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[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.

|

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

[tip jar]

[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.

[tip jar]

[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!

[tip jar]

[knockoffheart]

newest member of the seven (6/6)

summary: it’s time to unveil your grand plan, and put some clothes on!

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains extremely mild smut. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

You manage to get an hour or two of sleep before you awake to Maeve softly stroking your hair.

“Did you get any sleep?” you ask. You peer up at her through your lashes and notice she’s staring straight ahead — almost like she’s in a trance. You nuzzle against her and reach for her free hand.

“I did” she turns her head towards you and smiles, “Just woke up a few minutes ago.”

In reality she had only been able to sleep for thirty minutes, the rest of her time was spent watching you, waiting for something horrible to happen. You stretch and flash a big smile at her, it makes her chuckle.

“What are you smiling about?” Maeve questions.

“Just happy this isn’t a dream.” You grin and pull her into a kiss. You work your way on top of her, straddling her lap. She grips onto your hips as you cup her face. You run your fingers through her hair and pull her head back slightly. She moans into your mouth and digs her nails into your waist. You pepper her neck with kisses, sucking your way down to her collarbone. She stifles a moan and pulls you off.

“Easy, tiger” she teases, “The meeting is in a few hours, it’s time for you to start enacting your plan.” You slink off her and hop off the bed. She wraps a blanket around herself and heads towards the door.

“Kicking me out already?” you ask, only half kidding. She opens the door and grabs a grocery bag left in front. She reveals the contents — your suits!

“Starlight brought them by.” Maeve pulls out your tattered suit and examines the giant tear that runs clear through the center. She traces her fingers against the fabric stained with your dried blood. She bites down on her cheek and shuts the door.

“Ah… well, I’ve got another!” You flex your hands nervously. You can tell she’s thinking about the fight. “Besides, I would have teleported right out of it anyways.”

Maeve doesn’t meet your eyes. Her gaze rests on the suit then on your scar. The scar that hasn’t fully gone away, you’re starting to think it never will. It’s far less gnarly than it was before, but it is undeniably present. You slide your hand across your stomach, your other hand reaches to the middle of your back. You notice a massive scar has also formed there. High pitched ringing fills your ears as you recall the moment you were impaled and god, was it brutal. There was no warm light or life flashing before your eyes, it was excruciating pain and nothingness — yet here you stand. Stop it. You’re fine. You’re. Fine. You look up and face Maeve’s serious gaze. The ringing stops.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at the meeting, okay? I just need to check on something.” She nods and you fight the intense feelings back, you don’t want to worry Maeve. You’re fine. You tell yourself. I’m fine. You close your eyes and imagine the fire escape. When you reopen them, you’re still in Maeve’s room. You try again, same result. “…” You stare down at your hands, “The fuck!?”.

“Hughie and Butcher use Temp-V…. Temp-V, temp powers?” she guesses.

“Wha…?” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence, not holding another’s power feels strange. You feel exposed— and not just because you’re nude. You shake your head quickly, “I-I gotta go get-“.

“Copy mine.” Maeve offers her hand to you, “They won’t get you there as fast, but at least you’ll get to keep your clothes on.”

You step towards her outstretched hand. You walk past it and instead wrap her in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” you mutter into her shoulder. You copy her powers and pull away, “I’ll be back soon, promise.” You look down at yourself and Maeve laughs.

“Let me get you something to wear, I can’t promise it’ll be nice” she heads to her dresser and pulls out a few things for you. “Be safe.”

-

You leap barefoot rooftop to rooftop in a pair of Maeve’s sweatpants and an “I ‪‪❤︎‬ NY” shirt. You see the first hints of sunrise peaking over the horizon. You reach the top of the building with the fire escape and slither down to last night’s hiding spot. The paper bag remains in the exact position you left it in, you do a silent celebration that includes several small fist pumps. Opening it, you find some of the missing Temp-V vials. Oh shit! You roll up the paper bag and start your journey back to Vought Tower.

You get to a good vantage point and spot your room’s balcony. Gripping the paper bag tightly, you make your leap of faith. You undershoot it slightly, your stomach connects with the sleek railing of the balcony and you hull yourself over, collapsing on the cool concrete.

“Ugh….” you groan and roll over towards your door. You open the paper bag and the vials are still intact, that revelation gives you enough excitement to hop up and into the shower. You’d prefer to not show up to the meeting smelling like sex. Specifically, you don’t want to smell like sex with Maeve — Homelander would certainly kill you if he detects that.

-

While putting on your suit, you hear a knock at your door. When you look through the peephole, no one is there. You cautiously open the door and are met with a medium-sized box at your feet, you drag it inside and take a peek. You reel back from the smell, the sight isn’t pleasant either. Excalibur’s decapitated head rests inside, his face holds a slack-jawed expression. There’s a sticky note attached to his forehead that reads—

All that would fit in the box, You’re welcome.

-B

Butcher. You peel the sticky off and crumple it. You tuck the vials of V into your suit and pick up the box. Here we go.

-

You’re first to arrive to the meeting, you sit in the same spot as last time and tuck the box by your feet. The other members file in, Maeve sits away from you. A pit opens in your stomach, but you shake it off — she’s being cautious. Starlight enters and avoids your gaze completely, you wonder if she even realized it was you she was attacking. Either way, she certainly knows now. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Homelander claps his hands, he wastes no time.

“Replicate, any update on the mission I sent you on?” He’s smiling, but his eyes are unhopeful.

You pull the vials out of your suit and set them on the table. Homelander is noticeably taken aback, he calms his features and steps towards you.

“And the mole?” He raises a brow.

You kick the box towards his feet, he crouches and lifts the lid. His eyebrows raise and he stands upright. He’s speechless.

“Excalibur visits here occasionally, mostly for meetings about his now-cancelled series. The first time he was here was for the new member call-backs. Clearly, upset he didn’t make it in, he stole what he thought was Compound V — an attempt to make himself stronger. He can make his blades narrow enough to cut the cameras wires— explains the lack of footage.” You cross your legs and lean back, “I went to the meeting point. He must have realized the V was temporary and tried to sell it off to some punks. I stepped in and… I’m sure you can understand the rest.”

You stare across the table at the rest of the members; The Deep is shuffling uncomfortably, A- Train shakes his head, and Startlight’s mouth is hanging open. You grab the lid from Homelander’s hands and place it back on top of the box.

“Case closed?” you question, leaning over the table.

“Yes, uh.. um. Meeting dismissed.” he waves everyone off and rubs his chin.

-

You head to the women’s restroom after the meeting, splashing some water on your hot face. The adrenaline in your system forces a huge smirk on your face that you can’t hide when Maeve and Starlight walk in.

“That was fucking incredible.” Starlight praises, she gives you a tight squeeze, “I’m sorry, for yesterday, with Hughie I can be a real attack now, ask questions later kinda gal..” You hug her back, swearing that ‘it’s water under the bridge’.

After Starlight releases you, you approach Maeve timidly. Her arms are crossed and she wears a smirk of approval.

“Told ya’ — Trust the plan” you grin up at her. She rolls her eyes and brushes your hair off your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah…” she admits it was a great plan and wraps her arms around your waist. You blush, hard. You giggle and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into a kiss. Immediately, you hear Starlight gasp. You and Maeve whip your heads around to her and rip apart from each other.

“I guess we all know each other secrets now?” you jest. Returning to Maeve’s touch, gently holding onto her hand. All of you share a smile, it is hopeful yet solemn. The powers that be don’t allow people in your position to be happy— to have happily ever after, but in this moment, it doesn’t feel so unfeasible.

end.

>back

authors note: thanks for reading and all the support!

[knockoffheart]

THE BOYS MASTERLIST

key: fluff — angst — smut — dark

Queen Maeve

-> Newest Member of the Seven 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Victoria Nueman

-> Working for Neuman 1 , 2

-> Guard Dog 1, 2, 3

Starlight

-> WIP…

Homelander

-> WIP…

[knockoffheart]

“but sab — who do you write for!?”

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

hi! i go by sab/sable — i use any pronouns! i write for fun! i may not know what im doing but i enjoy doing it.

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…

[knockoffheart]

newest member of the seven (5/6)

summary: me, yelling from across the room: JUST FUCK ALREADY!!

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains SMUT. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

Maeve’s room is much nicer than yours, even before you completely destroyed it in an evening of rage. Somehow she makes the cold, sleek tower feel like an actual home. She leads you to the bathroom and grabs some towels. The shower is massive. She turns the handle then tests the water with her hand, seemingly content with the temperature she turns back to you.

You share another sweet kiss before she starts to exit the bathroom, “I’ll be right back, I need to contact Starlight before she does something drastic.” She smiles, “Anything you need me to tell her?”.

“Keep the body.” You say as you pull your t-shirt off over your head.

“Okay…?” she had a puzzled look on her face. Before you fully immerse yourself in the shower, you look back to her.

“Trust the plan, baby!” You snap finger guns at her, then let the warm water soothe your aching body. You cringe to yourself, wondering if the fight has left you with brain damage.

She laughs and shakes her head, she gives you an ‘okay’ and steps out of the bathroom. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Yeesh.

-

By the time Maeve comes back you’re mostly clean, just rinsing the conditioner out of your hair. You let out a soft hum as you feel her arms wrap around your waist. You lean back into her, smiling.

“Is she pissed?” you ask.

“When isn’t she?” she responds, working her hands up towards your breasts, “But, I really don’t care about that right now.”

You moan softly, trembling from her touch. She pushes her leg in between yours, it’s slick from the water but you can still feel the muscle pressed against your cunt.

“Holy shit-” you gasp. She squeezes one of your breasts and pinches the nipple of the other. You let out a whine and tilt your head, she attacks the exposed neck with several kisses before biting softly. “M-Maeve..” your hands cling to hers.

“Your lil’ suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but this is better than anything i’ve ever dreamed up..” she moans into your ear as she reaches down to your hips, slightly grinding you against her leg.

You let out a staggered breath at the sensation, clutching on to her forearms. Wait. You smirk and turn around to face her.

“You’ve dreamed about this before, huh?” you chide. “How long?” You tilt your head and press up against her front. She doesn’t know how to respond, her flustered face is cute. “I know how long I have, Maeve, but what about you?”. You push your soapy breasts against hers and bat your eyelashes.

“You are evil.” she jokes.

You laugh deeply and lean your head back, she notices the bruise that’s formed on your neck. The red outline of her hand can still be seen. When you look back up at her you notice her frown.

“Maeve, what’s wrong? I was just teasing.” You push the wet stands of hair out of her face. She doesn’t reply, just traces her fingers down the front of your neck. You hold her hand, “Maeve, it’s okay. I’m okay, I swear.”

She holds your gaze for a while, the soft patter of the shower heads fill the air. Her sheepish behavior contrasts her strong, wolf-like form. You walk your fingers up her arm and grin.

“Why don’t you clean up? I’m sure you could think of some way to make it up to me.” you keep your hand on her shoulder. She smirks down at you.

-

You finish drying off, and turn to hang up your towel. Maeve grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bed, you squeal as she pushes you down onto it. You sit up and pull her into another kiss. Your mouth opens slightly and her tongue enters eagerly. Oxygen is an afterthought. She bites your bottom lip and brings her hand down to your clit. She pulls away and stares at you and she starts rubbing small circles.

“Fuck-“ you grip onto the sheets. “Oh my fucking god…” you mewl.

“You’re so sensitive, baby.” she teases in between kisses. Her mouth works its way down your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, stopping right before she reaches the most needy area. She pushes your legs to either side, keeping them spread apart easily. You steady yourself up on your elbows and stare down at her with your mouth agape. Her smirk is still visible as she kisses your inner thigh, holding eye contact with you as she presses her mouth over your clit. You furrow your brows and bite down on your lip as she sucks and swirls her tongue around you. You can’t believe this is really happening, every time you think you’re dreaming she speeds up her pace and you snap back to reality.

She moves her hands from your thighs. One goes between your legs, slowly pumping two of her strong fingers inside of you. The other presses down firmly right below your tummy. You throw your head back and let out a combination of curses and moans. Letting yourself fall back into the mattress, you place your arms over your face and head, you can feel the heat from your cheeks radiating onto them.

“Maeve— I’m gonna-“ you whimper as your thighs gently press together around her head. You feel her smile as she keeps lapping you up. She quickens the pace of her fingers and moves her thumb to your clit, pulling her mouth away. She stands over you, panting, her mouth and chin glisten from her time between your legs.

She pulls her thumb away and pushes your arms off your face. She grabs you by your jaw and makes you look at her.

“C’mon, lemme see your face, pretty girl” she whimpers. Her thumb returns, quickening the pace on your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

With that, you unravel. Maeve bites her lip and watches you come apart, she whispers a handful of praises before smashing her lips against yours. You send your fingers through her hair, tugging up so you can kiss at her neck. You trail up and nibble her ear, “My turn.” you whisper. You feel her stagger above you. You guide her up to the top of the bed, pressing her back against her pillows. You push her legs apart and move down to her chest, kissing and sucking on her breasts. You feel so content making her feel good, you’re eager to please.

Finally, you work your way down between her legs. You’re trembling, she’s clearly more experienced than you, but you’re desperate to make her feel good. You try to replicate what she did to you, though you’re much sloppier. Her moans encourage you to focus on her clit, as you do, her hands shoot to your hair. She grabs on to your hair, pulling softly and guiding you against her.

“Good girl,” she praises, “Good fucking girl…”

You feel her back arch up, and you stare up at her. Your pupils are blown out as you take her in, she watches your tongue move up and down. Her eyes meet yours, you’re so desperate to please her, she’s all that’s on your mind, you don’t care about anything except making her feel good. Her moans become breathy and she pulls your hair tightly, she curses and you feel her come apart on your tongue. You keep at it, tasting her and feeling her body twitch. You don’t stop up she lifts your head up.

“G-good?” you ask, eyelids heavy.

“Fucking perfect.” she growls, pulling you up towards her.

-

You lay under her sheets together, she holds you firmly against her. Your adrenaline has finally worn off and you start to feel how fucking sore you are. Maeve plays with your hair and you start to relax.

She loves how soft you are. How much you want to do good. Be good. Her goal has always been to keep you safe, when you’re lying with her like this, she finally feels like she can. For a moment, she forgets everything else going on outside. Homelander, The Boys, and all the other bullshit she has to put up with on a daily basis.

Your thoughts, however, are racing with all the ways Homelander is going to mangle you. You shoot up.

“Homelander is so going to kill me this time!” you blurt. You stare at her, wide-eyed.

She sits up, “No he won’t. He won’t find out.”

“Uh, yeah he will! He’s got heightened senses and shit. I’m fucked…” you murmur and look back at her. She’s beautiful, even with her stern expression. “At least I die a happy woman.”

She grabs your shoulders, “He won’t find out.” She pulls you back down to her, “You have your plans and I have mine.” You’re swayed instantly, cuddling right back up next to her.

“Does he… visit your room often?” you ask, tracing your finger along her collarbone.

“No, surprisingly that’s one of the boundaries he actually respects. He always calls me to him.” she sighs. “Stay the night, please. I need you here, and your room is a shit hole.”

“How dare…” you quip, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

You spend the rest of the night detailing the plans for tomorrow’s meeting. You fall asleep before her, your head lies on her chest and she’s gone back to playing with your hair. She stares up at the ceiling and weeps quietly. This is the happiest she’s felt in a long while, but she knows this can’t last. She is tied to Homelander. She has to be, for her safety. For yours. She takes in a breath and kisses your head before drifting off to sleep.

>back

>next

[knockoffheart]

newest member of the seven (4/6)

summary: you kick ass and get your ass kicked. copying hughie’s temp v powers = oops we’re naked!

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains mild smut. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

You work you way down to the groups and stare up at them, almost in awe of your work. Excalibur is stabbing at the field, but making no progress. The group is kicking, shooting, and stabbing the field trying to get out.

“Calm down! I just wa-“ You feel a nude body grab you and slam you to the ground, bashing your head. You groan, looking up you see you’ve released both force fields, they all began to stand, ready to attack. “Shit…”, you put your arms over your head and form a small dome around yourself. There is a relentless assault on it from outside. You wipe blood from your head and take in a deep breath. Focus. You slowly begin to stand, increasing the force field’s size as you do. It pushes back the onslaught, allowing you to scan your surroundings. You see your previous attacker, the tall guy from before. He’s putting his shirt on over his head and hurriedly trying to button his pants. So he can teleport himself, but not his clothes..? You shake away the curiosity and prepare to force everyone off so you can capture them again. With a quick motion upwards you expand the force field rapidly, throwing everyone into the walls. You push your arms out, pinning everyone else to the wall as you make your way towards the teleporter.

Before you can reach them a strong burst of light slams into your chest, sending you flying back into a dumpster. You land on your side and look up. Starlight lands and hurries to the teleporter. Is she… comforting him? You blink, hard. THAT FUCKING BITCH. As you begin go rise, Maeve appears, looking around frantically.

“What happened here?” She asks Butcher.

“Oh fuck no, is this a fuckin’ sting operation? You’re not getting me fucking arrested!” Excalibur begins to form his arms into two giant blades.

Maeve, Starlight, and a short, black-haired girl all take a fighting stance. He unleashes a flurry of attacks, Maeve blocks every hit and you notice Starlight starting to glow. You also notice that you are fucking sore. Still, you make your way towards the group, preparing your force fields into small circular disks. Just as you’re about to throw your first disc — you’re slammed to the ground. The black-haired girl grabs a fist full of your hair and raises you up. You push a hand against her face and copy her power. With the element of surprise on your side, you manage to launch her towards her group.

“KIMIKO!” you hear the frenchman cry out. He begins firing his gun at you, the bullets hitting you barely sting. You start your way towards him before you’re pinned to a wall, you go to shove your attacker off you — it’s Maeve.

Your eyes widen, “Maeve…” you say in disbelief. Her metal bracer pressed firm against your neck, slowly cutting off air. “Maeve, it’s me!” You grab onto her arm, you know you could force her off, but your body feels like jelly. She stares through you, you reach for her hand and squeeze. Suddenly she release her grip and you collapse on the ground. You stare up at her, unintentionally recreating the moment you had the other night. You notice a blade start to come down above her, you shove her out of the way. The blade pierces through your midsection, pinning you to the wall. Maeve staggers, staring down at your limp body. Starlight blasts Excalibur back and you awake. You snap his bladed arm off from his body and throw it to the ground. He screams in agony, pulling back what’s left of his arm. You use the wall to help you up, still clutching your torso — which thankfully has started to heal itself. You try to move towards Excalibur but stumble to the ground, writhing on your hands and knees you attempt to stand again. Maeve moves toward you.

“Oi’ Maeve! Leave the bird to die, we’ve got bigger problems.” Butcher chides, his eyes glowing red. He laser beams Excalibur’s other arm off, leaving him with two bleeding stumps where the gigantic blades used to be. The teleporter, who you’ve now discerned is ‘Hughie’, runs past you towards Starlight and Excalibur. You grab his arm as he does, fully pulling yourself up and copying his powers all in one move. I am getting the fuck out of here.

You cough up a lot of blood, but the gaping wound in your center was closed. Thank you rapid healing. You steady yourself and focus on your room, trying to teleport back. You glare at Maeve, wary of her next action. She stands there, eyes wide as she stares back, you notice her hands are shaking.

“MAEVE! LOOK OUT!” Starlight yells. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Excalibur has formed blades out of his tongue, and all 10 toes. Gross. They are flying towards Maeve, you close your eyes and lunge towards her. Thinking you’re attacking, she lunges back. When you open your eyes, you’re lying in your bed. You want to let out a sigh of relief but can’t. Maeve is on top of you, knees on either side of your stomach, her hand is wrapped around your throat.

She releases you instantly, you gasp for air, still clinging onto her arm. It has taken you this long to realize you are both fully naked. Your face is on fire, you can feel how red you are. You let out a small whimper. Holy shit.

In the warm bedroom light, you finally see how bruised and beaten you both are. Your teleportation saved you both from the brunt of Excalibur’s attack, but you still suffered wounds. She has a slash on her cheek, which dripped onto your bare collarbone. You’re too focused on her to feel any pain from your numerous wounds. Your vision darts down, she’s straddling your torso, strong legs on either side, and her — your eyes dart up to her chest, then back to her face. She finally notices the lack of clothing, or atleast finally decides to acknowledge it.

“Fuck..” She breathes, staring down at your breasts, her vision lingers there for a while before darting back up to you.

Fuck it.

You lift yourself up and pull her into a desperate kiss. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a breathy whimper as she kisses you back. Her lips are soft, softer than you expected. She kisses you hungerly, grabbing your face, pulling you closer to her until you’re both on your knees in front of each other. Every moan you hear from her makes you melt, she works her hands down your body and reaches the newly made scar across your stomach. She pulls away from the kiss and presses her forehead against yours.

“You’re so stupid…” she keeps her hand on your scar and moves the other hand up to the back of your head, gently caressing it.

You roll your eyes, “Well, my stupid ass saved yours. Twice.” You press your lips back against hers.

Eventually, you both end up laying against each other, legs entangled. You stroke her cheek and she traces circles on your thigh.

“I thought you died.” Maeve pulls you closer to her, your face rests near her neck. She brings her hand back to the scar, dried blood covers your stomach down. “You looked dead.” You hear the shakiness in her voice.

You nuzzle into her, “Nah, I’ll never die.” You rest your hand on her cheek, “Sorry I wasn’t faster.” She lets out a small laugh, more-so blows air out of her nose.

“What’re you gonna do?” she asks warily, “Now that you know.” You reach down and grab her hand, pulling it to your lips.

“I’m going to trust you.” You kiss her hand, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I’ll make sure Homelander is none the wiser.” You sigh, “Call Starlight, I’ll grab you some clothes.” As you stand she grabs your wrist and stares up at you.

“Thank you.” she says and gives you a soft smile.

You dig through your closet for some oversized t-shirts. Maeve comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, her breasts are pressed against your back. Your face blasts red again, Maeve notices this in the closet mirror, she presses a few kisses against your neck, “Don’t you think you should shower first? No offense, but you’re filthy.” she suggests, picking a piece of gravel out of your hair.

You bite your bottom lip to fight your embarrassment, “I uh.. kind of broke that thing.” You turn and look up at her, she lets out a soft chuckle.

“God, you’re hopeless — good thing you’re pretty.” She jokes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ears, “We can use mine, cmon.”

You squeal internally, handing her a shirt as you pull your own over your head. You sneak out into the hall and head to her floor.

>back

>next

[knockoffheart]

newest member of the seven (3/6)

summary: put on your detective hat, you’ve got a mole to find! i’m sure this will be easy peasy!

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains no smut. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

All the men leave the meeting room, leaving only you, Starlight, and Maeve. There is an uncomfortable silence in the room as you fidget with the flash drive in your hands.

“Replicate, we need to talk. Right now.” Starlight whispers, approaching you.

“She already knows. She just doesn’t seem to care.” Maeve grabs your chair and spins you to face her. “What did I say that made you think this was a good idea?”.

“I…” you trail off, not having a good reason for your behavior. You straighten yourself up, “I can’t run from my problems, not anymore. I want to be a hero, Maeve. Like you, like Starlight and Hom-“.

“Homelander is not a hero!” Starlight cries, “None of them are!”. She leans forward on the table, “You can’t be this naive, Replicate!”

“I’m not.” you say through gritted teeth. You stand and go to move, but Maeve grabs hold of you. You could break free, you’re just as strong as her right now, but you don’t. You don’t know if it’s your brain or the butterflies in your tummy keeping you still.

“Replicate, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Just give us the flash drive, we will handle it.” Maeve orders. She sees the reluctance in your eyes. Fuck. C’mon… She reaches down to your hands and holds them up by her face like the night before, “Now.”.

You see right through her tactics and yank your hands away, “If you don’t want me in the Seven, that’s your problem.” You stand and push your finger into Maeve’s chest, “You-“. Don’t get to use my feelings against me. You hold your words in and take a deep breath. You look towards Starlight, she holds the same expression as Maeve, if a little softer. “You’re supposed to be my friend.” You kick your chair and it flys out of the way as you head towards the door, “You said he was going to kill me, but it seems like I’m the only one here he actually believes in. I’m going to find this fucking mole and take my place in the Seven whether you like it or not.”

-

Maeve and Starlight sit in silence, staring at the doors in front of them. Starlight turns towards the window,

��You think she’ll find out?” she questions.

“She’s smart. I don’t know.” Maeve replies, no emotion is present in her expression or tone.

-

You seat yourself at one of the labs desks and open up the laptop that was given to you. You insert the flash drive, after several attempts you finally manage to stick it in. A flurry of files appear before you before three folders load on the screen. ‘Available Supes’, ‘Cam Footage’, and ‘Intel’. You click on ‘Available Supes’, might as well see what advantages you can have. You’re met with headshots and resumes, you recognize several who tried out for the Seven with you. You cringe at the thought of one of them being called in, being so hopeful only to find out they’re only needed for your benefit. You’re reminded of a conversation you overheard during recruitments.

*

‘I heard she mutilates the supes she fights, cuts off a huge piece of them so she can store it and use their powers later.’

‘Ew okay… explains the knife though. Don’t let her near you, who knows what she’ll do. I mean she’s pretty but that can’t hide her freak forever.’

*

Of course it was all true, mostly, but it still hurt. You’ve only fought four supes in your life, and you only managed to ‘save’ a part of two of them. You aren’t proud of it, but if they didn’t want to get hurt they shouldn’t have fought you. You tell yourself it’s not wrong, it’s smart, having good powers on hand is crucial. The ‘specimens’ are kept in petri dishes in your freezer, tucked behind the TV dinners, they’re your dirty little secret.

You groan and click over to the older folders. At first glance, the cam footage is no help at all. One by one the cameras leading to the lab go out, no way to see who’s doing it. The ‘Intel’ folder is more helpful, a potential meeting between some ragtag gang and a washed out supe — you jot down the location. You click back to the cam footage and began to rewatch. Nothing. Nothing. Wait. You rewind the footage on the last camera, just before it goes out there is a slight glow of light. No fucking way. Your breathing quickens, clicking through cameras, until you find Starlight three minutes before the cameras go out. She gets into an elevator, you click to the lab’s floor, the elevator light indicates the doors are about to open and the camera goes dark. No. No. No. No. You painstakingly click through every other floor, twice, praying that Starlight comes out on one but she never does. You take a deep breath and close the laptop, you head to your room.

-

It’s still a disaster zone in there but you don’t care. You open the laptop on your bed and eject the flash drive, your hands shaking as you hold it. You tuck it under your pillow and head to the freezer, digging out the petri dish that holds the still living skin of a supe. You think his forcefield powers will work for your newfound plan. You’ve convinced yourself this anti-hero ‘team’ is forcing Starlight to do this and you’re going to bring them to justice. Touching the skin, you feel a chill through your body, the loss of Maeve’s powers drains you. Suck it up. The meeting should be tonight, if your sleuthing is right, you have to do this.

-

You are able to create small fields, using them to traverse above the city in record time. You’ve had time to work with this power, it’s always been a favorite.

Maeve watches you leave from her bedroom, she’s been waiting for you to go since you left the meeting room. Starlight sits on the couch nearby, Maeve nods to her and they head towards your room.

-

They reach your floor and are met with the devastation that is your room.

“Oh my god.” Starlight gasps as she looks up at the fridge door lodged into the wall. The corner of Maeve’s mouth raises slightly, thinking of the last night. It falls at the sight of the destroyed wall, empty beer cans, and general mess of the room. They make their way to the laptop you left on your bed, upon opening it they’re met with the cam footage of the lab. “It didn’t catch anything, I told you.”.

Maeve unwraps a crumbled piece of paper next to the computer.

‘ Starlight enters elevator 7:04pm … Not spotted again until 7:26pm - Main Floor … Avg. elevator timing … ‘Butcher’ … ‘

“It might not have, but she did.” Maeve hands Starlight the note and starts combing through your bed, she flips over your pillow and finds the flash drive. She crushes it between her fingers and let the pieces crumple to the ground. “We’ve got to go, now. Call Hughie, let him know she’s coming.”

-

You land on a fire escape in the alleyway the meeting is supposed to take place in. You spot a group of five enter and spread out, waiting. You shakily pull out your phone and snap a few photos, you notice a hulking man in a trenchcoat at the front. Butcher, you guess. After a few minutes, another individual appeared, clad in a supe costume. Oh shit. You recognize it from your previous file scrolling. Excalibur, ability to transform parts of his body into pointed blades — range, size, strength are immeasurable. You are grateful for your force fields at this moment. The meeting begins, it seems amicable at first, a phone goes off and the tallest male of the group excuses himself awkwardly.

Butcher holds out a paper bag, Excalibur reaches to grab it. You form a field around the bag and fling it upwards, working it towards your position on the fire escape. Focus. The group starts to disperse. As the paper bag lands next to you, you trap the groups in two separate force fields. Gotcha.

> back

> next

[knockoffheart]

newest member of the seven (2/6)

summary: a one on one with maeve, gaining homelander’s approval, you’re killing it!

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains no smut. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

“Sorry for what? That I’m possibly spending my last night alive crying on the kitchen floor?” You sigh, leaning into her palm.

“Maybe sorry that my super strength ruined your fridge and that pretty painting you have hanging up?” Maeve gave a weary smile.

You let out a laugh, “Now I’ll have to drink warm beer and stare at vandalism when I try to go to sleep.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment, it looks like she wants to say something, but she never spoke. You decided to instead.

“Why would he want to kill me? What did I even do?”.

“He’s… possessive. Insecure.” she shuffles uncomfortably. Though normally quite straightforward, she couldn’t get herself to tell you the truth. He can tell you have a crush on me. She feels a warm, tingling realization in herself and quickly pulls her hand away from your cheek. Pull yourself together, you’re gonna get her killed.

“Is this why everybody but Starlight has been a fucking asshole to me?” you blurt.

“ I wish the answer was yes,” she grabs two of the beer bottles that had fallen to the floor. She opens them and hands one to you. “I thought if I ignored you, you’d quit. You’d go back to whatever city you came from and I’d never have to see you again”. You stare at her and make a face.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You take a swig of your beer.

“I wasn’t finished—I didn’t want you getting hurt, or.. killed. I thought if I ignored you, so would Homelander. And he did, up until now. He’s jealous of how quickly America has fallen for you, how everyone has…”. Her eyes meet yours, “Look, when we were recruiting you I could tell just how good you were… strong, smart, charismatic, beautiful-” she stops herself, faces forward, and finishes the rest of her beer. Her face tickled red with blush. “I didn’t want him to destroy that. Destroy you.”

“What about the others?” you scoot closer to her and rest your head on her bare shoulder. You could smell her perfume, some luxury brand’s vanilla scent you guessed. You lean in closer and sip your drink. She rests her head on top of yours and sighs.

“I told Deep if he touched you… I’d kill him. And A-Train.. he is just an asshole.” The two of you shared a laugh. You finished your beer and she set it aside for you. Your pinky grazed her hand before you finally got the courage to hold it. Your hand was barely touching hers, scared of your newfound strength. She smiled somberly and squeezed your hand. You turned to face her and reached to hold both of her hands, staring at her head on.

“Do you think he’s really going to kill me?”.

“I don’t know. That’s why you need to leave. Tonight. Please.” she brought your hands to her mouth, you could feel her breath blowing across your fingers. She pressed a small kiss into your hand, and began to stand and leave. You were left on your knees, staring up at her.

“Please.” was the last thing she said before she disappeared into the elevator. You remained on the floor, finally letting your tears free. Choking back sobs you rose, slightly unstable and headed towards the shower.

-

You pampered yourself with all the products Vought had provided in your suite, taking extra care to remove all the glitter from the earlier interview. ‘I’m just their fucking circus animal.’ You scrub your face harder at the thought, then shut off the water, snapping the handle in the process. “Fuck off.” you muttered as you drop the hunk of metal onto the shower floor. You step out and grab a towel. The softness of it grounds you for a minute, but when you look into the mirror and meet your own eyes the image of the ad from before flashes in your mind. ‘You’re just a DOLL! A NEW TOY VOUGHT LOVES TO PLAY WITH!’ White hot rage floods your vision as your thoughts continued to race. When you came to, the mirror was shattered and shards covered the counter. You huffed and went to put on your nightwear.

Anger still boiling inside, you grab the TV remote and power it on. A re-run of a recent Homelander interview is playing.

“How about the newest member of the Seven, Replicate, I mean she’s been blowing up on social media everywhere! Tell me, what is it like working along side her?” the too-chummy interviewer asked.

“Well. I haven’t personally been on any missions with her but I’m sure she’ll be a great teammate when she has time in her schedule — I mean a new show takes a lot out of a person.” Homelander commented, his hands gripped tightly onto his thighs.

“Any spoilers you can hint to, Homelander Does she copy your powers? A-Trains? Noirs?!”

“Hah..” he was tense, “ I’d like to see her try.” He jokingly punched the reporters arm.

The interview continued but all you could hear was a ringing in your ears, your fist clenched and unclenched before you let out a guttural growl, screaming and soaring your fist through the wall. Over and over again, unrelenting, you only stop when there is nothing left to hit.

“Fuck you.” you spit, glaring back the the TV which was now playing an ad for The Deep’s newest audio book.

Try to fucking kill me, asshole. You shook the drywall off your fist and laid down in your bed, passing out from exhaustion at some point.

-

You wake up, gasping. The first hints of sunrise trickling in through your window. Your bedroom looks like the aftermath of a frat party, groaning you get ready for the meeting. You’re ready to face Homelander and whatever shit he was about to put you through, but your hand still trembles as you go to put on mascara. Recollecting the sensations, smells, and images from last night sent a wave of adrenaline throughout your body. Jesus… c’mon pull yourself together. You try to push the thoughts of Maeve to the back of your mind, promising yourself you’d revisit them later — if you survive.

You are the second member to arrive at the meeting table. The Deep is there, sat awkwardly in his chair. He stares you down. You take the seat farthest away from him and sit with your legs crossed, looking around at all the things you’ve only caught glances of. The Deep clears his throat and shuffles in his seat.

“So you finally got the green light? About time. I figured you were always too busy doing girl shit. Brushing your hair or whatever.” He huffs and rolls his eyes.

Stunning intellect. Smiling, you reply, “Homelander invited me last night, we had a great chat. I hope you finally start to see me as one of you. I feel lucky to be in a room with such talented heros.”

He titters, intrigued by your mentioning of Homelander and the not so subtle boost of his ego. He rises from his seat and starts to cross towards you.

“You know… I could always help you train sometime. Just the two of-“. He’s cut off by the sound of a throat clearing. You both turn towards the door, Maeve enters with her eyes staring daggers at the man next to you.

“Woah! Chill… Not touching her!” he raises his hands up defensively and sulks back to his seat. A-Train and Black Noir enter shortly after. She takes the seat next to you, and turns her harsh gaze to you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She rasps.

“I-“

“Ahh - Replicate so glad to see you could make it. It’s about time you joined us, I mean you are one of the Seven after all.” Homelander’s voice booms through the meeting room.

Starlight enters in the middle of his speech. Your eyes meet briefly as she takes her seat. She instantly turns towards Maeve. She furrows her brows and subtly motions to you. Maeve gives no response and crosses her arms, eyes now watching Homelander’s every move.

You stand, “Thank you, Homelander. I’m truly honored to serve.” You place your hands over your heart and sit back down. Worm your way in. Worm your way in. If you could get him to believe you were truly submissive to him, you might get out of this unharmed.

“As you all know, someone has been supplying our enemies with Compound V. Temp V specifically, which is being made solely here in this tower. In our own Vought Tech labs.” He puts his arms behind his back and leans on the balls of his feet, “Which, sadly, means it’s most likely an inside job. I mean, how could someone betray me like that — us like that?” He shakes his head and scans across the table, eyes eventually meeting yours.

“Replicate, for your first mission, I want you to find this traitor and eliminate them. You’d be doing something none of the other members could accomplish. I know you won’t let me down.” He clasps his hands together and smiles, “Of course you’ll be granted access to any supe’s power you need to get your grubby little hands on, you’ve been granted access to the labs — go wild!” He tosses a flash drive to you. “Meeting dismissed.”

>back

>next

[knockoffheart]

newest member of the seven (1/6)

summary: you are the newest member of the seven, you have been working there for about 6 months. you are considered a rookie and only used for media — today is the day that changes.

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains no smut. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

***

Even though you’ve been working at Vought HQ for months, everyone still sees you as the rookie. Honestly, you are — you’ve stopped a handful of crimes that barely made the nightly news, it’s nothing compared to what the other members of the Seven do on a weekly basis.

The only member of the Seven who pays who any mind is Starlight, she really is America’s Sweetheart. You go to her for advice about how to get invited on missions, how to get Homelander’s approval, how to get Queen Maeve to even look at you.

“Worming your way into the hearts of people is your strength — keep that up and I’m sure you’ll be joining us on missions in no time” the blonde hums out. She gives you a soft smile and squeezes your shoulders, you swear you see a glint of worry behind her eyes. Before you can say anything she heads off to the meeting room, you hear the start of a conversation but the doors close before you can make anything out. Sighing, you try to pull your phone out of your suit — tight as it is you manage to wiggle around enough to free it. You absentmindedly open up the first app that catches your eye, before you can even start scrolling an ad covers the screen. You move your finger towards the tiny ‘x’ but before you can press it—

‘VOUGHTS NEWEST SHOW — REPLICATE: COPY THIS’

“Holy shit…” you whisper to yourself, your smirk working its way to a full on grin. Your face stares back at you. They had you pose seductively with a mirror, your real face and the one in the mirror look toward the camera, a sultry pout on each of them. You swipe off the app and open up the latest hero polls.

HERO POLLS - UPDATED: 3hrs ago

Number 1 - Homelander

Obviously… you continue to scroll. Starlight is number two and number three is… Replicate. Your eyes widen in shock, you’re more popular than half of the Seven! Homelander certainly has to take you seriously now. You scroll up and see Queen Maeve, the picture they used is great. Her hair perfectly frames her face, alluring eyes staring back at you and her costume really frames her—

“Hey! Replicate! Get your ass over to the studio before I have to put a fucking Xerox in your seat instead.” Ashley. Great. You roll your eyes and tuck your phone back into your suit before turning around with a forced smile.

“Right. The interview. Sorry.” you force out through gritted teeth as you start to make your way to the elevator. Ashely grabs your forearm and pulls you back.

“Wait! You have to touch this fucking sparkly twink first.” she motions to a thin blonde standing behind her, absolutely covered in glitter.

“Production wants you to have this glitter power for the interview— saves us money.” She smirks at you. The blonde man limply flicks his hand towards you, a blast of glitter hits you in the face. You grab his hand and squeeze it a little too hard before tossing it down and storming towards the elevator. You wipe at your face trying to brush away all the glitter.

—

“There’s no ‘dupe’ for this supe! Am I right?” the interviewer grins, leaning over the desk towards the audience. They respond in wild, energetic cheer and you even hear an ‘I LOVE YOU REPLICATE!’ from someone in the back. The interviewer squawks with laughter, clapping and settling down in his seat before turning towards you.

“Well, I’d say that’s a pretty clear answer. Now, Replicate, any last things you’d like to say about your upcoming show?”

“Let’s just say this show will really show everyone my sparkle.“ you gracefully move your arms over yourself and a dusting of glitter rains over you before soaring to the audience. They burst into gleeful screams, scooping of handfuls of glitter up and shoving it into their pockets, purses, and ugh one creep is even putting some in their mouth. The interview ends and you wrap up the last few selfies with those fans who paid god knows how much to get this close to you.

—

You start your trek to your room, staring down at your phone the whole way. As you turn a corner you bump into something solid. You look up from your phone and are met with a chest, you look up a little further, Queen Maeve’s chest.

“Jesus. Watch where you’re going.” the redhead groans, staring down at you. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, you only let out a shaky breath.

“Queen Maeve! I- Oh. I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking, I just came from an interview for my new show and-“ the words spill out of your mouth faster than you can understand them. She lets out a soft laugh and crosses her arms.

“Yeah I heard all about that new show of yours — you’ve even surpassed me in polls.” Her eyes are piercing but she’s wearing a slight smirk. You open your mouth but quickly shut it. Looking down and running your hands through your hair, trying to regain some dignity you take a deep breath.

“I did?” you let out and forced laugh “ It’s probably a mistake or glitch, you’re way better than me! I don’t even go on missions, I’m just a personality hire really-“

“Okay, okay! Calm down, you’re doing fine. I don’t give a shit about those stupid polls.”

Your smile drops and you quickly shut off your phone, putting it back in your suit. You look up at her nodding, “Yeah. They’re dumb!” you agree reluctantly.

“ I didn’t mean it like that..” she rubs her forehead and works her way through her hair, “I was never good at that sort of thing. Public Opinion.” she groans.

“I would never have guessed. I mean you and Homelander are such a power couple.”

“Yeah. The people really love him.”

“They love you too Maeve.” you smile and touch her arm, “Who wouldn’t?”.

“Thank you. That means a lot, really.” she smiles down at you, her hand is now resting on yours. She seems unaware she’s tracing small circles with her fingertip. She takes in a deep breath and speaks, “I’ve been an asshole to you. I know it seems like for no reason but-“.

Before she can finish her sentence you feel a gloved hand grip your shoulder, hard. You hold your breath and copy Maeve’s powers, almost instinctively. The grip on your shoulder begins to hurt a lot less. Maeve’s face drops to its usual stoic self, you realize her hand is no longer on yours.

“Queen Maeve and Rep-Li-Cate! I didn’t know we were having a party. Did my invitation get lost in the mail?” Homelander hums. Although he’s smiling, the grip on your shoulder is tightening. You turn around and look up meekly, he restores his firm grasp, blue eyes staring intensely down at you. You stutter out the beginning of his name before Maeve cuts in.

“Homelander. I was just about to ask Replicate here for some advice on boosting myself in the polls. She’s climbing up pretty quickly.” Her smile is clearly fake, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she stands behind you. You can’t tell if it’s protective or if she is offering you up to Homelander as some sort of sacrifice. The smile on his face twitches as he looks down at Maeve’s hand on top of his.

“I could never be number one like you, Homelander, you’re America’s savior.” you speak clearly, for what felt like the first time since running into Maeve. You swear you feel her grip tighten when you say ‘savior’.

“Well, yes.” Homelander regains control of his smirk, “Thank you.” He starts to trail away, Maeve takes her hands off your shoulders and grabs your wrist, before she can take a step Homelander turns around.

“You know, Replicate, I think it’s about time you went on your first mission. Join our meeting tomorrow. Of course, only if you’re able to.” He waves goodbye, but does not make a move to leave, instead he watches as Maeve drags you down the hall towards the elevator.

“T-thank you sir!” is all you manage to get out before you’re pulled into the elevator, pressed against Maeve. She pushes the button to your room so hard it dents the panel. Before you can say anything she corners you. She stares down at you, brows furrowed, trying to catch her breath. You hadn’t known she lost it in the first place.

“Queen Maeve, wha-“ before you can finish, her palm clamps over your mouth silencing you. You stare up at her, bewildered. It feels like hours before the door opens to your floor. She shakes her head ‘no’ and removes her hand from your mouth. She steps into your room and places her hands on either side of her head, rubbing her temples.

“Queen Mae-“ you whisper.

She cuts you off, “Maeve. Please, just Maeve.”

“Maeve. What the hell happened back there? What is going on with you?”

“Homelander is a murderous fucking psychopath. He will kill you. That’s probably what that mission is, a fucking death sentence. You need to leave. Now. Fuck. Okay, we have to find A-Train. Just touch him and get the fuck out of here, please.” She is pacing back and forth now rubbing her neck, her throat feels like it’s closing.

“What are you talking about? Is this a joke or some sort of initiation? Are you feeling okay…?” you start to approach her but her glare sends you toward the kitchen instead.

You go to pour both of you a glass of water, maybe something a little stronger. You reached towards the fridge door, mind racing. ‘What. The. Fuck.’ keeps repeating in your heard over and over again. You don’t even notice you’ve ripped the fridge door clean off until Maeve yells.

“Fuck! How did you even-“ she takes a long look at you, “You copied my fucking powers? Why?!”.

“I don’t- I don’t know! I got scared and the last power I had was fucking glitter! God. How do you control this shit?!” You try and fail to reattach the fridge door before flinging it at the picture over your bed, it lodges into the artwork, ruining the serenity it used to hold. You crumple to the floor and lean against the cabinets, fighting back tears. “Fuck!”. The cool air from the fridge sending chills down your arms. “Why would he want to kill me? What did I do wrong?”

Maeve slides down beside you and the two of you sit in silence. You rest your head back against the cabinet and look over at her, eyes puffy. Your mascara is smeared and parts of it are running, you still have glitter in your hair—which is sticking to your now wet face. Maeve’s expression is solemn, she pushes the hair out of your face and stares into your eyes. Her thumb gently caresses your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

>next

[knockoffheart]

I could take them both (not in a fight)