You Rang?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: demon!dean

Summary: A week after Dean is killed and he disappears, you run to the nearest crossroads to get him back. Problem is, the demon won’t make a deal. 

Words: 694

Original Imagine: None, but if you know one that matches, send it my way so I can link it!

A/N: Just a quick story that popped into my head before I started homework. I was really itching to write today so I figured I’d get something out before I commit myself to studying the rest of the night


Your hands dig into the cold earth as tears fall into the dirt under you. 

You don’t care that your fingers are bleeding or that you’re breathing so hard you feel like you’re going to pass you.

You have to get him back.

You need to get him back.

Your world crashed and burned when Metatron stabbed that angel blade through Dean’s chest. 

Your heart stopped when the light left Dean’s eyes as you held him to your chest. 

You didn’t even care about the consequences of the deal you were about to make.

Even if the demon only gave you one day, that would be enough.

As soon as the hole is deep enough, you drop the tin box in and cover it as quickly as possible. 

You get off your aching knees and look around the abandoned road.

“Where are you?” You scream into the night, your voice as broken as your heart.

“Show your face! Make me a deal!” You cry into the air, feeling yourself shut down even more as each passing moment goes unanswered. 

“You rang?” A familiar, gruff voice calls from behind you.

You turn slowly, not wanting to face the man you know is there.

But do, with a quivering lip and shattered heart.

“Dean.” The word escapes in a sigh.

He grins. Your grin. The one he flashed you whenever he caught you staring at him. Or when he was proud of you for kicking ass.

“In the flesh.” His eyes flash black and your breath shutters. 

His hands are in his pockets and he looks totally at ease. He looks down at the haphazard pile of dirt in between the two of you, and he kicks at it.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

His words shake you out of your stupor and bring you back to your mission, the only thing keeping you going at this point.

“Make me a deal.” You say with confidence, raising your head higher and straightening out your back.

His smile falters a bit and he looks down at the ground with a chuckle.

“Not gonna happen.” Your eyes narrow in confusion and you swallow hard.

“Why not?” You demand, anger slowly replacing your anguish.

He sighs like he’s about to say something he’s said a million times before.

“Because I know what you want, Y/N,” he starts to circle around you, not in a predatory manner, but still looking you up and down as he goes.

You remain still and look ahead at the empty road in front of you. 

“And I’m not going to give it to you.” He stops behind you, standing so close you can feel the heat of his chest radiating onto your back. 

You turn around to face him, surprised to find him even closer than you anticipated.

“I put my god damn box in the crossroad,” you point behind you. “And you’re going to make me a deal.”

“That’d be a complete waste of such a pretty soul.” He smirks down at you. 

You forehead creases and your nose scrunches up in confusion. 

Before you can even ask what he means, Dean takes a step closer to you, bringing your bodies together.

His hands settle in the loops of your jeans, and his lips press against your ear.

“I like it.” He pulls away to look into your eyes. “I’m free. Free from guilt, pain, Sammy, you. I never have to worry about anything ever again.” He pushes away from you and walks back to the spot where he originally appeared, but this time, you don’t turn to face him.

Your eyes are cast down to the dirt below you, and you’re too dejected to look anywhere else. 

Free from you. The words ring over and over and over again.

Your body begins to quiver and you feel your knees go weak, but somehow, some invisible strength keeps you up.

“Give Sammy my best.”

You close your eyes and listen to the quiet sounds of nothingness.

You know he’s gone. You can feel he’s gone.

And without his eyes staring down at you, you collapse into the dirt.