princess

It was past midnight when Eddie’s phone buzzed. He was lying on the couch, the TV still on but muted, the flickering light casting soft shadows over his bare chest. His sweats rode low on his hips, he had a hand resting lazily over his stomach, he wasn’t asleep, not really, just…drifting, letting his mind go blank, trying not to think about you, but failing miserably at it.

His cock had been half-hard all day, twitching at nothing, at the memory of your body. He hadn’t even tried jerking off, not without you, not without that look in your eyes when you took him in your mouth like it belonged to you.

You were out of town on a work trip that felt more like a punishment the longer he stayed alone in that bed, everything smelled like you, but felt empty.

The phone buzzed again, this time louder. He squinted at the screen and immediately sat up like he’d been electrocuted. You’d sent a photo… a nude. It took a second for his brain to catch up with his eyes.

“OH MY GOD,” Venom screamed on full volume, rattling around in Eddie’s skull. “BLESSED BE TECHNOLOGY. WE ARE GRATEFUL TO THE DIGITAL GODS.”

Eddie couldn’t even answer, couldn’t speak. His mouth went bone-dry as his eyes locked onto the screen like it held the secrets of the universe. You were laid out on a hotel bed, topless, the sheets a mess beneath you, your perfect tits on display, nipples hard and aching. You had one hand between your thighs, your fingers slick and glistening.

“Shhhit,” Eddie muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

His cock twitched instantly, half-hard, painfully straining against his boxers, already leaking, a fat bead soaking through the fabric. He was pushing his waistband down before the thought even registered because it fucking hurt to keep his pants on, like his cock was pissed to be contained. He shoved his sweats down, not bothering to untie the waistband. His boxers got shoved under his balls, catching on the base of his cock, and then his length slapped hard against his stomach with a wet sound.

Pre-cum smeared across his abs, a slick trail that glistened as he looked down. His member jumped in his hand the moment he wrapped his fingers around it. The head was glossy, flushed a deep red, and when the air hit him, he shuddered.

No time to think, no time to breathe, just stroke, just fucking relief. He moved his fist slowly at first, squeezing just under the head, milking the sensitive ridge.

“ASK FOR MORE. SEND HER A PICTURE OF OUR DICK.” Venom snarled in Eddie’s head.

He sat forward, still holding the phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. His chest rose and fell too fast, he could feel the blood rushing between his legs, the ache already blooming.

He typed:

You trying to kill me?

You replied instantly:

That depends Is it working?

Fucking yes it’s working Eddie hissed to himself, licking his lips.

He sucked in a breath, dropped his eyes again to the screen… to your picture.

“Look at her,” Venom purred. “She’s so wet. Because of us. She wants you to stroke it. Do it, Eddie.”

He curled his fingers around the base of his cock, like he was trying to hold back a dam ready to burst. He jerked his hips without permission as he fisted himself in one slow stroke, dragging his palm over the slick, pulsing head, smearing the hot pre-cum across his fist.

“She’s gonna make you cum with a fucking selfie,” Venom said, his voice almost giddy. “You pathetic, desperate man. You’d hump the couch if she told you to.”

Eddie didn’t even argue, he just moaned as he typed again, slower this time:

You touching yourself right now?

Your reply came right after:

Only if u are

“WE ARE. WE ABSOLUTELY ARE.” Venom purred in Eddie’s mind.

Your next message read:

Wrap ur hand around it Slow first I want u to describe it for me

Eddie rushed to reply:

It’s hard baby So fucking hard I’m stroking like you said Feels good but not enough without you

He groaned again, and the couch creaked as he leaned back further, spreading his legs wider, like he needed space just to handle how fucking hard he was. His cock twitched in his fist, pulsing with every pump of his hand. He stroked up slow, cruelly slow, just to feel every bit of the burn, every clench in his abs as he edged himself again.

You’re driving me crazy My hand isn’t you It’s not your mouth Not your pussy.

You typed slower now, savoring it:

Grip tighter and stroke all the way down then squeeze the head. Imagine I’m on my knees in front of u looking up at ur face

He dropped his head back on the cushion, and then he let himself imagine it. Your mouth licking across the head, teasing his slit with the flat of your tongue, tasting him while you looked up with that smug, sinful expression like you knew he was about to lose it. He could see it, you kneeling between his legs, taking him slow, wrapping your lips around the tip, stroking with your hand what your mouth couldn’t reach, you’d moan around him just to feel the way he jumped on your tongue.

Fuckfuckfuck baby I can see it I’m dripping already Everywhere My hand’s a mess.

He grunted, jerking his hips, his grip faltering from how slick he was. He worked his hand faster now. His mind raced, picturing you dropping down on his cock, inch by inch, taking him deep, so deep you fluttered your eyes shut, your mouth going slack around a moan when he bottomed out.

Venom snarled in his head, practically writhing with amusement. “WE’RE GONNA CUM THINKING ABOUT HER PUSSY AND SHE’S NOT EVEN HERE.”

Shit baby I’m close Say something Tell me what to do

Don’t cum until I say Edge yourself for me

His phone buzzed again. A video this time. You, laid out like a fucking fantasy, your skin flushed, gliding your fingers over your slick cunt, teasing your clit in slow circles, rolling your hips in these lazy movements. And the sounds… your moans were so soft, breathless, just barely audible through the speakers, but filthy enough to make his cock jump in his hand like it wanted to crawl through the screen.

He fumbled his cock in his hand. “Fuck, baby. Fuck.”

“Zoom. ZOOM. Enhance. Again. Again. AGAIN.” Venom was practically vibrating in his skull, like a rabid animal clawing to get closer, to get in. “I WANT TO BE IN THE PHONE. LET ME IN THE PHONE.”

He hit replay. Again. And again. And again. Every second was burned into his brain, the way your thighs trembled, your brows pinched, that breathless little “fuck” you whispered when your fingers pressed in deeper. The way your other hand cupped your breast, your nails grazing your nipple.

Please, baby Please let me I can’t hold it anymore.

The sounds you made played on a loop in his head. Your breathy whines, the wet suck of your fingers working your cunt, fuck, he could hear how soaked you were, and it only made him tighten his grip on his cock. Eddie was barely hanging on.

Alright Stroke for me, baby Fast. Don’t hold back. I want u to cum hard for me

He arched his back off the couch like he’d been electrocuted. “F-Fuck—” he jerked his hips uncontrollably as his cock throbbed in his hand. Soon, warm and sticky streaks painted up his stomach in white. He quivered, hitching his breath. He was cumming so hard it felt like a punishment.

After he came back down from his climax, silence followed, just the flickering from the TV, the rise and fall of his breath, and the ghost of your moans still echoing in his head.

Then, another message.

Ur turn Show me the mess I’m missing

Eddie stared at the message like it might combust in his hand. He was still half-sprawled on the couch, with sticky fingers, his cock twitching even after he’d already cum, but already starting to harden again.

“CAMERA. CAMERA. TURN ON THE CAMERA—”

He wiped his hand on his pants and typed:

You really want to see?

You replied:

Yes I showed u so now u gotta show me

“YES. YES. WE ARE SENDING A VIDEO. SEVERAL. PERHAPS A LIVE STREAM.”

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed.

“NO. YOU SHUT UP. SHE ASKED. WE OBEY. NO TIME FOR BITCHING NOW.”

Eddie blew out a shaky breath and looked down at himself. His cock pulsed, dragging across the sticky mess cooling on his abdomen. He was hard again at just the idea of you watching him, of your eyes on his hand. He grabbed his phone, flipping the camera to record.

“SHOW HER. SHOW HER THE COCK.”

At first, he just filmed the aftermath, just his stomach slick with cum, his muscles taut, barely recovering. The camera picked up everything: the way he clenched his abs, the jumping of his cock when he drifted his fingers lower. He smeared his release slowly, dragging the mess over the flushed head of his cock, playing in the slick, making it wetter, coating himself in the evidence of just how badly he needed you.

The words slipped out before he could think. “You watching, baby?” he whispered into the phone. “You like this? Like seeing what you did to me?”

“Yes, Eddie. Show her. Stroke it for her. Show her what she did.” Venom said out loud.

He angled the camera with one hand, as he worked his cock with pressure, curling his fingers tightly around the base, dragging upward with just enough friction to make his hips twitch in response.

“Fucking ruined me. You didn’t even touch me, and I came for you.”

Then he tilted the camera lower, just enough to give you the full and obscene view: The thick veins running along his shaft, the way his hand glided, already shiny with cum, the steady roll of his hips lifting off the couch, chasing more pressure, more contact, more of you.

“GOOD ANGLE. YES. SHOW HER THE VEIN.”

“Shut up, V.”

He dragged his thumb slowly across the angry, swollen head of his cock, smearing the last slick bead of cum in with a shuddering breath, then squeezed tighter near the base, just enough to make his hips buck with the pressure.

“I came so hard thinking about you,” he breathed. “And I’m still fucking hard. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

“Of course, our little temptress will help us.”

“You want more? Want me to cum again just for you?”

The screen shook slightly with each thrust of his hips, his thighs tensed and spread wider, grounding him as he rutted up into his hand, the veins standing out in his arms as he tried to hold himself back, to give you a show instead of just giving in.

Then he whispered. “You make me so fucking hard. Wish it was your hand.” Another breath. Another stroke. “Wish it was your mouth. Want you to see what you do to me. Want you to ache for it.”

Sent.

Immediately regretted it. His cheeks were flushed, still warm with arousal and shame, his chest still rising and falling in uneven, post-orgasmic gulps.

“Fuck me,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I filmed that. I—what the fuck is wrong with me. That was so embarrassing.”

“YOU WERE PERFECT. A TRUE SPECIMEN. YOU SHOULD HAVE SENT MORE. ANGLES, CLOSE-UPS, PERHAPS A LITTLE FLEXING—”

Eddie just lay there, arm flung over his eyes, lips parted. “You think she liked it?”

“SHE’S PROBABLY DEAD. OR SCREAMING. OR DEAD AND SCREAMING.”

Not even a full minute passed. Then:

Holy fuck Eddie U look so hot I wish I could lick it off u All that mess for me?

Eddie replied:

Always for you Fuck I can’t stop thinking about you riding me

You:

I wish I could ride you right now Sit on ur cock and make u beg

Another photo, this time your fingers between your legs, two of them disappearing into your soaked pussy, glistening in the dim light.

I’m so wet looking at ur cock Please send a video cumming And be loud for me

Eddie hit record again and he stroked himself slowly, teasing, dragging his hand up and down his slick cock with languid precision, groaning out your name like you were right there, kneeling between his spread legs.

“Fuck, baby… I miss you. I miss this. I wanna be inside you so bad—”

“Angle down. No, lower. LOWER. We are showing her the main event, not your sad couch.” Venom instructed.  “Groan louder. She wants the sound. Don’t be a coward, Eddie.”

He didn’t even make it thirty seconds. The orgasm ripped through him without warning, a guttural gasp left his chest, then a deep, broken moan as he bucked his hips up hard, spilling cum across his stomach in thick pulses.

“Fucking—oh my God—baby—”

He cried out your name again and again, as his body shook with the force of it. The camera caught everything, from the twitch of his cock, to the way his cum shot out of him, making another mess on his stomach.

Your reply came a few minutes later:

Fuck it looks so good baby Came so hard watching it

“YES! WE MADE HER CUM,” Venom roared in triumph.

Eddie groaned, still catching his breath, lying flat on the couch like he’d been flattened by a truck. His stomach was a mess, and his right hand was still sticky. He could barely move.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, scrubbing his clean hand down his face. “We? You didn’t do shit.”

“I was the artistic director of your little film,” Venom said smugly. “YOU THINK YOU CAME UP WITH THOSE ANGLES? THAT FLEX? THAT DRAMATIC SHOT OF THE CUM DRIPPING DOWN YOUR STOMACH? NO. ME.”

Eddie ignored him and just stared at the screen for a long time. Then typed:

You win I’m officially ruined

You replied a second later:

Good Now go to sleep baby. See u tomorrow

Eddie had his arm heavy around your waist as you curled against him in bed, splaying his fingers protectively over your hip like he never wanted to let go. Venom’s head was hovering next to the two of you, focused on the movie you were watching on Eddie’s laptop, and on the chocolate chip cookies you’d baked the night before.

“Missed you so fucking much,” Eddie mumbled into your hair.

You laughed into his shoulder. “You said that like twenty times already since I arrived.”

“We missed you. He is pathetic without you. Always whining. Always hard.”

You snorted, shoving Eddie back just enough to see his flushed face. “Venom, stop tattling on him already.”

“We tell the truth.”

Eddie groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Don’t encourage him.”

“I got back less than twenty-four hours ago and you two are already fighting for my attention,” you teased, grabbing another cookie from the plate over the nightstand. The black, viscous mass of Venom’s face slithered up your side, pressing against your skin. His toothy grin widened, his long, slimy tongue flicked out, darting toward your shoulder with playful hunger.

“COOKIE. GIVE ME.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Venom chomped down the cookie, curling his tongue around the crumbs. He let out a pleased growl, almost like a cat purring, before immediately demanding:

“MORE.”

Eddie threw his hands up. “Hey, hey, they’re not all for you, buddy! I get a few too!”

You bit back a grin, breaking a cookie in half and offering both sides, one to Eddie, one to Venom. “No fighting. I baked enough for both of you.”

Venom crunched his half in one terrifying bite, while Eddie lingered, chewing slowly.

“God,” Eddie sighed, licking chocolate off his thumb. “Marry me.”

Venom immediately snarled. “NO. She marries us. Not just you. We are a package.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth to stop cookie crumbs from flying, but only a few minutes later, you were kissing Eddie’s shoulder, then lower, pressing kisses along the slope of his chest until he chuckled.

“What’s that about?” he murmured.

You bit your lip and nosed at the dip between his ribs. “Well, I missed you, too.”

“That’s code for I’m horny, Eddie.” Venom clarified with an amused grin. “She needs our attention.”

You rolled your eyes at Venom’s remark, even though he wasn’t wrong. Yesterday had left you utterly drained from your trip, all you’d managed was to bake the cookies as a little surprise for them before collapsing into bed early. Days had passed since you and Eddie had last been together, and the dry spell was starting to ache. You needed him. Needed him more than ever.

“Eddie, can I ask you something?”

He twitched his brows. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You hesitated for just a beat, and then, almost like a dam breaking, the words spilt out, it was the confession of a fantasy that had been simmering in your mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought about me… like… fingering you?”

There was a beat of silence, and then you felt the way Eddie stiffened, how he froze his hand on your waist, and the tension rippling across his abdomen as he opened his eyes wider than they had been all day.

“Uh… what?”

Venom, unhelpfully, laughed. “She wants to touch your ass, Eddie. Don’t be a pussy and let her. I’m curious too.”

“Venom… don’t. Not now.” Eddie said, pointing a finger at the floating head.

You leaned up on your elbow, watching him with calm patience. “It’s not a big deal if the answer’s no. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

Eddie blinked up at the ceiling, clearly struggling. “You—you mean, like… actually in?”

You raised a brow, biting your lip. “I mean you on your stomach. Me with lube. My fingers. Your ass. Yes. But only if you want it. Only if you’re curious.”

He swallowed, bobbing his Adam’s apple, a rosy flush was already creeping up his neck, and it was spreading fast all over his face. His cheeks were flushed too, and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

“Have you… done that before?” he glanced at you nervously.

You smiled. “Not really.”

Venom was already losing his damn mind, screaming inside Eddie’s head. “YES. YES. WE’LL DO IT, LITTLE TEMPTRESS. EDDIE, YOU’RE CURIOUS. YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN CURIOUS. EDDIE, SUBMIT TO HER.”

“V, it’s Eddie’s choice. Let’s not pressure him.” You said gently to the symbiote.

Eddie made a strangled noise, covering his face with one hand, he was blushing so hard it looked like he was being set on fire. “God, baby… You can’t just say that like it’s nothing—fuck.” But then softer: “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I trust you.”

You felt the fluttering of your heart inside you, like your chest was blooming just from hearing those words. “Yeah?” you whispered, kissing his jaw. “You trust me?”

Eddie nodded once. “Yeah. I do.”

You kissed him again, deeper this time, sliding your hands down his chest, tracing with your fingers the faint trail of hair down to where he was already starting to harden under his pants. His cock twitched under your touch, half-hard and growing fast. Eddie lifted his hips to help you slide his pants and underwear down, before wrapping your fingers around him. You stroked slowly, lovingly, the way he liked it, and he gasped against your mouth, relaxing under your touch, his nerves giving way to need.

“You’re so good for me,” you murmured. “So fucking sexy.”

You kept your strokes slow, using your free hand to slick up your fingers with lube from the nightstand, that one you'd brought to his place a few weeks ago, just in case one day you might need it. The scent of the lube drifted between you. Eddie looked surprised but also flustered, groaning as you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Tell me if anything hurts and I’ll stop.”

He nodded again, this time quicker. “I—I will. Promise.”

You kissed his neck, then trailed lower, exploring his chest with your mouth. You traced the curve beneath his pec with your tongue, feeling him shudder, his nipples hardening under the brush of your breath. You coated your fingers generously and reached between his legs, past his balls, slowly circling his entrance with featherlight pressure, just shallow touches at first, watching his muscles twitch and his breath catch, you didn't want to overwhelm him.

Eddie would be lying if he said he’d never wondered what it would feel like, but the sex he’d had up until now had been vanilla at best. Missionary. Lights off. Fifteen minutes. Done. Over. Safe. He’d never imagined he’d find himself here, trembling, completely unprepared for this kind of touch.

“You good?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Just… go slow.”

Venom was vibrating with anticipation as he kept his eyes on both of you. “RELAX, EDDIE. SHE’S GOING TO MAKE YOU SEE THE UNIVERSE.”

“V, give me a hand with this.” You whispered, curling your lips into a wicked smile. “Stroke him for me.”

Venom didn’t need to be told twice. He slithered down a slick tendril, wrapping it around Eddie’s cock with precision. He pumped him in perfect rhythm, making Eddie let out a guttural noise you’d never heard before.

You waited for him to relax, for the tension in his thighs to ease, and then you gently pressed forward, just the very tip of your finger, just soft pressure, barely there. He moaned when your fingertip slipped past the tight ring of muscle. It was a high-pitched, surprised noise, like it had been torn out of him, he curled his toes and arched his back off the bed involuntarily.

“Still okay?” you asked gently.

“Y-Yeah. Just new.”

“RELAX YOUR ASS, EDDIE.”

His hole clung tight around your finger, fluttering as you eased it in deeper, and the heat of him wrapped around you in a way that made your own breath hitch.

It felt strange, not in a bad way, just new, intense, and overwhelming. Not painful, you were so gentle, teasing him, moving your fingers just right, and the way you looked at him with that burning mix of desire and tenderness in your eyes made him relax and melt into your touch.

“Shit—that’s weird.”

Venom hummed encouragingly. “Weird and good. Keep going.”

You smiled against his skin. “Want more?”

He nodded shakily. “Yeah—fuck, yeah.”

You hummed, smiling, leaning down to kiss his lips as you worked your finger deeper. You kissed him until he sighed into your mouth, until his body relaxed under the weight of your affection. When you pressed deeper, just a little, he moaned like it was pulled from somewhere deep. You could feel him clenching around your finger, and the vulnerability in it made your chest ache with how much you adored him.

As the tight walls of his ass began to stretch around your finger, a shiver ran through him, every nerve ending was pulsing with a type of filthy pleasure he’d never known. This new and forbidden sensation was starting to feel fucking amazing, every movement of your hand was drawing out heat until it pooled in the pit of his stomach.

His hole was loosening now, and you could glide your finger deeper with every wet slide, feeling the trembling of his thighs from the effort of holding still. You moved gently, curling your finger just a little, watching how his hips twitched, and the way his cock leaked pre-cum on Venom’s tendril as you began to really finger him, still trying to keep your thrusts slow.

“Eddie. Eddie. She’s fingering you. YOU'RE GETTING FINGERED. And you like it. You little slut.”

You chuckled at Venom’s words, but instantly kissed Eddie’s temple, trying to calm him down. “You’re doing so good. You look gorgeous like this, baby. Taking it so well.”

He whimpered, tensing and trembling under your touch. Sweat started to bead at his hairline, he parted his lips, and they looked a dark pink from how often he’d been biting them.

“OH MY GOD. I DIDN’T KNOW IT COULD LOOK LIKE THAT. EDDIE. I’M PROUD OF YOU. DO YOU FEEL POWERFUL? DO YOU FEEL ALIVE?”

You leaned closer. “Do you want another one, baby? Want me to stretch you open a little more?”

He fluttered his eyes open, and nodded without hesitation. “Yeah… fuck—give me another. I can take it.”

"LOOK WHO'S A BIG, GREEDY BOY NOW," Venom pumped him steadily with his tendril, sliding up to the tip then back down, coating his cock in more of his arousal.

The sound you made was low and pleased as you pulled your finger out just enough to coat a second one in lube. Then you pressed both against his rim, circling gently so you could give him some time to breathe before slowly working them in. The stretch was deliciously obscene, you slid the second finger in beside the first with a wet squelch.

“Oh fuck—fuck. Oh God.” Eddie whimpered, digging his fingers into the mattress.

“Feels good like this?” you whispered full of desire. You’d never seen a guy as needy as Eddie, and you loved every bit of it. “God, you’re so tight, Eddie.”

“So sensitive,” Venom purred. “Such a perfect boy… ours.”

You worked the two fingers inside him with steady thrusts, curling them just a bit each time, rotating and scissoring them inside his tight heat.

You leaned down, pressing kisses along his shoulder, brushing your lips against his ear as you whispered, “You like that, don’t you? Feeling me inside you…”

“F-fuck… yeah… too much—” Eddie moaned, drawing up his knees slightly as his body adjusted. You could hear the lube-slick sounds of your fingers working him open, and the wet sounds of Venom working his pre-cum-covered cock.

You crooked your fingers just right until you felt him clench hard around you, pressing against his sweet spot, making him gasp loudly.

“Fuckfuckfuck—what the hell was that?”

You grinned, thrilled. He looked so fucking cute. “That’s your prostate, sweetheart.”

His breath came faster. “No one’s ever—fuck, fuck, keep—keep doing that, oh fuck—”

You did. Again and again, fucking him with your fingers as he writhed under you, sweating and moaning and falling apart.

Venom slid his appendage upward, pressing against the underside of his shaft, twisting gently as it moved. It slid up with teasing pressure, then slid down, lightly brushing the tip. It pulsed in a smooth, steady motion, jerking him slightly, circling the head lightly, then gripping the shaft with a wet, slick grip.

You watched his thighs start to shake, his abs trembling with tension, his cock jumping with every stroke. Eddie was trembling beneath you, completely undone, torn between embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure. His legs were spread wide for you now, no resistance left, just raw need.

“Fucking—gonna cum, baby,” he panted, hips starting to roll.

You leaned over him, breathing against his lips. “Then cum for me. Let go.”

“We like you like this… restrained, desperate… begging for release.”

Eddie’s breathing grew uneven. “Oh—oh God… you two… don’t—stop—please…”

You mirrored Venom’s pace with your fingers, curling inside his ass just enough to make him gasp. The combination of your firm touch and Venom’s rhythmic stroking was driving him wild. He rocked his hips involuntarily, trying to chase the pleasure that was building faster than he could handle.

He spilled with a loud, wrecked groan, his cock pulsing as hot and thick ropes of cum painted the black tendril in white, dripping across his stomach.

He clenched his thighs around your arm and his ass around your fingers as his body seized in pleasure. His whole body spasmed with the force of it. You kept going, easing him through the comedown, kissing his forehead and whispering how good he’d been for you, how pretty he looked when he came like that.

Venom purred with satisfaction, releasing Eddie’s cock only after the last spasm had shuddered through him. A tendril stroked his chest almost tenderly, wiping at the mess. “SO PROUD OF YOU, EDDIE. MY SWEET LITTLE BOTTOM BOY.”

You chuckled, but Eddie only rolled his eyes, and when he could finally speak, he rasped out, “Holy fuck.”

You curled beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing your nose to his shoulder. “That was okay?”

“Shit—that was more than okay, that was—” Eddie got distracted when he saw the way you were sliding down his body slowly, kissing your way across his abs, smiling as he gave a lazy groan. “What’re you—”

“Cleaning you up,” you murmured sweetly, and before he could protest, you leaned down and licked a slow stripe from the base of his cock up to the swollen head.

“F-fuck,” Eddie choked, twitching as you dragged your tongue over his sensitive shaft.

You grinned up at him, licking along the underside again before wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently to gather the cum that was dripping down. His breath stuttered, jerking his hips involuntarily,

But you smirked, cupping Eddie’s thigh and looking over at the hulking black mass. “Come on, Venom. Don’t just stand there. Help me clean him up.”

Venom extended the tendril that had been stroking Eddie before, still glistening with a mixture of slick and cum. The thick appendage curled closer, hovering above you. Then, with exaggerated slowness, Venom extended his enormous tongue and dragged it along the length of the tendril. The reaction was immediate, he contorted his face, squinting his eyes like he’d bitten into something foul. “Disgusting!” he roared, spitting dramatically to the side. “Eddie, you are rotten inside. You taste like death.”

Eddie groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Oh, for God’s sake. It’s your fault for only wanting to eat tater tots and chocolate.”

You burst into giggles, nuzzling Eddie’s thigh before licking another line up his cock, deliberately slow. “Don’t listen to him, baby. He’s just being dramatic.”

Venom sniffed his tendril, then licked again, slower this time, as though double-checking his opinion. He twisted his face even harder, baring his teeth in a theatrical grimace. “Ughhh! It is even worse the second time! Sour, bitter, wrong. You need to do the pineapple diet. Yes. We will make you eat it every day.”

You laughed outright, nearly choking on a lick as you glanced up at Eddie. “How does he even know about pineapple?”

His ears were bright red, his jaw tight as he muttered, “He spends too much time on NSFW subreddits.”

“Well, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You taste delicious.” You wrapped your lips around his cock again, sucking gently on the head, letting him watch you savor him. “See? I love it.”

Venom growled, shaking his massive head like a disappointed parent. “She lies to protect your fragile ego. You are poisonous.”

You chuckled again, licking the last streak of cum from Eddie’s shaft before kissing the head softly. “Ignore him, baby. He doesn’t get it. He’s not used to it.”

Venom muttered in the background, still sulking. “Rotten, Eddie. Rotten. We will order pineapples tomorrow.”

Eddie hadn’t even caught his breath before his cock twitched back to life, thick and hard again against his stomach. You laughed softly, brushing your lips over his jaw.

“Already?” you teased.

His eyes burned into yours. “Already,” he growled, pushing you onto the mattress with a thud and climbing over you with that desperate energy you knew so well.

His cock slapped heavily against your thigh as he pressed your wrists into the sheets. “You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he whispered, kissing you roughly and biting at your lips.

“Good,” you whispered back, arching up against him. “Then fuck me, Eddie. Show me.”

And he did. Eddie drove into you with one hard thrust, burying his cock to the hilt. You gasped, arching your back as the stretch stole your breath. He didn’t give you time to adjust, not that you needed it anyway, your body had molded to fit him perfectly, as if you were made for him. He snapped his hips forward again and again, like he wanted to claim every inch of you all over again.

“God, baby,” he groaned against your throat, his voice breaking as your cunt squeezed around him. “So tight... fuck—you’re gonna make me lose it.”

You clawed at his back, desperate and crying out with each thrust. “Yes—oh my God, Eddie—yes—”

You lifted your head just in time to see Venom unfurling his tendrils, as he slid his tongue from his jagged mouth. He spoke with an amused tone. “He gives you cock… but I can make it even better.”

“Not now. You had your fun, now leave us alone—oh fuck—” Eddie stopped mid-sentence, cursing as you clenched around him.

But the alien only chuckled, curling his tongue in the air like a serpent. “I will show her what I can do. We will make it so much better together, Eddie.”

“Jesus Christ,” He pistoned his hips into you harder, battering your cervix every time he bottomed out inside of you. “Don’t—don’t you dare—”

But you couldn’t stop yourself from locking your eyes on Venom’s massive tongue, which was thick and glistening. You ached for it, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of the possibilities of what that tongue could do.

“Eddie…” you clutched his shoulders. “Let him. Please.”

He groaned as if you’d stabbed him, but the way in which you felt him twitching inside you betrayed him. “You’re gonna kill me,” he kept thrusting, lost in the enveloping tight heat  of your pussy around his hard member.

Venom didn’t wait for another word of permission. He darted his enormous tongue forward, dragging a stripe up your inner thigh, making you jolt, then gasp, and then clutch Eddie tighter as he slid the wet muscle up to your swollen clit.

“OH FUCK—” you cried out, shaking as Venom flattened his cold tongue against your clit, licking broadly with strokes that made your vision blur.

The sight of Venom devouring your clit as his own cock disappeared into your hole just inches lower, made Eddie growl above you, feeling every shiver and pulse of your body as you squeezed him so tight it almost hurt. He had to admit, watching you unravel like this was divine. You, the same person who’d always been bold, commanding, and in control, were now a trembling and whimpering mess, utterly consumed by pleasure as Venom and he moved in perfect sync.

The symbiote laughed, vibrating against your cunt as he circled your clit with his tongue, flicking it to tease you, then sucking hard enough to make you scream. “She loves it. She is shaking for us. Admit it, Eddie... we make a good team.”

Eddie cursed him and slammed into you deeper, fucking you so hard the bedframe rattled. You couldn’t even respond. You were convulsing under them, Eddie pounding into you deep, Venom lapping and sucking your clit with obscene precision. 

Venom swirled his tongue so fast you nearly sobbed. “So sweet… so wet… she loves us both, Eddie.”

You were incoherent, crying nonsense into the air. “I—I can’t—oh my God—”

Eddie kissed you roughly to swallow your moans. “Yes, you can. You’re gonna take it. Gonna let us ruin you together.” His thrusts grew relentless, stretching you deeper and deeper with his cock.

Venom pulled the sensitive nub into his mouth with gentleness so he wouldn’t hurt you with his sharp and pointy teeth. He never once eased up. “She is going insane. Our little temptress is begging to break.”

“Fuckin’ perfect. You’re shaking so bad, baby... so tight... so wet—” He ground his pelvis into you with each thrust, grinding his fat head against that tender spot inside you, making your cunt pulse tight around him, forcing you to rub your clit against Venom’s tongue at the same time he bottomed out inside you.

You could only whimper, you were quivering violently as Eddie’s cock and Venom’s tongue kept you strung tight on the edge, over and over, with no escape. Eddie’s thrusts were deep and brutal, he was splitting you open again and again on his cock, and the way Venom curled his tongue tight around you, squeezing the sensitive bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth, made an obscene sound that echoed through the room.

“FUUUCK!” you screamed, jerking up your body off the bed, but Eddie pinned you down instantly, growling into your ear as he pounded harder.

“Yeah, baby—feel that? He’s eating your little pussy while I fuck you full. You’re ours. You hear me? Fuckin’ ours.”

Venom purred, shooting the vibrations through your clit, his fangs glistening as he uncoiled and lashed his tongue across your soaked folds. “So sweet. So messy. She gushes for us.”

You felt it in every frantic thrust of his cock, every desperate growl against your throat. His cock throbbed inside you, swelling, twitching, begging to spill.

“Fuuuck—baby—I’m not—I can’t—” he pressed his slick forehead against yours.

From between your thighs came that guttural chuckle. “Lame. He is already whining. Be a man, Eddie. Hold it.”

Eddie snarled, grinding his teeth, pounding you harder. “Shut the fuck up—”

Venom didn’t stop. He squeezed your clit tight, then pulled back to slap his tongue against it with obscene wet sounds. “You will not finish before her. If you spill now, you are weak. Useless.”

You sobbed under them, thrashing as Venom sucked your clit into his mouth again. Eddie groaned into your neck. “I’m trying... fuck, I’m trying—” He panted. “She feels so good... she’s so tight… squeezin’ me—fuck—”

Venom stretched his grin widely, dripping saliva from his jagged teeth. “Excuses. Do better. Prove you are a man.”

You half-laughed, half-sobbed, clutching Eddie’s shoulders. “Don’t listen—oh God—don’t listen to him, baby—you’re perfect—”

Venom growled in mock offence, slurping your clit so hard your scream ripped the air. “She lies. She wants more. She needs us both. Eddie”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie kept hammering his hips, ramming your g-spot with bruising force. “I’m—fuck—I’m not lettin’ her cum without me—”

Venom was smacking your clit with wet lashes before sucking it back into his mouth like he was trying to swallow it whole. You convulsed violently, clamping your cunt down on Eddie so tight he nearly cried out.

“FUCK! Baby—you’re—oh God—you’re choking my cock—” he groaned, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

Venom purred. “She is ready. She is going to explode. You better keep up, Eddie.”

“I’m holdin’ it—” Eddie closed his eyes and mentally counted to fifty so he wouldn’t blow too soon. Venom was right, he had to man up, he had to hold it. Prove he could keep up. “I’m holdin’ it, goddamn it—”

Venom pulled back only long enough to taunt Eddie. “For now.” Then he dove back, slurping and devouring you so hard the entire mattress was now a wet puddle.

You were gone, sobbing, trembling violently. “Please—oh my God—please—I can’t—”

Eddie hammered his cock deep, his thrusts getting more and more ragged. “Cum for us. Cum for us now.”

Venom coiled his tongue around your clit one last time, sucking it into his mouth with brutal force, and that was it.

You dig your nails into Eddie’s back. “Eddie—oh my God—Venom! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm crashed into you like fire setting your entire body alight. You clenched your cunt around him, squeezing him and trying to milk Eddie with violent pulses..

Eddie roared, losing himself, yanking himself off of you, pulling out before the intense twitching of your cunt made him spill too early. He’d learned his lesson before. Many times.

Venom licked your pussy, slurping your arousal as it gushed out, swallowing down the mess he’d helped create. “Good. Very good. She came. You did not completely embarrass yourself, Eddie.”

Eddie collapsed on top of you, sweaty and trembling, groaning weakly into your neck. “Go…fuck…yourself…”

Venom chuckled  as he flicked his tongue over your overstimulated clit just to make you whimper again. “Not necessary. I have you both.”

You stroked Eddie’s damp hair back, laughing breathlessly even through the aftershocks. “Don’t listen to him, baby… You were perfect. So fucking perfect.”

“She means us, Eddie.”

And with the way you still shook under them, Eddie couldn’t argue. He suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making you squeal as he dragged your hips up, keeping your ass in the air, and pressing your face into the mattress.

“Needed to see this view,” he spread your asscheeks with his big hands, and then slammed his cock back inside you without any warning. The wet stretch of your used and overstimulated cunt made you cry out.

“EDDIE—fuck—”

He bent over you, pressing his chest into your back. “So fucking good from behind… watching this tight little pussy swallow me up... Holy fuck—”

His thrusts grew relentless and brutal, each snap of his hips got you digging your nails into the sheets, as the waves of pleasure tore through you again and again. You couldn’t help but wonder, was this how sex was supposed to feel for the rest of your life with Eddie? Endless climaxes, each one more intense than the last, a pleasure so intense it made you cry out. And… did you just think about spending forever with him? A lifetime together? Fuck, maybe you did love him too.

Venom kept his wide and white eyes focused on the place where your body and Eddie’s were joining. “Beautiful. But incomplete.”

Eddie froze for a moment, groaning through gritted teeth. “You’re still here. Of course.”

Venom slithered his hulking form closer, unfurling his tendril with a wicked smile. “You are already in her pussy. But she still has another hole.”

You clenched hard around Eddie’s cock at the suggestion, and he cursed, dropping his head against your shoulder. “Baby—fuck—don’t even—”

“Yes,” you said before he could argue more, turning your head to meet Eddie’s wild eyes. “Let him, Eddie. Please. Please. I want it.”

Eddie twitched inside you at your words, torn between his jealousy, fueled by the insecurity that maybe Venom was indeed superior, and maybe you'd come to realise you didn't need him anymore, and also the pure lust in your voice, which made him want to fulfil every single one of your fantasies. “Christ, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me…”

Venom purred. “Wise choice.”

He slid a slick tendril between your ass cheeks, circling your tight hole teasingly. You jerked at the touch, moaning and burying your face in the pillow as Eddie resumed his thrusts, angrier, as though trying to prove something.

“Don’t—fuckin’—forget—I’m the one inside you,” he fucked you deep, slamming his cock into your g-spot with every thrust.

You could barely answer, too lost in the sensation of his cock and Venom pressing his appendage firmer against your ass, slowly working the tight ring of muscle until it slipped just barely inside.

“OH GOD—” you clenched your entire body around both intrusions in your body, a loud cry leaving your throat.

Venom pushed his tendril deeper, twisting it as he toyed with your ass. “Tight. Hungry. She loves it. Admit it, Eddie... you love it too.”

Eddie pistoned harder, and it made you son into the mattress, clamping violently around him while the symbiote curled his tendril inside your ass, stretching you in ways that made your vision go white.

Venom slithered out another appendage from Eddie’s back, stretching it until he circled your entire body, pressing the the tip of it against your pussy. He flicked out the tendril, rubbing your clit while he kept burying the other one up in your ass, thrusting it slowly.

“Fucking—hell. You’re—Shit, baby—you’re stuffed so full—”

You babbled incoherently, shaking, with both of your holes filled and used. While Venom massaged your clit in little circles, he also twisted the tendril inside your ass. You were trapped between both of them, and you didn’t want out.

“She is breaking. Two holes filled. Soon… she will beg for more.”

You could hear the slapping from Eddie’s heavy balls against you with every brutal thrust, and feel every push and twist of Venom on your ass. All of it only fueled you more, making you clench down on Eddie’s cock even tighter.

“Jesus—fuck, baby—you’re so tight—you’re choking me—” Eddie gave you erratic but merciless thrusts.

Venom filled the room with purrs full of satisfaction as he kept toying with your pussy like he wanted to devour you. “Perfect little holes. Stuffed full. She’s dripping, Eddie. She’s ours.”

Your scream tore from your throat, and you clawed at the sheets, shaking from too much pleasure. You were full, stretched, fucked in both holes, so stimulated you couldn’t form a coherent thought. “Please—oh God—please, I can’t—”

Eddie growled in your ear. “Yes, you can. You’re gonna cum for us. You’re gonna cum so fucking hard—”

The rhythm destroyed you. You screamed Eddie’s and Venom’s names as your climax took over your body, fluttering around his cock so violently Eddie roared, slamming deep one last time, and spilling his hot and thick seed inside you, trembling with the force of his release.

Venom didn’t stop, he kept working you with his appendages, milking every last spasm from your shaking body. “Yes. Cum for us. Break for us. You are perfect like this. Our little temptress.”

Eddie collapsed over you, covered in sweat, still buried inside your pussy, feeling it it spasming around him. “Christ—baby—I can’t—fuck—I can’t move—”

Venom finally pulled back, sliding his tendril from your ass with a wet pop. “Weak. But effective. She came. You came. Acceptable.”

Eddie was too wrecked to argue. You laughed weakly through the aftershocks, stroking his arm softly. “Don’t listen to him, baby… You were perfect.”

Venom stretched his grin wider. “She means us, Eddie. WE were perfect.”

And with the way your body was still trembling, stuffed full and leaking, Eddie didn’t have the strength to disagree.

“Pathetic. Both of you are puddles. Look at you—limbs like wet noodles. Couldn’t fight off a kitten right now.”

You let out a broken laugh, reaching up to stroke Eddie’s damp hair where it stuck to his forehead. “He’s right. We’re wrecked.”

“Yeah, great, just what I wanted to hear,” Eddie rolled off you, collapsing onto his back beside you, throwing one arm over his eyes.

“I made her scream louder. My tongue made her twitch like that.” He sounded like a little kid about to stick out his tongue at Eddie to mock him.

Eddie’s insecurities crept in, uninvited. What if you preferred Venom? What if the day came when you only wanted the symbiote, and not him? He couldn’t blame you, after all, Venom had superhuman strength, tendrils that could stretch however he wanted, and that tongue… Eddie couldn’t compete against that. The alien could go all night, never tiring, while he, human and flawed, needed a protein shake after fifteen minutes of doggy. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear that he might never measure up.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie dragged his hands down his face. “Can you not—just for once—just shut the hell up about it?”

You rolled onto your side to face him, brushing your fingers over his stubbled cheek. “Hey… don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Get all in your head,” you said softly, nudging his arm away so you could look into his tired eyes. “Don’t start thinking he’s better. That’s not what this is.”

Eddie looked away. “He just—he’s got these tricks. Tentacles. That freaking tongue. And I’m just—” He sighed, slumping his shoulders. “I’m just a guy.”

Venom leaned closer to his ear. “Very well done, Eddie. The first step is acceptance. You’re a sweaty, weak, messy little guy. It’s a miracle she still lets you put it in her.”

You smacked Eddie’s chest lightly, earning a half-laugh, half-groan from him. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t get it.”

“Doesn’t get what?” Eddie whispered, still avoiding your eyes.

“That you’re all I need,” you pressed a kiss to his jaw, then another to his cheek. “You’re all I want. Venom’s just… extra,” you looked at Venom before he could protest. “Good extra,” You clarified before looking back at Eddie, pressing your forehead against his. “But you, Eddie… you’re mine. You make me feel good. You did from the first night. And I don’t want to change you. Not one bit.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, finally daring to glance at you. The insecurity there cracked your heart a little.

“Yeah?” he rasped. The way you said it,so convinced, so soft, so certain… he believed you. He saw it in your eyes, the honesty, the weight of your words wrapped in sincerity.

“Yeah,” you promised, kissing him slowly and lingering, until he sighed into your mouth and melted against you. “We’re all a team. I make you two feel good, Venom makes us both feel good, and you make us feel good too.”

Venom gagged loudly, mimicking throwing up, lolling his tongue as if he’d just tasted something gross. “Disgusting. Sickening. Lovebirds. Get a room.”

Eddie broke the kiss to snort, finally cracking a small grin. “We are in a room, you asshole.”

You laughed, nuzzling into Eddie’s chest, drawing lazy shapes over his ribs with your fingers. “Ignore him. Just stay here with me.”

Eddie wrapped his arm around you tight, pulling you flush against him, brushing your hair with his lips. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Venom muttered another jab, his voice full with mock disgust. “Ugh. You’re both so wrecked you’ll be useless tomorrow. Pathetic meat sacks.”

You tilted your head, looking up at Eddie. His eyes were half-lidded, his hair damp, his mouth soft and kiss-swollen. He looked so vulnerable and exposed, it made your chest ache.

“Eddie…” Your voice came out quieter than you expected, but he shifted, humming like he was listening with full attention. You swallowed, feeling the nerves curling in your belly, but then you just said it. “I love you.”

For a second, he froze, like his brain hadn’t caught up with what you said. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. And then it hit him with full force. His face broke open into this wide, almost boyish smile, his eyes going bright and wet. You loved him too. You were saying it loud and clear. And you weren’t just saying it, you actually meant it.

“You—” his voice cracked, he laughed like he couldn’t believe it, and then he grabbed your face in his big, shaking hands and kissed you so hard your lips tingled. “You love me,” he whispered against your mouth. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” you whispered. “I just… I couldn’t deny it any longer.”

He groaned, pulling you into his chest, crushing you in a hug so tight it nearly knocked the air out of you. He buried his nose in your hair, his breath shaky and rough. “Jesus Christ, baby, you don’t know what that does to me.”

Venom’s growl was loud and irritated. His floating head, suspended by the writhing black goo that spilled from Eddie’s back, hovered in front of you both, studying you with pure disgust. “You two are revolting. Too much sugar. I will vomit.”

You laughed into Eddie’s neck, but Eddie just shook his head, still smiling like a fool, kissing your temple, your cheek, anywhere he could reach. “Ignore him. Don’t stop, please. Just—God, I needed to hear that.”

Venom huffed. “You wanted so bad for her to love you back. You’re weak.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, still holding you like he’d never let go. “Yeah, so what? She does. She loves me. And I love her. So go sulk somewhere else.”

Venom made more exaggerated gagging noises. “Now what? Marriage? Babies? Because Eddie always wanted babies. He dreams of little humans running around.”

Eddie stiffened instantly, his cheeks going red. “Jesus, V, can you not—”

You pulled back just enough to see his face, shooting your eyebrows up, tugging a grin on your lips. “You want kids?”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, looking awayl. “Not—not like right now. Just… someday. It’s not a big deal.”

Venom, enthusastic about embarrassing Eddie a little more, just kept going. “He thinks about it more than you think. Pathetic little fantasies. White picket fence. Babies drooling on his shirt. You baking in the kitchen. Domestic Eddie.”

“Shut up!” Eddie’s face was now red as a tomato. He looked back at you, nervous, fumbling. “It’s—don’t listen to him, okay? It’s just—it crossed my mind. That’s all.”

The way you smiled so softly made his heart clench. You cupped his cheek, kissed him slowly, gently, full of all the love you had. “Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, “you’re all I want. Whatever we do, whatever comes… I’m with you.”

His eyes shone, and his breath was shaky as he kissed you again, slower this time, like he was memorizing it.

Venom made gagging noises. “I hate this. I hate both of you.”

Eddie broke the kiss just to laugh. “He just wants you to say you love him too.”

You looked at the symbiote for a moment, “I love you too, V. Don’t get jealous.”

Venom let out a pleased growl that made the bed vibrate, but he soon tried to cover it with a cough, pretending to act unfazed. “Whatever. Yeah. Thanks. You too.”

You could feel the way Eddie relaxed his body even as he grumbled, like everything he ever wanted had finally settled into place. That girl… the same one who’d once taken his phone charger and rewarded him with a blowjob, was now curled against his chest. She was the one he loved, the one he imagined a future with, the one who made every broken day worth it.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He didn’t mean just you saying I love you back. He meant everything: your laughter, your presence, the way your eyes lit up at the smallest things. He’d waited his whole life for a connection like this, for this kind of intensity, for a love so pure it made the world feel lighter, even in the darkest corners.

You rested your hand on his chest, over his heart, feeling the way it slowly began to beat more steadily, calmer. “I meant it. I’ll keep meaning it every day.”

Before Eddie could get all teary again, Venom cut in with his usual flair. “Boring. Love confessions, cuddles, sweaty bodies sticking together. Enough. Let us think about something new.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. Of course Venom had to ruin the romantic moment. “Here we go.”

“Yes. New adventures. What is next for us? We have conquered the bedroom. The kitchen. The shower. We have destroyed one mattress already. This is the beginning. We need a change of scenery.”

You chuckled into Eddie’s chest. You’d never imagined, in a million lifetimes, to have this kind of pillowtalk. “What do you suggest, V?”

The alien hummed, as if thinking for a moment. “The beach. I want to see the ocean. Feel the wind in my hair. The sand on my feet. The seagulls. We will eat them.”

Eddie sighed from the absurdity of the request. One he’d heard many times already. “For Christ’s sake, you can’t, you don’t have fe—”

“I will feel it. And I’ll eat the seagulls. They are loud and stupid. But also, romantic! We will sit in the sand. Watch the sun set, do all those cheesy couple things Eddie likes.”

You laughed so hard imagining Venom with a beach hat and a pair of sunglasses, that Eddie’s chest shook with you. “He wants a beach date.”

“No,” Eddie said firmly, pointing at his face with one threatening finger. “We are not going on a beach date with you third-wheeling.”

“Third-wheeling?” He barked, as if insulted. “I am the wheels. Without me, you are nothing. Without me, you fall over.”

You bit back a giggle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind the beach. Just us… and him.”

“You’re enabling him.” Eddie run his hand down his face, he already knew he had no way out of it.

“She loves me too,” He declared smugly. “It’s time you accept it’s the three of us, forever.”

You smirked against Eddie’s skin. “I guess he’s right.”

A contented rumble vibrated from the alien. “Then it’s settled. The beach. We will swim. We will eat ice cream. We will build sandcastles. We will… bury Eddie in the sand. And then…” He locked his gaze on you. “…it will be just you and me.”

“Over my dead body,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head from side to side.

You tipped your chin up, kissing him sweetly. “C’mon, baby. Could be fun. Not the part where you’re buried in the sand, obviously.”

Eddie sighed, but you noticed the twitching in the corners of his mouth betraying him. “Fine. But I swear to God, if he eats a seagull in front of you—”

“I make no promises.”

Your laughter filled the room, and even Eddie chuckled, shaking his head, pressing his lips to your temple. For the first time in a long time, everything felt light. You had Eddie’s arms around you, Venom’s ridiculous commentary, and a whole world waiting outside. Maybe Venom was right. This was just the beginning.

Updates account

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read the series and supported me through it, you don’t know how much it means to read every single comment🥺

I honestly had low expectations writing for Eddie since he was the least-voted option on a poll I made, so I was really surprised (and grateful!) for how much love these fics got. I hope you enjoyed the series, and thank you for sticking around. I know it took me a while to finish it, and some people might’ve forgotten about it, but I really wanted to give them some kind of ending.

And a special thank you to @lafrancak for reading this last part and giving me suggestions, I appreciate it so much🩷

Also, it’s not just Eddie, Venom, and reader who are going to the beach, I’m going to Punta Cana this Saturday for a week😺 I’m finishing some of the fics I’ve been working on, so even if I won’t be super active here, I might still have something to post while I’m on vacation.

You smile. “Say it as many times as you want, you know I won't get tired of hearing it.”

He kisses up your neck, then pecks the side of your face. “I made dinner,” he informs you, and suddenly his heart rate is picking up, hands getting clammy.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just something quick and simple,” he brushes off, as if he hadn't spent hours making sure it was perfect. “Just some lasagna.”

“I wasn't...expecting dinner,” you reply, and Clark has yet another thing to worry about now. He's probably going to read into that sentence for a long while afterwards, deconstructing it, analyzing it, wondering what that pause meant.

“It's just dinner,” he says quietly, as if begging you to stay, to eat the food he made, to accept this tiny offering of your encounters not being only about sex.

You seem to think about it for too long. But Clark's anxiety releases its grip on his throat when you say, “Okay,” and he can breathe again.

He places a hand on your lower back, leading you to the dining room. The table is seat neatly for two, the lights off so tall candles can cast a warm glow across the tabletop.

His eyes flit nervously about your face as he sees you take the scene in. It's tough to make out your emotions when your expressions are mostly cast in shadows and only a little light from the candles, but you turn to him with a little grin. “Simple, huh?”

He feels his cheeks turn red and he smiles sheepishly, his eyes on the floor. “Simple-ish.”

You laugh. His gaze goes to yours and it stays there. He's not sure what you see in his face, but your grin slowly fades away and you open your mouth to speak. You close it. Pause. Then say, “Clark...”

He knows that tone. It's the equivalent of saying, yes, but.

He grabs your hand in his and raises it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “I'm just doing something nice for you, okay? That's all. This doesn't mean anything more.”

Liar liar liar liar echoes in his mind.

You hesitate, glancing at the setup before looking at him again. There's a furrow between your eyebrows, and it pricks his heart to see the look of disapproval in your eyes.

So he gently pulls you toward the table, hoping to stay whatever you want to say. He doesn't want to hear it because he already knows what it is.

Yes, but.

He pulls a chair out for you and you sit, more polite than delighted, and Clark has to pretend his heart doesn't ache at that.

“I left the lasagna in the oven so it wouldn't get cold. I'll go bring it out,” he says and scurries off.

In the safety of his kitchen, he takes deep, shaky breaths.

Calm down, calm down. This can still go your way. Play it cool, don't push her too much.

He retrieves the lasagna and carries it back to the dining room. You're playing with the edge of the tablecloth as he sets the dish down.

You smile up at him, gently and calmly, and Clark's heart softens.

“It smells really good, Clark,” you tell him. He's relieved to hear there's no resentment to your tone, just honesty.

She's not mad about the surprise dinner. Keep it that way.

“Thanks,” he says, and starts cutting up the lasagna. He can feel your eyes on him, just watching, staring, scrutinizing.

What are you thinking? What are you feeling? Am I scaring you off?

He makes it a point to focus completely on serving the food, on not glancing over at you lest he sees what expression is on your face. If he sees anything aside from adoration, he might die, and something tells him you're not as fond of him as he is of you.

“Wine?” he offers, and glances at you then.

There's still a little crease between your eyebrows, but it softens away when his gaze meets yours. “After the week we've had at work? Yes, please,” you say, and he chuckles.

It's good that she's making jokes, right? It's a good sign... Isn't it?

He pours you some wine and then some for himself. He sits across from you, and suddenly he's taken aback by how you look. So perfect, ethereal, a goddess sat across from him and doused in the golden warmth of candlelight.

His heart squeezes itself in his chest, his breath leaves his lungs, and all he wants to do is kiss you all over and beg.

Beg you to love him. Beg you to let him dote on you. Beg you to let him be yours.

“Bon appetit,” he says instead, smiling, but a little worm of worry is eating at him.

What if you never give in, no matter how much he begs, no matter how many dinners he cooks, no matter how hard he tries? What if he can't have you? How will he survive?

He's certain that, without you, he can't.

The conversation flows easily, though it started a little tense. But the wine and the familiarity of one another quickly dissolve the ice.

You talk to him about work and about life, and away from the office, you're free, more open to him. He listens raptly, falling deeper and deeper with everything you say, with every smile you give, with every roll of your eyes when you accuse him of staring and not listening.

“I'm listening,” he promises, “just admiring how gorgeous you are at the same time.”

That earns him a little blush and a shy smile before you continue talking.

And he just listens. And he just keeps falling.

After dinner, you both wander over to sit on his couch and watch some TV, though it's turned down low and gets lost in the background as you two talk and drink more wine.

There's a pleasant buzz about the air, and you end up sitting between his legs, leaning against his chest as the conversation turns quiet, gentle, almost shy. There's things that have to be said and don't want to be spoken. Things you know have been building. You can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he's holding you now.

You fucked up, that much is obvious. Just how far, though, are you going drag it out? How far are you risking breaking his heart only to keep getting what you want?

And yet, you know that's not the entirety of it. But admitting more would complicate more, so you have to play the heartless bitch.

“What's all this for?” you ask quietly, eyes on the wine in your cup. “The dinner. The candles...”

There's a pause. You can feel the steady rise of his chest with each breath, and you feel the way his heart starts beating harder.

“It's for you,” he finally responds, voice low. “Just thought I'd do something nice for you because you deserve it.”

You hum in acknowledgement, but you want to ask why. Why dinner? Why candles? Why wine? Why didn't he just pull you into his apartment and take you to his bed to fuck you like you'd been expecting?

Why didn't he just do the easy thing? Why why why.

“Does it...Are you mad?” he asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“No,” you reply, shaking your head. No, not mad.

Terrified.

Terrified because he's too close to your heart. Because he might already be in it. Because he found his way to it without you noticing until it was too late.

“What're you thinking?” he asks when you don't say anything for a while.

“‘m thinking I had a little too much wine,” you say softly, giggling. Is it true? Possibly. It's made your emotions slither to the surface, uninvited and unwanted; made them want to spill from your lips. But you don't think he should hear them.

You don't think you can say them.

He chuckles. “I won't give you anymore, then.”

You smile as you set your glass down on the coffee table. You curl back up against him, feeling warm inside when he wraps his arm around you and holds you close.

You could get used to this. You could get used to coming home from the office and spending an evening with him. You could make dinner together, then drink wine on the sofa, then fall asleep.

You could be happy here. With him.

Your heart rate picks up suddenly, Clark can hear it. A little frown crosses his face when he feels you tense in his arms.

He leans forward and presses a little kiss on your shoulder. He feels a little shiver run through you. You lean into his touch and he knows to keep going.

He kisses up the side of your neck, your scent invading his senses, and heat spreads through his body.

You let out a little sigh, moving your head to the side to give him more access, and Clark gently runs his teeth over the side of your neck.

“Clark,” you whisper, and he recognizes the need in your voice. He sets his glass of wine down and grabs you, picking you up with ease and carrying you over to his bedroom.

He sets you down on his bed gently, though his hands are feverish as they rake up the sides of your body. “You have no idea what you do to me, pretty girl,” he says, voice rough and thick, and his gaze, darkened with lust, meets yours. “You don't know what you make me want to do to you.”

Your beautiful eyes widen, lips parted as heavy breaths take over you. He can hear your heart racing, your blood thrumming through your veins.

His hands move down your legs, tugging your skirt down as they go, along with your panties, baring your naked skin to his hungry eyes.

“You're gorgeous. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers himself between your legs almost desperately, tossing your clothes to the side.

He's been dying to get his mouth on you since this morning in the bathroom when you didn't let him. And he's intent on making up for lost time.

He places quick, open-mouthed kisses up your inner thighs before his mouth finds your cunt and he kisses her too.

You shudder, drawing in a sharp breath, and Clark groans lowly. “I've needed to taste you so bad. So, so bad, baby.”

He licks over your folds before his tongue slides between them so he can trace your entrance. He drinks the arousal that's begun dripping there, his cock twitching at the taste, and he moans against you.

You reach down and gently run your fingers through his hair, little whines slipping from your lips as he dips his tongue into you.

“Oh, God,” you gasp and Clark closes his eyes as the sound shoots heat straight to his groin. His cock is getting hard, his body growing warm, and he knows he's going to be desperate for you in a moment.

But you go first. He'll stay here for hours if you want him to, no matter how painfully hard he gets.

“Clark,” you whine, tugging his hair, leading his tongue to your clit.

He grins a little, letting you show him where, and he's happy to pay attention to the engorged nub you've led him to.

His tongue flicks against it, making your hips buck, before he draws little circles around it. He looks up at you, your eyes shut tight, mouth open as you moan. Divine sight, worthy of all the wet dreams in the world. You're just perfect to him.

One of his hands slides between your thighs to push two fingers into you. He slowly pumps them in and out of your pussy, hearing the squelching sound of your slick, feeling your warm gummy walls clenching tight.

“There! There,” you squeak, gasping, legs spreading before pressing against either side of his head. He hums, keeping his mouth focused on your clit as his fingers fuck your cunt, curling up when they're knuckle-deep so he can press against your g-spot.

He keeps going, feeling your orgasm building up. Your moans grow louder, your breathing heavier, your cunt clenching his fingers tightly. You've begun rolling your hips against his hand and mouth, and a little part of Clark wishes he could capture your beauty in this moment.

He watches you as he sucks on your clit, pushing you over the edge. You gasp, thighs squeezing his head as your orgasm takes over you. He grunts when you tug his hair hard, and he keeps his mouth on you and his fingers in you as you come down from your high.

He kisses at your inner thighs before pulling away, his mouth and nose and chin covered in your arousal. “I spent all day thinking about getting my mouth on you,” he admits, smirking a bit. “I'd been dying to taste you. You're always so sweet.”

He stands at the edge of the bed and starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, all the while keeping those intense eyes on you.

You lie there for a moment, watching him, body slowly recovering.

You finally sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed, hands reaching for the front of his pants. He groans quietly. Seeing how much you need him always manages to surprise and delight him equally. The way you look at him — like he's the only one that can give you what you want — makes him insane.

It also makes him fall harder, the inevitable rush of butterflies in his stomach reminding him of that. That tiny little issue that's growing and that he's terrified of confessing, but that he just can't keep in.

Your hands undo the button of his pants and then tug the zipper open. You push the pants down, taking his underwear along, and the familiar warmth of anticipation pools in your womb, drips down your thighs.

His cock is hard, precum already smeared over the tip that's an angry red from how worked up he is. He sees you reach for him but he stops you with a gentle hand around your wrist.

“Lie back, pretty girl,” he instructs, his voice low and smooth. You go without complaint, spreading yourself out on his bed, smiling gently when he remains where he is so he can admire you a second longer.

“Whacha staring at, Kent?” you tease, spreading your legs.

He smirks, then chuckles lowly. “Baby, I'm staring at the most beautiful woman that's ever graced this earth with her presence,” he replies, crawling onto the bed, moving up until his body covers yours. “You're simply the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Most perfect being in existence.”

You grin, delighted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you accuse playfully.

No, he wants to say. No, I'm trying to get into your heart.

He just hums. “You saying you don't want me in you?”

Your grin widens into a smile. “You know I'd never say that.”

He kisses you then, quick little kisses, enjoying the way your lips chase his whenever he pulls away even a tiny bit.

He reaches down, fingertips tracing over your slick folds, his heart jumping in his chest when you inhale sharply. “Can I be in you now?” he asks quietly, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Yes,” you breathe, hips pushing against his gently in a silent plead.

Clark grabs the base of his cock and slants himself against your pussy, coating his heated skin in your slick. You shiver, eyes falling shut when he presses the thick head to your eager entrance.

He places little kisses over your face as he slowly fills you, hearing the breath stealing from your lungs with every inch you take.

When he's filled you completely, he gives you a moment, allowing both of you to take a breath. “You feel so perfect,” he says, his mouth pressed against your cheek.

Your body is overcome with little shivers that slowly subside as you adjust to his girthy cock. No matter how many times he's been in you, you're always surprised by how full he makes you.

Clark holds himself up on his elbows, looking down at you, admiring the beauty of you, the intelligent eyes he looks for every time he walks into a room, the soft lips he's become obsessed with kissing...

God, what's he going to do? He's so far gone.

He kisses your forehead as he starts thrusting, slow and gentle. You whine, your hands tracing the muscles on his back as he moves.

“You're perfect,” he tells you, his voice strained and rough. “You're everything I've ever wanted.”

You moan, your hips rolling against his, feeling every vein on his cock as he slides in and out smoothly.

“You're gorgeous,” he says, pecking your cheek. “And smart.” He pecks your forehead. “And sweet.” He pecks the tip of your nose. “And I —” I want you to be mine.

The words die on the tip of his tongue and he changes his sentence. “And I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

You smile. “You talk too much,” you say and kiss him, stealing him away from his thoughts and his worries.

He's thankful for the silence you bring upon his mind, the relief from the haunting voices of what ifs that have been haunting him for days. He focuses instead of the feel of you around him, your tight cunt sucking him in, your nails dragging over his back, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips.

He fucks you slow and deep, different from the other times. It's not quick and hot and hard; it's gentle and caring, and Clark is silly enough to think maybe this could mean something.

You wrap your legs around his waist, heels pushing at his hips so he goes deeper. His cock presses against all those spots in you that make your pleasure spread through your body like molten lava, thick and hot. Your kisses grow sloppy, messy, and your mouth detaches from his to gasp for breath.

He groans, nuzzling his face into your neck, kissing the skin there and tasting your sweat. “Oh, baby, the things you do to me.”

“Clark,” you moan into his ear, tracing his earlobe with your teeth. “Fuck.”

His body shudders, strength wavering and hips stuttering. You make him weak, crazy, desperate. He is done and undone by you. A single word from your perfect lips is enough to grant him life or steal it from him. He's yours, undeniably so. He just wishes you would be his too.

He angles his hips up, his cock dragging against your g-spot, his lower abdomen giving your clit the friction it's been aching for.

You gasp, teeth sinking into the skin of his shoulder. Clark grunts, hips bucking into you, hard. Your pussy squeezes him tight, making it tougher for him to thrust.

He grabs one of your legs, folding it up to your chest and opening you up to him more. He thrusts deeper, faster, but never loses the undercurrent of tenderness that's intertwining itself into his every move.

“Clark, I need — I'm gonna — Please!” you gasp.

“I'm here, I'm right here. You know you'll always get what you want with me, baby,” he murmurs against the side of your face, and he slides a hand down to rub at your little nub of nerves.

You mewl, nails scratching his shoulders and back, eyes shut tight as your orgasm builds in you until it reaches a fever pitch.

With a few more thrusts, Clark pushes you over the edge and you come, body squirming under his, cunt sucking him in tight.

Clark grunts, gasping, hips stilling in you as your orgasm triggers his. His cum spurts into you, warm and sticky, and he bites down on his lip to keep himself from murmuring I love you.

He pulls out of you slowly and rolls onto his side next to you. He stares at your beautiful face, content and satisfied, and feels a sudden surge of overwhelming courage that gives way to his emotions.

“Don't tell me you're not falling in love,” he whispers, fingertips tracing the shape of your lips.

Your eyes, which had been slowly shutting, snap open to meet his. “What?”

He holds your gaze, unwavering, but his eyes are nervous, scared, vulnerable. And you realize what he really means.

I'm falling in love, are you?

“Clark,” you start, unsure what words to use, how to express yourself. How to keep your heart safe without breaking his.

“I can't be the only one who feels this,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. “I can't be the fool who's misread the entire situation.”

You're not. You're not, I feel it too. But the thought of admitting to it has bile rising in your throat, bitter and searing, and suddenly you're nauseous, head spinning.

You sit up. “We agreed we wouldn't cross that line.”

He sits up too. “No, we didn't.”

You scoff. “Yes, we did. We —”

“We hooked up and we continued to hook up, and we never really established anything,” he points out, voice rising. “We never agreed to anything! You decided this was only a friends with benefits situation. You decided no one should find out about us. You decided that apparently there were lines we couldn't cross! Well guess what? I wasn't informed of that. And even if I was, I don't think I would've been able to keep myself from falling for you. I crossed the line and there's no going back. I just need to know if you're here with me or if you're still behind the line.”

He's breathing heavy, his eyes desperate as they flit about your face, reading every micro-expression, analyzing it, trying to make sense of it.

You just take a deep breath and school your expression back into a cool, curated mask. Without saying a word, you get off the bed and start getting dressed.

Clark hops to his feet, already wishing he'd kept his stupid mouth shut.

You talk too much.

“Don't leave. Don't leave like this,” he begs, walking towards you, trying to stop you from gathering your clothes.

“I have to go,” you say, moving out of his grasp. “I can't stay the night.”

“Sweetheart, come on. It's late, I don't want you walking home alone —”

“Clark, I'll manage,” you snarl, gaze furious when it finally meets his. “I'm not staying.”

He backs down upon seeing your rage. He'll just follow you, perched on the rooftops of buildings, so he can make sure you get home safe. He doesn't want to upset you any more than he already has, so he lets you get your way.

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches you dress yourself. After a moment, he says, “You never really answered me.”

You turn to him and sigh heavily. “What didn't I answer?”

“Are you falling in love with me?” he murmurs.

You hold his gaze a long while. “Oh, Clark,” you say quietly, and then walk out of his room.

He recognizes that tone, knows what it means.

Yes, but.

He hears the apartment door shut quietly.

♡ please comment and reblog my work, it means so much to me and inspires me to keep writing

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It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not- nothing was going right to begin with, and the outfit you’d initially planned on wearing ended up hanging off your body like loose rags. You had to change three separate times, and still, you aren’t too pleased with how you look today.

The day is miserable- all rain and clouds and grey skies.  There isn’t an ounce of sunshine to be seen, not even in you, because your typically upbeat personality has been taken and held hostage by the city around you.

“Perry’s gonna kill you.” Clark greets you, umbrella clutched in his free hand that he immediately holds over you as you join him. He slings your bag smoothly off your shoulder, hooking it over his own instead.

Together, you walk in unison; quick, and sharp, your shoulder bumping into his arm due to the height difference.

“Then we better hurry up, Kent.” you say back, earning a chuckle from him.

You walk through the rain, and you don’t notice the way he ducks his head outside of the umbrella completely. How you don’t veer off the jagged path ahead even though it usually pains you to walk in a straight line, because his hand is hovering on your lower back, careful, steady.

You don’t even question why, when you finally get through those double doors, Clark’s curls are almost soaked and you’re bone-dry.

The elevator ride to the top is comfortable, like it always is with Clark.

“How was your evening?”

“I ate ice cream for dinner,” you tell him absentmindedly, “And I rewatched The Devil Wears Prada.”

His eyebrow quirks up, “Must have missed my invite.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you not in a different city last night fighting an intergalactic threat?”

“How’d you know that?”

“I watch the news.”

Clark smirks slightly. Never arrogant or cocky, just knowing. “I still would have come.”

You don’t say anything, busy straightening your shirt and wrapping your coat even tighter around you. When the elevator finally reaches the top of the skyscraper, you’re the first to step out, Clark directly in tow.

Your heels clack against the linoleum floor with a precision that can only come from someone with something to prove; in this case, the fact that you’re late for a good (nobody has to know the truth) reason. Lois looks up for a split second, nodding at you in acknowledgement.

Beside her, Jimmy grins. “What time do you call this?” he jokes.

“Got held up,” Clark lies. You smile inwardly, knowing he was perfectly on time; it was you who couldn’t decide on what to wear this morning, on what rings to pair with what necklaces.

You’d told Clark to go on; I’ll be like, thirty more minutes. I’ll just see you there! You’d said, but of course he refused to listen.

Someone barks your surname. They also bark Clark’s. You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“Sorry, Perry.” You and Clark say in unison, his cheeks flushed crimson, yours still cold from the wind. Thankfully, Perry White seems to be in a good mood today; he just shakes his head in exasperation, a small mutter akin to tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum leaving his lips as he places another cigarette between them and turns around.

Clark pulls your chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before he does the same.

“Close call.” he mumbles, and you stifle a laugh.

It’s a busy day; one that stretches for far too long. You type until your eyes blur and you drink coffee until you can’t even taste the bitter burn of it anymore, but you’re focused.

You’re a great journalist, and you’ve chalked that down to be the very reason why Perry gives you so much grace. Why being late is a bump in the road instead of a fireable offense like it is for most people.

It’s Clark you have to thank for that; being his best friend certainly has it’s perks. He knows better than anyone how to charm the Planet’s infamous grump. Over time, you’ve learnt how to mimic him; be bashful when confronted about tardiness, especially by someone like Perry White, and you’re good to go.

After a couple hours of head-down, zipped lipped quiet, he finally breaks the silence.

“How you holding up?” Clark asks you, head hidden behind his own screen. You can’t see him, but you can envision his lips parting as he speaks, eyes trained on whatever word document he currently has open.

“Surviving. You?” you mumble, fingers wrapped around a yellow highlighter that has yet to land on the page. He lets out a chuckle.

“Counting down the seconds until lunch.”

“Are we going out today?” you pop your head around your monitor then, and Clark doesn’t skip a beat before doing the same.

The sight of him- especially after a long 121 minutes without it- makes something flutter dangerously in your stomach. His curls are unruly, piercing blue eyes only the slightest bit red as he looks at you.

You blink the feeling away, willing it to disappear and not come back for at least a little while.

“You want to? Or I could just grab us those bagels you like from the place ‘round the corner?”

“I can come with you,” you offer, but Clark shakes his head, the corners of his mouth upturned.

“No need. I’ve got you.”

You nod, a thankful smile spreading across your lips as you turn back to your desk. Of course, Clark does the same, and under the table you feel the tip of his shoes nudging against your foot.

Your smile only widens, though you try to hide it with a purse of your lips and a clench in your jaw.

It’s not that you have a crush on your best friend- absolutely not. Crushes, you’ve always believed, are for high schoolers; teenagers in faux love who believe that big, ugly bouquets mean romance, and cheesy, outlandish prom-posals equate to a lifetime of happiness.

No, you’re a little more pessimistic than that. And you’re a lot deeper in than that, because unfortunately for you, Clark Kent continues to be a shining example of the world’s most perfect boyfriend.

Minus the kissing. And the holding hands. Also the freakier stuff like sharing a bed, and hugging each other regularly- who ever said being in love was rational?

He’s kind. He’s patient. He waits hours for you to get ready and doesn’t even scold you for wasting his time, just smiles and stares at you like you’ve already done him the biggest favour by simply existing.

He knows your coffee order off by heart, grabs you a couple of sugars every time even though it’s sweet enough- just in case, he always says. He knows you like your bagels from Leon’s on Tuesdays but every other day, it’s Liberty’s or nothing.

Clark remembers. He cares. So deeply.

He is also in love with someone else.

“Just waiting for her to realise, I guess.” he’d told you once, when you asked him why he hadn’t dated anyone since Lois- all while holding a box of Christmas baubles you were picking from.

And he'd told you that he didn't need to date, not unless it was the person he wanted to be with forever. Clark Kent didn't do casual. To him, time was precious, and he simply had no interest in 'playing the field'.

Though even you had to admit; no matter how big the field, it would be very difficult for anyone on Clark’s future roster to compete with the brilliant Lois Lane.

“What if she never does?” you asked, gesturing for him to pass you another bauble to add to the tree.

It was mid-November, and a random chill in the air had you fixated on getting your decorations up ASAP. Naturally, Clark agreed, even playing pack-mule with you in the store as you collected everything caked in artificial frost and tinsel- even a brand-new tree that he held tucked under one arm as you ran up and down the aisles.

Clark simply smiled, eyes holding a shine as he watched you examine a fragile looking ornament, fingers twirling it in the light.

“She'll figure it out. She always does,” he’d said confidently, “One day.”

“What if she takes forever?”

Clark remained unfazed, “Then I’ll wait.” you just raised an eyebrow, dropping the topic immediately and trying to forget how deliciously romantic he sounded right then and there.

That, was six months ago.

And Clark has yet to introduce you to this mystery girl, has yet to even give you her name; you don’t even know what she looks like.

You supposed it was for the best. For now, you were happy living in blissful ignorance. Just until you got over this silly little love-crush of yours. Or, until you pushed yourself to finally start dating again and could finally forget about this whole thing.

You continue typing, the words blurring together incoherently. By the time 12:30pm comes around, your stomach is grumbling and it’s only the noise of everyone packing up for lunch that breaks your concentration.

Clark is already standing up from his desk, stretching those muscles of his that never go stiff, yet he does it anyway because it’s what everyone else does.

You lock eyes with him as he makes his way around the edges of the table.

“The usual?” he asks. You nod with a grateful smile.

“Please. Take my card-“ you’re already fumbling for your wallet, but Clark shakes his head firmly.

“No, it's alright. I’ll be back in ten.” He tells you, and before either of you can register what happens next, he leans down. Smoothly.

And gives you a peck on the lips.

It’s quick. It’s over within a split second. But it still happens; and when Clark pulls back without so much of a stunned look or an apology on his face, you swear you can still feel the plush skin of his lips on yours.

“Text me if you think of anything else you want.” he says coolly, as if he didn’t just short-circuit your entire being.

And he’s gone.

Just like that; he turns on his heel, nods goodbye to a gobsmacked Jimmy Olsen, and heads for the elevator. Leaving you; stunned, shocked, baffled, detonating in your seat.

You don’t move. For a long while, Jimmy mimicks you, eyes wide as his gaze darts between the elevator where Clark was and your desk, where you currently still are. And probably will be for days to come.

Eventually, he wheels his seat over to you.

“What was-“

“I don’t know.”

“Why did he-“

“I don’t know,” you swallow, and with a disbelieving shake of your head, you turn back to your desk, palms flat out on the table as a way of anchoring yourself to it. For a long while, Jimmy doesn’t speak, silently begging you to.

But you can’t. You physically can’t. Because it may have been an accident- it’s not unusual for Clark to give you a kiss on the forehead, an occasional one on the cheek if he’s feeling extra gratuitous. But on the lips?

Maybe he missed. Maybe, you turned your head without even realising it- and maybe, right now, he’s on his way to Liberty’s trying to come up with ways to end your friendship because he definitely knows now, if he didn’t before.

He knows, and he’s disgusted, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he came back with your bagel in a bag and a stern talking to about how you shouldn’t move your head when people lean in for cheek-kisses.

You decide you will never eat another bagel ever again in your entire life. You will be bagel-less and Clark Kent-less and best friend-less for the rest of time and it’s all because you couldn’t control yourself.

But you know you’re being stupid, because Clark is many things. Superman being the most important one of them- he catches rolling pencils before they can fall to the floor, nudges you gently out of the way when rain falls off outer stall canopies so you won’t get wet. He has reflexes that the normal man doesn’t. If you were to turn your head, he’d know, and he’d stop.

So why didn’t he stop?

You’re still frozen by the time he gets back. He has your bagels in their usual printed takeaway bag and he’s flushed from the cold, tie slightly crooked, glasses foggy and slipping down his nose.

He forgets to steady them, the grin on his face pointed so directly towards you that it distracts him completely.

Your eyes widen, hand shooting up instinctively just as they’re on the cusp of clattering to the floor. You push them up for him, the tip of your middle finger barely brushing against the bridge of his nose.

He smiles, crooked. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jimmy’s jaw on the floor.

“Thanks,” Clark says softly, and because your heart is going a million miles per minute, you just nod a reply back.

He sets the bagels on your desk, pulls his chair around to sit next to you.

“So,” he starts, getting the food out like he always does. You, first; he unwraps your bagel, sets your sauces out, and drapes a tissue across your lap. “What ice cream did you have last night?”

You tell him, carefully at first, reluctantly, like it wasn’t just vanilla and caramel. But Clark doesn’t catch on.

He just nods, attentive as always. He laughs when you make a joke, tells you in a hushed tone about his new friend in Gotham, Bruce Wayne. He’s an alright guy, bit serious though. And he wipes the corner of your mouth when you get a bit of ketchup on it. But he doesn’t bring up the kiss.

So, neither do you.

Clark keeps kissing you.

And you, well- all you can do is keep pretending you’re not actively malfunctioning every single time it happens.

At first you assume it’s a one-off. A strange, meteorological anomaly- like those fish that sometimes fall from the sky. Weird, very rare, and inexplicable.

But then he does it again the next day.

It’s the same routine: lunch break, Clark grabbing the food, you offering to pay, him refusing like always. Except now there’s a new beat to the choreography; one that involves him leaning in, cupping the side of your elbow like you’re made of spun glass, and giving you a very deliberate, very real peck on the lips before leaving. It’s gotten deeper since the first, you realise.

And every single time, you just sit there like someone unplugged you from the wall.

Jimmy has stopped pretending he isn’t watching. He mostly just gasps now. Out loud. Very dramatically.

Thursday, Clark arrives with two macchiatos and a cinnamon walnut pastry you mentioned liking once. You’re about to thank him when he dips forward and presses- there it is again- a warm, soft peck to your lips.

“Be right back,” he murmurs, like that is the casual part of this exchange.

This time, your confusion is so loud it actually echoes. Beside you, Jimmy drops his pen, and it rolls for three desks.

By Friday, you try to mentally prepare. You puff your cheeks out, slap them lightly, tell yourself that if he does it again, you will absolutely ask him what on earth is going on.

But of course, you don’t. You don’t ask your best friend anything.

Because the second he leans down and those soft lips brush yours in that infuriatingly tender, maddeningly gentle Clark-Kent way, your brain promptly ejects itself out the window.

He walks off, humming, as you slowly rotate in your chair like a malfunctioning Roomba.

Your head is foggy, filled with so many unanswered questions that somehow, feel so far from being said out loud.

Nothing’s changed, oddly enough. Clark still walks you home. Still hovers over your desk, helping you with rewrites and amendments. He still brings you lunch and spends Wednesday evenings watching re-runs with you in your apartment.

He just… kisses you, now. Pecks you, more like, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And before you know it, days pass. Days turn into weeks, and naturally- predictably- it gets worse.

Or better. Or whatever this is.

Because now- now, Clark starts doing it not just before lunch. He no longer limits himself, and you still say nothing.

He kisses you goodbye when he heads home for the night.

Kisses you hello when you meet at the elevator in the morning.

He kisses you when he hands you a report you asked for.

And, he even kisses you when you complain about the printer.

Tiny, sweet, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it pecks. Like he’s testing you. Like he’s waiting; for what, you don’t know, but what you do know is that you are very close to the brink of explosion.

By the time a whole month passes, your confusion has reached clinically concerning levels. Your Google search history is comical, an amalgamation of confusion and shock before you swiftly swapped to incognito;

do best friends kiss on lips??

signs of short term memory loss

am I hallucinating long-term?

long term hallucination symptoms

group long term hallucination

do kryptonian people greet each other with kiss

You search with a slight hunch, your entire body covering your phone screen in both fear and shame of someone seeing. You’re desperate; completely at your wits’ end, and Clark seems to be none the wiser.

But then, comes the moment everything changes.

It’s late. Everyone else has gone home, and the newsroom is buzzing only with low lights and the distant hum of the city outside.

It’s just you and Clark, finishing up an article he’s been helping you with.

You’re buried in revisions, your brains working in sync as you push through the exhaustion of the last few weeks. You and Clark had gotten better about leaving on time, but with deadlines closing in, staying late wasn’t really optional tonight.

You’re tired, very much so- to the point where pretending like you’re not bothered is a feat in itself. Clark is focused, glasses sliding down his nose as he leans over your shoulder to point at something on the screen.

And then- like it’s the easiest thing in the world- he tilts your chin gently with two fingers and gives you a slow, lingering kiss on the lips.

Not a peck this time. Not a blink.

A kiss.

A real, life-altering, friendship-make-or-breaking kiss that injects electricity in your veins and brings all your dead senses back to life. It’s wonderful. It’s passionate. And above all, it is scary.

You freeze. But instead of pulling back like he usually does, Clark stays there, lips pressed softly to yours, patient as ever. Waiting. Wanting in silence, for you to respond.

So, you do.

Your body moves before your brain can protest, before any part of you testifies against the very notion of giving in- your hand curls into the front of his shirt, you tilt upward, and suddenly you’re kissing him back.

Your lips are slow as they move together; at first, awkward. Then, the awkwardness melts into something familiar, something warm.

And finally, it turns absolutely, heart-stoppingly illegal.

Just waiting for her to realise, his words play over and over- incessant, like a broken record- in your mind.

One day.

You fit together perfectly, you and Clark. Your lips do all the work while your minds fight to catch up. He makes a tiny noise- a surprised, happy sound- and you swear you can feel his smile against your mouth.

You pull back first, breath uneven, eyes wide and stunned in a way you can’t even hide. Your hands are still fisted in the front of his shirt like you forgot to let go.

Your grip doesn't loosen on the fabric, too afraid to disrupt the moment you’re both suspended in.

Clark doesn’t move. He just watches you, chest rising slowly, hope written all over him. You can't speak, so you don't.

But something in your face- the shock, the realisation trying to break through and finally shake some sense into you- makes him smile.

It softens as he looks at you, folding into something heartbreakingly tender.

“I told you…” Clark murmurs softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the gentlest touch. His eyes graze your lips again, already hungry for more, “that you’d figure it out.”