WE Are (Veddie) [Venom&FemEddie]

Sex Life

New Stark Tower, New York, 2044.

For the third time this week – and thirty-ninth time in the last three months, because of course he’s counted every single one of his nightmares – Dylan startles awake, shirt wrinkled with his copious tossing and turning, along with the thin sheet that bundles at his waist as he bolts upright. His eyes dart around his dimly lit quarters, makes sure he’s alone in here, then takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart.

‘Are you OK, Dilly?’

Dylan smiles at the sound of his father’s voice floating through his mind, relaxes as he feels both parents growing closer to him, knows they’ve just entered the building, probably along with most of the Avengers. “I’m fine, dad.”

‘You’re lying. Stay where you are. We’ll talk about it.’

“Fine, dad.” Dylan sighs, mostly defeated already, because one, he knows that’s not a request, and two, he really should tell his parents about his nightmares... probably the Avengers, too. “How come you’re back early?” He asks, throws the covers off and walks over to the wardrobe to pull out a less sweaty shirt.

‘Surprisingly, people seem to be more interested in mine and your mother’s relationship than us officially joining the Avengers.’ Venom scoffs out, sounds rather pompous.

Though, it’s when his father scoffs again, sounds more offended, that Dylan chuckles knowingly and asks him, “What does mom say to that?”

Venom huffs, mutters out his reply, ‘She’s just bitching at me for trying to eat one of the idiot reporters.’

Dylan laughs at that, shakes his head at that as he pulls off his sweaty shirt and throws it into the hamper, neatly placed right next to the dresser – he may be a lot more OCD than his mother. “Oh, I so can’t wait to watch that on YouTube.”

‘He deserved to be eaten.’ Venom grumbles, scoffs, then adds, ‘Asking about our sex life – how dare he!?’

“Oh. My. God.” Dylan groans loudly, face wrinkled with disgust. “I refuse to believe my parents still have one.” He grumbles back as he pulls on his favourite shirt – his Rage Against The Machine shirt his mother bought him for his 17th birthday.

Venom’s chuckle echoes in his son’s mind, clearly amused with mentally scarring him with the notion. ‘Open the door.’

Dylan rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told, and there are both his parents, standing in the hallway with shit-eating grins on both their annoyingly smug faces.

“Is my little baby now traumatised?” Eddie asks, wears a mocking pout as she reaches out to pinch her – practically grownup – son on his cheek.

Dylan tuts, shoves her hand away. “I hate you both.” He tells them, though, has to fight back a smile as he does so. He huffs when they both just laugh at him, leaves them standing in the doorway to let themselves in, plops himself on the couch.

Eddie walks over to him as Venom presses the button to shut the front door again. “Your dad said you’re still havin’ nightmares.” She eases into the topic, voice soft, but still lightly coaxing.

She won’t make him talk if he doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean she’ll worry any less about him. After all he went through as a kid, she could never ask anything of him, never force him to do another thing. Still, she worries more than any mother should.

“You wanna talk about it?” Eddie asks when he only nods, his expression dimming.

“That was never not an option.” Venom states, voice level, but clearly stern.