“hell yeah, girl” 🤙🏼

Taylor, Tay, T | 31 | she/her “Every point in your life, even if it’s tough, is something to cherish and to be happy about.” || FAQ || Masterlist || Buy Me A Coffee || ||Early Access On Patreon||

[impalaimagining]

I'm doing some updates around here. Despite the fact that I have tried to go in and fix them, I've been made aware a few times that the links on my masterlist just don't work for some/most of my stuff, I haven't updated links for quite some time, etc., etc. So I'm going to do my best to fix it and hope tumblr doesn't keep breaking things.

More writing to come soon!

[probuccalfat]

weight is a sensitive topic for many so read on with consideration but it’s not appropriate to call GLP-1s medically induced anorexia. while there are people (countless celebrities) using them to further eating disorders or body dysmorphia they likely had prior, they are a legitimate medication for type 2 diabetics and it’s kind of crazy to call a medication that helps them a medically induced eating disorder. it’s also fucking fine if fat people want to lose weight just like it’s fine if fat people don’t want to lose weight—it’s all fine. weight loss can be a complex medical challenge for people and these medications can help work past metabolic issues, psychological behaviours like a lot of compulsive behaviours, and allow for lifestyle change. you can discuss celebrities misusing GLP-1s without creating shame and stigma around the medication as a whole

[probuccalfat]

GLP-1s are not largely being used by skinny people to get skinnier—they are being used by type 2 diabetics and people who have a medical barrier to weight loss. it is really irresponsible and unfair to stigmatize a drug that is effective and often administered responsibly just because some wealthy elites have access to the option of abusing it.

[impalaimagining]

Awake

Sam Winchester x Reader

329 words

Warnings: implied smut

You’re beat. Tired. Exhausted. Completely unable to hold your eyes open as you sit on the couch and binge Love On The Spectrum. An empty beer bottle dances on the tips of your fingers, flirting with the idea of shattering to the floor. Your snores fall softly on his ears as you snuggle deeper into the curve of his left side. Sam shifts carefully and drapes his arm around your shoulders. 

“Mm, Sammy.” You mutter and twist your fingers into the fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Hmm?” Sam hums, his eyes closed as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your hair. You don’t respond with words, just mumble unintelligibly and cling to him.

He reaches over with his right hand, takes the bottle from your barely-there grasp, sets it on the end table beside him. His arm retracts, and he tilts your head up with his index finger under your chin. Your eyes flutter, but don’t open. Sam dips his head down and hovers his lips right above yours, close enough that you can feel his breath drift over your lips.

“Bed.” He exhales, and he’s just so close to you, when he says the single syllable, his lips brush against your mouth.

Your body reacts on its own, lips parting for his kiss. Sam’s lips fit into yours, his hand dips down from your shoulder, his palm splays across your lower back. You arch into him, melting against his body. Suddenly, your breaths are labored, coming out hard in pants into Sam’s bitey kisses. Your body electrifies as Sam scoops his strong arms under your body. He lifts you, lips locked together, and carries you to his room. Your back hits his mattress, and you’re not sure when he did it, but his shirt is gone. When he hovers over you, you’re completely lost in him, in everything that is Sam.

On the couch, you were so, so tired, but now, you couldn’t even dream of falling asleep.

Forever Tags: @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @beththedemonhunter @blacktithe7 @caswinchester2000 //

@chelseadanielle19 @countrygal17a @danathewitchywoman @deansgirl7695 @deanwanddamons //

@elizzysnow13 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @esoltis280 @essie1876 //

@feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @heartsaved @hillface89 @holyfuckloueh //

@hunterpuff @in-deans-arms @ladylachesis @lilredniki @linki-locks11 //

@mottergirl99 @mrswhozeewhatsis @notyourtypicalrose @plaid-lover-bay25 @riversong-sam //

@sandlee44 @sea040561 @shaelyn102 @smoothdogsgirl @snackles87 //

@soulmates8 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 //

@superromijn @tumblr-tidbits @vicmc624 @valsworldofcreativity @wayward-gypsy //

Sam Tags: @deansgirl215 @fandom-princess-forevermore @lizmalfoywayland @mereka18 @princessofthefandomrealm //

@saxxxology @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

[impalaimagining]

Awake

Sam Winchester x Reader

329 words

Warnings: implied smut

You’re beat. Tired. Exhausted. Completely unable to hold your eyes open as you sit on the couch and binge Love On The Spectrum. An empty beer bottle dances on the tips of your fingers, flirting with the idea of shattering to the floor. Your snores fall softly on his ears as you snuggle deeper into the curve of his left side. Sam shifts carefully and drapes his arm around your shoulders. 

“Mm, Sammy.” You mutter and twist your fingers into the fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Hmm?” Sam hums, his eyes closed as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your hair. You don’t respond with words, just mumble unintelligibly and cling to him.

He reaches over with his right hand, takes the bottle from your barely-there grasp, sets it on the end table beside him. His arm retracts, and he tilts your head up with his index finger under your chin. Your eyes flutter, but don’t open. Sam dips his head down and hovers his lips right above yours, close enough that you can feel his breath drift over your lips.

“Bed.” He exhales, and he’s just so close to you, when he says the single syllable, his lips brush against your mouth.

Your body reacts on its own, lips parting for his kiss. Sam’s lips fit into yours, his hand dips down from your shoulder, his palm splays across your lower back. You arch into him, melting against his body. Suddenly, your breaths are labored, coming out hard in pants into Sam’s bitey kisses. Your body electrifies as Sam scoops his strong arms under your body. He lifts you, lips locked together, and carries you to his room. Your back hits his mattress, and you’re not sure when he did it, but his shirt is gone. When he hovers over you, you’re completely lost in him, in everything that is Sam.

On the couch, you were so, so tired, but now, you couldn’t even dream of falling asleep.

Forever Tags: @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @beththedemonhunter @blacktithe7 @caswinchester2000 //

@chelseadanielle19 @countrygal17a @danathewitchywoman @deansgirl7695 @deanwanddamons //

@elizzysnow13 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @esoltis280 @essie1876 //

@feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @heartsaved @hillface89 @holyfuckloueh //

@hunterpuff @in-deans-arms @ladylachesis @lilredniki @linki-locks11 //

@mottergirl99 @mrswhozeewhatsis @notyourtypicalrose @plaid-lover-bay25 @riversong-sam //

@sandlee44 @sea040561 @shaelyn102 @smoothdogsgirl @snackles87 //

@soulmates8 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 //

@superromijn @tumblr-tidbits @vicmc624 @valsworldofcreativity @wayward-gypsy //

Sam Tags: @deansgirl215 @fandom-princess-forevermore @lizmalfoywayland @mereka18 @princessofthefandomrealm //

@saxxxology @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

[impalaimagining]

Awake

Sam Winchester x Reader

329 words

Warnings: implied smut

You’re beat. Tired. Exhausted. Completely unable to hold your eyes open as you sit on the couch and binge Love On The Spectrum. An empty beer bottle dances on the tips of your fingers, flirting with the idea of shattering to the floor. Your snores fall softly on his ears as you snuggle deeper into the curve of his left side. Sam shifts carefully and drapes his arm around your shoulders. 

“Mm, Sammy.” You mutter and twist your fingers into the fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Hmm?” Sam hums, his eyes closed as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your hair. You don’t respond with words, just mumble unintelligibly and cling to him.

He reaches over with his right hand, takes the bottle from your barely-there grasp, sets it on the end table beside him. His arm retracts, and he tilts your head up with his index finger under your chin. Your eyes flutter, but don’t open. Sam dips his head down and hovers his lips right above yours, close enough that you can feel his breath drift over your lips.

“Bed.” He exhales, and he’s just so close to you, when he says the single syllable, his lips brush against your mouth.

Your body reacts on its own, lips parting for his kiss. Sam’s lips fit into yours, his hand dips down from your shoulder, his palm splays across your lower back. You arch into him, melting against his body. Suddenly, your breaths are labored, coming out hard in pants into Sam’s bitey kisses. Your body electrifies as Sam scoops his strong arms under your body. He lifts you, lips locked together, and carries you to his room. Your back hits his mattress, and you’re not sure when he did it, but his shirt is gone. When he hovers over you, you’re completely lost in him, in everything that is Sam.

On the couch, you were so, so tired, but now, you couldn’t even dream of falling asleep.

Forever Tags: @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @beththedemonhunter @blacktithe7 @caswinchester2000 //

@chelseadanielle19 @countrygal17a @danathewitchywoman @deansgirl7695 @deanwanddamons //

@elizzysnow13 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @esoltis280 @essie1876 //

@feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @heartsaved @hillface89 @holyfuckloueh //

@hunterpuff @in-deans-arms @ladylachesis @lilredniki @linki-locks11 //

@mottergirl99 @mrswhozeewhatsis @notyourtypicalrose @plaid-lover-bay25 @riversong-sam //

@sandlee44 @sea040561 @shaelyn102 @smoothdogsgirl @snackles87 //

@soulmates8 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 //

@superromijn @tumblr-tidbits @vicmc624 @valsworldofcreativity @wayward-gypsy //

Sam Tags: @deansgirl215 @fandom-princess-forevermore @lizmalfoywayland @mereka18 @princessofthefandomrealm //

@saxxxology @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

[impalaimagining]

Awake

Sam Winchester x Reader

329 words

Warnings: implied smut

Shoutout to @snackles87 for going on a gif hunt for me

You’re beat. Tired. Exhausted. Completely unable to hold your eyes open as you sit on the couch and binge Love On The Spectrum. An empty beer bottle dances on the tips of your fingers, flirting with the idea of shattering to the floor. Your snores fall softly on his ears as you snuggle deeper into the curve of his left side. Sam shifts carefully and drapes his arm around your shoulders. 

“Mm, Sammy.” You mutter and twist your fingers into the fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Hmm?” Sam hums, his eyes closed as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your hair. You don’t respond with words, just mumble unintelligibly and cling to him.

He reaches over with his right hand, takes the bottle from your barely-there grasp, sets it on the end table beside him. His arm retracts, and he tilts your head up with his index finger under your chin. Your eyes flutter, but don’t open. Sam dips his head down and hovers his lips right above yours, close enough that you can feel his breath drift over your lips.

“Bed.” He exhales, and he’s just so close to you, when he says the single syllable, his lips brush against your mouth.

Your body reacts on its own, lips parting for his kiss. Sam’s lips fit into yours, his hand dips down from your shoulder, his palm splays across your lower back. You arch into him, melting against his body. Suddenly, your breaths are labored, coming out hard in pants into Sam’s bitey kisses. Your body electrifies as Sam scoops his strong arms under your body. He lifts you, lips locked together, and carries you to his room. Your back hits his mattress, and you’re not sure when he did it, but his shirt is gone. When he hovers over you, you’re completely lost in him, in everything that is Sam.

On the couch, you were so, so tired, but now, you couldn’t even dream of falling asleep.

Forever Tags: @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @beththedemonhunter @blacktithe7 @caswinchester2000 //

@chelseadanielle19 @countrygal17a @danathewitchywoman @deansgirl7695 @deanwanddamons //

@elizzysnow13 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emoryhemsworth @esoltis280 @essie1876 //

@feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @heartsaved @hillface89 @holyfuckloueh //

@hunterpuff @in-deans-arms @ladylachesis @lilredniki @linki-locks11 //

@mottergirl99 @mrswhozeewhatsis @notyourtypicalrose @plaid-lover-bay25 @riversong-sam //

@sandlee44 @sea040561 @shaelyn102 @smoothdogsgirl @snackles87 //

@soulmates8 @speakinvain @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 //

@superromijn @tumblr-tidbits @vicmc624 @valsworldofcreativity @wayward-gypsy //

Sam Tags: @deansgirl215 @fandom-princess-forevermore @lizmalfoywayland @mereka18 @princessofthefandomrealm //

@saxxxology @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

[impalaimagining]

just finished reading another werewolf romance novel so look away if you see me going back to writing more A/B/O

[crownmemes]

Cold-Hearted Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences for muses with hearts of ice - or, at least, the appearance of one. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"We don't really do empathy, do we?"

"Remorse? Oh, I did away with that a long time ago."

"God, you really care about them, don't you?"

"My compassion for you is inconvenient."

"You've got ice-cold water running through your veins."

"I do not appreciate friendly relationships, but I'm a great admirer of formal ones."

"Do you know what love is? It's a hot bath. What happens to things when you leave them in a bath for too long, hm? They get soft. They fall apart."

"To show you care for something is to show weakness. If you care for something, an enemy can hurt you with it."

"I am aware of the opinion you've formed of me."

"That's a cold way to look at things."

"Feelings get you killed."

"You know that humour is perhaps the least developed aspect of my character."

"Can't you feel anything?"

"You made the right decision. Pleasure leads to pain."

"I'm sorry to deprive you of an emotional fireworks display, but stoicism runs in the family."

"I'm not from a place of sensitivities and emotionalism, but I do know that what you're doing is not helping."

"You don't know how to love."

"There is little of you that can still be called human, isn't there?"

"You know, you're far more ruthless than I could ever be. In fact, I think you're the most dangerous man I've ever met."

"I don't have a heart anymore. I think I lost that years ago."

"There is something seriously wrong with you!"

"They sell us this lie that love's going to save us, but all it does it make us stupid and weak."

"You have a very disconcerting gaze."

"Forgive me if my tone lacks a certain degree of warmth. That's what honesty sounds like."

"What has become of your pity?"

"Christ... Maybe I do have feelings."

"I take it you have never been in love?"

"Are you beginning to appreciate my lack of sympathy?"

[novakstogive]

"Do you realise how messed up that is? How unfair that is?" SUPERNATURAL 14.11 — "Damaged Goods"

[mopeytropey]

the remarkable thing about fandom friends is that even as you get older and you acquire more demanding jobs or you find a partner or expand your family or, for a thousand different reasons, you feel yourself pulled away and you no longer have the luxury of endless, uninterrupted hours to spend writing or creating or chatting online, even still we keep these points of contact and we make time for our happenstance friends brought into our lives by the universe for often really innocuous reasons and we reach out to say ‘hey, I’m thinking of you’ in a hundred, unique iterations whenever we can find a spare minute because the thing that brought us together as friends is never the whole picture and over time we often discover that we actually have loads more in common than this one, singular interest that spanned across cultures and countries and timezones, and I’m just feeling really grateful for these people who have chosen to share parts of their lives and thus enriched my own life with their creativity and experiences and perspectives and it’s all thanks to this odd, little community called fandom for bringing good people together in its countless, unpredictable ways.

[nixscriptum]

[impalaimagining]

Hi. Haven't been on the site for a long time. How are you? I am hoping you might be able to help me. I remember reading a story (not sure if it was on Tumblr or AO3), anyway, the only thing I can remember about the story was that it involved Sam & Dean and a dungeon/torture. I'm not sure, but I think Dean was the one being sexually tortured and Sam doing the torturing. My memory is not all that great (getting older sucks at times!) Please let me know if you recall reading anything similar to that.

Thanks for your help. 😀

Sincerely,

Ann62

Hi! This ask is super old, but I'm finally going through my inbox. I'm so sorry.

I haven't read anything like this, so unfortunately I can't help you find it. But!!! Let me direct you to @spnfanficpond where someone may better be able to help you find what you're looking for :)

[impalaimagining]

hey so I saw Louden Swain last weekend with @torn-and-frayed and @mrswhozeewhatsis <3

[jareds]

Cordell Walker in every episode of Walker (35/69)

[luna-azzurra]

Tension-filled dialogue Prompts <3

[jareds]

Cordell Walker in every episode of Walker (34/69)

[impalaimagining]

Hunted

Sam x Reader

Words: 2,299

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Notes: flashbacks are in italics; written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing based on the picture below.

Beta: @plaid-lover-bay25

Hunting. It always came back to hunting. “The Life.” 

He wanted to get out. He’d wanted to leave all those years ago, when he took off for Stanford, but something always called him back. 

This time, though, he wasn’t the only one doing the hunting. Something was hunting her, and he was hunting that something. He’d go straight back to Hell before he let anything happen to her. She was it for him - not his first since Jess, but she would be his last.

Her door opened, the creaking that would’ve scared anyone else off instead pulled a sigh of relief from her lips. She kicked her shoes off and left them by the door, then bee-lined for her kitchen. Removing her kettle from where it sat clean in the basin of her sink, she filled it from the tap and set the stove to high. 

The whistle filled her ears. Again, a sound that most people find annoying after a few seconds, but she let the screech echo through her home for far longer than necessary, simply for the comfort it brought her. She poured the steaming water into her mug and dunked in her lavender hibiscus tea bag, then covered the bottom of the mug in a layer of honey. 

With her fingers curled around the handle of the mug, she found her way to her bedroom. From her nightstand, she grabbed her book, Embracing Beauty: Serene Spaces For Living. She dreamed one day of having the time, the energy, the knowhow to renovate her house to look like the pages of this book. If she could go back in time, maybe she’d have chosen a career in interior design instead of nursing. Then again, if she never became a nurse, she never would’ve been in the ER that night when they came bursting through the doors.

“Help, please!” His voice boomed through the almost-empty emergency department waiting room.

A tall man, hair cropped short and slightly spiked, carried another, even taller man through the automatic doors. Really and truly carried him, as if the other man was hanging on by a thread and couldn’t support an ounce of his own weight. The nurse at the front desk jumped to attention, throwing open the door to a triage room and ushering them inside.

After getting his name, the nurse called in a team to help get his vitals and check for external traumas. He was riddled with external traumas. A gunshot wound in his right shoulder, a couple of broken ribs covered in harsh purple bruises, a concussion, a broken leg.

“What happened to him?” She - the new nurse, the cute blonde with long, sculpted legs - asked the man in the corner of the room. He was looking not-great himself, but at least he could keep himself upright. They’d handle him later. “Hey!” She clapped her hands in front of his dazed face, his green eyes locked on his brother’s bloodied body. “What happened to him?” 

“C- car accident.” He said, trying to glance around her. 

“He got shot by a car?” She moved her neck and met his eyes with an incredulous stare. “What happened?” She deadpanned before raising her brows. “The truth?”

“He - we got mixed up with the wrong guys. Wrong place, wrong time.” He rushed out, holding her upper arms and scooting her aside so he could keep his eyes on Sam.

“Hey, alright.” She stepped into his line of vision again. “Listen, we’ve got him. He’s in the best place he can be right now, alright? We’ll take care of him. You need to get yourself checked out, and then you can wait in the waiting room, grab yourself something to eat, a bottle of water, and we’ll let you know if and when we get him a room upstairs.” She mirrored his actions, gripping his upper arms and holding him steady. “I’ve got him.” She promised, a vow she didn’t know would seal her fate from that moment forward.

She stayed with him that night in the hospital, voluntarily working a double, just to keep her own eyes on Sam, swearing to his brother that she would keep him updated on a regular schedule, any chance she got. After Sam was transferred to a room in the main wing of the hospital, instead of his bed in the emergency room, she requested to move with him. She followed him through the long halls, sat by his bedside with any downtime she had. Sam stayed in the hospital for six days, and she was with him for nearly all of those days.

She formed a quick, easy friendship with Dean, their conversations happening over paper coffee cups and styrofoam takeout containers packed with diner food. From his place in bed, Sam groaned at the smells lingering in his room, his diet a strict one of bland hospital food and the mud-coffee they brought him with his poor excuse for breakfast every morning.

When she brought Sam the discharge paperwork to sign, a pang of sadness hit her heart.

“Thank you.” Sam stared into her eyes as he handed her the clipboard. “For… everything.” His eyes flicked to Dean and she knew instantly that, despite being part of the team who saved Sam’s life, Sam was more thankful for her being there for his brother, for keeping Dean sane, for giving him a friend.

“Just doing my job.” She gave him a warm smile, tucking the clipboard under her arm and laying her palm on his forearm. “Thanks for being a good patient.” She chuckled. “We don’t get too many of those in the E.D.”

“Hard not to be a good patient when he’s got the best and hottest nurse in the whole damn place.” Dean smirked. 

“Shut up.” She laughed, shaking her head fondly as Sam let out a long groan. “Let’s get you ready to get out of here.” She handed him a bag of clothes - not his own, those were long gone, cut off of him upon his arrival. “Hopefully these fit those long legs of yours.” She laughed, then helped him dress and transferred him to a wheelchair.

“See you around.” Sam smiled up at her from his seat, the smile soft and crinkling small lines into the skin around his eyes.

“Hope so.” She responded softly, her cheeks heating as their eyes remained locked on one another’s.

She smiled at the memory of meeting Sam, of falling for him over the short course of a week, of their first date to the diner Dean had gotten the food from, Sam apparently having a primal need to taste the food he’d been subjected to smelling the entire duration of his hospital stay.

The hot water ran from the faucet into her oversized claw-foot tub. As she sank into the steam, her muscles relaxed and she closed her eyes. Adjusting her position, she grabbed her book and opened it to a page titled “Renovated Serenity.” Before her eyes skimmed even halfway down the page, she heard the familiar sound of the front door creaking open. She smiled, knowing Sam was coming home.

Home.

He didn’t formally live with her, but he slept there most nights, had a key, knew her neighbors, mowed the lawn in the warm months. To anyone on the outside, they certainly appeared to be a couple who lived together. 

She waited for the sound of his socked feet walking up the stairs to meet her in the bathroom, both of them sinking into the tub together, her book and tea long forgotten once her lips found his and her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders.

The footfalls never came, Sam treading more lightly than usual, she thought with a frown. The bathroom door gave a slight creak, but her eyes were trained on the page in front of her. 

“Hey, Sammy.” She said softly, not taking her eyes off the book. Silence followed her greeting. Her brows furrowed and she turned slowly, her mouth opening as a shriek ripped through her lips. She scrambled for her towel, knocking her mug from on top of it. The ceramic piece shattered, the reddish-pink tea within streaming across the floor. 

“Sammy can’t help you now.” His voice cut through her like a knife. 

“Get away from me!” She struggled to keep herself covered with her towel while simultaneously looking for something to use to defend herself.

“Too late for that.” He stalked across the room, eyes flicking to pools of black. A scream came from her again, echoing throughout the room and into the hallway.

“Who - what are you?” Her voice trembled. “What are you doing here?”

His laugh was something sinister like she’d never heard before. “I’m here for you. Turns out that best friend you had in nursing school wasn’t as good a friend as you thought she was. What was her name again? Karie?”

“Karissa…” The name fell from her lips in disbelief. “What does she have to do with this? I haven’t seen her, haven’t talked to her in nearly a decade.”

“Nearly a decade.” He chuckled, a smug smile crossing his features. “Just enough time for her to bargain your soul to get what she wanted.”

“My soul?”

“Your soul.” He hissed with a nod. “And I’m the lucky one they sent to collect it right out from under Sam Winchester’s nose.” He crept closer to her, a knife flipping between his fingers. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he walks in and his precious little nurse is laying on the floor bleeding out.”

Her body trembled, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off of him. Sam taught her better than that. She took a single step closer to the shards of her mug, anything she could use as a weapon. But he caught her, no matter how slight the shift in her movement.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He teased, wagging a finger at her like a scolding school teacher. “It won’t end well.”

“I don’t really think this is going to end well either way.” She retorted, and he laughed.

“I like you. You’ve got spunk. Tenacity. I see why Sam likes you, why Dean is so fond of you.” His grin twisted again into something darker. “Such a shame I have to take you away from them both.” He continued stepping toward her, and just as he came within arm’s reach, a crash sounded from her bedroom. 

“The cat.” She blurted quickly. “That was the cat. I forgot to feed her when I got home.”

“I’ll deal with her later. Unfortunately cats are one of the more soulless creatures on this planet, so she’s of essentially no use to me.” He rambled on, and the crash and his random musings were enough of a distraction for her to grab the largest shard of ceramic from her mug. She tucked it into the towel, folding her arm over herr chest to look like she was keeping the towel tight around herr body.

He took what should’ve been his final step toward her, the knife swinging at her chest, but he missed, hitting her arm instead. Wincing, but somehow suppressing her scream of pain, she darted her other hand out at the same time, catching the sharpest edge of the broken mug on his wrist. With a hiss, he grabbed his bleeding arm and laughed lowly.

“That’ll be high on your regrets list when you’re lying on this floor wishing you would’ve done things differently. Befriending Karissa, saving Sam Winchester, falling in love with him, slicing my vessel with that shoddy mug.” He shook his head. “All things you’ll wish you never would’ve done.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have time before red and yellow light flashed through the demon’s body, like a flame coming from within him. His body went rigid and then crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Behind him, Sam stood, bloodied knife in hand and chest heaving.

“Sam!” She threw herself into his chest. His knife clattered to the tile floor as he cradled her against him. “Oh, God. Sam…”

“I know.” He breathed, one hand splayed on her back while the fingers of his other hand tangled into her hair. “I’m here.”

“Sam?” Dean’s voice came from the hallway, coming closer.

“In here, Dean. She’s alright.” Sam’s relief was palpable, audible in his voice. “We got here in time.”

“Just in time.” Her voice trembled. 

“Hey.” Dean stepped into the room, his eyes immediately finding the wound on her arm. Sam followed Dean’s gaze and panic filled him.

“What happened?” Sam drew back and looked down at her. “Tell me everything.”

She recounted the events to them both, Dean grunting and Sam’s jaw clenching. When she told them about her soul, they both tensed. 

“Someone else sold your soul?” Sam spoke through gritted teeth.

“That’s what he said. Someone from nursing school.” She nodded, body still shaking, now from both her adrenaline crash as well as the chill in the air.

“Sam.” Dean grunted again.

“I know.” Sam closed his eyes and drew his lips into a thin line.

“You know… what?” She looked between them with fearful eyes.

“They won’t stop coming until they have your soul. It’s… theirs now; it belongs to Hell.” Dean explained, and she whimpered, curling into Sam again.

“I didn’t even know that was possible.” Sam whispered harshly. “We have to do something.”

“We will.” Dean nodded, his eyes falling to her, rage boiling in his veins as he swore himself to her, the same way she swore herself to him, to Sam, all those years ago in that hospital room. “We will.”

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