𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥 (Ticci Toby x Male Reader)

❁༻⁸⁸¹²༺❁

"Hello??" I said, waving my hand.

The man seemed to be in some sort of daze, which was a little off-putting but pitiful nonetheless. His bloodshot eye was staring directly into mine. I stepped a little outside, holding the door open.

The man wouldn't budge; instead, he curled up in the corner behind some of the furniture. I sighed and went back inside my house, figuring that the man was either on drugs or flat-out insane. It wasn't a good thought to have, but was I really wrong?

I didn't lock the door, but I pulled open the blinds to see if the mad man would move or not. I sat on the couch, staring out the window, before looking back at my laptop. I opened it and stared at the blinking cursor. Previous frustration started to well up quickly, and I ended up powering the device off.

I stood up and walked over to the door, swinging it open again. I was about to step outside when I saw the man towering over me. My eyes widened greatly, and I stepped back a bit.

The man glanced around the interior of the home and stepped inside, albeit cautiously. I stepped back as he walked in, giving him a little room out of my own unease. The man was much taller than I thought, standing at least 6 feet tall.

I slowly closed the door as the man crept inside. His eyes darted around the area, checking for any traps or tricks. He said something quietly, but it was muffled from behind the mask. I thought about reaching out and taking off the bindings, but decided against it for the time being.

"You must have come a long way for how soaked you are," I mumbled, looking at the man's drenched clothing and hair.

I saw the dark caramel eyes looking at me from behind a layer of hair. My hand itched to reach out and move the hair from the man's eyes, but he didn't want to scare him.

"I'll get you a towel," I said. "Don't move,"

The man nodded slightly as he watched me go down the hallway and open a closet. I pulled out a plush gray towel and brought it back to him. I was about to hand it to him when I realized he couldn't move his arms.

"Oh, right," I said, taking a step back and placing the towel on the coffee table. "Did you want this off?" I asked, gesturing to all the straps that were secured around his torso.

He nodded and mumbled something behind his mask, wiggling his arms under the cloth.

I looked around the maze of buckles to find where to loosen them before stepping behind the man and carefully pulling and unclipping them. When the last buckle was undone, the man rolled his shoulders and pulled his arms free. He tugged the entire straitjacket over his head, letting it land on the ground.

I took an instinctive step back, watching as the man took off the muzzle. My eyes widened at the sight of a gaping hole in the side of his cheek where enough damage was done to expose his molars. I swallowed down my nerves and took the towel from the table, offering it to him once again.

He accepted it with shaky hands, and then I noticed the heavy bandaging on the man's hands and forearms. There were even a few spots where he was missing pieces of his fingers, like where there was just a nub for a pointer finger. This man was in a more rough shape than I thought.

He brought the towel to his face, patting it dry and scrunching the water from his hair. I knew that staring was rude, but I couldn't help it. He looked back at me with his sunken eyes, and I blinked away my thoughts.

"Do you want some new bandages? I think I might have some." I said, rubbing the back of my neck. My eyes trailed back to his, waiting to hear his words. The man held the towel in one hand before feeling the bloody patch on his eye.

"S-sure," The man stammered, his voice a tad scratchy from not talking in forever.

I nodded and went back down the hallway with a little more motivation than last time, grabbing the first-aid kit from the closet. I brought it back to the living area to see the man sitting on the floor with his legs criss-crossed. I probably would've offered to let him sit on the couch, but I didn't want the couch to get ruined by his disheveled clothing.

I put the box of medical supplies on the coffee table before sitting on my knees in front of him. I stared at his face for a little bit, soaking in his appearance. He was tired—maybe even worn out completely. It was a bit sad at first glance.

I opened the container before sorting through the supplies.

"What's your name?" I asked quietly, searching for a conversation starter. I slowly reached out to peel off the patch on his eye.

"Toby..." He said, looking at my hand warily as I took away the bandage. The eye that used to be covered was fogged over, meaning he was most likely a bit blind in that eye. I felt as though my expression softened a bit, but I didn't show any worry.

"Do you have a last name?" I asked, getting an antibacterial wipe and cleaning away any of the blood from the black-and-blue eye.

"I'm just T-Toby..." He assured.

I nodded, tossing the old patch and wipes into a disposable bag.

"My name is Y/N," I said, shifting in my seat to be criss-crossed.

Toby didn't reply; he just kept his eyes on the ground. The rain outside pittered and patterned on the outside roof, filling the silence. 

I gently took off the bandages that were wrapped around the man's skull. It revealed a large patch of blood in his mess of hair. I grimiced slightly at the unappealing sight and started to wipe away the blood and grime.

"Tell me if anything I do hurts," I said, patting away at the crimson on his scalp. I was surprised when Toby didn't flinch a single time when I cleaned away the blood. I thought he must have a high pain tolerance, but I didn't want to ask since we just met.

When the blood was cleaned away, I parted the hair from the scar and put some ointment on it.

"All done," I said, putting the things back in the small case. Then I remembered. "Oh, wait, your hands." I shook my head, reaching out to touch his bandage fingers.

Toby pulled his hands away swiftly, holding them to his chest.

"N-Not my hands," he spoke with a voice devoid of emotion, clenching his hands into tight fists.

My eyes widened, and I pulled back as well.

"Got it; no touching the hands." I said, closing the case of supplies and pushing it away from myself.

Toby pulled his knees to his chest, and then I noticed his lack of shoes.

"You must be freezing," I stated, putting the towel over Toby's shoulders.

"I'm okay," Toby stuttered, his shaky hands toying with the bandages on his hands.

I sat back, leaning against the frame of the couch. I looked at Toby in thought. Did he get into some sort of fight, or did he do this to himself? Then again, who would have put the bandages on him? I tilted my head at Toby, and my eyes drifted over to the muzzle on the ground.

"8812. Is that your number?" I asked in a reluctant tone of voice.

Toby slowly looked at the muzzle behind him, staring at it for a while before his eyes met mine.

"Yes."

(Y'ALL I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ONE. Sorry if the times I've been posting are all out of whack- I've been doing some self improvement lol. Love you all, thx for reading ❤. Vote and comment your thoughts. Hehe.)

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