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somedaylazysomeday · 6 months

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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

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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.

#labyrinth #labyrinth 1986 #jareth #jareth the goblin king #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert fanfiction #jareth x reader #jareth x fem!reader #jareth x you #lemon #spicy #minors dni #not suitable for minors #ink's asks #ink's fics

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rose-and-thorn-fanfics · 1 year

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Hello! I have a request for Jareth from labyrinth if that's okay?

Could you write where, similar to Sarah but instead of wishing away a sibling, fem!reader wants to actually be taken by Jareth to his kingdom and they end up falling in love? Like, he shows her around his kingdom because she loves fantasy and makes her his queen? Thank you so much and I hope this makes sense! and please take your time!

“We’re choosing the path between the stars…” (Jareth x Fem! Reader) Labyrinth Fanfic: Part 1

The only comfort in a world so rotten was a dream, a yearning for distant lands of a fantastical nature. Y/n knew this well. Her life was a nightmare and when she looked in the mirror her eyes were the only bright part left of her lifeless face. Sighing with defeat, she turned from her bedroom mirror and threw her bruised body onto her bed like a rag-doll. Weeping into her pillow she hugged herself as each sob made her breathing ragged. Thunder boomed, and rain beat at the windows of the second-story bedroom. Y/n’s father had left to work, a night shift, giving her a brief hour of peace without fear of a beating before her wretched mother came home from her job to torment her. Y/n rolled over on the bed, facing the wall with her bookshelf, now empty after her parent’s fit of rage where they followed through on their threats to box up and donate all her books. Sniffling, she sat up and reached into the crack between her mattress and her headboard, where she had stuffed her favorite fairytale book in anticipation of her mother and father’s actions.

“Labyrinth…” she whispered. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room momentarily with its cold glow. “Oh if only the Goblin King would take me away like he steals away the child in this book.” Y/n said, managing a smirk (despite the stinging pain from her cut on her lip). “I would do anything to get out of this awful place. But would the King really take an interest in me?” She got up and made her way over to her mirror, leaving the book open on her bed as she examined her face, her body, her posture. She knew she wasn’t hard on the eyes. Y/n had been in countless unsuccessful relationships with the popular boys at her college. But that didn’t mean she was without insecurities. ‘Still…’ she thought, then rushed back to the book. Flipping through the pages she found what she was looking for. The line in the book that might’ve changed her life for good, if only she’d read it out-loud. ‘This is silly…’ but her stomach felt like it was filled with stones as she stared at the words. It was a fairytale, but it was one she truly believed, even if Y/n was reluctant to admit it. Those words had weight. Now… she just had to say them. “I wish the Goblin King would take me away…” She paused, feeling her heart skip a beat. “Right now.”

Lightning flashed again, illuminating her bedroom in its brilliance. Y/n closed her eyes and stood there, waiting. Nothing happened, although when she opened her eyes the lights had gone out. She repeated the words again, this time louder. Still nothing. She said it again and again, until her throat hurt. Eventually Y/n gave up. She left her room and went down the hall feeling blindly for a flashlight on the shelves outside her parent’s bedroom. BANG. CRASHHH! Y/n whirled around stumbling through the darkness back to her bedroom where the loud noise had come from. She flashed her flashlight around her room. The doors to her balcony had flung themselves open, and rain poured in, soaking the ground. She blinked as it hit her cheeks. Y/n grabbed the handles of the double doors and forced them closed. They clicked as she locked them, and only then did she notice the electricity in the air, as though…. ‘As though someone is watching me…’ She thought, heart racing. She turned slowly, trembling. The Goblin King stood there, a few feet away, surrounded by glitter and a dark sweeping cape.

“You… came…” Y/n blinked back tears.

The King flashed her a wickedly handsome grin. “You’re a lucky girl, Y/n. If I hadn’t been looking into my crystal, I wouldn’t have bothered answering a call like yours. You do know that changing the words makes them less effective?”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Y/n mumbled. “Your majesty, you have no idea—“

“—Jareth, darling, its Jareth.” He interjected, stepping forward into the moonlight that peaked through the storm clouds and reaching up towards her face. Y/n stared up at him with wide eyes as he used his gloved fingers to brush away her tears.

“You have no idea how relieved and grateful I am that you came, Jareth.” Y/n said, blushing nervously as he examined the bruised side left side of her face. She watched his eyes darken with intensity as they observed the clear remnants of her last beating. “I can explain…” Y/n said, wracking her brain for less embarrassing alternatives to the truth of her situation at home.

“No need.” Jareth frowned, as if he understood the truth just by meeting her gaze. “I’ll grant your wish, Y/n, but you must understand once I take you to my palace, there is no returning to this world. There is no turning back.”

Y/n nodded without hesitation.

“Well then, you’ve made your decision.” He smirked. The Goblin King took her hand, and the room around them faded into a blur. Y/n felt dizzy as the light of a setting sun overwhelmed her senses and wind blew her hair back. She found herself overlooking an infinite maze from the highest window in a castle. The sky was coral and amethyst as the sun got lower and lower. Jareth sat across from her, fingering four crystal balls so they spun in circles between and around his fingers. seeing his handsome face in this new lighting took Y/n’s breath away.

“The book doesn’t do you justice…, you know.” Y/n said softly.

King Jareth arched an elegant brow, but said nothing. He turned the crystals into bubbles and let the wind carry each one gracefully away. Finally, after quite some time, he spoke. “There’s a masquerade tonight. I suppose I wouldn’t mind if you should show up…” He said smugly, turning to her.

Y/n smiled. She remembered the masquerades mentioned in the book. “Of course! I’d love to go.”

To be continued in Part 2….

#fanfic #labyrinth 1986 #labyrinth movie #labyrinth #jareth #jareth the goblin king #movie #labyrinth fanfic #labyrinth 1986 fanfic #labyrinth fanfiction #jareth x reader #jareth x fem! reader #80s films

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steddie-thirst · 2 years

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The Goblin King | Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader |

Note - Those of you who were reading the original crossover, this is the new idea I reworked and came to enjoy much more, so please indulge in letting me know if you enjoy this version much more.

Summary: Jareth has complete control over his realm, until an unexpected turn of events throws him for a loop. In order to retain his spot on the throne he must secure a bride and in his venture to the human realm he discovers you, but you have already been swept off your feet by someone else. Jareth plans to change that and Eddie has to defend his love.

Please enjoy! Let me know if you wished to be tagged as well.

The drive was quiet save for the soft humming of Black Sabbath from the old radio in Eddie's van. He interrupts reaching over to cut the music off, "How old is your grandmother exactly?" Eddie asks, taking his focus off the road briefly to glance over at you. He watches you shift in the leather seat and then takes his gaze back to the road.

"She's sixty, Eds." You reply with a smile, tilting your head over towards Eddie. He hums, thumbs tapping on the worn leather of the steering wheel rings clanking together. Eddie was one of the most notorious fidgeters, biting his nails, fiddling with his rings, tapping, knee bouncing and blank stares. "You don't need to worry so much. She'll like you."

Eddie shakes his head eyes focused in on the road, "Baby its.. its not that. She's like the only relative you know of that is still alive. What if she's not up to meeting us." He shrugs, and you stare at him as he drones on.

"She sent you a letter, sure." He started, "However, what if she sees us and instantly regrets it."

"Eddie, stop. Relax." You assure your boyfriend reaching over to place a soothing palm over his knee, rubbing your thumb in small soothing circles. "It's gonna be okay, Eddie."

He nodded, a sigh of relief escaping him, feeling the tension release beneath your ministrations. "I trust you, baby. I do."

When arriving at the house Eddie's nerves start to get the better of him as he pulls the gear into park. He fumbles with the seat-belt and went to reach into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, but you stop him. He's shaking, but as soon as your eyes lock it stops. "Everything is going to be alright, Eddie."

Things were going to be just fine. Visiting your Grandmother Sarah was taking a toll on Eddie, but she had written letters mentioning something urgent. This something would change your life forever.

TAGLIST:

@yaspillz @dahliamae @munsonloverblog @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @shyposttree @damon-loves-pie @fanficfanatic204 @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @marianita195 @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @buchanansbaby @rollergirlworld @allithewriter @555stargirl555 @gothguitargal @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @carol-munson @ali-r3n @letmebeyoureuphoria @cherry-omi @harrys-tittie @yearwalker96 @lipglossanon @thepastdied @brittney69

#stranger things eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson #labyrinth jareth #stranger things x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #x reader #the goblin king #jareth x fem!reader #jareth the goblin king #eddie munson stranger things

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cardierreh15 · 30 days

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Web Of Lies

Warnings 18+: Violence , Cursing , Smut , Use of Deadly Force , Near Death Experiences , Blood , Mentions of Parental Loss . (Will be adding more along the way 😊)

Chapter 1: Itsy Bitsy Spiders WIP ⚠️

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bnbc · 1 year

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hanahaki

_____

don't reupload my content to other sites

#oh look DYING GOBLIN #cyberpunk 2077 #fem v #oc koulin #female v #gigilpunk #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk oc #street kid v #hanahaki #just in case #fem v friday

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allknowingbirb · 7 months

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The gender goblin stole my gender and left a seasoning of gorl. But then gave the slider for the amount of girl to a monkey. And I didn't notice till just now.

Can the gender goblin not do a little trolling

#nonbinary #agenderflux #libraflux #gender is weird #gender goblin #my gender is controlled by a monkey #please tell it to pick an amount of fem #and then stick with it

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graveyard-stray · 4 months

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Graveyard Stray’s X Reader masterlist

(Writers info here)

Below you will find all my fanfics! Click the link above for my writers/request info

Cillian Murphy

🪦~ Cillian

That’s a Wrap // Fluff + Autistic Reader

🪦~ Thomas Shelby

Since you returned // Angst & fluff

Me or her. // Angst to smut to fluff

Cuddling with Thomas Shelby // Fluff slight angst

Tommy NSFW Alphabet // Smut! But of fluff & angst…

🪦~ Johnathan Crane

Stress relief // fluff

🪦~ Jim (TDS)

Girl Nextdoor // Smut

Star Wars

🪦~ Anakin Skywalker

Please stay. // Angst & Fluff

🪦~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

Bedtime Story // Fluff

Criminal Minds

🪦~ Aaron Hotchner

Morning Workout // fluff? Silly

🪦~ Spencer Reid

Without you // angst & fluff

Bandom

🪦~ Gerard Way

Lazy Sunday Morning // fluff

Your Instagram except your dating Gerard way

Marvel

🪦~ Norman Osborne

Five more minutes? // fluff

🪦~ Bucky Barnes

Nightmares // Angst & Fluffy

The Walking Dead

🪦~Carl Grimes

SFW Alphabet // Fluff, angst if you squint

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l4wlii · 2 years

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Goblin tieflingg!

#probably click for better quality #digital art #digital sketch #manga art #artists on tumblr #character art #character design #digital painting #monster girl #cute #fem goblin #goblin girl #dnd tiefling #dungeons and dragons #d&d art #dnd character #imp

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lilgoblinbitch · 22 days

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Sweetheart 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

from Anon: "I kinda need that rick grimes dumbification you teased at. I know you crushed it"

a/n: yes this was one of the drafts i mentioned on my poll a bit ago! I had a lot of fun writing this. enjoy!

warnings: 18+, PinV unprotected sex, slight dumbification, fingering, slight choking, angst, kinda mean/mocking Rick, edging, cussing, cum swallowing, very vague mentions of past drug usage. (lmk if i missed anything)

wc: 4.3k

Rick Grimes and you had an unsteady ‘relationship.’ Ever since Glenn Rhee, your best friend, welcomed you into the group, you and Rick constantly butted heads. It was like you couldn't agree on any one thing to save both of your lives. And whenever the two of you were alone, Rick often acted as your chaperon, always on your tail nagging you about how you were going to “get yourself hurt.” It irked you to your core. You could handle yourself, and you proved that to him plenty of times, but it just never seemed like Rick was going to trust you under any circumstance.

Glenn and Maggie liked to snicker to themselves, teasing you from time to time that Rick probably had a little crush on you, but you never understood how. That man never even smiled at you; all he did was badger you and make you feel like a fool. What the hell did they know?

“No! I’m not going on a run with him alone, Glenn. You know I’d rip his head off once he starts acting like an authoritative asswipe. And that would be on you for making me go.” You argued with Glenn, who was already scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“Y/n, honestly. You need to learn how to get along with him. Trust me, he’s not a bad guy. Remember I told you about how he led us out of Atlanta? We would have been part of the dead geeks back in the city if it weren’t for him.” Glenn was always the best motivational speaker, and sometimes you disliked how right he could be.

“I know he’s not a bad guy. I know what he did. But that doesn’t change the fact that Rick has never really treated me like one of you guys. I feel like he’s always seen me as just some — some bitch who got lucky finding a group of strong survivors,” You turned to Glenn, who was rubbing his face like he had a counter argument ready to be made, but you spoke again before he could. “Besides, Rick has never once asked me to go on runs with him, this would be awkward.”

“Not unless you make it awkward. Look, there’s no use in the two of you resenting each other, so I think this might be helpful.”

“I don’t feel like I’m helpful, though... helpful enough, I mean,” you admitted, glancing back up at Glenn who was staring at you intently, a sympathetic glint in his eyes. “I feel like I don’t pull my own weight around here very much. I mean, at least outside the walls. Just wanna feel more useful, and Rick often made me feel the opposite.”

“Well, I know you feel that way because I know you well. But you know you do more than enough for this community, especially keeping inventory and helping Olivia manage rations, and you helped rebuild the walls. You’re strong, and you’re one of us. That’s why Rick is taking you on this next run,” He reassured and patted your back lightly. You blushed and nudged your best friend on the shoulder. He never failed to put a smile on your face. “Come on, this is your chance for you to prove yourself to him. I believe in you.”

Of course you could never say no to Glenn, especially when he was so kind to you all the time. Seriously, the guy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. So, you gave Glenn a half-smile, swallowed your bitterness and stomped your way over to the gate where Rick was already waiting.

“You got the list?”

The car was dead silent, besides the rumbling sound of the tires on the road. Rick was driving, his eyes hyper focused on the road ahead, and just for a few ticks he looked down at his pocket to pull out a crumbled slip of paper. With his gaze back on the road, he held the paper out for you to grab. When you went to grab it from his hand, you could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours for a split second. Although that didn’t seem to affect Rick very much, as his eyes were still glued to the road and both hands gripping the steering wheel.

Sighing softly, you unfolded the slip of paper and read it under your breath. Your eyes scanned it — not much was on the list, considering a team already went on a supply run the week before, and since you were in charge of inventory you knew the supply for food was not low. Looked like all you’d need to find today were extra rounds of ammunition and a few flare guns.

You desperately wanted to speak, to break the uncomfortable silence that occupied the car, but nothing in your head seemed adequate. So you slumped in your seat and picked at the loose skin of your fingertips while waiting to arrive at your destination.

After a short while the car reached a halt, and Rick wasted no time in getting out. “We’re here, grab a bag from the back and let’s go.” He shut the car door and opened the back door, reaching in to grab a backpack and sling it onto his shoulders. You did the same, after stuffing the list in your back pocket. The car was parked a few hundred feet from a worn-down gun shop on the side of the road. You honestly would have missed it if it weren’t for Rick and Daryl already scoping the place out last month; trees, overgrown grass, and shrubs all contributed to the clandestine nature of the shack.

The two of you took down a few walkers that popped out of the woods near the car before making your way into the rustic shop. You slipped your dagger back into its sleeve and pulled the list back out of your pocket. Rick was preoccupied with scoping the area, ensuring no walkers or other living beings were lurking in hidden areas of the room. The shop had a cabin vibe to it, and even the cobweb added to the scenery.

Your eyes never lingered too long on one area of the room — you needed to find flare guns while Rick gathered the other items. Each step you took around the shop sent the floorboards squeaking, earning nasty looks from the sheriff. Rolling your eyes, you stepped quieter across the room. Soon enough you found a small wooden crate collecting dust underneath a broken shelf. Inside it were random items like a piece of rope, a toolbox, and a few other paltry trinkets. You pursed your lips and raised a brow, grabbing the dusted, rusty old toolbox and holding it up in the light. You swiped the layer of dust that coated the lid and then snapped it open. Your lungs released a dissatisfied sigh when you noticed all that was left in there was a wrench and a rusty nail. Bummer.

“We need another wrench? ‘Cause I just found one!” You joked, scanning the room for Rick, until you realized he wasn’t in your view anymore. You huffed and took the wrench, throwing it into your bag and placing the useless toolbox back onto the shelf.

It didn’t take you long to find Rick, who was shoving his find of items into his bag in another room. “Rick,” you caught his attention abruptly, but only for a moment. He went back to packing stuff into his bag. “Only thing I found was a wrench, there was nothing–”

“I got everything we need,” Rick interrupted. He shuffled by you after zipping up the backpack and swinging it on his back.

This man really knew how to push your buttons; you were truthfully at your breaking point. Before he could leave the room you snagged his arm, turning him to face you. You were irritable, and he could see it painted all over your face with the way your eyes pierced into his. Rick sucked in his cheeks and held your stare, before turning his head to the wall and running a hand through his tousled hair.

You thought back to what Glenn told you — the pointers and pep talk he gave you before you left with Rick. This was the only time you would be able to talk with Rick with his undivided attention and no distractions around you.

“We need to get past this bullshit,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“What bullshit?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Rick.” His eyes met yours again. The self-assuredness you fought so hard to keep dwindled, like the wick of a candle crumbling under the dying fire.

“I– we, um…” you licked your lips and collected your composure, “You know we’ve never really been on the best of terms, ever since Glenn found me on the road to Virginia…”

Rick’s silence and fierce gaze made this all the more difficult for you. You were never great at confrontation in the first place, and this man just had to complicate it even more. “Ever since then, we haven’t really been able to get along.”

“We saw things differently. And you didn’t trust me,” he jeered.

“You didn’t trust me,” You retorted.

“Guess we’re even, then.”

You grinned, but not a happy grin — a grin that could convince your mind that you were satisfied in this moment. It was something you usually did as a child; you thought that if you smiled really hard then maybe your brain would actually think you were happy. It didn’t work right now, though. You turned away from Rick, the grin faltering and a frown replacing it.

“I never meant for things between us to get this complicated and tense… I was in a really rough place when Glenn found me and I could only trust him.” You peered at him once more, “Rick, I’m sorry if–”

He shushed you, a hand reaching up to your cheek to comfort you. This was something foreign to you; the only times he touched you was if he was handing something to you and his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against yours. Now, his hand was placed on your cheek, and his eyes softened after seeing your tender ones pleading at him.

“I’m sorry, too…”

You were close now, his body only inches from yours. One tiny step forward and your bodies would collide. But that wouldn’t happen — couldn’t happen. You would not let it...

“Rick,” you stepped backwards a foot, not anticipating to crash into the wall behind you. His focus was on you, only you, and it made you feel many different things. “I need to know — I need you to tell me we’re okay now. That we–” his body was inching closer to yours again, and you tensed up. “Tell me we’re on good terms now.”

“I shouldn’t have waited this long.”

You were flustered, cheeks beet red. Your back was flush against the wall, hands gripping the paneling for support. “Waited...for what?”

Rick’s taller frame finally pressed against yours. You shuddered under the pressure. “Waited...to touch you–” his eyes darted across your face, landing on your puffy pink lips, “Wanted to, for so long.”

Your lips parted, unsteady breaths leaking out. You swore you could feel your heart pounding on your chest, begging to tear it open. His lips were nearing yours, and there was nothing you could do to stop it — nothing you wanted to do to stop it, at least.

He leaned in close, breath a fervent cloud bouncing off your face. “I think you want it, too.”

A fire ignited inside you, one full of an almost unfamiliar sensation — lust. Something you’d suppressed for so long and never realized you still had in you. Rick Grimes seemed to be the only man to successfully light that spark in you.

It was time to disregard the small voice in your head, the one that was screaming and scolding you for letting lust conquer your conscience. Rick could see right through your tough shell; you were like putty in his grip. So desperate for him to touch you.

Rick tutted at you, thumb pad pressing your chin, directing your eyes to his magnetic blue ones. “Knew you were needy f’me. Ever since you first looked at me.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” His hand snuck down to your denim crotch, fingers briskly tracing the zipper.

“I need to know, Rick — why you always fucking nagged me. If you wanted me, why would you make me believe the exact opposite?” You interrogated, trying to divert the topic to distract the fog clouding your mind. Rick’s finger traced designs across the v-line of your crotch, your breath hitching in your throat each time he dragged a digit down closer to your clothed heat. “You never–” you swallowed hard, gathering your composure back, “You never have long enough conversations with me, just quick enough to avoid our usual tension. And, I don’t recall us ever going on a run alone together.”

Rick’s eyes pierced into yours, his fingers coming to a halt at the hem of your jeans. “The only time I ever see you is when you need to check in on our ammunition and inventory, or when you need me to watch Judith. Even then you don’t really talk to me much.” You slapped Rick’s hand away from your pants, exasperation washing over you. “Oh, and, I can’t forget to mention that you weren’t even the one who invited me on this fucking run. Glenn did!”

Rick took a step back from you, placing his hands on his hips. He bit his lip, averting his eyes to the ground. Your brows furrowed in displeasure. You were aware that Rick was most likely working up something to retort, however impatience got the best of you.

A groan from you filled the silent air. “Please, just explain it to me! Tell me something. Anything!”

The look in his eyes was intensely passionate. You were crumbling against the wall; just his eyes had that effect on you.

“You were like a lost puppy for Glenn, and then Daryl for a while. And it made me angry because–” He closed the gap between you once again, “You were too caught up in acting like a whore instead of being with me.”

Rick’s face was close to yours, his hot breath fading into your own. You were too shocked to react, too dumbfounded by his choice of words. Did he really deem you a whore?

“I was protecting you all along, and you were too dumb to fucking realize that, huh?” His gruff voice boomed in your eardrums and sent shockwaves through your body. “I should have had you sooner, that was my mistake. But I have you here now, Y/N.” A hand slithered across your neck, gently squeezing it. You bit your lip in anticipation, squeezing your legs together to create friction for your aching core — an arousal you didn’t quite recognize until Rick grabbed your throat and brought it to life.

You were aroused, and Rick acknowledged it. There was no need to keep hiding it. Hastily you grabbed Rick’s face and smashed your lips together, hungry for him. Being that close to him wasn’t enough — you needed him closer.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly, almost two years worth of sexual tension released from it and relieved moans from the both of you harmonizing within the small shop. Rick’s hand slithered down to your crotch, right where he had left off not too long ago. Only this time, he wasted no time in slipping his hand between the waistband of your pants and the soft fabric of your lace panties. You pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily and eyes half lidded.

“Such a pretty girl… always letting me take care of you, hm? You know I’m s’posed to look out for you, ‘cause you’re too hopeless without me, sweetheart,” he cooed, his hand slipping further down your pants and flicking your panties to the side to expose your dripping heat. His fingers explored your slick folds, and you felt your back arch in response. Your hips bucked forward instinctively; you were in a trance, unable to comprehend your current emotions or actions. This was wrong, it shouldn’t be happening right now. This man hated you — at least, you thought he did; now here he was, playing with your cunt like all grudges were dropped.

Your hands gripped the back of Rick’s neck, fingers latching onto the soft curls at the base of it. Two of his fingers plunged into you without an issue; you were already soaking for him. You felt so vulnerable under this man’s touch, like he placed some sort of spell upon you, and you couldn’t find the strength in you to push him away. Maybe this was supposed to happen — maybe Rick knew what he was doing, and maybe he knew what you needed. At least, it felt like he knew what he was doing.

You couldn’t help but examine his facial features: his scruffy salt and pepper colored facial hair added beautiful texture to his chiseled jawline; his soft pink lips a shade darker than normal from your own lips eating at them; and oh — his eyes. You could never get tired of those eyes. They were hypnotic, a shade of sky blue that reeled you in the longer you stared into them. If this man wasn’t a sheriff, he would’ve done well as a fisherman – judging by the way he reeled you in so effortlessly. Although this man carried himself like he was a stone-cold sergeant, his graceful beauty was downright conspicuous; the fact that you never really considered how attractive Rick really was, honestly boggled you.

The pace of Rick’s fingers quickened and your hips grinded into his hand. His palm pushed against your needy little bundle of nerves, heightening your pleasure. Each thrust of his fingers into your wet heat brought you closer and closer to the edge. “Such a dumb slut. So fucked just from my fingers inside you. S’like you never been fucked before, so tight,” Rick cooed, his tone dripping with vehemence. The sensations were too much — you couldn’t remember the last time someone did this to you, made you feel so good.

Without warning you came undone around Rick’s digits, that nostalgic feeling in your core jetting pleasure all throughout your veins. “Oh, fuck–”

Rick pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to your lips. “Wanna taste yourself, sweetheart?” Except he didn’t wait for a response from you; carefully he slipped both fingers through the entrance of your slightly agape lips. Your tongue licked at his digits, cheeks sucking in as you lapped the juices up, tongue relishing in the bittersweetness of your flavors. Your mind was fuzzy.

Rick slipped his fingers back out of your mouth. “Think I fucked you well enough with my fingers?” He rasped, starting to unbuckle his belt. You swallowed hard, licking your lips, legs still shaking like a chihuahua. “No words? Damn, can’t wait to see how you react when I stuff you with my cock.”

You accepted your fate; rightly so, officer friendly had you at his beck and call. One orgasm was not enough yet, according to the restless motions of your hips, and somehow Rick perceived this before you could. Within seconds his brown jacket, the one he adored wearing — and most importantly, slay his enemies in — was tossed across the wooden plank floorboard and the white t-shirt that hugged his toned frame forgivingly was peeled off. You could not refuse your eyes the opportunity to explore Rick’s body. His sculpted frame was an absolute eye vacation; he wasn’t body-builder buff but he was fit and you could tell he took good care of his health. The skilled celerity of his hands practically ripped off his tattered jeans, landing on the floor with a thump from the weight of his belt and holster. You ogled at his veins popping out, and how they trailed along his forearms and outlined the sculpting of his muscles. These were all things that made you wetter by the minute.

Rick wasted no time in shoving your jeans and panties off, putting your dripping heat on full display. A wicked smirk plastered onto his face, and you scanned his eyes; they were dark and unrelenting. Your body was a pulsing, sweating, yearning machine and Constable Grimes was the only troubleshoot that seemed to exist in that moment.

“You gonna be good while I fuck your cunt?” Hands roughly clutched both of your thighs, setting them at both sides of his hips. Fervently you nodded, feeling the tip of Rick’s leaking cock tease your entrance. Even more of a confirmation of your consent was the manner in which you were wrapped around his hips; you were fiending for the sensation of being filled up by Rick’s cock. “Such a needy slut, I just gotta–” one intense thrust of his hips sent his cock driving sharply into your slippery hole; “fuck the whore outta you and–” thrust, “make you my sweet, sweet girl.” Strained squeaks and whimpers spilled from your panting mouth while Rick pounded into you. A few stray curls danced upon his forehead, sweat drenching his hair.

The man was a fiend for you too, his licentious grunts solid proof of it. “Mmph, fuck, Rick!” Your lewd cries a melody in his ears. Your tight bundle of nerves collided into his pubic bone rhythmically, adding to the concoction of whatever pleasure potion was being poured into your blood. Your strength was depleted, limbs desperately hugging around Rick and fingers clawing into his back.

“So tight for me. Need my cock to stretch y’out, right?” Rick chuckled lowly, the sound reverberating through your body. The thrusts of his hips never ceased, only for a swift moment when he placed you down on his jacket that was lying on the ground and picked right back up with his cock ramming into your cunt. The force shook your legs, and it almost felt like they were going to go numb. Rick was on his knees, holding your legs flush against his torso and shoulders while he found the perfect angle to greet your g-spot with the thumping of his tip against it. Your siren song moans were everything to Rick — however, he wasn’t going to risk having anything impeding this moment, and that meant drawing as little attention to the shop as humanly possible.

“Gotta be good for me, an’ stay fuckin’ quiet.”

His hand clasped your mouth roughly while his hips continued to drive relentlessly into your dripping pussy. His body leaned close into yours, your legs pressed flat to your sides — all spread out for him to fully access your obedient hole. He was hitting all the right spots. His lips eventually replaced his hand on your own mouth, going back and forth between dragging out your bottom lip between his teeth and wrestling your tongue with his — he ended up winning that duel.

Rick attached his lips to your neck, nibbling at the exposed skin with his teeth and evoking hushed mewls from you. He kissed and sucked your skin as he fucked you on top of his jacket. Skin on skin and the wet squelching of your pussy — the sounds were white noise to him.

Your fingers dug into his back and shoulders as he transitioned to a more graceful pace, letting your body shift along with his. “Look at you, goin’ dumb from my cock. Feels good?” He mocked you, smugness washing over his entire face.

You were unable to form coherent sentences, not with how Rick was rocking into you and incessantly ramming his tip into all the right spots. Felt better than any drug you ever did in college. All that clouded your mind was how close you were to reaching the point of no return. “So close,” was what squeaked out of you, stimulation to both your clit and g-stop all too overwhelming. Your body was preparing to succumb to the pressure.

Rick looked down at your features; your face scrunched up in pleasure — mouth making perfect “o” shapes, and sweat gleaming on your skin. You were taking him so well, being so patient for him.

“Tell me how good you feel, sweet girl.”

“So good, Rick! Ungh– need to cum, please!”

He smirked, rubbing circles upon your swollen clit; “Cum f’me.” And that was all you needed to hear to let the jetstream of pleasure erupt through your body, your wet cunt gushing while Rick steadied his pace thrust by thrust. His orgasm was near, you could tell from the way he started twitching inside you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the warm euphoric feeling you were experiencing was clouding your senses. “God, you must love being fucked, huh?” Rick tantalized, admiring the way your tits bounced and how your arms flailed around, reaching for something to grab onto but were too weak to do so. It was bringing him closer to his climax.

The empty feeling he left you after he pulled his cock out made you frown, unable to formally fuss because of the state you were in. He started stroking his shaft, thumbing the pink tip. “Open your mouth, hun,” was the only warning he gave you as he sat you up and released a thick ribbon down your throat. You lazily licked up the treat he gifted you, then lay back down on his jacket.

You simpered in that position while Rick cleaned the both of you up, kissing your cheek as he did so. Glenn was right, somewhat — Rick wasn’t a bad guy, and maybe he did have a crush on you after all. You just weren’t exactly expecting the events that had recently unfolded in a gun shop of all places.

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somedaylazysomeday · 2 months

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Dreams - Part Three

You've had uncomfortably vivid dreams since your last meeting with Jareth. One night takes it too far and you decide to confront him about it.

Jareth x fem!reader

Rating: Mature. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 3,600

Warnings: Mentions of bad dreams and sleeplessness, stalking, mild equinophobia, fae bullshit.

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Once upon a time, you didn’t dream.

It had concerned you back then, made you wonder if there was something wrong with you. At any rate, you had suspected that the cause was a wild-haired fey king with mismatched eyes and a penchant for glitter.

You dreamed every night now. And this time, you knew the cause.

Jareth, the fae Goblin King, had done this to you. You weren’t entirely certain how, but you there was no other reason you would be back in that damned labyrinth every time you closed your eyes. Especially since your last meeting - in a dream, of course - had ended with him threatening to track you down no matter how far you ran.

There were a lot of other activities that took place during that meeting, but you tried not to think too hard about them. It wasn’t difficult. You were often too tired to think about anything other than things that were necessary to function in your everyday life.

You saw Jareth, of course. Not terribly often and never close-up, but he was clearly keeping tabs on you. Sometimes, you would round a street corner only to see him disappearing behind a building in the distance. Or you would catch the scent of glitter and magic in the air when the heating kicked on at your job. Or you would come home, darkness pressing against the outside of the open blinds, and find that a single owl feather on the exterior windowsill.

The Goblin King had definitely not disappeared. The only thing you couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t made his move. You understood fae patience, but he had everything he needed to find you. He had found you. So why was he following you around and inflicting the dreams on you instead of doing something more concrete?

Perhaps he was waiting for the dreams to push you over the edge of your sanity. For no particular reason, the dreams seemed to be the worst part.

Any time you slept, you found yourself transported to the labyrinth. It was so close to being what you remembered from when you had run it almost a decade before. High stone walls stretching down either side of you until they met on the distant horizon. The labyrinth had always been impossibly large. Dead branches of fallen trees scattered the corridors and glitter coated random places along the way. When you had first seen them, you remembered wondering if those glitter-covered stones were where a runner’s time had run out. Once in a while, you would catch a glimpse of the twisted castle at the center of the labyrinth, looming in the distance like a fever dream.

And yet, no matter how similar this labyrinth was to the one in your memories, it was not quite the same. It was just as big, just as glittery, but it seemed empty. This dream labyrinth was… desolate, somehow. Abandoned in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The labyrinth was, as always, ever-shifting. In your dreams, it seemed determined to keep you on the outside. No matter which of your tricks you used, you never managed to work your way into the interior of the maze. You were always stuck in the long exterior walkways meant to exhaust and deter runners. It was frustrating, to put it lightly.

The worst part, however, was that the dreams were anything but restful. When you woke up from your nocturnal visits to the labyrinth, it felt as though you had gotten minutes of rest instead of hours. The exhaustion was wearing on you, even more so than the dreams themselves.

You were in one of those less-than-restful dreams now.

This was either your third or fourth stone corridor - you couldn’t remember, and the nights blended together behind you. Dreams of the labyrinth didn’t fade with time, acting more like memories than true dreams in your mind. In any case, you weren’t going to make much more progress that night. You could feel time passing outside of the dream and you could only hope your alarm would blare soon. The only reason you kept walking is because you refused to stare blankly at a glittering stone wall for the rest of the time before you woke up. The very thought made you want to scream.

Eyeballs on fungal stalks watched you move past and you flipped them off as you went. They didn’t seem offended, though one blinked when you kicked a chunk of rock ahead of you. It skittered down the walkway ahead of you, and your spine tingled as you realized the sound of stone on stone was growing louder instead of fading away. That worry didn’t disappear when you caught up with the then-still rock, passing it as the sound continued to grow louder.

You were close to a corner of the labyrinth by that point and your pace picked up slightly as you stepped into another corridor. Maybe the source of the noise would come into view. Maybe that would even be a good thing, though you weren’t holding your breath.

As you hurried down the new corridor, the noise grew louder and the pace of it - once steady - had increased dramatically. You felt an odd shift in the air of the labyrinth a bare millisecond before a shape emerged from around the next corner.

The stretches of rock, weeds, and glitter that made up the outer edges of the labyrinth were ridiculously, impossibly long, and it was difficult for you to see what the shape was, but it seemed wrong. How, you weren’t certain, but it strained your already-taut nerves. The rhythmic sound continued to grow louder, though it stayed at that increased pace… and you suddenly realized what it was.

Hoofbeats.

You frowned even as your feet slowed. If that was a horse, it was a truly massive one. At least the size of a Shire horse, if not a little bigger, and approaching faster than you could believe. In fact, you wondered if you should turn back the way you had come. You wouldn’t be able to outrun the horse, but anything would be better than approaching it head-on.

You weren’t afraid of horses. That much was a constant in your life. You had never gotten the chance to spend a lot of time around the animals, but they didn’t make you nervous. But surely being afraid to face down a behemoth horse galloping in a narrow stone walkway was proof of self-preservation instead of fear.

Even in the moments you had taken to consider turning back, the horse had nearly halved the distance between you. It was still at a distance that made it difficult to see clearly, but it was much closer than it had been before. By that point, you could see that it was a horse, it was larger than any horse you had ever seen, and that you were scared.

Before you could really process what was happening, you had spun on the toe of your shoe and started running as fast as you could in the opposite direction. It wasn’t a pace you could keep up long-term, but all you needed was a little bit of space.

Suddenly, the labyrinth was open beside you. For all of the time you had spent searching for the optical illusion of the openings in the walls, you had never found one. But now, the labyrinth seemed to be urging you further into its heart. You would normally find that suspicious, but the pounding of hoofbeats behind you was closer than ever, close enough that you could feel each percussive strike of a shod hoof against the ground rattling your ribcage.

You tore through the gap in the labyrinth’s walls, hurling yourself against the opposite wall and ricocheting off. When you had caught your balance, you started moving in the direction the horse was approaching from. With any luck, it would keep running and you would keep running and both of you would end up as far away from each other as possible in your individual lanes of stone.

Beside you, the labyrinth rebuilt itself. Previously, you had only seen the aftereffects of it moving - changed layouts, new passages, courtyards that went missing between one glance and the next - but you had never seen it in motion. It was still incredibly quick, but you could see the slight upward motion of the wall before your eyes, like the labyrinth was building it from the ground up, but impossibly quickly.

Speaking of impossible speed… the hoofbeats were already on the other side of the new wall. There was no way it should be there already, even with the pace you had seen it traveling. You froze when the hoofbeats abruptly stopped, and you staggered to a halt at the apex of your run so you could listen intently. Breath whooshed through nostrils as the horse shifted its weight.

You were panting from the effort of running, but you clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your gasped breaths. Maybe you had seen too many horror movies, but you had a strong fear that a single sound from you would make something dramatically bad happen.

The horse took a step. Then another. It started walking in the direction you had come from and you stood listening for far longer than you thought necessary. But that still wasn’t long enough for your heart rate to ease to a speed that wouldn’t lead to you passing out in one of the glitter piles.

When you could move again, you took careful steps until you could press a hand against the wall that had saved you. The stone was warm under your hand, rough and solid as every other wall in the labyrinth.

You preemptively shut down any stray feelings of gratitude that may try to surface. “I’m not going to thank you for saving me. You’re the one who kept me out of here all this time.”

Then you felt stupid for talking to a wall, so you quickly turned and hurried down the corridor in the direction you had been walking. Or, at least, that had been the plan. Your foot collided with a fallen tree trunk - not large enough to hurt you, but large enough to make you trip. You narrowly avoided falling flat on your face, but the sounds of your shoes against the stone ground was loud.

Every muscle in your body tensed, the tension skyrocketing to levels that made your throat tight. It didn’t plateau, either. It ratcheted higher and higher until you were ready to scream… but the sound of hooves pounding against stone snapped the tension so thoroughly that all you could do was start sprinting down the corridor.

The hoofbeats came up on you, again with that impossible quickness, and you glanced back over your shoulder in terror. You caught sight of a black shape surging up and over the wall of the labyrinth and your knees went weak with terror.

When you opened your eyes, they started searching the ceiling of your room for any hint of a giant black horse. There was none, of course, but you still struggled to get your breathing under control. You were panting, your lungs aching with the effort of trying to outrun the beast. A sheen of sweat covered your body and you grimaced at the dampness of your pajamas and the sheets under you. Your top sheet and comforter had been spared only because you had kicked them off so violently that they lay in a heap on the floor beside your bed.

As soon as you were fully awake and cognizant of the lack of danger, your wide-eyed stare turned into a glare. You hadn’t slept well in so long. The dreams of the labyrinth left you with a sense that you had spent all night wandering rather than resting, but you had never woken up mid-dream. Then again, you had never been chased in your dreams, either.

In any case, this really was too much, and you decided to do something about it. Unfortunately, the only thing you could do was find Jareth.

Finding him was a remarkably simple process. The employees at a local coffee shop had given you an odd look when you asked to sit outside. It was early spring and winter still lurked in the night. It was nearly an hour until dawn, and the air hung cold and humid.

Still, they had said the patio was open. You stepped outside with your beverage and chose a seat facing the sidewalk. Then all you had to do was wait.

It took longer than you had expected, but really only a few minutes had passed when you watched Jareth approach. His hair was just as wild as ever, but he had traded glitter and skintight pants for leather gloves and a peacoat.

The Goblin King took a seat next to you, comfortable as if you were old friends. He settled into the chair and lifted a cup to his lips. He definitely hadn’t gone inside, but your memory went fuzzy if you tried to remember whether he had always had a drink with him. But the logo under the clutch of his slender fingers was… wrong, somehow.

And that answered your question.

“I’m having trouble sleeping,” you told him, continuing the mimicry of friendship you had apparently adopted in the early morning.

“I confess myself surprised,” Jareth replied. His voice was exactly as smooth and cool as you had remembered it being. “I would have thought you would be weary from the effort of avoiding me.”

“You mean the occasional glimpses of you on the other side of the street or disappearing around the corner of a hallway at my work?” You snorted. “Hardly takes effort to ignore that.”

It didn’t sound as derisive as you meant it to, even with the snort. To distract yourself from how not-rude you had sounded, you continued on.

“I keep dreaming about the labyrinth.”

Jareth took a sip from the cup he held. It smelled delicious, but you refused to ask what it was. Not only was he unlikely to answer, but he also may offer you some. Something warned that you wouldn’t be able to decline, and then you would be caught.

“That does happen.”

It was a non-answer - not particularly surprising from Jareth, but definitely frustrating. You shifted slightly and Jareth glanced over. He had been studying you every time he believed you weren’t looking, which was also frustrating. It made thinking difficult.

“I need you to make it not happen anymore,” you said eventually. “I can’t keep functioning like this.”

Jareth set the cup down on the table in favor of folding his hands on the cold metal surface. His expression shifted to something sympathetic, but tainted somehow. It was the facial expression equivalent of poisoned chocolate. “If I could…”

“Could you?” you asked, skepticism heavy in your voice. Maybe it was uncalled for… but if you were to guess from the mischief glittering in his mismatched eyes, you doubted it. “Would you?”

“No.”

It was a simple answer, but you didn’t give him credit for it. He didn’t have much choice in answering a direct question, especially since he couldn’t lie.

“And why can’t you?” you asked. “You control the labyrinth and everything in it.”

“Mmm… Not precisely.” His attention shifted back to the sidewalk, where people dressed for the work day were beginning to pass regularly. The ones who noticed you and Jareth seemed bewildered at your presence outside, but you ignored them.

“Explain.”

“Ordering me about, pet?” Jareth smiled and his teeth looked far, far too sharp for comfort.

“Please.” It came far too late and through gritted teeth, but Jareth gave a slight incline of his head.

“I am the ruler of my land, which includes the labyrinth surrounding my castle. But it has a mind of its own and is not strictly my subject.” Jareth tipped his head back and peered upward. The light pollution of the city tinged the sky with rusty orange and obscured the clouds, but it was almost as if he could trace the constellations anyway. For all you knew, maybe he could. “The labyrinth and I share a bond. It fulfills my desires. I believe it is trying to bring us together because of that desire.”

“Then stop desiring me,” you bit out.

He rolled his head toward you, eyes bright and a grin stretching his mouth wide. “I could never.”

You gave a frustrated huff. “When will it stop?”

“When you are mine.” You couldn’t tell exactly what expression overtook your face at that, but it was clearly unpleasant. Jareth barked out a laugh, but offered an explanation anyway. “At the moment, the labyrinth calls you toward it when you are asleep, when your defenses down. But every time you see yourself there, its grip on you grows stronger. Eventually, it will bring you there during your waking hours. And then, you will never leave.”

“How?” you asked, voice soft with horror. “You have no power over me.”

“No,” he agreed. His voice was equally soft, but lacking all horror. “Have you not wondered why I’ve kept my distance? Your independence from me would have helped you resist the labyrinth as well.”

“That’s a technicality at best,” you hissed.

“My little champion…” The Goblin King’s eyes were soft, filled with a terrifying mixture of pity and mercilessness. “Did you really think you could leave the fae world and never be impacted by the time you spent there? Once you have been touched by the labyrinth, a normal human life is impossible.”

Processing that was nearly impossible and, when you did speak, your voice was hoarse. “But… I won…”

“Winning is never the end of the story - only a sign that you have been marked for bigger things.”

“Bigger things,” you repeated. “Like being pulled into the labyrinth in my dreams until I end up trapped there.”

Jareth inclined his head in acknowledgement of that. “It is too late to fight it. Perhaps it always has been. You will continue to fall further and further into our control until we have you, the labyrinth and I.”

“And if I destroy the labyrinth?”

Your question made Jareth smile. “If it allowed you to do such a thing, I would die with it. Among other things.”

That didn’t sound all bad to you, though… “What other things?”

“I believe I have given you enough to occupy your mind,” he said.

“You can’t lie.”

Jareth shook his head, taking another drink. The incredible smell grew stronger around you. “I am not obligated to tell you everything simply because I cannot lie. We must leave some mysteries for later, my little champion.”

That was so ominous that you needed a moment to soak it in. You let your mind escape for a moment, allowing the beauty of the creeping dawn to distract you. Jareth watched the sun rise in silence, seeming utterly content at your side. As the night turned to day around you both, a customer moved as if to join you on the patio, but seemed to think better of it.

Even the threat of an interruption was enough to bring you to your senses. Time was short. You glanced over to find Jareth already watching you, too. “So you can’t stop the dreams because they’re being caused by the labyrinth itself.”

“Yes.”

You got to your feet, finishing your drink with a gulp and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. “What a waste of a conversation.”

Jareth seemed unbothered by your ire, if you were to judge from his chuckle.

You paused before you left the patio completely, glaring down at him. “If you can’t stop the dreams, can you at least keep other people out of the labyrinth?”

“There are no others in the labyrinth at the moment,” Jareth told you, head tipped back as he watched a bird flit past overhead. “I should know.”

“People, horses…” You waved a hand at him. “Whatever. Just keep them out.”

Abruptly, you seemed to be staring at a statue. Jareth had frozen, his mouth the only thing moving. “Horses.”

“...Yeah.” The intensity of his look was almost too much to bear. It almost felt like those mismatched eyes were going to strip the skin from your skull. “I think the noise is what woke me up. The shoes, you know?”

“The shoes.” Jareth tilted his head slowly. It put you in mind of a snake hypnotizing its prey. “Did this horse have a rider?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you’re the one who said there was no one else in the labyrinth, so I guess not,” you reminded him, frowning. “Listen, I have to-”

Jareth was on his feet before you registered him moving. You reeled back, only to be caught in his grip. His fingers had latched onto your shoulders, clutching so tightly that you could only hope to escape with mere bruises.

“Was there a rider?”

The demand was loud, especially coming from so close. You blinked, already shaking your head. “I’m not sure! I only caught a look at it. It just looked… big. There may have been someone on its back, but I was too busy running to pay much attention.”

“Big.” You nodded and Jareth released you. “I will return directly.”

It wasn’t that your vision blurred or faded. It was like you felt a sudden and intense need to look anywhere else. When you gathered yourself enough to look back at Jareth, he was gone.

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Author's Note - A long-awaited update! Thank you for your patience, and to everyone who left kind words on the first two parts. You can expect another (spicy) part tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2024 #labyrinth #jareth the goblin king #jareth #jareth x reader #jareth x you #fem!reader #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fic #not suitable for minors #minors dni

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rose-and-thorn-fanfics · 1 year

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“We’re Choosing The Path Between The Stars…” (Jareth x Fem! Reader) Fanfic Part 2

“What could I possibly wear to a masquerade? I’d hate to be dressed too plainly,” Y/n wondered out loud.

Jareth laughed. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I have an entire chamber filled with the finest garments for occasions like this.” He stood up, offering her his arm and gently guiding her down a long candlelit hall riddled with puzzling and abrupt turns. “Here we are.” He said, ushering her inside a circular chamber decorated much more extravagantly than the basic stone halls he had led Y/n through. Y/n let out a quick gasp, eyes sparkling with joy as she beheld the gowns with big sweeping skirts and bejeweled bodices, and suits with shining sequins and silk cravats. She let go of Jareth’s arm, rushing towards one of the gowns and picking it up, holding it to her chest and twirling around the room.

Jareth tilted his head to the side, observing with a good deal of amusement as Y/n stood in front of a mirror, comparing the colors of the different dresses against herself. He had never seen such a lively girl as the one before him. She seemed completely different from the girl he had found beaten and bruised in her bedroom just a few hours ago. Jareth made a mental note to be careful. It was important he maintained his regal countenance. This girl was dangerously close to melting his cold heart.

“Which one should I wear?” Y/n asked, gesturing to several different dresses. “I like the one with these dramatic sleeves, but the fabric on this one is exceptional, and oh! This one has such detailed embroidery, I think it would highlight my waist nicely.”

Jareth smirked, wearing a a mask of smug indifference. “Surprise me.” He said.

Y/n feigned pouting, slightly annoyed he didn’t contribute any opinions. “Fine by me. I’m going to change now, so you should probably leave.” She said, picking up another gown. When she looked back up Jareth was gone. Y/n paused, staring at the empty doorway for a bit, then closing the door and trying on the dark burgundy dress with the red garnets. As se looked in the mirror, she smiled. But her smile faded as a thought occurred to her. ‘What was the true motive behind the dashing and powerful goblin king saving her from her abusive parents? If Y/n remembered correctly (from the fantasy fiction novel called Labyrinth) Jareth was a master of lies and manipulation. He was as deceitful and treacherous as he was beautiful. She frowned, shaking her head. ‘Whatever his intentions are… anything is better than returning to my wretched life at home. I was so lonely before. No one in the world cared about me. At least for now I have someone who looks at me without hatred and disappointment, even if Jareth’s interest in me is only a fickle whim of fancy.” Y/n tried on a few more dresses before deciding on the one that looked most magical on her form.

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Y/n wandered the halls, following the sound of the music she heard in the distance. Soon enough she arrived in front of wrought iron and glass double-doors that emitted a soft, dreamy glow. She entered, her heels that she had found in the other chamber clicking softly on the white marble tile with silvery veins running through it. She gaped in awe, unsure of where to look. Tables draped in pearly satin were piled with delicacies, and diamonds hung overhead from ghostly chandeliers as masked dancers spun gracefully around Y/n. The music was hauntingly beautiful, like a music box playing the notes of a love song long forgotten. The walls were mirrors, reflecting the light of the candles in a dizzying spectacle. Y/n realized she wasn’t wearing a mask, and a few of the dancers stared at her with curiosity. She weaved through the crowd, searching for Jareth. Something seemed off about the other guests at the masquerade. She shivered as she passed two women laughing heartily at a man with a particularly odd mask.

Jareth watched Y/n from a distance. She was so angelic. The dress she had chosen enhanced her beauty in ever way without taking away from her natural radiance. Her bruises were almost unnoticeable with the wa her hair fell on her shoulders and brushed her cheeks. He wondered if such an angel would ever fall for a devil like him. The thought triggered a feeling inside him that Jareth could not explain. The last time he had felt that way…. He grinned, suppressing any doubts and striding towards Y/n.

Y/n was growing more and more alarmed with the way the other guests were watching her and snickering. Finally, she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Is something the matter, darling?”

“Jareth?” Y/n said spinning around to face the goblin king. She sighed with relief upon seeing him. “You look-“ Her voice cut off. She searched for words, but felt overwhelmed by how handsome the king was.

He chuckled, aware there wouldn’t be a word to finish that sentence. “Shall we dance?” He offered, gesturing to the dance floor. Y/n blushed and nodded. Jareth took her into his arms, carefully leading her through the steps of a waltz. There was an unmistakable electricity between them, and while Y/n had never considered herself to be much of a talented dancer, Jareth made the movements seemingly effortless for both of them.

On their second dance, Y/n finally built up the courage to ask him the question that had been bothering her. “So…” She said, meeting the goblin king’s gaze. “Why did you save me? And why are the other… dancers staring at us like that? They seem to be mocking us, or at least, mocking me.”

Jareth sighed, as if he had been expecting that question. “Would you really like to know? Sometimes ignorance is bliss, Y/n.”

“I really want to know.” Y/n insisted.

The goblin king frowned, displeased by this answer. He led her off to the side of the dance floor and onto a balcony that overlooked a seemingly endless starry night. When he was sure they were alone, just the two of them, he began. “Those dancers are… were… the High Court of this kingdom, under my rule. Surely you didn’t think a man of my status would only rule over mindless goblins, did you?”

Y/n was silent, curious and concerned at where this conversation was going.

Jareth continued. “I also… had a queen. That was many years ago.” His face was expressionless but the pain shone in his eyes. “The High Court hated her. They conspired against her and killed her while I was away. And when I returned…” Jareth turned to Y/n laughing bitterly. “I killed them all in my rage, trapping their ghosts in an eternal masquerade. It was easy enough, as they were no match for my magic. Suitable, too. Their falsehood and facades mirrored in the masks they can never go without. He grinned, slightly crazed by the memory.

Y/n stood, watching Jareth in shock, before she said simply, “A poet once said… ‘tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway’.” She placed her hand in Jareth’s as she looked out over the balcony at the glittering midnight abyss below.

Jareth entwined his fingers around her’s, staring out with her at the night sky.

“So why am I here?” Y/n whispered gently.

The goblin king turned, leaning towards her and initiating a passionate kiss that stole Y/n’s breath away. When their embrace parted, he brushed her hair behind her ear. And cupped his hands around her face. “You’re here because you deserve the world. And I can give that to you. Would you be my new queen?”

“I…” Y/n felt her heart skip a beat. “If you promise to love me… If you promise to never hurt me… then yes. I would love to be your queen. I’d love to be your anything… I’d love to be your everything.”

Jareth pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “I promise.”

The End!

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