“Winchesters x Short!Reader where they tease her but then they each arm wrestle her and she beats all of them”
Words: 553 (Very short, I know)
A/N: It’s very short and sweet, not my best piece of work, but not my worst. Enjoy!
Your name: submit What is this?
The boys were always making fun of you for being so short,
and frankly you were getting tired of it.
Constantly being called short-stack, smurfy, and small stuff
was really getting old.
All of the teasing, the jokes, the constant mocking, there was no wonder you
were so fed up with it.
So, when Sam and Dean were having a debate about who was the
strongest of the two, you couldn’t help but jump in and try to prove a point.
“I’m obviously stronger.” Dean boasted.
“I’m sorry, but it seems you forgotten that I’m the one
that actually works out at a gym while you’re busy stuffing you face with
pies.” Sam pointed out, giving his brother a smug look. You rolled your
eyes at the both of them.
“Step aside amateurs,” You cut in. “We all
know who the strongest here is, and that’s me.”
They both started laughing at you.
“You?” Sam blurted, finally saying something
through his laugher. “You’re tiny!”
“I may be small but I pack a mean punch.” You
protested, and they started cackling again.
“The only thing mean about you is your
personality.” Dean went on, and you scowled at him.
“Alright hotshot, if you’re so sure about your
masculine strength, then how about you arm wrestle me?” You offered and
folded your arms. “Winner gets bragging rights as the strongest.”
“Y/N, we don’t want to hurt you.” Sam teased, and
you shot him a glare as well.
“I’ll beat you too, Moosey.” You snapped, and he
quirked an eyebrow.
“You’re fiery, Y/N, I’ll give you that. But you’re
being stupid, there’s no way you’ll be able to beat Sam or me.” Dean
pointed out, and you gave him a smug look.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Dean.” You
fired back and he shrugged from his position at the table. You sunk into the
seat across from him, placing you elbow on the hard wooden surface.
“It’s your funeral.” He said, and with that he
rolled up his sleeve and grabbed your hand with his larger one.
“Ok, on the count of three.” Sam refereed.
The moment the number three slipped out of his mouth, you
slammed Dean’s fist onto the table with such a force that the piece of
furniture almost cracked.
Dean let out a cry of surprise as he was defeated.
You turned to Sam, triumph written across your features as
you held up your hand.
“You next, pretty boy.” You jeered, and
immediately he wiped the shock of his face, crushing your small hand with his
“1…” He started.
“2…” You answered, and he hardened his features
before he spat out the final number.
You smashed his hand into the mahogany table so hard that
its surface actually splintered.
“What the hell?!” Sam blurted, and you smirked at
“I won!” You exclaimed. “And you know what
that means? No more making fun of me for being small!”
“Fine.” Dean grumbled. “We won’t. But you’re
paying for the table.”
“Alright fine.” You agreed, and with that you rose
from the table, exiting the room in a few quick strides.
You never would tell the boys how much you had to bribe the
witch with to give you that strength charm.