† SUMMARY: Noah discovers Y/N's social media page and his obsession sparks. Noah then hires his friend, Nicholas Ruffilo, to track her data just from her posts. †
**
† “DON'T RUN, LITTLE MOUSE.” †
† “WHAT IS PEACE OF MIND?” †
January 12th, 2026. 10:16 a.m.
To anyone this would seem as if it were a normal day.
Except for her.
A social media influencer, @ justagirl-xo.
why was this day so strange?
A private Instagram user, no bio, no profile picture, nothing.
This unknown user started mass liking, commenting, and saving her posts.
But, why?
She was just your average influencer.
Her eyes, her hair, her curves-
Everything about her was divine. I had to claim her. I had to know everything.
She will be mine.
I tended to keep a low profile…until she posted it.
warnings: +18/obsession/belonging/desire to possess/swearing/teasing/difficult relationship/silent love/hurt/escape/pain/uncertainty/tough experiences
You said they’d be against us.
I say: "you care too much what they say".
You said: “Do me a favor, gimme some faith."
This is not a story about escape.
It’s a story about choice.
Nyx desires his darkness, but Noah must learn to control it.
Noah will give her everything, but only if she stays with him.
Between them there are no promises — only obsession, awareness, and consent.
Because sometimes the only refuge is the one you allow to own you.
No escape. Only us.
Iris/Nyx
Noah
Prologue. / Chapter I / Chapter || / Chapter III / Chapter IV / Chapter V / Chapter VI / Chapter VII / Chapter VIII
† WARNINGS: STALKING, HIDDEN CAMERAS, MASTURBATION (M/F), DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER (DID), I did not proofread btw † ★if I missed anything, please let me know.
† WC: 1.1k †
† SUMMARY: Noah discovers Y/N's social media page and his obsession sparks. Noah then hires his friend, Nicholas Ruffilo, to track her data just from her posts. †
**
*a/n:I had a HUGE writers block while writing this so this is quite a short chapter and I had to write a majority of this on my phone. Also, this series will alternate between POVS, Noah's perspective will be the only first person POV.
**
† “DON'T RUN, LITTLE MOUSE.” †
† “WHAT IS PEACE OF MIND?” †
January 15th, 2026.
12:32 a.m.
“Lights, Camera, Action..”
It was late, and she desperately needed sleep.
Y/N was not only an Instagram influencer, she also worked at the local strip club. As a stripper herself.
Walking out those doors felt like relief. Counting the wad of cash in her hands, lipstick smeared over her face.
She wrapped her fur coat around herself tightly, covering up her rhinestone lingerie.
So, so oblivious.
Her heart starts to race. She has an eerie feeling, walking alone at night.
The same walk she's walked a million times before.
So, why did this time feel odd?
Maybe it was the man she met earlier today.
January 15th, 2026.
6:54 p.m.
++ Private Room ++
She was sitting on the couch which was centered in the middle of the room, waiting for a new client to show up and sign the contract. She had rules. No physical attachments, Blood work, required. No questions asked. She preferred to be careful.
Soon a tall- very tall- man entered the room. “Sebastian Davis… correct?” Little to her knowledge this man who goes by, Sebastian Davis, just found her home address, moments prior.
“Yes.”, he says, voice low- a grin slowly growing upon his face.
“Perfect, let’s get started then, shall we?”
It was the perfect plan.
She wasn't supposed to be home for another several hours, so I took the opportunity.
I need her.
….
Ring! Ring! Ring!
….
“Noah?” a low, tired- as if just awoken- voice answers.
“Nicholas. I need your help.” I had little to say, attempting to prevent revealing my fucked up plan but Nicholas already knew what I was going to attempt.
She isn't my first victim but she may be my last.
I crave her.
“Another one? Really, man?”
I couldn't help but watch her.
I was in my car, down the street near her home address, laptop on my lap with a live video recording of her and my cock in my hand.
The various sex toys on her vanity as she held a rose toy to her clit.
Then she pulled it away. My hand paused.
Was this fucked up?
Very.
Did I care?
No, not really.
I had then realized, she's edging herself. But I'm not patient like her, so I slowly started to stroke again.
And then- after what feels like hours, she shoves a dildo- just large enough to make you feel full, up her tight cunt.
I can hear the squelches through the hidden cameras.
And, fuck.
I let out a loud moan in my car as I continued to watch the camera on my laptop.
Hot cum spilt all over my hand and keyboard as I pant.
That was the fastest- and best, might I add, orgasm I've ever had.
Soon after she came herself and shut her vibrator off.
Her heavy breaths filled the room, oblivious to the audience she has.
She will be mine.
My headlights shine against the pavement of the road.
My laptop is in my passenger seat as I drive home.
My phone rings and I assume it's Nicholas, I press the answer button without looking and take my eyes off the empty road for a second to put my phone on speaker before paying attention again.
“Hello?” a familiar female voice answers.
Fuck. Y/N.
“Sebastian Davis, speaking. May I ask who this is?” I ask automatically, as if I cannot recognize her soft voice.
“Hi, it's Y/N. We met earlier tonight. Everything came back negative, meet me whenever you can and we can work out a schedule that accommodates you.” She spoke, voice heavenly.
“Sounds good. Thank you.” I hung up and tried to ignore my growing erection.
And finally, I've arrived at Nicholas'.
I know he'll help me take her.
You can't run from me, little mouse.
Her screams bring pleasure to my twisted fantasies.
So oblivious to who is holding her captive.
All she sees is him.
The mask.
I call him, “Friend.”
When I wear the mask it's as if I'm no longer in control. Friend takes over.
And I let him.
It's nice to be feared.
And when she finally sees the man underneath, she'll love me.
She has to love me. I’ll be all she has left.
Right?
I can't breathe.
I feel like I'm drowning.
This feels like death.
A slow agonizing death.
Friend? Friend, are you there?
Please take over.
It's too much-
*
I wake gasping.
It was just a dream. But it had seemed…so real.
I slip out of bed and head to my bathroom.
My home is so empty. I'm so alone.
I just need someone to love me.
But I'll never admit that.
Only Friend knows.
And it'll stay like that.
I stare at myself in the mirror as I attempt to recollect myself, calm myself so I can go back to sleep.
He's laughing at me.
“Quit it.” I mumble, Friend knows I'm addressing him. His laughter grows louder and more frenzied.
“Enough!” My shout echoes throughout the large bathroom.
Finally- it goes quiet.
And finally I gain enough courage to look at it.
The mask- the mask that puts Friend in charge.
“C’mon, Noah. Don't be a puss. You know you want it.” The agonizing voice in my head laughs maniacally.
“I can't. You'll do more than necessary.” I say through gritted teeth, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
“Do. It.” Friend demands.
I take a deep breath, restraining myself from doing as Friend instructs and going back to my bedroom.
I lay in bed, unable to fall back asleep as Friend’s laughs echo in my head.
I stare blankly at the ceiling as Friend continues to taunt me, “Please stop.” I whisper, restricting the tears from spilling.
“Awe? Is the big bad stalker going to cry?” I snap.
I huff and get up, returning to the bathroom, I look at the mirror before grabbing the mask.
“Here you go, Friend.”
I pull the mask over my face before I feel as if I'm being pulled back and unable to control any choices that are made but I'm forced to witness everything.
Noah just can’t help but get off to the sound of your voice.
CW: includes themes of obsession/stalking, masturbation, implied sexual coercion, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degradation and humiliation, obsessed bestfriend!noah, stalker!noah vibes.
NSFW'ish under the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.
You can’t pinpoint when the phone calls started—only that they’ve somehow become a random yet regular occurrence. They never last long, usually just a few seconds to a minute or so, and the sounds on the other end range from something muffled to heavy breathing, sometimes even a soft whine. It’s easy for your imagination to wander, to try and picture what might be happening on the other end, and still, you keep answering, your voice growing more frustrated each time, shifting from a cautious “Hello?” to a firm “Stop calling me, you creep!”
Not that it works. If anything, it seems to spur them on, like your voice only entices them further—the string of insults you hurl acting as fuel, as if you might somehow shame them into going away.
It’s easy to label the caller a stalker, some pervert who won’t leave you alone. What you don’t know is that it’s your best friend—Noah.
His obsession with you has been building slowly, insidiously, and he’s not even sure what set it off. Maybe it was the first time he called while jerking off to the thought of you. He hadn’t meant to, not really, but the moment you answered—your voice soft and unsuspecting, he came almost instantly. A pathetic, muffled whine slipped past his lips as he pumped his cock, thick spurts of cum landing across his stomach and chest. You’d sounded so clueless, asking “Hello?” while all he could do was breathe heavily and try not to let you hear how hard he was falling apart on the other end of the line.
After that, it became an addiction. The calls were his fix—his one surefire way to get off. He’s jerked off to a lot when it comes to you: pictures, a pair of panties he stole, the hoodie you once wore and gave back smelling like you, even a scrunchie he wrapped around his cock like some makeshift cock ring. He’s watched you touch yourself through the crack in your bedroom door when he stayed over—pretending to be asleep in the guest room, the image seared into his memory forever, but this is different. This is better.
Your voice, the way it starts off sweet and soft, only to twist into something sharp and angry—that’s what ruins him. The degradation, the disgust, the way you spit venom like you mean it. You have no idea that on the other end of the line, Noah is cumming all over himself to the sound of your voice. Sometimes he doesn’t even stop. He keeps going, overstimulating himself, making an absolute mess as your words echo in his ears, and you still don’t know.
You’re none the wiser, save for the heavy breaths and those pitiful sounds. He’ll keep doing it, he thinks, for as long as he can. His dirty little secret.
Bsf! Noah who is secretly a perv and gets off to the thought of you all the time, Often thinking about your exposed thighs, your scent, the way your hips sway when you walk, or the way your body presses against his when you hug or cuddle. Anything about you is enough to get him off (But then he learns the others feel the same way)
I’ve been thinking a lot about obsessed bestfriend!noah and what a little perv he actually is. And it’s only fitting that this thot be paired with this one.
It started innocently enough, the faintest trace of your scent was all he needed, and stealing articles of your clothing for his own purpose was enough to satiate his desires, but it’s escalated. Now, Noah studies every inch of you the moment you walk into the room.
His eyes drink you in like he’s starving, memorising everything. When you hug, he holds you for just that little bit longer, pressing his body firmly against yours under the guise of comfort or warmth, committing to memory how perfectly you fit against him, the way his hands naturally settle on your hips, how easily you melt into his lap when he pulls you down with the excuse of there being no other seat.
When you subtly adjust your clothes, crossing your legs or tugging your shirt lower, thinking you’re being discreet—he’s already seen more than you meant to show. Just a glimpse, but it’s enough to feed into his dark, obsessive overactive imagination.
There are nights where he can barely make it back to his bunk or hotel room before he’s palming himself through his pants, desperate and breathless at the thought of you. Every little about you plays on repeat in his mind like his own personal porno.
Noah believes he’s careful, that he hides it well, sure that no one has noticed—especially not you, until one night in the venue showers.
They’re empty when he arrives, his body still buzzing with adrenaline after the show. Your body is fresh in his memory from when you hugged him backstage—your arms around his neck, your chest pressed to his sweat-slicked skin, and he unravels to the thought of you, your name spills through his lips. “Tell me you’re mine… say no one else gets to have you like I do…” and that’s all it takes for someone to overhear, for his little secret obsession to come out, and instead of teasing or mockery, what comes next is admission; they all feel the same.
Yandere!Noah who appears sweet and protective to everyone else, but behind closed doors, his obsession runs far deeper than you could ever imagine. He’s memorized your routine, what time you wake up, the scent of your shampoo, every little detail about you. It’s all part of his controlling nature. He uses this knowledge to manipulate your emotions until he feels like home, like he’s the only person you could ever have a real, lasting connection with.
Yandere!Noah who is openly affectionate, always laying a possessive hand on your waist, the back of your neck, or the small of your back, but when someone looks at you a little too long or stands a little too close, his touch changes—tightens—becomes more of a warning. And later that night, when he has you all to himself, beneath him, writhing in pleasure as he grows rougher, more relentless, he leans in and growls in your ear, “Do they still think they can have you? Let me remind you who you belong to.”
Yandere!Noah whose jealousy runs deep, but he never snaps in the moment, he lets it simmer until you’re alone, where he makes sure you remember him and only him. His touches turn demanding, his kisses bruising, his voice low and dangerous as he whispers, “Say it. Say my name. Let me hear who you really want.”
Yandere!Noah who turns to emotional blackmail the moment you argue or threaten to leave. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane. If I lost you… I don’t know what I’d do.” He twists those words to how he sees fit, using your guilt against you until whatever anger you held melts away.
Yandere!Noah who sabotages anything and anyone that might take you away from him. Missed job interviews, friendships that suddenly go cold, your phone ‘mysteriously’ going missing. He cuts you off from the outside world piece by piece—until you’re convinced that he’s all you really need.
Yandere!Noah who obsesses over every detail of your time together, but especially the moment you first met. He goes out of his way to recreate it again and again, even if you never fully notice. In his mind, that was when everything changed, where he fell in love, and—in his mind—was the moment you fell for him too.
Yandere!Noah who would do absolutely anything to keep you—even if it means going to dangerous, unthinkable extremes. You’ll never know what or when he’s planning something because he always looks so calm, but deep down, you know one thing: when Noah makes a threat, it’s never empty.
