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
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.”
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
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.
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.
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
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
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.
