knockoffheart

[knockoffheart]

Neuman’s Guard Dog (3/3)

summary: no better way to unwind after committing murder than getting absolutely destroyed by your morally grey girlfriend <3 god i wish that were me (minus the murder)

warnings: SMUT, fingering(r receiving), blood play (one small instance), fully clothed(victoria) x completely nude(r), fingering from behind, top Vic, alcohol ment. (red wine), proposal ment. , overstim, ment. of suicide (nothing serious), you could consider it angst if you feel so inclined, GENERAL ‘THE BOYS’ disclaimer

before you read: Reader is aware of Vic's blood powers. NOT aware of Vic's head explosions (ex. congress attack), relationship to Stan Edgar, The Boys (especially Hughie being involved). Sameer and Zoe do not exist in any of my AUs. Reader has been in life-threatening situations before, not a fan of them, but has been in at least two before.

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A storm rages outside, its howling wind puts you on edge — something deep inside you stirs. Victoria senses your newly tensed state and rubs your shoulders.

“Why don’t I go get us some celebratory wine?” she chimes.

She takes your grin back at her as a ‘yes’ and starts downstairs. You stand and strip, the nightwear Victoria provided you is comfortable but it isn’t yours. The garments carry the weight of your temporary prison, a place you long to forget. You fold and set them on the dresser. Your girlfriend returns before you can open your pajama drawer.

Victoria stalks into the room, eyeing your nude body. She slinks up behind you and places an empty wine glass into your hand, you let out a sigh of satisfaction and lean back into her.

“Well now this is unfair,” you tease, “This is the second time today I’ve been completely naked while you’ve been in that damn suit.”

Victoria wraps her arms around your waist, one hand holds her own empty glass while the other holds the bottle of wine. She coos a fake apology into your ear. The scent of red wine lingers on her breath, you scoff and tap your empty cup.

“Double unfair!” you taunt.

Victoria laughs and raises the bottle to pour, you can’t see the roguish grin she wears behind you. She jerks her arm and the bottle tips, a stream of red wine splashes onto your chest and drizzles its way down your body. You gasp out and push her back jokingly.

“Oh! You so did that on purpose!” you accuse.

She laughs and sets the glass and bottle of the dresser before guiding you back against it.

“I did—“ she purrs, “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”

Victoria trails kisses from your collarbone to chest. She drags her tongue down the trail of wine. She kneels and places soft kisses at your stomach, leaving a smattering of lip prints as she makes her way down to your thighs. Vic laps at the wine droplets that have pooled on your inner thigh. Her licks and suckles are planned and precise, she’s toying with you. You bite down on your index finger, trying to compose yourself against her incessant teasing. Though, you’ve forgotten about your newly sharpened canines; a fang pricks the tip of your finger and a small droplet of blood starts to form.

“Ah-“ you wince and retreat back to your beside table to grab a tissue.

Victoria studies you curiously, she watches as a few drops dribble onto your palm. Slowly, she lurks beside you; practically purring in your ear as she raises your hand up to her lips. She licks across your palm before encasing your finger into her mouth, sucking on the wounded digit.

You gasp and an exhilarated chill runs through you. Her deep brown eyes meet yours as she pulls away. The corners of your mouth furl upward in astonishment.

“Fuck, Vicky….” you whimper.

“You know what’s unfair? Every part of you tastes so fucking good,” Victoria coos as she bends you down against the bed.

Her fingers rub in between your slightly spread legs. She mumbles praises under her breath as she watches how your body reacts. A moan of approval falls from her mouth when she pulls her fingers away, a sticky trail connects them to your core. Firm slaps against your ass causes pathetic sobs to spill from you. This display causes Victoria to purse her lips together in attempt to stifle a whimper. You feel her start to rub furiously at your clit. She slides two slender fingers into your sopping cunt and pumps with the same fervor from before.

You grab fistfuls of the bedsheet and bite down softly on your hand as Victoria fingers you from behind. Your attempts to self-control don’t go unnoticed.

“Awh, I don’t think so baby, don’t hide those pretty sounds — Hands behind your back” Victoria orders.

You obey and instantly Victoria locks your wrist together with her free hand. This position leaves you lying head first into the bed, your face is wet with your own tears and drool — Victoria wishes she could frame this view in her mind.

“Fuck-“ Victoria lays against you, pinning you down onto the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” she pants, “All mine.”

“Y-yes, yours… A-All yours! ” you stammer, “H-Hah… Fuck…”

Your brain feels fuzzy, like the static buzzing off of an old tv. Your body tremors, you’re about to reach your limit and all you can do is mewl and listen to Victoria’s moans flood your mind. She presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek and slides her free hand against your throat. She urges you to let go. You cry and spill into her palm, coating her fingers.

She rides out your high, relishing every twitch and whimper you produce. She smacks your cunt a few times, the wet slaps leave you in a trembling heap. The pathetic noises you make turn into choked croaks and she finally relents. You try to steady yourself, but your legs aren’t quite ready to support you yet. Victoria sprawls out on the bed, pulling you close to her, she has a thin layer of sweat on her forehead but the rest of her remains pristine. You’re a mess — Victoria strokes your hair and kisses your forehead anyways.

“You’re perfect,” she hums. “My perfect girl.”

Her fingers trail up and down your body. She takes in your figure and drowns in your half-lidded eyes. You look so fragile, sickeningly sweet.

“I really mean it,” she affirms, “If anyone hurts you, I’ll fucking kill them.” Her grip on you tightens slightly.

The statement reminds you of the incident at the hotel room. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably and you play with the hem of Victoria’s suit. You try and muster up the courage to speak your next words aloud.

“Hughie knows…” you trail off, “He saw me.” An imaginary news article flashes in your mind.

‘CIA Affiliate, Hughie Campbell, Found Dead

Suicide by two gunshots in the back of the head…’

The thought of your old friend being murdered by your girlfriend makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. Victoria still hasn’t responded.

“He helped me,” you blurt.

Anger boils in Victoria’s chest, she should have been the one to save you. She imagines the state he might have found you in and seethes. Would he use you against her? Expose your new power to the world to get back at her? He wouldn’t. Right?

“Vicky?” you whisper.

“He’s a good guy.” She states, “He wouldn’t do anything to harm you.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“You worry about me too much,” she teases.

She kisses you, mostly to get your mind off the topic at hand. She feels you start to melt into her, then she feels you fight against it. Her nails dig a little too hard into the flesh of your hips and you pull away from the kiss. She doesn’t acknowledge her roughness, instead she rises and pulls you up.

“We should really go to sleep,” she chides. “I’d like to get some sleep before the insanity of tomorrow…”

You nod and yawn, seemingly reminded of how tired you really are.

-

You grab a set of silk pajamas and head to the bathroom to do your nightly routine. Victoria follows suit. She opens her dresser drawer and grabs a nightgown; a small, sleek box stares back at her. It holds the engagement ring she’s bought for you, the black velvet void of the box calls to her — Do it, before it’s too late. She closes the drawer quickly and takes a deep breath before joining you in the bathroom.

Victoria will propose. She’ll tell the world about you; you deserve that. There are so many dirty secrets and she doesn’t want you to be one of them.

You fall asleep spooning her, your soft breath tickles her neck and lures her closer to slumber. But, there is an unrelenting, festering feeling in her stomach that won’t let her sleep. Her web of lies is caving in on itself and you’re tangled up in the middle. She reminds herself you are not hopeless prey curled up next to its killer; she will protect you.

The bloodied hotel room flashes in her mind — a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her hand rests upon yours and she strokes the bare ring finger. Do it, before it’s too late.

|

<- previous page

authors note: omg it’s 5am and i finished this.. one very sleepy read through later… i’ll do a more focused clean up when i awaken. anyways i will be writing a sappy proposal fic me thinks… but im on a queen maeve kick rn so that’ll come later… PLS SUGGEST THINGS FOR ME TO WRITE in my ask box!! <3

fuel my writing -> tips or reblog,like,comment!

[knockoffheart]

update aug. 22

hi everyone! thank you for all the support, it is so encouraging! anyways — pt 3 to guard dog is in progress, next up is going to be a big story about when Maeve was imprisoned in Vought’s little cell thing by Homelander (it will feature “Replicate” who is an OC of mine, but the story is written in 2nd person so you can envision yourself!)

anyways that’s all for now! thank you again!

if you have any suggestions for writings you want to see pls send them to my ask box!

[knockoffheart]

Neuman’s Guard Dog (2/3)

summary: you’ve been kidnapped by your girlfriends dad AND you’re a supe — ay caramba! she’ll come looking for you…right?

warnings: kidnapping, hurt/comfort, graphic descriptions of bodily harm, murder, violence, blood, reader turned supe, body horror, neuman is not a good person (but we still love her), mentions of politics, general ‘The Boys’ show disclaimer, also NO SMUT (rip)

before you read: Reader is aware of Vic's blood powers. NOT aware of Vic's head explosions (ex. congress attack), relationship to Stan Edgar, The Boys (especially Hughie being involved). Sameer and Zoe do not exist in any of my AUs. Reader has been in life-threatening situations before, not a fan of them, but has been in at least two before.

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Victoria has gotten word of a disturbance in her room, it appears to be another assassination attempt but security assures her it has been handled. The only casualties are the two assailants. They also let her know about reports of a suspicious van outside the premises. She says she’ll handle it from here. Victoria stalks her way towards the van, her heels echo rhythmically into the night. Upon reaching the van, she sends the door flying open, startling the man inside.

“Hey, Hughie” Victoria taunts.

“Fuck me!” Hughie shoots up, flailing his arms wildly.

“Sheesh– Jumpy tonight, are we? Looks like your lil’ CIA guys got busted…” Victoria dawns a smug grin,  “She make quick work of them?”

“Quick work? Jesus Christ, you’re fucking evil! I can’t believe you’d do that to her. Really, that’s low…. even for you.”

Victoria chuckles, “Evil? I’m not the one who attacked her, am I? You sent those fuckers in there to kill me — and they paid for it. Without me giving her V, she’d be dead! And whose fault would that be?”

      “Oh that’s fucking rich! I mean, this was your plan all along now wasn’t it?” Hughie accuses, “Getting close to her so you can turn her into your fucking guard dog?!”

“That’s not-” Victoria unintentionally lets out a strained laugh, “You know that isn’t true, I love her. You know I do.”

“Do you?” Hughie laughs in disbelief, “Have you even been up there? Seen what she’s done? She’s a fucking monster.”

“She-” Victoria stammers and is cut off by Hughie.

“She ripped out a guy’s neck, Vic, with her teeth!” he shouts. “You have fucking ruined her… and you don’t even care!”

“I-”

“Do you even know where she is right now?”

Victoria doesn’t respond. She has no idea where you are right now– it hasn’t even crossed her mind until this moment. Her eyes narrow and she glares at Hughie.

“Where is she?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh, now you care-”

“I’m not going to ask you again. Where is she?” She grips the side of the van in an attempt to control her bubbling temper.

Hughie shakes his head in disbelief. He turns to his computer and clicks through security cam footage, looking to see where you might have run off to. He watches video of you walking into the alley.

“Oh shit…”

He taps his leg anxiously and turns screen towards Victoria. The footage shows a Vought Security van pulling up next to the alley. Several armed men get out, one of them holds a tranquilizer in their hand. The screen goes still for a few beats before the men reappear, dragging your limp body to the van and throwing it in. The clip ends with the van peeling off into the night. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit-“ Victoria backs up, the back of her head hits the barrel of Butcher’s gun. Surprise.

“And that’s all the help you’ll be getting from us.” Butcher mutters and pulls the trigger. BANG! 

Unaffected, Victoria cracks her neck and turns around, “All I needed.” 

Victoria heads away from the van and pulls out her phone, dialing Stan Edgar once she’s back inside the hotel. The call goes to voicemail and she rings again as she rides the elevator up to your room’s floor. Voicemail again. She swears and shoves the phone into her pocket. There is a “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the room’s doorknob. Victoria inserts the room’s card anyway and pushes the door open.

She reels back from the sight and smell that wafts from the room. A rustling in the kitchen draws her in. She holds her breath and carefully steps over the strewn organs and pools of blood. She eyes the bloody handprint on the wall and hovers her hand over it. It’s yours. Her stomach churns and she pulls her hand away. There’s no denying it who made this mess anymore. She moves towards the kitchen and is startled by the cleaning crew, they are clad in Vought Tech coveralls. They pay her no mind and continue schlepping various body parts into black trash bags. She decides there is nothing more to see and attempts to dial Stan again, but is halted by an extremely stressed congresswoman.

“Ms. Neuman! Oh thank god, counting is about to wrap up — they’ve called Arizona, you and Singer are up! Let’s go, they’re waiting!” 

The woman grabs her arm and hauls Victoria to the elevator, who forces a smile though her annoyance still trickles through her eyes. She manages to send Stan Edgar one hurried text before being dragged into the lobby full of mingling congressmen. 

‘WHERE IS SHE’ read 8:07pm

-

You wake up in a room clad in all white. Your body rests against the cool laminated floor, intense white light shines above. You let out a soft groan as you raise steady yourself into a seated position. As you go to move hair out of your eyes, your arms jerk back and you notice your wrists are tied together with a chain. The chain leads back to the wall. You shake your head quickly and rise to your feet. A louder groan escapes you when you’re finally steady. You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus. Your mind is groggy and the harsh fluorescents on the ceiling don’t help you one bit. Your stomach lurches from the overwhelming scent of blood, your kidnappers didn’t bother with hosing you down.

The events of the hotel room run around in your mind. You remember the ringing in your ears, from the gun fire, the screams. The bullets digging their way into your skin, some flying clean through while others burrowed within. You remember the blood. The smell, the taste, the feeling of all that fucking blood.

You’re a quivering, crying mess. It’s all just too much! You’re supposed to be at some eccentric bar nursing your third cocktail, cuddled up next to Victoria. Her arm would be wrapped around you, you’d be laughing and people would be saying ‘Vic, How could you hide this one from us?’. She’d kiss you and you’d smile at the taste of the liquor on her lips — the feeling of her lipstick staining your mouth. You wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Instead, you’ve returned to a crumpled heap on the ground, burying your face into your arms. You hurt everywhere, you’ve killed two people, you’ve turned into a fucking monster and you don’t even know where you are! You pinch your hand, trying to wake yourself up from a dream. A few weak sobs sputter from you as you feel the primal fear from before creeping its way up your spine. You murmur calming words to yourself, stopping abruptly when you hear footsteps clicking towards you.

You fly back against the wall, using it to steady yourself on two feet. Your eyes are saucers as you keep your sights trained on the door. You hold your breath as it creaks open.

Victoria appears in the doorway, her red coat contrasts with the stark exterior of the hall. Her eyes are nearly as wide as yours. She rushes you, pulling you into her arms and dropping to her knees. You heave a giant breath of relief, a flood of cries follow. She cups your cheeks and places a kiss on your lips. Victoria cradles you close to her and shouts an order at someone behind her.

Suddenly, the chains clink off your wrists and work their way back to the wall. You have so much you want to say to Victoria, but all you can manage to do is cry her name.

“It’s okay baby, I know” she helps you to your feet and leads you outside the cell, “You’re okay, I’m here now. I’m here.”

“Vic-“ you choke out.

“Shh, let’s get you clean first, okay?” her voice is trembling.

-

Victoria wraps a plush towel around your body, she grabs a smaller cloth and dabs your face try.

“Vic, I can-“

“Let me take care of you, baby.” Victoria hushes you, she is sweet in her actions but her voice is stern.

She’s spiraling and taking care of you is the only thing stopping her from teetering over the edge. She’s hid so much from you and now it’s all staring back at her. She will figure out a plan later, she always does. What matters to her right now is that you’re safe. She holds you close to her, squeezing you tight against her figure.

You blush at the feeling of your mostly nude body being pressed against Victoria’s fully clothed one. You lean your head back against her and flash a foolhardy grin. She returns a softer smile, but her grip remains firm.

“Victoria, A word please?” a man’s voice calls from outside the bathroom.

Victoria turns you towards her and pulls you in to a deep kiss, then peppers your whole face in smaller kisses.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Victoria assures before planting one final kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be right outside.”

You feel a protest rise to the tip of your tongue but you hold it. You slip on the clothes Victoria provided you with, it’s a large sweater and some flannel pajama pants. Your face flushes with embarrassment at the thought of you and Vic standing next to each other. She’s dressed in a perfectly pressed suit and killer heels, you look like a bum. A comfy bum. You hum to yourself as you kick your feet into the pair of slippers Victoria left near the bathmat. Who would have thought this kidnappers lair would have such nice amenities. The conversation outside the door grows louder and you can’t help but eavesdrop.

“What have you done to that girl?” the man reprimands.

You can’t make out Victoria’s response, only able to decipher that it isn’t a pleasant one.

“You know I will always be here for you, I have your best interests at heart, always.” The man’s voice always remains calm, “If she isn’t in your best interest, you know what I have to do.”

That sounded like a threat. You decide to go back to minding your own business. You lift up your shirt and examine your torso, it’s coated in black and blue bruises but you see no scars. You graze a finger over it and wince, it’s incredibly tender. Victoria enters and you let your shirt drop, focusing your attention back on her. She approaches you and takes your hand, pulling you against her. You look over her shoulder and catch the man she was talking to as he walks away. You recognize him as Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought. Uh oh.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, there’s a car around back for us.” Victoria says before guiding you through the building.

You discover you were housed in the basement of a skyscraper. It is hugged by several other buildings, you don’t recognize any of them. A black SUV waits for you as you head towards the street. Victoria opens the door for you and you hop inside, she pulls you against her so your head rests on her shoulder. When the car pulls away your body relaxes and you feel exhausted, you intertwine your fingers with Victoria’s and take in her scent.

You jolt up, “The election! Shit! Did you win? You need to be the-“

Victoria laughs and kisses your hand, “We won.”

You let out a soft, yet giddy squeal and squeeze her hand, “Holy shit!! You’re incredible!” You stare at the clock ahead of you and bounce your leg anxiously.“It’s only 1:00am, maybe you can still make it back to the party?”

She gives you a confused look, “I’m not going to any party. We’re going home.”

You smile at her softly and nuzzle back into her. Your heavy eyes finally close and you doze off.

-

When you awake, you look outside the window and recognize the street you’re on as your own. Victoria helps you out of the car and into the house. Your body melts at the familiar smell of home, it reminds you of the first night you moved in. You reach the bedroom and plop yourself onto the bed. You look up to see why Victoria hasn’t joined you — she’s leaned against the doorway, crying.

“Vic?“ you sit up and motion for her to sit with you. “Talk to me, honey.”

Victoria bites down on her nails and stumbles over to the bed. She doesn’t touch you until you place your hand on her thigh, then she throws her arms around you and sobs into your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry-“ she cries. “I shouldn’t have- I’m so-“ she chokes on her words.

You stroke her hair and kiss her head.

“I know. Vic, I told you-“ you press another kiss against her head, “I told you I’d do anything for you —I will. I always will. I love you.”

Victoria raises her head and kisses you desperately, you both crash into the soft, pillowy mattress and continue your embrace. She mutters how much she loves you and slides her hands around your waist.

“If anyone touches you again, I’ll fucking kill them”

You laugh at her as she attacks your neck with kisses and bites. You hope she’s joking, but with this new presidential power — she might not be.

|

> back

> next

authors note: yeah there’s gonna be a part three i need them to have sex right neowww!!! also this is a 4:00am post I REPEAT A 4:00am post! it’s been proof-read once — any mistakes will be fixed when i wake up thank yewww

[tips]

[knockoffheart]

Neuman's Guard Dog (1/3)

summary: desperate times call for desperate measures. victoria neuman has procured a vial of compound V and intends to use it on you. she can't always be there to protect you.

warnings: drug coercion, hurt/comfort, graphic descriptions of bodily harm, murder, violence, blood, reader turned supe, body horror, neuman is not a good person (but we still love her), mentions of politics, general ‘The Boys’ show disclaimer, also NO SMUT (rip)

before you read: Reader is aware of Vic's blood powers. NOT aware of Vic's head explosions (ex. congress attack), relationship to Stan Edgar, The Boys (especially Hughie being involved). Sameer and Zoe do not exist in any of my AUs. Reader has been in life-threatening situations before, not a fan of them, but has been in at least two before.

Tensions are rising across the country, the world is getting more dangerous by the minute. There has already been two attempts on Victoria's life, she's made certain you are unaware of this; she's made certain you know nothing of Butcher and his "Boys". The risk of you being hurt because is far too high.

She promises she will make your relationship public after the election, but she's lying. If the world finds out about you, you're dead. Homelander, Butcher, Stan Edgar... they all have the power to kill you, they just need to see the big shiny target on your back first.

-

The hotel room you are staying at is lavish, it makes you feel like a celebrity — which is appreciated when you're really just the Vice President elect's paramour. In reality, you know you're more than that, but being sealed in this room doesn't make you feel like it. You're lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, listening to a TV reporter cover the election in the background. You pull out your phone and check the voting map, it's more of the same. You groan and roll over, longingly awaiting Victoria's return. The monotonous voice of the reporter lulls you to sleep, only for you to be awoken shortly afterwards by Victoria’s gentle voice.

"I know I was gone longer than I said I would be," she closes the door behind her and sits next to you on the bed, "C'mere."

Victoria motions for you to lay your head in her lap and you oblige. She plays with your hair and stares at the television. Her silence causes you to turn on your back to get a better look at her face. Though her gaze is transfixed towards the screen, you notice her mind is elsewhere.

"You okay, honey?" you ask.

Victoria purses her lips and meets your eyes. Her serious expression causes you to sit up straight. Oh shit, she's gonna’ dump me. You shift uncomfortably, preparing for what's to come.

"I won't always be here to protect you. I- ... I can't deal with the thought of you getting hurt when I'm not around… I’m scared something is going to happen to you." Victoria takes your hands in hers, "I need you to do this for me."

She pulls out a capped needle full of blue liquid. You furrow your brows and gawk at her.

"W-Why do I need to... Vic, what is that?" you question.

The unnatural color of the liquid makes you uneasy. The only time you've seen that color is in TV shows about meth. Oh my god, does she want me to do meth? Your eyes widen even more. Why the fuck would she want me to do meth!?

"Compound V," she sets the needle down on the bed next to you. "It... It's what gave me my powers."

Not meth. You let out a sigh of relief, which is quickly replaced by a gasp of concern.

"Why do I need to take that!? What kind of danger am I in?" you yelp.

Victoria remains silent and looks away. You lean towards her, she's crying. Your stomach drops and you can't figure out what to say.

“Please. Just. Take. It." She places her hands on her face in an attempt to self pacify, "You'll be okay. I took it when I was a child and I'm fine. It is literally the only way for me to guarantee your safety, please." Her lip trembles.

You're speechless. She's never begged for anything before, let alone cried for it. You bounce your leg anxiously, working up the courage to do or say something. You grab her hand and pick up the needle.

"Okay. I-I will. I'll do it," you steady your voice, but your hand shakes as she takes the needle.

She sniffles and lets out an exasperated 'Thank you'. When she uncaps the needle you realize how huge it really is. Your breathing becomes more rapid and your whole body starts to tremble. You sit with your legs dangling off the front of the bed and she rolls up your shirt. You take in a deep breath and hold it, tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

"I love you," she presses a kiss into your shoulder as she injects the needle.

The second the blue fluid starts coursing through you, you feel like you should have asked a few more questions. That train of thought is cut off by a scorching pain. It feels like a wildfire is soaring through your veins. You cry out and collapse forward, supporting yourself up onto your elbows. Your whole body jerks from the pain. Victoria kneels down beside you and reaches for your arm, you pull away and stand. You sway unsteadily and stare down at her. Tears flow from her eyes but her face appears quiet, she knew how much this would hurt you. Your mixed emotions guide you to the bed and you throw yourself under the covers. You want to be mad, you want to scream and wail and kick until you see red but pain has sedated your anger. You can do nothing but sob and call for Neuman.

Victoria hurriedly joins you in bed, she pulls you close against her and pets your head. She kisses your forehead and whispers words of comfort. You choke on your cries and bury your face into her neck. You feel like you're dying. You find solace in the fact that it will be in her arms; and anguish in the fact that she will have been the one to kill you. At some point, your body gives out from exhaustion and you lie still.

-

The survival rate in adults injected with Compound V is an unsettling twenty percent. Victoria considered this, of course. She told you everyone in the company needed to submit bloodwork, for “insurance purposes”. It was a shit lie but you blindly followed her words anyway. She sent you to a Vought-owned lab and ran more in-depth tests. Your blood already contained slight traces of V, not enough for powers, but enough to give this new dose something to cling onto. This allows for a far less fatal outcome. She destroyed all evidence of the bloodwork afterwards, there's no need for you to know your own parents doped you as a newborn too. The powers you will gain can't be predicted, but she is satisfied with the guarantee of superhuman durability.

-

You wake up alone. You’re drenched in sweat but the pounding in your skull has ceased. I don’t feel any different? You slowly sit up and look around the room.

“Vic?”

You’re met with silence. You feel a pang of sorrow in your heart but chase away any forming tears. Upon getting up, you notice a water bottle and a small note.

‘ I swear I will make this up to you, I’ll be back as soon as a I can. I love you.

(If you feel up to it — counting is expected to wrap around 11, there’s an open bar!) ‘

You chug the water and drop the bottle letting bounce on the floor. You’re pissed at Vic. How much could she possibly care about my safety when she’s fully willing to abandoned my unconscious body… in a locked… fancy… You groan, she didn’t exactly leave you to the wolves but you’re feeling are still hurt. You trudge towards the bathroom, needing to wash off this whole event.

Thankfully, the shower makes you feel like a person again. You wipe the steam from the mirror and examine yourself — nothing seems different? You shrug and pat yourself dry. You find the oversized t-shirt you wore as pajamas last night and throw it on. Victoria’s red lipstick rests on the counter, it’s as sleek and polished as she is. The thought of her makes you smile, you are so quick to forgive. You pick it up to examine it but the sound of voices outside the door makes you stop abruptly.

Cautiously, you crack the door and call out for Victoria. It slams open and you’re met with two CIA agents, they stare down at you. You try to back up, but the taller man grabs your wrist and throws you into the center of the room.

Your body crashes into the floor, as you rise you notice two more people in the room; they’re hiding behind the kitchen island, a black-haired male and female in suits they appear uncomfortable in. Your attentions reverts back to your current attackers. The man who grabbed you squats in front of you.

"Care to explain what you're doing in Ms. Neuman's room?" he asks as the other man encroaches.

You remain silent and try to see what the two behind the island are trying to accomplish. A hard smack from the squatted man draws your attention back to the front. You still don't respond. He huffs and motions to his partner, who begins to draw his gun. You scramble back towards the wall, you can hear your heart beating and feel the hair on the back of your neck rise. An animalistic nature seems to be taking hold of you, all of your senses are on edge and there is a primal hunger creeping its way out of you. The click of the gun sets you off. You launch yourself off the wall and throw the armed man to the ground.

-

From behind the counter, Frenchie and Kimiko are left with their mouths agape. The harmony of feral growls and screams causes them to peer from behind the counter. They see you hunched over one of the guards covered in blood, the guards torso is torn open, rank viscera is splattered across the room. You spit out a chunk of red flesh and your eyes target the other agent. Frenchie reaches for his in-ear walkie and calls for Hughie. Kimiko watches as the remaining agent unloads his firearm into your body. Unflinching, you continue your stalk towards him.

"Hughie! It seems like Neuman has turned your little friend into some kind of junkyard mutt- SHIT!" Frenchie and Kimiko duck behind the island as a severed arm comes flying towards them. Frenchie speaks in a hushed shout, "Your time to shine, Mon ami!

-

The remaining agent is left in pieces, several of which have ended up in completely different areas. The room is quiet, aside from your panting and the shuffling in the kitchen. You stare down at your hands; they're covered in blood and you notice your nails have grown much longer and sharper. Though the room has filled with the stench of iron, you can still pick up the scent of your two intruders. You attempt to move towards them, but the lack of an immediate threat to your life (and possibly the several bullets you took) causes your adrenaline to drop - you collapse onto the floor. The pain of being thrown, beat, and shot catches up to you. You whine and dig into your wounds, trying to claw out the searing bullets. The duo stand from behind the counter and the man shouts to you.

"I would not to that if I was you!" He raises his hands out and steps towards you. You stare daggers back at the man.

Before you can shout whatever obscenities were slowly developing in your clouded mind, the door flies open. Hughie Campbell pauses in the doorway and takes in the scene around him.

"Jesus Christ..." he mutters.

"I told you, Victoria has fucked her!" Frenchie ushers Kimiko out the door and quickly follows, "Deal with this how you want, we must get back to the task at hand."

Hughie makes his way towards you and freezes when you look up at him, you are sitting on the floor like a wounded dog, blind from fear. Your eyes are completely black, your teeth resemble that of a well-fed wolf, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood. Hughie cautiously kneels down next to you and places his hand on your shoulder. He calls your name and directs your attention to his face. Slowly, you recognize the man in front of you and steady your breathing. He watches your eyes return to normal, the black slowly pooling itself into your dilated pupil.

"Hughie..." your voice is a whisper, "I-".

You finally take in the devastation around you, which stretches floor to ceiling, window to wall. The reality of the situation hits you and you burst into tears. Hughie hesitates before placing his other hand on your opposite shoulder and sighing.

"I can't believe she dragged you into this. I… I'm sorry."

"Oh my god- Hughie! I'm going to fucking prison," you whimper, "Oh fuck-“

You push away from Hughie and try to steady your breath. He backs off and stands.

"I'm actually fairly confident that won't happen," he gazes down and his face flushes red.

He turns away and offers his hand out to you, "L-Lets get you out of here, and get some pants on."

You clutch his hand and rise up, pulling the t-shirt down over yourself. He opens the drawers of the hotel's dresser and stops once he finds one with something in it. He holds out a pair of boxers, several sizes too big and extremely gaudy. You make a face and he tosses them towards you and turns around.

"They're better than nothing, okay? Everything else is fucking drenched in CIA agent…" he reasons.

He grabs a sheet from the bed and wraps it around you before heading out the door. You make your way to a utility van parked behind the hotel. Hughie slides open the door and you're met with a bearded man pointing a gun at you.

"JESUS! Butcher put that away!" Hughie bends over and catches his breath.

"No way that one is getting in here," his pistol remains focused on you, "Last thing we need is Neuman storming in here and popping all our heads."

Hughie starts to protest and Butcher cocks back the hammer. You place a hand on Hughie's chest and feed him a forced smile.

"It's okay, Hughie," you assure as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you, for getting me out of there,” you feel the barrel of Butcher's gun pressed against your temple. Your breath hitches and you pull away. Hughie hops into the van and it screeches away.

You are left alone in the parking lot and limp to a nearby alleyway. You hop around shards of broken glass and find an abandoned milk crate, you'll catch your breath here and then figure out a game plan. You sit yourself down and hear small clinking noises near the ground of the milk crate. The bullets previously lodged in you are being spit out of your skin, the craters they once resided in have filled themselves and you notice you're in a lot less pain. A sigh of relief falls from your lips and you shed the sheet wrapped around your shoulders. You feel a small prick in your neck and move your hand towards the pain, a needle resides in the crook of your neck, before you can turn around you go limp.

In your last moments of alertness, you read the lettering on the van you're being pulled in to.

'VOUGHT INTERNATIONAL'

Fuck.

|

authors note: part two is basically wrote in my mind already i just need to type it out <3 thanks for reading, after this next chapter im going to write for Maeve for a little bit and then possibly release a blank slate smut fic.. who’s to say really

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[knockoffheart]

marketing manager for Victoria Neuman cont.

[ click here for part one ]

warnings: smut, reader has female genitalia & is referred to as a girl, oral & fingering (vic receiving), power imbalance — just incase (boss x employee), semi-public (almost caught but not really), Vic uses powers (reader is not aware), maybe a tiny smidge of angst?, NO BODILY HARM, 18+ also.. NOT proof read bc of an all nighter

->

The door to Victoria’s office is open, she’s stood with her back towards you and appears to be examining some scattered documents. You tap your knuckles against the door frame.

“You wanted to see me, Miss Neuman?”. The end of your sentence is punctuated by the click of the door’s lock.

Victoria peers over her shoulder and rolls her eyes at the formality. You wrap your arms around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder.

“Not happy to see me?” you ask warily. You push her hair behind her ear, wanting to get a better look at her face. You notice she’s smiling, internally you let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m always happy to see you.” she reassures, resting one of her hands against yours. “Just afraid I may have overbooked myself.” She flips through some of the papers on her desk.

“I think you deserve a break,” you run your hands up her dress and press a kiss against her neck, “I mean, you know what they say — about all work and no play…”

Victoria laughs and turns to face you as she speaks, “I don’t think you’ve actually done any work today?” She raises her eyebrows and smirks down at you.

You scoff, “I was just about to start.”

You press your lips against hers. You can feel her smile through the kiss. Small laughs fill the room as you work your way over to the loveseat across from her desk. Victoria straddles your lap and tilts your head upwards, grinning down at you.

“You are so fucking hot,” Victoria mutters as she pulls you into another kiss.

You push a hand up against the hem of her dress, riding it up her thighs. One of your hands rests on her waist while the other works its way between her thighs. An incessant ringing calls Victoria away from you, she rolls off you and digs her cellphone out of her pocket.

“Robert, Hi…” Victoria answers into the phone, she flashes you a look of ‘I’m sorry’.

Fucking Singer… You add this to your mental list of ‘things President-Elect Robert Singer has done that have pissed me off’. It feels like the list grows longer everyday. You glance at Victoria and notice her dress is still bunched over her thighs. Smirking, you work your way down in between her legs. She glares down at you, watch it. You playfully raise your hands up in a defense manner but you can’t hide your teasing grin. You try and slide down her underwear but she snaps her fingers at you. You groan and place your hands on her inner thighs, licking at her cunt through the fabric. She continues her conversation but you notice she’s not as quick with her responses.

The conversation ends and she throws her phone to the side. She grips a fistful of your hair and pulls you back from her, moving your head up closer to hers as she leans in. She lets out a loud, shaky sigh before she speaks.

“I’m going to go answer some bullshit emails,” she taps her finger against your lips, “Will you be a good fuckin’ girl for me and sit under that desk and help me?” She pleas through gritted teeth, forcing herself to keep composure.

She is far better at multitasking than you are, at least at the start. You are being much gentler than she was, of course. Victoria has always loved being rough with you, she’s practically addicted to making you squirm. You’d like to return the favor. You feel her thighs press against either side of your head and know she’s beginning to lose herself. You focus your attention on her clit and suck hard. She mutters curses under her breath and lets out a few breathy moans. You feel her tremble and quicken your pace, flattening your tongue against her cunt.

“Fuck!” Victoria cries out and slams her fist against the desk.

“You okay in there Vic?” you hear Hughie ask from outside the door, when she doesn’t reply you hear the door handle jiggle, “Vic?”

“I’m fine!” she shouts.

“Are you sure? I ca—“ Hughie groans outside the door, “What the fuck — again?!” You hear his footsteps trail off towards the bathroom.

You place your mouth back on Victoria and she sends a hand through your hair, guiding you along herself. You stare up at her and drag your tongue slowly up to her clit. Her glossy eyes meet yours and you finally send her over the edge. Her grip on your hair tightens as the other steadies herself on the desk. You smile against her and pull away, using your hand to fill the role your tongue was playing. Her legs jerk uncontrollably and the look on her face tells you she’s already close again. You rub quickly and messily against her clit, keeping steady eye contact the whole time. Victoria whines and hunches forward, you take inspiration from her early escapade and slide two of your fingers inside her cunt. You curl them and kiss along her thighs, you feel her tighten around you and she cries out releasing herself on your digits.

You fix her dress before you rise, smoothing out her hair as she catches her breath. She leans back in her chair and stares up at you, smiling softly.

“Wanna go home early, come over?” she asks, tracing her nails against your arm.

“I am a bad influence on you…” you tease. “Are you sure that’s alright?”

“I think if I have to spend one more second emailing another loaded douchebag I’ll kill someone.” Victoria quips.

“You head out first, I’ll leave a little after you,” you feel a tinge of shame in your stomach, “Wouldn’t want anyone to get suspicious…”

The secrecy of your relationship catches you off guard at times. Victoria’s smile fades.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice comes out just above a whisper. You wrap your arms around her and give her a smile.

“Don’t be,” you kiss her shoulder, “I would do anything to be with you.” Victoria’s smile reappears and she squeezes your arm.

You both compose yourselves, prepared to leave the building with all your garments on. You can’t wait for this goddamn election to be over.

|

authors note: “what about sameer and zoey?!” they do not exist here. be gone from my sight! she’s a child free lesbian i forge my own path. also, if this is mid that’s on me! ALSO— if ppl end up liking this i will be inclined to make a part 3 but rn i have no plans to.

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[knockoffheart]

marketing manager for Victoria Neuman

warnings: smut, reader has female genitalia & is referred to as a girl, oral & fingering (r receiving), power imbalance — just incase (boss x employee), semi-public (almost caught but not really), Vic uses powers (reader is not aware), panty raid (aka Vic keeps your underwear), NO BODILY HARM, 18+ also.. i only kind of proof read this, schwoopsie.

->

You’ve been working for Victoria since the start of the campaign. She’s always been good with the public, her work with the FBSA ensured that — but a little more media outreach never hurt anyone. Your affair with the vice-president elect started only a few weeks ago. A few too many late nights with a few too many glasses of wine spurred on this new ‘relationship’. You aren’t sure what to call it, you’d like to think it’s more than sex, this type of relationship doesn’t easily lend itself to something more.

You’re first to arrive to the building, you click on the lights and make your way to your office. You open your laptop and look through your calendar, Victoria has claimed a considerable chunk of your morning for a meeting. You raise an eyebrow at this newly formed block in your schedule, your meetings normally take thirty minutes. You click through emails trying to see if you missed something from earlier. Your scouring leads you nowhere. You tap your nails against the desk impatiently. A knock at the door makes your head shoot up.

Victoria is leaned against the door frame, smiling. You tuck your hair behind your ear and smile back at her.

“I know I’m early, that okay?” Neuman asks, shutting the door behind her.

“Of course, Vic!”

She’s never been this early to a meeting before. You stare longingly at her perfectly painted lips, before snapping back up to her eyes. You catch a mischievous look on her face and unintentionally tilt your head.

Victoria has always been able to read you like an open book. It’s one of the many things she loves about you. She spends all day dealing with snobs who lie right through their teeth, coming back to you is like a breath of fresh air. She doesn’t think you could lie to her if you tried.

“You’ll have to forgive me for mixing business and pleasure,” Victoria saunters next to you and rests her hand against your cheek and you melt in her palm. She hums, “I just can’t get enough of you.”

She lends you a few seconds of sweetness before spinning your chair towards her. You place your hands on her waist and stare up at her. Neuman laughs at your blown out pupils and pets your hair. She loves the effect she has on you.

“You’d do anything for me, huh?” she teases. You nod and smile up at her. Victoria smirks and pushes you back into your desk chair. “Then, let me do this for you.”

She crouches down in front of you and pushes up your skirt, you gasp and reflexively grab her hands.

“V-Vic! Somebody’s gonna’ see…” you huff shakily and try to steady yourself in your chair. She rolls her eyes and positions herself under your desk, you don’t object as she slides your underwear off.

“Nobody will notice,” she kisses your thigh, “Besides, I’ve basically blocked out your whole day.”

She presses her mouth between your thighs. Her big brown eyes stare up at you as she tongues circles against your clit. You squeeze your eyes shut and run your fingers through her hair. She pulls her mouth away with a soft ‘pop’ and clicks her tongue.

“I didn’t say you could stop working did I?” she chides.

“Vi…” You raise your brows and stare down at her.

The look she gives you lets you know she’s serious. You let out a breathy sigh and remove your hands from her hair, placing them at your computer. Instantly, she’s back to toying with you.

She teases you at a fervent pace. You’re only able to open a tab before you drop your head down against your desk. Your thighs tremble together and you feel her force them apart. She spreads you open and laps up and down your cunt. You throw your head back and stare down at her, she leans away and the sight of her makes you whimper. What remains of her lipstick is smeared, her eyes are glossy and hungry, and there is a trail of wetness from her chin to your cunt.

Victoria lets out a breathy noise of satisfaction when she sees your face. She rubs messily at your clit. You choke back an exasperated cry and press your hand against your mouth. You whimper out a few pleas for gentleness as you squirm under her touch. She fakes a pout that instantly widens into a grin as she goes back to tonguing your core. You lean forward and try to focus on work, scared she might stop. You push back your hair and glare at your screen. Knock, Knock, Knock. A soft tapping at your door snaps you into reality, you try to wriggle out of Victoria’s grasp but she holds you down.

Your coworker, Hughie Campbell, enters.

“Hey! Got you a tea,” he places a to-go cup next to your computer, “Green, right?”.

“H-Hey! Yeah..” You shakily reach for the tea and take a swig.

“You seen Neuman around?” He stares back into the office, and holds up a small paper baggie, “Got her a breakfast sandwich thing—“

“Nope!” you blurt out, resting your head in your hand. It takes all your strength to maintain composure and force a smile.

“Weird. She’s normally like the first one her-“

“Hah- HA. Hahaha.” You play your moan off as a laugh and grit your teeth. “So unlike her! Crazy… Traffic probably..”

Your composure starts to fall apart, Victoria’s pace doesn’t slow. She sucks hard at your clit and starts to curl a finger inside of you.

Before Hughie speaks his next sentence, a small bit of blood dribbles out of his nose.

“Ah shit, great.” He grabs a napkin from the table and presses it to his nose, “If you see Neuman, give her the sandwich for me? Thanks!” He hurries out and shuts the door.

Victoria pumps in another finger and moans into your clit. She sucks and slides her tongue sloppily against you. Neuman’s neat, calculated demeanor disappears when she’s with you like this — she craves you, carnally.

“V-Vicky…” you cry and grip the arm rests on your chair. She pulls away with a pant and stares up at you.

“Go on, baby.” She bites her lip, “You’ve been such a good girl for me.”

She places her mouth back on your clit and quickens her pace. With that, you start to unravel. Your brows furrow and you feel your whole body trembling as you let go. You swear you black out and when you come to Victoria is placing kisses along your thighs. She pulls your skirt back down and slinks out from under your desk.

“Think I’ll keep these for now,” she dangles your panties in front of your face before tucking them in her pocket. Your face turns beet red, but you don’t protest.

She hands you your tea and sits on top of your desk, crossing her legs. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and takes a bite of the breakfast sandwich.

“This is the second best tasting thing I’ve had all morning.” She laughs and glances at your screen. All you managed to do was type ‘The’. She lets out an even bigger laugh and you smack her leg. “You’ve got to learn how to multitask.”

You sip your tea and roll your eyes, “Let’s see how great you are at it…” You tease.

“Oh, I’d love to.” She stands and kisses the top of your head before heading out, reapplying her lipstick in the hall’s mirror. She pokes her head back in to your room, “Check your schedule.”

You click open your calendar and see a new meeting.

Neuman’s Office, 1 on 1 Marketing Meeting @ 11am

| NEXT

authors note: woa!! thank you for reading & all the support!! — part 2 in the works!

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i moved!! find me here @spellsyzygy !!

(this wasn’t a primary account and i need it to beee!!!!!)

“but — who do you write for!?”

i’m glad you asked, random citizen! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

my writing will include dark/triggering topics. i will do my best to tag them or atleast give fair warning that something may be rather heavy. all of my work is intended for 18+ audiences only. please do not copy/repost my work on other sites. i use ocs in many, if not all, of my writing. please feel free to see yourself in them, but do not use them in your own works as they are my creations.

also, goes without saying but, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

knockoffheart’s masterlist extravaganza !!

[ THE BOYS ]

-> Queen Maeve, Victoria Neuman, MORE TO COME…

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I could take them both (not in a fight)