A/N: Oh yes, it's me again. No, I'm not dead physically. Yet I AM dead one the inside over how much stuff going around on me (Watch me be dead as college rolls around). But THANK YOU to the person who requested this because then I thought, "oh my god screw this I need to write some chubby fanfictions" (maybe that'll improve my AP essays lol). But yeah...Thick people unite! Woo!
Summary: You made the initiative and tried to do some weight training to get rid of your insecurities. After weeks and weeks of leg workouts, your thighs are still plushy as before. But Connor would not stand for his sweetheart to wither over a beautiful trait.
NOTE: This goes to all stories that go to Chubby!Reader. I do not condone or support the common idea of chubby readers always being insecure 24/7 in fanfics. Because hey, there are some thick gals that are confident and strong and they should also be represented in the fanfic community instead of being described as a person that is in so low self-confidence. There are some thick girls out there that are confident as hell with their weight. And it's great! Because who doesn't love some thick thighs!
That being said, have fun with this story!
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36. You did 36 deadlifts, and so far, you feel like you're just going to plop on the floor.
"God I hate leg days..." You muttered to yourself as you walked out of the gym. You wanted to immediately pull up to a drive through and order some hearty food. But you promised yourself and Connor that you would be the better person and get fit. Not because of all of those insecurities, but because of how you wanted to give yourself some good confidence.
The one goal you had when you started this was that you wanted to stop looking like the Pillsbury dough boy and being a plush toy. You wanted to at least have some muscle and definition to your body. And for weeks, you feel the improvement, you especially feel it through your clothes as well.
But it's not like you're going to gain a 6 pack abs under a year. You don't expect yourself to abandon your job and become a powerlifter or bodybuilder. You were satisfied enough that you were getting stronger little by little, going from dough to freshly baked bread.
When you walked past your door to your home, you were happy to see everything wasn't destroyed or of the sort. But your suspicions rose when you asked yourself about Connor.
"Connor?? Are you in the bathroom or something?" You wanted to slap your forehead for saying that. 'Since when do Androids go to the bathroom?!'
Reassuring yourself that he was probably at his work with Hank, you calmly swayed to your bedroom to get a fresh new set of clothes that didn't reek of sweat.
Once you locked your bathroom door, you removed the waist trainer that made your stomach warm through the weather outside. Hearing the velcro satisfying rip made your shoulders and arms grow goosebumps. And as every fiber separated, cool, Detroit air embraced your waist, coated of your hard work.
But damn, didn't you look great.
After practically an hour of treating yourself under a warm shower, you walked out of your steaming bathroom with shorts and a big shirt that was most likely in male size.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you chuckled. From the choice of your sleepwear, you could already sense the smile that Connor would have if he was here. You could already imagine his artificial arms wrapping around your busty waist.
Sure, you always had thoughts of how Connor could do better. You even told him once...
"Connor, please, for all I know there are prettier androids than me in this city. Prettier humans, guaranteed".
Connor looked at you with a stern face. His emotions described 'hurt'. He was hurt. Hurt by how you're viewing yourself. He's proud of you, yes, he's extremely happy how you're pushing yourself every day in the gym you go to. But you, degrading yourself? And disguising it by putting the subject on him? He didn't want to allow that. In his blue blood, he just couldn't allow himself to see you punish your confidence like that.
One person could never truly know the love and affection one could have for their partner. And Connor isn't exactly the expert in human emotions. But when he met you, he felt whole. He felt wholesome. Deep inside, you made him feel like he actually had a heart, that pumped real blood, and real love. All from you, and so for you. Connor always told himself, and you, that the thickness of your physical being represented how much power and love you have for people you care about, He adored every stretch mark. He craved his hands holding your waist. He enjoyed every second he was in your presence and hated every minute of worry outside of your ubiquity.
Needless to say, he loved you regardless of your weight, but at the same time, it was an individual trait that only you held. And by God, he never wanted to let you go.
"I believe what you mean, is that there is no guarantee that there are prettier women than you. No woman can have what you have, (Y/N). No woman, human or not, can have your beautiful curves..."
That night, you two held each other. You would be lying if you said you didn't cry a little. But Connor didn't care, he knew that you cried out of love. He knew from Hank that some people cry from the realization that they are loved. And he sensed that that was you right now. Granted, you crying hurts him in general. But as you give the smallest smile hidden under those tears, he noticed. And he was so happy that night when you two held and kissed each other.
After all that passed through your head, soft tears graced your soft cheeks once again. But you didn't notice a distressed Connor hugging you from behind,
"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" His voice dripped anxiety. His worrisome attitude made you cry even more - because he was caring about you so much right now. You turned away from the mirror and hugged him tightly. Which, accidentally brought you two to the bed, right on top of him. didn't feel any pain, because he always found pleasure in your hugs.
Chuckling to himself, he brought his hands to your soft, plushy thighs.
"Sweetheart, why are you crying?"
"N-Nothing...I just really missed you..." You pouted, reminding yourself of the memories that graced you minutes ago. You smiled through it though, because when you did smile, his almond eyes beamed looking at you and your body.
Turning you over, he laid in front of you, holding your upper thigh, his lips close enough to peacefully grace your lips. His fingers made circles around your thighs, the smooth skin soothing his hard drive.
"You know (Y/N)... you're so soft. Even I cannot comprehend how soft your thighs are. They're so plushy and jiggle-like...~" Connor continued to coo and compliment your thick body and lightly kissing your neck, practically nuzzling it at this point.
Your smile immediately went down.
"I'm...plushy...?"
He nodded, "Yes, is there anything wrong with that?"
You began to get slightly frustrated, "I wanted to work out so I'm not plushy. So that you know...I get strong and have some muscle..." You looked away from Connor, feeling guilty and beginning to get self-conscious again.
"(Y/N), sweetheart, you can still be strong and be plushy. All humans are specifically different. This is how you're different. This is why I love you the most." You looked back at him. You saw those eyes again, those eyes that have shown you love for countless days.
Cuddling into his strong chest, you mumbled yourself off to sleep as Connor whispered sweet nothings to you, holding on tight to your plush as if it was the last night for the both of you.
"I know you're a strong woman, (Y/N), I just love your plush thighs so much."
When you heard that, your heart fluttered, and essentially - your insecurities fluttered away too.
YOU ARE READING
Detroit: Become Human Oneshots
Fanfiction4/9/2020 // // I won't be updating as much as I used to, but I still like D:BH and I'll try my best to update to the fullest!
