۶ৎ how you and older toji met
⤥ cw; corruption, infantilization, dumbification, childish reader, lack of a parental figure, taboo content, no smut but mature content, read at your own risk I beg, send reqs for this
You were sitting on the side of the road. The cars passed by and not a single one stopped to wonder what you were doing.
You couldn't see them anyways. Your eyes never once looked up from your dirty, white ruffled socks and the shoes beside you.
Your bike had broke down. Name a more cliche circumstance to be in than stranded by the malfunction of your little beige and pink bicycle with a basket in the front. The basket carried a tiny purse.
Your face had a pouty expression painted onto it. Something between overstimulation and despair with tears trickling down your flushed cheeks. It was hot.
The tree lined street was providing a tad bit of shade, still your misery was more heating than the sun.
Toji, driving past, couldn't resist the sight he was looking at.
There was en emitting purity getting him down from his truck in a matter of seconds. "Something the matter?" He spoke, one brow raised. His tone was dominant and firm, similar to one of a father.
He crouched slowly, peeling your gaze away from the concrete floor by grabbing your chin. "You got a home, sweetheart?" His words were tender on the surface, but underneath they were calculated, sly.
You glanced up at him, keeping your eyes set on his scar. With a quivering bottom lip you replied, "Uh-huh." Your voice was timid.
He grabbed the shoes off the ground, slipping them onto your feet. You took them off because of the callouses they were forming on your ankle. "You look pathetic," he murmured under his breath bluntly. He used his thumb to wipe a tear.
You huffed, wiping the tears yourself with your forearm. "How am I supposed to get home with a broken bike?" Your voice cracked, sounding like an exasperated whine.
It elicited a laugh from him. Then tilting his head and scratching at his nape. "You don't know your mommy's phone number or somethin'?" He questioned, matter of factly.
You shook your head, "Not alive." Typically that gave for a coo of pity or a worried expression, but he didn't even react. "Daddy's?" He replied, moving on to another potential solution.
Then another shake of your head, this time just looking quickly away. "Ah," he exhaled, flicking your temple in humor. "Not a daddy's girl, huh? Would you be in big trouble?" And you nodded. Toji imagined you'd be a big ole daddy's girl if you had one who took care of you properly.
"What were you up to all alone anyways, huh doll?" He interrogated, standing up and running a hand through his hair.
He noticed your hesitation, as if you didn't really trust him. He wanted to get inside that pretty little head, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. "I won't tell yer daddy, babygirl." He assured.
He'd guide you into the deep end without even having to push.
So that's how you ended up in the passenger seat of his truck where he buckled your seatbelt himself and threw your busted down bike to the bed of the truck. "Where d' you live?" He spoke, hands on the wheel and eyes on the road.
"Uhm, just ten minutes from here." You said in all seriousness, yet he laughed. One hand went away from the wheel, press his hand against his temple for a moment. "Ten minutes from here where, sweetheart? You really got so little inside that brain of yours?" He teased, driving remotely slow.
You glanced away, embarrassed. It was about five minutes into driving when he spoke again, this time causing you to choke out a gasp. "You a virgin, doll?" What the fuck? He was so serious about the question, even looking in your direction.
With a minimally adjusted expression, you bit the fat of your inner cheek. "Uhm," You mumbled. "Yeah."
A smile appeared on his face, though he didn't let you see it.
"Then you really got no business in a strange man's car, hmm." Not to mention how much older he was, some white strands of hair on his head. Regardless, you looked at him this time. He seemed dangerous, somebody to be wary of. Yet it drew you in.
"Are you going to hurt me, mister?" You asked, finally speaking up in a complete sentence. He scoffed, staring at your innocent gaze through his peripheral. "If I was, 'really think l'd tell ya'?"
He pulled over, side of the road. "Listen sweetheart, I got no clue where you live." He said starkly. It made your heart beat louder than before. "So, tell you what," And if you had puppy ears, they'd be perched up right now by the sight of your eyes.
"I'll take ya' to my place and charge yer phone, then we can figure shit out tomorrow, sound good?" And you nodded almost instantly. Anything sounded better than racking your brain for some silly excuse to tell your father.
He did just that. His apartment complex was spacious, sort of disorganized, but better than stacks of beer bottles and ziplock bags filled with white powder, huh?
"Can ya' cook?" He asked, putting your bag down at the front door. All it carried was a deck of cards. You nodded slightly in confusion. "Do ya" like to cook?" He asked again, syllables enunciated. And you nodded again, still sort of unsure. "Cook for, uhm, my dad."
He hummed, throwing random food shit on the counter of his kitchen. "Well, uhm, get to it if y'wanna eat tonight." He mocked your mannerism, pursed lips appearing on your face.
He went to shower, leaving you all alone in his kitchen. He knew you were vulnerable, defenseless; it wasn't trust to leave you alone, it was certainty that your pitifulness wouldn't run out any time soon.
You ended up making two chicken breasts and putting rice to cook, not enough edible food in his house to make a bigger meal. Though it'd still be the first proper meal Toji has had in a while.
You kept your distance from him, standing beside the couch.
You stared at him, eyes darting to wherever he went, slightly cautious. He was eating, also glancing at you every once in a while. "Doll," he mumbled, swallowing and practically throwing the bowl into the sink.
You flinched at the noise, look up at Toji towering over you.
"Uh, uh huh?" And he grabbed your chin between his fingers.
"You gonna just stay here for free?" He whispered, coaxing a humiliating reaction out of you as he rubbed your bottom lip.
You didn't have money, or anything to pay with in general, would he kick you out? "I don't have," Your voice was so sweet, he looked at you as if you were eye candy. "Money, hun? You don't have?" He just spoke to hear you reply; he knew the answer. "How about you pay me with something else, huh sweetheart?"
His lips were at your earlobe now, biting down softly. He licked at your pulse point, beginning to draw a pretty, purple bruise.
You shivered, pushing away at his abdomen although it did nothing. He wasn't going to have you like this, no. Not while you were scared of him. He'd have you dumb and wanting by the time he fucked you properly. Maybe he'll taste you beforehand, though.
"Please-" your voice was desperate, eyebrows furrowed into a miserable expression. "Stop, I don— don't want to-" He tutted, annoyed by how you treated him like a monster. He wasn't far from it, but he'd prefer reliance, dependence.
"I'm not gonna fuck you, doll." He said. Not yet, atleast.
© princessquill | do not plagiarize or copy
