Blurry Face (Yandere Ticci Toby x reader): 1 ⚠️next chapters on other account⚠️

/4/Q҉U҉I҉E҉T҉L҉Y҉ D҉I҉S҉T҉U҉R҉B҉E҉D҉

αυgυѕт 20тн, 2007

Toby sat anxiously on the couch, twitching more than he usually did.

You were here.
God, you were always fucking here.
And he wasn't sure if he liked it all that much.

Don't get him wrong,
he thought you were pretty cool,
even though sometimes you
could be rude,
but something about you scared him.

And it wasn't like how his dad traumatized his small childish mind...
but it was in a different way.

And it somewhat thrilled him.

He glanced over at your limp figure.
You were also on the couch, a few good inches away from him.
Your attention wasn't on Toby though, but on a certain book.
'Carrie', he thinks it's called.

Of course it was horror,
one of the
many things that Toby has learned
just by watching you was that you
were obsessed with horror.

Just like him.

Toby's head suddenly perked up at the sound of the door opening and closing.

"I'm home!" A gruff voice boomed throughout the house... but you didn't flinch.
You were to preoccupied getting stuck in your imagination and the sent of old paper to care about who was here.

But Toby cared...
he cared a lot...

because it was his father.

He could hear his little heart pounding, almost as loud as
Adam's footsteps as he makes his way to the family room where you two were sitting.

"Oh... you're... you're here again."
The sent of alcohol rushed towards you and Toby like Harry Potter and his fucking patronus.

You didn't cringe, well, you didn't even look up from your book either.
You ignored Adam like you ignored your homework.

You've seen what he's done and how he acts,
to Lyra's relief, you didn't judge her.
Instead, you completely lost the determination to be a respectful, stuck up, little princess... well at least to Lyra's father.

"My girl, where's my... uh... my wife?"
He raised his voice a little higher to get your attention.

"Well, Mrs. Rogers is at
Lyra's soccer game, I believe.
She left me here to hang out with Toby since he doesn't feel well."

Toby mentally thanked you for not using the word 'babysit,'
even though he was young,
he wanted to act more adult-ish;
and you somehow remembered.

"Oh, well... hey! Why don't you sit like a lady? 'Ya don't want no one thinkin'
you're a slut."

You sighed, spreading your legs further than how they originally were; sinking deeper into the leather couch.
"Is this better, sir?"

Toby restrained himself from bursting out into laughter,
his round, soft cheeks becoming visibly red as he held his breath.

Adam inhaled deeply.
He was already annoyed coming home almost every day to see this
random, sassy child
pop out of nowhere.
It just made him more pissed to see that you really didn't give a flying fuck about respect.