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dollerinna · 8 months ago

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WOULD YOU LIKE AN ALMOND JOY .ᐣ

( black noir x gn!crime analyst reader )

summary: after a long day of work, you try to unwind by watching your comfort show, but your solitude is interrupted by yet another visit from noir, who seems to be finding more and more excuses to spend time with you… (includes a C.AI bot as part 2 below!)

wordcount: 2k

tags: brief mention of NSFW pop-up ads, nerdy n’ socially awkward reader, noir’s disdain for almond joys but he makes up for it at the end <3

It had been a long day at the crime analytics office in Vought. As the sun began to set, exhaustion crept over you after reviewing incident report after report. Your eyes strained from the blue glare of your computer screen. You knew you had promised your boss you would organize the ever-growing database, but the tiny voice of procrastination was pleading for rest before your overworked brain turned into a pile of mush.

Rather than more paperwork—you, being the slacker of all slackers in this department, decided a well-deserved break was in order. And what better way to recharge than turning off the noggin and filling it with good ol’ fashioned mindless entertainment?

With a few tired clicks of your mouse, you booted up your go-to streaming site, which was none other than 123movies. Scrolling through the options, your cursor hovered over the play button of your favorite trashy drama. The kind of cheesy, perfectly predictable melodrama spun from the worst of amateur YA plots. It was practically comfort food for your fatigued mind, just what you needed to loosen up after the mental marathon that was this long day.

As the opening credits began to roll, your computer began to whir and hiss like an overtaxed engine, emitting gusts of unusually hot air from the vents. Suddenly, its screen slowed to a sluggish crawl, cluttered with a barrage of not-so-savory pop-up ads. Barely a minute in, the pixels already scrambled to form images better to left unseen—half naked women in risqué yet tacky mermaid-like attire, claiming they were ‘just around the corner and ready for a good aquatic fuck.’

First of all, what the absolute living hell is an “aquatic fuck”??

Did you even want to know? And most importantly, what happened to the ad blocker you installed just the other day? Judging by the contents, you had a sneaking suspicion that slimy, sea-dwelling degenerate, The Deep, had tampered with your computer… yet again.

“For the love of-… what’s with all these pop-up ads?” you muttered under your breath as excessively explicit ads crowded out the episode. Your eyes darted furtively around the room to check for wandering glances, hoping against hope that none of your coworkers had noticed the unwanted filth invading your screen. Heart pounding, you squeezed your chair closer to your monitor into a makeshift barricade, shielding the display as best you could while hastily clicking away at the intrusive ads.

As you hurriedly closed the remaining windows, an ominous shadow fell across the screen. Dreading what—or who—might be behind you, you slowly swiveled your chair around to find Black Noir's stoic stare boring into your own.

You stifled a yelp as you instinctively clutched the armrests, catching yourself on the edge of your seat before an ungainly spill to the floor. Noir had a way of materializing without warning, and it never failed to unnerve.

“N-Noir!” you managed, inwardly cringing as your voice broke on his name. “Fancy seeing you in these parts. I was just taking a quick break and y’know- stretching ‘em brain cells.” You tried for a lighthearted chuckle, but it emerged as more of a strained squeak that faded into an anxious hum.

With a jerky flurry of clicks and the browser minimized from view, whatever dignity you still retained disappearing along with it. All that did remain was you praying to the heavens above that he hadn't noticed its questionable contents (even if he most definitely had and simply chose not to comment)

When Noir offered no response, you of course charmingly barreled ahead in your frazzled daze. “But anyways, s-sorry about that… how uh, can I help you today?” your words tumbled out in a breathless rush, punctuated by a shrill laugh you hoped disguised the mortification simmering beneath.

Noir cocked his head, observing you with that same silent intensity. You fidgeted, hands twisting in knotted discomfort, the heat in your ears now engulfing your entire face. Was it the invasive pop-ups that had you squirming in your seat? Or the fact he could snuff out your existence faster than you can say “workers’ comp”?

Either way, beneath the weight of his stare, you already felt as if you were some peculiar, freakish creature pinned for study, rather than some bumbling employee just trying to unwind and watch their comfort show.

And to him, you indeed were a fascinating, bizarre little human.

Mercifully, Noir chose to extend a folder toward you, putting an end to your somewhat pathetic withering. You accepted it with a wordless nod, nearly sagging in your chair as tension drained from your shoulders.

Whirling towards the familiar clutter of your desk once more, you pretended absorption in the folder’s material, hoping this signaled Noir’s leave. After all, has anyone seen the state of you? It certainly wasn’t a flattering one. Yet from the corner of your eye, you detected no movement, no receding footsteps—his shadowy form remained statuesquely in place.

Believe it or not, this has been becoming a thing, a growing habit of late—and a suspicious one at that. Lately his breaks had grown longer, minutes lengthening to quarters of an hour, all spent hovering at your desk as you worked. However, his focus was solely on watching and observing you. He never exhibited a hint of thought or motive for his reason there, only leaving you with questions that seemed to multiply by each and every visit.

Noir, on the other hand, was somehow utterly convinced that you and him were two peas in a tightly-knit pod. He swore you two were best of buds for life—even if "life" so far had only amounted to the past two weeks' worth of half-hour stretches where he silently observed your work from the corner.

Ironically, you didn’t have the slightest inkling of how he really felt. Instead, you always assumed that he, like most supes, regarded you as little more than a puny mortal—a fragile, near-useless sack of flesh and bones whose skull he was one misstep away from caving in with bare hands.

But nope, Noir was simply here to bless you, the nerdy but cute crime analyst, with his presence—his rather… unsettling presence.

The familiar hush settled as you reluctantly returned focus to the task at hand. Hocus-pocus-focus, you chanted mentally, peeling away the last shreds of stray thoughts to tap into the zone of productivity. Unfurling the dossier Noir provided, you began sifting through documents for insight on his purpose in approaching you. Meanwhile, a flick of movement in the edge of your vision revealed Noir's attention veer off course, the almond joy perched beside your keyboard capturing his notice.

You tensed, hocus-pocus-focus breaking, all too aware of past disappearances of snacks in these briefings. Sure enough, his hand drifted noiselessly toward the candy bar, no doubt spurred by ingrained impulse to dispose of it per his usual custom. But you'd grown wise to his methods by now.

Not again, you sighed inwardly, snatching the almond joy and cradling it protectively as if it were your dear, beloved child.

Noir made no move to withdraw, palm outstretched expectantly. You frowned, struggling to keep frustration at bay. "Please, come on- not this time!.. It's my last one for the day." Brows pinching, your tone threatened to rise before steadying with a slow and calm inhale. No use losing composure over candy, no matter the principle. So all you could do was peer beseechingly at Noir in silent appeal, legs jittering restlessly under your desk in building apprehension.

Unfortunately, you found no signs of leniency in his obscured face—only his hand beckoning relentlessly for the almond joy. You plea was once again met with stony resolve, as if he was internally distressed by the mere presence of it. What was he? Deathly allergic to almond joys or something?

With a resigned breath, you delivered the almond joy towards Noir's waiting glove, unable to hide the disappointment dimming your features. Your lips curled into a slight pout, gaze sinking heavy into your lap at being parted from the treat. Though Noir was never one for words, it really didn’t take a rocket scientist to see you felt bullied into submission by his demands. At the end of the day, what power did a measly analyst like yourself hold against one of the Seven? As your fingers uncurled, releasing the candy into Noir's grasp, you couldn't help but feel a bit put upon, even if that wasn’t his intention at all.

Noir was well aware of the upset feelings his request had caused, so in an attempt to remedy the situation, his arm was sent in a backwards reach for the notepad he often used to communicate. However, he found himself at a loss as words eluded him, his thoughts swirling in frustrating circles of “What should I even say?”—muddled and incoherent. For a moment he stared at you, mask betraying no emotion as he grappled to find the right words, despite the prick of guilt nibbling at his conscience. Then, lacking any better option, he simply tossed the offending candy into the trash, perhaps with more force than intended.

Clearly, socializing was not Noir’s strong suit.

With no further acknowledgment, Noir spun on his heel and marched away. You watched his retreating, rigid form with discomfort clenching your insides, eyes falling onto the lonely candy discarded in the trash, its colorful wrapper mocking your current disheartened state.

Wearily, you turned away from the almond joy, redirecting your attention toward the computer as a means to divert your now soured mood. Maximizing the browser, you hoped that your planned show may have had time to load during the interaction. But upon inspecting the screen, you found the video remained stubbornly stalled, stuck on buffering dots and refusing to roll despite the minutes passed.

Just. Peachy.

One (super)human encounter had sucked the very life source out of your dog-tired body, and now this. It was really shaping up to be one of those days.

Thoroughly worn out, you gently laid your head down onto the desk, pillowing it against the crook of your folded arms as eyelids slid shut. All you craved was to simply sleep away the remaining time until you could finally escape this wretched shift and retreat to the sanctuary of your home sweet home.

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As your shift wound down to its end, you were finally stirring from your slumber. Rubbing the sleep from your bleary eyes, your blurred vision sharpened to show your colleagues had long since departed while you were snoozing away.

Rising and squaring your shoulders, you began to gather your belongings in preparation to leave as well. Once you had collected everything and lifted to your feet, something in the far corner of your desk caught your eye. Approaching for a closer look in the dim lighting, the fuzzy outline gradually came into focus—a cluttered collection of Hershey's Kisses, their jumbled placement grouped to form the shape of a heart.

You blinked in bewilderment, rubbing your eyes once more to ensure you weren't imagining things. Stepping closer, you spotted a sticky note nestled within the heart of chocolates, scrawled upon in a crude, blocky hand. At first, you assumed it was some silly prank from one of your coworkers, but you knew you recognized the handwriting anywhere—it was Noir's.

Gingerly, you plucked the sticky note from the desk, lifting it to your line of sight to read the message. “Kisses taste better than almond joys…Sorry.” you read softly, your voice trailing off as confusion crept in.

Designed as a very apparent flirty gesture, the intent behind the note and chocolates still managed to whoosh straight over your head. As always seemed the case, even the most painfully obvious social cues could so easily evade your understanding—this proving no exception.

You slipped the sticky note into your pocket, then selected a foil-wrapped Kiss from the pile. Gently rolling the chocolate between your fingers, you unwrapped it and popped one into your mouth. You took time to savor its light cream filling beneath a smooth outer shell, face crinkling in thought and head tilting as you considered your verdict. “Eh… I’d beg to differ.” you mused with a shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you took your leave from the office.

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Pssst- likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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a C.AI bot as your very own part 2 where you thank Noir the following day:

a/n: saw somewhere that kisses don’t contain nuts but then I also saw someone else say they actually do??? So let’s just pretend the kisses Noir chose are completely nut-free for the sake of the plot 😭

also, the reader is very much based off Anika if it wasn’t obvious enough haha! She’s so y/n coded 😤💗

♡ divider credits: @/ianrkives

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lingulaca · 3 months ago

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"I guess you're new to this too"

Wayne doesn't have a place to stay, so he joins your family for dinner.

៚ word count - 1,175

៚ author's note - i looove wayne so i had to write smut about him. what a delicious boy am i right guys ?

also reader is intended to be the nurse's daughter

"...cause it's like, obviously the better option but she wanted me to ask you since you're the guest." You shifted, getting comfortable in your spot right next to Wayne. He just sighs as he leans back, ice pack over his right eye. The leather couch squeaked. He'd gotten into another fight, you assumed. "Yeah..." He wistfully mumbles.

"That... wasn't an answer." You turned your head to glance at your mom. She was still in the kitchen, prepping carrots and celery. Her music only got louder every second. "Huh?" Wayne yawned. The car ride to your house went on for so long he was on the cusp of slumber. "Chicken or fish?" You scooted closer, looking into his eyes to make sure he hadn't completely dozed off. He gave a lazy smile, hands falling to his sides. "I'll just tell her you said fish." You got up before being stopped by Wayne's fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt. "What kind of fish?" He feigned curiosity, Truthfully, he didn't give a fuck about the fish, his appetite was non-existent as a result of whatever meds your mom made him take so he likely wouldn't eat. "It's... flounder." It was Wayne's turn to grin now. "I love flounder." He didn't. He loved looking at your boobs. The angle happened to be perfect.

"It's good, right? The rice? I didn't overcook it, did I?" You rolled your eyes at your mom's words. Luckily, your younger cousin says what everyone was probably thinking. "Auntie, nobody cares." You notice Wayne right beside you, chuckling as he shovels what's on the plate into his mouth. "Is the fish okay? I seasoned it." He nods eagerly.

Suddenly, you get an idea. Taking one last sip of your drink, you tap Wayne's arm a few times before rushing off to your room downstairs. Wayne turns, causing his chair to creak. His thought process is a bit delayed, but he's always been curious about you so because the only one on one conversation you two ever had didn't satisfy that curiosity, he follows you. "May I be excused, miss?" He groans, the pain medicine from before was starting to wear off. "Oh of course, of course! Bathroom's in the middle of the hall."

Wayne's startled when he finds you sitting on top of the dryer. "Jesus, fuck, you scared me." You laughed, moving to lie down instead. "Sorry, wanted to surprise you..." "Well, consider me surprised." He leans on the wall, eyes focused on the sliver of skin above your waistband. "You should probably lock the door. She'd freak if she found out you were here with me alone." He then clambers to do as you said, struggling a little. "Let me-" He shakes his head. "No, I got it. Your door has a weird lock." Oh, right. "It's broken. The original one, I mean. My mom, that crazy bitch, she destroyed the thing with a knife a couple years back." Wayne' looks concerned but he keeps his smile. His brain feels all cloudy. "Why the hell would she do something like that?" You shrug. It was too long of a story, and you didn't wanna scare your guest away. "Early menopause, I guess. How'd you get that uh, black eye?" Wayne sat on the stairs right in front of your washer and dryer. "Some guy was pickin' on some kid." "Wow..." Your legs swung while you sat back up. "Yeah." Wayne's fingers tap the wall rhythmically. "So, you got a boyfriend?" He asks to make conversation. You smile, tone lowering in a teasing way. "Hm...?" "Nothing I just, uh... y'know, girls don't usually do all this with a guy they barely know if they have a boyfriend waiting on them. You invited me into your room."

"Alright, you got me, I don't have a boyfriend. Satisfied?" You're towering over him now, making him speechless. He looks up at you with his big, brown eyes. "C'mon, I got a king size bed, no reason for us to be sittin' over here." Wayne follows you again, as mindlessly as last time. Your bed is comfortable, lots of blankets and pillows and the mattress isn't one of those too soft ones. "I like your bed." He realizes that he's probably too close, though he doesn't move. "I like you." You grab his hand which makes him jump. Your hands were gentle and warm in contrast to his rough ones, still cold from being outside all day. "What?" He mumbles. "What?" You reply, lips only an inch away from his.

He's sure he died and went to heaven when you kissed him. He gasps when you pull him close, nearly on top of you at this point. "Um, I uh..." He averts his gaze. This can't be real, he thinks. Oh, but he knows it is. He knows it's real when he feels your hands go to his hair, treating the strands with more softness than he deserves. "Wayne," You whisper to him. "It's okay, just do what you would normally do." He doesn't know what he would normally do. He's never gone this far with anyone, but he'll be damned if he reveals that information now of all times. "Y- yeah. Yeah, I will." His voice is full of meek confidence.

"Aww, you don't know how to?" Wayne's face flushes. "Don't..." He wants to tell you to stop talking to him like a baby, but all that comes out are wordless whimpers. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent. He grinds his hips against yours, making you bite your lip as to not let out any sounds. "What I... what I normally do, yeah." What Wayne normally does is stay in his room and jerk of maybe twice a day. He assumes he'll have to find a new daily routine now that he's your guest.

He finds your entrance after getting multiple layers of clothing off you, pushing your panties to the side out of frustration. He looks into your eyes as he slips his first two fingers in, he read somewhere that girls love that. "Wayne, fuck," Your eyes roll back as you grasp the sheets under you. His free hand slid up your skirt. "Already, huh? I guess you're new to this too..." His fingers push upwards, poking and prodding at that spongy part deep inside you. "Wayne, mmm... I'm oh my god, I'm cumming..." This makes his eyebrows raise briefly before getting right back to the task at hand. What he lacks (for now) in dirty talk, he makes up for in technique. His thumb comes up to swipe over your clit which makes you finally reach your peak.

Wayne pulled his fingers from you and scanned the room in search of a rag for only a few seconds before nonchalantly licking your juices off of his hand. "Sorry you didn't, uh..." You start, having just caught your breath. "Nah, it's fine." He grins, showing you his no longer soaking hand. "Squeaky clean."