You and Dean were dating.
But that didn't stop you two from still acting like crazy best friends.
Recently, you two had made a bet.
You had bet that Sam would get laid by the flirty waitress.
Dean had bet he wouldn't.
Unfortunately, Dean had won.
The cost had been taking over chores for a week in the bunker.
So, all this week, Dean had given you his chores, plus Sam's.
Today was the last day.
You were still sleeping when you woke up to a thud.
You jumped to your feet, gun aimed.
Dean was standing in shock, a bucket at his feet.
You quickly put the gun down and rubbed your eyes.
"Sorry," you shrugged.
"You know we're safe here in the bunker, right, Y/N?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah," you said, running a hand through your hair.
You pointed to the bucket and raised an eyebrow.
Dean grinned.
"You're going to be washing Baby today," he said.
You sighed.
"Let me get dressed first," you said.
You changed into a pair of old short shorts and bikini top.
You began to walk to the garage.
You bumped into Sam's chest.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Washing Dean's car," you said.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you couldn't get laid," you answered in annoyance before walking away.
"What?" you heard Sam ask himself.
You bent down to place the bucket on the ground next to the Impala.
You quietly washed each tire.
You moved on to the sides in no time.
But you had trouble with the hood, so you had to really bend and stretch to do a good job.
The same went for the trunk.
Little did you know, Dean was watching you.
Sam walked next to him.
"My Baby is washing my Baby," he smirked.
"Why?" Sam asked.
"She made a bet that you could get laid. Obviously, she lost," he said.
Sam groaned.
"I should thank you. Your not getting laid is about to get me laid," Dean said, patting Sam on the shoulder.
You had finished washing Dean's baby and were walking back to your room.
Dean stopped you at the door.
He kissed you harshly, pressing you against the wall.
You felt something hard touching your inner thigh.
You pushed Dean off of you.
"Nice try," you smirked.
"You knew?" he asked.
"Why else would I wear these short shorts? I'm not stupid, you know," you said.
Dean slapped your ass.
"Nope. Not for you," you said, entering your room and locking it behind you.
"Dammit, Y/N!"
