#david king x reader

[imtooscaredforthis]

Reckless Abandon

David King x Reader Smut

Summary: After another trial, you’re stuck patching David up, and things get a little heated.

Mentions of: Injuires, Bruises, Pining, Sexual Tension, Slight Violence, Oral Sex, etc.

A/N: THIS IS COMPLETELY SELF INDULGENT LMFAO I just got David’s character with the update and idk why but this smug British asshole got me feeling some sorta way soooo

Word Count: 2.1k

“You’re too damn careless, you know that?” You sighed, pulling out some bandages from the medkit. “I told you ‘One day you’ll pick on the wrong killer,’ and now look what happened.”

“You sound like me old mates, and me mum.” David snickered with a smirk, leaning against the log behind him, taking off his jacket.

“Mmm, I’m surprised you don’t see a pattern.” You shot back sarcastically, sitting on your knees and wrapping a deep gash on his side. You had to pull his shirt up to do so, keeping your eyes trained on his wound and not on his muscular midsection. If he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it.

In attempts to keep yourself distracted, you thought back to what got him all banged up in the first place. It was the last trial which you both were in, and you were facing the Oni.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened, since you only saw a part of the chase, but you could tell David was angry. And what slipped out of his mouth next surprised you.

“Get the fuck away from me, ya wanker!”

Now, you heard swearing from the other survivors, words of frustration under their breath or ones of pain, hell, you even swore yourself. But never had you heard anyone cursing directly at the killers, especially not someone like Oni, considering his temper. Then again, David wasn’t like the other survivors. He didn’t fear anything.

But man, did it infuriate the demon samurai. Even after he made David pay for his actions, he was basically fuming for the rest of the trial.

“You alright there, doll? You ‘aven’t been saying anything, and you’re just staring at me. It’s kinda givin’ me the creeps.” King said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Just thinking about what to nag you with next. Give me your arm.” You smiled, grabbing his forearm gently and pulling it down to your level, eyeing the cut on it.

Even though the entity healed most injuries post-trial, there would be occasions where The Entity would want to punish a survivor, or the injury would be too brutal to heal all together. For David, you guessed it was both.

You cleaned off the cut with some disinfectant, making him wince slightly and mutter a curse. Shooting him an apologetic glance, you gently wrapped his arm, before looking at the other old scars that decorated it, caressing them softly.

Such strong and powerful arms, if he wanted to, he could probably crush you like a toothpick. And so many scars, you couldn’t help but wonder where he got them from. David was always an enigma to you. You just didn’t understand him. You could never see how he had such a cocky and confident attitude in a place like this. But it was also one of the reasons why you enjoyed his company. It made you a little less afraid.

You were relatively new, after all. At least, you think you were. It was very difficult to have a sense of time here, but your guess was three months. You were still getting used to the pain, the dying, the constant fear and adrenaline that came with this place.

While you were once again getting stuck in your head, David was having his own problems. Oh yes, he had a very big problem, indeed. He was trying to keep his head straight, trying to keep it all together, but how could he, when you were sitting between his legs, using those gentle feathery touches on his arm that made his heart pound even harder?

You knew what you were doing didn’t you? Of course you did, you little minx. He did his best to push his filthy thoughts and fantasies to the back of his mind, but it was no use. The least he could do was try not to get too hard for you to notice, but it seemed like he was even struggling with that, considering how he could feel the blood rushing down to his already half hard member.

David always did have a thing for you, and it wasn’t just attraction. Sure, you were beautiful, but you were also smart, and kind, and one of the few people here that isn’t a complete pushover. One of the few people he can stand. Plus, he found your nagging and worrying over him quite cute.

But he knew he didn’t deserve you. After the shit he did in his old life. The fights he started, the people he’s hurt, a part of him knew he deserved to be here. Knew that he didn’t deserve someone like you.

“Well, it looks like you’re good to go.” You said, preparing to get to your feet when you noticed that David seemed a little out of it. “You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh I’m fine, love. Just seems like ya missed a spot.” He gestured to a small tear in his pants, a small cut underneath.

“You’ll live. Unless you want me to kiss it better.” You taunted him. Assuming you were joking, David felt a laugh bubble up in his throat.

But he stopped when your lips ghosted over the small cut, pressing against them gently. He felt electricity zip through his body at the contact, his cheeks warming. “(Y/n)-”

You shushed him, bringing his hand down to your level and pressing kisses over his bruised knuckles, taking his thumb between your lips and sucking gently. He groaned, grinning down at you. You don’t know what just happened, what sort of switch flicked in your head, but, honestly, you were fine with it.

“Shit, doll. Feels real nice.” You smiled at him, popping his thumb out of your mouth and pressing a kiss at the tip.

When you began to undo his belt, one of his hand grab your wrists, the other grabbing your cheeks, pressing a rough kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, letting go of his belt for the time being, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I need you to tell me if you want this or not. Right now.” He demanded, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. You felt even more excited when you looked in his eyes, seeing how dark and lust filled they were.

You nodded your head, but that wasn’t enough for David. “Use your words, love.”

“Yes, want it, so bad.” You mumble out, rubbing your thighs together. He smirks, letting go of your face, and you get right to work, slipping off his belt and pulling down his pants.

You licked your lips as you eyed his cock that was strained in his boxers. Pulling them down, you ran your fingers up his length, making David lean back, clearly enjoying the motion. You stroked him a few times, before moving your mouth down to his tip, licking the precum off of it.

“Fuck.” He groaned, while you wrapped your mouth around him, taking him in more and more. Slowly, you began bobbing your head, running your tongue along his base.

But David wanted more. He was growing impatient, so he moved his hand through your hair, making you move faster, making you take him even more.

You gagged around him, choking slightly but managing to breathe through your nose. “That’s it, atta girl.”

You felt yourself beginning to pool at his moans and praise, the thought of getting him off this good really starting to do something to you. You slipped your hand into your pants, starting to play with your clit, while continuing to suck him off. He started to throb in your mouth, growing louder and louder. He was getting close, you could tell.

David bucked his hips into your mouth, forcing himself even further down your throat, and you did your best to take him, letting him use your hair and fuck your mouth. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

“Oh sweetheart, ‘m gonna-” He groaned, slamming you against his pubic bone, and finishing in your mouth. His hot seed spurted down your throat and made you gag, the salty mixture a bit too much for you.

After a moment or two he let go of your hair, releasing you from him, and letting out a long sigh. Panting slightly, you smiled up at him, drinking in his seed with a hard swallow. You licked your lips, taking in any other traces of his mixture, wiping away any excess drool.

David looked down at you in complete and utter adoration, grabbing your face, and pulling you up to his level. “C’mere, right now.”

He pulled you into a passionate kiss, tasting a bit of himself on your tongue. He stripped you quickly, pulling your old white stained tank top over your head, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down to your ankles. You managed to kick them off, leaving yourself in your bra and underwear.

You felt slightly self conscious, not being this exposed in a long time. In fact, it had been a long time since you had done anything like this. It’s not like you could really have relationships in this hellhole anyway.

You moved your arms over your chest and stomach, hiding your revealed skin. David pushed them away gently, cupping your cheek. “Yer so fucking beautiful, ya know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as gorgeous as you. Even before all this shit happened.”

“Fuck, David.” You muttered, feeling your face grow hot, grabbing his collar and kissing him again. Did he even realize what he was doing to you? How his words were making you basically melt? “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

He chuckled softly against your lips. “You already do.”

Before you could even process his words, David was stripping the rest of his clothes off, picking you up and putting you on his lap, unclipping your bra and pulling down your panties, so you were both nude. His hands trailed down to your hips, rubbing them softly. “You ‘ave no idea how bad I’ve wanted this. How bad I’ve wanted you.”

“I’ve wanted you too.” You pressed your forehead against his, kissing him. You let him line you up, rubbing the tip of his member against your cunt.

Slowly, you pushed your hips down on him, moaning in unison with him as he bottomed out inside. After a moment or two of your walls molding around him, you started to move. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting his calloused hands move your hips and take control.

“Fuck-” You moaned, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, as he snapped his hips upwards.

“I want to see your face. Show me.” King ordered, moving his hand and grabbing your chin, pulling your head from his neck and having you look at him. Your face was all flushed and sweaty, hair messy and eyes lidded with lust, mouth parted slightly as pants and moans slipped from them.

“Such a pretty fucking girl, aren’t you?” He popped his thumb between your lips, having you suck it again. “I’ve had so many dirty thoughts, filthy fantasies of doing this to you. But fuck, this is better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

He moved his hand away, letting you push yourself against him, your breasts brushing up against his chest. You kissed him again, moaning into his mouth as you began to bounce on him a little more roughly.

“Feels amazing- shit, David.” You managed to get out, laying back and moving up and down on him, his dark eyes trailing down to your bouncing tits, moving one hand from your hips to grab it, pinching your nipple softly.

David began to kiss, suck and bite down your neck, leaving love bites and hickeys, marking you as his. He thrusted even rougher up into you, hitting the tip of your cervix and making you cry out.

He ran his fingers over your clit, making you grow even closer. Your walls then clamped down on him, spasming as you reached your peak. “Oh fuck- fuck- I’m gonna—-”

“Shit, baby. Want you to be mine, my girl, all mine.” He groaned, before pulling out and finishing on your body.

You panted softly into his neck, while David caught his breath, both of you coming down from your highs. “I meant it.”

“What?”

“I meant what I said. I want you to be mine.” David takes your soft hand in his rough, bigger one, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “So, what do ya say?”

A small, thoughtful smile crosses your lips, and you kiss him, gently. “Okay. Now let me go get dressed.”

“Mm, I don’t think I will.” He held you down by your hips, making you squeal and squirm underneath your grip, both of you laughing. “I think we should celebrate.”

The way he muttered those last words as he kissed down the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you know you’re in for a lot more than you expected. A little more fun couldn’t hurt though, right?

[theres-a-body-here]

Male survivors with Creep!reader (part 1)

The wolf-masked creep makes their rounds around the realm

Dwight Fairfield

Hates going against you in trials

You seem to always know where he is

More than once has Dwight been working on a gen when he notices you simply watching from afar with your camcorder recording him

He hates the breathing you make behind the wolf mask

It's not labored breathing

Dwight feels a pit in his stomach when he realizes it's heavy breathing one makes when aroused

He's certain you do it on purpose to mess with him

You love this nervous bundle of anxiety

He's so cute when he's focused on them gens

You almost feel bad about hurting him

Almost

Chases with you are long, even when they shouldn't be

There are moments when Dwight is certain you'll swing your whip at him, only to feel nothing

You love chasing him, so much so that you'll draw out the chases for as long as you can

You only swing when you're sure his guard is dropped, leaving zero time for Dwight to prepare for the pain

Dwight thinks you're even scarier when he's hurt

The weight of dread settled heavily in Dwight's chest as he felt hot breaths on his neck. You were closing in fast, relishing every moment of your hunt. All Dwight could do was run toward what little hope he had left - the killer shack.

As he stumbled into safety, gasping for breath and feeling like vomiting from both exhaustion and fear, your voice echoed around him.

"You make such cute noises when you're in pain, my lambkin," you purred from behind your wolf mask, leaving no doubt about your true intentions.

Terror coursed through Dwight's veins at those words, making him feel dirty and violated even without any physical touch...yet.

David King

Hates you, and you hate him

You hate him so much you refuse to record him

You feel a bit less hateful when he's shirtless in trials

But just barely

You like to sneak up on him while he's doing gens

You get really close behind him

It's only when David can feel the snout of your wolf mask pressing against the back of his head that he realizes he was too focused on the gen

"you're a bit daft innit?" you'd say while trying to hold back a snicker

David would insult you all the way as you carried him on your shoulder

"Oi, don't think for a second we sound like that, you arsehole!"

After hooking him, David always makes an attempt to kick you in the face

He's only sometimes successful

You made it your personal mission to tunnel him out of every one of your trials if he's present

In turn, David has made it his personal mission to deny you the satisfaction of hurting others

He always manages to body-block your whip swings before it manages to hit their intended target

It's like he waits for the moment to fuck you over

With unyielding resolve, David positions himself behind Nancy, using his own body as a shield against your whip's strike. Despite the searing pain that courses through his back, he remains steadfast, fueled by the gratifying sound of your frustration.

The grunts and growls of frustration that escape you are a testament to his success in obstructing your goals.

"Fook off, you bloody wanker," David retorts, unfazed by the discomfort as long as he can provoke those telltale noises of anger from you.

For him, the symphony of your irritation is a victory in itself, worth enduring the physical discomfort he's inflicted upon himself.

Vittorio Toscano

Like most of the other survivors, Vittorio doesn't like you

But you sure as hell like him

You've made it clear during trials with him

The other survivors love and hate having Vittorio as a trial mate when going against you

For one reason and one reason only

You would absolutely throw the match just to record him all trial

Chases with him lasted a long time

Sometimes they lasted 5 gens

The other survivors took this as an easy win, even if they were reluctant to let Vittorio deal with you alone

It took lots of reassuring from him to make them stick to gens as you had your attention on him

You always chased him with your eye on your camcorder's viewfinder. Even if it made you slower

"This is definitely going in my daddy compilation"

You went absolutely insane when Vittorio arrives to a trial in his shirtless outfit

Vittorio swears he heard you softly moan under your mask when you saw him

Cue a long and agonizing chase

you eventually catch him

You left him slugged as you recorded with your camcorder

You made sure to get every angle of his aged body

Vittorio felt absolutely disgusted as he hears you breathing heavy

But as long as you're here and not hurting the others, he can bear with it

It doesn't help that you make such vile comments as you record him on the ground

"I'll be rewatching this later for a while," you begin, your voice dripping with arousal, "I wonder how many times I'll cu-."

His mind recoils, cutting off your words as he clenches his eyes shut. The thought of what you were about to say is too repulsive to bear, and he desperately tries to shut out your presence, focusing on whatever fragment of mental solace he can muster.

Masterlist here

[opalmagines]

Super sorry to bother but I just wanted to stop by and ask, could I maybe get ace, David, Bill, Jeff, Dwight and Jake and their s/o somehow escaping the entities realm and going to their s/os original time and how they'd react to that and react to being able ti live life normally?? I hope this wasn't to much to ask! Thank you so much!

NO NOT TOO MUCH AT ALL I ADORE THIS.

Ace:

Even before all of this happened, he wasn’t used to stability. 

He was used to high-rolling, high risk living, and he liked it that way.

But when he came back, all he wanted was normal. 

Predictability went from something he hated to something he craved.

Something you provided.

He found joy in the everyday moments, the fact that your bliss would never again be interrupted by a trial, by the Entity’s merciless grasp. 

You made sure to make new little routines for him to look forward to, too. 

Making meals for him, showing him little bits of affection like clockwork, and more than anything, time to spend together. 

Because the nightmares, the flashbacks, the pain never came when he was with you. 

Even when they did, he never let it show. 

You tried to let it slide, he never was one to be open about his feelings, but it got hard. 

It felt like whenever you brought it up, it was you who took a gamble.

Thankfully though, he always seemed to appreciate how much you cared.

And that made it worth every moment. 

David

Unsurprisingly, he lashed out at first.

He was angry at the world, angry at the scars the damn thing left on his body, angry at the nightmares that haunted him.

But he was never angry at you. 

You cooled off his temper, a walking reminder that he didn’t need to fight to survive anymore.

And when David let go of that fight, it broke your heart every time.

He’d soften like that only around you, sheepishly confessing how he really felt in the fog.

“It was terrifying,” and “I thought I was going to die,” and “Bloody hell, I think I did die.” 

You just ground him in any way he lets you, usually a small but soothing touch. 

He leaned into it like it was his only tether to calm and to the safety of the world

Considering his mental state, you wouldn’t be surprised if that were true.

When he was in the fog, he was never vulnerable enough to show his fear.

With you, he didn’t have to be angry anymore.

Bill

It was hard for him to grasp that the fight was really over when he came back. 

He was still jumpy, shaky, quick to stir

Just like he was when he got back from the war. 

You remember how patient, how steady you were with him after that

Those skills come in handy now. 

He admits it’s strange to let someone look after him instead of protecting everyone else.

“It’s good to be cared about after doing so much caring.”

You take it in stride. Bill was a protector, and even though he’d just gotten out of hell, you had no doubts that he’d taken those instincts there with him

So you’re not surprised when the nightmares are never about him.

He calls other names, names he doesn’t talk about when he’s awake. Names of people who “didn’t deserve this,” toward killers who should “take me instead.” 

As much as it tears at your heart to hear, you never mention it.

You just stand as silent and steady support, always ready to offer a loving and understanding presence when it’s called for. 

Just like he always did for those caught with him. 

Jeff

He secludes himself when he comes back.

He paints almost all the time, not leaving his work area for days on end at times. 

It worries you, more than you care to say. 

You try and help, setting food outside the door and leaving encouraging notes, but all you get is the occasional quiet thank you. 

When he finally lets you into his workshop, your heart breaks.

His art is darker than it was before, filled with blood and screaming and the biggest meat hooks you’ve ever seen. 

It genuinely horrifies you, even though you try not to let onto it. 

Jeff’s sensitive, though. He notices quickly. 

He tries to explain, but he doesn’t even get through the first painting when he finally lets you see him break down. 

You hold him, right there on the floor of his workshop and try to provide him with comfort. 

You look over the walls while he’s on the floor, but your stomach twists in knots.

You weren’t sure what he went through for those long years, but you were sure of one thing. 

He’d have you. He’d always have you.

Dwight

It took a while for him to get used to feeling small again.

He tells you about how much of a leader he used to be, how important they all found him, and if you weren’t mistaken the tone he takes is almost fond. 

You’d have every reason to think it was not too bad of a time.

That is, if it weren’t for the other comments. 

He’d try to downplay them whenever he let one slip, saying “it wasn’t that bad” or “I’m here now, aren’t I.” 

But you saw the fear in his eyes.

You say how haunted he looked.

You saw how badly it hurt him. 

So you try and support him, even when he plays it off, even when he tries to stop it. 

Because Dwight hated it when people worried about him. It used to be because it wasn’t worth the time but now it was because he forgot what it felt like.

When he admits it to you, you take his face in his hands and smile.

“You are worth my worry, Dwight. It’s because I love you.” 

Jake

He almost never goes inside when he gets back.

The forest feels like home, he says, reminds him that there are no boundaries anymore. 

No limits

No imprisonment. 

You follow him, because he always seems a little lighter when you do. 

His smiles are wider, his laughs are louder, he just seems more like Jake.

And shit, you’d do anything to get that Jake back. 

He never even mentioned what happened to him. 

There were only quiet mornings after silently dealt with nightmares, mornings you could only grin and bear and try to support him through. 

He was thankful. Even if he never really showed it.

Jake was always quiet, but his quiet times were louder now.

There was horror in his still face, a somber story to be told behind his silent eyes.

But he wasn’t ready. 

You weren’t sure you were, either.

So, you simply stayed together. 

Quiet and firm, facing the wilderness.

[rootsofdread]

how about a survivor whos entire thing is that they fight back? and not just laurie strode's DS, but like actual fist fighting, shoving and biting enough to have some killers trying to back up :) they shove killers into hooks to slow them, punch to stun, biting and cackling while picked up because they're feral!! it'd be funny to see them react to someone screaming with laughter while bleeding, charging at them to buy other survivors time. (atleast one survivor added maybe? :) )

this was kind of a fun one! i did two survivors and two killers for ya <33

Meg Thomas:

Meg is used to being the one that's distracting the killer long enough for the other survivors to get things done. When she first ran into you and saw you punching and shoving the killer around — she couldn't believe there was someone else in the fog as crazy as she was. She still can't, honestly.

She uses the time you buy her wisely, and works on generators while you distract the killer. The second it's done she runs to check on you, to make sure you hadn't been downed or hooked while she was working. 

If you're injured, she tells you to switch off with her so you don't end up getting yourself killed like this. You may be stubborn, but so is she. She runs in and taunts the killer to steal their attention, leading them away from you.

She knows there's about a 50/50 chance that you'll chase her and go after the killer again without healing. She always hopes it's the other fifty, but as long as she can make sure you don't die in this trial, she supposes she can live with it.

David King:

David loves having a partner with as much of a fighting spirit as he has. From the moment he met you, he feels like he knows you like the back of his hand and that feeling only increases with time. He knows that when you throw yourself at the killer he should be leaving to work on generators with everyone else to escape, but he can’t bring himself to throw away a good fight.

He jumps into the fray with you, attacking the killer right by your side. You both know none of them can actually even feel pain, it just gives both of you the satisfaction of lashing out at your torturers and knowing you’re giving the rest of your team plenty of time to work on your escape.

He knows you would rather stay, but if you get seriously hurt by the killer David picks you up and hauls ass out of there. He loves you, and he loves that you love to fight back, but even he knows when enough is enough and you need to split to heal. He tells you that you both can go straight back once both of you are healthy.

Fighting with you gives him more of a thrill than when he fought others alone. He thinks it may just be protecting you, or maybe it’s the fact he gets to fight with someone else as nuts and passionate and violent as he is. He doesn’t care which it is.

Evan MacMillan / The Trapper:

Evan, usually, absolutely loathes anyone who fights back, for the simple reason of he’s gotten enough shit from the Entity and he won’t take any more. But he seems to enjoy the fight that you put up, almost like it’s fun for him to try to stop and catch you. 

He is always perplexed by the fact you seem to take joy in this, too, but in a different way. You remind him a little too much of himself; it’s not a hunt for you, it’s a game. A game to see how long you can hold him off and let your team get as much done as possible. A game that he intends to win.

He attempts to ignore you, most of the time, hoping you’ll tire yourself out. It slowly becomes impossible when you ram your shoulder into him to knock him over, and when you repeatedly hit him as he’s setting his traps, and when you shove other survivors out of his way. 

When he gets tired of your shenanigans, he grabs you and throws you into one of his traps. But he’s a good sport, and lets you get out. He wishes he wasn’t a good sport when you jump out and bite his arm. This is when you earn his ire and the game really starts. He’ll spend the rest of the trial trying to kill you.

Adriana Imai / The Skull Merchant:

Adriana normally would be upset by something like this. You may ruin her makeup, after all, or chip her nails. Punishment would be swift for anyone else who even dared fight back against her. But you…You’re different. There’s just something about you, something about your spirit, your determination to keep her away from your teammates. It makes you fun to chase, she likes it.

Even though she knows you’re purposefully throwing yourself at her to distract her, she still gives herself to you for the sake of the chase. She enjoys roughhousing, getting her hands dirty. Only with you. She’s decided you’re the ultimate prey.

She gives about as good as she gets when the two of you fight. She almost always has you pretty severely injured, waiting until you show any little shred of weakness to get you down and bring you to a hook. She’s watching, and she’s waiting.

She loves showing off her strength to you by being able to hold you back from hitting or shoving her away. She grips your neck, smirk hidden by her mask still evident in her eyes. You know she’s thinking of throwing you on a hook and revelling in the sense of superiority she knows it would give her.

[mlmdarkfiction]

May I request headcanons for how David would react with a Male S/O with a size kink who is allot shorter than David and gets all shy and blushing when he gets close to him

i too, am a short king, anon. Also I just can't stop thinking of David with a sug satisfied grin while writing this I'm ngl.

David definitely notices. It's a little hard not to. And he thinks it's cute it also makes him smug as hell

He'll definitely play up anything involving his height or his physique. Need someone to carry something heavy? He's got it. Need something on a top shelf? Don't worry about it, a bit of a stretch, but he can grab it!

It's kind of a game to him, seeing how far he can push it, and how much he can embarrass you, before you realize he's showing off for you on purpose.

I think he'd probably end up confronting you about said teasing instead of the other way around.

"I don't really get it..." He'd admit, looking you up and down. "Is me being taller than you really that hot to you?"

You tried to explain, but that only made the teasing worse, with David saying things like "I mean you are pretty short." "I am a lot bigger than you" and finally- "You know...I guess your height makes you cuter too"

Speechless.

[graciepasty]

Charlie Dalton. Dead Poets Society (1989).

requested by @h3x-ed ! my gyal!

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Jareth x dreamy reader🔮✨️🌌

How he would react if he was fascinated by you.🔮🌌🌠✨️

Part 1.

Part 2 here

A/n: hello dearies, this was my first attempt at doing a fan favourite childhood movie. ❤️✨️ I plan on writing a fanfic, but please let me know if you'd like a part two for the venetian masquerade scene. I'll admit I might rusty with his character because I haven't seen the movie in a while 😅.

Labyrinth requests: open

You were always a dreamer, daydreaming imaginative worlds beyond anyone's understanding, creating creatures in your mind that appealles to the eccentric.

No one really understands you, not deep down. On the outside, you may speak with politeness, telling others of your little endeavours of fantasy yet twas not in their interest nor care.

You never really fit in with the world around you, dreaming as others spoke in the usual topics of gossip, romance, sport, debates, and social societies of the world.

When working, you would dream of yourself in a flowing white garb dancing around in a fae forest pretending to be a different creature.

One night, you watched a film you believed to be rather fun and eccentric, not thinking much of it.

You recalled your mother was fond of the film, as you remembered. You had watched it once before as a child, then as a teenager.

However, as the day went on. as you worked. driving. Sleeping. Your daydreams soon turned to seeing yourself within that world, and not only that—

In the day dreams, you envision—not purposefully—you were often interacting with one of the characters within the film, the goblin king.

Though this phenomenon wasn't unusual as this happened when you were but a teenager. It was quite crazy to think that if you told anyone, they wouldn't believe you. Most saw it as only a movie, others saw it as their fantasy.

You didn't think much of it at first. Though, it was always in your mind, in your dreams despite never researching about the film.

One day, out of the blue, just as you were about to head to bed. You were wandering to the kitchen to turn off the lights. When you saw a book on the counter, out of curiosity you examined it. As to how it got there was a mystery.

Examining it, it hit you with the realisation the title was the same as the movie you had watched. How was this possible? I don't remember having owned any book like this?

Reading it plagued your curiosity. Did I—no—I don't recall buying this—how on earth? Did I—

Your questions were soon put to rest upon seeing the outside light flicker on. It had motion sensors, so whatever moved would activate it. That's odd? Perhaps it was just a cat roaming outside. They often do trespass to hunt for whatever else may be out there.

You placed the book back down onto the countertop. Taking a peek outside the window, seeing if anything was outside. What the hell? Is that a barn owl. Here. On the fence.

In hindsight, you were rather in awe than suspicious. You loved animals, and barn owls were quite rare. Once, as a child, you recalled a similar experience of a barn owl perched on the roof. It was rather extraordinary.

The owl seemed unaffected by your presence as it tilted its head, observing you—curiously.

You didn't want to disturb it. So you thought of taking photos to show your parents whom were out of town for the weekend. Grabbing your phone, you attempted to take pictures when suddenly—it was gone.

Baffled, you opened the door to your backyard, looking around the area. Nothing.

You didn't think too much of it, yet you were slightly disappointed. It was a rare sight to see something extraordinary in the moonlight.

Looking down at the book—and thinking of the movies plot. You wanted to test the theory of these coincidences. Scoffing to yourself, you jokingly said the words "ok, then, coincidence or not—".

You dramatically turn, acting like a character in a stage play. "Goblin king, goblin king, heed me, take my life away from here."

Within whispers and echoes—nothing. Nothing happened.

"Did she say it? Did she say it!".

"No, shut up!."

"Those weren't the words!".

"All she has to say is 'I wish my life away from here' it's not that hard to say."

"Shhhh, she's speaking again".

You picked up the book, reading the words from the beginning. Testing it once more. You thought of all the moments of conversing to many, not making any sense of your imagination. Trying to fit in within the world, and yet, they never understood you, despite being kind.

With genuine emotion, you say plainly, "I wish my life away from here."

Suddenly, with a turn of events, a gust of wind passed through the trees, and it wasn't gentle, but rather heavy. Turning, you didn't think a storm was possible.

Though it was put to rest when the door to the backyard swung open with brute force from the blustery winds, as glitter rained from in from the winds.

The owl that had perched against the fence had flown inside the home. Transforming into a man. You couldn't believe your eyes. You were too flabbergasted to speak.

"My, my, not even a second later, and you've already spent a wish on something so foolish—I'll be honest y/n, I was expecting a rather more exciting display from you." He was rather peculiar. His attire was not of modern fashion. Donning a white blouse with grey leggings with black boots. What caught you off guard was his outward apperance.

"That's because I thought it was fictional." You muttered.

"Fictional, you say? Hm~ Well, I'm afraid not, for I'm as real as you." He cocked a smile with a rather British sly tone.

"No, I'm dreaming, this isn't real—" you muttered, stopping. "This is a dream, you're not real, I'm simply in bed dreaming right now."

He found it funny. He was taking pleasure in your flummoxed reaction. Despite how wished to deny it true, he was real—and he was here to fulfill your wish.

"Y/n, do pay attention, I've heeded your wish, and I am here to grant it." Suddenly, within the grasp of his hand, a crystal clear ball fluently appeared. He started turning it, spinning it. Displaying tricks that seemed impossible for any human to do.

"Not all young girls get this privilege. What I'm offering you is far more than what anyone can simply have." Within the crystal ball, a vision began to play. A dream. One that happened during one of your day dreams. "I can take you there, you know, all you have to do is ask."

"Dreams can be made." You said simply. "There was merely a misunderstanding."

"And yet your dreams can be granted. Look at what I'm offering you y/n, a life far more than your own, a place where you're understood, a land in which none can harm you. A world completely of your own." He spoke as if he knew you completely, as if he'd been observing you each day, watching your dreams.

"I—I couldn't, what of my family, my friends, my loved ones." You say in a soft whisper.

"What of them—the deed is done y/n, and I'm afraid there's not much you can do now." He whimsicaly spoke with a cunning tone.

"There must be—surely—if there's a way to counter any deal, curse, or legend. Then, there must be a way for a wish."

"Hm, quite the insightful young thing, aren't you. Very well, I shall give you a chance to take back your wish if—you complete my labyrinth."

"Labyrinth?" You questioned whether or not such a place exists. After all, it's not like you could simply teleport to where he was speaking of.

Suddenly, turning behind you, you were met with a great, vast plane and seeing a stoned architecture resembling a maze with a castle in the middle. "You have 18 hours to complete my labyrinth or."

"You shall be trapped here forever." With that, his voice disappeared within the wind. As you turned to ask "wait but, how do I—hm?, ok, guess I'm on my own."

With that you were on your way.

What you hadn't known was that he had watched you from the start. Taking fascination in only you when the rest were only but white noise.

He could've sworn he dreamt of you once or twice yet, to his astoundment, you were as real as the throne he sits on.

To you, you had no idea how excited you made him. He only wanted you as interested in him as he was in you.

Even if you couldn't recognise it, he wanted to trap you forever within a dream where he could finally have a companion that could understand him. Build worlds and new domains for his labyrinth. To finally have a queen/king/royal by his side to hold forever.

He wouldn't have approached if you were not of interest. Many have attempted to catch his interest and yet failed. After Sarah, no one could capture his care nor attention. He was left within a void. Until you came along.

For now, you were his dream, a wish he could grant, and he plans on keeping it.

[writtenbychris]

Could I have an x reader with what it would be like to be queen or if you stayed with the goblin king

oh, you have awoken the beast

Aka me

This is how I imagine life with Jareth would be like if you had decided to stay and become his queen

Jareth likes things to be dramatic. He loves it when things are magnificent, glorious, almost theatrical in a certain sense. So there isn't a single double in my mind that he'd want his wedding to be that, but TENFOLD. I'm talking gigantic wedding dress; ginormous, almost comically large ten tier wedding cake; every single inch of the castle is decorated; the ballroom is huge enough to fit the ENTIRE labyrinth inside of it, you get it. Jareth is absolutely not cutting corners for the wedding and he wants everything, absolutely everything to be perfect. If anybody so much as even breathes too loudly during the vows, they're about to get real familiar with the Bog of Eternal Stench..

Congratulations, fair maiden, for you are now the queen! But what now..?

To any outsider looking in, Jareth is just about as cuddly as a cactus.

They are correct. Kind of..

Jareth does love you, that is why he wanted you to be his queen of course, but he is a "grand gestures of affection" kind of guy more than a "small acts of service" kind of guy.

That being said, that doesn't mean that King Jareth isn't chivalrous to you, you are his queen of course, but he prefers to save the more intimate displays of love for when you two are in private. This man will throw the two of you a big ball for your anniversary but will look at you funny if you talk to him about using petnames outside of "my love" or "my darling" in front of others. The only time he’s willing to show physical affection to you in public is when he's showing you off to the goblins. The reason why Jareth does this isn't because he doesn't think you're worthy or that he's ashamed of you. It's because he thinks that quite frankly, his love for his wife is nobody else's business.

As I said, Jareth only does PDA when he feels like showing you off to everyone. And boy does he love to show off his beautiful wife. Since your throne is obviously right next to his, when he's partying up in the throne room, let's use playing a card game for example, he likes to have you sitting on your throne so that he can grab you and kiss you whenever he wins and everybody cheers when this happens (I kinda got that idea after watching Beowulf.. 💀)

Would Jareth ever admit to you that he has a soft spot for you? Maybe privately. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love fucking with you just as he does everybody else. But his fucking with you is just petty stuff like controlling your dreams, setting back the time by an hour, and appearing and disappearing in front of you at random rather than torturing you in the labyrinth.

Speaking of the labyrinth, EVENING STROLLS THROUGH THE LABYRINTH WITH JARETH?? Sign me up now. Those are one of the times where he's actually willing to kiss you, call you personal petnames, or have actually deep conversations with him. Or if he's feeling particularly romantic, he'll slowdance with you through the labyrinth. He'll take in every detail of you, he'll smile at you when you lock eyes with him, he'll tell you how much he loves you and how happy he is to have you as his queen.

If any of the townspeople or the king's court disrespects you, it's straight to the bog. Nobody disrespects JARETH'S queen and lives to tell the tale. You are too precious for him to allow that to happen. One time you were yelled at by a castle staff member for "sitting immodestly" and Jareth was immediately on them like white on rice. There are certain things that he just simply cannot stand for, and being rude to you is definitely one of them.

Jareth makes a big stink about wanting you to respect/obey him, but what he doesn't tell you is that you have him completely wrapped around your finger (even though you've pretty much figured it out for yourself at this point, lmfao)

I said earlier that he doesn't do PDA except for this this and that, but sometimes he breaks his own rules. A little peck on the cheek or a hug every once in a while never hurt anyone! And he also won't go out of his way to push you away if you were the one to initiate it.

If you are the opposite of him, he'll be incredibly intrigued by you. It may even be the very thing that caught his attention the day he first laid eyes on you. Kindness and hospitality is a near foreign concept in the Goblin Kingdom, so everyone would be astounded to see that the woman who married who could possibly be the meanest king in goblin history (aka Jareth), is actually an incredibly kind and compassionate girl. Whether he likes to admit it or not, you have at least somewhat inspired your husband to be more sympathetic and he both loves and and hates the amount of power you (seemingly) unknowingly have over him.

(Also he used his magic to make you immortal and give you powers as well so now you can be immortal magical motherfuckers for the rest of time together how fun is thattttttt!!!)

A/N: I'm sorry I know this is bad but a combination of 2 months writers block + just getting into the fandom and being 90% asleep writing this at 5 am will do that to you, lmao

divider creds go to @anitalenia

[hotpinkboots]

~~~~~

~"𝓜𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌"~

(Jareth the Goblin King x Fem!Reader Oneshot)

Summary: (Y/N) is woken up by her annoying boyfriend, who reluctantly makes up for his bothersome behavior.

How long it took to write: 1 hour

~~~~~

𝕵𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖍 was an early riser. He enjoyed the quietness of the morning. He enjoyed watching over you as you began your early stages of awakening, stretching your legs and giving a sleepy grunt. Most mornings, he allowed you to wake up whenever you wished to, and to sleep as long as you needed.

Other times, he woke up feeling cheeky. One of the greatest perks of being married was to have somebody to annoy.

Sometimes, he'd be so excited for you to wake up that he'd kiss your cheek until you opened your eyes. Other times, he would send a goblin in to spook you awake. You hated that. He got a kick out of it.

Your favorite way of being woken up was the rare occasion that Jareth would turn into an owl for you. He didn't do it often- perhaps he didn't wish for you to see him as cute. Jareth used to think he looked like a noble winged beast as a barn owl, but you seemed to think that he was a cute feathered gentleman. This put him in an odd space, somewhere in between his ego being stroked and feeling exasperated.

Jareth lay on his side, his head propped up by his hand. He looked down at you as you began your first signs of consciousness, giving you a good morning kiss on the cheek. You furrowed your brows, which in turn caused him to smirk and give a brief chuckle under his breath.

"Oh, poor (Y/N). Do I bother you already?" Jareth asked quietly, fondly brushing his knuckle down your jawline. Seeing you scrunch up your nose and flinch away only made Jareth's desire to be annoying even greater.

"Stop," you demanded in a low and hoarse tone. Jareth responded by continuing to pester you in subtle but loving ways- nudging you gently, kissing you tenderly, until you finally turned away from him. The moment you mumbled an angry curse at him was the moment he realized he had gone too far to annoy you.

"Forgive me, darling," apologized Jareth.

You waved him away dismissively.

Jareth's eyes drifted shut. He sighed quietly in defeat.

The next thing you knew, something soft and feathery was gently bumping into the back of your neck. Your eyes opened immediately, a sleepy smile growing upon your lips. You turned once again, this time to face him. Jareth nuzzled into you, cooing and fluffing up his feathers.

"You're so cute!" You gushed over him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Jareth hopped back and raised his wings defensively, hoping you'd get the general message of "look, don't touch". Unfortunately for him, it was impossible for you to obey this rule, especially since you knew that he secretly enjoyed it when you fawned over him.

Eventually, Jareth found a comfortable spot against your chest, allowing you to pet and pamper him. You never expected him to be so cuddly. You enjoyed the silence of the morning together, when the goblins hadn't yet awakened, when the world was quiet. You exhaled drowsily.

"I forgive you."

~~~~~

Request Guidelines!

~Love, Pink

[aesthetic-bbyg]

he’s fine asf but y’all are not ready for that convo.

[fallingfavourites]

teasing my (first) criminal minds fisher king based fic instead continuing to editing it <3

full fic is out !!

Everyone on the team had gotten 2 weeks off. Elle and Derek decided to not waste a second of it and flew away to Jamaica. Hotchner went to spend time with his family. Gideon would most likely be birdwatching in his cabin if you had to guess, he doesn’t like sharing much about his personal life. Neither does Reid who is heading back home to Las Vegas. You had just ended up on your couch with a cozy blanket and a movie you had been meaning to watch. A sudden loud ringing made you jump up. Rubbing your eyes so they can refocus.

You had fallen asleep. You would’ve laughed at yourself if it wasn’t for the constant loud ringing. Finally, finding your phone between the blanket you picked up without looking at the caller ID.  “Y/n? Y/n?” It took a second for you to register JJ’s voice as she repeated your name.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m here is everything okay?” you asked, running a hand through your hair. “You need to get to the office. Now.” She sounded serious.

“What happened?” You asked as you vaguely heard someone talk to JJ. It kind of sounded like Gideon. If he came to the office, it must be serious. “Tell me when I get there, I’m on my way.” You said, not even waiting for her to respond to your question and hung up.

[here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can]

“What is it with this daddy shit?”

- David Bowie

[thesecretestofsimps]

I keep opening Tumblr hoping that suddenly my for you will be filled with nothing but Labyrinth content, or that suddenly Jareth will make a GIANT comeback somehow and the writers'll start posting Jareth x reader content again cuz im too damn lazy to always type out what i wanna read 😭 but nothing ever changes.

[janaem]

Let Me Rule You

Jareth x f.reader

This is Chapter 2 (Wish) | previous chapter Word count: 5.5k (22 pages) Warnings for this chapter: swearing, arguments, blood, use of weapons Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name header image is an oil painting by licieoic

The rest of the day was Y/n spending time in her room reading Labyrinth. She was sprawled lazily on her bed on her back, one of her windows cracked as she felt the warm summer dusk breeze tickle her skin.

She began to feel familiar with the intricate details and made mental comparisons between the novel and the movie. Despite only watching the film once, Y/n felt as though she remembered all of it; it was tattooed in her brain, and she didn't intend to forget it.

Every time she immersed herself in Jareth's dialogue, she couldn't help but hear it in his deep, captivating voice, which sent shivers down her spine as if he was standing right behind her, softly whispering in her ear. She longed for his words from the book to be portrayed in the movie, but reading allowed her to envision Jareth's dialogues in a way that was uniquely her own. It felt like she was directing a personal movie in her mind, one that she never wanted to end.

She was more than halfway through the book when she set it down and grabbed her phone, ignoring the notification on her lock screen. She opened a music app and looked up the Labyrinth soundtrack, scrolling to the song that she couldn't quite resist the most.

She put on her headphones, her left hand in the spot in the book where she left off, and pressed play, allowing the music to electrify her senses like a sudden bolt of lightning.

"How you turn my world into a precious thing…"

His voice trembled with vulnerability and longing, sending a wave of heat rushing down her body. She couldn't help but shut her eyes, savoring the electric sensation as she pictured Jareth in his sleek black leather waistcoat and vibrant red long-sleeved shirt.

"You starve and near exhaust me."

"Everything I've done, I've done for you…"

"I move the stars for no one."

She swallows a lump in her throat. Her eyes began to sting. She allows his evocative voice to seize her senses.

"You've run so long, you've run so far…"

"Your eyes can be so cruel."

As Y/n listened to the melancholic tunes, a sudden rush of excitement overwhelmed her, a feeling she hadn't experienced while listening to a song in a long time.

In her mind's eye, she envisioned Jareth striding towards her, his hand outstretched, offering a crystal ball filled with dreams. She imagined him staring intensely at her with a daring look, his thin lips forming a seductive smirk so captivating that Y/n could swear she felt her body pulsating with anticipation. Her eyes remained fixed on Jareth; her heart seemed to leap into her throat in that instant.

"Just as I can be so cruel."

She found herself unable to pinpoint the exact reason for her attraction. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of his drowsy yet intense gaze and angular eyebrows accentuating his sly grin, or maybe it was the hypnotic timbre of his voice. His words seemed to caress her like a sudden rush of water trickling down her goosebump ridden skin. She so desperately wanted to open her mouth and shamelessly consume it, letting it drip down the corners of her mouth—into her throat.

"Oh, I do believe in you…"

Y/n started to picture herself reaching for the ball; her focus momentarily fixed. Jareth let it settle into her grasp as he continued to outstretch a gloved hand towards her chin. The leather cool against her skin as he gently caressed it. Y/n draws irresistibly closer, feeling the pulsating between her thighs intensify.

Jareth's thumb traced the curve of her bottom lip with deliberate slowness, igniting a flutter of anticipation within her. She stumbled slightly, finding herself leaning into his embrace, allowing his arm to snake around the small of her waist. The sensation of his breath brushing against her face made her close her eyes in surrender.

Her lips parted further, ready for whatever he was going to give her the minute he started to inch closer....

Y/n was suddenly startled by rapid thumping on the windowpane.

She lifted her head up only to see nothing.

"The hell?" She questioned irritably, for no tree branches barely brushed her window. She huffed and thumped her head against her bed, looking up at the ceiling, disappointed that she'd lost her train of thought. But what wasn't lost was the aching between her thighs.

"Y/n, I would appreciate it if I could get some help around here," her mother called from downstairs sarcastically, "you've been upstairs all day. I've barely seen you."

With an exasperated huff, Y/n rolled out of bed, descending the spiral of dark wooden stairs.

M/n was seen chopping up garlic for a salad; she loved to add garlic to almost every meal because it was healthy. Y/n couldn't stand it.

"Can you chop up the lettuce, please?" M/n requested that the garlic pieces be put into the wooden salad bowl. And what have you been doing all day?"

"Reading," Y/n replied dryly, taking a knife and cutting the lettuce stem.

"What book did you get?" M/n asked, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a cucumber from one of the bottom shelves.

"It's called Labyrinth. It's based on a movie I watched last night."

"So that's what you were doing instead of helping. Stuck on a movie and a book that will do you no good."

"Mom, enough."

"What about your prep for college? Did you sign up for your orientation like you were supposed to?"

"Mom, please, I completed those things weeks ago, and you know that. My orientation isn't until next month!"

"I'm sure there are more things you need to complete." M/n continued grabbing the pieces of lettuce y/n and placing them in the salad bowl. At this point, she was interrogating the poor girl.

"I was only having leisure time, that's all," Y/n replied with slumped shoulders, for she was tired of going back and forth.

"You always have leisure time," M/n shot back, "you don't do anything-"

"Alright, that's enough! I don't wanna hear it anymore!"

M/n stopped her work and turned to Y/n with eyes of fire as if she were about to tear her apart.

"Who are you raising your voice at?" She asked slowly.

“What- I-“ y/n stammered.

"No, no, no," M/n's voice was louder, filling the quiet space of the kitchen; Y/n couldn't help but wince, "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Before Y/n could answer, her mother grabbed her arm so hard, digging her fingertips into her flesh.

"No, you listen to me-" M/n began, her voice plummeting fiercely into Y/n's eardrums.

"No! I'm not going to listen to you. Why? Because I'm an adult, and I am sick and tired of you treating me like a child!" Y/n's voice erupted with anger as she forcefully tore her arm from her mother's grip, surprised at how easily it came free. She stepped back, her chest heaving with frustration and resentment.

"You're never satisfied with me, no matter what I do! All you care about is being 'productive,' but it's just controlling! You expect everyone to think and act the way you do, and when they don't, you act like they're wrong!" Her words sliced through the air like knives, each one laced with years of pent-up frustration and hurt.

Her eyes blazed with defiance, daring her mother to challenge her.

Y/n's mother scoffed dismissively, her tone dripping with condescension. "Y/N, give me a break. I'm not falling for whatever tactic this is anymore. This has gone on for too long, and you need to be more mature. You haven't lifted a finger in days, and your dad isn't even here! All you think about is yourself, and I'm tired of repeating myself over and over again. If you want to be treated like an adult, then start acting like one."

Her words landed like a verbal slap, stoking the fire of Y/n's frustration even further. The accusation of selfishness cut deep, but Y/n refused to back down.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Mom, you've hindered my maturity and growth for however long. You never give me a chance to think about things-"

"I wish you would blame me for the way you turned out. You simply don't think."

"That's because growing up, you always had to think for me," Y/n asserted, taking a deliberate step forward. "The reason my friends are so mature and independent is because their parents leave them the hell alone."

"Do you have to swear, Y/n," M/n's mom questioned, shaking her head, "you bless the devil by doing that."

"Oh no, the devils gonna get me," Y/n mocked, throwing her mother off a bit, "so be it."

Y/n and her mother stood in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering tension. M/n's initial surprise shifted into a deep disappointment as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she began to nod, her thoughts racing for a response.

"You're grounded; hand me your phone, computer, remote, and that book. We're finished here."

The words landed like a heavy blow to Y/n's chest, each item listed a tangible loss in the sudden turn of events. Her mother's decree was final, leaving no room for negotiation or reconciliation at that moment.

"What-why the book? I haven't even finished it–"

"That's alright. Once you're finished with it, I expect it to be turned in. You won't be seeing it until you're packed for college."

That managed to ease y/n's surging anger, keeping it at bay. But why for so long?

Stinging of tears threatened to spill over. Y/n turned away from her mother without a word and headed upstairs, her steps heavy with the weight of frustration and hurt. She closed the door to her room firmly behind her, shutting out the world and the echoes of their heated exchange.

"Phone, computer, and remote!" Her mom shouted from upstairs.

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n muttered. She took the labyrinth book from her bed and looked over its crimson cover, tracing her thumb and feeling its smoothness. Frustration started to course through her veins, knowing that she wouldn't see it for a while after she'd finished it.

She stacked her laptop and phone on top of her desk, oblivious to the various thumping noises she was making.

She went downstairs, not planning to speak to her mother.

She sets the stack on the counter, ignoring M/n's "thank you."

Y/n was more than halfway through the book, with only 35 pages to go. She wasn't a slow reader; she just wanted to soak in every detail the Labyrinth had to offer, making sure to picture each interaction and character vividly. That's what she loved about books: the ability to visualize and submerge herself into foreign lands better than her own.

Back in her room, she sinks into the plush covers of her bed and continues to delve into the land of the Labyrinth, mentally noting each character individually.

Y/n found herself really liking Sarah's character, especially how she kept her cool through such a complex maze of challenges. She admired Sarah's resourcefulness and how she brought her friends into the mix to boost her chances against Jareth.

What really stood out to Y/n was the depth and detail in the book compared to the movie. It gave her a better understanding of the characters' thoughts and feelings, which she loved analyzing. Getting more insight into Sarah's relationship with her mom was a big plus too—it added a whole new layer of emotion and understanding.

She paid close attention to Jareth and was especially shocked when he kissed Sarah in the ballroom.

"That's weird," Y/n muttered as she thoroughly read the scene, "they didn't kiss in the movie."

"Trust me," Jareth said, moving his face close to hers. "Can you do that?"

"Jesus." Y/n breathed, feeling the tension through the words.

As Y/n delved deeper into the chapter where the Junk Lady attempts to distract Sarah with materialistic temptations, she found herself captivated by the poignant symbolism woven into the narrative.

Y/n looked up from the spot, her hand placed gently on where she stopped, eyes furrowed, and lips parted.

"This is quite literally all a setup. The Labyrinth seems more than a maze full of convoluted riddles and pathways." Y/n pondered as she suddenly stopped reading.

Her thoughts started swirling with the parallels between Sarah's journey in the Labyrinth and her life aboveground. The more she reflected, the more convinced she became that something was orchestrated about Sarah's challenges. No doubt Jareth was behind it all, but there was a tint of something else.

"Hoggle was waiting for her... like he knew she was coming," Y/n murmured, tapping her fingers on the page. She remembered how Sarah encountered helpful creatures at almost every turn — the worm, Ludo, even Sir Didymus. Each encounter seemed almost too conveniently timed as if the Labyrinth itself had a hand in guiding her.

"And those doors," Y/n continued, recalling the puzzling moments in the story. "Sarah guessed the riddle correctly, yet ended up in the same place anyway. And the Bog of Eternal Stench, why didn't Sarah smell bad when she hopped on top of those rocks that emerged from the bog water?"

Without warning, the bedroom door slammed open, and M/n stormed in, her sunglasses perched defiantly on her head and her designer purse swinging with purpose.

"Y/n, I need to run to the store. I forgot things for dinner," she declared tersely, not stopping to acknowledge the disarray of Y/n's room or the drawn curtains she criticized. "This room is a disaster. Why are these curtains shut? Open them and let in some light."

Y/n's irritation simmered as she bit her lip, struggling to hold back a retort. She watched with a knot in her stomach as her mother rifled through drawers, criticizing and rummaging through everything in her path.

"Why are your clothes all crumpled? You just did laundry. Why do you always treat your things so carelessly, Y/n?"

"Bye, Mom."

"No, you'll answer me like an adult."

"Adults don't have to answer everything."

"As long as you're under my roof, you will answer every question I ask."

Y/n met her mother's gaze, silently challenging her to leave.

In response, M/n spun around, yanking out armfuls of clothes and flinging them onto the floor with reckless abandon. Drawer after drawer, she created a chaotic landscape of fabric—shirts, jeans, socks—all strewn across the once pristine floor.

Y/n stood frozen in disbelief, her nerves frayed as the room transformed into a battleground of wills. The sight of her belongings tossed aside like meaningless clutter felt like an assault on her sanctuary.

"All these clothes need to be folded properly," M/n commanded, dumping a final heap of swimwear on the growing pile. "And get rid of anything you don't want."

With that final decree, M/n left without waiting for a response, leaving Y/n to confront the aftermath of her fury.

As the echo of the slamming door reverberated through the house, Y/n abandoned the book, got up from the comfort of her bed, and stood amidst the wreckage.

Her chest was tight with unspoken frustration. And right there the helpless girl crumbled.

She sank onto the floor, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions and the crushing weight of expectations she couldn't wrap around.

The room seemed to close around her, the mess a physical manifestation of her mother's control.

She shook, hiccuped, and sobbed loudly, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disconnected from everything around her. She could barely feel her knees pressing against her bedroom floor.

The house phone began to ring.

Groaning, Y/n trudged out of her room and to one of the house phones that was sitting snugly on a dresser.

“Hello?” she answered upon picking it up.

“Y/n, can you please put your remote downstairs? I forgot to tell you that I didn’t see it. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” her mom instructed.

“Yeah.” Y/n answered dismissively.

“Love you, bye.” her mom answered.

Without replying, Y/n hangs up and stomps back to her room.

She walked over to the bed looking for her remote which she knew was submerged in the covers somewhere.

Finally finding it, she grabbed it and turned back to the hefty pile of clothes that were still a heaping mess on the floor. There was one particular pile of clothes that she no longer needed anymore, so she lifted up the small pile.

“I wish the goblins would take mom away,” she plopped the remote on top, “right fucking now.”

She chuckled at her silly joke, deep resentment for her mother continued to rise in her chest.

Y/n descended the stairs with a purpose, tossing the clothes into the familiar "giveaway" box positioned by the garage door. It had become a regular chore for the family, ensuring a steady stream of donations to local centers.

Still clad in her navy blue cami top, gray sweats, and white socks, Y/n ambled into the kitchen, where a neglected salad bowl lay surrounded by remnants of onions, garlic, lettuce, and spring mix. Feeling the pang of hunger, she opted for a quick fix—a frozen bean and rice burrito that she tossed into the microwave.

As the burrito spun, heating up, an unsettling sound reverberated through the house, causing D/n, their faithful companion, to emit a low growl from somewhere distant. Y/n paused, dismissing the noise initially as a stray branch from the backyard trees colliding with a windowpane. She retrieved the now steaming burrito, placing it carefully on a porcelain plate, and relished the first bite—a warm combination of rice, beans, and cheese that elicited a contented hum of pleasure.

But the tranquility shattered as D/n growled again, the thumping sound resuming with increased intensity. Y/n frowned, setting down her half-eaten burrito and swiftly grabbing a knife from the rack near the coffee maker. Though violent incidents were rare in Evansville, her avid consumption of crime shows had prepared her for the possibility of intruders.

With determination etched on her face, she crossed into the living room where the rhythmic thumping persisted that was coming from the large windows. The curtains billowed ominously, threatening to burst with each impact against the glass. D/n stood, tail erect, emitting a series of deep barks and growls that mirrored Y/n's own rising apprehension.

Knife gripped tightly, Y/n cautiously approached the curtains. Her heart raced as an eerie, non-human laugh echoed from her left. She whipped around, knife poised defensively.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice wavering slightly despite her attempt to sound resolute.

Another unsettling giggle pierced the air, mingling with the relentless thumping that had now grown even more frenzied.

A shadow darted behind the flatscreen television, prompting D/n to shift its attention. Y/n pivoted, ready to confront the unseen intruder, her senses heightened.

Then, a furry sensation brushed against her leg. Y/n looked down in alarm, locking eyes with a grotesque creature—a snout twisted and burned, with jagged yellow teeth set against dark fur-covered skin. Its height stopped right below her knee.

Instinctively, she kicked it forcefully, sending the creature tumbling backward onto the couch. Before she could recover, another creature emerged from behind the curtain, emitting a shrill, disturbing laugh that chilled her to the bone.

Y/n and D/n sprang into action, darting around the room in a frantic attempt to corner the elusive intruders. They ignored the persistent thumping now audible from the other window, focusing solely on defending their territory.

Not wasting another moment, Y/n retreated to the kitchen counter where her phone, laptop, and remote lay in a neat stack. With the knife tucked securely under her arm, she dialed 911, her fingers trembling.

Before Y/n could press the dial button, a small, gnarled hand seized her phone, startling her into action.

Her eyes widened as she found herself face to face with a goblin.

Its snout was grotesquely twisted, resembling a pig's, with eyes that were oddly close-set and resembled googly eyes, complete with red irises. The creature sported a rusty helmet atop its misshapen head, its eyebrows mere wisps of hair.

Reacting swiftly, Y/n lunged with her knife, stabbing the goblin squarely in the shoulder. It screeched in pain, its voice cracked and shrill.

"Ahh! She gots me, she gots me! Ahh!" The goblin wailed, writhing in agony.

Y/n didn't hesitate, stabbing again, this time aiming for its eye. The creature bellowed in pain once more, its shrill cries echoing in the room.

Unbeknownst to her, another smaller goblin lurked, ready to pounce from behind. But before it could strike, D/n sprang into action, leaping on the creature and pinning it down with a growl.

"This dog, oh!" The goblin grumbled in a low, grimy voice, clearly displeased with its predicament.

Y/n's phone clattered to the floor amidst the chaos. She moved to retrieve it, only for it to be kicked out of sight in the scuffle.

“Fuck!” she cursed seeing it skid over to the further end of the kitchen. Her hand was bloodied from goblin blood and she felt disgusting, but she had to keep fighting.

Y/n was still knelt on the ground and she peered behind her seeing that D/n had trapped the smaller goblin underneath their weight.

Y/n scurried over and yanked the goblin from their grasp.

“Good boy/girl.” she praised throwing the goblin so that it hit the wall with a thump, knocking it unconscious.

Another goblin, a taller, sturdier one, charged to the direction of her phone that was at the other side of the kitchen by the refrigerator.

"No, no, no!" Y/n gasped, sprinting across the room with her bloodied knife clutched tightly. She reached the goblin just as it raised its ax to smash her phone. With a surge of adrenaline, she grabbed the creature by its neck, struggling with its surprising weight as she hoisted it up and flung it forcefully to the far end of the room.

"I guess going to the gym does pay off at times," she muttered to herself wryly, her heart racing from the exertion. She quickly retrieved her phone, stuffing it into her pocket while scanning her surroundings frantically.

Nearby, the unconscious goblin lay sprawled on the floor, her faithful dog, D/n, was engaged in a fierce struggle with the bloodied goblin, and the third goblin staggered to its feet weakly, attempting to regain its composure after being thrown down.

Y/n took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever might come next. Gripping her knife firmly, she remained on high alert, ready to defend herself against any further threats that dared to invade her home.

“D/n! Come here,” She commanded, and her dog was immediately by her side, “stay by me, okay?”

Y/n and D/n cautiously returned to the living room, the thumping noise still reverberating. Despite her fear, she approached the source of commotion.

With trembling hands, she pulled aside the curtains and was comforted by the sight that made her blood run cold.

A white barn owl, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity, was flapping menacingly at the door. Before Y/n could react, the owl launched itself, shattering the window with a thunderous crash and swooping into the room like a missile.

Y/n gasped in horror, shielding her face as glass shards flew in all directions. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on the cold wooden floor. The shards of glass continued to rain down, and despite her efforts to protect herself, Y/n felt the sting of cuts on her forearm, chest, and face. Pain shot through her, but she clutched her knife tightly, ready to defend herself.

The owl, now inside the room, attacked ferociously. It clawed at Y/n's arms, slapped her with its wings, and tangled its feathers in her hair. Y/n fought back desperately, swinging her knife blindly until the owl finally retreated, leaving her shaken.

As the chaos settled, Y/n slowly rose to her feet, D/n watching her with concern. She gripped the knife tightly, scanning the shattered room. Bile rose in her throat and tears started stinging her eyes once more.

"Mom's gonna fucking kill me," she muttered bitterly, her voice wavering with emotion, “shit.”

"You won't have to worry about that," a voice said, cutting through the tense silence.

Y/n gasped and turned to the direction of the voice.

Leaning against the unshattered window stood a tall, lithe figure, glittering specks scattered at his feet. His black leather boots complemented black tights, and he wore a ruffled black undershirt with a deep vee, topped by a black half corset adorned with intricate designs and buckles. A long, flowing cape draped gracefully to the ground.

She took in his face, noting the striking sharpness of his features. High cheekbones and an angled chin were framed by a wild, tousled mane of blond hair.

"So, this is the thanks I get?" he remarked, his voice laced with bitterness and amusement.

He studied Y/n’s face, dewy with sweat and marked by blood splotches near her eyebrow and upper cheekbone. Her wet lips were parted, and eyes were challenging. His mismatched eyes swiftly scanned her body, noting the strap of the navy blue cami top slipping off her sweaty shoulder. Y/n’s entire body glistened with sweat, a trickle of blood tracing down her pristine chest as it heaved harshly.

"Who the hell are you?" Y/n demanded, though she already had a sinking feeling she knew the answer.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied in a haughty manner, the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Why are you here?" she pressed, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.

"Why do you insist on asking questions you already know the answers to?" he retorted, his mismatched eyes glinting with an unsettling intensity.

“This must be a dream or something,” y/n breathed, “because there’s no way David Bowie is in my house right now.”

The male furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her joke, “what?”

“David Bowie…” Y/n repeated slowly, “are you not…?”

“I don’t know who this Dave Bowel you speak of.”

“Jeez, have some respect for the dead..”

“My condolences.” Jareth replied dryly.

Y/n kissed her teeth, Jareth sarcasm was really on a roll this evening.

Jareth points behind her, “Look there.”

Y/n turned around only to be faced by a clean and ordered room. All of the shards of glass vanished and the window is back in its place.

“You’re free now to do whatever you please.”

“I’m free?” Y/n asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Forget about your mother.”

The knife that was once in Y/n’s hand fell onto the floor with a loud clunk.

“You took my mother?” She said in disbelief.

“Isn’t that what you asked for?” Jareth said with a raised brow, for he found Y/n’s reaction quite amusing.

“But—wait—I was kidding!”

“Were you now?”

“Yes. I won’t say anything like that again I promise! Just please bring my mom back.”

Jareth made his way closer to Y/n until he was only a breath away, their eyes locking like old foes reunited in a clash of wills.

“What comes out of your mouth, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper. He outstretched his gloved hand, his fingers grazing her chest, “contradicts the desires of your heart.”

A shiver ran through Y/n at his touch, her breath hitching as she found herself unable to break free from the intensity of his gaze, which bore into her with a fierce and unsettling determination.

“Please.” She whispered.

"Please what?" He trailed his fingers to her jaw, smoothing his thumb along her chin with a maddening slowness.

This touch was more electrifying than she had ever envisioned, sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"I'm sure this feels very familiar to you, Y/n," he said slyly, his voice dripping with mischief and unspoken promises.

"What are you-"

"Save the absurd questions for another time," he cut in, his thumb gliding from the curve of her chin to the base of her swollen lips, lingering there with deliberate pressure.

Heat ignited between Y/n's legs once again, more intense and insistent than before.

"There won't be another time," she hissed, tearing her head away hastily, her gaze burning with defiance even as her body betrayed her.

“You are seriously fucked in the head for seducing me into forgetting my own mom.”

“It doesn’t take much to do that.” Jareth retorted in a matter of fact tone.

“Don’t act like you know me. I’m not Sarah!” She spat.

Jarerh’s expression dropped, he irritably sighed, “No you're not,” he regained his composure right then and there, “but you’re just like every other teenage girl.”

“How would you know that?”

“I know the desires of your heart.”

“Like hell you do.”

“Sarah was not the only one who ran my labyrinth.” His voice ran cold suddenly.

“But she was the only one who conquered it.” He finished.

Their eyes stayed locked, and for a long moment, the air between them crackled with electric tension. Neither was willing to back down, both poised on the edge of something inevitable.

“Sometimes I wonder who will be the next conqueror,” Jareth murmured, his voice low and suggestive, his gaze burning into Y/n's.

“So you're suggesting I run the labyrinth to save my mom?” She asked, her voice carrying a challenge of its own.

Jareth smirked.

"Alright," Y/n challenged, bending down to pick up her knife. She flipped it in the air and caught it perfectly. "I'll do it. But don't expect me to give up easily."

"You stabbing and flinging my subjects around proves enough," Jareth replied, looking down at his arm and mockingly brushing it with his hand. "Nearly chopped my wing off with that knife. You are a bold thing." He chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked back up at her.

"Alright, save it. Where's the Labyrinth?" Y/n pushed irritably, her patience wearing thin.

“Such haste won’t get you anywhere.” Jareth replied.

“But I already know the rules, I’ve watched the movie, I have thirteen hours to solve or my mom will turn into a goblin.” She recited.

Jareth furrowed her eyebrows once more, “Movie?”

Y/n waved her hand dismissively, “Never mind.”

“You’ve read the book. That’s how you know.”

“Uh yeah.” Y/n then started to wonder if Jareth even knew what a movie was.

"But since you're so confident," Jareth started, circling her slowly, his eyes never leaving her, "I'll give you ten hours."

"You can't just do that!" Y/n protested, incredulous at the arbitrary time limit.

"It is my labyrinth where I can do what I please," Jareth replied nonchalantly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"But I never said I was confident; I said I wouldn't give up. There's a difference between determination and cockiness," Y/n retorted, meeting Jareth's challenging gaze head-on.

Jareth's expression tightened, and he took a sharp breath, his stance growing tense as he ceased his circling. Silently, he gestured behind Y/n. Turning, she faced the once shattered window, now revealing the ominous maze of the labyrinth, with the castle looming in the distance like a coveted prize.

"Looks challenging doesn’t it?" Jareth taunted, leaning close to her ear, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.

"Ten hours. That's all you've left me," Y/n huffed bitterly.

Jareth snorted, his demeanor shifting as he backed away from her. "I'm simply treating you as you wish to be treated," he countered.

Turning to face him, Y/n's eyes narrowed. "And how is that?" she challenged, bracing herself for his next barb.

"Like an adult," he shot back, his voice slicing through the tense silence like a blade.

Y/n fought to maintain her composure, her heart racing at his words.

"Such a pity," Jareth added, his tone cold and cutting.

Ignoring his provocations, Y/n began to stride forward, only to halt abruptly.

"My dog," she exclaimed, looking back, but Jareth had vanished.

From behind a nearby tree emerged D/n, wagging their tail in greeting.

"D/n!" Y/n exclaimed joyfully, scooping up her furry companion in a tight embrace.

"Ten hours," Jareth's voice echoed ominously.

Startled by his sudden reappearance through his voice alone, Y/n quickly rose to her feet and proceeded down the sloping path towards the labyrinth's entrance.

"Let's do this."

[mikyapixie]

Naruto Is Doing A Collaboration With Burger King France!!!

[justafairytailofinnocence]

How the goblin king would be if he's jealous ✨️👨‍🎤😈

Jareth x reader ✨️👑

(A/n: hello I'm back at it again, here's another one, also working on a one shot currently. T/n= Their Name.)

Sitting upon his throne, the king slumped with boredom. Watching his goblin henchmen run around, guffawing at the mischief they caused.

Thinning his lips, he summoned a crystal ball from thin air. The visage in the crystal turned to an image of you, happy, joyous and—in the arms of—someone—that's not him!

He smirked with a cocky bravado. "So, the swaine has decided his sweet paramour."

He scoffed. "My, how tragically quaint."

"How is it, you, dear y/n, could choose a doltish commoner over a ruling king? Such a baffling exasperation."

The king decided enough was enough and declared you shall be his whether you liked it or lumped it.

------

You chuckled lightly speaking to your partner. The winds picked up as you walked alone with them along the sidewalk. You weren't the fanciest of folk. You didn't believe in showing your grandest gestures all over the internet.

All that made you happy was a cup of tea, in front of the TV with them in your arms.

As you got back home, locked up for the night preparing to get ready for bed. You heard a whisper, a little voice in the wind. "Y/n".

You turned around. Your eyes widened, your lips parted.

Nothing. Your mind was playing tricks on you again.

"If there's a ghost, I swear." You muttered.

You made it to your bedroom. Your partner was brushing their teeth in the bathroom.

You wandered over to the window, opening it wide, letting the air come in.

A blur flew in through the window. You ducked confused.

You looked up, seeing a barn owl perched on your shelf. It turned its head to look at you.

You blinked twice, reaching out to the owl when you heard. "Y/n, y/n, the ever so prudent creature. Have you any idea of how you turned my world upside down."

The owl, in a flash, transformed into a man before you. Your lips unfurled, as if seeing a rabbit being pulled from a hat. He had sharp features with glam make up, donning a flowing jacket.

Confused you backed up. "What? How?"

"When? Where?" He sardonically smiled. "Really y/n, and I thought you'd be joyous to see my return."

"What do you want." You asked.

He snickered "must I spell it out for you."

"Oh, fine, I'll humour you, I've grown dreary watching you. I've come to take you away from your droll life." He leaned against the wall.

"Uh, how about no and leave, I don't want T/N to see you." Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, them, that thing, come now y/n even your above, that."

"They have a name actually, they are finely suited for me, and I love them."

"How my world is shattered, your breaking my world y/n" he grinned sarcastically.

You crossed your arms. "I know where my heart lies thank you."

"Is that so? Very well, would be awfully dreadful if one were to—oh—ruin your evening." In thin air he summoned a crystal ball.

The ball showed your partner in another dimension, trapped in a prison.

"What, that's an illusion!."

"See for yourself."

You rushed to the bathroom to see if they were there. Low and behold, he wasn't.

"What? Why would you do that!"

"I did warn you y/n, you can't deny the circumstance you placed yourself effortlessly into."

"Give him back!" You pushed to grab the ball only for your world to swirl around you, he disappeared into a puff of glitter.

"I'll give you three hours y/n to find where your swaine lies in my labyrinth or become trapped here with him forever."

Labryinth requests: open