Kai_Glitxh

It’s often said that a healthy amount of curiosity is pivotal in a person’s growth and development. It drives us, helps us to ask questions that end with us learning something new either about ourselves, or the world around us.

You considered yourself to be a curious person, that was exactly how you had ended up living the life you did nowadays. Too many unanswered questions leading to you finding yourself in places you didn’t belong - places that you knew were dangerous, and yet you traversed them anyway.

That, was how you met your boyfriend - Toby.

It had been a late night on the day you met him; the moon hanging high in the sky, stars in full bloom, and a chill to the air that had sent a shiver down your spine. You had gone on a walk, alone, though you knew that you shouldn't, simply because of a lingering feeling you had never been able to shake.

The forest close to your home always gave you an odd sensation in your chest whenever you walked past it. Goosebumps on the back of your neck like you were being watched, an uncanny urge to look over your shoulder, a near certainty that the sound you heart crawling out from between the trees weren't just animals. Any well adjusted person would’ve steered clear, wouldn’t have put themself in possible danger simply for the hope of quelling their curiosities.

You hadn’t been as well adjusted as you thought you were.

A peek through the treeline turned into wading through the thicket - your phone out with the flashlight on to help you navigate. Every noise made you flinch, even just the crack of twigs under your boots, and yet you marched on, though you weren’t even sure what you were looking for. Some… Monster? Some terrifying beast that was the cause for the unsettling aura that surrounded these woods? If anything, you were hoping not to find a single thing, to finally write yourself off as being too paranoid and call it a night.

Of course, that would’ve been too easy though.

The monster in question came to you in the form of a man. A tall, masked, twitching man who stood before you like the barrel of a gun - the goggles he had worn glinting in the light of your flashlight, reflecting it back to you in a way that made him look even less human than he already did.

You remembered how you had opened your mouth to scream, and he had cut you off before you could even finish the sound. Fast - too fast - agile, and strong. Easily knocking the phone out of your grip first, and you to the ground second. Such a frenzied flurry of movements that you couldn’t even get a breath in before you found yourself pinned to the forest floor with sticks digging into your back.

You had thought to yourself then, as you trembled beneath him, that you had done this to yourself. Cost yourself your life, simply because you couldn’t bear the idea of not knowing what lay within these trees. You had stared up at him, frozen, wide-eyed with your racing, and you had been completely and utterly positive that this was the end. This was where you lost your life.

Instead, he had spoke to you.

‘Pretty.’ Just one word. Low and raspy, partially muffled by the guard covering his mouth. One word, that changed the entire trajectory of your life.

Because, you hadn’t died that day, by some grace of god. Some angel following you around, bestowing you with the blessing of being interesting enough to slip out of the grasp of a serial killer.

One that you ended up getting to know quite well. The ‘monster’ becoming the ‘man who lived in the woods’. Then, just becoming ‘Toby’, and finally - the man you loved. It was a slow, gradual process, one that you had never expected, let alone attempted to push for. And yet, possibly by the string of fate, you let him grow closer and closer though you knew how dangerous he was. You let him pull you deep into his world, until you were all but assimilated.

And you came to find out that he might just be the one person on earth more curious than you.

Toby couldn’t feel pain, this was one of the first things you learned about him, and one of his defining attributes though he himself didn’t think much of it on a daily basis. No pain, no temperature, nothing. Just numb to the world around him as he floated through it.

You supposed that if you found yourself in his position, you’d probably be just as intrigued over a concept your body wasn't equipped to understand. To not know pain, left Toby searching for substitutes. For ways to somehow understand it, though his nerves would never light up the way others did.

Over the years before he met you, he did that in the form of massacring victims slowly. Drawing it out just to watch every little reaction, every flinch and every tear. Cataloguing them all, like compiling all this information would somehow make it all make sense.

It never did, but he also never stopped.

And eventually, he turned it on you.

But only because you had let him. Like you were right now.

You’re laying splayed out against Toby’s mattress with his sheets crumpled up beneath you. Toby himself, isn’t far away at all - kneeling at the base of the bed with your legs framing his thighs. Legs that were bare, as was your torso - just your underwear shielding your body from his eyes. The room you both reside in has a chill to the air, a consequence of a slightly cracked window, but as you lay subjected to your boyfriend’s heady gaze you feel yourself starting to sweat. Goosebumps on your arms, and yet there was a heat pooling in your lungs, making its way through your veins; slowly working down lower and lower the longer you squirmed beneath him.

It was because of the look in his eyes. You knew it well - this simmering pool of lust and intrigue that swirled around in those deep brown irises of his. His brain was working a mile a minute, you could tell it was, his shoulders jerking and twitching every now and then from the preemptive excitement sparking up a subtle flurry of tics.

Like this, though you liked to tell yourself that you knew Toby from the inside out by now, it’s difficult not to accept that there’s parts of him you don’t quite have a grasp on. Because when your eyes flicker up shyly to make contact with his, you’re certain that you haven't a single clue what on earth he’s thinking.

You’re on his mind, that’s clear from the way his gaze rakes up and down your body - from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Lingering on all the bits he had more of an affinity for. Your lips. The soft swell of your breasts, cupped so perfectly by a lacy little bra he knew you wore just for him. Pretty packaging wrapped around an even prettier gift.

Your stomach, and the way it quivered with each breath you took in. The curve of your hips, the crease between them and your thighs. All this soft supple flesh, that his fingers twitched at the thought of touching.

Toby often considered it a miracle that he, out of all people, managed to snag and keep someone as beautiful as you. He knew how he came off - more off putting than most, rugged in a way that was definitely an acquired taste. Dangerous. Deranged and condemnable to most.You appreciated all of it, though. Loved all of it. Accepted and encouraged him no matter what little quirk he threw your way. No matter what suggestion or idea was lingering on the tip of his tongue.

To Toby, you were nothing short of an angel. One sent specifically to him, as some form of redemption for what he had gone through in the past. He knew that he wasn’t a good person by any stretch of the word, not with the things he’d done and the blood that stained his entire existence. With you around though - with you laying beneath him so compliant, soft, and good - it was easy to convince himself that maybe he was alright after all. Maybe, he did deserve this.

He treated you well enough to keep you around for the past few years, though you should’ve run the moment he gave you the chance. Surely that feat alone gave him some merit.

After so long feeling guilty and undeserving of your company, it was only time before he started just being thankful for it instead. Not asking questions, for once in his life, just allowing himself to accept the truth of the matter. He hadn’t forced you to be here, you chose this because you liked him. How he treated you. What he’d do to you, when you gave him the green light.

Toby was inquisitive himself, he knew you were well aware, but he was also quite sure that you harboured the same burning curiosity that he did - just in a different way. You never said no, not even if the things he asked of you would most likely cause anyone else to scrunch their nose up in distaste. You just let him, even when his hands came back bloody. Even when your cheeks were streaked with tears by the end of it all.

Toby had an interest in your body, and how it responded to things, simply because he couldn’t ever form a clear idea on what you were experiencing. Numb to pain, temperature, and most things that would send the average person in a fit of agony - Toby’s mind couldn’t ever grasp what anyone was really feeling since he had no reference point to compare it to. It was like trying to describe a colour, to somebody who was fully blind.

The closest he could ever get was observing. Victims, most often than not - watching with fascination as their expressions contorted in pain and tears pricked at their eyes. He’d watch them writhe, and thrash, voices growing higher and pitch and wobbly around the edges as the suffering he dealt upon them raged through their bodies like a wildfire. Obviously, it sure didn’t look like it felt good, but it was never enough to fully satiate his craving for an answer. In fact, he didn’t think that anything would. He was sure that he would spend his entire life trying to come to a conclusion he was never meant to find.

That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try though, and that didn’t mean you wouldn’t help.

Maybe that’s why the universe had sent you to him in the first place. Someone who matched him so perfectly it was almost uncanny. Someone who always laid back and allowed him to have his fun, because deep down you had just as many questions as he did.

You could feel pain. You could feel the sharp scratch of his nails against your skin, the dull ache where his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. The tension your skin holds beneath his teeth, before it buckles under the pressure of his jaw and snaps beneath his canines. You knew all the different ways that pain could bare its fangs.

Hot and blinding, mind-numbing and impossible to ignore. Or, slow building. Creeping up on you like an infection hellbent on completely taking over. Pain could be piercing, it could be blistering, like wounds so deep they gushed blood for hours after being torn open. Or, it could be sweet. It could be welcome. Like the sweet sting of blood being pulled to the surface of your skin, in the form of a hickey placed upon your neck.

You used to view the feeling as something one-dimensional. Never understanding those who liked being subjected to it. Toby, though not exactly on purpose, had opened that door for you. He had started making you crave all the different ways that pain could taste on your tongue. His curiosities fuelled yours, unlocked a room in your mind you hadn’t even known existed.

Leaving you here, trembling with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as Toby's body cast a shadow over yours. Happy to be here, simply because he had uttered the words ‘I want to try something’.

Your favourite thing to hear, from your favourite person to see.

“L-Look like you’re doing a lot of th-thinking there.” Toby chuckles softly, the low rumble of his voice quickly pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the real world. He reaches forwards, slow and casual, resting his hand on your bare knee. “Can smell the w-wood burning.”

You let out a scoff that comes out more like a shaky huff than you had meant to, your eyes flickering down to where his skin made contact with yours, before meeting his eyes once more. Still a subjugating stare, but cut through by a twinkle of amusement that made your stomach flip. A silver lining of fondness rhat reminded you exactly who you were handing yourself over to.

Toby, the man who loved you. The man who treated you like a prize, even his hands left your skin purple and blue. Toby, who would always, always stop the moment you asked him to.

Because you weren’t like everyone else, to him. You were special. A one of a kind miracle he was sure he’d never experience ever again. No morbid fascination was strong enough to sacrifice you for.

That was why despite the damage he dealt, you felt undeniably safe as you stared up at him.

Frizzy brown hair falling over his forehead, shaggy around his ears and curling at the ends. Features that were somehow both soft, and sharp at the same time. Soft eyes, a rigid curve to his jaw. Sharp canine teeth, plush lips framing them. The gnarled edge of the gash splitting through one side of his face, and yet his cheeks had just enough fat to squish between your fingers. Freckles between scars. Moles dotting around bandages. Long eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks, the perfect compliment to the eyes that always looked at you so adoringly.

This was the man you loved so much, you’d happily put your life in his hands. You had made peace with that fact a long time ago now.

“Yeah, thinking.” You murmur back to him, letting out a shaky little sigh when he gives your knee a little squeeze before his touch travels downwards. Tracing a slow, gently line down the outside of your thigh as he creeps in closer. Nothing rushed, or sporadic. More so like a lion sizing up its prey before diving in for the kill. Watching you with apt appreciation. Every twitch. Every tremble. Every little reaction that told him he had you exactly where he wanted you already. “Wondering what you’re thinking about. What you’ve got in store for me today.”

“What do I have in s-store?” Toby lets out a soft, raspy laugh as his fingers curl into your hip - giving you a soft squeeze. “Good question.” His lips twitch upwards at the corners, the gash in his face stretching in a grotesquely fascinating way. “Nothing b-bad. Promise.”

“You always say that.” You sigh softly, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “And I always end up needing 3-5 business days to recover anyway.”

Toby snorts, but doesn’t deny it - because that’s barely even an exaggeration. What could he say? He liked to test limits.

“Dramatic.” He snickers, before leaning down - ducking his head down low enough that the soft strands of his hair tickle your forehead when his face comes right up to yours. “I-I mean it this time though. N-Nothin’ bad, just wanna see something.” Somehow, that does nothing to ease your apprehension. “You t-trust me, don’t you? You know I a-always take care of you after.”

That was something you were completely and utterly certain of, an irrefutable fact that Toby proved over and over again with his actions. Never once had he betrayed the trust he knew you held for him.

So, your response is an easy one.

“Of course I trust you.” You hum back to him, and you watch how his expression softens a tad - like he’d never get tired of hearing those words, no matter how many times you said them. “I just hate suspense. And I hate when you don’t give me a heads up on what’s going on in there.”

You reach up with one hand, playfully tapping your finger against his temple. His nose scrunches up in response, before his mouth stretches into a smirk that clearly meant nothing but depravity was in store. But, that was always the case with him, so you don’t exactly find yourself surprised.

“Baby, I th-think you’d faint if I told you everything I want to do to you.” He chuckles softly, before dipping his head down lower to place a soft kiss against the tip of your nose. An almost dizzying juxtaposition to what his words entail. “But tonight you r-really don’t have to worry. Don’t gotta do anything but lay back, and look pretty. M’kay?”

He made it sound so simple, so easy - and to be honest, it was. Forfeiting yourself over to Toby was something you had grown accustomed to by now. Something that you actually loved. It was so freeing, to hand yourself over to someone you knew would treat you well. Someone who’d put your pieces back together tenderly, after reverently breaking you apart.

Especially because you knew he was capable of dealing a lot of harm if he truly wanted to, it felt like relinquishing control in the most unconditional way.

“Alright.” You breathe back to him, and it feels like a weight off of your chest. Toby smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as dimples form in his cheeks, before he leans down and presses a gentle little peck against your lips. Slotting your lips together so smoothly, so sweetly, that it makes you forget that this side of him was only a fraction of who he truly was. Good thing you loved every version of him.

“Always s-so sweet for me, huh?” He murmurs against your lips, his touch lingering long enough to have your skin tingling beneath his before he finally pulls away. The absence of his body heat, of his scent filling up all your senses, was something you immediately tried to chase - leaning up onto your elbows to try and bring the two of you back together once more.

Toby just laughs, before reaching forwards and using his palm to press against your chest; pushing you right back down into the sheets. “So needy, too.” He huffs. “Just w-wait, okay? It’ll be g-good.”

And like always, you just find it so easy to believe him.

You watch as he crawls off the bed, tracking his movements when he ventures around to the beat up nightstand positioned next to it. There's not much there - a small lamp with the bulb burnt out, a lighter, a pack of smokes, and a couple little trinkets he had collected during the hours he spent outdoors. There's also a candle. One that, you’re now realizing, hadn’t been there the last time you were here. It’s not exactly a strange item on its own, but when framed as being one of Toby’s belongings, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

This was the same man who often just spritzed the air with his own cologne in lieu of air freshener. Also the same man who lived without proper lighting in his room for months, instead just choosing to let the sun do all the work when it filtered in through his window. Those facts alone are enough to make you positive that the candle isn't there for ambiance, it served a greater purpose than that.

And it probably has something to do with whatever Toby’s been itching to find out.

Sure enough, you’re right. You watch as he reaches forwards and grabs two items off of the nightstand - his lighter, and the aforementioned candle. He doesn’t say a word to you while he does it, just lets you watch him, lets you sit there and stew while you come up with a bunch of assumptions on your own. He can’t keep the amused smile off of his face though, not when you look so clueless yet so curious at the same time.

It was an absolutely adorable look on you.

The mattress dips under his weight when he joins you on the bed once more, reclaiming his space between your thighs with a pleased little hum rumbling from his chest. Finally, that’s when he looks at you. His eyes glint with something that makes your chest feel tight. “Figured out w-what I’m doing yet?” He asks as he scoots in closer, getting in as close as he can. The backs of your thighs resting on the tops of his.

“I… Don’t think so.” You admit, your lips pursed a bit as your gaze flickers between his face and the items in his hands. “I’m gonna need help with this one, I think.”

Toby guys softly and shakes his head, but there’s no real annoyance on his expression - just fond amusement.

“Figured.” He chuckles. Then, he raises one of his hands, showcasing the lighter grasped between his fingers - the metal glinting in the low light of his bedroom. “Y-You know why I do all th-this stuff to you, right?” He asks as he fiddles with it, fidgeting with the spark wheel but not igniting it. Yet.

“Because you’re a sadist?” You supply, raising an eyebrow playfully. It’s technically the right answer, though the most blunt way to put it, and that’s probably why it tugs another soft laugh out of Toby’s lungs.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Sure, I-I’ll give you that one.” He huffs as he rolls his eyes. “It’s more than that, though. I-I don’t… It’s not b-because I necessarily like seeing you in p-pain.” His voice is soft as he explains it, like he’s rationalizing it to himself just as much as he was you. “It’s just the e-easiest way for me to i-imagine what it’s like. Filling in the g-gaps, by watching it up close and personal.”

“Is it working?” You ask. “Do you… Can you wrap your head around it now? More so than before?” Toby just shrugs.

“Kind of, n-not really.” He hums, meeting your gaze again for a moment before it flickers back to the lighter grasped between his fingers. “I d-don’t think I’ll ever actually understand it. I can see how you re-react, what it does to you, but I-I’ll never actually know why. I’ll never know what you’re feeling, what’s m-making you respond the way you do.” He lets out a little breath, before cracking his neck to the side. “But it’s as c-close as I’ll get.”

You let out a shuddering breath as you listen to him speak, watching him with the exact same fascination he holds for you. That only grows when he finally sparks the lighter, and ignites the flame. Flickers of golden light illuminate the space between the two of you, casting dancing shadows against the walls of his room. “It’s not just that, though.” He murmurs softly. “Don’t know what w-warmth feels like. Don’t know what it f-feels like to be hot.” He sets the candle he held in his other hand down on the sheets next to you, before lifting it.

Without even a second thought, and without even flinching, he brings one of his fingers straight into the flame. Letting the fire lick at his already calloused skin, watching it go red, then blister. Not even a hint of recognition on his face while his skin succumbs to the heat. “What it’s like to be b-burnt.” He lets out a breath before flicking the lighter off, and you know that if you were in his position you’d probably have tears rolling down your cheeks if the state of his finger told you anything.

Just a few seconds in the flame and it was blistered and tender, red and raw. “I wanna see what it’s like f-for you.” Your stomach flips at that, your eyes widening just a fraction. “Not… Not like this, I guess.” He gestures to his wounded digit. “But as close to it as you-you’ll let me.”

“Meaning… What?” You ask slowly, carefully, though you’re already starting to piece this alll together already.

“Meaning, this.” Toby shrugs softly, before picking up the candle once more and smiling softly “Wax.”

Oh. Well, you suppose that has to be one of the tamest things he’s ever proposed to you. You’re not averse to it by any means, you’ve just never thought about it. Not uncommon, technically, but not something that had ever graced your mind.

It does make sense though. If he wanted to learn from you, to try and understand things he could barely ever grasp, this would probably be the easiest (and safest) way to do so.

And just always, you find yourself just as curious as he is.

“That’s… That’s actually pretty tame, coming from you.” You chuckle softly, relaxing a little more into the sheets beneath you. There's a look of complete acceptance on your face, not even a flicker of apprehension. It’s such a beautiful sight.

“Is that a good thing, o-or a bad thing?” Toby snorts, his eyes honed in on your expression. It’s like he’s trying to memorize it for reference, so that he can truly appreciate how it changes when you’re in the throes of what he’s about to give you.

“Good, I think.” You hum back. “It’s nice to… Relax a bit sometimes.”

“Relax?” Toby barks out an almost startled laugh, his expression in near disbelief. “This is what you-you call relaxing?”

A little shrug from you, and he only laughs harder. “God, you’re f-fuckin’ perfect.”

He lets out a near delighted huff, his eyes sparkling with something close to adoration, before he sparks the lighter again - this time bringing the flame to the candle. The wick ignited immediately, crackling a little with a small puff of smoke into the air. It sounds much louder than it is, in the silence of his room. Nothing but the sound of you two breathing, and the fizzling of the flame burning between you. “It’s not s-supposed to hurt you.” He murmurs, his eyes cast downwards as he watches the wax slowly melt. “Not re-really. It’ll c-cool before it can really burn you.”

“You researched this, huh?” You murmur back to him softly, almost in a trance now as you watch the flame flicker. It makes Toby look so much more captivating than he is usually. Shadows cast over all the high points of his face, a reflection of the flame dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Toby mutters, a sheepish little smile curving his lips. “Wanted to… Do it right, I g-guess.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” You reply, with a twinge of amusement laced between your words. You watch just as he does, as more and more wax pools, liquifying under the heat on the flame. You feel the muscles of your abdomen tense up instinctively, even though the threat is so minor. “Glad your brain didn’t just go straight to burning me.”

“Oh, it d-did.” Toby snickers lowly, before tossing the lighter to the side for it to land with a clatter against the floor. Then, he moves in closer, the tension in the air jusy as hot as the flame that burned between you. “That’s why I researched. Found a b-better way to do it.”

His hand reaches out, just barely tilting the candle towards you. Not enough to let the wax spill yet, but the perfect amount to have you sucking in a sharp breath. “Plus, I-I think it’ll look pretty. A bonus.”

Your eyes dance between the liquid wax tipped so precariously towards you, and the look of fascinated glee on Toby’s face. He looks almost boyish right then, his features softened and smoothed over by a sense of delight he just can’t contain. Like someone who’s been offered the exact gift they wanted on their birthday.

It’s cute. It melts you just the same as the candle before you.

“Alright.” You hum, letting out a breath before forcing yourself to get more comfortable - shifting against the sheets, tilting your head back against the pillow. “Then let’s try it.”

That was all Toby needed. He was patient in his own right, but it was a strained form of patience. The type that snapped at a moment’s notice, as soon as you gave the word.

That’s what happens.

He doesn’t give you a warning, or any heads up before he tips the candle forwards more - finally letting the wax spill free.

The moment it makes contact you jolt, a gasp getting caught in your throat from the sensation that splatters against your skin. Stinging, hot, enough to make your whole body tense up. You feel it travel across your skin in slow rivulets as the wax rolls across your abdomen - bringing that same heat wherever it touched. Your face scrunches up, eyes squeezing shut as you let out a hiss through your teeth.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappeared.

You feel all the pain ebb away as the wax cools and hardens against your stomach, leaving behind just a ghost of the feeling. You could still the tingle of it lingering on your skin, could feel the wax crack and crumble when you shifted a little. You let out a shaky breath, let your eyelids flutter open, and give your brain a moment to process it all. That this was okay. Just a fleeting feeling that couldn’t do any real harm.

For what you had put yourself through before, this was nothing - but somehow, it feels like everything.

Especially when Toby’s looking at you like you had offered him the entire world.

He’s enraptured, absolutely enamoured. Had watched every single minute twitch, and jerk. Every wrinkle in your expression, every tremble and tremor - like it was a play put on specifically for him. One that starred you, the key performer in the act that was his entire life.

“Shit-“ He murmurs under his breath, and you see in real time when his pupils dilate - fixated on you, like everything else had ceased to exist. “How was that?"

“Fine- No, good.” You breathe words out in an exhale, your brain still buzzing from what you had just felt. It felt like a form of whiplash, a pain that you expected to linger and yet it was gone in an instant. It left you craving more, like you had been cut off before it really got to the good part. “It’s… It’s weird though, I didn’t expect it to feel like that.”

“Weird?” Toby hums, before his free hand drifts down. It trails over your stomach, cracking fragile wax under his finger tips before gently pulling it from your skin. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but only for a little bit.” You answer softly, breathing out a trembling breath as he picks the flaking wax off of you. “It’s intense, and then it’s just… Gone.”

“Huh.” Toby murmurs as his hand trails up higher, bringing cracked wax and a wave of tingles with it. His palm smooths over your skin reverently, so appreciative as it cups your chest through the lace of your bra. Not even squeezing, just holding you, loving the way your body fit in his grip so perfectly. “Do you want m-more?”

It’s an easy thing to answer. Everything seems to come easy to you around him.

“I want whatever you’ll give me.” You say, and it’s one of the most beautiful things to ever grace Toby’s ears. Like music. Soft and sweet, but still packing a punch that makes Toby shudder.

“Can’t k-keep saying stuff like that.” He huffs out, his pulse kicking up a notch. You never seemed to realize that your effect on him, was just as fierce as his on you. A perfect match. You had been from the start.

“Why not?” You breathe back to him. “It works.”

It sure did.

Toby huffs out a breathy laugh before shaking his head, caught between being sickeningly smitten and caught off guard from just how devoted you were to him. But, like he always does, he finds it much more beneficial to just let it be, when it comes to you. To just accept it, and realize that these decisions were ones that you were making on your own. Completely of your own volition, because you loved being loved by him.

And you loved the intensity that came with it.

The next time the wax hits you, it meets your chest. Even with prior knowledge of what it feels like now, the sensation still hits you as sharply as it had the first time. If anything, it feels like more this time. Maybe, because the skin it was gracing now was more sensitive. Maybe, it was just because you had been buzzing all over since the first drop splatter against your skin. “Shit- Toby-“ You gasp softly, your shoulders bowing off the bed as the heat seeps into your skin.

Blisteringly hot one second, simmering into something beautiful and almost comforting once it cooled. Rolling down the slope of your breast, before it hardened in place - leaving frozen droplets of wax suspended over flushed skin.

It feels… Delightful. A pain so easily controlled, that it takes away all the fear. It’s barely even pain at all, just bordering on it - dipping your toes in.

It might’ve been your favourite idea he’s had yet.

“You’re so b-beautiful.” Toby murmurs softly, his breathing growing short and choppy the longer he watched you. How you squirmed and writhed, flinched like he had slapped you each time the wax hit you, only for you to relax again - melting into the sheets.

He had seen you many ways. Bleeding, bruised, crying and gasping for air as you tried to cling to reality. He had seen you breathless in more tame ways, watched your face contort in untainted pleasure as he pressed your hips into the mattress below you.

This though, this might be his favourite sight yet.

You were just so wonderfully vulnerable. Letting everything you felt come across clear as day on your pretty face.

It was just like he had told you. It wasn’t about hurting you - it was never about hurting you. It was about watching you, appreciating what he had in his grasp. Learning things, that only you could teach him.

It was never about the pain. It was just about you.

Always you.

You, letting him paint your pretty body in droplets of coloured wax. Painting you like a canvas, taking the role of an artist to create you - his masterpiece.

Draining the candle until the wax ran dry. Until every drop found a home creating a fragile layer across your skin. Breathing in every gasp, every little whimper, every whine and hiss. Soaking up everything you gave him like a sponge, until his mind was completely and utterly saturated with nothing but thoughts of you - hearts in his eyes and an ache in his chest only you knew how to create.

As far as he was concerned, while he watched the last few droplets cool on your skin, he was the luckiest man on earth. And as the flame died out, transfiguring into nothing but smoke in the still air - he felt like he had fallen in love all over again. “You’re too good f-for me.” He murmurs to you softly, his voice strained as a shaky hand sets the now empty candle onto the bedsheets next to you. The sheets, which were now a dirtied mess of dried wax and sweat. The discomfort from that would kick in soon, but for now, all you felt were butterflies in your stomach. “Seriously, you r-really are.”

“I don’t think so.” You exhale softly, your eyes fluttering closed - somehow feeling so exhausted, though you had barely even done a thing. Worn out from overexerting your mind, most likely. Used up too much adrenaline, and now you felt weak. “I think we’re just a good match.”

Toby just sits there for a moment, leaning back on his calves with a heart-achingly soft look in his eyes - one that you didn’t see, but surely would’ve buckled you if you had. He lets the silence stretch, lets himself count each shaky breath you take, listening to how they slowly even out.

And then, he chuckles.

“Yeah, maybe.” He mutters out - barely satisfied by that answer, but accepting it nonetheless. There were more important things to worry about right now, than the trials and tribulations of his mind.

Like, getting you cleaned up, for instance.

And making sure you never once doubted the words you said.

-

HIIIIIIIIII this one was fun because I just got to play around with the whole intimacy aspect, being all close and vulnerable without actually fucking yk?

"So, anyway," his hands worked effortlessly on the bottle of warm milk, ensuring the lid was screwed on tightly despite the slight tremble. "Anakin then falls to the b-b-bad side, right? And then Palpatine gets in his head and is all like, 'you don't ne-nneeed her-!'" Toby's voice dropped down into a croak as he intimidated Emperor Palpatine before his voice went back to his usual deep hum. "Which, yeah, I get it, but surely this gu- guy like l-lloves her, right? Then he has to f-ffight Obi-Wan-" Then he paused, turning abruptly to the small child sat on the couch just behind him. "You know who that guy is right? You following?"

The little girl blinked, glanced away and then huffed softly. Alright, maybe he wasn't good with this whole baby stuff as he thought. Toby's lips pursed and he glanced away too.

"Alright, no more Star Wars, got it," he nodded curtly before turning back to the bottle in his hands. He placed it down momentarily on the kitchen counter to roll up his sleeves before retrieving it, giving a few sturdy shakes to ensure the powder mixed with the warm water. The silence swallowed them, aside from the sploshing of powder mixing with water. "So, let's talk about ss-ssomething else.."

It was hard, raising a kid that is. It was his first time doing this kinda shit and he only just got the grips of making the kid a bottle while you went out on a mission - leaving him here with a kid that honestly didn't seem to interested in him. It was hard, harder than he would ever imagine. No, not the sleepless nights, the vomit or shit that somehow decorated up the kids back in a way he would never comprehend - it was the bonding. How did you do this so effortlessly? It almost seemed unfair.

"Uhh.. hmm.." Toby pondered, glancing briefly out the cabin window. What were girls into? More specifically - what was his girl into? It wasn't Star Wars, that was clear enough. "Unicorns?" he suggested with furrowed brows, shooting his daughter a cautious look. She still didn't look convinced, just staring up at him with those big brown eyes that looked far too like his. He wasn't sure what was harder, trying to bond with a kid that hadn't started talking yet or trying to understand what little girls like. It was frustrating, she was his daughter and he was a dad - he a duty to make her happy and even he was helpless in that. "Alright, this isn't working out," he declared, approaching the kid to sit cautiously beside her on the couch; so cautious that she were about to break if he made any sudden movements.

She was so beautiful. At times, he still couldn't believe that she was his daughter. Him having a daughter just felt wrong because Toby didn't feel good enough to be a father in the first place. His hand continued to shake the bottle in a motion he was way too familiar with as he turned away, teeth chewing idly on the inside of his cheeks. Maybe he should just admit defeat and put her down for a nap. "What about a book?" he suggested, turning back to the girl. Those big eyes looked up at him and admittedly, it was hard for him to conceal a little smile. "Okay, stay here." Then the brunette stood, giving the bottle to his daughter to grab a book off the floor. This whole cabin was a mess of toys, he'd never imagined his life to look like that.

"This book ll-lloooks good.." he mumbled more so to himself then to her, admiring the front cover. The book was small, no bigger than the palm of his hand and it was decorated with bright colors. You must've took it because the price tag was still on the front. "The Small Bear," Toby read out the title, shooting a glance to her for some sort of approval. She seemed more than content, bottle in mouth and leaning back with her little, chubby fingers idly toying with her toes.

After settling down himself, with the book in one hand, he moved to drape one arm across the back of the couch - an open invitation for her to come snuggle closer. His daughter accepted the invite, scooting her butt across the couch to nestle closer to her dad. Having her by his side was a presence he needed - a reminder that grounded him on his worse days. "You want me to read this one?" Toby asked down at her, motioning to the book and lifting it up briefly. The young girl looked up at him, then to the book and gave a soft nod. His heart melted, when was she getting so smart? Shit, he'd have to start teaching her some German at some point. "Alright," Toby bite back a cheesy grin and flipped the page.

The first page was decorated like a forest, the same sort of forest they were living in - a cabin in the woods type shit. With big green trees that were admittedly a lot more greener than they had outside and on the right hand side of the page sat a small, brown bear.

"A small brown bear was lost in the woods, alone and scared with no food. What sh-sshould the small brown bear do?" Toby spoke, trying his best to sound somewhat interested in the book he was reading. His eyes flickered down to his daughter briefly, who remained snugged by his side with the bottle up to her mouth. Then, he turned the next page where the small brown bear met a squirrel. "Small brown bear, lost in the woods, found a friend with some food," then he paused again, shooting his daughter another look. She was more immersed in this than he was. "You see the squirrel?" he asked, pointing to the small drawing of the squirrel in the tree. His daughter nodded, eyes following to admire the squirrel. Then, her small finger followed his and pointed too and he huffed a small hum of a laugh. "Yeah, that's right," he hummed.

Then, he continued, turning the page once again. This time, the bear was walking through the forest with the squirrel by its side. Suddenly his daughter gave a little squeak, pointed to the two and sat up. Clearly this was exciting as fuck for a kid. Sometimes, he found himself wondering what went through his daughters head sometimes - what innocence he wished he could immerse himself in for just a day - no - an hour at most.

"They're walking together," Toby confirmed with a soft nod, to which his daughter pulled the bottle from her mouth and babbled something Toby had no understanding. This was one thing you were good at, deciphering what she meant. "Uh, yeah, sure," Toby mumbled, giving another awkward smile before glancing back at the book. "Keep going?" he asked and it was there, she nodded once again. This whole parenting stuff was easy when she wasn't shitting herself and screaming in his ear. It was worse when she'd find herself sick with something and she'd vomit and shit at the same time. That was something nobody prepared him for, especially when it happened the first time while she was sat on his lap.

As per routine, he turned the page and now it seemed the bear and squirrel stumbled upon a fox. She squealed again, pointing to the fox. She always loved those animals. "A fox," Toby commented, following her gaze before turning to her. "Can you say that? Fox?" he asked, eyebrows raising in mild interest. Shit, if he said that right there and then, he'd probably scream or something. Only there was silence and his lips pursed, not sure entirely what he expected. "No, I get it, I struggle to say that too..." he hummed, glancing back down to the book.

"Fox."

Toby's heart dropped and his brows furrowed, shooting his head quickly to stare down at his daughter. Was he tripping? Hearing voices again? Slowly, he took a cautious look around the cabin but it was just the two of them - man, he hoped so anyway.

"Did you.. wait, say that again? For m-mmee?" he pleaded softly.

"Fox."

Then Toby's mouth hung agape and his hands moved quick to snap the book shut. He did what he half expected to do, stand up with arms in the air and screaming incoherent things. Only, his sleepy daughter did not appreciate that and suddenly, she burst into tears. Quickly, he recoiled and pulled his arms close to his chest - a part of him afraid he had hurt her.