Dribs and Drabs of One Shots

Dean Winchester - Girl With The Devil's Number

Based off kaz2y5-imagines on tumblr:

Imagine meeting Dean when he's trying to hustle your friends in a game of pool

Warnings: language.

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'Okay, losers, another round on me!' announced Kyle causing the group to raise their arms in cheers.

'Idiots,' I muttered under my breath as I took the final swig from my first, and only, beer of the night. It had been Kyle's idea to 'hit the town', as he so wonderfully put it, to get some quick and easy cash. Of course, everyone knew exactly what he meant; betting.

He and my other two flat mates, Ryan and Chris, had been playing the game since they could enter a bar, and probably a few years before. It started out as a laugh. Kyle and Ryan were playing pool, Kyle naturally beating Ryan's ass, before a cocky biker wanted a go. I swear, he was an actual wrestler. I mean, he was practically the size of one!

When Kyle agreed to playing a game of pool, $30 a ball, I was sure he was screwed. Not only had Kyle never played a game seriously like that before but I knew that if he won, the biker would no doubt wait for him outside until he left, waiting to jump him and take his money back.

Turns out, this was where stereotyping got you. The game was over pretty quickly, meaning that Kyle took home a hell of a lot more cash than we thought we would ever get. The biker shook his hand once it was over, and walked back to his friends without a single look back. We didn't even see them when we left.

After that, Kyle started to get cocky. He said that we should make it a weekly thing. Which is why we were sat in our usual booth in our local bar using Kyle's recent winnings to buy the group another round of drinks.

I had turned down the previous 4 offers from Kyle and the others, knowing that someone would have to make sure that they all got back to the flat safely. Without guests. That had been the rule ever since we got the place. No parties without the groups agreement, everyone has to clean up their own mess and no guests after a long night of drinking. I'm surprised the rule even stuck, knowing what Ryan was like. There had been a few close calls but they just ended up with Ryan going back to the guys place instead of bringing them back.

'So...' drawled Kyle as he placed three pints of beer on the table along with four vodka shots and what looked like a glass of whisky. I gave Kyle an unimpressed look, knowing that he had only got the whisky for me as he knew that I couldn't turn it down. He simply grinned back at me before taking a shot of vodka. 'We've beaten everyone in this damn bar and now I'm bored.' I expected his speech to sound slurred but, he seemed surprisingly sober, unlike Ryan and Chris.

'Why don't we just go home for the night?' I asked as I took a sip from the glass of amber liquid, relishing at its feel down my throat.

Each guy looked at each other before bursting into laughter. 'Come on, mate! You haven't even played a game tonight!' said Ryan as he downed his shot like a man who had never seen water before.

'I'm just not feeling it,' I said, laughing at my own words. I was so feeling it. I wanted to get out there and thrash the guys but, somehow, playing against my flat mates just wasn't competition enough. That and the fact that I would have to deal with their moping for the next two days when I won.

'No offence, darling but we don't want to be like those old people who call it a night at only 11:30!' Kyle laughed.

As if on cue, two men at the bar began to speak loudly. 'Okay, Dean. I think you should go back to the motel. I know, I know, you haven't had a good game of pool but it's getting late for you and I don't think you're in the right condition to be playing anyone.'