Ty for the tag @rositxespinosa & @mattyriddlesbitch 💕

Thank you for the tag, bubs 🥹🩷🩷🩷

don’t punish yourself for a kiss.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO PRINT A RECEIPT???????

yes / no?

QTY ITEM AMT

01 . . . dean redding

02 . . . fem!reader

ITEM COUNT: commissioned by @blueribbcn

TAX: dean redding was never good at letting anyone in—except for you.

TOTAL: i’m so mad rn the first time i wrote this IT DID NOT SAVE AND I HAD TO START AGAIN. right. okay. whatever. wyd when your bff is sad that there’s no dean fics on tumblr? you write her one, obviously. i think this might be the first dean fic in tumblr????? maybe???? don’t quote me on that but i think it is. the naturals fandom i’m here to feed you all once again, i promise to write more you guys but in general, i’m cooking up some boys of tommen fics and i want to revamp my account too so i’m really excited!!! i hope you guys enjoy this so much ily all bye bye. oh also little spam to say that i posted a michael fic recently and tumblr hates me so i think it’s hiding it i dont really know but it has me very upset anyway i just wanted to say that in case no one knew okay bye mwah!

CARD #: F3BRU4RY 22 2O26

AUTH CODE: signed by 𝓑LOODWRITTENLETTERS

CARDHOLDER: spoilers. (sorta) angst!!! self-harm, mentions of murder, trauma, abuse, and violence, reader and dean are more than friends. not proof read.

“you do understand, that this is not your fault, right?”

dean doesn’t stop, not when the door opens or closes, nor when you start to speak. the quickest glance he gives you is the only thing that makes you believe he even knows you’re in the room. that, and how his punches grow stronger, fiercer, angrier.

as if he needed to prove himself to you.

the wrappings around his fingers grew dirtier, and the sight of blood on the punching bag made you grimace. sweat trailed down his spine and his back muscles were so tense you were afraid they might pop out of place.

“dean,” you tried again, taking a step closer to him.

“you should leave.”

“and you should stop that, i wonder who’s gonna do what first.”

he doesn’t stop, not really, he just eases his punches now, as if that could please you. dean knew you were never approving of his way of releasing his anger in this way, the arguments the two of you constantly had over it never went unheard by him, but in a world that seems to be waiting for him to turn out to be a monster, taking it out on a punching bag was the best he could do. he just wanted everyone to stop looking at him like a ticking time bomb.

“dean, you’re hurting yourself.”

“i deserve it,” he spit out, his breath growing messier.

your heart squeezed, and when he delivered the next punch, he might as well have hit you with the way the air left your lungs.

dean’s pain left his body with each hit, it mixed with the air, and like a venomous cloud it curled around itself until it found a new host to torment. and in this moment, it found you.

you and dean have had a close relationship since you joined the naturals program, from a very early stage, you had clear that dean had a key to surpass your walls no matter if you wanted it to be that way or not. and the same went for him. there was an unspoken acknowledgement that neither of you were to lie to the other—it would be a complete waste of time.

apart from your abilities that got you both into this program in the first place, there was familiarity to fill the space between you. it was worthless to try and hide from the other.

and, deep inside, you knew that dean wasn’t trying to hide from you. he wasn’t doing this to spite you, he was doing it because he couldn’t stop.

you imagined yourself to be in dean’s place for a moment.

fear, anger, betrayal, mixed with the cruelty he had to deal with at a very young age dean had one of the most tragic stories you had the displeasure of knowing. his pain twisted around your ribs, holding each and every single one with such delicacy you could easily forget why even he needed help in the first place. when it felt like your bones were about to crack, you spoke up again.

“dean, i need you to stop and look at me.”

he looked at you, glancing over his shoulder, blonde hair dripping with sweat and sticking to his tanned skin, his brown eyes soft in a saddened way. however, he did not stop.

you took a step closer, and then two more until you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. ignoring his groan, you pressed your chest into his sweaty back, and your cold forehead hit the heated skin. you shut your eyes.

“please, i need you to stop.”

the sound of skin (or whatever you would call what dean used to wrap around his knuckles) against leather stopped immediately after your quiet plea.

“what are you doing?”

“it’s a hug,” your murmured, nuzzling your temple into the little bump his spine made. “i’m hugging you.”

“why?” he whispered, his voice shaking.

“because you deserve love. and i will give it to you, forever.”

dean’s hand went to cup yours over his stomach, softly grabbing them from his skin. your hands felt soft under his, more careful than he was right now. you didn’t complain as he turned around and dragged you into his chest. his chin felt on top of your head, and you took a deep breath against his neck, eyes still shut.

“i can’t stand looking in a mirror and seeing him,” he started to whisper, his hand going up your back and down.

it felt like he was doing it to calm himself, you didn’t mind. you were okay with being his stress toy as long as he needed.

you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to relax him. and it was working, little by little.

soon, his face was buried against your neck and one of his hands was fisting your hair as he tried to not soak you with any tears more than he had already done with his sweat.

“i hate how he thinks he owns me, i hate how i’m his son, i hate carrying his last name. i have so much hate inside of me that sometimes i think this is how i’ll end up like him.”

he sniffled, digging his nose bridge deeper into your neck. waiting to see if you wanted to say something.

“you hate him because you’re a good person, dean,” it was what he was desperately hoping for on the inside. for you to comfort him. and you were. he held you closer. “you don’t have to punish yourself just because he won’t.”

he shook his head.

“you don’t deserve pain, okay? i need you to understand that, i need you to stop doing this to yourself.”

dean took a ragged breath against your skin, his lips rubbing over as he tried to inhale as much air available without having to detangle himself from you.

“you don’t get it.”

“i do get it. i’m just not okay with it.”

“why not?” he snapped, forehead thudding into yours, hating how you turned your head to look at him.

he didn’t want to look into your eyes and watch his reflection look back. he hated the sight of himself in these moments, it made him sick, he couldn’t stand to see it in you. not right now. he didn’t want to take it.

“because you matter to me, and i don’t want you to be in pain.”

“i can take it.”

the pain on your ribs deepened, squeezing your heart grotesquely.

“i don’t want you to,” the tip of your nose brushed against his. “please, dean, i can’t stand looking at you like this. i can’t listen to you telling me you deserve it. you don’t, you never did.”

in dean’s chest, the dwell of emotions his father had groped into him started to lessen when a pull to your lips was calling his name. he couldn’t do that, but he allowed himself a few seconds how soft your mouth would be. he allowed the fantasy of your kiss to act as a balm for his should. just for today.

dean always knew his feelings for you weren’t strictly platonic, but your friendship was a greater deal than he could ever ask for, so he held onto it with every bit of strength that he had.

“could you… could you maybe help me clean up?” he whispered.

deep into his dark eyes, you nodded numbly. too lost on his gaze to continue the conversation. you just wanted to see him better. you just wanted those eyes to look at you and be full of happiness. they were far to beautiful to be drowning in that state. all of him was too beautiful, too pure, too kind, for the sort of trauma his father had dumped into his life.

“yeah, i will,” you swallowed hard. “i need for you to understand that you deserve love and softness, okay? can you try to do that for me?”

“i would do anything for you.”

fuck ice

fuck trump

abortions are healthcare

no one is illegal on stolen land

You don’t have to post this — I just hope you'll open your eyes. If you truly follow God, you already know where you should stand.

OH MY GOD BRO GET A LIFE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

don’t you PISS ME OFF. kore is completely valid and right for her choices of what to write or not write, her not wanting to write SEXUAL CONTENT about a character that was introduced as a CHILD and has stayed a child for most of its continuity is not hypocrisy, and it is not weird.

don’t you talk to me about God when you’re borderline harassing multiple people for someone’s choice to not sexualize a minor, and for others to support that choice. and, i do follow God, and i know exactly where i stand—it is on HER side.

it’s clear to me that you weren’t expecting kore and others to stand by what they believe and what is right, i think that’s why you’re running to different blogs and talking about this as an attempt for people to side with you after being met with clear, and correct arguments that are both ethical and legal.

you need to learn to respect boundaries, and you need to learn right from wrong.

what you are doing is wrong, it’s actually really disturbing the way you believe that a writer not wanting to write smut about a character that—at its core, is a child—is wrong, or hypocritical.

you cannot compare damien, who is known as a child, who is shown as a child more often than not, to a character like bruce who’s main story has always been him as an adult, or to jason and dick, who even if they were introduced as kids, have grown up and their childhood was only the origin of their stories and not the focus point. it simply isn’t comparable.

you should be more worried about your wish for somebody to provide you content in which a minor is sexualized than someone setting a boundary.

stop acting like you’re above this, like you’re some savior of justice. you’re not. you’re just weird and creepy for this, and i hope you realize that and stop talking.