kate 🪐

loser men enthusiast, vampire lover

[k8fics]

NAVIGATION REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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[ivoirerose]

picture perfect | valarr targaryen

summary: valarr has always wanted you, but you've never let him get close. he accepts this like the good prince he is, until one day he stumbles upon your secret and uses it to his advantage

warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, brief mention of sex, dark!valarr, mention of murder/blood, illicit affair, it's insinuated that you're related but not explicitly stated in what way, no description of reader except silver hair

Valarr, who has always been the picture perfect heir. He's kind and chivalrous and patient, firmly on the side of sanity in the Targaryen coin toss.

Except, sometimes, when it comes to you. He hides it well, his little obsession, behind polite smiles and gentle touches. Even when you brush him off, when he sees you dancing too long with some northern lord. Even when it burns him inside.

He understands. You're a princess. A maiden. Your image has to be as perfect as his. There can be no question when it comes to your virtue, and he tells himself that's why you act uninterested, why you don't fall at his feet like every other woman in the kingdom.

He convinces himself that no matter how much you want him too, and he's sure you do, things have to be done properly. Formally.

And that's exactly what he's coming to talk to you about that night, the night he finds your door unguarded, ajar, candlelight spilling through the gap and illuminating a small slice of the hallway.

At first, he panics, ready to rush into the room, hand gripping his sword and his heart pounding in his chest.

Then he hears it. Soft, so low that at first he tells himself his mind is playing tricks on him. Then it comes again.

Heavy breaths, your voice cracking as you moan, a little whimper that takes his breath away. His feet are moving before he even realises what he's doing, and he's looking through that gap, and he sees you, your dim silhouette moving on the bed, bare skin he's only dreamt of touching, and you're letting some knight desecrate it.

Royal skin, flush with dragon's blood, with his blood. Rough hands are tangled in your silver hair, pulling, and you like it. He's never felt like this before, this heat, this energy, this rage. He has nowhere to put it, no way to tame this beast that's reared its head, and he briefly wonders if this is what Aerion feels like all the time. He almost understands why his cousin thinks himself a dragon. Valarr feels like he could breathe flames right now.

He's seconds from storming into your room, from painting it Targaryen red, when he stops. Thinks. He's always been good at thinking.

And he plans. And then he backs away, into the night, and he waits.

It's a week before he can corner you alone. He catches you in your room after dinner, your maid dismissed, concern written clear across his face as you let him in. He avoids glancing at your bed, pushing down the image of what he saw there just nights ago. He forces himself to pull back his anger. He has to stay composed if he wants this to work.

It has to work.

He quiet for a moment, stuttering. Like he's nervous, like he hasn't planned exactly what to say already.

He stumbles through his confession, watching as your expression grows more horrified by the second.

"...and so you see, I have no choice. I have to tell my father. A Knight of the Kingsguard, breaking his vows so carelessly. Taking your honour. It cannot be allowed to go unpunished."

There are tears in his eyes, pain etched into his features, performance so convincing that the gods would believe it.

You beg and you cry, and when you fall to your knees, he barely bites back a smirk.

"Please, Valarr. They'll kill him, you know they will," you sob, and he feels that heat flare up again as you beg for the life of your lover, for a nobody, for someone so beneath you it's laughable.

"Shh, sweet girl," he soothes, crouching before you, letting his fingers trace the tears on your cheeks. "He has broken his vows. He has tainted that which he swore to protect, he has poisoned your mind. The gods will give him the punishment he deserves."

"No! You don't understand, it's not like that. He's good, I swear it, please, I'll stop, we'll stop, I'll never even look at him again, just...please, do not do this."

You cling to him desperately, fingers tangling in his shirt, and he pretends to think. Lets you see the hesitation, dig your claws into it.

"Please, if you care for me at all, you will not tell. It would ruin me, Valarr."

He sighs, closes his eyes as he brings his forehead to yours. He lets you think you've won.

"It can never happen again."

"No! Never! I swear it!"

"And he'll be reassigned. He cannot be allowed to guard you, not anymore. I'll come up with something, some excuse."

You're nodding, eyes wide, and something inside of him purrs. He has you now, right where he wants you. Hook, line, and...

"And of course, it cannot be discovered that you are no longer a maiden. Think of the humiliation, the shame. Any proper lord would take one look at those perfectly white sheets on your wedding night and know that they had been deceived."

He lets the realisation weigh on you, the brief flare of panic darting back into your eyes.

"But I understand. How you were manipulated," he mumbles, voice soft, hand stroking down your neck, feeling your pulse quicken under his thumb. "I won't let this be your ruin. I'll speak to father. He'll propose the betrothal to yours, and we'll be wed before we know it. No one else has to ever know about this silly little mistake. I'll make sure of it."

You let your body fall into his, let him hold you. You know you have no other choice, that you've dug yourself into this hole, that Valarr alone can help get you out of it.

You bury your face against him, and he finally lets himself smile over your shoulder, lets the dragon inside of him out, just for a moment.

Sinker.

[k8fics]

OBSESSION

Modern!Obsessive!Valarr Targaryen x Reader

summary: (Y/n) has spent years trapped in a messy, emotionally charged situationship with Valarr Targaryen. But after a drunken birthday wish, Valarr’s feelings suddenly become impossible to ignore. (Inspired by Obsession 2026).

rating: E - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, dark fiction, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, manufactured love, emotional dependency & manipulation, loss of autonomy, psychological horror, reader is not a good person, possessive behavior, emotional distress, self-harm, emotional abuse, murder, coercive control, vomiting, mental breakdowns, blood, idk man everything ig

NAVIGATION | CHAPTER THREE

Duncan’s blood is drying on your skin.

You notice the smell first.

Metal. Wet carpet. The sharp bite of bleach from somewhere nearby. Your body is shaking so hard that your teeth keep clicking together.

Valarr’s hands are under your arms before you realize he’s moving.

“Come here, baby.”

You let him guide you down the hallway, your legs aren’t really yours anymore.

The bathroom light is too bright. It burns your eyes. Valarr lifts you onto the counter and steps between your knees. His shirt is smeared dark at the sleeves. He doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Look at me.”

You can’t.

He wets a washcloth under the faucet. The water runs pink.

“There we go,” he murmurs, wiping your cheek with impossible gentleness. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

The cloth pauses beneath your left eye.

“You won’t have to leave again after tonight,” he says softly, almost like a promise. “I’ll take care of everything. You can stay with me. I’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again.”

Your stomach twists. The faucet keeps running, pink water spirals down the drain.

You finally lift your eyes.

Over Valarr’s shoulder, through the bathroom doorway, you can see the edge of the living room.

Duncan’s hair.

Duncan’s eyes.

Still open.

Staring.

A sound escapes your throat before you can stop it.

Valarr immediately turns your face towards him. “Hey. Hey, you don’t need to look at that.” He cups your face with both hands. “Stay with me. Just look at me.”

He wipes another streak from your jaw. You hold your breath as you stare at the wallpaper with tiny blue flowers on it. Duncan complained about it when he first moved in. You remember laughing. You remember-

The cloth brushes your cheek.

You flinch, Valarr immediately freezes.

Valarr notices your expression, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He kisses your temple. His lips are warm. His hands are steady.

“You know I love you right?” He whispers

The words land in the room like a curse.

“You know that, right?”

-

He leaves you in the bathroom as he begins cleaning.

You hear his footsteps move through the apartment with frightening tranquility. Going through closets and cabinets. 

You lean to the side to look into the living room, Valarr works methodically, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight with concentration. Duncan is wrapped in the living room rug. The weight of the dead body shakes the floor every time Valarr lets go of it. You hear him struggling, grunting.

The sound of the rug scraping across the floor makes your skin crawl.

You slide from the counter, your legs nearly giving out. The world spins as you catch yourself on the sink.

You walk closer to the doorway, your eyes drift across the room.

The couch, the coffee table, a knocked-over lamp, the cracked-

Something small sticking out of Duncan’s overturned bag.

A long triangular box with large red text.

Slowly, you move towards it, picking it up.

The cardboard box feels heavy in your hand, the cartoon faces smile at you.

ONE WISH WILLOW

Your pulse stutters.

Duncan’s.

Unused. Still sealed.

Hope hits you so suddenly it hurts your chest.

It drops to your stomach as footsteps approach the front door.

Before you can think, you grab it and shove it beneath your sweater, pressing it against your stomach.

Valarr returns seconds later, breathing harder than before.

He doesn’t notice. If he does, he doesn’t say anything.

“Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s go.”

-

He carries you to the car.

You don’t remember the drive, only flashes.

Streetlights sliding across the windshield, Valarr’s hand on your knee. The box hidden underneath your sweater.

When he stops the car, you realize you’re on a bridge.

The river below is black and endless.

Valarr gets out. 

You hear the trunk open.

Then the sound of something heavy being dragged.

You don’t look up until the splash comes.

The impact echoes up from the water.

SPLASH

You flinch so hard your shoulder slams into the door.

Valarr returns a moment later, he slides into the driver’s seat and immediately reaches for you.

“Hey.” His thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. “Don’t cry, baby. It’s over.”

You stare at him.

Outside, the river keeps moving.

Inside, the One Wish Willow digs into your stomach like a splinter.

The drive home feels endless.

Neither of you speak.

The windshield wipers drag back and forth across the glass, smearing rainwater into distorted streaks of yellow and white. Every passing streetlight flashes across Valarr’s face.

Sometimes he looks normal.

Sometimes he doesn’t.

You stop looking.

Your fingers remain pressed against your stomach the entire drive.

Valarr notices eventually.

His hand slides over yours.

You nearly jump out of your skin.

“Cold?’

You don’t answer.

His thumb strokes your knuckles.

“You’ll feel better when we get home.”

You stare out the window, the river long gone now.

Duncan is long gone now, somewhere beneath black water.

You look at Valarr’s hands; steady, unshaking.

Lines of red beneath his fingernails.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

-

Valarr guides you upstairs, his hands on your waist. He turns your body to enter the bedroom.

He sets you carefully on bed, your back meeting the bed frame. Immediately, he drops to his knees beside you.

Checking your face, legs, and hands. Checking for injuries, for damage.

“Do you need anything?”

You shake your head.

“Water?”

No response.

“Food?”

No response.

“Are you still cold?”

No response.

His face falls slightly. It almost makes you feel bad.

Then you remember Duncan’s eyes. Still open, staring directly at you.

The guilt dies, fast.

Valarr reaches for your hands. You let him.

His hands are walm. Yours feel cold, almost numb.

“We’ll figure this out.”

The conviction in his voice is terrifying.

“It’s just us now.”

Something inside your chest cracks.

His smile returns, “Nobody is ever going to take you away from me again.”

You stare at him.

At the man you wished for. At the man you ruined.

The hidden One Wish Willow still presses against your ribs.

The second Valarr leaves the room to answer a phone call, you drop to your knees beside a dark wooden dresser. Your fingers shake so badly you nearly drop the triangular box.

The packaging catches against the wood. For a horrible second, you think it’s stuck. Then it disappears beneath the dresser.

You shove your foot under the dresser, pushing the box further back under the dresser just as footsteps approach.

-

The television stays on constantly, day and night. You don’t know why. Maybe Valarr thinks the noise helps. Maybe he’s afraid of silence. You don’t want to find out.

The room never becomes dark, never peaceful, never still.

Cartoons, sitcoms, romcoms, new reports, infomercials. The voices blur together.

You barely hear them anymore.

You stop eating, food simply stops making sense.

Valarr tries anyway.

The first night he makes your favorite meal. You watch him as he carries the plates upstairs. His face full of hope, like a child showing off a drawing.

“Look.”

He sets it in front of you, “I remembered extra cheese.”

The smell immediately turns your stomach.

You manager two bites. On the third, you vomit on your lap, on Valarr’s shirt he put you in after the bath he set for you a few hours before, in the plate of food he painstakingly made for you.

A second later, Valarr is beside you. Holding your hair, rubbing circle against your back.

“It’s okay.” His voice cracks.

You don’t know whether he’s comforting you or himself.

-

Every time.

Every fucking time you close your eyes, he’s there.

Duncan.

Just his eyes. Open, unmoving, staring directly at you.

You wake up screaming, Valarr nearly falls out of bed trying to reach you.

“Baby.”

His hands grab your face. “Baby?”

You can’t breathe. You can’t stop shaking.

You can’t stop seeing him.

“Duncan.”

The name slips out accidentally.

The room goes silent. Valarr freezes, just for a second, but you notice.

His hands stop moving, his expression goes blank. Completely blank, like someone unplugged him. 

The look lasts less than a heartbeat. Then it’s gone, replaced by panic.

But you’ve already seen it, and once you’ve saw it, you can’t stop seeing it.

-

You start paying attention. That horrible blank stare. A few seconds at a time, a glitch, a crack. A fracture running through whatever this thing has turned him into.

Maybe he’s just as trapped as you are.

The television is playing some sitcom you’ve seen a hundred times before. Someone says something funny, the audience erupts in laughter.

The sound makes your skin crawl.

Valarr sits beside you. His hand rests on your knee; his thumb moves in slow circles.

You stare at the screen, pretending to watch.

Then the movement stops. Slowly, you turn your head.

Valarr is staring at the television, completely motionless.

The room suddenly feels quieter.

“Valarr?”

Nothing, the sitcom audience laughs again.

“Valarr?”

His eyes slowly shift, meeting yours. “What day is it?”

The question catches you off guard, “What?”

“What day is it?” His voice sounds rough, like he hasn’t spoken in years.

Your heart hammers, “Thursday, I-I think.”

Valarr stares, the muscles in his jaw twitch.

“What happened?” The words barely leave his mouth.

You sit upright, “What do you mean?”

His eyes narrow, not at you, past you. Like he’s trying to remember something.

“What happened?”

You open your mouth.

Before you can answer, Valarr blinks. The confusion vanishes.

His hand squeezes your knee, “There you are.”

You freeze; his smile returns. Wrong, familiar.

“I missed you.”

-

You’re standing in the bathroom brushing your teeth. Valarr is sitting on the closed toilet lid, watching you.

The mirror catches his reflection; you almost miss it.

His expression changes instantly.

You stop brushing. Valarr is staring at his own reflection, his eyebrows pull together slightly.

“Valarr?”

His breathing changes. Sharp, uneven.

His eyes flick downward to his hands.

Then the bruises covering his arms, the scratches, the marks.

His face loses what little color remained.

“What the fuck…” The words are barely audible.

Valarr jerks upright so fast the toilet lid bounces off the base.

His eyes lock onto yours. For a split second, you think he’s remembering everything.

Duncan, the bridge, the blood.

Instead, his entire body goes rigid, like something grabbed him and pulled him back in his head.

His eyes unfocus, then refocus.

“Baby?” The smile returns. Artificial.

You stare at him; the toothbrush gripped tightly in your hand.

The repeated word makes you sick to your stomach.

-

The television drones on, it’s been on for hours.

The sound has stopped meaning anything, it’s just noise filling space so silence doesn’t get a chance to form.

Valarr is talking beside you. His voice rises and falls like he’s telling a story you were supposed to follow.

You didn’t catch the beginning, or the middle. Or anything at all.

You stare straight ahead, past him. Your eyes land on the dresser without meaning to. 

Pressed into darkness like it might rot if it’s found, your last chance. 

Your last mistake.

Valarr’s voice pauses, “Baby?”

You don’t move.

“Baby?” His tone shifts slightly.

Quieter now, careful.

The room is smaller.

The television is too loud.

The thoughts arrive uninvited.

Duncan is dead.

It’s your fault.

Something inside your chest caves in.

The first object hits the floor before you realize you’ve moved.

The television remote.

It cracks against the wall hard enough that plastic scatters across the carpet like bone fragments.

“Baby-“

You don’t hear him finish; your hands are already reaching.

A lamp, it shatters against the coffee table. Glass jumps across the surface like it’s alive for half a second before dying out.

Your breathing turns jagged, uneven, too loud in your ears.

You are on your knees now, without remembering the fall. Your hands are shaking so violently you can barely see them.

You gasp, but it breaks apart before it becomes words. “I can’t do this anymore!”

Valarr moves immediately. He drops to the floor beside you, close enough that you can feel his presence without seeing him fully.

“Baby,” he says quickly, hands reaching.

Always reaching.

“Don’t-don’t touch me!”

He stops, like he’s been physically interrupted.

You drag yourself backward on the floor, your palms slip against the carpet, your breathing stutters.

“I can’t,” you repeat again, but now it sounds different. Like you’re telling it to yourself more than him.

“You’re okay,” he says. But it doesn’t sound like reassurance, it sounds like an instruction.

And something in that breaks the last thread you were holding onto.

You shake your head violently, “No.”

Your voice cracks immediately. “No, no-“

Your eyes lock onto him, and everything that’s been building inside you spills out at once.

“You are not him!”

The words land wrong.

Too loud.

Too real.

The room goes still, Valarr doesn’t move.

Doesn’t speak, just freezes.

“What?” He says quietly after a moment. 

“I don’t want you,” you choke out.

The sentence feels like tearing something out of your chest.

“I don’t want you.” Your voice breaks completely.

“I want Valarr!”

His face shifts.

“I am him,” he says immediately.

Too certain.

“No,” you whisper.

Tears are already blurring your vision.

“No, you’re not.”

You push yourself backward again, scrambling, desperate for space that doesn’t exist.

“You’re not him.”

The repetition becomes a rhythm.

A prayer.

A warning.

Valarr slowly follows you. He’s controlled, like he’s tracking you.

“I can be whatever you want me to be,” he says, voice trembling now. “I’ll do anything.”

“No,” you sob.

“Anything,” he insists. “I’ll change.”

Your breath breaks completely. “You can’t.”

“I can.”

“You can’t be him!”

The words finally snap something open inside him.

He goes rigid, entire body locking like a wire pulled into tight.

He stands slightly, just enough that his shadow falls over you completely.

The calm breaks.

“I AM VALARR!”

The shout detonates through the room.

You flinch so hard your entire body curls inward. A broken sound leaves your throat; half sob, half panic.

And then-

Wet.

Warmth, spreading fast.

Humiliating.

Your entire body goes still in horror as your mind lags behind understanding.

You stare at the puddle beneath your legs. You can’t move. You can’t speak.

Valarr stares too; at you, at the floor below you.

The anger is gone instantly, like it never existed.

“Oh,” he says quietly.

“Oh, baby.”

The sound is different now, empty.

He drops to his knees again immediately. “I’m sorry,” he says.

You fall into his chest, there’s nowhere else left to fall.

-

That night, Valarr falls asleep with his arm around your waist.

Or at least, you think he does.

The television flickers softly across the room. Some late-night informercial drones in the darkness. The blue light washes over the ceiling in slow pulses.

You stare upward. You haven’t slept, not really. Every time you close your eyes, you see Duncan.

Every time you drift off, you wake up choking on panic.

Beside you, Valarr breathes steady. His arm is heavy across your back like a leash disguised as affection.

His fingers twitch, you freeze. The room feels impossibly still.

“Don’t move like that.”

The voice is so quiet you almost miss it.

Your entire body locks. Slowly, carefully, you turn your head.

Valarr is staring at the ceiling. His expression is blank, he looks exhausted.

“V-Valarr?”

“Shh. You’ll wake him up.”

“Who?” You barely breath out.

“It’s not me, (Y/N).” His eyes slide toward yours.

Immediately, fear floods your chest.

“N-No. You are Valarr.”

You hate how desperate you sound.

“He’ll wake up if you’re too loud.” He whispers, not moving an inch. 

When he opens his eyes again, they look wet.

“He’s not me.” He says quietly but firmly.

Your eyes burn, “Valarr…”

“Keep your voice down.” The warning comes instantly, sharp.

His eyes dart toward the television, then to you.

“What happened?” The question comes out harsh, demanding.

You feel tears gathering instantly.

His voice cracks, “What did I do?”

You cover your face, shoulders shaking.

“I didn’t know.” The words barely make it out.

Valarr freezes.

“I didn’t know it was real.”

You force yourself to look at him, at the real him. The version you’ve been searching for. The version you’ve been mourning while he sat beside you.

“I wished for it.”

Valarr doesn’t move, doesn’t blink.

“I thought it was a joke.”

Tears spill down your face. “I thought it was fake.”

Valarr remains silent, only his expression changes. Devastation.

He breaks the silence with a harsh whisper, “You could’ve left me alone, but you did this?”

You start to cry harder, “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice.”

You physically recoil, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You push out of your breath. “B-but I can fix this!” You scramble off the bed, towards the dresser.

“I can fix this,” and “I’m sorry,” spill out of your mouth like a disoriented prayer as you rush toward the dresser, socks slipping on the ground.

Your knees slam against the floor, you barely feel it.

Behind you, Valarr stands.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?”

Your hands disappear beneath the dresser; dust coats your fingers. Your nails scrape the wood. For a moment, you can’t find it. Your fingers grasp it, pulling yourself off the floor.

You yank open the box, the playful tune you heard weeks ago now sounding distorted.

“I can fix this.” You say, turning towards Valarr. You’re holding the branch in shaky hands, before putting it in his.

“You wanna make me happy, right? Make me happy.” You plead, holding onto his arms. “Make everything go back to normal. Please. That will make me happy.” You smile shakily, tears leaking from your eyes.

Valarr looks at you. You can’t read his expression, tears flooding your eyes leaving you with a blurry figure in front of you.

“Okay, (Y/N).” He says, rubbing your head.

“Okay?” You say, full of hope.

“I wish for (Y/N) to love me the way I love them.”

SNAP!

Your face drops, “no...” You whisper, looking at the broken branch still in his hands.

“Now you’ll be happy, baby. You’ll be happy with me.” He says with a bright smile.

You’re about to say something but something inside you shifts.

You smile.

Your lips begin to bleed from the stretching tension, your eyes flooding with tears.

-

my brain is rotten. hope you enjoy

Taglist: @snowwythegloww @gasstationwishes @kravitzwhore @haervenya-targaryen @norwayxo @mimrntgx

[andromedasgallery]

and record soft porn

warnings: OBVI 18+ MINORS DNI, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BACKROOMS MOVIE, fueled by a horny combination of recording during sex and shotgunning a blunt, afab reader receiving oral (cause i don’t believe in giving a man head (i’m joking, mostly)), kinda clunky descriptions, i’m writing to get better at writing, especially writing smut so lemme know if anything sounds weird or clunky, uhhh no word count cause im too lazy to do those on tumblr sorryyyyy, ALSO GO SEE THE BACKROOMS MOVIE, GO SUPPORT YOUNG FILMMAKERS AND LOCAL THEATERS

“Are you sure about this?” Your hands grip the camcorder carefully, the clunky object heavy in your hands.

Bobby looks up at you from where he’s laid out on the bed, his long fingers hooking the waistband of your cotton shorts and slowly tugging them down. His blue eyes are hazy, blunt hanging from his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. Just keep the camera still for me, m’kay?” He winks at you through the lense, enjoying the way your legs twitch.

You hum weakly, letting your head rest back on the pillows as the smell of weed and Bobby’s cologne filled your head. Your eyes stray to the fan overhead, the blades pass by slowly as you count the seconds while Bobby slowly kisses his way up your legs, easing them over his shoulders.

“You with me?” He pauses above your covered cunt, taking a slow drag from the blunt before parting his lips and letting the hot smoke breeze over the wet fabric of your panties, making you jolt.

“Mm- Y-yeah,” you stutter over the fuzziness in your brain that comes from the pleasant buzz of cannabis. Bobby’s hand grasps yours, lifting the camera with a practiced ease.

“Keep me in focus.” The words are murmured into the skin below your belly button, igniting that familiar fire in your navel and causing the hairs on your neck to stand up.

At your nod, Bobby takes another hit of the blunt before leaning down. His lips meet the puffy folds of your cunt and with a slow exhale, the smoke glazes over your panties again. It’s punctuated by a slow lick that spreads the wet patch on your panties.

His nose nudges your clit and he chuckles at the pleasured noise that drips from your lips. The soft buzz of the camera lets him know your zooming in, soaking in the heated, fuzzy look in his eyes and the way he’s sitting open-mouthed against your pussy.

The smell of your arousal is much stronger when he’s this close. And it mixes with the smell of weed in a way that Bobby salivates. His impatience starts bleeding through his high mind and finally, Bobby hooks a finger through the crotch of your panties, tugging them to the side to reveal your dripping folds.

It’s a pretty sight, the puff of your folds, the glistening slick of arousal, the choked sound you make as the cold air hits your exposed pussy. He almost wishes he had the camcorder with him so he could immortalize this forever.

Bobby takes one more slow drag from the blunt, eyes meeting yours over the camera. With a nip to the meat of your inner thigh, Bobby slips the blunt into your hand, right in the small gap between your index and middle finger. Ash falls off the edge of it, scattering over your skin.

Your wince turns into a choked moan when Bobby’s mouth finally greets your pussy. His tongue is heavy with saliva and heat as he greedily tastes you for all your worth. He swaps between suckling at your clit and slipping his tongue between your folds. It’s a vicious cycle that leaves you feeling floaty and loose.

You legs give weak twitches when Bobby’s tongue glazes over your clit, tightening around his head to bring him closer when he pulls away to breathe. The camcorder shakes in your hands and Bobby notices.

He pinches your thigh as he withdraws from you slightly. “C’mon baby, keep the camera still. Like I showed you.” He licks his lips, groaning at the sweet taste of you as he watches you readjust the camera. When he’s satisfied with the angle, he lays back down, kissing your clit sweetly like he was rewarding you.

“Fuck-” You moan as he slips his tongue back into your folds, his calloused thumb doing figure eights over your clit as his other hand massages your thigh.

The dual stimulation continues and he gets lost in it, eyes shutting as he continues to make out with your pussy. At a certain point your hips start grinding against his face and hand, desperately chasing that high that you’ve been needing since Bobby proposed this idea.

His thumb leaves your clit, his index and middle finger accompanying his tongue in your aching walls. Bobby effectively swapped places with his mouth and fingers, lapping at your clit as his fingers leisurely take you apart from the inside out. Every stroke and curl makes your breath hitch and whine as you do your best to keep the camcorder stable.

“Bobby- I’m gonna-” You keen, lips parting for a stilted moan as his fingers speed up. The strokes turn quicker, his saliva drips down your clit and spills into your hole.

He mumbles something against your overstimulated bundle of nerves, tongue flattening against it as he curls his fingers against that spongy spot in your velvety walls. He murmurs vague pieces of praise that leaves your feet curling and back arching as you cum with a loud whine.

Bobby withdraws his fingers, licking them clean before he leans back in to lick you clean. Sweat drips down your back and your thighs are sticky with cum and spit. You vaguely register Bobby’s warm hands taking the camcorder from you, his spit soaked fingers snatching the blunt from you.

He places the blunt in his lips, freeing his hand to massage your ass slowly. Bringing you down from your high.

Blinking quickly, your flushed cheeks are hot to the touch and your eyes are fogged from the weed and now that pretty post orgasmic glaze. You register Bobby more clearly now, his blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He’s sat up, your thighs resting at his hips. He cradles the camera in his other hand but he watches you patiently.

When a bit more clarity hits your eyes, he smiles, taking the blunt out of his mouth and leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. The taste of your cum sits on his tongue as he moans against you, smoke filling both of your mouths as he hips twitching as he grinds his dick against your pussy. The cloth drags on your overstimulated clit and you whine agaisnt Bobby’s lips as he pulls away.

His fingers tap against the still recording camcorder as he furrows his brows. He chews on his bottom lip as his eyes drag away from the camcorder screen to look at you. “There’s still space left on the tape.”

[k8fics]

writing the last chapter of OBSESSION today!

on another note, i’ve been thinking of other movies i want to take inspiration from for the next DARK! series:

Companion inspired fic — DARK!Aerion (my fav)

Nosferatu inspired fic — DARK!Aerion

Frankenstein inspired fic — DARK!Valarr

Ruby Sparks inspired fic — DARK!Valarr

lmk what you think :D

[k8fics]

OBSESSION

Modern!Obsessive!Valarr Targaryen x Reader

summary: (Y/n) has spent years trapped in a messy, emotionally charged situationship with Valarr Targaryen. But after a drunken birthday wish, Valarr’s feelings suddenly become impossible to ignore. (Inspired by Obsession 2026).

rating: E - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, dark fiction, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, manufactured love, emotional dependency & manipulation, loss of autonomy, psychological horror, reader is not a good person, stalking/tracking, possessive behavior, emotional distress, self-harm, abuse, noncon, murder, coercive control

NAVIGATION | CHAPTER TWO

For a moment, everything feels normal. You can feel like morning sun on your skin, the rays showing up orange under your eyelids.

Your eyes open slowly; you freeze.

Valarr is already awake, lying on his side, watching.

Not blinking, not smiling. Just staring.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, sitting up.

Valarr’s expression immediately softens, “Good morning, baby.”

Your pulse refuses to slow down. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while.” His voice is quiet, “I couldn’t sleep.”

You force out a nervous laugh, “Why not?”

Valarr reaches up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“My dreams are bad.”

The answer shouldn’t make your stomach twist. But it does.

“What happens in them?”

His eyes don’t leave yours.

“I’m alone.”

Before you respond, a ringtone suddenly shatters the silence.

Valarr’s phone lights up on the nightstand.

FATHER

The call ends.

Immediately starting up once again.

FATHER

You stare at the screen.

“Valarr…”

Instead, he leans forward and presses a kiss against your lips.

The phone rings again.

He doesn’t even seem to notice it, pushing his tongue past your lips and across your teeth.

The phone buzzes on the nightstand.

You push him away by his shoulders, leaning your head away as he leans down once again.

“Shouldn’t you answer that?”

He sighs, rubbing himself against you. “It can wait.”

The phone stops ringing, then rings again. 

“..It seems important.” You say quietly as Valarr humps your leg.

He sighs dramatically.

Without warning, he grabs it, throwing it.

The device slams into the wall.

CRACK

You jump.

The phone falls to the floor in pieces, silence follows.

Valarr was already looking at you when your head snapped back to face him.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He says, grabbing your hands hard. “Did that scare you?”

You stare at him; his eyes are wild. They bounce between your own.

The broken phone lies forgotten across the room.

Neither of you mention it, acting like it never happened.

Valarr follows you into the kitchen while you make coffee.

Follows you into the living room while you try to watch television

Follows you when you get you to grab a blanket from the hallway closet.

Every time you turn around, he’s there.

Watching. Smiling.

“Baby?”

You glance up from your phone, “What?”

“You still love me, right?”

The question catches you off guard.

You laugh, “Yes.”

The tension immediately drains from his shoulders. 

“Okay.” He settles back against the couch, satisfied.

Five minutes later—

“Baby?”

You lower your phone, “What?”

“You still love me?”

You stare at him; he stares back expectantly.

“…Yes.”

“Oh” He smiles, “Okay.”

The third time he asks, it isn’t funny anymore.

The fourth time, your stomach starts to twist.

The fifth time, you stop counting.

-

You wake up that night with a crushing weight around your waist.

Valarr.

His face is buried against your shoulder. His arm is wrapped so tightly around you that your lower back aches.

Carefully, you try to move.

Immediately, his eyes open. “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.”

Relief floods his expression, “Oh.”

You blink, before starting to climb out of bed. His hand catches your wrist.

“Can I come with you?”

You stare at him, “...When I pee?”

He nods, completely serious.

“Please.”

You laugh because surely, he’s joking.

Valarr doesn’t laugh. He follows you to the bathroom.

-

This is what you wanted.

Wasn’t it?

Valarr kisses your neck while you’re making breakfast.

Wraps his arms around your waist while you’re brushing your teeth.

Pulls you into his lap whenever you sit beside him.

Looks at you like you’re the only person in the world worth seeing.

A week ago, you would’ve killed for this.

Now every time your phone buzzes, your stomach tightens.

You glance down.

Valarr

where are you

You frown. You’re standing in the bathroom.

Twenty feet away.

LOVE OF MY LIFE

bathroom 

Three dots appear instantly.

Valarr

oh okay

i missed you

Something cold crawls down your spine.

-

Duncan notices first. Of course he does.

The four of you are sitting together at the bar.

Trivia night.

The same booth, same drinks, same routine.

Everything should feel normal.

It doesn’t.

Valarr hasn’t taken his hands off of you once.

His arm remains around your shoulders.

His thumb brushes absentmindedly across your collarbone.

Every two minutes, he’s staring at you deeply, like he’s checking that you’re still there.

Duncan notices. Lyonel notices too.

“You alright?” Duncan asks quietly.

You nod immediately. “Yeah.”

Duncan doesn’t look convinced. Neither does Lyonel.

Before Duncan can say anything else, Valarr answers.

“They’re fine.”

His voice is calm.

Pleasant. Normal.

The way his hand tightens around your shoulder isn’t.

Valarr makes you leave trivia night early. You rub the bruise left on your shoulder as he leads you to the car.

-

That night, he makes you say his name over and over again.

“Again.”

“Valarr..”

“Again.”

His pace is brutal.

And when he started crying, you try to stop him.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he sobs into your shoulder, hiding his face. And even though he thrusts at the same pace, he begs for you to stop saying his name.

After Valarr falls asleep, you carefully slide out from beneath his arm. The movement takes nearly five minutes.

Every tiny shift makes your heart pound.

You move into the living room, grabbing your laptop from the coffee table and sitting down at your desk.

You start search:

one wish willow real

You quickly delete ‘real.’

one wish willow

The official website appears first:

One Wish Willow | Buy Now!

Single Use Only. Grants one wish. No Multiple attempts. Using additional One Wish Willows will not change or affect your other wishes. Only one wish per…

You scroll down.

eBay listings:

ONE WISH WILLOW FOR FREE IF YOU WISH FOR NIKKI FREEMAN’S LIFE TO GO BACK TO NORMAL!!!! (FREE SHIPPING!!!!!)

What the fuck?

Reddit.

You click on the first thread:

One Wish Willow – does it work?

My friend swears by the One Wish Willow. Does anyone know if it actually works?

You scroll down further:

NO, THEY 100 PERCENT DON’T WORK!!!! They’re collectibles. Anyone who broke a stick is an idiot

YES!!!! They are really hard to find, but my mom who has been ugly her whole life is gorgeous now! She doesn’t even look old!

Yes! I swear they work! It’s the most insane thing I’ve ever seen!

No!! The whole thing is a joke; even the number on the back is a prank. I called and some weird guy answered.

You click.

And click.

The deeper you read, the worse you feel.

“Baby?”

You scream. The laptop nearly flies off your desk, as you scramble to close it.

Valarr is standing in the doorway.

The hallway behind him is completely dark, the light barely illuminating his face.

His hair is messy from sleep. His breathing is irregular.

His eyes are fixed on you.

“What are you doing?” He asks softly.

“Nothing.”

Valarr tilts his head.

You force a smile. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

His entire face brightens. “Oh.”

He walks toward you immediately.

“That’s okay.”

Before you can react, he grabs you and pushes you onto the couch.

He sits beside you. Close.

Too close.

His hand finds yours.

“I’ll stay awake with you.”

You didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, his head resting against your neck.

Like a collar.

-

The next morning, you force Valarr to leave.

Not for long, just long enough to pick up groceries.

Just long enough to prove to yourself that he can still function without you.

Valarr looks genuinely distressed standing by the front door.

“Do I have to?”

You blink. “Yes.”

His fingers twitch. “But what if you need something?”

“I’ll text you.”

“What if I don’t see it?”

“You will.”

“What if-“

“Valarr.”

He immediately falls silent.

For a moment, his face goes completely blank.

Then he smiles. “Okay, baby.”

The second the door closes behind him, you exhale.

The house feels different without him in it.

Bigger. Quieter. Yours.

You grab your keys and leave.

You don’t tell him where you’re going.

You don’t text him, don’t leave a note.

You just drive.

Barely thirty minutes later, your phone rings.

Valarr.

You let it go to voicemail.

A second call comes immediately after.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

Your stomach twists as you silence your phone.

The texts start seconds later.

Valarr

where did you go

answer me

please

baby

please answer me

im scared

why arent you answering

please

please

im coming

Ten minutes later, you hear someone yelling your name.

You spin around.

Valarr is sprinting across the field.

His shirt is wrinkled; his hair is a mess. He looks like he’s been crying.

People turn to stare.

Valarr doesn’t notice.

Or doesn’t care.

He reaches you and immediately grabs your shoulders.

“Oh, thank God.” His voice breaks.

You pull away. “How did you find me?”

Valarr face goes blank.

Just for a second.

“Tracker.”

You blink. “What?”

“A tracker.”

The smile he gives you is small.

Like he’s admitting to borrowing your favorite shirt.

“I put it in your car.”

The world seems to tilt sideways.

“You did what?”

His smile falters. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You put a tracker in my fucking car?”

“I bought you flowers.”

You stare at him, “What?”

Valarr lifts the bouquet he’d apparently been carrying the entire time.

Orange lilies, crushed from how tightly he’s been holding them.

Your chest tightens, “Valarr.”

His breathing speeds up. “Please don’t be mad.”

“You tracked me.”

“I was worried.”

“You tracked me.”

“I love you.”

The words come out desperate.

Like he’s throwing them at you and hoping it sticks.

You take a step backwards.

Valarr’s face immediately crumples.

“No.”

Another step.

“Please.”

His hands begin to shake.

“I need space.”

The second the words leave your mouth something changes.

Valarr goes pale.

“No.”

“Valarr-“

“No.”

He starts scratching at his own arms. Hard.

Hard enough to leave angry red marks.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“No.”

His voice cracks.

“Please calm down.”

“I’m trying.” He isn’t.

Tears stream down his face.

His hands tangle in his hair.

He starts pulling. Hard.

Hard enough that you physically flinch.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Valarr-“

“I’ll do better.”

His voice breaks.

“I swear I’ll do better.”

“Stop.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“Valarr.”

“I’ll fix it.”

People are watching.

Whispering.

You feel sick.

“I’ll fix everything.”

“Valarr.”

“I love you.”

His breathing becomes ragged.

Almost hyperventilating.

“I love you so so so much.”

Fear finally settles in your chest.

Cold. Heavy. Real.

“Okay.”

The word leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

Immediately Valarr stills.

You stare; he stares back.

Like someone hit a switch.

“Okay?” He asks softly.

Your throat feels tight.

“I’ll come home.”

The same blank face reaches his face.

Then relief floods in.

“Okay.”

He wipes his eyes.

Smiles.

Offers you the flowers.

Like everything was fine.

-

That night, you can’t sleep.

Valarr can. He’s wrapped around you like a second skin.

Breathing softly against your shoulder.

Your phone vibrates.

Once.

Then again.

Carefully, slowly, you reach for it.

Dunk

i need to see you

Another message appears.

now

Your stomach drops.

something is really fucking wrong

You stare at the message.

Then at the sleeping man wrapped around your body.

Outside, rain taps softly against the window.

For a moment, you consider ignoring Duncan.

Pretending everything is fine.

Pretending you can still fix this.

Then another message appears.

please

The screen illuminates the darkness.

You don’t realize your crying until a tear hits the phone.

Beside you, Valarr shifts slightly in his sleep.

Your entire body goes rigid.

For a horrible second, you think he’s awake.

But his breathing remains slow and even.

Carefully, you lift his arm from around your waist.

Valarr makes a quiet noise in his sleep.

You freeze.

His grip tightens instinctively.

Then loosens.

You wait another thirty seconds before finally slipping free.

Your heart pounds so hard you’re convinced it should wake him.

It doesn’t.

You grab your shoes and leave.

-

The rain stopped by the time you reach Duncan’s house.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes spent trying not to cry.

Twenty minutes spent trying not to think.

Duncan opens the door before you can knock.

“I’m surprised Valarr isn’t-“

The second he sees your face, his expression falls.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

You look away immediately.

Duncan steps aside, you walk inside.

The house is quiet. For a moment, you enjoyed the quiet.

Then Duncan finally spoke, “He’s getting worse, isn’t he?”

Your throat tightens. “Duncan-“

“Don’t.”

His voice isn’t angry, just tired.

“You don’t have to protect him.”

You state at the floor, “He loves me.”

The words sound pathetic even to your own ears.

You don’t even know if you believe them.

Duncan laughs, a hollow sound.

“That’s not what this is.”

You immediately shake your head. “You don’t understand.”

“No.” His jaw tightens. “I understand perfectly.”

The room falls silent.

“He wasn’t like this before.”

The second the words leave your mouth, regret hits.

Duncan’s expression changes.

“He scares you.”

“No.”

The lie comes too quickly.

Duncan notices. He always notices.

“You flinched when I said his name.”

You look away. “He’d never hurt me.”

“Maybe not.” Duncan steps closer, “But he’s hurting you.”

Your eyes burn. “I don’t know what to do.”

Duncan’s face softens immediately. “You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Something in your chest breaks.

Because that’s what you’ve been missing.

Not obsession. Not devotion.

Not someone who can’t breathe without you.

Just someone standing beside you.

You wipe angrily at your eyes.

Duncan watches and sighs, “This is killing me.”

Your eyebrows pull together, “What?”

His laugh is shaky, humorless.

“You.”

The room suddenly feels very small.

Like your house.

With Valarr.

“Duncan…”

He drags a hand across his face. “I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“Duncan.”

“But I’m tired.”

Your stomach drops.

“Duncan..”

“I love you.”

Silence.

Neither of you move.

Neither of you breathe.

The words hang between you.

Too late. Far too late.

Duncan laughs weakly, “There. Now it’s out.”

You stare at him, stunned.

You don’t know what to say.

What you’re supposed to say.

Something catches your eye.

Movement, behind him.

Outside, through the glass door.

Your blood turns to ice.

Someone is standing there.

Perfectly still.

Watching.

Duncan notices your expression.

Confused, he starts to turn.

The figure moves. Fast.

Your scream tears from your throat before you even realize it.

The door slams open.

Everything happens so fast.

Shouting, something crashes.

Something wet and warm hits your face, Duncan stumbles backward.

You hear your own voice screaming. You hear Duncan yelling. You hear Valarr.

Then silence.

The world narrows.

Your vision blurs.

Nothing feels real anymore.

Not when you’re looking at Valarr’s face.

He doesn’t even look angry, he looks relieved.

Like he finally found something he’d been searching for.

Like everything is okay now.

Like everything has been fixed.

Your stomach twists violently.

“Baby?”

Valarr’s voice sounds distant.

Wrong.

You can’t stop staring.

At him.

At Duncan.

His eyes. The eyes that looked at you with so much care.

The eyes that noticed when something was wrong.

The eyes that tried saving you.

Now, they look so empty. So dead.

“Baby?”

Valarr takes a step forward. You stumble backwards automatically.

There it was,

that blank look once again.

phew finally finished :D things are only gonna get worse from here

lmk if you have any questions/thoughts about this series or to be included in the taglist!

Taglist: @snowwythegloww,

[k8fics]

im going to see backrooms tonight!!

i will be posting part two of OBSESSION very soon, i just need to work out a few more things. im hoping to do only three chapters but if anyone has any suggestions, questions, or thoughts i am more than happy to answer them!!

sorry for the slow first chapter, but im so happy that people are enjoying where the story is going! it’ll get a lot crazier in ch. 2 & 3 :D

to read OBSESSION, click here!

[k8fics]

OBSESSION NAVIGATION

SUMMARY: (Y/n) has spent years trapped in a messy, emotionally charged situationship with Valarr Targaryen. But after a drunken birthday wish, Valarr’s feelings suddenly become impossible to ignore. (Inspired by Obsession 2026).

MAIN SERIES [COMPLETE]

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

SHORTS/CONCEPTS

COMING SOON

[k8fics]

OBSESSION

Modern!Obsessive!Valarr Targaryen x Reader

summary: (Y/n) has spent years trapped in a messy, emotionally charged situationship with Valarr Targaryen. But after a drunken birthday wish, Valarr’s feelings suddenly become impossible to ignore. (Inspired by Obsession 2026).

rating: E - Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, dark fiction, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships, manufactured love, emotional dependency, loss of autonomy, psychological horror, mutual toxicity, reader is pathetic!!

NAVIGATION | CHAPTER ONE

You laugh softly under your breath.

“Valarr...” You start quietly, testing the sound of it. “We’ve known each other for a while now and I just need to tell you...” You swallow.

Outside, rain taps softly against the windshield.

“I-I really like you, and I hope you like me like that too. I think I lo-"

KNOCK KNOCK

You yelp, whipping your head toward the driver’s side window to find Duncan grinning at you through the glass, curls damp from the rain.

“You practicing your Oscar speech in here or what?” He shouts through the window.

You roll your eyes, taking the keys out the ignition as he opens the door for you. “Fuck off.”

Duncan slips his head into the car, his wet hair dripping onto your lap, you can smell the cologne and cigarette smoke emitting off of him.

“You’ve been sitting here for like ten minutes.” He glances at the look on your face, his grin widening. “You finally gonna tell him?”

“Tell who?”

“Oh, brother.” Duncan says dramatically, leaning on the interior driver side door, you scoff as you exit the car.

“I’m serious,” he continues, closing the door behind you. “You’ve been doing this weird little dance with Valarr for years now.”

You leaned against the car after locking it, “It’s not a dance.”

“Right.” Duncan deadpans, standing right in front you, shielding you from the rain with his upper half. “Just friends that casually fuck each other, stare at each other like dying Victorian lovers, spend every Thursday night attached to the hip at all times-”

Your face warms, “We’re not attached at the hip.”

Duncan looks at you with a straight face that says, 'Are you fucking kidding me?'

You sigh heavily, pushing yourself off the car. “Can we please just go inside?”

The bar is loud by the time you enter, crowded with people yelling over one another while some shitty 2000s song plays overhead. A familiar warmth wraps around you immediately.

Your eyes immediately caught Valarr’s. That happened every time. Every trivia night.

His expression softens instantly, sharp features easing as he stands from the booth.

“There you are,” he says with a soft smile. Something in your chest tightens.

Lyonel waves his arms dramatically from beside him. “Finally! We were two seconds away from replacing you with some dude named Steve.”

“Does Steve know 2000s pop culture like me?” You ask, sliding into the booth.

“No,” he admits. “But he had spirit.”

Valarr moves before you can fully sit down, one hand instinctively settling against your waist to guide you into the booth beside him.

Duncan notices. Duncan always noticed.

You ignore the look he gave you.

“You’re late.” Valarr whispers in your eye, warmth radiating off him.

“You survived.”

“Barely.” His knee presses against yours beneath the table.

The night blurred pleasantly after that.

Lyonel cheated shamelessly.

Duncan argued with a table across the room over a sports trivia question.

Valarr stays close enough that his arm brushes against yours every few minutes.

At one point, he absentmindedly fixes the necklace tangled beneath your shirt collar while you argue with Lyonel about movie directors.

Small things, tiny things.

Things that meant nothing.

Things that meant everything.

“Can you two just get together already?” Lyonel asks suddenly near the end of the night.

Silence drops over the booth.

Duncan looks down at his drink.

You froze.

Valarr laughs softly, shaking his head.

“There it is,” he muttered. “Was wondering how long it’d take tonight.”

Your chest tightens painfully.

Lyonel points between the two of you, “I’m serious. The tension is actually becoming concerning, mentally.”

“We’re fine,” Valarr says easily.

Fine.

The word digs beneath your ribs.

Not together, not interested, not in love.

Fine.

Valarr glances toward you, expression softening slightly when he notices your silence.

His hand squeezes your knee once beneath the table.

Like that fixed it.

Like that makes everything fine.

-

By the end of the night, you’re drunk enough that the city lights blurred together outside the car’s windows.

“You’re staring,” Valarr says from the driver’s seat.

“I’m thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

The inside of his car smells like cedarwood and the cologne he always wears. The familiarity alone is enough to make your chest ache.

“You know,” you say quietly. “You never answered Lyonel’s question.”

Valarr’s grip tightens slightly on the steering wheel, “You were drunk five minutes ago. Now suddenly you’re interrogating me?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He pulls up outside your house. Neither of you moved.

Your heartbeat thuds painfully against your ribs.

“Come inside,” you whisper.

Valarr looks over at you immediately.

You swallow, “We can-“ your voice catches slightly. “We can hang out a little longer.”

The look in his eyes darkens briefly.

Want. Affection.

Something deeper you can never fully name.

Then it disappears just as quickly.

“You’re drunk,” he says softly.

“I’m not that drunk.”

“You are.”

“We could just go to bed together. “ You laugh weakly, “All you ever want to do is to fuck, why not now?”

Valarr’s expression shifts instantly. Something almost wounded.

“You think that’s all I want from you?”

Your breath catches.

“Valarr-“

“You know I can’t do be in a relationship right now.”

Your throat tightens, “Why not?”

He looks away first. “You know I’m bad at this stuff.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Valarr sighs quietly, “Why ruin what we already have?”

The words hurt more than you expected. Because he sounds so sincere.

That’s the worst part.

You nod slowly, staring at your hands. “Right.”

You reach for the door handle before you could embarrass yourself further.

Valarr grabs your wrist gently, you look back at him.

For one horrible second, you thought maybe he was going to stop you.

Instead, he leans forward and presses a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Get inside safe, baby.”

You hated that word. 

Because, even after the heartbreak, your stomach still flips when he says it.

You step into the rain without another word.

Inside the car, Valarr watches until your front door closes behind you.

-

The smell of vanilla frosting and alcohol lingers heavily throughout your house.

Half-empty bottles littered the kitchen counter beside paper plates smeared with icing and discarded candles.

Valarr sits beside you, one arm stretched lazily along the back of the couch behind your head.

Your birthday party had started hours ago, but nobody seemed particularly interested in leaving yet.

Not that you mind.

Not when Valarr keeps looking at you like that.

Like you’re something precious.

Duncan set your birthday cake down on the coffee table with a sigh.

“Okay.” He says, clapping his hands together once. “Presents. Open my gift first, it’s objectively the best.”

“I love your confidence," you mutter.

You open Duncan’s gift first, a crystal necklace.

Thoughtful enough to make your chest ache a little.

“Oh,” you say softly. “Duncan..”

“What?” He asks quickly, already defensive. “Don’t make it weird.”

Lyonel gags loudly, “Oh my God, he gets so sentimental.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You laugh, leaning to your right to hug Duncan tightly.

Valarr watches the interaction quietly beside you.

His fingers run against your back before moving his arm back toward the couch.

“Mine next.” Lyonel announces dramatically, tossing a poorly wrapped box into your lap.

You rip the wrapping paper off eagerly. Inside sat a long triangular box covered in red text and graphics.

You blink up at him, “What is it?”

Lyonel grins, “A One Wish Willow!”

Duncan groaned immediately, “Jesus Christ.”

You turned the box over, revealing the large text shown on the back, ‘Spark the middle and break in half.’

“You’re joking.”

“Mostly.” Lyonel admits, shrugging.

Valarr leans slightly closer beside you, gaze flickering over the text. “What is it supposed to do?” He asks.

“It grants one wish, duh.” Lyonel grins.

You laugh, “Where did you find this? Etsy?”

“Found it in one of those gem stores, I went with Dunc.” He says, nudging Duncan.

Duncan took another sip of his drink, “My cousin had a bunch of those in college.”

Your head snaps toward him immediately, “And?”

“I dunno he liked to collect them or some shit; he was pretty weird.” He says quickly.

Lyonel points at you dramatically, “You only get one wish, so make it count!”

“Right,” you deadpan. “I’ll use it responsibly.”

Valarr stretches before sitting up. “How about another shot?” He suggests, already walking toward the kitchen for the tequila he brought over. 

Lyonel watches Valarr leave the room before leaning in. “Maybe you can wish for him to finally commit to you,” he says with a smirk.

Duncan scoffs beside you.

“Shut up,” you mutter quickly.

Later, after too many drinks and several more rounds of terrible horror movies, the night finally began to wind down.

Duncan hugs you first. “Text me tomorrow,” he said quietly.

“I always do," You say with a smile.

Lyonel shoves him to the side, wrapping you in an aggressively dramatic hug.

“Don’t forget about your wish,” he whispers jokingly into your ear.

You roll your eyes, “Goodnight, psycho.”

Valarr was the last to leave.

You follow him to the front door, the alcohol still buzzing pleasantly through your body.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay?” You ask.

Valarr pauses while slipping on his jacket.

“I’ve got brunch with my father tomorrow, he said it's pretty important.”

You sigh dramatically, “Boo. Lame.”

“I know.” He says. “But,” he steps closer, “I can come over tomorrow night.”

Your heartbeat stutters slightly. “Yeah?”

Valarr hums, fixing your shirt collar. “We can celebrate properly.”

The look he gave you made your stomach flip.

Then, before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your cheek.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

Hours later, your house had finally gone quiet.

You sit alone on the couch wearing one of Valarr’s hoodies, a half-finished glass of wine dangling lazily from your hand while some animal documentary plays in the background.

Your eyes drift absently toward the pile of gifts still sitting on the coffee table. Then toward the triangular packaging.

You stare at it for a long moment, then reach for it.

“This is so fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself.

Still, you turn it over carefully, examining the back of the packaging once more:

‘Usage: Open the package to a magical jingle and a fun pop surprise! Hold the One Wish Willow gently, break it in half, and state your wish clearly. Wait up to 24 hours for your wish to come true. Disposal: After granting your wish, the One Wish Willow loses its magical properties.’

You snort softly.

Your phone buzzes suddenly beside you.

Valarr

hey

idk if i can come over tmr

something came up :(

Your chest tightens painfully.

You look down at the box again.

Then back at the text thread.

Then back at the willow.

“Fuck it.”

You pull open the packaging.

A strange tune immediately emits from the packaging.

The melody sounds distorted.

For one brief moment, nausea rolls through your stomach.

You laugh nervously to yourself.

“This is insane.”

You look at the branch in your hand.

And think about Valarr.

Your throat tightens.

“I wish Valarr was obsessed with me.”

SNAP

The sound echoes through the quiet house.

You stare at the broken branch for another few seconds before laughing again.

“Jesus Christ.”

You toss it carelessly onto the coffee table, sinking deeper into the couch cushions.

-

BANG BANG BANG

Your eyes snap open.

The television still plays quietly somewhere in the background, the blue glow flickering across the dark living room. Your neck aches from sleeping awkwardly against the couch cushions.

BANG BANG BANG

You jolt upright, “What the fuck-“

Several more frantic knocks rattle the front door hard enough to make you jump. Your head pounds.

Still half asleep, you blindly reach for your phone buried between the couch cushions.

3:07AM

97 missed calls.

122 messages.

All from Valarr.

Your stomach drops.

“What the fuck…”

Another bang shakes the door.

You stare at the screen in disbelief.

Valarr

please answer 

where are you

baby please

please i need to see you

please please please answer me

im outside

Your heart pounds violently against your ribs.

You rush toward the front door.

“Valarr?” You call out shakily.

No response.

Only more knocking.

You look through the peephole. Your stomach twists.

Valarr stands on your porch soaking wet from the rain, breathing heavily while peering through the small glass window beside the door.

His hair is damp; his clothes are the same ones he wore earlier.

His expression looks wrong.

Wild. Panicked.

You unlock the door carefully.

The second it opens, Valarr’s head snaps toward you.

The relief that floods his face is so intense it almost scares you.

“(Y/n).”

Before you can react, he pulls you into a crushing hug.

“I needed to see you,” he says frantically against your hair. “I really needed to see you.”

“Valarr, what the fuck?” You say groggily. “What’s going on?”

“I thought something happened to you.”

Your eyebrows pull together, pulling away from him. “What?”

He grabs your face. “When you stopped answering,” he says, breathing unevenly. “I called and called and called and-“

He cuts himself off abruptly, dragging a hand through your hair. “I thought maybe you were hurt.” Your stomach twists uneasily.

“Valarr, I fell asleep.”

“I know that now.” The way he says it feels wrong somehow.

Too relieved.

Too intense.

“Did you drive here?” You ask carefully.

“Yes.”

“At three in the morning?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His grip tightens around your face.

Not painful, just desperate.

His pupils are blown wide.

His breathing uneven.

“I’m ready,” Valarr blurts suddenly.

Your eyebrows knit together, “What?”

“We have to be together.” Your stomach drops, “What?”

“I love you.” His voice cracks slightly. “I love you so much, I can’t-I can’t do this anymore.”

Your brain struggles to catch up.

This is what you wanted. Isn’t it?

So why does it feel so wrong?

“Valarr…” You say slowly. “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“You’re acting crazy right now.”

“I know.” He says it so sincerely it scares you more.

Valarr grips your face tighter, trembling slightly.

“We’re meant to be together,” he whispers desperately. “Please tell me you feel it too. Please.”

His eyes shine with tears.

Your chest tightens painfully.

Because part of you, some horrible part of you, still feels wanted. Still feels relieved.

“Valarr…” Your voice shakes. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do.” Then suddenly he kisses you.

Messy. Desperate. Needy enough to make your stomach twist.

You push against his chest quickly.

“Okay-okay, stop.”

Valarr immediately pulls back.

Not angry, terrified.

Instantly terrified.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry, I just-I missed you.”

You stare at him.

“You saw me four hours ago.”

“I know.”

Valarr smiles faintly. “But it felt longer.”

Something cold settles uneasily in your stomach.

Rain pours softly behind him while silence stretches painfully between you.

Then Valarr smiles again. 

Bright. Love-sick. Beautiful.

Wrong.

“Can I come inside?”

Every instinct in your body tells you something is off.

But it’s Valarr.

The man you’ve loved for years.

The man who finally said it back.

You step aside slowly.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Come inside.”

Valarr visibly relaxes. “Okay.”

He grabs your wrist gently while walking into the house. You close the door carefully behind him.

“I think you should sleep for a little bit,” you say cautiously. “You’re clearly overwhelmed or something.”

Valarr turns toward you immediately. “We’re sleeping together.”

You stomach tightens. “I just meant maybe you could take the bed I could-“

“No.”

The word comes too fast. Too sharp.

Valarr immediately softens again when he sees your expression.

“You’re really gonna make me sleep alone after I drove all the way here?” He asks quietly.

His fingers tighten around your wrist slightly.

“I just thought maybe you needed some space.”

“I don’t want space.” His voice almost sounds offended by the idea.

You swallow hard. “Okay.”

Valarr smiles immediately again. “There you are.”

Like you’ve just stopped misbehaving. The thought sends a chill down your spine.

As he leads you toward your bedroom, your eyes flick briefly toward the living room table.

Toward the opened One Wish Willow packaging still sitting there.

Your stomach twists violently

There’s no way.

Right?

-

The room is dark except for faint moonlight spilling through the curtains.

Valarr lies behind you in bed, pressed tightly against your back.

One arm wraps securely around your waist. His face buries itself against your neck.

You stare forward silently. Wide awake.

Valarr presses slow kisses against your throat. Then your shoulder. Then lower.

“Valarr..” You whisper carefully. “Maybe we should just go to sleep.” “I am sleeping,” he murmurs against your skin.

His hand slides slowly across your stomach possessively.

Your pulse jumps nervously. “Don’t you have brunch with your father tomorrow?”

Valarr hums lazily. “I let him know I couldn’t make it.”

Your eyebrows pull together, “What? You said it was important.”

“You’re more important.”

The words should make your chest flutter.

Instead, they make something cold settle heavily in your stomach.

Valarr gently turns you onto your back so you're facing him.

The expression on his face nearly steals the air from your lungs.

Pure devotion. Complete adoration.

It’s too much. Too intense. Too sudden.

He leans down, kissing you softly.

“I love you,” he whispers against your mouth.

Then again.

And again.

Like he needs to keep saying it or he’ll stop breathing.

You kiss him back despite yourself.

Because this is wrong.

You know it’s wrong.

But somewhere deep down, beneath the fear and confusion and nausea-

you still love him too.

Chapter 2 coming soon!!!!

[k8fics]

obsession 2026 inspired dark!fic where reader wishes for valarr OR aerion (or both :3) to be obsessed w them thinking the one wish willow is a joke but then they get kidnapped and shit and realizes that ts is real asf

[k8fics]

has ANYONE watched obsession??? i just watched it and im going insane. i need to CHAT!

[enchantedbutterflies]

johnny knoxville fics i love

please, you guys know i love reading fanfic more than anything and hyper-fixating on men that are too old for me. i love to keep these little collections of fics ive read and loved so i can come back to them later & recommend to other readers. as always, i did not write any of these :) just love them and i think you will too. also i am SO excited for jackass 5 and i hope that brings a revival for fanfics in the jackass community.

i constantly update this list and will have way more fics added very soon. :)

another stunt, another jackass - AO3, by entitywrites

anything but ordinary - AO3, by peachyouhadtopick

aspen by @michelle-is-writing

the backseat by @stratossphere

bikini by @dunnswrld

birdbrain by @k8fics

birthday boy by @letshaveabreakdown

care for me by @tae-and-honey

chapel of love by @letshaveabreakdown

couple's boxing by @stratossphere

daddy by @thegettingbyp2

daisy dukes by @666pretty

dating older vs younger johnny by @sacredleaver

the "enhancement" pill by @dunnswrld

flirting with medic by @maneswrites

friday nights by @daisydeacks

good puppy by @awbows

hands by @dunnswrld

heatwave

honey by @dunnswrld

hushed by @narrativeofsoul

i love it when you talk dirty to me by @knoxvillesjackass

i need a little time by @letshaveabreakdown

i think i wanna marry you by @ironmansuuucks

impatient by @stratossphere

jealousy by @newmooncokewhore

john wayne by @pontiussy

johnny knoxville x f!reader! (anaconda ball pit)

mine, mine, mine by @knoxvillesjackass

no nut november by @knoxvillesjackass

not now by by @thegettingbyp2

people's interview by @way2geeky

pictures of you - AO3, by cky_knoxville

preacher's daughter by @blasphemea

pressure by @bamfvckingmargera

pretty when you cry by @blasphemea

road head by @dunnswrld

secret language by @thegettingbyp2

size kink by @dunnswrld

sparks of jealousy by @knoxvillesjackass

storm by @pj-lovebot

strictly business by @princessglittergoree

suitcase by @thegettingbyp2

surf's up by @thegettingbyp2

surprise by @knoxvilleforever

sweet as pie, tough as nails - AO3, by ladyedge

tequila sunrises by @stratossphere

these hands by @knoxvillesjackass

vacation HCs by @knoxvilleforever

visiting the country fair by @knoxvilleforever

when it comes to you by @campk1llyourself

who's in control? by @narrativeofsoul

work from home by @cockimagepdf

your tables were easy to turn by @knoxvillesjackass

he has no business being this fucking fine, i swear to god.

[ilikereadingthisiswhatilike]

Lucy Maclean

The Library (X) = Smut

Unnamed @mayasaurusss (X) Summary: Lucy Maclean on her and reader’s wedding night… Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Unnamed @returnofeternity Summary: Giving Lucy mind blowing head and then cuddling. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

golden rule @alottiegoingon Summary: You become lucy's only friend in wasteland. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

you would find your way in @shaunamilfman Summary: The blight hit vault 32 hard, which is why it was such a big deal when a trade offer from vault 33 for new seeds was received. A sacrifice, on your part, was all that was needed to assure the prosperity of your home. You would leave everything you've ever known to marry the overseers daughter, Lucy MacLean, but maybe it wouldn't be as much of a sacrifice as you'd originally believed.  Warnings: None Special Tag: None

hunger @freelancearsonist (X) Summary: You teach your best friend something new. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Unnamed @rhiannonsknife (X) Summary: you’re a high profile stripper at the gomorrah when you meet lucy and make a deal with her: in exchange for helping you gain your freedom, you will give her any information that you hear about her father. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

SHATTER YOUR ILLUSIONS OF LOVE @rhiannonsknife (X) Summary: lucy finds something interesting in an abandoned store. it’s not what she thinks it is. Warnings: None Special Tag: None

Surfaced Hearts @k8fics (X) Summary: None Warnings: None Special Tag: Ft. Maximums

[k8fics]

just watched marty supreme

need to make him whimper

[the-wacky-planet-of-fielder]

Season 2 might be the hottest thing Nathan has ever ever done......

[k8fics]

also made this

[k8fics]

made this btw

[k8fics]

controversially young gf x nathan fielder

summary: headcanon of nathan fielder x controversially young gf! reader

rating: R — reader is 21+, sex is mentioned a few times, age gap, fem!reader

- controversially young gf that intentionally seeks out nathan.

- you spot him sitting alone in the corner of a bar, nursing his drink like it’s medicinal.

- every time he looks up, you guys make eye contact — not once, not twice, but five times. you smile; he doesn’t, just stares at you like you’re a part of a social experiment he didn’t get funding for.

- when you finally approach him (after sending him a drink and him just staring at you while sipping said drink), you guys have an awkward exchange before you ask for his number.

-you spam text him before he finally responds

heyyyy 3:36 AM

it’s me from the bar 3:45 AM

unless there’s multiple girls you met from the bar 3:46 AM

that would be embarrassing 3:46 AM

for me 3:48 AM

NATHAN: Hi, yes, I remember you from the bar. 7:12 AM

omg 7:24 AM

i thought you gave me the wrong number 7: 24 AM

or u ghosted me 7:24 AM

wyd tn???? 7:45 AM

- you basically berate him until he goes out with you.

- i imagine you two plan to meet at a sushi restaurant

You’re twenty minutes late, which you think is slightly charming, and he mostly likely thinks is disrespectful. Immediately as you walk in, you see him. He’s sitting stiffly at a table, hands flat on his thighs. You guys make eye contact as you rush in, he stands up, hand ready to shake yours like this is some business meeting. Instead of shaking his hand, you bring him in for a hug.

“Hi! How’ve you been?” You say, pulling him into a hug and swaying him left and right.

“Um… Good.” His voice is tight, arms hovering awkwardly behind your back.

Once you let him go, he immediately sat back down to his original positions. “I didn’t know if… people still hug when meeting. Like in a dating context. I’m not used to it.”

You smile, peeking your eyes above the menu in front of your face, “Are you nervous?”

He stares at the soy sauce a moment too long. “No, I’m always nervous. This is just different.”

You place your menu down, eyebrows quirking up, “Different how?”

“Different like I might actually enjoy this.”

- you order more confidently than he does.

- he gets a cucumber roll saying something about “not trusting the fish-to-rice ratio.”

- you offer him some of your sushi, which he declines. you insist, pushing your chopsticks toward his face before he reluctantly takes it.

- at the end of the night, he walks you to your car. you lean against it, he stands in front of you with his hands behind his back. as you’re ending your conversation, you give him a peck on the cheek before getting in your car.

you looked like you were in physical pain sitting across from me LOL 10:43 PM

you’re so cute 10:43 PM

NATHAN: I wasn’t in pain. That’s just my face. 11:01 PM

- after that night, he gets a little more comfortable with you.

- you guys text for months, seeing each other frequently, before he invites you to his place.

- he shares his ideas with you, not matter how bizarre they are.

- you guys decide to start going on walks together when you both had nothing better to do.

- you are definitely making most of the first moves

It’s chilly, Nathan’s awkwardly holding his jacket around himself. You’re walking shoulder to shoulder, talking about random things that happened throughout the day. You stop him mid-sentence and just go for it, pulling him in for a kiss.

When you two part, he blinks at you, “Was that rehearsed?”

“Dude, are you serious?”

“Sorry.”

“Okay, fine. Yes, but only the part right before the kiss.”

- you make him text you more often. texts started stiff, sometimes formal, before he starts to relax a bit

NATHAN: I saw someone that looked like you today. 5:03 PM

was it me? 5:04 PM

NATHAN: It was. You were standing in front of that bakery we went to last week. 5:07 PM

NATHAN: I got nervous and walked the other way. 5:08 PM

freak!!!!! 5:10 PM

i like that 5:10 PM

NATHAN disliked your message

- you looove going to his house, he loves you sleeping over

It’s 2am, you’re on his couch in his hoodie, while he’s sitting on the floor nearby, sorting some wires from an old project. Your head is squished between the couch cushion and your forearm while you watch him closely.

You stay in your positions before he glances over at you, “Do you want a pillow? Or are you just absorbing couch molecules?”

“I’ll absorb your molecules,” You smile deviously.

There’s a beat of silence before he stands up, walks over with a blanket that was originally folded up behind a loveseat, placing it over you. “Give me 5 minutes.” He mutters as you nod eagerly.

- stands behind you as you do your nightly routine while quietly reading on his phone.

- he say it’s “for proximity calibration”

- sets the thermostat to the exact temperature you prefer when you stay over.

- you like taking pictures of him doing mundane tasks and then gushing over them later.

- he pretends to hate it, but in actuality, he starts doing the same to you (without the extreme gushing — he just looks at them later when he’s missing you).

- eventually, he starts sending photos he takes of himself without comment.

- like sending mirror selfies with random objects around his house.

- keeps your favorite snacks at his place and then denies they’re for you.

“I just like those now. Independently.”

- you blast music when you cook, he listens to podcasts quietly.

- for someone younger than him, he’s a lot healthier than you.

- he makes most of the food you eat together.

- mostly because the last couple times you “made” food, it had been meals a college student would make using their last $5.

- and yes, you are in the background taking photos of him cooking.

- him teaching you how to cook….…….

- he’s only taught you how to make a few meals because every time he tries to teach you, you become a horndog.

He’s showing you how to dice onions. You’re behind him, arms wrapped around hid waist, not paying attention in the slightest.

“Are you even watching?” Nathan questions.

“Oh, I’m watching.” You say, staring intensely at his arms and hands.

- he cannot keep up with you

- while he has you beat in the health department, he doesn’t stand a chance with your stamina.

“I already fucked you 3 times just this morning, how are you still this wound up?”

“I can’t help it when you look like this! You look so hot with your glasses on.”

- he can’t say no to you.

- once he learns about the triangle method, he realizes you do it every time you want him to kiss you ever since you met. refuses to confront you about it though, he finds it too endearing to let you know that he knows your little secret.

- will NEVER wake you up when you’re sleeping on him. on his lap, across his legs, sprawled beside him on the couch, he is not moving.

- he IS little spoon

- when you’re sad, he’ll give you space with a blanket and candle beside you. you always crawl into his lap less than 10 minutes later.

- his hyper-logical over-explaining calms you down.

- he finds your oversharing very addictive, he could listen to you without saying a word for months, if not years.

- he once did a full psychological analysis using your star chart “for fun.”

- you send him 10-minute voice memos throughout your day, he saves them and listens to all of them, sometimes twice.

- he does both of your laundry, you fold half and steal the rest of his clothes.

- you cut his hair; he refuses to let anyone else do it.

- you dance in the kitchen, he doesn’t join. But he’ll watch like it’s the most important part of his day.

- you say “i love you” constantly, he’s not keen on saying it back as often as you are but he’ll make sure you know how loved you are.

-

okay i know i said tuesday, i fell asleep as i was writing this yesterday LOL. i hope you enjoy this tiny fic, i’ll be writing larger pieces later this week. also im trying to get out of using Y/N, hopefully the writing is still easy to read without it.