#Black Noir fanfiction

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end�� just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

-------☆-------

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

-------☆-------

Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[hanasnx]

Just found your Noir content. Glad someone is writing for him. Noir and breeding kink? Been thinking about Noir fucking me in a mating press ever since he attacked Starlight in season 2. He can hold me down and choke me out like that any day.

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: babe that fuckin mating press goes hard doesn’t it? goddamnnnnn. noir putting you in a mating press <333that whole thing with starlight was fuckin crazy i was clawing the walls

Rough grunts expel from BLACK NOIR’s nose with each sharp thrust, plowing into you from the angle the position provides. Folded up over yourself with no regard to your comfort, he’s got you bunched up in a way that pleases him. Heavy body leans over you, harsh hands on the backs of your thighs keeping you good and spread from him. You’ve certainly gotten more flexible since you’ve started fucking him. The edges of his armor dig into you, but you can’t even register it over the overwhelming sensation of being filled. Fat cock drives into you at a reckless pace, forcing air from your lungs as if its piston defines your diaphragm’s every move. You can barely breathe from being crushed.

There’s something different about his angle, not only is it mind-bending, tremors wracking through your body as your eyes roll so far back in your head they ache, but it’s the way he handles it. Grabbing you like he owns you, redirecting your body in any way he desires, muscling you into submitting underneath him so he can fuck your hole in peace when you squirm too much. Your cervix gets kissed by his tip occasionally, but he wants you to be still and take it. For his dick? You’ll do anything.

You let him mate with you. The way he’s fucking you reminds you of an animal. Pinning you down as if you’ll escape at your first chance, growls escaping him, possessively filling up your cunt with the wet sounds of a cock finding its home. Usually, you’re the dirty talker in the bedroom, but he’s effectively silenced you, yanking you into his bucks with his firm hold on your thighs.

It used to be difficult to tell what he’s thinking, but he can’t be more clear now. The stutter in his hips is a dead giveaway to his impending load, and usually this would be the point in which he’d pull out and fist his cock to cum on you. Stomach, face, ass, he loved to paint you. Instead, he’s keeping it in, not only that but he’s still moving. Like he wants to fuck a baby in you.

“Noir— Noir!” you scold, but he continues. Swollen cock bullying your insides as it twitches with need to cum. “Don’t you— don’t you dare—“ you’re able to get the words out, concentrating hard on forming a sentence when your brain is so empty. The idea of him cumming in you is appealing, but you don’t know how Supes work. You’ve never had that conversation with him. What if he’s not sterile?

Lips slot against your ear, and if you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn they form and mouth the word “baby.”

[edenoir]

thinking about writing a black noir x reader series, i have a plot i really reaaallyy want to write in mind. (what does lack of noir fics do to a poor soul..) i will give context as i start writing <3

[thesilmarillionblog]

STRANGER

Summary: Although you were always aware that Black Noir was silent, it didn't stop you from quickly developing a bond. However, as soon as he touches you when he gets home, something about him feels off. You ignore his attitude since it still feels so nice, despite the fact that it feels like he is someone else entirely, a stranger.

Pairing: Black Noir / Reader

Warnings: Dark Fiction!, +18!Only, Smut, Suspense

Word Count: 2423

A/N: English is not my first language.

You asked Homelander and Ashley if Noir had been assigned to another mission because you were getting frustrated that he had not texted you back for days and had suddenly vanished. You were relieved when they informed you he had a lot on his plate, but you were also annoyed because it wasn't like him to ignore you or return your texts. One of his great virtues was that he would always text you back, even when you believed he was going to rip a head off during those missions.

Though you knew he couldn't talk which was a big obstacle for a healthy conversation, you moved his house months after you started dating without a second thought. You weren't in the slightest disturbed by that. Since actions speak louder than words, it was actually preferable if men said nothing at all. And Noir certainly knew how to express his affection for you.

You giggled uncontrollably at the memory of his adorable actions toward you. Even though he appeared tough and ruthless when wearing that black suit, he was always warm and affectionate with you. He was regarded by the world as one of the most formidable, vicious, and dangerous supe alive, yet you were aware of his extreme thoughtfulness and sensitivity, particularly with regard to his relationship with you.

No matter how much you wanted to see him, you didn't push him, even if he didn't take off his mask or suit at all while you were around. You knew he was extremely sensitive about how he looked and everything. When he finally trusted you enough to show himself to you, you knew he would eventually open himself up. 

You made the decision to dress elegantly and boldly for his gaze when he eventually texted you back to say he would be home tonight. You knew he liked you in short, lace-covered satin gowns. It had been nearly two weeks since he returned home, and you were aware that he missed you just as much as you did. 

It was when he eventually came home, after you had been waiting for him for hours with your dress on and messaging him nonstop, that you understood how much you liked him. You couldn't help but think about him and grin to yourself at all of your adorable times together when he acted a little goofy and awkward.

As he slowly made his way inside the home, you said, “Hey,” and gave him a quick hug. "Welcome home."

Noir offered you a strong hug in return and nodded as if he wanted to say the same thing. You then landed a firm kiss through his mask and said, “I've missed you too.”

As Homelander and Vought cautioned him not to talk, especially when you were around, Black Noir tried his hardest to remain silent. It was told to him that you were Noir's partner, and since Vought already had too much on its plate these days, it would be best if you didn't realize he wasn't the real Noir. He didn't mind you acting like your adorable, naive lover since he had seen your pictures and the way you texted him as though you were in heat, making it obvious that you wanted to be fucked till you were unable to walk.

As a result, he would enjoy the ride as well, providing for your needs in the manner that was expected of him. When they showed your picture, he didn't really care about Vought and all that, but now he thought it would be fun because you seemed so eager to please him with that slutty, lovely fucking dress. 

You said, “How went?” as if he could respond, but it didn't feel strange for you to remain silent. If one of you stayed quiet the entire time, it would be odd.

Noir kept himself from talking and instead studied your body and outfit with fascination, which made you chuckle. As though you could see him, he turned out the lamp, and you didn't object, supposing it was just one of his insecure times. 

You sat on his lap and softly touched his covered face before responding with a whispered “Why the hell you didn't text me back for days?” in an attempt to sound like a mad woman. “You didn't behave like that before, you know.” 

Under his mask, Noir gave you a mischievous smile as his hands boldly stroked your body, growing harder every second as he saw your nipples peek from your thin dress, giving the impression that you wanted a quick and brutal fuck. 'Who would have thought that mission would be so hot and delightful?' he thought as his gloved hand squeezed your hips until you nearly moaned with pain. He was touching your pussy firmly and passionately, making it wet. 

You removed the stupid plastic item covering his cock with your hands and began slowly grinding against his clothed shaft while moaning, “You're such a turn-on today? Did you really miss fucking me that much?”

Noir gulped down, and as you kept continuing to moan and gasp loudly, one of his hands tightly pinched your tits. “Did you miss filling me with your hot seed into my pussy? When you finally texted me back today, I fingered myself while thinking about your huge cock.”

The filth flowing from your lips made him extremely hard, and once he filled up your dress, he gave your ass a hard spank. 

You groaned in protest when he abruptly lifted you off his lap. He forced you to your knees before you could say anything, gripping your hair firmly as he struggled to get his cock out of his suit. He stretched his legs and drew your head toward himself while you were kneeling in front of him on the edge of the bed. You were taken aback by his sudden harshness and passion because you had never sucked him off before. Maybe the fact that you hadn't fucked in weeks was the reason he was feeling so kinky this evening.

Excitement filled your body as you waited for him to finally reveal his cock. Before you could even say anything, he pushed your head against his cock, forcing you to suck him. 

Noir made a determined attempt to stop himself from giving you orders to properly suck him off and wet his dick as your tongue quickly lapped the tip of his shaft. As you gave him a head, he grabbed one of your hands and put it on his cock, urging you to use your hands. 

“You're so thick, you know, it's hard to take it all,” you remarked as you placed your hands on his balls and sucked the sensitive head of his thick cock. “You taste so good.”

Noir let out a soft and low chuckle as you did your best to satisfy him and make him cum. You were such a good cocksucker it was disappointing he couldn't give you any compliments. He smiled thinking about how would your boyfriend respond seeing you sucking a stranger’s cock so eagerly.

When you swallowed his head, he moaned angrily, as you were only able to take half of his cock. He took hold of your hair and began giving you hard pushes until your nose touched his pubic hair. 

When he began to fuck your face, you attempted to pull away as his hands applied heavy pressure to your head until the tip of his cock touched your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks. He was always extremely particular about being clean and well-groomed, so when you saw he didn't shave, you were somewhat taken aback. He made you take up every inch of his hardness, pushed your head into his balls, and waited till you tapped his legs in an attempt to regain your breath. 

After he finally released your head a bit, you muttered, “You're extremely rough tonight.”

Even though he was harsh, you were so attracted to his behavior that you began to suck him the way he preferred, taking his entire shaft and rubbing his balls, wetting them with your saliva.

You pushed yourself to get him to cum in your mouth as soon as you sensed him getting closer.

You teased him, “Where do you want to cum?” as you continued to stroke his throbbing erection.

Noir slowly withdrew his cock from your lips, stilled your head, and began to fuck into your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock on your tongue so you could taste its salty essence. He was savoring the facial expressions you made and your sensual groans, and he growled with pleasure as he thought he was fucking real Black Noir's girlfriend's mouth and he was about to fuck his girlfriend's pussy. 

He removed his cock from your mouth and stroked your lips and cheeks with his cock while holding it as if he were fucking your face. After some time, he stopped wanting to cum in your mouth or on your face. 

When you attempted to put him in your mouth again, he growled in disapproval and threw you into the bed while trying to help you get up. With a swift and forceful motion that left you gasping in dismay, he forced your face against the mattress and tore off your underwear quickly. 

Although you weren't prepared for him to behave in this manner, you waited for him to lead you in the direction he wanted since you were eager to please him and you were already turned on by him. 

Noir stretched your legs apart and checked the intensity of the wetness by sticking two fingers inside your pussy. He groaned in satisfaction as he saw that you had already gotten wet, and he removed his meaty fingers with ease. 

You let out a loud cry and pushed him to move more quickly as he roughed you with his fingers. You let out a cry of pleasure as soon as you began to clench around his fingers. Once your climax subsided, he pulled you more into the sheets, thinking that this would be the time when he would finally turn you back and act a little more romantically. You let him have his fun, figuring he wanted to play hard this evening. 

Noir played with your clit from behind, taking his throbbing manhood into his fingers and giving himself short, rapid strokes. Upon realizing that you were anticipating his fuck with your legs apart, he gasped with delight. 

Breathless, you gasped as he began to press his shaft into your wetness. His gloved hands gripped your hips firmly as he began a quick and violent fuck. His big balls were slamming into your clit, producing obscene noises that filled the room. 

You were gasping out and raising your hips to meet his strong thrusts as Noir's hardness throbbed into your pussy. He pounded into you with powerful strokes, gripping your hair and pulling it while you clutched the sheets beneath your fingers under his instense fuck. 

You whined, “Fuck, you are so good,” your eyes welling up with tears due to the intensity of the moment. “Fuck me harder.” 

Under the mask, Noir grinned at your filthy actions and the way you urged a total stranger to give you more fucking, like a whore. He began fucking you from behind even more forcefully after pulling off your hair. You were screaming like a bitch in heat, and you had no idea that you were fucking a stranger. He thought you were a free chick for him to enjoy himself to the fullest. He would count himself fortunate.

Sensing his approaching closeness, he moved slightly and reached your sweet spot, giving you multiple orgasms before spilling inside of you. Your legs trembled wildly as you clamped around his cock after he found your sensitive spot and gave you an aggressive fuck there. Your pussy felt so sensitive that you tapped his legs to get him to slow down, but instead he fucked you even harder and struck the same area repeatedly, leaving you speechless. 

“Fuck, Noir,” was the only thing you could say. “It feels sensitive.” 

But instead of slowing down, he continued to fuck you through your climax until he made you cum on his cock once more. Your legs were shaking, and you were screaming his name in between endless orgasms. He was forcing himself not to laugh out loud while you kept orgasming under a stranger.

He pushed all of his length into your pussy and began spilling himself into you as he continued to fuck you after he decided you had come on his cock enough. You again clenched around his cock as his thick white ropes filled your insides. When he felt your pussy continued to clench around his shaft with eagerness, and he moaned with satisfaction. It seemed to him that you were a needy one, and he would be thrilled to give what you needed.

Your legs continued to shake as you felt his thick seed leaking out of your pussy, and you grinned and bit your lip, satisfied. You felt a deep sense of satisfaction, and you had no idea that you could get so many orgasms so quickly. Noir did give you a hard fuck during certain times, but that was the first time he used such force on you and ignored your boundaries, of which you were glad. You felt that he ought to have revealed more of his personality sooner. 

Noir met your tongue, palmed your pussy from behind, and put his weight on your back. He pulled his mask halfway to give you a firm kiss, you realized.

You gasped in horror as his lips found your ear, and he whispered into the darkness, “Not bad, darling.”

[zepskies]

LOST ON YOU || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who's the predator, and who is prey.

Song Inspo: “Lost on You” by the Cubaneros (originally by LP)

AN: Oh, here we go! Get ready for another Boys AU. And in the immortal words of Cher, we're actually turning back time, to the '80s, no less.

Series Tags/Warnings: **18+ only! It's the world of The Boys, so angsty and messy, with morally gray and downright charcoal characters, including Soldier Boy, of course (and even the reader herself). **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, drug use, and other chapter-specific tags.

Chapters:

Part 1: Siren Song

Part 2: Foolish Game

Part 3: A Deal is a Deal

Part 4: Better Shape Up

Part 5: Eminence Front

Part 6: Drowned and Spellbound

Part 7: Welcome to the Jungle

Part 8: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Part 9: Free to Be You and Me

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Part 11: Heroes and Monsters

Part 12: A Fire in the Blood

Epilogue: As Good as It Gets

Series complete!

🎙️ Listen while you read:

The Lost on You Playlist: YouTube || Spotify

Lost on You Playlist Posters

"Interrupt the flow, they better not dare..."

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Join My Patreon 🌟

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @lifeonawhim @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

GOLDEN CHILD ;; In which Vought has a golden child, a favorite supe, you.

01.02.25 Masterlist

Vought International, the sprawling media company at the heart of the supes industry, has always had its fair share of complicated public relations. Among the chaos of corporate manipulation, cutthroat competition, and celebrity-driven antics, there exists one rare gem: you, the anomaly that everyone gravitates toward.

While The Seven are the face of the company, you're the heart. Unlike the usual supes, who thrive on attention, egos, and self-promotion, you stay humble. You don’t seek the spotlight, but somehow, it always finds you.

It's this small nature that has made you Vought's golden child, a supe who actually listens, who calms the storm, and who doesn't take advantage of the power that comes with their abilities.

Vought's PR team loves you. You’re the odd-one-out to the egos and drama of The Seven. When things go south—whether it's a superhuman scandal, a PR nightmare, or an emotional breakdown from one of the higher-profile supes—Vought knows they can count on you to smooth things over.

There’s something disarming about your presence. You’re unassuming, never in the limelight, but somehow, you’re always there when people need you most. You’ve built up an almost mythical reputation within Vought: the supe who never seeks fame, who isn’t out for personal gain, and who consistently treats everyone with respect, no matter their status.

Ashley, Vought’s PR powerhouse, quickly latched onto you as her personal security blanket. Her world is chaotic, managing the egos of The Seven while trying to keep things from falling apart behind the scenes. But when you're around, there’s a sense of relief that washes over her. She relies on you more than she lets on.

Whenever the tempers of the more volatile supes flare, she’s the first to ask, "Where’s [Name]? Where are they?" She knows that the room feels calmer with you in it. Everyone listens to you because you're realistic and honest. Unlike the others, you don't play the game, you just show up and let your sincerity do the work.

Homelander, despite his bravado and his towering presence, can't help but find himself drawn to you. He convinces himself that he dislikes you—after all, you're not chasing after him or pandering to his inflated ego like the rest of The Seven. You’re refreshingly indifferent to his attempts at asserting dominance, and that irks him to no end.

You don’t fear him, but you also don’t try to be his friend. You’re just… there. And that’s what frustrates him: he can’t control you. It gets to him in a way that he can’t quite explain, making your interactions all the more tense. You don’t need to try to please him, and yet you’re oddly one of the few people he can’t ignore.

Then there's Black Noir. The silent, enigma of a supe who often walks through Vought like a shadow, avoiding interactions with most people due to his fearsome presence.

But with you, it’s different. You don't flinch at his silence. In fact, you make an effort to acknowledge him every time, regardless of his lack of response. You don’t treat him like a ticking time bomb or an unpredictable enigma, but simply as someone whose presence deserves acknowledgment.

This small act of recognition is something that no one else offers, and it creates a subtle, unspoken connection between you two. While others may nervously sidestep Black Noir, you're the one who will offer a simple gesture or conversation (regardless of verbal responses), even if it’s just a quiet stroll through the Vought halls. You’ve made it clear that his silence doesn’t deter you—it’s a comfort to him in a world where everyone else is on edge.

Queen Maeve, ever the stoic and reserved one, has also come to appreciate you. She knows what it’s like to be jaded by the system, to be disillusioned by the fame and the constant PR stunts. In you, she sees the only other supe who isn’t corrupted by the industry's shallow demands.

While Maeve may hold some skepticism about everyone else in the Vought family, she finds herself respecting you. You're one of the few remaining who genuinely believes in being a force for good. It’s rare in Vought—someone who can still hold onto a moral compass without being consumed by the machine. She’s glad that you’re around, if only to be the grounding force that keeps everything from completely spiraling out of control.

In a world that’s so often about appearances and self-interest, you stand as a quiet contrast. You aren’t trying to fix the system, but by just being yourself, you somehow manage to be the glue that holds everything together.

And for all the madness of Vought, you are the calm within the storm, the one person who everyone, no matter their reputation, turns to when things get too intense. You are, in many ways, the heart of Vought—even if you never asked for it.

A/N ;; Yeah this was very self-indulgent.. EL OH EL.

[squipedmew]

A redesign of my original Black Mask Haru design from my p5 fanfic series! (Her Persona is a secret ;P)

[syrma-sensei]

Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: In the early 80s

Warnings/Tags: angst, PTSD, psychological themes, smut, sexual abuse (not Ben), Ben's foul mouth, misogyny, racism, power imbalance, power abuse, blackmailing, antiquated mentality...

Summary: Soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

Chapters:

★ Chapter One: Tenderly.

★ Chapter Two: A New Window.

★ Chapter Three: Mirrors.

★ Chapter Four: Unmasked.

★ Chapter Five: A Man's Property.

★ Chapter Six: The New Famous Couple.

★ Chapter Seven: The Scandal Date.

★ Chapter Eight: Broken Hearts.

★ Chapter Nine: Never Say Goodbye.

★ Final Chapter: coming soon.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @prurose

@leavli, @robertthehoover, @soldiergrimes, @vanessa-boo, @uddiifiigj

@ratkidcalledallie...

[dollerinna]

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.

─────────────────

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.

-------☆-------

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

-------☆-------

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

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

BLACK NOIR wants you overstimulated and fucked out. When you’re as mute as he is, he calls it a win. Any choked, quiet sounds that emit from your mouth is a fucking symphony to his ears because he knows you’re too stupid to think of anything else to say.

When you’re clutching onto the sheets, drooling all over the covers from your gaping mouth suspended in mind-numbing pleasure while he rails you from behind; when you bury your little face into the mattress to scream, louder with each thrust, as he steadies you with a glove on your tailbone: He knows he’s got you. You’re his.

He picks up his foot to settle it on the edge of the bed, standing behind you tucked between your legs, plowing into you from an angle a few degrees difference and you’re fucking writhing. The sensational friction is all too much to bear, the wet chorus of your pussy nearly as loud as your mewling. He presses down on the dimples of your backside, yanking you back onto his cock, only to bounce your ass on his hips with the force of his push. He’s fucking juggling you on him, and all you can do is bang your fist against the mattress to release some of that energy.

You wish you could tell him that it’s so much, almost too much. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head while your cunt’s being bullied into submission. Fat cock drives into your insides with reckless abandon and it hurts in such a good way. A warning hand reaches behind you, signaling him to slow down.

But he knows if you really wanted him to slow down, you wouldn’t be laying down taking it like the slut you are.

[celestialh4ven]

Fucktoy

Currently gripping my sheets

summary: smut

pairing: Miguel O’hara x Fem!Reader x Spider Noir

cw : smut, double penetration, took a trip to POUND TOWN, dirty talk, praise.

wc: 908

Not proofread!

masterlist

—————————————————————————————

It’s dark and rainy here in New York. The city is bustling with citizens going about with their day now that Spider-Man— er Spider-Mans (Spider Noir and Miguel) and Woman (aka you) have saved the day yet again! Being Spider-Woman was not easy, and it didn’t get any easier when two incredibly hot Spider-Men came falling from the sky into your universe. At that point, you didn’t care enough to question why, and eventually, you three became a team, fighting bad guys together as people stared, confused at why one guy was completely black and white. You three never really got along, well, more like you didn’t get along with them.

They were super hard-headed and destructive when fighting, but because of that, the battles were relatively short. You prioritized fighting in a way that hardly damaged the city or its civilians, though the fights took much longer. They would always tease you about it, and you hated them for it. In fact, you hated them, period. Well, that's what you would usually tell yourself.

But now look at you.

Miguel’s face in between your thighs, and Peter’s dick hitting the very back of your throat. How did you get into this situation? You had no clue and you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was getting out all the stress you accumulated from being Spider-Woman, and what better way to do that than a threesome?

You pulled your head back to catch your breath, drool still connecting you and Peter’s now completely erect dick. “Wanna feel… the both of you inside me…” Your words shocked the two men, they originally planned to take turns with you so your words stunned them a bit, but who were they to complain?

“Alright then” Peter nodded “ Whaddya say, I take the front you take the back?” Peter said looking down and Miguel who continued to devour you down there.

“Fine by me,” Miguel replied. Soon you found yourself sandwiched between them, Peter positioned himself on top of you, while Miguel positioned himself underneath. With no warning, they both slid inside of you, it was very easy to do so since you were dripping wet.

“Fuck….” You moaned, “Feeling good darling?” Noir asked grinning. You were about to respond until, “Now what would people think if they knew how their lovely Spider-Woman was getting dicked down like this huh?” Miguel interrupted. You felt embarrassed at his words and hid you face in Peter’s chest, “Shut up Miguel and just start moving…” Miguel wasted no time and started to thrust into you and Peter follower suit.

“Fucckkkk….” You moaned again.

You couldn’t lie, this felt so good. You could feel them both stretching you out, it almost felt like you were about to rip in half. “Feels so good…” you moaned out. “Yeah, I know it does baby…” Peter grunted. “Joder, estás tan apretado…fuck…” Miguel groaned as he thrusted up faster inside you. “Oh, FUCK!” You exclaimed “k…keep doing just that….” “Will do” Miguel replied.

Peter was more on the romantic side, constantly building up as he went, so while Miguel was pounding up into you from the back, he was teasing your nipples with his tongue and pacing his thrusts, so the more intense he got the faster his thrusts would get.

“You look stunning like this,” Peter said as he pulled you in closer for a kiss. You felt like you were on cloud nine, with the two of them just having their way with you and you not being able to do anything but take it.

“You’re being such a good girl, you deserve a reward, no?” Peter asked and you just nod your head as drool starting to form at the edge of your lip. Soon enough, Peter quickened his pace to that of Miguel’s. Now they were both pounding into you. Nothing but moans, groans and grunts could be heard in your tiny little apartment.

“Fuck. Te gusta ser follada así, ¿eh?“ Miguel grunted into your ear. “Chicas cachondas como tú amas ser follada por dos hombres eh?” You responded with nothing but a moan. “Respóndeme muñeca.” He said as his fangs grazed your now sensitive neck. “Y…yes I like being fucked by the two of you…” you breathed out.

“You’re torturing the poor girl, Miguel,” Peter chucked.

You felt something rise in your belly, you were getting close.

“M’ gonna cum…” you said with a whisper

“Hmm? What’s that darling” Peter asked

“M’ gonna…fuck…I’m…cu…” you didn’t get to finish speaking before you came gushing all over the both of them. Wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the bed.

The men both pause for a second

“Would y’a look at that…” Peter groaned “Never took you for a squirter,”

You were gone at that point, eyes rolled back, legs given up, and arms wrapped around Peter’s neck hanging on for dear life.

The men both looked at each other, then nodded. And soon enough they starting thrusting again, this time, much more synchronized.

“It’s no fun that only you get to have you release, now is it?” Peter whispered into your ear. “We’re not stopping until we fuck you full love, okay?”

And that is exactly what they did.

[justreblogginfics]

These Black Noir fics are incredible! Liv, you write so amazingly and brilliantly! 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Your take on Noir is so so SO GOOD, I just love how you write him in every single one of these! In anticipation for the next season (sad for it because of this character but excited for new ones!), my love for him has been reignited for sure and these all just really amplify that. ☺️

“Love Language” is my favorite 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Black Noir Masterlist

One-Shots

(*) = smut

Later (*)

A hidden encounter is almost ruined.

Love Language

How does Noir show his love?

An Omen (To Everyone but Me) (*)

Noir shows up in your home unannounced.

Uncommon Intimacy (*)

While Noir is gone, your phone's provide a space to connect.

Nightingale (*) teaser

Your first public event together.

◆

◆

◆

[am-3-thyst]

someone… please… feed me more black noir x reader content 💔 i’ve read it all

[thesilmarillionblog]

INSTANT CRUSH

Summary: Black Noir wants you to locate and investigate another supe one day while you are working for Vought. You stalk him to Herogasm just after injecting yourself with Temp-V.

Pairing: Black Noir / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), smut, stalking, awkward Black Noir, dirty talk (one sided obviously), rough Black Noir, choking, multiple orgasms, masked man kink, freak matching, herogasm

Word Count: 2836

A/N: English is not my first language.

⋆ Black Noir - The Boys (TV) Season 1-3 𓆩♡𓆪

It was hard work working for Vought, but it was even harder to ignore a black-suited, masked man whose voice and face you didn't even know.

Sadly, you had a small job in Vought and never really got to see any of the Seven in the daytime; they were all too busy saving America. However, one of them—the masked, voiceless, and faceless man who wandered around like a ghost—captured your attention from the moment you started working there months ago. Perhaps it was your masked man kink, or perhaps Black Noir was the perfect man in your imagination—quiet, mysterious, and unquestionably a walking red flag. However you were color blind anyway and it made him a green flag. He was so good for you.

In this sense, you couldn't dispute that you were also a strange one. Before you saw Noir, in fact, you had no idea that you would be attracted to that kind of man. Even though he had a menacing appearance with his black outfit and small, sharp blades covering his back, you thought it was sweet that he was communicating via paper. You should be alarmed by all of that because he appe

Thankfully, Black Noir came to your aid in the middle of the night when you were given directions to assist him in finding other supers tonight. You wished there were two of you instead of the few individuals in the room with you. It could provide you with a tiny boost in confidence.ared to be a dangerous one. But it did nothing more than arouse you.

“How can I help you, sir?” You attempted to look amused as you inquired, but he sat there doing nothing as you were sitting there in your chair, tapping on the keyboard. You pulled your hands to your sides and waited for him to show you his papers again. You smiled as he lifted the cold lime from your desk and brought the pipe to his mouth. He looked so adorable that all you wanted to do was kiss him until he died away and suffocate him in your own juice.

Your gaze met the plastic object between his knees; you could have easily put it in your mouth because of how near he was. If there was no one else in the room, you were absolutely certain that you would do it without second thought. It was exhausting to get lost in fantasies about him. 

All you wanted was for him to know that you were always up for an office fuck. You knew he could have murdered you in an instant, but you also knew that, at least in the back of your mind, he kind of liked your daring attitude around him. You felt the pull between you. Women always knew. 

You kept your mouth open while you awaited a response. He tilted his head, and you could almost hear him chuckling. And then, slowly, he turned you back to the television and gave you a piece of paper in your hands while gently placing his gloved fingers behind your head. 

You weren't sure if the reason your heart was beating so quickly was because you were frightened he would break your neck or fuck your lips. You were certain, though, that your underwear was as wet as the ocean. Your face reddened as you lost yourself in euphoric fantasies about him and his outfit. 

“You want me to locate that supe, sir?” When you asked for confirmation, he nodded quickly. 

While tracking the unfortunate supe, you also decided to stalk Black Noir when you learned that the supe you were looking for was having fun at Herogasm, a yearly perv party for supes. You were quite fortunate in some way. You felt that Herogasm would be a pleasant way to pass the time at that point. Stealing the Temp-V in his private room months earlier, you waited to use it until the perfect

You took a day off and left Vought Tower, following Noir to the Herogasm, just after pretending like you had suddenly become ill and needed some rest. You felt incredibly bold injecting yourself with Temp-V for the first time in your life because you knew you had one shot and he couldn't hurt you anymore. Oh, fuck. It was definitely something else.

Before you knocked on the door and saw twins, you had to endure waiting outside for five minutes. 

You stumbled and felt a little nervous, saying, “I'm here to... enjoy Herogasm,” and hoped there wasn't a password to get inside.

The woman remarked, “I haven't seen you before,” examining your short outfit and raising an eyebrow in a suspicious manner. 

“Why? I'm here to get raw-fucked. I suck dicks so nice; get them clean, yummy, like a bitch in heat,” you said with an uneasy laugh as you looked them in the eye. “I'm the number one member of Herogasm.”

The man remarked, “I don't forget a raw fucked bitch whenever I watch one,” but his twin immediately gave him an arm punch. 

“Can you stop being a disgusting animal for once?” She asked him angrily.

You practically begged, “Come on, will you take me in? I'm about to die horny right here.”

Finally letting you in, the man muttered, “Fine,” and stepped aside. 

Of course, you weren't expecting something as awful as that. There was undoubtedly no God there because the way things looked was completely weird, featuring supes with hideous dics, naked supe women moaning loudly, and more.

You had to ignore certain supes who were trying to touch you while searching for Black Noir so as not to draw notice from them. Today, you only wanted to fuck one of them.

When you realized he was missing, you quickly started going through each room one by one because you were afraid he would kill the supe, complete his mission, and flee from Herogasm. You soon came into contact with his menacing black suit after opening a door. Noir was choking the supe beneath him with both hands. With no effort, he could have easily killed the Supe, but instead he relished pushing him insane, making him look more pathetic and causing unnecessary agony before his death. God alone knew who had worse mental health issues.

With your hand on the door handle and Noir's head immediately turning to the side, you uttered, “Oh god,” in disbelief. As he choked the man and continued staring at you, your heart raced with both excitement and dread. You offered him an inviting stare and could smell his excited scent.

Temp-V gave you a greater understanding of his facial expressions and smell, which increased your sense of confidence. You kept staring at the insane, mask-wearing sick as he slowly murdered the supe beneath him, and he was undoubtedly hard as an iron beneath his suit.

You both waited for a while, breathing heavily, until Noir acknowledged the man was dead. Then he moved in your direction, and you knew right then that if you allowed him to touch you, he would fuck you. But after giving Noir an encouraging glance and indicating that he would follow you wherever, you exited the room since you didn't want to get fucked raw in a room with a dead body. 

You looked for a room first; you didn't care if he fucked you in front of all those people or in a private room at that precise moment. You would let him use you wherever and however he pleased if you were unable to find one. 

Noir was just behind you when you two entered the room, and you gently shoved him toward the bed without allowing him to take control. Behind his suit, he showed toughness and confidence, but you wanted to be in charge for a brief period of time to drive him insane.

Saying, “Fucking finally,” you forced him to sit while straddling his thigh.

Noir noticed you weren't even wearing underwear, so he quickly lifted your dress up and gasped deeply.

“Why is it so fucking hard to find and fuck you, sir?” As you removed the stupid plastic object from between his legs and placed your hands behind his head, attempting to meet his eyes through the mask's mirror, you murmered. With your lips parted in ecstasy, you began to rub your pussy against his dressed dick. 

“I fucking injected myself some Temp-V just to make you fuck me properly.” You smiled as pleasure caused your pussy to get damp. “I've imagined this moment, getting railed by you for so long; it feels ethereal to be here right now, on top of you.”

He took a deep breath, and at last his gloved hands reached your hips, stopping you. He slammed your back into the bed while groaning in protest, and he instantly jumped on top of you. 

As you widened your legs and he unzipped his pants to reveal his huge, veiny cock, you teased, “So you're in a hurry, right?” He kept staring at your swollen pussy while giving himself brief pumpings to his massive cock, and you licked your lips. 

Rather than entering inside of you, he ascended above you and repeatedly struck your lips and cheeks with his giant cock. You refused to part your lips and let his cock get in just to torture and make him go crazy. Noir lost all patience and became enraged as his cock throbbed with pain. He violently split your lips with his cock and shoved all the way down your throat in one thrust.

You moaned more when he moved on you and began to rapidly fuck your throat. Because of the way his big balls made obscene noises on your chin and dominated your mouth, you were turned on even more. You put one hand against his leg and started to touch your clit with the other. 

Noir started panting ferociously and slamming his balls into your chin and throat harder. He dreamed of this very moment, of you making you go lower in front of him, between his knees this morning, and fucking your face in the office. He had smelled your cunt's arousal, so he knew you clearly longed for a hard, deep fuck.

Noir was aware that you would have permitted him to do whatever he pleased, regardless of whether you were being watched by others, in a busy office, or in a more private setting. You were always ready to get fucked by him. 

You could feel him approaching closer and about to spill on your throat while you stroked your clit more vigorously. In an attempt to satisfy him and get him to fill your mouth with his spent, you began to use your tongue as much as you could. 

You wanted to use your hands to help Noir cum in your mouth, but he pushed your hands away. 

You pleaded with him, “Come on,” opening your mouth as you watched him panting fiercely and stroking his massive cock with gloved hands against your face. “Fill my mouth with your cum.” 

Noir, however, disregarded your pleadings because he didn't want to cum in your mouth at that precise moment. It's unfortunate that he wasn't able to tell you that you were a wonderful cumslut whom he could fuck and spill himself. He knew he ought to have slipped into you sooner. But from now on, he was going to see to it that you spent his spent however he pleased. He would make you his cocksucker. 

He began to come on your face with his thick, white ropes and let out a deep moan as you orgasmed beneath your own hands. Noir took several minutes to completely spill himself into your face, causing your legs to quiver with delight. His spent paint was all on your face. Still, he was as hard as a rock, which must be a special supe thing. 

Noir chuckled when he saw your face covered in his sperm and he split your shaking legs, giving you a single, rough thrust that left you speechless. 

You groaned beneath him as he began to penetrate you quickly and deeply, asking, “You love that, right? Do you enjoy looking at my cum-covered face while you fuck me? Wanna spill yourself inside my pussy? Would you just watch me wander around, full of your cum?”

His movements sped as you continued to talk dirty, and he gave you a quick nod. Afterwards, he slightly moved over you and placed his hands on your face, palming his own spent. Noir, who was panting like a beast, took some of his sperm and put it in your mouth so you could taste him. 

“You look like a shy one, but in fact, you're a beast, huh?” You let out a loud groan as you sucked his gloved fingers and swallowed his cum. “I don't even know your face or voice, and that fucking turns me on so much.”

Noir began to fuck you harder and wrapped his hand around your neck, strangling you as you clutched around his thick cock. He was so pleased with the way you had spoken to him. Your legs were shaking with pleasure as he continued to fuck you senselessly, like a beast, and his firm hands around your neck were making it harder for you to scream. 

“You sick fuck, it feels sensitive; be careful. Slow down a little bit,” you cried out as he thrust you in the way of another orgasm, repeatedly hitting your G-spot as your body trembled wildly from one orgasm to the next. “Fuck. Come inside me already.”

But Noir wasn't happy with the way you spoke to him, so he quickly took his dick out and turned you, pressing your face against the sheets. This time, you moaned loudly as he smashed the back of your neck against the sheets and began thrusting quickly and deeply inside of you. He appeared to be difficult to get to cum. It was obvious he was a fine fuck. Always fear the shy ones.

You were turned on even further as he squeezed his fingers around your hips so hard that you heard him gasp softly beneath his mask. You tried to pull away from his harsh grip on your neck by holding onto his wrist, but he wasn't impressed. Eventually, he let you go, and you let out a loud cry till your throat hurt. 

His strong thrusts and the several orgasms he gave you made your pussy feel extremely sensitive, so you tightened around his big cock as much as you could. Not that you were whining, but whenever the effects of Temp-V subsided, you knew it would hurt like hell. 

Following a few brief but forceful thrusts, he tightened his hold around your hips and began to release his thick white ropes inside your pussy while releasing a loud groan. You would have believed it would take several minutes because he was taking so long to empty himself while he came inside of you. 

When he softened and you were both gasping for air and attempting to regain your breath, Noir drew away from you. 

Once you turned to face him at last, you saw that he was looking at your pussy and his spent, leaking to your legs. You place his cum back inside your pussy and spread your legs out in front of him on the bed. You knew he liked it very much. 

As you played with your clit and watched him tucking himself inside his suit with heavy breaths, you talked playfully, “I knew you would be a beast. It was a fine conversation.” 

He chuckled at your word choice and helped you stand up and tenderly adjust your clothing. 

You asked, “Can we leave now?” and he nodded quickly. 

Without a doubt, you will take another Temp-V soon. 

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Sorry, I was high writing this. You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

Taglist: @anundyingfidelity @believeinthefireflies95

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 

Fucking show off, Ben thought. 

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 

You seemed to be mysterious. 

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.   

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy. 

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 

It had never been about you. 

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 

Soldier Boy, that asshole. 

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

This tag list is closed. If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

TRANSLATOR ;; One secret in Vought was that Black Noir had a interpretor of sorts, someone who understood him. Said person is the one everyone finds to figure out what Noir wants.

01.01.25 Masterlist

The breakroom at Vought Tower was as sterile as ever, filled with tense employees who were more interested in avoiding the Seven than socializing. But when Black Noir entered, the energy shifted. His silent presence was enough to command attention. No one dared to make eye contact except for one person sitting near the vending machines.

You glanced up from your cup of tea and gave him a small nod. "You're early today."

Noir paused, standing tall in front of you, head tilting slightly. He didn't need words to communicate. You knew him better than anyone else in this building. It was an odd position to be in, but somehow, you'd become Noir's unofficial interpreter. It started with simple observations—learning the way his shoulders tensed when he was displeased, the particular way he acted when he was hungry. Now, you were the only one who could translate his intent with certainty.

"You need something?" you asked, watching as Noir's head turned towards the vending machine. A small, nearly imperceptible gesture. "Ah. Orange juice. Got it."

You stood up, inserted a few bills, and punched in the code for his favorite morning beverge. The machine clunked, and you retrieved it, placing it in his gloved hand. Noir gave a slight, approving nod.

"You know, you could ask the others for this stuff," you teased, but the idea was laughable. The rest of the Seven tiptoed around Noir like he was a landmine waiting to explode. Homelander barely acknowledged him. Queen Maeve kept her distance. The Deep avoided him altogether. A-Train didn't like his silence. No one liked his silence, it felt like they were being surveillance.

When Noir wanted something, they all sought you out.

It wasn't just about vending machine snacks and drinks. Sometimes, Vought executives cornered you after meetings. "Hey, can you check with Noir? We need to know if he's on board with the new PR stunt." Or, "Ask Noir if he can make that appearance at the gala." You would dutifully track him down, translate his silent answers, and relay them back. No one questioned why he trusted you. They were simply relieved you existed.

"You want to stick around for a bit?" you asked, gesturing to the empty chair beside you, ignoring all the peering eyes of your coworkers. Noir hesitated but eventually sat down, carefully unwrapping his straw in front of you.

You sipped your tea and watched him. It was strange, this partnership. Noir was an enigma wrapped in layers of leather and silence. But around you, he seemed…normal, almost. Comfortable.

"You know, I think they imagine we have secret conversations about world domination or something," you said with a smirk. "Like you're telling me all of Vought's secrets."

Noir glanced at you. You felt that he was enjoying that idea.

A few moments of silence passed before the door to the breakroom swung open, everyone grew silent as Ashley strode in, tablet in hand. She froze when she saw Noir sitting there, and then her eyes locked onto you like a lifeline.

Noir didn't look at her, instead he kept his gaze on you. He found it was the most comfortable, considering everyone felt as though he was a silent stalker of sorts.

"Oh, thank God. Hey, could you—?" Ashley gestured awkwardly at Noir. "We need him to sign off on the new action figure design. Could you just… you know, check?"

You sighed. "He's sitting right there, Ashley."

"Yeah, I just… You have a better way with him. Please?" She smiled nervously.

You turned to Noir. "What do you think? New action figure?"

Noir stayed still for a moment before slowly tilting his head to his left.

"He said it's fine."

"Great! Thank you!" She nearly sprinted out of the room.

You shook your head, "They act like you're going to rip their heads off."

Noir shrugged. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. It was part of the mystery.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while longer until Noir finished his drink. He stood up, giving you a parting nod before heading for the door. Just before he left, he paused, glanced over his shoulder, and held up his hand in a small wave.

"See you tomorrow," you responded.

It wasn't a flashy friendship. There were no dramatic moments, no heart-to-hearts. But in the sterile, cold environment of Vought Tower, your quiet partnership with Black Noir was one of the few genuine connections you had. And for some reason, that was enough to keep the both of you sane.

ᵉᵃᵗᵐʸʰᵉᵃʳᵗᵒᵘᵗ