Guess who is doing SPN Kink Bingo on Tumblr this year? *throws confetti* This one fills my panty kink square, and was a lot of fun to write. Enjoy!

I didn't know whether to laugh or roll my eyes.

My phone went off several hours before with a text from a number saved as C: You really need to lock your doors. Anybody could sneak into your room and leave a few surprises in your closet.

Intrigued, I answered immediately, What surprises? And we've talked about you sneaking into my room.

You'll have to look for yourself. And I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about.

Of course he didn't.

I checked my room as soon as I got home, wondering what in the world Crowley had left this time. There were roses and wine once, which was nice, but there was also the mummified corpse of a cat from an ancient Egyptian temple, complete with sarcophagus, said to bring wisdom and good fortune. That was...not so nice, but I guess it's the thought that counts. In his words, what else do you get an Egyptologist?

Yep, there were definitely days I regretted accidentally summoning the literal King of Hell, much less getting into a relationship with him, but at least it kept life interesting. Which maybe wasn't the word I would use to describe his "surprise" in my closet, a ridiculous lingerie set consisting of a bra made of something sheer and filmy, a garter belt and fishnet stockings, and-that bastard had nerve-crotchless panties.

In the end, I rolled my eyes. I pulled out my phone and texted, You've got to be kidding me.

He responded with, It didn't fit?

I'm not wearing this, I sent back.

"It's the wrong color, isn't it?"

I nearly dropped my phone in shock, his sudden appearance catching me off guard. Black suit, dark overcoat, gray tie, and an innocent expression I had already learned to mistrust with every bone in my body. He put on a concerned, solicitous air and added, "I thought you said it was your favorite, but I'm happy to correct my mistake-"

"Crowley," I cut in, "I'm not wearing this."

"Clearly, darling, or we'd be having a different conversation."

"Ever."

"Oh, come on, don't knock it until you've tried it. I thought you might appreciate something a little different from the usual, straitlaced, spinster librarian look you have all day at work."

"And as I recall, you go for my usual, straitlaced, spinster librarian look."

He shrugged. "Who hasn't had the naughty librarian fantasy, love? And the naughty school girl, the naughty teacher, the naughty nun…"

I shook my head as I sat down on the edge of my bed and took off my shoes, side-eyeing the lingerie. "The answer is still no," I insisted, stretching my sore feet and rotating my ankles. "If you want to shower me with gifts, how about some shoes that don't make me want to cut my feet off?"

"Right, right," he agreed, "I forgot that shoe fetish of yours."

"You're the one who wanted me to leave the stilettos on last night."

"You're the one who wanted me to bend you over your desk as soon as we got home."

"That's not even on the same level-"

"And pull your hair."

"Look, people say things in the heat of the moment-"

"And slap you across the ass a few times."

"Mister Crowley!"

"Yes, darling?"

"You're an ass."

He grinned at me, then gestured to the lingerie. "Just trying to get a rise out of you, love," he assured me, "although…" he gave me a sideways look, a wicked gleam in his eyes, "if you feel like trying it on, I won't object…"

"Tell you what," I said, folding my arms across my chest, "if it means that much to you, you try it on."

His look of instant shock made me wish I had a camera. "Me?" he repeated. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Oh, now I'm ridiculous?" I challenged, holding up the panties in demonstration. "What, his Highness can't handle what he dishes out?"

"Au contraire, sweetheart. You couldn't handle what I can dish out, should you make too much of a nuisance of yourself."

"Right," I said, pretending to stifle a dramatic yawn, unimpressed. "Remind me of that next time you come begging for information on some relic you're after."

That hit a nerve. He stood at his full height and fixed me with a look of cool superiority. "Oh, I see," he said. "You think because you've been useful a time or two that you have some kind of leverage and you can bend me to your will. Like you have some kind of power. Don't you?"

I shrugged, unmoved. "I am particularly useful, and that gives me something of an edge," I reminded him.

"You think so?" he asked, reaching down and running a finger over the fishnets. "Because I'm familiar with your other edges, you know. The things you want. The things you think of. The things that get you feeling…" he gave me that look that always seemed to snatch the breath from me, "...needy."

I swallowed, the resulting gulp embarrassingly loud in the silence.

He gave a satisfied smirk and put his hand under my chin, tilting my face up as he looked down at me. "You like the idea of it, don't you?" he asked, his voice soft and sultry. "It's so out of the ordinary, so, dare you say...taboo…" He ran his thumb along my bottom lip, his eyes dark and intense. "You don't dare ask, of course," he went on. "Too shy, perhaps, too afraid of being judged for your desires. And what if you put yourself out there in earnest and you're rejected? Shamed? Humiliated?"

He slowly pushed the tip of his thumb into my mouth and my eyes fell shut as my jaw relaxed and my lips parted, letting him in farther, my tongue swirling around his finger while I gave a quiet sigh that barely masked a whimper.

Other than a devious glint in his eyes, he didn't react as he kept talking. "Can't have that, can you, so you pretend it's nothing until you know if it's safe, and even then you treat it like a game, all so no one ever knows how much you want it. You can be a serious academic, you can try to be vanilla, but you and I both know what's really hiding in your closet. A kinky...dirty...naughty...freak."

I let out a moan and gripped his wrist, drawing his finger into my mouth and sucking while clenching my thighs tighter together. He tilted my head farther back and I opened my eyes, certain that my arousal was only too visible; it would take someone stronger than me to hide anything from Crowley. He cracked me open and made me willing to give up all my secrets like no one had before, and I loved every second.

"We've talked about this, darling," he said, that smoky voice stirring heat and hellfire under my skin, "if you want something, you have to speak up. How can I make you happy if you don't tell me what you need?"

He took his thumb from my mouth and I stood in a rush, leaning up for a kiss. He met me halfway, as cool and in control as I was desperate and needy. His tongue traced my lips and I opened my mouth for him, shaking so badly I was clinging to him to stay standing. He let it go on for a moment, then grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me back, breaking away. "Tell me, love," he insisted. "I'm the last one to kink shame. What do you want?"

It felt wrong to ask, which made the asking more thrilling. "Will you try it on for me?"

He gave a wicked smile that shot straight through me. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked. He kissed me one more time as he reached for the stockings. "I do love your depravity."

Leave me some love!