spinebreak

[spinebreak]

goku firefighter au

oh goku he is just a sweet boy 

his occupation was destined for him, this is what he’s wanted since he was a child 

now hes doing what he loves (smirk emoji)

he comes home from work, dirt and ash caked on his steel toed work boots and sweat permanently perspired all over him despite the cool weather 

his steps are heavy, his eyes nearly half lidded as he walks up the steps to your sweet little home

the smell of your house alone could have him falling to his knees out of pure joy 

he doesn’t even have enough time to react to that before he sees you

you’re standing in the kitchen, making dinner for the two of you

you’re wearing his shirt of course, hair pulled out of your face messily and your face scrunched up into a pout as you continue to cook 

at the sound of your husband entering your home, you turn to face him

“hi, babe. makin’ dinner.”

now, this happens nearly every day. goku comes home, his wife makes dinner, and hes a happy man. 

but today, for some reason, the sight of his wife knocks the breath out of him more than it usually does 

he drags himself over to you, your back to his chest

he wraps his big, muscled arms around ypur small shoulders, burying his nose in your neck.

“goku, it’s almost done, baby-“

“not why im doin’ this” he mumbles

you pause, confused, yet you let him lean on you

he breathes you in, his eyes closing 

this is everything he could ever want 

this is worth every injury, every singed piece of clothing, every burn 

just to see you in a big tshirt making him dinner

“go sit down, goku. finishing up.” you say, a loving attempt to get him off you

“im in love with you.”

“goku, please-“

“you’re perfect. just for me.”

he buries his face into your shoulder now, his hand sliding over your tummy, squeezing the skin there

he knows you usually push his hands away when he does that, but hes so sleepy and soft and clingy that you can’t bring yourself to 

“what has gotten into you, silly boy?” you ask, fully giggling now

“god, id do anything to hear you laugh like that. what do i have to do to hear that again?” he says, voice so whiny you would think he’s begging for something else

(maybe he is begging for something else, you can’t really tell at this point)

“you’re ridiculous.” you yelp as you feel his nose brush up against your neck

“what i gotta do to hear that again? asked you a question..”

you don’t even know how you manage to respond after a statement like that but you do anyway

“i… i don’t know.. it comes natural with you..” you try, your voice involuntarily pitching higher 

“mm, that’s what i like to hear.” 

you are completely speechless, what on earth has gotten into your sweet boy?

suddenly, he grabs your hips tight before letting go to sit down for dinner

you grab the counter, not because you were about to fall over, but because you are in disbelief of this man 

you worry he might put you into an early grave because of his spontaneous nature

“come sit with me, pretty girl.”

you try to ignore the way that pet name makes you swoon

you bring dinner over, usually he would but you notice how exhausted he looks 

not exhausted enough apparently if he’s being so bold

you set the food down go go to sit next to him

“no, here.” 

he pats his muscled thigh 

“absolutely not. eat your dinner.”

he pouts, (the audacity) his lower lip caught between his teeth 

(and the oscar goes to…your husband!)

“why not?”

“because im not sitting on your lap while we eat dinner.”

“why?”

“because you’re exhausted and nothing that involves me sitting on your lap ever stays that pg with you.”

guilty!

eventually, he eats his dinner and once again he’s a happy man

you eat your dinner too, though he insists on holding your hand under the table 

he is such a physical touch as a love language enjoyer

that is all