I'd Rather We Talk (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Chapter Three - Talking

The two of you drove on for a few minutes, nearing the city lights. The closer you got to the edge of the city the more you realise that you are actually irritated. Dean's reaction to your rejection was immature, as you finally came to see, and completely uncalled for.

You turn to him and stiffly say, "You know, when I say I want to spend time with you, it doesn't mean I want to have sex with you."

"Who said anything about sex?" he replies, his voice filled with annoyance and agitation.

The tone that he chose to use with you only furthered your irritation with him, and you glare at him, "Sex, making out, same damn thing."

He did not say anything in response to this and kept his eyes on the road, the car gradually speeding up. After a moment, however, he replies, "So what does it mean then?"

Repulsed by his thickness and stupidity, you cross your arms, "Sam would've understood what I meant,” you muttered.

At this Dean angrily raises his voice, "Then go to Sam next time!"

You turn your head sharply. "Okay, what is wrong with you?" you yell back, getting up the nerve to confront him directly.

He made a groan, as if he was getting ready to be nagged at by an elderly woman.

"You're being selfish!" you went on, trying to regain a calmer tone but still be firm enough to get your point across. For the past few weeks, or even months, Dean has been acting differently. On top of going out more often to bars as a way to cope with the hunts, his sex drive had shot through the roof. At first you were caught off guard by his sudden increase of sexual activity with you, but you did not mind too much until it seems as though that was all he wanted to do. It made you feel like a object. Something that he can simply come back to because he knows you would be there in the motel room after hours of drinking.

"When a girl says to a guy she wants to spend time with him she means having conversation. Talking and getting to know each other: bonding!" You fix up the courage to tell him what you actually want from him, something you have never really done before.

Dean smashes down on the brakes and makes the car come to an abrupt stop.

"If that just isn't the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," he said mockingly while rolling his eyes. "You're such a woman."

A deadpan look crosses your face, "Excuse me?" you ask, your tone becoming monotonous. "Are you being sexist?"

He only gave you a look, to which you say, "I don't have a one track mind like you."

"I can say the same thing for you and your constant want to just talk," Dean scoffs, almost laughing at you and only serving to anger you further.

"All you think about is sex!"

"You don't think about it enough!"

You gasp at hearing him say that, "The hell is wrong with you!?"

Your question brought on an uncomfortable silence in the vehicle, as Dean stopped responding and just sat back in his seat. He let out a tired sigh and ran his fingers through his short brown hair, before shrugging.

"Fine," he bitterly muttered. "You want to talk? Let's talk."

After putting the car into park, he readjust himself in his seat and rests his back against the door, one arm resting against the window. He stares at you, waiting for you to say something.

You weren’t sure whether or not he was doing it on purpose, but his glare and body language made you feel uncomfortable. Usually you can never look Dean in the eyes, no matter how angry you are,  but you keep your head up this time around.

"Forget it,” you say in a stern voice. “You don't want to because you don't care, and now you're just patronising me." Sometimes you wonder how and why you two were an item.

"Stop being difficult and just do what you wanted to initially," he chides.

"Not if you're going to be a mocking asshole the entire time," you reply. "Take me back to the hotel."

"We're not going anywhere until we bond. Or whatever you call it," Dean answers, taking the keys out of his ignition and putting them in his pants pocket.

You immediately turn around and reach for the latch to open the door, but after hearing a click you knew that Dean pressed on the security lock and it would be useless to try.

You turn to glare at him, wanting to wipe off that snide smirk that was plastered on him with a slap to the face.

"Ok," you start, still sounding slightly irritated. "...this is going to sound really lame but...how was your day?"

"My day has been fine," Dean replies bluntly, causing the "conversation" that barely started to come to an end.

You give him a deadpan look.

"And how was your day?" Dean asks back, ignoring his girlfriend's facial expression.

"Well," you start, your tone becoming increasingly condescending. "It went by perfectly eventless due to me being stuck in a motel room all day because you felt the need to keep me in there."

He shrugs and keeps his shoulders up as he speaks, "I never would have known that you left. Your fault for not leaving. I didn't lock you in the room."

And he really didn't, yet the thought of leaving and blatantly disobeying a request seemed out of the question to you at the time. Not to mention that he’s always telling you how it was not safe, which only further pressures you to stay inside. And oh, don’t forget the extra precaution of added salt lines by the door which continues to pressure you to stay inside. For him to make such a statement and putting the blame all on you for your own "misery" just did not seem right...

You did not want it to affect you, but for some unknown reason it did.

"Of course," you reply, tired of arguing now at this point. Just tired in general. You want to go back to the motel and just sleep. Not only has this been nothing but disastrous, it only caused you to release negative energy.

You did not say anything after that and turn your attention back to the front window of the car.

"What," you hear Dean say. "Don't want to talk anymore?"

The question stirs the irritation you were trying to resolve in your mind. You felt like hitting him and for a moment you actually raise your hand to do so. But you force yourself to stop and  calm down, though it was becoming increasingly difficult. You manage to do so without physically showing just how much you were struggling with not attacking this man.

"No," you say curtly, your voice straining. "Take me back to the motel."

"But we didn't even get to bond yet," he protests, trying to sound as whiny as possible while using your words against you. He was obviously trying to push your buttons.

"I don't want to..." You say quietly. "I'm tired."

Dean gives you another look, it seems almost concerned. He does not reply to your words but just sits there, as though waiting for you to say more. But you do not.

After what seems like an eternity of silence, Dean takes the keys out of his pocket and turns in his seat to face the steering wheel. Putting the keys into the ignition, he starts the car and changes gears.

Neither of you utter a word for the rest of the way back.