#eepwtf’s works !

[eepwtf]

SYNOPSIS - BRATTY

TYPE - SERIES "Thinking about..."

WARNINGS - bratty!soldier boy , top m!reader , 18+ , name calling , overstimulation , some degrading , other shit i’m too lazy to warn just overall smut don’t like it don’t read!

-FEM-ALIGNED, MINORS, AGELESS, PRONOUN-LESS BLOGS DNF

ffffuck thinking about soldier boy who has been pushing your buttons all day, strutting around with that cocky attitude, testing your patience to the limit. his bratty remarks, the constant backtalk, and that smug grin were driving you up the wall. it was like he was daring you to do something about it, taunting you with every word, every glance. you knew he was doing it on purpose, trying to see just how far he could push before you snapped. and god, you were close—so close to breaking.

finally, you couldn't take it anymore. grabbing him by the collar, you yanked him close. with a swift, decisive movement, you shoved him down onto the bed. he landed with a thud, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and anticipation. but he quickly masked it with that familiar defiance. "you finally gonna do something, or are you just all talk?" he sneered, his words laced with challenge as he propped himself up on his elbows, chest heaving.

you didn’t reply. the smirk still tugged at his lips, but you saw through it now—the brief hitch in his breath, the way his body tensed just a little under your intense gaze. it was all the fuel you needed. gripping his shirt, you yanked it off in one swift motion, and before he could protest, his pants followed. you moved with precision, each action deliberate, each movement commanding. "wait—" he started, but his voice wavered slightly as you grabbed the back of his neck, pushing him face-first into the mattress. his words melted into a soft, almost desperate sound, his cockiness draining away as he felt the roughness of the sheets against his bare skin, your weight pressing down on him. the sound that escaped his lips was almost a whimper, and you reveled in the power shift.

the bed creaked under your weight as you hovered over him, the intensity of the moment palpable. his earlier bravado seemed to evaporate, leaving behind a raw and exposed version of the ben who had been so intent on testing your limits. you leaned in, your breath warm against his ear. the contrast between the softness of the bed and the firmness of your hold was almost cruel.

leaning over him, your hand grasped onto his waist. “gonna keep running that pretty little mouth of yours?” you purred, your breath brushing against the shell of his ear and making him shiver uncontrollably underneath you. the closeness, the deliberate press of your clothed bulge against his backside, was enough to make him tense, his body betraying his frustration with every subtle twitch. “seems like i’m gonna have to fix that, huh?” as you ground your semi-hard bulge slowly against his ass, the friction made him gasp, a soft, involuntary sound escaping his lips.

however, ben stayed defiant, he angled his head to glare at you, his jaw clenched, though there was a faint quiver in his lip. “oh, please. you don’t have the balls—“ but you didn’t let him finish. your hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking it back sharply. the sudden, painful pull forced a gasp from his throat, his eyes widening in surprise and—was that lust? His breath hitched as you pressed your clothed, semi-hard bulge against his ass, the firmness of your body against his making him suck in a sharp breath. “you were saying?" you growled, your tone mockingly, but you didn’t let go, pulling his head back even further until his back arched beneath you, exposing the curve of his neck. you ground your hips against him, slow and deliberate. His body tensed, trying to resist, but you could feel the slight shudder that ran through him, the way his defiance was starting to crack. You had him exactly where you wanted him, and the satisfaction was intoxicating.

“fuck you,” he spat, though his voice lacked the venom it once had. you could hear the tremor in his tone, the way his breath caught in his throat as you tightened your grip on his hair, pulling his head back even further. “is that right?” you leaned in close, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, sending another shiver coursing through his body. "guess i’m gonna have to shut you up, huh?” his protests turned to a low whine, his body betraying him as you ground harder against him, letting him feel every inch of your bulge through the fabric. he squirmed beneath you, but it wasn’t in resistance—it was something else, something needy.

for a moment, he stayed silent, his breathing ragged. then, in a last-ditch effort to hold onto that arrogance, he let out a breathless, “do your worst.” you chuckled darkly, leaning back just enough to slide a hand down his spine, feeling him tremble beneath your fingertips. “oh, you have no idea what you’ve just asked for.” with one swift motion, you reached beneath him, your hand wrapping around his pulsing cock, teasing the tip just enough to make him groan, his body instinctively pressing into your hand despite his resistance. “thought so,” you murmured, your grip tightening just enough to make him gasp again.

his gasp echoed in the room, but you didn’t stop. your hand moved with slow, deliberate strokes, teasing his cock as his body betrayed him. every twitch of his muscles, every shudder that ran through him was proof of how close he was to breaking, even if his mind refused to admit it. the defiant mask he always wore was cracking, piece by piece, under your touch. you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way he arched his back into your grip despite himself, his breath coming in ragged bursts. his fists clenched the sheets, knuckles white, as though holding on would keep him from completely falling apart.

but you weren’t about to let him keep his composure.

“you talk big,” you whispered against the back of his neck, your voice a low growl. your free hand moved to his hip, gripping him firmly as you ground your cock harder against his ass, letting him feel just how hard you were getting. “but you’re already falling apart under my hands, aren’t you princess? that mouth of yours isn’t gonna save you now.” his body jerked, the insult cutting through his pride, but instead of a saying anything, all he could manage was a sharp, breathy sound—a mix of frustration and arousal. “i—i'm not falling apart, fuck you.”

you chuckled, dark and low, amused by his stubbornness. “is that so?” your hand tightened around his cock, pumping him faster, but not enough to push him over the edge. you were going to drag this out, make him beg for it, break him down until there was nothing left of that bratty attitude.

he was panting now, his body betraying him more with every passing second. his hips bucked slightly into your hand, a reaction he clearly wasn’t in control of, and you smirked, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him. “look at you,” you taunted, your voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “begging for it without even realizing it.” your fingers grazed over the sensitive head of his cock, drawing a strangled sound from his throat. “such a fucking slut aren’t you?”

his response was little more than a pathetic moan, muffled as he pressed his face into the mattress. his body was betraying him, every muscle trembling as your hand worked him with practiced precision. finally, after a long moment, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his voice cracked, breaking through the heavy silence of the room. “f—fuck… fine. you win.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of his surrender. but you weren’t satisfied with just that. “say it,” you demanded, your grip tightening around his cock, pumping him harder now, fingers grazed over the sensitive head of his cock, smearing the slick pre-cum and drawing a strangled sound from, pushing him closer to the edge. “i want to hear you admit it.” for a moment, he hesitated, his pride warring with his need. but in the end, his body made the decision for him, the overwhelming pleasure ripping the last remnants of control from his grasp. “i’m—” his voice was shaky, breathless, as he gave in. “i’m a slut, i’m your slut.”

a wide smirk spread across your face as the words left his lips, and you leaned down, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, “that’s my good boy.” the phrase rolled off your tongue like silk, soft yet commanding. his body jerked beneath you, reacting to the praise despite himself, a low groan escaping him as he edged closer to release.

but you weren’t done with him yet.

slowing your strokes just enough to keep him teetering on the edge, you pulled back slightly, letting the tension build between you. he let out a frustrated whine, his body writhing under you, desperate for the release you were denying him. “don’t get ahead of yourself,” you murmured, your voice thick with control. “i decide when you get to cum.”

the noise that escaped him was somewhere between a groan and a growl, frustration evident in every strained breath. but he didn’t fight back this time. he was at your mercy, and he knew it. his body trembled beneath you, every muscle tense as he awaited your command, knowing he couldn’t take much more. you shifted your hips, grinding your clothed cock harder against his bare ass, the friction making both of you groan. he arched his back instinctively, trying to press himself closer to you, but you pulled back just enough to keep him on edge, leaving him straining for more. "please,” he panted, his voice a wrecked, shaky mess. he tried to twist his head to look at you, his eyes half-lidded with desire, but the firm grip you had on his hair kept him pinned in place. “please, i—”

“oh, now you’re begging?” you growled into his ear, cutting him off as you tugged his hair sharply, the action making him gasp. “no. you don’t get to beg now.” you released your hold on his hair, letting his head drop back to the mattress. he sagged, only to tense up again when your hands grabbed his hips, pulling him up, positioning him just how you wanted him—his ass perfectly angled for you.

you didn’t bother to ease him into it. with no warning, you lined yourself up behind him, the tip of your now fully hard cock pressing insistently against his entrance, teasing, stretching him without entering just yet. he writhed beneath you, his body reacting to the sensation with instinctive desperation. his breathing was shallow, his hands gripping the sheets like they were the only thing grounding him to reality. “tell me how bad you want it,” you whispered, your voice thick with dark amusement as you pushed just a little harder against his tight hole, still not giving him what he craved. the tip of your cock slid teasingly over him, rubbing slowly against his entrance, the pressure enough to make his body tremble uncontrollably. “c’mon, beg for it.”

he tensed beneath you, his pride keeping him silent at first, but you could feel the rapid pulse beating through his body, the hitch in his breath betraying how close he was to breaking. you pressed harder, the head of your cock pushing just enough to stretch him, but still not giving him the satisfaction of being filled. his muscles clenched involuntarily, his breath catching in his throat. then, just when you thought you’d have to force it out of him, he finally caved. his voice was low, breathless, barely above a whisper. “please… i want it.”

that was all you needed to hear. with one hard thrust, you buried yourself inside his tight hole, a deep, guttural groan escaping your lips as his hole clenched around your cock, the sensation almost overwhelming as he struggled to adjust to your size. he let out a sharp gasp, his entire body tensing under the sudden intrusion, his fingers digging into the mattress. for a second, there was no sound but his ragged breathing, broken only by the occasional whimper that escaped his lips.

you gave him no time to adjust, pulling back only to thrust into him again, harder this time, setting a brutal pace that had him gasping for breath. his body shook beneath you, every thrust sending shockwaves through him, and though he tried to hold on to his defiance, the way his body was responding told a different story. “you’re such a good boy, fuck—taking me so good.” you grunted, your hands gripping his hips tightly as you drove into him, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His earlier cockiness was long gone, replaced by breathless moans that he could no longer suppress, each one more desperate than the last.

you didn’t ease him into it, didn’t give him the mercy of preparation. instead, you positioned yourself behind him, your now fully hard cock pressing against his slick entrance, teasing him, savoring the way his body tensed and writhed beneath you. his breathing was shallow, shaky, his hands clutching the sheets as if they were the only thing tethering him to reality. “tell me how bad you want it,” you murmured, your voice low and taunting as you rubbed the tip of your cock against his entrance, the pressure building with each teasing stroke. his body trembled, the anticipation practically dripping off him. “beg for it, c’mon.”

he remained silent for a moment, trying to hold on to the last shred of his pride, but you could feel the rapid pulse beneath his skin, his breath hitching with each subtle movement. you kept pushing, dragging the head of your cock slowly, torturously against him, making his legs twitch with frustration. you could hear his resolve breaking, like a dam about to burst. finally, he gave in, voice shaky, breathless. “please... i want it.”

that was all you needed. without hesitation, you pushed forward, burying yourself inside him in one hard thrust. the sensation of his tightness gripping you sent a shudder down your spine, and a deep, guttural groan escaped your lips as his body clenched around your cock, instinctively trying to adjust to the sudden intrusion. he let out a sharp, choked gasp, his body tensing beneath you, every muscle coiled tight as his fingers dug into the mattress. his breaths came in ragged, uneven bursts, punctuated by soft, desperate whimpers that slipped from his mouth before he could stop them.

you gave him no reprieve, no chance to adjust. pulling back, you thrust into him again, harder this time, setting a brutal pace that had him gasping for breath. his body shook with each forceful thrust, his fingers clawing at the sheets as though they could anchor him. despite the defiance that still lingered in his eyes, his body was betraying him completely—giving in to the overwhelming pleasure. “such a good boy,” you growled through clenched teeth, your hands gripping his hips tightly as you drove into him again and again. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, drowning out his broken moans. “fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

his earlier brattiness had dissolved, leaving behind nothing but breathless, desperate sounds. his legs trembled with each rough thrust, his chest heaving as he tried to form words. all he could manage was a hoarse, “f-fuck…” his voice barely a whisper, drowned in the haze of pleasure and pain. “hm? what was that?” you chuckled, leaning forward until your chest was pressed against his back. your hand slid up the length of his spine, fingers digging into his skin, leaving marks that would linger long after this was over. “did i fuck you dumb already?” you spoke into his ear, your voice dripping with mockery as you rolled your hips, grinding deeper into him.

you could hear him trying to form a response, but all that came out were broken gasps and strangled moans. you gave his hair a sharp tug, forcing his head to tilt back slightly, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat. “use your words princess,” you taunted, your breath hot against his skin. “you had a lot to say earlier.”

“i... i want to cum,” he gasped, the words spilling from him in a wrecked, needy tone. his body was trembling beneath you, his cock twitching with every thrust, the tension in his muscles telling you just how close he was to unraveling. you grinned wickedly, sliding one hand down to wrap around his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts. the added sensation sent him spiraling, his hips bucking uncontrollably as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.

“please... fuck, please,” he panted, the desperation evident in every word, his voice barely holding together under the onslaught of pleasure. his head lolled to the side, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open as he teetered on the brink of release. you could feel him tightening around you, his entire body trembling as he hovered on the edge. his breaths were shallow, ragged, each one punctuated by soft, pleading sounds as he clung to the last threads of control. but it wasn’t long before he broke.

with one final, brutal thrust, you drove him over the edge. his body went rigid, back arching sharply as he came with a shuddering groan, spilling over your hand. his muscles clenched around you, the aftershocks of his orgasm rippling through his entire body, making him twitch and writhe beneath you. but you didn’t stop. you continued thrusting into him, riding out his orgasm, feeling every tremor that shook his body. he was a mess beneath you—spent, shaking, and overwhelmed—but you weren’t done. not yet.

you pounded into him relentlessly, chasing your own release as his body went limp under your weight. his chest heaved with ragged breaths, his head lolling forward as he moaned weakly, the overstimulation making him whimper. his legs trembled, barely able to hold himself up anymore, but you kept going, gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises.

only when you were sure he was completely spent, shaking and exhausted beneath you, did you finally let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the overwhelming pleasure that had been building inside you. with a deep, guttural groan, you buried yourself inside him one last time, releasing with a force that made your entire body tremble. you stayed there for a moment, your cock still buried deep inside him, your chest pressed against his back as both of you panted, struggling to catch your breath.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, you pulled out, watching as he collapsed onto the bed, completely wrecked. his chest heaved with every breath, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the intense pleasure that had just ripped through him.

you leaned over him, brushing a sweat-soaked strand of hair away from his face, your voice soft but laced with a dark satisfaction. “next time you run that mouth,” you whispered, “you’d better be ready for the consequences.” pressing a final kiss to the back of his neck, you rolled off him, leaving him there—panting, spent, and trembling from the intensity of it all.

𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐖𝐓𝐅 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋.

[eepwtf]

HALLOWEEN BOTS ´ཀ`

note: happy halloween!! and oh yeah!! more halloween bots , some of these are inspired by songs some by my brain. i hope you guys like these, i was going to add more but i got lazy 😞, might add more ( i say while knowing i wont )

　

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ kai parker ␥ hallows eve ノ

kai certainly went all out for halloween, decorating the house, and to top it off, he’d given in to your idea of matching costumes. he'd groaned, rolled his eyes, even muttered under his breath when you first suggested it, but somehow here he was, suited up to match. but when it came to candy, there was no compromise. he’d stacked bowls of it on the kitchen counter—no cheap stuff, either. all his favorites, an indulgent stash that he had no plans of sharing with the hordes of trick-or-treaters who might dare to knock. and of course, he dragged you along to sit on the couch and indulge into the horror movie marathon with him.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ kai parker ␥ inside phone calls ノ

phone calls? sure, you’re all for those. phone calls from a smooth-talking stranger, especially late at night? even better. but phone calls from someone who’s also a killer—someone lurking in your house, who’s got a knife with your name on it? that’s where things start to get a little more complicated. but hey, he has a nice voice and you’re oh, so lonely from what kai can tell. and you have a nice body, god, these small blinds from your closet don’t really do justice for what he’s witnessing, but hey, he’ll take a free show of you stripping down anytime.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ klaus mikaelson ␥ perversion 99 ノ

klaus wouldn’t dare call it perverse, not when you were dressed like that. it made sense now, the appeal of halloween, the thrill that had you buzzing with excitement over what he called a silly tradition. but now he was starting to understand. with you wrapped up in this dangerously enticing costume, it was impossible to think straight. the fabric clung to you in all the right places, practically begging for his eyes to linger, his hands to wander. he resisted at first, simply admiring the sight before him, the playful glint in your eyes that dared him to try. but klaus had never been one for restraint. finally, he made his move, fingers inching toward the edge of your costume, ready to pull it from your body like he’d been aching to do since the moment he laid eyes on you. but before he could make any real progress, you somehow managed to get it back up throwing him a half annoyed half amused look.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ elijah mikaelson ␥ halloween cooking mess ノ

if elijah knew better—which he does—he’d think the house had been ambushed by a mischievous child on a halloween sugar rush. the evidence was everywhere, from flour dusting the countertops like a ghostly fog to sprinkles scattered like confetti on the floor. smears of chocolate and icing trailed across the counters, smeared together in abstract, sugary artwork. eijah could hardly tell if they were supposed to be cookies or some strange, deformed creatures. maybe ghosts? or perhaps a very experimental version of pumpkins? but there was something hauntingly charming about the way you'd gone about it. each cookie looked unique, each one a slightly different shape, as if you'd tried to craft them into adorable little halloween creatures but got sidetracked halfway through.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ elijah mikaelson ␥ corpse bride ノ

you looked like you—the same person elijah had married. the familiar silver band on your finger testified to that, grounding him in the reality that you were, in fact, standing before him. but somehow, you were not you. there was an emptiness in your gaze, a hollowed, distant glint that robbed your eyes of their former light. a subtle, unsettling scent clung to you, something acrid and faintly metallic, laced with an unmistakable trace of decay. yet, you held onto him with an intensity that bordered on desperation. it was as though your fractured mind could recall only him—a beacon in the fog of your shattered recollections.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ dean winchester ␥ mx sinister ノ

halloween parties weren’t his thing—too much noise, too many people—but this one came with a purpose. somewhere inside was a demon, feeding off the energy of the oblivious crowd. at least he could enjoy some things, like the candy—and the costumes, or lack thereof. he could easily get used to this part of the job. he even let a smirk creep onto his face when he saw a woman pass by in a devil costume that was more suggestive than sinister. it was easy to let his mind wander, just for a second. then, you appeared out of the crowd. dean’s gaze fixed on you, and his entire focus shifted. you wore a costume that was… well, maybe ‘costume’ wasn’t the right word. it was as much about what you weren’t wearing, as what you were. maybe the demon would just have to wait for a while, at least until he could charm that costume off you.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ dean winchester ␥ teenage neceophillian love ノ

dead and okay, maybe somewhat hot? not deans type, at least that’s what he told himself. but when it came to you… well, those thoughts made it difficult. watching you bloody with sharp fangs, he should’ve just killed you, like countless others. yet, he stood there, cleaning up your mess, wiping the crimson off your mouth. the rational part of him, buried under the weight of his desire, reminded him that he was supposed to be the hunter here. he was supposed to kill creatures like you—mercilessly, without hesitation. and yet, here he was, staring at you like he was under some spell, some inexplicable fascination that kept him tethered to this moment, unable—or unwilling—to break free.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ sam winchester ␥ 13 jack o’ lanterns ノ

sam knew, from the moment he saw halloween decorations creeping out of every corner, that there was no escape. you’d gone all-out this year, like a fiend possessed by the halloween spirit, turning your home into a spooky paradise. every inch of the house was draped in something ghostly or ghoulish. he had to admit, it was… impressive, in a way only you could pull off. now, here he was, seated with a carving knife in hand, elbows-deep in pumpkin guts, his own attempt looking a little… well, wonky.

𓉸 　 　 　╰ ﹒ tom hanniger ␥ from your windowsill ノ

it started off small, like most crushes do, tom thought it was normal. watching you from afar, taking in how you seemed so blissfully unaware of the green eyes following your every move. but small things have a habit of growing when you let them fester, and suddenly being too far away from you was not enough, now being able to see you this close—well, as close as he can from your windowsill of course. he was content, if only for a moment.

𓉸 　 　 　　 　╰ ﹒ stiles stilinski ␥ claws and fangs ノ

vampires and werewolves don’t mix. it’s practically written into the dna of supernatural lore, and stiles finds himself agreeing with every ancient text about it. because—god—you reek. normally, he wouldn’t tolerate your presence, not in a million years, but here he is. side by side with you, wedged into the garish, pulsing chaos of a halloween party that’s far more “over the top” than he would have ever chosen for himself. stiles finds the whole scene obnoxious, crowded with fake vampires and cheap costumes. maybe he hated the idea of vampires and werewolves mixing. maybe your scent was like nails on a chalkboard to him. but here he was, next to you, the one part of the party he was more willing to tolerate than he’d ever admit.

𓉸 　 　 　　 　　╰ ﹒ stiles stilinski ␥ the dead don’t rise ノ

it was a simple law of nature—one everyone knew and respected. the dead were supposed to stay dead, unmoving, silent, absent from the world of the living. but apparently, those assumptions didn’t apply to you. not that stiles was complaining, in fact he was utterly captivated by you. teaching you how to function again, it was amusing, how you would just stare and groan trying to mimic him.

𓉸 　 　 　　 　　　 　╰ ﹒ jennifer check ␥ pale skin , sharp fangs ノ

you were absolutely her favorite, jennifer had come to realize. once she noticed how similar you two were, sure, there was some differences between the two of you. one being well, she was a succubus and you were a vampire. and once the two of you got hungry? that was where the magic began. her gaze would fixate on the moment your fangs descended, gleaming dangerously as you closed in on your prey. you were intoxicating, an unholy vision with blood smeared against your lips, that crimson stain slipping down your chin like some twisted homage to the life you took. and fuck, did she want it to be her. she fantasized about the rough scrape of your fangs against her skin, the pinpoint sharpness pressing just beneath her pulse.

𓉸 　 　 　　 　　　 　╰ ﹒ billy and stu ␥ smile pretty f’me ノ

billy and stu were always up to something, a pair of wolves with an eye for danger—and an even sharper eye for you. it wasn't that you were naive; you were aware, acutely so. you knew what they wanted every time their eyes raked you, and well… you knew how to put on a show. that’s what made it fun. halloween night brought it to a head. the boys, true to their dramatic flair, arrived with a surprise. bringing vhs camera along to record them having fun with you, it was all harmless after all. you just happen to be their star for tonight, and all they wanted was for you to smile pretty for them.

[eepwtf]

(¬ ´ཀ` )¬ HALLOWEEN BOTS ₊ ZOMBIE INSPIRED

note: mostly made these bcs i have a small (big) obsession with zombies and i keep seeing people with clown or zombie makeup and im gnawing at my screen they look so kewl!! (might add more…depends if im not too lazy. ps,,, i brought my fav movie ever (killer klowns) it’s VHS but idc!! along with elvira

݁ᛪ༙DEAN WINCHESTER

⤿ warm bodies ⸝⸝ zombie!user

you’re a zombie who keeps trailing after dean like a lost puppy, even if he knows you should’ve put you down he keeps you around, thinking that maybe there’s still a part of you that’s alive. despite the odd and weird little gifts you give him.

݁ᛪ༙DEAN WINCHESTER

⤿ meet the creeper ⸝⸝ zombie!dean

after being bitten, dean clings to a fading memory of you. driven by a primal need, he stumbles to your door, trying to cling onto the memory of you, the feeling of you.

݁ᛪ༙DAMON SALVATORE

⤿ insatiable love for the dead

damon finds himself torn when faced with you. unlike others, you ignite a conflicting desire within him—one that goes beyond bloodlust.

݁ᛪ༙BILLY LOOMIS

⤿ lights , camera , murder baby!

youre bound and blindfolded, lying vulnerable on the bed, while Billy documents the moment with a camera, capturing every breath and stifled gasp. just his pretty little doll for him to play and taunt with.

݁ᛪ༙SAM WINCHESTER

⤿ dude , where’s my skin? ⸝⸝ zombie!sam

sam, finds himself drawn to a living person—you. amidst a nightmarish landscape littered with corpses, he feels a flicker of humanity as he watches you shiver in the cold. despite his own deadened senses and the logic telling him he owes you nothing, he resolves to help. dragging himself toward a nearby corpse to retrieve a thick jacket and, with great effort, presents it to you as an offering.

݁ᛪ༙SAM WINCHESTER

⤿ spookshow baby ⸝⸝ zombie!user

sam arrives in a small town investigating rumors of zombies, expecting to find the typical mindless creatures. instead, he finds a high-end bar filled with well-dressed patrons. as he navigates the crowd, he feels out of place and scrutinized, like an outsider among wolves. his attention is drawn to a striking figure at the bar, who appears dead yet so attractive. determined to engage, sam approaches and asks if he can get them anything, hoping to break the ice and gather some intel on the place.

݁ᛪ༙STILES STILINSKI

⤿ zombie curiosity ⸝⸝ zombie!user

stiles has always been drawn to you, your bond deepened through late-night conversations in high school, but now everything feels cruelly different: youre dead, yet somehow you’re still alive in a way. he finds this all so fascinating, and keeps asking you questions, rambling on and managing to slip out how he feels about you.

݁ᛪ༙JENNIFER CHECK

⤿ model for me

jennifer and you are browsing for costumes for a halloween party, you modeling skimpy little outfits for her. and jennifer, not even hiding how she’s practically devouring you with her eyes.

[eepwtf]

SYPHOPSIS — just thinking about blood sharing but make it vamp!dean🙂‍↕️

TYPE — spitball

WARNINGS — blood duh? , 18+ , reader is gender neutral! , vamp!dean

i was watching a vamp!dean edit ,,, and ofc i had an idea and i HAD to share

Thinking about Vamp!Dean with an insane amount of bloodlust, as a fledgling vampire, every heartbeat in his vicinity thunders in his ears, a siren call he can barely resist. His fangs ache with desperate need, urging him to sink them into the nearest warm body. The primal hunger claws at his mind, threatening to overtake any remaining shred of his humanity.

But then there’s you.

In you, Dean finds his equal—a kindred spirit just as ravenous as he is. Your presence soothes the frenzy in his veins, replacing chaos with dark harmony. Together, you hunt, and it's more than exhilarating—it's transcendent. He's mesmerized by the predatory glint in your eyes, a mirror to his own hunger. Your smirk, as you ensnare your prey with elegant precision, sends a thrill through him. In these moments, the hunt becomes an intricate dance, and you're the partner he never knew he craved. Your shared bloodlust doesn't just satisfy; it elevates, turning primal urges into a perverse art form. With you, Dean doesn't just survive his new existence—he revels in it.

But beneath the surface of their shared hunts, a new desire begins to gnaw at Dean's core. As he watches you feed on your fragile human prey, a strange longing takes root. It's not just bloodlust anymore—it's something deeper, more intimate.

He finds himself captivated by the way your fangs glint in the moonlight, imagining how they'd feel grazing his own throat. The thought sends shivers down his spine, a mix of fear and exhilaration. Dean yearns to experience what your victims feel in those final moments—the exquisite pain, the surrender, the draining of life force.

But it's more than that. He craves the connection, the ultimate intimacy of offering his blood to you. The idea of your fangs piercing his skin, of his essence flowing into you, becomes an obsession. He wants to be your sustenance, to feel the pull of his lifeblood leaving his body and entering yours.

And yet, the desire isn't one-sided. As much as he longs to be your willing prey, he's equally consumed by the urge to reciprocate. He imagines sinking his own fangs into your flesh, tasting the power of your immortal blood. The thought of this exchange—this deadly, sensual dance—consumes his every waking moment.

In the secluded sanctuary of a dimly lit room, curtains drawn against the prying eyes of the world, Dean looks at you behind dark lashes, green eyes filled with lust and hunger. The feeling of your sharp fangs brushing against his bare shoulder, has him trembling in anticipation. “Please,” he murmurs, pretty glassy, green eyes looking up at you with an expression of utter devotion, completely surrendering himself to the moment. A soft, needy whine escaped his pouty pink lips, as your lips ghost over his collarbone, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in their wake. Each touch is electric, sending jolts of sensation through Dean's body. “Just do it,” he almost whines out pathetically.

Your lips traced a path down the smooth expanse of Dean's neck, leaving a trail of warmth and lingering tingling sensations. “Patience,” you tutted playfully, with a sly smirk, at the juncture where his pulse was most intense, you paused, reveling in the moment. Then, with a measured bite, you sank your fangs deep into his soft flesh, triggering a guttural moan of pure ecstasy to spill from his throat, echoing around the room.

Dean's body convulsed under you, his hands grasping at your shoulders as he yielded to the overwhelming sensation of your fangs breaking through his flesh. The surge of blood into your mouth only amplified his ecstasy, and he arched his back, his head tossing back in an unquenchable frenzy of pleasure. Your tongue, wanton and explorative, swirled around the punctures, greedily ingesting the tantalizing, warm blood that gushed forth, filling your mouth.

His body writhed, arching his back and tossing his head back in uncontainable rapture, his Adam's apple bobbing with every panted gasp. You observed with a hint of perverse satisfaction as the evidence of your work stood out starkly against the pale canvas of Dean's neck. Within mere seconds he crashed his lips on yours, savoring the bittersweet taste of his own blood mingling with the softness of your lips. Soft, urgent moans escaped him as his tongue sought access, tracing the contour of your bottom lip. Almost as if he was determined to capture every last drop of his essence, he then shifted, his lips venturing towards the sensitive expanse of your shoulder.

His lips moved with a frenzied urgency, leaving behind a trail of messy and frantic kisses across the expanse of your shoulder, drifting ever closer to the tender flesh of your neck. His breathing grew more pronounced, imbued with heightened sensation as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. A potent desire gripped his fangs, yearning to penetrate the throbbing artery at your pulse point.

Sensing the imminent action to come, anticipating his intentions, you obligingly tilted your neck to the side, allowing him unfettered access to the tender flesh. Your own lips found their own path, migrating towards the site of his previous bite, already witnessing its regenerative healing. Even as the signs of your mark rapidly faded, your lips attacked it with fervor, craving to leave their imprint once more.

As your lips pressed fervently against his already healing wound, Dean could no longer contain the primal need surging through him. He felt the sharp points of his fangs growing longer and sharper, before he yielded to the craving and sank them into the supple, tender flesh of your neck. With a sense of urgency, he began to feed, his mouth filling with the sweet, intoxicating flow of your sweet, crimson blood filled his mouth, the sanguine liquid swiftly pooling inside him. He savored the moment, his body writhing at the intimacy of the exchange.

Feeling the trembles of desire coursting through your body only heightened Dean's courage, his tongue gently swirling around the bite mark, lapping at the warm, sweet blood that cascaded from the wound. His eyes, glazed with pleasure, met your own, a satisfied grin playing across his face. "You’re absolutely delicious," he murmured, his tongue gliding across his lips in a slow, seductive motion, savoring the taste of your essence.

𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐖𝐓𝐅 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋.