#red drabbles

[fakepoisonivy]

retirement looks good on you

(retired husband!leon x wife! reader)

warnings: nothing. cute fluff. retired leon and wife reader. drabble.

since leon had (finally) recently retired, he has been keeping himself busy. 

he recently bought himself an old truck and had been fixing it up. 

you, had also retired from your career, albeit a few years earlier than he had. you worked part time at a flower shop, just needing a way to spend your time so you aren’t bored. 

you brought home flowers and he brought home car parts. 

it was a beautiful summer day, not too hot but the sun kept you warm and the cool breeze kept you at a relatively nice temperature. you were sitting on the front porch, glass of freshly brew iced tea next to you and a book in your hand. 

but you weren’t reading. 

no, you were watching your husband’s biceps flexing as he worked under the car. he had been working on the engine for a few days now, grunting as he tightened bolts with a wrench that has seen better days. you were enjoying the view—a little too much probably.

but leon, leon knew. oh, he knew what he was doing. 

after all, he had been married to you for 25 years. he had eyes and you weren’t the most subtle. 

like…at all. 

so, if he purposefully wore a white wife beater that stuck to his skin and turned translucent with sweat to expose his firm chest and soft belly…that was just for him to know. 

after staring at him for a while, you decided to be a good wife and bring your husband a drink since he was sweating. 

“honey,” you called out, your footsteps growing closer to where he was still half hidden under the truck. 

leon’s handsome face appeared at the sound of your voice. “yes, my love?” 

“i have some iced tea for you. unsweetened, of course,” you smiled, crouching down in front of him and sitting the glass next to his knee. 

“thanks, sweetheart,” his eyes softened as he reaches for the glass

leon's fingers wrapped around the cold glass, condensation immediately coating his calloused hand. he took one long drink before sighing.

"god, that's good."

"i know," you smiled to yourself. "i made it."

"i figured."

he set the glass down beside him before sliding himself out from beneath the truck with a quiet groan, wiping the back of his wrist across his forehead. a streak of grease decorated his temple.

"you've got something..." you pointed toward your own face.

"yeah?"

"little lower." he rubbed his cheek.

"nope."

"the other side."

another swipe.

you couldn't help laughing.

"what?"

"here."

without thinking, you stepped closer, cupping his jaw between your hands. your thumb brushed away the black smudge near his hairline before smoothing over the rough stubble that had started to grow in.

"there."

his blue eyes stayed on yours.

"...what?"

"you've been staring at me all afternoon."

heat climbed into your cheeks.

"i have not."

he raised an eyebrow.

"you've looked at me maybe..." he pretended to calculate. "...thirty-eight times."

"i wasn't counting."

"i was."

you folded your arms over your chest, trying your best to look offended.

"i was admiring the truck."

"mhm."

"i was."

"so that's why every time i crawled out from underneath it, you forgot to turn the page of your book?"

"..."

"and why you've been sitting on chapter four for almost an hour?"

"...i like chapter four."

a grin slowly spread across leon's face.

"my wife."

"oh, don't start."

"you've got the same look you had when we were twenty-six."

"i do not."

"the one where you think you're being subtle."

"i am subtle."

he actually laughed, the sound warm and effortless.

"no, sweetheart." he stepped closer until there was barely any space left between you. "you've never been subtle."

you rolled your eyes despite the smile tugging at your lips.

"well, maybe if my husband wasn't out here looking like..." you motioned vaguely toward him. "that."

he looked down at himself.

"looking like what?"

"nothing."

he glanced between the sweat-soaked tank top clinging to his chest, the grease on his hands, and his old jeans before looking back at you with the hint of a smirk.

"you mean working?"

"..."

"fixing up my truck?"

"..."

"in my shirt?"

"..."

"you're impossible."

"that's not a no."

you huffed, reaching up to flick the center of his forehead with your finger.

"don't get cocky, kennedy."

"too late."

before you could step away, he caught your wrist with surprising gentleness and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss against your lips.

it was soft.

familiar.

the kind of kiss that came after twenty-five years together, one that didn't need fireworks or stolen moments because they had all the time in the world now.

when he pulled away, you narrowed your eyes.

"...you got grease on my face."

he tilted his head, pretending to inspect his work.

"looks good on you."

"leon."

"what?"

"you owe me."

he hummed, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you back in.

"i can do that."

his second kiss lingered a little longer than the first, leaving you smiling before he'd even stepped away.

"better?"

you sighed dramatically. "...i suppose."

"good."

he reached for his glass of iced tea again, taking another sip before flashing you that stupidly handsome grin.

"thanks for the drink, sweetheart."

you watched him disappear back underneath the truck.

"...you're lucky you're pretty."

from beneath the truck came a muffled laugh.

"still staring?"

"...maybe."

[fakepoisonivy]

katsuki and his spoiled girlfriend

katsuki loved to spoil you. and unfortunately for you (and him) you had gotten used to it

being with katsuki for several years and now engaged to him, you were used to being spoiled.

he loved doing things for you.

he likes feeling helpful. he likes knowing that you spend the money he works for. he likes cooking your cravings at 2am when he needs to be up at 6. he likes carrying all the groceries in. he likes driving you around. he likes when you get all smiley and blushy when he brings home a giant bouquet of flowers. he likes when he buys you anything you’ve been eyeing up—clothes, shoes, digital camera, computer—whatever it is? he’s already bought it.

and the thing is, you’re still not even used to it. the moment you stare at something a little too long in a store, it’s bought by his black card a day later.

blind box? bought the whole set.

jellycat? bought three.

new rings? gold and silver.

new shoes? black and brown because you wear both.

you tell him that you can buy your own stuff and you’ve never seen him get that mad.

(you were put into the mattress that night, covered in hickies and unable to walk the next morning.)

(he made you breakfast in bed and helped stretch your hips.)

he doesn’t even have his card on him most of the time. you have it physically and on apple pay.

he barely uses it. he’ll buy new hero gear or workout clothes and groceries. that’s it.

he started paying for your rent 4 months into dating.

(he knew you were the one.)

it drives you a little bonkers. part of you wants to be independent and take care of yourself but the other part of you—the part that wants to be spoiled—enjoys it. probably too much.

you’ve given up on using your own money. which is kinda nice because you have a nice savings for when the two of you retire.

(or when you magically come home with a cat…or two)

he doesn’t even let you use your money to buy your parents gifts.

(you manage to sneak in gifts for your friends using your account but it magically comes back…)

katsuki does not care. he loves seeing the look on your face when he brings home a little something for you. he has no use for the money besides necessities and maybe a nice something for himself so why not spoil his beautiful girl?

he is right where he wants to be.

[fakepoisonivy]

sukuna and his secretly soft gf

drabble. FLUFFFFF. down bad and soft kuna my fav #sorrynotsorry

you were rough around the edges, dark liner, thrifted sweaters, and black boots that gave you an extra 3 inches.

to the world you were scary. unapproachable. quiet. kept to yourself.

but with sukuna?

you were about as scary as a kitten.

sure you had dyed hair, piercings, tattoos, and black eyeliner but to sukuna—you were just his baby.

you came home to him after a long day, letting yourself into his apartment with a spare key and sprawling on top of him on the couch. he merely grunted, wrapping his (huge) arms around you and rubbing your back.

“rough day?” he grunted, soothing the skin of your back where your bra straps dug in. you nodded, curling into him and nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

or when he slept over at yours, half of your stuffed animals hogging the bed and the other half him. you hugged your trusty shooky plush with his chest pressed to your back as you drooled over your pillow. he woke up with a fluffy penguin in his face.

he grumbled, gently moving the offending plushie away, witnessing first hand when you yelled at him after he threw your stuffed animals on the ground.

yeah, he learned his lesson when you made him sleep on the couch that night.

(he crawled into your bed anyways.)

or when he came over to yours after a late night out with his boys to you on his couch, in his hoodie and bare faced, watching godzilla.

he plopped on top of you, muttering about how you started it without him and bit your shoulder.

“kuna!” you protested, the breath knocked out of you as your 200 lb boyfriend decided to crush you.

“you’re so fucking cute,” he growled, peppering kisses over your face and chest. “wearing my clothes, waiting for me, and watching Godzilla. i’m gonna eat you.”

and then he bit your cheek.

you squealed, attempting to shove his face away. “ow!! stop biting me, dickhead!”

he brushed his nose against your cheek, breathing in the smell of your skincare. “so soft…”

“only for you,” you sighed, accepting your fate to be squished and wrapped your arms around him and playing with his hair.

“damn right.” sukuna muttered, a little tipsy from the alcohol and off you.

he liked you in your makeup—big eyeliner, sharp nose contour, and bleached brows—he liked knowing that to the world, you expressed yourself loudly and scared most of the normies away.

to them, you were scary and unapproachable.

but to him?

you were his girl, his woman, who came home to him after a long day and sought out comfort in his arms.

you will always be a softy to him.

his softy.

a/n: wow i love writing stuff that is so self-indulgent. there will more dont worry…enjoy soft kuna!

[fakepoisonivy]

sukuna has beef with your cat

fem reader. sukuna fluff. domestic sukuna bf. sukuna lowk just oversized cat in my book. drabble!

“woman,” sukuna rasps, red eyes narrowed as he enters the living room.

you look up from your spot on the couch, your maine coon cat sitting in your lap and purring contentedly as you read a book.

“yes dear?” you hummed, one hand petting the soft black fur of your fluffy feline and the other holding your book.

his eyes land on your cat, purring loudly and rubbing his furry face over your chest. his lip peels up in annoyance. “what is that cat doing in your lap?”

“rocket?” you asked, putting your book down on your knees. “he’s cuddling me.”

sukuna scowls, glaring at your companion as if he is a mass murderer.

rocket launcher is a 5 year old maine coon.

the only thing he’s killed is your bank account.

“he knows what he’s doing.”

you blink. “he's a cat.”

“he’s mocking me.”

“he’s purring.”

“exactly.”

as if sensing the attention, rocket lifts his head.

then slowly—deliberately—he kneads his paws into your thigh before curling closer against you. the purring grows louder.

sukuna’s eye twitches. “look at him.”

“i am.”

“he did that on purpose.”

“kuna, he doesn't even know what taxes are.”

“and yet he continues to test me.”

rocket lets out a tiny chirp.

sukuna points an accusing finger.

“there. you heard that.”

“heard what?”

“the disrespect.”

you laughed. and he made another face at the sound.

“are you jealous?”

sukuna scowls, offended at the thought.

“what? you’re just saying shit now, babe. im not jealous of a cat.”

you give him an unimpressed look, not believing a word he says. 
he walks a little closer, still glaring at rocket who had closed his eyes and covered the tip of his nose with his fluffy tail.

“kuna, he’s literally sleeping.”

he pouts a little, sitting down next to you and letting his warm thigh brush against yours.

“but thats my spot.” he grumbles, sulking like a child that got his toy taken away.

you look at him incredulously. “what did you say?”

“nothing!” he crosses his arms over his chest.

“you’re fucking ridiculous.” you rolled your eyes, keeping your hand petting rocket while he slept and picking your book back up—ignoring your sulking manchild of a boyfriend.

he scrolls on his phone for a little bit, man spreading and casually resting his hand on his thigh. even while sukuna tried to be nonchalant, but you could feel him looking at you—or rather—rocket.

he eventually makes a low growl of annoyance, throwing his phone onto the sofa before sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you into his lap.

rocket and all.

you squeak in surprise as you’re ungraciously plopped into sukuna’s lap. rocket makes a meow of protest and sukuna just growls at the cat. rocket chirps in response and settles back down. sukuna makes a sound of contentment, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

“happy now?” you muttered, leaning back into him and tilting your head to the side as you pick up your book once again. he grunts out, nose brushing against the side of your neck as he breathes you in, tightening his hold around your midsection. “ridiculous.” you grumbled, continuing to read with a purring cat in your lap and practically a purring boyfriend behind you.

[fakepoisonivy]

suguru and his small acts of dominance

fem reader. drabble. #softdomgetotalktothewall

suguru was sweet. so sweet it made your teethe ache.

sometimes, it made you doubt that you deserved someone like him. he quickly pushed that down.

he was a natural leader and caretaker, someone you didn’t think you would bag.

you were independent, used to taking care of yourself and others, wondering if you would ever have someone do the same for you.

then suguru became your boyfriend and you realized that now you have him

and he does take care of you. but it’s never like you are incapable of doing it yourself. rather, he is very aware of your capability and leads you gently.

like when you go get ramen one late night at the nearby convenience store. your hair is down and damp from your shower as you slurp up your ramen, nearly entangling the strands with your noodles. suguru gently takes your hair and ties it in a loose bun, just enough to get your hair out of your face.

or when you’re struggling to open a stubborn bottle and he easily takes it out of your hands to open it for you, handing it back and walking away.

or when either of you cook, doesn’t matter who, and he always plates your food first. always. even if he’s starving—he’s plating your’s first.

(he also always manages to plate it perfectly with the right amounts too.)

on hot summer days, he cuts up fresh fruit for you. except they are all cut into little shapes: stars, flowers, and hearts.

you asked him why he does it.

“to be pretty for you,” he shrugs, eating the leftover pieces in his own bowl as he sits down on the other side of the couch.

(you always smile so cutely is the real answer.)

he packs a bento box for you and him on workdays. but, yours always has little notes and cute faces on your onigiri.

(he leaves an encouraging note normally…on the days he’s feeling spicy, he’ll tell you the things he’s gonna do when he gets home that evening.)

he opens every door for you.

he gives you the first and last bite of every dessert.

he lets you try his drinks and will trade his for yours if he sees that you like it more than your own.

(he immediately notices the way your eyes lights up.)

you walk on the inside of the sidewalk with his arm on the small of your back or your arm in the crook of his elbow.

his hands cover the corners of the counters when you walk by because you have a habit of running into them.

he’ll pick up something you dropped.

he’ll get water for you in the middle of the night.

he’ll do matching face masks and braid your hair.

when you’re getting your period, he’ll happily go to the store and get the things your craving.

he loves to come home with a bouquet of flowers to surprise you.

he’ll warm up your towel while you’re in the shower.

when it’s cold out and he knows your feet are freezing, he will guide your feet to his body so he can warm them up.

suguru geto is the best boyfriend and he will also be the best husband (once he puts a ring on your finger.)

[fakepoisonivy]

alpha geto and the sweet omega he likes

fem reader. she’s a cutie. drabble for something i might write in the future…who knows. “little omega” as a nickname.

walk with me. imagine you’re a little omega who’s never really had strong omega urges—most people mistake you for a beta. your scent isn’t very strong nor is it sweet. you smell like clean laundry and a hint of citrus, or like wet pavement after a storm when you’re particularly anxious.

you keep to yourself, having a small group of friends and never really interested in alphas. you find them annoying and pesky and you didn’t have the time for their bullshit—focused on your career and school.

but, maybe you just haven’t found the right one.

and you did.

suguru geto was everything you didn’t know you wanted in an alpha. he was kind, but never a pushover, sweet but teased you back, playful but can be serious.

he smelled perfect. like wet moss in a forest, sea salt, and snake grass. for someone with an extremely picky nose, you were surprised to smell him at a coffee shop on campus.

you saw him while you were nose-deep into your final papers, head snapping up as soon as you smelled his fresh scent under the rich coffee air.

he was standing at the counter, long black hair pulled back from his face in a braid and thin framed glasses perched on the edge of his strong nose while he waited for his coffee. you saw him pause and look up—right at you—and catching your gaze.

your eyes dart back to your computer screen, a soft blush dusting your cheeks as you pretended to type once more, writing gibberish in your google docs. you saw out of the corner of your eye, him getting his coffee and turning to leave.

you sighed, shoulders slumping as a frown tugging on your lips, reaching for your phone to text your friends about this mysterious alpha that caught your attention for once.

then the seat across from you was taken.

“hi,” the alpha said, the same one that caught your attention, as he sat down across from you, an easy smile on his lips.

“hi,” you replied, a little shy now.

“i’m suguru,” he reaches his hand out.

you shake it and tell him your name.

“have you been here before?” he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

“uh, no actually. my friends recommended that this is a good study spot. i’m not normally on this side of campus,” you tell him, half closing your computer screen.

“i see. i live not too far from here so im always studying here,” suguru hums, looking at the stickers on your laptop. “you wanna study sometime together? i know it’s finals but, im down if you are.”

you subtly breathe in his scent again and your shoulders fall from your ears. “yeah, actually. i would, um, really like that.”

you exchange numbers and make a time to study tomorrow. he leaves not too long after, purple eyes lingering on yours until he turns to leave and closing the door to the coffee shop behind him.

you smile giddily to yourself, immediately going to text your friends about the new face you met. suguru looked back one last time to see your smile and he feels a tug at his heart.

this little omega was going to be the death of him.

also, your friends easily find his instagram and fawn over him.

you do too, of course.

your friends also make you follow him, which is follows you back right after.

maybe, you’ll be comfortable enough to be yourself around. omega included.

[fakepoisonivy]

satoru jealous over your switch

satoru recently bought you a nintendo switch because you had been talking about getting one every since tomodachi life came out and were saving up money to buy it for yourself.

your boyfriend is rolling in it so he buys it for you. a switch lite in the turquoise color with a matching case and games to go with it.

(he was mainly sold on buying you it when you said that you would make him in the game.)

(also he likes spoiling you and would rather spend his money on you.)

now he was regretting it.

you were glued to it. playing tomodachi life was fun and he liked to watch you over your shoulder, especially when your miis started dating and the chaos that unfolded with that.

but now?

all of your attention was on this device. the device he bought for you.

and now he was regretting it.

sure you still cuddled and slept together and made breakfast but any other moment? you were glued to it like a little ipad kid.

satoru was jealous.

“baby,” he whined, draping himself in your lap while you sat on the couch.

“yes, toru?” you hummed, not looking up from your screen.

“pay attention to me,” he whined again, trying to knock the device from your hand with his head like a disgruntled cat.

you finally looked down at him, quirking an eyebrow. “we literally went on a date this morning,”

satoru just looked up at you like a kicked puppy.

you groaned and opened your arms for him. he makes a happy noise and immediately wraps his arms around your waist and curls around you, his head resting on your breasts so he can watch you game.

“you’re a child,” you muttered, resting your arms on his shoulders to continue to monitor your miis.

“where are we?” he asked, trying to subtly press kisses on the top of your chest. you smack him in the back of his head.

“here we are,” you showed him. your two miis, perfect replicas of both of you, were sitting at a park talking. somehow, your miis managed dating with minimal effort on your part.

(satoru says that you were meant to date in every lifetime. you don’t disagree with him.)

but, mii satoru was trying to work up the courage to ask your mii to marry him.

and then, right as mii satoru was going to propose…mii leon kennedy started a conversation with you.

real-life satoru’s mouth falls open and he jumps out of your arms. “what! no way! leon fucking ruined it!”

you barked out a laugh before your switch is ripped out of your hands as satoru examines the screen intently. you continued to giggle, amused by his reaction.

“it just wasn’t the right time i guess, babe,” you snorted, wanting your switch back to see mii satoru’s expression.

“this is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, sitting back down next to you and handing the device back. “it was the perfect moment too! sunset, cute location….what the hell.”

you giggled again, “it sounds like you’re relating to him,”

satoru nearly freezes beside you, ice blue eyes wide in surprise. you don’t notice, attention back to your miis and continuing to chuckle to yourself.

good thing you didn’t notice the terrified expression on his face.

it was also a good thing you still haven’t found the ring hiding in his sock drawer.

a/n: guys i want a switch so bad. also i haven’t played tomodachi life (yet anyways…)

[fakepoisonivy]

clingy velcro baby bf choso

fem reader. cute baby boy bf choso. reader wears glasses. he’s the sweetest boy. period centric. drabble.

choso is clingy on a good day.

when you’re on your period? he’s glued to you.

if he could merge your souls and take away your pain? he would. without a doubt in his mind.

you come home from work, exhausted from both your period and having to deal with bullshit. you collapse into your bed, groaning into your pillow, half in pain and tiredness. you should shower, you would feel 100 times better if you did but the thought of standing in a shower and having to move your arms? hell no.

choso comes home from hanging out with yuji and finds you curled up in bed, still in your work clothes. his little eyebrows furrow and he immediately drop the box of pastries onto the floor to stand by your side.

“baby? whats wrong? are you hurt?” he asks, nearly stumbling over his words (and his feet).

you shake your head, rolling onto your back to look up at him. “got my period today at work. ‘m pooped.”

his eyebrows furrow further if possible.

you asked him as a joke one time if he could use his blood manipulation while on your period and you’ve never seen him look so horrified in his life.

(poor baby. you traumatized him so bad after that and he needed to be reminded that he would never hurt you.)

“what do you need, baby girl? a heating pad? food? water? ibuprofen?”

“cho—“

“a change of clothes? me? sweet treat? buldak—“

you shut him up with a kiss, grabbing the nape of his neck and pulling him on top of you, forcing him to pin you down with his body weight.

he whimpers into the kiss, eyes falling shut and his eyebrows relaxing finally.

“you’re not listening, cho,” you pulled back from his lips, eyes stern. he nodded eagerly, his pretty brown eyes solely focused on you now. “hi, baby. can you please get me a change of clothes and a heating pad?”

choso nodded again, eyes narrowing like he’s going into battle and not to get his girlfriend his hoodie and shorts. he stands up and heads to the closet, coming back with your (his) favorite purple hoodie and a pair of boxers. he leaves them next to you with a kiss on your forehead before heading to the bathroom for your heating pad.

you change into the clothes, throwing your clothes on the floor and flopping back onto the bed. he brings back the heating pad, plugging it in and laying it on your lower belly—with another forehead kiss of course.

“anything else, baby?” he asks, leaning over you with such an eager look in his eye.

“i want taco bell,” you murmured, reaching for your glasses and your phone. he grabs them for you, placing your glasses on your nose and unlocks his phone while handing you yours.

“okay, we can get taco bell,” choso replies easily, sliding next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him. you take his phone and put what you want in the cart. he just watches you, rubbing your arm and adjusting the heating pad.

he doesn’t if think about it. doesn’t think if he wouldn’t want taco bell. doesn’t even think about making you order taco bell—no, rather he does it for you and pays.

why wouldn’t he?

over the next few days, he’s at your beck and call. running you a hot shower, making sure your heating pad is on, brushing your hair and tying it up when you get overstimulated, making whatever you want to eat…he does it without thinking.

he even changed your pad and put a fresh one on your underwear while you took a bath.

you were mortified and choso just looked at you with those brown eyes and asked if you needed anything else.

and if you’re in the kitchen making tea? he’s behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist and reaching for your favorite mug.

if you’re in the living room, he’s already wrapped you up in a blanket with your stuffed animal in your lap, ponyo queued on the TV.

the bathroom? he’s sitting on the toilet while watching you do your skincare, already reaching for a fresh pad under the counter.

and he’s always touching you. a hand on your thigh, lingering on your back, lips brushing against your temple.

choso is always like this. it’s just amplified when you’re on your period.

you joked that he’s a performative male, preaching that he would takeaway women’s pain and suffering.

he just blinked up at you, before saying: “well, i would take yours away.”

you blinked back before sighing and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. he didn’t complain.

he was so sweet and genuine that you wanted to eat him sometimes.

choso doesn’t even know what the things he says does to you.

and you will without a doubt show him once your period is done.

(maybe even before too…)