#raccoon!reader

[invincibledc]

RACCOON!READER X PLATONIC!ROBINS AU BATBOYS HEADCANONS/IMAGINES

Damian has once took you to school with him. You had a hoodie with your tail wrapped around your waist. Imagine a 14 years old holding hands with a kid that looks no younger than at least 8-7, hissing at kids. Damian almost got caught til you hide in his bag.. which you oddly fit in well.

Jason who holds you like a newborn baby, you munch off the crackers with a wide smile. Jason felt his heart melt a lot, feeling his big brother instincts come in and tickle your chubby belly. You giggle with small little chirps and boy did Jason not let anyone hold you for hours.

Tim who got accused of looking up weird things, getting a lecture about his search history as Tim was bewildered and yells out “I didn’t search that!” “Then who did?” Bruce says as Tim looks around. That’s when he sees you upstairs grabbing the railings as a sneaky look riddles on your face. “You.” He mouths with anger as you run off. Jason had to take the blame so you wouldn’t be found.

Dick who does a small fashion show with you, making you dress in clothes you may like or not like despite Damian being the one who mostly gives you clothes. Dick rubs his cheek against your chubby one. “So cute!” He took multiple photos, getting all the angles as you stood there thinking about salty crackers. You did this for the crackers.

Tim and Damian educating you in their favorite cartoons, games, movies, and comic books. Your speech started to get a little better, only a little. But it’s worth it!

Dick and Jason teaching you how to cook incase one of them or all have to go on patrol and leave you. But when you burnt yourself, globs of tears falling off of your face, ears flatten. The two older brothers felt their heart crack and immediately banned you from cooking. Forget cooking, you get all the crackers and pizza you can dream off. Dick was about to cry at how you were crying as Jason patched up your hand.

The robins who play peek-a-boo with you, you have the mental capacity of a young toddler. So they’re glad you can at least be entertained easily.

At the Titans towers, The team is gushing at how you cling to the robin of the team. Robin smirks proudly as he shows you off as if you are simba. Praise the raccoon!

Jason who reads you bedtime stories, but shhh don’t tell the guys that he’s becoming soft around you.

Damian who has told Jon about you, Jon once seen you and wanted to pinch your chubby cheeks! As he flew at you at max speed with bright eyes, he got stopped by Damian’s glare and him holding out kryptonite. Yeah Jon had to hold back his cute aggression as he just pets you. Your fluffy raccoon tail wagging around with soft chirps.

You always climb onto Dick, always using your small nail like claws. Clawing him like a cat as dick yelps before he smiled despite the pain. At least you place your head onto his shoulder.

The robins love you dearly! How could they ever leave you back into the cruel streets of Gotham.

And the only people who don’t know is Bruce. Alfred has already known about you when you snuck last night into the kitchen to find tea and biscuits. It was a trap! You swore it was, but the tea was so lovely made by this elder guy who smiles at your new manners when eating.

[ambiguous-avery]

Stealth Means STFU

Soldier Boy x fem!Raccoon!Reader | WC: 4786

Summary: You’re Vought’s dirty little secret. A Supe they couldn’t market. Too sneaky, too scrappy, too unpredictable to slap on a billboard. And he used to be Vought’s poster boy, embodying everything you weren’t. Something, something opposites attract, right?

Tags/Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, PWP (Plot? What Plot?), reader is AFAB, hate-sex (or at least antagonistic fucking), vaginal fingering, unprotected P in V sex (make safe decisions, friends), Soldier Boy being himself, femme nicknames (sweetheart, good girl),  forced proximity, enemies to lovers, no use of Y/N

A/N: I gotta be up front about this. I have never watched The Boys. Everything I know about the show and Soldier Boy is what I’ve read in fanfic and bothered @jollyhunter and @maddie0101 about. I just wanted to write some smut and practice dirty talk, and I accidentally fell in love with this reader character. Huge shoutout to @jollyhunter, @my-stories-vault, and @bettystonewell for beta reading this for me and making sure I didn’t mess up SB too much 💜💜💜

Your plan had been perfect right up until he showed up.

The USB was warm in your pocket, full of blackmail. Dirty money trails. Recorded conversations. And one very incriminating signature on an illegal Supe enhancement contract. Three dead guards were cooling behind you, and one was left unconscious and zip-tied underneath a lab table. No alarms. No witnesses. Clean.

Just the way Vought liked it when they pretended you didn’t exist.

You had hoisted yourself halfway into the vent when none other than America’s Asshole stomped into the room looking like a goddamn war crime in spandex. There were no less than two undignified thuds of bodies hitting the ground before the entire office was bathed in red lights and alarms. You scowled, dropping down from the vent into the chaos.

And there he was, grinning from ear to ear like he hadn’t just set off every alert in the building.

“I had it handled, you fossilized fuckstick!” you hissed, glaring at him through the strobing red lights. The alarms were deafening, echoing off the walls like a death knell for your perfectly clean job. Why the fuck had Butcher saddled you with him? Tactical pairing, your ass. 

“Keep it clean. Get in, get out. Minimal noise,” Butcher had said. So, clearly, the best decision was to drop the most volatile asshole in the country right on top of your exit strategy. 

“What happened to my twenty minutes?”

“Had to speed things up,” Soldier Boy replied with an insufferable smirk. “Got bored waiting around while you played spy games.” You were pretty sure your eye twitched. Actually twitched at the sheer audacity of him.

“Speed things up? You set off the fucking lockdown protocol! The goal of this entire mission was to be subtle!”

“Being subtle’s for pussies. Could’ve had this mission done an hour ago if I’d been running point.”

“Yeah, well, congrats on turning a perfectly clean, covert operation into a goddamn light show,” you snapped before cursing under your breath and yanking a dead guard’s keycard from his belt. The sound of thundering boots drew closer. “Now we’re both fucked.” He scowled.

“Speak for yourself, sweetheart.” He adjusted his shield like it weighed nothing. “I don’t get fucked. I do the fucking.”

“Jesus Christ, can you not go five seconds without talking about your dick?” The footsteps were getting closer, and you could hear the radio chatter now, security coordinating a sweep. “Extraction’s burned now. We’re boxed in.”

“Then we fight our way out.”

“There are more options than just fighting and fucking. You might be bulletproof, but not all of us are made of Kevlar and bad decisions, dumbass.”

The vents were a no-go with the lockdown active, and standing here trading barbs with bargain-bin-Captain-America wasn’t exactly helping the situation. You ran through your mental map of the building. The windows were reinforced, so breaking through them wasn’t a great option. And even if you used the patriotic pain in your ass as a human wrecking ball, you were up on the twelfth floor, and you weren’t about to count on him to catch you on the way down. With a roll of your eyes and a half growl, you grabbed the front of his uniform with one hand and yanked him around the corner and into the nearest door with you.

He was a mountain of a man, and if he really didn’t want to go somewhere, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done to move him. But he let you shove him through the doorway without protest. The door slammed shut behind you both, and you immediately realized that you had made a mistake. This wasn’t an office or another lab like you had expected. On the floor above or below your current one, it would’ve been. But on this one, it was a supply closet. The kind that wasn’t meant for two people to be crammed into.

“Real fuckin’ tactical,” Soldier Boy muttered, his chest brushing against your shoulders as he shifted in the small space. “Your big escape plan is to hide behind some mops?”

“My big escape plan was to be gone before anyone knew I was here,” you hissed, pressing your ear against the door and listening. “But someone had to come in acting like he’s got the biggest dick to swing around.”

“I do have the biggest dick.” You rolled your eyes so hard that it almost hurt.

“Your ego really that fragile?”

“Nothin’ fragile about me, sweetheart,” he replied, his breath hot against your neck as he shifted closer in the confined space. The closet was barely big enough for a janitor and his supplies, let alone you and six feet of American propaganda.

The heavy footfalls of security personnel thundered past the door. You held your breath, pressing yourself against the door to try and put as much distance between your bodies as possible. Granted, it wasn’t much. His shield dug uncomfortably into your hip.

“Can you move that thing?” you whispered, gesturing to the shield before you remembered that you were in the dark. And while you had no problems seeing in low-light or dark environments, not everyone had that luxury.

“Which thing?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in the darkness.

“Your shield, you narcissistic jackass.”

In an uncharacteristically kind gesture, he adjusted it as you asked but somehow ended up even closer to you, his chest now flush against your back. The heat of him seeped through your tactical gear, and you tried to ignore how solid he felt behind you. You strained to listen for any footsteps that weren’t drowned out by the wailing alarm.

“Hear that?” Soldier Boy murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear it. “That’s the sound of your perfect little mission going to shit.”

“Because of you,” you whispered back harshly. “I was doing just fine before you came along.” You tried to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go in the cramped space. The shelves dug into your side, and his body heat was becoming increasingly distracting.

“Sure you were, sweetheart.” His voice had dropped to a low rumble that you could feel vibrate through your back where he was pressed against you, and his tone was just condescending enough to raise your hackles. If you had to spend much longer in this closet with him, something was going to break. And you had the disconcerting feeling that it was going to be you. You tensed as another set of footsteps passed by the door, these ones slower and more methodical. A team leader, probably. You held your breath until they moved on.

“How long are we gonna play hide and seek in this closet?” he whispered against your ear, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Feel free to leave anytime,” you said, unable to keep your irritation out of your voice. His responding laugh was barely audible, and you felt it as a soft exhale against your neck rather than hearing it. It sent an involuntary shiver through you. Soldier Boy noticed.

“And miss seeing you squirm? Not a chance.” You frowned and dug your elbow into a spot between his ribs. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even budge. All it earned you was a sore elbow and an infuriating smirk.

“I’m not squirming.”

“Yeah you are.” His hand came to rest on your hip, and you froze. “You’re doing it right now.”

The touch was casual. Almost dismissive. But it sent electricity up your spine regardless. You told yourself that it was just irritation. That every nerve ending was keyed up on adrenaline, and that’s why your breath caught. It definitely wasn’t the warm press of his palm through your tactical gear. Or how his fingers seemed to fit perfectly into the curve of your waist.

“Get your hand off me,” you growled, but there wasn’t as much bite in your voice that you had intended.

“Make me.” The challenge hung in the air between you, his breath hot against your ear. You swallowed hard and turned to face him in the dark, a mistake that only brought you chest to chest with him. His face was inches from yours. Close enough that you could make out the sharp line of his jaw even in the darkness. Close enough to see the way his eyes had adjusted to find yours.

“Careful what you wish for,” you grumbled, your hand instinctively moving to the knife at your thigh. Soldier Boy’s free hand caught your wrist before the blade cleared its sheath.

“Tsk, tsk. And here I thought we were just starting to get along.” His grip was firm but not painful, his thumb brushing over your pulse point in a way that made your heart skip. You hated that he could probably feel it racing.

“I’m not here to get along.”

“No shit. You’re here to dig through trash and steal secrets.”

“And you’re here to fuck up my job and wave your dick around like it’s a goddamn flag.”

“Funny. Thought you liked the view,” he retorted. You yanked your wrist, but his grip was firm.

“I like my jobs clean. You’re a walking disaster.”

“Then stop looking at me like you want to crawl into the wreckage.”

You lifted your chin to lock glares with him. Something shifted in the air between you. The tension morphed from hostility to something equally as dangerous but far more primal. You were acutely aware of every point of contact between the two of you. His hand on your waist. His chest against yours. His thigh pressed between your legs. You had eyes and a morbid curiosity about whether a century’s worth of conquests had translated into anything useful between the sheets. Sure, he was a certified clusterfuck, but he looked like sin and talked like he’d invented it.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you said, voice low and challenging. Soldier Boy’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, and his smile flashed white in the dark.

“‘Cause I’ll ruin you for any other motherfucker out there. And you’ll say thank you after.”

“Try me,” you breathed, the words slipping out against your better judgement.

The air between you crackled with electricity, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, he released your wrist only to slide his hand up your arm and over your shoulder before finally coming to rest at the nape of your neck. His fingers tangled in your hair at the base of your neck, his grip firm but not painful.

“Last chance to back out,” he warned, surprising you with just how soft his voice had gone.

You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve scowled and pushed him away without a second thought and laughed at the chance to turn him down. You should’ve reminded him that you were professionals on a mission, not a pair of teenagers playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. But instead, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your hands resting flat against his chest,

“I don’t back down,” you murmured haughtily.

That was all the invitation he needed. His mouth crashed against yours, hard and demanding. All teeth and tongue and barely restrained hunger. You kissed him back with equal fervor, pouring all your frustration and anger into the press of your lips against his. It wasn’t gentle or romantic. It was a battle. It was about dominance. It was about proving a point.

You bit his lower lip hard enough that, if he were any regular person, you would’ve drawn blood. He growled against your mouth, pressing you harder against the door. His hands were everywhere – tangling in your hair, gripping your waist, and sliding beneath your tactical vest to find skin.

You fought back just as fiercely, yanking at his uniform and raking your nails over his shoulders. While you were by no means strong enough to even hope to leave marks on him, you were still going to try your damndest. He groaned against you, and the sound sent heat pooling low in your belly.

“Thought you had places to be,” you panted against his mouth as his hands found the zipper of your tactical vest.

“Changed my mind.” His voice was all gravel as he dragged the zipper down. “This seems more interesting.” You bit back a moan as his mouth moved to your now-exposed neck, his beard scraping roughly against your pulse point. The rational voice in your head made one last desperate attempt to remind you that this was insane, but it was silenced when his thigh pressed harder between your legs, creating a friction that made your head fall back against the door.

“I still hate you,” you whispered, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling hard enough that he had to feel it. He chuckled darkly against your skin.

“Good. Hate me harder.”

His lips were hot against yours again, rough and domineering in a way that sent electricity sparking down your spine. Your hands found the buckle of his belt and fumbled with it in the darkness while he worked at the fastenings of your pants. You gasped as he found bare skin, calloused fingers tracing patterns that made you arch against him. You could feel him, hard and heavy beneath his own uniform, the promise of what he could do to you making your pulse race faster beneath your skin.

“This is a terrible idea,” you breathed against his mouth, even as you pushed your hips into his touch. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, teasing along the edge before finally dipping lower to find you already wet for him.

“Fuck,” he growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he slipped one thick finger into you. “For someone who hates me, your body seems pretty fuckin’ happy to see me.”

“You’re too fucking full of yourself.”

“I think you’d rather be full of me.” He added a second finger and curled them in just the right way that had your eyes fluttering shut. “Look at you. Two fingers in this needy pussy and you’re a fuckin’ kitten.”

“You’re prettier when you shut the fuck up,” you hissed, though the words lost their bite as they slipped into a moan as his thumb circled your clit. 

His knowing smile was wolfish in the dark as he curled his fingers in a way that would’ve had you whimpering if you weren’t trying to stay quiet. His fingers worked inside you with practiced precision, like he’d been studying your body for years instead of minutes. Each stroke, each curl of his fingers had you biting your lip to keep quiet. The closet was impossibly hot, the air thick with tension and desire. His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh through his uniform.

“Fuck, you’re tight. Wonder if you can take all of me.”

“Fuck you,” you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper as his thumb continued drawing torturous circles around your clit.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart. But not until you come around my fingers first.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his thumb pressed harder against your clit, and his fingers pulsed against that sensitive spot inside you. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and you gripped his shoulders harder, digging into the fabric of his uniform as you fought to keep your knees from buckling beneath you. “That’s it,” he murmured against your ear, his voice a low rumble as he steadied you with his free hand. “Stop fighting and just fuckin’ take it.”

You wanted to snap back at him. To tell him exactly where he could shove his condescending tone, but all that came out was a breathy whimper as he shoved his fingers deeper. The rough fabric of his fingerless gloves scraped against your sensitive skin in a way that made your back arch involuntarily against the door. He hadn’t bothered to pull those off, and you were probably making a mess of them. Shit, why was that hot?

You dug your nails into his shoulder and barely kept yourself from crying out as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear. The last thing you needed was to alert security of your hiding spot because you couldn’t keep quiet while America’s biggest asshole finger-fucked you in a supply closet. The tension coiling in your belly was becoming unbearable, every nerve ending on fire as he worked you closer to the edge.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he growled, his free hand sliding from your waist to your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. “Acting all high and mighty, but you want this just as bad as I do.”

“Shut up,” you hissed back. “Don’t ruin this by talking.” He chuckled, low and dark.

“Make me.”

You grabbed his face with both hands and crashed your lips against his. His fingers curled inside you in response, and you felt your knees give out beneath you. But he kept you upright without missing a beat. You moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss as the pressure built within you. The world narrowed down to just this – his fingers inside you, his mouth against yours, and the feeling of the solid door at your back.

When you came, it was with a shudder that ran through your entire body. Your walls clenched around his fingers, and you sank your teeth into his lower lip again to muffle your cry. He groaned against you, fingers still working you through your orgasm until you were left trembling.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Good girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” you panted, even as a shiver ran through you at the words. His fingers slipped out of you, and you immediately missed the fullness of them.

“Why not? Sure sounded like one with my fingers stuffed in your cunt.” His voice was a low rumble as he brought his fingers to his mouth. You watched, transfixed, as he licked them clean with a groan that stoked the fire in you even higher. The alarm still blared outside the door, a distant reminder that you were still in danger. Still in the middle of a mission gone wrong. But all you could focus on was the way Soldier Boy was looking at you in the dim light. Like he wanted to devour you whole. Though, the satisfied smirk on his face still made you want to slap him.

“Are you done?” you asked, trying to sound bored even as anticipation raced through your veins. He gave you a predatory look.

“Not even close, sweetheart.”

Before you could muster up a response, he was turning you around, pressing your chest against the door. His hands were at your hips, yanking your pants down just enough to expose you to him. You heard the rustle of fabric behind you before you felt the solid heat of him against you, the head of his cock pressed to your entrance. He was thick and demanding, and you had to bite back a whimper at the feel of him.

“Still think you can handle me?” he asked, voice rough with restraint. You could feel the tension in his body behind you, the way he held himself back. You spared the briefest thought that he was being surprisingly considerate. Soldier Boy would’ve been the last person you expected to make sure he had active consent.

“Less talking, more–” Your words cut short in a sharp gasp as he pushed forward, sinking into you inch by inch in one smooth motion. He was bigger than you had expected, – you were never going to tell him that – and your jaw went slack at the stretch. Your fingers scrabbled against the smooth surface of the door as you adjusted to him, every nerve ending singing with the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his grip on your hips tightening. “So fuckin’ tight.”

You bit your lip as he pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a rhythm that had your knees threatening to give out on you again. Each stroke filled you completely, the drag of him against your walls sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. A strangled sound escaped your throat before you could stop it, and one of his hands left your hip to cover your mouth, the two fingers that had been inside you pressing between your lips.

“Keep quiet,” he growled. “Unless you want them to find us like this? Want them to see you split open on my cock?” You could taste yourself on him, salty and musky, and it sent heat through you as you swirled your tongue around his fingers. He groaned at the sensation, his hips snapping forward harder. The rhythm he set was punishing, each thrust driving you against the door with enough force that you were sure anyone on the other side of it could hear it rattling.

“That’s it,” he muttered. “Knew you’d feel this good. Knew you’d clench around me like a desperate little slut.” You glared at the door in front of you and bit down on his fingers, silently promising retribution even as your body betrayed you by arching into his thrusts. His responding chuckle was dark as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and slid his hand down to grab your throat. Not enough to restrict your breathing, but firm enough to make his control clear. You hated how much you liked the possessive weight of his palm against your pulse.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice somewhere near your ear. “Keep biting me, and I might have to bite back.”

Before you could form a retort, his teeth found the junction of your neck and shoulder, scraping hard enough to drag a gasp from you. The hand at your throat tightened slightly, a wordless warning, as he sucked a mark into your skin that would definitely be sore long after this encounter was over. And with the location of it, you’d likely have to wear a high collar for days. The bastard probably knew it. You tried to squirm away from the mark he was leaving, but his grip was bruising. His relentless pace never faltered as he branded you.

“Asshole,” you managed to gasp out as he finally released your throat, his hand sliding down to cup your breast through your tactical gear. “You did that on purpose.”

“No shit,” he growled, squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple through the fabric. “Something to look at in the mirror and remember how I fucked you senseless.”

A sharp thrust made you gasp, your body trembling as you felt yourself building towards another climax. You wanted to hate how good it felt, but you still met each one of his thrusts with eager movements of your own. You shifted, breaking his rhythm just long enough to turn around to face him. His eyes met yours.

“Still giving me that look,” he chuckled darkly, finding his pace again. He gripped your thighs and lifted you against the door, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. “Like you’re not soaking my cock right now. Like you’re not about to come all over it.”

The position gave you better leverage, and you used it to your advantage, rolling your hips in a way that made his jaw clench. His grip on your thighs tightened, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his rhythm faltering for just a moment. You smirked at the crack in his composure.

“What’s wrong?” you breathed against his ear, deliberately clenching around him. “Thought you were supposed to be fucking me.”

His response was to slam you harder against the door, the sound echoing in the small space despite the wailing alarms. Soldier Boy clearly didn’t give a fuck about the guards outside, and at that exact moment, neither did you. One of his hands moved to brace himself, and he adjusted his other arm to support your weight better.

“Keep talking,” he rumbled. “See where it gets you.”

“I can’t wait to find out,” you replied with a challenging smirk, tightening your legs around his waist. His response was a particularly hard thrust that had your head falling against the door with a thud.

His rhythm grew more erratic, more desperate as he chased his own release. You could feel yourself tightening around him, the familiar tension building low in your belly. The closet was filled with the sounds of harsh breathing and the slick slide of skin against skin, barely masked by the noise outside.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, voice rough with desire. “Want to feel you come on my cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit and circling it in just the way you liked. The dual sensation of his cock filling you and your fingers working your sensitive bud had you spiraling towards release faster than you had expected. The moment hit you like a truck, your orgasm crashing over you in waves that left you gasping against his shoulder. Your walls clenched around him rhythmically as pleasure coursed through every nerve ending, and you had to bite down on the fabric of his uniform to keep from crying out.

“That’s it,” he growled, his pace growing erratic as your body milked him. “Fuck, you feel good when you come.

His own release followed moments later, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he buried himself deep inside you. You felt the warmth of him spilling in you, his grip on your thighs almost painful as he rode out his climax. For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing.

Then, reality came crashing back as the alarms continued to blare outside of the room. You pushed against Soldier Boy’s chest, and he slowly let you down, your legs wobbly beneath you.

“That was…” you started but then stopped, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

“Fuckin’ incredible,” he finished for you, that insufferable smirk back on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. You immediately wanted to punch him.

“I was going to say ‘stupid,’” you muttered, pulling your pants back up and trying to ignore the way your legs still trembled. The tactical vest came next, zipped up to hide the mark he’d left on your neck, and you could feel his eyes on you as you straightened your gear.

“Same thing.” He picked up his shield, the casual way he slung it over his arm making it clear that this was just another Tuesday for him. “You always this fun on missions?”

“Only when some geriatric asshole ruins my perfectly good plan.” You checked for the knife at your hip, grateful to have something to do with your hands that didn’t involve strangling him. The USB was still warm in your pocket, a reminder of the job that still needed to be finished.

The alarms had stopped, but you could still hear security teams moving through the building. You pressed your ear to the door again, listening for footsteps. The hallway sounded clear, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way. You held up a hand, signaling for Soldier Boy to stay quiet as you reached for the doorknob.

“We need to move,” you whispered, adjusting your gear. “Extraction point’s blown. There should be a service elevator at the end of the east corridor.”

“Got a better idea,” he said, reaching around you to open the door himself. “We go out the way I came in.”

“Which is?”

“The fuckin’ front door.”

And before you could protest, he was already stepping back out into the hallway, shield at the ready. You cursed under your breath and followed, knife drawn. He moved ahead with the swagger that you hated – all cockiness and broad shoulders. Like he hadn’t just fucked you in a janitor’s closet. 

You readjusted your gear and forced your steps to be steadier than you felt. Tried not to think of the way his fingers had left bruises on your thighs. Tried not to think about the filthy little growl he’d made when he came. Tried not to think of the way your body clenched like it missed him already.

He glanced back at you once like he could feel you thinking too loud. Then, he smirked like he already knew every one of your thoughts.

You tightened your grip on your knife.

And you kept walking.

---

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

I don't have an SB taglist, so I'm just tagging some of my moots I think would enjoy this. Who knows, might write him some more in the future. Lemme know if you don't wanna be tagged. No hard feelings :)

Soldier Boy Tags: @jollyhunter @bettystonewell @my-stories-vault @zepskies @sbwifey @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @voodoochildthings @middleearthislife @maddie0101

Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

[libraryraccoon]

Write of a raccoon like a actual raccoon ending up in hell and terrorizing every citizen in hell, and finding some roadroller and it becomes even worse demons homes aren’t only being trashed and torn into pieces and some how Hazbin Hotel is still standing ( it’s because of Nifty scaring them off some how ) The hotel business starts off booming. Sinners rejoice your redemption is far from the ever so crazy Raccoon! Wait till the Duck comes in… >:)

Gender : Raccoon

Pronouns : They/them

Message from Raccoon : That give me idea for a Raccoon!Reader meeting IMP..

General Headcanon

You were a good thief, really good.

But one day, you were betrayed.

You were robbing the world's largest bank, but your partner in crime, Timothy, betrayed you by shooting you.

You didn't really understand why, you never had an explanation, but you suspect that he was working with the Police in secret.

Anyway, you're dead.

Welcome to Hell ! And you're… a raccoon ?

No, like, a real raccoon. The little thing that digs through trash cans.

Holy shit.

Vox was broadcasting his usual show, when he had to interrupt it because there was a turf war led by a raccoon ?

He never thought he would see a real raccoon in Hell, and he never thought he would have to broadcast about them because the raccoon was fighting to be the Overlord of one of the territories.

He could see in the background Angel Dust walking away from the raccoon after seeing them lunge at the face of a snake demon.

Vox quietly wondered if this was all a dream or if he should really be going to Overlord meetings with a raccoon.

Spoiler : he had to.

You injected fear into all the beings of Hell after that, causing chaos.

No one said anything about it, they watched you steal their stuff and their trash but they said nothing.

When Alastor returned, he was NOT expecting to see a raccoon in the Overlords meeting room. Even less so for Carmilla to introduce the said raccoon as the new Overlord.

He made a 404 error.

Alastor saw how everyone else was suspicious or afraid of you, he was wondering who the hell this raccoon is.

You found Alastor interesting.

In the sense that you loved all the chaos he created, so you joined him.

He brought you to the Hotel, wondering what entertainment you would do.

He don't regret it.

You were doing a lot of damage, yes, but it was fun.

One day you drank alcohol at Husk's bar (you stole the bottle when he wasn't watching), and you ended up getting drunk.

Have you ever seen a demon raccoon drunk ? Because the Hazbin Crew did it.

You have fought everyone and destroyed everything you saw.

You were throwing yourself at people's faces like a fucking cat throwing itself at curtains.

It took Vaggie and Charlie spiking you with 16 tranquilizers before you calmed down.

Result of the damage of the hotel : a kitchen destroyed, a living room destroyed, the hall the hotel destroyed, some walls destroyed, the face of Angel Dust and Husk being injured by your claws, Alastor's trench coat in ruins.

And that was just the damage caused to the Hotel, let's not even talk about the rest of Hell..

Lucifer met you when you were in Wrath…

How the hell a sinner found a way to go in the circles other than pride is a mystery without answers.

He asked you, but you just looked at him with completely blank and terrifying eyes. You spoke, but he didn't understand what you were saying, didn't understand the raccoon.

He doesn't even know if you answer or if you were making fun of him.

You have become attached to Lucifer. More precisely his ducks.

Lucifer made a raccoon duck and gave it to you, it's your most precious object since.

Someone must be watching you 24/7 to ensure Hell's survival.

Did I mention the edits about you and the fact that you are a meme in the 7 circles of Hell ?

You hated bald people because Timothy was bald. That's why you attacked Valentino as soon as you saw him.

You 🤝 Niffty = being Valentino's worst nightmares.

Hell wasn't ready for your alliance with Niffty.

Neither was heaven.

Niffty stabbed Adam, you finished him.

[yourfavreggie]

Raccoon!reader when she hears the words shiny

@blondwhowrites :)

[dulc3vida]

raccoon!reader

inspired by the one and only @hrryp0thead i love raccoon!reader. can't wait to see what she'll get into.

not really a pogue because she goes to the kook academy but not really a kook because her parents business is on the cut.

she's bigger than than the other girls at school so the only attention she really got was from creepy older men. once she grew out of her awkward phase (she kept the raccoon hair) and traded the minecraft hoodie in for a mini skirt, she became the torturous image that most guys at the kook academy jerked off to.

how could they not? she's the image of femininity and softness when she wears a dress or a short skirt. thighs they could use as leverage while they plowed her into oblivion. skin just waiting to be marked and bruised. plush lips that would feel so good kissing them all over. but it's not like they would ever admit it.

it wasn't until rafe cameron started being sweet on her that she realized people had actually been paying attention to her. she knew rafe wasn't completely real with her, that he'd never call her his girlfriend. that he would never fight for her with the people most important to him when they inevitably said "she's a sweet girl but..." that doesn't mean she doesn't like the attention. no, she loves it. she knows what she's getting herself into.

this whole time, she doesn't realize that topper has been pining after her for years. topper doesn't realize it either. he's a nice guy. he never treats anyone from figure 8 terribly and until the whole drama with the pogues, he was trying to be civil with them. he tried to be cool with everyone which is why he couldn't understand why his stomach churned at the sight of her grinding on his best friend.

"i'm gonna get us a drink." rafe moves some hair from her ear and leans in close.

she leans back and looks at him with a smile. "okay."

as soon as rafe is gone, topper swoops in.

"hey, you." he stood behind her, close enough to feel her body heat but far enough not to come off as creepy.

it was a pleasant surprise when she danced her way closer to him. "hey topper." she was drunk already, cheeks all red and makeup slightly smudged. "what's up?"

he places his hands on the soft curve of her waist and leans into her ear. "don't do anything with rafe. he's using you."

it catches her completely off guard and now she's flushing with embarrassment and all the insecurities she had managed to push away before topper had it all come rushing back. "why're you saying that?"

"because he doesn't deserve you. i don't want to see you get hurt." as topper is saying this, he locks eyes with rafe across the floor. his grip on her tightens and he watches his hands sink into the flesh on her hips.

"that's nice and all topper but i don't care." she pushes herself away from him, temper starting to boil with help from the alcohol. she and rafe meet in the middle, exchange a few words and then he's leading her upstairs and the two aren't seen for the rest of the night.

topper goes and presses his ear against every door until he hears the sounds of her squealing and rafe grunting and skin smacking together as rafe fucks her silly. he could have stayed there all night just listening but people kept walking through the halls and he didn't want to look like a weirdo. still, he doesn't trust rafe with her and is making it his mission to get her away from him (so he can have her for himself).

[persesphonestears]

okay people

so finally working on raccoon!reader, i apologise for this taking so goddamn long

I was wondering if you all wanted the point of view to be second or third (or first if you really want). I ask cause I started writing like the actual fic and started it in the second person, but it's just a lot of the word 'you' which makes sense, but I'm worried it'll make the writing annoying and too repetitive.

If you want it in third person, what place holder should I use for their name, I don't rlly like Y/N but if it's easiest then oh well, but I could do like [Reader] or even using something like [☆] to make it more interesting?

idk but it's sorta up to y'all so :p

[laalalandloser]

BAT- ARCHIVE ! (THE MASTERLIST)

✥ READERS

PUPPY!BOY READER

PUPPY!GIRL READER

MEAN!BOY READER

BUNNY!GIRL READER

NERD!BOY READER

BIMBO!GIRL READER

SOC!BOY READER

RICH!BOY READER

RACCOON!GIRL READER

BUBBLEGUM!GIRL READER

ASSISTANT!GIRL READER

LOSER!BOY READER

BUNNY!BOY READER

✽ ALTERNATE UNIVERSES

BODYGUARD RAFE

MENTAL HOSPITAL DOCTOR RAFE

BOXER RAFE

STALKER RAFE

FRATERNITY PRESIDENT RAFE

ARRANGED MARRIGE MATTHEO

BOARDING SCHOOL MATTHEO

EX MATTHEO

TUTOR MATTHEO

❁ SERIES

GOOD GIRLS

UNINTENTIONAL

BABYSITTERS CLUB

(DISCLAIMER ! THIS WOULD NOT BE WITH THE MAIN CHARACTERS IN THE ACTUAL SHOW)

YOU

@cameronsbabydoll masterlist is the best! and this is heavily inspired by their masterlist



[rawme-price]

Did you know raccoons dont actually build their own nests??

Anyways, the 141 with raccoon!reader, you will sleep anywhere but ur own room lol. When the guys are heading to bed its always a gamble of whos room you'll be in, dozing off. Ur a bit nocturnal, sleeping mid to late day when you can. This ofc means the guys' beds are empty when ur feeling tired, plus is smells like ur pack, so you just crawl right in. They each have their own merits. Gaz keeps snacks in his nightstand, soap has a heating pad u love, ghost owns weighted blankets, and price has a bunch of pillows.

You'll be well into sleep when they retire for the night, and waking you is either impossible or deadly bc you are not above angry scratching. On the occasion you sleep at night, you still crawl into bed, zero cares if they're already there. You get a living furnace to cuddle up to, and ur usually careful enough to not wake them. (There have been multiple occasions where they hump u in their sleep but the comfy den is worth it in your opinion lol)

[c-y-g-m-c-o]

Inhuman looking characters have no right to be so damn fucking hot

[defnotriri]

BE MY BABY !

||timeskip!Katsuki Bakugo x Reader||

WARNINGS: SMAU, soft Katsuki, pro hero kats, u guys live together, raccoon :3

texts / tweets after you find a raccoon sleeping in a tree nearby and take him in. But it seems like he doesn’t take a liking to katsuki.

[invincibledc]

FLUFF + SMALL WORK SINCE IM BORED IN CLASS

Jason Todd, older brother, HUMAN, older brother and apparently a “father” to baby raccoon!reader who always crawls into his bed with their chubby small figure—holding saltine crackers, wanting to share with their male figure of the family than the others.

Jason at first wasn’t interested into the new adopted sibling into the family, not caring to glance at the small child who always look at him with those small eyes of theirs.

And now look at him, size of a fridge reading bed time stories to the small rascal. Always picking them up and falling asleep together.

If another batfamily were to post about the animal shifter eating, he would be the one to type “their greed disgust me.” As if he doesn’t stack them up on fruits and nuts as he researches what raccoons mostly eat.

Even if the child is part human and can possibly handle other things, he’s instincts tells him otherwise.

Ending up with now him having a place to live with the raccoon child, that child is his.

[goatgoesmbe]

(i work in IT so, time to be self-indulgent once again)

Reader! who works as head IT in the 141 base. The stereotypical loner who rarely got out of your workstation, spending most time with screens. Only went out to get food, but didn't stay to eat, prefer to do it in your lone self.

I'm talking cave gremlin. allergic to sun and people. Messy hair, dark eyebags, caffeine addict, crumpled hoodie, pajama pants, horrible posture, socks with sandals.

But somehow, they didn't turn their nose up at you and all those traits. They saw you as some kind of skrunkly kitten- they just wanted to wrap you in a blanket like a burrito. A skittish one that made them take their time getting close to you until you deemed it okay to be pet by them.

When they saw you for the first time (even though you've worked at 141 for a long time already, you've just never met since they were busy out, and you're rarely out of your cave), nose scrunched up cutely, sleepy eyes, wanting to be anywhere rather than where people are present- looking for Laswell to give her some important shit in the harddrive your holding. They think you're the most attractive being they have ever seen.

Eventually, you started to be more involved with them. Guiding their moves through the radio, providing info they needed before infiltrating enemy's base.

Since you're basically part of the team now (you can't say no, you're like some cat picked up from a dumpster unwillingly taken home to get some loving)- you're gonna need a codename.

And so they call you raccoon. Because it's obvious, you're like their adorable trash panda

[libraryraccoon]

A Raccoon in Twisted Wonderland ?

Gender : Raccoon

Pronouns : Raccoon

Infos : You're a raccoon. A real raccoon. That's it, that's the story. TW : Rook, bad english, english isn't my first language.

You were a normal raccoon, well normal, you had the power to speak in human language and to be smart.

These were the only powers, the only magic, you had, so imagine your shock when you found yourself at the NRC, the Black Mirror choosing you to be a student.

“BUT I DIDN’T EVEN APPLY ?!” -Raccoon!Reader, when a confused Crowley explained the raccoon situation.

Grim was jealous.

You, a fucking raccoon whose only magic was human language and intelligence, had been chosen but not him ?! Jealousy.

Grim became your rival without being asked, literally trying to be better than you at everything, while you didn't even acknowledge his existence-

You are in Savanaclaw, the only real raccoon there is in Savanaclaw.

When Leona and Ruggie started their plan in Book 2, you knew about it too.

They didn't tell you about it, no, you just had heard everything one day.

"You know this can lead to serious problems ? Like broken limbs ?" -Raccoon!Reader, on Leona's bed.

“Well, the nurse- WTF ARE YOU DOING HERE, FUCKING THIEF ?!” -Leona not having seen you arrive.

He give you money in exchange of your silence.

You are known at the NRC for stealing anything and everything, from money to trash passing by student and teacher files.

You once stole Crowley's file thinking it was Crewel's... You are the only student who knows his age and his true identity (you say nothing in exchange for him turning a blind eye to the illegal things you do).

You didn't know who Malleus was before the NRC, the reason is simple : no one knows anything about magic in your origin little forest. Magic and anything related to it isn't really something animals care about, so you didn't know it before the NRC.

“Oh, child of, uh, raccoon ?” Malleus suggested, confused about what nickname to give you.

"Kits. A raccoon child is a kits." -Raccoon!Reader.

Underrated friendship : Idia & Raccoon!Reader & Ortho.

You were adopted by the Shroud the moment Idia realized that you were not afraid of him and that you saw Ortho as Ortho and not just a robot.

You let them pet you, especially if one of them (most often Idia) is stressed.

You are Idia's support animal and the reason for his occasional attendance at class IRL.

Every class where Idia goes IRL (which is 3 times a month since you've been here) you accompany him and let him caress/pet you.

Imagine the look on all the 3rd years' faces the first time they saw him go to flight class with you that very first time (it was also the first time of all year he go to a class IRL).

Headcanon that you and Rook had some sort of weird alliance that consisted of you giving each other information on all the students.

A scary duo.

Literally the hunter and the supposedly "prey" teaming up was something no one at the NRC expected. Even less that they give each other information about the students.

Crewel is the one who makes your clothes, whether those for classes or those to use in everyday life, because for him it's not because you are a raccoon that you are obliged to have no style.

Lilia 🤝 Raccoon!Reader : playing jokes on students who didn't ask for anything (especially Sebek).

I like to think that Raccoon!Reader would be friends with all the NRC ghosts, and that they would give him free food.

For Overblots where you have to fight, be aware that you will jump on the Overblotter's face each time unexpectedly. No one knows why you do this, not even you. Your only answer is always “instincts”.

And it's not even just with Overblotters, but with everyone who annoys you.

The nurse is fed up with you, that's canon.

The Black Mirror is maybe the only one (with the Shroud brothers) who doesn't regret having you at the NRC.

[rivalswrites]

Valentine's Day special 3/4

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Summery: giving everyone on the Marvel Rivals roster a kiss (with plot!!)

Valentine's Masterlist

Underage characters and animal characters will be platonic (there will be a reminder for each one)

Characters involved: Mister Fantastic, MoonKnight, Namor, Peni Parker (platonic), Psylock, Rocket Raccoon (platonic), Scarlet Witch, Spider-Man, Squirrel Girl

Reed sighed and leaned back into his chair, resting his head on his hand that in turn sat on his brow- he looked hot like that, but that feeling lessened knowing that he was so stressed. New York's infestation of vampires had Reed pushing himself to his limit to find solutions to help not only that, but every other problem as well. Too much for one man to take on all alone.

“You look so tired, Reed, take a break?” You asked, though you both knew it was going to end up as an order if he didn't listen on his own terms. “In a moment, dearest, I just need a bit more time.” more time- he's said that a thousand times, you scoff.

“Reed Nathaniel Richards if you don't swivel that chair away from work right now I swear to whatever God may listen-” “alright!” He cuts you off before you could finish your threat. He knew from experience you'd never give up, and at times like these he didn't want or need something like that. “Alright” he repeated, swirling his chair around to look at you.

His eyes were tired, you could tell- anyone could've. Reed’s arms reached out to you, stretching inhumanly to grab onto your shirt “don't get mad at me.” he whispered, his hands gripping onto you tightly.

“I'm not, sweetheart, I just want you to take care of yourself.” your hands rested on his own that were on your shirt as you walked over to him, watching as his arms slowly retracted back to a more natural form. He let you move as you pleased, him in tow, let you sit down on his lap and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “Doing so much.”

The lab was quiet as you both sat on the chair, his head just barely staying up as your hands played with his hair- and practically held his head up; his hands still gripping your shirt. “So tired” you comment, watching as his eyes slowly blink, like he was high, you giggle as you think.

Reed whispered something, but it was so unintelligible that no one could hear- even with super hearing.

Leaning down you pressed a kiss to his lips, holding it for a little before pulling back- his face pushed against your hands to follow when you did. “Let's get you to bed, yeah?” feeling him nod in your hands you stood up, bending to kiss him again before helping him up.

It was a rough night, no one felt like being inside and so there they were- standing on a balcony with an iron grip on the railings. God only knew which one they were right now, they were all active. It was so loud, and the moonlight wasn't able to help, not this time.

“Marc?” was called out behind them, from the door of the building, but they didn't move. “Steven?” was called out again, and again there was silence in return. “C'mon, don't make me guess them all…” the door shut as you stepped onto the balcony.

“I'm not anyone” he finally replied, turning his face away to avoid looking at yours. He flinched when your hand rested on top of his. “Someone's gotta be there,” you replied, grabbing onto his arm to snuggle into “it's alright. I don't have to know, I love you all either way.”

Your reply shouldn't have been surprising, they all knew you did, always so sweet to them. With a sigh he turned his head back to being straight, looking down at the pavement from what was like fifty stories, no one ever counted. A guttural sound left him as he attempted to talk back, but he just couldn't even when he tried to force himself. He continues to try until you start shushing him, patting his back and leaning him into you.

“Don't force yourself, it's alright” the reassurance was something he needed, that they needed. It was so small and yet there it was, a butterfly feeling deep in his stomach.

His suit was still on, including the mask, but that didn't stop him from doing whatever he wanted. Quickly he turned and grabbed your shoulders, looking at your wide eyes that looked at him in return. It was an intense staring competition for awhile, unfair as well because you couldn't see his eyes so who knew if he was blinking the whole time and cheating.

Before you could voice your complaints he pulled you close to him, leaning his head down. His mask pressed against your face, all over it. He'd pull back and then press the jagged face mask over a different part of your face. “Butterflies” he said quietly before pressing his mask against your lips in an uncomfortable final kiss.

“My dear, how are you feeling?” He asked, peaking around the door of the bedroom to get a glance in. It was late in the evening, and you had stayed in bed almost all day.

The simple reply of a groan and turning around in the bed was what he got back, which did concern him more. Throughout the day worry had built up, and seeing your reaction to being asked how you felt only raised the concern.

He walked into the room fully, closing the door behind him, and went to go sit on the bed. The look he gave you was full of some sort of guilt- probably for not coming to check up on you later. “Is something ailing you my dear? Please talk to me.” He murmured, reaching over to grab onto your hand with a soft grip.

“I'm fine” you whispered back, scooching around the bed before turning back to him. “Just so tired today.”

“Ah, I understand” he sat and thought, unconsciously bringing your hand up and pressing it against his lips; not putting it down or letting it go, just keeping it on his lips. “You could have called me, I could have helped earlier.” The moonlight highlighted on his face, showing the worry etched into it.

“Sorry.” Your reply only made his face give off a small scowl, slightly reprimanding you, “do not apologize, I know it's hard.”

“How can I help?” Finally, Namor lowered your hand from his face, giving your forearm a rest. He still kept your hand in his and even intertwined your fingers with his. “I'll do anything to help get you better, even just for a moment.” He practically proclaimed his love, tightening his grip on your hand.

You didn't respond, at least not verbally, motioning him down with your free hand to which he obeyed. Namor laid down next to you, resting his hand along with yours down in between you two, “anything” he whispers while staring at your eyes with all the admiration in the world.

Before he could get the chance to ask once more, you practically jumped him, using your free hand to wrap around his shoulder as you leaned on his upper body, surprising him with a passionate kiss. He could feel the sorrow you carried, and when he said anything- he meant it.

“If you wanted my affections, darling…” Namor took a deep breath when you just barely pulled away, continuing his sentence between slow kisses, “you could have asked. I'd never-” he paused to kiss you deeper for a moment “-I’d never refuse you.”

(platonic)

The laboratory was practically empty, which made sense due to just how late it was, but that didn't stop you from working away. SP//DR hung in front of you, being held up gently by chains to help with easier access to the full body.

Peni sat on the floor, leaning under one of the desks with blankets and pillows around her. She had made her own makeshift bed there after insisting on her watching you to fix any damages done to her beloved robot- which you didn't fight, figuring her connection to said robot was too deep to be able to.

“How does it look? Will SP//DR be okay?” She pipes up, breaking the silence with her worried questions. “Of course, SP//DR is very strong. Just some scratches and maybe a wire or two exposed, nothing I can't fix.” You swivel your chair around to offer her a reassuring smile, knocking gently against the robot's torso as an example.

She nodded, keeping hold of her pillow as she climbed out from underneath her desk spot and standing closer to watch you work. You moved your chair back around and continued to work, smoldering the metal plates to clean up any of the scratches and indents. Her stare was prominent, practically all over your shoulder to watch as her dear robot was fixed brand new.

“You should go back to resting” you said, setting down the tools in your hands and turning your head to look at her. “It's late, a kid like you needs sleep.”

“I just can't help but worry, SP//DR is all I have left of my dad…” she replied, giving herself permission to start leaning on your shoulders with all her weight. “And you won't lose it, not today.” Your statement brought comfort to her, a warmth she hasn't felt in a while spreading through her- a warmth that felt like a home.

The feeling only doubled when you pressed a kiss onto her cheek, smiling at her before going back to work. She couldn't help but smile, wrapping her arms around your neck into a tight hug before letting go and taking your advice- resting under the desk in her little makeshift bed, listening to the soft sounds of you working away as white noise.

“I'm not sure how you plan on meditating like that” she observed, watching as you threw pillows off the couch and onto the floor. “Easy! You said I have to be comfortable, right?” You smiled at her as you worked vigorously to make the floor a giant nest of blankets and pillows, “I'm doing just that.”

Your explanation was about what she should've expected from you, and by no means was she mad- it was just something she's never seen before, usually meditation made people want a clear space. She sat down on the couch and watched as you worked silently.

Not even five minutes later you were tugging at her hand, trying to get her to stand up. “What are you doing?” She looked up at you as you tugged on her arm. “I need the finishing touch.” You replied, tugging on her arm. Believing she was sitting on whatever you needed she graciously stood up and looked down at the couch to see what it was, but there was nothing here.

Before she could even question what the ‘finishing touch’ was, you tugged on her arm again, this time taking her with you as you sat down on the nest you had made. “Perfect” you muttered while pulling her into your arms, making her rest on your side.

The two of you sat in silence, her head resting on your lap while you played with her hair. You had pulled her down to lay on you soon after the two of you sat down, and she's just been laying there since- processing what was going on. When she did eventually get it through her head she turned to look up at you.

“This is not at all about meditation” she said, narrowing her eyes up at you. “You caught me” you smiled down at her, resting your hand on her cheeks and squishing them to make duck lips. “I do not enjoy being tricked” she murmured out through her plump lips, the words mushing together by the artificial lisp she was given.

Instead of replying, you lean down and press your lips against hers, letting go over her face so it could be normal again- instead resting your hand on her bicep and rubbing gently. Only when you pull away do you speak up, “am I forgiven?” Psylocke takes a moment of silence to stare at you, and for a moment you think she's genuinely pissed, but quickly those thoughts are dispersed when she speaks up, “it is a satisfactory apology.”

(Platonic)

Rocket sat on the porch steps of your dingy home and looked out, watching as the rain poured down from the sky. The wind was cold as it blew into his face, but he paid no mind as he continued to just sit there.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The question snapped him out of his thoughts, making him look up to you as you sat down next to him. “Unless you've actually got a coin, flark off” he spouts out, leaning away from you. He sighs almost dramatically when you pull out a penny from your pocket and offer it to him- “flarkin’ hell, did you actually just have that on you?”

“I knew you'd say that,” you reply, putting the penny into his lap “you've become predictable, Rocketeer.” Leaning back on your hands you cross your legs and watch the rain fall with him. “Me? Predictable? Oh please” Rocket scoffed, waving his hand before picking up the penny and examining it. Silence set in between the two of you, the rain being filler for anything that could possibly be said.

Rocket tossed the coin back to you, raising an eyebrow when you quickly caught it instead of having it hit you in the head and make you fumble like he thought. “So why'd you come out here? Couldn't resist my charm or somethin’?” He teased, nudging your arm with his. “Oh, right. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“That's it?” He questioned, looking up at you with an oddly confused face, “you came out here just to tell me you've made food?” there's a pause, “well, yeah, I wanted to make sure you got some first- you know how much Quill eats, best to get some before him” you chuckle at your own statement about Peter, Rocket joining in with a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, that's true.” He agrees, standing up and moving to stand on the top step of the porch. “What'd you make anyways?”

You turned and grabbed his face, pulling it down to place a big fat kiss on the very top of his head, letting go soon after to stand up yourself and turn to go back inside the house. “What the flark! Dude, not cool” Rocket complained, standing on the porch for a moment before chasing you inside, “and what'd you make!”

Wanda stared down at you, watching as you laid on the floor almost lifelessly if it wasn't for your head moving from side to side and complaining about your job.

“You should've heard him, Wanda! He told me to get it all done by Thursday!” You cried out, your arms raising to cover your face, “Thursday! Even Friday would've been nice.” With a dramatic sigh, your arms fall back to the floor with a thud.

Crouching down and moving to sit on her knees, she brushed hair away from your face and watched it fall. “Sounds very rough, dear” she says, and while she sounds pretty monotone you know she's being sympathetic over your painful boss. Her words bring you comfort, the understanding she offers makes you feel warm in the chest as you let out a deep breath you were definitely holding in. “Yeah”, you mutter back.

Your hand comes up and reaches out, palm to her awaiting. It's obvious what you want, and she obliges, putting her hand on top of yours to hold as she shifts to sit next to you. Her legs are on one side, she's half resting on one of her calves. Ever so gently, her free hand lifts your head and maneuvers you to have your head resting on her lap- her hand staying on your head and brushing your hair back into her.

“Anything I can help with?” She whispers, looking down at you as you bring her hand holding yours to her chest, to simply lie there. The rise and fall caused by your breath was a steady rhythm, which she liked.

“Just this.” You replied, looking up at her with a smile, turning your head gently to lean in her arms. A hum of approval was all she gave you.

The two of you sat like this for a while- even though both knew how uncomfortable the position was for the other, neither said a word, too scared to break the peace.

It was a surprise when she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your chin- a miscalculation on her part- before pulling back and going in for another kiss, actually planting it on your lips this time as intended.

“I love you,” she said, cutting you off before you could respond with more “my back hurts, mayhaps we could move to a more comfortable place?” she asks, though it was more of a suggestion - one that you could get behind. “Perhaps the couch, or maybe our bed, hm?” Her hum at the end only sweetened the deal- This was something you could get behind.

The rain pitter pattered against the windows, New York rain wasn't uncommon- just untalked about. You stood in the kitchen and watched the raindrops run down the window next to the fridge, taking a swig from your mug every few moments. It was a comfortable silence.

That was until the thud of footsteps interrupted, his bare feet stepping on the hardwood floors of your apartment- the yawn he let out was a knife cutting through the silence. He scratched at himself under the shirt he wore, groggily looking at you from across the room. “Morning” he let out another yawn halfway through.

You smile over at him, setting down your cup and leaning against the counter. “It's almost noon.” You corrected him, watching as he blinked slowly and just stood halfway in your living room.

“No,” he said before elaborating “I just woke up. That means it's morning.” The way he said it was so matter of fact-ly, walking over around the kitchen counter and coming up behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on the back of your neck- snuggling in like a cat would.

Nodding slowly, you rested a hand on his. “So that's how it works” you feigned understandment in a teasing way, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Yep, little do you know, I also have the power to control time.” He said, laughing at his own dumb statement.

“Really?” You turn your head to look at him, though you only see the top of his head, “The more I learn about you, Peter.” Both of you silently chuckled at how ridiculous it was, him lifting his head to look up at you a little.

Slowly, his hands grab your shirt and turn you around so you face him. Your back is now against the counter, his arms still around you as you both look at each other with loving eyes. “Good morning, then” you say before pressing a kiss to his lips, it was simple but filled with love.

“Morning” he repeats, leaning in for another kiss.

Tippy Toe sat on a pillowed chair, watching the TV that played some random show on one of the millions of streaming services you owned. Doreen sat huddled in your arm, hers wrapping around yours, her full weight practically on your side.

“Wait, so he doesn't love her?” Doreen asked, subconsciously her hand moving to rest higher on your side. “Doesn't seem like it.” You answered her question, ruffling her hair gently while your other hand fiddled with the remote to play the next episode.

She lets out a frustrated huff, “well I can't see how anyone would do that.” you glanced over at her, letting out an ‘oh?’ to question her. “Not loving someone you're dating, absolutely absurd!” She complains, raising a hand to point at the guy that was the topic of your discussion as the episode recap played.

“Yeah,” you agreed, pulling her close “I can't either.” She looks up at you with a bright smile. “I know you can't resist my pretty squirrel charm” she says with pride, pushing up more against you as her tail comes to wrap closer to you.

“I certainly can't” you said back, leaning down to peck at her cheek, pulling back to skip the show intro. Though she wasn't satisfied with that, moving to grab the neck of your shirt and pulled you down so she could get another kiss. Her lips met yours in a playful kiss.

The two of you sat like that for a bit, simply enjoying the others embrace and the kiss. But then the two of you pulled away with smiles, Doreen going back to resting on you.

“Wait, rewind, we totally just missed something important.”

-----

Tag list!!

@ihrtsamwinchester

@ghost-candyyy

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[theghostinyourwalls]

[laalalandloser]

RACCOON!GIRL READER

clean girl. shiny. tree climbing. churros. tater tot. blueberries. apple slices dipped with carmel

PT 1

get to know raccoon!reader

backalley heart

curious claws

clumsy affection

trust takes time

shared silence

hands always busy