#vampire simp

Working during your period is almost unbearable. Luckily, there's a faithful customer who always know exactly what you need.

vampire x fem!reader

You feel like you’re being stabbed in your lower belly. The pain slows your movements, while the line grows longer. The painkillers you took earlier were not strong enough to bring you relief. You hear some customers muttering under their breath.

Sweating is dripping off your skin, whereas you do your best to keep smiling. The boss wouldn't be happy if he saw you with a grumpy face. This clearly isn’t your dream job, but it’s the one that pays the rent. Your college diploma is lying in your drawer back home, which almost makes you regret your choice of graduation.

The night goes on, and little by little the place starts to empty out. You sigh in relief when you glance at the clock and realize there are only fifteen minutes left before your shift ends.

You begin tidying up the bar, but stop when you hear someone come in. You almost let out a curse, but quickly regret it when you see who the newcomer is.

Tall, pale, and wearing a subtle smile, your favorite customer approaches, carrying a paper bag in one hand. He apologizes for arriving so late and orders the same drink as always. The two of you start chatting about random things. It’s impressive how easily he makes you feel relaxed. Getting this close to a customer is against the rules, but you just can’t help it.

It’s been three months since he started coming to the bar. At first, he didn’t talk much. You can’t quite remember when the two of you began to grow closer. It just happened naturally. As he slowly sips his drink, he asks about your obvious discomfort. Embarrassed, you say it’s just a headache.Before leaving, the kind customer offers you the bag. You discover it’s full of candy and chocolates. You try to refuse, but he won’t take no for an answer.It’s not the first time he’s brought you gifts. Nothing expensive or extravagant, just small things a good friend might bring.

Sometimes, you wonder if there might be some romantic interest behind his actions. You don’t want to get your hopes up, since he’s never asked you out. Maybe he’s just a really nice guy.

You go home feeling a little better. You take a hot shower, put on your favorite pajamas, and before going to bed, you take another look inside the bag. You feel something at the bottom of it, and when you pull it out, you realize it’s a heating pad.

You find it strange. Maybe he forgot it there. You promise yourself you’ll return it the next time you see him, but for now, you lie down with it resting on your lower belly.

The warmth eases the cramps almost immediately, and you fall asleep feeling grateful.

vampire! pov

He watches as his new favorite human goes home. You walk carelessly across the empty streets, head in the clouds, which makes him worry about your safety. It has become an addictive habit: watching over you.

He hides behind the shadows, using his dark gift to stay unnoticed. The scent of your blood is so intoxicating he has to feed every time before meeting you, afraid of losing control of his hunger.

How he wishes he could be the one taking care of you tonight. However, he has to take things slow, and winning your trust is his top priority. Your friendship bond seems to grow stronger, and he already made you blush two or three times.

But it’s not enough, the annoying voice inside his head reminds him. The matter in hand is that he wants more than sucking your blood. He has developed feelings for you. Apparently, the passage of time has not made him immune to getting a crush.

When he finally tears your soft skin with his fangs, he wants you to be conscious and willing. And that would take some time. Fortunately, he has plenty of It.

Thank you for reading 🖤

We have a part two now!

@almostfoxglove and @auteurdelabre are some of my fav ppcu authors on here. they write stories that involve less popular or less well known characters he plays like max phillips from bloodsucking bastards.

they have written my two favorite stories of max and i was inspired to do art for both of them.

the first is 'the prettiest' by @almostfoxglove.

After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in. Now he'll do anything it takes to have you.

for reasons i can't explain without spoiling the story this sketch involves max and a new shirt.

(she also wrote 'sounds dangerous' which is another amazing max one).

the other sketch is from 'the roommate agreement'

Facing eviction you're desperate for a roommate, even if it comes in the form of the strange and often brash Max Phillips. What you don't understand is why he only works nights, why you never see him eat and why strange noises are coming from his room during the day. . . .

i don't want to spoil things but this was one of my fav scenes from the story. i could imagine it so clearly in my head that i had to draw it right away.

i wanted to post all the art i have for these authors and their stories but won't in case they don't want me to.

1000/10, immaculate, no notes.

my man.... i need him....

Russian vampire to the rescue!

fem!reader x vampire

tw: sexual assault attempt, poverty and violence

Rush hour. Workers jumped off the train, in a hurry, eager to get home and finally rest. In that context, “rest” meant taking a quick shower and sleeping a few hours before the cycle began again.

 In the square in front of the station, around a deactivated fountain, pigeons circled in search of crumbs, also exhausted from spending the whole day looking for food. Nearby, a man lying on a piece of cardboard gestured and talked to himself under the twilight light.

There were also street artists. A young man, his face painted white, juggled while pedaling a unicycle.

 And there was you, with your guitar, your oldest friend, singing one of your original songs, a hat with a few coins lying on the ground.

Most passersby walked right past you. You couldn’t judge them. You just hoped your music would reach at least one heart. Alright, you also hoped to earn enough money to at least cover the cost of the trip back home.

Freshly-graduated, you worked at a school as a music teacher in the mornings and, the rest of the time, devoted yourself to what truly made you happy. You always alternated original compositions with covers of famous songs, recording videos for social media, dreaming of going viral one day.

The stars decorated the night sky. It was time to go home: a small apartment you shared with a friend. You packed your instrument away, counted the coins, and sighed.

The train ride was quick. You lived in a neighborhood twenty minutes from downtown, which was a positive point. The negative point was that, since it was a mostly residential and poor area, almost no one walked the streets after dark.

 You could swear you felt a presence, a shadow watching from the corner of your eye. You took your keys out of your pocket, gripping them in a way that you could use them as a weapon if necessary.

Male laughter echoed in the darkness.

“Hey, pretty girl, don’t you want to sing a song for us?”

You turned your head just enough to notice two men coming behind you. You quickened your pace, your heart racing.

Just one more block. Just one more block and you would be home.

Despite your faster pace, the two men caught up to you easily. One of them tried to grab your arm, but you fought back, which only made him more nervous. The other held you from behind, snatching the keys from your hand.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Your worst nightmare.

Even though you weren’t a religious person, you closed your eyes and prayed, asking for help.

Before you could open your eyes, your body was hit by a shower of a warm, iron-scented liquid.

You opened your eyes and, in shock, saw the bodies of the two attackers thrashing on the ground, without their heads.

In front of you, a tall, pale, masculine figure licked the blood from his fingers.

You fainted.

You have no idea how long you were unconscious. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself wearing only your underwear, immersed in a bathtub filled halfway. The hot water bubbling against your skin was reddish.

With a weak body and a numb mind, you looked around, trying to locate yourself in space and time.

You heard him before you saw him, murmuring a song in… Russian? You weren’t sure.

With his back turned to you, the tall man from before seemed to be looking for something in the bathroom cabinet. Cascades of golden strands fell down his back.

He seemed to feel your gaze and turned around. His face looked as if it had been sculpted by a classical artist.

“Are you… an angel?”

His expression softened immediately, and with a subtle smile, he walked to the bathtub, crouching until he was at the level of your eyes.

“How sweet. No, lyubov moya, I am not.”

After answering you, he extended a hand.

“Let’s get this filthy blood off you,” he said, holding out the hand that carried a sponge soaked in soap.

A small part of your brain reminded you that you should be afraid, but an even stronger force suppressed it.

The stranger scrubbed your skin gently, as if he were handling fine porcelain. You wanted to sleep.

Before you could fully give in to sleep, he stopped the caress, which made you grumble. He laughed softly and encouraged you to stand up.

“We need to change these clothes first.”

He covered you with a robe, and you made an effort to remove the wet underwear. After putting on a loose black shirt with the stranger’s help, he led you to the bed.

You woke up with an intense headache. Your memories of the previous night were scrambled. When you didn’t recognize the place you were in, you panicked. You stood up and, after examining the entire room and the attached bathroom, realized it was a hotel.

You were alone.

How had you ended up there?

You found your clothes folded in a drawer in the closet, stained with blood. What the hell…?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a doorbell. You walked to the door and opened it, suspicious.

On the other side, a smiling maid holding a tea cart greeted you.

Without reacting, you simply stepped aside for the kind lady, who positioned the cart next to the bed and left.

You approached, smelling the irresistible scent of a breakfast you couldn’t afford.

Toast, French bread, fine cheeses, ham, nuts, yogurt, apple pies, fresh cakes. Pitchers filled with cold water, juices, and a cup of coffee.

Hunger spoke louder, and you reached out to grab a piece of toast, but stopped when you noticed an envelope.

You opened it slowly, afraid of tearing the paper. Inside, a message:

                                                         “My dear,                                                Please enjoy your stay.                              There is no need to worry about trivial details.

                                                Your humble servant,                                                               Ilya.”

Hello, everyone! I'm writing the script for my next Visual Novel with this exact premise. Would you be interested in playing it?

A vampire takes care of you after losing control on the first date.

vampire x you

vampire x fem! reader

it's part 3 but you can read it as a standalone

part 3 | part 2 | part 1

You woke up, but didn’t open your eyes right away. A strong scent of incense was the first thing your senses registered. With a heavy body and scattered thoughts, you turned slightly, immediately feeling a sharp sting in your arm and the brush of silk sheets against your skin.

You finally became fully awake, only to slip into panic at not recognizing where you were. Dark furniture seemed to dance in the dim light. Or was it your head that was spinning?

On the inside of your left elbow, an IV line carried a brownish liquid from a bag into your bloodstream. Desperate, you yanked it out, and a stream of blood ran down your arm.

Cursing under your breath, you tried to stop the bleeding with your hand, uselessly. You also tried to sit up, but your weakened muscles failed to fight against gravity.

The sound of footsteps and the door opening startled you, and, unable to move properly, you murmured a quick prayer.

The lamp was switched on, and the sudden brightness caused a brief moment of blindness. When your vision returned and you recognized who had just entered the room, you began to tremble.

Memories of the previous night came crashing back like a violent avalanche.

“Y-you!” you tried to shout, but it came out more like a whimper.

The tall, pale man—or rather, the tall, pale creature—dared to look at you as if he were saddened. He raised his hands in surrender and said:

“I know I scared you, truly, but I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Hard to believe after last night.”

“I understand, but I’m the best option you have right now. If you go to a hospital or the police and try to tell them what happened, they’ll probably refer you to a psychiatrist.”

It was horrible to admit, but there was truth in those words. You yourself didn’t fully believe what had happened, your mind struggling in vain to find a logical, rational explanation.

“I’m having a nightmare,” you said more to yourself than to him.

“I’m so sorry it happened like this. That wasn’t the plan,” you heard him sigh. “I owe you a better explanation, but please, let me take care of you.”

“How can I trust that you won’t… hurt me again?”

He opened and closed his mouth twice, his lower lip trembling, before saying, “That’s a fair question. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without another word, he left you alone. With your mind a little clearer, you noticed there were no windows in the room, and the only exit was the door the creature had just walked through.

True to his word, he returned quickly, holding a small ivory chest decorated with golden arabesques. A silver key was used to open it, revealing a wooden stake at least thirty centimeters long, its tip extremely sharp.

Carefully, the creature removed the object and offered it to you.

“Take it,” he placed the stake in your hand. “And hold it tight. If you feel in danger… there’s poison on the tip, and even if you don’t land a killing blow, it’ll be enough to stop me from causing harm.”

Driven by survival instinct, you tried to strike him, managing to make a shallow cut on his forearm. The wound necrotized instantly, and you heard him gasp. You waited for a violent defensive reaction, but nothing happened.

“May I take care of you now?” he asked softly. You simply nodded and watched him organize the medical supplies spread across the dresser beside you.

“What’s in the bag?” you asked, as he gently cleaned the blood from your arm with gauze.

“Iron diluted in saline.”

Well, that made sense. He reinserted the IV carefully, watching for signs of pain or discomfort in his temporary patient.

Before you could verbally express your hunger, your stomach acted faster and let out a loud, embarrassing sound.

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” he said solemnly, leaving the room once again.

Moments later, the creature returned with a silver tray holding a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of water.

You adjusted your position in bed, preparing to eat. However, despite the overwhelming need for food, something inside you stopped you midway.

Noticing your hesitation, he dipped one of the spoons into the bowl and took a generous sip of the soup. To hold a utensil, you would have to let go of the stake, which was out of the question.

As if he could read your mind, the creature took it upon himself to feed you. Only fair, after all, the opposite had happened the night before. He blew on each spoonful before bringing it to your lips, serving you gently and looking at you with a kind of devotion that almost made you wish the moment would last longer.

It would be so nice to have such an attentive boyfriend… if only he hadn’t tried to drain all your blood on the first date.

A dreadful thought crossed your mind, and you tightened your grip on the stake.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, I… I thought about you drinking my blood and got scared.”

He rested the spoon on the bowl and looked at you seriously.

“What happened yesterday was unexpected for me too. You have every right not to believe me, but my plans involved a normal romantic evening, maybe even a kiss at the end.”

With every word, he sounded more melancholic.

“And what happened?”

“Bloodlust. It’s more common in newly turned vampires, and it can also appear, though less intensely, when one becomes… especially interested in someone. When I heard your heart racing in fear, the predator in me lost control,” he paused, reflecting. “Not that it’s a good excuse. I’m old enough not to have such visceral episodes. All these months, I’ve been so careful… and I failed in the end.”

Not knowing what to say, you simply expressed your desire to finish your meal. He didn’t pressure you to speak, just continued treating you with the same careful attention.

Your eyelids began to close involuntarily, sleep brought on by digestion. The vampire forced you to stay awake a little longer to avoid possible discomfort. Then he covered you and adjusted the pillows behind your head.

“Rest well, my love,” he whispered before leaving.

Your entire body relaxed, except for the hand holding the stake. That one remained tense even as you drifted into the world of dreams.

I didn't expect to write this sequence. Are you enjoying it? Do you want more or do you prefer new plots?

vampire x you

you may read part one, but it works as a standalone!

edit: now we have part 3

Things go terribly wrong on the first date.

After months of dancing around each other, your favorite customer finally asked you out. It had been almost two years since you last went out with a man, and for a moment, you feared you might have forgotten how to kiss.

The plan was for him to pick you up at work. When the clock hit fifteen minutes before the end of your shift, you rushed to the restroom, changed your clothes, sprayed a bit of perfume on the back of your neck, and painted your lips a crimson red. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt a little more confident.

He was punctually British. With tousled hair nearly reaching his shoulders, casual clothes, and the scent of expensive cologne, he greeted you with a charming smile and handed you a single rose the same shade as your lipstick.

Your legs instantly turned to jelly. He courted you in an old-fashioned way while looking at you with a gaze that promised trouble.

You went to the movies to watch the new installment of your favorite slasher franchise. Yes, you were terribly scared of horror movies and would probably sleep with the lights on for the rest of the week, but what could you do? You loved the characters and the dreadful lore.

Armed with chocolate bars in your purse, you weren’t too surprised when he insisted on buying you the overpriced popcorn at the concession stand. You accepted, promising that next time would be on you.

It was the last showing of the night, and the theater was empty except for two other couples, each sitting at opposite ends.

Noticing the strategic arrangement, you blushed like a high schooler. Yeah, you were definitely rusty.

You were embarrassed to realize the movie had barely started and half the popcorn was already gone. You began insisting he eat some too, but he claimed he was allergic to corn. At that moment, you felt even more self-conscious and selfish.

The scary part of the movie began, and you got distracted. You shut your eyes and shrank at every possible jumpscare, which made him chuckle. However, as the movie went on, he grew strangely silent.

Blood splattered across the screen, and you grabbed his hand, startled to notice that his skin was unnaturally cold.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, but a thought struck you. Maybe he was also afraid of horror movies and had only agreed to watch it to go out with you.

“Do you want to leave?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he slid his long, pale fingers along your arm.

“Are you that scared?” he asked. “Your pulse is racing.”

“I can make it through the movie, but if you’re not comfortable, we can lea—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off.

You continued watching, the silence occasionally broken by screams from the small audience.

The ending was disappointing. It was clear the writers had tried to surprise the audience, but it ended up making no sense.

You left the theater and started walking toward his car. He seemed to avoid looking at you directly, and you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Anxious, you couldn’t wait long before asking:

“Did something happen?”

“Your pulse is still racing,” he replied without looking at you. “I can hear your heart beating.”

“Who are you, Superman? Stop messing around and tell me what’s going on.”

“Having a reaction like that at my age isn’t normal.”

He was making even less sense now, so you stepped closer and grabbed his arm.

“At least look at me,” you almost pleaded.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Stop speaking in riddles!”

Suddenly, he grabbed you by the waist and pushed you against the car door, pressing your bodies together.

He finally looked at you: His sclera reddened, his pupils dilated, giving his handsome face a hellish appearance. Even without fully understanding what was happening, a primal fear rose within you, and you gathered all your strength to break free.

 It was useless.

“Now you’re even more scared” he whispered in your ear, his voice unnaturally deeper as he placed a hand over your heaving chest. “And I… want you so badly… you smell so good, my love…”

He tightened his hold and began kissing your face feverishly and desperately.

“But I won’t kiss your lips tonight… No, this moment… will be special, I promise.”

“L-let me go,” you tried to struggle again, but he held you with the strength of a madman. Warm tears rolled down your face as you closed your eyes and accepted your fate.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I won’t. My beautiful girl. I took so many precautions to prevent this… You’ll forgive me, won’t you? Tell me you’ll forgive me.”

“Look at me,” he asked, or rather, commanded.

Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, only to be met with an even more distorted, monstrous expression. His canines had lengthened down toward his chin, and suddenly, a wave of terror and recognition washed over you.

“It won’t hurt… I promise…” he said, moments before leaning over your neck and piercing it with his pair of fangs.

At least he told the truth. You could feel the flesh being torn, but it didn’t hurt, as if the area had been numbed beforehand. Warm blood poured into his mouth as he drank it, as though savoring the most delicate and exquisite dessert.

Your fear slowly gave way to the comforting darkness of unconsciousness… You collapsed in his arms, and he held you even tighter, forcing his fangs deeper.

What did you think of this dark and angst plot twist?