Supernatural Imagines

Jared Padalecki X Reader

You're Jared's Daughter And You Get Bullied
Title- It's Not Your Fault
Warnings- self harm, bullying, anorexia

I just realised this is my first Jared one. Well. Enjoy
...Daddalecki...

"Hey, bitch" the captain of the football team yelled.
You ignored him, rushing past your classmates and into the hall.
You were immediately thrown into a locker.
"So, fat, useless, got any other talents Y/N" one of the prep girls sniggered.
You shook your head.
"Oh come on, I'm sure your good at something else."
You shook your head again.
"I'm sure you'd be good at starving yourself, maybe someone would love you then. Or cutting, that'd be a great hobby for you to take up."
You nodded slowly before she released you, and let you walk down the hall in peace.

Four Months Later
You shook your head as you stepped off the scales. That can't be right. You don't eat. You have to have lost more weight than that.
The numbers 97lbs still stared back at you.
You only lost 35 pounds.
You grabbed at the fat on your sides, pinching at it in disgust. Your stomach grumbled and you looked up into the mirror.
"No" you said to your reflection "you won't eat, you're not aloud. If you eat no one will ever love you."
You threw on your sweater and rushed out the door, bumping into your dad, Jared, who was holding your younger brother.
"Your looking a little twiggy there sweet pea, we'll go get burgers for tea, see if we can't put some meat on your bones.
You were visibly wincing as you escaped out the front door past him, avoiding your mum, who would no doubt insist you eat breakfast.
White bread.
Beef burger.
Bacon.
Cheese.
Mayo.
Lettuce.
Tomato.
Egg.
Pickles.
Onion
How many calories was that?
Oh yeah, to many.
"I'm allergic to calories" you told yourself "no calories for me."
You told yourself this all through the day.

You were in the toilet. Staring at yourself in the mirror, with your shirt lifted up, and your stomach exposed.
"You should lay off the food for a while" one of the preps said from behind you.
"I have" you whispered.
"How much weight have you gained?" The girl teased.
"None" you mumbled.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing."
She escaped out the door, giggling, probably going to tell her friend how fat you were.
"You're not fat" a voice peeped from behind you.
"Yeah I am" you grumbled "no matter how much weight I lose, I'll always be fat."
"Beautiful ain't worth nothing if you're dead."

The bullying had continued through the day, leaving you with bruises and emotional scars. Which you planned on translating onto your skin.
When you got home, you ran straight up to your room, ignoring your parents' requests to speak with you.
You opened your drawer, grabbing out a razor and pulling up your shirt.
F.
A.
T.
You carved the word into your stomach.
"I'm allergic to calories, not calories for me." It had become a sort of motto, encouragement not to break a streak.
You moved onto your wrists, without even thinking it over, and dug craters down them horizontally.

"Cut deeper."

"It's down the road, not across the street."

"Attention seeker."

"You should just slit the fat off your wrists."

"No one would care if you died."

You cut deeper with every insult.
Blood poured down your wrist and before you knew it, you were out cold.

Jared hadn't left the hospital, shooting had been cancelled. No one wanted to rush him, as you laid as white as the sheets. You could feel his stroking the hair from your face, readjusting your blankets.
"Dad" you murmured.
He couldn't hear you.
"Dad" you said slightly louder, but your throat was dry from lack of water.
His head shoot up out of his hands.
"Dad, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."
It was true, you had lost control, the one think you thought you had when cutting.
You never had control.
You knew it was true.
"It's not your fault, sweetheart" Jared whispered "the school called, a girl in your class, she said people were bullying you, is it true."
You nodded.
"You're moving schools, I decided."
You smiled.
"And we'll start clean, once you're out, no more cutting, no more starving, or purging, no more self destruction. You will get better, I promise."

Please read the next chapter...