this is so cute i’m gonna die. okok it’s short and sweet bc i haven’t written in forever but here it goes💗💗 also sorry if this isn't the best/isnt what ur asking for, im suuuuper rusty </3
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the past few months had been stressful on mike, to say the least. he’d gone from being a mall security guard, to almost losing abby, to dealing with haunted animatronics at his new haunted job, and then to being a normal, functioning human being with a 9-5 day job.
it was an adjustment period for him. during his recovery time, he’d started to gain a little weight, as his desk job kept him from moving around half as much. he also found comfort in food during the healing process, which was a blessing and a curse. in one way, it was wonderful. it meant he was healing. he could have an appetite again without thinking about the blood pooling around vanessa’s wound. he could go to dinner without getting random panic attacks just from simply being with approximaty of freddy’s. on the other hand, he was noticeably chunkier than he’d been in the beginning.
he commonly found himself staring in the mirror, holding the slight excess flesh on his stomach with a frown. he didn’t understand, how did he let himself go as much as he had? of course, as mentioned, the answer was obvious and completely valid, but that didn’t keep him from dissecting every part of his body, pinpointing every “imperfection”.
yes, imperfection. that’s what he called them, but to you, his partner of a year now, they were just things that made you love him even more. from the scars from the big fight against spring trap, to the scruff that covered his face, all the way down to the ‘dad bod’ (that’s what you called it, he didn’t understand how something called a dad bod would be attractive), it was all perfection.
one particular day involved him attempting to fit into a pair of pants he hadn't worn in forever. they were over three years old, and of course his body had changed over that period of time. he stared in the mirror, struggling to even get the jeans over his thighs. how on earth had he gained so much? he thought to himself.
it was at this moment that you walked in, simply to grab some laundry, to seeing your boyfriend struggle in his pants with an upset look on his face. "you ok?" you asked softly, noticing the upset look on his face,
"yeah.. yeah, I'm ok," he responded, but clearly, he wasn't. you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you placed your chin onto his shoulder, a warm smile on your lips. "you look so yummy," you hummed out with a smile.
it was no secret to you that mike struggled, which is why when you noticed the jeans pooled around the middle of his legs, you knew exactly what was going on. your hands ran up and down his body, gently massaging all of the spots he hated so much. "you're so perfect for me, mike," you whispered. "from your perfect curls," your hands moved up to his hair, moving down to caress his cheeks, "to your perfect cheeks," your hands now went down to his chest, his stomach. "to your perfect physique, you are so perfect to me."
and with that, mike felt a blush cross his cheeks, something tearing at the strings of his heart. vulnerability usually scared him, but with you, it was comfortable. as your hands traveled down his body, the warmth continued to cross over this body. as you pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked away, mike no longer felt the need to uncomfortably force himself into his jeans. no, you loved him, exactly as he was.
he gave up on the jeans, changing into his favorite pair that he always wore, and with that, the two of you got ready to go pick up dinner with abby.
you would always be the one that could bring him up, even in the absolute trenches, his sunshine against his moon.
