#noctis x reader

tw: implied obsession, themes of stalking, suspicious actions, sort of desperation, yandere dynamic, f!reader, reader's a fan, implied noncon recording at the end, slow-burn horror, etc.

i was scrolling through youtube when i saw a video talkin’ about several male idols who had become more what of a sasaeng itself to one of their fans rather than, y'know the opposite where the fans are.. mostly the one who's the sasaeng to the idols and i want to see how can i turned this into a short fic.

imagine this, you were a loving, and a deeply passionated fan of a male supermodel. You couldn't help but to gaze and forgot the rhythm of the world when your eyes caught up to him. I mean, how could you weren't? he's perfect.

he's the mythological man of your dreams. He looks very gentlemanly with all his other 'it girl' girlfriends. He's such a heartthrob that his entire body, from his hair, his face, his abs and his legs felt like a carved out figurine from a Devil May Cry game and other similiarities.

the first time you met him to an eye-to-eye felt more like a delusional imagination than a dream.

you could remember the way he subtly smiled. His chiseled features shifting in motion like a moving painting, greeting you in such a loving way. But what made it truly unforgettable, and—slightly off, is when you walked away from him.

call it spider instinct, but you could feel the weight of his surveillance from the horizon. His looming presence, still surrounded by all mundane-like-you admirers, stretching beneath the bronzed sunlight.

but you told yourself it was nothing. In fact, you were feeling very happy about it, supposedly. Because, is he not the man of your dreams? the one you always pondered and hoped that someone who.. may looked like him could enter your life?

well, now he truly is about to.

it was a subtle occassion. A small conversation. You were just on your usual night shift at the boring supermarket. Handling customers that comes and goes as they pleased. And the next you found the shop being approached by a tall, all black-wearing man.

you couldn't see his face thanks to the mask that covers it. Neither the rest of his body. But what caught you off is his scent.

you knew what it is, it smells extremely expensive. It's something you'd expect being manufactured by a billion-dollar company that can only be afforded by high clients and buyers.

and as you went to scan the barcode, mind foolishly wondering about what is his perfume might be, his finger pulled the string of the mask aside—and there he is.

him.

he didn't say anything suspicious, or creepy. He simply asked about the price of the stuff. You answered, ofcourse. And at the end of the payment, he gave you another of that subtle—sweet smile he once greets you at the meeting.

he knew, didn't he? he's not stupid. He's still remembers who you were.

hm.. but maybe it's just a coincidence. He's probably in desperate need of something, everyone does. And just in that moment he walked across the shop, and decided to enter in. Because again—he's in desperate need of something. A neccesity.

it's a small yet beautiful thing to be thought of. The way everyone is the same no matter what their professions are.

until you realized—things aren't that simple sometimes. That life hysterically laughs to your face as you simply thought that this happens only for a coincidence. A mundane, flat ones.

the hours of season passed and what once started from a small meeting, as nothing more but a fleeting celebrity and fan facing each other, now blooms into a dynamic.

he began to give you his number. He chats with you all the time. Give you stuff and even invites you to some of his fashion show. Though you were confused, like any normal person would, because you know he already had a girlfriend, or a partner—was it not?

so why? why does his action felt desperate at some occasion? like he's in need of something so badly? and why is it that, with you?

what did you even know? surely you cant even answer that question.

and while all of it seems really sweet and lovey-dovey, you really cant help the prickles at the back of your neck as he began to escalate further, as one being; giving you a stuffed toy.

a very sugary gift to be given, is it not? but again—weird, because you were his nobody. You weren't his girlfriend, you were just his fan, his admirer—and now friend, barely.

Of course you giggled, forcefully—at the face of the expensive toy. You tried convincing yourself that it may just be his way of showing an awkward act of kindness.

And until one evening, when the room was soaked with the glow of the sunlight. And then slowly the toy's glassy eye flashes with a pinprick of blue.

day 3 — jealous sex  ʚ noctis ɞ

jealous.noctis ;; possessive behaviour ;; marking ;; overstimulation ;; dirty talk ;; manhandling ;; semi public ;; sex without a condom ;; creampie mention ;; a little rough, degradation & praise ;; 18+ only.

noctis nsfw drabble

dom!noctis, fem!reader, sloppy penetration, belly bulging, creampie, general filth

authors note: tysm for requestingggg, i need noctis in my life.

— ʚɞ

Noctis who holds your legs open as he curls over your body and gently rolls his hips, slowly stretching your insides with every thrust. his brow pinches together in a way that makes him look rougher, and meaner—even if all he truly wants to do is to make you feel good and play with your body. The look that washes over his face when he begins to properly fuck into you could fool just about anyone..

His calloused palms grip the back of your calves, his fingers curling around your flesh, his eyes fluttering as he feels your walls suck him in deeper. Warm, wet, and convulsing against his cock that pummels into that squishy spot nestled upward in your entrance. He knows exactly how to move to get you squirming and mewling; it’s easy for him to fuck you into a puddle of fluids—he does it every time. He pushes down on your limbs to fold you in half, and keens when he feels how much tighter the position makes your cunt. He nearly whimpers.

“Fuck, ohh—fuck!—“ he withers atop you for only a moment, slowing down with a shudder so he doesn’t finish too soon, “You feel so good..getting me close..take my dick—just like that—you’re gonna make me come..”

He swallows around a low growl, and you watch as his toned abdomen visibly flex each time he roughly feeds his length to your pussy. The way he relentlessly bumps, it’s almost uncomfortable, but the boiling pleasure collecting in your gut drowns out everything other than how much you’re feeling and how wrecked you both sound while he keeps you in place. His right hand leaves your leg, knowing you won’t move a muscle without him coaxing you into a new position, and begins messily swiping his fingertips over your swollen clit. Your back arches up like you’re being shocked and he smirks in that devilish way he always does when he knows he’s doing something right. It’s cocky. It’s arrogant. His tip catches on a soft area inside your pussy before wholly slotting into it. The slap of skin-on-skin is obscene. He moves so fast it’s like he’s vibrating. A flood of heat laps at every nerve in your frame, and you let out a broken cry as the very last thing you hear before your ears start to ring from the ecstasy is the sound of him chuckling and cooing.

“Feels that good, doesn’t it? God it’s like you’re trying to milk me,” He lets his gaze wander down your lower body as his digits circle your bud and his glistening shaft slides in and out, covered in your release, “Love the way you sound when you come..it’s got me throbbing, you know that?”

Then his eyes fix on something that doubles—no, triples—the satisfaction he feels and causes his eyes to adjust. The sight of his curved cock pushing up from the inside of you and causing your lower belly to subtly bulge out. He licks over his lower lip, his jaw slacking. He moans, broken and higher in pitch than moments before, then his free hand leaves your other leg and moves to press down over the focus of his affection. His knees shake on the mattress when he feels himself bury deep in your overstimulated pussy.

“I feel myself fucking you,” he breathlessly gasps, his orgasm rushing from base to tip, his milky load rising ready to paint you, “C’mere—touch—fuck, fuck..“

In the last few desperate pumps of his hips that he gives you, he scrambles for your hand that fists the sheets and replaces his touch on your stomach with your own. He watches the way you writhe and hiccup as you revel in the way your pussy is being used like a toy. he throws his head back, his pelvis snaps against yours, and then it’s all over.

“Coming,” he huffs in a drawn-out cry, and you get to feel every kick of his release under your hand. Thump, thump, thump, throb, throb, throb under your palm. It’s never-ending; it almost makes you wail. You gather all of the remaining strength in your brain to watch as Noctis’s face crumple with every wave of his climax, his head dropping back down. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are squeezed shut, his nose is crinkling with the effort of remaining upright and not collapsing over your chest.

He sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, hissing, when he gets to the tail end of his orgasm. The sensitivity becomes too much, and he can’t handle the way you continue to spasm around his softening length. His cheeks puff out as he blows a steady breath of air, trying to get the room to stop spinning, and in the next instant he’s looking down to your face. His hands slide up your torso and cup the sides of your neck before he leans down and kisses you. His tongue licks languidly against yours, smearing his spit over your palate. You feel him groan into your open mouth. He only pulls away once he’s gotten his fill—once he’s tasted and swallowed enough of your whining to sate him for the rest of the night (or so you think). His gaze is hazy when he looks down into your eyes. His cock twitches at the sight of your spent expression, then that dumb, snarky smirk is back.

“So good for me,” he hums, “Flip over and ill give you two more?”

The heavy nod of your head that follows is all he needs to get his arousal stirring again.

— ʚɞ

Quiet Down

Noctis Lucis Caelum x Reader

Content: Noctis trying to keep you quiet.

Wanings:🍋

[1,561 words]

      Regalia hums under you, miles of open highway stretching out into dusky green hills. The sun is soft, the windows down. In the backseat, Prompto hums along to the radio while Ignis quietly scrolls through maps, one leg crossed over the other.

      Noctis is driving. One hand on the wheel. The other… isn’t.

      You’re in the passenger seat, trying to look relaxed like nothing out of the ordinary is happening.

      Like the crown prince of Lucis doesn’t have his fingers between your legs right now, hidden beneath your dress. You breathe slowly, eyes fixed on the horizon.

      He doesn’t even look at you, his profile calm, hair ruffling slightly in the breeze. His lips twitch, just barely.

      His fingers move with maddening precision, rubbing lazy circles over your clit, just light enough to make your thighs twitch. You shift slightly, pressing down into his hand, needing more. He hums in amusement.

      He gives you one slow stroke between your folds, then slides a single finger inside you. You tense, heart pounding, breath caught.

      Ignis leans forward between the seats suddenly. You freeze.

      “Noct,” he says, voice steady. “Turn left up ahead. The road forks into a dirt trail that leads to a campsite.”

      “Cool,” Noctis replies easily, giving a small nod. He doesn’t stop touching you. Doesn’t even slow down.

      You’re dying. Prompto chirps from the back, completely unaware, “Man, I could totally go for Cup Noodles tonight.”

      You almost laugh, but it comes out more like a strangled gasp. Noctis curls his finger just right, and you grip the edge of your seat so hard your knuckles ache. Sweat beads at your temple. You glance toward the back, Ignis is focused on the map again, Prompto has headphones in, Gladiolus is taking a well deserved nap.

      No one knows. You feel his breath near your ear as he leans slightly closer, voice dark with amusement.

      “Imagine if they saw what a mess you are right now. Soaking wet, squirming, trying to stay quiet. Such a good girl.”

      The praise goes straight to your core. You clench around his fingers involuntarily, and he lets out a sharp exhale. He picks up the pace, subtle and efficient, each stroke measured and cruelly quiet. You’re trembling now, legs tight, breaths shallow. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

      Your release hits without warning, rushing over you in a silent wave of heat and muscle. You squeeze your thighs together, trying not to make a sound, biting the inside of your cheek until your vision blurs.

      Noctis finally slows. His fingers slide out, soaked. He casually brings his hand to his mouth, licks one knuckle clean. You whip your head toward him, eyes wide.

      He shrugs, smirking. “Gotta keep my hands clean while I drive.”

      You try to breathe normally. From the backseat, Prompto looks up, cheerful as ever.

      “Hey, why’s your face all red?”

      You glare forward. “Sunburn.”

      Noctis just laughs under his breath and takes the next left.

      The car’s engine clicks softly as it cools, the scent of warm metal and dirt drifting through the air. You step out on unsteady legs, stretching like nothing’s wrong. Like Noctis didn’t make you come in the front seat twenty minutes ago with three of his best friends less than three feet away.

      You’re still slick between your thighs. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers when you move. And when you glance at him over the roof of the car, he’s smirking, just faintly. That same infuriating, knowing look he gave you when he licked his fingers clean without shame.

      “Come on,” Ignis calls out, already unloading the gear. “The sooner we eat, the sooner we can rest.”

      Noctis stretches, cracking his neck lazily. “Mm. Yeah. Tired.”

      You roll your eyes. He is not tired.

      You help Gladiolus set up the tents, trying to stay busy. But every time you bend down, you feel his eyes on you. When you sit around the fire, you catch him across the flames, eyes half-lidded, staring like he’s still got his hand under your hoodie.

      He hasn’t touched you since the car.

      Prompto’s babbling about something, a new camera filter, but you’re only half-listening. You can’t concentrate when Noctis is sitting next to you, knees brushing yours, close enough to smell the warmth of his hoodie.

      Then his fingers brush your hand. Just once. You shoot him a look. His eyes are focused on the fire, face completely blank. He does it again. This time slower, fingers gliding along your palm like a secret. You flush, hard, but before you can snap back, Ignis stands. “I’ll clean the dishes. Don’t stay up too late.”

      Prompto yawns. “I’m crashing. Got, like, zero sleep last night.”

      Noctis raises a brow. “You snored for seven hours straight.”

      “Yeah, but it wasn’t restful,” Prom whines, disappearing into the tent. Gladiolus was already knocked out cold. Now it’s just the two of you.

      The silence is immediate. The only sounds are the distant crickets and the soft crackle of the fire. You glance at Noctis. He’s already staring.

      “You gonna keep teasing me all night?” you murmur, voice low.

      His lips twitch. “Thought I was being subtle.”

      “You were not.”

      He shifts, closer now, arm brushing yours. “You liked it.”

      “I liked it when I could actually touch you,” you shoot back, eyes narrowing.

      That does it. He leans in, slow and deliberate, his voice like smoke. “Car. Now. Or I swear to the Six, I’ll take you right here.”

      Your heart stutters. “You wouldn’t.”

      “Try me.”

      You stare at him, eyes narrowing in hard. He didn’t look like he was bluffing. “Fine.”

      Regalia creaks slightly as Noctis slides into the back seat with you, the car doors barely clicking shut. It’s past midnight. The fire’s out. The others are asleep in their tents just a few feet away. And yet, here you are, pressed against black leather, Noctis’ hand sliding under your shirt.

      “This is a bad idea,” you whisper, breath shaky.

      His mouth finds your neck. “Then stop me.”

      You don’t. In fact, you grab a fistful of his hoodie and tug him closer, kissing him like you’ve been starving for it. You kind of have. All day he’d been stealing glances at you from the driver’s seat. His hand brushing your thigh during pit stops. That smirk when you caught him checking out your legs while pretending to clean his glaive.

      Now, he’s not pretending anything. His palm cups your breast, thumb teasing over your nipple through your bra. You gasp but his hand shoots up to your mouth, muffling it instantly.

      “No sound,” he whispers, his voice all gravel and heat. “They’ll hear.”

      Your thighs clench at the command in his tone. You nod. He kisses you again slower this time, more deliberate. Like he’s savoring it. His hand dips between your legs, and you’re already wet. embarrassingly so. His smirk is smug against your lips.

      “Fuck, baby…” he breathes. “You’re soaked. Is this all from sneaking around?”

      “Maybe,” you mutter, already breathless. “You’re hot when you’re bossy.”

      He huffs a soft laugh. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

      But his fingers slip under your waistband anyway, stroking you in slow, devastating circles. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. Then he’s tugging your pants down just enough, shifting you onto your back across the seat. It’s cramped, awkward, and still the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

      He kneels between your legs, head low, breath hot against your thigh.

      “You sure about this?” he murmurs.

      You thread your fingers through his messy hair and pull. “Get over here, Prince.”

      He doesn’t need more convincing. Noctis pushes inside you slow, burying himself inch by inch, stifling his groan against your shoulder. The car creaks faintly again, but it’s drowned out by your sharp inhale and the way your nails dig into his back. He moves slow at first, trying to be careful, trying to stay quiet. But the tighter you squeeze around him, the harder it gets to behave. His lips brush your ear.

      “Don’t. Make. A. Sound,” he growls, hips snapping a little harder each time.

      You nod frantically, barely able to think, let alone speak. Your legs tremble around his waist as he fucks you slow and deep, hand covering your mouth when a particularly rough thrust makes you keen.

      “Gods, you feel so good,” he pants. “I’ve wanted this all day. All week.”

      You want to tell him you’ve wanted this since you first saw him asleep in the car, mouth parted, shirt riding up to show a sliver of skin, but you can’t form words. You can only cling to him, biting down on his shoulder as your climax builds like fire under your skin. He feels it, the way you tighten around him. He picks up the pace, rougher now, barely restrained.

      You come hard, back arching, head thrown back against the cool leather. He follows a moment later, hips grinding deep, breath caught in his throat as he pulses inside you.

      When it’s over, he collapses onto your chest, both of you heaving, slick with sweat and sin.

      Silence.

      Then—

      “Next time,” Ignis’s muffled voice calls from outside the tent, “at least try to cast a silence spell.”

featuring cloud, Zack, Sephiroth, reno, noctis, & prompto

tags: SFW, fluff, gn!reader (can be read as any skin tone! I don't use any descriptions for the reader!), noctis ended up being long lmao

ᯓ NOCTIS’ love is unusual, a kind of love that’s like an inside joke only the two of you are privy to. a warm kind of string between you both, plucked with the most unconventional timing.