Supernatural X Reader Smut

Leather Squeaks,But I'll make you scream:Dean Winchester

Full title: Leather Squeaks,But I'll Make You Scream (Dean Winchester)

Warnings: no smut as of yet but fondling. Mentions death of family. Blood. Part 1 of 3.

Word count: 2549 words. ( I got carried away...)

You crept through the abandoned factory almost soundlessly. You held you sawed-off in one hand,loaded with rock salt, and a flashlight in the other.

You were no ordinary security guard. You were a hunter. Things that went bump in the night and hurt the innocent were your targets. Saving as many lives as possible was your goal. It was in your blood.

Your parents were hunters, and unfortunately they had paid their price for this life a couple of years ago.

They were investagating a vamp nest in southern Lousianna they had recieved a call about, when things went sour. Nevertheless, you honored them how they asked you too; a hunter's burial: salted and burned in their favorite clothes, holding hands still clasped with their wedding rings.

Of course,it took some time for you to get a grip on life without them. You became unfathomly good at hunting alone, eating alone, covering your tracks alone, being invisible to everyone alone. Just being alone. Alone.

You rubbed your heart absentmindedly. Being alone hurt. You missed the sweet sound of your mother laughing at your dad's corny jokes. How they would teach you incantations and exorcisms as nursery rhymes. How that old cadillac was your daddy's pride and joy and the long summer days you'd spent fixing it together. You even missed researching cases with your mother. Hell, you missed everything about them. Yeah, maybe it wasn't a normal family background but it was yours,and damnit they did they best they could.

Focus. You ordered yourself. The ghost you were hunting at managed to hurt far too many children. Amy Elenor died in 1803 as a result of a severe beating she encountered by the hands of her father. He hid her body somewhere in the factory he worked at, so she was never properly put to rest. Now she was haughting the place, ganking kids who dared to enter the factory after hours the same way she was.

Yeah,life wasn't fair and neither was the afterlife, aparently.

As you reached the stairs,you heard voices. Shit,some kids are testing their luck. As you took the stairs up,you realized something much more worrisome. Those weren't kid voices. Those were men.

"Sam, c'mon where is she?" one voice asked.

"Dean, I told you I don't know!" another voice answered.

Are they talking about me? You think, pausing.

"We can't salt and burn when there's no body, Sammy!"

Fuck. Hunters. Wait a second,this is my hunt!

You burst up on the landing, saw-off ready, startling the two men who quickly turned to face you,guns drawn.

You didn't drop your weapon,they didn't drop theirs. As a hunter, your weapon was your life and you can only trust family. These men were neither a shiny gun or your daddy. Sure the rock salt wouldn't kill them per say, unless you unloaded on their faces three inches to their nose,but it would hurt.

Like a bitch.

"Howdy boys," you drawl with a smile. "Wanna tell me why you're in my factory looking for my ghost?"

You hear a scoff,but it's too dark to see which one of them did it.

"You?You're a hunter?" a deep voice asks.

Your eyes weren't quite adjusted to the darkness yet,and surprisingly no body had raised their flashlights to actually see each other. All three of the flashlights hung facing down, their lighted glows illuminating a circle at the three sets of feet.