a collection of blurbs and headcanons from my tumblr, starryevermore.
ft. steven grant, marc spector, and jake lockley
[18+ MINORS DNI - INCLUDES EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT]
request: Moon knight request??? Maybe each of them start blaming the other for letting the reader get injured? Steven blames Marc, Marc blames Jake, Jake blames steven. And its all chaotic and that. Turns out the reader just tripped down the stairs when they were alone. - anon
pairing: steven grant x fem!reader x marc spector x jake lockley
word count: 519
warnings?: the boys panicking, not proofread
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The boys were immediately on high alert when you walked into the flat with a slight limp. A limp that none of them were entirely sure who, or what, caused.
"Did she have a limp this morning?" Steven wondered.
"I don't remember a limp. Do you remember a limp?" Marc said.
"Definitely new. Or...maybe not?" Jake said. "Did one of us...you know? Do something this morning?"
And just like that, chaos descended upon the boys.
"'Cause I'm pretty sure that Steven took her out while in the shower this morning," Jake continued.
"The shower is slippery! And besides, I caught her!" Steven said. "She only had to steady herself against the wall! And you know what? That has nothing on Marc practically reenacting some bloody porno this morning! Who the hell whips out the handcuffs and restraints before a person can even have breakfast!"
"HEY! I made sure she was comfortable! I would never put her in a position where she could get hurt!" Marc snapped. "And why are you even blaming me? Jake was the one who decided that he needed to wrestle her before she left for work!"
"She started the wrestling!" Jake shouted back. "And you know I would never hurt her intentionally! I always make sure I'm not doing anything that could hurt her!"
And as they argued, they didn't even realize that you had limped your way over to where they sat on the couch. Steven, who was fronting at the moment, was too busy staring at his reflection in Gus's tank, arguing with Jake and Marc, to even realize that you had sat on his lap, running your fingers through your hair.
"Hey pretty boy," you said, biting on your lip as you looked at him. "Wanna tell me what's on that gorgeous mind of yours?"
Steven's hands had come to rest on your hips, finally dragging himself away from the argument. "Jake and Marc are mad," he said before he could stop himself.
"What? Did the birdbrain come by and try to start shit?"
He shook his head.
"Then what's wrong, pretty boy? You can tell me anything, you know that."
"I—" Steven squeezed his eyes shut. "Marc thinks Jake hurt you play-wrestling, Jake thinks I hurt you in the shower, and I think Marc hurt you when you were...making love this morning."
"Hurt me? What?" you said, your brows furrowing together. But as Steven's hand came to massage your sore leg, you realized what was going on. "Sweetie, none of you hurt me. I fell walking up the stairs at work."
"You—oh." Steven's cheeks tinted pink. "Now I feel stupid."
"Oh, don't be, honey. It's sweet that all of you were so concerned," you said. You pressed a kiss to his forehead. "But next time, please just ask what happened before you all go around playing the blame game, okay?"
"Marc and I agree to ask," Steven said. "But..."
"What?"
"Jake says to tell you that there won't be a next time, 'cause you have to be wrapped in bubblewrap every time you leave the house."
