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.
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!”
“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.
“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.
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.”
“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.
“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.
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
