#jareth fanfiction

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: Jareth jumpscares the reader a bit, Hoggle is a bit crass, reader kind of throws themself at Jareth, a few double intendres but they are mentioned in the movie so idk

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! My annual Labyrinth story is here!

"Run the labyrinth he said. 13 hours he said." I muttered to myself as I trudged along through the Goblin City. So far, none of the goblins had come after us. Hoggle trailed behind me, rubbing his hands. I still held his precious jewels but I doubt he cared about them anymore. "What are you muttering about back there Hoggle?" I looked over my shoulder at him, fed up with the noise he was making. Not knowing if the rest of the goblins would jump out because of it had set me on edge.

"What are you going to do if you get to the castle?" He finally asked. I shrugged. "I mean you're leaving right?" I nodded as he sped up to walk alongside me. "But I thought you wanted to do Jareth." I stumbled and Hoggle looked at me, hands out to try to catch me.

"What?!" I exclaimed. Hoggle was wringing his hands again. "Who said anything about me wanting to do Jareth?"

"I just thought..." He trailed off. "The way the two of you interact with each other..." I sighed and gazed up at the castle.

"Hoggle, it wouldn't work. He belongs here in the Goblin City. I have to go back. I should never have said that to my friend." I shook my head, clearing it and banishing all thoughts of the Goblin King out of my head.

"He will probably offer you a way to stay..." Hoggle murmured. "If he did, would you take it?" I shrugged.

"As long as my friend was safe and I wouldn't get turned into a goblin, maybe." My mind was racing. If I could stay, would I? Would I want to be bound to the Goblin King forever? Did I really want to stay? Shaking my head again, I focused on the task at hand. We were at the steps of the castle. "Hoggle, whatever comes next, I have to do it myself right?" He nodded. "Here. Thank you for coming with me." I tossed his jewels back to him.

"You didn't have to do that." He said in surprise. Smiling sadly at him, I started to climb the stairs. I looked back only once to see Hoggle wave at me before turning around and disappearing into the city. Climbing the stairs, I pushed the doors open and entered the empty throne room. Looking around, I saw the clock. Sighing in relief, I looked around for the doorway I knew to be there. There were three doorways behind the throne. Looking from one to the other, I started to worry. I still had time if I took the wrong door but I would have to find my way back to this room if I wanted to preserve that time.

"Think (Y/N). Think." I circled around the throne and stared at the doors. "Which one did Sarah take. Which one leads to the David Bowie impersonator." I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the scene from the movie. "She comes in and it's..." I turned slightly and opened my eyes. The doorway matched what I remembered from the film. "There." Running through, I took in the new maze. Smiling to myself, I walked to the edge and looked out of the staircase world.

"(Y/N)!" My friend called out for me. I waved down to them and took a deep breath, preparing to jump down the center.

"Expecting a song?" The voice made me jump and I turned around, putting some distance between myself and the edge. Jareth was leaning against the wall, playing with a crystal. "You won't get one." I smiled softly at him and shook my head.

"Didn't think I would." I looked over my shoulder and took a step back. I looked back at Jareth as he pushed off the wall. "Besides, you wouldn't get into it too much. I know what to do." He smirked and walked right up to me. We were standing nose to nose when he put his hand on my shoulder.

"Then do it." He whispered before giving me a gentle push. I stepped off at the same time and fell. A new platform materialized under me and I landed carefully, my friend having disappeared again. Jareth entered from a new doorway. "I assume you know what's coming." I nodded and Jareth rolled his eyes. "Then formalities and such." He waved his hand and I tried to stifle my laugh. It brought a smile to his face. "(Y/N)," my breath hitched as he said my name. Maybe Hoggle was right. "beware. I have been generous, up until now and I can be cruel."

"Generous?" I tried to fight the smile that was growing. "What have you done that's generous?" Jareth smirked at me, clearly seeing how amusing I found all of this.

"Everything." There was something about his tone that made me question all of my life's choices until that point. "Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that your friend be taken. I took them. You cowered before me. I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you. I'm exhausted from living up to your expectations of me." He circled me. All I could do was watch him. Doubt was growing in me. Doubt that I could say the words. Doubt that going back was what I really wanted. Doubt that I could leave him behind. Doubt I could forget about him. "Isn't that generous?" His gaze softened as he came to a stop in front of me.

"I-I..." I looked around him, desperate not to look him in the eye. "Through dangers untold..." I fought to find something in me that wanted to go back. Something to focus on so I didn't have to make that choice while looking at him. "Dangers untold and hardships...." Jareth watched me, regarding me kindly and curiously. When it was clear I wasn't going to recite my part, he took control.

"Stop. Wait." He held up a crystal, taking a step closer to me. "Look (Y/N). Look at what I'm offering you." His voice had taken on a soft quality. When he didn't continue, I looked away from the crystal, meeting his eyes.

"My dreams." I whispered out. He shook his head but gave me a chance to continue. But I didn't take it.

"I ask for so little." Jareth took another step towards me. "Just let me rule you and you can have everything that you want." He had lowered the crystal, nearly letting it drop as his other hand reached out and gently took mine. His thumb ran over my knuckles, waiting for me to make a decision. I shook my head, the thoughts running rampant as I tried to find any reason to go. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave." Jareth whispered, gently pulling me closer to him. "The choice is yours. I've done all I must." Slowly reaching up, I cupped his cheek.

"My friend will return?" He nodded, gently leaning into my touch. "And I won't become a goblin?" He shook his head with an amused smile.

"Where would you get an idea like that?" He chuckled. "Your friend will return to your world. If you choose to stay, you will remain as you are. With me. If that is what you so choose." Jareth watched me carefully. Letting go of his hand, I reached out for the crystal. "You need to be sure." He warned. I nodded.

"I'm sure." I touched the crystal just as Jareth leaned forward and kissed me. The world around us shimmered as we were returned to the throne room. Jareth pulled away, smiling softly at me. I looked around the room, surprised by the subtle use of magic. A second throne had appeared next to the first.

"For you." He whispered as he watched me take my seat.

[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."

[anundyingfidelity]

MEMORIES LOST — Jareth x ofc/fem reader. Ch. 2.

Summary: A mysterious woman falls into the Underground, claiming she does not have memories and not knowing why she is there. Jareth, who's bored and taking slight pity on her, takes her under his wing to ease some of his own misery. Post Labyrinth (1986).

Warnings: nudity, masturbation, voyeurism, manipulation, corruption, smut in general.

Word counter: 866.

Note: female character is named Leah, but no physical characteristics (such as skin color, hair, eyes, etc.) are described on this story. Feel free to imagine how she looks like.

In this chapter: Just Jareth watching (spying) his visitor. Warnings of voyeurism.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

This fanfiction is also posted in Ao3 under the name undyingfidelity.

Chapter 1. | Chapter 2. | Chapter 3.

The next time Jareth was sure he would not forget about Leah came soon enough. He would not forget her so easily.

The woman was calm and submissive to him, taking in every order and indication the King was giving, either to her or his goblins. She was a fast learner, something Jareth truly appreciated a lot for sure.

Each day that passed in the Castle, was an exciting day of learning new things from the mind of the new mysterious woman doing her way around the place.

A smirk formed on his lips as he looked over Leah through the crystal in his hand. Jareth used to check on her from time to time using the small crystal, and lately it had become more of a daily habit before going to bed. Was it wrong? Maybe. She could do personal things he wasn't supposed to see, but since when Jareth did care about that? He wasn't very fond of moral and good behavior anyway.

Leah was graceful and phisically beautiful, and Jareth liked that. Her appearance and looks complemented the way she would talk to him, like a scared puppy who was barely rescued from a thunder storm, giving all her loyalty and fear only to him, the Goblin King. He really missed the feeling of being feared and respected at the same time.

She was doing excellent by serving and helping around. Jareth even found out she loved working in the Castle when he read his mind some days back. Anything he asked, she did for him without hesitation. He wondered if that could be useful in some other ways.

He was no fool. When he came around, the woman would certainly feel electricity running through her body. A type of energy that was known and uncertain at the same time - something that was trully exciting to her. Leah didn't know why or how, but the Goblin king slowly created this type of masculine and strong energy around her whenever he entered the room, and she grew up to admit to herself she actually liked it.

That night, Jareth observed the woman around her bedroom, taking her dresses and clean clothes to the wooden closet. Once she finished and organized the place, Leah started to undress in front of the full lenght mirror. She took off the straps of her dress slowly, loosing herself in the reflection of her own body, barely recognizing her own reflection.

Leah wondered what had happened before she fell to the Underground. How her life would have been without her being under the orders and the hands of the Goblin king. She didn't remember a single thing... yet. And Jareth found himself again looking after the woman, trying to get back any memory on her mind. But she did not remember any single thing, as in countless of times she tried before in front of the same mirror before going to bed, and repeat the same routine the next day.

She asked herself if Jareth was guilty of her being trapped in the Goblin city. And her thought made him smirk.

It wasn't part of his plans, but there she was. Questioning her own existence in front of the mirror, half naked, with a hand carresing the skin of her neck and her breasts delicately with one word in mind: Jareth.

Her hand found that sweet, prohibited and slightly wet place between her legs. She didn't remember feeling something like this before, but the sting and excitement felt like the first time Jareth laid his hand on her cheek.

The Goblin king became amazed with the girl, touching herself and discovering her own body on what it looked it was the first time - at least that she was aware of. Jareth read her thoughts, finding out he was the reason of her arousal. The simple thought of him creating that sweet sensation on Leah sent him over the edge. He was ridiculously proud and immediately inflated his ego - and his pants at the same time. But he was also bothered knowing he was only able to see her through a miserable crystal.

Sweat ran down her body as she, gently, worked two of her fingers between her legs. Leah tried to hold back her moans, but small whimpers escaped her lips even if she tried to stop them. Her fingers transitioned their slow and delicate motion to a rather fast one, and a weird, explosive sensation built down her stomach, until it felt like she was almost touching the sky.

Jareth noticed she was close. It filled him with excitement and anticipation. He wanted to keep her face coming down from her high on his mind forever. The way she tried to catch her breath and how she bit her lip while her body trembled was certainly a heavenly view. And again, he felt his dick extremely hard on his tight pants, and disappointed for not being there and give her what he knew she deserved.

"One day, little dove. One day," he mumbled to himself, still looking at Leah through the crystal, coming from her high. "Soon you will give in to me, in body, mind and soul."

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Time is short Jareth ⌛🔥🐲

[hotpinkboots]

(I know it's called a "crop" or whatever but I call it a "switch" so 🤭🤭🤭)

You were on your knees before the Goblin King.

He tilted his head, a cheeky smirk on his face. Jareth kneeled down on one knee to get on your level. "Oh, how darling you look," he taunted. He always taunted you- lovingly, of course, Jareth wouldn't ever be anything but adoring towards you, albeit his teasing. Giving a playful jab was one of his many ways of showing his fondness (infatuation) with you.

His elbow rested atop his knee, and he leaned in, his lips about an inch and a half from yours. Jareth brought his switch to your right cheek, slowly turning your head away as though getting a good look at you. The switch grazed down your cheek and pressed on the soft underside of your chin, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.

"What a stunning creature you are."

[somedaylazysomeday]

An Emissary of the (Goblin) King

Your quiet life as a teacher falls apart when a student wishes you away. Eventually, Jareth has to decide what to do with you.

Jareth x fem!reader (no use of 'y/n')

*This was written for a request in which the reader was supposed to be plus-sized. As such, there are a few scattered references to weight and body shape.

**Not related to my other Labyrinth works.

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6,800

Warnings: themes of being forgotten, slight loss of identity, bar flirting, slight harassment, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

Masterlist

---

When you had gotten wished away in your thirties, you were… perturbed. 

After all, you had been long past the days of fairy tales and make-believe. Magic was a lovely story element for children, a way to encourage their imaginations and allow them to dream of the impossible. But it wasn’t real. 

At least, that had been your theory between the ages of ten and thirty-something. Then, one of your second-grade students in the after-school tutoring session had gotten upset with you. You had told him that he couldn’t have a second helping of snacks unless he agreed to work on his math problems with you. He had been struggling with subtraction in particular, but was so energetic that it was difficult for him to focus. 

You hadn’t really been able to blame him - it was after school hours and the sun was beginning to set, throwing beams of blazing orange light from beneath a carpet of dark purple clouds. It was the perfect counterpoint to the playfully spooky Halloween decorations you had put up around the room. 

Anyway, when you had insisted that your student sit down and focus on his math sheet before you let him have another handful of gummy worms, he had pouted his tiny face. With an impressive amount of venom for a six-year-old, he said, “Well, I wish the goblins would take you away right now.”

You were still wearing an indulgent smile when you appeared in the straw-strewn throne room with an anticlimactic pop!

The Goblin King was lounging on his uncomfortable-looking throne, watching you with his own indulgent smile. “Wished away by a child, were you? Pity. He likely meant nothing by it, but… well, what’s said is said. I doubt he will opt to run the labyrinth, but let us see if he calls.”

Operating under the idea that you had fallen and given yourself a rather nasty concussion, you simply nodded and took a seat on the cleanest section of the stone floor you could find. It was quiet in the throne room, though you could hear the unmistakable sounds of distant chaos.

It had started small - brushing a piece of straw from the stone slab next to you. It fell into the pit and that made you feel a little better. Then you pushed the straw from the next stone, and the next until the section around you was clear. Then you started using your feet to push the straw down the stairs until it was gathered in a neat pile at the bottom. 

“Would you like a broom?” the man with the wild hair asked. You were cautious when you faced him, but he simply looked amused. 

“And a dustpan, if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “Unnecessary.”

You hadn’t bothered asking what that meant. Instead, you applied yourself to neatening the throne room, working from the edges and sweeping all the debris toward the pit in the center of the room. Even the brown dots - ones you hoped were mud but suspected were some kind of dried fecal matter - lifted easily enough under the stiff bristles of the broom. 

At last, the room was clean and you swiped your forearm across your perspiring face. You didn’t know how the pit was going to get clean, but you were going to be miffed if the answer was ‘you’. 

When you caught movement from the corner of your eye, you jumped. You hadn’t forgotten the room’s other occupant - how could you? - but he moved with such impossible silence that you couldn’t track him with hearing alone. 

The man came to stand beside you and you took the chance to study him subtly. He looked… strange.

You shook yourself, reflexively berating yourself for the unkind thought, but you hadn’t been wrong. His face was narrow, flaring out at the cheekbones. His eyes were mismatched, but not in a heterochromatic way. No, one of his eyes was bluish-green while the other was simply black, as if it were entirely pupil. 

His hair was long and straight, though cut at various lengths that left it tapering from his  head down. Like a shag haircut on steroids. You were a little jealous and had vaguely started wondering whether you would be able to pull off the style when he turned. You realized just how tall he was. 

His mismatched stare was heavy and intense, and you redirected your attention as soon as possible. You opted to look at the pit instead, to take in the pile of straw and droppings, but it was gone. 

“What happened to the straw?” you asked, bewildered by the empty pit in front of you.

He smirked, lips twisting with an amusement that didn’t reach his eyes. “I discarded it, of course.”

“No, you didn’t,” you contradicted. “I’ve been standing there the whole time.”

“I used magic,” he clarified.

“Magic isn’t real.” 

The man’s eyes widened, then narrowed at you. “Have you not yet realized that you’re in a different place than you were when you were wished away?” 

“You said that earlier,” you remembered. “‘Wished away’. What do you mean?”

“At last, the typical questions,” he sighed. “Admittedly, far later than they are usually asked. Allow me to explain.”

The explanation that followed had been interesting, if mildly ludicrous: the man was actually a fae named Jareth. He collected lost and wished away items, though the only ones of them people cared enough to chase down were living things. He guarded the Labyrinth, collected the living things that appeared in the Underground - mostly children and pets, as he had explained - and allowed the wishers to run the Labyrinth if they wanted their disappeared item back. 

It could have been a far shorter explanation if you hadn’t been far more convinced by your concussion theory. 

In the end, Jareth had gotten tired of listening to your counterarguments and had sent you to ask Hoggle the rest of your questions. Hoggle had answered your questions… eventually. With a lot of complaining and work between giving those answers. You didn’t mind - work was something to keep you from running in circles in your own thoughts, and you learned a lot about the Labyrinth and the Underground simply by following Hoggle around. 

Jareth didn’t call you back to the throne room for nearly a week. 

“It seems as though your wisher is not going to run for you,” he said, taking on an expression he may have thought looked pitying. “He is at home with his mother, playing and eating and sleeping quite well without another thought of you. Quite the heroic youth."

“He’s six!” you reminded, mildly outraged at Jareth’s censure. “Even if he had offered, I wouldn’t want him running your labyrinth. It’s a death trap.”

Jareth’s expression had flattened at your insult, his mismatched eyes glittering with irritation. “Whether he would have run or not is irrelevant in the end. The real question is: what is to be done with you?”

“I…” You disliked asking questions you already knew the answers to, but there was nothing to be gained by playing things cool. “Could I go back home?”

“No.”

The blunt answer, though exactly what you had expected, still made you wilt. 

Jareth, for all that he made you nervous, didn’t look cruel about it. In a voice that was kinder than you had hoped, he said, “Even if I would agree to send you home, it would be impossible. You have been here too long. You have eaten and drank from the Underground. A single bite, a single sip… those could be reasoned with. Enough to influence a dream, forge a connection. But anything more? You are of this place now, more one of us than one of them.”

You wanted to argue, but something in your chest agreed, some nameless tangle of a thing recognizing that everyone and everything you had known were ‘them’. And you were not. 

Not anymore.

You had expected to be eaten by the Firies or thrown into the Bog or at least turned into a goblin, but Jareth had given you a different job: you were to be his hands and eyes in the human world.

“After all, no one will wish their belongings to me if they are ignorant of my existence,” he had told you. “You will spread information. Books and legends, stories told by firelight and in dark rooms as their occupants drift to sleep.”

And that was your task, had been for an eternity before you thought to check what year it was at all. People didn’t recognize you when you went to the human world, not even if you happened upon someone you had once known. That was fortunately rare, and became more so as the years faded. You didn’t seem to age, not the way you had. Perhaps there was an extra strand of silver in your hair or an aching joint where there never had been before, but it was uncommon. 

Oh, you looked the same as you always had. You could verify that any time you were on the surface. Just then, for instance, you were standing outside of a bar and could see yourself in the shine of the old-fashioned, gilt-edged windows. You were generously curved as you had been before, your face the same shape. 

If you stared too long, though, you could catch something strange in your face, in the way you walked. Nothing overt, of course, but something that made you look… sharp. Wild. It drew some attention when someone watched you for too long. The mask of your humanity - what remained of it, anyway - fell away with exposure. From there, it could go either way. Sometimes, humans fled like prey before a predator. Other times, they hit on you. 

Had humanity always been like this? So willing to run into danger? You didn’t think so, but it was getting difficult to remember. 

Either way, you had barely sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine before someone slid onto the barstool beside you. To be fair, you couldn’t be too upset about it. You had been searching for company.

“I’ll pay for that,” the man announced to the bartender. The bartender didn’t look like she could have cared less, but she managed a nod. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m much more interested in learning yours,” you deflected. 

The stranger beamed at that and you smiled back. If you had your way, he wouldn’t learn your name. Even if he did, he would forget it before the day ended and you would never see him again. You would feel guilty about that, but you needed him for temporary relief from your body’s needs, nothing more. 

He could never be anything more. 

You pushed all of that from your mind and focused on your partner for the evening. He was handsome, the type of person you dated before you were wished away. It was getting harder to remember those days. 

The man’s personality was a little intense, but that tended to ease back a bit after someone realized that you weren’t going to disappear from them… yet.

Two drinks in, you had offered a smile that was almost genuine and were getting ready to suggest a change in location when your chest vibrated.

That wasn’t quite the right way to phrase it, but it was a difficult sensation to describe. It felt as though your ribcage and all of the organs it protected shook in tandem. The closest you had ever come to pinpointing the sensation was to compare it to the ringing of a gong, though thankfully, without the noise of the actual strike. 

The sensation was a warning that the Goblin King wanted you back in the Underground. It would happen more often the longer you ignored the summons, and would eventually grow painful. 

You rarely let it continue that long.

“I have to go,” you told your potential partner, standing abruptly from the stool and handing your credit card to the bartender. “Drinks are on me.”

At least, you assumed it was a credit card. It had no numbers or identification on it and you certainly didn’t have any money, but you had never had trouble paying for anything with it. Jareth had given it to you with minimal explanation. 

“Hang on-” the man protested, catching at your arm. You looked at his hand, then at him. Some of your strangeness must have shown through, since he slowly withdrew. He wasn’t wary enough, since he continued to speak. “What happened? I thought this was going somewhere.”

“It was,” you agreed simply, accepting your card from the bartender and scrawling a series of loops on the receipt she slid toward you. “Now it’s not.”

Fortunately for your almost-partner for the evening, he thought better of trying to physically stop you again and you left the bar unaccosted. 

Transportation to the Underground was rarely as dramatic as it had been that first time. Instead of a sudden, jarring switch in location, it happened as a slow fade. In this instance, you were walking and your surroundings seemed to blur slightly. When you could see clearly once more, you were in the Goblin King's throne room. 

Your forward motion hadn’t stopped, but it was far more risky to keep walking with the goblins thronging around your feet. You looked down at the group currently blocking your way and said, “Excuse me.”

The goblins - who had apparently been occupied in some kind of chicken-based game, shrieked and tumbled to either side. You continued toward the throne. 

For his part, Jareth was pretending he hadn’t noticed you yet. Instead, he was sprawled across his throne and studying the riding crop he had resting across his knees. Most observers would believe he was pensive, utterly lost in thought, but you knew better. Jareth loved to be watched, and if he could convince you that you had chosen to look without any prompting from him, so much the better. 

“You summoned me, sir?” you asked, reaching the base of the throne and offering a small incline of your head. 

Jareth glanced over, managing to look surprised, curious, and haughty. “Yes, I want a report on your progress.”

“Do you mind if I dismiss your subjects?” 

“As if you do not number among them?” Jareth tested, a corner of his mouth quirking upward knowingly. When you simply maintained eye contact, he gave a slight nod. “Very well, if it would please you.”

With effort, you managed not to shake your head at him. You were well able to focus even with the din of goblins around you, but Jareth took any respite he could get from them. 

“Can you all go downstairs for a while?” you asked, directing the question to the room at large. “I need to speak with the king.”

“You’s is speaking to him now,” one squeaky goblin pointed out, sounding sullen. 

Before the others could agree, you quickly cut in and diverted them. “You’re right, I am. But we need to talk about some very boring stuff and we need the room to be quiet. If you want to stay, you can’t make any noise. In fact, you could even help clean the throne room…”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else, the goblins rushed out of the room in a panicked tide. You smirked at the receding wave of excitable, temperamental creatures. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since you had taught six and seven year-olds, but the goblins weren’t so different from human children. 

When you turned around, Jareth was sitting on the throne like it was a chair rather than a fainting couch. One of his eyebrows was raised and he looked impressed despite himself. “Someday, you must help me gain such mastery over my subjects.”

“Impossible,” you told him flatly. “They’re too focused on impressing you.”

“That has always been my burden to bear,” the Goblin King drawled, preening slightly as you tried not to roll your eyes. 

Jareth was the king. If you were to be technical about it, he was your king. He had left you alive when he didn’t need to. Even more than that, the nature of the job he had given you meant you had certain powers. The Goblin King did not bestow those lightly. You felt like you owed him at least basic respect, if not anything more subservient.

Besides, Jareth had enough people - well, goblins - trying to respond to his every need. You liked to think that he enjoyed the bits of personality you were willing to share with him. 

Rather than voice any of that aloud, you gave a shallow nod. "But you summoned me for a purpose. What do you need?" 

With the amusement still dancing across his fine features, Jareth tilted his head at you. "The work I gave you has never taken so long. I wanted an update on your progress." 

"My…" For the first time since you had found yourself in this strange land, you were thrown off by Jareth. He had never given any deadlines for your work, never ordered you to be done by a specific time. In fact, the opposite had been true. On the rare occasions that you worried about how long something took, Jareth was the first to remind you that he - and, by extension, you - had all the time that would ever exist. 

You managed to scrape together a semblance of competence. "An update. Yes. I can- That is, the work you gave me is complete. I distributed the books, set up special showings of the film, and orchestrated the release of some photographs." 

"All of that has been done?" Jareth checked. When you nodded, he gave you a stern look. "Then why did you not return to me immediately?"

As if on cue, something low in your stomach gave a heaving, disgruntled throb. You had never been overly desire-driven when you were fully human, and you blamed that for your current awkwardness - sex had never been common enough for you to grow blunt about your need for it. But you still had that need, and your body’s complaints were almost enough to drown out the weight of Jareth’s stare. Almost.

“I was in the middle of a different task,” you replied, trying to make it sound as bland as possible. Jareth’s attention span was stronger than that of his subjects, but he still made a concerted effort to avoid boring subjects. “Nothing of importance.”

Jareth studied his hands. “No, I imagine there is not much of importance in a dirty tavern.”

You froze. Not that you had been moving very much before, but every muscle locked down in response to the pointed revelation that Jareth could and did know where you went when you were Aboveground. “I-”

“You?” Jareth repeated mockingly. “Yes, you. You allowed a human to ply you with alcohol, then to paw at you. Though I suspect, given the tone of your conversation, that is far more innocent than what you would have done if I had not summoned you back here.”

“But how-”

Your question cut off abruptly when Jareth made a noise of impatience, tapping his cheekbone twice, just below his human eye.

“You watch me?” you demanded, surprise turning swiftly to anger and embarrassment. “Why?”

Jareth treated the question as literal rather than rhetorical, musing for a moment before he answered. “At first, to see if you intended to flee. It would not have worked, but it is always amusing to see humans try. Then, to be certain that you were performing your tasks to my standards. And finally…” The smile on Jareth’s face was indolent, with more than a hint of mischief. “Simply because I can.”

Glaring at an omnipotent fae king was probably not the wisest thing you could do, but your fury made you bold. “And have you watched me during my personal time before?”

Jareth let his head loll toward you for the best view of his self-satisfaction. “Yes.”

With a barely stifled noise of outrage, you spun with every intention of storming out of the room. Unfortunately for you, the powers Jareth had allotted you were nothing compared to his own. Without a sound or a motion from him, Jareth ordered the heavy doors to swing closed and there was nothing you could do to force them open once more. 

“I do not see why you are so offended,” Jareth told you, conversational tone coming from nearer than his throne. “I am well aware that humans have needs.”

“Then why interrupt me…” Your hissed demand had caught in your throat when you turned to find Jareth much closer than anticipated. The Goblin King twisted his head slightly to one side, matching the smirk that twisted his lips. You cleared your throat. “Why interrupt me when you know I’m occupied? Like you said, I have needs. It doesn’t help anyone if I’m too busy to meet them.”

“You are missing the most obvious solution,” Jareth informed you, spreading his hands to either side. “I can help meet those needs.”

“You?” you repeated skeptically. 

Jareth’s arms dropped and he looked almost offended. “And why not me?”

It may have been a rhetorical question, but you gave it as much thought as he had to your earlier question about his reasoning. “Well, you don’t seem like you would be interested. You don’t usually do things unless you have something to gain.”

“Have I not struck you as altruistic?” he asked. You shook your head, opting for honesty above tact. “Good. You are right, I don’t perform favors out of something as naïve as kindness. I have much to gain from this offer.”

“Like what?” you asked. The suspicion in your voice was so thick as to be almost comical, but Jareth didn’t seem offended.

“Pleasure,” he answered simply. “Do you want to meet your needs now? Or will you wait until the next time you have a spare moment to be disappointed by some human in a bar?”

You thought about waiting, you really did. Jareth was cocky enough without giving him access to something as personal as your pleasure. But you were growing close to desperation. That could make you more likely to be careless in Aboveground, something you weren’t willing to risk.

“You’re right,” you said. “It is the most obvious solution.”

The only thing that saved you from the self-congratulatory smile that slid across Jareth’s face was the fact that you erased it with your lips a moment later.

The Goblin King’s teeth were sharp. It had been one of the first things you noticed when you met him so long ago, but you were still a little shocked to be confronted by that sharpness when you slipped your tongue between his lips. 

Jareth’s surprise rivaled your own, though for different reasons. For half a moment, he seemed taken aback by your ardor, but he recovered and took control of the kiss before you could get used to the taste of him. He was like the sweetest wine, and you were instantly addicted.

A hand latched around your jaw kept your head positioned just where Jareth wanted it, and he swept through you like a hurricane. It was all you could do to keep up with him, but you were the first one to succumb to wandering hands. 

His clothes were always so decadent, and you had been waiting a long time to see if they felt as lovely as they looked. You were delighted to say that they did - textures sliding and dancing beneath your fingertips - but you were more focused on what you felt under those clothes.

The heat of Jareth’s skin was immense even through his clothing, enough to pull an answering sensation of heat from you. Every item of clothing you removed from him ratcheted the temperature further up until you felt like there was fire under your skin. 

Halfway through removing Jareth’s ostentatious cape, you pulled away to deposit it safely on his throne. It wouldn’t do to have it trampled by goblins or, worse, land in chicken excrement. 

Jareth muttered complaints for every moment you were away from him, pulling you impatiently closer the moment you were in arm’s reach. “I don’t know why you did that. I intend for that throne to be our next destination.”

You cast an assessing glance toward the door. It looked heavily barred, and you hadn’t been able to budge it, but there was a distinct possibility… “Fine with me, as long as you’re sure we won’t be interrupted. I don’t want to toss any of your subjects from the window of your throne room.”

“The door is locked,” he assured you, ducking his head to press wet kisses down your neck before blowing gently across his handiwork. 

With a shiver at the abrupt shift in temperature, you nodded. “And no goblin has ever managed to circumvent a locked door before.”

Jareth paused, clearly intent on undoing your shirt, but gave a marvelously exasperated groan. “Fine.”

Your triumph was cut off by an abrupt shriek as Jareth pulled you into his arms so strongly that your feet left the floor. “Jareth! What are you doing?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, pet,” he replied, pouting. “I’m not wasting any more time.”

And then he was striding toward a section of the throne room that looked distinctly… soft around the edges, and you recognized it as a portal. All of that was secondary, of course, to the ever-present awareness of being held in Jareth’s arms. 

As someone with a proud set of curves, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d been lifted by a lover. That was a shame, since being carried was something of a weakness for you, especially when you weren’t worried about being dropped. And nothing in Jareth’s expression or posture warned that he was about to run out of strength. 

You were still basking in the sensation as Jareth stepped through the portal and into a room that was nearly as large as the throne room. The major differences were that there was no pit and that the place of the throne was occupied by the largest bed you had ever seen. 

A smile stretched across your face as Jareth set you down on that large bed, and he frowned at you. “What is amusing you?”

“This bed is enormous,” you explained. “Yet I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

“I’ve had a partner here on numerous occasions,” he told you haughtily. “Perhaps you have not seen them because you are so busy finding partners among the humans.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed readily enough. “Or perhaps it has been such a long time that your last partner and I missed each other.”

“That…” Jareth’s lips pursed, “...is possible.”

You didn’t necessarily remember closing your eyes while you laughed at that, but you must have. When you opened them once more, Jareth was looming over you. “Pleased as I am to provide amusement, there are other noises I would rather pull from you.”

Your breath caught at the rough admission. Jareth’s face descended before you could scrape up a response, and then you were too concerned with meeting the intoxicating rhythm of his mouth against yours. 

The next thing you knew, you were resting more securely on the bed with Jareth holding himself above you. Both of you were fully naked and you had no idea how you had gotten that way. Most likely, he had used his magic to remove your clothing, but it was possible that you had been too thoroughly distracted by his kisses to worry about something as minor as what his hands were doing. 

In any case, you were reveling in the way your hands could roam over him without encountering any barriers. Jareth’s body was pale, muscles dancing subtly under his skin. That paleness was marked with occasional scars - silvery marks that spoke of injuries from long ago. You couldn’t see much of him below the mid-torso since he was pressed so tightly to you, but you could feel the delicious length of him, hot and hard against your thigh. 

When Jareth finally pulled away, he only went far enough to make eye contact without either of you crossing your eyes. “I want to taste you. Is that acceptable to you?”

“You’re the king,” you reminded him with a sardonic smile. 

Jareth’s jaw flexed and his mismatched eyes narrowed. “Precisely. Which is why I expect an honest answer when I ask a question. Do you want this?”

“Yes.” The confirmation was a little breathless, but Jareth’s reply had been unexpected for someone who placed such an emphasis on retaining control. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” he told you with a nod. 

His patronizing tone might have set your teeth on edge, but Jareth accompanied it with a praising stroke down the length of your body. His fingertips trailed fire from your collarbone, over one breast, across the swell of your stomach, and down to the part of you that was aching for him. At the same time, he slid down until his face was even with your hips and you could hardly keep still with the anticipation filling you. 

With your knees already parted around him, Jareth had only to wedge his shoulders between your thighs to gain full access to your core. The sudden exposure to the air of the room sent a chill through the parts of you that were burning the hottest, but the coolness only heightened the sensations. 

Jareth didn’t give you any warning, any time to brace. Instead, he ducked his head suddenly, swiping the flat of his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the very top. He paused for a moment while you made a sound of startled pleasure, his lips quirking. 

“Delicious,” he told you. “I wonder if you’re even sweeter inside?”

Before you could offer any reply, Jareth apparently decided to see for himself. One of your legs was tossed over his shoulder while he pinned the other to the bed. That was the only thing that kept you from trying to strangle him with your thighs when he began to torment you in earnest. 

Those plush lips and wicked tongue explored every part of you, wringing pleasure from you like it was something precious he could save for later. 

An elegant finger pushed into your core, pressing into the heat and slickness of you without a bit of difficulty. Your muscles spasmed so dramatically that it forced you to sit up - or, more accurate, to try. Jareth’s arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed, leaving you to writhe, squeeze your legs around him, and cry out your pleasure loud enough for the entire castle to hear. The hand pressing you into the softness of the mattress strummed fingers across your hip.

With an expression that felt wild with pleasure, you stared down between your own thighs and clenched even harder around that finger. Your eyes had met Jareth’s mismatched gaze where it peeked over the roundness of your tummy. Mischief glimmered on what you could see of his face, and there was a clear sense of enjoyment in his bearing. 

That eye contact sent an electric thrill through you, and you were gone. Your head kicked back against the pillow and you seemed to leave your body for an eternity, shattering into infinite pieces under the onslaught of pleasure Jareth was using to assault you.You may have made a noise - probably had, if you were judging from your experience so far - but you couldn’t hear it over the way your ears rang with the sound of your mind shattering. 

When you finally settled back into your body again, it felt too small to possibly contain everything you had felt. Jareth was applying long, luxurious licks to your core, sweeping over the entirety of your slit and it was all you could do to push him away. 

Jareth gave you a moment to collect your breath, but soon enough, he was peering down at you with no small amount of pride on his strange face. “Will you recover?”

You were a bit embarrassed by the strength of your reaction to him, but you managed a smile and a nod. “Guess I needed that more than I thought. It’s been a while.”

The fae tilted his head to the side, a hint of a smile showing the white points of his teeth. “My dear, do you honestly believe I have lived so long without learning to draw pleasure from someone? Your state of arousal has little to do with it.”

The post-orgasmic glow kept you from mustering the scoff that deserved. After delivering a sad little huff, you told him, “Humble as ever, Goblin King.”

“I would so hate to leave you with an inaccurate idea of my skill,” Jareth drawled. “I would be happy to provide further proof at your earliest convenience.”

Your breath caught in your throat, leading to an embarrassing cough. On the positive side, that cough gave you a moment to internally puzzle through that. Was Jareth volunteering to do this again sometime? He was technically your boss and your king, and thus a romantic connection you had never experienced before, but you couldn’t honestly say you wouldn’t be with him again. Even ignoring the pleasure - difficult as that was - you… really wouldn’t mind repeating this experience. 

“Uh, okay,” you said elegantly. 

Jareth simply smiled at you, but something about his intent gaze warned that he understood your thoughts as clearly as he did his own. Still, all he said aloud was, “Did that satisfy you, pet? Or would you perhaps like to continue?” 

Before you could fight it, your gaze dropped to the apex of his thighs. He was visibly hard and ready for you, his body betraying an eagerness that was totally hidden in his expression. Despite his state of arousal, Jareth was still giving you the option to be done with him. As he was known for his lack of tact, you recognized and appreciated the effort Jareth was putting into making you comfortable. 

And what better way was there to show your appreciation than to offer some relief?

“I think I might need a little more,” you told him, playing coy. You even added a demure drop of your gaze, though you could see him through your lashes. 

That was how you watched when Jareth’s expression sharpened, though his voice stayed careless. “I don’t believe in offering partial respite. I shall see this task through until it is complete.”

The smile that fought to spread across your face was only stifled by the way Jareth caught at your ankle and pulled you further down the bed. He surged upward at the same time until you were firmly beneath him. The fae dotted your face, jaw, and neck with kisses as he settled heavily on top of you. Your legs parted automatically to wrap around his waist and draw him closer, but you were taken aback when the length of him pressed against your still-sensitive core.

You were still surfing the wave of heightened sensation when you felt the tip of Jareth’s length notch into your opening. 

Jareth’s fingers trailed from your forehead down to your jaw, turning your head until he could peer into your face. “Are you ready for me, pet?”

“Yes,” you agreed eagerly. “Please…”

“Don’t beg, sweet thing,” he instructed. “You never need to beg for me.”

And then he was driving into you - robbing you of any ability to process that.

Jareth had seemed to have an average build below the waist, as you had expected from his elegant physique and slender limbs. Still, he felt earth-shattering as he eased inside of you, enough to take your breath away even considering how wet you were with the remains of your earlier orgasm. 

You were utterly still as he pressed in, locked in place by the amount of concentration you had fixed on the feeling of him. But the first time he withdrew from the depths of you, every part of you writhed beneath him. Your hands grasped, your toes curled, your head tilted in an attempt to ease the groan that fought for release from your throat. 

Jareth swallowed that groan, dipping down easily to sweep through your mouth just as thoroughly as he had the first time. He plundered you greedily, feeding on the sounds you made for him as his hips danced closer and away, closer and away. 

Infuriatingly, he kept you - and himself - poised on the edge of orgasm for an eternity, slowing whenever either of you came too close to the precipice. Jareth chased pleasure eagerly, though, tormenting you with fingers and lips to push you higher without allowing you the relief of release.

“Jareth, please,” you begged as his hips slowed once more.

He arched a brow at you. “Yes, pet? What do you need?”

“I-” You gave a hoarse gasp as a deliberate twist of his hips left the length of him brushing against your g-spot. It was followed by a noise of frustration when his pace slowed to a fraction of what it had been. “Please, I need to come.”

His smile was so sudden that it looked almost fierce. “My dear, why did you not tell me earlier?”

A retort sprang to your lips, but it died there as he shifted infinitesimally inside of you. That minor change had devastating effects on the angle of his thrusts inside of you, which picked up speed until it was all you could do not to drown in him. 

Your body tightened around his as it had done so many times before, but he didn’t slow this time. Instead, his lips caught yours as his thumb strummed your clit.

That kiss was only broken when your orgasm hit you like a train, kicking your head back and dropping your mouth open so you could cry out from the incredible intensity of the pleasure that filled you. Your limbs curled around Jareth, constricting to keep him pressed against you as tightly as possible.

On his side of things, Jareth didn’t seem inclined to fight his imprisonment. His hips pistoned between your trembling thighs, burying himself in you over and over until - finally - his rhythm faltered. 

Those sharp teeth were bared in a snarl as he pushed himself as deeply as he could get. The warmth of his release flooded you. 

When the frantic pulses of his hips slowed, Jareth let himself drop on top of you. His weight was on you for a fraction of a second before he twisted to pull you on top of him instead. Since he was still buried in your core, the motion left you in the grip of an aftershock, but you recovered enough to move off of him. 

Jareth’s eyes were closed, but his hands lashed out to keep you from moving as soon as you started to. “I don’t know where you think you’re going, pet, but you are mistaken.”

“I’m just rolling off of you, Jareth,” you told him, exasperated. “If I crush you, it’ll be regicide and I can’t imagine a goblin trial is pleasant.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, eyes still closed. “But mostly because they show an inability to focus on a single issue for more than seconds at a time. And as for being crushed by you… Not only is it an impossibility, but it sounds rather pleasant.”

“Jareth…” you sighed. 

That made him open his mismatched eyes and you were startled to see the changes in them. The blue-green of his human eye was expanding both toward the pupil and over the white sclera. The pupil-less darkness of his fae eye was doing the same, slowly working out until the entire orb of his eye was dark. 

When Jareth finally spoke, it was with a smile that showed his sharp teeth. “Did you know there is a difference in the way you say my name now?”

You paused, scanning over his face for a moment before you asked, “And what does that mean?”

Jareth didn’t immediately answer you, but his smile didn’t fade during the stretch of quiet. At long last, he said, “It means that things have changed between us. It means that I encourage you to seek to satisfy your needs in my bed. And it means that I chose the perfect person to serve as my emissary in the human world.”

That was significantly less worrisome than what you thought he would say. In fact, it was even… sweet. “I certainly never thought I would end up here, but I can’t say that I regret it.”

“Faint praise,” Jareth said dryly. “But praise nonetheless. We shall see whether we can further improve your outlook on your place in my kingdom.”

“I look forward to that,” you admitted, relaxing slightly into him. 

Jareth’s arms tightened around you, drawing you even closer. “As do I.”

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! I'm not officially accepting requests, but someone sent this one in and it caught my interest enough to help me break through some writer's block.

Happy Halloween!

I don't offer a taglist for spicy fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist.

[catgrandpa]

I’m rewatching Labyrinth and I already know I’m going to make this about Tim Drake.

Bruce gets Damian as a baby, and makes Tim watch him while he goes out on the more dangerous missions.

Tim throws a fit and says the whole ‘Ugh, I wish someone would just take you far away from me!’ bit and then League assassins kidnap Damian.

Tim tracks down Ra’s and threatens him and Ra’s tells him, “Ah, but Detective… I’m doing you a favor. I heard you, you know. Just think how much better life will be when you don’t have to worry about taking care of my grandson.”

“…I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I really need my brother back.”

Ra’s stares at him for a few moments. “How disappointing. I suppose you’ll just have to find him, then.”

And that’s the last thing Tim remembers before waking up in the labyrinth. He walks forward for a few moments before he sees a figure training with a sword in a courtyard.

The figure turns and Tim spots bright green eyes and a streak of white in a head of black.

“Oh, Replacement. It’s you.”

[thetravelingtyper]

WHAT'S THIS A MASTER LIST? about dang time

Updated 10-1 for Letters From Nowhere

MASTER LIST

enjoy - Ash

Simon Ghost Riley

Spitfire Series (GN tall American reader x SGR)

Spitfire: 1 Spitfire, 2 Reaper, 3 Feuerkopf, 4 Heated Shadow, 5 A supreme love, Nightmare Teaser

Spitfire Spinoff of Author Reader Comfort Character (RL! GN Reader x SGR)

Comfort Character Pt 1, Part 2, part 3

On The Same Page! (American, Author Reader x SGR)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Wolf! Simon

One and The Same

Part 1

One Shots!

a moment

Misc Posts!

Library AU idea!

Compromising Position ft Soap!

Hypnogogic (Angst)

Saving Johnny! (Slight Angst) Look for parts 1 and 2!

Soft! Simon Headcannons

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Letters from Nowhere (CBF! Soap x reader x Simon)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2

Poly 141!

Our Shattered Heart (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.25, Part 2.50, Part 2.75, Part 3.00, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Headcanons! (just extra content for the universe!)

Part 1,

Labyrinth (1986)

Jareth the Goblin King

Out From Twisting Pages

After finding a beautifully bound book titled “Journey into the Labyrinth” in your university library and being told to keep it, you take the uncatalogued book home over the seasonal break. However when school is suddenly shifted online, you start finding marbles everywhere you go, mysterious hijinks occur, and a large white owl suddenly decides to nest in the tree out your little house’s window, you begin to wonder if something may be up with the mysterious book…

[ziggystardust8675]

Pink Skies and Silk

Pairing: Jareth x reader

AN: It has been a HOT minute since I’ve actually posted any writing so that’s my bad. Hope some smut makes up for it!

Summary: You’ve been missing your boyfriend and he feels it’s his duty to make up for lost time.

Warnings: AFAB reader (no pronouns actually used), penetrative sex, praise kink, unprotected sex (stay safe y'all), creampie, little bit of possessiveness

The labyrinth was quiet today, it was a stark difference from the usual buzzing of life throughout it. The flowers were finally in bloom after a long and frigid winter. You could never truly get over the beauty of the labyrinth, it was otherworldly. The only thing more beautiful than the labyrinth was your boyfriend, Jareth.

He had been away at meetings all day and the longing for him was obvious. It was likely you wouldn't see him till the sun started setting, so you decided to lounge around the gardens with a good book till then.

Finally when the sky started being painted colors of pinks and oranges did you start making your way back. Upon entering the castle it was clear there wasn't a soul in sight. Not a goblin nor Jareth.

Walking up the cobblestone steps you entered you and Jareth's shared room. It too was empty.

You stripped yourself of the clothes you had worn all day and made your way towards the bathroom. Starting the bath you added a variety of sweet smelling oils and perfumes. As soon as you stepped into the warm water, your body immediately started to release the tension you didn't know you were holding.

As soon as the water started getting cold you reluctantly decided it was about time to get out. You wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel you had set out. Once you were dry you dressed yourself in a low cut silk nightgown. Usually you would save the garment for a night where Jareth would give you his undivided attention and love, however since Jareth was nowhere to be found you decided to wear it just to feel confident in yourself.

Leaving the steam filled room, you found the man who had just been occupying your thoughts lazing on your shared bed in nothing but his trousers. God, he was certainly an enticing sight sitting there reading his leather bound book. Now you were immensely thankful for what you had decided to wear tonight.

Jareth's eyes shot up from his book to meet yours like a predator to prey. The air got caught in your throat and suddenly you felt extremely warm.

Taking a step towards the bed, Jareth sat up a little more, marking the page in his book to soon be forgotten. You decided to let him come to you.

Seeing that you weren't moving anytime soon, Jareth slipped out of bed and sauntered towards you, like predator to prey. The sight of you alone was enough to make him hot, and yet here you were in your short nightgown looking heavenly, he needed you. Your breath started to pick up.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my love." His voice was low and his hands planted firmly on your hips. Your breath was coming in short puffs as you murmured, "Mm, just missed you is all."

Jareth turned his head as he nipped at your neck, causing you to grip his shoulders. "Well, I'm here now. I believe I should make up for lost time, yes?" He whispered against your ear, causing you to involuntary shiver. All that you could muster was a breathless "Yeah" in his ear.

Finally, Jareth brought his head up to kiss you firmly. The kiss was long and left you feeling light, causing you to push your chest more firmly into his. Just as quick, Jareth pushed into you as well. The hands on your waist started to bunch the silk of your nightgown up higher. You could feel how hard he had gotten through his pants where he was pressing into the soft plush of your stomach.

The temperature in the room seemed to increase tenfold judging by the sweat starting to form on your brow. You pushed impossibly closer to him causing him to let out a low groan. He started to sneak one of his hands down to your thighs, using the other to bunch up your nightgown around your hips. You shifted your hips, starting to get impatient with the aching in your cunt. Jareth squeezed your hip a little to keep you in place,

“Patience, love.” He punctuated his sentence with a sensual kiss to your lips that lasted all too short. Finding that words had started to fail you, you tilted your head up and bit at Jareth’s neck just the way he liked.

Quickly, Jareth turned you both to the side so he could pick you up and place you on the soft cream colored sheets. He slotted his thin waist between your thighs and you arched your back slightly, “Jareth… please…” you whined, the sound was incredibly endearing to his ears. He threads his fingers through your hair, making you tip your head back so he could continue to nip at your neck, groaning as he did so.

He brought his hands down, running along the length of your body before softly rubbing the inside of one of your thighs. You moaned his name in his ear making him grunt and push his lips against you with hot passion. He runs his thumb along your clothed core making you shudder and grip his shoulders before he pulls his head back to look you in the eye and ask, “Is this okay, Love?”

You adored how even after all this time, no matter how many times you both were intimate, he would always still ask for your consent. You immediately nodded your head frantically of course, eager for all he had to give you. Without a second thought, he pulled the edge of your underwear aside to tentatively push his middle finger into your heat. At the sound of your pleasured gasp, he began to thrust his finger carefully but with more confidence that he was making you feel good. Soon he started to add a second finger, curling them and preparing you for him.

After a few moments of soft moans and the wet noise of his fingers entering your cunt, you started getting impatient, his fingers not enough. “Jareth… please… I need you… All of you.”

A devilish smile stretched across his face at your begging as he pulled his fingers from your drenched cunt to suck them clean. Your face flushed at his erotic actions, you reached to pull him closer to kiss him heatedly. He leaned back on his heels to start undoing the buckle of his pants. Once that was undone he got up to remove his pants and boxers altogether. He stood before where you lay completely bare on the bed, like some sort of divine being that came to give you the greatest of pleasures and love.

Without procrastination he got back on the bed, your legs resting on his thighs as they pushed your legs further apart. He strokes himself slowly twice, groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt. He had to resist the urge to plunge his cock into you and fuck you into the mattress, rather he wanted to take his time with you.

“You’re so pretty, all spread out like this.” His voice is tight as he guides the tip of his cock through your slick, bringing the tip to rub at your clit making you gasp out. “Jareth, please, I need you inside me.” You whimpered in pleasure when he finally started to push the tip of himself inside of you. His pace was agonizingly slow as he finally bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. Once you give the go ahead, he starts shallowly thrusting, drawing low moans out of you.

Jareth moves his hands to grip at your hips, guiding your hips to meet his thrusts. “Ah, you take me so well Y/N… So good for me.” His chest is covered in a sheen of sweat and you can see the muscles in his stomach and arms flexing as he makes love to you. You cry out in pleasure when he grips the underside of one of your thighs to throw it over his shoulder, pounding deeper into you with this new angle. He brings the hand that isn’t holding your leg down to rub tight circles on your clit causing your back to arch and you cry out his name.

At the sound of his name leaving your lips in such a way he picks up the pace of his thrusts, low grunts and pants leaving his throat. Your thighs begin to tremble as an orgasm slowly starts to root in your lower belly. “Jareth, just like that… I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me… You’re so good, finish for me sweetheart.” His thrusts started to turn erratic as he worked to bring you to your release. Once that coil in your belly snapped, his thrusts lost all sense of rhythm as he chased his own release. He bottomed out as he released his load into you, painting your insides with his cum. You both stayed like that for a few moments as you rode out your highs, trying to catch your breath.

When he finally pulled out of you, you could feel his hot load leak out of your spent pussy. Jareth leaned back to watch it, completely entranced with the sight before him. He wanted no other to see you this way, he decided now that he was going to marry you. You would rule his kingdom by his side and he would have it no other way.

Buy me a coffee?

Masterlist

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Fanfiction Moodboards // “A Forfeit of Dreams” by KL_Morgan

Dreams must be achieved. They must be worked for, earned through sweat and tears. It’s what makes them so precious. They cannot be simply bestowed.

(huge thanks to @diaryofanobsessivefangirl, without whom I would never have learned of this earth-shattering fic)

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

AN: happy Valentine’s Day! Hopefully it was better than mine! Without further ado, the yearly jareth fic.

Jareth was growing frustrated, trying to pull my shirt off while still kissing me. I giggled at his attempts, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“blasted thing.” He muttered as he finally got it off. “Much better now don’t you think?” I reached up and tugged on his hair, forcing him back into the kiss.

“shut up.” I breathed out as a whirl of magic took us from the corridor to our room. Jareth quickly pulled off the rest of our clothes and helped me settle in the middle of the bed. “Jareth…please…” I whimpered.

“please what my darling?” He chuckled, nose ghosting over my neck. “You’re going to have to use your words.”

“need you. Please.” I breathed out, fingers getting lost his hair as he finally closed the gap and kissed my neck. I tugged on his hair as I felt him gently nip up towards my jawline. “Need you now jareth.”

“As you wish.” He said with a dark chuckle. Kissing me deeply, jareth entered me in a single thrust. My moan was stopped by his tongue exploring my mouth. I released his hair and wrapped my arms around his neck, slowly making out with him as he waited for me to adjust to his size. “Ready?” Jareth whispered. I nodded, burying my face in his neck. His hair tickled my face as he slowly started to thrust into me.

“Oh fuck jareth.” I whimpered. “My king.” Jareth growled as his hands explored my hips. “My love.”

“fuck.” Jareth groaned. I dug my nails into his back as he sped up. With another kiss, we both fell over the edge. Jareth leisurely pumped into me as we came down, drawing out the wave of pleasure. Once it had passed, he gently pulled out and laid down next to me. We were quiet for a moment, trying to collect our thoughts.

“wow.” I breathed out with a giggle. Jareth turned to look at me, reaching out to brush a stray hair out of my face. “Best present ever.” Jareth smiled at me before pulling me into his chest.

“I’m glad you think so.” He said before kissing me softly.

[janaem]

Let Me Rule You

Jareth x f.reader

This is chapter 1 (Entranced) | Chapter 2 (Wish)

Synopsis: She never imagined that she would once again be drawn into the enchanting world of fictional characters, a place she had not ventured into for many years. However, on a warm summer Saturday night, everything changed as she found herself captivated by the enigmatic goblin king, Jareth, while watching the mesmerizing film "Labyrinth." Word count: 5.4k (20 pages)

Warnings for this chapter: swearing and arguments

Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name

For visual purposes, here is the house you are living in.

Author note: It's sure been a while since I wrote something as long as this. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter as much as I did! I don't intend for this to be a slow burn, but I'm sure not rushing to the climax either. Things will definitely start to progress in the chapters to come at a reasonable pace since I'm aiming for this to be only a few chapters. I will also be publishing this on ao3 and wattpad:)

The dusk was calm, and the only movements were the swaying of the trees in the warm midsummer breeze. The dark green leaves of the trees fell sporadically on the fresh pavement street of Evansville. It is a typical upper-middle-class suburb located on the outskirts of the great city, beyond its beautiful lake. During the summer, Evansville is usually bustling with life. Kids can be seen racing on their scooters while their parents watch from the front lawn of their craftsman and single-family-style homes. Teenagers speed down Sherhigh Avenue by the Lakefront with their windows rolled down, blasting music and singing the lyrics. The beaches are always full from morning till nearly midnight.

Nestled close to the tranquil lakefront was Nordstin Street, which exuded an air of a close community feel. From afternoon till night, the neighborhood was painted with playful children and their parents' laughter on their lawns, the jingle of ice cream trucks, and frequent splashes from small backyard pools.

But once dusk faded away, it was different. The winds picked up abruptly around four thirty and leaves started dancing in a choreographed frenzy while flower petals broke free from their delicate confines. The windows of these sturdy homes rattled, adding a discordant note to the chaos. The tides of the lake were more than violent, threatening to engulf anything in their path. The crashing waves against the cluster of boulders are reminiscent of clashing symbols. 

In the heart of Nordstin, a grand single-family home exudes warmth and elegance. The gray fiber cement exterior, adorned with white accents, perfectly complements the intricately decorated gray brick roof. The beautiful porch is a work of art, supported by sturdy white stone pillars, making it both practical and stunning.

In the vast living room downstairs, an eighteen-year-old, Y/n,  lounged on the cream sectional sofa, surrounded by plush beige pillows of varying textures. With one pillow snug against her torso, she tuned into the news forecast, her gaze fixed on the screen as she observed the latest updates.

The male news reporter's voice filled the room, his words a solemn warning. "The winds are blowing at 26 miles per hour," he announced, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. "It's best to stay home if you don't need to be outside, especially away from water." 

Suddenly, a harsh voice from the kitchen shatters the tranquility, disrupting Y/n's peace of mind.

Y/n’s mother, m/n, walked urgently from the kitchen and halted at the entrance of the living room, wearing an unpleasant expression. She holds a meticulously cleaned empty Tupperware container in her left hand. 

“Y/n,  did you eat the last of the lasagna?” She asked, shaking the container so it was brought to Y/n’s attention. 

Y/n looked over at her displeased mother and replied dryly, "Yeah."

Her mother gives her a repulsed look, “Why? What makes you think it’s okay to eat up everything in this house and not leave anything left for anyone?” 

Y/n gave her a look of offense, sitting up from her leisure posture, her voice remained level, “Those were the only leftovers I ate. And you told me that I could  help myself to whatever I wanted today.”  

“That doesn’t mean you eat a whole thing of lasagna, Y/n. You can’t always think about yourself!” 

“It wasn’t even half of a container mom, relax.” 

“Don’t tell me to relax. I know what was in there.”

“Can you please stop yelling?” 

“I’m not yelling! This is how I talk.”

Already feeling fatigued from the ongoing conversation, Y/n released a small, exhausted sigh, grabbed the remote, and switched from the news channel in search of something else to ease her mind.

However, the fuming woman continued, “You could’ve called me asking if you could save me some because that is a lot for one person.”

“It wasn’t.” Y/n had completely given up.

“Okay, Y/n,” m/n scoffed, walking back into the kitchen, “This is ridiculous, you think about nobody else but yourself.  Your dad and I are already paying for your college, and the least you can do is not act selfish all the time!”

Y/n turned up the volume of the television, finally finding a show that piqued her interest. Unfortunately, she could still hear the immature mutters of her mother’s complaints.

“It’s all about Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…never thinking about anyone else…that’s sad…this is ridiculous!...eat something healthy…never seen anything like it…eighteen years old…”

“So fucking extra,” Y/n huffed, turning down the volume of the television. She throws the pillow from where it landed with the other pile of pillows on the couch and walks up to her room, considering watching a movie there instead. Maybe she’ll Facetime her friend to vent about how unbearable her mom was acting again. 

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n and her mother to engage in disputes, which seemed to arise almost daily, creating an atmosphere of constant tension. By now, Y/n was used to it, maintaining a more composed demeanor. However, there are times when she'll mirror or even exceed her mother's outbursts. Their relationship wasn't entirely negative, but it was far from fulfilling. As for her father, Y/n's connection with him was characterized by neutrality with a more manageable dynamic. He was currently on a trip with her uncle and a few friends at Turks & Caicos and won’t be back for another five days.

Y/n walked into her room, paying no attention to the insistent buzzing of her phone on her eider white desk. She sank into her plush queen-sized bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows and stuffed animals, and disappeared under the soft covers, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

She didn't want to get too hot under the covers in her oversized hoodie, so she shifted to a more upright position, reached under a nearby pillow, retrieved the remote, and switched on the television. The clock on the top right-hand corner of the starting page displayed 9:45 pm. She then clicked on one of the streaming apps and started browsing through the movies, uncertain of her current mood.

Y/n, with a deep appreciation for classic films, gravitated towards the 80s-90s subcategory. The screen was filled with a vibrant array of movie covers competing for her attention. As she scrolled through the seemingly endless list of movies, Y/n's eyes eagerly scanned the colorful and nostalgic offerings.

She scrolled through rows and rows of movies of all kinds, eventually getting bored and heading over to the sidebar for a better selection. There, subcategories of the 80s and 90s movies appeared: Action, Romance, Documentary, thriller…

Fantasy.

It has been a while since Y/n watched any fantasy-related films, especially older ones with effects that she found to be somewhat uncoordinated and eerie. However, curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on it, and a series of other subcategories dropped down: Animation, Fairy Tale, Steampunk, Vampires...

Cult films.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the name, “Cult?” she whispered as if she was sounding it out for the first time.

As she clicked on the remote, a rush of warmth and excitement filled her chest. Her eyes eagerly scanned the screen, searching for a familiar movie. Despite having watched The Neverending Story countless times, she scrolled past it along with other movies like The Dark Crystal, Short Circuit, Big Trouble in Little China, and The Goonies. 

Yet, an inexplicable urge drove her to keep searching. After a few more minutes, she suddenly paused, as if an unseen force prevented her thumb from clicking the arrow button, and her gaze settled on a movie she had never come across before.

Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

Y/n felt an overwhelming and unexplainable sensation coursing through her body as she gazed at the movie cover and its title. It seemed to evoke a powerful wave of nostalgia, captivating her as she fixed her eyes on the glowing screen.

She clicked on the movie, reading its summary.

“Sixteen-year-old Sarah is given thirteen hours to solve a labyrinth and rescue her baby brother Toby when her wish for him to be taken away is granted by the Goblin King Jareth.”

“Poor girl,” Y/n commented as she pressed play, where the credits roll while a white barn owl flies around. Her dog, D/n, shoved the door open with their nose and climbed into bed with her, lying at her legs.

Y/n was captivated by the film's cinematic elements and grainy aesthetic. In particular, she found the character Sarah Williams, to be incredibly gorgeous. Despite her beauty and gentle appearance, Y/n observed that Sarah's behavior didn't align, from her furious stomping into the house to her tendency to catastrophize minor inconveniences. 

Y/n grimaced at the first appearance of the goblins, all jumbled up as they awoke from their slumber. Their raspy and grating voices matched their grotesque appearances.  When they emerged in the bedroom after Sarah's brother went missing, they appeared in various parts of the room--- under the bedsheets, inside closets, behind the door. Sarah looked around frantically, unable to catch a break. Then, suddenly, the same white barn owl from the movie's beginning barges into the room through the balcony doors and lunges at Sarah. Startled, Sarah shields her eyes, and then a human shadow emerges at Sarah's feet.

The once barn owl had been mystically transformed into a human being. Y/n took in his lithe stature, which stood in a way that excluded flamboyance and regal confidence. His long, dark, and dramatic coat, adorned with intricate designs and embellishments, billowed in the wind as he made his captivating presence known on screen.

"You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King." 

The Goblin King tilts his head, offering Sarah a proud smirk. Y/n couldn't help but notice his untamed, tousled blond locks that framed his face, enhancing his unconventional and otherworldly allure.

"Sarah…go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."

His voice flowed like honey, smooth and melodious. Y/n had heard that voice before, possessed by others, yet the Goblin King made it uniquely captivating with its rich, velvety timbre.

"I've brought you a gift."

"It's a crystal, nothing more."

The Goblin King outstretched his gloved hand, and a translucent ball appeared out of thin air. Y/n's eyebrows raised in awe as he effortlessly juggled it about his hands in a way she'd never seen before. It rolled from one hand to another, from his fingertips to the palm of his hand.

"But if you turn it this way and look into it, it'll show you your dreams."

As the film played, Y/n was entirely captivated by the intricate and fantastical journey unfolding before her. She couldn't help but admire Sarah's courageous interactions with the strange and repulsive creatures, except the adorable worm at the beginning. Fairies, goblins, and monsters filled the screen, leaving Y/n in awe of the film's grungy artistry.

She started taking a liking to Hoggle, although he is a coward, he truly cared for Sarah and her wellbeing, which is the type of friend that anyone could need in such desperate times.  However, above all the characters Y/n found remarkable, the enigmatic Goblin King, Jareth, captured her attention every time he appeared.

The ballroom scene, in particular, mesmerized Y/n, watching as Jareth's intense yet affectionate gaze lingered on Sarah in a way that set Y/n's nerves ablaze, leaving her breathless. Amidst the dancing figures and smooth song, Y/n couldn't help but imagine herself in Sarah's place, enveloped in the lingering sensation of Jareth's possessive regard.  

As she watched, a soft sigh escaped her parted lips, tinged with wistfulness. She pondered what it would be like to be looked upon with such desire in a crowded room, to be longed by someone you secretly desired, as you sought them out in the hopes of meeting their eyes again. She briefly fantasized about being in Sarah's place, feeling the electricity of Jareth's presence, drawing her closer every second.

Y/n's growing desires and anticipation danced amongst the sea of masked faces and whispered secrets. What would it feel like to be carefully handled the way Jareth did Sarah at that moment as she nearly lost herself in his eyes? She wondered this throughout the rest of the film, as the last scene with Jareth played on screen.

“Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

A sickening sweet feeling aroused in the very heart of Y/n’s chest, causing her breath to abruptly become shallow as if it were her first time trying to breathe. Eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, she took in the lithe being presented on screen in front of her. Everything in her room surrounding her began to fall and fade away—all she could see was him. 

“Yes,” she subconsciously whispered, “say yes.”

“You have no power over me.” Sarah’s voice rang triumphantly, as the goblin king gave in, taking the form in his owl self once again.

As the film came to a close and the end credits started rolling, Y/n sank further into her pillows and covers. 

“I feel like there should’ve been more to the film,” she said to herself, “something’s missing. I’m not satisfied.”

D/n stirred in their sleep, not paying mind to a work y/n just said. The girl sighed, seizing the remote once more to watch something different.

That was until the door flew open and her moments of peace were shattered once again by the sharpness of m/n’s tone.

“Why didn’t you help me with dinner,”  she questioned, “let alone, make dinner?”

“It’s too late for dinner,” Y/n replied, “plus I’m not hungry.”

“So, you disregard everyone else in the house after you ate two servings of lasagna?”

“I guess so.” Y/n deadpanned, refusing to fuel the fire with the rebuttal about the lasagna being enough for one person. 

“Unbelievable,”  M/n huffed, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room, “your room’s a mess.”

“Okay.” Y/n replied dismissively.

“No, I’m being serious, Y/n. You’re going to have a roommate in college and I sure hope you two get along through all this mess.” Her mother turned on the lights abruptly, waking up d/n and irritating Y/n. 

“Mom, what the heck,” Y/n fumed, getting out of her bed, and rushing to the wall to turn off the lights, the room went dark once again, “It’s eleven o’clock!”

“I expect you to get up tomorrow and clean this room,”  m/n declared, walking to the food frame, “I’m going to bed, and I want you to think about ways you can use your time more productively.”

Before y/n could fire back, M/n was already gone, shutting the lights of her room off. 

The eighteen-year-old girl couldn't catch a break even before bedtime. M/n, while not overly strict, had this unspoken rule that Y/n should just think like her. It led to endless clashes between them, leaving Y/n feeling weighed down.

Talking to friends helped a bit, but the constant disagreements with M/n still felt like a heavy burden on Y/n's chest. Trying to find common ground with someone who seemed to see the world differently was tough, and Y/n knew there was little to do about it.

"It'll all be over in a few months," Y/n told herself while she returned to her bed, submerging into the covers once more, turning off the television, and falling into a deep sleep, searching for peace of mind.

It was well into the morning when Y/n woke up to the sound of a mourning dove, the clock just nearing 10:45 am. She knew her mother was already awake, perhaps reading a book and having breakfast in her room. She planned to say good morning to her later.

D/n, who was once at the foot of her bed, was now propped up, wagging their tail in excitement to see Y/n, who smiled as she melted into the dog’s soft and loving gaze as she ruffled their fur. 

Y/n decided that this morning she would clean up her room and place all the unnecessary things in a giveaway bag. She immediately went downstairs, grabbed a garbage bag and a glass of water, and rushed back upstairs to get to work in her considerably well-kept room.

She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to; she was doing this so she wouldn’t be greeted by a nagging mother.

D/n remained on the bed, peering over at Y/n curiously as she continued. Y/n opened the cabinet of her desk and began rummaging through items she’d touched in recent months, setting aside everything except for one particular item. Tucked away at the back of the stacks of read novels and old workbooks rested a pristine bin.

She tossed the workbooks aside, intending to dispose of them, and placed the novels on top of her desk next to her computer, calendar, and another smaller stack of books. She then reached for the bin she hadn’t seen in over a few years. It was a simple clear plastic bin with a turquoise lid.

As she eagerly lifted the lid, a rush of nostalgia engulfed her senses. Beneath the lid lay a jumble of crumpled lined papers adorned with intricate drawings, stacked on top of older notebooks, comics, and mangas, which in turn rested upon other well-loved books from her middle school days. It was a veritable treasure trove of memories that Y/n found impossible to resist. Without hesitation, she reached for the first item on top - a character sheet.

Growing up, Y/n's love for storytelling and creativity knew no bounds. She had especially displayed a remarkable talent for crafting complex characters and their elaborate backstories. While progressing in her budding artistic skills, her true passion lay in building and immersing herself in fantastical worlds. She was engrossed in the worlds of anime, mangas, and fiction which surpassed the typical interests of children her age. Her mind was a treasure trove of knowledge, brimming with insights into various fandoms, literary works, and both contemporary and classic fantasy films.

“No way!” she chuckled, flipping through a notebook full of her drawings of characters she’d seen in anime along with anime characters she'd made up. Each page was adorned with meticulous side notes containing non-canon theories, potential romantic head-canons, and intricately woven backstories that she had crafted from her boundless imagination.

As Y/n spent the next twenty minutes soaring down memory lane, she felt a sinking in her chest, leaving her feeling empty and yearning for that same sense of creativity to ignite within her once again.

She continued sifting through the pile of memories until she reached the bottom, where she found a black velvet notebook with plain white pages. Upon picking it up, she discovered that it was empty. Feeling a bit disappointed, she placed all the objects back into the bin, carefully arranging them in the small compartment.

As she did so, she recalled the various stories she had created in the past - witches, vampires, fairies, and superheroes. She especially missed the sense of accomplishment she felt upon completing each small project, as well as the innocent crushes developed on fictional characters from specific scenes and fan fiction.

Y/n missed how she didn't have a care in the world between what was real and what was fake.

She got up and ascended the stairs once more with the garbage bin at hand and placed it at the bottom of the back door. She figured that once her father came back he’d drive it over to the Salvation Army warehouse. She walked into the kitchen welcomed by the blaring sound of the blender her mom was using to make a smoothie. 

M/n stopped the blender and poured some of the smoothie into a glass cup, handing it to Y/n with a “Good morning sweetie.”

“Good morning, Mom,” Y/n replied, taking a small sip of the berry enriched smoothie, “how did you sleep?”

“Oh, I slept fine,” M/n replied, unplugging the blender and setting it aside on the kitchen’s white valley granite countertop, “the bed feels empty without your dad in it.”

“I’m sure.” Y/n agreed leaning against the counter and taking another sip.

“Did you sleep alright?” M/n asked.

Y/n nodded.

“Good,” M/n noted, about to sip her smoothie once more; she then stopped, “Where’s D/n?”

“Upstairs,” Y/n replied.

“You should always take your dog out for a walk in the morning.” M/n inputted, setting her smoothie down.

“I know, but she was asleep and I was cleaning my room and disposing of things I didn’t need.”

“So, you were up this entire time and didn’t bother to walk your dog or make us any breakfast?”

Y/n studied her mother’s furrowed expression, not sure of what to say.

“Your room would have waited, Y/n. You need to start—”

“Mom, I don’t wanna hear it, it’s too early.” Y/n interrupted, feeling her boiling blood course through her veins.

M/n disregarded her daughter's advances, “It’s nearly noon, Y/n and we’ve barely eaten. I need you to start thinking and be able to multitask and take the initiative. What you’re doing right now won’t get you far in your career.”

Y/n had heard M/n repeat this thousands of times, using as many things to say back in previous times, Y/n was now worn out. 

“Whatever.” She uttered making her way to the kitchen’s exit.

“Excuse me?” M/n’s tone was sharper now.

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Y/n, I tell you these things so you can become more mature. The behavior has gotten too far. You’re eighteen years old and it’s ridiculous the way you act at such a grown age. I constantly have to repeat myself—”

“Then don’t,” Y/n argued.

“Then give me a reason not to,” M/n fired back, “I’ve never seen your age treat her mother the way you do and act selfishly and dismissively.”

Y/n sighed, “This is so unnecessary. All of this over breakfast.”

“You belittle everything, Y/n. Grow up.”

“You can relax now.”

“Grow up.”

“Telling me to grow up won’t do anything.” 

“What I’m saying, sweetie is that you–”

“Okay, mom. I get it. I’ll do better.” Y/n surrendered, not wanting to ignite the flame any further. She was already getting a sickening feeling in her stomach.

She exited the kitchen and rushed up the stairs and back into her room, shutting the door behind her. She set her smoothie down on her desk and paced her room feeling a lump forming in her throat. 

“It’s like she always has to start a problem no matter what I do!” She hiccuped feeling her eyes sting with tears. 

“Can’t she just let me live for once, God, for fucking once!” 

Tears streamed down her face, hanging at her chin, she looked outside at the clear blue sky with the sun well overhead.

“Y/n! Walk your dog!” Her mother yelled from downstairs.

“Okay!” Y/n’s seething voice cracked, “shut up.” she muttered sniffling.

“Now!”

“Give me a minute!”

More tears started spilling down Y/n’s face. She sobbed and hiccuped quietly, continuing to look out her window, which was only a few feet away. Her heart was aching, and her throat was twisted in a knot of sorrow; her chest heaved with exhaustion. She started to cry harder after she attempted to swallow her tears; she knew M/n was going to notice her tear-stricken face. 

Y/n grabbed her phone and trudged over to her bed and plopped down on her back, sighing in defeat. She figured that before she walked D/n she would at least distract herself from the pang of sorrow that knocked at her chest. 

She opened her web browser and typed in “labyrinth 1986,” and thousands of search results appeared, including links to websites, articles, videos, and even books and comics.

The girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she clicked on the first image that showed the same book with a striking red cover that Sarah had been carrying at the park.

“No way, there’s an official novelization of the labyrinth,” she gasped as she further searched. To her surprise, there were comics and mangas as well.

The pain Y/n was feeling suddenly subsided, replaced by a sense of wonder and excitement as she eagerly read through the summaries and reviews for each comic, book, and archived piece available.

“Finally back in print and for the first time in hardcover is the novelization of LABYRINTH written by A.C.H. Smith and personally overseen by Jim Henson. This is the first in a series of novels from the Jim Henson Archives.”

“Labyrinth: Coronation is a 12-issue comic book series written by Simon Spurrier and illustrated by Daniel Bayliss, published by Archaia from 2018 to 2019. It is a prequel to the 1986 film Labyrinth that takes place in 18th-century Venice and tells the story of how Jareth became the Goblin King.”

“You’re lying” Y/n muttered, enticed by the various series of books presented before her, she clicked on the official novelization first, seeing that it was available in her local bookstore for $30, seeing that there was only one in stock, she made a reservation to pick it up today on her walk with D/n.

“I have to have it.” She said putting in her online payment, which had been successfully authorized. 

Thank you for your purchase! The book you have requested will be available within 20 minutes. You have two days to pick it up.

“Oh, shit I gotta go.” Y/n gasped frantically getting out of her bed. She rushed to her closet and grabbed a pair of gray sweats and a simple scoop navy blue cami top, throwing on white socks. She grabbed her mini purse with her wallet inside and made her way down the stairs, D/n  followed.

“I’m going to the library, D/n is coming with me,” Y/n said as she passed the living room where M/n sat on her computer. 

“Okay. Take the car of course.” M/n replied in deep concentration on whatever was on screen. 

Y/n unlatched the garage door, the sound of its metal creaking filling the air as she stepped inside. She slipped on her comfortable slides and made her way to her car, with D/n following closely behind her. The afternoon sun poured into the garage as she settled into the driver's seat, and D/n took their place in the passenger seat. Y/n rolled down the windows, feeling the warm summer breeze on her skin as she carefully reversed out of the garage and onto the driveway.

She made her way down Nordstin Street, making a right onto Seems Street, she marveled at the vibrant activity around her, knowing that the lakefront was only a couple of streets away. It was nearly one o’clock, and the streets were alive with the energy of people going about their day.

It didn't take long before Y/n reached the library. Finding a snug parking spot near the entrance.

She turned to D/n, letting all the windows up, leaving the passenger’s side slightly cracked.

“I’ll be right back, the window will be cracked for you,” she said leaning in and giving her sweet dog a peck on the nose.

She quickly exited the car and walked up to the library and opened the dark wooden doors, where she paid no attention to her surroundings as she marched straight to the front desk, which was occupied by a lady cashier. They greeted each other warmly.

“My name is Y/n L/n and I purchased Jim Henson’s Labyrinth today.” She spoke clearly. 

As the lady behind the counter heard Y/n's request, she paused, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she searched for the book. With a few swift clicks to confirm the order, she leaned down and carefully retrieved the treasure Y/n had sought. The rich, crimson book with the elegant golden title "Labyrinth" embossed on its cover was presented before the younger girl, its allure captivating her gaze.

“You’re all set Miss L/n, have a good day!” She chirped sweetly. 

“You too!” Y/n returned as she made her way to the front door, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation as she made her way back to the car. Luckily, there was a park just across the street from the library.

Y/n opened the car door and let D/n out, the leash making a jingling sound as the dog shook its fur. Y/n shut the door and grabbed hold of the leash, holding the book in another hand and the two made their way to Gillson Park.

Gillson Park was one of the more popular parks in Evansville because it was known for its stunning natural landscapes that are cherished by both locals and visitors alike. Characterized by lush greenery, serene ponds reflecting the sky, and winding walking trails on steep hills. Tall trees provide a cool respite from the summer sun, while colorful blossoms add vibrancy to the surroundings. Many may describe it as a meadow away from the bustling suburban life. 

Y/n found a nice bench by an open field, letting D/n’s leash to wander about the grass and flowers. She propped herself so that she was lying across the bench comfortably, her elbow resting on the arms of the bench. She opened the first page and began to embark on her reading journey.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen.” She read aloud, attempting to capture the determination in Sarah’s voice, she chuckled to herself.   

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…”

An Owl glided over the sky unnoticed as it emerged amongst Gillson Park. A creature of pure elegance in the backdrop of the midday scenery. His plumage, a pristine canvas of a bold white, seems to shimmer with an otherworldly luminescence, catching the last rays of the afternoon sun like a cascade of fire woven into feathers. He settled on a branch of the tree that was hovered over Y/n, as she continued to focus on the compelling words in the book. 

His large, dark eyes were fixed on her as she sat with rapt concentration. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes moved swiftly across the crisp, white pages. Her hands were holding the book motionless on the crimson red cover as if she was hesitant to disturb the stillness of the moment.

The Owl’s trance was interrupted by the barking of D/n, his heart shaped head turned to the direction of the galloping dog making its way to Y/n, who looked up from her book, set it on her lap, and petted D/n softly.

“This is a good book so far, D/n,” she said with a smile, “I appreciate its detail.” she leaned down and ruffled the dog’s fur, smothering her pet with the love and affection they deserved. 

Unbeknownst to them, the owl had been silently observing Y/n's every move from the highest branch of the nearby tree. Y/n shut the book and got up from the bench to grab D/n's leash. As Y/n closed the book and rose from the bench, the owl maintained its vigilant watch, its piercing eyes following their every step. Y/n secured D/n's leash, and the two began their stroll back towards the library's parking lot, the owl gracefully gliding from tree to tree, never losing sight of them.

Once both were in the car, the owl perched on the concrete edge of the library's roof, its keen gaze fixed on the departing car as it merged into the occupied street. 

Only when the car disappeared from view did the owl spread its feathered wings and take to the sky again, disappearing into the horizon.

[anundyingfidelity]

MEMORIES LOST — Jareth x ofc/fem reader. Ch. 3.

Summary: A mysterious woman falls into the Underground, claiming she does not have memories and not knowing why she is there. Jareth, who's bored and taking slight pity on her, takes her under his wing to ease some of his own misery. Post Labyrinth (1986).

Warnings: nudity, masturbation, voyeurism, manipulation, corruption, smut in general.

Word count: 1,333.

Note: female character is named Leah, but no physical characteristics (such as skin color, hair, eyes, etc.) are described on this story. Feel free to imagine how she looks like.

I also think this might have 4 or 5 chapters in total, I'm still deciding on that lol.

In this chapter: dirty oral sex (m receiving), kinda manipulation, and corruption.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

This fanfiction is also posted in Ao3 under the name undyingfidelity.

Chapter 1. | Chapter 2. |Chapter 3.

The woman hummed a happy melody, walking around the aisles of the castle. Leah just finished her duties late that night, but she was still full of energy, so she didn't mind staying up until it was almost midnight.

As curious as she was, she found a great and magnificent door in the castle, she assumed it was the throne room. Leah did not recall ever getting in there, she was intrigued by how would it be. It was already late, and the door seemed not completely closed. The aisle was empty and there was no one around, so carefully she got inside the room.

Leah felt cold hitting her body for some reason as she closed slowly the door behind her. She observed the roof was very high and that Goblin stone heads decorated the place, making it a little intimidating. Leah looked at the throne at the back of the room, giving short steps and getting near the stairs of Jareth's empty seat.

She stopped right on the edge of the stairs, deciding whether or not to climb the stairs and sit down on the throne. Maybe she would feel powerful, just like he did. Leah swallowed thickly, thinking about the control Jareth started to have on her. Even if his orders and requests were mundane house chores, his voice and the way he managed to tell them made her feel chills and strange sensations in her body.

"I didn't expect a visitor," a familiar voice talked behind her.

She swallowed thickly and remained still. Jareth's steps got closer and closer until Leah felt the heat of his body near of her own.

"Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" Jareth questioned the woman, getting dangerously close to her, almost breathing into her neck.

"And how are you supposed to know that?"

Jareth smirked against her skin. "Oh, there are a lot of things I know about you, Leah."

Her name fell from his lips like the sweetest thing he ever heard, weirdly liking how it sounded with that deep voice of his. The Goblin king started to walk around Leah graciously and slowly. His presence was intimidating the lady, as he circled her, feeling just like his own prey without anywhere to go.

Maybe she did, but something inside of her was aching to remain right where she was standing, waiting for his next move. Jareth stopped right in front of Leah, standing face to face. He observed her from head to toe and she felt like he was eating her alive with his gaze at that moment.

"You're such a dirty girl," he teased. "And you have behaved badly, entering my throne room without permission."

"I- I didn't know it was your throne room, I'm sorry-"

Jareth interrupted her poor excuse and his hand moved steadily to her neck, applying a little of pressure around her delicate skin. He leaned down, almost touching her lips, feeling her pulse increasing.

"I wonder how you expected me to react," Jareth said darkly.

"I promise I won't do it again, just- can I leave?" Leah breathed out, her chest rising up and coming down due to her breathing and heartbeat increasing.

"I don't think I want to let you go tonight," he whispered and closed the gap between them, kissing her harshly. "You do think about me a lot at night," he said, remembering how she touched herself the past few days with him on his mind.

Jareth bit her bottom lip, searching for her tongue, and he savored the way she easily gave in, moaning against his mouth, letting the king lead the kiss they were now sharing. His hand slowly made its way to her neckline and breasts, feeling her hot skin with his fingertips. Jareth broke the kiss and whispered against her swollen lips.

"You will not escape from me, little dove, and that is an order."

Leah let a moan past her lips. Her mind was screaming for her to leave the room and run away, but her body was aching for him, for Jareth. For his touch. She desired to know what other things he could teach her, what other feelings and sensations her poor, inexperienced self would encounter. Her body was hurting by now; her body was yearning for him so deeply and she felt a pool starting to grow between her legs. And despite everything, she decided to stay. So she kissed him again, desperately, willing to obey his command.

As much as Jareth was enjoying the wet kiss they were sharing, he suddenly pulled away and walked upstairs, until he sat down carefully on the throne, looking at his prey from above. His pants were tight by now, his bulge prominent, aching to be freed. A smirk formed on his lips as Leah watched him with lustful eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Come here," he ordered harshly.

Leah followed his steps, climbing the stairs to stand in front of the Goblin king. Jareth took her hand, making her stand between his legs. The woman shivered with anticipation of what was going to happen and learned she loved the feeling of his skin on her own.

"On your knees."

Leah did as he ordered immediately, dropping her legs to the hard floor until she was facing his crotch. But her eyes never left his beautiful face. The king undid his own pants with fervor, releasing his hard cock, aching to be touched by the woman on his knees.

With a grin, Jareth read her naughty mind, realizing it was a mess and he, proudly, was the cause of that. Leah had nothing on her mind, but lust and longing for him. She felt strange sensations on her body and a weird feeling down her belly when he motioned her to come closer, breathing against his erection.

"I will guide you and you will do as I say, is that clear?"

She eagerly nodded, as submissive and innocent as she was.

"Suck."

He caressed her cheek with his hand, guiding his dick to her beautiful parted lips. She took his tip into her lips, tasting the salt on his sensitive skin. Leah started to give small licks on the tip and trace his veins with her tongue. She went slowly, making sure to keep the image of the powerful king shutting his eyes in pleasure as she went further with her lips parting around his cock and hollowing her cheeks.

Jareth's hand came around the nape of her neck, forcing her to take more of his cock inside her warm mouth. He guided her pace until she knew what he wanted from her. Leah continued, as he caressed her scalp and soft groans left his lips.

Jareth bucked his hips, just to tease, and he felt the back of her throat. She gagged a couple of times, and oh, how Jareth loved the sound of her choking with his dick repeatedly as he fucked her mouth so deliciously like he had dreamt of. He was close to the edge.

Her eyes began watering at the rapid pace he settled on her, taking him as deep as it was possible for her poor throat. The obscene sounds filled the throne room, Leah continuously gagged around his cock and low groans and moans escaped his mouth, until he finally felt the sweet release.

Leah felt him spill his seed inside her mouth, but she continued bobbing her head a couple of times, savoring the bitter taste of his release. Jareth pulled out of her mouth, groaning at the messy look in her eyes and saliva combined with his seed running down her chin. She looked even more exquisite like this.

The king leaned down, cleaning her bottom lip with his thumb and forcing the fluids into her mouth again.

"What a wonder you are," he praised.

She held back a moan, staring straight into his dark eyes. "Did I do well?"

"Yeah, and you're going to do better."

[gabbytbll]

GUYS I watched labyrinth and i fell in love😭

I think it's the hair ngl- idk his hair makes him so attractive to me😔

THE WAY HE TALKS TO IS JUST AHAVDJSBSUDB

Im going feral and foaming at the mouth👹

(watch the movie it's actually pretty good)

(im gonna go read fanfiction now😋)

[hotpinkboots]

IDEA IDEA

so jareth and lost child reader who goes into the labyrinth on accident and gets stuck there, so jareth sorta becomes like a semi-distant caretaker to the child, gender neutral PLEASE

Also have a lovely day 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

~~~~~

~Father figure!𝕵𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖔𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝓚𝖎𝖓𝖌 x Child!Reader Headcanons~

Thank you, darling! I hope YOU have a wonderful day, too!

Summary: As a child lost in the Labyrinth, it can be both a fun, exhilarating experience, and a terrifying, confusing experience. Luckily, you're being looked after by the Goblin King himself. Warning(s): None

~~~~~

~At first, Jareth was sarcastically thinking:

"How grand. A child, of all things. I bet I'll be hearing it screaming all the way from my castle."

~He then found himself viewing your journey through his crystal balls, saving you at the last minute if you were in danger, and finding it amusing when you were so proud of yourself for solving a puzzle.

~It did not take very long for the Goblin King to realize that he had grown fond of you.

~Jareth occasionally shows up to taunt you and give you more challenges. He won't go easy on you just because you're a child. But, if you perhaps start feeling overwhelmed and you shut your eyes in fear, suddenly the thing that had been threatening you disappears into thin air. He pushes you around and tests you to find out what you can and can't handle.

~For awhile, it's as though you're simply a piece of entertainment for him. He keeps poking at you and teasing you.

~This is because he thinks you're cute. You're cute when you get upset, you're cute when you're trying to outsmart him, you're cute when you're intimidated by the big scary Goblin King. So, he keeps pushing you around to get a reaction. For awhile, he acts more like a bratty older brother, rather than a father figure.

~Jareth will grow softer towards you. He eventually takes pity when he sees you growing genuinely frustrated and fidgeting because your feet hurt from walking. First, he decides to materialize out of nowhere to spook you. Then, he helps you out. He won't give you answers, nor will he simply let you through whatever challenge he has set up for you, but he'll give you hints, and walk you through it until you figure it out.

~Imagine a patient teacher helping you figure out a math problem.

~You may notice that he has more of a soft and proud look to his expression when you solve the challenge.

~From this point on you're his kid now YAY

~~~~~

Request Guidelines!

Join my Discord Server! There you can talk about my fanfiction, roleplay, chat, watch movies and listen to music with other fandom nerds!:

~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

[somedaylazysomeday]

Dreams - Part Four

After your conversation with Jareth, you experience yet another restless night.

Jareth x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,300

Warnings: Sleeplessness, suggestive language, themes of being trapped, ominous warnings, masturbation (interrupted), sex toy use, negotiation, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, discussions of boundaries.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You had avoided sleep that night for as long as you could manage. 

Yes, according to Jareth, the labyrinth’s hold on you was already too strong to fight. You would continue being pulled along those stone corridors until you found yourself unable to leave them. And, honestly, you didn’t want to look too closely at how your life would progress after that point. 

It may have been a losing battle, but what was the alternative? You had never been one to meekly let someone control your life. Not parents or friends, jobs or partners. And certainly not unbearably cocky Goblin Kings and their labyrinths.

But in the end, you would have been better off sleeping as early as possible. Rather than the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the labyrinth, the only thing that greeted your eyes when you fell asleep on your couch was darkness. 

You woke up a few hours later, neck aching from the awkward angle your head had fallen into and confused to see your ceiling rather than the orange sky over the labyrinth. 

You sat up - groaning and massaging the muscles of your neck as you did so - and tried to process what had happened. Dreams of the labyrinth had been unrelenting since your last meeting with Jareth. And now that you had met him again, they had stopped? 

No. You didn't trust it. 

When you reluctantly went to undress and brush your teeth, you had the strangest sensation at the back of your sore neck. It was almost a…tingle. A faint buzz. Your first instinct was to blame it on Jareth and more fae nonsense, but you eventually had to admit that you had energy for the first time in weeks. Not as much as you needed and certainly not enough to fully restore you, but it was better than nothing. It was almost enough to give you hope. 

With that tender and delicate hope filling you, you climbed into bed and settled under the covers. Despite feeling more rested than you had in a while, you still found yourself dropping quickly into the abyss when you closed your eyes. 

Only to find yourself utterly exasperated when you started to dream. 

“What could you possibly want?” you demanded, rounding on Jareth. 

To his credit, the Goblin King looked surprised for only a moment before his expression changed to pleasant blankness with a glimmer of distant mischief. “Well, if you’re offering…”

“I’m not offering anything,” you shut down immediately. “But we already spoke today, which is more interaction than we’ve had in months. Earlier, I had some blissful sleep without any interruptions. Why am I dreaming of you now?” 

“I would think the more pressing question would be why you are not dreaming of my labyrinth.” Jareth tipped his head to the side and you could only be glad you were in a dream. If you were in the real world, a movement that dramatic would have left everything in a five foot radius coated in glitter. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. You weren’t stupid enough to miss the redirection, but it was something you were curious about as well. “Fine. Why am I dreaming about you and not the labyrinth?”

“Your dream of a horse and its potential rider. Until I have managed to reach the responsible party, you will not dream of the labyrinth again,” Jareth told you. He managed to sound simultaneously unruffled and irritated by that. It was a neat trick. “But its hold on you will not lessen.” 

“Fascinating,” you said flatly. “And now, for the second time: why am I dreaming of you?” 

“Perhaps you missed me,” he suggested with a sly smile. 

“That’s not it,” you assured him. “But honestly? I’m less concerned about figuring out the cause than I am with finding a solution. I want to end this so I can get some sleep.” 

“One moment, my little champion.” You glanced back at Jareth expectantly, having already started walking away. “As it happens, this meeting is fortuitous. I have more information about your mysterious dream.”

You stared at him. “I don’t really need to know a horse’s name.” 

“I agree,” Jareth told you easily. “Names hold power. But if you are in the labyrinth and hear hoofbeats, run.” 

“I did that and it didn’t help very much.” 

He continued as if you hadn’t spoken at all. “And if you hear hoofbeats when you are awake, immediately go inside the nearest building. Call a taxi or take transportation to your destination, but do not walk long distances. That would be a wise choice in general: minimize your time outdoors, especially when you are alone.”

By that point, your interest had been piqued. “It sounds like you know exactly who or what the horse is.” 

“I have my theories,” he said darkly. “An old enemy, intent on interfering with my plans. Yet until they take official responsibility for the attack on you, I cannot make any official moves in response. So we wait.” 

You nodded slowly. Someone working against Jareth’s plans for you could be useful. From everything you remembered about the fairy stories while you were growing up, there was no such thing as a true fae ally, but perhaps the enemy of your enemy could indeed be your friend… 

“Whatever you are thinking, pet,” Jareth interrupted, voice cracking harshly across your skin, “stop. If the one behind this attack is who I believe it to be, they are far more likely to kill you than help you escape me. You are of no use to me dead - they will have no such reservations.”

“Fine,” you agreed, feeling unsteady at the idea that being involved with Jareth against your will had lined up enemies against you. Talk about being kicked when you were down. “So, run when I hear hoofbeats, or get into the nearest building. No walking long distances outside, especially when I’m alone.”

“Precisely.”

Silence fell thick and uncomfortable. You shook your head sharply, pulling yourself back to the moment. The motion attracted Jareth’s attention as well. “Well, this has been an enlightening and incredibly disconcerting meeting. Thanks for that, I guess. Will you please stay out of my dreams now?” 

“I already told you, I am not the one who brought us together,” the Goblin King said. 

“Fine, then I’m going to try a second time for dreamless sleep.” You turned away. “Bye.”

“Are you certain you wish to do that?”

You stopped short, suspicion rising in you. Turning your head slightly allowed you to keep Jareth in your line of sight. “Why?”

Jareth stepped closer, motions deliberate. Of course, you were back in the nothingness where you had been the first time you met with him in a dream, so it was hard to gauge how far away he truly was. “Do you not wish to take advantage of this time? I cannot help but remember the last time we found ourselves in a position like this one.”

You gave an inelegant scoff, trying to impart the full strength of your disbelief only through an expression. “How can I even begin to list the reasons that would be a terrible choice on my part? I’ll start with the lack of sleep, continue with the light stalking you’ve been doing for the past few months, and then… Well, considering how sleeping with you worked out for me the last time…”

Jareth listened patiently through your refusal and explanation, waiting until you had stopped listing things to counter. “There is nothing more I can gain from our being together. Other than the pleasure of being with you, of course.”

“Of course,” you agreed sarcastically. “Why should I believe that?”

“Because I cannot lie to you, of course.” The gesture he gave was flourishing and entirely unnecessary. “And, much as I despise leveling accusations toward your so-impressive independence… I know that you need me.”

“To what, exactly?” You planted your hands on your hips and watched him take another subtle step toward you. “To ruin my life in even more creative ways?” 

He lifted one elegant brow. “How could your life possibly be ruined by someone whose presence you hardly notice?” 

“Your ego cannot be the reason you’re tormenting me right now.” 

“As if there is anything more important.”

You sighed sharply. “Okay, if it speeds this conversation along, I’ll bite: why do I need you?”

Jareth grinned, exposing a pearly flash of those unnervingly sharp teeth, and took a final step toward you. It closed the space that had once existed between you, and you found your heartbeat picking up at the overwhelming closeness of him. 

“You need me…” he drawled, pausing to draw a slow breath through his nose, “to satisfy that desperate ache deep inside of you. And as for biting? Do as you please.”

You did your best to ignore the filthy smirk he gave you with the invitation. Instead, you took stock of your body. Jareth was a first-class asshole, but he had a direct line to your libido. You had been too exhausted to get together with anyone since the ill-fated encounter you’d shared with Jareth, and you were feeling the lack of physical contact. Still, you would have to be stupid to fall for that again. 

But nothing said you couldn’t mess with him a little.

The duck of your head hid any mischief that might have otherwise been apparent and made you look flustered. You were fine with that. “I can take care of any aches by myself.” 

“Can you?” he asked, voice silky. “I think you fall short of it. Your fingers can’t reach where you need me, and toys only stoke the burn. Am I correct?” 

He took a half-step closer, pressing against you. The feeling of his hard length against your hip made you swallow loudly, irritated by the heat that ran through you at the sensation. That heat was stoked even further as he slotted a leg between yours. “I’m sorry, pet, I didn’t hear your answer. Am I correct?”

“I… shouldn’t,” you admitted softly. “There are things you don’t know about me. Important things.” 

“Mmm?” Jareth hummed, lips pressing just above your ear. The low laugh he gave made you shiver, chills running through every inch of you. He shifted, putting pressure on a very sensitive place with his thigh. “I know everything there is to know about you. I have made a point of it. There is nothing you could possibly have hidden.” 

“That’s not true,” you told him, though it was gasped out with a helpless moan as his teeth nipped at your neck. “You don’t know the things I did after I ran your labyrinth the first time.”

“What did you do?” he asked, sounding intrigued. “Tell me, sweet.” 

“I spent a lot of time thinking about you.” Your head fell to the side as Jareth applied stinging pressure to your skin. “And even more time… practicing…”

Jareth pulled back, mismatched eyes studying your face with intimidating intensity, heat dancing over his expression. “Practicing what?” 

Your eyes were hooded as they met his, a smile curving your lips. Your hips gave a instinctive little rock, grinding your core against the solidity of his thigh. “Lucid dreaming.”

And then you drew every ounce of strength you had, dredging up the memories of the lucid dream training you had done - on your own and encouraged by a therapist during your college years. With an incredible strain, you wrenched yourself awake. 

Even with the high of triumph, there was no getting around it: you were uncomfortable.

You were swollen and wet, which was particularly frustrating, since you had changed the sheets when you had gotten home from the coffee shop. But if that was the price you paid for making Jareth’s life less pleasant, it was one you were happy to pay. Hell, you were tempted to get yourself off. You were ready enough. In fact…

You didn’t bother turning on a light - you knew how to find everything you needed by touch alone. The top drawer of your bedside table had always been reserved for toys, and you refused to be embarrassed about that. The exhaustion of the labyrinth dreams had kept you from finding someone to sleep with, but you still had to meet your own needs. 

A pump of lube for the toy - a generously endowed rabbit vibrator - and another to increase the slipperiness of your own folds, then you were ready. When you pressed the vibrator into yourself, your folds parted easily to admit it.

The toy speared deeper and deeper and you reveled in the way it stretched you. When it bottomed out inside of you, you paused to let yourself soak it all in. You were tight around the silicone shaft, the ‘ears’ of the rabbit vibrator pressing firmly against your clit. And then you switched it on. 

The best part about that particular toy was that you didn’t have to manipulate it overly much. You didn’t get a lot from thrusting it inside of yourself, but it had the perfect curve to press against your g-spot and the clitoral stimulation was delectable. You could just insert it, set it to a vibration pattern you enjoyed, and ride the wave of sensations until you came to a gasping climax around it.

You were well on your way there already. Much as you hated to admit it, the meeting and subsequent flirtations with Jareth had left you keyed-up and ready to go. The toy was only finishing something that had already started. 

One hand kept the vibrator positioned exactly where you needed it while your other hand rose to play gently with your nipples. The additional stimulation made you clench, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm soared ever-closer. Your head tipped back, eyes closing as you tried to breathe and stay quiet at the same time. 

Your fingers slipped from the toy - your grip impossible to keep with the wetness coating the silicone and your fingers - and then it was gone. You floundered your way upright, still reeling at the edge of orgasm and looking around in search of the vibrator. With the darkness of the room, you couldn’t see it… but you heard it hit the wall with enough force that you were worried about the drywall. 

“What the hell-?” 

Greedy lips descended on yours, your mouth filling with the taste of glitter and magic. You lost yourself in the kiss for a moment, meeting the questing tongue with rhythmic presses of your own, but you soon freed yourself with a punishing nip against a plush bottom lip. 

“What are you doing?” you demanded. 

Jareth’s hand dropped from his mouth, returning your glare with one of his own. “Do you really think I am incapable of finding you? I would think you understand by now-”

“Yeah, yeah, blood and magic,” you summarized. “But why are you in my room?”

“Because you need me.”

Your brows rocketed upward. “Need you? No. I had everything I needed until you took it away. By the way, if you broke that toy, I’m going to be furious. It’s my favorite.”

“Your loneliness calls to me, little mortal,” Jareth said. Some trick of the moon outside your window illuminated him just enough to see the way his eyes had changed to that otherworldly fullness, one eye drowning in black depths while the other burned in green fire. “Despite your clever trick, we are not finished.” 

“I think we are,” you countered. 

Jareth groaned, sharp and violent and impatient. “So uselessly stubborn! I cannot leave you until you are satisfied. I have taken your needs under my care.” 

You squinted at him. “Is that an actual fae thing or something to do with your pride?”

“Perhaps I have simply decided to atone for the sleepless nights you’ve suffered alone,” he suggest. 

“Perhaps I’ve realized that, when you use ‘perhaps’, you’re trying not to lie.” 

He sighed. “You should spend less time analyzing my motivations and more time considering my offers.” 

“I haven’t heard anything tempting enough to accept your offers,” you countered. “So far, your main argument is that you would have sex with me as a gesture of goodwill. Well, I don’t accept. I’m perfectly capable of meeting my own needs - especially if you didn’t manage to break my favorite toy. But you haven’t offered anything I’m truly incapable of getting for myself.”

Jareth bared his disconcertingly sharp teeth at you. Somehow, the expression seemed less intimidating than ever-so-slightly amused. “Very well. What would you like in return for allowing me access to your delectable body?”

“Other than a limit to such cannibalistic wording?” you pressed. “To start, it wouldn’t be unlimited access. One-time access for a pre-specified amount of consecutive time-”

“My, we are laying out terms rather carefully,” Jareth murmured.

You ignored him entirely. “But in return, I want… I want dreamless sleep.” 

“No.”

“That’s not how you bargain.” 

Jareth smirked. “I am a king. Bargaining is not an overly well-developed skill of mine.”

“Hard to believe you have enemies who want to kill me,” you said dryly. “Let me help you out: you give a counteroffer that’s closer to what you actually want.”

“I want permanent access to you in every way at all times.” 

Your mouth fell open, then closed long enough for you to take a deep breath and push it out. “No.” 

“I am given to understand that is not how one should bargain,” Jareth told you helpfully.

“I want you to leave me alone, never see or speak to me again, and I want to never be touched by magic again for the rest of my life.” You crossed your arms, only then realizing that your sheets were dangerously close to exposing your legs and the fact that you were unclothed below the waist.

“Impossible,” Jareth told you, a single flick of his eyes telling you that he had noticed your attempts to subtly pull the sheets up and your shirt down. 

“Then we are apparently at an impasse.” You flicked your fingertips at the door of your bedroom. “You can go out the same way you came in. I’ll expect a new vibrator if you broke mine. Goodnight.”

Jareth didn’t move, but you managed to slip from your bed without flashing anything delicate to the room. You retrieved the toy from where it had fallen, running your fingers over the wall to be sure your unwelcome guest hadn’t put a dent in the surface. 

“Very well,” a harsh voice gritted out. You turned to find Jareth standing behind you, expression foreboding. “In return for your temporary admittance to your bed, I offer a predetermined number of dreamless nights. Is that acceptable?” 

You took a moment, pretending to consider it. In all reality, you were fighting the urge to take a large step back. It was easy to pretend sometimes, but behind the veneer of care, cordiality, and relentless pursuit, Jareth was dangerous. The menace poured from him, and something deep inside of you screamed for you to run. 

But this was not the forest or the field or the jungle. Jareth was hunting you with slow steps and measured manners, sweetly urging you to give yourself away one piece at a time. You could resist that - at least, you liked to think you could - but you didn’t seem to have an option. 

The only way to win was to leave Rachel to him. Or never speak those words at all. 

“Yes, that is acceptable,” you agreed when you were sure your voice would be steady.

The ensuing negotiating session was slow and painful, but at least it gave you an idea how highly Jareth prized getting together with you. In the end, you agreed that he could stay with you until dawn. In return, you would get seven nights of sleep with only the dreams that your mind concocted for you. 

“It seems we have reached an accord,” Jareth concluded, holding out a hand for you to shake. 

You reached out, but paused at the last moment. “And… this won’t change anything? About our situation, at least?” 

“Nothing more than an improved mood for us both,” he promised. You believed him. 

How far you had fallen.

The instant your fingers made contact with his, Jareth pulled you closer. You braced yourself for a kiss - or even a grope - but he buried his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath. 

“Are you sniffing me?” you asked. It was a rhetorical question; there was little else he could have been doing. 

“Ah,” Jareth sighed, releasing you. “I always forget that human senses are so terribly weak.”

“And there’s the condescension,” you muttered, trying to pull back from him. 

Jareth’s grip tightened on you, locking you in place against him as he shook his head. “You cannot pick a fight with me, little champion. We have an agreement and I have no intention of releasing you from your part of it. I am here.”

“Only until dawn,” you reminded churlishly. 

“Precisely,” he agreed with a sharp grin. “There is no time to waste.”

You were in his arms, then you were in the air in his arms, then you were on the bed in his arms. The dizzied spinning of the room around you had left you fully disoriented, and you had no idea how he had managed to get both of you horizontal without releasing you. 

When Jareth’s grip on you disappeared, it was only to strip you of your sleep shirt before busily setting to work on his own clothing. Despite your nudity, your past, and the delicate situation he had interrupted when he arrived - which you still refused to think about too hard - you found yourself suddenly feeling awkward. 

“What’s on the agenda?” 

“First, I’m going to indulge in one of my longest-held fantasies,” Jareth told you, excitement glittering in his eyes. They were starting to look distinctly more fae, and that made chills run over your body. You couldn’t entirely tell whether they were from fear or interest. 

“Which is?” 

You were flat on your back in an instant, hips propped up on a pillow as Jareth’s shoulders pressed your thighs further apart. His face was poised at your entrance, lined up so perfectly that his slightest exhale made you tighten. 

“Guess,” he drawled up at you. 

Any clever response you might have offered got caught in your throat, stuck behind a noise that you would give anything not to loose. Instead, you just watched him, knowing your eyes were wide and your lips were parted. It was an expression that spoke more clearly than you wanted it to, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

Jareth smirked like he knew the state of your uncontrollable thoughts and lowered his head. 

You thought briefly, fleetingly, about the sharpness of his teeth and the way you hadn’t been willing to risk this the first time you were together. The thought lingered for only a fraction of a second, because you were catapulted into the stratosphere the instant Jareth touched you with his mouth. 

He was slow, methodical, though his explorations were wicked and merciless in a way that slowness rarely allowed. He found every sensation that made you squirm, milked the way you couldn’t catch your breath when he pressed just so with his fingers inside of you, reveled in the way your hands fisted in the sheets when he teased your clit with the faintest flick of his tongue. 

Jareth didn’t pull away from you - a good thing, since you might just weep if that happened - but one of his hands snaked up to pull yours down to his hair. You didn’t need much encouragement, especially when you felt how surprisingly soft those strands were. Both of your hands sank deep into his hair, holding him in place or moving him where you needed him most.

He was shockingly obliging, allowing you to steer him as you clutched desperately at his head. But, even as your orgasm started really approaching, Jareth slowed further and further until he was barely moving. The slight pressure and warmth of his mouth wasn’t enough to push you over the edge and you groaned as you felt the pleasure start to plateau, then slowly ebb back out of you. 

“Jareth…”

“I do love when you use my name, pet,” Jareth told you, and you despised that he pulled away to say it. “But you know how I feel about your pleasure without me.” 

You stared down at him, aghast even as you remembered how he had insisted on being inside of you before either of you came last time. Mid-plea, you changed tactics. You spread your thighs still further, far enough that your hips ached with the stretch, and said, “Hurry.” 

Jareth sat up, the lower half of his face shining with you, but he certainly did not hurry as you had requested. Instead, he took an eternity cleaning his face. Not wiping it on his arm or  using the sheets to dry himself off. No, he gathered every hint of you from his face with his fingers, which trekked back and forth to his mouth until any trace had been swallowed down. You watched the process raptly, feeling as though you might actually die from arousal if he didn’t finish soon. 

He settled on the mattress beside you, seeming utterly pleased with himself when you threw your leg over his hips and pulled, dragging him against you. He smiled, murmuring something, but your entire being had narrowed down to the way his cock felt sliding through your folds and you didn’t catch what he had said. 

Jareth was still gloating when you pumped your hips again, catching his head with your entrance and pushing him partially inside of you. His otherworldly eyes went wide with shock as his body reacted without any consent from him. His hands locked onto you - one on your shoulder and the other splayed over your hip - as he gave a stuttered thrust. 

That wasn’t enough to seat him fully in you, but it was enough to make you clench so tightly around him you worried he would be forced from you. It wasn’t, obviously, and Jareth quickly used his grip to pull you down as he pushed up and in, sinking fully inside of you in a slow, stretching surge that left both of you gasping with the shock of it. 

“How are you possibly gripping me so tightly when we spent all of that time stretching you out?” Jareth asked, a hint of unsteadiness in his voice.

“Tongue ver- ah -versus dick,” you pointed out. 

Jareth grimaced. “Crude word.” 

“But accurate.” 

He withdrew rapidly, pulling out until only his head was left inside of you. When you shifted uncomfortably, he pounded back into you so hard that you could almost imagine an audible noise from his hips hitting yours. “Does a sensation like this feel like it could stem from something as crass as a ‘dick’?”

“Are you really talking about vocabulary right now?” you asked, struggling to keep the words even. 

“Perhaps I am attempting to prolong this experience,” Jareth gritted out. 

You tilted your head at him. “So much for ‘perhaps’ being a half-lie. You’re close, aren’t you? That was fast…” 

Jareth’s lip curled as his hand slid from your hip to your thigh. He tugged your knee further up, shifting his own hips just enough to hit the center of your g-spot with every thrust.

You had a split second of profound discomfort. G-spot orgasms rode on the edge of ‘too much’ even when you were feeling relaxed with someone you trusted, and they were on the wrong side of that line with Jareth. The intense pressure in the cradle of your hips made you frown, a small pained sound falling from your lips. 

You took a breath, ready to tell Jareth that he had to pick a different angle, but the hand that had once been on your shoulder disappeared from it, reappearing between your legs. With a wriggle to get between the lips of your pussy, Jareth’s thumb pressed hard against your clit. 

The spike of sensation turned the ‘too much’ pressure on your g-spot into blinding pleasure, and you were fairly certain you were screaming as your body did its best to explode from the combination. 

Jareth’s orgasm could have been kicked off by yours - probably was, owing to the vice grip of your core around him - but you were unaware of it. The pleasure hit you in wave after overwhelming wave, each one knocking you down before you had recovered from the one before it. You were robbed of sight, sound, and touch, every sense dulled by the glittering onslaught against your sanity. It turned you into a shapeless, formless thing, unable to do anything but feel, and even that was overwhelming. 

When it finally ebbed enough for you to be somewhat aware of your body again, you were trembling as you sucked in breath after breath. 

“Any further jokes about my stamina?” Jareth asked, shifting.

You caught at his shoulders, seized by the unbearable tenderness of your entrance. “No- don’t move yet.” 

He settled down once more. “I cannot say I regret the company in the afterglow.”

The smug look on his face made you frown at him. “Don’t do that again. I mean it, Jareth.”

As you had intended, the use of his name grabbed the Goblin King’s attention in a way little else did. He scowled a little. “You seemed to enjoy yourself well enough.” 

“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” Jareth grew smug once more, but you shook your head. “You don’t understand. It felt great, but also kind of bad. It’s… a lot. I have to be in the right mood for a g-spot orgasm, not have one pushed on me.” 

“Why?” 

If his tone had held anything other than genuine curiosity, you would have told Jareth to go to hell. As it was, you felt the need to explain. “It’s like the expression ‘flying too close to the sun’, in the true mythic way. It’s pleasure, but it’s sharp. Heavy. Intense. It makes you wonder if you’ll ever feel anything but that again. They’re nice if you’re in the right frame of mind for it, but not entirely comfortable.” 

Jareth nodded slowly. “I am sorry for pushing it on you, then. I assumed I was doing you a kindness.” 

If you didn't know better, you would think you and Jareth had just had a mature exchange. The idea was too strange. 

“Thank you for listening,” you returned cautiously. “You can pull out now.” 

He did so slowly, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. Your wetness and his cum helped him slide out without too much friction, and you relaxed when he was free of you. You curled up slightly, the closest you could get to cradling your hyper-sensitive junk in mixed company.

“That’s the other bad thing about a g-spot orgasm,” you told him. “I’m going to need a little more time to recover before I can go again.” 

“No need, little human.” Jareth nodded to the window. Your curtains were drawn, but you could see hints of light gilding the fabric edges. “Your part of our deal has been fulfilled.”

“Oh.” 

It seemed anti-climactic, though you were grateful you didn’t have to scrape up the effort for another romp with the Goblin King that night. And, to a lesser extent, you were excited to get some sleep free of fae dreams. 

“Do not sound so terribly disappointed,” Jareth said, smiling. “Your week will end almost as soon as it begins and then we will see each other once more.” 

“That makes me disappointed,” you fired back.

Jareth’s smile only widened, like he didn’t believe you. You didn’t entirely believe yourself, either.

And that scared you to death.

---

Author's Note - Guess whose one-shot grew a plot? I'm working through a backlog of fics right now, but this is one of my favorites and I'll probably end up back here sooner rather than later.

Thanks for reading! I would love to know what you thought!