UnfinishedDuets



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    Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

    Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

    Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

    Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

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    04 Jun 2026

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    The only Winterion fic I’ve ever liked. Brilliant dynamic

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    In all honesty, Dean wasn’t sure why he had that stupid thing in his pocket. He’d picked it up at the end of a hunt, so long ago now that it had found a permanent place in the bottom of his jacket pocket. But now, with a monster breathing down their necks, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to give to Cas... right? It was just for a case. It didn't mean anything. Except, Cas starts wearing it all the time, and now Dean can't stop thinking about it, and suddenly, Dean realizes maybe this is what he's wanted all along. If only Cas knew the significance of one little gold band.

     

    Or

     

    The one where Dean proposes without actually proposing and Cas decides he very much likes wearing Dean's ring.

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    03 Jun 2026

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    “You’re wearing the ring?” Dean murmured, his thumb tracing along the weaving pattern across the band.

    There was a soft rustle, and when Dean dragged his eyes up from the ring to Cas’ face, he could’ve sworn there was a tinge of redness to Cas’ cheeks. But he must’ve been imagining it, right? Just his tired brain playing tricks on him.

    Cas glanced down, and then forced them both to start moving again. “Just… forgot to take it off after the case last week.”

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    “Is it you?”

    Cas doesn’t look like how he looked when he died. Dean remembers the leviathan, the sludgy crawl of black up his veins before he started to dissolve. He looks kind of like that, and the edges of the whites of his eyes are starting to grow dull and dark and sick with it. “I don’t know,” Cas says.


    The Empty has found its worst nightmare yet. When this is over, these memories will engrave themselves along the hollow, waning remains of his grace, and it will be as if these moments exist in perpetuity, wrenched from time’s linearity. They will haunt him as everything haunts him.

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    02 Jun 2026

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    Cas has begged Dean at various times over the years for Dean to just… believe in him. And every single time, it always felt like a betrayal, like Cas thought that something else would always be more important than him or Sam. And it was never simple or anything, but sometimes Dean thinks about the terror he felt when Cas became God and said that if he couldn’t have their love, he’d have their worship. Sometimes Dean thinks about all the fucked up ways that Cas has tried to have Dean, and it was really only after the Empty took him that Dean started thinking that maybe it’s been his own fault the whole time. Cas once begged Dean for his devotion and Dean said no, and Cas turned monstrous with it. And Cas had been way off the rails at the time, but it was Dean who looked at all the fucked up shit Cas had done in a warped attempt to prevent the apocalypse again, and it was Dean who told Cas that the way he loved them was wrong. He loved them too much, maybe, or too selflessly—selflessly enough that it turned around and hurt them all. Cas is a thing made of excess. He’s never known how to turn that love inward

    (Devastating. Melancholy. Very very well written. I kind of want to kill myself)

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    The kicker is, Dean had been trying to live.

    Really live. And not bite out in anger at the fraying of his heart: Cas, gone, Jack, gone—all that was left was him and his brother, and Dean had been trying to live, in spite, in light of that.

    In a world like the unsteady first steps of a child, apprehensive arms and hands cradling the air around them, ready for a slip, excited for a step, Dean had been trying to walk forward, too. Though every step had meant every pain.

    Upon his death, and arrival in heaven, Dean sets out to find the angel. He has to tell him. Cas has to know.

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    01 Jun 2026

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    Ugh

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    Cas’s fingertips held in his own, Dean brings the angel’s hand to his mouth, and presses his lips to Cas’s weathered knuckles.

    It’s just a thank you. It’s just a way of saying thank you.

    Of saying 'thanks, I know that having to do this shit all the time must annoy you, and I know that for some reason you’ve chosen to worry about me and I’m sorry that you have to, and also, I appreciate it.'

    It took Dean years not to resent the help of Cas healing him. But slowly the resentment melts into tolerance, and again into thankfulness. And every time Cas touches Dean to heal him, he starts saying his thanks by repaying in touch. It starts with grazing his lips against Cas's knuckles, squeezing his hands, kissing the soft skin of his wrist.

    It’s a way of saying thanks. And, he guesses, sorry.

    Of saying, 'Sorry for scaring you. I don’t know how me being hurt could scare you like it always seems to. But it always seems to. And that scares me.'

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    01 Jun 2026

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    Oh wow this was great. Touchstarved!Dean + Pining!Cas (basically canon)