Cupid's Curse

Part 3 - Mistakes were made 🏹💘

Read the Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2

Cupid's Curse

Part 2 - Love's Arrow 🏹💘

Read the Prologue - Part 1

As You Wish || Part 1

“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high...”

Pairing: Knight!Dean Winchester x Princess!Reader

Summary: You both were bid to obey: for king and country, heart or duty. A familiar story, and a cruel verse. In the turn of one season, you would be wed to serve your royal house, but not to the man who guarded your heart.

AN: Here we go! This is my first time writing a Medieval AU for SPN, so please let me know what you think in the reblogs or comments if it’s your jam. 💛

Requested by the lovely Liane ( @chevroletdean ), this story is partially inspired by my love of The Princess Bride and Lord of the Rings. Read on for some more AU Sam and Dean, along with a few other fun canon character cameos! 💖 (Quote above is from the original novel by William Goldman, The Princess Bride.)

Word Count: 8.5K

Posted on Patreon: Dec. 26, 2025

Tags & Warnings: Royal/Medieval AU, protective Dean, arranged marriage, meet cute (kind of lol), angst, hurt/comfort, green-eyed jealousy

⚔️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: Omens in the Afternoon

You have a very odd habit of singing to the trees.

Here in the courtyard of a vast garden orchard you help cultivate, you are surrounded on all far corners by castle walls. This is your favorite place, or so you’ve told him.

At least here, green hedges form thick curtains, and vines crawl up the brick as if with hands outstretched toward the sun. Life succeeds against the stone. 

You smile, amused when you see the usual furrow of Dean’s brow dipping just a little more in curiosity.

“Why do you always look so dour?” you ask.

Cupid's Curse

Part 1 - A Match Made in Heaven 💘

Read the Prologue

part8

The world knows exactly what he is, toxic masculinity wrapped in stars and stripes. She built her platform on trust but helped a monster disappear. Now she’s being forced to love another one—on camera. If she can love him, so can America.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ / Adult content, explicit language, sexual content, Violence, Misogyny & sexism, toxic masculinity, Verbal abuse, Psychological manipulation.

Ben's POV

She’s asleep in my bed.

That’s the first thing that feels wrong.

And the first thing that feels right.

She’s curled on her side, knees drawn up slightly, hair spread across my pillow like she belongs there. One hand is tucked under her cheek, the other resting against her chest, fingers curled loosely like she finally let go of something that’s been clenched too long.

I don’t sleep.

I sit against the headboard, forearms on my thighs, staring at the dark. The room smells like smoke and sweat and her—something warm, something human. Something I haven’t let myself get close to in a long damn time.

This isn’t supposed to mean anything. She made that clear. Just pleasure. Just escape. A distraction in the middle of the horror she calls a life. I’m not stupid. I hear what she didn’t say.

I’m a drug. A coping mechanism. A way to forget, even for an hour. And that should piss me off. It doesn’t. What pisses me off is how easy it was. How fast she got under my skin. How my chest still feels tight in a way that has nothing to do with anger or adrenaline or the constant buzzing threat under my ribs.

I’ve felt this before. With Crimson Countess.

part7

The world knows exactly what he is, toxic masculinity wrapped in stars and stripes. She built her platform on trust but helped a monster disappear. Now she’s being forced to love another one—on camera. If she can love him, so can America.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ / Adult content, explicit language, sexual content, Violence, Misogyny & sexism, toxic masculinity, Verbal abuse, Psychological manipulation.

Y/N POV

Ben’s eyes followed mine. “Chrissy, can you give us a minute?” he said softly.

The woman—Chrissy—smiled at me sweetly, grabbed her coat, and slipped past me. “Don’t worry, we'll talk later." she said lightly, then left. I exhaled shakily, muttering, “I… I didn’t want to intrude.” Ben’s gaze softened, catching the fear in my face.

He stepped aside. “Come in.” I hesitated, then followed him inside. He poured me a scotch. I didn’t usually drink it, but the warmth was grounding, so I accepted. “Thank you,” I murmured. He leaned back, watching me. "Who was that?” I ask with a soft voice.

"Well… she... eh is a friend,” he said, I roll my eyes, pretending it was nothing. He raised an eyebrow. “Want to tell me why you're here at this hour?” he asked, smirking. I laughed, just a little, skeptical so I changed the subject. “You’re hooking up with older women.” He chuckled, “Sure, whatever you want to think, dol."

part6

The world knows exactly what he is, toxic masculinity wrapped in stars and stripes. She built her platform on trust but helped a monster disappear. Now she’s being forced to love another one—on camera. If she can love him, so can America.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ / Adult content, explicit language, sexual content, Violence, Misogyny & sexism, toxic masculinity, Verbal abuse, Psychological manipulation.

My arms are trembling, lungs on fire, sweat stinging my eyes. The gloves feel heavy, but I keep swinging. Punches fly—left, right, uppercut, hook—just like Ben shouting at me. Only I suck at it.

“Keep your feet planted!” he orders, voice firm. I pivot, almost toppling over, and he catches me, his hands steadying my waist. The pressure of his grip, the strength in his hands—it’s infuriatingly distracting. I glare up at him, panting, but a small laugh escapes me.

“Again. ” he says, stepping back and throwing a few jabs of his own. I mimic him, ducking and weaving, my glove smacking the air just inches from his face. “That’s it! Good! Snap it, feel the energy, let it out!”

We go at it for several minutes, back and forth, laughing, choking on our breath, my gloves hitting his forearms when I overreach, his hands brushing mine when I miss. My stomach is screaming, legs shaking, but the adrenaline, the pure physical exertion, feels electric. I can feel my anger, my frustration, my helplessness—it’s all melting out of me with every punch.

Finally, I stop, chest heaving. “I can’t—I need a break,” I gasp. Ben steps back, breathing somewhat heavily, a triumphant smirk on his face.

He tilts his head, curious. As I grab one glove and slip it off. “I’m done hitting you,” I say, “but I… I want to do something else.”

He frowns. “What exactly are you—”

part1 - part2 - part3 - part4 - part5

The world knows exactly what he is, toxic masculinity wrapped in stars and stripes. She built her platform on trust but helped a monster disappear. Now she’s being forced to love another one—on camera. If she can love him, so can America.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ / Adult content, explicit language, sexual content, Violence, Misogyny & sexism, toxic masculinity, Verbal abuse, Psychological manipulation.

Y/N POV

His words lingered longer than I wanted them to.

Sex helps.

I didn’t know what he meant—didn’t want to know—but life didn’t give me time to sit with it. The days blurred together again. Galas. Panels. Charity nonsense dressed up as heroism. Smiling until my cheeks hurt, nodding until my neck ached. Standing half a step behind Ben like an accessory that came with the suit.

And then—finally—something new.

I met him at a rooftop event that pretended not to be a party. No Vought logos. No forced hashtags. Just heroes, handlers, donors who wanted to feel like they weren’t part of the machine.

His name is Elias Crowe. He isn’t Vought. That’s the first thing I learn—and the thing that hooks me.

Elias manages heroes who refused the system. Small-time supes. Street-level. Disaster response. The ones who pull people out of collapsed buildings instead of walking red carpets. He handles their logistics, their legal messes, their burnouts. No social media. No brand deals. He sells their work, not their faces.

“They want to help,” he tells me, holding a drink he barely touches. “Not be worshipped.”

It’s… intoxicating.

part1 - part2 - part3 - part4

The world knows exactly what he is, toxic masculinity wrapped in stars and stripes. She built her platform on trust but helped a monster disappear. Now she’s being forced to love another one—on camera. If she can love him, so can America.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ / Adult content, explicit language, sexual content, Violence, Misogyny & sexism, toxic masculinity, Verbal abuse, Psychological manipulation.

Soldier Boy POV

The premiere did what it was supposed to do.

Hell, more than that—it worked perfectly. Especially after our little make out session leaked on the Internet.

The headlines stopped sniffing for blood and started writing fairy tales. Mr. Stable. Mr. Reformed. Mr. Finally-Found-Love.

They 'caught' us everywhere: dinners we didn’t eat together, beaches we weren’t on at the same time, candid shots that were anything but. We played it smart. No public fights. No dramatic reconciliations. Just quiet, grown-up, serious.

Apparently that’s what sells longevity.

People stopped asking if it was fake and started asking when we’d get married.

Kids. More kids. How she fit into the whole fucked-up American family portrait. How she got along with Homelander. With John.

I hated every second of it.

Behind the scenes, nothing had changed. We just learned how to avoid each other without making it obvious. Different schedules. Different rooms. Different air. Less yelling, sure—but not because things were better. Because it took less effort to pretend we didn’t exist.

And yet—

I still couldn’t get that night out of my head.

The world knows exactly what he is, toxic masculinity wrapped in stars and stripes. She built her platform on trust but helped a monster disappear. Now she’s being forced to love another one—on camera. If she can love him, so can America.

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

18+ / Adult content, explicit language, sexual content, Violence, Misogyny & sexism, toxic masculinity, Verbal abuse, Psychological manipulation.

Y/N — POV

Ashley is vibrating.

That’s the only word for it. She’s practically bouncing at the head of the conference table, remote in hand, eyes bright in that way that means ratings. The screen behind her is paused on a still from the interview—his hand on my knee, my head tilted just enough to look soft, pliable, safe.

I feel sick. “Okay,” Ashley says, clapping once. “This is—honestly? This is gold.”

She hits play. The clip rolls. Slow motion edits. Romantic music layered in post. A chyron scrolling beneath us: LOVE REDEEMS LEGENDS.

A commentator’s voice gushes about chemistry. About how he “couldn’t keep his hands off her.” About how I’m “clearly shy, new to the spotlight,” and how his touch “grounds” me.

Grounds me. They zoom in on the moment my knee stops bouncing.

“See?” Ashley says, thrilled. “People love that. They’re saying his hand made you feel safe. Secure. That you relaxed the second he touched you.”

I stare at the screen, jaw tight. They replay the kiss on my temple. Me pushing him away—edited to look coy, flustered, charmed.

“A modern fairytale,” Ashley continues. “Grumpy war hero, strong young woman who softens him.” I feel like I’m watching footage of someone else being skinned alive and called lucky for it.

“And,” Ashley adds, like it’s dessert, “the polls are through the roof. Female approval is up twelve points.” Soldier Boy leans back in his chair beside me, smug and silent. I don’t look at him.

“We’re capitalizing,” Ashley says. “Next step: the Homelander movie premiere. You’ll walk the red carpet together.”

This is perfect 💕 🥹

Look at that face 🥹 🥰

Almost - dbf!Dean Winchester (1/3)

Y'all voted for a Dean series, so I wanted to share this as my first fic in 2026! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Message me if you want to be added to the taglist. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean is the best friend of (y/n)'s father, a man she had always admired, a man she had felt herself drawn to ever since she'd been a teenager, a man she knew not much about, certainly nothing about his work. Something Dean should have taken care of before things could go the wrong way.

Warnings: 18+, eventual heavy smut, age gap (reader is legal ofc), dad's best friend Dean, heavy teasing, SPN typical gore

Pairing: dbf!Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

header by my love @theanythingbuthuman

She woke with a groan. (Y/n) didn’t know why she had been ripped from her dream, but her tired eyes fluttered open for a second. Her gaze found her watch, 2:47am. Another groan left her as she rolled onto the other side, set on falling back asleep. But before she could close her eyes the sound of a knock filled the night. 

Her heart instantly began to race, wondering who’d want to speak to her that late at night. She moved slowly, set on not making any noises in case someone she shouldn’t cross paths with was waiting for her outside. The knock could be heard again, and then she saw the familiar frame through the window next to her door.

“Dean?” She ripped open the door, tired eyes set on his blood covered frame. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her gasp from leaving her as she took in the appearance of her father’s best friend. “What happened to you?”

“Can I come in, sweetheart?” She instantly stepped aside, allowing him to step into her dark hallway. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

Echoes of You - Part 6

Read Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5