Deadly Silence ||Black Noir x Reader||

Chapter 24

The next day rolled around, and Y/N still didn't show up to the office. Noir couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault. He wasn't one to dwell on things, but this was different. He'd crossed a line, and now she was avoiding him—or at least that's how it seemed.

But Noir wasn't the type to just sit around and wait. He'd given her a day, and that was more than enough. That night, just before midnight, he made his decision. He was going to pay her a visit.

Breaking into her place was easy; it always was. But when he got inside, he noticed something—she wasn't home. He felt something he couldn't quite place. Concern? Frustration? Whatever it was, it wasn't something he liked.

Noir wandered into her bedroom. He could've searched the whole house, but he chose to stick to her room. It felt more personal, and strangely enough, that's what he wanted—something personal, something that felt connected to her.

As he moved around the room, he noticed the small details. She had a thing for lilies. Some of her jewelry had lily designs, and there were hand-drawn sketches of the flowers scattered around. Noir wasn't one to care much about these things, but he found himself noticing each little detail, trying to understand her better.

Just then, he heard the front door open. Noir froze, listening as she came in. She was back. He moved quickly, deciding to sit in the armchair across from the door. If she was going to avoid him, she was in for a surprise.

Y/N walked into the bedroom, tired, carrying a bag of groceries. As she flicked on the lights, she screamed, immediately reaching into her bag for the pocket knife.

But it wasn't some intruder—it was Noir, sitting casually in the armchair, as if he belonged there.

Y/N's hand froze mid-air, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "What the fuck, Noir?" she finally managed to say, lowering the knife but keeping it in her grip.

He didn't move, didn't say a word—just watched her, his expression hidden behind his mask, but his presence unmistakably heavy in the room.

Y/N's heart was pounding, and she knew Noir could hear it. She felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn't expected. "You can't just... show up like this," she said, her voice shaky, still trying to process his sudden appearance.

But he just sat there, unmoving, his eyes on her. He noticed the way she clenched the knife, the slight tremble in her hand, and how she was trying to pull herself together despite her obvious fear.

"And how the fuck! Do you know where I live?" She was confused.

Well, Noir had been stalking her long enough and broken into her house... a couple of times to know exactly where she lives.

But she didn't know that. (wink)

Black Noir stood up, as he began walking toward her. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, instinctively moving back as he closed the space between them. Before she knew it, her back hit the wall. Noir was right in front of her now, inches away, towering over her.

The eye contact between them was intense. Y/N felt her pulse quicken, but she refused to let him see any fear. She wasn't scared of him—at least, that's what she kept telling herself. She pressed the blade to his throat, her hand steady as she looked him in the eyes. "Get back," she ordered, her voice firm.

But Noir didn't flinch. In a flash, he took the blade out of her hand, his grip strong as he pinned her to the wall. The cold knife pressed against her cheek, gliding down slowly. Y/N felt her skin tingle under the blade, a shiver running down her spine. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his breathing changed. This was turning him on.

Instead of fear, a chuckle escaped her lips. "You won't do it," she said, her voice low and taunting. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was struggling with his emotions. She knew she was tempting him, pushing his limits, and that knowledge only made her bolder.

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against the edge of his mask as she whispered in his ear, "Come on, Noir. You're here to finish the job, right? Kill me. Go on."

His grip on the knife tightened, and she could feel his body tense even more. Her words were like gasoline on a fire, igniting something within him. Noir was silent, but she could feel the intensity radiating off him.

But she knew—deep down, she knew—he wouldn't do it. She wasn't just some target to him anymore. This wasn't about Vought, about missions, or orders. This was something else entirely. Something more complicated, more dangerous. And she was walking a fine line between pushing him too far and keeping him close enough to play this game.

Noir stared at her. But she wasn't scared. Not anymore. She wasn't just some damsel in distress; she was in this as deep as he was, and if they were going to play this game, she was damn well going to play to win.

They both had a job to get done.