your shirt off, unable to capture the quiet chuckles when your head gets caught in the fabric. Venus’ figure can’t compare to Steven’s tawny chest, faint abs rippling under your nails and lips as you kiss your way up to his pecs.

Surrounded by pools of each other’s clothes, your burning bodies lay beside one another as sensual messes on the floor, rutting against each other gently and needily as Steven hikes your leg over his hip. You grind your mound against his crotch, gasping into his mouth when he holds you there.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He remarks, gripping onto your waist before he suddenly looks to you for guidance. “I-I really… fuck, I really do want you.”

His touch is featherweight, flightless but not even close to fleeting when he takes the time to voyage the muscled wings of your back.

“In what way?”

He exhales shakily, wetting his lips. “All of them.” You tuck your head under his chin after pressing a brief kiss to his temple. His voice rumbles against your body. The richness of his accent drops to a deeper octave when you reply in a high-pitched moan, hips grinding onto his front when his fingers find the waistband of your underwear. “Teach me how to take care of you, love.”

“Touch me. Just touch me like you won’t ever stop.” Steven studies the desperation in your glassy eyes and nods softly, stroking his finger on either side of your cheek. Yet, past the swirls of loving lust in his expression, you recognize that something’s bothering him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” He says almost too quickly. “Yeah, I am. Are you? I just, um…” He laughs sheepishly, stroking the side of your head. “I’ve never done this before.”

“You haven’t?”

“I never… got to that point, really, with anyone.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” You shift closer to him, resting your forehead against his as you look at him through your lashes, “I’ve never had someone inside me.” And Steven moans. Loud, deep, desperate. You would’ve clenched your thighs together had Steven not hoisted your leg higher over his hip. “I’ve done stuff, but… never been fucked. Never been…” You sigh blissfully when his fingers trace the curve of your buttock. “… properly filled up by anyone.”

“You’re going to k-kill me, love.” He glances down at your clothed core, fingers begging to reach for you.

“I’m sorry, I know. I know.” You kiss him, earning a needy groan from the man. “Go on then, touch me, baby.”

“Tell me if I’m doing it wrong. Tell me if it’s not what you want.”

Agonizingly slow, his digits dip down the waistband of your panties, cotton rubbing against the back of his hand as he curls his fingertips towards your cunt. The gentle notion makes you gasp once more, especially when he spreads your folds apart to expose the hood of your clit. His middle finger circles leisurely over the sensitive nub with feathery touches.

“Steven, fuck… yeah, that’s it.”

His voice hitches in his throat as he gauges your reaction. “Oh, love, you’re — oh, you’re just dripping, aren’t you?” You guide his hand further, the pads of his fingers dragging your slick against your wet entrance. “Y/N, you gorgeous, gorgeous thing.”

“Feels good.” You scratch at his shoulders shamelessly, rocking on the heel of his hand for more friction. Your eagerness spurs Steven further and so he increases the pressure, skimming his fingers over your folds and pressing ever-so-tantalizingly near your hole before he returns back to your clit. “Tease.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing and you’re calling me a tease?” He smirks proudly, repeating the gesture until he’s drawing a moan out of you each time. The outline of his dick protrudes against his boxers, and only then does he realize how hard he is for you. “It’s good, yeah?”

You’ve never seen him so smug.

Yet you like it, and you can’t fucking help but want more of it.

“Shit, yeah. Yeah, it’s — it’s… oh, Steven.”

Your sentence is interrupted midway when he pushes his finger inside you, slow and deep enough to rip a whine right out of your throat from the stretching sensation. He inhales loudly, eyes fixating on your mouth when you hopelessly sigh against his neck. You shift your knee higher up his leg, giving him more access to finger you. He hums at your facial expressions, mirroring them when you suckle dark marks just beneath his jaw.

It brings an innocent smile to his face thinking how he’ll have to show up to work tomorrow with remnants of you all over him.

Steven mouths at your shoulder, leaving glistening patches of saliva in the wake of his fumbling kisses. You rock against the heel of his palm, mewling as he drags his fingers against your walls and he muffles his own pleasure against your skin.

“You’re so perfect.” He groans, fucking his digits in and out of you. The noises that leave your cunt and his throat are sinful, but nothing beats the image of you resting your head on his arm, his hand cupping your mound while he fingers you on the floor impatiently. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re making quite the mess, aren’t you, dovey? God, your moans are so fucking sweet to listen to.”

“Steven, your fingers...” You watch his wrist snap against you, juices squelching around him. You nearly sob from the intensity. “You get me so wet.”

“That’s good, Y/N. That’s good. I love pleasing you, you know that.” You clamp down onto the crook of his neck, teeth stifling your wrecked moans as he curls his middle and ring finger against that spongy spot inside you. His touch is generous, obviously eager to satisfy you, and accompanied by his weathered hands, you can feel your orgasm approaching soon. “Can I tell you something?”

Your voice comes out broken, mind fuzzy as your cunt tightens around him. “What?”

“Those… those two years, I…” He moans in tandem with you when you nibble at his bottom lip. “I, fuck, it wasn’t just pining, Y/N.”

“I have n-no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think I — I think I’m in love with you. And not just because I’m…“ He laughs. “… inside you right now, but I think I’ve been in love with you from the moment you spoke to me and — and fuck, being able to hold you like this only confirms it.”

And just like that, you come undone all over his thick fingers.

“Oh, fuck! S-Steven!”

You cry out into his chest, bite marks tattering his skin as you hold him tight and gracelessly grind against him until you lose control over your climax. Your body shivers from your orgasm, gradually and slowly, which usually never happens from anyone else’s hands other than your own. Steven’s confession hangs heavily in the air even as he coaxes you through your high, fingers scissoring carefully in and out of you.

Soft praises leave him in whispers, and he shares his affection for you with gentle pecks to your temples.

A couple minutes pass by until you’re able to catch your breath, or at least, compose yourself.

“Was I imagining that or did you just say you love me?” You look up at him with big eyes, voice hushed and fearful as he wipes the sweat away from your brow with his thumb.

He gulps, lashes fluttering dreamily when you cup his cheek with a shaky hand. “S’real.”

“Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“More than best friends?”

Steven adores the childish glimmer of curiosity in your innocent gaze. He chuckles quietly, nodding. “Best friends included and more.”

“I love you, best friends and more.” You rub your nose against his before your stare drifts to his swollen lips. “But the next time you confess shit like that, don’t do it when you’re fingering me.”

He flashes you a weak smile. “Alrighty, miss.”

Although, Steven is unprepared for when you untangle yourself from his arms and settle between his thighs, nails raking over his muscled calves and mouth grazing over the bulging front of his boxers.

Your next words simultaneously fill and take the air from his lungs.

“Do it when you have your cock inside me.”

Marc nearly takes control of the body himself at that exact moment, and Steven immediately thinks he’s going to pass out when you tug his boxers down his hips to free his aching prick. His reddened tip is already leaking with pre-cum, thighs jolting beneath your slow and open-mouthed kisses to his skin.

“You really are hellish.” He whines when you wrap your middle and ring finger along the middle of his cock, lips suctioning around the base. A long moan drawls from his throat as he rests his head back against the rug, eyes screwing shut when you run your warm tongue along a prominent vein.

“Am not.” You chuckle, pressing a chaste kiss to the head.

He stifles a groan, forearm coming up to cover his eyes as you take just the tip of him into your mouth. “Oh, my god, Y/N. F-Fuck, yes.” You hum in amusement, the back of your throat sending the vibrations right to his cock. “That’s good. Really fucking good. Oh, fuck.”

You grin widely, but remain careful not to use any teeth on him. “You’re very needy, you know that? But, oh, you’re just doing so well for me, aren’t you?”

The mocking tone of your phrases make him squirm. He’s gripping onto a fistful of the Persian rug, wrinkling it with scarred knuckles.

“Please.”

“Please?”

“More. Touch me more.” He shakes his head at you, chin pressing against his chest as he stares down at you with a defeated expression. “Please, love.”

You’d be lying if you say that the way he looks at you doesn’t make you wet. You’re practically a puddle of desire, and Steven is melting jelly in your hands when your head quickly bobs down his thick length.

He’s sputtering out a string of swear words, cursing more than you’ve ever heard him in your years of friendship. You can tell he’s trying his best not to cum prematurely, not that you’d care anyways, but with how his soft stomach ripples and flexes with each deliberate swirl of your textured tongue, you know he’s struggling.

And just when you’re about to give him that moment of release, you feel Steven pulling you back by the hair. Disappointment flashes over his features briefly when your mouth leaves him, but the boyish longing on his face quickly shifts into attentiveness when he catches a glimpse of the confused glint in your eyes.

“Everything alright?” Your hands find his face once more. It becomes so natural in this new, sudden dynamic together — touching him, feeling him against you like you’ve always wanted. “Was it too much?”

“No, no, it was amazing.” He assures you, fingers pushing back the matted hair on your cheeks. “You’re amazing. I just don’t — I don’t wanna finish and leave you unsatisfied.”

“You could never leave me unsatisfied, silly.” You bite your lip feverishly, thumb stroking his chin for comfort.

He smiles. The tension of the conversation seems far from innocent now, especially when a near-indiscernible side of Steven appears as the words leave him confidently:

“I want to be your first, though. The first man inside you.”

“Steven…”

“Only if you want, Y/N. Whatever you say goes, no matter what.” His hands grab yours, sweat sticking to each other’s skin. “It would be nice to have you be my first. And me as yours. I mean, it sounds so juvenile to want no one except you, but it’s the truth.” He lazily kisses across your knuckles, paving his way around the tendons with his lips. “I want to have sex with you, and I want to remember it.”

“Is he here right now?” Steven freezes and his jaw goes slack at the question. He can tell you’re nothing but concerned once your eyebrows knit together deeply. “Is Marc here?”

It’s the first time you’ve asked about Marc Spector without Steven bringing him up on his own account.

“Why? Did you want — do you want him instead?”

“No! No, I don’t. Not for this.” You smile with brief panic, tracing the bridge of Steven’s nose to put his worries to rest. His frown gradually fades with the soothing motion. “I just want to make sure it’s you. Everything we do here, I want it to be with you.” You ruffle his hair teasingly once he sits up. “No offense to Marc, by the way.”

Steven chuckles, “I’ll give him your regards.”

“Well, he has yet to talk to me.” You shrug casually, grabbing onto his biceps as he pulls you onto his lap.

“He’s just shy.” He grins against your lips. His palm travels up the swell of your breast until he’s softly kneading the ball of flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Your breathing quickens, eyes fixating on his hardened erection. “Shyer than you?”

“Oh, incredibly.” Steven jokes, shaking his head.

He can just imagine Marc’s downturned expression of disbelief.

“Tell him…” You nip at his earlobe, moaning against his cheek. “… that I’m already spoken for.”

“Are you now?” He’s abrupty cut off by his own gasp when your arm reaches behind and you wrap a fist around his dick, pumping him slowly in your firm grasp. “Rude. I was talking.”

“Were you? I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

She thinks she’s so funny, doesn’t she?

“Stop a-apologizing and…” He hisses when you twist your hand, grazing the pad of your finger over his slit. “F-Fuck, Y/N.”

“There we go…” You grind against his tip, pre-cum smearing across your folds. “What do you want?”

“Want you to use me, darling. However you’d like.”

“So eager for me, Steven.” You breathe into his mouth, noses nudging against each other as you line his cock up with your entrance. “You haven’t even fucked me and yet you’re practically begging for more.”

“God, you talk so filthy for someone with such a gorgeous face, yeah?”

“I guess I truly am hellish.”

And yet nothing about this feels like hell.

Especially once you sink down onto his length, the heavy tip of his cock ready to stretch you out. It’s only slightly painful — a brief sting, the awkward shifting of bones so that Steven can sit back and have your thighs on either side of him, the echoing of your quiet whimpers beneath the soft light as you take every inch of him into your core. Your slick spreads onto his thighs and balls, wetness coating his digit as he instantly reaches for your clit like its become second nature.

“You — you’re really tight.” He groans, looking down at where your cunt swallows him whole.

You laugh wryly, whimpering when his hips subconsciously rut into you. “And you’re really big.”

Steven tilts his head back and looks up at you with a hazy smile, raising your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. For a split second, you think it’s Marc — the darkness in his eyes, the sudden dominance dripping from his tone, but it’s a big mistake on your part to second-guess him once he finally thrusts into you.

“Say it again, love.”

It’s completely Steven — his wandering hands, grasping and grabbing at flesh, grounding you, feeling every crevice and fold of your body like it’s a sanctuary that he’s been dying to enter.

“You’re so big.” Your mouth gapes, eyes widening when you submit to his touch and let him take you. “Oh, fuck. Steven, please.”

“Yeah?” He grunts gruffly into your neck, teeth marking the virginal expanse of your throat. “You like it this way? My lovely Y/N enjoys getting fucked on the floor of her own flat?”

“I love it.” You meet his strokes halfway, tits bouncing in his face as he leans forward on his knees and wraps your legs behind his back. “Oh, s-shit. Mmm, right there — right there feels so — so good, Steven. Fuck!”

Steven bites down onto your shoulder when he lays you down onto the rug, cock burying itself deeper inside your cunt while he puts his weight on top of your body. His whiny moans are muffled, gasps and slaps filling the ambience of the messy living room. You’re sure that the neighbors below your studio can feel every force of Steven’s hips pounding into you — hard, slow and full.

You scratch down his spine, red marks drawing angry lines across his tanned muscles. Juices are running down your inner thighs and cream coats his cock as he fucks you needily. While his skin is stained with paint, your skin is littered with his stinging handprints. He spreads his palms over your ass, carefully maneuvering you up and down his length as you sob into his chest.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re everything I could’ve dreamed of.” Steven pants out incoherently, nipping at your jawline. “This pretty cunt… jus’ wrapped ‘round me. I could get used to this, you know that?”

Your throat feels raw from your mewling, the exhausted and desperate need to cum written all over your features. “You can have me anyday and anytime. I want you to…” You swallow roughly. “… fill me up, Steven. Take me whenever.” Your tone grows hushed, breathy whispers ghosting over the shell of his ear. “I wanna see how drunk you can get off of my pussy.”

“Holy f-fuck.”

You laugh together, even during the heated moment. “You love it when I talk dirty, don’t you?”

“I just love you. Anything you say, anything you do, it just absolutely riles me up.” His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling you to him till your foreheads are touching and your naked bodies beg even harder for release. “God, dovey. You’re a perfect work of art.

“Mmm, I-I’m close.” You gasp out, nails digging into his shoulder blades when his cock begins to hit that unforgivable spot inside you.

Steven takes a moment to pull out of you, running himself against your folds until he dives right back in. His tip prods and prods at your walls, your wetness leaving his prick damp with each deep stroke.

“Fuck, Y/N. S’good, I can’t — oh, hell, I can’t think anymore.” He whines, arms resting on either side of your head as he pounds into you.

“Stevie.”

He shushes you tenderly, thumb sliding across the corners of your eyes to wipe away the brimming tears. “I know, darling. I know. I’ll get you there, promise.” His breath fans out across your lips, and you take advantage of your proximity to reel him in for another drowning kiss.

His thrusts grow sloppy, hips losing their graceful rhythm as he continues to snap into you. He beckons your name like it’s a song on loop, while your tiny whimpers turn into loud wanton groans of lust. He pulls you back into an embrace and sits up again, hooking his arms under your knees so that they’re bent and your ass hovers over his lap.

The position leaves you vulnerable when you hold onto his torso for dear life, fluids making a mess between your bodies.

“I love you.” You croak out, opening your eyes to gaze into Steven’s dilated pupils. “Best friends and more.”

“And I love you.” You moan in tandem, feeling yourselves near your orgasm. “My sweet, perfect Venus.”

You clench around his hard cock, cumming intensely on his length as he cries against your neck. His hands are everywhere, but all you can focus on is the way your cunt contracts around him, tugging and milking him till he discovers his own high. This time, Steven doesn’t shy away from moaning and allows himself those deserved minutes of relief as you ride out your orgasms together.

“Oh, my god.”

Momentarily, neither you or Steven move from the rug. He keeps you on his cock, too scared to face the emptiness that’ll come once you leave him. But it seems that you share the same sentiment, sighing against his bicep as you draw circles on the back of his hand.

He decides to break the comfortable silence.

“I do okay?”

Steven can feel your smile form against his skin, eyes sleepy and droopy from where your head lays. “You did so good.”

“You wanna get cleaned up?”

“Please.”

With ease, Steven helps you off of him, already missing the comfort and warmth of your core as you both shakily rise to your feet. For a split second, it’s awkward — your palms shift to cup your naked breasts, while his limbs fumble to fetch you a quilt from the couch till he realizes his own indecency.

But then you share another bubbly laugh and offer the other half of your quilt to Steven, who doesn’t hesitate to cozy up beside you and have you lead one another to the bathroom. You take him under your clothed wing, ankles bumping together clumsily as he finds the light by the sink and quietly flicks it on.

He unravels himself from the quilt first and sits by the edge of your bathtub while he waits for the water to heat up. You watch him lovingly from the doorframe, tired and hair matted, but nevertheless, Steven thinks you look ravishing.

“Come on now.” The Londoner makes grabby hands towards you, taking the blanket from your hickey-covered frame and folding it neatly by the bathroom counter.

You sit with him in the tub — back to his chest, his back to the tile, your hands interwoven amongst the soapy suds and lavender, chamomile-scented bubbles.

A soft sigh. A gentle kiss to the top of your head. An adoring chuckle as your lover brushes his nose against your ear and tells you stories of how the sun loved the moon.

Like clockwork.

Steven is everywhere. On your lips, the scent that wafts through your closet, your bedsheets and the Persian rug in your living room, in how you make your tea, in what mug you drink water out of, what songs you play to start your morning.

But most of all, he lingers in the unfinished painting on your easel. Jaw sharp and nose prominent, eyes youthful yet wise, lips pillowy and inviting.

He is in the shades of brown, pastel pinks and the added hue of orange from how his marked skin glistens in candlelight.

He is your Venus.

Not the goddess, but the planet.

Either way, neither of them are able to truly equate your love for him.

6K notes · View notes

brokeneveweeb · 2 years

Text

Too Good To Be True | Steven Grant x F!Reader

| Gif — @raggedy-dxctor |

Word Count — 6k

Summary — Steven Grant has a crush on an event coordinator at the museum who is too pretty. With no place to stay for the night, he invites her to spend the night at his place.

Warnings — Graphic depictions of s*x, mast*rbation, virgin!Steven, sub!Steven, slight dom!reader, female!reader, unprotected s*x, oral (female and male receiving). Let me know if I missed anything!

18+ Only! Minors DNI

A/N — Steven is basically the biggest simp for you in this lmao

With a dazed glossiness within the dark eyes of Steven Grant, he absentmindedly listened to the blurred words falling from your rosy lips. His chin was pressed against the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the counter as you discussed the timetable of the gala occurring in less than two weeks. Your hand was clutched on the plastic clipboard, intently scribbling your erratic thoughts and circling possible concerns with a black pen. The employees of the museum orbited around you as you assigned everyone to temporary positions. With each name announced, you wrote a small check beside the inscriptions. Truth be told, Steven wasn’t entirely certain what the purpose of the gala was. He remembered you mentioning the theme—Egyptian Moonlight—and his brain mushed together as he heard the softness of your voice. He presumed the purpose was to raise money for another exhibit he overheard Donna stressing over.

“Steven Grant,” His name danced across your tongue like golden honey and the sound warmed through him. Your soft eyes moved from the clipboard and found his dazzled gaze. He was distracted with the sheen of your hair and didn’t notice you were patiently waiting for a response. You paused for a moment and raised an eyebrow as he didn’t acknowledge the inquisitive glance. Someone beside him nudged him and he snapped from his daydream. He straightened and glanced around him. His tan cheeks flushed as he realized everyone was expecting a response. Returning his frantic gaze to you, he warily smiled. The embarrassment burned through him like a wildfire. Your eyes remained on him for a brief moment, your lips curving into an amused smile. “Steven Grant,” You repeated, “Tour guide.” He blinked and an overwhelming thrill-filled him as the title ‘Tour Guide’ processed through his head.

You continued onward with your presentation and the small smile reserved for him seared through him. Sure, there was a portion of him completely mortified from being caught with a lovestruck expression, but you didn’t scrunch your nose with glaringly obvious aversion. You moved through the swarm of employees and concluded the presentation with an enthusiastic expression.

The swarm dispersed and their indistinct conversations disappeared. The moonlight from the night sky poured into the panels of windows. He hadn’t known this much time had disappeared during your presentation. Your voice reverberated through the vast museum marble walls as you spoke with some of the museum's official representatives. You were an illustrious event coordinator and he, admittedly, searched your name on his computer months prior when you were planning the grand opening of an exhibit. He scrolled through the online collections of your other exhibitions and festivals. There were a large variety of themes, some were sultry and oozed with sensual darkness and there were some illuminated with bright colors and flashing lights. Regardless of the theme or requirements, you designed venues perfectly. He always stared at the photographs with you in them, smiling brightly standing beside politicians and celebrities with extravagant gowns. Ever since then, you were recruited by the museum repeatedly and each gala was better than the previous one.

Steven gathered his belongings and his thoughts wandered to meaningless things like if he should purchase Gus another brand of fish food and if he was going to take the bus on time because there was construction happening a few blocks away from his apartment. He was so emersed in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed you emerge from around the corner. A gasp escaped your lips as he collided roughly with you and your collection of messily stacked papers slipped from your grasp and onto the floor, your lukewarm coffee spilling onto your clothes.

Steven was overridden with remorse as your exhausted expression drooped as you glanced at the dark brown stains seeping through the fabric. Your eyes closed as you exhaled a small and frustrated breath. A string of apologies fell from his mouth as he dropped to the floor, reaching for the scattered papers. You mimicked him and released a feeble curse as your forehead smacked against his. Steven’s cheeks burned as he reached for your forehead before quickly retracting his arm. “Shit, I am so sorry!” His voice was shaky as he muttered another string of incoherent apologies.

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn’t refrain from chuckling airily as your hand brushed against the skin beside your hairline. His face loomed across from you, his eyebrows furrowing with concern as his gaze flickered across your kneeling form. He was going to apologize for the twentieth time when you positioned your delicate hand on his that was gathering the papers. “Don’t worry, it’s my fault.” You reassured with an embarrassed smile. He froze when the warmth of your hand shrouded his much larger one. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Much to his dismay, you pulled your hand away and began restacking the papers. He snapped from his daze and began doing the same, occasionally sneaking a glance at the concepts you constructed. Unsurprisingly, they were exceptionally drawn.

With the color-coordinated papers messily stacked, he pushed himself from the floor and brushed his hands on his thighs before extending his hand outward. His breathing hitched as you peered upward at him through the thick rim of your eyelashes, your eyes glittering from the romantic lighting of the exhibition. Your knees were pressed against the marble floor, his crotch mere inches away from the softness of your lips and his knees nearly buckled at the spectacle.

You interlaced your fingers with him, groaning as you straightened and wiped the palms of your hands on your sheer leggings. “No, it was my fault! I’m a knob and wasn’t paying attention—” The fusion of your florid fragrance and the syrupy coffee filled his nose as you dismissed his frantic concerns with a wave of your hand.

You brushed the loose strands of hair away from your face. “Steven, it’s fine.” You pulled your phone from your pocket. “I was pissed because my roommate is having someone over and asked me to give them the night. So I was looking for a hotel around here and didn’t even see where I was going.” Your frustration seeped into your words as you spoke, the weariness oozed from you as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry. I’m ranting, aren’t I?”

Steven shook his head and clutched the strap of his bag until his knuckles blanched. “No worries, I don’t mind.” His eyebrows scrunched together with uncertainty. “You know my name?” He glanced down at the breast pocket of his jacket, confirming the nametag wasn’t there. He thought you didn’t acknowledge anything other than your clipboard as you strolled through the corridors of the museum, triple-checking everything was adequate for the gala. Steven was one of the several people awe-struck every time you stepped inside the same room as him.

You chuckled as you shoved the stack of papers inside your large bag. “Of course, I know your name.” You spoke as if the suggestion of you not knowing his name was ridiculous. “You were one of the first people I met when I was recruited by the museum.”

No, that couldn’t have been accurate. He would’ve remembered the interaction because if there was a time when you spoke with him and him only he would have seared the interaction deep inside his memories. He scratched the nape of his neck. “I’m afraid I don’t remember that.”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You said, readjusting your bag’s strap. “You were far too invested in guiding a group throughout the museum. I joined the group and I don’t think I’ve ever learned that much Egyptian mythology from an actual tour guide here.” You continued onward, motioning for him to follow beside you. “You were my first choice to be the banquet’s tour guide.”

He attempted to disregard how the assertive statement made his stomach flutter. As you both neared the exit of the museum, you muttered some farewells to a few of the staff members. The light breeze of the night chilled you as you descended the large stairs. “Steven, do you know of any decent hotels around the area?” You had briefly searched on your phone, but they were all rated extremely low.

He glanced around the desolate streets. “I know some, but they’re a bit rubbish, honestly.”

Ask her, Steven. Invite her over.

“You could save some money and spend the night at my place. It’s not too far from here and I won’t charge you.” He suggested apprehensively as he fiddled with the strap of his bag. He glanced around, intentionally avoiding your inquisitive gaze. You raised an eyebrow and chuckled at his awkwardness. “I really hope that wasn’t as creepy as I thought it sounded.” He added after a moment.

He followed you as you continued your stroll. “Most blokes invite me to dinner first.”

His eyes widened with mortification. “N-No, that’s not what I meant!” He hadn’t even noticed your teasing tone and lighthearted expression as he shook his head frantically. This was exactly why he typically ignored Marc's suggestions and ideas. “You would sleep on the bed, of course! I’d take the floor and I would never—“

You squeezed his shoulder and giggled. “Steven, I’m teasing you,” You reassured with a lovely smile. “I’d actually greatly appreciate that. I can drive us to your place?”

He nodded, his cheeks blushing. “Lead the way.”

Steven fumbled for his apartment’s keys as you stood beside him, glancing around the rickety corridor. Muffled voices were seeping from the closed doors of the other tenants, music echoed from the streets below and the hinges of the elevator squeaked the double doors eventually closed. He unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing you a wide entrance inside. The floorboards creaked as you casually walked inside and your doe-eyes eyes glanced at the cluttered mess with subtle allure. He noticed your wandering eyes and scratched the nape of his neck. “If I had known I was going to have company, I would’ve cleaned.” He said nervously. As you continued onward, you glimpsed over the disarray of his disordered books. Most, if not all, were about Egyptian mythology and the pages were folded and the spines were cracked.

You peered over your shoulder and smiled as he attempted to organize some of the piles of papers and opened books. “No worries, my place isn’t any better.” You admitted, your eyes moving across the passages of the large textbooks. The paragraphs were underlined and highlighted, some were circled and crossed out with a thin line. His erratic movements across the room stopped, his hand carrying a white trash bag as he tossed his takeout from the night before. “My kitchen is covered with color theory and different fabrics for the table covers. It’s much worse than this, believe me.”

Your lighthearted words reassured him, easing the tenseness of his shoulders as collected the last of his trash. He nodded even though he knew you couldn’t see him as you ventured further inside his apartment. “I can’t make coffee very well, but I can make you some tea?” He was already fumbling through his cabinet of unorganized boxes of tea, some of the packets strewn around. The stovetop clicked and the blue flames flickered as he brought a silver kettle from the washed pile of dishes.

You closed the book you were scanning and dawdled across the room. “That would be lovely,” The warmth of the flames gradually filled the kitchen. “Steven, do you mind if I borrow some clothes?” The question crashed through him like an icy wave. He whirled around and his nervous eyes glanced at the stained apparel. He didn’t remember you were soaked with chilly coffee, his thoughts were ransacked with the warmth of your skin as you stood beside him within the confines of the unstable elevator. He wasn’t entirely processing that you were standing between the fading walls of his cluttered apartment. This was something he thought of, an unrealistic daydream as he fiddled with a multi-colored Rubix cube at night. But here you were, staring at him with an unsure softness and leaning against his countertop.

“Of course!” He stumbled as he scampered across and pulled his dresser open, unfolding a freshly washed t-shirt. The fabric was much larger than your frame, but he didn’t think the size difference mattered much. “Can’t have you sleeping in your dirty clothes.” He yanked open another drawer and pulled out a soft pair of loose sweatpants. He closed both drawers and the kettle released a faint whistle. “In that incredibly tight dress.” He muttered to himself. Your dress was tight, a black turtleneck dress where the fabric ended mid-thigh and your sheer pantyhose exposed the smoothness of your legs. “I can make the tea and you can take a shower if you’d like? There are spare towels inside.”

Blatant relief colored your expression as he mentioned the shower. “I’ll be quick,” You declared and rushed to the opened door across the apartment. The door closed and he closed his eyes as he placed his blanched palms on the edge of the counter. You were inside his bathroom, undressing and allowing the warm water to splash against your bare skin, the fragrance of his soap was going to linger on your skin and within the strands of your wet hair. The hazed image of you scrubbing your breasts and the length of your legs with the suds of his soap were enough to have him struggling to regulate his hitched breathing. His jeans tightened as he continued to think of you touching the peaks of your breasts, your small fingers moving within the tightness between your thighs.

Come on, Steven. She’s in there. Naked.

Steven closed his eyes tighter as Marc’s voice echoed through his frantic mind. He was convinced Marc appeared from the darkness of his head with the sole purpose to make him keep his composure around you practically impossible. Every time you stepped inside the museum, he emerged from the shadows and highlighted the tightness of your clothes, the way your breasts bounced as you rushed throughout the corridors, and your glittering eyes as you smiled when speaking with the museum officials. You had dropped your pen once and Marc, though Steven would never admit it, he also stared as you leaned forward and grabbed the pen from the floor, your panties peeking from beneath your skirt. Steven couldn’t move from behind the counter for a few minutes as Marc continuously remarked about ripping the thin fabric—

If you’re not gonna make a move, might as well rub one out before she comes out.

He shuddered as his thoughts brimmed with you and his cock hardened beneath his uncomfortable jeans. He brought his palm onto the throbbing bulge, a small whimper falling from his mouth as he pressed down. There was a pulse of dull pleasure as he rubbed himself over his clothes, drawing his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the threatening sounds. Steven mulled over the suggestion, wondering if you were going to open the bathroom door and see him frantically jerking himself over risque thoughts of you.

With a wavering breath, he fumbled for his buckle and unzipped himself, pushing the material of his briefs to his thighs. His hand wrapped around himself and there was dreary relief as he slowly pumped himself. You were merely a few feet away from him, a shower curtain and bathroom door preventing you from seeing his leaking cock wrapped by his shaky hand. He brought his palm to his mouth, his tongue gently licking his hand before he continued pulling and tugging. His moans seeped from his opened mouth, gentle breaths, and whiny whimpers as his other hand clenched around the corner of the counter. His hips jerked and he threw his head back, dragging his tongue against his bottom lip. His mind wandered to the image of your fingers sinking inside your tight pussy as the shower’s waterfall drenched your skin. He thought of the sweet moans you would make as he kissed the softness of your breasts, his tongue memorizing your taste as it flicked against your nipple. His rough hands would squeeze your ass tightly after sucking on your fingers, relishing the taste of your pussy as his tongue moved across your soaking fingers. He wanted you clenching around him as you pulled the curls of his hair, his name slipping from your flushed lips as he—

“Steven?”

His eyes snapped open as your voice tore through the thick air. There was a second where he thought of running from the kitchen to the hallway of the complex. He yanked his jeans from his thighs and a horrifying string of apologies escaped him. There was a searing humiliation burning through his veins as he struggled with the zipper. His zipper was stuck, the fabric of his briefs lodged between the metal. He couldn’t believe he allowed Marc to convince him this was something he could do. You were probably disgusted, going to resign his position as a tour guide, and he didn’t even want to think of all the remaining consequences of his actions.

He fumbled with his zipper as you slowly drew nearer. You stopped beside him, the warmth of your skin warming him as your eyes glanced at his unsteady hands. You tentatively grabbed his hand from his loosened buckle and his eyes opened, his eyebrows scrunching together with clear confusion. As his eyes fluttered open, he refrained from admiring you wearing his oversized t-shirt, the fabric drooped and flared at your thighs. Your hair was wet and he could already smell his body wash emitting from you. This certainly wasn’t helping his situation.

With large, calloused hand wrapped with yours, you brought his palm to your mouth and he gasped as your tongue moved across his skin. Your eyes closed momentarily as your tongue moved from his palm to the lengths of his fingers, slowly moving them inside the tenderness of your mouth. His eyes followed every assured movement of yours with flared pupils. With his fingers inside, you opened your eyes and sucked the remnants of him and—My God, you moaned. His knees buckled as the small, feminine sound hummed through you. Your eyes were dazed, siren-like as you pulled him from your mouth. “You taste so good,” He was painfully hard as your words processed through his empty mind. You unzipped the small portion he managed to do and he nearly knocked over the glass mugs on the counter as your hand touched his clothed cock. “Can I taste some more?”

Steven, you better say—

“God, yes.” The words escaped his reddened lips before he could even think of what was happening. Your hand was palming him through his briefs, his fingers were slick with your mouth, and your pretty mouth was looming closer to his. Your gentle lips touched his, brushing against them teasingly as you squeezed him. He released a breathy moan and you closed the distance, relishing the flavor of his lips and his moans. He closed his eyes, unsure of how to move or of where to touch. His hands apprehensively moved to your cheekbones, your face held by his timid grasp. His thoughts were erratic as he eventually moved against you, tasting your lips and hesitantly caressing your tongue. He was kissing you and you were kissing him. He was kissing you, entangling his fingers in your hair as you touched his cock. This was unbelievable. This couldn’t actually be happening. This was too good to be true.

He almost whined as you pulled away from him. Your forehead rested against his, his nose brushing against yours as your flushed lips curved into a small smile. He almost begged for your mouth to return to his, but when you lowered to your knees, the air left his lungs. Your corrupting gaze remained on him as you pressed small pecks onto his hip bones, then onto his outline. He’d never done this before, he had definitely thought about this more times he could count, but as you stared at him through the rim of your lashes like you were desperate to taste him, he knew he wasn’t going to last very long. You pulled the waistband of his briefs and the cold air nipped at him. Your eyes widened as his cock emerged from his clothes and your collected expression faltered as he twitched achingly. You wrapped your hand around the base of him and his hips jerked at the sudden contact. The heat of your hand was different than his own, entirely different yet exceedingly better. Your tongue erotically licked the tip and he moaned, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter. Your eyes gleamed with a hypnotic eagerness and he knew he was done for.

You dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, sucking on the peak to taste the pre-cum seeping from him. You opened your mouth and brought as much of him as you could manage, hollowing your cheeks. The moans he let out were pathetic whines, throwing his head back your mouth moved around him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He forced himself to stare back down at you, to keep his eyes open to watch the spectacle of his cock disappearing inside your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes as you gagged and he shouldn’t have enjoyed the sound as much as he did. With wavering hands, he wiped the cascading tears from your cheekbones and there was a small portion of him that didn’t like seeing you cry, but the majority and remaining portion of him savored the sight of you on your knees, gagging as the saliva dribbled down your mouth. “Love, I-I’m going to—” Your tongue swirled around his tip and your hand fondled his balls while the other gripped whatever of him couldn’t fit inside your mouth. “I-I don’t want to…Not yet, but—God, that’s so fucking hot.”

His hands tangled your hair as he gently pulled and the feeling erupted a faint moan from you. You pulled away from him and as the crashing waves of pleasure stopped, Steven could finally breathe properly and wasn’t seeing stars. You wiped the sides of your mouth and looked up at him with hungry eyes. “You can come more than once, can’t you?” His eyes widened, breathing shakily as you teasingly licked his cock, still caressing his balls and he wasn’t sure he could even stand anymore.

“I don’t know,” He admitted, his eyes fluttering closed as you sucked the tip of him again. This was torture, agonizingly lustful torture he would give anything to experience again. “I haven’t done this…with anyone before.” He almost didn’t want to say the bashful words. He was worried you were going to view him differently, but you kissed the base of him and smiled reassuringly.

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Your voice was low, silk-like as you dragged your fingernails across his thighs. He shuddered and wanted nothing more than to hear you gag on him again. “Looks like I’m not stopping until you cum again.” Your eyes were determined, ravenous for him and he nearly came at the sight of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen famished for him. His cock vanished inside your mouth and Steven moaned, high-pitched and completely wretched.

Holy shit, she can’t be real. She’s some kind of sex demon or—Oh, fuck!

Steven groaned as he came inside your mouth, his cum filling your mouth and he couldn’t even think of feeling embarrassed at the pathetic sounds leaving his mouth. His body shook and twitched, he lost control of himself and tugged on your hair, his eyes closing tightly he jerked his hips against your mouth again and again. He was fucking your mouth, relishing the sound of your gags, and couldn’t even feel guilty. “Shit, shit, shit.” He moaned the words over and over again in breathless whispers and your name was mixed in between.

As his movements slowed, you pulled away from him and wiped the corners of your mouth, sucking whatever dripped from your mouth. His chest was heaving, sweat lining his hairline as you stood from the floor. Your lips were swollen, flushed, and wet and he could’ve came again with how you were staring at him. This wasn’t real, you couldn’t have just swallowed his cum and seemed eager to do it again. Marc was right, you were unreal. “Are you going to be a good boy and fuck me, Steven?” He wasn’t aware a simple sentence could physically devastate someone, but those words and the filthy nickname had him crumbling.

Steven was speechless as you grabbed his loose hand and pulled him away from the kitchen. He didn’t protest or resist, merely obliged as you dragged him to his unmade bed. With a slight nudge, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched you with wide eyes. Across from him, you removed the t-shirt slowly. Your slow movements were dreadful, and when your bare breasts were mere inches away from his watering mouth, his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. His hands reached outward, desperate to squeeze and pinch, but he drew back. “P-please, can I touch you?” His hardened cock twitched as his eyes traveled over your naked body.

Touch her, Steven. She’s waiting for you.

You loomed closer, running your fingers through the mess of curls. He leaned into your touch. “You can touch me wherever.” He nodded eagerly and his hands reached for your breasts, squeezing the mounds and a boyish smile rose on his lips. Tentatively, he softly pinched your nipples and froze when you gasped, fearing he had hurt you somehow. However, when he looked up at you, your expression was plastered with unfiltered bliss. His hands cautiously caressed your stomach, your hips, then your thighs. He was memorizing the way you felt, he didn’t want to forget the texture of your skin when you inevitably departed from his room tomorrow morning. His fingers stopped above your pussy and his eyes glittered with elation. He glanced upward at you again, silently asking for permission with an innocent gaze. You nodded frantically.

His finger moved across the bottom of your pussy and his eyes widened as your slickness covered his fingertip. He examined the evidence of your dripping arousal before bringing his finger to his mouth. He licked it, then sucked, whimpering softly as your taste filled his mouth. He reluctantly pulled his digit from his lips and mimicked his earlier action. His finger dipped inside you and the obscene moan seeping from your mouth was nearly pornographic. His movements started as gradual as he experimented with the way you tightened. He pumped faster, exploring what movements of his made you moan louder and your body twitch. He inserted another finger and the sounds you were making were enough to have him desperate for some relief. “You are quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.” He muttered, his breath tickling your skin.

Steven retracted his hand from you and you whined at the loss. He dragged his hand across your slit, your juices pooling on his palm. With his other hand, he moved your leg over his shoulder and you gripped his arm to steady yourself. The sudden movement shocked you, it was unlike him to make such a bold move, but you weren’t going to complain. His mouth devoured your pussy and with one hand coated with your juices, he jerked himself with your arousal and his other empty hand pinched and played with your nipple. Steven didn’t really know what he was doing but he had watched enough videos to have an understanding of it, and the way you tugged on his hair and moaned his name, he thought he was doing a decent job.

You glanced down at him touching his cock with your juices, his hand moving quickly and the slickness made indecent sounds. God, he was jerking off with your arousal and devouring you like he was a starving man. He needed your clit on his tongue, he needed your cum filling his mouth, he needed you to unravel because of him.

His hand moved across your stomach, his calloused hands caressing your hip before he inserted two of his fingers inside your pussy. A strangled gasp escaped you as he pumped his fingers while flicking his tongue across your clit, gently sucking as you throbbed on his fingers. You tightened your grasp on his messy hair as he curled his digits. Your breaths fastened as the overwhelming pleasure intensified. “Steven, I’m going to cum,” Your voice was breathless, barely above a whisper as he continued to consume you. “Fuck, don’t stop. Just like that, just like that.” Thankfully, he listened to your pleas and his movements and pace didn’t falter.

His confidence soared as you moaned his name like desperate prayers, nearly begging with dwelling tears as your body moved against him. You tasted like the forbidden fruit, dangerously intoxicating and he would have fallen to his knees every night and begged whoever answered prayers to taste you again. You clenched around his fingers and his name was the only thought filling your mind as you unraveled around him. He was relentless as he proceeded to flick against your clit. You weakly pushed him away and when he didn’t stop, you pushed him slightly harder. He reluctantly pulled away and his doe-eyes peered heavenward, a shy smile rose. “You make the prettiest sounds.” His voice was hoarse and his lips were blushing pink, covered with your cum as he licked them.

With a hazy smile, you removed your thigh from his shoulder and his hand movement slowed to a complete stop. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, discarding the fabric aside as he kicked away his jeans and briefs. Your dazed eyes traveled over him, the flexing muscles of his arms and abs. He was handsome, something written from a romance novel, and yet here he was, looking away from your intense gaze and cowering away. You lightly gripped his chin and forced him to look at you. “You are beautiful,” The words were laced with blatant adoration and his expression brightened, his dark eyes gleaming with bliss. He didn’t want to admit how much that affected him; hearing the woman he liked tell him he was beautiful. “You hear me, Steven Grant? You are handsome and you are more than enough.” He nodded and there was a sheen gleaming in his gaze. He almost cried at the reassurance and you lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “I need you to say it. Use your words.”

“I am more than enough.” His voice was air-like, desperate for your approval. The words were foreign, tasted strange against his tongue, but the surge of self-assurance was internally welcomed by him

You smiled and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Good boy,” You whispered and he would have bruised his knees falling to the floor to hear you call him that again. You leaned toward him, nibbling on his earlobe. You smirked as he exhaled shakily. “Do you want to fuck me, Steven Grant?” He eagerly nodded, grasping onto your hips as you kissed his neck, licking the small marks coloring his tan skin. “Get on the bed.”

He almost stumbled over his own feet as he hurried to the softness of his bed, swallowing the lump lodged within his throat as you crawled toward him—a ravenous predator stalking her helpless prey. Such a beautiful sight.

You touched him and goosebumps scattered across him. Your mouth stopped inches away from his cock and he could feel the warmth of your breath caress his member. “Tell me, Steven. Do you think about me often when you touch yourself?” He couldn’t even answer your question as you spit onto his cock and moved forward, placing your thighs on both sides of his hips. His tip brushed against the slit of your pussy and his body jolted. Your face looked inches away from his and the look in your eyes said a million words. You were waiting for approval, waiting for him to give you a confirmation. He whispered a weak ‘please’ and you obliged, lowering yourself onto him.

His head crashed against his bed frame as he blissfully stretched you. You clenched around him, gorgeously warm and tight and the moans escaping his rosy lips filled the thick air. But you didn’t move and he opened his eyes inquisitively. “I asked you a question,” You said firmly and you didn’t need to finish the sentence for him to know you weren’t moving until he answered.

“Almost every night since I’ve met you,” He answered timidly. He couldn’t even concentrate on his thoughts as you grinded on him. He watched the way your body flowed against him, your feminine moans beautifully filling his ears. “I can’t help myself. Look at you,” You rode him as he kissed your exposed neck, grabbing your breasts with both hands. He thought of you constantly whenever he tightened his hand around his cock. He came with your name on his tongue in the shower, when he couldn't sleep, and there was one time at work in a supply closet when you smiled at him while wearing a low-cut blouse. “You’re bloody gorgeous and you wear those tight, short skirts and—Fuck, just like that. Ride me just like that. Yes, yes, yes.”

His voice was rough, his breaths shattering as you and your breasts bounced right in front of his face. “Tell me I’m your good boy, p-please, baby.” This was pathetic, he knew, but the praise was an addiction he didn’t know he had until it fell from your cum-soaked lips. He licked your nipples, sucking like you were the answer to his starvation. He was so needy, desperate for you.

You encircled your small hand around his neck and he groaned. “Beg for it.” Was all you moaned as you sprung on him. The sound of your skin slapping against his and the wetness dripping from your pussy was fucking filthy and he was never going to forget it. This was permanently seared into his mind.

His hand gripped your hair. “Please, please, baby. I promise I’ll be good and—shit, you feel so good.” His bed creaked and he was certain his neighbors were going to complain tomorrow, but he didn’t care. “Tell me I’m your good boy, please. P-please, don’t stop.”

Your thighs burned but the pleasure was mind-blowing as his cock filled you, and you were certain there were going to be finger-shaped bruises on your hips and ass. “Fuck, you’re my good boy,” You whined, “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Fucking me so good, Steven.”

His movements grew sloppy and fastened, he was roughly pounding into you and each thrust tore the breath from your lungs. “Y-yes, say my name. Say my name, baby. Say it.” He growled through clenched teeth and you couldn’t even see through the stars he was giving you. You mumbled his name loosely and you sounded drunk as you blindly repeated his name. “Can I cum? Please let me cum, please let me cum.”

Steven was begging to cum and you wordlessly nodded, already nearing your own release. “Open your mouth.” He didn’t hesitate and you dragged your fingers across his tongue, using his saliva to rub your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum—“

Steven moaned as he guided your hips and he filled your tight pussy with his cum. He thought coming in your mouth was the best feeling he’d experienced, but this was otherwordly. He couldn’t think and the pleasure didn’t stop as you came seconds after. You tightened around him and basically milked his cock until he was certain you were trying to ruin him.

He savored the sensation of him filling you with his cum, the way your body twitched and your chest heaved as you reveled in your glowing high.

Composing yourselves, you pushed your hair away and kissed him as you pulled him out of you. He groaned into the kiss and you smiled as he sighed happily. He was utterly content and nothing could ruin his mood as you laid beside him, wrapping your leg over his and pressed your head against his chest. He glanced down at you and you looked ethereal as you breathed peacefully against his chest, your eyes closed with a faint smile. He leaned and kissed your forehead. “I don’t suppose I can take you out on a proper date now?”

You laughed and opened your relaxed eyes. “Thought you’d never ask.” You dragged your finger across his skin in random patterns. He almost pinched himself, somewhat convinced this hadn’t been real. You looked so pretty with the moonlight pouring into his room.

“Work is going to be a lot more fun now.”

5K notes · View notes