toph x bimbo!reader..?
adult toph x bimbo!reader
content: modern au, beefy!toph, bimbo!reader, first time meeting, both of you are kinda bitchy, no relationship (yet).. idk that’s all i can list
summary: you confront the pervert who won’t stop looking at your tits.. or not?
author’s note: i have a fluffier drabble up with a similar prompt! where you’re toph’s gyaru gf and eat sushi off her biceps ;) check it out here! also note that this is a modern au so don’t come at me if she’s slightly OOC.. i tried my best..
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the word “overdressed” simply did not exist in your vocabulary; skimpy clothes and fun accessories are what life’s about!
you relished the attention every time you went out, whether it was a cute girl whistling appreciatively or a scandalized old couple glaring at you like your presence itself was blasphemous.
nails long enough to inconvenience, big wild hair that you always doused with even more volume spray (no hair’s ever too big!!), mini skirt that rode up with the tiniest movement, stacked layers of jewelry looped around your neck, wrists, ankles; even your abdomen, with colorful waist beads that laid below your pierced navel.
with all that jingling, your friends often said they heard you before they saw you; you were recognizable by the very sway of your hips.
there you were now, legs crossed, scrolling on your phone as you rode the bus home. you could feel some people’s fleeting glances your way, and hell if you didn’t enjoy it each and every time. you’d grown used to acting unbothered, biting back a smile, like you didn’t notice all the attention on you — but you clearly knew what you were doing. if you noticed a particularly pretty girl looking at you from afar, you’d innocently fan yourself, using inexistent heat as an excuse to bunch up the hair hiding your back and nape, exposing more skin for her curious gaze.
of course, you’d always act surprised and flattered when she’d later come up to ask for your number. so easy.
and right now, your next likely prey was the quite attractive woman sitting in front of you. even though you pretended to be busy on your phone, you were hyperaware of her eyes on you. well, more specifically, on your tits.
you didn’t mind— hell, you even slightly leaned forward to accentuate your cleavage. after all, she was hot; buff arms resting behind her head, white tank top snug against her abs, long dark tousled hair, sweatpant-clad legs spread wide enough to bother the men on her sides. a potential fling.
you waited for a good while, but she made no move on you yet. she was just ogling you! ogling so hard that it was pretty difficult to act like you didn’t notice it.
that pissed you off. sure, you liked attention, but this was just a pervert. her eyes were drilling holes into your chest, and she didn’t even bother to glance up at your face once!
you decided to go for another approach, this time looking up at her yourself. maybe if you gave her attention first, she’d get embarrassed and properly hit on you or something.
you gave her one of your sultry smiles, tilting your head to further expose the delicate slope of your shoulder — then your eye twitched. she was still staring at your tits!
you huffed, now flustered, and sat up straight, pulling your top up so she could get the hint and drop it. jesus, did she have no shame?
her gaze lingered, and you felt your blood boil. what the fuck was her problem?
“stop staring, weirdo,” you finally barked, crossing your arms over your chest. that earns absolutely no answer from her, her eyes still stubbornly set on the swell of your breasts. seriously??
you scoffed, “hey, i said stop staring!” your voice raised up a notch, making some heads turn towards you. and even then, she did not budge. oh, that was it.
you got up from your seat, glaring down at her, “i’m talking to you, you fucking pervert. i said, stop staring at me!”
her eyes fluttered into a soft blink, her attention piqued, but she did not address you yet. by now, everybody was watching the scene unfold, and the embarrassment of being the only one speaking had heat creeping up your cheeks.
“stop acting so oblivious, you— you— you weirdo!” you stammered, anger rolling off you in hot waves, stepping closer to crowd the wide open space between her legs.
she looks up at you — well, more like at your chest again. you swore you felt a blood vessel burst in your brain right now. “are you talking to me?” she asks at last, voice low and genuine, casually making conversation with your tits.
“o-of course you! fucking pervert!” you scowled, voice cracked and high-pitched; all eyes were on you now. if there was one thing you hated more than perverts, it was the shameless ones who didn’t even try to hide it.
did she just expect you to be one of those shy scared girls who’ll just take it? wrong fucking person.
“you’re such a pig! i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you can’t just leer at a random girl’s boobs for the whole ride, then act all dumb— ah ah!” you interrupt her when her lips part, seemingly about to protest.
“no! i know what you’re gonna say. you think because i’m dressed like this, so slutty and revealing, it’s fine to look at me however you want?” you scoff, jabbing your finger into her chest harshly. “well that’s not how it works, you fucking sicko. and just because you’re a woman doesn’t make it any less creepy. the way i dress is not an invitation to sexually harass me, no matter how attractive i am.”
she frowns, mouth opening again, “but i—”
“nuh-uh— don’t even try!” you cut her off again, giving her another shove, “now that i exposed you, you’re going to play the confused victim? where was your shame when your eyes were literally stripping me naked a few seconds ago? or do you only remember it when you get caught, huh?”
a heavy silence filled the bus when you finished your loud rant. you were almost panting, heart thudding hard enough to shatter your ribs, hands shaky with nervousness and irritation. you weren’t just going to let this shit slide.
she stayed quiet until she was sure you had nothing left to say, then lazily scratched her head. “… i’m blind.”
…
that was one hell of a slap in the face. you expected many things to leave her mouth, but never could you have possibly predicted this one.
all the passengers immediately started whispering, many throwing you dirty looks and pitying the unbothered woman before you. you clenched your fists, chewing at your bottom lip, digging crescent shapes into your hands. you wished the bus would just crash right now to relieve you from this humiliation. you didn’t even know what to do or say in this situation.
“i—” you started, a guilty frown tugging at your features, still standing between her spread thighs, “i-i didn’t—”
she only cooed, sweetly waving you off, “aw, you didn’t know. that’s okay, no need to apologize. maybe next time, hold your horses and don’t be such a self-centered little bitch right off the bat, hm?”
you blinked. what?
“excuse me?”
“you’re excused.”
your brows furrowed, defensive again, “i’m not any of that. h-how was i supposed to know your intentions? all i saw was that you were ogling me! my reaction was warranted.”
she sighed, shaking her head like you were some disobedient child, “i told you i’m blind, and you still won’t take responsibility for the trouble you caused? just how entitled are you? all this ruckus over your tits. if i actually had sight and wanted to see some that bad, i sure as hell wouldn’t stare at yours. i don’t know why you think you’re such a hot shot.”
“i—!” you felt your cheeks flush at the quiet snickers around you, nails sinking deeper into your palms. “i-i’m not—”
she smiled, smug and taunting, and nudged your leg with her knee, “it’s okay. just save yourself the embarrassment, and go sit back down, yeah? the bus is still moving, you could trip.”
this wasn’t fair, at all. you felt tears pricking at your eyes. this wasn’t your fault! how were you supposed to know that she was blind!? this is how any normal person would react to a pervert! you wanted to argue further, somehow salvage this whole thing, but at the end of the day, you were the one at fault. you made a scene, and these were the consequences.
“i-i know i made a mistake,” you swallowed, trying to steel yourself, “but you don’t have the right to insult me. i didn’t do this on purpose, i didn’t know.”
“aw,” she crooned, her smile widening, “too bad. if you can make assumptions about me, then so can i. oh no, are you going to cry?”
that pulled a muffled sob out of you. you frantically rubbed at your eyes, mortified, “n-no i’m not! i.. i understand i was wrong, i just—”
“then sit.” she spat as she leaned back against her seat, looking bored. “if you know you’re wrong, shut up and get a move on. you’re bothering me.”
the longer this went on, the more of a spectacle you made of yourself. you could even hear phones being pulled out of bags, some discreetly recording the whole ordeal. this was definitely going into the list of embarrassing moments you’ll think of every night for the rest of your life.
“.. sorry,” you mumbled before deciding on sitting back down, refusing to look up from your lap. your fingers curled around the fabric of your skirt, deeply upset, as you tried ignoring the jokes circulating around you.
you counted the agonizingly long seconds left until you got home.
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the second the bus read out your stop, you instantly got up, excusing yourself as you squirmed through the gaps between the leaving passengers, desperate to get away as quickly as possible.
you finally hopped off with a relieved sigh, adjusting your clothes, face still red with shame. ugh, whatever, everybody in that bus will eventually forget about you anyway, and it’s not like you were going to see her again. no use dwelling on it.
you adjusted the heel strap that had been painfully digging into your calf, then started walking to your house.
“well well, if it isn’t jingle bells.” you squealed at the sudden voice pitching up behind you, startled, quickly turning back to face them — too quickly — only to end up tripping over yourself. you forgot you were wearing your seven inch platform heels.
the abrupt movement caused you to plop down right on your butt, as a god awful pain licked up your now probably twisted ankle to your spine, earning a loud wail from you.
“.. what the hell?” this time, you looked up at the source of the low voice. of course, what were the chances? there she was, her hands deep in the pockets of her sweats, her sightless eyes set on some place over your shoulder. “you’re so jumpy.”
you scoffed, rubbing at your ankle, “what do you want? i already said sorry, leave me alone.”
“so, you live around here too?”
a vein bulged through your forehead. why was she acting like nothing happened?
“yeah. wow, that’s great. same stop. i’m so happy.” you grumbled sarcastically, taking off your shoe to properly inspect the bruise.
she stayed quiet as you felt around the throbbing skin, biting back pained whimpers.
“is this entertaining to you?” you asked after a few minutes of her silently looming over you while you tended to your sprain.
she hummed, not moving an inch, “not really.”
“how did you even recognize me? aren’t you blind?”
“please, you sound like a fucking christmas tree when you walk. you’re a blind person’s dream.”
“…shut up.”
you exhaled, almost done. you just needed some sort of cloth to wrap it up nice and tight.. you reached for your ridiculously tiny bag, opening it, but oh who were you kidding— when did you ever carry anything other than lip gloss?
“need something?” she chimed in, picking up on the sound of your irritated rummaging.
“ugh, i just want some cloth or tissue to wrap around my foot, but i don’t have anything on me. all i carry with me are useless, useless things. always. seriously, why do i do that?”
she quietly listened to your continued rambling as you pressed down on your ankle with your own hands, when the sound of fabric ripping reached your ears. the moment you decided to lift your head, a torn white piece of cloth landed right on your face.
“it should do,” she casually put her hands back in her pockets. you grabbed it off your eyes, looking up at her, and noticed the wide tear on her tank top. and her now deliciously exposed abs.
you cleared your throat, and for a moment you were glad she was blind and couldn’t see how distracted you were by her muscles (after that whole fight about her “leering”.. talk about hypocrisy.) “t-thank you, you didn’t have to.”
she shrugged, “you’re miserable. just doing charity work.”
could she not be normal for one minute? you sighed, setting your protests to the side for now, grateful for the help, and wrapped the obtained fabric over your swollen flesh.
“what street are you on?”
“oh,” you looked behind you, pointing at the small alley to your right, “that one.”
she huffed, unamused, “i’m blind.”
“oh, right.” you blushed, “i live next to betty’s bakery.”
she grinned, leaning down, “i’m always at betty’s bakery.”
and just like that, right there in the middle of the street, as if the past hour didn’t happen at all, you bonded over chocolate pastries.
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the cold pavement was starting to freeze your poor butt, especially with how tiny your skirt was, so you shifted on your hands and knees, cautiously getting up.
“son of a bitch!” you cursed when you let your injured foot touch the floor, a hot sting rippling through your limb, causing you to immediately lift it off again. you rested your hand on her shoulder for balance, standing on your one good leg.
her hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you closer, “careful, ankle sprains hurt like hell.” she feels around the ground to find your discarded heel and picks it up as well, “especially with shoes this big. jesus, why do you even need this? has to be height-fishing.”
you scoffed, “that’s not even a word.”
“well, it should be. just for you, actually.”
“shut up. they’re cute platforms and— ah!” you yelped as you felt your entire body get swept up in the air. her right arm hooked under your lower back, picking you up bridal style with ease, using only one hand, while she held your shoe with her free one.
“woah,” she squeezed your bare thigh, a sly smirk tugging at her lips, “you really are wearing nothing. no wonder you thought i was ogling you.”
“y—you—” you felt all your words melt into goo, growing redder as you stammered, feeling her buff, thick forearms curl against your naked flesh. your brain short-circuited.
“hold on tight,” she added, adjusting you in her grasp to slot you perfectly against her chest, then began walking. “watch my steps for me though. i can carry you, but i sure as hell can’t see where i’m going.”
that snapped you out of your stupor with a small chuckle, nervously wrapping your arms around her neck, “alright, thanks.”
you clung to her, a pleasant silence settling between you both, the only sound filling the background being the clinking of your bangles.
“you’re not that much of a bitch, jingle bells.” she finally spoke, a smug smile on her face.
you breathed out a laugh, “and you’re not a pervert, i guess.”
she chuckled, giving your ass an approving squeeze.
you rolled your eyes, “or maybe you are.”
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* mm.. the dillema.. make it a series or not.. maybe.. maybe not..
disclaimer: this will probably be the last thing i post for now until exam szn gets lighter </3 i gotta lock in this week.. will come back soon with the knight!toph fic i promise!! wish me luck please
"my eyes are up here!" reader core
"where?" toph
