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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

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An Omen (To Everyone but Me)

Black Noir x Female Reader

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Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) size kink, spanking, hair pulling, choking, slight olfactophilia, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, slightly rough sex

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A/N: I can’t hold myself back good God

Thank you to @phnyx for being an amazing beta reader <3 as always, ily

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It’s a slow, quiet maneuver, one he’s done a million times before but never in this context. Not once in his life has he entered someone’s home in secret with goodness in his heart. And he’s not necessarily sure if this is a good thing, but it feels good, at least for him. He knows he makes you feel good, too.

Even though he means well, he stalks you like prey once he’s in your home, slipping in through your living room window and hiding in the shadows. He’d scaled a few buildings to get up to the level you were at, but it wasn’t a hard task. His eyes adjust quickly once he’s inside too, regardless of the lack of light. Your apartment is dark, almost all of your lamps off as you’re likely preparing for bed. It’s late in the night, but he knows you’re awake; he saw you moving around through the windows during his approach.

So, he waits, watching, listening, eyes slowly scanning the room. And when he finally sees you, his heart thumps in his chest. Not with surprise but with longing; he missed you.

“Jesus,” you nearly shriek, his shadowy figure now visible as he stands in the corner.

You’re only in a pair of panties and a sleep shirt, having wandered out into the living room while on your way to the kitchen. You were grabbing a glass of water before bed.

Your eyes squint. “Noir?”

His presence is completely unannounced, and for some foolish reason, you briefly wonder how he got in. It only takes a few seconds for you to see the open window beside him.

“What, what’re you…”

In the darkness, he cocks his head to the side, now stepping forward to approach you. He crosses the floor of your living room, making a slow, straight line directly for you.

It’s been weeks since you’ve last seen him, and while you’re shocked in the moment, you’re also happy. You’ve missed him; even if all you usually did was touch each other in bed, you missed him. His presence alone made you feel content and safe, and you really liked that.

With dark eyes, he approaches you, towering above you once he’s close enough. You breathe out a small hi while staring up at him, your heart fluttering inside. His breaths are heavy, evident by the visible rise and fall of the armor covering his chest. But he doesn’t seem angry or upset, at least it doesn’t appear that way. You can just tell, you can just feel it. With that being said though, he’s definitely not calm.

You wonder what he’s been up to, not since being apart, but before he arrived tonight. Was he in the middle of completing a mission? Did he already complete one, finding himself in your area shortly after? Or did he set out to find you? It’s funny, you think, if you were anyone else, you’d be scared. Terrified, even. To those on the wrong side of The Seven, Black Noir was an enemy, an omen, something to truly fear. Maybe he is an omen, you think, an omen to everyone but me.

Noir reaches out to you, smoothing his right hand gently over your cheek, then your jaw. It’s a timid touch, soft and almost sweet. He’s admiring you.

“I missed you, too.” you tell him, melting under his touch.

Before anything else is done or said, Noir’s hand slides down to your neck. In the same motion he walks forward, his strong body urging your own to step back. He’s not satisfied until you’re pressed against your living room wall, his fingers clamping down around your throat while he watches you release a quiet gasp. You take a shaky breath, his advance already making the space between your legs burn bright. As a reflex, your hands reach for him, grabbing onto his armored forearm. The act is unexpected but not unwelcome, much like his appearance.The sheer size of him compared to yourself makes your breaths almost nonexistent, his height and strength unmatched to that of any other man that’s ever joined you in bed.

And then he leans in, his face not even an inch from yours. He doesn’t do it to intimidate you, he does it just for the sake of being close to you.

“Baby,” you moan with a grin, feeling his right hand lower to cup you between your legs.

He growls, a small noise, but loud enough for you to hear. And then, his head tilts, a curious yet teasing motion as he touches you. You like this? his silent gesture says. Pressing his body against yours, he rubs you, the movements of his hand firm and slow. He’s looking down at you, holding your throat while breathing out heavily through his nose. It’s satisfying, finally being with you again. He thought about you nearly every day you were apart; he wanted to see you so badly, and in so many ways. There were nights where he laid in bed thinking about you, rolling over to hold his pillow and wishing it was you. There were also nights where he laid in his underclothes and touched himself, wishing his hand was you, too.

“Mm,” you softly grunt, eyes closing while his fingers rub you.

It’s not long before you’re rolling your hips down into his hand, and sadly, it’s not long after that, that his movements subside. With anticipation tingling in your bones, you finally feel Noir’s fingers slip your panties to the side. A long breath is released from both of your bodies as his middle finger slides slowly into your warmth; he can feel it even through his gloves. He keeps it there, only for a moment, only until you sigh. And when you do, it’s then that he moves, the back and forth motion of his first act leisurely as he begins to work you open.

“Noir,” comes your passionate moan, eyes still shut while you grip his forearm tight. You can feel the muscles in his forearm flexing, working hard to stretch you out while adding a second finger to the mix. They’re twice the size of yours; even three of your own could never compare to what he has.

He pumps them into you, pressing his pelvis over your hip while watching you, his gaze unwavering although you don’t know. Even though your eyes are closed, he loves to see the expressions you make; he loves to see what he does to you. He can’t wait to hear the noises he can pull from you.

What really gets you is his grip on your throat, as it’s still relatively new. He’d only done it once before and that’s when he last saw you. It seems strange but you love the feeling of it, his fist wrapped tight around your windpipe, fingers pressing into your skin, especially while he touches you. It’s exciting, because you know he could do so much harm to you if he wanted to. But he never would, he’d never want to hurt you. He made sure to not hurt you the first time he did it, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. And he does the same now, doing his best not to get too excited or overwhelmed. But holding you like this makes him feel strong. Of course, so did other things, like his powers and skills, the missions he’s completed and the enemies he’s killed. But it feels different with you. Noir doesn’t spend time with other people, not like how he spends time with you.

“Yes,” while you gasp, he curls his fingers inside you, hearing the slick squelch of your sex and groaning. “God yes.”

He stares at you the entire time, the muscles in his arms bunching as he works his fingers into you, his other hand keeping you pinned up against the wall. You’re panting slightly as his fingers tighten around your neck, licking your lower lip as you let him hold you this way. It’s far too easy for him to control you physically, to move your body in whatever way he wants. He’s thrown men through walls before, surely he could do more than this to you. But he doesn’t, he cares for you. He finds himself liking you. And besides, there was never any reason to hurt you, not unless you asked him to.

Noir’s fingers punch up inside you, curling every time they reach your deepest parts. The leather of his gloves rubs against your inner walls, the sensation incredibly stimulating - not dissimilar to the rest of him. You’d moan from the overwhelming nature of it all, but you can’t, not really. Small grunts and groans, little whines even, slip past your lips, but because of his firm grip you’re not able to get out much. When he hears your small whimpers he again tilts his head, coming in even closer to you. One of your hands leaves his forearm, reaching out and clutching his shoulder as he rests his forehead over your own, now beginning to move his hips against you. You can hear Noir’s deep and heavy sighs, every single breath quick yet firm.

Suddenly, your mouth opens, jaw hanging low as your high rapidly approaches. There’s a rumble in his chest when he sees the expression on your face, feels the tightness of your sex around his digits. He can already feel you beginning to shake, your core spasming while your throat desperately tries to cry out. A shiver vibrates through your body, limbs trembling from adrenaline and euphoria.

“N - N…” your lips try, but it’s useless. Your eyes roll back, hips bucking helplessly into his hand as you experience your high. It rolls through you in waves, provoking a gentle smile on your face.

He doesn’t stop when your body finally reacts, finally reaches its peak. He wants you to ride it out for as long as possible, feel as nice as you can before he starts all over again. He’s made you cum twice before and he knows he can do it again.

“Ugh,” comes your dramatic noise, a choked-out gasp falling out of your throat when he finally lets go.

The hand you left on his shoulder drops, falling to his other arm. When Noir removes his fingers, his head immediately dips down to your chest. You expected this; he always did this, and you welcomed it. Both of his hands fall to either side of your breasts, his face planting in the center as he pushes them together while releasing a heated breath. Your own hands slide up to the back of his head, cradling him as he rests there.

“Oh…” you moan for him, tilting your head back to rest against the wall. And he sighs in return, heart thundering in his chest from seeing and feeling you cum.

He rubs his masked face over your chest, burying deeper between your tits. He wishes so badly he could feel your bare skin on his face. His hands massage you passionately, fingers digging into your plump flesh. His entire body is pressed against yours, so much so that it’s almost difficult to breathe. It was nearly too much, he was always too much, but you loved it that way.

Noir keeps his face pressed into the crease of your tits, hips rolling gently over your own. If you wanted to, you could wrap your legs around him, just hang onto his body while he now explored his own bliss. Because that’s what life was when he was with you. Bliss.

“Noir,” you sigh, a smile creeping up on your face when you feel him sigh.

He never liked when you touched his knives, so you’re careful of the small dagger fixed at the back of his head. Nonetheless, you hold him, cradling him against your chest while he moans into you. Slowly, he moves his head, dragging it side to side as he feels the pounding in your chest. If he listens closely, he can hear it, too. His abilities allowed him the perfect opportunity to experience you fully.

While pressing his face against you, his hands fall to another part of you, his favorite part of you. Sexually, at least.

“Baby,” it’s something between a groan and a whine, feeling both hands grab you with force.

He smooths his palms over your ass before squeezing you tightly, jiggling your backside briefly in his hands.

“You missed touching me?” you ask him breathlessly, sighing out a laugh when he nods his head.

Hurriedly, Noir’s hands find his belt, undoing it quickly and dropping the armor around his crotch. He just couldn't take it anymore, he needed more stimulation from you. And besides, he was so hard that keeping his cup on was becoming painful for him. But when it’s off he doesn’t release himself, he just grinds his pelvis into you. It’s now that his hands return to your ass, sliding down to your thighs as he lifts you. Naturally, your arms wrap around his neck. It’s crazy how easy it is for him to lift you.

“Baby, wait,” you giggle, hands falling to either side of his face.

Immediately, he looks up at you, his chest moving rapidly. He can’t wait to ravish you.

“I missed you,” you breathe out to him, “I really missed you being here with me.”

Inside, your words make him sigh. He’s longed to hear such sweetness from you. Up until now, your encounters were just that, encounters. They didn’t last long, a night at most maybe. But he never slept by your side, never saw your face in the morning. Maybe he could change that tonight.

He’s been to your home a handful of times, enough to know the layout accurately. Though with his training, he only needed to visit once to memorize every piece. In a few steps, he’s at your bedroom door, kicking it open the rest of the way while he feels you kiss his face. Your smiling lips touch the nose of his mask, his covered cheeks, and it’s quite the intimate gesture to him. Your adoration for him runs so deep, it’s heartwarming.

Once inside your room, Noir all but throws you on your bed. He follows you down, his hands reaching for your shirt. Even though he tries not to rip it, he does so easily, lifting it up and over your head but tearing the hemline slightly.

“H-uh,” you gasp, feeling him yank you down to the end of the bed by the firm grasp he put on your legs.

In one quick swipe, your panties are off and on the floor, leaving you completely bare below him. He rises to his full height above you once you’re naked for him, head lowering while he scans what is now available to him. His shoulders rise and fall with the intensity of his emotions, his chest slightly out, arms at his sides while he observes you. He inhales deeply, seeing your naked chest. Your nipples are very clearly hardened, and that alone makes him throb. His eyes follow the dips and curves of your body, his want for you skyrocketing with each passing second. The sight of you laid out beneath him makes his head spin; he’s waited so long for this.

Slowly, he makes his way down, falling to his knees with his hands sliding over the curves of your legs. They land on your thighs, moving to the portion underneath as he lifts them slightly. Furrowing your brow, you lean up a bit to look down at him. What the hell is he doing?

“Oh,” a wondrous sigh floats out of your mouth, watching Noir press his face to your soaking center. “Oh…”

You can fucking hear him inhale, pressing his masked face into the space between your legs. And then he groans, rubbing himself in a similar fashion to the way he moved when worshipping your tits. He can smell you and if he presses himself here long enough, he’ll be able to taste you, too. Some of your slick slides across his mask, the slightly damp sensation making his eyes roll back.

“N - Noir, I…”

Hearing him moan is one of the best things to you. He never talks, he can’t. But he moans and groans, he grunts and sighs; any noise you can get from him makes your body run absolutely wild.

Slapping his palms onto the bed, he lifts himself from your sex. As soon as he does, his hands find your hips. With a sharp jerk of his head toward the edge of your bed, he flips you over onto your stomach. Moving with his gesture, you crawl forward over your blankets, settling on all fours for him. The mattress dips as he climbs on behind you, slowly shuffling forward until he’s pressed right against you. Gloved fingers return to your hips, instantly sliding down to your ass once again. Noir’s fingertips dig into your skin, a very audible growl emitting from his throat when he does it. With sudden force his palm lands on your right cheek, gripping you harshly immediately afterwards. You cry out from the unexpected impact, the hit surging your body forward until you’re resting on your forearms. His rough sighs become louder the longer this goes on, a grin crawling across your lips with each and every hit. Honestly, it feels like he’s playing with you. He’s done this to you before, but not for this long.

Noir’s broad palms grab both cheeks, bouncing them softly as he finally presses his covered pelvis into you from behind. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees something flash. A floor-length mirror standing tall beside your dresser. And if he turns you just right, he bets he’ll be able to see you in it.

“Noir,” you whine, your face pressing into the sheets. “Please.”

You can feel yourself spasming around nothing, wanting more of him though your pleas continue to be silently denied. Your lungs inhale shakily, your breathy sighs turning into pathetic whines.

Unexpectedly, Noir grabs your hips, yanking you backwards and maneuvering your body slightly to the side. From this angle he can see himself kneeling behind you, his dark and broad body towering above your waiting, pliant form.

Carefully, Noir’s right hand slides forward, down your back, up your neck, and into your hair. Tangling into your strands, he pulls backward, yanking your head up. The action isn’t harsh but in the same sense isn’t kind. The force of it makes you gasp, your eyes now landing on the mirror. Immediately, Noir’s reflection is center-stage. You can feel his deep and predatory gaze, his grip on your backside tightening when you lock in with his eyes.

In an experimental act, he lets go, allowing you to hold your head up on your own. And you do, eyes fixated on him as he moves. Both of Noir’s hands drop to his hips, fumbling with his suit as he works to finally free himself. You can hear his groan when he does it, and it makes you moan. Almost limply, his head falls to his shoulder, sighing out a deep and contented breath; he’s stroking himself. But then, a grunt, a displeasured one.

“Hm?” you hum, turning to the side.

He leans over you, bracing himself on his left hand while holding out his other.

“I, what…” you’re not sure what he wants.

Noir presses his body to yours, his armored chest laying over your bare back. The hand he’s holding out in front of you inches closer, two of his fingers separating from the others. Your lips are already parted, and alongside your own gaze, he watches you through the mirrors as you take in his fingers. Still gloved of course, you wrap your lips around them, just barely able to taste your own cum from when he’d finger fucked you in your living room. It’s a quick motion though, simply in and out. And then again, he holds his palm out.

“You want… spit?” comes your breathy question, and in the reflection, he nods.

Gently, you purse your lips, trying to hold back your grin. He’s never asked you to do this before. And when you complete his request, dripping your spit into the palm of his hand, he groans, running the point of his nose along the slope of your shoulder and neck.

Almost impatiently, he leans back up, slapping his hand onto his cock and pumping himself furiously. With your spit in his palm, it’s much easier than before, his heart rate increasing with every tug he gives.

“Baby, please,” you groan, only whining slightly. “Please put it in.”

You can see the hasty motions of his arm in the mirror - you can’t stop looking into it. He looks so broad behind you, so menacing as he kneels above you. His breaths are audible when he finally lines himself up, your jaw falling slack at the mere sensation of his tip meeting your outer lips. He rubs you, his free hand landing on your left cheek and caressing you softly. His head has fallen down now, watching himself intently and unaware of your own unwavering gaze.

“Yes…”

With a small push, he’s inside you, slowly moving forward while he sighs. You want to drop your head down, but you don’t; you don’t want to miss a single second of this. The sight of him when he’s fully inside makes you moan; when his pelvis meets your backside, Noir’s head drops back. A wild groan hits the air, one you certainly didn’t expect. He’s been away from you for too long.

“N-Noir!” you stutter, feeling the hand he used to guide himself in land on your upper ass.

You see it in the mirror, the act of him spanking you. It’s errotic and new, all of it, every piece of it. His entirely armored body compared to your naked form, the movements each of you make in response to the other, Noir’s simple gestures and motions, it’s all on display for you; for both of you. You can hear everything, too, you love when you can hear it. The squelch of your meeting sex, how it grows with every thrust he gives. It floats through the air of your small space, your room barely lit with just enough light to see him.

His movements are rough and unfaltering, and every time he slides back inside your body practically vibrates with bliss. You’ve never met a man that can rock you to your core so thoroughly before him. It’s everything you can do to not cry out from it, from him, his thrusts so heated and heavy that they shove you forward inch by inch. Your fingers grip the sheets, mouth hanging open while he rails you into your bed. He’s throbbing inside you, his chest heaving behind you while his hands return to the glorious expanse of your ass.

Looking down, he can already see he’s marked you. He must’ve hit you hard for you to bruise in such a short amount of time; he wonders if he hurt you. He wonders if you liked it.

Behind his mask, Noir growls, a gutteral noise rumbling through his chest as he feels your warm skin clamp down around him. He’s seen other women while you’ve been apart, not sexually or romantically, but day to day due to his career. Some were really pretty, some really weren’t, but none of them seemed to spark the instant attraction he had when he first saw you. And he’s had it every time he’s seen you since.

“Fuck, yes!” you cry out, mustering up the strength to begin bouncing back against him.

He always has to remind himself to be gentle with you. This isn’t necessarily gentle, not to the average person. But for Noir, he’s holding himself back. Because of his powers, he could truly do so much more.

“Noir, baby, please.”

You aren’t sure what you’re pleading for and honestly neither is he, he’s just happy to hear you scream for him again. You’re gasping and panting, your moans forceful and high. Every time he plunges inside he pierces something that makes you see white. Your body fizzles inside, limbs entirely weak when he fucks you like this.

Through the reflection, Noir can see your beautiful face. The expressions you make force his passion to new heights, provoking his motions to become faster and deeper. You’re so stunning like this, your hair a mess from his hand, your face tired and cute. It’s just so sexy to him, the image of you.

You don’t know it, but you’re staring directly back at him, too. Each shove of his hips makes your body bounce and sway, his strength and force so visible when you see him like this. It only heightens the euphoria currently bursting inside of you, seeing him move like this while inside of you. And the drag of his cock against your walls is debilitating, the stretch of him a painful bliss you’ve dearly missed.

This is so new for the both of you and it forces your bodies’ pleasure to new heights. All too quickly, Noir feels himself cum inside, his release unexpected and sudden. With a sharp, almost painful groan, his swollen cock leaks into you, his release finding home inside your warm and welcoming walls. He rocks your body back and forth as he comes down, rolling his hips into you and smiling when you move with him. It’s slow and almost intimate, your collective motions. He leans over you, resting his chest on your back once again. You can feel his breaths on your shoulder, the sensation sending a shiver across your skin.

This was too quick for him; he doesn’t want to leave you again.

When Noir pulls out of you, he sighs, worry running through his head. Could he really change your closeness tonight? Was he capable of that? Would you want that?

His hands roam your hips and thighs lovingly, your backside, too. He caresses the marks he’d made on you, feeling a small twinge of guilt though it’s nothing compared to the pride he has blooming inside. He waits for you to begin to move before he steps off the bed, watching as you roll onto your back. Lazily, you smile, brushing some hair away from your forehead.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” you coo to him quietly, sitting up while staring at him.

Noir’s body is still calming down, his breaths steadying now only after he’s been apart from you for a few minutes. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t nod or move, he just stares right back at you. But you still smile, the air between the two of you soft and kind.

While you’re gone he takes care of himself, too. Wandering into your guest bath, he cleans himself before tucking his softened erection away, releasing a breath as he ponders what to do. He doesn’t want to fucking leave you.

When you return from the bathroom, you find an empty room. It makes you sad, you thought maybe he’d stay for a minute this time. You expected him to at least be there when you got out of the bathroom. Maybe he left in a hurry this time, maybe he’s busy, or maybe he just doesn’t want to be here with you.

Pushing away the tear-provoking thought, you take a breath and fold open your covers. But before crawling into bed, a dark figure catches your eye.

“Oh,” you jump back, putting a hand on your chest. “Baby..."

Noir is in your bedroom doorway, and when you say this, he leans against the frame. While doing so, you swear you saw his shoulders jolt a little. Did you make him laugh?

“You’re, you’re still here.”

Sitting down on your bed, you offer him another smile. He likes how easy it is for you to be understanding and kind, to give someone the benefit of the doubt.

“Do you…” glancing to your right, your eyes scan the empty space beside you on your bed. “Do you want to stay? For the night?”

As soon as you say it, you almost feel childish, insecure. You're expecting him to say no. But to your surprise, Noir leans off the wall, standing to his full height. He nods while walking toward you with slow, almost timid steps. He's feeling a little nervous, too.

“Really?” a grin blooms on your face. He nods again.

Honestly, you’re not sure what this constitutes. Does he sleep with his armor on? Knives and all? Can he even separate the pieces of his suit? Will he allow you the opportunity to see him like this?

Patience, you've found, is key with him. After a few moments of silence, Noir begins to undress. You find out that there are separate pieces to his suit, and he takes them off one by one, along with his daggers and throwing knives. Walking over to your desk, he places everything on the surface, leaving himself in his black undersuit. When he’s finally free of his protective pieces, it dawns on you how much he must trust you.

“Here,” you say, patting the space beside you. Softly jerking your head, you repeat, “C’mere.”

He follows your gesture, a softer side to him now showing. He seems unsure and if he’s being honest he one-hundred percent is. It’s not often that he’s found himself doing something like this. But your bed seems cozy and you seem nice; you’re someone he wants to be with.

Folding open the blankets, you invite him in, watching as your dark warrior climbs into your bed. The mattress dips beside you as his body starts to rest, shimmying down slightly until his head is laying on your spare pillow.

“I’m gonna… turn this way,” you tell him with a sleepy smile. “Okay?”

He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t nod, so you turn anyway. You cuddle into your pillows and blankets, sighing and closing your eyes. It might be a little awkward, but you’ll take this, you’re happy with this. You’re so happy he decided to stay. Then, unexpectedly, you feel him move, now inching closer to you. There was a small space between your bodies but it’s not long before he’s pressed up against you, inhaling a calming breath as he situates himself behind you. You smile to yourself, feeling him move and wondering what he’ll do next. You stay still, letting him decide. To your delight he lifts his hand, hesitant to do so but eventually laying his palm on your side.

Even more than before, your cheeks rise into a grin, your heart squeezing inside. Is he really being sweet with you?

“You want to hold me?” you ask quietly, still facing away.

In his own way of responding, Noir’s arm loops around your midsection and pulls you in. Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s quick and sudden but you laugh as he does it, immediately snuggling into him. That makes his heart pound, your giddy laugh and loving motion. Your little body wiggles against his much sturdier frame, feeling the muscles beneath the thin fabric keeping you from feeling his skin. Huh, you’ve never felt his body like this before. Focusing on his touch, you’re able to feel the bulge of his bicep, the muscles in his forearm. His pectorals press against your back, the muscles in his stomach also prominent to you. He’s so strong, you think, becoming lost in your thoughts. I wish he’d always hold me.

Noir adjusts slightly, getting comfortable behind you. Tenderly, he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his calming breaths fanning out over your shoulder and chest. It’s relaxing like this, feeling his weight pressing into you, his powerful body holding you, cuddling you. It makes you tingle with joy inside, knowing he feels the same way you do. It’s new but he likes this, really likes this. He likes the feeling of having you in his arms, your small and slightly shallow breaths, your smell right beneath his nose as he nuzzles into your neck. It’s soft, intimate, the things he’s now doing with you. And he wants to do more of this with you; if you let him, he’d do this every time he comes to see you.

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