#venom! reader

⭐️ 𝓟𝓲𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓸𝓽 ⭐️

For starters, things go as they do in game! Poor, lovesick Pierrot is saved from an altercation. The only difference here is that it isn't because of missing people. That's been going on for a while now, thanks to you. I suppose some people just really don't like clowns, huh?

You're fully aware of the stalking from the moment it begins. The symbiote immediately senses that you're being watched from outside the cafe. Plus, due to your diet, you know exactly what that rose is painted with from the moment you smell the blood on it.

Unfortunately for Pierrot and his nightly visits, symbiotes don’t require sleep.

"Ah my dear, You..." WHAM SMACK POW

He's immediately shoved away and grabbed by tendrils before being lifted up as a black, viscous liquid rapidly envelops you. He watches in a mix of shock and faint fear as you transform. Where you previously stood, now a 7ft tall monster with sharp teeth stands. You don’t look pleased, to say the least.

First of all- he’s frozen with the realization that he’s been caught breaking into your home. He’s definitely not making a good impression. Gulp.

Secondly, his dearest is like him! Ah, how perfect! You really are meant to be, aren’t you?

After some reluctantly accepted apologies, he’s set down carefully. He’s in awe. His dear, able to to blend in so perfectly with humans, yet so dangerous. A perfect predator. He didn’t suspect a thing!

He was originally interested because you were a kind human, but he’s not so shallow as to change his mind because you aren’t what he expected.

Someone taller than even the Doctor? With those sharp teeth and that long tongue? Oh his thoughts are running wild. This man is 100 shades of red just thinking about hand holding, but this? It’s all too much for his poor soul.

He’s quick to invite you to come see him at the circus the next night, perhaps to even join him for dinner! You could technically get a black ticket now, but ah, he loves seeing you use his red ticket.

Still reluctant to reveal his own appearance, but gives in quickly if you ask. Afterall, his dearest wouldn’t be scared of him.

Extras!

❤️ Doctor

- so many questions. Be prepared because you aren’t leaving this tent for hours.

- so you don’t actually need human flesh? Just a certain compound that happens to be found in human brains? And you substitute it with chocolate? Interesting…

- Don’t let this man see your healing factor. He’s gonna have 60 experiments planned before you can call anyone to calm him down.

💜 Jester

- Well… that’s an improvement, certainly.

- Before, he was suspicious and guarded. He didn’t understand how both Pierrot and Harlequin could go get themselves caught up in a human so easily. Now? It’s… still not ideal but certainly not as bad as he had feared.

- Truthfully, he finds it unnerving how seamlessly you blend in as a human.

- Now he has no excuse for when Pierrot inevitably insists you come along with them when they leave town. Fantastic. You just had to exist, didn’t you?

🖌️ Ticket Taker

- huh. He thought his own human illusions were good, but this?

- Advocates for you to join them when Pierrot suggests it… only because he realizes that if you join, he can send you to run errands instead of going out himself.

- he’s curious, certainly, but he has better things to focus on. So long as you don’t eat them out of fools, he couldn’t care less.

🐍 Harlequin

- Immediately lays on the flirting, but keeps his distance a bit better. Flirting with a random human to piss off Pierrot is much different than hitting on a monster that very well looks capable of ripping his head off.

- His thoughts are running wild. He’s thinking about that tongue for the next couple nights to say the least. And those muscles… and that shapeshifting…

- You just keep getting more interesting, don’t you? He’s teasing Pierrot even more now.

They got the studio for cheap since the city couldn’t bulldoze the whole building, citing it a historical part of London. And the owner couldn’t possibly just let it stay there without getting some money out of the old building. So the bloke keeps it teetering from getting a citation from the city whilst keeping it livable–ish.

The band keeps the place tidy, or tries to at least when the popcorn ceiling is starting to rain down on them whenever Yuri hits the drums hard enough for it to crumble down on them. There aren’t a lot of rats or roaches either, which is probably thanks to Ned spraying the whole place with bug spray whenever he sees a single fly inside.

Hobie likes the place, it’s their place, the one place where they can play as loud as they can without bothering anyone since the neighboring buildings lay empty too. Plus, they’ve made it their own themselves, the walls are painted in deep red, a colour they heavily debated on, but it didn’t matter in the end when they had to cover the walls with foam to make the recording sound better and more professional. Or at least as professional sounding as it could when they record the songs inside a crumbling building.

The studio is Hobie’s happy place, even when there’s no band practice they’d usually hang around, eating snacks while writing songs, and recently, movie nights. Today though, it doesn’t feel right. It feels eerie, like someone broke in, didn’t steal anything but moved all the furniture an inch away from its usual spot.

His senses strike from his chest down to his fingertips. It never failed him, so when he slowly walks around the place to find something, anything, that’s amiss, he finds that every single amp’s chord has been cut.

Hobie picks up a broken cord, head tilting at the sight of the lacerated wire, as if someone bit it, or chewed it up. Ned would freak out if he saw it, thinking that they have a rat problem.

The punk would think that too if it weren’t for the ominous looking black goo writhing on the floor beside the amp. It moves as if it’s alive. Hobie isn’t squeamish, but he finds himself grimacing at the sight of the mysterious goop.

When Hobie picks up a rag to try to wipe it away, the goo moves and dodges him at a speed that he never thought something so slimy could do.

“What the fuck?” He mutters to himself, goosebumps rising on his skin as he shivers in place. Standing up, he lifts his boot up, preparing to stomp on it. But before he could slam his boot against it, the goop slithers away quickly, prompting Hobie to run after it.

He never thought that he’d be sprinting after some mysterious goop around the halls of the dilapidated building when all he wanted to do is practice a song he has been writing.

“Fuck!” Hobie stumbles up the stairs that leads to the former green room as the wooden stairs creak under his weight.

As he straightens himself, he lifts his head up from how his boot sank into the floorboards, and towards the second floor, finding that the said goop is staring right at him. Or that’s what it looks like anyway as it’s now standing up on its goopy hind legs, almost taunting him.

“You little shitter.” Hobie bolts towards it as it scrambles to get away and slithers under the cracks of a closed door.

The door’s green paint is chipped to high heavens as various band stickers fade into the wood. He grips the doorknob, tries to open it, only for it to be locked. He specifically remembers that the room was never locked in the first place because they just use it as storage for their stuff that doesn’t fit their respective small flats. Like old couches that they don’t have the heart to get rid of, broken down wardrobes, out of season clothes, and Hobie’s equipment that he intends to repair that Yuri calls junk.

He presses his ear against the wood, hearing something rustling inside. Determined to find out what kind of sentient being just slithered away from him, Hobie lifts up his leg, kicking the door open with some force that the door breaks from its hinges as it now swings helplessly on the one remaining hinge.

Hobie steps onto the splintered wood, expecting a mass of black goop that looks like some alien creature, a stark contrast to the viridescent green paint of the room, only to find a shadowed form crouched in the corner, hands covering their ears.

A single yellow lamp shines on you, a spotlight as shadows dance along the green walls and dust bunnies on the floor.

The black goo snakes towards you, it reaches your skin and melds within you, sinking under your skin.

“Hello?” Taking a tentative step, Hobie approaches you carefully, like trying to approach a wounded doe. “You alright?”

You only hide against yourself, arms curled around your legs as you hide your face from him within your arms and the dark hood of your hoodie.

“You’re not in trouble,” he softly says, crouching down to face you worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s so loud, everything is so loud.” You mumble, muffled by your arm.

“I don’t hear anythin’,” he scrunches his nose as he looks around. There are discarded cans of peaches, and corned beef piled up in the corner, he then sees Ned’s old mattress under you, covered by Yuri’s old quilted blankets. It’s like a nest of the band’s old things, and he could even see a couple of his plaid jackets in the pile, and James’ gigantic teddy bear placed right at the foot of the bed.

You’ve been here for some time.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His voice lowers into a softer tone, head ducking down to try to get a good look at you. “My name’s Hobie Brown, what’s yours?”

“I can’t— it’s so loud.” Your nails dig into the shell of your ear as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“There’s nothin’—” he pauses, getting an idea. “I’ll be back.” Standing up with a groan, knees popping, he heads back downstairs, only this time he crawls on the ceiling around it lest he breaks the stairs some more.

Quickly grabbing a pair of noise cancelling headphones, Hobie heads back up. “‘m sure James wouldn’t mind.”

He sees you in the same place, in the same folded position as he crosses the distance towards you. “‘ere, this’ll help.”

You flinch when he moves closer, but when you peek out to look at him, you only see genuine concern and kindness through his russet eyes. So you let him put on the headphones gently on you after a beat.

“There,” his voice is muffled in your ears as he smiles gently at you. “Better?”

The ear piercing noise calms down as you take a deep breath. You nod, peeking over your arm as you regard him in your sights. Hobie is handsome, silver piercings dot along his face like stars that remind you of home, and his smile eases you, with the same kindness he showed you.

“I’m—” the static electricity ebbs through your body like a lightning strike as your body contorts angrily for a moment. It was brief, but the pain isn’t as it leaves you heaving in place.

Hobie’s eyes widened at the same black goop that turned into angry spikes when you glitched right in front of him. Suddenly everything just makes sense.

“You good, love?” Hobie tilts his head down to look at you. “Can you tell me where you’re from? I can help you get back home.”

The mere mention of home has your head lifting up from your bent knees. And you see Hobie’s eyes widen once again, only this time, a nervous grin replaces it.

“That isn’t a hoodie.” He mutters under his breath as he sees what he thought was a normal hood, but turns out it’s a huge maw with jagged teeth and lolling spiked tongue as your face is wedged inside it, as if keeping you warm.

“This is venom.” You utter softly, a hand reaching up its head as you give it a good scratch. The being seems to like it as it shuts its eyes in content. “Please don’t be scared, he doesn’t eat nice people. Usually.”

“Yeah, ‘m sure, love.” Hobie smiles lopsidedly as eyes open atop your head, white milky eyes that blink blearily at him, before narrowing suspiciously.

“No, venom, he’s a friend.” You say to yourself as you look up. The goop seems to be talking to you as Hobie is left in the dark. “No, you can’t eat him, he helped us.”

“Yeah, no, eatin’ please.” Hobie swallows thickly as he stretches his hand out to you. “I brought shawarma with me, are you hungry?”

“A little, but venom’s always hungry.” Venom nods along to your reply.

“‘m sure it’ll be enough for us.” Standing up, hand still outstretched, he smiles down at you. “It’s a bit stuffy in ‘ere, innit?”

“I’m not in trouble?” Brows folded together, you gaze at him curiously. “I’m sorry for messing up your room.”

“This isn’t my room, but it’s fine, no harm done, right?”

“Venom said, except for the wandering men with the heavy sticks.” You wince at your companion’s confession. “He got really hungry, sorry.”

“Well, that’s…” Chuckling, he watches you slide your palm atop his gently as he helps you stand up. “I think we’ll get along fine.”

You smile brightly, and the dusty and dim room seems to have lightened up from that alone.