Was there ever any question as to
what Noctis’ car would be? As much as he loves the Regalia, it’s not the same
when the R8 boasts a V10 engine that can hit 0 to 60 in 3.2 seconds with a top
speed of 205mph, almost triple that of the Regalia.
The first time Noct picks you up in
his convertible R8 Spyder you raise a skeptical brow at him. It’s impractical
(only seats 2, no hard roof), it’s loud (man does that engine roar) and to
top it off, it’s ostentatious (the sleek supercar sticks out like a sore thumb,
even in downtown Insomnia). The car is the exact opposite of your Prince.
But boy does he love this car. When
you first get in, you’re hesitant, but the moment Noct grins wickedly at you – an expression you rarely see – and revs the
engine, something within you snaps. His cocksure smirk along with the hard
vibrations of the V10 does something delicious to you; your thighs already
squirming together in anticipation.
Once you’re out of Insomnia and on open
roads, the car comes to life, roaring across the plains. Noctis shifts through
the gears seamlessly, the look of sheer concentration and wicked delight on his
face is something you’d never forget.
Top down, wind in your hair as you
take in the beautiful scenery under the starlit sky, you begin to
appreciate the Prince’s impractical choice in cars. But what you really love about the car, is this other side it
brings out of Noct.
Usually quiet and reserved, the car
seems to bring about his more untamed self. He’s
more open with you, a little more talkative, a little more mischievous,
something you used to only see when he interacts with his closest friends.
Right when you reach your
destination, a lonely plateau in Duscae overlooking nothing but wilderness,
Noct is on you. His hands, lips, body. Before you know it he’s pulled you
roughly on to his lap. You’re straddling his hard length as he desperately
tries to undo your jeans with an eagerness that sends a jolt of desire straight
to your core.
There is a certain intoxicating
exhilaration in riding the Prince of Lucis into a shuddering orgasm out in the
At the end of the night, you’re
convinced you love the car almost as much as Noct does. The next time he picks
you up, you’re properly dressed, flowy skirt sans undergarments.
Prompto | tokyobike Classic Sport Bicycle
Prompto is all about animals and exercise,
so you’re not surprised that his choice mode of transportation is by bicycle (Why
pollute when you can exercise and help the environment in one fell swoop?).
It’s quite minimalistic and really only seats one. When he arrives, brow damp
with sweat, slightly out of breath and little bike bell going “ring-a-ding-ding,” you can’t help but think a) how adorable he looks pedaling up
to you and b) how the hell were you and the picnic basket were going to fit?
Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says as he proudly pulls out a single tulip for
you (Where had he even been hiding that?!). You’re flattered, but what makes
your heart flutter is the expression on his face as he hands it to you - open,
earnest, and happy; happy to see your smile grow at his small gesture.
few minutes of fidgeting, somehow Prompto manages to strap the basket on to the
back of his bicycle and somehow you manage to sit sideways along the bar in
front of him. It’s not comfortable by any means, but being trapped between
Prompto’s arms, his breath hot against your ear, as he pedals to your
destination more than makes up for the slight discomfort.
you both go, on a wobbly start. The journey takes a little longer than usual
and you feel a little guilty that Prompto’s carrying all the weight, but he wont
switch with you, no matter how much you insist. “It’s good exercise!”
he chirps cheerily as he continues to pedal.
time you arrive at the park, Prompto’s drenched in sweat, but you don’t care.
You’re flustered and a little impatient from having his hot breath against your
neck the whole ride. You pull him by the collar for a kiss. Surprised, he
sputters a “W-wow,” face tinged with a pretty blush as he leans in
picnic lies forgotten. You need him, now.
A little sweat never bothered you anyways.
Gladiolus | Mercedes-Benz G65 SUV
Gladiolus pulls up next to you in his tank of a car, you almost burst out
laughing because, of course he’d
drive a Mercedes G65. Between the car and his smug, “Hop in, baby girl,” you’re
not sure if you want to hide or melt. Fifteen minutes into the ride, you realize
that the former was probably the better choice.
you grip onto the door for your dear life, the only thought that runs through
your head is “Gladio drives like a freaking maniac!” When he had
asked you to go on an “adventure” this was not what you had in mind. Traffic signals? Who needs them. Roads? Those
are for the weak. Animals and/or pedestrians? Road kill. Seriously though, as
much as you love this man, there’s no way in hell he’s driving you anywhere
you arrive at your destination deep in the Nebulawood in record time (“The
roads are too out of the way, it’s faster if we just cut through.”) Gladio
feels a little guilty at how pallid your skin appears so he lets you rest in
the car as he sets up camp. When you’ve recovered enough to join him, you’re
surprised to find Gladio dozing off in a folding chair, his book hanging
dangerously off his lap. Good, you
think, because he’s not getting any sleep
attempt to wake him with a surprise, but his amber eyes open before you could
get started and the next thing you know he has you pinned against the tree with
your hands restrained above you. Smirking, he says, “I was in a rush to get us
here so we’d have a little extra time together for the nice dinner I planned
out…and maybe something more. But if you want to skip ahead, I’m more than
happy to indulge you.”
he hooks your legs around his waist, grinding his length into your core, all
you could think was, Screw dinner, I’m
having you tonight.
Ignis | He’s blind, he doesn’t drive Volvo S90 Sedan
ever asked, perfect is the one word you’d use to describe Ignis. Perfectly
coiffed hair, perfectly pressed shirt, perfectly refined eloquence, perfectly
perfect. His car, of course, while understated and much more practical compared
to that of his friends, is also perfectly Ignis.
the need for speed or off-roading, the Volvo S90 is indeed the perfect car for
Ignis. It’s understated and classy with its beige leather and pine wood accent,
equipped with state-of-the-art touchscreen technology, loaded with more options
than you would ever need, but essential for the adviser to the Prince.
you get in the car, classical music from the Insomnia Philharmonic is already gently
playing from its superb speakers. Ignis hums quietly along, tapping his fingers
on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the piece. Between that and Ignis’ smooth
driving you’re quickly lulled into a peaceful slumber.
arrival at Cape Caem, Ignis wakes you with a gentle, “Kitten, we’ve arrived,”
holding out his hand to help you from the vehicle as he wraps a cashmere throw
around your shoulders to keep you warm.
you’ve made your way down to the beach, you spend the next few minutes watching
the sunset with his arms wrapped around you. It is so perfect you feel like
you could die…if not for your grumbling stomach. You tense at the sound it
makes, hoping Ignis doesn’t notice, but relax as Ignis snaps his fingers and
mumbles, “I knew I forgot something.”
decidedly unlady-like snort escapes you as you turn around to kiss him. Ignis
wasn’t perfect all the time, but he was perfect for you.
Nyx | BMW R nine T Pure Motorcycle
You almost kick Nyx off his ride the first time he “picks you
up” because that’s exactly what he tries to do – holler at
you as if you were a two-bit whore. He stops his bike (albeit impressively) one
foot away from you and whistles loudly, catcalling as if you were a piece
of meat. With his face obscured by his helmet, you almost knock the offending
asshole onto the ground until you notice that his leather jacket is
suspiciously familiar and that those boots were definitely Kingsglaive issued.
As Nyx removes his helmet, shaking his braids free and running
his hand through his hair, you are torn between throttling him and taking him
now. If you thought you had it bad before, boy are you in for a rude awakening.
He’s clad in all black: cotton V-neck shirt underneath worn leather jacket,
leather gloves over calloused hands and, the best part, tight jeans that show
off the thickness of his thighs…among other
"Get on,” he orders as he
throws you a helmet. You let him boss you around, just this once (Who are you kidding? You secretly love
it when he’s demanding), because you’re just as impatient as him to have your
arms around him. Once you’re on and situated, he doesn’t wait to take off,
swerving in and out of traffic fifty above the speed limit. Your only option is
to hold on to him for your dear life, and when he chuckles at the tightening of
your embrace as he speeds all the faster, you know this asshole planned this
But you can’t complain, not really.
It’s an easy excuse to enjoy the burning heat of his body, the hard planes of
his chest, and the sweet intoxicating musk of his scent – fire, sweat, and cedar mixed
into something uniquely Nyx.
Once you’re past city limits and
feeling brave enough, you throw your arms up in the air, exalting in the
feeling of freedom and adrenaline as Nyx carries you off into the dusk. Being
the cheeky bastard that he is, Nyx suddenly brakes causing you to let out a
scream as your chest slams against his back and your hands slam down in panic,
grasping the closest thing in reach. He laughs so loudly, you can feel the
rumble of his chest against yours, as he says, “If you’re that eager, I have no
problem making you scream again, right here, right now.”
Your first thought is, “WHAT?” and your second is, “Oh. Oh…” when you realize you’re grasping
the junctures of his thighs, fingers brushing the inner parts (where he’s most
sensitive) and the growing bulge of his erection. You grow silent as you hotly
blush, unsure of how to respond because wow, this is moving all too fast for
Nyx chuckles, for the second time
today, at your expense and says teasingly, “Don’t worry. I don’t put out on the