I’VE GOT YOU, HONEY
character(s): Caleb Xia x f!reader (angst 2 comfort)
best friend caleb finds out the reader harms herself
warnings: s3lf harm aftermath, blood and visceral imagery, nudity, swearing
wc: 2.8k
important author’s note: hi loves. just a gentle heads-up - this work includes s3elf harm, which can be a really sensitive and triggering topic. if that's something that affects you, makes you uncomfortable, or brings up hindering feelings, then please, please don’t read any further, yeah? my priority is my readers' emotional safety above all else...
on the other hand, if u find comfort in stories where a character is being taken care of, i hope u find the same kind of comfort and sense of safety like i did while writing it <3
i haven’t seen any fics on this topic in the tumblr lads community, and i always wondered how MC could go through so much crap without picking up any unhealthy coping habits - so this is just my take on that.
again, please, be kind to urself and only continue reading if u're sure u feel okay doing so.
sending kisses to all of you <3
You were getting ready to take your evening shower in your and Caleb’s shared apartment, after his comments about you being a stink for dreading it for the past few days.
You stood in front of the sink mirror, pulling your hair back. One of Caleb’s massive shirts hung lazily from your shoulders as you discarded the thick socks and sweatpants, hissing at the cold sting of the bathroom tiles against your bare feet.
You grasped the hems of the long shirt, twiddling it between your fingers until they brushed lightly against the bandage curled around your upper thigh. You didn’t have to look down on it, to know it was going to hurt like hell taking it off after days of ignoring it, to wash it, to clean it, to rewrap it, to…
You shook your head and looked down on it anyways.
You weren’t proud of it. Of course you weren’t. You hated the puckered flesh hiding under it. The weak resolve and selfishness it screamed back at you. Yelling that it got control over you once again, laughing in your crumpling face.
You held back for so many days. Piled up even more work for yourself, to create any kind of distraction, that would shift your attention from the urge to reach for the sharp edge and calm your nerves. More studying, more errands, more events, more training, more missions... So much occupied your brain until you found yourself wiping thick, unrelenting rivulets of crimson from the outer expanse of your thigh anyways.
You hated yourself for being so weak, so ungrateful, so…. You didn’t even know. Just so tired. So, so tired…
You dragged your palms down your face, rubbing at your eyebrows, digging them into your eyes, before dropping them to your side, flashing your reflection the most convincing brave smile you could muster.
You reached for the edge of the bandage tucked under, teeth abusing your lip as you unwrapped it. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. It’s been a few days too. Yeah. You were alright. All you needed to do was roll it all up, scrub it clean and soon-
You tugged at the end of the bandage again. It wouldn’t budge. Fuck. You moaned out of desperation, looking up at the ceiling, blinking the oncoming tears away. You tugged again. Another stinging sensation shot through the leg. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You ran your fingers over the still-covered flesh, and just as you expected, the bandage was stiff, sticking to the cuts with dried blood. You dropped your face into your hands and the soft music and Caleb’s off-key whistling from across the laundry room wall flowed through the dreadful silence.
After a few more beats, you shook out your palms, jumped up and down a few times, and forced your attention back to the bandage. You pulled with more force this time, biting back a scream when the parched finally parted from the raw.
A quiet whimper escaped your lips; not only fresh blood, but also puss leaked from the open cuts. You pushed the collar of the shirt into your mouth to bite on it, eyes shut and damp with tears and got back to peeling the damn thing off. Just a few more seconds. You could do this. You could handle the pain. You always did. You were fine. Almost halfway there-
“Pip-squeak?”
Your eyes jolted open, head whipping to the bathroom’s door.
Caleb stood there, frozen in place, full laundry basket in hand. Something undecipherable stormed behind the purple of his wide-open eyes, shallow breaths passing between the two of you. You weren’t sure if he was breathing at all.
Immediately, you spat out the collar, attempting to cover the angry cuts that Caleb was staring at in horror. “I-… Caleb, I-“
You’ve never felt so exposed in your life. Your hands were now sticky with the leaks of the cuts and your cheeks with salt – you felt disgusting. You couldn’t stand his silent stare. He was like a statue - not moving, not blinking, but following every shift of your leg.
You weren’t ready to drag your dearest person into this mess of yours. Into the mess you are. Your best friend who never failed to make you smile, the guy who cherished you with every fibre in his body and got angry if you only skipped a meal.
“L- Look, Caleb. It’s…, It’s not what it looks like. Alright..? Yeah? At the last mission, you see, there was-… there was this pesky Wanderer and-“ you babbled, heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the room for anything to cover the droplets travelling down your legs. “Let- Let me just put on my, my pants-“
Your frantic search was halted by firm, steady hands wrapping around your waist and shoulders, pulling you close into the warm softness of his hoodie. He pressed you tight to himself, so tight your excuses only became muffled sounds, and his familiar smell of seasonings and summer sweat enveloped you.
“You’re hurting yourself.”
Panic hit you. You squirmed in his hold, attempting to break free. Your dirty palms pressed right against his sternum, but he wouldn’t let go of you.
“You’ve been doing this for a long time, haven’t you? You’ve been hurting my pip-squeak.”
“Caleb let go. I-“ tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to pull away again. It hurt. Your thigh hurt. Your head hurt. Your heart felt like it was being carved open by the heaviness in his voice. He was shaking. You were the one who hurt his closest friend, you thought. How could you do this to him?
“It’s nothing!” you finally put some space between the two of you. Your voice came out more like a cry than anything convincing.
He stumbled back from the sudden force and swallowed hard. His red-rimmed eyes flicked from your face to the trails of red still seeping out from under the wrap down your leg, then back to you, and back down, where he locked them.
You reached up to cup his cheeks to make him look away and meet your eyes, tarnishing his angelic face with the filthy smudges of harm on your palms. “I’m okay, Caleb. I promise! It’s fine, don’t worry about me, please. Everything’s fine! I don’t need anyone. I just-… I…”
Caleb winced at the last part but brought your hands to his heart, pulling you back into the hug. “It’s not okay, pips,” he whispered into your hair. “You’re not okay.”
“Caleb, I-“ your voice cracked. The tears came in a wave, and you hiccupped into his shoulder. “I just- I just don’t want you to worry. I-“
You didn’t want to be seen like this. So weak. So pathetic. You wanted to hide and never crawl back out. But also… You just wanted to be held… So badly. To be held by him and only feel him around your being for all eternity. Leave your messed up body behind and mould into him. Crawl below his ribcage and hide there in safety from everything and everyone.
“Shhh…” he ran his trembling hand through the tangled strands of your hair and pressed a kiss to your crown. He lowered you both slowly. Sliding down with his back against the bathtub, settling your shivering form in his lap. He cradled you like a newborn chick. “Let me help you. Please.”
The crack in his own voice made you nod without any further protest.
“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?”
“Y- yeah,” you sniffled.
“Let me stay here with you.”
You nodded.
He brushed the stray hair from your sweaty forehead and left lingering of his lips there. Knuckles brushed over your thigh, until they reached the bandage. “May I? I’ll be gentle I promise.”
You cried out when the skin broke free, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
He whispered praises in your hair whenever you needed to take a break, and cut by cut, until you were a filthy, sobbing mess in his arms, he held you. He held you close to him and fought back his own tears while he revealed more and more of the wound.
He held you, cursing himself over and over again - for not noticing sooner, for not being able to handle this the way he thought he could, for falling apart when you needed him calm, for lacking something he couldn't quite place. And beneath it all, buried so far down it twisted his gut, was the unbearable fury - at you, for doing this to yourself. And he hated himself for that too, convinced that if bleeding for you could make the pain go away, he'd open his veins without a second thought.
The bandage was now crumpled by the door with you more curled into your dearest friend on his lap than ever before.
“Caleb, I-“
“You don’t have to explain anything to me right now,” he pressed a kiss to the damp corner of your eye. “Just breathe. I’ve got you, honey.” He rested his chin atop your head, caressing your sensitive leg which had stained his own alongside the rest of his clothes.
The music from the laundry room filled the room again and Caleb’s humming vibrated against your skin. “But let me run you a shower. Let’s get it cleaned up, so it doesn’t get any more infected.”
Before you could protest, Caleb stood up, refusing to let your feet touch the cold ground and sat you back down on the sink. He pulled the hoodie and shirt off over his head and stepped outside of his shorts, tossing them on the pile of the laundry basket, alongside your things he gathered from the floor.
He walked into the shower and set the water going, waiting for a few seconds, adjusting the temperature there and back, until he considered it perfect.
He shook out his wet hair like a dog as he walked to you. “Arms around my neck,” he smiled.
“Wait, are you- are we going to… together?”
“Yes. We’re in this together, pip-squeak,” he replied, “I’m not leaving your side again.”
His tone was playful, but your stomach flipped.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him carry you to the shower. After he set you back down in front of the running stream, he placed a kiss on your shoulder and rested his chin there, curling his huge arms around your waist.
He tugged at the hem of the shirt. “Let me?”
You nodded, lifting your arms up so he could slip the shirt off your body. As he turned around to get some shampoo on his palms, you side-stepped out of your underwear. The warm water ran down your back and eventually reached the side of your thigh. It stung, but not as bad as it usually did in your hot showers.
When you turned back to him, Caleb was already waiting for you with a gentle smile.
“Are you sure you’re alright with doing this for me?“
“There’s nothing I’d be rather doing right now. Promise.”
“It doesn't disgust you?”
Caleb stared at you like you’d just slapped him.
He sighed and began to massage your scalp with the bubbles. “One day, you’ll hopefully see that being with you is like orbiting a star I never thought I’d be worthy of - the most extraordinary and beautiful thing to pull me into its orbit. An entire universe and I’m blessed enough to hold a piece of it." His hand dropped to your waist and its grip hardened. "And I promise to be more careful with it from now on.”
You turned to look up at him with prickling in your eyes for what felt like the 100th time today. You waited… For a flash of that cheeky grin of his, for him to ruffle your hair and flick your forehead, or just blow bubbles in your face like he used to when you took baths together as kids. Anything that would link this moment to the teasing and playful side of your relationship.
But Caleb just stood there, wet hair stuck to his forehead, crimson petal-like spots of your fingertips trailing his jaw, and eyes full of affection so ardent that your knees almost buckled under you.
He immediately reacted to your teary expression by outstretching his arms wide, offering you refuge in his heart again. Of course, you took it.
With your arms locked around his waist and cheek pressed against the cold dogtag, listening to his steady heartbeat, he worked the shampoo through your hair. When he angled the stream to wash it out, he shielded your eyes from it with a hand, careful not to aim it at your leg either.
“Remember how we used to compete in making beards with the bath bubbles when you were small?” he pivoted you so he could untangle the wet strands with a conditioner.
You giggled at the memory. “Yours never lasted long. Not much of a competition.”
“Or maybe you were too much of a headache whenever you lost, so I spared us both.”
“You wouldn’t dare!“ you spun around to smack him on the chest.
Cool tickles popped against your face before you could even flinch. Your nose felt funny, and you only dared to squint at him through the soap.
Caleb’s throaty laughter joined the hum of the water.
“I still have the photos from when I covered you in those from head to toe,” he wiped your nose from the bubbles he just menacingly blew in your face. “You looked like a summer snowman. I always knew I made more impressive ones than Zaynie did,” he flashed his teeth at you and helped you wash out the remaining soap from your eyes whilst you cursed him out.
After he was done with your hair and skin, he crouched down to be on eye level with the wreckage of your thigh. He rested a wide palm on it, inspecting the heated swelling. His brows furrowed and the playful smirk was nowhere to be found.
He applied slight pressure below one of the deeper cuts, which sent a jolt of pain up your leg and a few strands of red and white to trickle out.
“Caleb, you really don’t have to-”
A ghost of a caress made goosebumps rise from your hip up your body. Your eyes shot open and snapped right down to him.
“Oh. Oh~,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, circling the spot where he kissed your hip bone with a finger. “That one shuts you up then.”
He rested his cheek on your hip like it was the most casual thing in the world. You huffed and looked away from him still kneeling there, warmth seeping into your face, neck, and probably all the way down your shoulders.
Long fingers suddenly entangled with yours, guiding them to his hair, which brought your attention back to him.
“I don’t want to say this to you ever again, pips, but this is going to hurt. So hold onto me, okay?”
You scratched his scalp in response and turned your eyes to the ceiling instead, taking a deep breath, before he got to cleaning the cuts.
“You almost made me go bald, woman,” Caleb joked as he stepped out of the shower, smoothing down the bird nest on his head.
He was right though. The whole time he soaped it up, rinsed, and repeated—careful to aim the spray just off the wound—the sting kept making you tug at his hair or press his face into your stomach for grounding. (Well, at least more times than your pride would let you admit.)
He reached for a towel and returned to wrap it tightly around you, turning you into a little cocoon that he then scooped up again and carried back to the sink counter. There, he helped you switch out the damp towel for a soft, fluffy bathrobe.
He rewrapped your leg, once he put ointments and vitamin C on it, and completed your outfit with fuzzy socks and matching panda face masks.
“What do you say we order some ramen? Would you like that?” he asked, leading the gua sha from the apple of your cheek to your temple.
“Mhm,” you hummed, not fully waking up from the relaxed state the face massage put you in.
“I was thinking…”
“Wow, you better hold my hand through this one then.”
He pinched your cheek. That earned him another giggle from you, which made the speck of annoyance vanish instantly. “I was thinking ramen, and a blanket fort in the living room. But the proper one. Mattrasses and all.” He tilted your face to the side and continued following the gua sha steps from the video tutorial he had playing on mute. “Then I’ll take out the old DVD binder we used to love looking through when you were small, and you can pick whichever movie you want.”
“Even Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus?”
“Ab-so-lutely,” he smiled down at you, resting a palm where your neck met the shoulder, swiping his thumb over the skin.
“But you don’t like the polar bear in it...”
“Despise it, actually.”
“But you’d still watch it with me?”
“And be your personal snack dispenser, head and back scratcher and ready-for-duty cuddler, yes.”
You could feel the warmth radiating from him standing there, each of your legs brushing against his sides. All it took was for you to lean forward ever so slightly, for the noses of the pandas to touch.
“You’re my girl, honey, and I want to do whatever my girl does,” he booped your nose. “Happy and safe - that’s all I’ll ever ask my pips to be for me in return.”
