#Victoria neuman

[horror-sapphic]

thinking about vicky being maternal—how she’d refer to herself as mommy in bed. she’d eat u out until ur crying and then she’d wipe your tears and nurture you 😵‍💫 “shh, baby, you did so good for mommy. i’m so proud of you.”

cw: dub con but not really idk, Rough fingering, overstimulation, cry kink (?), Mommy Vic, breast sucking/lactation kink in the end (a warning is issued before the scene).

She's soooo into being called mommy and babying you like the good mommy she is.

She loves having you spread out on the bed melted into a quivering mess from all the orgasms she's dragged out of you, fucking you into a babbling mess.

"Oh poor baby, I fucked you silly, didn't I? didn't mommy?" she teases with a look of mischief living in her brown eyes, "Mhmm" you'd hum.

Completely spaced out of your mind with your cunt leaking with so much cum, the scrunched bedsheets under you are soaked and sticky.

"More, mommy's gonna make you cum more. Okay baby?" she coos, wiping the tears that has started to slip away from your teary eyes as she started playing with your clit. You were so sensitive your lower half began to shake and jerk under her gentle, slow touches.

"Nuh, please" you whine from exhaustion, bucking away from her enticing hand. "Shhh" she whispers, her thumb beginning to speed up. The soft slicking sounds coming from your leaky pussy just pushes her to want to keep going and pushing you more and more.

More tears begin to spill from you as her fingers begin to move away from your clit to entering your dripping cunt, "No baby, just one more for mommy" she pleads. Using her older hand to pry your legs back open after you tried to pin them together out of soreness.

Adding a second finger to your tired hole made you lose it, balling from a mixture of pleasure and pain in which the two lines became blurred into a line of nothingness. The only thing that was being signaled by your brain was the instruction to cry, which only egged Vic on more.

"Say thank you mommyyy" she teased, going faster and faster. Your squelching tight cunt filling the room along with your cries.

"Th- th- tha- thank you mommy AHH" you finally cried before your body began to erupt in shakes as the 5th intense orgasm washed out you, forcing you to squeeze your legs even tighter around her wrist making her slow your motions down.

Your tight hole squeezing in a hypnotic rhythm around her digits, milking them before she gently pulls them out, with help from your gooey pussy.

lactation stuff below...

She pulls your head into her lap, cradling you before pulling her milky breast out for you to suck on to calm down. She wipes the runny tears slowly running down your cheeks, trying desperately not to get started again after feeling your warm and inviting lips wrap around her brown nipple, slowly sucking down the milk from them.

"Mmm" you groan out at this intimate feeling, hearing you hum down her milk. "Such a good baby" she whispers in your ear.

"Such a gooood baby"

[neumansg1rl]

my brain is like chemically wired to fall for women who can hurt me

[vinnianlovesdinosaurs]

Why characters like Homelander, The Deep, and Soldier Boy are idolized/admired.

If you've seen The Boys on Amazon Prime you know it's no secret that people are major fans of characters like Billy Butcher, Homelander, Soldier Boy, and The Deep. While I can't lie, I do find them to be interesting and entertaining characters, I also can't lie that a lot of the reason those characters are so popular among the audience is because of the fact that they literally bully and abuse women. For Example:

Homelander: Rapist, openly misogynistic multiple times, bullied Maeve, Victoria, and Annie throughout the entire series, calls multiple female characters "Whores" throughout the series, and holds himself above his female counterparts.

Soldier Boy: Openly misogynistic off jump, extremely abusive, a pervert, and it's very clear he treated Countess like shit.

Billy Butcher: While he's not as bad as the other characters on the list he still bullies the shit out of Annie and Kimiko, forces Kimiko to do his bidding, cheated on his wife (before she went missing), and just says borderline weird shit about women.

The Deep: Rapist, misogynist, abusive, a zoophile, and openly says terrible things about women like Annie and Ashley.

Of course they aren't the only male characters like that in the show, but they are the most popular. All over the internet you'll see people editing the characters clips of them saying or doing terrible things to people, and it's usually always women they're doing it to. I see people making edits making fun of Becca Butcher for what Homelander did to her. I see people making edits of Soldier Boy for "owning" Countess by literally murdering her. I see people making edits of The Deep after he openly calls Annie or Ashley a bitch, there's also an edit of him saying womp womp to Annie because her exposing him for sexually abusing her didn't hurt him at all. Like I said in the beginning, I find all these characters interesting, but without misogyny and their attractive actors, they wouldn't be nearly as popular.

[princesssmars]

concrete jungle with the devil.

some victoria neuman x reader headcanons.

part.ii of this

you’re beautiful, you’re talented, and you’re the secret girlfriend of a hot and potentially crazy congresswoman. what more could you ask for?

contains : fxf relationship. fluff. angst. manipulation, pretty toxic relationship because its the boys and its victoria, mentions of smut. readers hair and face not described.

wc : 2.415

a/n : started this when season two was airing. look at what an idiot i was.

you had forgotten how much walking was done in certain cities in the states, especially in the big apple. to be fair, you’d forgotten quite a few things.

you remembered things you had forgotten gradually after that night when you realized you were not only a supe, but a supe that had been unknowingly manipulating yourself with your apparent superpowers into forgetting parts of your life. would be a cool plot for a book if it wasn’t your entire life but, whatever.

after managing to think of the revelation without nearly having a panic attack and ‘crazy high blood pressure’ as victoria so eloquently put it, you’d fallen into a kind of…ease?

in her ‘loving worry’ the woman had put you under her watchful eye, moving you into her home to prevent you from doing anything ‘drastic’ and helping you acclimate to your new state of living. she paid for your expensive hotel for another week before not subtly (and not asking) recommending you stay in her townhome.

and she’ll make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be the entire time. find the guest bed uncomfortable? her first offer is for you to just sleep with her, but she’ll settle for making sure you have a new mattress and comforter set. feeling sad over your rapid change in diet? a personal chef is hired to make you authentic parisian dishes to your hearts content.

it’s completely jarring how she has such a hold on your heart. you know a part of you can’t move on because of your powers, but every time you try to remind yourself of how weird your situation is you’re roped right back in when she comes home from work and tells you how she was thinking of you all day, giving you physical affection when you seem open to it by pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

as childish as it is, a small part of you wishes you had an actual label for your relationship. ‘woman who wooed me then flew me across the globe to accomplish my dream and then revealed she wants to take advantage of my unexplored power’ was more than a mouthful. even ‘partner’ would be preferable.

it’s amplified by the fact that you aren’t really in a relationship.

you’ve slept together, something you embarrassingly think about often at night when your hand trails beneath the soft satin pajama set she had gifted you. at the end of the day you do have needs, and having your sexual world rocked only to have to (reasonably) avoid the perpetrator as best as you can is all too confusing to process.

not to mention that she still treats you sweetly and romantically when in private, fingers brushing over your arms and pet names whenever she sees you in a room of her house, but outside and in public her career calls for…propriety? and a relationship with another woman in your career would hurt her numbers apparently. at least that's what her publicist said. she didn't seem very bright yo you, but victoria was throwing hundreds at her to support her campaign.

and oh yeah, she decides to tell you randomly on a thrusday night in while making dinner with her daughter that she actually is talking with another politician about running for president and vice president. zoe had to help you when you nearly choked on your pasta.

you hadn't delved too deep into politics when over in paris, only googling the basics about small party leaders who'd show up to bars and would likely engage in small talk over a few drinks. the first time you even learned about vic's profession you already heard alarm bells in your head, but president? seriously?

she tried to reassure you about it, listing off all the benefits it would bring to her family - which now apparently includes you. a better government position meant a better quality of living, moving into the secure grounds of number one observatory circle with access to the government's protection, connections, and loads of money. you and zoe both perked up at that. you looked at the girl curiously and she shrugged her shoulders, admitting later that she would like to be able to travel to more places farther than the met.

unsurprisingly, you grow closer to zoe. you aren’t given many opportunities to make a lot of friends, and the only adult conversations you get are your friends back in pairs over the phone and victoria along with her campaign help. at first you helped her a little with her homework, even if the curriculum for her private school was leagues above what you learned in your little low-budget middle school. eventually, you start to just talk about shared interests, and you're pleasantly surprised to find out the girl is musically gifted. its sweet to see that vic set up a corner of her office for the girl to practice her talents, and whenever she offers you listen to her play a piece on her cello.

you never bring it up, but one time victoria stopped at the house for a long lunch once and overheard the two of you talking about a piece you both loved before zoe practiced it on her instrument. she stood out of sight in the doorway for a minute and just observed. as soon as you noticed her presence she was gone.

when things start looking up in the polls vic starts to show a little leniency with letting you have an actual life. of course she uses some backdoor connections to get you a boost in your career, and you find a great deal of peace in being able to perform to your hearts content. it only helps that the atmosphere of entertainment in new york is alive and bursting, you meet so many fellow musicians and singers.

slowly but surely you start to fall for the city. sure it can be dirty and smell weird and have heaps of garbage everywhere, but just like with paris you’re able to find the hidden jems that lurk just below the surface.

and after some pestering whenever the two of you manage to be in a room alone together for more than a few minutes, victoria finally starts to explain to you…well, you.

you’d always gotten a bad feeling by vought, never liked the way they profited off of the supers and marketed them to certain countries and people. finding out that they made you the ‘way you are’ . apparently, both you and vic’s parents thought letting a company shoot some super drug into their children would a smart idea, that you’d both go on to do something great.

“well, i guess you are kind of great, in a sense. smart enough to become a politician, raise a good kid. are they proud of you?”

she only gave you a dry chuckle as she took a sip of her dark wine.

“yeah, yeah they’re really proud.”

as much as you start to try, you cant get in to her head. you’ve been thrust into the middle of her life and routine and there’s still so many things about her you don’t know. hell, you don’t even know what her power really is still. you can tell she wants to let you in some, either for her own feelings or because she wants to help you explore your supercharged feelings for her to understand more about your abilities.

but just like when you talked about vought, as soon as she’s about to open up you see that look, one of a fear you’d never quite seen before flash in her eyes before she quickly dismisses you.

so you decide to tale a.. drastic measure to get some things out of her.

you had been exploring your power a bit in your new daily life, just little things that didn’t make too much of a difference or affect anyone too greatly. a simple request for the customer ahead of you to apologize to a barista they’d needlessly ridiculed, innocently asking a rushing passerby to give you directions to a cafe you had just been dying to try. it took a few weeks to get the hang of it, the fact that it apparently worked best when you were singing and the toll it could take on your body, but the dizziness fades eventually.

it’s a rare night where the two of you are in the house alone together and you decide to celebrate your recent well-perceived performance by opening up a bottle of bubbly and sitting on the couch, dressed in some maybe too revealing pajamas and waiting for her to inevitably join you once she finishes settling in from a long day at the campaign office.

she joins you and clink s her glass to yours, rolling her eyes into your drink when you immediately ask her a question about all of her plans.

“its gonna take more than some expensive champagne and you looking like that for me to crack, but nice try sweetheart.”

“oh yeah?” your finger teases the rim of your glass, eyes trained on her movements.

“yeah. let’s stick to the basic questions for now.”

you hum a short tune to yourself and take another sip of your drink. “okay. you should tell me what you had for lunch today.”

“patricia picked me up a ceasar salad today. it had too many croutons, a really absurd amount. sat confused for a few seconds.”

her eyes scrunch up slightly and flick to yours. you take her silence as a sign to keep going.

“i never really get to talk to your assistant. she told me once her name was morticia.”

she laughs and sets her glass on the coffee table, “think she might’ve been intimidated by you. she can be a real tightass but she’s a hardworker, believes in my campaign and message and all that shit.”

“dont try to skirt past that, tell me why she’s intimidated by me.”

her eye twitches, clearly annoyed by what you’re doing and not used to someone having this kind of control over her. but each time you do it you notice the way her hand clenches on the cushion of the sofa, how her tongue darts out to quickly lick over her bare lips.

“she wants me, checks me out sometimes when we’r ein the office. but the reason i hired her is that she’s incredibly observant, and she’s probably picked up that the two of us have a weird thing going on.”

your eyes slightly scrunch together. “what do you mean by ‘weird thing’ ?”

clearly your aggravation at how she decided to describe...admittedly whatever this weird thing between the two of you was, its enough for your concentration to slip and allow her to get out of the concentrated hold you had on her mind. in only a few seconds she’s pinning your body down to the couch, your wrists held down by her hands and your drink falling to the floor with a loud shatter.

‘ugh! vic, what the hell-” you struggle to get out of her grip, thrashing your arms and trying to kick up your legs that are trapped under her thighs. you apparently greatly underestimated how strong she is.

“that’s it baby, get angry, let it all out.” she has a fascinated smile on her face that does nothing to quell your frustration, only giving you the desire to get right back to messing with her anyway how.

“tell me why you’re doing this to me!”

“i like watching you under me, plus i like having control over you. definitely don’t want you turning the tables on me again.”

you notice that when you command her to explain her voice takes on this fast tone, like she’s rushing to answer you as soon as you finish speaking.

“you think i’ve dont you what you’ve done to me?”

“isn’t it fucking obvious? you just forced me to tell you something i wasn’t supposed to mention. i have to keep sharing things with you, you make me want to share things with you. you’re controlling me and you don’t even know it.”

“why don’t you want me to control you?”

“because i’ve been controlled before. its horrifying. you could be horrifying. because it’s not part of the plan. none of this is. god, you were supposed to be gone by now but i just can’t…i don’t-”

both of you’re eyes are wide when her speech starts to slip, fighting against the control to keep telling you what she’s hiding. her head jerks and you feel a rush of hot liquid rush down your face, your hand miraculously free to let you feel the blood pouring out of your nose. you look back at her and she’s scrambled to the other end of the couch, eyes trained ahead of her as she gets herself out of the daze.

abruptly she stands up, swiping off any leftover unease and starting her trek towards the stairs as you wipe off the now slow moving trail of fluid trailing from your nose.

as soon as she reaches the first step you call out to her, blood dripping into your mouth as your voice takes on a bittersweet and melodic sound.

“how do you feel about me, victoria?”

her manicured hand clenches around the wood bannister so hard you fear it’ll snap.

“you’re powerful. you’re useful and you’re terrifying.”

tears prick at your lashline as you swipe at more of the red covering your mouth. her head turns to meet your blurry gaze.

“i think i’m in love with you.”

you zone out to the sound of her footsteps rushing up the stairs and the light-headness from exertion.

you had forgotten what one one of the worst things about being in a city was. how despite being surrounded by thousands of people and hundreds of lives, inevitably came those times where you were alone as a person could be.

[empthy1]

first meetings ⌬🧬! victoria neuman x reader

this is a completely self-indulgent fantasy for me myself and i. perhaps when i am (hopefully) also getting my PhD in genetics, many years in the future, there will be a beautiful woman questing to possess me when i present my research. 1.3k words.

"So, how'd you two meet?"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

God, there was no reason for her to be here. 27, riding the high of her first election into the House, representing her state of New York? She didn't have time to be at Columbia's Annual Science Showcase. She had work to do, an office to prepare.

Yet, here she was, pushing through crowds of academics. Every shoulder that checks her and every hand guiding her absentmindedly by only seems to further aggravate the fine fabric of her blouse, wrinkling the silk immaturely.

At least she had excuses, things to say to the press if they did catch her here at the most inopportune time. 1, Columbia's her alma mater. 2, she knows Professor Peterson well—for no other reason than her repeated frequenting of his office hours. No one's good at genetics.

Yet, someone must be good at it, given the buzz she'd heard.

A study many were eager to get their hands on, a newly-awarded PhD who's work was partially funded and supplied by Vought themselves.

The effects of Compound V on the offspring of those afflicted with it.

Using mice, of course.

A particularly unexplored topic. Most focused on the Supes—not what could happen to their children. It's what no one expected to have to worry about when super-powered individuals started popping up. What about their children?

Well, she had to know. Would Zoe, her beautiful, vibrant daughter be cursed the way she would? Would she, herself, be doomed to an early death just like her parents?

She couldn't let that happen. The fact that Sameer was unafflicted should be a genetic safeguard, if it was bound to a recessive gene, but still. Being idle wasn't worth the risk.

She'd have to figure it out—without spilling to the researcher that she had powers herself.

She just didn't expect the researcher to be so damn cute.

She had expected that (like the floor of Congress, the one she would soon frequent) the presenter would be some old, white man, bribed and biased.

No. The young, plucky student that walked across that expansive stage, hands shaking around the clicker yet breaths relatively steady, was anything but what she expected. She's just realizing that her overactive daydream of a frizzled, greying goof was rather archetypal.

She wasn’t expecting to be distracted by the pushing-up of thin, wire-frame glasses or the shy little quirk of lips at any and all applause from the audience. The sweater and mused hair were apt to her imagination; yet they seem purposeful and inherently distracting. The involuntary turning of her gaze from informative slides to sweetly framed wrists was unpleasant to say the least. Wrists of all things.

She should've known this might happen, given her past fling. Yet, she thought the days of the passion-filled thumping of her heart were past her, replaced instead with a familial tenderness and a business-like disposition.

No such luck.

Her luck, wonderful, torturous luck, continues to torment. The wonderful lecturer? A student of a most familiar professor.

"Hello. Professor Peterson!" Whew. The last time she sounded that strained? Her debate against that imbecilic oaf of a Representative, right on the floor. She's speaking through clenched teeth, smiling like she doesn't have a care as she's tugged into the group of intellectuals.

"It's been forever, hasn't it?"

She's greeted to a chorus of hums and one gentle nod. It's not as if they don't know who she is. She'd been paraded around on the news, plastered in the streets and on thick newspapers. Hotshot, they called her. Bold, a new face. Her opponents just called her brash and opinionated.

Nevertheless, the publicity stuck. So soon after the election, she's sure to turn some heads. Even at an event focused on a completely different discipline.

"Victoria! Have you met my protege?" And oh, who does the professor proudly present but you. The keen researcher, wrapped in a sweater and topped with thin-framed glasses. Your smile is much easier off-stage, curling completely as you reach to shake her hand. Those wrists, the ones who unfairly drew her eyes, skim the tips of her fingers. She shivers.

"I have not yet. It's nice to meet you... Doctor?" Her chin lowers as she addresses you. Her dark eyes peek through her lashes, meeting yours intently.

"Yeah, it's Doctor now." You preen under the title, smile brightening. Her hand lingers in yours, but you certainly don't make any move to pull away.

The tension crackles, a low simmer between you. Despite their aloofness—having returned to a conversation about another presentation—they seem to notice. The moment between you two makes Professor Peterson smile wider. A gleam appears in his keen eyes.

“Why don’t you two go walk around together? See everyone else’s work.” He sends you off with an indulgent smile, the feeling the same as being sent to the kids table at thanksgiving. After being shooed away, you really can do nothing but roam together—the walk awkward.

You peruse the crowded convention hall silently. The press of people around the both of you forces shoulder-to-shoulder contact a number of times. Soon, an ease starts to build. You stumble, and she cups your lower back. She gets bumped and you take her hand to steady her. It all feels so juvenile, being shoved around and forced together like two Barbie dolls.

She starts to notice how your hands twitch. Every once in a while, when you both stop at a booth, you start to fidget with the hem of your sweater—brief smile spreading. She realizes you’re excited; her own lips ticking up, endeared.

“…you can talk, you know. I’d sure appreciate someone talk me through these concepts. I struggled through Bio 101.” She quips, huffed in your ear to combat the constant hum of chatter around you. It makes you laugh and smile, and spurs your voice as well.

Now she’s treated to your wonderful quips, little huffs about contaminated controls and insufficient trials. Your words curl in her ear, the heat of breath leaving her exhaling roughly—even though you’re explaining things like CRISPR and DNA replication.

She always did have a soft spot for the science-y types. The easy intelligence seemed to make something curl pleasantly in her abdomen.

At one booth, she finally surrenders to the feeling. When you lean in, giggling a quip about how hard mice are to work with, she exhales. One of her hands curls around your wrist, tugging you with her and throw the crowd with a mumble about needing the bathroom.

You attempt to be polite, promise to wait for her by the sinks—but you’re cut off when she tugs you into the stall with her. The tile wall is cool against your back, but her breath is hot on your lips.

“Tell me you want this.” She pleads lowly, pupils blown and hands boxing your head.

At your frantic, short nod, she leans in and devours—hands pushing up your sweater and nose bumping against your glasses.

The professor smiles smugly when you say quick goodbyes. He surely spots the blooming, dark mark on your neck, eyes flickering to it. He barely gets to tease you, a laugh of “good luck!” echoing behind you as Victoria tugs you away. A woman on a mission, she is. She’s applying to you the same relentless drive she gives to her work; you’re a bit frightened (and increasingly excited) at what that entails.

As you pant into the plush pillow, eyelids fluttering at the aftershocks and legs twitching against hers, she curls a possessive hand around your waist. Her warm, sweat-damp form intertwines with yours.

When she mumbles “you’re mine” against your hair, you only respond with a breathless huff of laughter, tucking your face into her neck.

[torncolourfultights]

kimiko miyashiro

[soldiergrimes]

I could take them both (not in a fight)

[totalfrybag87]

We’re so back season 4 edition (i’m sleep deprived)

[polar-biscuit]

i dont think victoria matches sage's freak but they should try 🩸📚

[yuri-ambassador]

Neuman is alive trust

[bnecaz]

I could fix her but I like her the way she is

[soldierboys]

THE BOYS 4.06 Dirty Business

[ladiesofcinema]

CLAUDIA DOUMIT as VICTORIA NEUMAN THE BOYS | Season 4, Episode 5 "Beware the Jabberwock, My Son"

[linusbenjamin]

The Boys 4.08 — Assassination Run

[janineirl]

bae come back youre so sexy hhaahah 🙏🏾🙏🏾

[sunriozz]

POV: you try to join the mean girls (you're firecracker)