Crowley found himself in a little bit of an odd predicament. He'd never hesitated to crawl all over one of his partners until he got what he wanted before, but with you, it was different. A Hunter. Really, he didn't have the best taste in men.

But with you, he liked to take his time. He liked that you actually seemed to love him and not just want him for a warm body or for the money the man whose body he'd commandeered had. But he was nearing a breaking point in his damn near saintly patience, alright?! You hadn't reached for him in two weeks!

He approached you when you were sitting on the sofa watching TV and sat in your lap, petulant.

"...Darling," he muttered, drawing the word out and burying his face in your neck. Gods, this was embarrassing. He felt desperate. Like you didn't love him anymore.