Deadly Silence ||Black Noir x Reader||

Chapter 5

The mission was underway, and Black Noir was in his element. He was the epitome of stealth. His movements were fluid and silent, each step calculated to avoid detection. Noir's proficiency in handling the dirty work was on full display as he dealt with the mess, his actions both ruthless and efficient.

He navigated the scene with the expertise of a seasoned ninja, his skill with a blade and his ability to blend into the darkness making him nearly invisible. Every movement was deliberate, every strike executed with brutal efficiency.

Meanwhile, Y/N was out with The Deep, trying to get some insights for her piece. They were walking through one of the quieter areas of the complex, and she decided to share a bit of what had been on her mind.

"So, I had this weird interaction with Black Noir the other day," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I mean, the guy's so silent it's kind of awkward in a cute way."

The Deep looked at her, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "You think Noir is cute? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Y/N frowned, a bit taken aback. "What? Why?"

The Deep leaned in, his tone serious. "Noir isn't cute. He's a fucking manic killer. He's silent because he's mute, not because he's shy or anything. The guy's a killing machine. He gets off on violence—it's what makes him tick."

Y/N blinked, processing the new information. "Wait, really? I thought—"

"Trust me," The Deep interrupted, shaking his head. "Killing is his thing. It's what gets him hard and horny. He's not some misunderstood hero. He's a psycho who loves the thrill of the hunt. You're better off staying the hell away from him."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "Well, that's definitely not the vibe I got, but..."

"Yeah, well, it's the truth," The Deep said, his tone firm. "Noir's not someone you want to mess with. He's all about the dark stuff—literally and figuratively."

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to wrap her head around the new perspective. The Deep's bluntness had given her a harsher understanding of Black Noir, one that contrasted sharply with her initial impression.

As the mission continued, Black Noir's work was done with the same deadly efficiency. Noir's actions, though hidden in the shadows, were a representation of the darker side of Vought's operations.

The rain fell relentlessly, soaking the streets and creating a glistening sheen on the city's pavement. Y/N stood at the curb, desperately trying to flag down a cab. The cold droplets mixed with her frustration as each passing cab ignored her. She glanced around, the dim streetlights casting long shadows across the wet pavement.

Just as she was about to give up, a figure emerged from the gloom. A robber, his face obscured by a hood, approached with a menacing grin. "Hey, lady," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "Hand over your purse, and nobody gets hurt."

Y/N's heart raced, but she quickly steeled herself. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not giving you anything."

The robber sneered, stepping closer. But Y/N wasn't backing down. With a swift move, she sidestepped his advance and launched a powerful kick to his midsection. The robber stumbled, surprised by her skill. Y/N followed up with a precise punch that sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious. After all she was an agent, a highly trained one too.

Black Noir had been watching from the shadows on a rooftop across the street. He had just finished his mission, and the sight of Y/N's confrontation with the robber had piqued his interest. He watched intently as she dispatched the attacker with remarkable efficiency.

Impressive, Noir thought, his mind racing. How does a journalist director fight like that?

His curiosity was piqued. There was something off about Y/N's smooth, professional handling of the situation. He had seen enough to know that her skills weren't just a fluke. Noir's instincts told him there was more to her than met the eye. Was he being paranoid, or was there something genuinely noteworthy about her?

As Y/N walked away from the scene, she brushed off the rain and continued on her way. Noir, always silent and hidden, followed her carefully from the shadows. He maintained a safe distance, ensuring he remained undetected.

Y/N arrived at her penthouse, exhausted but unscathed. She entered her building, unaware of the silent observer who kept to the shadows. Noir's keen eyes followed every move she made, studying her with a mixture of suspicion and intrigue. He watched as she entered her apartment, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Black Noir remained in the shadows on a rooftop of the building close by, watching through the window, his mind racing with thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than just a journalist. He decided to keep a close watch on her, determined to uncover the truth. For now, he was content to remain in the shadows, observing her every move from afar.