OW
Habits
Request: I was wondering if you could write a song fic Tove Lo Habits about Dean Winchester I would really appreciate it. Also I love your writing :) ( @a-classy-broad )
Author’s Note: Okay. I wrote and re-wrote this fic like six times. I tried tying the lyrics into the story and I just couldn’t make it work. But once I started writing this version I couldn’t stop 😂 Enjoy :)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader
Warnings: reallyyyyyyyyy long, death of reader, sad!dean, like one or two swear words
I eat my dinner in my bathtub, then I go to sex clubs
Watching freaky people getting it on
It doesn’t make me nervous, if anything, I’m restless
Yeah, I’ve been around and I’ve seen it all
I get home, I got the munchies, binge on all my Twinkies
Throw up in the tub and I go to sleep
And I drank up all my money, tasting kind of lonely
Things hadn’t been the same without you around. Everyone could feel the shift. But, no one felt it fiercer than Dean. He was lost, and it would be next to impossible to bring him back.
He tried for months to bring you back. He met with every crossroads demon and every angel. He begged and pleaded for even the smallest chance. But, nothing worked. No one could bring you back. No one would even try. Dean Winchester was all out of second chances.
Dean let the pain swallow him whole. He figured anything would feel better than the numbness your absence caused. He wanted nothing more than a distraction. A distraction from all of the memories, kisses, and touches the two of you shared. A distraction from your glistening eyes and bloody smile. A distraction from the words that echoed in his head constantly, and would haunt him for the rest of his life. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Dean had spent every day since you had left drinking. He rarely ate or slept. And when he did sleep, it was only because he had drunk until he passed out. The bunker was always fully stocked with every alcoholic drink you could think of. And every bartender within a fifty-mile radius of the bunker had a beer waiting on the broken, green-eyed man.
You’re gone and I got to stay
High, all the time, to keep you off my mind
High, all the time, to keep you off my mind
Spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you, babe, I fall back down
Gotta stay high, all my life to forget I’m missing you
He wasn’t himself. He began taking jobs without Sam. He went in blindly, always blowing caution to the wind. And more often than not, he showed back up to the bunker bloodied and bruised. Dean’s thoughts were clouded with you and his heart ached to avenge your death. His sole purpose was to take out every demon, witch, and monster he caught wind of. The hunting life is what brought him to you. But, it was also the thing that ripped you away from him in an instant.
Sam had seen Dean like this before. Except then, Dean possessed the Mark of Cain. He had seen the same void expression on Dean’s face with every kill. And, he watched helplessly as Dean went to hunt after hunt, injuries piling on top of one another until Dean couldn’t do anything other than rest. Sam had tried giving him his space and when that didn’t work, he tried sitting him down for a heart to heart.
“Dean, she wouldn’t want this life for you,” Sam’s eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes pleading. You had loved Dean so much. More than anything in the world. And, your heart would break into thousands of pieces if you saw him like this.
“We don’t know what she would want, Sam. She’s gone,” Dean’s voice was rough and bitter. He knew Sam was only trying to help him. But, he didn’t want to be helped. He wanted you and that was a useless wish.
Pick up daddies at the playground, how I spend my day time
Loosen up their frown, make ‘em feel alive
Make it fast and greasy, I’m numb and way too easy
When Dean wasn’t drinking or hunting, he was hooking up with random girls.
It had been eight months when he first tried to move on from you, he kicked the poor woman out not even ten minutes in. That night he laid curled up on the motel mattress, your locket wrapped around his calloused hands. His tears were steady and welcomed.
After that, he would hook up with waitresses from diners, clerks from grocery stores, or even police officers and detectives he met on the job. He needed someone to hold him. Someone to kiss him. He needed someone to need him. And, once the deed was done, the girls were sent packing and never heard from Dean again. While the girls were left daydreaming of Dean, he was busy daydreaming of you. Wishing for nothing more than to hold you one more time.
You’re gone and I got to stay
High, all the time, to keep you off my mind
High, all the time, to keep you off my mind
Spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you, babe, I fall back down
Gotta stay high, all my life to forget I’m missing you
On the side of a random back road, in the middle of the woods, Dean was laid out on an old tattered blanket. The only sounds belonging to the cold, wet forest were the sound of crickets chirping, and the heart-wrenching sobs that shook Dean’s body.
“I should have protected you, baby,” his words were broken by his ragged breathing. He couldn’t bear the pain of not ever seeing you again. He should have appreciated you more. Loved you harder. His thoughts were spinning around his head and breaking his heart.
“You’re the only one for me, (Y/N),” he ran his hands over his face, desperately trying to clear his vision. He looked up at the sky and focused on the brightest star. He was convinced it was you watching down on him.
After his tears had stopped and his breathing slowed, he let his tired eyes close, “Come back to me.”
Staying in my play pretend where the fun ain’t got no end
Can’t go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain
Staying in my play pretend where the fun ain’t got no end
Can’t go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain
The strip club Dean has stumbled into was crawling with sleazy, dirty men. The entire place smelled of sweat and stale beer, and Dean took a deep breath. Suddenly, Dean felt a pair of hands run up his arms and a body press against his side. “I haven’t seen you here in a while.” Dean grimaced and turned to see the owner of the strip club eyeing him with a smirk on her red lips.
Before he met you, Dean would have loved to have this tall, blonde, beautiful girl hanging on his arm. But, now, it was just a harsh reminder that no one would or could ever replace you.
That night, while the scantily clad stripper put on a show for Dean, he laid with his eyes closed. Every touch he felt from her, he replaced with you. He remembered your silky hair and the feel of your skin. He remembered the way your smile lit up every room, and how your eyes glittered every time you looked at him. He could almost hear your laugh and it sent chills down his spine.
Those thoughts were quickly replaced with the image that plagued his mind constantly. Your eyes were glistening with unshed tears and your teeth were coated in blood. Your hair was matted to your face and neck by the sweat and blood covering your body. One of your hands was grasping his shoulder tightly, while the other cupped his cheek. His tears were falling rapidly onto your shirt and chest. There was blood everywhere. It covered you and Dean and formed a growing puddle around the two of you. He couldn’t stop it. Where was Cas? You were losing too much blood. He could feel your grip on him getting weaker. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Dean shot up in the chair and put his hands out in front of him. “Stop. Stop,” his voice was loud and uncontrollable. He stood up and threw a wad of cash at the embarrassed girl, before quickly leaving the club.
You’re gone and I got to stay
High, all the time, to keep you off my mind
High, all the time, to keep you off my mind
Spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you, babe, I fall back down
Gotta stay high, all my life to forget I’m missing you
“You’ve gotta talk to me, Dean,” Sam was walking quickly down the hallway to catch up with Dean. “This is the second case this month that you’ve done alone. Look at you! You’re hurt.”
Sam hadn’t been able to get in touch with Dean for two days. And, when Dean had finally shown back up to the bunker, he had a gash over his left eyebrow. His arm was wrapped in white cloth, the blood from his cut seeping through easily. His face was littered with bruises and he had a small limp.
“Not now, Sam,” Dean’s voice was sure and steady as he made his way into the bunker’s library. He needed information on his new lead. Some hunters he had worked with on a previous case informed him of some mysterious crop circles in Ohio.
Sam angrily followed Dean into the library and crossed his arms over his chest. “Working all of these cases isn’t going to bring her back.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he had the chance to think about it.
Dean’s back tensed and he clenched his fists at his sides. He ignored Sam’s statement and sat down in front of the laptop on the desk. Dean was sore and tired, and the last thing he needed was to listen to Sam’s nagging.
“Dean,” a flutter was heard in the room, and when Dean looked up, Cas was standing next to Sam. With a roll of his eyes, Dean slammed the laptop shut. “You guys wanna have an intervention? You want to talk? How about you shut the hell up and listen,” Dean’s voice was gravelly as he stood up, eyeing the two men.
“You,” he pointed at Sam. “You were supposed to get her out of here! Those hellhounds were after me!” Dean was yelling. His booming, thick voice made Sam flinch. “If you had done your job, she would be here right now!”
Sam’s heart felt like it was cracking and crumbling with every word Dean spoke. He laid awake almost every night, thinking and re-thinking everything he could have done differently. Dean was right. Sam was the reason you were gone.
“(Y/N), we have to leave now,” Sam was panicked. His eyes were darting in every direction and sweat was beading on his forehead. You didn’t care. You didn’t care if a hellhound swallowed you up now. You needed to find Dean.
“‘I can’t believe you were going to let him go through with this,” you shook your head as you pushed past Sam. He tried to reach for you, but you shrugged him off. “He can’t fight them off by himself, Sam!”
You broke out into a sprint when you heard a crash coming from the central room in the bunker. The hallways seemed so much longer than they were. You pushed your legs to go faster until you saw Dean. He had a cut that reached from his kneecap to his ankle. Your gasp caught Dean’s attention and he felt his entire body freeze.
His eyes were instantly filled with a hundred emotions. Worry. Sadness. Fear. Anger. Desperation. Love. The list could go on forever.
Dean’s distracted gaze gave the hellhounds an advantage. They launched themselves at Dean, knocking him to the ground. You felt your vision become cloudy with tears and you let out a shrill scream. You needed to get them away from Dean.
Sam came running in behind you, carrying an iron bar and a gun. He shoved the gun towards you and you took it. You tried to calm your breathing and your hands before pulling the trigger.
Just as you felt confident enough to shoot, you were shoved to the ground. You felt like the weight of a car was lying on top of you. Then you felt it. A tear from the top of your thigh to your kneecap. Blood was flowing out of the cut in steady pools. You felt another tear on your shoulder. Then stomach. Then nothing. You couldn’t tell if you were numb, or if the boys had killed the hounds.
Your eyes were filled with unshed tears when Dean pulled you into his lap. You couldn’t feel it, but you could see him. He was beautiful. His eyes were bloodshot and tears were falling from his eyes freely. He was screaming at Sam. Or, maybe Cas. You weren’t sure. You reached for his shoulder, then his cheek. You could stare at him all day. You couldn’t wait to marry him and get away from this life. He deserved to get away.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
Cas finally cut in on Dean’s rant. “He did everything he could. (Y/N) was going to do what she nee-,” Cas was cut off by Dean’s hands shoving him backward.
“You don’t get to talk about her!” Dean was barely holding it together. His nails were digging crescent-shaped marks on his palms.
“Where were you, Cas,” his verbal attack was brutal and relentless. “You could have saved her! You could have healed her, you bastard!”
Cas’s mouth shut quickly and he stayed quiet. Dean’s breathing was ragged and he ran his hands over his face. “She’s never coming back.”
The room was silent other than Dean’s loud breathing. In a rush of anger, Dean knocked a stack of books off of the table. “My girl is NEVER coming back. I don’t want to hear any more from either of you. This is who I am now.”
“I died when she did.”
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