Eddie briefly recalls some tentacle porn he’d watched just before Venom became a part of him. The copious vines holding her up and entering her every opening simultaneously. Fluids, from her or the monster who could tell, leaking from her mouth and pussy and ass. Oh, Eddie. Venom’s thought shook him, definitely not wanting to take their tongue out his mouth, How’d you keep this from us? Eddie had to be completely honest… he had absolutely no idea how he did either. ~ That good good tentacle fuckin' that Eddie so desperately wanted.

This might as well happen, right? Get possessed by an alien parasite, save the world, get fucked by an alien parasite… it’s all in the same vein. It’s not like this is any more fucked up than the rest of it.

EDDIE. “Yeah?” STOP TALKING. A buzz of dangerous excitement lights up Eddie’s nervous system like a whole damn Christmas tree, like the hum of a neon sign in the quiet rain, the fear of a lightning strike eclipsed by awe for the subliminal, earthly tremor of thunder’s echo. He smirks, lazy. “Make me.” When Venom purrs, the vibration radiates through his veins, his muscles and bones, his pores, the chambers of his heart, as if a satisfied lion were not merely sitting on his chest but residing in his ribcage.   OR: Venom thinks "me time" is "we time." OR: Does it count as masturbation when your symbiote gets you off? OR: Teaching sex ed to your symbiote.