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waywardxwords · 7 months

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I Always Have

Summary: Dean reluctantly agrees to visit a haunted house with you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Slight language, small mention of claustrophobia, fluff!

A/N: Day 3 of the #flufftober2023 (@flufftober) prompt challenge! The prompt is: "Wait, you love me?" - "I always have." Side note: if you are on my tag list, I am planning/attempting to post once a day during the month of October. I know that’s a lot of tags and mentions, so if you’d like to be removed you can do so through the Tag List linked in my bio.

Enjoy!

Haunted Houses weren’t really Dean’s thing…well, of course real haunted houses were. But this was different. This wasn’t haunted by real spirits or monsters; mostly just local high school and college students who needed extra money in the fall so they dressed up like ghosts and ghouls.

Dean had always hated the idea of actually visiting a haunted house. “You’re gonna pay money to go into an old building and have idiot kids try to scare you? Seriously? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not just a haunted house, Deanie,” you had egged him on with the nickname he didn’t seem to appreciate. “It’s the pumpkins, and the apple cider, and that fun feeling of experiencing fall and Halloween as a kid.” He had just rolled his eyes. You loved getting under his skin, and as much as you would tell Sam you didn’t know why, you knew (and Sam knew, for that matter).

“Would you two just kiss already?” Sam had teased you from the kitchen of the bunker one night after you had poked and pushed on Dean so hard he had given up and retreated to his bedroom.

“Ew,” you had forced yourself to shudder at the thought. “Don’t make me puke.”

He laughed so hard he tossed his head back as he did it. “Yeah, okay. The tension between you two is about to make me puke, so do me a favor and just keep it outta the main living areas, got it?” He wasn’t able to dodge the sponge you had been washing dishes with as you tossed it right at his head.

So here you stood on this October night in the bunker looking at Dean blankly. You blinked twice.

“You comin’ or not?” He drawled with mock frustration as he pulled his army green jacket over his red and black buffalo plaid flannel. He grabbed the keys off of the counter top and looked at you expectantly.

“You’re taking me to the haunted house?” You still didn’t believe him.

“I was plannin’ on it, but you better hurry the hell up before I change my mind,” he grumbled but couldn’t hide the tug at the corner of his lips as you practically squealed and ran by him to get your jacket.

“Dude,” Sam eyed his brother as soon as you were out of ear shot.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean held up his hand and went to wait for you in the Impala.

“What made you change your mind?” You finally asked as Dean pulled the Impala into a parking spot in the dirt field. There were tons of other cars—this wasn’t just a haunted house, but a haunted trail as well and you could hardly hide your excitement.

“I was tired of hearin’ you bitch and moan,” he shot you a cheesy, over exaggerated smile with his eyes squinted. You rolled your eyes and flung the door open. “Hey, careful with my Baby!” He chirped, his face suddenly morphed into a small scowl.

“I’m not gonna hurt your precious car, Deanie,” you teased as you met him by the front of the Impala. Each step you took almost had a skip to it, and you couldn’t help yourself as you slipped your arm through his and linked it just at his elbow.

You weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you felt like his demeanor softened. The two of you walked like that as your boots crunched against the gravel and dirt. There were quite a few others there and a line had formed. The trail was dark but lit by yellow glowing lanterns strung from trees and solar path lights on the ground.

“Fifteen dollars per person,” there was a teenaged boy at the front of the line with a cash box. Dean’s scowl returned. “Cash only.” He added on at the end.

“Seriously? Fifteen bucks?” He looked at the kid who just pointed to the sign taped to the front of the table he was at. It read in printed font, ‘$15 per adult’. “Great,” Dean fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet.

“I got it, Dean. You brought me here and I know it’s not your thing,” you reached for your cross body bag to fish out the money.

“I got it,” Dean huffed as he retrieved a $20 and a $10 from his leather wallet. “Here.” He handed it to the kid. The kid nodded you both into the event. “What first? Trail or house?”

“Hmm,” you pondered, your excitement had returned. “Let’s do the trail first.” Your eyes wandered for a second and a squeal left your lips again before you could reign it back in as your gaze noticed a booth just ahead.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean mumbled, but there was a slight chuckle tucked behind it.

“Apple cider!” You practically pulled him towards the stand. There was no line, so you were under the lights of the vendor almost immediately. “Two apple ciders, please.” This time, you were sure to pull out your wallet first.

“That’ll be six dollars,” the woman returned with two cups of cider. You handed her the cash and handed a cup to Dean.

“Cheers!” You beamed as you clinked your paper cup against his. You noticed a small eye roll from him, but he obliged and took a sip.

He made a sour face. “Why do you love this stuff?” He rubbed his lips together to get the sweet sticky substance off.

“I think the real question is, how do you not love this kinda stuff,” you threw back at him as you looped your arm back through his and slowly walked towards the trail. “Halloween is so magical, Dean! It’s literally the best time of year. I think they’ve even polled people on that and determined it is actually the majority's favorite time of the year.”

“Yeah, well, they forgot to poll me on that one,” he grumbled. “We fight this stuff every day. Not this stuff, because it’s fake. But the real deal—the kinda stuff that could kill us. How are you not jaded by that?”

You took a moment before you answered. Your feet stopped moving, so Dean’s stopped too. He turned to look at you as your arm fell out of his.

“When I was a kid, my Dad loved Halloween. I swear, his whole mood changed when fall rolled around. He built a wooden casket and rigged it with fishing wire to open when our front door opened. We scared every kid that came to our house. And kids would literally come from all over to get spooked,” the memory brought a smile to your lips. “I didn’t even want to trick-or-treat half the time. I just wanted to be at home with my Dad scaring the local middle schoolers. My Dad could be difficult,” your smile fell for a moment as other memories tried to make their way through—memories that Dean was well versed in at this point in your friendship. “But when Halloween came around? Man, those were the best days.”

Dean was silent as his eyes watched your face. He saw the emotions ebb and flow as you spoke. He nodded once. “Okay, then,” he said simply. “Let’s go get spooked.” This time, he held his arm out for you to link yours through, causing you to smile.

The trail ended up being more hilarious than terrifying. But you and Dean had thoroughly enjoyed watching others jump and yell as they made their way through.

Next up, the haunted house. This was a little bit different than the trail, as the hallways were so tightly constructed, only one person could walk ahead at a time. You shuddered slightly as you waited, but it was enough for Dean to notice.

“Oh, come on,” he teased as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Your face scrunched at him as you gave him a slight nudge. “Not scared,” you emphasized. “Just jumpy…” sounds of other haunted house goers ahead of you erupted from just inside the corridor–it made you excited all over again.

It was your turn to enter the main hallway next. They paused between groups to give everyone the full experience. Dean led the way with you closely behind. The house was even darker than outside, if possible, so it took your eyes a second or two to adjust.

There were fake cobwebs and a strobe light tucked away somewhere that sent flashes of light in the hall. Screams filled your ears, and you weren’t sure if they were from other patrons or if there was an audio playing in the background—probably the latter. Your eyes danced around in sensory overload as you tried to take it all in. As Dean rounded the first corner, you missed the memo that there were holes cut out in the wall, so when the first pair of hands reached out followed by someone growling behind the plywood, you couldn’t help the way your body jumped or the scream that followed.

Dean tossed his head back in laughter and turned briefly to look at you. Your heart beat pretty hard against your chest, but you still reached out to swat at him. He surprised you by catching your wrist with his large palm and carefully pulled your arms so they were around his middle. He held them there, and you realized he was giving you something to hold onto.

“Alright, Kat Harvey,” he referenced your favorite Casper-loving character from the classic ghost movie. “You’re alright.” The hum of his voice vibrated through the layers of clothing on his back. Even though you didn’t feel scared anymore, you couldn’t pull your arms away.

You inched behind Dean throughout the rest of the haunted house, laughter erupted from both of you as teenagers tried to scare you. It was refreshing to see Dean laugh—truly laugh—and it made you smile.

As you exited the house, he released your hands he had clutched against his middle and cleared his throat. “That was…”

“I know, I know,” you rolled your eyes as you shook off the empty feeling you felt without his touch. “It was lame, you can say it.”

He hesitated for a moment as he looked back to the house and then shrugged towards you. “Nah, I was gonna say it was actually kinda fun.” A smile tugged at his lips.

“Oh…” you grinned back. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for bringing me here, Dean.” You tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and turned to head back to the parking lot.

“Where are you going?” He asked. When you turned back, you noticed he hadn’t moved from his spot.

“Uh…back to the car? That was all you had signed up for…heck, you kinda threw me a bone agreeing to do both the trail and the haunted house.”

“Nuh uh,” he shook his head. “I spent thirty bucks to get us in here. There’s a pumpkin carving booth over there. You said ‘pumpkins, apple cider and haunted houses’. We’re doin’ all three, dammit,” he said firmly but followed it up with a smile.

Your eyes beamed at at him and you bit your bottom lip gently before striding back over to him, “God, I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat after the last word and you froze. With widened eyes, you refused to meet his gaze.

There was a long pause that felt much longer than it probably was. But very quietly you heard his voice, “Wait, you love me?”

You paused again, but put on your big girl panties and turned to him slowly. “I always have.”

His eyes watched you closely for a moment, and then he moved to you so smoothly. His lips brushed against yours for a moment before he pulled away, but went in for another.

“I love you, too,” he murmured gently just as your lips parted. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach before he held his arm out for you once more. “Let’s go carve some pumpkins.” He smiled at you, and this time you knew it was different. It was a smile of contentment. Like everything he had needed, had come to fruition in that moment.

“Let’s,” you beamed back at him as you tucked your arm through his. He leaned towards you for one more kiss before you made your way to the pumpkin carving station. While you weren’t sure what this meant or how your life was about to change, it didn’t matter at that moment. You had pumpkins, apple cider, haunted houses and Dean Winchester at your fingertips. And with that, you couldn’t think of a more perfect autumn evening.

Thanks for reading!

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