Written as a sort-of request from Daughter of a Witch (SPN Amino app)
Crobby (My first!)
“Balls!” Bobby took his hat off his head, wiping back his sweaty hair before replacing it, reaching for his gun as he heard a crash from downstairs.
He crept down the steps slowly, running through his last salt-line check. He didn’t think he had missed any, but then again, last he remembered he was also in the living room.
He stepped as quietly as he could across his floor, praying his aging house didn’t give away his location.
Just as he was nearing the kitchen, the doors swung open, startling him.
The sound of the gun going off momentarily stunned him before his eyes were met with black, fuck.
“Well hello to you too, Darling.” Crowley placed the whiskey glass down before raising an eyebrow as he saw the bullet hole in his chest, “This is Italian!” He huffed once before digging his hand into the wound, “Y’know, if you had used the Colt,” he grit his teeth before yanking his hand out of the wound, emerging with the bullet between his fingers, “I’d be dead.”
“What’re you doing here?” Bobby clicked the safety on before putting the gun down, walking over to steal the mans’ drink, “Besides drinking my whiskey?”
The demon smiled, “Not one for small talk, are you?”
The hunter narrowed his eyes as he took a swig from the glass, taking a few steps back.
Crowley caught his wrist, smile widening, “I was hoping to make this a…” he brought his lips close to his ear, “personal visit.”
“I take it you know the boys’ ain’t here?”
“One of the perks of being me.”
The brunette eyed him for a moment before wrenching his wrist out of the demons’ grasp, crossing the room to his desk, “What makes you think I got time for that?”
“Bobby,” Crowley followed him, jumping up to sit on his desk, “You know what they say about all work and no play.”
The hunter eyed the demon for a moment before sighing, “Fine.” He flipped the giant book closed in a puff of dust, “But make it quick. The boys’ll be back any minute.”
Crowley smirked, “I could always send them a little…” he crept closer, sitting in the hunters’ lap, “distraction.”
“You do,” Bobbys’ breath caught in his throat as the demon went to work on his neck, “and next time I’ll make sure I use the Colt.”
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