Dean Winchester/Demon!Reader
The house was silent as the wind blew through its old frame. The tattered remnants of a home stood in its place, reminding others of what was and could have been. The gravel crunched as silent tires rolled over them, pulling up to the rickety stairs. The lights shone bright through the fog, as the car sputtered and died. Cursing could be heard from within the vehicle, as an man in his late fifties clambered out. The hood popped to the tiny truck, then the man bent over to examine it, smoke adding to the dense air.
A hollow wail echoed from inside the old house, startling the man under the hood.
"Is anyone there?" He said, creeping up the stairs.
They groaned under the man's weight, one even cracked and splintered as he pressed his foot down.
"Hello? Do you need help?" He asked to the house.
"HELP ME!!!" A child screamed, making the man dart inside the house.
Laughing came from inside the house, as they caught another pitiful human. The man screamed, before his voice was added to the mix.
"HELP ME!!" his voice echoed.
The car sputtered to life, slowly dragging itself to the side of the house, where hundreds of modes of transportation rested. From broken bicycles, to rusted school busses, now a lonely blue truck was added to the collection.
2 weeks later
"Excellent job (y/n), I didn't know you had it in ya." Dean turned his head around his seat, peering into the backseat.
"Well, I learned from the best." (Y/n) stated, giving the man a half-hearted punch on his sholder.
The boys and (y/n) had been driving for almost 10 hours straight before anyone had the guts to talk. The silence was eerie, not even the songs of AC/DC that flowed from the speakers had an affect on the people riding. The demon hunt had gone bad, she had escaped the trap somehow, and attacked (y/n), leaving carved flesh in her fingers wake across her face.
(Y/n) had a cloth pressed tightly against her face, to the point of stopping the bleeding but the pain subsiding to a faint ache. She peeled the rag off her cheek, gazing at the drying blood stains, before returning it to her torn skin.
When they finally reached a motel, Dean went in to get a room. Leaving Sam and (y/n) alone, licking their wounds. Dean came out, handing Sam the bags and (y/n) the keys to the room. He then proceeded to hop in his car, going to find the greasy fast food that only helped with clogging his arteries.
He came back two hours later, complaining of none of the places he went to had pie, which was a necessity for the lovable troll. Sam and (y/n) had already settled down, as much as they could in a cheep motel, with the possibility that they had to run any minute.
He placed the food on the nightstand, grease already leaving its residue on the scuffed surface. Sam took the first shower, as (y/n) cleaned off her blade.
(Your POV)
You could admit that Dean Winchester was in fact likeable he just seemed to like women who were let's say, not your type.
You sighed, looking up at the ceiling, the molded water stains claiming it as theirs. Dean slept soundly beside you, snoring softly as you watched him.
He would never accept you, could is a better word. You were what he hated most.
Demon.
At the word your eyes flicked to black, unable to contain the fury. The demon who attacked you today recognized you, and if you didn't kill her, she would get a gang after you. Your eyes flicked back to a normal (e/c), as Dean subconsciously wrapped an arm around you. You shifted, making him growl before squeezing you closer.
You had to leave, like now.
You twisted out of his grip, making sure not to alarm him. Just then the door slammed open, revealing three burly demons at the door, startling Dean and Sam awake.
Before they could react, they were thrown up against the wall, as the biggest demon stepped closer.
"Tsk..tsk...tsk...(y/n). You have been naughty." He said, scooting closer to you.
He ripped the demon knife from your hand, tossing it across the floor.
"You will be coming with us." He purred, it sounding like metal grinding against metal.
"I would never go with your sulfuric black-eyed asses." You spit, glaring at the man.
He wrapped his hands around your neck, earning shouts and strings of curses from Dean and Sam. Your lungs burned as his hands cut off your air, and you struggled, only making your situation worse. You felt you vision go black as he dragged you out by your hair. You faintly smiled as Dean dropped to the floor, followed by Sam, knowing that they would be alright.
Dean grabbed his gun, shooting at the demons, even though he knew they wouldn't do damage to the walking meat-suits. Sam, being smart, got the license plate, make and model of the get away car, as his brother foolishly wasted ammo. After his round was empty, Dean dropped the gun to the floor, quickly starting to pack their bags.
"What do you think you are doing?" Sam asked, watching his brother throw his stuff in the huge duffel bag.
"We are going to find (y/n)."
You woke up to darkness, the familiar pressure around you ankles, wrists, and chin were the telltale signs of your position.
A chuckle echoed in the still room, as a fire was kindled, suddenly bursting into a full orange flame. A pot sat above it, an unknown liquid swirling around in its depts, while rods of metal were being heated in the base of the fire.
Your captor loomed over you, pitch black eyes staring into your twisted soul. You returned the glare, your eyes flickering to black. He just chuckled, walking around you, as if assessing which torture method to use.
"Now, (y/n), you will tell me why you were bunking with those Winchesters, and what their next move is."
The man trailed a cold finger down your thigh, making your body involuntarily shudder.
"Never." You hissed, making the man's eyes grow even colder.
"Well," he replied, smirking and rubbing his calloused hands together, "that simply won't due. I am afraid I will have to get it out of you."
"Go to Hell. No wait, you already have, so what are you going to do to me that I haven't already endured." You reply sarcastically.
This wasn't your first rodeo, you know what happens this time, the same old, same old.
He laughs, "Upon trail and error, we have figured out some new ways of digging information out of stubborn demons like you."
Your eyes grow wide as he places long, up-to-the-shoulder gloves on, and reaches to the bubbling liquid over the raging fire.
"This, my dear sweetie, is boiling hot, salt infused holy water. It's a demon's nightmare. And now for your bath."
You stifle as the scalding water is poured over you, but you prepared, hiding yourself up in your brain. Sores leap on your steaming skin, screams flowing from your mouth, only to end in your hysterical laughing.
"You think a little water is gonna make me talk?" Your sneer, "This is child's play!"
He sets the bucket down, then reaches for the prod, glowing white hot, as he pulls it from the coals.
"What are you gonna do now? Brand me?"
He smirks once again, "This, is something we created in memory of my fellow friend, Ruby."
You glare at it, finally seeing the exact symbols that are carved into Ruby's knife.
He quickly presses it against your skin, the pain making your eyes burn in agony. He digs it into your skin, cauterizing the flesh as blood seeps to the surface. When it turns black once again, he places it back into the fire, and you taste blood, realizing you had bit clean through your lip.
He reaches over and grabs a syringe, with a swirling blue liquid. Your eyes narrow, trying to remember what it is.
"You're gonna love this one. I inject this into your arm, and guess what it is." He says, holding it up to your face.
"It is pure soul, it will try to clean your twisted one, eventually killing you if I inject enough."
Without a second glance, he jabs it into the flesh of your neck, making your body jerk in response. You felt it eating away at you, literally staring to erase your existence. You struggled at the bonds, as another needle entered your stomach, more pure souls eating away at you.
You felt a light, and you close your eyes, hearing the demon scream in pain. Dean's voice cuts through, your eyes snapping open, only to reveal two emerald orbs staring into your pitch black ones.
"Dean?" Your voice cracks, the souls almost finished.
"Why didn't you tell us (y/n)?" He asked, his voice laced with rejection.
A lone tear dipped from your eyelashes, as a dying moan escaped your torn lips. You reached out, caressing his cheek, feeling the slight stubble underneath your fingers.
"Dean...I'm dying!" You gasp, as he begins unlocking your bonds.
"Not on my watch, you aren't." He grunted.
You collapsed to the floor, Dean going down with you.
"Dean, they injected pure souls into her." Sam stated, holding up the syringes.
"Well then de-inject them Sammy!" He bellowed, pushing a strand of (h/c) hair from (y/n) face.
"It's impossible, Dean. She truly is dying." Sam sniffs.
Dean leans over you, as your back raises, trying to expel the souls. Your eyesight is fading, but you don't want to go.
"(Y/n), I love you. Please don't go, I can't live without you. Your smile brightens up my day, and I don't care that your a demon. I just...please be okay!"
You sharply exhale, "Dean, I love you too. I-"
Dean shook you as you failed to finish your sentence, your body growing stiff, as the souls exited your body.
Dean carried your body outside, stepping down the creaky stairs, and placing you gently in the Impala.
"Dean, they must have been luring the humans out here for their souls." Sam stated, gesturing to the hundreds of vehicles parked beside the house.
"Doesn't that truck look familiar?" Dean asked, pointing to a faded, baby blue truck.
"It does."