a rock and their diamond ˚ ♡ ⋆。 venture + [bimbo] reader {hcs}
synopsis : venture with a dumb, bimbo-ish, sexy gf… i mean c’mon it’s already canon
—TW : some nsfw hcs , slight exhibitionism , reader is very suggestively a girl , big tits (ahh boo!!!)
art credits : leesam_23
“oh cool! i had a friend obsessed with archeology back in high school; she told me i was a libra!”
“you mean astrology…?” dr. ziegler raised her brow.
“um… i don’t think it had anything to do with space.”
that was the moment sloane cameron knew you were the one.
you’re ditzy, beauty, sexy, (and tall)—quite the opposite to your venturous partner. and most could describe you two as the ‘beauty and brains’.
venture was enraptured the very second they laid their eyes on you. talk about the star of the show; everyone’s attention was focused on you the moment you walked into that dig site.
you’re tiny pink dress that hugged the curve of your waist so tight—barely covering your ass and most definitely straining against your tits (not that sloane was looking…). your long legs and plush thighs that made the archeologist gulp. tall, elegant heels which only put you on more of a pedestal. and if people weren’t already drooling over your body, your face definitely topped the cake. you were gorgeous through and through. a doll.
and, yet, through all sloane’s nervousness, they could tell you looked a tad lost.
“hi! sloane cameron. are you looking for something?” they reached a hand out which you gladly shook; venture noticing your pretty, pink acrylics.
“yes! my daddy works in the medical tent—any idea where i could find it? sure doesn’t look like a fun camping trip though.”
sloane shook the last comment off, saying they’d show you where the tent is. although the digger was dusty and smelled like minerals, you decided to follow close beside them.
that’s where they introduced you to dr ziegler. “are you a doctor too?” you’d ask. “oh, gosh, no. i’m one of the archeologists working here.” and there, the infamous moment took place.
౨ৎ
venture refers to you as various different gemstones, which you love. their go-to’s being ‘opal’, ‘angel’ (short for angelite), and, of course, diamond—your favorite.
^ “almost done w these soil samples. then omw home opal! xo” sloane would reply with to your needy texts.
^ “what’d you want f’dinner, angel?” they’d ask, wrapping scarred arms around you from behind.
^ “you look as stunning as always, diamond.” watching you give a twirl to showcase your outfit for tonight—something always a little teasing and small… not that venture had any complaints.
sloane worked late hours, fully devoted to their passion. you would usually find them hunched over at the table. slim fingers pressing circles into their shoulders, massaging away the tension. your partner would sigh, leaning back before taking your hand and guiding you into their lap. they’d explain their most recent endeavor and you would listen… even though the information went into one ear and out the other.
“ya’ know?” you, in fact, did not know, but gave a supportive nod anyways. sloane snorted, planting calloused hands on the plush of your hips as you straddled their waist. god, they wanted nothing more than to kiss that oblivious look off your face.
speaking of a suggestive kiss, does it come as a surprise that sloane just can’t get enough of you?
their hands are always on you, one way or another—how could they not? so much to grab, so much to play with.
they’d kneed your supple thighs, pinching the fat in awe. and they’d mewl as if it was their own flesh.
sometimes, venture would sit atop you in bed—spending time poking and prodding every part of you like a new toy… not caring about your excessive squirming, stifling little moans.
god, your breasts were the best part. sloane would do anything to be near them at all times. alone, the archeologist fondled your tits, squeezing your nipples between their middle and index and watching them harden. if you were a tease, sloane must be a sadist.
with you being eye candy, there was, of course, a lot of attention drawn to you. some would simply admire from afar, while others took a more brave approach.
venture isn’t a very jealous type… i mean, that’s what they’ve always believed about themselves. yet, seeing men flock to you like moths to a light—it was… irritating.
there was no such thing as ‘innocent’ conversations or ‘harmless’ touches when it came to you; everything anyone did was quite obviously intentional. and somehow, the cherry on the cake was always the follow up question, “did you come here alone?”
and as the men would compliment your hair, and subtly look at your finger for a ring, sloane would interject.
well… if you count standing a few feet away with a hot, red face staring daggers into the men’s eyes as interjection… then, yes, sloane interjected. but, the real problem solver was you, oblivious you. you, who knew you were pretty hot, but didn’t count anyone’s intentions as scandalous.
so, you’d see your partner in the distance and your eyes would immediately light up, waving your hand to call them over. maybe that’s all sloane needed, because as soon as they see that look of adoration in your face, all that anger would subside. you were theirs, after all.
don’t think those men would be off the hook, however. venture would most definitely slide an arm around your waist as you walk away… maybe slightly grabbing the round of your ass with a sly smirk on their face.
you loved to surprise your partner with visits at their job. you never minded dirt and grime and it mostly seemed like it avoided you all together.
venture would be in the middle of a log, wiping beads of sweat off their hairline after a long dig. “excavation log dash 2-3-3, this is sloane cameron speaking—my team and i just discovered a fascinating—“ “baby!!” you ran up to the archeologist, practically jumping on them as you curled your arms around their neck.
sloane would be startled before turning around and giving you an equally tight hug. others whisper about how lucky their coworker is since sloane’s face reached right between your tits. and to think your partner hated the height difference (not in the moment).
“okay, guys, hold that thought! i’ll be back!” your partner would wave.
speaking of surprises, you’d always come home with rocks for sloane. standing in front of your partner with hands behind your back, “guess.” you’d giggle. every night, the surprise was no different, but venture would entertain your enthusiasm.
“hmm… let’s see… is it… a flower?” “nope!” “candy?” “nuh uh.” “a perfectly preserved dilophosaurus spine fossil with all discs in tact?!” you looked around, “uh… i don’t think so?” venture would sigh.
you open your hands, revealing a smooth, brown rock about the size of your palm. “it’s a rock!” you smiled wide and sloane’s cheeks tinted red from how cute you could be. “thank you, diamond! i love it.” you’d sit next to them on the couch, holding onto their arm. “i found it on the sidewalk. what kind of fossil do you think it is? maybe a dinosaur one?”
sloane would pat your head, trying to refrain from explaining to you that most fossils are dinosaurs… and that you wouldn’t find one on the side walk. “angel, i think it’s just a rock—a cool rock nonetheless!” and that satisfied you enough.
honorable mention, but venture definitely buys packs of fossil dig kits for kids you could get at walmart. they keep them at their work station for when you visit because you love to be included in whatever sloane is doing.
sloane works on grid maps in their tent with you by their side, scraping down compacted sand to find your prize. “i did it!” you put down your tiny mallet. “good job, opal! what’d you get?” you pout your lips confusingly, “another rock?” venture, tiredly, rubs your shoulder, “it’s a fossil, opal…” you’re lucky, though, because this leads to a make out session.
when you do have your steamy moments in venture’s tent, it’s always the most passionate. maybe it’s the adrenaline of being caught, or the shameful thought of someone hearing you, either way, it’s exhilarating.
sloane would have you propped up on the table, pushing important papers to the ground. needy hands groping the plush flesh of your hips and your dress hitched up above your ass. your tongue grazing their chipped tooth and fingers tangling in brown hair.
of course, sloane would kiss down your neck reaching the cleavage of your breasts; their hands pushing them together, making the tops spill over the very tight fabric.
of course, you’d ask a dumb question about what if someone walks in. but, your partner is already pussy drunk and is looking up at you from between your thighs, shushing you and asking if you’d squeeze their head before going back down.
it’s very common to get odd looks when you’re both out in public. as previously mentioned, you two look complete opposites. you, in a matching pink track suit, tube top pushing against your tits, low rise sweatpants showing off the tramp stamp plastered on your lower back, g string imprinting on your hips with a cute navel piercing to go with it. you always have your makeup done, sunglasses atop your hair, and pink platform flip-flops… and venture!
venture with their hair a mess, tired eyebags from rarely sleeping, chipped tooth, a ‘we rock!’ oversized t shirt, baggy shorts that went to their knees, and old sneakers. two people you would never think you’d see together, yet holding hands and sloane pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever they could.
and, yes, it’s a little discouraging knowing no one thinks you would ever be with someone like sloane cameron. it’s an insecurity the archeologist keeps in the back of their head. but, without fail, you’ve always introduced them as yours… and that makes any doubts fade away—knowing you hold your relationship with pride.
of course, a few months into dating, venture would make sure you didn’t actually think archeology was astrology. “opal, you do know that zodiac signs are not archeology, right?” they’d raise a brow. “no, silly. i’m not dumb!” you’d giggle and sloane would sigh in relief.
“he’s that murderer—that’s true crime!”
and for sloane, their heart skipped a beat…
yeah, you’re the one.
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