Work Text:
The weed candy bar lay heavy in Eddie’s left hand, nearly scared out of his palm by the rumble under his skin - and for the first time since their union, it wasn’t for the chocolate.
“Eddie?” He feels his skin purr, but not speak.
Weed stores were always bizarre, the ones in New York especially. Banners and posters of half naked women, bongs shaped like dildos next to real dildos, aphrodisiac drinks getting dusty and forgotten in an old Redbull fridge. Those rhino dick pills behind the counter. It toed the line between cheeky and downright pornographic depending on the store you went to. Now that weed and its accoutrements have all been made legal in the last few years, some dispensaries were sterile, modern, with faux plants climbing up the rafters, leather couches nobody seemed to sit on and neon signs to show how hip and cool weed was now. As if it ever hadn’t been well on its way to being some of the hottest commodity a tween could sink their teeth into for the past however many years.
Eddie had much felt the same. Chocolate and Weed. What an absolute combo? Two birds and one stone(r) wrapped up in a holographic, little rainbow packaging. Venom had been excited, so excited even, at the prospect of something new and chocolate, that he took Eddie’s legs to the nearest dispensary that the man had stored in the way back of his memory. He’d been to this place way before Venom, way before his own show, even before Annie.
So there they stood, a bar of Grandma Jane’s Chocolate slowly melting beyond the foil paper between Eddies finger and thumb because he stared at the stupid fucking poster for a little too long.
A pink-haired girl of questionable age, wrapped up in coils of dark goo, ripping and tearing at her school uniform of all things. Black tendrils snaking up her thighs, tentacles fondling her massive chest and pressing something serious against her blue and white stripes panties. It was tame for hentai, really. Not something Eddie would hang on his walls, or showcase to his humble customers whom just wanted to smoke up and go the fuck home, but, it somehow did fit the bill for sleazy-underground-weed-guy store. Eddie wasn’t even sure if this guy had the proper licensure, he just remembered this dude had some pretty serious chocolate - one that would tranquilize a horse after a bar and a half of this shit.
“Eddie?” The noise between his ears rumbled again.
“Y’all right?” Said the man at the counter at the same time.
Eddie shook his head and wobbled to the front, slapping down the bars of chocolate a little too hard on the glass.
“Sorry,” Eddie offered a sheepish grin.
The man at the register was far less sleazy than Eddie had remembered or pretended to remotely recognize. Just a clean-shaven white guy with no tattoos and way too blue eyes. A smile that’d kill a dentist.
“No worries,” he smiled back, “Fifty-three seventy-eight, please.”
Eddie closed his eyes and swore to the noise laughing just below his throat. Goodness, none of this was as he remembered.
Paying, he forgo’d the bag, shoving the candy into his jacket pocket and thrust his hood over his head. Rain pelted the asphalt and store windows. A beautiful walk home.
Now a third time, Venom called his name, “Eddie?” it almost begged.
“Yes?” Eddie grunted, popping in airpods - something new he was trying out to appear a little less insane. His image was nearly in the shitter, adding crazy to the mix wasn’t much help, but broken airpods were a start. The chocolate felt like a weight in his deep pockets. “What do you want?” Eddie asked.
“What was on the poster?”
Land mines. Eddie imagined land mines going off in his head with fireworks and screaming to set the mood.
“Porn,” Eddie settled for.
“Noooo,” Venom groaned back like a child. “We have seen porn. The grey movie was-“
“Fifty Shade of Grey isn’t even a good example!”
Venom huffed. “Not the point, Eddie.”
“Alright, then. What is?”
“I can see everything you see. I know everything you know, Eddie. I have looked back on sex with you and Annie-“
“You can’t do that!” Eddie felt hot. He trotted a bit faster across the street and down the block, still too far from home to have this conversation. Actually, nowhere was good to have this conversation. “Don’t go prying into my business like that, V. Annie wouldn’t like it either.”
“It’s our business, Eddie.”
“Like hell it is.”
A few more blocks. A handful more puddles to jump over and car tsunamis to avoid before he was moderately dry and too high to think.
“Porn never has pink girls in it.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough.”
A stupid comment. Foolish to provoke the thing that half lives in his brain. Eddie’s mind suddenly filled with woman on their hands and knees, in various states of dress, all of whom had bright pink hair and fuck-me eyes. Cum splatted on powder pink lips, hand jobs with tints of blush, rhythmic anal shots on the most red-rose colored holes.
“Jesus fucking Christ, V!”
Eddie didn’t remember watching any of that. He could’ve. He definitely had seen something like that once or twice. He didn’t outwardly seek videos online, or in the past, for people with specifics hair colors, never mind any of… that. Humiliation shook his bones unsteadily, his keys falling to the ground not once but twice until he ripped open his apartment door.
“Seriously, what are you looking for?!” Eddie yelped.
He discarded the airpod case, left out the individual headphones on his countertop, no doubt to get lost or chewed down his sinks garbage disposal one day. It didn’t matter, they had broke forever and a half ago anyway.
“Looking for pink girl,” Venom responded, unfazed.
“That’s not-“
A dam broke, a flood of the most debauched hentai pornography swarmed Eddie’s frontal lobe, causing him to knuckle grip the island’s rounded corners.
School girls’ skirts pushed up as men’s hands pawed underneath them on crowded trains. A drawing of a woman in a two-piece suit, strung up in ropes and ropes and ropes, pressing her skin out, sex drawn to serious perfection. Barely there cloth, like a towel, hanging almost clear on a hazy image of a girl. Her nipples big and inviting, almost to a freakish level. A drawing of a cross-eyes bimbo blonde hanging from the ceiling, her pussy molded around a huge dildo strapped to a scary looking contraption.
“V, seriously, what the hell?!”
“I haven’t found it.”
“Oh, buddy, I think you’ve found enough.”
He throws the chocolate bars on the table next to the scattered airpods and half eaten fruit pile. Theres a pizza box with oil stains hanging out of the open oven, a sink full of dishes, and on the back counter, there’s an array of takeout boxes with plastic forks sticking out of them.
Eddie drags a heavy hand down his face. “Forget all that,” he waves the air, “we have to clean the kitchen.”
He gathers up the almost rotting fruit, tossing them into the Chinese takeout boxes. The pizza box finds itself a new home in an industrial sized trash bag that smells like the fakest flowers Eddie has ever had the displeasure of sniffing.
“Smells like shit,” he says.
Trash done. Dishes halfway there. Eddie looks over his shoulder at the state of the rest of his apartment; more discarded wrappers and towels, clothes just barely holding onto the back of the wayward dining chairs. Why’d he even move those?
“Hey, V? You gonna help, buddy?”
A groan. “Still looking.”
Eddie blows a raspberry, eyeing the grimy kitchen backslash. The grout was once white. “Dude, who cares? Worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, I’m doing the dishes so you have to do the living room.” The watch on his left hand ticks away, little hand just shy of the eight. “And you have to do the bathroom, too. Last time I did it and I swear I pulled pieces of you outta the drain.”
Silence ebbs as the bubbles fall down the sink drain to their soapy funeral. Wet plates get stacked neatly in this bamboo drying rack Eddie bought from Ikea when he moved out the first time.
“Venom?” Eddie sucks his teeth. “I know you can hear me. I’m done with the dishes.” He wipes his clean hands off on the front of his hoodie, then rips it off and adds it to the pile of others on the same dining chair. “I’m not starting dinner ‘til this whole place is clean. No dinner, no chocolate.”
There’s a beat of nothing as Eddie leers out his kitchen window with purpose. It’s hard to reprimand the thing that shares your body, there’s no good way to scold a brick wall when it doesn’t have a set of eyes.
“Venom!”
“Don’t care about chocolate.”
Eddie gasps, almost hurt. “I just spend fifty bucks on weed chocolate, something we can both share, and you don’t care? Buddy, you haven’t even tried it yet. The THC content was the highest they sell. If I asked for a higher dose I’d probably scare the guy.”
Venom says nothing. The only noise in the kitchen is the faucet behind Eddie’s back that drips and the cars outside that wail against the wet concrete. It’s still raining and dark, neither of which will be letting up any time soon. The only light is the neon monstrosity above their heads that’s a sickening shade of off putting yellow and the flickering red light from the bodega across the way.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong, Eddie. I told you, I’m doing research.”
Eddie tosses his head back against the wooden cabinets filled with glasses he never uses. He closes his eyes.
“Can you do that later- tomorrow even? Preferably when I’m sleeping?”
Inky coils of Venom spiral out from under Eddie’s cuffed jeans. They take their time trailing up his calves, around his thighs, molding to his belt and every little crevice they find until they stop dead center to his chest.
Eddie tilted his head, looking down at the black stain on his cotton shirt. “Bathroom now?”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you, Eddie?”
He snorts. “Yes, a lot, actually. So much so that I won’t even hire a maid because I like the way you clean so much.”
Eddie predicts that Venom will make a comment on the fact that they both know that’s a lie. If Eddie’s lazy then Venom is downright irresponsible. The latter won’t pick up a sponge unless it’s nearly forced in its big, gooey fingers, or unless Eddie waves the prospect of chocolate or bad-guy liver over Venom’s big, scary head. But it doesn’t.
“Maid, Eddie!” The vines of black dance into swirls, vibrating against his chest into happy little ringlets.
Eddie snorts again. “You want a maid?”
“No! Eddie maid!”
“Buddy,” he sighs. “I’ve already compromised with you. I’m not doing your half of the chores tonight. No Maid Eddie. Even if you don’t care about the chocolate.”
Eddie can practically feel Venom shake its head. “No, no! Eddie wears the maid outfit like the pink girls do!”
A tired hand wrestles over Eddie’s face, then the other one joins in for him to groan into his still wet palms. “V…”
“You won’t tell me about pink girl so I had to find her myself. All she wears is tiny skirts in different colors and maid costumes from IParty.”
“V, why are you looking through my memories of vintage hentai? Pink girl isn’t even one person, there’s like - there’s so many animes with girls with pink hair and school uniforms. There’s blue girls, too. Maybe green if you’re interested?”
“No, Eddie. We want to know about the one from the store!”
Eddie finds the laundry basket by his feet and starts shoving all his towels and clothes scattered around the kitchen-living-dining area into it. It quickly becomes a hefty pile. Thankfully at their new apartment there’s actually laundry in-unit. A godsend.
“The one from the dispensary?” There’s about eight-trillion socks littered under his couch and underneath discarded pillows. There’s another set sitting atop the radiator that Eddie has to physically peel off from. “Venom, I haven’t watched every anime porn video ever, ok? I’m not that lonely.”
“Your serotonin levels were pathetic when we met you.”
He dumps the shirts and socks into the wash with far too much detergent and an egregious door slam.
“Dude, seriously?”
“We made your serotonin levels better.”
“Yeah, real cool, V. Now can you clean the bathroom so we can raise them even higher?”
“No, pink girl first.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! What’s got you so hung up on a poster of porn that you can’t clean the damn drain?”
Venom pools out of Eddie’s jeans onto the floor and materialized up into the big, full mass that Eddie only really gets to see in the mirror when he and Venom fuse. Only ever when Venom takes over like a suit of armor is Eddie ever seven foot something and built like a brick shit house, on the other side, looking up at the black massive creature, is only a tad bit terrifying with all those rows of teeth smiling down at you.
“V?” Eddie asks, brown eyes looking up and wide at Venom.
Venom steps closer, as if it still isn’t attached at Eddie’s literal hip. “You looked too long at the poster, Eddie.”
He shrugs. “Ok, yeah, my bad? I didn’t know our weed guy did a little bit of remodeling.”
“That’s not why you were looking at the poster, Eddie.”
“Right, sorry, I was little confused by the literal porn decorating his walls?”
Venom shakes its head. “You were jealous.”
Heat shoots down Eddie’s spine and his toes sing with an unfortunate electrical buzz. He side steps to nowhere, back hitting the side of the washer-drier and a magnet falls off and clatters to the floor.
“What!? No- that’s not- V, come on. I’m not jealous of a drawing. That’s so-“
“Pathetic? Yes, you are, Eddie. We know this. Remember, you are a loser.”
Eddie nods sagely. “Right, right,” he say slowly. “Thanks for reminding me. Anyways, this was a rather enlightening talk but you still have a drain to snake so-“
Venom slithers closer, like he didn’t need to use his giant legs to walk on over and press Eddie’s shoulders to the metal frame. “But, we are together now, so you are now my loser.”
Eddie purses his lips. “That doesn’t make any of this better.”
Venom looms closer, shiny, white teeth in Eddie’s direct line of sight. “Yes it does, Eddie. We can fix your problem.”
“Problem?” He chuckles. “What problem? The only problem we have is our displaced chore responsibility.”
“No, Eddie, we have other problems.”
Blood pumps quickly to Eddie’s cock unprovoked. His hands jerk to his dark washed jeans, palms prickling with tingles and sweat. Eddie attempts to speak but the words get lodged back down his throat when swarms of photos get projected behind his eyelids. Pink girl takes shape into Eddie, slack-jawed and thrust up into ligaments of black tendrils. Venom’s face curves behind Eddie’s head in the vision, massive tongue licking stripe after stripe down the man’s neck, teeth so close to puncturing skin and muscle - Eddie can almost feel it.
His knees grow weak at the idea. Eddie even starts panting, the back of his hand covers his blushing red face.
“Venom, that’s not funny.”
“Not funny,” Venom repeats, white snake eyes pierce down Eddie’s trembling figure. The washing machine kicks on and begins to vibrate against Eddie’s back and ass, nearly spooking the shit out of him with a yelp.
Venom takes the opportunity to flip Eddie, face and chest now pressed into the cool metal of the appliance. Eddie’s clothed, hard cock rocks with the rhythm of the machine, sending him spiraling.
Eddie whines against the unmoving top half of the washer. “Venom,” his plea is moot, even if Venom cared to listen. His palms splayed out against the white metal, attempting and failing to grip anything on the smooth surface.
“We can help your problem,” it purrs against Eddie’s flush face. “Just like pink girl.”
Eddie has to release the laugh that he’s held in. This is something out of his literal dreams, probably been brewing since the day the parasite attached to Eddie’s barely willing body. Now a free hive mind for whatever disrespectful kinks Eddie has stored to the very back of his mind.
This wasn’t something either of them had much time to talk about or touch on. No books out there on what to do with alien that you now host, the do’s and dont’s of sex. Do I consent? Better yet, do we consent? What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine again. They had barely gotten over Carnage or Annie and Dan. Eddie hasn’t been on a date since Annie and they dated for a little too long, put off an engagement longer than Annie’s personal liking. Eddie should text her, let her know that he was somehow just looking out for the both of them. She probably wouldn’t find it funny.
“Stop thinking about Annie when we are here,” Venom hisses.
Eddie attempts to look over his shoulder. “Are you actually jealous right now,” he grins. “Look I’m not even-nngh“ Venom presses the both of them harder into the rumbling washer. Eddie’s cock finds a nearly uncomfortable spot pressed against his thigh and the crevice of his jeans. It hurts a little too good.
“Yes you are,” Venom actually growls.
“You’re not one to- fuck.” Venom’s black, liquid skin rolls behind the back of Eddie’s balls, to the front of his cock, gripping the end of the shaft. “Oh my god.” Eddie’s knees grow weaker when Venom just nearly pulses around the base. Slight, barely-there taps along the veins of his penis have him seeing stars. The washing machine doesn’t help.
“Venom,” Eddie pants against the hood of the appliance.
“We could’ve done this sooner.”
Eddie is too aware of that. Been aware of that the second the black goop that fell from the sky and seeped into his skin didn’t kill him. Once Eddie was up on his two legs and the world stopped spinning, he was hoping this would be the outcome, not fighting crime or whatever it is the pair of them can legally call it. Besides murder.
Truth be told, Eddie has always been a secret degenerate but life had a way of putting a pause on your sex drive after you lost your job and your fiancée and, like, everything else. Venom found a way to ‘help’. Finding ways to trick the brain into releasing all the good hormones so the two of them didn’t die and Eddie didn’t kill himself. He’s much too good a host to lose so easily.
This though. This could trick the brain into releasing a lot of healthy hormones. Just in newer fashions they’ve never bothered to try together.
“Oh- ha, f-ah!” Eddie can’t get his words out properly. The tendril cupping his balls drops them, slivering between them and up across his pulsing hole. It feels delicious. Something he’s put off for way too long.
When’s the last time he’s masturbated? When’s the last time he’s touched his ass? When the last time someone touched his ass?
“Eddie, Eddie,” his body sharer hums. “You liked pink girl. You wanted to be pink girl. I can make you my pink girl.”
It’s stupid and hilarious, so Eddie laughs, jaw rumbling against the beating metal frame of the washing machine. His chuckle is only amusing to himself, however.
Those thoughts and images are back, ripping the laughter from Eddie’s throat and replacing it with black phallic goo. Eddie moans around the sensation that is not equal, nor inherently separate, from what sucking dick has ever felt like for him. The shape is not hard enough for him to feel like he needs to wrap his lips around and cover the sharp edges of his teeth, instead, Venom fills his mouth like thick jello, taking up space between his molars and gums, stretching out and working its way down Eddie’s well acquainted throat. Normally, he doesn’t have the best gag reflex, could never figure out how to swallow down a well-endowed eight inches. But now, sharing the space with the monster that is penetrating every orifice, Eddie doesn’t have to worry too hard. Venom pulls some wires and crosses some more, the tentacle works down Eddie’s throat with ease, pushing and pulling across his tongue, sending shivers down his spine and curling his toes. He doesn’t feel like retching but his body convulses all the same.
“Mmphm.” Eddie’s eyes nearly rolls back into his head as Venom pulls from his throat almost fully and then back in with a vengeance. His nails scrape across the washers frame, digging into the rivets of the door hinges.
“What next, Eddie?”
Another silly thing to say when Eddie’s throat is being fucked, until Venom tosses some ideas behind Eddie’s fluttering eyelids.
Eddie getting fucked in the shower. Eddie getting railed on their couch. Tame, easy to digest as the thoughts keep coming and coming. Then there’s glimpses of Eddie walking the aisles of the grocery store, Venom plugged underneath his clothes, fondling his balls, playing with his nipples, Eddie gripping the shopping cart for dear life or he’ll fall over convulsing. Another of him, hidden in the changing room of an unmarked store, riding Venom with his head back and sweat dripping from his brows, lost in ecstasy as the two of them stare each other down through the wall mounted mirror.
Poses of Eddie strapped to their bed by ropes of black, starfished and naked, glimmering in the dimly lit room. Venom toying with his body, taking its time pulling little mewls and yelps from his lover’s mouth, shoving finger-shaped tendrils in every hole presented to him.
Eddie’s hips fully give out, dropping and trapping his cock hard against the vibrating appliance. He’s so close and all Venom is doing is making out with his throat and holding him in place against the fucking washing machine. It’s almost humiliating.
He feels like he’s going to cum any second but he keeps pausing at his peak. The precipice goes on for minutes. Eddie is being edged.
“Mmmh.” Eddie curls around the washer like he’s trying to seep into it. He tightens his jaw against Venom with no luck, it just keeps stroking along the roof of his mouth, making his toes curl harder in his socks and his mouth drip with muffed moans.
“We like you like this, Eddie. We can keep you like this forever.” Venom jabs the tendril further down Eddie’s mouth. “It feels good.”
Please stop. Don’t stop. Let me go.
Eddie’s body wrestles with the need to cum and the desire to hold this feeling forever. Or maybe run away. Or maybe not.
Static fizzles behind his ears, every car horn from outside sounds like its miles away, the rumbling from the washing machine adds to the white noise rattling between Eddie’s ears.
Eddie moans louder when Venom’s wraps around his cock again, sliding up and down only once, it makes the man’s entire body shake. Eddie convulses like he’s being electrocuted. Repeatedly.
“Eddie,” Venom whispers right into Eddie’s ear.
He’s not cumming, but his veins sing with adrenaline and there’s sweat sticking to Eddie’s brow bone. He’s right there - right fucking there - but Venom must be holding out on him, or something, because masturbating and sex have never made his thighs shake like this or his brain feel like it’s underwater.
Venom pulls the appendage out from deep within Eddie’s throat with a satisfying whine. His jaw stays unlocked, hanging with fatigue, tongue out like a dog.
“Oh-haa! Fa-ack!” Venom’s svelte little tentacles latch onto his nipples, pinching them, twisting them, almost sucking them - straight up abusing them from underneath his shirt. He can’t seem to catch his breath. “V! Hey!” He feels some more twirl around his thighs, making their way up between his legs, parting them with vigor, and lapping against his hole like a tongue. Another swivels to the head of his penis, wrapping around it until it starts to hurt.
“V! Hey, no wait, h-hold up, Buddy!” Eddie’s sweaty hands grasp for purchase on his vibrating throne. There’s not much to grip to on the smooth surface, especially with wet palms and twitchy fingers.
“We know you want this,” Venom says, almost in a mocking tone. “We looked through your thoughts, remember?” It laughs. “Have you already forgotten, Eddie?”
No, he hasn’t. Eddie was very present when his mind was nothing but crude flashes of his own body being tormented by black-squid ligaments. Hard to forget. He didn’t think they’d try everything out on the first go, or rather, ever try anything at all. Not like this. But he can’t really complain when he’s on the brink of cumming so hard he’d see stars.
He shouldn’t-
“Eddie?” Venom’s jacked body leans on him some more, pushing him harder into the washing machine. He moans along with it. The firm press of Venom body feels grounding.
There would be no coming back from this, even though the pair of them made it this far. Venom would stop if needed, it’d feel Eddie’s discomfort probably before he himself ever did.
“Eddie?” That soothing, deep voice asks.
Deals with the devil are never equal. Unfortunately, Eddie’s isn’t on his shoulder - it’s in his head.
“Venom,” Eddie mewls.
Venom slides in Eddie’s pulsing hole, taking its sweet time. It’s heavy and already wet, which is amazing for all the right reasons, but it’s skinny, which is equally interesting. Eddie parts his legs more, letting the skinny tentacle push in and out, building a rhythm to the soft pants Eddie breaths out into his shoulder, burying his face in the folds of his hands when Venom picks up the pace. It feels good but it doesn’t scratch Eddie’s itch.
The body draped over his back holds Eddie’s hands, black fingers thread his, holding the palms firm and flat.
Venom’s cock moves with purpose. In, out. Warm and steady and big.
When did it get big?
“V..?” Eddie’s brows pinch. He can’t shift at all, Venom is thoroughly draped over him like a big gooey coat that weighs eight billion pounds. Eddie isn’t being crushed, he’s just trapped.
“Mmh, Eddie.”
“What are you-?”
Eddie cuts himself off when Venom cranks up the speed. Dark hips meet the back of his thighs in a heated pace, making debauched slapping noises echo though their living room. Eddie sucks in his cheeks, attempting to save face for no real reason other than for his disjointed pride. Venom feels good tearing up his walls, Eddie just doesn’t want to admit it quite yet.
The tendril laced around his cock moves, sliding around, tickling the head of Eddie’s penis with purpose until it finds what it’s looking for: the hole.
Seeing white, Eddie tips his head all the way back, eyes rolling with it, neck exposed and swallowing down the saliva taking up good real estate. He moans. Loud. So loud and broken, like a bad porn he’s watched - weak, whimpering, and so so pathetic. His teeth meet the fat of his lip, breathing through eyeteeth like he’s out for blood. The tentacle slides down the inside of Eddie’s cock. Pulsing, warm. So good. So good it hurts again. It wiggles, jolting to wherever it needs to have Eddie breathing this heavy and sweating, eyes crossing, legs shaking in place.
His chin hits the roof of the washing machine when Venom’s little friend pulls out of Eddie’s cock.
“V- V! Hooooly shit.” He sobs, unseeing.
Venom pushes back in through Eddie’s cock, bigger this time. Ribbed, bumpy. Like a string of little marbles inserting themselves under his foreskin and causing his bones to dissolve. Everything’s hot and feels like tv static and cotton candy. Sweet nothing, his brain supply’s with nothing else but: this feels good. this feels good. this feels good. On repeat.
“V’nmmmh,” Eddie slurs out the name. Face fully pressed to the side of the machine that has since stopped vibrating - he doesn’t need it to, he’s already doing that in spades. But still not cumming yet.
The marble-shaped appendages wink out of Eddie’s cock one after the other. He attempts to slap the machine, or shake his thighs, toss his head back - but he can’t, Venom has him fully pinned down. Another black snake of Venom wraps itself around Eddie’s neck, much like a choker with a leash.
It’s hopeless. Eddie is brainless. Weightless. Venom takes over, using Eddie’s body like a trainable sex doll. Poking at things it probably shouldn’t and getting away with it because it makes Eddie bite his lip and rasp out delicious sounding noises deep within his throat.
Venom even takes off all of his clothes through the hazy dream of it all.
“So good,” Eddie chirps, then breaths in lightning fast. They get punched out of him while Venom thrusts its penis back and forth, sawing away at Eddie’s nerves. He gulps, “‘s big, V.”
He means it as a question. A general comment of, perhaps, concern. But Venom takes it a request. Expanding the width of itself, adding girth and weight to something that Eddie is beyond satisfied with. Eddie can feel the size take shape after each pass through his hole. Venom takes it out fully every time, letting Eddie get accustomed to nothing, hole pulsing in the free air, to quickly shove back inside with a quarter of an inch in added girth.
Eddie whines. His nails dig into the tentacle wrapped around his neck. It hasn’t choked him, not yet. Just a lingering presence against his pulse point.
“Baby,” he says.
Venom’s penis jackhammers back out and then in, coming to an inhuman size that Eddie never wants to see with his eyes. He can feel it, which is enough. The pressure hits him between his eyes, under his lungs and the soles of his feet. The constant pressing against Eddie’s G spot is almost nauseating. It’s brutal.
“Fuck, fuck.”
Venom pulls Eddie from his comfortable cage atop his washing machine. The symbiote pulls him up, back-to-chest, slips those big monster hands underneath Eddie’s knees, pulling them to his chest almost so he can’t breathe without resistance.
“V,” Eddie lulls his neck back onto Venom’s shoulder - which doesn’t last long.
The massive hands assure themselves in place, gripping the back of Eddie’s knees and thighs. Eddie knows what’s going to happen before he can even pretend to stop it.
Venom pulls Eddie up, cock sliding out just enough so the tip is still inside, then slamming down, using Eddie’s weight and gravity - their added layer of connection - to press the thing all the way back inside.
Eddie’s eyes flutter to stay open. White spots and black spots and unnoticeable colors flock his blurry vision. A never ending current of electricity taps the back of his spine and sings in his ears before and after each drop. Wading in and out, Eddie ragdolls, succumbing to the pleasured torture Venom is putting him through. The only thing he can really do is try to keep his head up and flex his toes on pace when Venom tugs at his rim. And maybe breathe.
Venom is perfectly silent during all of this, barring his metallic-sounding grunts here and there. The noises sound like Eddie’s hearing them from the other side of a sting and a tin can.
Eddie, however, can’t keep his mouth closed. Degrading huffing noises tumble from his lips along with sobs and slobber. He can feel the drool off his chin when it slaps his shoulder every time Venom brings him up and then back down. He sounds obscene; looks worse when Venom drags them both over to the bedroom mirror.
Eddie’s flushes mad from his ears to the top of his shoulders, red all the way down his chest and the whole of his cock is a pulsing purple color, ready to burst. His eyes are watery, blinking back feel-good tears. Everything is a kaleidoscope of Venom, Eddie, Sex.
“Look at you, Eddie.” Venom practically nuzzles the side of his face. “Perfect.”
Some consciousness springs from Eddie. His hands grip for purchase across Venoms forearms, then across his own knees and to the tendrils holding his cock in place. He’s thoroughly embarrassed. He even attempts to pull it off, as if that’ll do a damn thing. As if so much damage hasn’t been done yet and he doesn’t look like he’s been properly fucked out ten times over.
“No, Eddie,” Venom says, batting him away like a child.
“Venom.” Eddie clears his eyes some more and squints down the mirror now that the two of them aren’t jumping up and down. Some coherence is back - fleeting, but Eddie uses it to stare down the weapon that has been pounding around in his body.
The bedroom is dark but the door to the living room is mostly open, letting in the kitchen light easily enough. Venom’s toothy grin widens, pulling Eddie’s legs further apart, knees screaming against his shoulders. Eddie makes out the bulge of Venom against his stomach. The mass the size of a soda can presses against the pitiful skin he’d like to justify as abs. It twitches when Eddie is allowed to touch over it, fingers rubbing against the spot that pushes out the hardest underneath his skin.
Venom jolts, the two of them barely move an inch off the ground, but Eddie is eyeing down the space between his legs the whole time, the movement is noticeable even in the shitty lighting. Eddie gasps and goes ramrod straight, nearly cumming his brains out but it doesn’t happen. Again.
Eddie hears the satisfaction of it all via the curl of Venom’s smirk. White bug eyes staring him down through the mirror and tongue lapping at the air around them. Venom is eating this shit up, dangling the end over Eddie’s head like a carrot on a string just a little too out of reach. They’re both enjoying the struggle.
“You like being embarrassed,” Venom says as if it isn’t a loaded gun of a sentence.
Eddie whimpers, caught. He opens his mouth to voice anything clever but shuts himself up and watches his ears in the mirror turn a perfect red color.
He does. He revels in the idea of being humiliated to a degree that only really makes sense to him. Some of his hookups got it. Annie was sure to probably never see that side of him. It was fine being the cool guy with the motorcycle and the hair, not the guy that wanted to have his asshole toyed with and called nasty things.
But Venom unfortunately knew it all and saw it all play like reruns in the back of Eddie’s skull.
Venom rumbled with a beastly chuckle. “Pathetic Eddie, nobody has ever been able to fuck you stupid yet?”
Eddie lets out all of one laugh before he sucks it back in when Venom thrusts back up inside with force.
“No,” Eddie responds weakly to the ceiling fan.
Venom moves Eddie’s body around as if he weighs nothing. Up and down at a breakneck pace with no plans on stopping in sight.
“Weak little Eddie,” Venom whispers. “Can’t even put up a fight.”
That’s something deep and dark Eddie hasn’t looked into in a while, even if it’s something he wouldn’t like to ignore. Big, scary men have always been something Eddie would prefer to be under - Venom checks enough of the boxes to be holding Eddie like a fleshlight and having him speak in tongues.
Heat pools in his stomach.
“Venom.” It’s not even a cohesive word. Just some gibberish that sounds like it might be the monster’s name, but Eddie is a bit too preoccupied to try and annunciate his vowels better.
It’s frightening, the picture they paint in the frames of the bedroom mirror: black mass with shark teeth and slits of grey-white eyes, Eddie sweaty and crying, on the edge of a brink. He doesn’t have too much time to take it all in before Venom is turning his head into its face and shoving his tongue back down the poor man’s throat. It goes all the way back with a heavy moan and a smile on Eddie’s face.
The pace becomes brutal, a throbbing heat bearing down on every nerve in Eddie’s body. It’s lulls him to a state of feeling only. No thought that isn’t just the noises and broken sentences coming from his mouth.
“Venom, please, holy shit.”
“Good boy, Eddie.” And doesn’t that scratch an itch he’s pretended to forget about.
The pieces of Venom that are lacked onto Eddie’s nipples dissolve back into his skin, leaving just rings of tight black around the swollen nubs, much like nipple rings.
“You should thank me,” Venom says.
“Yes. Thank you.” Eddie says in between catching his breath and losing it. And then, “Venom.”
“Eddie, Eddie.”
They both feel it. That rise back to what Venom has been pushing back on for seemingly hours.
“Needy little thing,” Venom whispers.
”Fucking-“ Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of the head the harder Venom abuses his prostate. “Oh my Go. Oh my God.”
Eddie gasps for air, shaking his head and kicking his feet, twitching with anticipation.
“Venom. Venom. Venom.” The mantra pleads. “Please, please, please!”
“Good, Eddie.” Venom whispers. “Beg.”
”Thank you! Please- fuck. Yes!”
Whatever Venom has been holding back on comes to Eddie is spades, drumming through to his core from head to toes, wiping him of thought for a full few seconds. Venom beats on every pressure point Eddie has hidden away, making him cum with a force the shakes his bones. The heat makes the sweat feel cold against Eddie’s raw skin. He’s barely catches his breath when Venom pulls out and sends another shockwave through his well used hole, and then he’s laid out on some soft surface where he can hopefully get back his hearing.
~
“Oh my god.” Eddie wakes up with the sound of an ambulance screaming down their street at full blast. At least his hearing works again.
“V?” Eddie touches his chest, feeling around for the very lovely missing annoyance. “Venom?” He repeats with some urgency.
Getting his footing, he heads to the second of three rooms in their apartment, foot nearly smacking off a basket of clean clothes.
“Eddie.” Venom waves from his little pool of body nuzzled on the couch. The TV light reflects off his shiny skin and the polished floor.
Eddie takes a step back and blinks in the lowlight for what he can see. The space is spotless. The stainless kitchen sink is, for once, stainless, along with the fridge with all of its magnets and pictures all right side up. The trash is empty, the stove top appears to be scrubbed clean, the living room rug looks vacuumed and all the laundry is folded neatly in that little white basket by his feet.
He runs a hand through his hair, nails pressing down to get a grip. “Did you - how long was I out for?”
“Forty-five minutes.”
Eddie tuts, finding his spot on the other half of the couch and sits on something that crumbles under his ass.
“What the-?” he digs under his sweats and pulls out a metallic wrapped with a now warped image of someone’s royalty-free grandmother. “Are you serious?” Eddie laughs. “Did you really eat the chocolate without me? Are you even high?”
Venom wiggles his way down to Eddie’s thigh and then seeps back into his home under the man’s skin.
“Yes,” Venom says in their conjoined space, “it motivated me to clean the rest of our home.”
“So you’re high?”
“No quite. Not enough chocolate for that.”
Eddie shrugs. “How much would we need to do that?”
“Not enough you can afford, Eddie.”
Eddie sucks his teeth and smiles weakly to himself. “Back to being a dick to me, I see?”
A warm feeling drenches his body and Eddie try’s not to twitch or flinch. “Eddie is our favorite. We can prove it to you again if you would like?”
The man taps his thighs with his fingertips. “Oh, no-no. That’s too much for me for one day. I’m ok, big guy. You’ll ruin me.”
When Eddie closes his eyes he can practically feel Venom smirk with his toes of shark teeth and grin with slits of white eyes. “Ruin you?” The voice says.
The Real Housewives cuts to commercial break at the same time that Eddie feels something sliver down his spine.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie prays to no one.