Alone at Last

Chapter 1

Fic:

Crowley's POV

"Here you are, the list of all of the names and locations of the demons you asked about," Crowley said as he handed a sheet of paper to Dean. The older Winchester began to look the list over, Sam at his side. She stood slightly behind the two brothers, peering at the list between their arms. Y/N seemed so small compared to Squirrel and Moose, but then again, who wouldn't?

"Um... excuse me, sorry, but there's something I'd like to point out," Y/N stated.

"Yes, Pet?" Crowley questioned. At the nickname the Winchesters gave Crowley death stares to rival those of any other human being. Crowley stared right back.

Y/N seemed to ignore the stares between the three men and continued speaking instead, "Well, Crowley, it's just that you said that this list contained the names of the demons we asked you about." When she said his name, warmth began to spread through his body. Does she have any clue about the things she does to me?

Y/N had stopped talking. "And?" Crowley asked in an attempt to get her to continue.

"And," she said, "There are names on this list that we didn't ask about."

"Ah, yes. I figured that if I gave you lot the names and locations you wanted, you'd owe me a favor in return. I've decided that this favor would be for you three to take care of some rebellious demons that I haven't had time to deal with," Crowley summarized, and then looked from one Winchester to the other, "You've got a clever one here boys, you'd do best to keep her alive."

"Was that a threat?" Dean asked, becoming defensive as he pushed Y/N further behind him. Crowley was almost disappointed. He was dismayed by the fact that he could no longer see Y/N, but amused by the fact that he could get Dean wound up with a few simple words.

A smirk plastered itself across Crowley's face, "Not at all, Dean, I was simply stating the fact that people who get close to the two of you tend to die slow, horrific deaths. I only wanted to warn Y/N of the dangers of hunting with the Winchesters."

"I think it's time you leave," Sam growled at Crowley.

"Of course," Crowley said in a friendly voice, "Boys, Y/N." Crowley bowed his head at Y/N as she peered out from behind Dean's shoulder. With a snap he was gone.

* * *

Crowley had reappeared in the forest outside of the Men of Letter's bunker. He had already waited for over an hour, but was determined to see Y/N one last time before she left for the hunt with the Winchesters. Finally, he heard the roar of the Impala as it pulled out of the bunker's garage. Dean was driving while Sam occupied the passenger seat, but as far as he could tell Y/N wasn't in the car. Crowley heard a flutter of wings and the screech of wheels as Castiel appeared in front of the Impala. The two brothers stepped out of the car, had a conversation with Castiel (that Crowley was unable to hear from where he stood), and then all three men got into the car and drove away. Where the bloody Hell is she? Oh... OH. She's in the bunker, alone.

Crowley smiled to himself. He had been waiting for this moment ever since he had met her. He had never been alone with her, that winged rat or the bloody Winchesters were always with her. This was his chance. He could finally speak to her alone and possibly get to know her a little bit better.

She was so strange, not strange in a bad way, more of an intriguing way. Crowley had seen her fight. She was strong, brave, and selfless. When she thought she was alone with the Winchesters or Cas, she was outgoing and boisterous. Her smile could make Crowley smile, but her smiles were never directed at him. As soon as Crowley would make himself known to her, she would become reserved to the point of utter shyness. She averted her gaze as much as possible and never responded to his jokes or innuendoes with anything more than a blush. He could never get her to laugh, or smile, or joke back. She was infuriating. Why was she so open with those incessant brothers and their flying monkey, but so guarded around him. Sure, he was the King of Hell, but Crowley wasn't going to take that as an excuse for Y/N's coldness towards him.

As soon as the Impala was well out of sight, Crowley snapped his fingers and reentered the bunker. Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Crowley began to wander the halls of the bunker and came close to yelling out her name until he heard a noise coming from the other side of a closed door. Moans, Y/N's moans.

No, this couldn't be real, could it? She was on the other side of the door, pleasuring herself. So this is what she does when she thinks she's alone.Crowley could feel himself becoming hard as her moans began to get louder. One of his hands moved to rest on the wall next to the door; the other moved up to loosen his tie. His clothes were extremely uncomfortable all of the sudden. Slowly, his ear began to move closer to the door in order to better hear the sounds she was making.

Crowley couldn't help but wonder who she was thinking about as she touched herself. Please let it be anyone besides that baby in a trench coat. The sounds Crowley heard made him imagine her as she touched herself. He could almost see her sprawled out on her sheets. Legs spread wide as she fingered herself. Head thrown back with pleasure as each gasp and moan escaped her lips. Her other hand trailed over her body, rolling a nipple between her fingers before moving to fist the sheets.

I should leave; she would never forgive me if she knew that I was invading her privacy like this. No matter how many times he told himself to leave, Crowley couldn't pull himself away from Y/N's door. Her sounds and his imagination kept him glued to the spot where he stood.

Y/N's voice emanated from behind the door, "Ah... oh, yes, Crowley, please! My King!" For Crowley, the world came to a halt. The sound of his name falling from Y/N's lips made him move away from the door in shock, his back hitting the opposite wall. It's me. Not Dean, not Sam, not Castiel, me. I'm the one she's thinking about, and she called me her King. Crowley couldn't take it anymore. He was already hard, but her voice made him harder. Crowley palmed himself through his pants, but the sensation wasn't what he wanted. He began to remove his pants and boxers, the sounds of Y/N's moans egging him on.

His cock was finally free. It sprung from its confines and Crowley ran his fingers from the underside of the base to the tip of his cock. All the while, he imagined Y/N's mouth in place of his fingers. She would be so good for him. Her tongue would circle over his tip, collecting the precum that leaked from him before she took him in her mouth. Crowley's other hand felt the wall, searching for something to hold on to, but there was nothing. Eventually, his hand trailed up to his scalp and his fingers carded through his hair. The thought of her on her knees in front of him drove him wild as the sounds she made caused Crowley to pump his hand over his cock faster and faster.

"Y/N," Crowley moaned as quietly as possible so that she wouldn't hear him. Every movement of his hand drew him closer and closer to climax. His breath hitched as soft moans and grunts passed his lips. Crowley was so concentrated on the sensations and images within him that he didn't hear the door open. He didn't hear the sound of her footsteps as she entered the hallway. The only thing that could draw Crowley back to reality was a loud gasp and the sound of her voice.

"Crowley? What the Hell?"