Supernatural Preferences and Imagines

13 | Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader

Short, but sweet! Enjoy!

*-*

Prince Charming

Squeezing your favorite pillow a little tighter, you watched as the heavy raindrops rolled down the glass window. You had been doing this for the pass hour, occasionally breaking eye contact from the storm to wipe your tears from your tender cheeks. It was a rare thing for you to cry, especially over something as stupid as a teenage boy. However, after spending hours and hours getting ready, only to be stood up by who you thought was your knight and shining armor, you couldn't help but let a few tears lose into your pillow.

It wasn't fair.

This was the first time in your whole messed up life that you actually had the chance to do something normal. To go to prom, dance with a nice boy, and maybe even steal a kiss in the moonlight afterward. But, now that chance was ruined by a broken heart and a horrible rain storm.

Sighing, you turned towards your alarm clock. Midnight. Well, it was official! Your chance of freedom vanished with the ticking of the clock, like some twisted tale of Cinderella, where the princess never gets to the ball because the prince is some low life idjit.

Seriously, he didn't even have the decency to call!

With one last look at the clock, you turn back to the window, huffing as you do. The prom was most likely over by now, leaving you a heaping mess on the window sill. Black mascara streaked down your face, your hair tangled in knots, and your feet swollen from your damn high heels that you insisted on wearing.

"Ugh, I hate boys," you scream, maybe a little too loudly, while flinging your pillow across the room. It makes contact with the opposite wall before bouncing off and falling to the ground.

Happy to able to get some anger out, you pick up a second pillow. You hold it tightly in your hands before throwing it at the wall. It connects again and lays next to the other one. Soon you have a pile of pillows in the far corner of your room made up of all the pillows that previously lied on your bed. You continue feeling a little bit better as each pillow made it's mark on the other side of the room until finally, the pillows weren't enough.

Suddenly, pencils, bookmarks, brushes, makeup, even stuffed animals were being thrown at the wall. Each one increasing in sound with a mixture of a loud bang and frustrated screams. The whole bunker was probably rudely awakened by this point, but honestly, you didn't really care. The only thing that matter tonight was now out of your reach. So, you continued, tossing everything and anything you could get your hands on. Your voice became raspy and rough from your crying, making sure that you would suffer from a sore throat in the morning.

You continued with your temper tantrum, quickly losing track of how many things were now broken and scattered around your room. And it didn't stop, at least not until you felt a pair of strong hands grab your arms gently, preventing the book from leaving your hand and making its mark on your mirror.

"Y/N, stop!"

At the sound of your older brother's voice, you were able to relax a bit. You whimpered, breaking await from his grip, sitting down on your bed as the adrenaline started to wear off. Taking a breath, you threw your head in your hands, letting a few more tears slip out of your puffy, red eyes. Moments later you felt the bed dip from new weight.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, feeling the shame riddle your body.

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry about," Sam replies, now rubbing circles on your back.

"I don't know what came over me," you answer next, glancing around the room. It was now a complete mess, just like your appearance.

"It's okay to be upset, Y/N. Hell, if I ever see that boy again, I'll kill him myself," Sam says, half angrily and half comfortingly.

Shaking your head, you finally gathering enough courage to look at him. What he sees about kills him. He never liked to see his little sister in pain, especially over something that was mostly his fault. Dean didn't exactly like the idea of you attended school, but Sam continuously pushed for the idea whenever he could. He wanted you to be normal, even just for a little bit. To be able to do things like go to football games or attend prom. Only now, after seeing how hurt you were, he wished he never brought up the idea.

"It's not him, Sammy," you continue, looking down from his gaze. "It's just—"

You pause trying to find the right words.

"It's just, I wanted to be normal for once," you whisper, letting another tear escape. Defeated you turned away from him, not willing to talk about the subject anymore.

Sam sighs, turning away from you for a moment. Quickly, his eyes land on the small stereo on your dresser, the only thing that was left untouched. Slowly, he stands to his feet, making his way over to it. He turns it to your favorite radio station, where coincidentally your favorite slow song was playing. Turning it up so that you could hear it, he makes his way back over to your bed.

He holds out his hand, looking down at you with a cheeky grin. "May I have this dance?"

Rolling your eyes, you can't help of smile back. You take his hand, standing to your feet, making sure to smooth out the wrinkles of your dress. He pulls you close, taking the lead, while you playful stand on his feet just like when you were four years old.

"Thank you, Sammy," you whisper into his chest.

"Anything for you, princess," he whispers back.

*-*

A/N

Sorry I haven't updated in a while! Life has gotten so crazy!!