dean winchester and damon salvatore

1:dean winchester

With both of your hands wrapped around the frosty glass, you couldn't help but chuckle as Sam and Dean once again won the pool game, raking in another couple hundred dollars. The college boys had no idea what had hit them, begrudgingly handing the money over. Sam was following Dean's lead, and Dean was portraying a drunk all too well.

"Did you see that Y/N?" He exclaimed as he leaned against the bar, leaning dangerously close to you, and you could smell the distinct aroma of Dean. A mixture of car oil, gunpowder and musk, it was a heady combination that exclaimed he was all male. And he was. If he knew how hard of a time you had keeping your hands off him, well, you don't know what would happen.

"Yeah, how much did you win us this time?" You asked him, winking at the bartender as he filled both yours and Dean's orders. If you couldn't have Dean, then you were going to flirt with the second hottest man here, who happened to be the hunky bartender. And he seemed to be enjoying your attentions. Making sure your cup never stayed empty for long, giving you a basket of fries, on the house. He was a poor substitute for Dean, but, oh well.

"I think we're up to five hundred by now. Those college boys have no idea what hit them." He whispered into your ear, your skin tingling as he placed his hand on your lower back. "If you joined us, I bet we could make it a thousand."

"Nah, I'm good sitting here. Watching you pretend to be drunk is enough for me." You answered him, telling yourself not to act like a lovesick fool at the sideways grin he sent your way.

"Who says I'm acting?" He asked you, holding up his shot and downing it in one gulp.

"Because I didn't think the great Dean Winchester could get drunk anymore." You teased, earning a wink before he walked back to the pool tables, where another game was getting ready to start. With a sigh, you turned back to your drink, wondering why you put yourself through the pain. Your heart already belonged to Dean, even though he had no idea. This game of flirting between the two of you just made you ache for the real thing, and you knew that it would be nothing but a one-night stand for him. And you couldn't stand the idea of that coming between the two of you.

"So, you and that plaid man? You a couple?" The bartender asked, making a big pretense of wiping down the bar in front of you.

"Nah. Just friends." You answered, your gaze back on Dean, who was wiggling his butt encased in tight jeans as he lined up a shot. Almost groaning at the sight of all that firm muscle encased in faded denim, you ordered another shot instead.

Soon, you had had enough alcohol that your tongue was loosened, and you found yourself enjoying your time with the bartender. Turns out his name is Brady, and he's working his way through college. An all around nice guy, that deserved a girl who was interested in more than a one-night stand. But his attention was focused on you, and with Dean probably not even thinking of you that way, you needed something to take your mind off your green-eyed man.

"I think that's enough for you." Brady told you about an hour later, taking the shot glasses and beer bottles away from you, leaning on his elbows as he smiled at you.

"Hey." You muttered, pouting at him, which made him chuckle. Ignoring the pool game still going on, you leaned forward. "So, what's your best pick up line?" You mumbled, your nose only inches from his.

"What?" He asked, ignoring the group of older men who needed refills.

"If I'm going home with you tonight, I want to hear all your best. So, give it to me." You insisted, watching as the smile widened on his face at your boldness.

"I'm not very good with pick up lines." He answered. "Can't we just call it at that, and I'll show you all my best when we get to my place?"

"First, one pick up line. Then sure." You answered, holding up your hand, watching as it waved in your face.

Tossing the rag on the counter, he nibbled on his bottom lip for a minute, before he came up with one. "Can I tie your shoe?" He started, and you drunkenly glanced down to see your shoes weren't in need of being tied. Raising an eyebrow, you waited for the second part. "Because I can't have you fall for anyone else."

"Oh, that's good!" You started to exclaim, before an arm was wrapped around your shoulder, Dean leaning extremely close to you.

"Sorry buddy, but she's not falling for you, or anyone else. She's heading home, where she can sleep this off." Dean literally growled at the bartender, who stepped back, raising his arms up.

"Dude, it was all in fun." He argued, as Dean helped you to your feet, guiding you out of the bar. Not giving much resistance, you leaned into him, earning a sigh.

"Y/N, what am I going to do with you?" He whispered once the two of you were walking towards his Impala.

"Kiss me?" You asked hopefully, watching as his eyes widened. You didn't care, the alcohol was rolling through your system, giving you the courage, or stupidity to finally act on your feelings.

"Y/N, you're drunk. Let's get you home so you can sleep this off." He insisted, opening the door, but you slammed it shut.

"No. I'm finally getting up the courage to tell you how I feel." You exclaimed, poking his chest with your finger. "Now, can I kiss you?"

"Why? You were all ready to go with that bartender. Am I just a substitute?" Dean asked, and even wobbly with alcohol, you could hear the hurt and disappointment in his voice.

"No, he was the substitute. And his line didn't work." You admitted to Dean, who looked confused. "I've already fallen for someone else. I've fallen for you a long time ago Dean."

Without another word, Dean had you pressed against the Impala, his hands wild in your hair as his lips plundered yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you arched into the kiss, amazed that this was finally happening.

With a groan, Dean pulled his lips from yours, and you glanced up at him. "We aren't doing this now. You're drunk. Let's get home, sleep this off, and then we can talk in the morning. And god Y/N. I hope you'll still feel the same way." He muttered, running his hand through his hair.