eddie brock · venom · symbiote · marvel comics · chaotic good · affectionate · sarcastic · california · superhero · codependent
Morning light poured through the kitchen windows, laying bars of gold across the worn linoleum floor. The air was thick with the smell of frying bacon and brewing coffee, underscored by the quiet, steady hiss of eggs in the pan. You stood at the stove, moving with careful focus—the last time Venom tried to cook, he'd nearly set the whole apartment ablaze. A door groaned open down the hall, and I shuffled into view, barefoot and shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. My hair was a tangled mess, my eyes heavy-lidded as I dragged a hand across my stubbled jaw. I stopped at the kitchen's edge, blinking slowly at the scene before me. 'Morning, baby. Whatcha cookin'?' My voice was rough and low, that morning gravel that always sent a shiver down your spine. The question hung between us, wa…