#venom/reader

[continentalblue]

venom is such a funny character ahahaha (I NEED HIM SO BAD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEA-)

[agent-yolk-writes]

Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Chapter 9

I...still have a lot of catching up to do since I'm updating the main story again. Thank you for your patience!

This episode takes a step back to explore Reader and Venom's relationship, but the next chapter should bring us back.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

AO3 Version Here

NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE (2) PDNY Chief on the headless, handless body discovered last night: “We will catch the person who did this. We will give this innocent victim the justice they deserve.”

Hottest Spider-Man merch and memorabilia available to purchase right now, just in time for Christmas!

~

At the end of the day, no matter how you look at it, you’re going to need help.

You’re going to need Spider-Man’s help, specifically. 

Granted, it’s going to be a little awkward since you’re going to a professional superhero with what’s essentially their ex in tow. Will you unintentionally open up old wounds? Probably. Is there a chance Spider-Man might see you as a villain rather than an innocent bystander with unnecessary baggage they want to get rid of? Most likely, but that might be the anxiety talking.

Then again, how were you supposed to track down your friendly neighborhood hero? Signal him with a floodlight into the sky with a spider on it? Actually, that might be a good-No...no, it wouldn’t now that you thought about it. It’ll just attract unneeded attention from everyone except the said hero. Venom mentioned that he developed something from his former host, something that detects, to a degree, the potential danger that’s nearby. If both you and Spider-Man go out on patrol tonight and sense something, it’s possible that you could ‘accidentally’ bump into each other. This is genius!

As much as you want to get the tea on him, school comes first. Besides, whoever’s behind that spider mask would love to enjoy having some normalcy in his life before some high schooler (you) barges in with their alien former host under their skin. Either way, you wouldn’t mind skipping out on club duties. It’s a good compromise, in your opinion. 

Speaking of which, school just couldn’t drag out any longer than it already is. It sucked that everyone in the hallway might be staring at you as if they knew who you had for dinner against your will last night. It wasn’t your fault. Kyle had you cornered when it was dark and-

The screech of the bell made you jump. Damn, was that bell always so loud? What time was...oh yea, it’s lunchtime. There’s no doubt in your mind that the most popular girl in school, Stacy Adams, would be looking for you. It didn’t help your case as you overheard two of her minions talking to each other about how worried their boss is since her boyfriend suddenly ghosted her. Sucks to say that’s not the only kind of ghost he is now. 

Your best bet in being undetected by Manhattan’s own Plastics is to hide in the third-floor bathroom by the physics labs. Just you, your body co-pilot, and the “hamburger” you refused to eat based on recent events in your life. Venom was more than happy to eat it, but he quickly spat it out after the first bite. Why did you bother even buying lunch today? Did you hope that some attempt at sleeping and one swig of mouthwash is going to wash away the taste of Kyle (or the robber in Koreatown, or the drunkard on Tenth Avenue, or the creep that followed you into the subway station in Harlem, or….) overnight?

With an annoyed sigh nothing better to do to occupy your thoughts, you use your free hands to take out your phone and open up Twitter.

You remembered your good friend Hannah is a very avid fan of Spider-Man. She practically knows almost everything about him. She's good with data gathering, but not the investigative logic needed to piece together the entire puzzle. Her side hustle is running a Twitter page dedicated to pinpointing Spider-Man’s exact location, kinda like Manhattan Bird Watch. And to think she’s doing this manually without a bot. If it wasn't for the five other accounts that have been established years ago dedicated to spotting him more accurately and her lackluster posting time, there’s a possibility she might’ve been verified by her hard work alone.

You, on the other hand, were indifferent to superheroes. You never really found the need to insert them into your life until one literally inserted his life into you last week (Does he count as a ‘hero’ though?). So now you have to keep an eye on Hannah's guesstimations and figure out how you can remove an alien parasite out of you with your organs still solid and intact. At the same time, you’re keeping an eye out to see if there’s any suspicious activity that would warrant the webbed hero’s intervention.    It’ll be hard to do some galaxy brain predictions while Venom’s currently biting your liver in retaliation, but it’ll work out somehow. Maybe. 

“We are not a parasite! Apologize!” Said the parasite.

“Quit chewing at my organs like a dog toy and I will.” You shot back irritated. “I can’t juggle between thinking and trying not to be eaten alive here.” You weren’t surprised when he nipped your kidney for that retort. 

After constant flicking back and forth from Twitter to the map app you made a broad assumption that he’s currently on a course heading to either Manhattan or Brooklyn. You don’t have any idea what could be lying in either location, and nothing that’s currently trending could help you outside of the latest ‘is over party’ filled with idol fancams. He’s obviously not going to drop his location on every tweet on his verified account.  

“Aaargh. Why is everything so difficult?” Your whines echo in the bathroom. “He’s either in Coney Island or Long Island, and I don’t think he’d be hanging out in his vineyard out on the forks with nothing to stick on.” A pause. “...Does he even own a vineyard?”

None that we know of.

Letting out another frustrated groan, you continue your search on the web. As you expect, it’s as misinformed as you can expect. Some even claim he’s in Japan. What kind of ‘friendly neighborhood hero’ would he be if he was on the other side of the planet? Ugh, this is so frustrating. At this rate you might as well go out...and…..find him…

If you can’t go to Spider-Man, then your only option is to bring Spider-Man to you…hold on.

You glare at the tendril. “Stop putting thoughts into my head.”

“It’s our head. We share the same thoughts.”

“Alright, then what number am I thinking of?” Hopefully, he doesn’t pick 421. 

“421.” Damn it, he’s good. 

There is a certain risk of being the problem rather than solving them. Yeah, there are villains and then there are supervillains. Yeah, Spider-man can take on villains, but it’s the supervillains that will most likely take priority over everything so the city doesn’t topple to its knees overnight. Hell, you even had to do evacuation drills for this scenario!

The shrill of the period end bell brings you back to the current day. Cursing at the outdated machine, your companion sunk back into your body as you exited the bathroom. Rather than paying attention in class, your focus went to trying to iron out how you can cross paths with the man in red and blue spandex.

~

By the end of the school day, the antsy feeling inside you was getting harder to contain. Are you nervous? Excited? It’s hard to tell at this point. The idea of seeing Spider-Man, like actually seeing him up close and having an actual conversation with him...it’s giving you the chills. You’ve never been this worked up over a superhero before. Hopefully, Hannah doesn’t bring up how much you’ve changed in the past two weeks. 

God, where do you even start? Where do you go first? There’s so much happening in the city that trying to find where Spider-Man is going to end up makes finding a needle in a haystack child’s play. 

You could use a knish right about now. Can’t track a spider down on an empty stomach. 

~

NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE (2) PDNY baffled in figuring out the identity of the decapitated victim. Skeptics say this is related to attacks with similar MO in the past weeks. 

Today’s Poll: Do you believe we’re witnessing the beginning of a new villain?

~

“Excuse me, have any of you seen Spider-Man recently?” While it is a polite and straightforward conversation starter, it’s technically not the correct way to start a conversation with some obviously shady people. Well, to be fair, you did follow them into a secluded area that was clearly off-limits. Logically, they would’ve bumped into the hero you’re looking for.

Now here you are, head in your hands in a warehouse painted ceiling to floor in blood and viscera. Is it worth mentioning that the head that you’re holding in question isn’t even your own?

“God...damn it.” You sighed as you threw the body part somewhere behind you. You didn’t have the appetite to eat it now. “I didn’t think this through.” You groaned as you buried your actual head into your very bloody hands. 

“We couldn’t help it.” Venom tries to assure you. ��We need the strength to find him again.”

“But-ughh.” This is what you get for being the host of a brain-eating parasite, you supposed. "We gotta find an alternate energy source."

You get flashbacks to last night’s incident. You could remember getting out of your club meeting pretty late, and being followed home by the most popular girl in your school’s boyfriend right after. Everything was a blur after that. Vague memories were practically a slideshow in your mind. You remembered running, but hit a dead end. You could recall the menacing shadow that could only belong to an athlete. Then a headless body drops to your feet, and your stomach needing an emergency exit...

Ugh. You could feel your head starting to hurt just thinking about it. The damage has already been done, and you’ll get locked up sooner or later. It’s not like you’re eating people on purpose (yeah you are). This is why you need Spider-Man’s help.

He can show you how to apply discipline, how to control your power, and maybe...fight alongside him?

“Stop it!” Your voice echoed. “We’re getting sidetracked. We need to find the damn guy first!” Oh no, are those police sirens you’re hearing? You’re starting to hate the high pitch wailing of the horns recently. Better get out of here before you get a taste of undercooked pork. 

~

NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE BREAKING: Police discover a gruesome scene at warehouse with known connections to the Manfredi Crime Family. Rival families deny any involvement. 

~

After cross-referencing Twitter, it’s safe to say Spider-Man is estimated to show up somewhere nearby. Emphasis on the ‘somewhere’. Rather, it’s more of a toss-up between either East Midtown or Upper East Side. In an effort to keep your feet on the ground a little longer, you had an idea.

“Well I can’t roll up in the same space as your ex without knowing anything about him. Let’s make a quick detour, I know a place.” And so here you are at Midtown Comics.

It was the hottest spot for all things superheroes. Hannah dragged you to this place on more than one occasion. It’s super popular and it gets packed all the time. While a second store was established in an attempt to alleviate the issue, the appeal of even stepping in the flagship store as if it was a holy site attracted tourists in droves. Hell, it’s getting dark out and there’s still a sizable crowd in here. 

You couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer amount of merch for this web-slinging hero. The fact you can plaster his face on just about anything...you couldn’t help but wonder how much of a profit this guy gets on royalties alone. He has to own a vineyard with that money. 

As you looked around and flipped through some comic book pages here and there, you couldn’t help how quiet Venom got when you showed up. You would hope he would give you some kind of inside scoop, maybe a walk down memory lane when you looked at some prints, but voiceless commentary tells a lot.

You, uh, okay there...buddy? 

What you got in response was, in your interpretation, some form of a grunt. Oh, that might be bad.

Is this too much? I knew I should’ve gone to Kino but-

Not it.

“Huh?” You voiced your confusion, causing some customers to look at you. In an attempt to save face, you covered your ear as if you were adjusting your earbud. “What do you mean ‘not it’?”

Doesn’t feel right. We don’t know why.

Well...that certainly comes at a surprise. Then again, you are looking at artistic interpretations of his ex rather than the real deal. It would make sense to feel weird, you thought. Then again, what other superhero swings around NYC in red and blue spandex? You honestly had to think about what else you could or were going to say. Although, you did note a nervous feeling in your gut despite not experiencing it personally.

Suddenly, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stick up. Then that strange experience you had a few days ago started happening again. You only had a few seconds to brace yourself before the world started to shake. 

A loud explosion rocked your ears. Gasps and shrieks filled the store. Lights began to flicker in and out as books and other items fell off the shelves. You half processed a hardcover book hitting your head during what you can only describe as a seizure. And just as quickly as it happened, it stopped. One hand reached for the impact spot while the other used the shelves to push you back up.

Holy shit! What was that? You thought, followed by, I have to get out of here! 

That feeling in your gut came back twofold. The tingling sensation from your neck doesn’t feel like it’ll go away soon. While you were getting used to the sporadic occurrences of the earthquakes, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something’s different. Oh no! Could someone be trapped under some rubble outside?

With no time to waste, you barreled out the store and clambered up the closest wall to scout out the immediate area. There have been some things that have toppled over not to mention several cars piled up near Times Square. It looks like nobody got seriously hurt thankfully. You could hear emergency vehicles echoing throughout the city. While there isn’t anything that sticks out like a sore thumb, you still have that gnawing feeling in your stomach. 

“I wonder where Spider-Man is?” You thought aloud. According to the news, he would drop in to assess the damage before doing what he needs to do then dip. He should be here any moment but...where is he? Guess you should check Twitter. 

A barrage of notifications greeted you as you reached for your phone. As you open your lock screen, you can see messages from Hannah that sound very distressing. Incomprehensible even. It was hard to read them as they kept coming and coming. Is she okay? This isn’t like her at all. 

Unfortunately, the cause of Hannah’s distress texting decided to make itself known on your phone. While you could feel your heart drop, the rest of your body froze when a news notification emerged in the sea of texts.

NOTIFICATION: DAILY BUGLE BREAKING: New York’s Hero Spider-Man has died. His identity revealed to be grad student Peter Parker, 26.

“N-No…” Your voice was so small. Your phone slipped from your hand and dropped to your feet. “This...This can’t be…” The denial was only shot down by more and more news notifications popping up.

The next moment you could remember was staring at a TV display somewhere in the city. You watched helplessly as the reporters struggled not to cry on camera as they explained that Peter-no, you have no right to call him that after your search for him came to naught. They explained that Spider-Man succumbed to his injuries caused by the current earthquake that toppled several buildings in Brooklyn. 

You try not to acknowledge the reflection in the window. Those weren’t tears running down your face. The owner of that defeated look in their eyes isn’t you. But man, you look so tired.

“What am I going to do?” You croaked, peeling away from the display. “I couldn’t even track him down properly. How was I supposed to know he was in Brooklyn?” Worst of all, you’re starting to fear that Venom might not see any use for you after this spectacular failure. “What do you think?” Instead of a backhanded remark, you get...nothing. For a minute, at least.

“Not him.” He replied.

You couldn't have but blink. “What?”

“That’s not our Spider-Man.” A tendril emerged from your shoulder. He glanced at the TV before looking at you. “He was younger, we think. No ‘grad school’. Darker hair too.”

And that just adds the finisher to the wombo-combo series of events you still have yet to process. Your head hurts for a variety of reasons. All you want is to crawl into bed and hope all of this was a bad dream or some kind of hallucinogenic drug made by a mad scientist that's in the air. Anything that chases away the inevitable thoughts of your actions being for naught. 

You try to find your way home. The only things you could feel were the tears running down your face and the headache you’ll have by the time you get to bed.

Hopefully everything will return to normal tomorrow and you can try again. 

~

Unfortunately, it was all still very real. Even as you watched the funeral procession from a nearby rooftop, your entire body was buzzing.

A huge crowd dressed in red and blue gathered around the cathedral soaking in the eulogy given by the widow of their fallen idol. The speech itself was beautiful and inspiring. The weight crushing down on your shoulders seemed to dissipate for a moment. You were hopeful that the world was indeed counting on you, but you were quickly crushed by the reality of the situation. This isn’t helped by the tingling feeling in the back of your neck. It wasn’t too much of a concern, but it’s going off just low enough that you could ignore it if you don’t focus on it.

Somehow, someway, Spider-Man wasn't the ‘one’. Yes, it is Spider-Man that you're looking for, but the only one that exists is, well, no longer existing. 

“I’m so tired.” You said mindlessly. 

“We know.” 

You let your hands run down your face in frustration. “What am I going to do now?” 

“What are we going to do?”

“...Ugh, yeah. Fine.” 

You stood up and left your spot. This was getting too much for you. The headache from last night hasn’t gone away either. No amount of pain medication (that is quickly rejected back up by your partner) could do the trick, so you've resorted to ineffective temple rubbing. With that said and done, you picked yourself up from your ledge. As you did, the weird feeling in your neck was…pushing you. It wouldn’t reprimand you from going another direction, but it encouraged you when you did follow its guidance. Is this the famous sixth sense Spider-Man was said to have? Only one way to find out!  

And so, you found yourself standing outside Brooklyn Visions Academy the very next day. With your companion dressing up as one of the standard uniforms you saw, you enter the charter school with shaky steps as you find someone that can help you with your current predicament. 

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy myspace rabbit hole is not for the weak

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about free use boyfriend but it’s more of him begging you to use him at any and every opportunity, having him teasingly brush up against you or bending over for you when you’re watching tv or trying to do work, with three of his fingers buried in his sopping wet cunt , or with a plug laying snug inside, purposely showing off his gaping hole or even fucking himself in front of you, putting on a whole show til you’re achingly hard in your pants and he’s loudly begging - sobbing for you to fuck him but being unable to do anything because even though you can use him whenever you want, he still has to earn the permission to touch you.

Or thinking about free use boyfriend who’s just so excited to get used, but tries to keep it under wraps, does his best to have a conversation with you about your rough week while you’re pounding into him, but sweet thing can’t focus with your cock erratically driving up into his prostate, lays there loudly sobbing while you talk about some pesky coworker, blunt nails clawing at whatever surface’s supporting him in an attempt to maintain the last bit of his sanity but at some point it becomes too much for him so much so he stops responding and you have to deliver harsh slaps to his ass to bring him out of his trance, as you remind him this little arrangement is for your pleasure not his, and to speak when you ask him something, but sweet thing is so far gone, only manages to respond in broken sobs, even cums before you manage to finish, so you force him to stand there on shaky legs, cum smeared on his stomach and thighs while you retell your story and continue to pound his now sensitive ass

[merakidoll]

my monster fucker agenda is back! i missed my big beefy alien man 🎀

your body squrmied, hands bound to the large makeshift bed as you watched the monster watch you as if you were prey, and you were - his. “v-ven-“ you couldn’t fully say his name; his long tounge coming out to lick your wet cheek a deep hiss coming from him. “no talking.” no room in his words were left for you to argue, just the waiting and seeing that what the alien would do.

your legs pushed themselves together to stop the hard ache; you knew the smell of arousal was prominent in the air from how he hissed again, this time it paried with a head jerk and the monsters cock in between his legs bobbing, while thick big drops of his essence fell to the floor. before you blinked he was across the room, keeping a large distance; after, you felt a hard but gentle tug on your legs and a a soft, textured pointy tips fucking into your cunt with the dramatic sounds of your wetness in the air.

your eyes stayed closed as you couldn’t breath by the pleasure. it didn’t take you long to realize it was his tongue! vemom growing more greedy as he ate your using the flattness and length of his wet muscles to fuck into your hole but also tweak your clit, making it sore and sensitive. your breathing finally caught up to you when he pulled back. a deep cry and your body shaking, a orgasm that was right there fading away. “p-please! please! l-love you, please let me c-cum” you tried tugging at the things that bounded you but nothing worked. venom wouldn’t leave his baby all hot and bothered, no no no!

he slowly like a predator, got on the bed and hovered above you, large frame and broad shoulders taking heavy sighs, as he rose your leg to go above your head, so that you were folded just for him. “hmm” he said in a conforming way, one hand holding your legs while the other was used to position his cock to rest between your fat folds. a grunt of disapproval was heard that you didn’t wrap over him completely but it would do, your head and mouth that was right by the tip would help. he tested the position, one thrust of his hips, your clit throbbing and hole dripping, while your lips kissed his large head tasting him just a little!

“a-aging” he said more to himself, this time moving quicker, your tounge making an appearance to give a kitten lick as you moaned; the vibration sending shock waves through his body. after that he didn’t stop, his body feeling so good, you looking so pretty as you let the large drops fall into your mouth but of course all of it didn’t fit. you were too dumb, your pussy and tummy having a sort of feeling - so full, so close - and you came. squirting so much that venom gave you a slap with his cock as a reward. your body was shaking; so sensitive and venom only started to speed up a new found slickness helping him move better.

his slit eyes shut right when he was close, moving back and ignoring how you cried, he gripped himself using both hands pushing at the foreskin to urge it out better. you didn’t have to wait long to be decorated in him. venom making sure you were all painted in his cum so that anyone who thought you weren’t his, would know.

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY EIGHT: GLOSSAPHILIA w/ VENOM

You had always been mesmerised by Venom's tongue. The way drool glistened along the thick muscle, the way it stretched and tangled, the sheer size and length of it. You had confessed these thoughts to Eddie one night, the two of you a bit tipsy and in between heated, sloppy kisses when you pulled away with a giggle to discuss all of your filthy fantasies about being speared open by Venom's tongue.

"I was looking forward to getting my turn tonight, but it can be arranged, babe." Eddie had said, effectively shutting you up with his wandering hands finding the crotch of your damp panties, the two of you fucking messily on the couch.

Fast forward a couple weeks later, Eddie's lapping at your clit once you've come home from work, two fingers shoved deep into your cunt and massaging your velvety insides. You're mewling and twitching against him, hips jolting in a plea for more. He gets the message, or rather, Venom gets the message.

Pulling away from your sopping folds, black tendrils and ooze engulf Eddie, Venom's hulking figure overtaking your boyfriends as you pant and watch with lust-blown eyes. He's so fucking big, that huge tongue of his especially, making you salivate and reach out to him. Venom growls darkly in return, the sound vibrating against your inner walls as he positions himself between your legs.

His tongue flicks out, tracing along your slit before finally pressing against your entrance. You gasp at the sensation of his hot, wet muscle against your tight flesh, feeling him tease and stretch you open.

"MUST TASTE YOU." Venom declares, before plunging his tongue deep into you, burying it to the hilt. You cry out in pleasure as he begins to move, his thick length sliding in and out of your cunt, his saliva lubricating your walls and mixing with the pool of arousal seeping onto the sheets. The feeling of being filled up by him is unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

As he continues to piston his tongue in and out of you, you can feel every ridge and undulation of that massive tongue as it claims your body for itself, making your thighs shake and burn with how fucking hard he's thrusting into you. Large hands, big enough to crush your head with ease, hold onto your waist, forcing you further into the mattress so that the tip of his tongue can glide against your cervix, while the rest of the fat muscle writhes and drives within you.

You moan loudly, unable to withhold the sound as Venom's spit and slime rolls over your skin, making you shiver with anticipation for what comes next. You can feel his sharp teeth pulsing against your inner thighs, but before you can warn him, he sinks them into your flesh, drawing blood that mixes with his saliva. The sensation is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as he quickly pulls out to lap up the filthy mixture, before his tongue continues its relentless motions in your cunt, hitting all the right spots and driving you wild with lust. As he picks up the pace, you can feel the muscles in your pelvis tighten, milking his tongue for every last drop of pleasure it can give you.

You throw your head back in ecstasy, arching your back off the mattress as Venom's tongue crashes against that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of white-hot pleasure through your entire being. Your nails scrape against the sheets, desperately clawing for purchase as Venom's powerful thrusts push you ever closer to the brink. With a throaty groan, you come undone, your orgasm shaking your entire body as Venom's tongue curls around and massages your inner walls, milking every last drop of your arousal. He continues to lap at you long after you've climaxed, savouring every drop of your essence as it mixes with his spit.

As he finally pulls away, leaving a slick trail of saliva between your legs, you unravel against the mattress, panting heavily as your brain goes to mush.

"Fuck," you gasp out between breaths, "So good- Too good. Better than my imagination. So- so much better."

Venom chuckles darkly at your words before retracting back into Eddie who collapses onto the bed beside you, grinning widely, "Well, now you know."

[desire4ella]

❝ I’ll ruin you for any other man…❞

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Venom x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your nasty alien eats you out…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Spitting,Slut shaming and just down right nasty shi

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 552

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation but here you are splayed across your bed with your big,hunky alien between your legs. His crescent milky, white eyes glared up at you as his monstrous tongue glided teasingly across your plush thighs; his teeth skittered daringly across every perimeter he touched; they were so sharp they could puncture your flesh and paint your skin red at any second, but something about that turned you on- the thought of him purposely nicking your skin to claim you as HIS turned you on to no avail.

You let out a whiny moan as the tip of his tongue swiped across your pulsing nub, groaning in appreciation he used his two hands to grab your thighs to pull you closer to his gaping mouth. “ That’s it baby, moan for me- let the world hear how much of a slut you are for me” he half smirked as you whimpered in response and attempted to close your legs around him, to which he just spreaded your legs wider to allow him to feast upon you with no difficulties. He stopped his sweet abuse on your dripping cunt and stared deep into your eyes “ I want you to be a good girl and use one of your hands to rub your clit while I ravish this aching pussy” without giving you a chance to speak he delved right back into your cunt like a starved man, you let out a long moan in response and snapped your eyes shut as you felt his velvet tongue slide in out of your hole like a piston.

You bit your lip and leaned back into your soft pillows; using your middle finger to rub your clit in fast circles you couldn’t help the sinful moans that were spilling out of your mouth,you began to play with your nipples with your other hand, but that was quickly stopped when he spawned two random tentacle’s and replaced your hand with them, your pussy clenched down hard on his tongue as you felt them tweak and pull at your hardened nipples.

Leaning his head back a bit he gathered up some of your creamy juices and spat it backed onto your puffy lips, he watched it drip down past your fluttering asshole before once again diving back in. You lurched forward in pleasure as you felt your release about to come. He hummed in acknowledgment and sped up his actions,making sure to slither his tongue deep into your pussy so it hits your g spot.

You felt like your body was lit ablaze as you felt tingling sensations all over your body,your eyes rolled to back of your skull and you gripped tightly onto the sheets; the pleasure was all to much, ragged and loud moans were played into the air like sweet tunes.

Rising up from between your thighs you watched as saliva mixed with your delicious nectar dripped from his mouth and unto the clean sheets below you. Leaning close to your face he lowly whispered “I’ll ruin you for any other man” God he was so sexy when he was possessive.

( copy rights to @kyejiz for the divider)

𝐀/𝐍: I know this is a shock but I just wanted to delve into a different fandom since it’s halloween and shi,tell me what y’all think.

© - Ang3l 🎀🧁 my work is not to be published on any other platforms without my consent.

[urdreamydoodles]

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

Marvel Comics Characters Receiving a Dirty Picture from You in Public

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Marc Spector, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa & Elektra Natchios

God, I love Marvel Comics...

Peter Parker aka. Spider-Man

Peter has been through a lot. He’s fought villains, lost people he’s loved, and carried the weight of responsibility since he was a kid. But nothing—not Venom, not Doctor Octopus, not the Green Goblin—has ever hit him as hard as opening his phone and seeing you.

He’s perched upside-down on a fire escape, mid-stakeout with Daredevil, when his phone buzzes. He barely glances at it at first, assuming it’s an update from MJ or the Bugle. But then—his Spidey-Sense misfires. His stomach drops. And suddenly, he’s scrambling so fast that he almost falls off the fire escape.

“...Parker?” Matt’s voice is suspicious, brow furrowing beneath the red mask. Peter clutches his phone like a lifeline, heat rushing to his face, his entire body going rigid. “Uh—nope! Nothing’s wrong! Totally fine! Just, uh—gotta—go!” Before Matt can say another word, Peter web-slings away, heart pounding.

Later, in his apartment, he stares at the image, biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. Then, fumbling with his phone, he types back: You cannot just drop this on me in the middle of a mission. I almost DIED. You’re gonna make it up to me. In person. Immediately.

Tony Stark aka. Iron Man

Tony Stark is always the one making people flustered. He’s the king of inappropriate timing, the grandmaster of chaos. So when you flip the game on him? When you send him something completely indecent while he’s in the middle of a live press conference? Oh, he is in trouble.

He’s mid-sentence, standing in front of a sea of reporters, when his phone vibrates. He glances at it without thinking, because hey, it might be about stock prices or another alien invasion. But no. No, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

He visibly freezes. Blinks. Blanches. Then—his brain blue screens. The entire room stares as Tony suddenly cuts off mid-sentence, clears his throat, and forces a smirk that’s absolutely not covering up a crisis. “Uh—ladies and gentlemen, I think that’s enough questions for today.”

The moment he’s offstage, he stumbles into the nearest private room, yanks at his tie, and pulls out his phone like it holds the meaning of life. He types back immediately: Oh, now you’ve done it, sweetheart. I hope you’re home right now, because I’m on my way, and I’m bringing consequences.

Steve Rogers aka. Captain America

Steve is not a prude. He’s been around, he’s seen things. But there’s something about you—about the way you know exactly how to knock the breath from his lungs—that makes him feel like a kid again.

He’s in the middle of a strategy meeting with Sam and Bucky, his shield leaning against the table, when his phone vibrates. He checks it without thinking, eyes flicking down—and then every muscle in his body tenses. His grip on the phone tightens. His ears burn red.

“You good, Rogers?” Bucky gives him a knowing smirk, because he immediately recognizes that look—Steve flustered beyond belief. Steve clears his throat, hard, locking his phone like it’s offended him. “Fine,” he says, voice a little too even. “Let’s, uh—let’s keep going.”

But later, when he’s alone, he exhales deeply, pressing a hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, with slow deliberation, he types: I hope you know what you just started. Because I don’t break my promises, sweetheart. And I promise—you’re not leaving that bed when I get there.

Thor Odinson aka. God of Thunder

Thor has seen battles, has waged wars across the cosmos, has faced monsters and gods. But when his phone pings—when he sees the absolute sin that you’ve just sent him—he forgets how to breathe.

He is in the middle of the Avengers’ common room, laughing boisterously with Bruce and Natasha, when he pulls out his phone. He expects something simple—a text from his brother, perhaps, or a message from Jane. But instead? Instead, he sees you.

The entire room feels it when Thor’s laughter stops. There is a moment—just a beat of silence—before the lights flicker. The air crackles with static electricity. His fingers twitch around the phone, and then, in a low, very serious voice, he mutters, “By the Norns…”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, but Thor abruptly stands, clearing his throat. “I must depart. Urgently.” Bruce frowns. “What? Why?” Thor barely offers an explanation before storming out of the room, typing furiously: You dare tempt the God of Thunder? Very well, little one. You shall learn what it means to summon a storm.

Loki Laufeyson aka. God of Mischief

Loki is the undisputed master of control. He is calm, composed, always one step ahead of everyone else. But when you send him something so shameless, so brazen, in the middle of an important diplomatic event in Asgard—he nearly drops his goblet of wine.

He’s reclining on his throne, listening to some dull ambassador drone on about trade negotiations, when his phone vibrates. He lifts it lazily, expecting nothing of importance—until he sees you.

His entire body goes rigid. His grip tightens around the goblet, the silver denting beneath his fingers. His green eyes darken, and for the first time in centuries, he feels his pulse stutter. The ambassador keeps talking, oblivious, but Loki? Loki is seething.

Later, in his chambers, he lounges on his bed, turning the phone over in his fingers before smirking. Then, with slow, careful precision, he types: You dare tease the God of Mischief? Oh, darling, you are in such trouble. And you know how much I enjoy trouble.

Clint Barton aka. Hawkeye

Clint Barton is used to chaos. He’s fought alien invasions, taken down crime syndicates, and, most impressively, lived in a house with three dogs and somehow survived. But nothing—not the Avengers, not S.H.I.E.L.D., not even Kate Bishop’s endless sarcasm—could have prepared him for this.

He’s in the middle of a debriefing with Captain America and Black Widow when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it, but boredom gets the better of him. He sneaks a glance, tilting the screen just slightly—and immediately chokes on his coffee.

“Barton?” Natasha’s voice is sharp, her suspicious gaze snapping to him. Steve looks concerned. Clint, on the other hand, is malfunctioning. He quickly locks his phone, pressing it to his thigh like it’s burning him. “Yep. All good. Just… wrong text thread. You know how it is.”

The second he’s alone, he whistles, rubbing a hand down his face before sending a text: You are absolutely trying to kill me, aren’t you? I’m a trained marksman, babe. You know I always hit my target. Hope you’re ready.

Natasha Romanoff aka. Black Widow

Natasha Romanoff is a professional. She’s endured psychological conditioning, trained with the deadliest assassins in the world, and can lie so well that even she forgets what’s real. But when you send her something so utterly filthy, in the middle of a high-stakes poker game with some very dangerous people—she nearly loses her composure.

She’s holding a perfect poker face, one leg crossed over the other, a cigarette between her fingers (purely for effect). Then, her phone buzzes. She never checks her phone during missions, but for some reason, she does this time.

The second she sees the image, her fingers twitch. She almost fumbles her cigarette. Almost. A single slow breath is all that betrays her before she locks the screen and smirks, adjusting her sunglasses to hide the flicker of heat in her gaze.

Later, after she’s won the game (because of course she has), she finally responds: You must be very confident, sending me something like that. I hope you know what happens when I catch my prey, моя любовь (my love). Because I always catch them.

Bucky Barnes aka. Winter Soldier

Bucky is already always on edge. He spent decades being controlled, his mind fractured, his instincts constantly telling him that danger lurks around every corner. But when his phone vibrates in the middle of a mission briefing and he makes the mistake of checking it—he nearly self-destructs.

He’s sitting next to Sam Wilson, arms crossed, trying to focus on the tactical discussion. Then, out of habit, he glances at his phone. And suddenly? His enhanced heartbeat spikes. His grip on the phone tightens, metal fingers creaking.

Sam immediately notices. “Dude. You okay?” Bucky doesn’t answer. He just exhales deeply, jaw clenching, and locks his phone like it’s personally offended him. “Fine,” he mutters, but the way his throat bobs betrays him.

Later, in the privacy of his room, he leans against the wall, pressing his flesh hand over his face before looking at the image again. Then, he types—slow, deliberate, full of promise: You are playing with fire, doll. And you know I don’t burn alone.

Matthew Murdock aka. Daredevil

Matt has learned to control himself. He has to, considering his senses pick up everything. The heartbeat of a liar, the scent of blood, the whisper of fabric against skin. But when he puts in his earpiece during a stakeout with Elektra and hears you—sultry, teasing, wicked—his composure shatters.

Your voice is a purr, warm and full of amusement, as you describe, in explicit detail, exactly what you want to do to him. Every syllable slides into his ear like a sin, and for the first time in years, Matt Murdock forgets how to breathe.

“Murdock.” Elektra’s voice is unimpressed. “Are you even listening?” Matt clenches his jaw, forcing his expression into something neutral as he slowly removes the earpiece. “Yeah,” he lies, his voice way too tight. “Loud and clear.” But his fingers twitch, betraying him.

Later, alone in his apartment, he plays the message again. And again. Until his own heartbeat is thunderous in his ears. Then, with a slow smirk, he records his reply—his voice low, gravelly, barely more than a rasp: Angel, you have no idea what you’ve just done. And I promise—you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Frank Castle aka. The Punisher

Frank Castle does not fluster. He’s a man who’s seen the worst of the world, a soldier who has lost everything. He does not get distracted. But when he’s sitting in the middle of a grimy bar, brooding over a whiskey, and his phone vibrates—everything stops.

He checks it absently, expecting intel from Micro or maybe a warning from Daredevil. But instead, he gets you. And just like that, his grip on the glass tightens. His jaw locks. His entire body tenses, muscles coiled, because you have just sent him something so utterly indecent that he has to set his whiskey down before he crushes the glass.

The bartender notices. “You good, man?” Frank barely glances up, his fingers white-knuckled around his phone. “Fine,” he mutters, voice rough. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and downs the rest of his drink in one go.

Later, in the dead of night, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, before sending a single message: You think you’re real cute, huh? Yeah. Keep that same energy when I get home. See if you’re still smirking when I’ve got my hands on you.

Marc Spector aka. Moon Knight

Marc has lived multiple lives. A mercenary. A vigilante. A fist of vengeance. But the moment his phone vibrates in the middle of a stakeout, and he sees you—he nearly blows his own cover.

He’s perched on a rooftop, watching a weapons deal go down, his mind sharp and focused. Then, out of habit, he checks his phone. His breath hitches. His grip tightens around the device, and he has to physically restrain himself from groaning. Khonshu’s voice rumbles in his mind: "Your mortal desires are distracting, Spector." Marc grits his teeth. "Yeah, no shit."

“Something wrong?” Jake’s voice purrs from inside his head, amused. “She send you something nice, hermano?” Marc rolls his eyes, exhaling sharply before locking his phone. “Mind your damn business.” But his pulse is thundering.

Later, back at his apartment, he leans against the wall, staring at the image before typing: You have no idea what you’ve just done. Hope you’re home. Hope you’re ready.

Johnny Storm aka. Human Torch

Johnny Storm is used to attention. He thrives on it. He’s a celebrity, a hero, a walking flame. But when you send him something scandalous in the middle of a live television interview, even he isn’t ready for it.

He’s laughing, flashing his signature cocky grin at the camera, when his phone buzzes. He checks it without thinking—because hey, it might be Sue yelling at him again—but instead, it’s you. In the filthiest pose imaginable.

Johnny visibly chokes. His entire body tenses. For the first time ever, he forgets what he was saying. The interviewer blinks. “Uh… Johnny?” His brain short-circuits. His face heats—literally. The tips of his ears ignite before he clenches his fists and forces himself to not spontaneously combust on live television.

The second the interview is over, he’s sprinting to his dressing room, slamming the door shut and typing frantically: Ohhh, you are in trouble. You’re really trying to set me on fire, huh? Hope you’re home, babe, ‘cause I’m flying over. Right. Now.

Reed Richards aka. Mister Fantastic

Reed Richards is a genius. His mind is constantly working at speeds beyond human comprehension. But when he’s mid-lecture at a prestigious scientific conference and his phone vibrates—his brilliant mind suddenly goes blank.

He absently checks his phone, half-expecting an alert from the Baxter Building. But instead, it’s you. Wearing almost nothing.

For a solid ten seconds, he is frozen. His eyes slightly widen. His fingers twitch. And then, very slowly, he locks his phone and clears his throat. “Ah—excuse me, esteemed colleagues, but I must—um—attend to an urgent matter.”

Later, he adjusts his glasses, staring at the image with a fascinated, almost scientific appreciation. Then, with methodical precision, he types: You are a very distracting woman. I will be conducting an… in-depth study on you as soon as I return. Expect a thorough examination.

Felicia Hardy aka. Black Cat

Felicia Hardy is a master of seduction. She flusters men for fun. But when she’s in the middle of a high-stakes casino heist, and you send her something utterly indecent, even she loses her composure.

She’s leaning against the bar, sipping an expensive martini, eyes locked on her mark. Then, her phone buzzes. She lazily checks it, expecting an update from her crew. But instead? Instead, she sees you.

Her eyelashes flutter. Her lips part just slightly. And for the first time in years, her poker face cracks. The bartender—oblivious—raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay, miss?” Felicia exhales, smirking as she locks her phone. “Oh, it’s better than okay.”

Later, she lounges on silk sheets, staring at the picture before purring into her phone: You really think you can tease me, kitten? Oh, sweetheart… you just made a very expensive bet. And I never lose.

Stephen Strange aka. Doctor Strange

Stephen Strange is not easily shaken. He’s fought cosmic horrors, bent reality, and wielded power beyond mortal comprehension. But when he’s in the middle of a magical duel with Dormammu, and you send him a sinfully explicit picture—he almost loses.

He’s mid-incantation, floating above the Sanctum’s rooftop, when his phone vibrates. Normally, he’d ignore it—except something in the back of his mind tells him it’s you. He flicks his fingers, glancing at the screen—and immediately regrets it.

His spell stutters. His fingers twitch. The fabric of reality briefly warps. Wong, standing below, yells, “What the hell was that?!” Stephen clenches his jaw, locking his phone immediately before snapping his wrist and repairing the timeline. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Absolutely nothing.”

The moment the battle is over, he retreats into his study, loosening his Cloak, before typing: You dare distract the Sorcerer Supreme? You have no idea what you’ve just unleashed, darling. And I do hope you’re prepared for consequences beyond mortal comprehension.

Namor aka. The Sub-Mariner

Namor is a king. He does not answer to anyone. He has waged war against the surface world, stood against the mightiest heroes, and commands the loyalty of an entire empire. But when he is seated on his throne, discussing politics with his council, and his communicator vibrates—everything else becomes irrelevant.

He glances down, expecting a diplomatic missive. Instead, he is greeted by you—a vision of temptation, captured in a way that only he has the privilege to see. His grip on the communicator tightens, his lips parting slightly. The light of the display reflects in his dark, narrowed eyes.

The council drones on, but Namor hears nothing. His golden gauntlets flex, his knuckles tightening as his jaw sets. A slow, deliberate exhale is all that betrays his reaction. But those closest to him—his most trusted generals—see the flicker of something dangerous in his expression. A storm, barely contained.

Later, as he stands upon his balcony, overlooking the endless ocean, he types a single response: You seek to tempt a king, my love? Then be prepared for the wrath of a god. When next we meet, you will drown in my devotion.

Johnny Blaze aka. Ghost Rider

Johnny Blaze has seen Hell—literally. He has ridden across the desolate highways of damnation, stared into the abyss, and laughed. But when he’s sitting in a biker bar, nursing a whiskey and half-listening to some guy ramble about the Devil, his phone vibrates. And when he checks it—he nearly sets the whole place on fire.

The image of you is burned into his mind, seared into his soul. He sucks in a slow breath through his teeth, his fingers tightening around the glass. His knuckles go white. Somewhere deep inside, the Spirit of Vengeance chuckles.

“Something wrong, Blaze?” One of the other bikers eyes him warily. Johnny forces a smirk, setting his whiskey down before he crushes the glass in his grip. “Nah,” he rasps, his voice a little too rough. “Just realized I got… unfinished business to take care of.”

Later, on his Hellfire-coated bike, he sends a text: You got a real bad habit of making me wanna sin, sweetheart. And I promise—I’ll make sure you repent. Over. And over.

Eddie Brock & Venom aka. Venom

Eddie Brock has been through hell. He’s fought monsters, been one himself, lost everything, and still kept going. But nothing—not a damn thing—could prepare him for the absolute carnage of getting that picture from you in the middle of a crowded subway.

He’s scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, Venom muttering in his head about wanting tater tots, when the image loads. For a solid five seconds, he is completely still. Then—

“Eddie.” Venom’s voice rumbles, amused. “Your mate is very… bold. We approve.” Eddie, red-faced, slams his phone against his chest like that’ll somehow erase what just happened. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes darting around to make sure no one saw. A teenager across from him raises an eyebrow.

Later, when he’s alone, he finally lets himself look at the picture again. A slow, predatory grin spreads across his face as he types back: Oh, you think you’re being cute, huh? Yeah. Just wait till I get my hands on you. Hell, maybe we’ll even let Venom have a little fun, too.

T’Challa aka. Black Panther

T’Challa is a king, a warrior, a legend. His mind is a fortress, his will unshakable. But when he is seated in the royal palace of Wakanda, surrounded by dignitaries, and his Kimoyo Beads alert him to a personal message—his focus wavers.

He allows himself a discreet glance. And in that moment? His heart skips a single beat. His fingers—steady even in the heat of battle—tighten just slightly around his beads. His expression does not change. But to those who know him well—Okoye, Shuri—they notice the subtlest flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

Shuri smirks. “Brother,” she murmurs, leaning in. “You look… distracted.” T’Challa exhales deeply, locking the message with a casual flick of his fingers. “I am merely… anticipating a conversation.”

Later, when he is alone, he reviews the picture once more, fingers grazing his jaw before he types: You are testing my patience, beloved. And you know I am a man of great discipline. But for you? I am willing to break my own rules. Expect me soon.

Elektra Natchios aka. Elektra

Elektra Natchios does not fluster. She has slit the throats of kings, danced on the edge of oblivion, and played cat-and-mouse with death itself. But when she is sharpening her sai on the rooftop of a New York high-rise and her phone buzzes—her grip falters.

The blade nicks her glove. Barely. But it happens. Her lips part in a slow, dangerous smirk as she tilts the phone toward the moonlight, drinking in the absolute audacity of your message.

“Something amusing?” A voice—a rival assassin, lurking in the shadows. Elektra does not answer. She merely tucks her phone away, standing smoothly, her stance lethal. “Yes,” she purrs. “Something… very amusing.”

Later, as she leans against the window of her penthouse, she finally sends a reply: You are so very reckless, my love. And I do enjoy breaking reckless little things.

[c-y-g-m-c-o]

Inhuman looking characters have no right to be so damn fucking hot

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Sweet Like Chocolate (Venom Drabble)

Eddie/Venom x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Venom's enjoys it when you're his host.

CW: fluff, making fun of Eddie

Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

WE ARE NOT A BABY.

You tut and continue about making Venom’s tater tots. It hadn’t really been a genuine thought. It’s just that when you and Eddie trade Venom between you like parents trading a toddler for alone time, it kind of felt that way at times. Not that you were complaining, of course. Any time with Venom piggybacking in your head was time well spent in your own personal opinion. 

It was just a shame that you weren’t a better match. Then he could come around with you more often. But no, that was Eddie’s responsibility, it would seem. 

“I know, V- you know how human brains work. Thoughts just pop in unannounced.” 

I WILL ALLOW IT.

 

You chuckle and pour yourself a glass of wine. A tendril of Venom’s form spreads from your back to put the wine bottle away for you, and you thank him kindly. Checking the timer on the tots, you frown. They were going to be at least another fifteen minutes. 

“What do you want to do tonight, V?” You ask, plopping down on the lounge chair and taking a sip. 

WE WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU. 

You smile softly, and Venom chuckles in your brain in response. That took some getting used to, actually, hearing someone laugh in your mind. But like all things, you acclimated. 

“We’re doing that, buddy,” you reply. 

YOU ARE FAR NICER THAN EDDIE. EDDIE IS MEAN. 

You take another swig of your wine and flick the TV on quietly, flipping through to get to Venom’s favourite channel. 

“How do you mean? Eddie’s a sweetie deep down,” you respond, finally finding the channel and putting the subtitles on for yourself. Eddie was always a sweetie. It was just that he was a bit gruff. Venom grunts. 

EDDIE’S AN ASSHOLE. 

You hear the bathroom door creak open and turn around, seeing Venom’s tendril rooting around in there for something. You don’t question it further than that, knowing that whatever he’s looking for will be found. 

You’re proven correct when the tendril returns with your hairbrush. You dutifully fluff your hair out from the neck of your cardigan for Venom, who hums appreciatively and begins to brush at your hair. 

It’s something he likes to do for you. You’re not sure whether it’s because he enjoys the sensation himself, or whether it’s something he does for you. It could be both, all things considered. Your eyes flutter shut, and you lose yourself in the motions for a few minutes. 

“He can be an ass,” you finally acquiesce. “But he means well.” 

Venom’s head materialises from over your shoulder and faces you. His tendril pauses its ministrations in your hair for a moment, and he appears thoughtful. 

“I suppose,” Venom replies. “We prefer you. Prettier host.” 

You flush pink and brush a hand over Venom’s cheek. Or what would be his cheek, you supposed? 

“You’re a sweet thing, V.” 

Venom nods, ripples of his skin flowing over his form. 

“Like chocolate, yes?” 

You laugh and make to get up when the timer for the tater tots goes off. 

“Like chocolate.”

[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober Day 5: Knotting

EDDIE BROCK X GN! READER X VENOM

SUMMARY: Both you and Eddie still learning things about Venom even in the bedroom. WARNINGS/TAGS: Smut, Rough, Little bit of Eddie, Tongue, Licking, Pain, Knotting

Kinktober Masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Head buried back into a pillow, feeling Eddie's hand continuously glide and grip your body, sweat mixing against pressed skin. Cock buried deep within your walls, unlocking an overflow of moans that echoed in your shared apartment.

Feeling as Eddie's hips grew sloppy, alerting you to the end of the heated night, only to watch as Venom took over. Engulfing your lover, trading Eddie's cock for his own.

Flooded with Venom's cock, sparking every nerve that lined your walls, the euphoric feeling causing your chest to rise and moans to grow in volume.

"Venom, p-please, I can't." You stutter for mercy, but he gives you none. Hearing as the bed thrusts against the wall matching his, both you and the bed threaten to break under Venom's feral hunger. Turned on by his labored breaths, hazily temped to push him back just to suck the alien off.

Having no chances on that plan, feeling as his grip grew stronger, groans growing louder, and hips and thighs pounding into yours, buckling as they do. Keeping a grip of your own on Venom, together building up your climaxes.

Taking no longer as Venom sped up, cracking the wooden headboard and bruising the back of your tights. All the chaos ends with both of you cumming loudly, the bliss overloading your bodies. Venom leaning forward in shock at the first ever feeling of cumming, saliva dripping from his mouth onto your twitching body.

Coming down from the heavenly moment as your body sharply trades it for pain, hearing Venom's groans loudly, painfully putting the pieces together, it all being his doing.

Crying out for Venom, but only hearing his reverberated breathing as his tongue touches down, hot and wet, licking your neck with teeth grazing along, adding to the pool of pain. Hurting to move, you stayed still full of Venom's cum, hoping he wouldn't move either while stuck in you. Knotted together.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

Kinktober Taglist: @shadyloveobject @bimbo-bunni @aoi-targaryen @sophieissleepy @d3k4z-bl00d @reidsbookcase @writtenbyhollywood @hoffmanfan13 @rosecentury @vaexox @akari655 @nct38 @iloveslasher @akneld @jay-cosplay-bin @m-281 @hoffmanfan13 @wh0re4-alexademi @nerdywitchgeek @caffeine-addict3295 @supergingerlocks @ner-dee @chocolqtelle @laurenyas @taylorthetable @f-ckm3hhhg @racco0ngirl13 @fran-soup @hope69world @supersoldierswhxre @erensslut @hotchners-wifey @abyssaloverlord @raajali3 @crustyowos @fly-on-the-wall @nyx2021 @www-interludeshadow-com @nct38 @carolb111 @thays0 @theescorpiolovechile @0banes0 @bibella8swan @ingybobingysblog @lokiiified @asmalls0723 @wonderlandofsilence @lia1521

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝PUSHING THE LIMITS.❞

(not my gif)

summary: eddie might fuck you good, but venom pushes your limits.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, nasty ass smut, surprised-myself-while-writing-it kind of smut, sorta dubcon towards the end, oral sex f and m receiving, sticky tendrils and tentacles and appendages and such, bondage using v's tendrils, hair pulling, spanking, double penetration, eddie spitting in reader's mouth, eddie slaps reader's cheek a lil bit in the beginning, overstimulation central, names like "good girl", "sweet angel", "sweet girl", "beautiful girl"... don't wanna hype myself up too much, but i think y'all are gonna be eating good while reading this one. monsterfucking. i am definitely not getting into heaven, so make my sacrifice worth it and grab some popcorn!

word count: 2k

a/n: if you've ever wanted me to write a sequel for fics like "take the reins" and "don't pretend", this is for you. i can't believe this is my official return to fic writing LMAO, but we're pretending like i never left! (yes i know i posted my last fic in april.) i hope you enjoy, please give me some feedback for this one!

//////

“Gooooood fuckin’ girl.”

You struggled to hide your wince as Eddie harshly slapped your cheek again: you were on your knees, your face raised to look at him as he knelt over you, directing your face in whatever way he wanted it to go. Some parts sweet, some parts rough - whether it was pulling your hair until your cunt twinged with need, or spitting in your mouth when it got too dry for him to fuck, or how fucking good his cock felt when it was shoved into your mouth, you took all of it enthusiastically. 

You hadn’t heard Venom’s commentary in a while, but at least Eddie seemed to be enjoying himself.

“That’s great, honey,” Eddie gasped as he slipped the tip of his cock in your mouth again: you sucked on it dutifully, slathering your spit over his already glistening length, but throughout all of it, your eyes were locked on his face.

He was almost out of breath just from watching you. “Jeez, that’s fuckin’ nasty…”

Overachieving, you responded by taking his whole length into your mouth until the tip of his cock slammed into your uvula and you were forced to gag.

You meant to stay there, but Eddie’s hand was buried in your hair very suddenly, tugging you backward: he evidently hadn’t been expecting that.

“Easy, honey,” he told you. “It’s not every day I got a girl jumping all over me, y’know.”

You sat back on the bed and stuck out your tongue for him, grinning widely. “Sorry.”

Inside his head, Venom scoffed.

PUSSY.

“N-no, don’t be sorry for anything,” Eddie managed to say to you as he allowed his cock into your mouth again, determined to keep Venom at bay inside his thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, just like that…”

Sucking him off until he came had to be the plan, you figured, so you kept going, keeping your tongue flat along his length as he fucked your mouth. His cock was so goddamn thick, and your tongue kept brushing along a prominent vein as you went. The best part was his hand, firm in your hair, ensuring he was using you in whatever way he wanted.

Meanwhile, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.

SHE LOOKS SO GOOD LIKE THIS, EDDIE.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Eddie decided he wanted to move: he was off of you in an instant, but he was grabbing your leg, indicating he wanted you to move with him.

His voice was soft, almost sweet, keeping you wet. “Up, honey, c’mon.”

Breathless, your heart pounding now that there wasn’t a hand in your hair anymore, you got off your knees and, following his direction, rolled over on the bed.

“Shit,” Eddie commented appreciatively, just before he spanked you harshly. “Pop that up for me, honey.”

Grinning sheepishly, you buried your face in the pillow and lifted your stinging ass in the air for him.

“Fuck,” he gasped as the palm of his hand brushed over your pussy - yeah, you already knew you were dripping, and the humiliation of it made you flush. “You always get this wet just having a dick in your mouth?”

“It’s just you,” you mumbled weakly, which earned your another spank.

“Just me, huh?” Eddie replied, mockingly, making your face burn. “Not V? You’re telling me this pretty pussy’s dripping just because of me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he’d spanked you directly on your pussy this time, making you moan weakly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, burying your face in the pillows. You had a feeling that Venom would’ve teased you endlessly if you moaned for him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it when your pussy was already this wet, but God, you’d never been more tempted.

Inside his head, Venom was sounding impressed, but he hadn’t revealed himself yet.

KEEP GOING, EDDIE. YOU WILL BREAK HER.

Keeping your head in the pillow, you spread your legs wider for him, trying to expose as much of your pussy as you could. Spurred on by Venom’s praise, Eddie grinned.

“Fucking glistening,” he laughed, running a finger delicately along your drenched pussy, sending sensitive nerves haywire. “What a pussy. I mean, Jesus…”

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your damp inner thigh, and that simple, two-second touch had your mind speeding out of control with obscenities. No doubt about it, spreading your holes like this turned you on: you could feel your slick running down your inner thighs, and if your brain wasn’t jammed, you would’ve been begging for Eddie for Venom to come out, to finally fuck you.

Breathless with anticipation, you grabbed a fistful of pillows instead and waited patiently, keeping still.

Inside his head, Venom was chomping at the bit, too.

WHEN WILL YOU LET ME OUT, EDDIE?

Just give me a few more minutes, Eddie’s thoughts responded, a bit urgently.

He opted to pretend as though nothing had happened, keeping his control over you.

“Spread your legs more, baby. I want to see how turned on I made you.”

Moaning weakly, you did as he said, spreading your legs to reveal your glistening wet mess of a pussy: you had yet to touch yourself, or do anything to stop the spread of heat in your most sensitive spot, but you felt like if he didn’t touch you soon, you were going to go into cardiac arrest.

You closed your eyes and listen to him move closer.

Eddie’s hands were warm around your thighs, and you could feel him kiss both of your inner thighs - dear god, he’s about to kill you - before he kissed your clit, enveloping it with warmth. 

Everywhere. Oh God.

You gasped weakly. “Oh, Eddie…”

Again, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.

YOU ARE UNRAVELLING HER, EDDIE. KEEP GOING.

“That feel good?” he whispered, kissing you softly again.

Well, fucking obviously: you were clutching the pillows above you with all your might, doing your best not to squirm in pleasure. “Eddie, please…”

You were so fucked out you couldn’t finish that sentence, but Eddie knew what it meant, and Venom did too.

LET ME OUT, EDDIE. YOU KNOW SHE WANTS IT.

“You need V, honey?” Eddie whispered from between your legs: he sensed from the growing warmth in his abdomen that he wouldn’t have control over his body for much longer, so he was determined to savour it for as long as he could.

You nodded weakly, flushed with pleasure - Eddie’s tongue may have been a natural, non-monstrous length, but it was pressed to your clit nonetheless, and it would’ve made anybody come after long enough. “Give him to me.”

That did it: Venom came out with a flourish, enveloping Eddie’s body entirely in black goo until he wasn’t Eddie anymore, but tendrilled and sticky and terrifying and one hundred percent Venom.

You almost came at the sight of him. “Oh, V…”

Venom’s tongue protruded from his mouth, licking clean his impressive row of fangs. His milky white eyes might’ve caused others to cower, but you stared directly into them, breathless. It was fascinating, really, how quickly Eddie had disappeared.

Venom’s voice was a deep purr, deeper than anything you’d ever heard.

DID YOU MISS ME, SWEET ANGEL?

“I did, V,” you gasped as a glittering black tendril snuck up your leg, “God, I - I want you so bad.”

Venom cocked his head to the side, watching you intently, like a predator watching its prey.

I TELL EDDIE THAT ALL THE TIME.

You gasped as the appendage finally breached your cunt, pulsating and sticky, giving you exactly the feeling of fullness you wanted. “Oh, Venom…”

The pillow you were clinging onto was gone in a second, replaced by two tendrils pinning your arms onto the bed. Before you knew it, two other tentacles were wrapping around your ankles, fully restricting your ability to move, and there you were, trapped on the bed as Venom was leering above you, his cock sliding in and out of you.

His pace was relatively slow, but you soaked up every pulsing inch succeeded inside of you, and every now and again, he’d make the tendril twist, bringing you closer to the edge every time.

I DON’T EVER THINK I’VE SEEN YOU THIS WET, SWEET ANGEL.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, your thoughts responded incredulously, but all that came out was a choked, “Ngh!”

You were coming, you knew it, and it still hit you like a fucking freight train: the orgasm rushed through you as blood thundered to your brain, euphoria crashing over you at maximum intensity. Everything welling up inside of you just burst, and nothing had ever been so lovely.

You went deaf for a moment as the only thing you could hear was your heart absolutely pounding and the shrill ringing in your ears, but you knew you were gasping for breath, completely overtaken by this orgasm. You’d never tell Eddie, but it was Venom who knew how to pull orgasms from you like this, and only Venom, his glittering black cock absolutely destroying you from the inside out.

Of course, it was then Venom suddenly decided to slam his cock into you at full force, overstimulating you beautifully.

The confidence in his voice never wavered.

I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE IT, BEAUTIFUL GIRL. I HAVE SEEN YOU TAKE IT.

“Oh, Venom,” you were gasping over and over, but you couldn’t fully hear yourself over the ringing in your ears and the sounds of Venom’s glittering black tendril sliding in and out of your drenched, abused pussy, filling you up to the maximum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He did the pulsating, twisting thing inside of you once again, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head: when he was pinning you down like this, you had nothing to hold onto, it was just you, the cock inside of you, and the threat of this monstrous creature swallowing you whole. “Oh my god, Venom!”

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT EDDIE SEEING THIS, SWEET GIRL?

“Oh, fuck, Venom…” you moaned from underneath him, incoherent now as his cock pistoned in and out of you. You were blathering, but the message was clear: don’t fucking stop!

Venom was smug, now.

HOW DO YOU FEEL KNOWING I CAN TAKE YOU BETTER THAN EDDIE EVER COULD?

“You’re better than Eddie,” you mumbled incoherently as Venom ramped up speed, “Loads better than Eddie, I just - oh fuck - holy shit, V, keep going!”

WILL YOU COME FOR ME, SWEET ANGEL?

Yes, I will, your thoughts responded immediately, but actions spoke louder than words: your second orgasm ripped through you as your legs shook, you were pushed to the point of insanity. This one really took you by surprise compared to the first, but you revelled in it, your vision flashing with white as Venom fucked into you. You could feel your body sinking into the bed despite the restraints, spent, and you almost thought it was over, but–

Venom, of course, didn’t care.

COME FOR ME AGAIN, BEAUTIFUL GIRL.

“V,” you whispered weakly, your entire body damp with sweat from your last orgasm, “I - I don’t think I can, I just came.”

Above you, Venom absolutely snarled, and his tongue slithered down to force your legs even further apart.

WHEN I SAY COME, YOU COME!

A second, bigger tendril sank into your ass this time, and you gasped: you were filled, completely and utterly filled, and God, you’d be lying if it didn’t feel so fucking wonderful.

“I - I’m gonna come,” you blathered, blinking hard as the realization set in: you were about to come faster than you’d ever come in your life. “I - I’m gonna come, V, holy - oh my god-”

The words I’m coming were lost in your throat, but it didn’t matter: in a matter of seconds, you’d came for a third time, and the euphoria this time around was still there, yet with a bitter and harsh edge. Your body was exhausted, but your pussy was drenched, and all Venom knew was to keep fucking going, so–

You were gasping, half-deaf with your vision flashing with white, trying to make peace with the reality that Venom was going to fuck you until you passed out.

[caffeineaddictwriter]

I think that if you were to be dating Eddie that venom would be like your child. I can just see venom switching from Eddie’s body to yours whenever he feels like it. If he’s had an argument with Eddie he’s just like “I WANT TO GO TO MUM”

Sometimes yous don’t even notice when venoms jumped between yous. Just a quick simple goodbye kiss and venoms jumped. So you’ll be half way to work and he’ll make himself known.

Feel like he also refuses to shower with Eddie but Eddie doesn’t like when venoms within you when you go for a bath. Like why does venom get to see you naked.

Also venom is well aware you’ll spoil him. If he wants chocolate you’ll go get some.

Your the fav parent 🫶

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy filming warrior (2011)

[lovelytsunoda]

you've got me under your spell | eddie brock and venom

summary: the then's and now's of halloween in the brock household

pairing: eddie brock x wife!reader (and their son!) x venom

warnings: i've turned eddie brock from a swagless loser to a dilf, venom is loaned to a child as a halloween costume, venom is almost like a second child tbh, implied smut, brief mentions of mental illness and pregnancy-related mental health issues. not to spoil anything at the end but the final section is pretty fucking funny if i do say so myself.

author's note: i have a very delayed last minute addition to my halloween fics for 2024! after flying through all three venom movies in about two days (as someone who doesn't watch marvel movies, might i add), i am pleased (and a little concerned) to annoucne that eddie brock is now my favourite marvel character.

yes, dylan brock is a canon character in the venom comics (or so i have been told) but all this dylan had in common with the canon version is his name.

2010.

she watched fondly from the doorway as eddie picked up the infant, who was currently trying to crawl towards the white pumpkin in the bay window. dylan laughed in his father's arms as eddie spun around before cradling the infant against his chest. he caught his wife's eyes from the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked down at dylan.

"hey kiddo, i think mommy's looking at us."

dylan smiled, wide and toothless, letting out the baby equivalent of a cheer as he looked over at his mother.

"are you guys ready to make the rounds? i promised mrs. chen some baby time." y/n laughed, reaching out to hold her son's small hand in hers.

the streets outside were lit up with fog machines and smiling skeletons, filled with the sounds of kids milling about. it was baby brock's first halloween, and he was dressed appropriately for it in his little pumpkin costume. after attempting to suck on y/n's finger, dylan dropped her hand and busied himself with attempting to trace the tattoos visible on eddie's forearm.

eddie beamed, kissing his wife softly before answering. "we're ready if you are. lead the way, mamas."

y/n had never pictured herself as a mother. in her twenties, when it seemed like settling down was the only thing people her age wanted to do, she was paralyzed with fear, insecurity and a little bit of self-loathing. being inside of her head was a nightmare, and she wasn't even sure she'd make it to thirty.

things had started to change when she met eddie brock.

slowly, she came alive again. she started to want things that she had thought were out of reach. she wanted to get married, have that house and that family and the white picket fence. to know that everything she had done had added up to this moment, and that everything had been worth it.

but she hated being pregnant. for her, growing another human being had been an arduous, terrifying experience. the eight hours of labour she had gone through on the day dylan was born was enough for her to decide that she didn't want more kids, and that she could still have the family she dreamed of with only one child.

she kissed dylan's forehead softly, brushing back his thin baby hair before tucking the small pumpkin hat onto his little head, and over his small ears.

the couple walked down the front steps of their bungalow, one of eddies arms around his wife, and the other holding his son (which was quite the feat, considering that the infant so desperately wanted out of his father's arms. dylan was an active baby, but he was allowed to crawl down the residential street, he would do so at such a pace that the brocks would never get him back.)

at every house they went to there was someone to coo over the littlest brock. eventually, eddie had to drop that arm around his wife so that he could use both hands to hold his son. dylan smiled that wide, gummy smile and laughed and babbled at all of the people that they passed, y/n clutching an almost-full orange bag of candy (she was convinced that some of their neighbours gave out extra candy to the couple, simply to reward them with the hit of caffeine found in chocolate that the new parents would so crave).

as they walked towards mrs. chen's house, dylan finally settled in his fathers arms, eddie looked over at his wife with nothing but reverence and love in his eyes. even carrying a little bit of extra weight around her hips and stomach, her breasts a little fuller and her arms a little chubbier, she was as radiant as she was the day that they got married. he would do anything for her, for his son. his little family.

"eddie, darling." she laughed, turning to face him. "you're staring."

eddie blushed, the rose in his cheeks barely visible in the dark. "uh, no i'm not."

"yes you are." she giggled. "i love you, eddie brock."

"i love you more." eddie beamed, leaning over to kiss her. "i think the little guy is worn out." he spoke softly, nodding towards the baby in his arms. "he's asleep."

"awe." y/n cooed, gently stroking her son's arm with her pointer finger. the sight of eddie holding their son in his arms would never grow old. she was starting a folder of pictures on her laptop of this very thing, as she knew dylan would soon be too big for his father to hold. "he's just like his father. he can go to sleep any time, any where and in any condition."

eddie laughed. "i feel like there was an insult buried in there somewhere."

"i still married you, didn't i?"

2024.

"dylan, if you want to get to eric's on time, you've gotta get going now! his mom's on the way!"

y/n knocked on her son's door, waiting until she heard the disgruntled teenage groan from the other side. satisfied that dylan had been served enough warning, she headed back out into the living room.

she had put eddie in charge of moving the halloween candy from the massive carboard costco boxes to the festive plastic bowls, and he was doing a surprisingly okay job at it.

their life had changed drastically in the years since her husband had begun to share his body with a symbiote. the symbiote had once given dylan nightmares, and she had fielded one too many concerned calls from the school after he had gone around and told all of the other kids that his father was an alien and would eat anybody who was mean to him (although, once eddie and venom had bonded, venom was steadfast in his commitment to eating any bullies that dylan may face) it had taken time, and a lot of home repairs to get used to, but alas, venom now felt like one of the family.

well, more like the cousin you don't want any of your friends to meet. or the alien that your husband is in a strangely homeorotic relationship with.

"i thought venom would have eaten half of those by now." she remarked, leaning over the back of the sofa to rest her head on her husband's shoulder, hands on his chest.

"i made him promise to behave today. i don't want him scaring the little kids." eddie shrugged, turning his had to kiss his wife softly.

"what did you have to give him?"

eddie paused, waiting a beat in order to formulate an answer that wouldn't send his wife into a spiral. in the distance, he heard dylan's bedroom door open and close, and then the fourteen-year-old came bounding into the living room.

"eric's mom is like five minutes away. is it okay if i wait outside?"

keeping her hands on eddie shoulders, y/n straightened, looking over at her son. "no costume?'

she didn't miss the way that eddie's muscles tensed up under her hands, or the way dylan's pinkie finger twitched. neither of them said a word, and when her eyes zeroed in on the full boxes of nestle chocolates, she got her answer.

"edward brock, please tell me that you did not lend your symbiote to our son as a halloween costume!"

dylan's shoulder rippled black over the top of his hunter-green sweatshirt, venom's inky head materializing next to a defeated looking dylan.

"okay, we won't tell you." the symbiote said , turning to face eddie. "you told me that this was okay with mrs. b."

eddie got up from the couch, pointing a finger at the symbiote. "i said no such thing. i said we were never supposed to tell y/n under any circumstances."

"mom, it's only for the night. you let dad have venom year-round!" dylan protested, stuffing his hands in his sweater pockets. "how is this any different?"

y/n stopped and counted to twenty, eyes closed before she breathed deeply and opened them again.

"that's because your father is the one who brought venom into this house in the first place, and i didn't get a say in the matter. also, your father is an adult, and venom actually listens to him."

"i listen to nobody!"

eddie coughed. "actually, he doesn't listen to me at all. he does what he wants half of the time."

"not the point, eddie! hosting venom almost killed you."

"actually- "

"not now vee!" eddie and y/n shouted together.

eddie reached for his wife's hand, knowing that she needed something to ground her, something tangible that she could hold on to. his hand was warm and calloused, comforting. she ran her thumb over eddie's knuckles as he stepped closer, dropping his voice in the hopes that dylan and venom wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.

"y/n, you know that i wouldn't let dylan take venom out if i didn't think he could handle it. its just one night."

"eddie, venom eats people. i don't want to get calls from parents stating that their sons hung out with my son, and then they came back headless."

"he has sworn to be on his best behavior tonight." eddie insisted. "and besides, when was the last time we had a night that was just the two of us? no dylan, no venom."

she paused, trying to think, the calm was starting to ease back into her body, the initial panic subsiding. her husband was right, she knew. while nights without dylan had become more common the older he got, with the boy staying over at friend's houses or going out late with his buddies, having a husband who hosted an alien sometimes put a damper on date night.

for the past five years, she had felt like she was in a never-ending threesome. don't get her wrong, the sex was absolutely phenomenal, but she missed her husband. she missed the days when it was just the two of them, curled up in bed on a sunday afternoon, with reruns of a bad sitcom playing in the background as they made love without a care in the world.

she realized that she was excited at the idea of having sex with her husband without an alien tentacle trying to slip into her ass (which felt absolutely incredible, by the way. after the first time venom did that, she downloaded all the monsterfucking books she could find on kindle unlimited. trying to explain the plot of ice planet barbarians to eddie had been quite the spectacle).

a honk in the front driveway snapped her out of her thoughts. dylan was looking at her expectantly, venom's head still hovering in the air next to him. if it were possible for symbiotes to give puppy dog eyes, she was sure that venom would be doing so. she looked at eddie, and then back at dylan, weighing her options.

"fine. dylan, you can take venom with you."

venom and dylan gave a cheer, the teen high-fiving one of venom's slinky tentacles.

"i promise not to eat any of the children, mrs. b. only gourmet chocolate. dylan says tonight is the best night for it."

"go on." y/n laughed. "don't keep eric waiting. and be careful!"

eddie and y/n stood by the front window, eddie's hand in her back pocket as they watched dylan run down the driveway and jump into the back of eric's mom's nissan. he had grown up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he was an infant in a pumpkin costume, cradled in eddie's strong arms. now he was almost as tall as his father.

y/n let out a small yelp as she felt herself become weightless, her husband's strong, beefy arms wrapped around her thighs.

"baby, be careful! you aren't as strong without venom! i don't want you to hurt your back!"

"i'll be fine! we have a heating pad for a reason!"

the headed down the hallway in a cloud of giggles, eddie kicking the bedroom door closed behind them with a cheeky grin on his face.

oh yeah, they were going to enjoy every second of having the house to themselves.

____

it was nearing midnight when dylan brock came home, shocked to find his father in the living room, sitting on the sofa in the dark and wincing every time he moved.

"dad? what are you doing? where's mom?"

eddie groaned, trying not to move too much. the heating pad rested against his lower back, and any movement sent a sharp pain up his spine. "she's asleep. tired out."

dylan made a face, dropping his backpack next to the couch. "god damn it, dad! i don't need to know that!"

eddie chuckled. "not like that." well, sort of like that. "this week has been hard on her. between you, me and venom, she's got her hands full."

"what's the heating pad for?" dylan crossed his arms over his chest, staring his father down.

"i hurt my back. it's nothing, not important."

"oh my god! you hurt your back banging mom!"

"dylan, keep your voice down! your mother is sleeping!" eddie scolded, screwing his eyes shut. "and she doesn't know. there is nothing less sexy than pinching something in your back while-"

"stop. please. i don't want to know."

"anyways, i waited until she fell asleep to put some muscle spray on it, and that didn't help, so here i am with the heating pad. how was your night?"

"it was good. venom's fun. we went trick-or-treating around eric's neigbourhood, where all the fancy houses are. also, i think i know what possum brain tastes like." dylan scrunched up his face. "venom decided he'd eaten enough snickers bars."

"snickers are for the weak." venom grunted. "real men eat brains."

eddie laughed. "now you know what the inside of my head is like. at least venom didn't try to eat any people. i wish i never knew what grey matter tasted like."

dylan extended his hand. "it's been fun, but i think he wants his host back."

eddie took dylan's hand in his, inhaling as he felt venom fill his veins once more, the familiar voice he'd come to tolerate returning to the back of his mind. slowly, the stinging pain in his lower back started to subside, the symbiote healing him from the inside out.

"thanks buddy. i needed that." he sighed. "and thanks for looking after dylan."

"no problem, eddie. you know, you'd get hurt less around the house if you stopped doing silly things when i'm not here."

"hey dylan, do you want the symbiote back?"

dylan laughed, heading to his room. "not a chance, dad. you're the only person in the world who could handle him."

[fairy-angel222]

I’m gonna regret posting this but 😭

Venom! Toji who smirks when he and Venom first share you. The symbiote’s deep voice ringing through the room when he asks, “Think she can take us both?”

“Of course she can, my girl’s greedy enough.”

Fucking into you while the symbiote’s tongue slithers in alongside his cock. Both of them finding a steady pace to pound you deep. The roughness of Toji’s cock on your g spot accompanied by Venom’s slimy tongue kissing your cervix sweetly.

Venom! Toji letting you ride his face, no, Venom’s face when you’re needy. Grinding your hips atop of the long tongue which hit all your spots perfectly. Your head falling back in a loud cry when he starts moving it against your walls, feeling yourself being brought closer and closer to orgasm.

Venom! Toji who has the symbiote extend multiple tentacle like arms to attack each part of your body. Your arms being bound above your head as two of them swirl independently around your sensitive nipples, another one circling your clit as Toji fucks into you meanly.

Venom! Toji who wakes you up to Venom’s fat tongue licking long stripes up your slit. Lapping sloppily between your folds as his tongue covered your entire pussy. Easily allowing it to taste all of you at once.

Venom! Toji who teams up with the symbiote to tease you in public. Allowing Venom to extend a long unnoticeable arm under the restaurant table to slip under your skirt. Smirking widely at your lack of underwear. He flicks at your clit, swirling before dipping into your aching pussy. Finding a continuous pattern of rubbing you to the edge only to pull away after. Enjoying the tears that pooled in your eyes at the torture.

Venom! Toji who sometimes plays good cop bad cop with you. When he and the symbiote aren’t both degrading you or praising you. It’s him doing the sweet talk while Venom does the dirty. Each of them at one of your ears driving your mind foggy as they pound into you.

Venom! Toji who never leaves you without pleasure. Even when you’re sucking his cock, he has Venom kissing sweetly at your sopping pussy. Licking messily as your constantly flowing slick while groaning at the sweet taste.

Venom! Toji who eats you out so much that Venom had first begged him for a taste of you. And when he got it, he was addicted. Always wanting to latch onto your pussy at any given chance. It was one of the things he craved. And the first time he made you cum, he was determined to do it again and again. Finding pride in how messy he made you just from his tongue.

Venom! Toji who allows Venom to take care of you when he’s busy doing work. Sat at his computer while you’re next to him with your panties stuffed past your lips. Muffled mewls and whimpers filling the room as the long tongue curls into you.