#vampire!marc spector

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Blood is only the appetizer, honey

Vampire!Marc Spector x fem!reader

Edit: I messed up the timer I'm sorry!!! >:(

Cw/triggers: Blood, nsfw, possessive!Marc, smut, p in v, dub-con vibes because of blood loss.

A/n: Okay, wow, he's so scary. But it suits him!! I guess?

Marc has been looking for a delicious snack for hours now. It's ironic how tonight Khonshu had no available mission for him in order to get a bad guy to snack on, and now with each passing second his hunger grew. Despite being already late at night and not a single soul was outside anymore, he still kinda wished some miracle would happen and some stupid mugger would want to jump him just so he can feed.

Of course there was always the option for him to drink animal blood but he would rather die if he could than drink that because he hates it and it tastes like shit how he calls it. Now he's just wandering the streets with his hands in his pockets, kicking empty bottles and cans on his way.

As Marc turned a corner something catched his nostrils. A sweet scent, causing his nose to twitch. He knew the scent, it belonged to people who had a particularly sweet blood. Marc glanced around, trying to figure out where the source is, following the smell until he was close enough to spot someone.

You.

Marc smirked, his fangs elongated at their potential rich prey. Marc's mouth began watering up, he couldn't believe his luck. His seemingly insatiable hunger is now going to be temporarily stilled by your sweet blood.

He began walking after you. You were completely oblivious of his presence behind you, he felt a bit like a creep if he was being honest but he couldn't help himself!

While walking he occasionally bit the inside of his lip, getting desperate for a good place to drag you in for feeding while also trying not to drool on the ground because he felt like a feral dog walking after you.

Finally, he spotted an alley you were about to cross, thinking now or never.

He increased the pace, clamping one cold hand down on your mouth and grabbed your arm with the other, leaning his face next to yours so he could speak into your ear.

"Shh, don't make a noise," he spoke lowly "it'll be quick."

He dragged you into the alley, pressing you against the wall, keeping you there with his knee pressing against you.

He couldn't resist leaning in close, ignoring your protests and struggles with ease, taking a deep breath to inhale your sense-blowing scent. "You smell so good. So freaking good." he murmured, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

His breath was warm but his touch was cold, almost too cold.

Marc's fangs were fully extended at this point, your smell was driving him insane, his ears picking up the flow of your sweet blood making them ache.

"I would have already bitten you," he breathed you in again "but," he exhaled slowly with a slight tremble in it "your smell is just too good to be true."

He pressed his lips against your skin, trailing upwards until they were right at your vein.

You began struggling against him, whimpering into his hand, confused what's going on and scared to death.

You felt him grin against your skin.

His lips moved beside your ear once more. "Oh, you're scared? Good, makes your blood all the more sweet." he spoke eerily.

You shook your head frantically.

"Alright, I'll remove my hand but don't you dare scream."

Marc removed his hand slowly, allowing you to speak.

"Am I going to die?"

He gave a confused look. "What? No. I just need to satisfy my hunger."

His lips were back at your neck vein, giving a gentle kiss, letting his pointy fangs graze your skin.

"W-wait, don't do this please!"

"Do you want a feral vampire running around because his victim told him no?" he snorts. "I don't think so. You might want to satisfy his needs so he won't do anything stupid."

He opened his mouth, pressing his sharp fangs against your skin, making you gasp. "And I couldn't let someone as delicious as you slip through my fingers."

Marc squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "Try thinking about something nice."

Before you knew it, his fangs pierced your skin, sinking into the vein, causing a sharp hiss to come out of you.

Marc's eyes almost rolled back at the sweet taste of your blood. "Oh fuck... you taste heavenly." he moaned, feeling something different than hunger stire up in him.

He drank slowly at first, then went for deeper swigs of your blood. You felt yourself getting lightheaded, trying to weakly shake him off, causing him to press his body against you as his swigs slowed down.

You unintentionally let out a moan at his body weight, feeling the subtle bulge in his pants pressing against you, feeling him grinding slowly.

"Feel that, honey?" his fangs retreated into his gums, his tongue came out to lick the wound close, some of your blood was staining his lips. "Told you you're the special kind of victim."

"Are you done?" you slurred out from the blood loss.

Marc smirked. "With your blood? Yes. For now. But you? No."

He starts undressing you, exposing your core to him, running a finger along your folds, finding them a bit wet.

"Your blood was only the appetizer. Now comes my real need."

He unzipped his pants, reaching inside and pulled his aching cock out.

Spreading your legs, but keeping you steady so you won't fall, he positioned the tip at your wet entrance, rubbing against it, letting you feel how practical hot his dick is despite his almost ice cold skin.

As he pushed inside, you couldn't help but slump against the wall, moaning by how he's stretching you.

"Fuck, I knew you'd be fun. I don't think I will–" he stopped from speaking further. Now that Marc had you, a sweet one, he didn't want to let you slip away. He's thinking about keeping you.

He set a steady pace, angling his hips so he's hitting the spot deep inside you, making you flutter around him deliciously.

Marc feels you getting more wet by the second, the lingering sweet taste of your blood on his lips made this impossibly pleasurable.

Despite your blood loss, your orgasm was on its way fast, betraying your earlier struggles.

"Look at you," he pulled out almost all the way, just to slam back into you "getting fucked by a vampire in some dirty alley."

Marc was panting, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release.

Your orgasm almost knocked you out from the intensity of it, your pussy gripping him like vice and your juices coating his cock.

"There you go, sweetie- there you- fuck–"

He shot his hot cum into you, breathing heavily and leaning his head against your shoulder.

Marc pulled out shortly after, watching his cum trickle down on the ground.

He was still holding your shoulder, steadying you. "I'll help you get dressed back and you will come with me."

"Come with you?" you look back at him, exhausted.

Marc grinned. "I'm not letting you slip away. Now that I have you, I'll keep you."

[360iris]

good days | vampire!steven grant x reader (feat. jake lockley & marc spector)

please read all of the following warnings before reading!

2.7k word count // this fic includes: the drawing, oral ingestion and consistent mention of blood, the breaking of skin, cum eating, afab!reader, PnV intercourse, assisted handjob. Feel free to notify me if there is anything missed!

credit for fic idea goes to @melodygatesauthor & @welcometostayingawake // co-written by @melodygatesauthor // tagging @in-between-the-cafes for all the vamp boy goodness, hope you like it!!

Fridays are typically relaxing. Easy days spent tucked in on the couch with your nose practically pressed to the screen of your phone until it’s time for Steven to come home from work at the Museum.

Today you’d noticed the day had taken more out of him than usual, or perhaps he’d already been running low before he’d even left out. Either way the second he comes home you know he’s going to need more than a little tender love and care.

You can see it in the way he drags his feet, sags his shoulders forward and blinks back at you so blearily whenever he’s asked a question. He’s thoroughly exhausted and miserable.

“Was work difficult today, honey?” You ask quietly, watching as he wordlessly settles in beside you on the plush burgundy cushions. Pulling the covers up just enough to get under them himself before cuddling as close to you as he physically could without forcing you to move into his lap.

“My boss is a right B-word.” He mumbles softly making you chuckle as he rests his forehead against your left shoulder. Eyes closed, his arms reaching around your waist and resting there.

“What has Big D said now?” You ask amusedly, bringing your left hand up to lace your fingers in his curls. He leans into your touch, nuzzling further against you.

“I don’t want to talk about it if that’s okay.” He answers back politely.

“Of course it is, honey.” You’ve set down your phone, nuzzling back into him as well.

Steven is never warm temperature wise, his body hasn’t generated heat in years— the change made sure of that, and the difference in his touch is stark from what it was beforehand. So his fingers make you jolt an inch when they begin sneaking underneath your sweatshirt.

His progression promptly halting when you jump, stalling for a moment as he waits, undoubtedly listening to your heartbeat and waiting for it to even out before continuing.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Your voice comes out airy and a touch warbled as his fingers fan out against your skin. Wide palms finding their way under your top and massaging your waist.

He remains quiet in response, shaking his head as he continues leaning against your shoulder.

His hands instead begin edging upward, slow, languid and firm as he takes his time just feeling you. He knows what he’s doing, purposefully building up your need for him and inciting anticipation.

Enjoying the way your heart begins picking up speed and the low surge of your blood rushing in the veins beneath your skin.

It’s only when he reaches your breasts, fidgeting with and pinching your nipples in a very stop-and-go manner, that you finally realize this is a game to him. One of waiting, listening and denying. Delaying both your satisfaction and his own, like an infuriating little tease.

You honestly didn’t think he’d go this route, drawing out both your pleasure and his just because he can. Racking your brain, you search for the quickest and fail safe way to get him to speed up, to get to the main course instead of lingering on foreplay.

“Do you want to bite me, Steven?” You ask innocently enough, but it still causes his movements to stop all together. His hands remove themselves from you entirely as he picks up his head.

Steven doesn’t feed on you often, getting his daily blood consumption instead from blood packs (Marc has a guy who supplies him with them, and apparently it’s a whole thing that’s either very simple or extremely convoluted but you can never decide which was the case.)

His eyes become wide at the proposal, settling on yours and really looking to better gauge you.

“Really, love? You’d allow me?” He asks moving to clasp your hands in his. “You really don’t have to, you know how I get. Tend to be a bit of a nightmare, don’t I?”

“It’s never anything I can’t handle. Besides, Jake pushes me way harder than you ever do.” You mumble as he begins tracing the outline of your neck with his eyes before looking back up at you.

“Well that’s not a good thing, is it?” He says squeezing your hands protectively but you pull them back to bring your sweatshirt over your head.

“I want you to bite me, Steven. I can handle it, I’m a big girl.” The material gets tossed absentmindedly to the floor. “So. Bite. Me.”

He scoots forward, moving what little hair obstructs his go-to spot to bite before moving in closer. “I know that.” He murmurs, ducking his head down to the juncture of your neck.

His right hand settles at your hip, the other grasping the left side of your neck to keep you still.

“Just a sharp prick and then it’s done.” He cautions you the same way he always does, kissing the spot tenderly before opening his mouth wide. And from your proximity, you hear the exact moment his fangs pop into place. The soft and almost inaudible wet click of his top canines extending.

The tips of his fangs are sharper than needles, thin, exacting and precise. And though technically all the boys share the same mouth, with the same teeth, none of them bite alike. Each somehow making the initial sinking into the skin of your neck feel different from the others.

Steven always starts out slow, edging in until he hits the right artery and savoring the first mouthful with tentative lips. But it just gets messier from there on out as the feeding frenzy kicks in.

He begins breathing heavier through his nose by the third inhale of plasma, his hand on your hip tightening as he all but moans into your neck.

The older man releases a long and needful wail against your skin, and that’s when you know he’s been overtaken by his relatively newfound primal urges. His thinking mind clouding over as he does the one function his body has adapted to do.

Once Jake had described to you what it felt like to feed and his words have been seared into your mind ever since.

You’d spent the entire day curled up in bed with the worst cramps you’d experienced in months, and with his help, had managed to limp into the bath he’d drawn for you.

“Fucking carnal.” He’d admitted quietly, squeezing a pink dollop of shower gel onto your loofa before working the suds across your back as you rested your left cheek pitifully against your knees.

“How so?” You asked curiously. And you remember the way he paused, taking a moment to lick his lips as he thought on it further. The action causes your cunt to clench as you watch him, hugging your knees closer just as his penetrating gaze flickers back to your face.

It always felt like he could read you as easily as words on a page, but he simply goes back to washing your back, edging towards the nape of your neck in tight circular motions.

“Imagine the most turned on you’ve ever been. When you’ve just reached the height of it, and you’re getting to the best part. Can you think of it?” He speaks lowly, sensually almost, as he moves to wash your right arm.

It takes you a second to get the thought, but he waits until you give a nod of your head before continuing.

“Think of the exact moment you know you’re getting worked up to cum. Where you know there’s nothing you can do but allow yourself to continue getting built up. You’re going up, and up, and up until you reach the edge, and you fall.”

You’re looking at him entranced, holding your breath as he describes it.

“Feeding isn’t the build up, or the realization that you can’t go back. It’s the freefall, the entire way through. You’re just.. blinded, with pleasure.”

His eyes flicker to yours again, darting down to the way your mouth is parted slightly in awe. “What?”

“That’s beautiful.” You answer truthfully but he laughs heartily.

“Beautiful?” He laughs again. “Sure.”

Your blood is coating Steven’s lips, dripping down his chin and lining his throat as he sucks hungrily. And the hand he had on your neck has begun wandering, palming down the thin white spaghetti strap shirt you’re wearing and easily slipping underneath.

And this time you don’t flinch when his fingers touch your skin, cool and just as equally bracing as they were before. You’re too overheated for that.

The coolness is welcome as you bring your hands up to grasp at his broad shoulders. Not attempting to stop him but just better anchor yourself because you feel like you’re floating and it’s just as equally pleasurable as it is scary— no matter how familiar you try to become with it.

He’s begun rutting his clothed cock against the softness of your thigh, panting into your skin desperately as he drinks deeply.

The sounds he’s making are filthy and utterly obscene and they fill the room by the minute. Easily drowning out your languid whimpers and garbled whines.

When he pulls back he’s dazed, on cloud nine and going higher as his mouth painted red opens wide when he gasps in a deep and greedy inhale.

Finally able to get a decent look at him you’re able to see how messy an eater he is— teeth, lips, chin and throat thoroughly dyed with your blood as he closed-eye smiles dopily.

It’s a sight that should be alarming and wholly disconcerting.

You should want to run, hide, scream. Any normal person would. But instead your stomach gives a leap as you weakly clench your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing between your legs.

Steven leans forward again, but rather than go in for more he licks a wide and hungry stripe against the puncture marks before working his way up your neck, to your lips.

His eyes are open as he leans forward to kiss you and you hold his gaze right up until the taste of your own plasma hits your tongue and you’re swarmed with the metallic taste.

He kisses you passionately, needily. Quickly drawing your attention away from the liquidized iron and more towards the feeling of his body against your own.

He’s revitalized, energetic and firm as you melt against him— pliant and shapeable beneath his hands. The perfect apex predator and his more than willing prey.

You give yourself over to him wholly, mind not even fully registering the faint clinking until he breaks the kiss to unzip his jeans.

His movements are clumsy as he retrieves his cock from his pants, his knuckles bumping against your thigh and arm before he finally grabs ahold of your left hand.

Bringing your motionless hand to his length, he wraps it around himself until you’re fisting him to the best of your ability. “I know you’re tired, love. I know, but I just need— I really need to feel you. Can I feel you? Will you make me cum, sweetheart?”

And he asks so nicely, so sweetly and you’re so in love with him already that you can’t help but nod weakly. Allowing his hand to close around yours before beginning to fuck your hand with uncoordinated thrusts.

“S- So good. You feel so good, I knew you would. I knew you would feel this good.” He babbles nonsensically and you keep your eyes on him the entire way through. Watching as his head bobs this way and that, like he’s drunk. His eyes closed one second and open the next as he moans shamelessly.

You liked seeing Steven like this, you knew he deserved to just forget things for a while. Everything didn’t have to be so serious all the time, it was okay to allow himself to just be once in a while.

Precum leaks from the dark red head of his cock as it coated your fingers, making the slide of your hand and his foreskin easier as he chased his high.

“You gonna cum, pretty boy? Hm? You gonna cum for me, honey? Paint my hand white?” You asked sweetly, putting a little more energy into your grip as he jerks his hips incessantly.

He stutters, not just his words but his whole body gives a shutter when you speak. His eyes rolling back as he begins nodding his head eagerly, feverishly. “F- Fuck. Yes, yes, yes. Gonna cum for you.”

“Good boy, I think you should. Fucking my hand like it’s my pussy because it’s so good. It’s a shame you’re not fucking me like that though. Don’t you think?”

“I could, I could!” He blubbers, unable to stop the movements of his hips. “I could fuck you.”

You hum disappointedly, shaking your head. “I don’t think you could, baby. You’re so close to cumming already. And you already promised to finish on my hand. Didn’t you promise me that?”

He gives a desperate nod, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder. “I did, I’m gonna—“ and before he can finish his sentence he’s coming long and hard against your hand. Borderline sobbing into your ear as he shakes and jolts.

When he brings his head up, he’s a bit bleary. His forehead coated with a thin layer of sweat causing his dark curls to stick to his skin.

You bring your right hand up to his face, pushing and combing back his damp hair with your fingers. Holding his eye, you bring your other hand up, presenting your cum coated digits to his mouth and watching transfixed as he licks them clean.

Within an instant he’s got you on your back, his movements quick and in fluid succession as he kisses your skin, pushing your lounging shorts and underwear aside— he lines up with your entrance, his eyes drawing up to your face searchingly and needy before you catch his meaning.

Your head gives a rushed nod and he’s looking down once more, rubbing his tip through your folds, taking the time to coat you with himself before pushing forward.

He adjusts your legs as he’s sliding into you, his broad hands grasping underneath your thighs and hauling both of your legs up to fold you in half in front of him. The change in angle wretches a moan from deep in your throat as he positions you like his own personal sex toy.

His cock is thick and unrelenting, demanding all of your focus be placed in relaxing your muscles as he starts thrusting slow but firmly.

Setting into a rhythm, he pulls the hem of your top up until it’s bunched at your collar, your chest on display as his mouth descends greedily.

The proximity of his fangs to your skin makes you dizzy, and though he doesn’t make a move to bite— settling for mouthing and licking at the soft mounds, the sight alone makes your eyes roll back as he thrusts forward and hits your gspot square on.

“Steven! Oh- Steven, there. Right there.”

Lips wrapped around your left nipple, his hands hold your lower half still before he focuses his hectic movements as best he can. The pressure sending tears to your eyes as all the words get caught in your throat, leaving you so that all you can do is utter low shrieks and moans.

Angling his thumb over your clit, he begins rubbing against it rigidly. The slight pressure you feel at your neck as his fangs press into your skin is the final straw, and luckily you can’t move an inch under his weight because you jolt violently as he gives a single suck before pulling away.

Mouth red as he moans into your shoulder, spilling inside of you in warm jets, he holds you securely underneath him.

Wrapping your arms around his back, you lace your fingers into his hair as you attempt to steady your breathing. His sweaty forehead slumping further just enough to meet the fabric of the couch before he stiffens.

Releasing a sharp hiss, his leg twitches and he’s regaining his bearings before pushing himself up to look at you.

“Steven?” Comes out through deep breaths, although you recognize the knitted brows and lucid eyes instantly. Marc.

Bringing a hand up from your thigh, he brushes his fingers against his lips and looks at the pads dampened red before staring up at where the wall meets the ceiling.

Taking a moment to listen before looking down at you, he gives a shake of his head. “He fell asleep.” And you’re huffing out an equally tired but amused laugh.

[ivystoryweaver]

“You’re so wet,” he commented, sounding a little surprised.

“You do this to me…constantly,” you said, eyes still transfixed on his movements.

YES YES MARC DOES

Sweetness

Vampire Marc Spector x f!Reader

Blurb 1 for Kinktober 2024 - Request by @silvernight-m

NSFW below the cut - No Major Warnings - Reader is not coded

Marc stole away to your room one night when the mansion was fast asleep.

You awakened to him, hovering over you, eyes filled with such a heavy desire it was almost tangible. You cupped his cheeks, leaning up to slot your lips over his. Marc’s breath was coming out in short, desperate huffs, mouth quickly working its way to your jawline, then to your pulse where he rested, basking in your overwhelmingly delicious scent.

“I wish I could taste you,” he muttered against your skin, the sound of his fangs shifting into place rang loudly in your ear; the sound of danger; the sound of hunger.

“I know,” you whispered, wanting more than anything to give him that small thing, but you knew Khonshu would never allow it.

His kisses peppered your skin until he reached your sternum.

“I’ll just have to kiss every inch of you until I’m satisfied enough then,” he sniffed out a laugh, looking up at you through his dark lashes.

You nodded, breathless and wanting, body sparking to life at the mere sight of him exploring you with his lips alone. He kissed your breasts, peeling away your nightgown so he could flick his tongue over your budded nipples, grazing the hardened flesh with his teeth.

“Marc,” you whispered, somewhere between a beg and a demand.

It was painfully slow, the way he pressed his lips against different parts of your body, each time feeling better than the last. You thought you might scream when he lapped his tongue over your lower abdomen.

“You’re so wet,” he commented, sounding a little surprised.

“You do this to me…constantly,” you said, eyes still transfixed on his movements.

He looked right at you as he dragged a finger through your slick folds, like he was gauging your reaction, daring you to moan for him. Your jaw dropped when he dipped his finger inside your waiting hole, curling it upward and feeling your cunt flutter.

“Marc,” you said again, this time accompanied by a heavy moan.

He held onto your hip with his free hand, melting his mouth against your burning clit. With a gasp, you threw your head back, your hand quickly moving, grabbing onto a fistful of curls. You arched your back, angling your cunt against his face, filling the room with your soft, whispered moans. 

Marc’s eyes flitted upward, catching your gaze in the heat of the moment. You heard him groan deeply, swallowing against your mound like a man starved. With another finger to meet the first, you felt a delicious stretch, followed quickly by your choked whine. Marc hummed into your folds, starting to piston his fingers in and out of you, moving in time with his tongue.

Your thighs clenched around his head, a sign that your orgasm was coming near. He looked up at you again, brow raised as if to acknowledge your impending climax. You shoved his head back down, crossing your legs over his back and biting your lip.

“J-Just like that, right there, o-oh god,” you muttered, using your free hand to cover your own mouth.

When Marc added finger number three, you were a goner. He curled them up, hitting that spot that made your whole body shudder and your cunt clench around him. You had to use both hands now to silence yourself, lest your screams wake the entire household.

After what felt like forever, your mind became clear again, the fog of your orgasm fading away. Marc made his way up to you, kissing your lips softly and brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“Goodnight, honey,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Goodnight, Marc.”

Back to Kinktober Masterlist

[my-secret-shame]

[oddballwriter]

Daily Bite

Summary: You take up a job with a trashy celebrity newspaper to go undercover under a housekeeper for a mysterious tycoon family who never lets the public eye see them just outside of Chicago. Your job is simple: collect information and send it back to the company to publish. But it seems like things are stranger than you originally thought they were going to be.

Warnings: Vampire au. No gore happens here, but if this gets enough love, then the story will progress, and there might be a few cases of that in future parts. Gender-neutral reader, no mention of pronouns or any type of anatomy. This whole thing is very pilot-y.  

Author’s Snip: Here I go again with my vampires lol. Will I ever finish a series? Who knows. But now this is here and I want to know if you guys are game.

Notes: This whole thing is what I'm going to call a Pilot-Fic. Basically, this is a thought that's been rattling inside of my head, and I want to do it, but I want to see if you guys are interested. So this is basically going to be a teaser and pilot for it to possibly get green-lit by you guys. At the end, I'll put a poll and you guys can choose if you want this to continue. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2,876

Taglist:

You were a journalist who was as broke as bricks. That's how you ended up with this incognito job working for a trashy celebrity press company. This isn't where you had thought you'd be in your life when you studied and majored in journalism, but it was better than having nothing. It wasn't anything personal to who you were sent to spy on; the company was just offering you a fat stack, and your contract had it stated that this was your only job and then you're free, and also they’re able to cover your tracks on who you are so that you’re not identified once everything goes public. So, the only dirt on your hands will just be morally.

Anyhow, your job revolved around an interesting, albeit strange, tycoon family, the Spectors, who’s managed to successfully stay out of the public eye for nearly two centuries now based in the outskirts of Chicago. You aren’t too sure what they’re a tycoon of, but the press company made it very clear that they were very lucrative and secretive about themselves. Locking themselves in their large mansion and even larger estate away from the eyes of the world and doing all their business there. The only people allowed to see or be near them are the staff employed on their estate and a handful of outsiders who do whatever task they’re given and then immediately kicked out, each and every single one of them having to sign nondisclosure agreements and getting buried in cease and desist letters and threats of lawsuits to any who dare say a thing about them.

Thankfully, you aren’t too in the dark as to who’s living in that big old mansion. According to the sparse few who have said something, there are three men who are all identical triplets and are heirs to the family business and wealth, but seemingly all agree to keep to the estate and never go out. Their names are Marc, Steven, and Jake, most likely being juniors and sharing the same names as the other pair of triplet sons from the Spector family before they randomly became closed off to the world.

Not much is known about them other than that those giving the information either got buried in legal papers or chose to shut up. Everything else is in the walls of the mansion and the sealed mouths of the staff.

But that’s where you come in.

There were two job openings for housekeeping and cleaners that the company managed to catch and send to you. You applied, and you managed to get the job. The only thing is, you would have to pack up and move into the mansion since the only job is listed as a live-in. That was fine, though, you’d still be getting paid by the owners, have a roof over your head, and food, so you would have to find a place to rent and try and supply yourself with groceries. So you packed up what you had and headed off for Chicago and the Spector estate.

However, it seems like the universe wanted to give you a bit of comeuppance though. The press company wanted you to arrive a few days early so that “they don’t have time to hide anything”, but the day that you made it to Chicago it was bucketing rain and you still needed to get to the estate in the outskirts. You did pack an umbrella, but it wasn’t doing much good in these conditions.

You decide that the best way to get there is a taxi. Thankfully, just as soon as you signal for one, one comes shortly after. The driver rolls down the window; you can’t see him too well due to the screen between the driver and passenger seat, but you can hear him clearly when he asks where you’re heading. You tell him, and he says he knows how to get there. You then pay him upfront to save you from having to pay when you get there since you’ll have to take your luggage out of the trunk too.

Sliding into the back seat, you find that he’s also got the screen between the front and back of the car, still obscuring him from being seen properly by you, coupled with his driver's hat and coat. It doesn’t really matter to you. You’re just happy to get a break from that god-awful rain for now.

“This money better be worth it.” you quietly grumble to yourself as the driver takes off.

Along the drive he starts conversation with you. Nothing too big, just casual small talk.

“So what’s over there for you at the old Spector place?” he asks. “I got a job there,” you answer simply. He lets out a ‘huh’ as a response. “Not a lot of those in there.” he says before adding, “They rarely let new people in. You must be lucky to have gotten that job, huh?”. You shrug, “I guess so. It was the last application I made.”.

“You having trouble with finding jobs?” he questions.

“Yeah. Not much out there for someone like me, I suppose,” you answer.

“What’s your expertise?” the driver asks.

You hesitate to answer at first before landing on a half-truth, “Journalism. But I gave up on that. All the good stuff is taken already.” you say. “Journalism,” the driver echoes back. “Why do you say all the good jobs are taken? I’m sure someone’s looking for a journalist out there?” he says after a moment. You sigh and answer in a mumble, “Well, I didn’t find any.” as you thought about your current job.

“But I guess working as a live-in housekeeper isn’t too bad of an in-between job.” the driver says, which catches your attention and makes you confused. “I never said what I was going there for,” you say in your confession. The driver notices your apprehension and says, “Lucky guess. Most people who get a job there are there to be housekeeping.” with a nonchalant attitude. That shook off your confusion, and you shrugged back with your own remark, “Well then, I’m no different.”.

After a brief silence, the driver speaks again with a strange question.

“You’re not scared, are you?”.

“Why would I be scared?” you question.

“People like to tell scary stories about that place. Talking about how they never seem to leave that old place and don’t talk to anyone and making up all kinds of stuff.” the driver says.

“What kind of stuff?” you ask.

You can hear a sort of humor in the drivers voice as he talks, like what he’s saying is like some big joke to him.

“All kinds of stuff. Like how the mansion’s haunted and that there’s all this mystery about the family, why they just randomly closed off to the public centuries ago and haven’t left since, and all sorts of stuff. Some people like to say that the original family never actually grew old and died to leave everything to their descendants and that they’re actually vampires living amongst themselves.”.

You psshh at the thought of that. You had actually heard that crazy theory before while researching what there was a record of about the family after taking this job, but you knew that it wasn’t real. You had heard that the three sons started acting off all the way back before hermitting themselves, but it was known that their parents died very suddenly and that it was possibly a mourning thing that they never left that phase and that the rest of the generations kept to for whatever reason.

Other than the records predating the 1840s, you found nothing. Except for one source talking about medical history that made it known that the two first of the triplets, Marc and Steven Sr., were born slightly conjoined at the hip and had some health issues around that. You aren’t too sure why you remembered that one morbid fact, but it was there and might be worth something.

The rest of your ride was filled with more small talk and the occasional look outside the window.

Still pouring.

You eventually reach the outskirts and into a dense area of trees that completely hide the city as if it was never even there, after a bit longer, you eventually reach a gravel road with a big metal gate with tall stone walls up ahead that hide the other side except for a roof of the mansion off in the distance that just manages to peak over the walls into your line of sight.

"You need help getting all your stuff up there? The walk up to the place is longer than it looks." the driver offers, "No extra charge." he adds. You nod and thank him for being willing to lend you a hand as you prepare yourself to get out of the cab.

The gate just happens to already be open, so you don't need to buzz for someone to come get it if there even is a buzzer anywhere.

You take a few of your lighter bags and make the hike up the rest of the gravel path with the driver behind you. So you look back for him, you feel a bit bad since he's walking with no umbrella, with his hat and coat being his only protection from the rain and seemingly having to tilt his head down to keep his face dry, so you go back towards him and share your umbrella with him.

"Oh, don't worry about me." he laughs, "I've been through worse," he says. "I don't want you to get sick," you say. "I don't get sick. But thanks for the concern." the driver responds.

As you walk, the mansion seems to get bigger and bigger and taller the closer you get. It also doesn't help that its dark color pallet is dulled out and looks unmaintained, making it look spooky and straight out of Halloween concept art. No wonder people say it's haunted. It looks haunted. Even the front door is bigger than you once you reach it.

You set down your bags to have a free hand to knock. It takes a while and a few more knocks, but eventually, someone opens it up a bit to see who's there. You peek your head in a bit to see a stout older woman who has grey streaks in her hair already and wrinkles that emphasize her bothered expression.

"No solicitors." she says before you can even get a hello in.

"I'm not a solicitor," you say before you introduce yourself and say that you're here to be one of the new housekeepers.

"You're here three days early." she scowls.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," you apologize. "Something came up, and I had to come early and couldn't get a room anywhere here till it was time for me to arrive. I tried to contact someone, but the only option was a letter. I guess the mail is slower right now." you lie. Not fully. The only way to contact is by letter was true, and the job offer was actually via a personal ad in the paper. But you never sent a damn letter.

The lady eyes you up suspiciously for a bit before seemingly taking it while grumbling "No one ever tells me anything.".

"You came all the way up here all by yourself?" she questions.

"Oh, no. A driver helped me with getting my bags up-" you explain as you turn to look at the driver, but when you look, he's gone. You look around for him, but you don't see him walking down the pathway or even his cab where the gate is anymore. You turn back to the woman and finish your sentence, "There was a taxi driver who helped me get my bags up here.".

The maid just opens the door and lets you in, saying, "Alright. Get in here before you get any more wet.".

Stepping inside, the maid closes the door behind you and tells you to stay there as she goes off somewhere in the house, which gives you time to get a look at this place.

You find it's a lot bigger on the inside, if that's even possible. There's a large indoor mat at the door that takes up most of the entrance area. The whole foyer up ahead has more space than most people do for their houses, with two old-style grand staircases going up the sides that take you up to the rest of the floors. There are three main hallways that you can see. One on each side of the house just where the bottoms of the stairs end, and one in front of you under where the two staircases meet. This place is just as spooky looking on the inside as it is on the outside too. The lighting is cool-toned, making the place look a bit blue even though some lights are trying their hardest to light the place up. It's also deafly quiet; the only thing you can hear is the echo of the old woman's footsteps along the polished hard floor, but she's far enough away that they've become faint. You can also hear a muffled conversation somewhere within the house, but all the walls that might be between you and whoever is talking make it unknown to you. But as you listen closely, you manage to make out what seems to be three separate voices.

You hear footsteps coming to where you are and see that it's the maid coming back to get you. She gestures for you to follow her and takes you down one of the hallways on the side of the house.

"You're lucky that we just cleaned out the room that you'll be living in while you work here," she remarks. "I'm really sorry about the early arrival. If I had known, then I would have found some way to wait until the day I was meant to come," you claim. The lady humphs back before saying, "I don't like having to repeat myself, but since you're here and your other new co-worker isn't, I'll have to make due.".

"You're the head maid?" you ask.

"Yes." the lady responds quickly, sounding annoyed before she continues.

"We'll do this," she proclaims, "You spend today settling into your room. Tomorrow, I'll give you a brief tour around the house. And the day after that, your co-worker should arrive sometime in the day. After that, I show you both how to do things around here while giving them their tour." she explains. "Got it?" she asks demandingly.

"Got it." you echo.

It was at that point that you two reach a corridor full of nothing but doors where you two stop at one. The head maid pushes open the door to reveal a relatively nice but quaint room. It looks like a very small hotel room, with only a twin-sized-looking bed, a small nightstand, and a little desk with an even smaller-looking personal bathroom. You were expecting something more cramped and a bit dehumanizing, but this was actually really nice. A bit banged up in a few spots, but it was pretty nice compared to the rooms you'd heard about concerning live-in jobs.

"This will be your room from now on." the head maid says as she places a single key in your hand, "This is your key to it." she tells you. She then points a finger right in your face as she orders you, "Do not lose it. If you do, then we have to get all the locks redone.".

"I'll protect it with my life." you joke as you promise to keep it on you, but she just huffs. "The staff have designated breakfast, lunch, and dinner times. Lunch is in an hour and a half. Dinner is at six." she says as she begins to walk away.

You try to ask where exactly you're meant to go for your meals, but she seems to have caught on by herself and says, "Staff's dining room is down the center hallway from where you came in and is the second to last door on the left.", she also adds "You can eat in your rooms too if you want, just don't make a mess. And if you do, clean it up.".

You take a mental note of that and take all your things into your room, shutting the door. You put everything in its place and proceed to take out your pocket journal and pen that you plan on using as you collect information.

"Just arrived at the mansion. This place is already giving me the creeps look-wise. Took a cab here. The driver was friendly but didn't tell me much about the family other than the stories and theories I'd already heard. Met the head maid, was really rude, didn't catch her or the driver's names. The head maid says that she'll give me a tour tomorrow. Waiting for the other new person to come before we actually start working. I'll see if I notice anything out of place on my tour. Haven't seen any of the three owners, yet. My room's nice though."

[mikazureart]

in the embrace of the night

[wastingmylifesecondatatime]

UPDATE: 05.06.2024

NOTE: You can find other masterlists in my mother masterlist

I have updated the following masterlists:

Criminal Minds Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Criminal Minds Masterlist - Series

Moon Knight Masterlist - Series

Moon Knight Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Marauder Era Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

The Vampire Diaries Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

[age-of-moonknight]

Blood Hunt (Vol. 1/2024), #5.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Pepe Larraz; Colorists: Marte Garcia and Fer Sifuentes-Sujo; Letterer: Cory Petit

[therealraewest]

Just put this together on my second read but Jake asking around about Blade while doing vampire recon

So they can later ask Blade to mentor Reese

Jake has known Reese for 2 seconds (they hadn't even officially met yet) and is already networking on her behalf because she's important to Marc

[oc3anawrites]

hello! just wanted to write a little introductory post for myself in the hopes to finds moots as im new on tumblr :) i’ve had a few accounts before especially when tumblr was a lot more popular but never posted

you can call me oceana, i’m 20, i write in my free time and im currently working on a moonknight angst fic which you can read all the chapters here

i have bpd along with autism and adhd (among other things) so i hyper fixate on stuff a lotttt

some fandoms im apart of that i may write fics for later or would just love to talk about in general is moonknight (obviously), marvel, the vampire diaries, supernatural, teen wolf, flash and arrow, criminal minds, twilight. that’s just a few i can name :)

i think my messages are open (not sure if i did it right) so if u wanna be friends and chat about our interests pls message me :)

if u check out my fic i’ll read urs! just send me the link :D

have a good day!!

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

The three fics from here -> [X] are in queue, they all will be coming out on Halloween like I've promised. Each fic will be posted hourly.

• Fine Addition - ModernAU! Dr. Frankenstein!Steven Grant x fem!reader (This one is the softest one out of the three)

• Blood is only the appetizer, honey - Vampire!Marc Spector x fem!reader (He's a bit scary)

• Not in a killer mood - Ghostface!Jake Lockley x fem!reader

[dervampireprince]

ASMR | Moon Knight - Marc Spector x Listener NSFW Patching Marc Up And Helping Him Relax [Patreon Preview]

[M4A] [Established relationship] [First time together] [Dom/Switch listener] [Injured speaker] [Reverse comfort] [Oral on speaker] [Listener touches themself] [Marc's first time being submissive, he's sort of tsundere about it, a tiny bit bratty] [Aftercare]

This month's second Patreon fledgling tier exclusive spicy audio, the full audio is 42 minutes long. Olivia Ozmun asked "We've gotten plenty of NSFW Stephen (and I love it all!) so I was wondering if we could get first time Marc?", Persephone Porres asked "I would love some NSFW Marc! Not sure if this is too detailed but maybe he comes home a little injured (prob just a scrape but we make a fuss about it) and we fix him up, maybe having to kneel infront of him or sit in his lap to wrap/wash him up? He gets excited and listener wants to help deal with it but obvi cant let him move cause he's "injured", guess the listener will have to do all the work ;)", Irrelevant listener asked "I’d definitely be here for a NSFW of Marc Spector love Steven but Marc would be amazing !!".

I know submissive Marc specifically wasn't asked for, but I'm a bit fan of dom Steven and sub Marc because I think it subverts expectations. Also Marc deserves to be called a 'good boy'. However, of course I'm fine with doing dom Marc audios in the future, we just hadn't had a sub speaker audio in a while.

.

Old public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]

[soranatus]

Midnight animals By IxpertishVela

[oddballwriter]

Dwelling in the Night

Series Masterlist

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: There's a new vigilante figure out on the streets at night. And there's also a new neighbor on the same floor as Steven and the rest of the boys.  

Warnings: Mentions of blood, dead bodies, crime, all that. Reader is a vampire so it's implied that they consume blood and all that. Also, Y/N kills, but the act is never actually written or depicted. Steven being dumb and clueless for reasons of the plot. This is mostly Steven-centric and Marc-centric but Jake's here too but doesn't really do anything for the plot other than simply have some lines that progress the plot. Gender-neutral reader with they/them being used for them. Heads up, it does get a bit confusing in one part but I think it's fine.  

Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting and it's currently 1:30 am. Honestly, anything to stall my studying for an exam for one of my classes. I wrote this fucking unit of a shot involving my love for vampire Y/N's just to do it.

Notes: Please appreciate vampire reader. We need more of that in the x reader community. I as a reader would love for that to happen more often. Thank you.

Word count: 2,600~

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

The system took pride in their patrolling. Even if it was still doing work for Khonshu, they were still free in what they did when coming across a criminal rather than being yapped at. It brought a sort of satisfaction of taking, or at least scaring, another threat off the street. But things were getting weird, and slightly disturbing.

Criminals had started to drop like flies with a theme of them being found in dark alleys with bitten throats, but there was never any blood to be found that made sense with their wounds. Just their pale corpses with looks of fear or shock in their glazed-over eyes.

Jake admired the simple tactic of scaring off would be scum by the fear of being the next person in the obituaries, but he had to admit that the method of doing that was unsettling. He just killed them and let whoever came across the scene be shucked with cleaning the mess.

Marc worried that this other party wasn't actually someone necessarily on "the right side" and this was an actual threat to the public that just so happened to have a streak going with having their victims coincidentally being criminals.

It wasn't until they came across two cases that proved that worry otherwise.

The first was a girl they found running around the alleys in a panic. When they went to her and asked if she was okay, she was babbling about something in her panting. "There was this guy! He dragged me into the alleys, he held up a knife to me and was threatening me!" she explained pointing in the general direction, but she kept talking "But this... in the shadows, there were these two glowing lights, like eyes! And this person came out from there and grabbed them." she said. "I just ran off I didn't know where to go! They were blocking off the way to the street." she exclaimed.

It was actually Steven who was fronting then. He helped her calm down and led her out of the alley system and back in to get the perp and maybe help whoever got him away from the poor woman. But when he found the guy, he was like all the others he and the system had heard about.

Dead with a bitten throat, fear on their face, and hardly any blood in the pool for it to make sense.

The second was with Marc himself. He dropped in on a duo of muggers who cornered a young man, getting a left hook in on one of them. But his buddy ran off into the dark and dank alleys to get away. Marc needed to do a few more punches to get the first down and out before chasing after the second, but he swore he could've seen a figure follow after them in the corner of his vision.

He heard the sound of what must have been the guy's scream as soon as Marc moved on.

But when Marc got there, he was already on the wet brick floor writhing and grabbing at his neck. He saw them. A figure in the shadows where the backlights couldn't reach to show them in all say for a silhouette, had ducked into another alley. "Hey!" Marc called to them before chasing after them. But when he turned the corner, they were gone, only seeing a complete dead end.

When Marc came back to the guy, he found him trying to breathe through a gargled, and bitten, throat. He tried his best to help the guy since he was still alive. Unfortunately, bites to the jugular weren't kind injuries to those who are dealt them.

🩸🩸🩸

"I don't understand," Steven mutters as Marc slides back into their flat after patrolling and finding a few more crooks who came across this other person. "Why the injuries to the neck? And how is there hardly any blood?" he questions, "There's nowhere for it to go. There's nowhere for them to go. They just come out of nowhere and pick these blokes off and leave in such a short moment.".

"I don't know. And I don't think I want to know. This freak's keeping the load easier for us by doing whatever they're doing with these guys." Marc says, emphasizing the word 'freak'. "Hey, watch who you're calling a freak, amigo. We aren't exactly normal either." Jake says, mostly joking. "Yeah, sure. But we're not the one who's having our guys come up without a drop of blood left in them." Marc defends.

A crash is heard from nearby, in the flat next door.

"The hell's going on over there?" Marc muttered to himself as a reaction to the sound, but Steven said a name almost instantly.

"Who?" Marc asked.

"It's Y/N. They're our neighbor. They moved in a few months ago." Steven answered. "I've never heard of them." Marc comments before Steven quips back with "That's because you two hardly meet anybody.".

"Give me the body for a bit. I want to check on them. That sounded like something big fell over." Steven requests. Marc shrugs and switches out after briefly instructing "Put the body to sleep when you're done.".

Steven un-summons the suit, steps out into the hallway, steps towards your door, and knocks. After a beat, the door opens enough to have your head pop through, but not enough to show the rest of your flat like a fully opened door would. Which he didn't really mind, you always did this whenever he or anyone would knock. "Hello." Steven greets you with a little smile.

You look worried at seeing him in front of you. "I heard a pretty loud noise come from your flat. Is everything okay?" Steven asked. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I knocked over a shelf." you answer. Steven is shocked for a bit, "A shelf? My word. Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lift it back up?" Steven stresses as he moves to the side to peak into your flat to see how bad the damage is. But you quickly pull back in and tighten the width of the open door to a sliver , making him unable to see the inside with a "No!".

He pulls away, startled at the sudden reaction.

You open the door back up to step out again. "I'm sorry about that." you timidly apologize. "It's fine. I can pick it back up on my own. Thank you for offering to help and for your concern." you say. "There's some blood on your hand." Steven notices. You pull your hand behind your back at the realization. "It's fine. I'll clean it up myself." you blurt out as you go back into your flat with a quick "Good night, Steven." before closing and re-locking the door behind you, all before he can properly react.

"Good night?" Steven repeats back in confusion.

"That was weird." Marc comments, exposing that he had watched the whole thing go down. "Yeah. They... are a bit strange. They don't really come out most of the day." Steven explains. "Why were they up this late?" Jake buds in, having seen it all too. "It's nearly four in the morning and they look wide awake and aren't in any pajamas." Jake adds.

The next time Steven saw you, you were bringing a huge box into your apartment a few days after that night.

"Need help?" he asked. "Sure. It's actually really hard to drag around." you admit. As he picked up the other end of the large, and heavy, box and walked with your pace into your flat you spoke. "I'm sorry about the noise and acting weird a few nights ago. I was just embarrassed from having woken you up." you explain. Steven gently huffs, "No need to apologize. I wasn't asleep anyways. I was pulling an all-nighter like you were." Steven reassures. You look at him for a moment, "Oh right. Yeah. I do that a lot. I do better with work at night." you remark.

You two manage to get the box past some things it would have bumped, into and into the space between the space of your bedroom and living room. That's when he sees that there's no bed there in your bedroom area, glancing at the box to see a depiction of a bed frame.

"Changing furniture?" Steven asks. "Yeah. I already sold my old one." you say. Steven quarks a brow, "When? Have you had to sleep on your sofa-?" he asks as he turns towards your living room area before interrupting himself with a "Woah!".

There in the area, where a coffee table should be, was an authentic-looking coffin. "Quite the decor there." Steven comments with a breathy little chuckle. "Yeah. I like the look it had." you claim.

Looking around your flat for the first time, Steven could see it. It wasn't exactly goth per se, but there was a weirdly somber and antique look to your decor. It had that same attic look that Steven's did, but you had an attic feel of that of an abandoned house that was left for the dust bunnies to call home. Almost haunted house-esk with the draw curtains adding to it all.

"Is someone in there?" Steven jokes, mostly to himself. "No." you stutter out, "But it does still open." you mention as you walk towards it to show him by lifting the lid.

And, wow. It was real. It still had the pale pink padding and even the pillow inside of it, still pristine as ever, ignoring a couple of scratches on the outside wood.

"Impressive. How'd you even get your hands on this?" Steven asked. You thought for a moment, most likely trying to recall the answer to that question. "Some funeral places have spares that never got sold. So they sell them for a much cheaper price." you say.

Steven nodded as he took another look at the coffin.

"Well, it really is a nice touch." Steven complimented. "Thank you." you reply with a sigh.

🩸🩸🩸

Again.

And again.

One alley crawler dead and paled out after another.

Finding the bodies seemed to become a normal accordance for the boys when they were out doing their rounds around the city. Whoever this was at least started to lean the bodies against the wall after doing the deed now so that there wasn't just some corpse in the middle of the alley's street.

He was still finding the people this person 'saved' too. With them saying the same thing each time. Talking about a person in the shadows with a pair of glowing eyes being the only visible thing about them and then having gotten whatever criminal tried their luck yanked away into the said shadows with a scream echoing as the victim ran to safety.

They never see the actual person though. They don't seem to wear a costume like they do. No mask. No suit. Their only identity keeper they have being that of the shadows that exist beyond any light sources. The only sign of it being them is just the animal-like glow of their eyes. And one brutal calling card for those who came to see where they were.

Tonight was different.

Marc heard the sound of gunshots and rushed to the scene. But he found someone running for their life trying to leave already. He grabs a hold of them, thinking it was a person escaping a forceful mugging till they tried to aim a gun at him. Thankfully, he manages to subdue them.

"That thing tried to get me!" they shouted frantically as they attempted to get loose. "You gotta let me go, man. I don't want to be another body found around here." they beg.

"They tried robbing someone." a voice rings through.

Marc, and also the person he was holding down, looked towards where it came from. He notices the eyes first, with their white pearly glow surrounded by the rest of their shadowy form. The eyes almost looked like the system when they wore their suits, though it was dimmer, just enough to pierce through the darkness, and looked more like the glow was coming from the irises than the whole eye.

"I stopped them before they could pounce. This one was holding more firepower than most. I didn't want to have to risk it." the voice spoke again.

It felt a little haunting. The glow was almost disarming somehow, and their voice was calm and collected as it naturally echoed through the walls of the buildings, and sounding almost familiar. Marc stood there just staring at them till the person he was holding started thrashing harder in his hold, "Let me go, that thing's going to fucking kill me! I swear to god!" they pleaded.

"You're in his court now. You aren't my issue anymore." the silhouette says looking towards the person from where they were before looking back up at Marc.

"Sorry about me leaving my actual catches around." the silhouette apologizes. "I have nowhere to put them." they add as an explanation.

"Why kill them?" Marc questioned, speaking before really thinking. "You kill some of yours don't you, Moonknight? I don't see why you're judging me." the silhouette remarks. "I meant in the way that you do. I just kill them and leave them. You do... something to them." Marc speaks, hesitating for a second at the latter end.

The silhouette stays silent for a second seemingly striking their eyebrow from the way their eyes move. "I have reasons to do it that you probably wouldn't like to hear." they say. "We're doing the same work either way. My method is just more intense than yours tends to be." they comment before slipping back and disappearing into the shadows.

Marc calls out a "Wait!" but gets nothing in return.

He's just left alone with a scared shitless would-have-been mugger and more questions.

🩸🩸🩸

"Hey!" Steven calls out as he does a brief jog over to you in the hallway. "About time I catch you out in the day." Steven jokes. "Oh. Hello, Steven. Yeah. I needed to run some errands." you say, giving an explanation for the rare occurrence. "Good thing you've come back. It's been overcast all day and would rain at any minute." Steven comments.

"Anyways. I knocked on your door yesterday but you didn't come to the door at all." Steven mentions. "Oh. Really? I'm sorry. I'm usually asleep in the day because of my all-nighters." you claim.

"Really? You've got to be the hardest sleeper then. You're like the dead in there. I knocked hard for a while." Steven explains. "So I've been told." you nervously laugh. "You must be real tired if you usually sleep in the day then," he comments. "Yeah. But I have to deal with it." you say.

"What did you need?" you ask.

"Oh. Nothing from me. I was told to tell you, by the landlord, that there would be a check of the fire alarm system next week and that some might go off." Steven explains. "They tried to knock on your door the day before I knocked, but I guess you were asleep." Steven says. "Yeah. I probably was." you reply, "I'll send them an e-mail or something telling them about my sleep schedule." you mutter to yourself.

"Well, nice running into you. Go get yourself some rest." Steven says as he bids you goodbye by patting your shoulder. "Be sure to wrap yourself in something warm too. You're a bit cold." he adds.

[soft-girl-musings]

Jhonsi's Infinite Playlists

updated 8/12/24

since this is officially A Thing for me, figured i'd put all my playlists in one place for you (read: myself)

steven's morning routine gets some pep in his step (feat. a few songs the others added to mess with him)

late-night driving with jake means lots of tuneage to keep you awake

POV: marc's having a bad night, you help him cry it out

(fic inspo/vibes) the soundtrack to my own delusions

Moon Knight fighting playlist? Moon Knight fighting playlist.

save a horse, fight a cowboy or smth idk

ya like jazz, lockley?

je suis girlfailure

memory is a monster.

free my girl claudia she didn't deserve all that

[gotham-at-nightfall]

Back from the dead, it’s a new era for Moon Knight!

Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu #0