Supernatural fluff

Dean x Reader (9)

"Dean, can we talk?" You stood at the doorway of Dean Winchester's bedroom, hands in your pockets and hope in your eyes.
"Oh shit, what did I do?" You smiled and moved into the bedroom, sitting next to your boyfriend on his bed.
"You didn't do anything. I just wanna talk to you about something." He looked up to you with worry, so you took his hand to ease his anxiety.
"I think we should talk about getting our own place. We've been moving around from motel to motel with your brother and I think we should stop, just for a little while."
Dean looked at you with surprise, disgust, disdain.
"Why would we ever consider that?" Dean was abhorred with your idea, and you were prepared for a fight.
"I want to at least try to make sure this relationship survives! Moving around isn't healthy for us! We aren't considering this seriously!" Dean shook his head and stood up.
"I'm getting a beer, do you want anything?"
You stared up at him,  but he wouldn't face you. Hell, you were just staring at his back.
"What?"
"Do you want a beer?" he repeated, more impatient this time.
"God help me," you mumbled, "just get me a whisky on the rocks." God knows you'll need it.
"Sure thing."
You sat on the bed, forming a game plan. You listened to ice clinking into a glass and a cap being popped off of a bottle. Steps echoed down the hallway towards the bedroom again.
"Hey, y/n, this is the last of the whisky, so you'll have to settle for beer afterwards."
You nodded and took the glass from his hand, sipping it a bit.
"So, as I was saying, I think-"
"Where should we go for dinner tonight, y/n?" You shrugged, waving it off.
"I don't care. But I think we need to seriously-"
"I'm thinking Chinese, but I could also swing some burgers."
"Dean, that's fine but we need to talk-"
"Or we could go get some homestyle grub from the diner-"
"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you, Dean!" You stood and stared at him, hating his stupid face with every fiber of your being.
"And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!" Dean stood up and left his bedroom, beer in hand and slamming the door behind him. You sat back down on his bed and swallowed the rest of your whisky in a single go.
God knew you needed another drink after that.

~R