Black Noir is the center of your life. The reason you still even give the effort to breathe anymore in this dim, sick, world you’ve been forced to endure for how ever long you since you were born.

You were a supe. For all your life you’ve been worshiped. You were never good at anything but what your powers aloud you to do, so you chased after whatever career aligned your way.

life was hallow. Always has been and it felt like it always would be. Like living the same episode on replay.

Recently, you’ve been hired and bought by Vought. Your entire brand as a supe and everything. Though, you weren’t part of the Seven. More like an expansion. You were certainly stunned when the request came into the mail, everyone in your life yelling at you to do it. That this was life changing. So why not?

You were now a supe for Vought. Used in promo for events and military supe pride.

It was a honor and definitely a good on your side when you met Homelander at another Vought gala. His judging eyes and that fake smile of his didn’t bother you. Who are you to speak compared to him?

You were standing off in the corner of the party. Glass clinking, stale, a ballroom full of Vought patrons and some supes lingering around. Most reporters hanging around Homelander.

You stand alone, nursing a champagne you weren’t drinking. Zoning out while piano plays. Some reporters or just random rich men pass by to greet you, ask you questions you don’t care about. Just then you felt a large frame brush past you, you stumble out the way. Irritate. You turn your head only to be met with Black Noir staring at the puddle of your champagne that managed to fall out of your cup. You didn’t bother insulting him, he’s the oldest member of the Seven and most popular living member of Payback. You’d be killed by twitter if you insulted him.

So you just stand there, defeated and glaring at the mess his little shove caused on your suit. “It’s fine, Mr Noir—“ you start before Noir slides a few napkins out of one of the many pockets he has to wipe the droplets off you. You froze.

It was probably very awkward looking to anyone watching but to Noir, he was just being respectful. He usually wouldn’t do this but he was in a good mood. The cafeteria had his mashed potatoes today.

But to you-… Your heart was pounding, breath hitching as he cleaned the mess off of you so tenderly. Your knees suddenly started to go weak. What was this feeling? Where has it been all your life? This fiery emotion deep in your heart, making your blood run hot and your palms sweat.

After that, he simply pulled away, crumping the napkin and plopping it in your glass before walking off. You watched him walk off, a dreamy sigh leaves you. What a man.

That’s when it started. When saw Noir standing by any woman, any man, anything. If they looked too close- it would anger you. Why was he writing to them? Why not you?! He cleaned the mess off your suit now he thinks he could forget you! They’re trying to take him away from you. All of them. So you killed every last Vought employee that dared touch your king. Noir was starting to wonder why his cosmetics team was dwindling, and so was Vought. It’s not normal. They had a serial killer targeting Noir’s management and they knew they had to keep it on the DL to avoid public freak out. They had no idea the enemy was closer than they thought. You were obsessed.

Murdered anyone you deemed as a threat to your love, broke into his suite at times when he went out to events or for his daily lap around the tower to breathe in his air… and maybe sniff his undergarments. Anything to make you feel close to him. You didn’t mind his muteness, or his emotional stupidity. You were bad for him. And he had not the faintest of clue he had you hooked. Nobody did, with that poker face you have. He was yours, he just didn’t know it yet.