#older winchester sister

[m3ntally-unstable]

Why is it that everytime I search for a certain thing I GET THE OPPOSITE. I SEARCHED FOR ANGST NOT SMUT, I WANT ANGST. I AKSED FOR SMUT NOT FUCKING FLUFF AND SHIT 😡😡😡😡 please update your system tumblr I beg of you

[older-sister-death-match]

QUARTERFINALS - MATCH 2

Propaganda Under The Cut:

GERARD WAY:

prettiest girl in the whole wide world

DEAN WINCHESTER:

i dont even have to explain this one do i

LILITH CLAWTHORNE:

ok she and eda are literally the most precious ever and yeah they are enemies for most of season one but they make up and lilith stops trying to capture her baby sister and instead takes on part of her curse and becomes the most aroace cool aunt historian bad girl of all time

[crocodilenjoyer]

he's our little brother. take care of him.

anne carson - antigone / alec benjamin - if we have each other / dan pearce - single dad laughing: the best of year one / kodaline - brother

[ellieslittleburrow]

What's that you're wearing?

Summary : Sam and Dean aren't too happy with your short little skirt.

Warnings : Just the face-shrinking idea of an older person telling you to wear something longer.

----

Sporting an outfit you've been working on for hours, you walked into the main space of the bunker, collecting your belongings you left earlier on the table before a scoff stops you in your tracks. You look up to find your two brothers, Dean eyeing you up and down and Sam averting his gaze in a remorseful manner.

"What are you wearing?" Dean asks bluntly and you look down at your off shoulder white top and pirate-esque skirt-uh-short short skirt and shoes. "Where do you think you're going with that?"

"What do you mean what am i wearing?" Fake confusion contorts your features before you continue. "I told Sam already about the pirate inspired party i'm going to-"

"Is the ass showing part of the party requirements? Because that's all there is to see, y/n." Dean bitterly sips his beer, ignoring your gaping mouth. He did not just say that to you-

"Um...Dean, that was the cringiest thing anybody's ever said to me in my life." You hold your hand out in front of you, gesturing a "stop" before you roll your eyes over to Sam, who drops his gaze down again.

"Im sorry, honey..." Sam starts, his voice much softer and apologetic than Dean's. "but he's right..." Sam gestures at your skirt. "It's too short, honey. You.'ll be going alone i don't think it-it's the b-"

"He means to say go get changed, kid." Dean sternly adds, leaving no room for argument.

You ignore him, still focusing on Sam.

"But Sammyy-come on, it's nothing-I'm going out partying not to a convent-Plus it took me an hour to put it all together."

As if that last bit of info is going to save your ass.

"Well, the good news is-you're wearing so little it'll only take you a few seconds to remove."

See? You'd chuckle at Dean's remark if it weren't meant only meant to shame you at the moment. So you just huff and head back to your room when Dean nods towards the hall, gesturing for you to go, one last time.

A longer skirt is waiting on your bed, anyway, mocking your efforts. Well, maybe next time.

------

Hello peeps, I hope you guys liked this one! I just wrote it in like-an hour. I'm having such writers anxiety i hope i get the motivation back soon. Peace ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[superlunar-eclipse]

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY

SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.

WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.

CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)

WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words

OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!

"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."

Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.

Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"

Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"

Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."

"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.

Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.

"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.

"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."

Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.

"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."

Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.

"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.

Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.

"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.

She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.

Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."

"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.

The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.

Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.

"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.

She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.

Why did they look so familiar?

Her face paled when she realized who they were.

"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.

"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.

"We need your help," Dean replied simply.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"

Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.

Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.

Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.

He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.

Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.

She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"

Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."

She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.

"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.

Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."

And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.

[jasmines-library]

Hi!! I LOVE UR WRITING SM!! im literally obsessed with ur batfam and supernatural fanfictions!!

So, could u PLS write an older winchester sibling one where they take care of their younger brothers when they were children and how much more difficult john made it fore them and then maybe throw in a scene when theyre all older (like during the show) where the brothers maybe express their appreciation for them??

Thanks in advance!! ❤️

Family First

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Warnings: sort of abuse mentioned, death mentioned.

Word Count: 1.3k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Protect your brothers at all costs. That was what your father always told you. As the eldest, it was your duty to look after them, to teach them and to protect them from the world whilst your father was away. Three years older than Dean and seven years older than Sam, you have a lot of responsibility to look after them. 

Most of your time was spent in some dead-beat motel, where the taps dripped constantly and the wallpaper was either shrouded with mould or peeling off. Sometimes both at the same time. With the loss of your mother and the often absence of your father, you played more of a parental role to your little brothers than anyone else. You were there for birthdays to see the gleam on their faces when they unwrapped the presents you had managed to steal or scrounge together with what little money you had. You were there on christmassed when John, too obsessed with work to care, wasn't. No matter how many times you had to lie to them about where he was, it never got easier. You never got used to seeing the disappointment on their small faces; their eyebrows knitting together and their eyes drooping with sadness. And it never got easier seeing them slowly begin to lose hope in their father. To see them slowly realise that he wasn’t coming home most nights. Slowly, as they grew, they began to see through your excuses for John, becoming wise to his actions. To his neglect. But the worst part was the worry. Worry for John, but also for your brothers. Even as they slept, sprawled out on the motel bed, you would stay on the couch, eyes wide awake as you nursed a mug of lukewarm coffee, eyes flicking between whatever shitty cartoon you had playing on mute, and your sleeping brothers just waiting for something. For one of them to wake up from a nightmare. For something to somehow slip through the doors and windows you had locked firmly shut, and double checked at least three times. The fear of something happening to your brothers gripped you tight like a vice, consuming you completely. A lot of it stemmed from the ‘maternal’ role you played for them. But a lot if it was fear driven into you by your father. 

He was hard on you. That was very clear. John had always been very clear with his discipline. Especially since your mom died. There was one time that something did happen to your brothers whilst on your watch. And the memory scarred you to this day. You had left the motel room for a minute. You had wanted to slip across the hall to the vending machine, and selfishly wanted some peace and quiet away from your brothers for once. But….when you returned your heart practically dropped through your feet. Sam, barely 10 years old, was lying on the bed, Dean not far away and in the two minutes that you had taken your gaze off of your brothers, the Shtriga that your father was out hunting had managed to slip through the window to feed on your youngest brother. Luckily, your father had returned in time to kill the striga and both Sam and Dean were completely fine. But you had hell to pay from your father. To say he scolded you would be putting it lightly. You never took your eyes off of your brothers after that. 

As you all grew older, and your father had deemed Dean old enough to look after Sammy, you began to hunt with your father. The training was rough, and often you came home battered and bruised. But that was just the life of a hunter. Hesitation would be punished. Hesitation could get you or someone killed; shoot first ask questions later. Always. Hunting with your dad gave you a rush. The two of you began to grow a little closer as you spent more time with him. Sure, he was hard on you. But you knew he just wanted you to be safe….. You began to enjoy hunting once you pushed past the initial fear and the butterflies that stirred in your stomach until they made you feel sick. It gave you something to do. It gave you a purpose. It made you feel like you were helping. Saving people. Though the nervousness still lingered when you were away from your brothers. The longer you were away the more the thoughts of something bad happening to them consumed your mind even though you knew they were old enough to handle themselves. You hated to admit it…but it sort of hurt that they didn’t need you anymore. 

Overtime, things changed. Dean began to hunt too. Sam drifted apart. Until that fateful night that he left. You still remember the argument. The slamming of doors as he left for Stanford with no plan of when or if he would even return. Dean needed you for the first time in a long time that night. John had stormed off, heading to the local bar to drown his problems with drink. You were sure that if you hadn’t been there, then dean would have been following shortly behind like a dog in tow. A lost puppy following its owner. The two of you sat in silence that night, clinging on to every shred of the comfort you could give each other. To every shattered fragment of your broken family. 

Things fell apart further when your Dad went missing. With Sam gone, Dean and you would often go on hunts together. Sometimes with your father. Often not. And sure, sometimes you would go a little while without seeing each other if the jobs didn’t line up, but this time it had been too long. So you hauled yourself into Baby, who John had gifted to you, and took the long drive to visit Sammy at Stanford. You couldn’t believe how much he had grown since you last saw him. He was taller. That was the first thing you noticed. He even dwarfed Dean who already towered over you himself. And he had changed his hair too. It framed his face more. He was so grown up so different, but even with the time apart the love between you still remained. It was that reason that Sam decided to join you. Broken and grieving his girlfriend, once again Sammy needed you. And you were ready to be there for him. It felt like being a child again; having your brothers relying on you once more. But even with years away from them, the feeling still came naturally. 

The three of you became thick as thieves again after that. Sam stayed. Sam died. Sam came back. Dean died. Dean came back. Over and over again the three of you would be separated. And each time you found your way back to each other. Every time you were there. 

It was a hot day in California when it happened. Dean had been driving Baby, the windows rolled down as your and Sam's voices melded with the music blasting from the stereo. It was one of those days in between hunts where life was just so worth living. Where the Winchesters could just be. You had stopped at a small cafe in the mountains. It was a pretty thing; small and on the roadside by a lake in the mountains. It had a small picnic space that you and Sam resided in as Dean brought over your order. He had insisted in going in himself, even though you had offered countless times to go in for him. 

The glass clinked against the class as he placed the tray down on the table.

“Thank you, Deano.” you smiled softly, taking your order from the tray and savouring the ice cold of your drink as you took a sip. 

Dean sat beside you. “It’s no problem. You’re always doing things for us, you know? Let us do something for you. Even if it is just driving and buying you lunch.”

“Seriously,” Sam added, “You’re always helping us out. Patching us up. Keeping us safe. You’re always there.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“We know.” Sam hummed. “But I guess we’ve never really said thank you.”

“You don’t have to, Sammy. It’s just my job. Someone’s gotta keep you two in line.”

They both chuckle lightly. “Seriously though. Thank you.”

Your heart warmed, a soft, loved smile creeping onto your lips. “Anytime, you call and I’m there. Always.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury @lara20aral

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[sorry-sucker]

[kater-tot66]

new WIP?

I have begun a new fic idea surrounding the adopted daughter of the Winchesters when they retire (Winchesters includes the entire main core people in a post canon fix-it fic because I want Bobby and Crowley to be alive and others too. Winchesters does not mean wincest, fuck off degenerates)

This fic was inspired by the headcanon that Jack would be a great big brother to a little sister, and that they would also be like Dean as a big brother because that is his main example of one.

On a case, the group ends up adopting a baby girl. Sam and Eileen have a daughter a year later. They retire and the group raises their daughters without any involvement of the Supernatural, telling the girls nothing about their past life. The story follows the two daughters as they are high schoolers trying to figure out why certain aspects of their childhood were so...weird. At first, they think it's something to do with a secret government agency, like X-files or S.H.E.I.L.D., but they discover the truth is way more bizarre, terrifying, and supernatural than they ever could have guessed.

[marunene]

Older sister!Winchester, the shortest one (abt 5'7), having to stand on tiptoe to hug her baby brother looksjust right to me (Bowlegged Dean on the background)

[cupidswurld]

siblings that are like… i love the way you hate me (i hate the way that i love you). i never realised how empty silence was without you (i see you in everything when you’re not around). i trust you to put me 6 ft under, but i know you’ll be raising me from the dirt. let me wipe the tears from your eyes that i put there myself. there is no life after you, there is no death. without you, i cease to exist. i’m sorry i mistook violence for love, but it will happen again.

[older-sister-death-match]

ROUND 3A MATCH 4

Propaganda Under The Cut:

DEAN WINCHESTER:

i dont even have to explain this one do i

LILITH CLAWTHORNE:

ok she and eda are literally the most precious ever and yeah they are enemies for most of season one but they make up and lilith stops trying to capture her baby sister and instead takes on part of her curse and becomes the most aroace cool aunt historian bad girl of all time

[cevans-is-classic]

I need a destiel fic with a good brother bond between Sam and Dean too.

[positivewlwvibes]

no nuance take of the day: dean winchester is a butch lesbian older sister who uses he/him pronouns

[superlunar-eclipse]

Girl! I need more FBI Winchester!Sister reader stories! I hope that becomes a series 😩😩

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ COMFORT IN SOLITUDE

SUMMARY: After a tough case, Y/N and Dean retreat to separate motel rooms. Sensing Dean's distress, Y/N finds him at her door, visibly upset. She comforts him, calming him down. Despite their tough lifestyle, Dean finds peace in his big sister, Y/N.

WARNINGS: angst? blood and mentions of alcohol. (lmk if i missed any)

RELATIONSHIPS: dean winchester x Y/N winchester and mentions of sam winchester x Y/N winchester.

WORD COUNT: 878 words

AUTHORS NOTE: thank you for being my first request, i am will now be considering of making this into a series! Y/N is mentioned to had studied human behavior and emotions in college.

MASTERLIST 💫

The case they had worked on tonight had been mentally and physically taxing. A devastating amount of innocent lives had been prematurely extinguished due to the reckless choices of theirs. The weight of responsibility hung heavy upon their shoulders, and the somber mood permeated the car ride back to the motel.

A silent consensus was reached between them; they were simply too drained to embark on the journey back to the bunker. Their bodies were smeared in a morbid mix of their own blood and that of those they had been unable to save. They could hardly muster the energy to clean themselves up before collapsing into the worn leather seats of the Impala.

Upon arrival at the motel, they opted for separate rooms. Normally, if only two beds were available, Y/N would willingly relinquish hers to sleep on the couch while Sam and Dean took the beds. However, this time, Sam had stayed behind to delve into research, and both Dean and Y/N felt a strong desire for solitude.

Y/N dropped her heavy bag onto the threadbare motel carpet and rummaged through it for her night clothes. She trudged to the bathroom, her head hanging low, burdened by the night's events.

She shed her blood-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. She stood motionless, watching as the scarlet stains swirled away down the drain. After changing into fresh clothes, she sank onto the couch, her body heavy with exhaustion. She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, endeavoring to banish the haunting memories of the case from her mind.

In the silence of her room, Y/N became acutely aware that she should go and check on Dean. She knew the case had struck a particularly painful chord with him.

Both Dean and Y/N were alike in their habitual reluctance to open up about their feelings, but their coping mechanisms differed greatly. Dean often sought solace in alcohol, sometimes to the point of passing out, despite Y/N's repeated warnings that it was an unhealthy way to deal with his emotions.

Y/N, on the other hand, preferred to avoid sleep, choosing instead to distract herself with research. She poured over texts about demons, vampires, ghouls, ghosts, shapeshifters and other creatures they might need to hunt in the future.

Having studied human behavior and emotions extensively in college, Y/N was adept at masking her feelings. However, tonight, she decided to reach out to Dean. She opened her motel room door, only to be taken aback by the sight of Dean standing there.

He looked vulnerable, his hands fidgeting nervously and his head hung low. Y/N could tell that he had been crying. She silently ushered him into her room.

They sat on the couch in silence for a few heartbeats before Y/N began to speak. But before she could get a word out, Dean cut her off. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, his body wracked with sobs.

Y/N offered Dean the comfort he needed, setting aside her own feelings for now, holding him close and murmuring soothing words until his breathing slowly returned to normal. She tenderly kissed his forehead and wiped away his tears.

"Goodnight, Dean," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. No matter what horrors they had to face, he could always find solace in his big sister.

As the quiet of the night deepened, Y/N found herself unable to leave the couch. Dean's head rested heavily on her lap, his steady breathing a testament to the exhaustion that had finally claimed him. His slumber was a stark contrast to the turmoil they had endured earlier, and Y/N took solace in the peace that sleep had granted him.

Her hand remained on his back, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers a reassurance that he was still with her, still alive. The comforting warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of her clothes, anchoring her to the present moment. She found an inexplicable comfort in their shared silence, a reprieve from the chaos of their lives.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards the case they had just closed. The faces of the innocent lives lost emerged in her mind, their haunting eyes reflecting the horrors they had been subjected to.

The guilt of not being able to save them all gnawed at her insides. But she knew, as did Dean, that they couldn't save everyone. It was a harsh truth they had learned early in their line of work, yet it hit them anew with each case.

Y/N shook her head, dispelling the morbid thoughts. She needed to focus on the present, on Dean. She allowed herself a soft smile, appreciating the rare moment of tranquility they were granted. Despite the horrors they faced, these quiet moments, where it was just them, were the ones she treasured the most.

As sleep began to creep up on her, Y/N adjusted her position carefully, ensuring not to disturb Dean. She let her eyes close, the comforting rhythm of Dean's breathing lulling her into sleep. With the weight of the day finally catching up to them, they found solace in each other's company, their bond a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

thank you for reading !

[pumpkinrootbeer]

people hate s11 lip but like.

I get it.

[saralilstaremoji]

i think i may have a problem…

kinda already worried about my spotify wrapped💀