#Ruby vee

[kp-does-suff]

Here's some eeveelution stuff because why not

I've been drawing some evolutions for a while now and decided to share them I hope you like my characters!

[You're going to see that I love incorporating the shiny designs in these characters]

So this is Copper she was originally going to be a little one-off drawing, I was just like "I should draw an Eevee from memory today" and that's how she came to be. She's an energetic kid and wants to be a good battler just like her mom.

[also all of the characters don't have stats or natures or anything like that yet at least if I do come up with something like that I might put it in a separate post. I'd also like to hear your opinions because I'm not very knowledgeable on that stuff]

This is Copper's mom Stella! She's a bit hard on Copper but she means well. She's actually a descendant of the Espeon in red's team. She's stoic and serious the majority of the time.

This is Wave, Copper's dad! He's a more go with the flow type of guy he's extremely chill Copper actually gets most of her traits from him even though she lives with her mom the most. (they're not divorced or anything they just have different trainers) he's kinda like bandit from bluey.

This is Spark. Copper's uncle, Wave's brother. He's the oldest out of the three so that means that he worries and panics the most. He doesn't have any animosity or resentment to his siblings he just grew up with the mentality that he always had to be the "protector, the leader, the one in charge"

This is Ruby. Copper's aunt She's the second oldest and actually decided to be in the show biz, despite what happened to her parents. She was actually the first of the three siblings to get a trainer and it's kinda strained her relationship with her siblings. She rarely talks to them anymore, they still care about each other of course but it was such a weird feeling. Despite the horrible thing that happened to their parents why would she want to pursue that career?

[also if you're wondering what happened to their parents I think I might make that a separate post so out for that if you're interested!]

And so that concludes my showcase of my Pokemon OCs! They were really fun to work on and I can't wait to make more stuff for them in the future.

Are there any questions, comments, concerns, anything you think needs to be improved upon? I'm open to constructive criticism for my story (not my art tho but that's besides the point) also I wanna thank @lockandkeyhyena (sorry for the tag) for inspiring me to do this I love their characters and stories I'm glad he let me ramble in his inbox about them lol.

[gakriele-lvs-blog]

I'm definitely missing a lot of characters but for now, this should suffice (What a coincide so many have gone through some form or trauma, the majority of the identity kind!)

Rose (Black and red furry): Homunculus shapeshifting mute doppelganger with an identity crisis [latchkey kingdom]

Noriel (Curly hair with feathers and scar): Homeless half-angel-demon, acts like a cat, also existential crisis [Wings: By Noa Start]

Tamberlane (Human girl at the bottom): Only human in the continent with a little bit of existential crisis [Tamberlane]

Ruby (Black and White person in the middle): A Squid person living among humans, clumsy but with a good heart, has a bit of an identity crisis [Ruby Gilman] Kinda a shame I only like the storyboards and fan content.

Luz Noceda (Crying girl with black hair): Creative, passionate, socially clumsy, and bullied high school girl who just wanted to belong somewhere [The Owl House]

Hilda (light blue hair and skin) a young adventurous kid who gets into maybe a little too many problems, saw herself die once, and also turned into an abominable troll once. [Hilda Netflix]

Vee the basilisk (Girl with white spots and blue sweater): Artifically born shapeshifting demon who just wanted a safe place to live [The Owl House]

Belle the Tinkered (Yes, the Sonic character): android whose creator/father died and went through a phase of existential crisis and isolation [Sonic IDW Comics]

Hunter the Grimwalker (Blonde boy with red eyes): Artificially born half-witch-human indoctrinated to be a child soldier, a lot of identity and existential crisis [The Owl House]

Belfy (Bat on the top): Clumpy single mother doing her best, prone to a lot of self-blame;-; [Tamberlane]

I have like a dozen more characters to share but for now, these are my favorites, nobody is above anyone... except you Vee, you are my favorite

[rubyroutledge29]

RUBYYYYYYYYY hru?

HIIII I’m alive. Looking for JJ, y’know the usual.

How are you ml?

[dollyyun]

the new teasers have me on the edge of my seat 😭 MAFIA JAYY

mafia husband jay is the standard actually😌 alsooo hope you'll love mafia heejakewon too🫶🏻

[rubywolf0201]

Merrin is just so extra and I’m here for it! 😆🤣

[kraekat29]

Forever- send me an AU idea and I’ll write it!!

runaway criminal juby au!! robbing a bank and just making out halfway through the heist

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The bank was quiet, typical for a Tuesday night in Kildare. One or two tellers doing their rounds for the night.

JJ sauntered in with Ruby beside him, her hand clutching onto his bicep- a normal couple here to make a deposit.

The two shared a look, JJ nodding once as Ruby discretely passed him the gun from her purse, clutching onto the roll of duct tape as well.

He went up to the counter as she slid on a pair of gloves, wandering over to the security pad and disabling the cameras while both tellers were distracted.

JJ aimed the gun, getting the money in the bag while Ruby kept watch, occasionally looking over at him and biting on her bottom lip.

He came over to her, grinning like a kid in a candy store as he held up the bag filled with money.

She ran her hands down his arms, gazing up at him with an awestruck smile, putting his gun back in her purse.

She leaned up on her tip toes and connected their lips in a heated kiss as he backed them up, her back hitting against the wall as he lifted her up into his arms.

They pulled away after a few moments, panting as the alarms blared, the couple sharing a look before taking off running.

Heist accomplished.

[pjunseo]

           ¿coincidencia, destino?  junseo no lo sabía,  pero no iba a desaprovechar la situación de encontrarse a vee en aquella tienda departamental.  ‘  tang  ’  saludo informal,  un poco de seriedad para dar a entender que no venía en son de paz.  ‘  creí que habías huido de parís  ’  (  @veecys​  )

[thefriendlyneighborhoodidiot]

The Crystal Toons

(Steven Universe x Dandy's World crossover art)

Spent most of my day drawing these guys separately, but I'm proud

Also Bonus of Vee and Shelly as Sapphire and Ruby

[activesplooger]

ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ | ᴠᴏx x ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Notes: (MDNI) don't be afraid to give me feedback on this one! (grammar, criticism, wtvr u notice!). idk wtf im doing but it took a long time and like 200 redo's. enjoy!!!

Summary: Years later. The aftermath of the 'incident'. CW: angst, mistreatment of workers, abuse of power, vox being an ass, fluff if u squint, confrontation, lot of exposition sorry lol, Word Count: 2,217 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Masterpost!

Years later... The Vee's empire grew exponentially and are now the three top overlords in hell. As they grew, they upgraded and relocated to a new gaudy building called the "Vee Tower" which's big enough for all 3 members to reside and do their business. Vox now had a similar, but still new, upgrade to his head. His flat-screen face glows blue and has red almond-shaped eyes. The left eyelid of his is black, like his eyebrows, while his right eyelid is a bright teal, like his teeth. He wears a navy blue and teal striped blazer with matching navy slacks. A grand ruby bowtie tied around his neck, just above the red and black dress shirt he now wore. And to top it all off, he wore a top hat and a charismatic smile.

You still worked for Vox, however, your job description changed over the next few years. You went from being introduced as “This is Y/N, my friend and assistant!” to “This is an employee of mine, she won’t be a bother.”. It was agitating that he started to distance himself from you. I mean, you save his fucking life and let him weep in your arms like a child and this is the thanks you get?!

Vox had also acquired a reputation being a friendly, charismatic, entrepreneur. What a load of bullshit. His media persona was all a facade, a scam to get people to buy his products and/or work for him. You feel bad for the newer employees who deal with Vox's wrath. At least for you, you could cling to the old version of him and have some sort of positive outlook on your boss. The new staff members didn't have any outlook on their boss besides terror and apprehension. They would simply get charmed into a job and then see how Vox's personality does a fucking 180, turning into a complete jackass as soon as their soul was his. Your boss is cold to all his employees, abusing his power over them just for a power trip, a reminder of where they stand in this company. If an employee made one mistake, they'd immediately called to Vox's office for the shakedown of their life. Fucking terrifying.

The whole company shifted into a mess of moral corruption. All of VoxTech’s advertisements were schemes to hypnotize you into craving their products. Manipulation is a key tactic at VoxTech. If people watch any of the programs controlled by the company, they’ll likely hear the phrase ‘Trust us’ more often than not. And in turn, If they hear it enough, they’ll start to believe it. That’s what lured people in, making VoxTech and trust synonymous with each other until ultimately, they buy their shit. Pretty subtle tactic compared to the others. Other ways included Vox straight-up hypnotizing people with his powers. Yet another astounding example of the great morals exemplified by your boss!

Some part of you wished you never helped him that day... you hated yourself for thinking that. In spite of how shitty he is, you missed him. Not the fake media version, or the shitty boss version, the old him. The real Vox. You'd find yourself reminiscing on the late work nights you had with him. He'd order takeout, and you'd help him with his work for hours on end until you'd fall asleep at your desk from fatigue. You never failed to wake up with a crick in your neck from the cramped position, but you always had a familiar coat swaddled around your shoulders. It was the little moments with him that meant a lot. Back when he wasn't so hostile. It was starting to get on your nerves. Seeing your boss- no- seeing your old friend become a jaded prick all because of some excessively red deer fucker?! You knew Alastor hurt him, and yeah, it's understandable to be a little messed up after it... But didn't he really have to take it out on everyone else?! 'Why couldn't he just be honest and talk about what happened?! Why the fuck did he forbid you from speaking about it?!'. These questions rang in your head for years. But you could never ask him... Could you? You definitely weren’t a pushover, but you also weren’t a dumbass. As much as you wish it weren’t true, Vox had the upper hand and a mean temper. However, at this point, you were at the end of your rope. You needed answers, just... maybe not now. Soon. Maybe? Fuck! No matter how much you refused to admit it, he terrified you. You knew he could end you in an instant, he made that very clear when he nearly choked you to death. By now the bruises faded, obviously, but the emotional scars were very much there... You don't forget nor forgive what Vox did to you. So much was left unsaid that day and remains unsaid, you still can't really process it all. You tried to make excuses for what happened, something to console you and give you some sort of reason for everything. The blame always fell on Alastor, which, you felt was true to at least some degree. Your theories aren't enough to soothe your troubled thoughts. It still nagged at you, it always did. If there was some way for you to obliviate this, you would done it have a long time ago.

And the cherry on top of it all is the fact that you have to see him every day and pretend like nothing ever happened. Your workplace serves as a constant reminder of what happened, you couldn't possibly get yourself to stop thinking about it. Every fiber of your being just wanted you to call him out and pry into every detail of what happened with Alastor- But you held back... Part of you felt he would hurt you... again... As much as you want answers, being hurt and possibly killed over it definitely isn't worth it.

--

Your heels clicked on the black flooring as you walked to Vox's office. Vox had previously emailed you to bring him some paperwork for some new employees who were recently hired. You carried the heavy stack of documents in your hands, your arms begging for relief. Couldn’t these have been digital like everything else? You could’ve sworn he did this just to make things harder for you. Prick. The path to his desk was long and narrow, with sharks swimming around beside it. A large circular platform that held Vox’s desk and various monitors accompanied by heaps of cords and cables ended the path. From a distance, you can see your boss berating another employee. The worker cowered on the ground beside the desk as Vox loomed over him, a scowl etched across his face. You increase your pace to his desk in an attempt to shorten the eyesore in front of you. "Let me get this straight," The TV demon inches closer "You want to waste M҉Y̴ time M҉Ɏ money, MɎ-". "I-I just want some time off, Mr. Vox," the trembling staff member interrupts "I-It's my wife and I's anniversary I-I just need a couple hours-". A teal blue collar takes shape around the worker's neck, you couldn't believe the sight before you. Rage and pent-up strain filled your core, it killed you to see him doing this to someone else. Right in front of you no less. Your breathing becomes shallow, the memory of Vox choking you haunting your brain as you see another employee going through what you did. Should you stop it? Would that only make things worse? Fuck- 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout'. That phrase repeats in your head like a mantra, you need to get the fuck out of there. You couldn't stand being there any longer.

Large teal claws grasp at the end of the leash attached to the collar, pulling the chain closer as Vox speaks. "ɎØ҉U҉ ŁƗSŦɆN ĦɆɌɆ ɎØ҉U҉ F҉U҉ȻꝀƗNǤ-". The slam of papers cuts off Vox, he whips his head to the sound only to find you walking out of the office in a huff. Tears welled up in your eyes. 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout'. Pushing the doors open you run out, tears falling down your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath. You turn the corner and slump against the nearest wall, burying your head in your knees and unsteady sobbing.

After you left, Vox just stares at the door you stormed through. The chain vanishes from his grip, and his hands fall to his side as longing and regret cross his features. Your boss's mind was so preoccupied with you leaving that he didn't notice the employee scurrying out the door. Once he realized that he let the worker off the hook, he didn't call him back. No. He let him go. Vox had bigger things to deal with. You.

Whilst you lay there, slumped against the wall, you feel something drape over your shoulders. But, when you lift your head, you don't see anyone, only a blue zap darting up to a security camera. You furrow your eyebrows and turn your head to see what was draped over your back. Your eyes are met with a navy blue and teal striped blazer comfortably enveloping your shoulders. "...Vox?" --

For a few hours, you clutched onto the jacket as you sobbed, but, eventually, you had to suck it up and work. And return the jacket. Fuck. That's gonna be awkward... 'I can't just keep it, can I?' you thought as you grabbed the jacket and made your way to his office, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable conversation ahead.

You quietly make your way over to Vox's desk, his eyes fixed on the monitors in front of him, not noticing you. "Sir?". "Gah!" Vox springs up out of his chair and nearly falls out of it, "Y/N! What the fuck?!". "Sorry sorry!" you apologize, "I didn't mean to startle you, Sir.". An awkward grin spreads across your face as you hold out the jacket to him "I came to return-" the jacket gets snatched out of your hands "-this". Vox slides the jacket over his black and red dress shirt, "Finally!" he exclaims. You stand there awkwardly after he ripped the blazer out of your hands while Vox just got back to work on his computer. "Can I help you?" Vox questioned with a condescending look on his face. "Hm? Oh! No no, I just wanted to thank you, so- Thank you." A soft smile crossed your features, hoping that this would spark a sincere discussion. Rolling his eyes, he responded with an annoyed tone, "Well, don't. Just accept the gesture and move on, we don't. need. to talk about it."

A scoff escapes your lips, "Typical." you mutter.

“What was that?” Vox eyes bored into yours as he got up to fully face you, his tall stature towering over you.

Normally, you’d back down from a situation like this. You knew that Vox could overpower you in an instant. But something in you just snapped, you couldn't take it any longer. Any fears or doubts you had suddenly disappeared. You just can't take it any longer.

“You heard me” you retort, standing up as straight as possible to try and match his height. Red vexed eyes narrowed at you, staring deeply into your eyes, "If you had any brain in that head of yours you'd back off, Y/N." he barked. The skin over your knuckles pulls taught as you balled your hands into fists, "If you had any brain in that flat head of yours you'd understand why I'm fed up with your shit!" you lashed out, "I swear if I wasn't soul-bound I'd leave your TV ass in an instant!" Vox's crimson eyes widened, he seemed genuinely surprised at your exposure of him, "Excuse me? I've given you ɆVɆɌɎŦĦƗNǤ! You'd be blundering around Hell if I hadn't hired you!" Your eyes practically roll out of your head. "You haven't given me anything besides a daily fucking migraine!" "I will not take this, I'm your superior, Y/N!" your boss blustered, "Or did you forget? Perhaps I should give you a reminder-". The all too familiar teal blue leash starts to materialize in his hands causing a knee-jerk reaction out of you. Your hands instinctively grab the half-embodied chain and yank it to the side.

SNAP!

The two of you stand there, watching in disbelief as the teal links slowly disappear. You're not sure how you managed to stop the soul-leash from fully forming, but you did. Finally prying your eyes off the now absent chain, you look up at Vox. He was still looking down like a deer in the headlights, looking vulnerable and powerless. The sight of him reminds you of the way he looked when he desperately clung to you after his falling out with Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this since then. For the first time in years, he wasn't in control of something. The overlord's voice faltered as he mumbled, "How did-". "I don't know," you responded abruptly. ... Red gleaming eyes lifted to meet yours, "You want to talk? Fine. You've convinced me," he slumps back into his chair, his elbow popping up his head as he looked at you with an exasperated look, "Talk."

--

to be continued! hope u liked this chapterr its the longest of the two. this one took me long as fuck sorry lol i havent had a lot of free time. lmk if u want to be apart of the tag list :) also leave me some feedback in the replies or the ask me anything tab iyw!

COMFORT FROM THE ANGST COMING SOON!

-- TAG LIST:

@lovelyemily, @preppyfellaa

[reashot]

Jaune the Eevee Trainer.

Jaune: Wow. I can't believe I got Eevee as my starter Pokemon.

Eevee: Vee~ ❤️

Jaune: Sure can't wait to get you to evolve. But I wonder which one to pick...

Then suddenly as if on cue. Four girls start appearing from behind him like they were waiting for this very moment.

Yang: Hey there young man. If you're interested in evolving your Eevee. Might I suggest Flareon. 🔥

Blake: Not so fast. Only basic bitch picked Flareon.

Yang: Hey!

Blake: Sure you can pick Flareon. But don't you want something much cooler and stronger like Umbreon? 🌙

Weiss: Hah! Cool? Nothing is more cooler and more elegant than my Glaceon. ❄️

Ruby: L-leafeon is cool too. 🌿

*showing of her leafeon in her hand*

Jaune please, if you pick Leafeon (me) I swear I will be forever grateful and I will be your best friend.

*everyone is staring and waiting for Jaune's decision*

Jaune: Uh... I.

Bleiss: Wait a minute. I never got a chance to give my suggestion.

Jaune: Oh, ok Bleiss what type of evolution should I pick for Eevee?

Bleiss smiled ear to ear waiting for Jaune to say that word.

Bleiss: Hey Jaune did you know that in terms of male human and female Pokémon breeding, Vaporeon is the most compatible Pokémon....

Guhh!

*jaune chokes Bleiss*

W-worth it...

[cuubism]

for @magnusbae

--

“Hob Gadling,” Dream says, and there’s a laugh deep in it, hidden in his eyes. “Am I to understand you’ve been engaging in petty theft?”

“I used to rob people on the road, and this surprises you?” says Hob, leaning against his kitchen counter. Then holds up a hand before Dream can respond. “Now, to be clear, my highwayman days are behind me. I’ve evolved. I’ve no interest in hurting people over riches. Also, would be bloody difficult to commit highway robbery nowadays.”

“I see you’ve thought it through,” says Dream from where he’s still lingering in the kitchen doorway. He clearly finds all of this highly amusing.

“I have, and rest assured, this theft was by no means petty. I’m pretty sure this is considered grand larceny.”

“Ah. I see it is no fun for you if decades of prison time are not on the line,” says Dream.

Hob winks at him. “Would you really let me go to prison for decades?”

Dream raises a haughty eyebrow. “I am your get-out-of-jail-free card?”

“Not getting caught is my get-out-of-jail-free card. You think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think I would do this for a lark without a plan?”

“Speaking frankly?” says Dream. “Yes.”

Hob laughs. “Alright, caught. But in my defense! It was for an important reason.”

Dream finally steps properly into the kitchen. “And what reason is that? I know you have no need for riches.”

“Wasn’t about need. Was only about charm. And getting in your good graces. And being the most irresistible and rakish boyfriend I can. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at me at that first, portentous meeting.”

He lets Dream step in, closer and closer, like a predator with its prey. Doesn’t move. “You wish to give me the scrappy bandit I apparently so desired back then?”

“No apparently about it,” says Hob, and oh, it’s fun to be bold with Dream, now that he feels reasonably sure of not scaring him off. “But it’s okay, because I was even more weak for the prissy lord that you were. You know how much you could have gotten me to do if only you’d asked?”

Dream is standing right before him now, crowding him against the counter. His eyes gleam in the dark. “Does that include grand larceny?”

Hob laughs and lays his hands on his sides, feeling the taught realness of him, so much more dangerous than he’d thought of the lord he’d met in that tavern, and so much more glorious for it. “And more.”

He fishes the ruby from his pocket, letting it dangle on its long chain and catch the kitchen lights. He dips his head low as he holds it out to Dream. “A token of my affection. For my lord.”

Dream lets the gem fall into his palm, examining the fine cut of it. It doesn’t have the darkness, the strange angles of his now-broken dreamstone, but it’s still a gorgeous gem. Deep wine red, bottomless depths within the facets. Like Dream himself.

“A token?” He echoes, lips tugging up in a smile. “A courtly gift for one you have no need to court?”

“A small gift for one I am endlessly devoted to,” Hob says, and Dream’s eyes meet his again. There’s a smile in them, now, a real one. The gem is worth a bloody fortune, but Dream cares not for the monetary value of things. This is about the symbol, the game, the effort of it, and it seems it’s landed.

He does like pretty things, too. Hob knows it well.

“Put it on me, then,” Dream says.

He ducks his head for Hob to clasp the chain around the back of his neck. Hob kisses his forehead when he’s done.

The ruby sits against his breastbone, shining against the bare skin at the center of the deep vee in his shirt.

Hob squints. He could have sworn Dream was wearing something with more coverage when he arrived. “Did you… change your shirt?”

Dream smirks. “Perhaps. Such art requires its proper canvas.”

“Cheeky. You’re right, though.” Hob admires it on him, and sighs. So worth it.

Dream kisses his cheek, like they really are courting and he’s shyly accepting the gift. Hob takes hold of his face and pulls him into a proper one, one that’ll leave his lips as red as the gem. God, he better be able to convince Dream into wearing that and nothing else in bed. That sounds like a good way to die, if he ever were to choose one.

“How’d you find out about this, anyway?” he asks, letting his hands wander to Dream’s hair to keep him close.

“Matthew. He admitted that he helped you.” He doesn’t sound too upset about it, fortunately, for Matthew’s sake.

Hob sighs. “I tried to keep his involvement quiet. Blabbermouth.”

“He had fun, apparently,” says Dream wryly.

“Hope you won’t punish him too much.”

Dream smirks. “Just a little.”

“Going to punish me, then?” Hob says. It's meant to be challenging but he can’t keep the grin off his face.

Dream pushes him against the counter, hands pressed tight to his hips. “Hmm.” His voice rumbles through Hob’s body. His eyes are alight with fondness and danger both, and a shiver runs up Hob’s spine. “Just a little.”

[rubyroutledge29]

THE SHIP HAS SAILED WITHOUT JB

ive stolen sarah...unofficially

Oh..!🤠 this is my brother rn:

[dollyyun]

AAA RUBYY !! i know we don’t interact much as moots but i just finished reading dkp and can i just say, THAT WAS THE BEST SHIT EVER.

i can’t wait for part 7, seriously. but obviously no rush, health comes first :) i hope you’re doing well hun ! <3

VEE!!! awww it’s okay but we should defo interact more🫶🏻

omg it must’ve been time consuming for you to read the series and thank you sm🥹🤍

thank you as well for the reminder! i’m doing okay-ish and i hope you’re doing well too! ilysm💟

[rubywolf0201]

If I can’t get Ellen Joe, then I’ll be saving up for Miyabi then. She seems pretty cool!

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” - Dean x Reader

Rating Explicit

Dean x Reader

Tags: Christmas (Holiday) Smut, Red Ribbons, Candy Canes, Peppermint Sensations, Sleigh Bells, Sexy Santa References, Dean is Tied Up, Edging, Oral Sex, 69, Vaginal Sex, Reader is a Naughty Little Vixen, Dean deserves a proper (sexy) Christmas.

Word Count: 2700

Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.

Notes: This smutty little fic is a holiday gift for @jessjad for the 2023 SPNFanFicPond Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy the reader’s sexy times with Dean.

Big thanks to @sam-is-my-safeword and runawaydr3amer (AO3) for reading the first draft and helping with a great many awesome smut ideas. Additional thanks to runawaydr3amer, who also beta’d this fic and packaged it up nice and shiny. 

Merry holidays!

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo, and this part will fill my "Edging" square.

Resources:

Collage created in Canva

Pic found on Google (Fanpop)

Song Reference: Santa Baby by Joan Javits and Philip Springer (listen/watch this version sung by Eartha Kitt)

Dean sinks those pearly whites into the flesh of his bottom lip. His top lip pulls up and back into a painful sneer. The usual rosy, pillowy fullness of that mouth is instead taut, whitening under the capture. You laser focus onto the pointy canine denting into the mouth you have debated sitting on since you began this teasing challenge.

jingle

You finish fashioning a sweet little bow with the ribbon. It’s ruby red and velvety soft.

“Well, I think that’s about the prettiest package I ever did wrap.”

jingle

“What do you think, Mr. Claus?” you ask, your voice as innocent and demure as you can manage.

Dean opens his mouth and expels a slow gasp. jingle “Fuck, sweetheart. You aren’t playin’ fair.”

“That’s the whole point.”

You rise from the edge of the bed and take in the entire scene. It’s magnificent. 

He’s magnificent.

Dean is lying atop the forest green comforter of your bed. Naked. Well, not totally naked. A red ribbon - adorned with one single sleigh bell - binds his wrists together and anchors him to the headboard. His arms, jutting out and bent to create a diamond-shaped frame around his face, give you a prime ticket to the gun show. Biceps flex and tendons raise under the skin as he tries to remain as motionless as possible.

jingle

You aren’t a complete heathen. He’s got a fluffy pillow, the same deep green color as the comforter, to rest his head atop. Dean is anything but sleepy. He’s wound up. He stares back at you, the green of his irises electric and flaming with intensity.

You anticipate how sublime it will feel to strum the cords of his neck. Tickle your fingertips down that chest. You imagine Dean ring-a-ding-dinging and cursing himself if you take the time to trace the outline of his tattoo. Circle those perky nipples. Dip into his belly button and follow his treasure trail of baby-fine hair.

You marvel again at the other ribbon that you tied. You’d purchased a couple yards of red velvet at the craft store weeks ago with this in mind. With him in mind. You were ecstatic it had been enough to criss-cross around the crease below that fine ass. It wraps over a slight vee along his waist. The makeshift holiday jockstrap has Dean’s beautiful, now fully erect, cock sporting a bow.

Dean sighs. “Are you done decking my balls?” jingle

You giggle and fiddle with the belt of your robe. It’s red as well, but made of silk. “As we discussed, the end result of all of this is all up to you. Santa.” You flip a switch to turn off the ceiling light. The sconces stay on above the headboard. Two halos figure eight over Dean’s beautiful body, awash in a warm amber glow.

He’s a full print ad of holiday cheer and sinful debauchery.

“You’re being very naughty, (jingle) Mrs. Claus.” Dean licks his top lip—your core clenches at the deep timbre of his scolding. 

You’ve been wet since you both finished Christmas dinner. Since you told him you had one more gift for him waiting upstairs. Since you left him in the bedroom with orders to strip while you changed in the bathroom. Since you pulled out the ribbons. Since you explained that if he was good and could keep his jingling down to a minimum through what you had planned, you’d fuck him into the New Year.

You inhale and shrug, then begrudgingly turn your back to the sight. It takes a few taps on your phone for you to get to the song. You stifle another giggle at the little jingles Dean can’t help as he waits. 

Once you tap the play button, the festive and recognizable melody begins. A barbershop quartet bah-bums a bit before the sultry and smooth vocals of Eartha Kitt take the lead.

You look back over your shoulder at Dean and whisper along with Eartha.

You peel the silky robe off one shoulder then the other. Dean groans when the layer slips down to the floor. jingle

“Shit.” He moans and you grin in satisfaction at the hoped for reaction.

You turn back to face him, adding a dramatic hair flip. You're wearing a sexy little Mrs. Claus outfit. It’s a red velvet dress with a scandalously high skirt and a low-cut halter. White fur lines both the top and bottom. It’s all cinched nice and tight around your waist with a black belt and a gold buckle.

You bend at the knees and lean forward, shoulders folding in and hands resting on your thighs. It gives Dean the perfect vantage to ogle your cleavage. You purr along with the next line and modify the lyrics a smidge.

“Man, I must have been a really good boy this year.” Dean stares in awe, not even caring how much he’s jingling with his squirms atop the bed.

You let it slide for the time being, thrilled at the kid in a candy store grin plastered on his face and the way the bow sways with every twitch of his cock.  

Dean tilts his head to the side. His gaze begins at your red-glitter heels and canvases every inch of skin from ankles to thighs. He pauses, stopping to stare at the hint of flesh under the skirt hem. jin-jingle jingle jin-jingle He pants out, “Mrs. Claus forgot her panties, huh?”

You lift a finger and wiggle it back and forth in the air. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember, really good boys stay still if they want their present.”

The bell jangles no matter how carefully he attempts to reposition himself. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles and you laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be good,” he whispers soft and sweet.

The heels tap across the hardwood as you walk over to settle beside Dean. You adjust your skirt to let the scant amount of fabric fan over your naughty bits. Being so close to him makes you forget the lyrics to sing along with Eartha.

You rest a hand on his chest. Through clenched teeth, Dean inhales at the touch, the rest of him frozen in place. The bell is silent. Your other hand grabs one of the candy canes you had left on the bedside table. For reasons.

Watching him fight every urge he has to reach out and touch you is fascinating. And the power you have over him gives you a head rush. You continue the tease, twirling the candy between your fingers, then laving the cane’s hook with your mouth and tongue. Dean garners some pity from you as he whines, brows downturned, eyes attentive to your every swirl and suck. You swing the cane close to his mouth. “Wanna taste?”

He swallows. “Wanna taste you,” he states, the hint of hope escaping around the edges of a soft moan.

The thrill of his need quickens your pulse. No other man has loved and adored you as thoroughly and exuberantly as Dean Winchester. You nod. “You will. But, first,” you rub the wet-slick candy cane over his bottom lip, “show me what that mouth wants to do.”

“You know what this mouth can do,” he reminds with a little sass, letting the candy cane tap against his bottom teeth. 

But soon enough, he indulges you. He slips the hook between his lips. His tongue slides out under the curve of peppermint, lapping at the sticky sweet. Again and again. Your breath hitches into your open mouth as you watch, enthralled at the ministrations of that thick and powerful muscle. He sucks the confection in a little farther, pursing his lips. The sounds he’s making, enjoying the treat, are downright pornographic and send any extraneous bell ringing to the back of your hearing queue. The red food coloring coats them like lip gloss by the time you break from the spell of his show. You guess it’s been minutes since Eartha finished her rendition of ‘Santa, Baby.’ The rest of the playlist you created has soft and dreamy instrumentals.

“My turn,” you cajole. You tug on the cane. He relinquishes, but not without some resistance. A little pop escapes his mouth once the hook is freed. You marvel at the progress he made. The hook end is substantially shorter and thinner than when he began.

He sniffs and tilts his chin up in pride. jingle “Your turn with that, or my turn with you?”

The cane slips back into your mouth, your fingers sticky from all the handling. You stand, kick off your heels, and climb back onto the bed on your knees. You grin as you suck on the candy.

His eyes soften. “Be careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke. Well, at least not on that.” He smirks.

He’s right. Safety first. You toss the candy onto the bedside table.

“You are so (jingle) fucking hot in that (jingle) outfit.” He grins and waggles eyebrows in anticipation. “Gonna let me down your chimney, Mrs. Claus?” jingle jingle jingle

The actions in the next few seconds are a blur. You wonder if Dean has some sort of Jedi mind control ability. Because even though you are supposed to be the one making decisions this evening, his seductively god-awful puns find you sitting on his face, reverse cowgirl. 

“You might get the golden ticket to all my secret places if you’re lucky.” Your fingers tip-toe down his chest like a grinch about to steal someone else’s presents. 

jingle jingle jingle

“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean murmurs under your skirt. Hot breath bathes your inner thighs and other areas you hope will soon be explored.

Your hands rest in the little divots created by his pelvic bones while you take his body in and plan your method of attack. You pull on the ribbon and release his cock of the bow. Then, you’re deep throating him like he’s your last meal.

Not one to be outdone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Dean’s entire face gets in on the feast as well. Nerves respond to the tingling sensation of the residual peppermint on Dean’s lips and tongue. You shiver at the gloriously heightened sensitivity when he pulls back to blow on your pussy. “This is so much better than milk and cookies.” He moans and groans and jingles all the way. 

As much as you’re loving the taste of his precome, the velvet texture against your tongue, and the way the tip triggers a tiny gag reflex at the base of your throat, it’s time to remind him of the consequences of all that noise he’s making. You release the hard length from your mouth and try to concentrate on your own breathing during the absolute virtuoso way he’s eating you out. As much as you’d love his fingers to get in on the action, you know you’d have no control over the situation. You sigh in relief that he’s trying to adhere to some parts of the game. The pitiful, half-hearted ribbon shackling of his hands to the headboard is no match for Dean Winchester.

You steady yourself on wobbly knees and one shaky elbow. A firm grip around the base of his cock makes Dean gasp. He stills after that. In your mind’s eye, you picture the beauty of that mouth and how his luscious pink lips were slick with peppermint. You imagine how slick they are with you now. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and you feel him settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. Can you blame me, though? Here I am, under your sweet little skirt, in the dark (jingle)... shit, sorry. But, you can’t drop a five-course meal in front of a starving (jingle) man and not expect him to wanna little taste.”

You squeeze his cock. “That’s part of the challenge.”

“I’m always up for a challenge. You always make me feel so good.”

You groan at the praise he bestows. Without releasing your hold, you shimmy off his chest. Channeling the prim and delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Claus, you crawl along the comforter and settle between nutcracker bow legs. With knees tucked under you and sat atop bare feet you accept him in your mouth again and get to work. 

You take in the sight of Dean inventorying your every action. He’s gripping the top of the headboard with both hands to steady his upper body. You clock that the little stinker has also managed to palm the sleigh ball in an effort to silence or, at the very least, muffle it. You consider that move cheating. But he feels so sublime that you can’t bear to part with him to voice your irritation. He’s also whispering the sweetest filth to you while he watches.

“Damn. Yeah. Those lips of yours feel so good around my cock. You take it so good, baby. Wish I could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, but I’d definitely jingle-jangle way too much.” A tongue swipe over his top lip accentuates the glossy look of his ruby-tinted mouth in the warm light. “You really are too good to me. You give the best Christmas presents.” He stiffens further with each downstroke. “Aw, yeah. Suck it.” Your rhythm increases. “So pretty. Wanna touch you so bad.” He gasps. “Fuck, I’m gettin’ close.” jingle jingle   

You clamp around the base again and squeeze, freeze mid-swallow - your lips around the tip - as soon as he rings.

Dean squirms and grumbles.

You continue to bring him to the edge of orgasm, then halt. Your jaw is aching along with the rest of your body as time passes.

You’ve fucked Dean up in the best way possible. He’s blissed out, wound up tighter than a spring. You’ve got him begging. But his words grow into admonishments with each successive denial. “You can’t keep doing this, baby. There’s gonna be consequences. Santa’s gonna for real put you on his naughty list. Nothing but coal in your stocking,” he huffs.

You give your mouth a reprieve and stroke him. “Is that all that happens to naughty girls?”

He gnaws at his bottom lip before offering, “You really wanna find out?”

You nod.

The ribbon binding Dean to the headboard shreds with one mighty tug. He pitches the sleigh bell in the air. It jingles as it pinballs around the room. 

You gasp as he cinches those hands under your armpits and drags you up his body. He crushes his lips into yours, tastes you with his tongue. The mixture of your arousal and a hint of peppermint melts you in his arms. Then, a sudden and swift rollover pins you beneath him.

He hovers, tosses your skirt up to your chest, and wedges between your legs. His hard, heavy cock slips into your folds and glides through your wetness. “I could drag this out. Or.” It’s his turn to tease. He notches snug against your entrance. You’re surprised your muscles haven’t pulled him into you of their own accord the way your entire body spasms with need. He whispers in your ear, “Let me be your Santa, baby.”

You gasp, “And hurry down the chimney tonight.”

He groans in victory and slides in, balls deep. He thrusts. One massive hand gathers your wrists together on the pillow above your head to anchor you in place. Fingers of his other hand grip the top of the headboard. Every sway in and out of you gets more frenetic. You’re screaming his name and he’s cursing yours. 

“Good girls do what they’re told,” he states, out of breath, face reddening. His gaze locks with yours. He slows down. Releases your hands. Finds your clit amid the white fur and red velvet. Strums. Angles and hits your sweet spot deep within you with a harsh abandon. “Come.”

Minutes later, after you’ve both orgasmed, you’re curled into his chest. “That was…” you manage between heavy exhales.

“Yeah, that was awesome.” He kisses your forehead. “Every year, since I saved you from that ghost on Christmas Eve, you find a way to outdo yourself with the holiday cheer.”

“Well, you deserve it. I’m glad you can get away for a little while and get a special treat.”

He sighs. “You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to…”

You rest a finger atop his lips. “How I see it. Guy saves your life one time, you owe him the rest of yours.”

He smiles and pulls you in. “How about we just focus on tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[coast-of-storybrooke]

── 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 !

✵ ℰve ℳarin ✵

─── [ storybrooke / curse era ]

on the outskirts of Storybrooke's main street, overlooking the coast, a lopsided white cottage is home to the Marins ─ an eclectic pair of shop-keepers and their adopted daughter. they've run a quaint shop of oddities for as long as anyone can remember... and stepping inside feels like maybe magic truly does exist.

─── 𝓐𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 !

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ; evie, vee

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 ── the neverland goddess neeve

{ the story of the goddess neeve } {coming soon ! }

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞 ── nineteen

𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬? ── not at first, but I gain them again before s1 begins [ not sure of how that will happen yet ! ]

𝐣𝐨𝐛 ── artist for a family run metaphysical / souvenir store and specializing in mythology and folklore, part-time at granny's diner

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞s ── beach combing, quilting, taking walks around town, sewing eccentric clothing, collecting, illustrating fairytale drawings, reading folk tales, being near the ocean even on the coldest of days, creating stories with henry

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ── helping at granny's diner with ruby, babysitting young henry mills, being a teacher's assistant with mary margaret, appreciating antiques with mr. gold, working at the shop with my storybrooke family, & more to come !

[ note: here is a little bit about my storybrooke self! it is so interesting to see how my neverland backstory impacts my role in storybrooke, even despite having little memories while I am actually shifting there. I have so much I could say about this reality! more ramblings coming soon! ]