Bully!America X Chubby!Reader Part 1

Terrible.
Is what you thought your first day was. It was really just your first day
And people were already picking at you, making fun of you, tripping you,
messing with your things, and plain out hurting you.  To make matters
worse the one person who you thought would be your friend ended
up being the worst bully of them all. You thought you could start over
by changing schools, if so, you thought wrong. It got worse…

__________________________________________________



You groaned into your pillows as you woke up by the sun shining through
your curtains. You sat up and sighed. You hated Mondays. You actually
hated every day you went to school but Mondays were really just bad.
You got out of bed and stood in front of your mirror. Combing your
(H/C) into a high up pony tail you smiled slightly causing your cheeks
to push up, making your (S/C) face look round. You gritted your teeth
and wanted to punch the glass not to see your chubby face but you couldn't.
Your mother would be pissed and tell you that you were crazy, again.
You controlled yourself and walked away from the mirror. You put on some
(fave. Color) baggy pants and (fave. Color) shirt. Putting on your (fave. Kind)
shoes you walked out of your room. Not feeling too hungry you just headed
to your bus stop. All the people there didn't go to your school or were older.
You smiled and waved at the same older woman who sat at the front of the bus.
She was kind and always told you that you were a very nice young girl. That
made you happy in the mornings. She got off just two stops before your school.

You waved at her as she went off to her work. “Fond of strangers are we?”
someone asked you. You turned around on your seat and stared at some ocean
blue eyes. “A-Alfred…” you mumbled. “N-no… I know that lady, I see her every
day. Ms. Peterson is very nice.” You told him quietly as you looked back outside.
He sat next to you and grinned. “W-what do you want?” you asked scooting all
the way you could, but being as chubby as you were your legs were thick enough
to cover one seat so you couldn't scoot much. “Yeah, did she know you were a
gross pig?” he asked. You felt your eyes begin to blur because of tears.
“She… she says… I’m a nice girl…” you hiccup a bit. He grinned
wider.  “Really?” he asked. He looked at you up and down a bit. He quickly
pokes some of your side fat. You turned and faced him. “Don’t do that…. please”
you added the last part quickly covering your stomach with your arms. He shook
his head “why would I? I like to mess with ya…” he said. “Because it bothers me…
and it’s impolite… and touching me without permission is harassment…” you said
lowly. He raised and eye brow. “Why would anyone ever want harass someone like
you?!” he laughed out loud causing some attention to you. You blushed terribly
and started to tear to more. The bus finally stopped
and you quickly got off the bus.


You didn't know what Alfred was doing on that bus, nor did you know if he had
gotten on it on purpose knowing that you were riding it.  All you knew is that
you wanted to cry and go die in a whole somewhere. You ran into the school and
locked yourself in one of the bathroom stalls. You cried and buried your face
into your knees as far as you could pull them to you. You hated your body, hated
the fact that you were chunky. Everyone always made fun of you and you hated it.
Back in middle school the bigger kids picked on the small skinny ones,
you remember because you use to not get picked on because of your
size but now it’s the opposite. The skinny girls picked on you for being
big on width. You wanted to stay hidden in the bathroom but as soon
as the bell rang, your inner pressure of school made
you go to class.  You were afraid. Having Alfred for every class meant hell
throughout the whole day but you wanted to go to school and be a good student
because that’s really all you had.  


Being chubby just gave you a reason for being the smartest you could be.  
At least here they didn't tease you about being a smart ass or teacher’s pet,
just your fat. You sighed as you sat on your seat, lucky all the way to the back.
You stared at the board and wrote down notes. The teacher began talking about
a project and put up a list on the board with the partners. Everyone push and
shoved to look, you didn't. You would wait until someone would complain that
you were their partner or just come over and tell you to do it all. You kept
scribbling down random things when you saw someone sit in front of you. You
raised your gaze to once again see those ocean blue eyes that for a few moments,
on your first day, had brought you comfort. “So smarty ‘fat’ pants. What are we
doing for our history project?” he asked. “I was… thinking of working on the
American Revolution…” you said softly.

“Sounds great.” He said. Those words made you feel a bit better inside.
“I love the American Revolution, anything about America. We will meet at
McDonald's after school to discuss, mean while you plan” he said and tapped
your papers then left to talk to his friends. You looked at him as he left,
a small smile forming on your lips.  You were happy. You took out a blank
piece of paper and started to write down ideas for your project.
You might get along with him a little bit.