Supernatural Imagines

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Hey! I really love your writing. You're so good. I was wondering if you could do one where the reader cuts herself and doesn't want the boys to find out. But on a hunt she gets seriously injured and the boys have to help her and it requires them to remove her clothing and see the cuts on her wrists sides and legs. And one of the boys tells her they have feeling for her and they are there for her. Fluff? And you don't have to do this if you're too swamped or anything.

Hi. Thank you!

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of self harm.

I would just like to say that I don’t really know a lot about self harm. So if I have in any way romanticised it or portrayed it inaccurately, please tell me. I really don’t want to do that, so if I have, let me know so that I can make sure I don’t do so in the future.

~~~~~

You got dressed for the hunt, making sure to choose clothes with long sleeves. It was a secret of yours, one that you wished you didn’t have but you didn’t dare tell. The Winchesters were protective about the marks made by monsters. Who knew how they’d react if they found out about the marks made by your own hand.

You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t stop. It was the only way you knew how to cope with the pain you felt in your heart. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but it was all you had, and it would have to do.

As you left your room in the bunker, you grabbed your duffel bag off the floor, knowing that this hunt would require you and Sam to stay in a motel for a couple of nights. Dean was staying behind to rest up after the last hunt he’d been on, but had agreed to lend you and Sam the Impala.

—-

It was a fairly basic hunt. The only problem was that it was a Wendigo and, not knowing the area, you might have trouble finding out where it was taking its victims. But when you arrived at the town, you met a couple of locals who were keen to put a stop to the disappearances, and they took you out into the forest to look for the creature.

For several hours, you searched to no avail. And as the sky started to turn dark, Sam suggested that maybe it would be a good idea to turn back now and come back tomorrow. After all, night time was when the Wendigo would be more likely to come out and play, and you knew that it would be practically impossible to defeat it in the dark.

But as the four of you headed off, you stumbled in the growing darkness, and soon enough found that you’d lost your way. “Sam?” you called out, the fear starting to set in. A twig snapped behind you and you spun around, your heart just about pounding through your rib cage.

“Y/N?” his voice replied.

“Oh, thank God,” you breathed, taking a step in the direction his voice had come from. But the closer you got, the larger his shadow appeared to be. Sam was tall, but not that tall, surely. And that was when you remembered that Wendigos could mimic human voices.

You turned to run but the creature came up behind you, tearing into your stomach with its sharp claws to keep you from getting away. You cried out in pain, praying that Sam was near enough to hear you. But as the Wendigo began taking you away, you heard nothing else, and your hope of being rescued anytime soon began to fade.

—-

The cave the Wendigo had taken you to was cold, with lines of moisture running down the walls. It stank of rotting flesh and you kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see the unconscious bodies hanging up around you. The area was only small, and you didn’t dare move for fear of brushing up against one of the mangled bodies or the sharp rocks sticking out from the cave wall.

It had been at least two hours since you been dumped here and tied up, and you had no idea what you would do when the Wendigo finally came back. You knew they liked to keep their victims alive, which meant it would probably go after you first, giving its other victims time to heal.

Very faintly, you thought you could hear footsteps approaching in the distance and your breathing started coming hard and fast. It was coming for you, it must be. But then they started heading back the way they’d come, leaving you confused. And that was when you heard it - the faint sound of shouting, and you could’ve sworn that the passages outside the cavern you were in glowed a tiny bit brighter.

Fire. It had to be fire. And sure enough, Sam and the two locals rushed into the cave minutes later, and set about freeing all of you. “Sam,” you breathed. “You came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he answered, picking you up bridal style to take you from the cave. “Will you guys be alright?” he asked the others. When they nodded, he thanked them for their help and left, laying you carefully in the backseat of the Impala before speeding off towards your motel to stitch up the wound in your stomach.

“You know,” you told him as you arrived back at the room and he carried you inside, “I can fix it up myself. It’s no big deal.” Sam looked at you seriously, eyeing the pallor of your cheeks and the light shaking of your hands.

“Y/N, you aren’t strong enough to do it right now. Let me help you,” he insisted. Eventually you relented, but that was before he told you he’d have to remove your shirt to access the wound.

“What? No!” you panicked. “You can’t do that!”

“Y/N, I’m not going to look at anything,” Sam told you, looking mildly offended that you seemed to trust him so little.

“That’s not what I mean,” you whispered.

“Then what is it?” he asked patiently. You eyed him for a moment, your bottom lip trembling, before slowly inching your shirt up your stomach, revealing many more injuries than Sam had been expecting. After spending such a long time hiding this from him, you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. This cut from the Wendigo was too serious for Sam to ignore, and you knew he wouldn’t give up until he’d stitched it up. So you’d decided to reveal your secret to him, wanting him to find out on your own terms.

“Y/N,” he murmured, taking in the scars with sad eyes. “How…?”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you told him, tears falling silently down your cheeks. He looked up at you fiercely, taking hold of your hand.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. And I’m going to be here for you, and I’ll help you through this,” he promised.

“Why?” This wasn’t Sam’s battle, and you didn’t know why he was so eager to fight.

“Because I love you,” he murmured, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you more than I ever thought was possible. And I wish you could feel that way about yourself.” Your hand covered your mouth in shock, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“You love me?” you asked, hardly daring to believe it could be true.

“I do,” he uttered. “And we’re going to make it through this. I’m going to be by your side the whole time. I promise.”

~~~~~

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