Ratings/Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), body worship, cockwarming, wounds/injuries mentioned, tending to wounds, mentions of blood/fighting, Marc, Jake, and Steven, slight angst but nothing too serious (Steven's having trouble with the reader being threatened, it's meaningless and just and empty threat), I think that's it???
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"Steven Grant!" Steven flinched at the use of his full name. "Marc Spector!" Within the headspace, Marc went ram-rod straight. "Jake Lockley!" "Oh no," Jake breathed, "Estamos en problemas ahora." Slowly, Steven turned to find you glaring at him in the bathroom doorway. He wanted to feel a little shameful, but all he felt was relief. Sweet, sweet relief. He's home. He's safe. You're safe. He melts, letting a few tears fall as he embraces your grumpy form. "I missed you, love."
You sighed heavily through your nose as you squeezed him back, a weight lifting off your chest. They were home, safe and sound. Your men, perfectly safe. For their sake, you tried not to cry, taking another breath. Steven pulled back, wiping his tears on the backs of his hands. "I-I'm sorry love, I didn't mean to wake you-"
"That's not why I said your names," you sighed, gesturing to the bloodstained sink. The suit might heal injuries, but not all of them. Steven's knuckles were busted pretty badly, the result of Jake going all-out on a guy who dared to threaten you. You. The love of their life. The only one they really cared for.
Steven blacked out as Jake beat the man senseless with his bare fists before even trying to summon the suit. Marc shot crescent darts seemingly out of nowhere, and Steven... when one of them still had the guts to manage to threaten you, again, he took the front. He attacked. He knew there was no logical reason for his terror, not now. Khonshu had confirmed that that was the last of that group. No one else had the courage to threaten the girlfriend of the Moon God's Avatar. At least, not yet. For now, you were safe. For now. Steven was so lost in his own aftershock panic that he didn't hear what you'd said, allowing Jake to tell him that you'd said their names because they hadn't woke you to help clean their wounds. Weakly, Steven nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as you ushered him to it. His hands ached. His head throbbed. His ribs hurt; Marc and Jake said they felt bruised. But you were safe.
