#a-train x reader

[yandere-wishes]

・┆✦ʚ Had a few dreams about you, I can't tell you what we did ɞ✦ ┆・

⭒⌒★ Yandere!The Boys x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒶𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ♡ ｡ ゜

๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑It's such a shame it ended this way ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑

✮⋆˙ Homelander

He wasn't supposed to get this attached, he knows that. At first, it's easy to pretend, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to whisper sophomoric quips into your ear so you'd squint throwing your head back and laughing, even though the dirt of the joke is lost on you. But that's the problem right there, that odious jovial laugh coupled with that eerie righteous gleam carved into your eyes. Your voice sounds like early morning birds and those housewives in old infomercials. Domestic, blissful, so utterly painfully innocent that it punctures his steel heart. You make it so hard not to fall in love.

According to the public -and Vought - you two are not quite lovers, but there's clearly something there, squirming below the surface, trying to break free. 'More than friends' is what they call you. It's what the public wants, a build-up, a love story they can watch unfold through their screens. The Golden Boy and the People's Sweetheart. But the error of it all itches under Homelander's skin. You are his lover, his darling, his whole damn world. He doesn't need the suckups and tyrants to tell him how and when he can love you. He already does, he's already crossed the line, gotten too attached.

The thoughts creep in, or rather invade, when he notices how your fans touch you, how those wretched mortals have the gall to slurp up gallons of your attention and love. You really are made for the people, aren't you? Not for him, never him.

No, he can't have that...

"You all right?" he asks vice grip on your body as he soars through the sky. You're tucked into his chest sniffling, tears dried out and pleas laying dead upon your tongue. He has you now, He'll never let you go. He's so high up one misstep and you'll plummet to your doom. Still, that's better than letting those insects lay a finger on you. He does this every time your fans ask for pictures, every time someone gets too close. He picks you up and flies away. But this time, this time he's going too far, flying too fast. You don't know where he's headed but you have a feeling you might never come back. "I love you," Homelander says, voice booming through the thick winds, "I can't...I can't let them have you, you belong to me. Besides what kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't keep my own darling safe?" the humor and technicality that you aren't 'really' dating it lost on you when you start to notice how cold it's gotten, how the ground is pitch white how the snowflakes land like doomed omes upon his golden hair...

"I'll keep you safe," He promises. "Far away from those disgusting, filthy mortals, and then once it's all burned down and built anew, I'll lay it all at your feet." His lips seal his promise, binding you as he lands on the tundra.

⋆˙⟡ Black Noir

Little hearts are dancing around your face as you nervously strangle a lock of hair around your finger. The hearts spin and swirl floating over to pivot around Black Noir's head. You look so adorable mulling over your costume changes, over the limited options Vought has bestowed upon you. You remind him of cartoon bunnies and fawns frolicking through evergreen forests hiding from cruel poachers and hunters. Forced into cages to be leered at

You plague him with lovelorn paralysis, too dazed to think straight to move, just replaying your voice in his head while scribbling your name across papers, love notes, and endless doodles of your essence. He draws you with fluffy ears and a cotton tail, draws himself -black wool and big sheepish eyes- saving the poor bunny from the monstrous masses. And maybe it's not just a fever dream, a relapse in reality. Maybe it can be true. He just has to pluck you away in the dead of night, fib a little tale about some supervillain having killed you. Vought will find a replacement, and you will be safe tucked away in his room. Forever his, his sweet little bunny.

𓆩♛𓆪 Queen Maeve

Her heart yearns for you. Aching from your mere smile, from the haunting sparkle in your eye under the right light. "I love you," she says, thousands upon thousands of times. But you never say it back, she's not meant for you to love, she can't belong to one person. But the world doesn't need to know, the people shouldn't get the right to choose her wishes. Do your bones ever sing for her? Maeve wonders. Hum her name between the marrow and plead for her firm touch.

It's savage the way she hauls you from your home, unbefitting someone who truly believes in freedom, unbefitting her epithet of 'Queen'. But it's the only way she knows how, instinct upon desperation. You're staring out the window, glaring at the stars as she kisses up your neck. Locked away forever with her, high above, hidden from the world's cruel gaze. You can belong to her forever, with no guilt and messy shards. Just you and her and the love clawing at her throat.

⋆𓆝 The Deep

He wants to watch you drown. Maybe that's not a thing to admit to someone. Especially someone you claim to love. To tell them, tenderly, while running your fingers over their bones and curves, that you want to watch the air slip out of their lungs, replaced with the gorgeous crystalline liquid of his essence. Deep watches as you push the glass to your lips, head tipped back, giving him the perfect view of your slender neck. He thinks it'd look better with his teeth marks and kisses marring your smooth skin. He thinks it would look better adorned with deep sea pearls and fingerprints.

He weighs your cheeks in his palms, pushing just enough to watch the pellucid tears ripple from your eyes. He has you caged, cornered in the dark of Vought Tower. Begging, pleading for you to stay with him, to be his. You once told him you feel like a shark, a great white, forced to live in a donut tank, and he couldn't help but understand every single word coming from your mouth. He won't be your tank, he swears, as he drags you up the emergency flight of stairs that eventually bleeds into the Seven's penthouse complex. No, he'll be your water, your ocean, aqueous salvation keeping you safe from every dreadful one and thing on dry land. You can drown for him, drawn in his enthrallment, in this desperate thing he calls "love". Drown in his kisses that feel like swallowing seas and starfish. Drown for him, belong to him, be his…

ঌ✦໒ A-train

When you glare at him he feels like spitting back. Shoving something sharp between your eyes, or cracking your skull on the pavement. He hates you, hates the way you make his heart beat faster than V fixes, hates how he needs to feel you close just to feel alive. But what he hates most is that you're always out of reach.

When he takes you, he leaves no room for argument. No room for reason. You're in the convenience store one-moment buying ice cream and Diet Coke. And the next you're high above the ground in a room with locked windows and doors. A-Train tries to reason, tries to apologize sheepishly for the crude "date" -as he calls it- blushing mess, charisma, and charm rotting in the pit of his stomach as he tries to kiss you, tries to hold your hands, and shows you how much he loves you. But that glare, that damn glare never leaves your gorgeous eyes. It's fine, it's cool, you'll learn to love him, you have nowhere else to go, you can't leave him now. Eventually, his love will catch up to you too.

⭑.ᐟ Soldier Boy

His love is so utterly cruel, all anger and radiation and gunpowder inhaled. He loves you he swears even when his kisses are all teeth and tongue and knife cuts. And at first, it's exhilarating being with the quintessence of heroics, the perfect man, the world's bravest. Old fashioned and rough around the edges, until those edges start drawing blood. Until he's ready to murder anyone who so much as looks at you. His excuses are plentiful, sweet, innocent thing like yourself knows nothing of the world's cruelties. Those people are evil they want to hurt you, hurt him, steal you away, and break you apart. And Ben just has to protect you, someone unmarred by the terrors and pains he's gone through, you're his sanctuary his Eden, he needs to keep you pure.

Whatever he's slipped you has made the lights throb and the walls spin. You thought it would be fun to drag him to a nightclub, to show him this century isn't so bad. But when he pulls you onto his lap, mouth on yours, slipping something round down your throat with his tongue, you start to realize this may have been a bad idea. He's cruel when he pushes you off his lap, laughing as you try to stand and fail. He coos in your ear, all patronizing synonyms of 'I told you so'. The next morning, you don't know where you are, just that you can't leave; he made sure of it. He has you locked away, hidden, and safe. And perfectly broken for him and only him.

ᯓ★ Starlight/ Annie January

She utters your name in absolute, little wish upon a star that someday you'll be hers. When Annie asks you to move in with her, she makes it sound like a covenant, like rehearsing a verse from a childhood dream. Be close to her, be with her, she's so sick of being alone, of being used. She needs someone to make the pain go away and mold her back into something resembling a human being.

She's a supernova on the brink of explosion and she knows it's a cruel fate to tie to you. But she can't help it, not when your lips are so soft and your eyes so innocent. Not when you remind her of why she even became Starlight in the first place. Her eyes flicker gold trying to imprint herself into you, so utterly terrified you'll leave her for another less broken girl. She can't have that, it sounds so callous to force this all upon you. To leave you locked away in her childhood home. But she has bruises that never healed right and eyes that have seen too much. And you're just a human, a human who holds her heart in the palm of your hand. She'll protect you, scare away supe and mortal so you'll forever remain in her arms.

⋆☾ Billy Butcher

He locked you away the moment he realised he loved you. The moment the shards fell into place and Billy woke up with your name on his tongue he knew he had to hide you away. He's meticulous about it, classic in the deed. Blind folds and gags, and reassuring words that are always too gruff to be comforting.

He treats you like a princess, wiping away your tears, kissing you as tenderly as he can. Makes you your favorite foods and buys you whatever your heart desires. Just don't break his rules, don't leave the house. Please! It's all he asks for, love. And should you ever succeed in running away. Well, Butcher has no claims against breaking your bones to keep you compliant, after all, he knows what the alternative is, and he knows what the world could do to you. In comparison, this is a mercy. So just be a good bird and let him take care of you. Alrigh' love?

˚꩜｡Hughie Campbell

Hughie never kidnaps you, not really, he doesn't have the heart to take your freedom away like that. But he's always too close, body pressed to yours. You can feel his heartbeat echoing within your bones, flesh-to-flesh exchanging traumas. He's so anxious all the time, worried and lovesick all in the same breath. His presence is your cage; you can never escape his closeness.

The first time Hughie kisses you, it tastes like guilt and dead butterly cacoones. Like a boy who's trying to understand who he is through you. His fingers squeeze the flesh of your arms, scared that you'll slip away. Be taken from him the moment his lips leave yours. You can almost call him sweet if he weren't so suffocating. Lost puppy boy who won't leave his favorite chew toy alone. Kicked one too many times by the cruel world to let you relive such a fate.

˚✿° Frenchie

It's a little too easy to love you. Not love at first sight or last sight, just a love whose seeds have festered deep within his blood, taking bloom every time you appear to assist on another suicide mission.

And maybe that's it, the thought of dying that makes you so appealing, like a bomb that is a fraction of a second from exploding. Frenchie thinks you're more weapon than human, all revolvers and demolition, all dying and surviving, and every oxymoron he can think of. Because the truth i,s you are a gun, a pistol, pointed blank at his heart, ready to shoot.

He's careful when he blows up your house, timing it perfectly so that you're far enough to remain unscathed but close enough to see everything. And he knows Butcher and Hughie can't really put you up. It's the problem with being vigilantes, you're always fleeing from safehouse to safehouse like famine-driven rats. But Frenchie has a place, and you're free to stay with him until you sort this whole mess out. Just help him out with his orders, with the modifications the clients need. He has you so close, and he promises he'll be so good, so tender, and doting. You would never want to leave! But should you ever decide to break his heart, to wander off, he has you chipped ready to find you and drag you back. Maybe this time he'll cuff you to the bed until you readjust.

[scariffs]

homelander, queen maeve, a-train, starlight, and the deep (the boys) with feminine, superpowered!reader. sfw but homelander is a pervert. you’re a new member of the seven, marketed by vought as their own sex symbol. this is very early s1 coded because #nostalgia. + masterlist.

. . . every power needs its own sex symbol. for hollywood, there was marilyn monroe. for music, there was madonna. even in video games, there’s lara croft. for vought, thanks to the death of translucent, there’s you, their newest, sexiest hero yet: miss minx. your outfit, if you could even call it that, was even skimpier than annie’s. your powers? more or less irrelevant to the higher-ups. you were scouted for your breasts, for your big smile and long eyelashes. you were scouted for public appeal, for twitter likes and nasty comments under instagram posts.

. . . homelander has no problem reminding you of why you’re on the seven in the first place. every time you act out, he tsks softly before bringing up how he can see your cleavage from a mile away. he gets a kick out of agitating you with this. you’re smarter than vought gives you credit for and both of you know it.

. . . the deep tries to pull the same stunts, but it never goes as well for him. unlike homelander, he’s someone you can take in a fight. he oscillates between wanting to fuck you and wanting to shame you, never quite picking a side.

“you know what?” he spits out one day while in the elevator with you. you turn to face him, arms crossed, and he scoffs. “you walk around like you’re a fucking princess, like your opinion means shit, but you’re really just a dirty little slut—”

your hand shoots out before he can finish his sentence, gripping his nose while you maintain eye contact. you can feel the cartilage squish beneath your fingers as you squeeze. more importantly (and to your amusement), you can hear kevin start to backtrack.

“ow— ow, fuck, ow ow—”

“shouldn’t have said that,” you taunt, dragging him by his nose to the back of the elevator. by the time the doors open, he’s got a face fill of red, his nose more than a little broken.

. . . you and maeve have… an interesting relationship, to say the least. she’s quick to criticize you for playing into vaught’s sick fantasy, only to roll her eyes when you point out she does the same. it doesn’t help that you’ve hooked up with her while drunk once or twice. maybe the whole sex symbol thing wasn’t that much of a stretch for you…

maeve glances at you mid-meeting before snorting. “is that glitter on your fucking lips?” she asks, leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. she looks every bit the warrior she is.

you smack your lips once or twice. “mmm. cherry flavored. want to taste?”

“fuck no,” she mutters, “stay over there. and keep your dick in your pants, kevin, even whores have standards.”

the deep scoffs, raising his arms in protest, “i didn’t even say anything this time!”

. . . a brief list of the themed pin up photoshoots you’ve done: baseball, tennis, race cars, kittens, doctors, wrestling, “office sirens” (thanks to whichever young intern suggested that), bikinis, american flags (your least favorite, possibly), princesses, playboy bunnies, motorcycles, military brats, and… many, many more.

. . . you and a-train are on decent enough terms, you think. though it’s not rare for him to join in on any lewd jokes homelander might make, he never goes out of his way to harass you. in fact, he can be pretty gentlemanly at times, holding the door for you and pulling out chairs. he’s your second favorite when you list your coworkers out.

. . . first place, of course, goes to starlight. annie. when she first saw you in your hero suit, she rushed to get you a jacket. it took multiple conversations for her to understand that you were (begrudgingly) okay with vought’s way of marketing you. she’s your biggest supporter and the first to partner with you whenever the situation calls for it. secretly? she’s grateful you’re on the team, showing skin. they’ve let her add a little more modesty to her outfit since you’ve joined the seven.

. . . homelander listens in to you changing. he listens in to nearly everything that happens at vought, just because he can, but he pays special attention when he sees you strolling into vought in your outside clothes. you walk over to the women’s room and he lingers on an opposite wall, hearing through concrete and plaster the sounds of you grunting and zipping, stripping down and then dolling up.

“you left out black noir” yes i did… i didn’t have any ideas for him, sorry </3. anyways i’m thinking of watching gen v, i never got to it when the boys was originally trending but maybe i will now bc s2 is out. not sure! also if ur from my old account you know this is lowkey my roots </3 returning home after a long time away.

[writingbyshiloh]

Ass vs Tits ft. The Boys + The Seven

CW: NSFW no minors/ageless blogs!!! Also The Deep. Light spoilers, no beta

WC: 193

They love your ass, no question about it. They love watching the way your ass recoils from a slap, whether it's while you’re on all fours and arched for them, or if you’re just picking up something from the floor. That quote “hate to say goodbye but love to see you go?” Yeah, these guys are the definition, always watching how your ass moves as you walk. 

BUTCHER, Kimiko, Frenchie, Victoria Neuman, Queen Maeve, Black Noir II, Firecracker, Ashley, Sister Sage. 

Tits. No matter the size, they’re obsessed, always sneaking glances (or just straight-up staring) at your chest whenever they can. The obsession gets worse the lower the neckline and the tighter the fit is. Any time you’re alone, they’re nipping, sucking, and kissing your chest until you're moaning and squirming under them.

Starlight, Hughie, HOMELANDER, The Deep, Black Noir I, Soldier Boy, MM, Ashley (again), Joe Kessler.

Tits again, but they tell you for a different reason. They don’t want to reduce you to physical traits, they are in love with you and your personality. But your heart is right between your tits, right?

MM.

They say tits, but deep down they want someone with gills.

The Deep.

Feet. 

A-Train.

[ellamyua]

Vitals

On your marks, set– oh! A-Train! And his beloved black girlfriend; the reader!

Summary: A-Train gets help from his black non-vought-propaganda’d homegirl on how to rep the community. No notes.

Prompt: Black excellence help from an excellent black(woman). Hahaaa..

Warnings: lowkey might be rushed nas. minor cussing, biased toward black readers, lowkey spends most the time introducing them than actual romance

! Ellam Yua's Pod: I’m awestruck by the lack of A-Train fics, especially with a black reader SMDH. Y'all I tried so hard not to use the N word </3 if it aint clear im black but boyyy i need to ween that word up out my vocab

WC: 4.1k

The aftermath of a heart-attack was pain, fear, and apparently 30,000 calories a day. If you’re the fastest dude on the planet.

Eating 30k in fruits and veggies was a damn hard thing to do. So, atop of recovery, there was also binge eating carbs and McDonalds which sucked because it’s literal garbage. You can only eat so many egg McMuffins before you start to hate the damn things.

The absolute screwed-over-ness that A-Train felt was… diabolical, with no better use of the word. Regular check-ups at the clinic made sure his heart stayed pumpin’ and his caloric requirements were met, but eating all that sugar opened the door for diabetes, too.

He hated sitting and waiting hours to be seen by some silver fox with a clipboard to tell him he needed to eat healthier and remind him that he’ll fucking die if he runs.

A long exhale left his lips. He poked at the pudge around his stomach like it’d shrink and wither away if he touched it enough. He sucked in a sharp breath and his tummy along with it. The door clicked and he coughed his throat raw with a rushed exhale. The doctor was different this time. No grown ass white man with glasses that made his face look like a bad cartoon disguise and that stupid ass stretching cat sticker on the back of his clipboard that said “Keep on meow-ving.” Honestly, it’d be more clever if it was a cow.

Instead, his doctor was a young woman– no grey hairs in sight– with glowing brown skin and coily hair tied up in a bun. A curl slipped out in the back and brushed against her neck like a whisper. Her edges were laid sleek and even and she had clear lipgloss on that drew his attention to the dual-tone of her lips. The roundness of her nose suited her face and the pair of eyes that narrowed at her tablet through the bright light above her that reflected off of her blue-light glasses and created a harsh glare. His eyes flickered lower, observing her body now. She looked like your average woman, but at that moment, it felt like he had never seen anyone like her before. Of course, he’s never specifically seen her before. His head tilted slightly, bewildered by the bright pink of her shoes. They lit up. Aren’t Skechers for kids?

“Mr. A-Train.” Her tone was surprised. She seemed startled when he looked back at her face. She looked too young to be a doctor, but Viola is 58 going on 30, so. “What a.. A surprise– I should go get a doctor.”

“You aren’t one?” He asked, stopping you in your tracks. “Well, I figured as much.”

“I’m a student.” You explained hastily. The room quickly became awkward as your eyes trailed over his body, specifically his suit. Oh goodness. The suit. “I wasn’t aware I’d be dealing with such an important patient. This is my first internship.”

“I’m only here for a check-up. I trust you.” He scooched back on the exam table which was pretty awkward. The paper crinkled up and tore and rode up the bed. He grimaced and finally sat still.

“All right. Well, it’s an honor to meet you, A-Train.”

“Please, call me Reggie.” He cracked a grin, though. The fangirls never got old. Clearly he’s still pretty tight with the black crowd.

“Then it’s my pleasure, Reggie.” She put down her tablet after reading another line and removed her blue light glasses, setting them down over the now black screen. “It looks like your exam will be quick today. You’ve been keeping up with yourself.”

He audibly scoffed at that. Your brow cocked, and he waved it off with a dismissive hand to signal it was nothing. He watched you search the office for gloves and he debated telling you that they were in the drawer right to the sink. But he didn’t have to, you’d found them soon enough.

Once gloved and sanitized, you wheeled over the blood pressure machine and staggered in your steps wheeling the thing away to replace it with a stethoscope.

“Shouldn’t someone be watching you right now?” He asked. The question was more empathetic for your nervous fumbling, likely amplified by the fact that you were currently nursing your favorite hero. The force it took to remain professional was a force, all right.

“Yes. Technically.” You nodded your head and sighed. He sat up straight as you pressed the stethoscope to his chest. “But you know how it is in this economy. Deep breath in.”

He inhaled until his lungs couldn’t hold anymore air and exhaled on your call. The process repeated until you were satisfied and let him know that everything was fine, just some palpitations when he took his third deep breath. Likely due to the lifestyle changes. Believe it or not, that wasn’t as reassuring as one might think.

You told him not to worry as you strapped the blood pressure monitor around his arm. And strapped it again because you were bothered by the asymmetry.

“So, what are you studying?” He asked when the quiet got too loud. Well. When the sound of velcro got too loud.

“Uhm, nursing.” You replied, finally just sticking the damn thing and oh-welling it. You clipped the pulse ox on his index and turned on the machine. “But I already studied. I just got my license.”

“That’s good. We need more nurses.” He gave an approving nod.

“Everyone says that.” You shook your head with an amused smile. “Ever since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true.” Reggie looked at your smile, the way it curved your lips and your eyes narrowed just slightly. “You know, nurses don’t get enough credit.”

“That’s true.” He hadn’t registered that the monitor had inflated and deflated in the time it took for the two of you to talk and for him to stare at you like a creep. “Lookin’ good so far. Your blood pressure’s a little high, though. You been stressin’ out?”

“Nah, nah.” He shook his head immediately. “I think it’s just lifestyle changes.”

“Well, you don’t even need me here.” You teased as you wheeled the monitor and ox away. When you turned back around to look at him, your eyes drove over his body again. “In my professional opinion, if anything was stressing you out, I would suggest finding a way to relax.”

He felt a little self-conscious from the once-over. He didn’t let it be known, he just nodded.

“Hey…” He snapped back into reality by the sound of your voice, timid and a bit flustered. “I know this is way unprofessional, but I’m a huge fan. I’ve been kinda freakin’ out the whole time. Can I get a picture?”

“Sure.” he nodded, smiling wide from just the question alone. He leaned over into your side as you raised your phone, snapping a selfie with the hero and staring at it with awe.

“I’ll go get a doctor to check your blood pressure and other… stuff.” You walked over to the counter to pick up your tablet and blue light glasses. You put the latter on and typed something on the device. “You know. Medical stuff.”

“Thanks.” He read your nametag before you walked away and stored it in his memory. “It was nice meeting you. Hope to see you as an RN next time.”

“Thank you.” Your voice faded as you left the room, though you had turned back to flash a smile that made his heart stutter. In a good way this time.

The next time you encountered A-Train was after the whole rebrand fiasco was over. He’s able to run again thanks to that racist white dude’s heart transplant. Honestly, after hearing who the donor was and hearing about that shit-show apology through family friends, it turned you off from A-Train as a whole. But he had come to the clinic for a check-up off the clock.

You walked into the room, saw his face, and your smile dropped. Honestly– nobody was in the mood to look at his face after catering to the white folks. All that cultural begging he did just to turn around and grovel for a modern day Jon Burge.

“You got some nerve comin’ up in here.” You didn’t settle like you usually would. In fact, you hadn’t even closed the door. “You better get the fuck out my face.”

“I know.” He grimaced at the anger in your voice. “I don’t usually hear direct anger from the masses.”

“Yeah, well, you should read your comments on instagram.”

A-Train stared at his feet like a punished child. Eventually, he did look up after the door clicked shut. You hadn’t left and gotten another nurse.

“You said the next time you saw me, you hoped I’d be a nurse.” You said, setting down your clipboard and sitting in the swivel chair. “What’s up? ‘Nother exam?”

He nodded his head, suddenly mute under your gaze.

“I see you dropped that suit.” You put on sterile gloves and walked over to the monitor. “It was busted anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone said.”

You eyed him for a moment, let go of the monitor, and walked over with the stethoscope to listen to his lungs first. He watched your expression again this time. Not much had changed in six months, aside from the fact that you had more experience. And that you didn’t seem to like the A-Train anymore.

“You ain’t wanting to talk?” He asked, filling the silence once you went to grab the blood pressure monitor.

“Unless it’s medical concerns, no thanks.” You gave a half-hearted smile and strapped the velcro around his bicep. “Relax for me.”

You clipped the pulse ox on his finger and turned on the machine. He did relax his body, but he hated how the tension made it so difficult.

“I didn’t have a choice, you know.”

“He targeted black neighborhoods and arrested innocent people.”

“I tried to fix it.”

“He attacked them because they didn’t accept his bullshit apology.”

“I just wanted to make peace.”

“”I, I, I!”” You mocked, listening to the sound of the monitor inflating. “He paralyzed your brother.”

A-Train went quiet. The next minute was silent and you read the machine to take his vitals down on paper.

“Your blood pressure’s high.” You said.

“Really?” He asked, feigning incredulity. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Your rebrand didn’t work because you went at it from the perspective of a white person trying to be black. Like the OJ of Vought. Oh, you know what happen when you fuck with them white people?”

“All right, man.” He shook his head and you quickly regained your professionalism.

“You try-harded it. Be real. Don’t make it hard.” You removed the ox and rolled the machine over to the wall it was on. “You don’t gotta be Martin Luther King. You can be the Dr. Dre. Or the Ice Cube. Or even the Will Smith!”

He went to speak, but you continued,

“Any kind of black man but Samuel L. on Django. And that’s who you was actin’ like.” You waved your pen at him before you got to writing.

“Can I get your number?” He asked after a moment of letting your words stew. You looked up at him, a bit hesitant, then nodded.

“This is probably unprofessional, but I’m your nurse, not your doctor.”

“Why is that?”

“What do I look like wasting my best years to grow grey hairs before I’m 30?” You scoffed, writing down your number on the paper and handing it to him. “Hm. Don’t lose it.”

He nodded his head, glancing down at the phone in your pocket before looking back up at you.

“I wouldn’t. Maybe you can teach me to be the 2Pac of Supes.”

“Don’t push it. Nobody can be Makaveli.” You waved him off, but he was just happy to see your smile. He didn’t notice that he was smiling back until you shed your gloves and gestured to the door. “Walk with me, Reggie. I can still call you that, right?”

“Sure.” He stood up from his seat and opened the door like a proper gentleman. You exited first, and he followed at a respectful distance.

The next day, you got a text from none other than A-Train himself. It was a short request for a date. A sweet one, though. You had obviously accepted. Why not? Well… we know why not.

The restaurant was in a fancy high rise at the highest floor. It was close to the water, so you could smell the wet breeze when you stepped out of the taxi. If you were being modest; it felt way out of your league to be in a place like this. If you were being real; it felt exactly like what you deserved.

The elevator went up highhh. You stayed far away from the window looking out at the city. Whoever had the bright idea to make a glass elevator must laugh at people with a fear of heights.

You showed up to the spot in a sleek blue dress with a black pocket book. Your neck and wrist shone with faux diamonds, a matching set gifted by your mother for your birthday. Your earrings reflected the light of the restaurant, catching Reggie’s eye the moment you stepped out of the elevator’s doors and onto the polished marble floors.

The clack of your heels made Reggie nervous as you approached him at the host stand. He tried not to turn around too soon lest he embarrass himself by seeming desperate. You tapped his shoulder, immediately letting out a delighted hum.

“You smell good, Reggie.” You remarked. He turned to face you and broke out a large smile at the sight of you. A crown of coils framed your face, voluminous and puffy and undeniably soft. He could already tell. And you smelled like a sweet bakery.

“Thanks. You look amazing.” He said. He took your purse and the host guided the two of you to your table and went to retrieve a waiter. It had a view of the harbor. You always loved the look of water at night. “So… how are you tonight?”

You looked at him and shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m fine. Kind of hungry.” You said. He nodded. “I didn’t eat all day. I was waiting for this.”

“Yeah, same.” He hadn’t eaten because he was nervous.

The ambiance was giving. The moon was out and everything, not even a cloud was in the sky. Hurray for New York night time weather.

“Have you come here before?” You asked, hoping to make conversation and break the piano-lined silence between the two of you.

“No.” Reggie shook his head. He didn’t say anything after that. Your eyes flickered over to look at the water again, a slight grimace on your face. Did you just get an ick??? “B-But my friend has. You know, the Deep. He says it’s a pretty sweet spot.”

“You’re friends with–”

“I mean, not my friend anymore.” Reggie shook his head. Your grimace only deepened. He sucked his teeth, irritation replacing his anxiety. “I’m trying here.”

“So am I.” You gestured at him, “You gave me a one-worded answer.”

“Yeah, but I explained myself after.” He threw his hands up. “The Deep is an asshole. He’s not my friend. But when we were friends, he told me this place is good eats.”

You pursed your glossed lips and sat back in your chair. “You could have just said that.”

“I just did.”

You hummed to signal agreement and the vibe carried as it was. Awkward. At least until the waiter came and took your respective orders and brought out the food. You ate with little conversation, mostly about how nursing was turning out to be and how it was similar or different from what you imagined. The same topic came up for Reggie, but you asked regarding his job as a superhero.

The two of you left the restaurant together this time. He handed you your pocket book and you walked along the harbor.

“That lobster was good, right?” He asked. He was still staring at the path ahead, thinking about how that check woulda hurt his pockets back in the day.

“Yeah. It was great.” You agreed. Reggie could tell you weren't satisfied with the place. Honestly, if Deep is such an advocate for the sea, why did he rec that restaurant? Actually, he might have been bashing it. Nobody really listens to what that guy has to say. If you did, you’d hear how much of a dumbass he is.

“You’re still hungry?” He asked. He knew he was.

“Oh my gosh. Yes.” You sighed deeply, like the weight of breaking the shitty portions was off your shoulders. “That lobster tail had to be from a crawfish or somethin’. They are scamming. My mama made better pasta than that little bendy straw on my plate.”

Reggie laughed at your unabashed proclamations. He had no notes, he wholeheartedly agreed.

“Do you wanna get a sandwich?” He asked, side glancing the Jersey Mike’s a couple blocks over. “I been really craving a sub.”

“Yeah, but we taking a taxi, right?” You asked, because it looked like he was loosening his tie. “I’m not with that cheetah mess, Reggie.”

He scooped you up in his arms, eliciting a shriek. “Lucky for you, girl, I’m faster than a cheetah.”

Before you could protest, he flashed forward and you were outside the Jersey Mike’s in a blink. You eyed him as he put you down on your feet, one of which was missing a heel. You didn’t know if you were gonna puke or piss yourself. The city flashed before your eyes. He stared at your bare foot and decidedly removed the shoe that was left.

“You know, only wearing one shoe is bad luck.” He reminded you playfully.

“You’re paying for my new shoes.” You weren’t sure how to react than to just play it normal? How do you react? Either way, you meant that about the heels.

He nodded his head and lifted you up into the building so your feet wouldn’t touch the bare NYC sidewalk. What a gentleman. Your feet touched the cold linoleum of the Jersey Mike’s instead.

You ordered your usual sandwich and he ordered his own. Of course he paid for it. You ate in the restaurant and watched the cars pass by while you talked. Instead of the stiff conversation about jobs and work and employment– yes, all the same thing– you talked about your interests and what schools you went to, how you grew up, the stuff that actually matters. You ate half the sandwich before you tapped out. Reggie finished his and tossed the bag in the trash from his seat. You had to admit it was impressive.

You rewrapped your sandwich and put it into a plastic bag. Reggie helped you up from the booth and you gripped his hand.

“You’re not running me home.” You said firmly. “That was like flying in a plane with the window down.”

“I’d rather you compare me to black sonic.”

“Black sonic is knuckles.” You said, then paused. “Sonic is black.”

“We’ll take a taxi.” You held each other’s hands out the door and walked down the block until you found a taxi service to take you there.

The ride to your apartment wasn’t long. It was 34 minutes to get to your complex. Reggie paid the driver. You couldn’t help but feel good as you dug your keys out of your pocket book. A fine rich guy who pays for everything is any girl’s dream man. Your fantasy come true. Hell, maybe you’ll finesse him into paying your rent this month..

He caught up to your side as you unlocked and opened your door. Your apartment was on the ground floor. You turned to look at him, a curious expression on your face at the fact that he was still here.

“What?” You asked, pulling your door back closed as you faced him. Reggie tensed a bit, offering a small smile.

“I’m escorting you inside.” He said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes.

“Boy, bye. You’re not gettin’ any tonight.” You opened your door and stepped inside, wiped your feet on the mat, then turned back to him. “Come here.”

He leaned over into her space and you leaned in to kiss him. He tasted like salami and provolone. No surprises. You pulled away, patting his cheek.

“You got something. Goodnight.” You hung your key on the rack and held the doorknob.

“Goodnight.” You closed the door and Reggie listened to the lock click. He turned around, stretching his arms up and out. He ran home, feeling like a giddy high schooler who’d gotten his first kiss. A good night indeed.

You didn’t expect your relationship with A-Train to escalate into what it was. Not anything too serious… Well, yes serious. Dating is pretty serious if you’re not a dick, but moving in together was a huge step in the span of two months. Reggie finally left the Klan rally that had become Vought(what the hell was that mess with the Nazi and then the addition of Soldier Boy?) and he wanted you to be safe, therefore he had brought you along with him and his brother and his family overseas to escape Homelander. You never saw the hype in the guy. But you usually pay attention to the black heroes anyway. Your heart ached when Sage joined the All American pissing match. Not that you knew her, but she’s a black woman. That shit is universal.

Anyway, it sort of felt like a never ending vacation. Reggie hated referring to it as that, but it felt better than always calling it witness protection from a power-hungry manchild with his dick in his hands. Oh, yeah. Hearing the stories from Reggie made you pissed on his behalf. That willfully inbred colonizer got on your every nerve whenever you cut on the TV and saw his plastic smile.

And that is why the Franklins encourage you not to watch the news.

Speaking of which. Reggie walked into the bedroom with an authentic Italian pizza and a bottle of white wine.

After he left the Seven, he had gathered everyone up and they went straight to Florence. Obviously with some layovers to shake any suspicion. Once in Florence, he rented a condo in the city next to all the good food places. Of course.

Reggie set the pizza box down on the bed and climbed in beside you. The ragebaiting news had been erased from your mind, instead replaced with the heavenly scent filling your senses as soon as he opened the box.

“Mmm.” You pulled the box into your laps and picked up a slice. “What made you think of moving to Italy?”

He glanced at you sideways, “you asking now?”

“I’m not judging. It was a great choice.” You took a large bite from your slice and hummed with delight. “You’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

“What about your dad?” He asked proudly.

“Okay. Second best.” You corrected yourself with half seriousness. Reggie took a bite from your slice and you handed it to him instead. “I want to eat the crust.”

“Psychos like the crust.”

“Babies still complain about crust.”

He rolled his eyes, throwing his arm over your shoulder and leaning back against the headboard.

“What do you think about babies?” He asked. The hesitance in his tone was warranted, judging by the fact you stared at him like a madman. “Obviously not right away. Eventually.”

You relaxed. He handed you the crust of the pizza and you ate it.

“I at least want one girl and one boy.” You said, smiling fondly. “But I want a girl first. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

“A little mini me?” He asked. You nodded your head.

“I was real close with my mom coming up. I want that with a daughter.” You then shrugged your shoulders, “And if it’s a boy first, we’ll dress him up like a girl.”

“That’s not happening.” Reggie gave you a look and you reciprocated it with an equally challenging eyebrow raise. “He’ll be my mini me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He snorted. Despite the fact that it’d been a long road to get here and be this free, at least they were here. And so far, there hadn’t been anything or anyone to get in their way. Not even Homelander.

ᯓ★ AK: ANC-907 .ᐟ

Read this next!

@ellamyua ──★ ˙🍓 ̟!!

[notmeolive]

✶⋆.˚ vought archive,

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐯 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎… ⋙ ⋘ 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑑 ⋙

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: @ambiguous-avery 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: v-positive 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: active 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥: elevated 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬: breached

.𖥔˚ 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬,

⋆ compound v latches onto your capricorn stellium first—sun, mercury, venus, and mars all sitting there like mission control during a disaster. there is a huge amount of discipline in your chart, but not in a boring “i love spreadsheets” way. it’s more existential than that. you detach under pressure because some part of you knows panic wastes time, and feelings can be processed later when no one is bleeding, falling, or watching you make the wrong call. then your gemini moon keeps the mind moving fast, collecting information, switching angles, asking questions, while libra rising gives the outside this calm, composed, almost polished surface. compound v finds the part of you that stares at the stars because earth feels too small sometimes, then turns that distance into an actual field around you.

⋆ your manifested ability would be orbital suspension. you can create gravity pockets around objects, people, or yourself, holding them in controlled motion like tiny moons caught in orbit. when active, debris lifts around you in slow circles, lights bend at the edges, and the air gets quiet in this eerie, planetarium-dark way. you can stop bullets midair, suspend an enemy above the floor, redirect a falling body, or trap someone in a looping path where every attempt to move brings them right back to where you placed them. it’s celestial without being soft—less “sparkly star girl”, more “cold little god of controlled motion”. elegant. terrifying. extremely inconvenient for anyone trying to rush you.

⋆ your power intensifies when you feel cornered, rushed, emotionally overwhelmed, or forced to react before you have processed what is happening. capricorn mars wants control and precision, not chaos for chaos’ sake. gemini moon can split attention beautifully, but too much noise makes the field unstable, like too many satellites crowding the same orbit. saturn in aquarius adds a trigger around systems failing, rules being unfair, or people acting like consequences do not apply to them. and lilith in aries gives a sharp little anger response when someone tries to dominate you or make decisions for you. you may look detached in the moment, but the room will literally start floating before you admit you are upset. subtle? no. iconic? yes.

⋆ the drawback is emotional delay. your power works best when you compartmentalize, which means it rewards the coping mechanism where you go calm during the crisis and collapse later when nobody is looking. physically, overuse causes vertigo, pressure headaches, nosebleeds, muscle weakness, and a strange floating sensation that can last for hours after the field drops. emotionally, the cost is isolation. the more you can hold everything at a distance—danger, people, feelings, consequences—the harder it becomes to let anything actually reach you. venus in capricorn wants loyalty, steadiness, and proof over pretty words, but if you keep everything orbiting safely outside your chest, even love starts feeling like another object to manage.

.𖥔˚ 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞, ⌞ 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 ⌝

⋆ vought would name you starhold. it’s clean, celestial, heroic, and just corporate enough to sound like they tested it on six focus groups and a traumatised intern. “star” sells the wonder, the cosmic imagery, the awe of looking upward. “hold” sells protection, control, safety, the ability to stop disaster mid-fall. vought would pitch you as “the supe who keeps the world from falling apart”, which is gorgeous branding and also a deeply rude thing to put on someone who already processes feelings after the emergency is over.

⋆ publicly, vought would brand you as the elegant cosmic protector. dark glossy campaigns, constellation visuals, slow-motion rescue footage, maybe a fake partnership with some space education charity because they cannot help themselves. the public would see you as calm, intelligent, beautiful in a distant way, the supe who seems untouchable because nothing is allowed to crash when you enter the room. behind the scenes, though, vought would worry about how hard you are to emotionally steer. capricorn placements do not respond well to empty flattery, libra rising can smile through negotiations, and scorpio pluto/jupiter can smell when power is hiding something ugly. they would want you serene. you would be taking notes.

.𖥔˚ 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭,

⋆ your closest friend would be mm. he would respect your discipline, your control, and the fact that you do not need a dramatic speech to do the right thing. your capricorn stellium would mesh with his need for structure and accountability, while your gemini moon would keep the strategy sharp and flexible when plans inevitably go sideways because butcher exists. he would also be one of the few people who notices when your calm has gone from useful to unhealthy. you would irritate each other with stubbornness, absolutely, but the trust would be solid.

⋆ romantically and sexually, you would feel pulled toward a-train. your capricorn venus/mars would be drawn to ambition, drive, competence, and someone who knows what it means to build an identity around control of the body. your gemini moon would like his speed, quick wit, restlessness, and the fact that being around him would never feel mentally still. but this would be messy because you would also see every avoidance pattern in him. he runs before he feels. you detach before you feel. cute couple activity: emotionally postponing the issue until it becomes everyone’s problem. the attraction would be charged, frustrating, and weirdly tender if he actually lets himself slow down. healthy? possible only with accountability. toxic if he keeps lying. sexy? sadly, yes. annoying man has velocity.

⋆ you would clash badly with homelander. your chart does not like unstable authority, and homelander is basically a tantrum with national security clearance. capricorn placements respect earned power, not entitlement. libra rising can play polite, but lilith in aries hates being dominated, and saturn in aquarius hates systems built around one unaccountable person. he would hate your power too because you could stop movement, suspend impact, and make him feel momentarily contained. homelander does not like being reminded that even gods can be held in place. you wouldn’t need to insult him. the silence would do it.

⋆ the boys would recruit you for containment, extraction, and disaster control. you could stop bullets, hold collapsing structures, suspend enemies without killing them, and buy precious seconds when everything goes wrong. mm would trust your restraint. hughie would be quietly awed and probably ask too many questions about whether floating feels weird. frenchie would call your power “a little universe in the palm”. butcher would like the tactical usefulness but get annoyed when you refuse sloppy collateral damage. they would not try to kill you unless you started using containment as control rather than protection. mostly, they would worry vought would turn you into a cosmic-looking prison system with good lighting.

⋆ you could almost make it into the seven, but vought would hesitate because your image is almost too controlled. you are marketable, elegant, cosmic, powerful, and visually stunning on camera, but you don’t have the easy emotional accessibility they like in public assets. plus, your power is excellent at stopping other supes, and that makes people nervous at the top. homelander would not want someone around who can make him feel held in place, even briefly. vought would likely keep you as a high-value specialist asset: too impressive to hide, too useful to discard, too dangerous to place fully inside the seven without making everyone in the boardroom sweat.

.𖥔˚ 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬,

compound v did not give you the stars. it gave your distance gravity and made the whole room orbit what you refused to feel—⌞ 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⌝

want to know what compound v would do to you? file access is open through my ko-fi. ⌞ breached ⌝

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Requests open :)

Kay I totally changed my minddd I wanna write. Send me requests for Star Wars or the boys! I haven’t written in a bit so I might be rusty but im feeling ✨inspired✨ I’ll write just about anything except the obvious no nos and the characters I can write for are in my pinned post near the bottom but also anyone I tagged :D

[moved-to-flomelias]

the boys ; nsfw alphabet!

requested by no one, tagging @ginghampearlsnsweettea! afab, feminine reader. includes a-train. warning for nsfw. fandom masterlist found here. 📚 . . . author notes: this is mostly gn but i defaulted to an afab fem reader for certain hcs, thus the labeling. but now i’m thinking of him with a boyfriend.. maybe amab masc reader hcs soon…

a-train

— a = aftercare — i think he’s very gentle throughout the whole affair, so i imagine he’d continue a sort of tender and sweet demeanor afterwards. depending on how much time reggie has with you, he’ll help you clean yourself up with a bath or get you into some fresh clothes. lots and lots of kisses follow, always. you’re his baby, he adores you.

— b = body part — i dunno your favorite part of him but his favorite part of you is probably your lower half! specifically your legs and feet. he’s not beating the feet allegations so just make sure you have them cleaned up nice at all times. i think a-train would like legs more than feet though, god, a good pair of legs really gets him going. just the natural curve of them.. skinny or muscular or fat, they’re gorgeous.

— c = cum — dare i say his cum tastes better than homelander’s.. i have a very strong vision. i think it has a taste that makes it clear he eats a healthy balance of all foods and stays hydrated.

— d = dirty secret — it’s not unusual for him to kiss at your feet and legs for foreplay.. also, he loves when his baby gets pedicures for him. i think the real dirty secret is that he wouldn’t mind trying pegging with you (but it has to be on a good day, lol).

— e = experience — trust me when i say reggie knows what he’s doing a good 90% of the time, esp with regular, vanilla sex. he’s only inexperienced in giving head & more taboo stuff like pegging & toy usage. he’s good at what he knows how to do!

— f = favorite position — any position where he can grip your thighs / hips / ass. as long as he grope and rub on that general area of your body, he’s fine. i think he’d also enjoy seeing your face but it’s not strictly necessary. casually down for anything as long as you’re sweet about asking.

— g = goofy — he’s not serious in the moment but he’s not silly about it? usually he tries to be sweet and romantic about sex. if a-train makes a mistake and you happen to laugh, sure, he’ll joke with you on it. but he’s not going out of his way to be a comedian most of the time. he’s definitely not formal about sex.

— h = hair — very clean, likes to make sure it looks appealing down there. you’re supposed to want to fuck him, lol. i do think if you wanted him to change the way he cleans or shaves himself, he’d follow along with it.

— i = Intimacy — reggie is extremely romantic ( or attempts to be ) every time he has sex with you. even with lustful quickies, he’s whispering and groaning about how perfect you are. oh, you’re so good to him. he likes to make sure you know that he loves you. even if you’re just fuckbuddies, there’s a level of respect that he finds himself hinting at in the moment. only you, it’s only you for him.

— j = jack off — can & will masturbate anywhere if he’s desperate enough. supe libido is nothing to play with!!! sometimes he’ll facetime or call you while he’s jacking off — not that you’d know, he’s pretty good at keeping a straight face.

— k = kink — i think he’d have a bunch of lil “interests” that could grow into full fledged kinks but like. haven’t, yet. like a-train enjoys dominant woman, he likes it when you take charge.. but he hasn’t fully delved into like, dommy mommy type stuff? same with voyeurism, he’s not willing to let the public see just because of his reputation but maybe you could set up a camera sometime?

— l = location — your bed, his bed, & dressing / changing rooms. those are his favorite places. the beds are an obvious choice, especially yours because it just feels better there, for whatever reason. but dressing rooms, the cramped space where you’re left alone to touch up your makeup.. mm, let him in!!! he makes every ten to fifteen minute outfit change into a quickie.

— m = motivation — reggie loves it when you strut, when you move your legs in that sexy, scandalous way. when you bend over or stretch up to reach for something, showing off yourself.. it gets him going just to see you walk sometimes. god forbid he sees you masturbating — it’s over, you’re going to poundtown.

— n = no — no face sitting, sorry everyone! he doesn’t find it appealing, even as he dabbles into giving head more. in my opinion, he also wouldn’t like bondage. like.. ever.

— o = oral — definitely receives more than he gives oral but i think he’d slowly learn and try giving it more for you. a-train’s inexperienced with giving head but he’s attentive enough to figure out what you do and don’t like through trial and error.

— p = pace — definitely on the faster side but he tries not to be rough because.. it would be super awkward if he accidentally super-speed fucked you to death. talks a lot during the whole affair, i think his words are the sensual and romantic part and his actions are usually more lustful.

— q = quickie — in his ideal world, you guys would have a quickie every single time you see each other. but alas, reality is disappointing… on a serious note, reggie loves quickies. loves to make you feel good midday, esp if you work at vought. mid office hours, he’s reminding you of the joys of life that are often forgotten the harsh corporate environment.

— r = risk — down to experiment, especially if it’s something you have experience with! makes him feel a lot more comfortable. a-train doesn’t often bring up new things to the table, he more or less gets into everything he likes the first few times you fuck.

— s = stamina — he lasts. he lasts. that’s all you need to know. you guys stop when you say to, not him. his stamina is nothing to go by.

— t = toys — does not use toys! he’s never had toys used on him, though once or twice a partner wanted him to use a toy on them and he obliged. generally inexperienced here.

— u = unfair — a-train is so in love with you, he doesn’t really like to make you whine or beg. he’ll tease a little, just to make you pout or lightly scold him but if he ever senses you getting desperate or agitated, he’ll be quick to concede and give you what you want. doesn’t mind being teased to the brink btw.. if you were curious..

— v = volume — can manage his noises and stay quiet when necessary but prefers not to. reggie’s generally loud and vocal to encourage the same behavior from you. he loves hearing you moan, loves hearing the two of you grunting together.

— w = wild card — i think he’d be more than happy to make at home movies with you that you guys can watch. videos for when you to watch when he’s busy, vice versa, videos for certain holidays, roleplay-esque ones. you guys would have to make new ones frequently because he’d delete the older ones for safety & privacy. the public CANNOT get their hands on them.

— x = x-ray — i’m not very good at describing penises. this one is up to your imagination 🫶 #peace

— y = yearning — supe libido. i believe that all supes have higher libidos generally but he’s definitely on the higher end of that. a-train’s drive will NEVER slow ‼️

— z = zzz — considering you guys only stop when you say to, he’s usually not tuckered out much from the sex. he does nap with you anyways though when he can because life is tiring and your arms are so comforting.. reggie makes sure you’re as clean as you like to be, makes sure you’re comfortable too before settling beside you for a while.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey Slay boy, it’s me again. There’s not a lot of content for literally any of them so can I get like A-Train, (not the deep), MM, Frenchie, and some of Hughie

A-Train, MM, Frenchie and Hughie, as boyfriends

Headcanons

couldnt find any good gif, so i just chose this one

Reginald “Reggie” Franklin, “A-train”

Dating Reggie means you most likely are also a supe, maybe even someone well known in the community, since he cares a lot about his image.

Though, I also can see him being super open about being in a relationship with a man, since that would greatly affect his image and how people see him. So expect to be on the downlow with A-train, he still loves you though.

Later on, after everything, Reggie might start thinking about being public with his relationship with you, since you mean so much to him and he wants to be able to stand side by side with you even in public.

He still cares a lot about his image, and wants to appear as the best version of himself, so he probably acts kinda fake in public, but is more emotional and available in private.

Is a secret cuddlebug in private, and craves your approval and attention the most. Is scared hes not good enough for you, so he needs the reassurance.

Marvin T. Milk, “Mothers Milk”

M.M is a more put together partner, and is probably the best out of all of these guys to talk about his feelings, as he seems the type to sit down and talk about it, if either of you have issues in your relationship.

He always keeps a slight eye on you at most times to keep you safe, no matter where you are, since he still suffers from the fear of losing parts of his family.

Needs a daily checkup on you if you guys are ever apart, or else he cant sleep at night because he has a deep instinctual fear that Soldier Boy has somehow killed you too, so do keep that in mind if you ever travel somewhere without him.

Outside of his hate for soldier boy and his want for revenge, I could see M.M as the most likely to be able to have a domestic healthy relationship with.

Serge, “Frenchie”

Cares very deeply for his partner, so much it can put him in danger at times. If you get hurt, he loses track of what he was doing which can be dangerous.

He doesn’t appear the type to others, but I can imagine Frenchie is quite the romantic when it comes down to it. He would bake you treats in his free time, take you on dates or just have dates at home if you guys cant go out, the likes.

The type to compliment you In another language, mainly to himself under his breath, but in the morning when you guys wake up he would mumble about how handsome you are and how much he loves you.

Teaches you how to use most weapons in case you need it, or how to recognize most drugs to make sure you don’t get drugged, or any chance you might need that knowledge.

Hughie Campbell

A softy and is probably the one who loves to cuddle the most, is also most likely the most open about his relationship status. Doesn’t feel any shame about his sexuality, because as long as it’s you, he doesn’t care what others thing.

Comes to you for comfort or to feel safe after everything happens, just needs to lay in your arms and shake and cry to himself, as being held by you is enough. It might take a bit for him to tell you what’s bothering him, as he doesn’t want you to get hurt because of him.

The one who likes to borrow your clothes and wear it, even if you are smaller than him. If you have any hoodie that might fit him, hes stolen it at least a few times. Likes to be surrounded by your scent.

It takes a little bit, but after he starts, he tells you he loves you any chance he gets. Both because hes scared of losing you or himself dying, but also just to make sure you know.