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Imagine: Sam and Dean teasing you about how short you are.
You groaned as you glared at Sam. You were not that short! He was just freakishly tall dammit! “Are you feeling oppressed, (Y/N)?” Sam asked trying to hide his chuckles.
“Do you think we're... overlooking you?” Dean asked before breaking down into laughter.
“Look, guys,” you said dangerously close to losing your temper. This had been going on for an entire week, and you were about to go nuts, “If you just give me my shoes back, I might not shoot you.”
“Can you aim that high without breaking your neck?” Dean asked.
“Who says I need to aim high?” You ask. With lightening fast reflexes you crouched down, sweeping your leg under Dean's while grabbing Sam by the calf and pulling it out from under him, knocking the both of them off balance and sending them straight to the floor before they even knew what hit them.
You stood back up, dusted yourself off and looked down at your boys, “Now move out of the way. I need to get my shoes back assholes.”