Another Fic for my Lovelies!
So, my coworkers were having a "discussion" about their latest obsession with Twilight, and this was the result.
Please R&R!
Title: Twilight Ruined My Life Or Why Dean Ain't Gettin' Any
Author: Kally
Rating: R
Pairing: Have you read the title? Dean/His hand (maybe not, we'll see)
Spoilers: There's literally one line spoiler for *one* scene for New Moon.
Disclaimer: How many times do you want to torture me by making me say it out loud? They aren't mine. Now you made me cry!
Author's Notes: This crack!fic was inspired by a...discussion...my co-workers had about their obsession with Twilight. Its not that I hate Twilight, I've read the books, Rob Pattinson is a hottie, but sometimes...ya know...that and I'm in the mood to make Dean suffer.
Plus -THE BOYS HAVE AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP, DEAN IS NOT ATTEMPTING TO CHEAT - yes it rarely works in our society, but the boys are far from normal and for the purposes of this story, this is their working relationship.
Dedicated to my lovely Sam girls stangerine88 and elise_509
Summary: Ok so admittedly, Sam initially started reading Twilight to get a rise out of Dean, which would lead to ultimate mind-imploding sex. He just didn't expect to get hooked....
"Sam put the book down."
Sam gave Dean a non-commital grunt which he supposed was intended to pass for "Fuck off, I'm reading."
Clearly an issued challenge - that was most definitely brother speak to NOT leave him alone; meaning he would see how long he could poke at him until achieving meltdown or getting Sam to throw the paperback at him in frustration. Either one worked.
Because no brother of his was reading ....*shudder*..... Twilight.....
"Sam, you're 26, you're a guy, and more importantly you're a *Winchester.* Listen to me very carefully, remember when you were six, and I told you if you did certain things, like cry to much, you'd turn into a girl? I wasn't kidding, man, you're cock might fall off!"
Sam didn't even bother to give him his customary eye-roll, or throw one of his lame comebacks (or hell, even throw him the finger), instead they were still glued to the teen-slush gripped tight in his extra large hands.
"All right. I'm your big brother, and that means I have certain responsibilities to you."
*That* finally got a reaction.
Sam looked up with an eyebrow raised, "Dean, we've already talked about this. We're going in as equal partners on this; nothing more, nothing less."
Dean scoffed, "Big brother duties don't expire; especially when it means I have to knock sense back into your ginormous head after you voluntarily fill it with this crap!"
And there was the customary eye roll, but unfortunately Sam returned to his....book....
//You couldn't ask for a better role model than me. So where did I go wrong with you, kid? Ok, I can play dirty...//
"Tell me again what you find so appealing about a 100-and-some year old virginal walking disco ball who doesn't know the first thing about giving head? Unlike me."
Sam was tempted to call Dean on knowing more than he should about the series, but at the moment Victoria was closing in fast on Bella in the La Push lake.
Nope, not getting frustrated, Dean was far from done. He knew this game, and neither side loses.
With an evil smirk, Dean sashayed --- *glare to the author* I look like a character from that crap book to you?! -- *ahem (and an eye roll)* strutted over to the bedside and very slowly crawled to Sam's side.
Sam, with his so-called book, adjusted his position on the bed to accommodate his brother, turned to his side away from Dean, and continued reading.
-the hell?!
Ok, front, back, either side he could make work for him.
Dean playfully let his fingers walk up Sam's hips, flanks, shoulders, down his left arm and quickly snatched the *gag* book from Sam's unfairly (or maybe not so unfairly, he himself was the handsome brother) sexy hands and tossed it over his shoulder. Dean basked in his awesomeness as his perfect pitch landed the book into the garbage bin.
--
"Ow!"
Cold pavement painfully made contact with Dean's rear end as the door to the motel room shut and locked in front of him.
The door opened again a few seconds later, and Dean grinned, eyebrows waggling as he opened his mouth to say, "That's better, what kind of moron are you to ditch this for a cheap novel?" when his coat met his head, and the keys to the Impala landed next to his ass.
Oh this was *so* not right!
--
Podunk bar in a podunk town.
This never registered to Dean and it wasn't about to now, considering tending the bar was one saucy looking red-head in a form-fitting lacy brown tank and leather pants that were painted on. She had a sly smile for Dean, which made him all the happier to set himself down.
"What's your poison, hon?" she drawled, a hint of her Louisiana accent coming through.
"Anything that's gonna kill me faster than draining a can of WD-40."
"Double shot o' Tequila coming up. Now," she said, casually draping herself over the bar as her slightly overweight assistant began fixing his shot, "What in the world would make a fine looking specimen like you want to throw it all away?"
//I really sound like that when I pick up chics?// Dean not-so-subtley examined her rack, and mentally dismissed his thoughts, //We're hot, we pull it off.//
Dean leaned into the bar and eyeing the red-head, giving her his most charming smile (puppy eyes were Sam's forte, and so what if he's really the only one who can work it), "Well, sweetheart, something that passes off as a book killed my afternoon, but my evening still has hope."
"Some book. I'm kinda curious myself what kind of book could make a women go for reading instead of you."
"Teen slush, tired plot of teen girl meets vampire-"
"OMG, Twilight?!"
Dean blinks.
The heavy-set blond assistant, whose frumpy top previously held more of an expression than her face, immediately perked up and squealed, "I love that series!"
Dean concluded that there was no other rational explanation than having wondered into a lesbian bar.
The bar tender's eyes sparkled before cautiously asking, "Team Edward or Jacob?"
"Pfft, oh Edward, no contest!"
Red-head graced her newly found vampy kindred with a smile, "Martha, right?"
"Grace Ann, no 'e' at the end."
"Tabby. Oh god, Graci-"
Dean's ears began to bleed in horror as they proceeded to compare their exes and men in general to Edward. In the space of six minutes, Tabby decided, with much encouragement from Martha Grace, she should call her old boyfriend back, Edmond.
He was out in the parking lot before anyone realized he hadn't paid the tab.
A pretty black girl in a black shirt that read "Screw being a princess, I want to be a vampire" shirt walked past him in the parking lot heading towards the convenient store two doors down.
They're fucking *everywhere*!
--
At this point, he can admit he's beginning to feel Edward's pain, because come on, the guy dealt with a century-old case of blue balls -- and ohmygod I'm starting to identify with a vamp who *chose* to endure blue balls and who the fuck willingly goes through that kind of pain?! -- and now that same foofy-haired blood-sucker was responsible for Dean's blue balls.
He was going back to the motel, and he and Sam were gonna sort this shit out because fuck it, Sam could read twenty thousand words per minute, he had to have been done with the book an hour ago.
Now, *now* Dean could ease the tension in his balls, and they could leave this Twilight crap behind them.
He barged into their motel room - not even questioning why their door was all-of-a-sudden magically unlocked - and stopped dead to see yet another Twilight book in Sam's hands, this one a hell of lot thicker than the last one.
Fuck the Snuggie's bear, Stephanie Meyers was a dead woman walking.
The End for everyone except Dean's case of blue balls.
Please R&R!
Title: Twilight Ruined My Life Or Why Dean Ain't Gettin' Any
Author: Kally
Rating: R
Pairing: Have you read the title? Dean/His hand (maybe not, we'll see)
Spoilers: There's literally one line spoiler for *one* scene for New Moon.
Disclaimer: How many times do you want to torture me by making me say it out loud? They aren't mine. Now you made me cry!
Author's Notes: This crack!fic was inspired by a...discussion...my co-workers had about their obsession with Twilight. Its not that I hate Twilight, I've read the books, Rob Pattinson is a hottie, but sometimes...ya know...that and I'm in the mood to make Dean suffer.
Plus -THE BOYS HAVE AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP, DEAN IS NOT ATTEMPTING TO CHEAT - yes it rarely works in our society, but the boys are far from normal and for the purposes of this story, this is their working relationship.
Dedicated to my lovely Sam girls stangerine88 and elise_509
Summary: Ok so admittedly, Sam initially started reading Twilight to get a rise out of Dean, which would lead to ultimate mind-imploding sex. He just didn't expect to get hooked....
"Sam put the book down."
Sam gave Dean a non-commital grunt which he supposed was intended to pass for "Fuck off, I'm reading."
Clearly an issued challenge - that was most definitely brother speak to NOT leave him alone; meaning he would see how long he could poke at him until achieving meltdown or getting Sam to throw the paperback at him in frustration. Either one worked.
Because no brother of his was reading ....*shudder*..... Twilight.....
"Sam, you're 26, you're a guy, and more importantly you're a *Winchester.* Listen to me very carefully, remember when you were six, and I told you if you did certain things, like cry to much, you'd turn into a girl? I wasn't kidding, man, you're cock might fall off!"
Sam didn't even bother to give him his customary eye-roll, or throw one of his lame comebacks (or hell, even throw him the finger), instead they were still glued to the teen-slush gripped tight in his extra large hands.
"All right. I'm your big brother, and that means I have certain responsibilities to you."
*That* finally got a reaction.
Sam looked up with an eyebrow raised, "Dean, we've already talked about this. We're going in as equal partners on this; nothing more, nothing less."
Dean scoffed, "Big brother duties don't expire; especially when it means I have to knock sense back into your ginormous head after you voluntarily fill it with this crap!"
And there was the customary eye roll, but unfortunately Sam returned to his....book....
//You couldn't ask for a better role model than me. So where did I go wrong with you, kid? Ok, I can play dirty...//
"Tell me again what you find so appealing about a 100-and-some year old virginal walking disco ball who doesn't know the first thing about giving head? Unlike me."
Sam was tempted to call Dean on knowing more than he should about the series, but at the moment Victoria was closing in fast on Bella in the La Push lake.
Nope, not getting frustrated, Dean was far from done. He knew this game, and neither side loses.
With an evil smirk, Dean sashayed --- *glare to the author* I look like a character from that crap book to you?! -- *ahem (and an eye roll)* strutted over to the bedside and very slowly crawled to Sam's side.
Sam, with his so-called book, adjusted his position on the bed to accommodate his brother, turned to his side away from Dean, and continued reading.
-the hell?!
Ok, front, back, either side he could make work for him.
Dean playfully let his fingers walk up Sam's hips, flanks, shoulders, down his left arm and quickly snatched the *gag* book from Sam's unfairly (or maybe not so unfairly, he himself was the handsome brother) sexy hands and tossed it over his shoulder. Dean basked in his awesomeness as his perfect pitch landed the book into the garbage bin.
--
"Ow!"
Cold pavement painfully made contact with Dean's rear end as the door to the motel room shut and locked in front of him.
The door opened again a few seconds later, and Dean grinned, eyebrows waggling as he opened his mouth to say, "That's better, what kind of moron are you to ditch this for a cheap novel?" when his coat met his head, and the keys to the Impala landed next to his ass.
Oh this was *so* not right!
--
Podunk bar in a podunk town.
This never registered to Dean and it wasn't about to now, considering tending the bar was one saucy looking red-head in a form-fitting lacy brown tank and leather pants that were painted on. She had a sly smile for Dean, which made him all the happier to set himself down.
"What's your poison, hon?" she drawled, a hint of her Louisiana accent coming through.
"Anything that's gonna kill me faster than draining a can of WD-40."
"Double shot o' Tequila coming up. Now," she said, casually draping herself over the bar as her slightly overweight assistant began fixing his shot, "What in the world would make a fine looking specimen like you want to throw it all away?"
//I really sound like that when I pick up chics?// Dean not-so-subtley examined her rack, and mentally dismissed his thoughts, //We're hot, we pull it off.//
Dean leaned into the bar and eyeing the red-head, giving her his most charming smile (puppy eyes were Sam's forte, and so what if he's really the only one who can work it), "Well, sweetheart, something that passes off as a book killed my afternoon, but my evening still has hope."
"Some book. I'm kinda curious myself what kind of book could make a women go for reading instead of you."
"Teen slush, tired plot of teen girl meets vampire-"
"OMG, Twilight?!"
Dean blinks.
The heavy-set blond assistant, whose frumpy top previously held more of an expression than her face, immediately perked up and squealed, "I love that series!"
Dean concluded that there was no other rational explanation than having wondered into a lesbian bar.
The bar tender's eyes sparkled before cautiously asking, "Team Edward or Jacob?"
"Pfft, oh Edward, no contest!"
Red-head graced her newly found vampy kindred with a smile, "Martha, right?"
"Grace Ann, no 'e' at the end."
"Tabby. Oh god, Graci-"
Dean's ears began to bleed in horror as they proceeded to compare their exes and men in general to Edward. In the space of six minutes, Tabby decided, with much encouragement from Martha Grace, she should call her old boyfriend back, Edmond.
He was out in the parking lot before anyone realized he hadn't paid the tab.
A pretty black girl in a black shirt that read "Screw being a princess, I want to be a vampire" shirt walked past him in the parking lot heading towards the convenient store two doors down.
They're fucking *everywhere*!
--
At this point, he can admit he's beginning to feel Edward's pain, because come on, the guy dealt with a century-old case of blue balls -- and ohmygod I'm starting to identify with a vamp who *chose* to endure blue balls and who the fuck willingly goes through that kind of pain?! -- and now that same foofy-haired blood-sucker was responsible for Dean's blue balls.
He was going back to the motel, and he and Sam were gonna sort this shit out because fuck it, Sam could read twenty thousand words per minute, he had to have been done with the book an hour ago.
Now, *now* Dean could ease the tension in his balls, and they could leave this Twilight crap behind them.
He barged into their motel room - not even questioning why their door was all-of-a-sudden magically unlocked - and stopped dead to see yet another Twilight book in Sam's hands, this one a hell of lot thicker than the last one.
Fuck the Snuggie's bear, Stephanie Meyers was a dead woman walking.
The End for everyone except Dean's case of blue balls.