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#Earving x reader
a-small-safe-place · 6 months
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Soft!Yandere Black Noir w/ Spouse!Reader
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You and Earving had shared your lives for many years, forging a bond that had withstood even the disfigurement caused by Soldier Boy. Your love had persisted through the darkest of times. Before Black Noir’s transformation, you two had been inseparable, and even as his appearance changed, your commitment to each other remained unwavering.
When the scars from Soldier Boy’s cruel act marred Black Noir’s once-handsome face, he feared that you might abandon him. He went to great lengths to conceal the disfigurement, even in the intimate moments you shared. However, his sudden withdrawal and the cessation of communication did not escape your notice. With concern etched across your face, you gently implored, “Please, Earving, tell me what’s wrong. Why won’t you speak to me or remove your mask?”
Black Noir shook his head, refusing to divulge his inner turmoil. He adored you deeply, and the thought of losing you was unbearable. He was willing to resort to any means to prevent your departure, even if it meant resorting to physical measures. You were his world, his anchor in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.
After persistent persuasion, you finally persuaded him to unveil his masked face. The sight of the burnt half of his visage and his milky eye bulging from its socket was almost too much for you to bear. He noticed your distress and hastily replaced his mask, shaking his head as if to say, “No, no, it’s still me. I’m not frightening. Please don’t abandon me.”
Tears streamed down your face as you asked, “Soldier Boy did this?” In response, he nodded, clutching your arms tightly, ensuring you couldn’t escape his grip even if you attempted to flee. You bestowed upon him a tender, loving smile and inquired, “Were you afraid to tell me?” Black Noir nodded slowly. His fear of losing you, regardless of the extent of his disfigurement, was overwhelming.
In a surprising move, you gently lifted his mask and planted a soft kiss on the burnt part of his mouth. This gesture sent Black Noir’s heart into a flutter, and his knees nearly gave way under the weight of his emotions. He yearned to express his love at that moment but couldn’t. Instead, he fashioned his hands into the shape of a heart, conveying his feelings. You understood his unspoken message and reciprocated, your actions concealed beneath his mask, causing him to blush.
Now, the two of you are united in marriage. Black Noir has provided you with a home specially designed for your comfort and privacy, a sanctuary away from those who might covet you, such as The Deep or Homelander. Black Noir relishes the moments spent at home with you, where he can remove his mask and relish in your reassuring words that you love him. In the safety of your private haven, you belong entirely to him, and he has the privilege of taking care of you.
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apocalypse-shuffle · 3 months
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BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)
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“Promotion” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)
| Being Black Noir’s new handler and him becoming obsessed with you since Mr. Edgar himself assigned you to him.
| SFW, vought employee!reader, (TW: Noir is kind of stalking the Reader, who’s uncomfortable but adapting mostly)
| 1k+ words
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“You want me to…what?”
“Be Noir’s new personal handler.” He fans his hands out on the table with a shrug and gives you a disarming smile. “You’ll be expected to parlay direct mission instructions from me, accompany him to said missions and stay with the deployment team. I expect you to give written reports on his performance at the end of every day, active mission or not…”
Your eyes continue to widen as his barrage keeps going. This job would require you to be present for everything short of Noir wiping his ass and even then you’ll be outside the restroom.
Mr. Edgar finishes, gives you an expectant look, and you clear your throat.
“And, what if I don’t want the new position?”
“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs, “I mean unless you don’t think you’re good enough for the promotion. Then I suppose I’ll just have to tell Ashley her recommendation was for naught.”
You laugh.
“No no, that’s fine. There’s no need to tell her anything…” you gulp, watching the man just look back at you before taking a second more to inhale, “…ex-cept that her recommendation payed off.”
He tilts his head and it feels like his eyes are boring through your own, boiling your brain to mush. Your voice is small as you push the rest of your words out in one exhale.
“And that I’ll be starting my new position tomorrow. Sir.”
You stretch a smile across your face and hiss out a sigh of relief as that finally gets the man to respond.
He instantly reanimates, reaching atop his desk to hand you a secure black portfolio made from hard plastic.
“That’s great. I’m glad you decided to take on this new journey, Ms. L/n. May it serve you well. Have a good day.”
You don’t dare drop your smile as you take the offered portfolio and shove it under your arm.
“Right.” You take a moment to mourn the loss of your old job before nodding, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. You have a good day as well.”
The older man nods back at you, attention immediately gone back to his computer monitor afterward. You blow out air from your nose and then turn on your heels.
It’s not until you’ve left the board room that it hits you.
“Shit.”
The man had just played you. Goddamn Edgar and his resoluteness. Once he’d decided to “ask” you about the upgrade in position he never intended for it to be an actual request.
You rub your temple and head to the restroom. At least you had the rest of the hours in the day before tackling your new job.
You hunker down in the stall after peeing to look over the papers Mr. Edgar gave you. As you're skimming through a whole lot of shit marked “classified” or “redacted” you have the stray thought to be glad that Translucent’s creep ass wasn’t here to ogle you and be all in your business anymore.
Thank the higher power for small mercies, you suppose.
All the snippets of information you're gathering are kind of baffling. Legal name: Earving (of all things), biological male, six foot two, African-American (that’s fun; may be the reason he took such a liking to you too, not many black people made it to the top floors of Vought after all). You dog-ear a packet about some sort of imaginary animals he sees in his mind before looking over a page about a severe peanut allergy. Hmm.
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By the end of the day you’ve nearly gotten all the way through Noir’s portfolio, and you’ve also worked up an itch to get out of your skin that means you’re not working overtime worth a goddamn.
At six o’clock on the dot all of your crap is already quite thoroughly packed, your former workspace - barren thing that it already was due to regulations - was cleaned out and ready for the next poor soul, and you’re in the elevator heading for the sub-level garage.
Dead stare locked onto the floor numbers you become acutely aware of the bags weighing your eyes down.
“Fuck,” you sigh.
Black Noir's Personal Handler.
Despite Mr. Edgar’s clear efforts it was more than a little known open secret that personal handlers rarely got to retire. Madelyn Stillwell’s death might’ve been something none of you dared discuss for fear of either Edgar or - heaven forbid - Homelander catching wind and putting you back in your place, but it was a pattern of the job that you all were well aware of.
Though you’d take Mr. Edgar’s culling over whatever Homelander could possibly come up with.
Something about his blonde, blue-eyed, ass didn’t sit right with your spirit.
Far as PR and wrangling went though, short of maybe Starlight, any wrinkles Black Noir managed to make would be the easiest to smooth out.
Plus, even with you and Noir having some form of a pre-established relationship it was in no way dependent or built upon you being Noir’s emotional epicenter like Madelyn and Homelander’s weird…dynamic was.
You had seen and heard far too much in your years working for Vought to think for a second that there wasn’t something dark and twisted going on with The Seven, but Noir still seemed mellow in comparison to the rest and their constant ego trips and dick measuring.
You had zero clue how letting the fully covered man teach you a few notes to a song at the Christmas party when everyone was drunk off eggnog and watered down booze and sitting with him when he was crying on the floor once led you to this.
Sure the silent man and you had somewhat hit it off - so far as you were one of the few non-supers he didn’t intimidate or just flat out ignore - but to be made so intimately in charge of him seemed like a bit much.
Noir had seemed endlessly patient with you as he played for you and then eventually decided he’d teach you how to play the piano yourself, the sides of your bodies’ shifting incrementally until you were pressed flush to one another in both of yous concentration, so you could really only hope he kept that same levelness with you as his handler.
You bank the corner, work bag and portfolio on the same arm, and fish out your keys so you can unlock your trunk and shove your shit inside.
Hope truly was the name of the game here unfortunately. You could only hope Noir kept up his “good” streak, and that that streak wasn’t just a farce that you were now in charge of covering up. Hope that he didn’t end up getting angry or reckless and making you one of those *redacted* cases with a ‘cause of death, unknown’ attached to your name, because you could do nothing to stop him if he wanted to kill you.
Shiver racking up your spine and turning your blood to static, you snap your trunk closed, turning to leave when—
“—Fucking Christ!”
Eyes gone wide and spit having nearly choked you from your sharp inhalation before your exclamation, you do your best to appear composed as Black Noir himself steps out from a conclave of shadows to stand in front of you.
The Devil, you find yourself thinking. Had he been following you this whole time?
For his part Noir doesn’t move aside from cocking his head to the side.
Steadily, you force calmness onto yourself. Ignoring that your voice is too high when you call his name.
“Black Noir,” you say, trying to seep the professionalism back into your tone while smoothing down the creases in your pantsuit, “surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”
The smile you offer him feels wonky even as you command the muscles up, but it’s the best you can do with your heart hammering against your chest as if it wants to run off and leave you behind.
For a couple more beats the man doesn’t do more than size you up presumably before finally - as you were weighing the pros and cons of just getting in your car despite his presence - raising a hand to point at your trunk.
You catch on to his meaning fairly quickly, your smile dropping to something more natural whilst you huff a tiny laugh.
“Oh yeah, guess Mr. Edgar must’ve told you. I’m your new handler - you know, if you had one before that is. I don’t…actually know…” you trail off, shifting on your heels when Noir only continues to keep his stillness.
“Mhm,” you mutter, rocking backwards, just staring until finally Noir shifts and there’s suddenly a pad and pen in his hand.
He flips casually to a clear page before starting to write and you’re fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever actually ‘talked’ to you.
Huh.
Not long after does the pad get flipped over and brandished to you. You click your teeth together.
‘Edgar says you’ll do good,’ he scribbles, writing absolute chicken scratch and letters far too large on the medium sized pages, before flipping the pad back to himself and writing some more.
‘Believe in you!’ and a whole bunch of smiley faces is what meets you once he lets you see.
You blink. Noir puts the pad back wherever he had it initially to give you two thumbs up.
You muster a slightly bigger half smile for his efforts.
“Thanks Noir,” you say, words more sincere than you’d been expecting.
A nod and an eternity more of silence and staring is what he gives you in response.
You’re getting ready to shift, to awkwardly relay that you’d like to be getting home soon, when Noir stiffens suddenly - and isn’t that startling, a man so tall and so strapped with sharp explosive deadly things going so alert like that - head tilting like he’s listening for something.
A few seconds go by like that where he doesn’t do anything else and you fight to keep yourself still, smile gone and part of your lip caught firmly between your teeth.
Then Noir’s giving you a nod and leaving just as silently and unseenly as he had come.
You wait another two-three beats before scrambling into your car. The sound of your lock engaging sounds like salvation and the steering wheel feels like a lifeline as you grip it with stiff nearly foreign fingers.
God.
You force a deep breath into your lungs, make sure it comes out more steadily than it came in.
At least Mr. Edgar didn’t dump you onto Homelander’s lap. Something in you shrivels up and dies at the mere prospect. You nod, your hands flexing on the steering wheel.
This was definitely better.
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!
This is a semi companion story to “Pandora’s Melody” if you’d like to check that one out as well.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!
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ebonyslasher · 2 years
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Cuteness Overload
Just something short and sweet I cooked up. I hope to have more out for him soon. He’s constantly been on my mind heavy since episode 7. No spoilers of course!
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On this episode of The Boys: Wholesome Edition, Black Noir meets the new super cute hero!reader that just joined the Seven! Are those hearts and arrows we see? Let’s cue the romantic music and find out- tune in!
When Black Noir first laid eyes on you, the cartoonish romance music instantly played in his head.
You're…….so cute. He couldn't believe it.
Your eyes- he could see the whole universe in them. Adorably shaped nose, full kissable lips, glowing brown skin, just everything is just soo…
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Not trying to undermine you and your abilities, but no matter how strong you are he always finds you adorable.
From when you'd give a small smile
To your emotionless resting bitch face
To even that downright life ending stare you have when you're angry 
Now. Earving takes your emotions seriously and respectfully. It's just….he just…melts whenever he sees you. Even his cartoon friends give a little sigh as you walk by. 
His favorite expression of yours is when you're happy and giving a wonderful smile
Second most favorite? When you're concentrating. Hnnnnnnnghhhh, so cute ❤️
Buster Beaver tries to encourage him to make a move
" You just g-g-gOtta talk to them. Tell them that you think they are g-g-gorgeous Earving!"
All the other characters give enthusiastic nods and thumbs up~
Maybe he's right….well Buster always is. His friends have never led him astray before. Black Noir can be pretty shy when it comes to romance. He's awkward and inexperienced in that field.
He just has to build up the courage to try.
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mlmxreader · 2 years
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Don't Touch What Doesn't Belong To You | Black Noir x gn!reader
Anonymous asked: "I'm sorry, is there a reason you're flirting with my boyfriend?" and “C’mon, you love me, really.” With Black noir?
summary: Noir has to fight tooth and nail to be able to take you to public events, but as much as he does love to have you there, he can’t deny that he does also have a slight jealous streak when it comes to certain people. 
tws: jealousy, swearing 
word count: 1114
Noir wasn’t the jealous type for no reason, he wasn’t jealous and possessive simply because he wanted to be or because he felt any particular kind of claim over you, no, if anything he was only jealous and only possessive if and when he had to be. And that, if he was honest, was rare; it always came as a surprise when Noir got jealous, but it was always towards the same two suspects. Homelander and Deep. When those two so much as looked your way, Noir was pulling you as close as he possibly could, sometimes even daring to lift up his mask so that his mouth was exposed, giving him the opportunity to bite and kiss at your neck, claiming you as his; but then the second they left, he was going back to being gentle with you again, soft touches and tender mumbles, even daring to laugh a little at your silly jokes and to let you slip one hand under his mask so that you could give him an earbud and let him listen to whatever it was you were playing. It was like a switch had gone off, and he suddenly became an entirely different person.
Often, if you were Vought events, such as premiers, he had to fight tooth and nail to bring you along with him; squabbling with Ashley over emails until she eventually caved and told him to fuck off. She didn’t like you, she never did, she didn’t think that you were marketable enough, she didn’t think that some nobody was good enough to be putting in the magazines and the papers and on television; she didn’t like you, and she made it very well known - but even she had to obey orders given to her by Stan Edgar, and when Noir went running to him about letting you be his date to those events, not even Ashley could say no, as much as she really wanted to. She couldn’t stand it, knowing that she would have to allow you to go, and would complain and grumble at you the entire time that you were there if you ever crossed her path. 
While attending one such event, though, you had left Noir for all of ten minutes so that you could go and chat to Maeve about something that you had been meaning to bring up with her, when you noticed that a photographer had gotten a little bit too close to Noir; you clenched your jaw, excusing yourself with a shake of the head before daring to walk over, taking Noir’s arm in yours as you smiled forcibly at them. 
“I’m sorry, is there a reason you’re flirting with my boyfriend? Or do you blush and hold the biceps of every Supe you come across?” 
The photographer swallowed thickly, opening their mouth to speak but then closing it again, eyes wide as they watched Noir sneak his arm around you to pull you closer, pressing his forehead against your neck. Admittedly, they did regret flirting with him, and they frowned as they sighed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 
“You are goddamn right it will not. Now, jog on,” you grinned, not even getting your moment in glory of seeing them run away with their tail between their legs as Noir dragged you behind one of the big promotional posters, lifting up his mask just enough to expose his mouth. 
He hooked his arms around your neck while you cradled his face in your hands, pulling him closer and grinning when he finally kissed you; it was harsh and desperate and you could feel the desperation in how he had you, you could tell that he was struggling so hard to keep himself held back and to not kiss you like that on the red carpet; he couldn’t do that just yet, the one thing that he couldn’t yet get anyone to agree to, letting him kiss his own damn significant other. He pulled away, pulling his mask down and grumbling quietly, pressing his forehead against yours gently, not wanting to accidentally knock you with his tough helmet. 
You smiled, daring to slowly and softly trace his jaw, a soft hum coming from the back of your throat. “I love you so goddamn much.” 
Noir nodded, pulling away completely and offering you his hand, giving it a little swing as he walked back out with you; he paused, posing for a picture with you and quite happily, quite smugly, holding up the hand that was holding yours as he waved. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he could see Homelander approaching, instinctively stepping a little front of you, getting between you and his teammate as he clenched his jaw tightly. 
“(y/n)!” Homelander called, putting on a happy and friendly face if only for the pictures. If only because looking like he was nice to you, a normal person, made him look good. “Hi!” 
He went to hug you, arms outstretched and a terrifyingly convincing grin on his face, but Noir stopped him, putting his hand on his chest and shaking his head slowly; a mere warning, and Homelander seemed to get the hint, backing up and showing his gloved palms. 
“Thank you,” you muttered in Noir’s ear, prompting him to nod a little as he stared at Homelander. “Can we, uh, can we go stand with A Train and Annie? Please?”
Noir pulled out his phone, daring to type a little message to the supposed leader of the Seven, trying not to ask so smug beneath his mask as he showed him the screen. 
“Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.” 
“Noir,” you grumbled, pulling at his arm a little. “Noir, can we go over there, now, please?”
Again, Noir nodded, shoving Homelander aside as he guided you over to the quieter and more private little area where A Train and Starlight were standing; you sighed heavily, relief flooding you, as you put your arm around him and stayed close to his side. He pulled his phone out again, showing you the screen after he had typed out his little message. 
“Fucking Homelander should know you don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you…” 
“I really do love you, so fucking much, y’know,” you told him, grinning as you dared to kiss the nose part of his mask. He recoiled a little, a soft growl coming from the back of his throat as he shook his head slowly. “C’mon, you love me, really.” 
He started to type on his phone again. 
“I don’t doubt that. It was cute 2 see you jealous earlier, tho”
“Yeah?” You mused, raising a brow. 
“Yeah <3”
if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG
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callsigncrash · 2 years
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Black Noir x Supe Reader
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You threw off your visor and slid down the wall, crying as you did. You’d been out with Homelander and Noir on some Vought ordered mission that had led to a considerable loss. You just couldn’t take it anymore. Homelander’s stupid rationalization and demeaning comments all while you crumbled inside.
Noir quickly walked down the hall to you and kneeled down in front of you, cocking his head to the side, questioning you.
“Oh god… I…I can’t take it anymore!”
Your voice cracks and you bow your head, sobs getting louder. Noir felt terrible that he didn’t know what to do.
He hated seeing you so upset. He only ever told Bucky and his friend about how he felt about you. He was trying his damndest to think of what to do to help you, to let you know he loves and cares about you and how you feel. Eventually, with the help of the little birds, he decided he could only do one thing. Maybe you’d stop crying, maybe you wouldn’t, but he had to try.
He carefully held your face in his hands and he took a deep breath. He quickly pressed his masked lips to yours. He started to pull back as you hiccuped from your tears before you held him close to you.
Nothing was said but your tiny smile and the tears stopping reassured him and his friends that this was a good idea.
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annaberunoyume · 2 years
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The Boys (Black Noir x Reader Imagines) (SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3)
What if Black Noir took you to the old Buster Beaver place somewhere before he tries to go kill Soldier Boy and you both dance and goof up to some Harry Belafonte songs?
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Tarde a la iglesia.
[Versión en español]
Advertencia: Ninguna, solo hay esponjosidad, amor y cariño, disfrútalo, aunque sea algo corto.
Contenido: Esponjoso, Black Noir, cariño, apodos lindos.
Resumen: Te encuentras alistándote para ir a la iglesia con tu super pareja, pero este no deja de interrumpirte.
No hay tanto diálogo como quisiera, pero me gusto como me quedo, espero que les guste, lamento la tardanza.
Por el momento está en español, pero pronto estará en inglés.
No podía dejar de verme en el espejo mientras arreglaba mi cabello para ir la iglesia a la cual Earving y yo vamos todos los domingos desde hace 2 años.
Al principio estaba sorprendida de que Vought le dirá los domingos libres por todo lo que hace el pobre. Noir piensa que es una especia de agradecimiento de ellos, lo cual dudas porque son unos hijos de perra, pero también agradeces, era el único día que tenía para desierta forma relajarse.
 Hoy, como todos los domingos habidos y por haber no podías arreglarte tranquila, ya que don precisión no dejaba de apurarte con una nueva página de papel que siempre decía ¿ya estás lista?, llegaremos tarde, ¿te falta demasiado?, cuando apenas era las 7 de la mañana y el padre no empezaba la predicación hasta las 9.
No sabias como habían llegado a ser pareja, demonios, ni siquiera sabias como llegaron a conocerse, él es súper y no solo un súper, formaba parte de los grandes 7, que eras tú, ¿un súper?, no, ¿una periodista?, no, una trabajadora de Vought, para nada, solo eras una chica latina tratando duras penas de sobrevivir en Estados Unidos.
Black noir era la persona con más trabajo en los 7, apenas tenía tiempo en su vida privada, pero la pregunta aquí es, ¿cómo un súper y tú llevan 3 años de noviazgo?, no lo sabías y tampoco te preocupaba la respuesta, solo sabias que en cualquier momento ibas a explotar.
Escuchas como mueve el pie exasperado por como según él tardas en alistarte.
Podrías detenerte, son las 7 de la mañana Earving, no llegaremos tarde- lo último lo digo haciendo comillas con los dedos.
Veo como toma su libreta y escribe.- lo haremos si no terminas de cambiarte.
Lo haremos si no dejas de molestarme e interrumpirme.- atacas.
Molesto ves como se a cuesta en la cama que compartís y se voltea para no verte.
Tranquila por fin sigues con tu trabajo, mientras por el espejo ves como poco a poco su respiración se va relajando hasta quedarse dormido.
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Una hora y media después.
Acomode bien mis senos para que no se vieran raros con mi vestido Muy bien estoy lista-
Earving ... Earving ... Amor, despierta, ya son las 8:00, debemos irnos- Trataba de moverlo poco para no molestarlo al despertar
Poco a poco veías como se despierta y bosteza.
Sabía cuanto lo calentaba cuando hablaba en mi idioma por lo que subí un poco su máscara y comencé a besar su cuello - Mi amorcito es hora de despertar, si no te levantas tendré que ir yo sola y pensar que me arregle solo para ti.
Veo como sonríe mientras me ve, con su mano izquierda toma mi rostro y me besa con tanta pasión, mientras que con su mano derecha agarra mi cintura con tanto amor.
De la nada veo como Earving se detiene, toma su libreta y escribe.
Es suficiente bebe, tenemos que irnos y recuerda nada de sexo antes del matrimonio.
Me levanto riendo, arreglo lo desordenado del vestido y mi cabello, le contesto - ¿Te recuerdo quien me amontono en la cama? 
Nada como molestar a un pobre cristiano en un santo domingo, mientras camino sensualmente hacia la puerta para luego voltearme y levantar lentamente el vestido del lado de mi pierna derecha.
Veo como se levanta de la cama de un salto y comienza a correr hacia mi dirección, por lo que yo corro directo al auto mientras me suelto en carcajadas.
Cuando llego a la puerta ya me ha alcanzado, me toma de la cintura para luego voltearme, brinco y él me sostiene solo para que yo envuelva mis piernas en su cadera, comenzamos a dar vueltas y vueltas riéndonos como desquiciados.
Sabíamos que volveríamos a llegar tarde a la iglesia, pero valía la pena como todos los domingos y días que pasan.
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luckytiggertalia · 7 months
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Named, but Nameless
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1.2k homelander x reader, sfw, fluff, headcanons about his birth name, a canon conversation between my oc and homelander written in an x reader format, she/her reader
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Gaining such a strong connection with another human, after Madelyn, was something Homelander was convinced would never happen again nor would he ever try again. The fragility of human life and the strength of a supe never mixed well. Like water and oil, so close and yet always separate. Life and love didn't care about that, though. Life and love were the reciprocating shakers, vibrating and agitating the oil and water until they were as incorporated as possible. 
His couch was the shaker, and his knee was doing the shaking, bouncing up and down in rhythmic thumps. The foreign feeling of tightness in his chest overwhelmed him. He was a God. Why the hell was he feeling all these human emotions? What reason did he have to be so anxious? Beside him was nothing more than his mortal. He was stronger than her. He was braver than her. He could do anything and everything she couldn't. So why couldn't he respond to one simple question?
"Answer me.. please. Are you okay?" she said after concluding that he would stay silent. Her voice was laced with worry, with her brows knitted together. "Homelander?"
His supe name rolled off her tongue so deliciously, despite the name being admittedly bulky. Her voice carried that name through his every vein and artery, but the tightness in his chest remained. That was his name. He was Homelander. And yet, after gaining such a connection to her, the name felt… wrong. Perhaps it was the cliché of superheroes to have secret identities. Starlight had one, "Annie" they called her. Black Noir did, too, "Earving". Was his name worthy of being a secret identity?
"Homelander?" she repeated, speaking more sternly. She reached out to him, placing her hand over his bouncing knee, knowing all too well that she couldn't still it.
"John.." he said, his voice hushed.
"John?" she repeated.
Homelander grimaced, hearing her say it. This was a mistake. He said it too impulsively, and now it was too late to take it back. 
"J.. John. It's my birth name. Use it. If you want, I mean." The uncertainty in his voice made him sick. He sounded so pathetic, so unsure, so human. 
She didn't speak, instead just trying to read his expression. The silence sickened him. Was she judging him for his name? Was the name too simple or boring for her? He had never exactly told a partner his real name. They always seemed to just find out, whether by accident or by snooping. He had hoped being the one to tell this lover his name would feel liberating. Oh, how wrong he was. This felt suffocating. This felt like his identity was being forced upon him. This felt like that damned cage he was kept in as a child. John. John Doe. Named, but nameless. A science experiment with no sense of self. Only pain. Torment. Abuse. 
"Do you want me to call you that?" her voice rang out, presumably noticing how uncomfortably he stirred from her silence. 
He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Her knowing and using his assigned name was supposed to be the next step, and yet he wanted to say "no". Needed to say "no". 
"It's okay if you don't want me to, baby. I'm okay with just calling you Homelander."
His brow furrowed as he groaned, slamming his hands on the couch and forcing himself to his feet.
"No! No, you aren't… you aren't fucking getting it!" Homelander paced, his hand up near his mouth as he chewed on the leather of his crimson glove. "It isn't enough. 'Homelander' isn't enough! Everyone calls me that… Everyone uses that name. It's not special!" He hardly knew if he was making any sense to her. He wasn't even making any sense to himself. He knew he had no reason to get upset or frustrated because of something as trivial as a name, and yet he couldn't help it. He felt like a child. 
"Sweetheart, hey. It's alright. Let me try and understand, okay? Come here," she beckoned, arms opened and inviting. 
His teeth sunk harshly into the leather, his pacing slowing down as he glanced toward her. He stood still before going to reclaim his spot beside her, leaning into her warmth with his nose pressing into her neck. 
"Alright… So no 'John', and 'Homelander' isn't special enough. We could go with a nickname? I've used 'Homie' in the past. How about that one?"
The vibrations of her throat and the sound of her calmly beating heart soothed his unease. Always a problem solver, this one. The world would be damned if she ever couldn't find a solution to something.
"No… I like 'Homie', but it's still not special enough. I… I guess I want something more private. Just for us."
"Ah, I see." 
Silence again, but this time he knew she was just thinking. He didn't speak either, curious to see what his partner would come up with. She often surprised him with her ideas and suggestions and he hoped she would surprise him here, too. 
She broke the silence, "How about… Johnny? It is close to ‘John’, but far enough away to be special, and private, of course.”
The corner of his lip quirked in surprise. "Johnny?" he repeated, lifting his head off her shoulder. He had to fight back the smile forcing its way onto his lips. 
"Yeah! Johnny. I think it's cute, personally."
Homelander bit the inside of his cheek, averting his eyes all while turning his head away from her. That smile won and sat plastered across his lips. Hearing her say it again made a warmth blossom from his chest and spread to his every extremity. He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. It wasn't any spectacular nickname at all, rather common really, and yet it sat with him. The tightness and anxiety he had felt was quickly forgotten. 
"I mean, we can try it," he said with an attempt at sounding indifferent. He leaned back against the couch, head still turned away from her.
His response earned a small laugh from her, "We'll try it, then." He heard her leaning closer and saw her hand coming around out of his peripheral. Soft and tender, her hands held his face as if he were a fragile, porcelain doll. She turned his head to look at her, her eyes filled with nothing but affection and love for him. They stared deep into the blues of his own. Instinctively, his head leaned deeper into her hold, lips centimeters away from her palm.
"I love you, Johnny…" 
That…
It rolled off her tongue, her lips… It glided through the air like a feather. His eyes grew wider and softer, lips parting as he took it all in. Her voice echoed throughout his psyche. He latched onto the soundwaves, never wanting to forget how beautiful her words sounded. His mind felt numb and he felt a high he’d never experienced before. He felt lightheaded in the best way possible. All that combined with the softness and love in her eyes made him feel as if he would faint right in her arms. He leaned deeper into her touch, reaching a hand up to press hers harder into his cheek. He kissed her palm, lips smiling against her skin. 
I love you, Johnny…
"I love you too, my darling…"
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afro-hispwriter · 22 days
Text
The Diamond Queen: Homelander
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Homelander/John x reader(platonic), Soldier Boy/Ben x reader(mentioned, romantic), Reader x other female characters
Summary- You have a history with Homelander
Warnings- baby John, mentions of drug use, mentions of soldier boy's "death", herogasam, strap on sex, drug use, snorting of bodies, gxgxg, slight temperature play, more on readers' past
A/n- this is a prequel to Parts 1 and 2
Taglist for this series- @the-house-of-auditore-frye
-
Earving got placed in a medically induced coma after you returned from Nicaragua. They were worried he wouldn't pull through but his powers helped keep him alive. But Ben had destroyed him far beyond repair. You sat by his bed every day, crying.
It wasn't until Vogelbaum called for you. It took a bit of convincing but soon you were standing in front of his institute. It wasn't the first time you were there, you would be called occasionally when an out-of-control supe needed to be controlled or calmed down in their words. 
"I'm so glad you were able to come we know you're going through a lot with Noir and Soldier Boy. God Soldier Boy, hard to believe-." Vogelbaum started, 
"Just show me the supe." You cut off Vogelbaum and he frowned. You looked so drained of life, but who wouldn't? 
"Follow me." He led you through the facility and into the pediatric ward. It made you uneasy, controlling a child pained you. 
"A child?" 
"I know how much you hate it, I'm sorry." Another scientist was standing right in front of the door, making faces through the window. When he saw you approach he backed off and they let you look through the small window.
"Oh." A tiny baby, who could barely be a year old sat there all alone smiling and laughing as he held his blue blanket. "He's laughing, seems fine to me." You say not taking your eyes off of the baby. 
"That's why we called you, we think we have something here, but we need him to display his powers." 
"You want me to force a baby to use its power?"
"We'll pay you, double what you usually get." 
Money is money you thought and opened the door. You walked in and the giggling baby looked up at you with a big gummy smile.
"What's his name?" You asked Vogelbaum.
"John." 
"Hey, John." You say and sat down, crossing your legs. John crawled to you with his blanket in his hand, he grabbed your knees and used them to push himself onto your lap. "Oh hey." You grabbed him under his arms and held him tightly. As your hands touched his bare arms you felt a sudden electric shock between the two of you. Your eyes softened and you brushed his hair to the side. "Why do they have you locked up here? Hmm?"
He squealed and grabbed onto the hem of your shirt. His bright blue eyes stared right at you, instantly melting away any stress you had.
-
Since the day you met John, you visited him every day. You created a bond with the child. 
Vogelbaum watched the interactions every day as well. It fascinated him, the connection between you and your former fiancé's child was extraordinary. You didn't seem to know John was Ben's, and he'd like to keep it that way.
"Happy Birthday John, I got you some cake." In a singing voice as you carried a gift and a whole cake into the now 8-year-old's room.
"Thank you Y/n." John came up to you and instantly hugged you tightly. It was a very tight hug, any normal human would have been crushed. Ever since John started to display his powers you were there more. You calmed him down most of the time. As he did burn straight through one of the workers just the previous week. 
"Guess what flavor it is?" You say and set the cake down on the table.
"Vanilla!" 
"You got it!" You handed him the bag with his present and he sat on his head and instantly started ripping it open. 
"Cool! These are limited edition Payback figures!" 
"I know, luckily I know a few people." 
"You're the best." He hugged you again and out of the corner of his eyes a lit-up cake. It floated in front of him and he backed up. 
"Make a wish." John's eyes flicked up to you and back down to the cake. He thought for a moment and you made sure not to let your mind wander. He blew out the candle and you clapped your hands.
"Y/n?" 
"Hmm." 
"Can you watch the first Soldier Boy movie with me?" You knew you should've said no but John was giving you puppy dog eyes.
"Okay, sure."  
The two of you settled on his tiny bed eating cake. The entire movie John pointed stuff out, you tried to listen but every time Ben's face appeared you shut off. It wasn't until John shoved you hard that brought you back.
"Y/n? Are you okay?" 
"Y-Yeah sorry." Your voice broke a bit.
"I was asking if you ever met Soldier Boy. Since you know, Noir. Your brother worked with him." 
"Oh yeah, i-i met him a few times. He was everything the movies and the media made him out to be." 
"That's cool, do you think there will ever be another Soldier Boy?" You looked down at him and swallowed.
"I hope so, the world needs its superhero." 
You knew deep down that was Vought's plan. John has shown exceptional, dangerous power. Something that interested them heavily. 
"I wish I had your abilities, I hate mine. I hurt people." He says and his nose twitches. You set your plate down and wrapped an arm around him.
"I hate mine too, they aren't as fun as everyone thinks they are." John smiled at that.
"Just another thing we have in common."
-
It was the tenth anniversary of Ben's death(or disappearance). The world was celebrating their lost hero, mourning. 
Herogasm was mourning differently. You had never seen so many people fucking in one place. You have gone to herogasm quite a bit with Ben, but it was never this packed. 
Your nose burned as you snorted the white substance off the girl with fire abilities pretty pussy. While the girl with ice powers shoved her ice dick far up inside of you. You were high as a kite and loved it. The difference in temperature and the drug made your orgasm 10 times more intense than usual. 
"Fuck." You moaned out and lifted your head but got your face instantly shoved into the girl in front of you. She rocked herself harshly, moaning loudly as her clit ground against your nose. You opened your mouth as she came harshly, jerking her hips. 
"Thank you." She breathes out and the girl behind you pulled out making you whimper. 
"Want to have some more fun?" She kisses you should and you smile hazily.
"Another day." You say out of breath and flip yourself around. Both women stand up but before leaving they leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your lips before pulling away and turning to each other, pushing their lips together and you watch steam pour out from between them. 
"See you Y/n." You watched them leave to join whatever other group there was. You stood up and started searching for your clothes amongst the heap of them. 
You walked out of the house fully clothed, denying any advances or invitations on your way out. You even stole a bottle of tequila.
Fireworks popped in the distance. All for Soldier Boy.  They all acted like they fucking knew him. They knew Soldier Boy. You knew Ben. 
You sat on the wet ground, drowning the bottle of alcohol. You hadn't touched a bottle in years. Both alcohol and drugs.
When you first received the V and discovered what your abilities were. The voices were so loud. You couldn't control it, you couldn't shut them out or just focus on one mind. You were at a party and on the verge of tears of how sensitive you were when someone offered you a little bag of powder. It was your medicine until you finally learned to control it. Ben helped you control it, and he didn't even understand it. 
Ben was the one thing on your mind. It made you think of what your life could have been like if he were still alive. Would the world finally know who their beloved hero's love is? Would your relationship be accepted? Would you have had your wedding? Kids? Would he have retired? 
So many questions and no answers. But they made you think of John. You've known the boy for almost 10 years. He felt like your son. You watched him grow. You practically raised him. He could be your son. 
-
That's how you ended up in front of the institution. Eyes bloodshot. Could barely keep up. 
You opened the doors and walked right past the front nurse. She called you for saying visiting hours weren't until the next day but she got cut off by her neck snapping. You forced the security doors open and alarms started blaring around the building. 
Workers noticed you and immediately got out of your way. 
"Where's Vogelbaum?" You slurred at one and they shakily looked around, stammering over their words. 
"I'm right here." You whipped around and almost stumbled but caught yourself. "Seems like you're having a night, why don't we talk in my office." He points back behind him. 
"Don't bullshit me." You cocked your head to the aide and you were in his mind. He was nervous, everyone was. But Vogelbaums's mind was screaming something about a collar. "What collar?" 
"Y/n, don't. It's been a day for you, with Ben and his-." 
"I'm taking John with me, he-he deserves a good life."  You say and the scientist sighs.
"We can't let you do that." That made you laugh.
"Did you forget who I am? What I can do?" you simply closed your eyes and everyone in that hallway was under your control. "Bring me John." 3 people walked away like robots, while everyone else was frozen at attention. It wasn't long before John screamed your name down the hall.
"Y/n!" You turned around and immediately opened your arms. When he got closer he stopped. "Are you okay?" You probably looked terrible, horrifying to a child. 
"John is okay, I'm here to take you home. We can be a family." At the sound of family, John immediately perked up. 
"Really?"
"Yeah." He smiled brightly and ran into your arms.
"Can we leave now?" He whispered into your neck and you nodded.
"Right now." As you pulled apart Johns's eyes widened in shock.
"Watch out!" You turned around but it was too late. Someone in all black stood there holding a silver collar. Before you could react it got slammed on your neck and it locked. Your hands grabbed at it, trying to rip it off but to no avail. Suddenly John blasted the person with his heat vision, instantly killing them. 
Your control over everyone fell. You tried to activate your diamond form but nothing worked. 
"Fuck." You say and John kneels down next to you. "This shit won't let me use my powers. FUCK!" 
"We have to go." John cries.
"I know, I know." You say and feel your body slowly start to weaken. "What is- what is this doing to me?" You asked yourself and your eyes started to flutter close. 
"Gas them." Someone said and a can clatter next to you. You started coughing harshly and John dropped to his knees, coughing hard as well. You collapsed face first into the ground, slowly falling unconscious. 
-
Your eyes fluttered open and the blinding light was unbearable. 
"Fuck." You mumbled and slowly started to sit up. 
"Y/n, lay back down." A deep voice made its way to your ears.
"Mmm." You flopped on the bed and blinked rapidly to get used to your surroundings. You looked around and your eyes settled on the scientist you wished you could keep calling your friend. 
“You really fucked up.” You rolled your eyes.
“I'm leaving. With John, and you’re not going to stop me.” You say and in an attempt to control his, a shock triggered makes you scream. “What the fuck?” It made him chuckle. 
“You know Vought is so terrified of you that they had me create a contingency plan just for you. At first, it was Soldier Boy himself but then the two of you started getting involved so we had to turn to something different. Hell, I didn’t even think it was going to work. But here we are.” That’s when you felt the metal on your neck, you reached up and grabbed it but a tiny shock made you let it go. 
“What is this?”
“This is the device that won’t let you use your abilities, it weakens you, and if you try to use the. It seems powerful shocks, enough of them and we fry your brain. You’ll become a mindless zombie.” He stood from his chair and got close to your face. “Just like everyone you control.” You gave him a hard glare before looking away and swallowing.
“What do you want from me?”
“I need you to leave. Never come back. And don’t come looking for John. America. The world needs a hero again, and it's going to be John.” 
“He’s just a kid.”
“He won't be in a few years. I'm going to propose a deal.” He says and you stay quiet. “You’re going to leave and never come back and in return. We take this collar off.”  He grabbed it with his hands and he tugged it. “It will stay locked away and nobody will be able to replicate it. Vought will also make sure you live comfortably, funded for the rest of your life. Does that sound good?” 
Your jaw tensed and you took in a deep breath.
“What about John, he’s going to ask.” You say and feel your eyes water.
“We’ll worry about that. Now, do we have a deal?” He holds out his hand with a raised eyebrow. You looked at it and back up at him. With a deep breath, you grabbed his hand. 
-
A/n- not proud of this one tbh. Let me know what you guys think though. Going to start working on part 3 ASAP:)
32 notes · View notes
malware-180 · 1 year
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This is so embarrassing but can i request a Johan Liebert x Female reader that's stressed out from like their job or college stuff idkidk but take ur time!!
This is in spanish & english cuz yep! 👀
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Tu trabajo como profesora era algo que amabas pero que te estresaba en ocasiones. Los adolescentes de octavo grado eran un combustible de estrés para ti; tan caótico lidiar con un hervidero de chicos rebeldes, irresponsables y desconsiderados contigo y tus colegas.
Tal vez los llevarías de excursión a las calles de Detroit para que contemplen a los drogadictos y vagabundos del lugar. Dirás algo como "si no hacen sus tareas van a terminar peor que estas personas, muchachos".
Sí, eres algo cruel cuando te lo propones.
Al igual que Johan.
Tu novio con gusto escuchó tu letanía acerca de cómo la impresora del colegio se había atrofiado por falta de mantenimiento. Mientras preparaba un té de naranja con hierbabuena para ambos.
Después, le contaste sobre como Earving (marsupial del instituto) se escapó de su jaula y orinó los chícharos de la cafetería. Estás pensando en adoptar a ese travieso animal.
Liebert se rió ante tu anécdota. No es tan fan de los animales, pero no se opuso a la idea.
Trazó un masaje sobre tus hombros con el propósito de que estuvieras relajada. Tu novio siempre daba en el centro de la diana cuando se trataba de hacerte sentir mejor.
Hoy, no fue la excepción a la regla. Mira, incluso fue a comprarte tu pastel favorito.
Tal vez convenga estresarte más seguido. ¿No?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
English version
Your job as a teacher was something you loved but was stressful at times. Eighth grade teenagers were stress fuel for you; so chaotic dealing with a swarm of unruly, irresponsible and inconsiderate kids with you and your colleagues.
Maybe you'd take them on a hike on the streets of Detroit to see the local drug addicts and homeless people. You'll say something like "if you don't do your homework you're going to end up worse than these people, guys."
Yes, you are somewhat cruel when you put your mind to it.
Like Johan.
Your boyfriend was happy to listen to your complaint about how the school printer had atrophied from lack of maintenance. While preparing an orange tea with mint for you to.
Later, you told him about how Earving (high school marsupial) broke out of his cage and urinated on the peas in the cafeteria. You are thinking of adopting that mischievous animal.
Liebert laughed at your anecdote. He's not that big of an animal fan, but he wasn't opposed to the idea.
He traced a massage on your shoulders with the purpose that you were relaxed. Your boyfriend always hit the bull's-eye when it came to making you feel better.
Today was no exception to the rule. Look, he even went to buy you your favorite cake.
It may be worth stressing out more often. No?
_______________________
I hope you like it!
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apocalypse-shuffle · 4 months
Text
BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)
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“Pandora’s Melody” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)
| It’s your first Christmas Benefit since working for Vought and you’re starting to chafe a little at all the rules. Least the music’s finally getting good.
| SFW, office rules, workplace discrimination(?), Vought International’s dress code policy & casual disregard of The Crown Act
| Pic Source: The Boys (s1)
| 800+ words
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“Don’t fuck this up,” Ashley had said, sweaty handkerchief that was far too drenched to mop anything else up clenched tightly inside her fist, and a closed lip smile straining her spotty red painted lips.
And for your part you’d smiled back, nodded your head like a heavily - and repeatedly - hit bobble head; eager to keep your position and even more desperate not to be seen as the unfriendly black girl lest you lose your job.
To your credit it’s not until far later in the evening when everybody’s inhabitions are totally fucked, the camera crews and reporters are gone, and even most of The Seven have left to do things far less beneath them than attending a company mixer that you loosen the hold your heart’s keeping on Ashley’s words just…a bit.
Suddenly the music gets a little less mind numbingly fucking boring too and your mood gets a little less sullen, and even with your mandatory three inch heels shackled to your feet you finally begin to feel the music. So bobbing along, and finally downing the singular glass you’d been nursing the whole evening, you find yourself searching out whoever’s creating the new and far more engaging melody.
Your heart almost stops when you realize it’s Black Noir at the piano, gloved fingers flying over the keys, quite literally the only hero still bothering to attend this thing.
When a quick glance up shows that even Mr. Edgar’s no longer in attendance - though never unseeing you’re sure - you start talking mostly out of shock. You’ve never really been this close to any of the hero’s before now.
“Good - ah - good choice,” you murmur, “Hapless is really just such a downer for a Christmas Benefit.”
Muscles tense and breath short, fingers clasped together behind your back like a vice, you wait a beat for his reaction.
When all he does is kind of glance your way though you nearly breath out a sigh right in front of him before catching yourself, and you feel so free that for a second you want to take your hair down from its “more professional” slicked back bun so you can really feel the music through you.
Instead you untuck your dress shirt to quell the urge. Fuck, your pantssuit was starting to feel increasingly more suffocating the longer you worked here. At this point you felt like you’d end up buried in the damn thing then forced to partially exist as a pantsuit wearing ghost for the rest of your forever unrest for good measure—
—annnd think positive thoughts. The music is good, you want to sway. You settle for keeping up your subtle head bop and adding a few soundless taps against your thigh to the mix.
After he doesn’t slice you in half - or some other such gruesome death dealing action - you take another few moments to identify the song Noir himself has begun playing.
It’s lovely, and as much as you want to close your eyes to visualize the song’s name a bit better in your mind you opt not to so you can continue watching the way that Noir plays.
It’s more graceful than you’d expect (but considering the way you’d seen him train that was a little foolish of you). The silent hero’s fingers move across the keys like a true virtuoso, hands gliding from note to note with hardly a thought but still exactly right. In the entire time that it takes you to place the song he doesn’t miss a single beat and doesn’t lose his tempo; not a thing about how he plays looks or even sounds off.
Normally you’d be remiss to label anything perfect, but if there were ever an exception…
…Noir’s playing was perfect.
A small smile stretches your plush lips.
Delightfully so.
“The Minute Waltz,” you say after finally placing the song, only shuffling in place a little.
Which is how in the next minute you end up seated next to him after his head had snapped to you - and honestly you’d half figured he’d stopped minding you by that point so you’d been plenty surprised to find out otherwise.
Black Noir had stared you into submission with exactly one incline of his head to convey his invitation in any clear manner until, with held breath and a prayer, you’d sat down beside him where he’d made room on the piano bench.
Then it’s touch and go as - with your heart firmly in your throat and hoping to god you don’t screw anything up - Noir takes to eventually wanting you as more than just a captive audience. He plays a few simple chords, pauses, then looks over to you until after not too long you begin copying him.
By the end of the function your heart’s settled and you can slowly, but steadily, get through the entirety of Gymnopedie No.1 - with Noir pushing the pedal of course.
He even gives you a little silent round of applause once you’ve played through it on your own.
Like that, Noir at your side and surrounded by all the drunk limp dicks you work with tripping and throwing up over themselves, is the first time you feel like a real part of Vought.
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!
Um, I just wrote this tonight at random and with a cold so if there’s mistakes no there isn’t. Also, it’s Christmas and I figured I had a themed fic in me tonight so here you go and Happy Holidays (I guess)!
Don’t question how the Reader-Insert knows the names of these songs, it doesn’t matter.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!
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mlmxreader · 2 years
Text
Desperate Times | Black Noir x m!reader
Anonymous asked: Hello! May I request a Black Noir x supe!boyfriend!reader where the reader is a apart of The Seven (and maybe was apart of Payback with Noir) who realizes after finding out that Homelander found out Soldier Boy is his dad, the reader rushes to Noir and takes him out of Vought before Homelander gets to him? The writers did my boy so dirty aahhh
summary: you never liked working for Vought, but when Homelander and Soldier Boy are after your boyfriend, desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures. 
tws: swearing, tokenisation mentions, mentions of murder/death
word count: 1332
CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS
You only ever agreed to work for Vought because of what they threatened you with; they knew who your family were, they knew who your friends were, they had names and addresses, and although you only ever took part in the PR stunts and the public appearances, you hated every second of it. Even when you and Black Noir started dating, with you taking on the public nickname of “Black Noir’s Close Male Friend” and “Black Noir’s Good Friend (y/n)”, you did still become Vought’s token queer Supe couple, you hated it more and more every day; you despised them, with the exception of Maeve and Starlight, but you were careful about it. You had to be. Quiet defiance was the best you could do in your situation, or else you would risk those you loved and held dearly getting hurt; but then Soldier Boy happened. 
Some dumb cunt had brought him back, some dumb fucking cunt brought him back, and Noir ran off; you weren’t sure where, you were certain he was saving his own ass and you were grateful for that - you knew what had happened between them, and although it pained you not to be at his side, you wanted your boyfriend to be safe above all else. You were glad he left everyone else to deal with it, if it meant that he would be safe. 
Quiet defiance wasn’t an option anymore, Vought was falling apart, Soldier Boy was without a doubt going to at least try to kill your boyfriend; it took actions you would regret when there was a time for such a thing, but you found out. You didn’t believe it at first. Soldier Boy? Someone’s dad? It seemed like bullshit. 
But then it was Homelander. Homelander was the spawn of that cunt. 
That made sense; the apple obviously didn’t fall far from the tree in this case. 
“Homelander’s always had Daddy issues,” you muttered under your breath, “Mummy issues, too…” 
Your hands started to tremble as you realised what Homelander would do to Noir; you started to bite at the inside of your lip, tugging at the flesh and making it bleed. You knew who would need those papers, so you stuffed them into your back pocket, and you tried to get some alone time with Starlight if you ever found her; she would pass them on and get them in the right hands. She would make sure that they didn’t fall into Homelander’s pocket, or even worse, Soldier Boy’s. 
You trudged down to the elevator, wanting nothing more than to pack up your shit and to leave, but when the lift stopped, and the doors opened, your eyes widened. 
“Earving…” 
Noir nodded, giving you a little wave and holding his arm out, gesturing for you to go before he did; but you shook your head, grabbing him and pulling him in close, your face between his neck and his shoulder, one arm over his shoulder, the other under his arm as you sniffled quietly. Noir smiled from under his mask, holding you in the same way and even daring to lean his head a little to the side, just so that he could memorise how you felt in his arms; all around him, he could see little green hearts popping up, but when he heard you sniffle, those hearts shattered, and he pushed you away a little, enough so that he could meet your gaze with a shake of his head. 
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, bringing your hands up to his mask, cupping his jaw as you swallowed thickly. “We have to leave.” 
He shook his head, bringing his hands up to your wrists and holding them gently. 
“We have to,” you muttered, your voice cracking and trembling. “Earving, we have to go. We have to leave. Come on.” 
Noir wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew that you wouldn’t lie to him, not after all this time of being his boyfriend - why would you lie to him? Why would you have any reason to betray him? 
He dutifully followed you down the corridor, his hand attached to your wrist as he tried to keep up with your quick pace, everything going by in a slight blur as he followed you, hardly paying attention until you wound up in some historical building; he recognised Mother’s Milk instantly, who stood up and was ready to fight, but you held your hands up in surrender. 
“Please,” you reached into your back pocket, and produced the papers. “You might wanna look at these.” 
Mother’s Milk snatched them off of you, looked over them for a second, then looked at Noir. “What’s he doing here?” 
“I can’t let Homelander get to him,” you said softly, shaking your head. “And I can’t let Soldier Boy get anywhere near him either… please. A truce?”
“What do you get out of it?”
“I get to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t fucking die,” you growled, pushing Noir a little behind you as you did your best to seem strong. “I’m not asking for protection - or for, for help. Just… neutrality.” 
Mother’s Milk clenched his jaw, looking at the papers again before he looked back at you. “Why did you bring this to me?”
“I know Starlight helps you,” you explained, “and I know you lot wanna take down Homelander. I thought… thought it might help.” 
That pained and pleading look wasn’t something Mother’s Milk ever wanted to see, it was the type of look that made him grumble and nod as he reached into his pocket. 
“Neutral ground,” he told you with a curt nod, handing you a set of keys. “There’s an apartment not far from here - Homelander and Soldier Boy don’t know about it. Go there, and be gone by the time I get back.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered, shaking his hand and giving him a weak smile. “Really, thank you, I-”
“Go,” he pressed, sighing heavily when you and Noir turned around and left. 
He didn’t lie, it was only a short walk away, and you were certain that no one had seen you or Noir on your way in, either, but as soon as you were in, you urged him to change into the clothes that were in the wardrobe, writing out a little apology note and leaving it under the bedside lamp with enough money to cover any dry cleaning costs - including ironing. 
You couldn’t settle, though, sitting at the edge of the bed and biting your lip, your leg bouncing until Noir gently put his hand on your knee and shook his head; you smiled a little, putting your hand on his and leaning into his side when he sat down. 
“I know how badly you wanted to kill Soldier Boy,” you started, “and you have every right to have the killing blow - but I can’t… can’t risk losing you… with Homelander on your ass as well, it’s just… it’s too much of a risk.” 
Noir nodded, grabbing the notepad and pen and scribbling on it. “I know. I will kill him.” 
“I’ll help,” you said gently. “When it comes to Soldier Boy, I’ll help.” 
“No,” he wrote, “you go away. I will kill.” 
“You can’t do it alone,” you pressed. “We’re a team, remember? It’s me and you. And if we… Noir, if we put our shit together, we can take down Soldier Boy - you can have the killing blow.” 
“Okay,” he caved. “I love you.” 
Gently, you took the pen from him. “I know, I love you, too… we’ll hide out here until Homelander’s dealt with - then we’ll… we’ll go to the farm, y’know, the one Kaci and Theo own. They’ll hide us for a while, and-” 
Noir shut you up by pressing his forehead to yours, making you laugh softly as you held onto him tightly, wanting nothing more than to know that he was there, he wasn’t dead yet. 
“I talk too much, don’t I?”
He nodded. 
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annaberunoyume · 1 year
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J'ai publié 1 172 fois en 2022
C'est 1 041 billets de plus qu'en 2021 !
199 billets créés (17%)
973 billets reblogués (83%)
Les blogs que j'ai le plus reblogués :
@unwelcome-ozian
@monsterbride99
@feltycartoons
@benjimatorarts
@the-clumsywitch
J'ai étiqueté 1 123 billets en 2022
Seulement 4% de mes billets ne comportaient pas de tag
#astrology - 153 billets
#spideypool - 64 billets
#art - 42 billets
#mob psycho 100 - 42 billets
#wlw - 40 billets
#lesbian - 38 billets
#youtube - 34 billets
#fanart - 33 billets
#wade wilson - 32 billets
#lgbtq - 31 billets
Tag le plus long : 110 caractères
#love the way u drew spidey n how we can definitely tell he isnt going to be looking away anytime soon ahahahah
Mes billets vedette en 2022 :
n°5
Ain't Nothing a little Emerald Dust won't cure! (Black Noir x Genderneutral!Reader)
Black Noir finds himself lost in thoughts and cannot fall asleep. You, as Emerald Dust, a supe that can make people fall asleep with fairy-like dust, helps him out.
****
Black Noir: (Fidjetting on his tatami.)
Y/N: (Sitting next to him.) Earving, you're okay?
Black Noir: (He writes something on his notebook.) I CAN'T STOP WORRYING ABOUT YOU
Y/N: Oh, dear. Why?
Black Noir: YOU ARE NOT AS STRONG AS THE OTHERS
Y/N: I know. But you taught me so well in fighting skills. And without me, the Seven would kill more. Seriously, what is it with Maeve and killing? A little dust of mine would usually do the trick. Also, I am slightly rising in points with the public. I guess you can call selling sleeping pills and herbal teas a good start. Hehe.
Black Noir: (He seems to silently laugh under his mask, then lowers his head.)
Y/N: …Earving? they touch his shoulder
Earving: (He turns around and looks at them…Then…He slowly removes his mask, revealing a pleading right eye. He scribbles a note.) PLEASE USE YOUR POWER ON ME
Y/N: Huh? You want me…to make you fall asleep?
Earving: (Nods more frantically. Then he sheds a tear and hugs them, nesting his face into their belly.)
Y/N: Alright. (stroking his hair and helping him lie down on their lap You're so beautiful. They smile with emotion, then slowly raises their hand above his face. A gentle, slow rain of turquoise dust slowly falls like a mist of rain on his eyes. Y/N takes special care in using their powers at a snail's pace to utterly soothe their sweet raven prince. They begin to sing.)
Go to sleep, the twilight's softly falling
Rest ye well
Beneath the evening star
Troubled hearts, find repose
'Neath the drowsy spell of night
Cares of day, drift away
As the sun sinks out of sight
Go to sleep…
Rest ye well…
Go to sleep…
Go to sleep…
Earving: (As they sing and hum to him, he finds himself slowly turning turquoise in colour, his little cartoon friends nestling in the nook of his arms. He sighs, smiling more and more drunkenly and looking up adoringly at Y/N. He yawns and nuzzles Y/N's belly.)
Y/N: (They smile lovingly and stroke his head, nuzzling his forehead and kissing it, smiling up to their eyes as he completely becomes darkly turquoise. Earving yawns again and smacks his lips together before snuggling his head into their belly more and drifting into a sweet, deep slumber. Rest ye well…) Go to sleep…
(Y/N kisses his head one last time, before shifting so that they are lying down, Earving's head on their stomach and Y/N's arm over his chest and Buster Beaver on top of it.)
THE END
Voir l'intégralité du billet
54 notes - publié le 23 septembre 2022
n°4
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Charlie and Nick being too cute for their own good. Thank you, Alice Oseman, for bringing forth such a lovely, wholesome story!
59 notes - publié le 25 avril 2022
n°3
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When your shadow self is glitching...
Gif found here: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/511510470186651700/
77 notes - publié le 9 mars 2022
n°2
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Lookin' at you, Juce, Spideypool and Symbrock. ;-)
Original video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-D50bjRjwHc
86 notes - publié le 17 mars 2022
Mon billet n°1 en 2022
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Found this image on Pinterest. I kinda wish Venom would hold little insomniac me, right now. Just like this. Original art by Crowrelli.
363 notes - publié le 8 mars 2022
Obtenez votre année 2022 en revue sur Tumblr →
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