A/N: This is my submission for @katymacsupernatural ‘s Gif Challenge! Yay
Pairings: Dean x reader!sister, Sam x reader!sister
Word Count: 681
Reader Age: Younger than both boys, I imagine
Dean groaned loudly as you trudged through the door of the motel room. It had been a constant, near 24 hour, loop of driving and interviewing and the three of you were beyond exhausted and beyond annoyed with each other. The case you and your brothers were working involved a suspected haunting of a high school, so there had been many ‘witnesses’ at the scene. Barely being able to keep your eyes open, you dropped your duffel by the table, slipped your blazer off, and flopped onto the first bed in sight.
“This is the most comfortable, uncomfortable bed ever,” you mumbled into the blanket, taking your gun out of the waistband of your slacks and tossing it onto the other bed. A heavy thud landed directly to your left and you lifted your head to see your mess of a brother, still in his FBI suit.
“Scoot, shorty!” Dean shouted as he attempted to shove you off the side of the bed. You protested and shoved back at him with no luck.
“Why can’t you and Sammy share a bed for once?” you whined and grabbed a pillow, smacking Dean weakly with it. He yanked it out of your grip and whacked you back before shoving it under his head and closing his eyes.
“This is so unfair,”
you snapped and sat up, crossing your arms over your chest. You turned towards
Sam and pleaded, “Sam, I don’t think I’ve ever had a bed to myself in my entire
life, I just want a good night’s sleep, there’s not even a couch for me in
You knew you sounded childish, but you also knew that it would probably work. Sam sighed and nodded. He shook Dean’s legs to wake him up and received a solid kick to the abdomen.
“Dude!” Sam exclaimed, putting a hand to his stomach. “She’s right, just let her sleep,” he told Dean and sat on the other bed to untie his shoes. When Dean said nothing in return, you maneuvered to stand, giving Dean another shove.
“I’m gunna get ready for bed. I want a bed, Dean!” you yelled and threw your shoe at him, hitting him in the leg. He murmured something incoherent while you closed the door to the bathroom behind you. When you went to brush your teeth, you were greeted by the toothpaste caked almost entirely around the tube and its cap.
“Ew Dean! Come on! Again? Would you quit doing this?” You stormed out of the bathroom, waving the tube around.
Dean, still face-first into the bed, mumbled, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, sis.”
You huffed and unnecessarily slammed the bathroom door shut. Annoyed, you wiped the toothpaste off with a grimace. You heard Sam talking to Dean but couldn’t make out what he said. A few minutes later you reentered the room to see your brothers, both still in their suit-tops, facing each other in a stance you knew all too well.
“Loser gets the floor,” Dean said quickly as he got into rock-paper-scissors formation. Sam squinted his eyes and tilted his head slightly. You watched as Dean played scissors and Sam, rock. Dean swore under his breath and turned away, irritated.
“Night, sucker,” you snickered and dove into your now empty bed, yanking the blankets over your shoulders.
“I hate you both,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a push and you a glare. After a bit more bickering, they both changed into t-shirts. Dean grabbed a pillow and the top blanket off each bed, folding one in half to lie on and covering himself with the other.
“Love ya, De,” you called out, feeling slightly guilty for making your brother sleep on the floor, but not guilty enough to give up your bed.
“Whatever,” he grunted, turning over on his side. You were nearly asleep when your gassy brother let one loose.
“Aww c’mon Dean!” Sam cried out and you buried your face into your pillow, avoiding whatever smells were lingering in the air. Dean chuckled and you heard Sam throw something at him. “You’re frickin’ disgusting!”