WIP Meme!
I'm technically working on original fic these days, but I felt like doing this meme anyway because I'm in a good mood because (a) otherwise these tidbits might never see the light of day, (b) I would still love to eventually finish them, and (c) calling them WIP instead of abandoned probably improves their prospects. The problem is that with the exception of the first, all of these would be well over 10K if I actually wrote them, so I have a hard time justifying the time it would take away from original fic. /O\ Hopefully if I checked this post a year from now I'd have made progress on at least one of them, though...
Bela/Dean mpreg sequel to "On The Treetop," continuing pretty much right where that one left off:
“Are you…” Pamela hesitated, which Sam could already tell was uncharacteristic for her.
She gave her head a little shake, like she was annoyed with herself, and fixed Dean with a hard look, free of flirtation. “Are you pregnant?”
Dean stiffened. He shared an incredulous look with Sam and then even with Bela, who seemed equally taken aback. It wasn’t that Sam had doubted Bobby’s claims about his friend, but it was one thing to hear about her powers and another to witness them.
Finally, Dean slanted a glance at Bobby. “I thought we agreed not to tell people that.”
Bobby shrugged. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t say a word.”
“Honey,” said Pamela, a little tartly. “I’m psychic.”
“Yeah,” said Dean, and there was enough awe in the word that she softened to a smile again. “Apparently.”
“A pregnant man,” said Pamela slowly, and this time when she looked him over, her gaze stopped squarely on his midsection. Unlike before, the scrutiny made Dean flush, and not in a pleased way.
“I should know better by now than to be surprised by this world,” she continued. “But that is not something you see every day.”
Sam opened his mouth to change the subject, but before he could- “He isn’t a circus freak!”
As one, they all turned to Bela. The thief was glaring at the psychic in a way that set off a phantom twinge in Sam’s shoulder where she’d shot him. Dean stared at her like he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
Pamela looked back at Dean, his face this time. “Of course not.” Her lips curled. “Actually, I was thinking it was kind of…sexy.”
Dean did a double take. Instantly, his focus was back on Pamela. “You think it’s-” He coughed, and drew himself up. His chest seemed to puff out a little. “I mean- of course it’s sexy.”
“Hell yeah!” said Pamela. “If more men did that, I might reconsider motherhood.”
Unsurprisingly, Sam thought, Bela did not look any happier.
Gen/Sam combination RPF/FPF alpha-beta-trying-to-make-it-work fic I started for this year's genteensybang before realizing I just didn't have the time to commit (part of this a/b/o AU):
“Does this dress make my dick stick out?”
When Misha looked up from his comic book, Gen struck a pose, hip cocked, arms akimbo. After a beat she switched hips, straightened, and gave him both profiles.
“No, you’re good,” said Misha. “Where’s it from?”
“Alpha Taylor.”
His eyebrows shot up and gave a little wiggle. "Ooh, someone’s going all out.”
“No, I’m not,” she protested, but feebly. Alpha Taylor didn’t compare to the designer labels Julie wore on her fancy date nights, but it wasn’t Target either, which made up most of Gen’s wardrobe. The money she’d spent probably should have gone to her law school fund, but she’d wanted to wear something new tonight, something special- something feminine and sexy, of the little-black-dress variety, instead of the feminine and girly bell skirts she normally wore. And there was a premium on LBDs that were fitted to be loose in the crotch but snugly form fitting in all the other right places; no one ever said that being a stylish alpha female was cheap.
“Someone plans to get lucky tonight,” Misha sing-songed, still waggling his eyebrows ridiculously.
She felt her cheeks flush but huffed gamely, “I should hope so. Six months.”
S3 Bela/Dean AU in which Dean gets turned into a cat and Bela unwittingly adopts him:
“Dean, it sounds like you could have, you know…Stockholm Syndrome.”
“I did not get any STDS from Bela! Ew, Sam, I was a cat, that’s fucked up-”
“No, that’s not what- Stockholm Syndrome is when a person who has been, uh, kidnapped or imprisoned begins to sympathize with or, uh, emotionally connect to their, um, kidnapper-”
“She didn’t kidnap me! I mean, she did, kinda, I guess, but it wasn’t on purpose-”
“It’s like Beauty and the Beast!”
“Are you calling me a beast?”
“No! No, you’re the Beauty in this scenario.”
“I’m the- I don’t care how long my fur was, I am not a pretty boy!”
“Dean-”
“Wait, are you saying she’s a beast? Because she is definitely not a beast!”
S9 Bela/Dean + Lying Cat AU; I think I posted this bit on Tumblr eons ago, but oh well, because despite having 5,000 words of outlining, it's the only scene remotely put together (except for the ending).
“You seem worse than normal. What’d she take this time?”
He doesn’t raise his head. It takes all his efforts to force out, “Don’t wanna talk about it,” instead of a harsher, “Not your business.”
He can feel her studying him, even though he can’t look at her. “She castrated you, didn’t she. Or emasculated? The whole nine yards?”
Now he’s growling: “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He can feel his face burning. He wants so badly to reach down and- and reassure himself that everything is where it’s supposed to be, but his hands are bound, as always, and he probably shouldn’t do that in front of the kid anyway, even if the little bitch does sound amused.
She moves toward him, stopping a hair’s breadth away from his legs. One step more and she’d be between them; the way his ankles are tied, he can’t even close his damn knees for a semblance of protection.
“She won’t really take them,” says Selina. “I think. It’d be a waste.”
He’s startled into looking up. Her green eyes meet his; they’re twinkling, still amused, but her tone isn’t mean.
“I’m assuming it’s a nice package,” she continues. “You walk and talk like it. Unless you’re compensating for something.”
“I am not com- uh.” His cheeks warm for a different reason. He coughs. “Kid. You’re fourteen.”
Her eyebrows scrunch, amusement disappearing in a scowl. “I’m not fourteen!”
“You just said that the way a fourteen-year-old would.”
Her eyes flash. Before he has time to wonder what she’s going to do, she leans forward and grabs his chin. She’s close enough that he can feel her breath on his face; her thumbnail digs into his bottom lip.
“Do not patronize me, Dean Winchester. I am not fourteen.”
Her eyes glint in a way that makes him wary of her, for the first time in weeks. He swallows.
“Fine,” he manages around the twinge in his lip. She moves her thumb. “You’re not fourteen. Whatever.”
“Contrary to appearances, I’m an adult, and I can do what I like.” Despite her hard tone, she follows up with a beatific smile; a scary beatific smile. “I can prove they’re still there.”
For a second he’s confused, sure he’s misunderstanding, and then, very deliberately, she looks down.
The breath whooshes out of him. He jerks back against the chair, for all the good it does.
Also, this, which would technically be part of a timestamp, so it would really never see the light of day:
[Sam wondering why the hell Bela Talbot showed up at the bunker and, after the Gadreel betrayal, refusing to talk to Dean without Lying Cat in the room]
“Dean, do you like her?“
"No.”
“Lying.”
“Dean."
“Yeah, okay, whatever, I like her, that’s not a crime.”
“Do you like-like her?”
“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”
“Answer the question, Dean!”
“No, I do not like-like her.”
“Lying.”
“Jesus-”
***
When Sam, Dean, and Lying Cat go back into the main room, they find Bela leaning against the table. She straightens immediately, eyes fixed on Sam. “I have no intention of hurting you, your brother, or anyone else in this bunker.” She pauses, giving Lying Cat a deliberate glance before continuing. “And for what it’s worth, my intentions toward your brother are entirely honorable.”
“Lying.”
She shoots Lying Cat a very dirty look. “That is an archaic meaning of the expression, and you know it!” When the Cat just looks at her she huffs. “My only dishonorable intentions toward your brother are in the context of the bedroom. Happy?” She glares at Lying Cat, who, of course, doesn’t answer.
Dean thinks his whole head might actually go up in flames. It’s an odd contrast to the floating, euphoric sensation suddenly threatening to burst his chest.
Sam looks between all three of them, very confused. “Are you asking me if you can stay here, or are you asking if you can sleep with my brother?”
“I’m not asking for your permission to sleep with him. I would like to stay here. But if you’re dead set against it, I’ll take him to a hotel.”
So those are my SPN fics still technically in progress! Plus, I would love to write more of my Gen/Jared dragon RPF and an S3 Bela/Dean accidental!hooker AU, but I haven't really started those anywhere but in my mind...
Bela/Dean mpreg sequel to "On The Treetop," continuing pretty much right where that one left off:
“Are you…” Pamela hesitated, which Sam could already tell was uncharacteristic for her.
She gave her head a little shake, like she was annoyed with herself, and fixed Dean with a hard look, free of flirtation. “Are you pregnant?”
Dean stiffened. He shared an incredulous look with Sam and then even with Bela, who seemed equally taken aback. It wasn’t that Sam had doubted Bobby’s claims about his friend, but it was one thing to hear about her powers and another to witness them.
Finally, Dean slanted a glance at Bobby. “I thought we agreed not to tell people that.”
Bobby shrugged. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t say a word.”
“Honey,” said Pamela, a little tartly. “I’m psychic.”
“Yeah,” said Dean, and there was enough awe in the word that she softened to a smile again. “Apparently.”
“A pregnant man,” said Pamela slowly, and this time when she looked him over, her gaze stopped squarely on his midsection. Unlike before, the scrutiny made Dean flush, and not in a pleased way.
“I should know better by now than to be surprised by this world,” she continued. “But that is not something you see every day.”
Sam opened his mouth to change the subject, but before he could- “He isn’t a circus freak!”
As one, they all turned to Bela. The thief was glaring at the psychic in a way that set off a phantom twinge in Sam’s shoulder where she’d shot him. Dean stared at her like he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
Pamela looked back at Dean, his face this time. “Of course not.” Her lips curled. “Actually, I was thinking it was kind of…sexy.”
Dean did a double take. Instantly, his focus was back on Pamela. “You think it’s-” He coughed, and drew himself up. His chest seemed to puff out a little. “I mean- of course it’s sexy.”
“Hell yeah!” said Pamela. “If more men did that, I might reconsider motherhood.”
Unsurprisingly, Sam thought, Bela did not look any happier.
Gen/Sam combination RPF/FPF alpha-beta-trying-to-make-it-work fic I started for this year's genteensybang before realizing I just didn't have the time to commit (part of this a/b/o AU):
“Does this dress make my dick stick out?”
When Misha looked up from his comic book, Gen struck a pose, hip cocked, arms akimbo. After a beat she switched hips, straightened, and gave him both profiles.
“No, you’re good,” said Misha. “Where’s it from?”
“Alpha Taylor.”
His eyebrows shot up and gave a little wiggle. "Ooh, someone’s going all out.”
“No, I’m not,” she protested, but feebly. Alpha Taylor didn’t compare to the designer labels Julie wore on her fancy date nights, but it wasn’t Target either, which made up most of Gen’s wardrobe. The money she’d spent probably should have gone to her law school fund, but she’d wanted to wear something new tonight, something special- something feminine and sexy, of the little-black-dress variety, instead of the feminine and girly bell skirts she normally wore. And there was a premium on LBDs that were fitted to be loose in the crotch but snugly form fitting in all the other right places; no one ever said that being a stylish alpha female was cheap.
“Someone plans to get lucky tonight,” Misha sing-songed, still waggling his eyebrows ridiculously.
She felt her cheeks flush but huffed gamely, “I should hope so. Six months.”
S3 Bela/Dean AU in which Dean gets turned into a cat and Bela unwittingly adopts him:
“Dean, it sounds like you could have, you know…Stockholm Syndrome.”
“I did not get any STDS from Bela! Ew, Sam, I was a cat, that’s fucked up-”
“No, that’s not what- Stockholm Syndrome is when a person who has been, uh, kidnapped or imprisoned begins to sympathize with or, uh, emotionally connect to their, um, kidnapper-”
“She didn’t kidnap me! I mean, she did, kinda, I guess, but it wasn’t on purpose-”
“It’s like Beauty and the Beast!”
“Are you calling me a beast?”
“No! No, you’re the Beauty in this scenario.”
“I’m the- I don’t care how long my fur was, I am not a pretty boy!”
“Dean-”
“Wait, are you saying she’s a beast? Because she is definitely not a beast!”
S9 Bela/Dean + Lying Cat AU; I think I posted this bit on Tumblr eons ago, but oh well, because despite having 5,000 words of outlining, it's the only scene remotely put together (except for the ending).
“You seem worse than normal. What’d she take this time?”
He doesn’t raise his head. It takes all his efforts to force out, “Don’t wanna talk about it,” instead of a harsher, “Not your business.”
He can feel her studying him, even though he can’t look at her. “She castrated you, didn’t she. Or emasculated? The whole nine yards?”
Now he’s growling: “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He can feel his face burning. He wants so badly to reach down and- and reassure himself that everything is where it’s supposed to be, but his hands are bound, as always, and he probably shouldn’t do that in front of the kid anyway, even if the little bitch does sound amused.
She moves toward him, stopping a hair’s breadth away from his legs. One step more and she’d be between them; the way his ankles are tied, he can’t even close his damn knees for a semblance of protection.
“She won’t really take them,” says Selina. “I think. It’d be a waste.”
He’s startled into looking up. Her green eyes meet his; they’re twinkling, still amused, but her tone isn’t mean.
“I’m assuming it’s a nice package,” she continues. “You walk and talk like it. Unless you’re compensating for something.”
“I am not com- uh.” His cheeks warm for a different reason. He coughs. “Kid. You’re fourteen.”
Her eyebrows scrunch, amusement disappearing in a scowl. “I’m not fourteen!”
“You just said that the way a fourteen-year-old would.”
Her eyes flash. Before he has time to wonder what she’s going to do, she leans forward and grabs his chin. She’s close enough that he can feel her breath on his face; her thumbnail digs into his bottom lip.
“Do not patronize me, Dean Winchester. I am not fourteen.”
Her eyes glint in a way that makes him wary of her, for the first time in weeks. He swallows.
“Fine,” he manages around the twinge in his lip. She moves her thumb. “You’re not fourteen. Whatever.”
“Contrary to appearances, I’m an adult, and I can do what I like.” Despite her hard tone, she follows up with a beatific smile; a scary beatific smile. “I can prove they’re still there.”
For a second he’s confused, sure he’s misunderstanding, and then, very deliberately, she looks down.
The breath whooshes out of him. He jerks back against the chair, for all the good it does.
Also, this, which would technically be part of a timestamp, so it would really never see the light of day:
[Sam wondering why the hell Bela Talbot showed up at the bunker and, after the Gadreel betrayal, refusing to talk to Dean without Lying Cat in the room]
“Dean, do you like her?“
"No.”
“Lying.”
“Dean."
“Yeah, okay, whatever, I like her, that’s not a crime.”
“Do you like-like her?”
“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”
“Answer the question, Dean!”
“No, I do not like-like her.”
“Lying.”
“Jesus-”
***
When Sam, Dean, and Lying Cat go back into the main room, they find Bela leaning against the table. She straightens immediately, eyes fixed on Sam. “I have no intention of hurting you, your brother, or anyone else in this bunker.” She pauses, giving Lying Cat a deliberate glance before continuing. “And for what it’s worth, my intentions toward your brother are entirely honorable.”
“Lying.”
She shoots Lying Cat a very dirty look. “That is an archaic meaning of the expression, and you know it!” When the Cat just looks at her she huffs. “My only dishonorable intentions toward your brother are in the context of the bedroom. Happy?” She glares at Lying Cat, who, of course, doesn’t answer.
Dean thinks his whole head might actually go up in flames. It’s an odd contrast to the floating, euphoric sensation suddenly threatening to burst his chest.
Sam looks between all three of them, very confused. “Are you asking me if you can stay here, or are you asking if you can sleep with my brother?”
“I’m not asking for your permission to sleep with him. I would like to stay here. But if you’re dead set against it, I’ll take him to a hotel.”
So those are my SPN fics still technically in progress! Plus, I would love to write more of my Gen/Jared dragon RPF and an S3 Bela/Dean accidental!hooker AU, but I haven't really started those anywhere but in my mind...