#chubby chaser bo:(

[skylarsblue]

⛤Bo Sinclair ~ Fluff Alphabet⛤

Content: Gender Neutral Reader, the occasional mention of past abuse, mentions of his temper. Note: This is very old, in fact, I forgot it existed. But I re-read it, and it still held up well enough for me. Given my silence as of recent, I figured I should post...something. Divider By @v6que

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) Bo’s a bit superficial, admittedly. It’s not something he can really deny, nor does he try to. He’ll readily admit to a few past flings that were insufferable, but pretty. It’s not hard for him to be lured in by plush curves and some simple sweet talking. Deep down, he’s a lonely man with a hard time finding connection. I will say he’s a bit of a chubby chaser, for one. It’s not required but he certainly likes his plushness. In general though, though he’s got vanity, he’s not picky. Pretty is pretty, there are many kinds. Be it a nice ass, a doe eyed gaze, or an alluring voice. 

What’s harder to understand is what he looks for in personality. Again, he won’t be actively looking for a deep, intimate connection on an emotional level. It sort’ve just…happens. He’s not sure how and he probably tries to resist it. But this is where it stops being about what he wants and more so what he needs. He needs someone with a lot of patience, some sternness, and the ability to read between lines. He’s not good at expressing how he really feels, sometimes he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling, so he doesn’t know what he should do about his emotions. That’s where you need to be able to notice and take action for him, even if he bitches about it.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) Bit of a 50/50 here. He’s never thought too hard about it, because he didn’t see a need to. He never planned on getting tied down in any form, and he definitely doesn’t see himself as the fathering type. But, while he’s unaware of it, he has a soft spot for kids somewhere in that hardened shell. Bo just doesn’t know it’s there. Be it of his own blood or a bundle of joy left on his doorstep in a woven basket. At first, he’s terrified. He leaves, he isolates, he panics. But it doesn’t take much more than an innocent giggle and a wide eyed gawk to get him softening. Somewhere in his ribs there’s a child aching for the care he and his brothers never got. He can’t get a do over, but he can prevent it from happening again. He raised his brothers, he loves them beyond words. Being in charge of a baby was basically what he was when Lester was born. Even if it scares him to death, he could be convinced. 

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) Bo will swear up and down he’s no cuddler, and he’s an absolute fucking liar. It’s just hard for him to find a cuddling position that doesn’t feel too restrictive, which is why he thinks he’s not into it. But he’s starved for gentle contact, and he enjoys the rare feeling of safe peace. During the day, you’re only likely to get subtler stuff. Getting to sit across his lap, letting you mess with his hands, hug his arm, etc. 

But at night, no matter how far away on the bed he starts, he ends up in your vicinity. One of his favorite positions, aside from classing spooning, is when he gets to lay on top of you. Between your legs with his head on your sternum, listening to your heart. It’s one of the few times he lets himself stop being on edge, to fully relax. Bonus if you run your nails along his back and shoulders. Hum a lullaby if you feel like it. Best sleep he’ll ever get.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) He doesn’t really take you on dates. Not that he doesn’t like them or anything, he just doesn’t often have the time or energy to take you places. Especially if it’s early on. He’s got trust issues, for the first few years he’s worried you’ll run. But that doesn’t mean it never happens, unlike the case with most slashers, he has the means, money, and the lack of a wanted poster on a bulletin somewhere.

He probably won’t go for anything fancy, it’s not his style and it makes him uncomfortable. He’s a vain humble man, an oxymoron. The town outside of Ambrose has its local diner, its little shops, a bar. These are the typical places he’ll take you. If it’s an anniversary and you show you want something more conventionally romantic, he’ll take you to Baton Rouge or a picnic, depends on your preference.

E = Everything (You are my___ (e.g. my life, my world)

   “My do-over.”

It sounds insulting at first, but that’s not how he means it. Bo has been in a routine his entire life, and every stage, every routine, has always been with big negatives. As a child; he’d act out because of the treatment his parents gave, they’d “discipline” him, he’d do it over again. As a teen; he’d get into trouble, weasel his way out of it, do it over again. 

But what he’s never gotten is an actual restart on life. He’s never gotten to, in his soul, start over. He’s always been carrying all his bad decisions and pain with him. So, when you show up, and give him a break in the pattern, it gives him the ability to get a do-over. Nothing will change on the outside, not immediately anyway. However, on the inside, he feels different. You make him feel like a different man even if his behavior hasn’t changed. 

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) It’s hard to say. He knows his attraction to you is deeper than normal, but the concept of love scares him. It’s a bit too new, a bit too vulnerable. Still, he can’t help but enjoy it. It’s slow to set in, slow to be put in place. He’ll rarely, rarely, say it, and when it finally hits him that his feelings for you aren’t going away, it scares him away. But he comes back. It’ll at least take two years to properly be set, but you’ll see the signs near the end of year one. If you’re observant, that is.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) Bo is all sharp metal and stinging cuts. He’s never been treated gently and his hands show it, both in scars and in his grip. It’s not that he really means to be rough with you, not in a way that’s unenjoyable anyway. You’re obviously in a very different situation than anyone else, so while he knows how much pressure to apply to your throat, or the crease of where your thigh meets your hip, his gentleness is unpracticed. It’s shaky and uncertain. His gentleness comes from inside, allowing you to see him more as himself than the mask he puts on for strangers, or the hardass he pretends to be for the sake of his emotional safety.

It’s in long glances with admiration behind the pupils. In the slope of his shoulders as they come at ease beside you. The hand he rests possessively on your lower back when you’re in the kitchen. It’s in the moments you catch him at his weakest and he doesn’t run away, but to you instead.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) Bo’s not much of the hand holding type. He prefers his hand in your back pocket, around your waist, or you hugging his arm. Still though, every now and then it’s that little bit of contact he needs, without being too much. Usually when driving. He’ll lock your fingers together, feel the skin of your palm press against his. Especially if your hands run cold, he’ll always make a comment about it, blow hot air on the back of it in order to warm your hand up.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) The same as everyone else, really. Likely finding you attractive, another pretty face he’ll have to shoot at. His opinion only changes when he sees how you behave, how the others around you treat you, how you treat him as a stranger. It’ll start to shift. He’s met nice people before, even let a few go because of their situation. Like a single mother looking for gas or a young teen boy on the run from his parents. 

He could justify why he’d let you live, what he doesn’t understand is why he can’t let you go either. Not just because you could tell the cops. But something deeper in him aches at the thought, that long loneliness that he’s been denying for so long.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) He absolutely is a jealous man. As confident as he can be, he hates gawking eyes running over you. He’s possessive, and while you’re not an object, he does feel like he owns you in a certain way. You can have your free will, but he’s stamped his name on your heart, and he intends to put his initials everywhere he can reach. He won’t show it all the time, it’ll start subtly. Cracking his jaw, a glare, a little less southern kindness in his act. 

God forbid someone come onto you though. It’s not jealousy then, he’s enraged at the audacity. He’s a murderer, one with little to no morals and a severe lack of empathy. But he draws the line at you. Doesn’t matter if he’d a hypocrite, if he had behaved in a similar flirtatious way with taken individuals before you. With you, no one gets any leeway. 

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) 50/50 based on time, but most likely him. If your timeline includes heavy resistance on your part, he’ll initiate it. It won’t be sweet, it’ll be a move for power, even if he’s gentle. If your timeline includes you being more willing, and open, then it’ll likely be you. This way, you can make it sweet. Convey the kindness you have to him again in unspoken words, allow him to melt against you for once. It’ll be the only kiss he actually remembers. 

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) Definitely you, and he won’t believe you at first. No matter when you first say it, or how, he’s taken aback. He thinks you’re exaggerating or you’re outright lying. Aside from brotherly love, no one has ever loved him. Not earnestly, not honestly. They may love what he can do, what he can provide, his face. But he knows at the core of his soul, he’s rotten and covered in razor wire. He understands no one wants to hold something that hurts them. But yet here you are, cradling his heart covered in razor blades, letting your blood fall down the arms he leaves kisses on in the dark, when he thinks you’re asleep. 

He’ll say it back after you’ve shown him you mean it. You haven’t walked away, you haven’t hated him, you haven’t dumbed him down to the untalented version of his twin. You’ve stayed, and you’ve cared. He says it softly, almost uncertain if the words can leave his throat. But he means it. 

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?) Coming home to you after a long day and seeing you seem like you’re enjoying yourself. Like you’ve settled into the home, like you’re no longer a prisoner and instead a member of the family. Lester & Vincent were in the same room, chatting, though Vincent silently, and laughing with you. At ease around you like he was, you at ease with them in return. With a warm meal on the stove and a pleasantness in the air. He can see you at your brightest. He swears that day you made the world slow when you looked at him, smiling, beckoning him in on the conversation.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) Usually he does so on dates. Though dates are sparse, you never come home without him spending at least 200$, half of which went to you specifically. Does he bring you a gift home every day? No. But he knows when you deserve a spoiling, and he follows through consistently. He also struggles saying no to things you want, within reason. Suddenly, 200$ seems like a small price in comparison to your joy. Don’t think you get away without a little comment though.

“You’re a real spoiled brat, ya know that? Better thank me, at least”

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?) Bo’s not one for caring about colors. He knows his favorites are black and denim blue, but that’s about it. Still, the colors that seem to invoke emotion in him, that bring you up in his mind? The colors of the sunset. Pinks blending into purples, and eventually a deep blue. It brings him a sense of peace, and it reminds him that it's the end of the day, so he can come home to you. Listen to you rattle off about something, or sit in silence with the aura you bring into the room. Especially when the dipping sun hits your face just right. Every time it happens, it makes his breath catch in his lungs. And every time he wonders how someone so awful as him got someone so celestial as you.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) He’s a Southern man, he’s got a surplus to pull from. A classic “sweetheart”, “hun”, and “baby” are frequent. Sometimes he throws in a “sweet thing”, or thang, if we include the accent. Darling missing the ‘G’ and sugar make an appearance now and then. But he’s also likely to give you at least one fond nickname based on something you two have discussed. 

“Anyone ever tell ya you look like a lil rabbit? Cute lil’ bunny, eh? Oh don’t get shy on me now, you had all that talk a second ago!”

As for ones he enjoys, he prefers them simple, nothing that’s over the top. “Love” & “babe” work best most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for being called “sugar”. One that he pretends to hate but he adores? “Lover boy.” Call him that, trust me.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?) Bo isn’t really for new things anyway, aside from maybe TVs. Even his cars he prefers are old. He’s a pretty firm believer in the “quality back then was better” idea. Still, his heart always goes back to old cars, trucks specifically. He’s a simple man, he wants a simple truck that’ll do its job and last him years. He’ll never understand the hype behind sleek sports cars and shiny leather interiors. 

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) Rain doesn’t do much for him. Unless it’s a heavy storm, he’s gonna do what he needs to do, albeit in a slightly calmer mood. He finds rain calming, even if he’s not super fond of the mess of mud Jonesy tracks in the house. Storms however, especially heavy ones, worry him. It's not that he’s afraid of lightning, and they’re far enough from the water to not have much worry of any flooding. It’s because Lester hates thunder. On these days, he tries to make an excuse to go see his baby brother. When you catch on, don’t comment, but encourage. Lester always appreciates it and it helps you see Bo’s softer side to being a big brother.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) Bo’s self destructive, we know this. He doesn’t cope well and he doesn’t like people giving him advice on how to handle his emotions, even if he needs it desperately. On a rough day, he smokes more, he might crack open a beer, but worst of all? He hides, metaphorically. He gets loud, he snaps, he hurts the feelings of people around him because he’s upset. And apologizing isn’t his forte. The longer he’s with you, the calmer he gets, and the more likely he is to direct his anger out, but not at you and his brothers. Coax him into a rant, while he goes on about his gripes, do small things to make him comfortable. Slip a drink in his hand, sneakily place an ice pack on his sore bruises, gently play with the hair near the nape of his neck. By the end of it all, he’ll be tuckered out. Ready for a little couch nap and maybe some lovin’, if you’re alright with him laying on your lap, that is.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) Bo’s actually the quiet type. Unless he’s angry, he doesn’t say much unprompted. He can carry a conversation though, and he has his subjects that he’ll gush about, you just have to bring it out of him. Aside from rants on cars and some random history facts from his phase as a teenager, he likes to talk about what you bring up. If you’re the talkative type, he enjoys the long conversations with all the topics you seem to pull from thin air. Lighthearted debates and such. But if you’re also the quiet type, he’s more than happy with silent company. He doesn’t need words to be entertained.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) His hobby of fixing up cars, a cigarette, the occasional beer at dinner time. Laying on you at bed time seems to work really well, he goes as limp as a corpse, almost like his limbs are weighted by how relaxed he gets. Petting Jonesy helps, but he only does that if no one’s looking. He had other things that worked, up until someone ruined it for him.

Piano, poetry, and photography were all things he used when he was younger to ease himself. Each time though, criticism and comparison to Vincent killed his passion for it. He could pick these things up again though, should he have someone the encourage him

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) He’s cocky, let’s be honest. He likes to show off his looks, since it's one of the few things he’s always had over his brothers, according to others. He doesn’t flaunt things like his truck or the rings he wears, although he takes pride in his appearance. Best bet he’s proud of having you beside him though. He brags a lot. To the point that the people at the bar he visits are sick of you before they even meet you. “I dunno why the bartender don’t like ya, hun. Just don’t worry bout it, she just don’t know you like I do.”

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) He takes you out to a picnic on the back of his truck, sent a rare prayer to the lord that the weather will match his plan. You’ll probably notice how stiff he is, the tenseness in his muscles is impressive. He’ll drive you two out to a little pasture out of Ambrose, a patch of land surrounded by trees, likely near a large pond or lake. He made sure to do it in Spring, having convinced himself that doing it on the same day he got that first dream would give him better luck. 

He sits with you and slowly relaxes as you coax him out of his shell once more. Like you did all those years ago. Showing what all that barbed wire around his insides is hiding. He’ll get to reminiscing, ensuring to make you laugh. When he stops talking, it worries you. He’s just as worried. He had a speech rehearsed, he forgets it all the second his fingers touch the velvet box in his pocket. Still, Bo will manage to stutter out some paraphrased lines, keeping his gaze down. His confidence is gone, and he feels like he’s five again, begging for the approval he feels he doesn’t deserve.

But then you say yes, you say it with enthusiasm and raw emotion. Suddenly the world has air again and he can bring himself to smile, allowing you a glimpse at his soul when he gets the ring on your hand. The ceremony won’t be anything but a church service in the next town over, in his tux, you in whatever you chose. Only his brothers and Jonesy will be there, but it doesn’t matter to him. As sappy as he feels, it doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) ⛤Middle Finger - Bohnes ⛤Cowboy Casanova - Carrie Underwood ⛤Wrecking Ball - Mother Mother

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) Bo has never seen himself as the type to get married. He’s never considered it really, not until you come along. For a long time, he still doesn’t think about it, until a dream hits him out of nowhere in the Spring and it tips the first domino. Whether his brain put you in a tux or white lace, it doesn’t matter, his heart palpitates all the same. It scares him. So, while the thought is now there, it still takes years for him to actually consider doing it. When he sucks it up and buys a ring, it takes him another five months to actually plan and go through with it.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) He’s not much of an animal person. Jonesy was found by Lester, and Vincent was the one that convinced Bo to let her stay. He still swears he doesn’t like the dog, but he’s brutally beaten a man to death with his bare hands for kicking her. Simply put, if he had to pick, he’d be a dog person. Pitbulls specifically.

[kerokreature]

Some Sinclair Headcannons since I have brain rot

This is for the Sinclair brothers x chubby!reader (gender neutral but with Afab)

CW: Mentions of weight, use of the word fat, body dysmorphia, mentions of eating insecurities

NSFW WARNING, THERE WILL BE NSFW AHEAD

Enjoy

Bo Sinclair

He is 1000% a chubby chaser

This boy likes em thick, it’s the “more of you to love mentality”

He will be so touchy feely, really he will be groping your tummy, running his hands up and down your curves like he’s sculpting a vase (not that Bo is the artistic type)

He wants his face buried between those thighs

He loves running his calloused hands over any stretch marks you may have, brushing over them as he works his way down

He’s going to make sleazy comments the whole time but when he leans in to your ear, his fingers tracing from your neck to your tummy. Hands pausing to grope your softness before his fingers push further to please what waits between your thighs- he almost almost sounds like he’s worshiping you when he says your beautiful and that all of you is his.

He would be so lewd with his teasing, nipping and biting at every stretch mark, softly and then more roughly squeezing at your body, especially to part your thighs for him. He loves when he can take hand fulls

All of you is gorgeous and fucking sexy to him

I Picture bo as the type to be into having his partner wear specific things for him (maybe it’s the control) and he would lose it when you do

He would praise every curve and where he can and can’t see certain things in what you’re wearing

“God Almighty Darlin’ that just looks perfect on you.” “Wow sweetheart, look at those curves.. can’t wait to unwrap them.”

Afab body mention ahead

He would grope you constantly, if you don’t want your chest groped he would back off a slight bit, but he’d want to use them as a pillow.

He’d want to press his fingers into your stomach, just below your navel until it hurt. God would he push on that spot (fertility or no) because that’s especially His

The way he would squeeze your thighs as he parts them. His groping would be especially rough as he holds one up to your chest before digging his fingers right into your core, greedy, starving, only stopping to tease that bundle of nerves so he can wrench more moans from your pretty mouth

Fluff continuation but about insecurities

If you’re insecure about eating in front of him because of your weight/shape etc. he would literally just feed you.

Spoonful by fucking spoonful and he might even praise you and run his hands over whatever it is you’re insecure about for good measure

Your Are His fucking perfect little lover, even if he torments and insults you it’s never ever about any of those insecurities

If he catches you staring in the mirror mentally beating yourself up, you’re going to catch him being soft

Hugging you from behind, gently whispering all the things he loves that you hate, tracing his fingers over you to show just where he means

Doesn’t matter if you think you’re heavy you’re getting pulled into his lap and he’s going to hold you like you’re nothing.

Yeah he’s likely teasing you during, Bo is just insatiable that way

Lester Sinclair

Oh boy he is also absolutely a chubby chaser, this boy is licensed by the damn state to be a chubby chase

He’s a pudge connoisseur one could say

Fuck is he gonna stare, but not rudely. He’s going to look at you like an august sunset. He’s going to gaze at you like you stepped out of a fairy tail. (He might even give Vincent a run for his money there)

He’s shy at first, or maybe less shy more just taking his time, but once your both comfortable he is on you.

When he’s tired after a long hard day you’re his pillow, the moment he’s out of the shower he is cuddling you and touching your skin

Less lewdly then Bo but he will have his hands on every part of you. Kisses pressed to each stretch mark, he’ll have to stop himself a thousand times from getting a bit rough but

God does he want to squeeze and grope and push into all of your plushness, he wants to feel you and trace the beauty that is you, he wants to worship you, praise you

And in the right light you can see he inherited Bo’s possessive streak. The way he pulls you in, eyes moving down your thick frame, the way his crooked grin spreads haphazardly across his face, chin jutting as he runs those work calloused hands over your thighs, that head tilt as his eyes narrow and sharpen. You can tell he’s thinking about how every curve is his.

But god would he still be gentle, agonizingly gentle

I Picture him with an oral fixation also so you’re getting kissed, licked and anything he can get his mouth on is going there

“you taste mighty sweet y/n” “goodness you’re soft, I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you my baby.” Between kisses and nips you can hear him whispering your name.

Afab body mention ahead

Your nipples, always, even if you’re uncomfortable with your chest he’ll coax and whisper to you as he kisses and licks over each mound of flesh before pulling your sensitive buds into his mouth, teeth brushing them but never too hard

Kisses and nips and licks would be trailed down your body, over each stretch mark until he’s parting your thighs, nipping and sucking the flesh once he parts them, teasing his way towards your core.

BOY IS A M U N C H OKAY?

His tongue would trace over that bundle of nerves and he would begin, every fold is claimed by his tongue as he pushes your thighs around his face.

And I mean he wants you to smother him with your thighs, taking you tensing and locking them around his head as a sign he’s treating his lover exactly as they deserve, and god he’s going in for the kill, he wants you trembling and orgasming on his tongue

Fluff continuation but about insecurities

You are perfect in his eyes but he knows how much it hurts when you hate how you look

He would hold you in the mirror, guide your eyes away from where you’re looking at yourself to look into his eyes instead

He’d remind you that you’re perfect to him, his hands carefully touching up and down your ribs to your hips

If you’re insecure about eating he’d softly reassure you, he’d tell you you’re perfect and have nothing to worry about

He’d remind you if anyone said anything he and his brothers would take care of it

He’d coax you with your favorite foods, he might even gently hand feed you

More oral fixation at play, he loves watching you eat, your lips move, he’s wild about it

Vincent Sinclair

Not necessarily a chaser but he adores your form

To him you are the work of Tiziano Vecelli

You are warm and all soft curves, the way your plush form interacts with the bed, with the linens

He draws and paints you regularly, he hangs them in his room, the basement, maybe even in the Museum

He watches, he gazes, at first he doesn’t touch. To him you look so soft and plush and strangely fragile that he could never, he’d ruin you

But when his fingers grace your skin he runs them over you like he’s sculpting you himself, like he’s memorizing every curve and angle, where your ribs curve into your hips, the way your stomach moves under his hand, the way your thighs curve into calf. Each of your fingers, your wrist, the curve of your upper arm and how it becomes bone at the shoulder, your neck, under your chin, your face

His fingers are so delicate as they dip over every curve, hill and valley, over your navel under your stomach, and of course between your thighs

Explores there for an eternity, picturing a thousand sunrises and sunsets as his fingers knead and rub at your inner thighs, pressing into the plush and soft flesh

His hands work over the curve of your ass, fingers dipping in to that crease where it meets your thigh

At points his fingers are so gentle it’s like he’s touching rice paper

He signs sweet things you, a bit hurriedly since he wants his hands on you. “Beautiful” “soft” “work of art” “adore” “mine” “love” nothing long enough to keep his hands away

Afab body mentions ahead

He can’t help but trace his way back up to your chest, his hands massaging the mounds of flesh there, fingers tweaking against your nipples, he’s likely enamored

But he just as quickly makes his way back down, running two fingers over your labia in long broad strokes, delicate and attentive

He’ll part his fingers to push down on either side of that bundle of nerves, tracing circles around it, your moans are like the swell of violin to him he barely dips his fingers inside, finding that spongy spot and pressing before he moves again

He has to feel you under him, all around him, throbbing on him as your thighs wrap his waist. He’s surprisingly rough now, pushing into you with resounding slaps, groping your sides a little less gently, the whole time his eyes bore down into you

He needs you on him just as much, no he doesn’t care if you think you’re heavy he’s placing you up on him himself, guiding your hips rhythmically, his hands tracing up as he gazes at you like you’re a marble statue

You’ll be wracked with orgasms, he needs to see, needs to feel just how your body moves and trembled as you finish, over and over again

Fluff continuation but about insecurities

He refuses to give you the opportunity to be insecure.

Or at least he tried to shut it down before it can happen

There’s so many paintings and sketches and even small carvings of you now, and he doesn’t think anyone should see you in any other way

If he finds you mentally picking yourself apart in the mirror he holds you, removing his mask to remind you that everyone is insecure sometimes as he signs sweet praises to you

If he sees you being insecure about food he’d sit with you through your meals, he wouldn’t look if you didn’t want him to

But he thinks you’re beautiful no matter what you’re doing and he’d let you know.

[jadipose]

Your supermodel gf definitely has a mommy thing... And is a bit of a chubby chaser...

o+h yeah? do+es she like co+mparing her slim bo+d to+ my big so+ft o+ne?

[kur0m1bab3]

A Disgustingly self indulgent blurb ab chubby chaser bokuto:(

Cw: nsfw, minors no peeking, chubby chaser!bokuto, chubby!reader, Gn?(cervix mentioned once), Breeding, size kink, strength kink, Riding, full Nelson,male dacryphiliya, overstimulation, not edited<33

Self control was a word not often used in Bokuto Koutaros vocabulary. Known for his rather impatient, and almost childlike fervor in decision making, he was notoriously known for his self control, or lack there of; But, you seemed to be the only exception.

It wasn’t a secret that bokuto was a big guy, a staggering 6’2 and damn near close to 200 pounds of sheer muscle.To the average person, at first glance he seemed like a beast. To you however, he was just your big teddy bear. Bokuto made it a priority to watch his strength around you, the thought of ever hurting you causing uneasy chills to run down his spine.

When you wanted to play around and rough house with him, he’d take extra precautions, making sure to always toss you onto the couch or bed, or watching how hard he’d teasingly shove you back. However the only time you ever see his resolve truly crumble, was when you were underneath him, begging and crying at the way his tip nudged your cervix.

He tried to watch his strength when fucking you, he really did, but seeing your cute body folded in half under him, Or bouncing cutely in his arms as he shoved his cock into you standing up; awakened a deep primal need in him that he couldn’t satiate.

It always amazes you how bokuto could seemingly pick you up, toss and manipulate your body to however he pleased, all without breaking a sweat or even straining. You weren’t exactly the skinniest in the room. Thick thighs, pudgy stomach, love handles flubby arms, you were definitely not runway material, but that never stopped bokuto, really only adding fuel to his so called “unbreakable” resolve.

The room was hot, stuffy making it hard;painful almost to suck in a proper breath. A furious blush of pink was scattered across bokutos cheeks and nose, trailing down his neck as it kissed splotchy patches of tinged pink onto his chest. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down erratically. He looked almost in pain, but you knew that wasn’t the case with the way his eyes crossed struggling to focus on your moving frame.

whimpers and whines escaped his lips in short, choppy, staccato breaths from the force of your hips repeatedly slamming down against his own. You were just as far gone as he was, a loopy smile decorating your flushed features,tears rolling down your puffy cheeks as you greedily rode his cock.

Bokuto was shaking furiously, hand coming up to cover his mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle his horrendously loud whimpers. A shiver racked through the males body as the sticky wet feeling between his legs, it’s like you were everywhere all at once.

“Kou!” You screeched, finger nails digging into the flesh of his pectorals, the pain causing bokuto to buck up into you, as you cried out at the feeling.

“P-Please y-y/n I ca....I fucking..please cum, please! I-I cant f-fucking take it!” He wailed, tears kissing his waterline rolling down his peach kissed cheeks, as he desperately tried to hold himself back from taking you how he really wanted.

Your gummy walls fluttered around him, the impending orgasm hurling at you fast as you moved your hip erratically mouth falling open to babble mindlessly.

“S-S’so big!” You cried as bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, cock tingling as he tried to hold off dumping his load into you.

“Love you! Love you s’much kou!” You cried. You couldn’t quit pin point what happened, to have you in the current position you were in. The last thing you remembered was riding your boyfriend. So why were you in the air? Why the hell are you so wet between your thighs? Why couldn’t you see straight? Why were your ears ringing?....oh.

“G-God” Bokuto hissed, as he repeatedly slammed you down onto his cock. You couldn’t comprehend what the hell was going on, your body was on fire, vision becoming fuzzy and littered with black spots, you couldn’t speak, only gasp huge tuffs of air as you tried to stay conscious.

“Y-you’re gonna be the fucking- shit - the end of me g-god” bokuto whimpered, head tilted back, as he bared his teeth, drool slipping past his clenched teeth rolling down his chin.

“Gonna fill you up- s’good and full, g-gonna make you all full w-with...holy sh- m-my fucking kids” he rambled as you tried to stay on this current plain of existence. You were reeling from the way he fucked you into and beyond your orgasm, the orgasm never stopping resulting in a sinfully delicious gush of arousal, periodically sputtering from your poor battered gooey walls.

Screams upon heavenly screams left your swollen lips, tears shrouding your vision

Bokutos resolve had broken. To be quit honest it wasn’t as strong as he claimed it was to begin with, he knew deep down that with you, there was no true

Self control.

[torawro]

idk what i liked more: the domesticity , dilf bo, or dilf bo loving on a chubby reader 😩 i vote all three this was so good !!!!2!3&2@2 i was hooked from the first few words honestly i thoroughly enjoyed this 🥴 has me gripping my follicles and curling my toes tryna control myself and any….unseemly noises that might escape my mouth

The Nanny (DILF!! Koutarou Bokuto x Chubby reader)

>>>>>>>DILF ALERT>>>>>>>>

WARNING : Bokuto is literally the hottest dilf EVER.

Bokuto Koutarou was tired.

As a worn-out, retired pro-volleyball player, one would think Koutarou’s life would be lived in luxury, in comfort beyond need.

But as he sat on a bench much too small for his built frame, holding a stuffed ballet bag whilst attempting to calm his crying son, all as Tchaikovsky’s “The Nutcracker” blared through the studio filled with 6-year-old girls and their accompanying parents, Koutarou couldn't help but feel incredibly overwhelmed.

He’d take the pressure of playing the second match of a losing game on national television over this hell any day.

He hated it, yet he stayed….because….he loved it. He would endure the stuffiness and the discomfort, and the occasional request for an autograph if it meant that his daughter got to be happy.

He watched her spinning with her peers, smiling as he watched her brows furrow in cute concentration as the teacher introduced moves that would be in their upcoming recital.

She was truly the spitting image of Koutarou, both of the twins were. They both possessed his wild gold eyes and unruly hair, not to mention their smiles that could light up the whole building.

They looked so much like Koutarou that, back when he was still married to their mother, when the woman would take the twins out without him, she would claim to get odd stares everywhere she went.

So he supposed that he was grateful that they looked so much like him, with how it ended with his ex-wife he could never see her face again and be content, happy, even.

Still, being a single dad was…. hard.. to say the least. He was lucky to have plenty of money saved away from his glory days, but the stress and time crunch he was constantly subjected to by the various weekly sports practices or music lessons or grocery shopping or house-cleaning or literally all of the tasks that were making his hair gray faster than desired, was still palpable.

So it was safe to say that although the man loved his kids and really wouldn’t trade his life for anything, he was exhausted.

But he had no choice, so he continued to watch his daughter twirl about the studio while also attempting to calm his son.

“Excuse me…”

Koutarou’s head turned towards the sound.

You had been sitting beside the crying six-year-old for at least the last five minutes, watching his father struggle between comforting him and watching his sister.

You’d had to work up the nerve to say anything to the intimidating man, but you figured with how pitiful he looked, he’d welcome your help.

“I was just wondering if your son wanted a snack?”

Koutarou just stared at you, his golden eyes practically boring into your soul, making you want to sink back into your skin.

‘God’ you thought, feeling your face getting hot at the man’s attention. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. What weirdo leads with that?...............why is he still staring at me?’

You cleared your throat, snapping Bokuto out of whatever strange daze he’d been in.

He looked down to find his son staring up at you, no longer crying.

Another 30 seconds of silence passed, you sat uncomfortably in your seat as a new set of golden eyes now stared at you, replacing the gaze of his father.

You were about to speak again, to tell the man to forget about it, but as you opened your mouth to apologize, the man finally spoke.

“....Just like that?” he says, looking at this new stranger with an incredulous look on his face. He couldn’t believe that you’d gotten his son to stop crying with a simple question.

“-I’m sorry?”

“Just like that you’re done crying?”

You watched as the boy turned back towards his father, grinning up at the older man before looking at you expectantly. You heard the father sigh before watching a grin overtake his face, practically brightening the whole room as the smile took over his features. You couldn’t help but mentally swoon at the sight of father and son, smiling at you with practically identical grins.

You felt your face getting even warmer as you watched the man’s eyes crinkle. You couldn’t believe how breathtakingly handsome this man was, his salt and pepper stubble shining in the fluorescent lighting as his hulking shoulders slumped forward. Your eyes darted towards one of his massive biceps as his hand reached back to rub the nape of his neck in embarrassment.

“Is it alright if he has one?” you ask.

Koutarou nodded as he thanked God for the angel that he’d just been sent. He thought that the crying would never stop when all it took for the runt to stop crying was a snack from a pretty lady?

Koutarou watched you intently as you asked his son what he wanted, opening a large tote bag you’d had on your lap to let him select his treat. You couldn’t have been older than he’d been when he and his ex had had the twins. The way that you were dressed suggested you were much younger than any of the other parents here, much too young to have kids as old as Bokuto’s.

A sister maybe? Koutarou thought as you handed his son a juice pouch, ruffling his hair and lightly asking him if he was here to watch his sister dance.

Soon, the end of class rolled around and all of the parents began gathering their things to go home. Koutarou, despite desperately wanting to, hadn’t said anything except ‘thank you’ to you, the feeling of exhaustion clouding over the possibility that you found him rude for not engaging in more conversation.

He watched you gather your things, wanting to stop you but not getting the chance as, for some reason, the dance teacher asked for everyone’s attention.

The teacher announced the departure of one of the students who was apparently moving away, telling the class that their friend would no longer be attending dance.

All of the children, Bokuto’s daughter included, yelled and huddled around and hugged their leaving friend, wishing them one last goodbye before they were all dismissed to run back to their parents.

Bokuto watched as the child who was moving away ran up to you, handing you their ballet bag before saying they were going to say goodbye to their friend one last time.

‘Well,’ Bokuto thought, ‘there goes the notion of ever paying her back’ he thought if he’d never see you again, he might as well thank you one last time.

“Oh….” you said, surprised that the man you’d helped earlier was thanking you and wishing you the best in your move, you awkwardly shifted on your feet, wondering if you should just roll with it.

“...actually… I’m just the nanny… not the mom….”

You watched as the older man’s ears reddened. Clear embarrassment coming over his strong features.

“.....Nanny?” Koutarou asked.

You nodded, looking down at your shoes as you wondered to yourself if you truly looked old enough to be a mother. Maybe it was time to invest in some new clothes…. or skin moisturizer?

You couldn’t really blame the man though, your whole life you’d been type-casted as the mother figure by nearly everyone you met. You knew it was because of your appearance, you weren’t thin or fit like most girls your age, but still….. to be practically called a mother by the most attractive man you’d ever seen was….. humbling…. to say the least.

But that wasn’t why Bokuto had assumed you were a mother, he hadn’t even assumed that! He thought you were just an older sister, helping out by picking a sibling up. He didn’t even think of the possibility of you being a nanny!

‘A nanny….’ he thought.

Bokuto had considered getting a nanny several times before. He’d thought that perhaps he’d be able to relax a bit more if he had someone to help him out with the kids. Alas, for some reason he never got one.

“Well…” you offered, trying to ease the air of embarrassment as the attractive man still towered over you, his ears still burning red, “in a couple of days when they move I’ll be out of a gig, so technically I won’t be a nanny then… but I’m still one now.”

“You can be my nanny.” Koutarou’s son said, grabbing your hand with his stubby little fingers and tugging you down to his eyes level.

You laughed.

“You’re too cute. But why would you need a nanny with the amazing daddy you have?” you patted his head again, gigging as he frowned.

It was a good thing that you hadn’t looked up yet, cause all that you’d see was the look of shock written all over Koutarou’s face. Why was his face so red? It must be the embarrassment of thinking you were a mother, right? ….then why was his heart beating so loudly?

It couldn’t have been from the way you looked at his son…... or the way you were positioned on your knees in front of him….. or the way the word daddy fell from your lips….right?

On a whim, without a single thought, Kontarou spoke up.

“I’m actually looking for a nanny.”

You looked up in surprise, extending to full height.

“You are?”

“Yes.” he responded quickly, praying that his son’s excited jumping beside him would be enough to hide the fact he was nervously bounding on the balls of his feet.

“Would you be interested?”

That was how everything had started.

The last couple of months had been a paradise for Koutarou. He finally felt like he could breathe again.

You were a dream, taking care of the kids and the house, leaving him able to actually do things again with his life, spend time with his friends, go to the gym, anything he wanted to do pretty much.

The two of you had decided that you’d be best as a stay-at-home, full-time nanny, having your own room and space at his house. So from the time the kids woke up in the morning to the time they went to bed at night, you’d be there for them.

Now it wasn’t to say that now that you were here Koutarou didn’t spend time with his kids, most days when the kids weren’t in school, the four of you would go out on little “family” excursions, to the aquarium, to the zoo, you name it, the four of you did it.

It also wasn’t to say that you didn’t also have a life of your own. Koutarou was probably the best boss a girl could ask for, he was more than happy to give you whatever days you wanted off, let you go out late with your friends, letting you come and go as you please.

It honestly felt surreal. You were living the dream. And sometimes, despite the guilt that came with it, you’d find yourself wondering if this was how it would be if YOU were the mother of the twins… if YOU were Koutarou’s wife.

At first, these thoughts were few and far between, but after the three-month mark, you found yourself thinking of it more and more.

You would find your eyes lingering across Koutarou’s chest as he cooked pancakes for the four of you on Saturday mornings, his shirtless torso rippling with laughter as the kids recounted kindergarten stories from their week. You found your face warming as you greeted him when he came back from the gym, his arm muscles, thick from years of pro-volleyball and physical training, sweat slicking back his salt and peppered hair.

Over time you noticed how your heart would now thump louder when he walked into the room or as you watched him interact with his kids.

You were ashamed to admit the feelings that you held for your boss were far from professional and anything but innocent.

But while you were getting eaten up with guilt, Koutarou was in a very similar boat.

At first, it was mostly just gratitude that he felt towards you. You truly were his angel, swooping in to take control when he got too tired to answer his son’s question of “why is grass green” for the fifth time or working your child taming magic to put down his gremlin daughter at bedtime.

Slowly, it morphed into something more. He found himself sneaking peeks into the laundry room, watching as your plump form folded over to empty the dryer, your ass barely covered by those flimsy shorts you insisted on wearing around the house, claiming that sweat pants and jeans were ‘just too hot’. He found his eyes locked on your chest as you scrubbed dishes, admiring the way that your tits bounced as you scrubbed away at the greasy pans before handing them to him to dry.

Ashamedly he found himself thinking of you, a girl far too young for him, as he touched himself in the shower after coming home from the gym to find you doing your yoga in his living room, the flow of ice-cold water doing nothing, the only relief coming from spilling his seed down the shower drain with your name on his lips.

He found himself lying awake some nights when you went out with your friends, wondering if you’d finally found a man your own age to take care of you.

Perhaps it was the mundane, domestic aspect of your presence that made the thought of losing you to a younger man so appalling to Koutarou, perhaps in some sick twisted part of Koutarou’s brain, you were his…. the caretaker of his children…….. his.

You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t noticed the tension between you and your boss. Lazy Saturday mornings in the kitchen seemed much more… intimate now. Trips to the grocery store felt electric. Even the outings that the four of you went on together felt like….. More.

People on the streets would compliment you on the kids as if they were your own. They would awe and tell you how precious your family was… and even though sometimes Koutarou would notice the four of you getting strange looks, a woman as young as you with a man as old as himself, the way that you would light up, thanking the strangers for their kinds words, bragging to them about him and the kids, managed to make the negative thoughts melt away.

This was getting dangerous. Both you and Koutarou could sense it.

*******************

“Hi boys…. Don’t mind me, just cleaning up a bit. I brought you some more to drink!” You said cheerfully, setting down the two six-packs on the coffee table in front of the men before beginning to pick up a few of the empty beer bottles adorning the table.

Koutarou was having some of his friends over to watch the Olympics, volleyball of course, and with the kids at school, you had nothing else to do but tend to the group of men, refreshing their food and drink every now and then.

You liked Koutarou’s friends though, so it wasn’t a big deal.

The group of men thanked you before breaking into the new alcohol you’d just brought them.

All of their thoughts were similar,

Bokuto was one lucky bastard to have a pretty little thing like you around for him. They watched shamelessly as your soft body moved around the room, admiring the ways your thighs jiggled. Gazing at you with hungry eyes as you leaned down to pick up more bottles from the coffee table, exposing a perfect view of your tits, squeezed together in a white lacy bra.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the attention. You could feel the way that the men’s eyes were digging into your flesh as you pranced around in a sweet little baby blue sundress.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear this on purpose. You knew what you were doing.

You’d been less than lucky in the man department lately, the guys your age just weren’t looking for what you were. Yeah sometimes they made for a nice fuck, but with the way your sights had been set on your boss lately, they just couldn’t hold your interest, so what was so wrong with flaunting yourself to Koutarou’s friends? They were nice, attractive, and attracted to you. Catching the annoyed attention of your boss wasn’t the mission, just a perk…..right?

Koutarou wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were doing, and perhaps it was the adrenaline of the game mixed with the fact he’d already downed a six-pack to himself but Koutarou found himself extremely annoyed.

Annoyed with the way you were giggling as you made light conversation with his friends, annoyed with the way said friends stared at you as if they were wolves and you were their precious target of a lamb, and most of all annoyed with the way he wasn’t already balls deep in your fat little cunt.

The last straw was when one of the guys asked you to adjust the volume manually on the TV having “lost” the remote. He watched you walk up to the television, mounted on the wall at least three feet above your head. He watched as you stretched your frame, reaching to the volume control. His vision narrowed as he watched the hem of your dress slowly rise, he watched in his peripheral as all of his dirtbag friends stared at the tops of your pillowy thighs.

‘Why the fuck did I mount that TV so high?’ he thought angrily.

He thanked God when you finally cheered out that you’d found the volume, your dress not short enough to expose your ass to them.

He watched as you came back down off of your tippy toes, your butt jiggling as your heels landed on the carpeted floor before you turned and made your way out of the room, promising to come back later with more refreshments, much to the disappointment of all of the attractive ex-volleyball pros in the room.

Koutarou waited for about twenty minutes after you’d left, before he stood, announcing he was going to the bathroom and then to retrieve more beers.

After relieving himself, he went to the kitchen.

As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, the sound of music filled his ears, some old dance-in-the-kitchen song played through the air as your frame came into view, your soft body dancing around as you baked what looked like cookies.

Bokuto just stood and watched, all of his previous frustration melting away as his eyes danced over your face, your eyes closed and your mouth quietly singing along. His gaze fell to your sundress covered ass, the pudge of your thighs deliciously taunting him as you swung your hips in small circles with the music.

He couldn’t help but smile as he noticed that you were wearing the cute little apron that his kids had gotten you to match his own that he used. The aprons had been a father’s day gift, it was a set of his and hers aprons, his displaying the classic “kiss the cook” design and the one you were currently wearing said “don’t mind if I do!” The design was incredibly tacky but the fact you were wearing it filled him with a feeling he’d become far too accustomed to lately.

He wanted, more than anything, to make this scene last forever. To forever keep you close enough to hear your laughs, to see the way your plump cheeks dimpled when you giggled at his lame jokes, he wanted you to stay with the kids…with him.

He walked into the kitchen.

“I see you're having fun.”

Your eyes popped open in surprise. Sometimes you couldn’t believe a man as large as Koutarou could be so stealthy.

“I’m making cookies!” You practically sang as Bokuto retrieved another two six packs from the fridge.

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, turned around to face you, each of his hands occupied with alcohol.

You grinned up at the man, admiring his strong, stubble filled jaw and his warm golden eyes. You closed your eyes for a second, sighing in content as you bathed in his gaze, thinking to yourself how you’d take the attention of Koutarou Bokuto over the sun’s warmth any day.

You sighed, opening your eyes again to find Koutarou smiling back down at you.

“Dance with me Kou…” You requested, gently removing the 6 packs from his hands and leaving them on the counter.

Koutarou watched as you took his hands in yours, your hands were so small and soft compared to his, not to mention much colder.

You hummed as you guided his grasp to your body, dropping his large hands on your hips as you rested your palms on his biceps, giggling quietly as the muscle tensed and relaxed under your fingers.

Koutarou let you lead, although it wasn’t much of a dance and more of just the two of you standing in his kitchen, swaying like an old married couple.

“Not much of a dance….” he mumbled, willing himself to keep his body under control as you pressed up against him, your body swaying to the music.

You laughed.

“Isn’t it nice?”

Bokuto just hummed in response, letting his eyes droop closed as the music continued playing, your bodies moving together as if they were one.

As you danced though, Koutarou couldn’t help but think back to the way you pranced around in front of his friends, how you acted so innocent and lovely as you practically showed them your tits. The same tits that were now pressed up against him as your face laid against his chest. Or how you chose to wear your thinnest, shortest sundress today, knowing the house would be full of 30 year old men who’d like nothing more than to see the skimpy little hem flip up.

And despite concentrating on not… getting excited… Koutarou could feel himself hardening in his pants, a detail you were also gleefully aware of.

“Kou…” you whispered.

The man didn’t look down at you, still swaying back and forth, his fingers gently grasping the fat of your hips.

“Kou….”

The man’s eyes snapped open as he felt your fingers trail from his arms to his chest, your prettily painted nails drawing circles against his right pec.

“Kou…. it’s nice… isn’t it?” You asked quietly.

Koutarou watched as you tilted your head back to look up at him, your half lidded eyes dancing across his face. He watched your lips part as you stared up at him with blown-out pupils. Everything about you was so soft… so warm……. sinful.

“Y-”

A loud honk cut him off, making the both of you jump as your heads turned to look out the front window.

There sat the school bus, opening its door to let out Koutarou’s children, promptly ruining the moment.

You frowned, stepping away from an equally disappointed Koutarou. You looked out the window to find the twins running towards the doorstep, giant smiles on their faces…. They looked just like him…

“Well…” you mumbled, rubbing your palms on your apron, trying to snap yourself out of whatever daze you were in.

“I’d better-”

You turned around to find Koutarou gone, along with the beer that had been sitting on the counter.

Your frown deepened.

The oven beeped and two sets of knocking came from the front door.

You heard the twins outside.

“Miss Y/N we’re home!!!!”

“Let us in!!!”

And just like that you were reminded that this was your job even if you desperately wanted it to be more.

*****************************************************

“Can you pass me the pepper bub?”

“Here doll”

“Thank you”

Bokuto’s kids were truly JUST like their father.

You laughed as you grabbed the pepper away from the chubby little fingers. You couldn’t remember when it had started, but seemingly all of the sudden, Koutarou’s children had begun sprinkling in the endearment their father used towards you when they spoke to you.

They still call you by your name most times, but every now and then they throw in the name just to make you laugh.

They were also just like their father in the way that while they seemed clueless, they really were quite smart when it came to reading people, especially you. So when you had come home an hour ago they immediately noticed your sour mood, no matter how hard you tried to hide it behind your cheerful smiles and tight hugs.

You had in fact gone out earlier, on a spur of the moment date with some guy your friend tried to set you up with.

After the startling wake-up call from Koutarou earlier in the day, you’d decided that what you needed was a good old fashioned date and dick appointment.

Unfortunately, it didn’t help. You returned home worn out and sad. But nevertheless, you still had dinner to cook and kids to take care of so you put on your brave face and hoped that Koutarou’s friends would stay long enough to where the man wouldn't come up for dinner.

To your thankful surprise, the kids and you ate dinner alone before you helped them to bed, reading them a story or two before turning lights out and going back to the kitchen to clean up over a bottle of wine.

Bokuto dragged a hand down his face, he loved his friends but god was he exhausted! The men had finally called it a night and dispersed, leaving Koutarou with a messy ‘man cave’ and a sagging feeling of tiredness in his chest.

As he walked up the stairs, he heard your music once again drifting from the kitchen, causing a sort of deja vu to come over him.

He hadn’t meant to run away earlier, he just didn’t know what to do. Of course when he later watched you return to the house, having no clue where you had been, he knew he’d made the wrong decision with the way you avoided his gaze.

There you were, dancing around the kitchen in that same little blue sundress, but this time with a full glass of white wine.

Just like earlier, your eyes were closed as you moved your hips to the music, your dress swishing, exposing enough skin to make Bokuto feel hot as his cock twitched in interest in his pants.

“Dancing again?” he asked gently, sitting down at the island, trying his best not to startle you.

Your eyes opened to lazily stare at the man, running over the broad expanse of his shoulders. You weren’t drunk……. but you definitely weren’t sober.

After no response, Bokuto asked another question.

“I saw you went out today… ‘d’ya have fun?”

You chuckled, taking a long sip of wine as you recalled the mediocre dick you’d received.

“Not quite.” you mumbled, turning away from Koutarou as you continued to sway.

“Not gonna ask me to dance?” He tried teasing as you set your wine down to begin drying the dishes you’d just washed.

You shrugged.

“Join if you want…” your voice was slightly slurred and Bokuto could tell that this wasn’t your first glass.

He got up, striding over to stand behind your beautiful frame, resting his hands on your waist as he pressed his chest into your back, urging you to relax into him.

“It’s nice isn’t it…?” he whispered in your ear, making your tipsy figure shudder against him, your ass brushing against his crotch as he moved the both of you to the music.

“Koutarou…” you sighed, trying your best to focus your hazy mind on drying.

‘Koutarou?’ Bokuto wondered….’not Kou?....was it because of earlier?’

“Where’d you go today?” he muttered against the shell of your ear.

“Nowhere..” you mumbled absentmindly, “just a stupid date.”

Koutarou’s heart sank…. a date?

“How was he?”

Your eyes widened at Koutarou’s question. Even though it could’ve sounded innocent enough, you knew what he meant… what he wanted to know.

Suddenly you were painfully aware of the feeling of his cock resting on top of your ass, digging into the softness of your lower back. You felt your knees weaken.

“Disappointing.” you whispered, trying to control the beating of your heart.

Bokuto hummed as bent his head down, dragging the tip of his nose behind your ear as his strong arms moved away from your waist to wrap around your body, removing the drying towel from your grasp before moving back down to rock his hips against you.

“Kou….”

The quiet moan of his name falling from your lips confirmed it. You’d been wanting him just as much as he’d been wanting you.

“Yes doll?” he mumbled, turning you around in his arms before pulling you close to resume dancing.

You looked up at him with heavy eyes. His eyes were trained on you, the bright gold burning into your face, making you squirm against his hard body.

Somehow, your feet were moving below you, you knew that you were still dancing but it felt like you were just floating on air, the way Koutarou looked at you made you burn in a way you’d never burned before.

You could feel your cunt leaking, soaking through your pathetic thin panties as you breathed in Kou’s scent, as his heat radiated into you.

You wanted him….needed him.

“Kou…..” you moaned again, already panting as his grip on your body tightened, your softness squirming beneath his fingers. “....daddy…”

Bokuto’s cock twitched as he groaned low in your ear.

“Shit…” he whispered in you ear, his fingers running up under the hem of your dress, poking against the front of your panties, “...you’re so fucking hot doll….”

You gasped, your hands snapping down to grip the counter behind you as you felt his fingers rip away your panties, the soaked flimsy cotton falling to the ground below you.

A high pitched whine escaped you as Koutarou’s thick fingers ran up and down your lips, stopping to play with your slick, taking it on his middle fingers before bringing them up to your mouth.

“Suck….” he ordered.

Without hesitation, your mouth sprang open and you wrapped your tongue around his fingers, embarrassment filling you at the thought of cleaning yourself off of him. You were embarrassed, yet your pussy pulsed, making your body twitch in the position, Koutarou’s muscled arm trapping your hips against his as he massaged your tongue with his fingers.

He slid his finger out of your mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest as you moaned at the loss, watching your spit draw strings to his fingers.

“Such a pretty girl…” He whispered, but taking your jaw with his dry hand.

“...Kou-” your whine was quickly swallowed as his lips finally met yours, his tongue wasting no time in thrusting itself into your mouth, soothing you sounds as he licked into you, tasting your arousal on your tongue.

Your head was spinning, nearly too much to notice the way his dampened fingers trailed their way back down to your pussy, brashly dipping straight back into your cunt, his middle finger tip drawing a circle around your entrance as his thumb pressed into your clit.

You cried into his kiss, your knees buckling.

Koutarou chuckled, wrapping his arm around your back tighter as he pressed you into the counter.

“Kou please….” you panted, your mouth breaking away from his to beg him to hurry up and fuck you.

You wanted it so badly, you didn’t even need prepped. That loser you’d been with earlier had already done that. You weren’t able to orgasm then… all you were able to think about was your boss, taking you in a position much like this one.

“Shhh….”he mumbled, finally pressing his two middle fingers up into you, grinning as you shuddered against him.

“Hmmmm…..” he said, feeling your walls clench around his digits as he curled them into you, his experienced fingers finding your spot within seconds, making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Feels like that boy couldn’t do shit for my baby, you’re still too fucking tight for my cock…”

“Noooo…” you panted, your hips jumping as his fingers curled into your g-spot again, making your toes curl against the hardwood floor of the kitchen. “Need you now….please daddy..”

Koutarou groaned at the name again, his cock leaking in his boxers at the pathetic sounds coming out of your throat.

He wished he had a mirror in the kitchen, wished he could see all of you, he wanted to be able to turn you around against his chest, to bunch your cute little sundress up around your waist and watch his fingers disappear in and out of your swollen pussy.

He flipped you around against his chest, giving himself more leverage as his palm ground against your clit, allowing his fingers to quicken their pace, fucking into you, abandoning the sweet and slow tempo as he began to abuse your spot with each harsh push.

“Shhhhh sweetheart…” Koutarou cooed in your ear, grinding his cock up against your ass, as if promising that time would come soon enough,

“gotta loosen you up for daddy’s cock…”

You moaned at his words, your pussy somehow clenching even harder.

“Daddy…” you panted, twisting your neck to look back into his eyes, “...’m close…”

Bokuto groaned, dropping his face against your neck. He could feel it, your walls getting tighter around his fingers. He wanted you to let go… to show him how badly you wanted him.

“Come on sweetheart…. I want you to feel good for me…” He mumbled, his free hand bunching your dress up further to take one of your nipples between his fingers, pulling on the hard bud, pulling another pathetically high pitched whine from you.

“Daddy…” you breathed, your body shaking as you felt your orgasm getting closer and closer “....hurts….”

Bokuto shushed you again but didn’t stop pulling on your nipple, the burning sensation bleeding through your chest and making you squirm against his hard chest.

And yet somehow, you could feel the pain getting you even closer to your high, a realization that ripped a sob from your chest as you neared the edge.

“So pretty….” he mumbled against your skin… “you gonna cum for daddy?”

“Yes daddy!.....” you cried, your eyes snapping closed as you felt yourself on the edge.

“Ask nicely baby….”

You cried even louder, feeling actual tears welling up in your eyes.

“Please daddy!” “Please what baby?”

“Let me cum daddy….wanna cum…want -p-please lemme cum!” Your words were slurred as Bokuto gazed down at you.

His whole kitchen which used to only be filled with the sound of your old music was now filled with the sounds of frankie valli accompanied now with the loud squelching of your cunt and the slap of his palm against your pussy.

He could hear the ragged patterns of your breaths, telling him that you weren’t lying in how close you were.. How badly you wanted to cum for him.

He was glad that the kid’s room were upstairs of the other side of the house because as soon as he said it,

“Go ahead sweetheart…”

If their rooms had been any closer they’d have run downstairs, frantically asking as to why their father was seemingly killing their beloved nanny.

“shhh…. “ Bokuto soothed against your skin, pulling his fingers out of your pussy before lightly slapping the swollen lips, making your jerk against him as an overstimulated whine came from your mouth.

He couldn’t wait any longer, he could feel his cock pulsing as he bent you over the island counter, sinking down to his knees as he guided your legs further apart and pushed your asscheeks open, revealing your fat little pussy, smeared with your own cum as it twitched with the after effects of your high.

He wanted to taste you directly, shove his tongue into your pathetic little hole and rip another orgasm out of you, but he didn’t think he could wait that long, not with how hard he was.

He needed to be inside of you… now.

“Fuck….” he muttered, watching hungrily as your hole clenched around nothing, he chuckled as he heard you let out a whimper above him.

“How about it sweetheart?” He asked, standing to full height as he dropped his pants around his ankles, his cock springing up to slap his torso.

You gasped at the sound of it. Somehow just by the sound of it you could tell it was big. Definitely bigger than anything you’d ever had before.

“Gonna let me fuck your little pussy for you?”

You nearly died on the spot at the vulgarity of the proposal and yet you couldn't hide the way your body arched against the cold counter, more than ready for anything he was willing to give.

“Yes!... now!” you demanded, making Koutarou laugh behind you.

“Is my pretty little baby getting bossy now? Is your pussy that needy baby?”

You cried against the counter, your feverish forehead pressing up against the granite as if it could clear your lust clouded mind.

“Please Daddy…” you whimpered, sniffling back tears as they continued to gather in your lash line, threatening to fall.

“Shhh.. I got you baby…” Kou assured, guiding his cock towards your core, dragging it through your lips.

‘Fuck’ he thought, you were so wet he didn’t even need you to spit on his dick, and even less so, need lube.

One day though, probably tomorrow, he’d have to have you on your knees, choking on his cock so he could watch you cry. Maybe he’d buy you a toy to sit on while you sucked him off… the thought made him impossibly harder.

“Shit.. “ he cursed, abruptly pulling away from you, causing your head to quickly turn, your eyes wide as you watched him take a step back.

“Shit… sweetheart, I need to find a condom.”

You made him feel so young that he’d almost forgotten, and he knew that the last thing you needed was a baby with someone like him to ruin your life.

He paused when you didn’t respond.

“Wha-” he mumbled as you slinked off of the counter and onto the floor in front of him, your eyes level with his cock.

It was probably the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. It was long and thick, and god his balls were amazing, so heavy…..

Bokuto nearly yelped as your fingers surrounded him, immobilizing him as your lips wrapped around the weeping head of his cock, you fingers brushing down through his pubic hair to cup his balls, pulling an embarrassing whine out of the built man as you squeezed them.

“What are you doing…” he panted, his hands gripping the counter over your head.

You just stared up at him, swallowing him further.

Koutarou nearly choked on air as your blown out pupils stared up at him.

You pulled yourself off of his cock.

“I’m okay daddy…” you whispered, deciding his dick was probably wet enough for you as you folded back over the counter, the cold surface digging into your stomach as your arm reached back behind you, finding and guiding Kou’s cock to your entrance.

“...wanna feel you…”

Koutarou tried. He truly did.

You nearly screamed as he wasted no more time, thrusting his cock into you, not even letting you adjust as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against your clit.

“Fuck!”

Koutarou was ruthless in the pace he set, pounding into you like your pussy owed him money as his hands held onto your body in a vice-like grip, switching from spreading your ass to see the way you sucked him in, to resting on your upper half, one hand pinning your lower back into the counter while the other cradled your throat, bending your body into a pose that made you feel him in your throat.

You prayed that tomorrow you’d be able to walk.

“Fuck sweetheart…” he panted, his breaths lining up with each sound of his balls slapping against your bud. “You feel so good….. so fucking tight….”

Bokuto’s head was spinning at the way you were gripping his cock, your cunt felt so good around him… so soft and warm…. He was embarrassed to say, but you made him feel like he was back in his twenties again, he felt like he was gonna bust after just minutes inside of you.

“Kouuuu….” you whined out, your eyes crossing as the pressure on your throat increased, making the older man lighten his grasp, opting to let his palm migrate from your throat, tangling itself in your hair before pulling your head back that way.

Your cunt clenched at the burn in your scalp, making the two of you moan in unison, Koutarou’s hips speeding up even more.

“You’re such a good girl sweetheart…” Koutarou grunted, his fingers pulling your hair to angle your face within range, allowing him to press your lips together again, capturing all of your desperate little sounds with his mouth as he panted into yours.

“Tell me baby…” He said, his golden eyes burning into yours as you sobbed at a particularly hard thrust, the tip of his cock knocking into your cervix.

“....tell me if any of your little boys can make you feel this good…”

You shook your head frantically, your jaw slack as you felt a line of drool running down your chin.

You’d never felt this good in your life. You didn’t know how, after this, you’d ever go back to fucking anyone but Kou.

“Tell me baby. '' he said, slowing his hips down to a roll, his cock dragging through your insides at a frustrating pace.

“Nooo… only you….. Please daddy….” you choked out between full on sobs, your hips trying and failing to fuck back agaist him, begging him to resume fucking your brains out.

Koutarou chuckled, your answer causing his cock to twitch inside of you.

“That’s right…” he groaned, “gonna ruin you for anyone else…. Gonna make it to where whenever you try to fuck anyone else…. All you’re going to feel is my cock inside of you, yeah?....”

“Yes!” you sobbed. Your thighs shaking as Koutarou finally resumed his brutal onslaught against your walls.

Koutarou was so close….god you made him so close…. Everything about you was so perfect, the fat tears that were rolling down your cheeks as his hips slammed against your ass, the way that he could feel your pillowy thighs shake every time he thrusted into you, the way your fucked out expression stared back at him, looking at him as if he’d hung the stars.

He groaned, feeling his end rising within him.

“Kou….” you whined, your watery eyes snapping back to look at him as you felt his cock still again.

Without a word, Koutarou wrapped his arm around your tits, pulling you back against his chest before doubling down.

“Kou!” you cried as your small pants and gasps turned into full on sobs.

There was something humiliating about the large man fucking you in the middle of the kitchen, forcing you to stand with the strong bicep wrapped around your tits while the other hand continued to grip your hip, using it to guide you on his cock. But all you could do was cry because even though it was, for some reason, embarrassing, it was incredibly hot.

“God…” Bokuto grunted through a clenched jaw. He needed to make you cum, he wanted to feel you cum on his cock before he finally lost it.

“Come on baby…” He mumbled, his lips hot against your ear.

“No!” you gasped, your fingers gripping his wrists as the hand across your chest began pulling at your nipples, that had already become sore after being pushed across the counter so many times as he fucked you into it, and the other hand leaving your hip to reach down between your puffy lips, playing with your clit as his thick forearm pressed itself into your stomach.

Your fingers tried with no avail to stop him, your end rising like a fire inside of your lower abdomen.

“....too much….” you whimpered, your head falling back against Bo’s broad shoulder, giving his the perfect view of your bouncing tits and stomach as he fucked you, as well as giving him the perfect opportunity to latch his mouth onto your neck, his tongue and teeth nipping and licking at your erratic pulse.

“Shhhh…” he cooed “....you’re doing so good baby….so good for me…”

Your senses were completely clouded with the older man, you were so lost you couldn’t even really tell if your feet were touching the ground anymore.

All you could feel was him.

“Mm….gonna cum……can I cum daddy?” you begged, tilting your face towards his, letting him see the absolutely wrecked look on your face.

“Fuck yes baby…whenever you want baby….” he moaned, his thrusts beginnging to shallow out, a clear sign of his impending release. “Cum on my cock…..please...”

It only took a couple more thrusts for you to fall off of that cliff, your body jerking and flailing in Koutaro’s tight grasp as your cunt spasmed on his dick.

He went to pull out to shoot his load onto you, but your broken whimper stopped him.

“No…” you choked out between gasps, still riding the waves of your high, “....in me…. want it in me….”

Bokuto was going to pull out, HE SWEARS.

He was going to pull out but before he knew it, right after those words left your mouth, his cock was buried to the hilt inside of you, spilling himself into your cunt as it milked him dry.

All you could do was moan at the sensation of his cum painting your walls… there was so much….

Bokuto guided the two of you back to the counter before slumping both of you over it, his cock still pressed deep into you, plugging you up, reveling in the aftermath as every few seconds your walls would pulse around him.

He was completely limp against you, his warm breath in your ear as he panted, trying to recover enough to pull out.

You sighed, trying to catch your breath.

‘Fuck’…. You thought. You really did it this time didn’t you. After months of dreaming about him, touching yourself to thoughts of him, fucking other men wishing it was him…. You finally got him.

You heard Koutarou groan as he slowly stood back up, his fingers kneading into your back as he pulled out, leaving you whining at the loss of him, making him chuckle.

“Come on pretty girl…” he said, turning you around his grasp, his hands gripping your ass as he crouched down to pick you up. “Hop up..”

You hopped and unsurprisingly Bokuto lifted you with ease. Something you’d never have expected to find in a man.

He walked you down the hallway to your bedroom and into your bathroom, sitting you on your large bathroom counter, your back resting against the mirror behind you.

You watched Koutarou grin at his ruffled appearance before moving to wet a hand towel to clean you up.

You allowed your eyes to close, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands taking care of you.

But as Koutarou cleaned you, he couldn’t help but feel regret. He didn’t regret what he did, god no! He’d die a happy man if it meant he could do this every day, hold you every day, fuck you every day, take care of you every day.

The only thing he regretted was that he couldn’t do this everyday. You were young… at least 7 six years younger than himself… probably more. You didn’t want to settle down this early in life, be stuck with some washed up old volleyball player and his kids. He knew that eventually you’d have to leave…. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to keep you… he couldn’t.

You deserved more.

After he finished, he laid you down in your bed, thinking that just because your eyes were closed that you were asleep.

He turned to leave.

“Kou?” you whispered.

He turned around to see you stared at him, your brows drawn together in confusion. He was….leaving?

“It’s okay doll…” He soothed, crouching down to brush his fingers across your forehead.

“Stay.”

********************************************

You sighed, admiring the way Koutarou’s broad back muscles flexed as he moved about the kitchen, the morning light illuminating his skin, highlighting the red scratch marks decorating the length of his back.

‘He’ll have to find a shirt before the kids get up…’ you thought to yourself, for now it was fine though, better than fine if it meant you got to continue ogling the man as he stood in the kitchen preparing saturday pancakes.

You slid off of your barstool, your bare feet walking across the hardwood towards the older man. Your body swaying gently to the sound of frank sinatra playing through the kitchen.

Koutarou chuckled as he felt your gentle frame push up against his back, your cute pudgy arms wrapping around his torso, shamelessly groping at his chest as you pressed kisses against his shoulder blades.

“Dance with me Kou…”

Koutarou laughed again

“‘m too old to dance Doll.”

You scoffed.

“You’re barely 32….sounds like an excuse…” you teased.

“Excuse?” Bokuto mused, turning away from the stove, “never.”

He rested his hands on your hips, indulging you as the two of you began to slowly waltz around the room.

You hummed, resting your face on Kou’s chest.

He looked down at you and smiled.

You deserved the world, you deserved to have everything you could ever wish for, you deserved to have kids that loved you, you deserved a husband that adored you, you deserved everything.

As Koutarou stared down at you, he swore…he would give you everything you deserved.

Don’t be shy bestie…. Tell me how you liked it ;)’

[weebsinstash]

Maybe Val is a chubby chaser but is in denial. Like it that "Your not like my other workers and I like that. But the boss has to keep a profile. So I'm going to degrade you like no tomorrow."

Man the chubby reader community is STARVING and it shows. But I'm the same way, I'm just usually too embarrassed to write for it because, well, it just feels really indulgent and makes me feel like, dirty and guilty 😳

But yall i have got all sorts of Val x chubby reader ideas. I change it up based on how im feeling. Sometimes I make him unashamedly horny for all body types (which lowkey is how im HCing Ozzie as the fandom elected Better Valentino), or sometimes I make Reader the only exception (honestly yandere or characters in general who like you so much they basically omit parts of their personality is 👍 good food for me 👍).

I definitely think, though, that there's a bit of tension because of his position and he has this image to keep of being powerful and surrounded by sexy sluts that there are times where he would be very on the downlow about having feelings or being with you because, the company you keep reflects on yourself, and I bet there are definitely people that would shit on him for having a bigger partner, and you know Val, he's vain as fuck.

Fucking Val negging the Reader. He can be mean and tease you, so that when he finally does praise you and tells you you look pretty/handsome, it just feels so good, like you've fought for it and earned it, and you're so grateful to hear it, which is all part of the trap, keeping your confidence down so he can keep you under his thumb

This was originally a generic idea but I like it with the thick angle as well: I had this thought of, Reader living st the porn studio, right, and say Valentino concocts some sort of reason why he needs to start going through Reader's stuff, which is on his property anyways. Say one of his rings or colognes or something expensive of his is missing and he's drunk and accusing nearly anyone who walks by him. So he's going through your things as you watch on in horror when he finds IT: a cute but playfully sexy little item of lingerie. You're stuttering and stammering and he's grinning as you try to explain how, hey, you were talking with Angel and some of the other girls about how confident a person can wear in a pair of sexy underwear and how everyone needs at least one pair, so you bought yourself some lingerie and, hey, why is he giving you that dirty smirk for?

Suddenly he's demanding you put in on and wear it for him 😳 or, he's taking the little idk baby doll slip or whatever it is and turning it in his hands before sneering like "this is little kid shit, now I can REALLY get you something sexy" and next thing you know there's a ribbon wrapped box placed inside your room with a little note about how your vulgar boss is going to be dropping in directly to your room tonight and he wants you to "fix yourself up nice and pretty for him"

Also. God. So. For fun I've thought about a Reader who can travel to different Rings and shit and like. Imagine the drama of Val being on his "shut up i don't actually like you" routine and telling Reader they're like, icky and gross or whatever, and Reader just takes it, but then, Valentino is browsing a dirty magazine smuggled up from the Lust Ring, a magazine owned by Asmodeus himself, and whose picture does he find posing in lingerie for the camera? Yours. Maybe you're even the centerfold, all your curves complimented by nice lingerie and lace and silk

So obviously after he's done beating off to that, he's absolutely pissed that 1. Oh so you're tryna do sex work for someone who's not him huh? And 2. Why are you showing your body to other people before he's gotten to see it? And it was probably just some softcore posing but he's still incensed over it, that "someone else got to you first" and in a fucked up way he probably considers this a theft because "he owns you" and you working for someone else and using your body to make money for someone else is, in his eyes, taking money that would have been his

God. I've also thought of like, what if there wasn't a huge presence of bbw/bbm porn in Hell and Val just decides to turn you into one of his porn stars. Like I've pictured that Val is on set and one of his actors hasn't shown or is sick and here you're popping in, just briefly bringing him a coffee he's asked for when someone points to you and says "what about them? They're cute" and the next thing you know Val is watching you be railed by like 5 hellhounds while the cameras roll and suddenly you're like the biggest "big beautiful" porn star in the Ring of Pride

He's obviously possessive as hell BUT Val is definitely a cuck in the sense that he's a porn producer and he watches people get fucked all the time and I think he would definitely have a fetish for watching his precious little YN get absolutely DESTROYED by some mad dick and pussy, you know I'm right. I can also see him doing it as a punishment, like he catches some guy flirting with you and you're attempting to reciprocate and Val's all "oh so you wanna sleep around huh? Bet" and the next day has a martini in his hand while he watches you get spitroasted

Poor chubby YN is all lonely and horny and all you have is your douchebag creep of a boss constantly cockblocking you and making gross jokes about your body, either demeaning or "compliments" like how he'd like you use your thighs as earmuffs or "it's casual Friday, why are you still wearing clothes? :)"

Like I said.... lots of ideas 👉👈 kind of an embarrassing amount, really 👉👈

[suguruverse]

— HAIKYUU BOYS WITH AN S/O THAT HAS THICK THIGHS

includes - sawamura daichi, ushijima wakatoshi and bokuto koutaro

a/n - hey bbys i hope you enjoy this one with some of the captains <3

↳ SAWAMURA DAICHI

- omg twinsies

- but real talk i feel like daichi would def be a thigh guy and a chubby chaser

- his hands are always on your thighs and also gives an occasional squeeze

- he just likes being close to you

- daichi strikes me as someone who is slightly possessive so he grips your thighs sometimes as a warning

- most of the time though he keeps his hand on your thigh as a wholesome thing and not always sexual

- loves leaving hickeys on the inside of your thighs

- loves biting your thighs as well

- your thighs are literally one of his favourites things about you

- so if you ever feel insecure about them, he’s always right next to you, reassuring you

- loves when you wrap your thighs around him

- carries you around so he can hold your thighs

- pls wear thigh highs he loves them

↳ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

- he secretly loves them so much

- if you have stretch marks on your thighs then he would lightly trace them

- one time he was really stressed about volleyball and you layed him down on your thighs to rest and that mf slept like a baby

- this is when he realised how much he lives for your thighs

- most of the time he just wordlessly lays on your thighs but you don’t mind

- makes you sit in his lap so he can feel your thighs

- rubs your thighs when you’re nervous

- loves how soft your thighs are

- traces small shapes on your thighs

- loves when you wear his jersey bc it gives him a perfect view of your thighs

- smiles to himself whenever you wear clothes that show a little bit of your curves

- his favourite day of his day is when he comes back from a tiring day at practice and he just rests on your lap while you tell him about your day while playing with his hair

↳ BOKUTO KOUTARO

- another chubby chaser

- pillowspillowspillowspillowspillows

- he literally adores your thighs so much ‼️

- another one who likes bite marks and hickey’s on your thighs

- 9/10 times he’s laying on your thighs so that you can play with his hair

- when he saw that tiktok trend when you lay between your s/o thighs, he immediately ran to you

- he falls asleep on your thighs all the time

- bo baby stop drooling

- has probably told you at least 3 times that he would love to die by your thighs

- he loves squishing your thighs

- if you’re on the couch watching tv, he will come and lay on your thighs and have the biggest smile on his face while looking at you

- light kisses on your thighs

- probably licked them bc he was bored

- yall sit in each others laps

- carries you on his shoulders so your thighs are wrapped around his head and he can prove his strength

- pls tell him you love his thighs as well

[nimoy]

bo rhap (& my own participation in twitter queen fandom like this is my fault i understand) absolutely decimated a lot of my passion for queen and freddie which sucks because as a band & fred as a person still mean so much to me but it’s just so frustrating that i still feel so much bitterness and anger towards the people i interacted with cuz truly there were some horrible people on the world wide web . like it was literally so exhausting as a non cishet person have 2 deal w cis/het queen fans every day making trivializing jokes towards fred’s sexuality & his death, the AIDS crisis, his close friends at garden lodge, then theres the whitewashing/racism, the strange fixation so many people had calling fred a chubby chaser (?) & the fatphobia that surrounded it, not to even mention the borhap discourse in general ... man. shit sucked so hard

[torawro]

i lose my BRAINCELLS over pro hero deku GRRSKWKWMMWW he’s so beefy and big i actually need him this isn’t funny 🧍🏾‍♀️aizawa n my baby bo 🥺🥺 also very true! shota is the type who kiss and caress your tummy for hours and hours because he’s just so in love with your entire being and he wants you to feel it to. bo would also do this and in addition make your sit on his lap so he can rub your belly n kiss all over ur neck🥺🥺🥺🥴 hbnghhh i need <33

hinata, tendou, bokuto, deku, all might & aizawa like thick girls and I know that’s cannon i’ll make it cannon

ALL MIGHTTTTT IIII KNOWWWE HE WOULD!!! this ENTIRE line up is just MWAH <3

head empty, only pro hero deku folding you in half against the wall and it’s absolutely light work because he’s the strongest man <3

head empty, only tendou asking you to wear that one sundress because it looks so fucking pretty on you. nobody can fill that damn dress out like you!!

head empty, only Aizawa getting distracted by the TA’s thighs in that skirt while grading Class 1-A’s homework after school

bokuto is CANON to like plump girls. i don’t even—he’d definitely pick you up, too, though 🥺 after the team takes a dub!! arghcalspw just squats and lifts you by your thighs and spins you around 😭

HINATAAAA. i LOVE hinata y’all don’t even KNOW. but he does. i promise you he does. you’re just so squishy and his fingers love to squeeze into you and he loves to wrap himself around you—i—🥴🥴🥴

askgl and sorry i took so long, baby 🥺

[jadipose]

You should definitely be up front about it. Like, it's the first thing they're gonna notice when they see you. And, I mean, wouldn't a chubby chaser be good for you? They DO have your kinks...

I mean, yes in some ways, no+ in o+thers. I do+n't want so+meo+ne who+ o+nly likes me fo+r my fat, I need so+meo+ne I can co+me to+ trust and who understands me. My current partner, actually, is great, she's not into feedism but practically every o+ther aspect o+f o+ur lives align. We're bo+th huge co+o+king nerds, we bo+th lo+ve spicy fo+o+d, we bo+th like making o+ut and talking mo+re than sex and we bo+th feel the need to+ be up fro+nt and ho+nest with each o+ther.