Deadly Silence ||Black Noir x Reader||

Chapter 39

Later that night, Noir was alone in his penthouse at Vought, thinking over everything that had happened. The darkness of his room matched the darkness in his thoughts. He couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind—her pleading eyes, the way she looked so scared yet defiant.

A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He wasn't expecting anyone. Noir hesitated for a moment before moving silently to the door. When he opened it, he was shocked to see Y/N standing there, drenched in desperation.

What the fuck was she doing here? This was beyond risky, beyond stupid. Noir's eyes narrowed, and without a word, he slammed the door shut in her face. He leaned against it, trying to make sense of her being there. But then he heard her voice—pleading, almost frantic.

"Please, Noir, let me in! I need to talk to you!" she begged from the other side of the door.

Fuck. Noir's resolve wavered. Against his better judgment, he yanked the door open and roughly grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into the room before slamming the door behind her. He spun her around, pointing to his head as if to say, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I know this is wrong. I shouldn't be here, but I can't be at peace knowing you could tell anyone at any moment. And... and you're mad at me, which feels even worse because now you're ignoring me."

Noir was stunned by her words. So, she did care? That didn't make things better; it made them worse. He was angry, angry that she'd put him in this situation, angry that she'd made him care.

He grabbed his notebook and scrawled a quick message: "Why did you have to be a traitor?"

Y/N looked at the words, guilt flashing across her face. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Noir couldn't take it. He started pacing around the room, his mind racing with the danger they were both in. He wrote something else and tossed the notebook at her. "If Homelander finds out I knew too, I'm dead."

Y/N let out a small, sarcastic laugh, her voice laced with bitterness. "Well, we're both fucked, aren't we?"

Noir wasn't in the mood for jokes. He clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. In a sudden burst of anger, he threw the notebook to the floor and stormed toward her. Y/N backed up, trying to push him away, but he was too strong. He grabbed her wrists, holding them tightly as she struggled against him.

"Let me go!" she shouted, trying to break free. She fought back with everything she had, finally managing to free one of her wrists. Without thinking, she slapped him hard across the face.

Noir didn't move for a moment, his face still turned to the side from the impact. Slowly, he turned his head back to her, his eyes dark and intense. The tension between them was crazy, crackling with anger and something else, definitely sexual. It was a mix of fury and desire, a potent combination that neither of them could ignore.

For a moment, they just stood there, breathing heavily, eyes locked. Noir's grip on her wrist tightened, and he pulled her closer, his body pressed against hers.

Y/N's heart was racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw power in his body. 

Noir's hand moved to her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he held her against him. His breath was hot on her neck, and she could feel the tension in his muscles, the struggle he was going through to hold himself back.

"Fuck," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/N moved  her hands to his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his suit.

Noir rolled up his mask just a bit, his breath was hot against her neck as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her skin. Y/N's heart raced, and she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. But she couldn't stop herself. She didn't want to.

Their lips met in an aggressive, desperate kiss, and the world around them seemed to disappear. Y/N's hands roamed over his body, pulling him closer, while Noir's grip on her waist tightened. He pushed her back against the wall, his body pressing against hers, and she could feel the tension in every muscle.

For a moment, it was as if nothing else mattered. The danger, the lies, the betrayal—all of it faded away as they gave in to the heat between them. 

Y/N stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of the man beneath the mask, and then she kissed him again, her lips moving over his with a mix of hunger and desperation. Noir's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin he could reach.

But as the intensity of the moment grew, so did the reality of their situation. Noir's mind raced, the guilt and anger bubbling up inside him. He was supposed to kill her, to end this threat, but here he was, losing control, letting his emotions get the better of him.

In a sudden burst of self-control, he pulled away, his chest heaving with the effort to regain control. Y/N looked up at him.

She stood there, her heart racing, eyes locked with Noir's. She knew this was wrong, all of it, but she couldn't help herself.

No, not today, enough cock-blocking, she thought to herself.

She grabbed his arm, and yanked him toward her. Noir didn't resist. In fact, he seemed almost stunned by her sudden boldness.

"Fuck it," she whispered, more to herself than to him. Then, without giving it another thought, she grabbed his face and pulled him into a rough kiss.

Noir froze for a split second, surprised, but then he responded, matching her intensity. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, the kiss turning into something more than just anger or frustration. It was a release, a way to express everything neither of them could say out loud.

They stumbled, crashing into the wall, then the edge of a table, but neither cared. Y/N's hands were everywhere, tugging at his suit, needing to feel him, needing to be closer. Noir's grip tightened as he lifted her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.

They barely made it into the bedroom, crashing against the doorframe before Noir pushed it open with his shoulder. Y/N pulled away just long enough to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she looked up at him. But the need between them was too strong. She didn't care about anything else right now.

Without another word, she pulled him back into another kiss, rougher this time, more desperate. Noir responded, his hands moving to tear at her clothes, pulling them off. She did the same, yanking at his suit, trying to get closer, trying to feel more.

It was messy, it was raw, and it was exactly what they both needed. The world outside didn't matter.

A/N~ ANGRY SEX!???????!!!!!!???