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girl8890 · 2 years

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JK | Hieros Gamos (III - Final)

BTS ML | Mood Board

Summary: Falling in love with your soulmate was the easy part. The hard part is finding out what you have to do to complete that soul bonding rite, especially when he’s the one that’s left to tell you the truth.

Paring: God!Thanatos!Jungkook x Goddess!Reader

Genre: greek gods!au, soulmates!au, smut, angst, some fluff

Rating: 18+

Warnings: secrets reveled, horror stories, full fates casting, unwanted reading of the mind, jealousy, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (f), fingering, completion of sacred marriage, family arguments, virgin!reader, big time skip, jk is such a gentlemen and in loveeee~

A/N: You know how I tag the genre as some fluff? Well, this where that fluff comes in. I just love making jk in love with reader, and out of all times for that fluffy cuteness to come, now is the time! Hope you are all ready for this long ass chapter, enjoy! 🖤

Part I | Part II

。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。

You wake upon the softest surface you have ever slept on. Feeling a fabric similar to silk under your fingertips, and you smile as you smell the scent of pomegranate clog your nose. The pigment oder making you wonder how close the fruit might be to you in this moment.

Your smile slowly drifts away once that smell registers in your brain completely. There’s no pomegranates in the cave. There’s no plants that aren’t in Elysium or at least sacrificed to the gods that ever come near the underworld.

That’s when you remember everything that happened yesterday… how you left the cave, got attacked by souls, were saved by being flown away in the air, finding out who your best friend truly is, how you and your best friend… you did…

Your cheeks heat up thinking about what Jungkook did with you yesterday, digging your face further into the pillow. Pillow? You blink a few times against it, then push yourself up to see just what and where you fell asleep. You look around the room, and find yourself in a strangers room. There’s no one there, but you’ve never been there before to know who’s room you were in.

The sheets your on are gray, and the blanket and pillows are sheeted in black. The walls around you are colored in a deep cream, with sketches of what looks like a war carved in all over. You turn to your left to see an opened up balcony, and you realize then that must be how you smelt pomegranate before, but that could only happen if your in… if your close to…

You gasp when you realize where you are. You must be in Hades and Persephone’s home. You know the story of how Persephone ate six pomegranate seeds to stay with her husband for half a year, rendering Demeter, her mother, pleads useless to get her away from the unseen one. Unlike most gods and mortals alike, Jungkook told you the story in truth. Meaning there was no rumors to cloud what really happened to the couple, as in: they were in love.

You wonder how you didn’t think he was involved with the story, at the time. But looking back he talked about it like he was involved. So many gods, especially those that reside in the underworld, were involved with Persephone, Hades, and Demeter dispute. It only coming right a close when Persephone ate the pomegranate seeds and now she goes to the over world six month out of the year (for spring and summer), and then stays with her husband for the other six (fall and winter).

You feel a small smile twitch the corners of your mouth upward at the reminder of the last night you saw the queen of the underworld. It was close to a decade now since you last saw her, and she didn’t even know you were there at the time, but you knew she was kind by the way she presented herself.

Persephone came to the fates to ask if her and Aidoneus - Hades - would ever have children. Although the fates casting was not clear, they told her she would have three. You always wondered if she ever did have the children she wished for.

You sigh, thinking about the queen, then you continue to look around the room you woke up in. It’s dark, but overall normal looking. Nothing to make you think it’s a room of someone who cared about there room more then just somewhere to sleep.

Just as you’re about to wonder about it’s owner, you see the case over the bed. One that looks like it hasn’t been used in a long time, but the outline of the sickle that once laid in it makes it clears who’s room this is.

This is Jungkook’s room, and your in the god of death’s bed.

This witch needs to shut the fuck up.

You startle when you hear Jungkook’s voice inside your head, looking around like he would suddenly appear in thin air.

What should I say to her? … The witch isn’t helping.

You raise an eyebrow, wondering how you’re able to hear him in your head right now. It’s then you see the glowing link you saw when you both were… in the cave, stretch out in front of you again. The line leads to somewhere behind the wall, and you put two and two together to understand that Jungkook is behind that wall.

Before yesterday, you never saw such a thing before. You also never heard Jungkook’s thoughts before yesterday - well, you assume it’s the next day - and the thought of his words that were said inside of your head has your heart picking up in speed.

I love you, we’re the words that shock your soul to its very core. It wasn’t your words, just like the ones that flooded your mind before. They were Jungkook’s words… and they were directed towards you.

Maybe not directly, but he thought them and felt them. You bite your bottom lip, fighting back a smile. Even though he still has a lot of explaining to do, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same about your friend. If you can even call him that, anymore. Would after what happened between you two, the intimate moment you shared, make you more now?

Shaking your head, you try to remove the thought. The string connecting you two together fading but still there. Like it’s trying to just not be in the way.

You swallow thickly, looking at your connection that you’ve felt for so long be right there in front of you. You wonder if Jungkook felt it too. How it pulled you two together until your hearts connected. You wonder more what it means. What it all means! And you have a feeling the god of death knows the answers to all your questions.

You close your eyes, trying to concentrate on the god in question. There must be a way you can talk to him back. That not just random thoughts could be exchanged between the two of you. Can Jungkook even hear your thoughts?

You try not to think about it, nervous about what he could have heard, but either way you push. You push your mind to extend to the god that’s filled your mind before you even knew what he looked like.

———

“For a man with wings you tend to fall flat on your face when it comes to women,” Hecate scolds, not liking the situation Jungkook has made for himself and the underworld.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pushing off the wall he was leaning on to tread up to the goddess of witchcraft. “It’s not just any other women, Hecate. It’s her.”

Hecate’s eyes widen slightly for a second before she sobers. Her naturally solum face never changing. “Nonetheless, she’s the daughter of the fates. I much prefer to not have another Demeter epidemic in the underworld.”

“Oh, please! The fates don’t scare you. You just hate that you know about this and the king doesn’t.” Jungkook’s words are true. The king of the underworld does not know about you, or your connection to Jungkook. A secret Jungkook wanted to keep all to himself, but since little miss read everyone’s mind without asking decided to read Jungkook’s mind on a particular day he preferred her not to, she’s now involved.

If Hecate had the patience for Jungkook, she would scoff, but instead she keeps herself neutral. “You know he should know. He should know who sleeps in his domain, and if what that hollow of a brain of yours is speaking the truth, she will be here for quite awhile.”

Jungkook’s eye twitch’s, hating that Hecate not only read his mind during a moment he was lost thinking of you - to be specific the you from yesterday - but that she decided to judge. Why are all the goddess that swore their maidenhood as off limits to all so judgmental?

“Because unlike you, Jungkook, us ladies can keep our pants on,” Hecate replies to Jungkook’s thoughts.

He breathes through his teeth, readying himself to fire some hate back at her, but before he could he hears your words loud and clear in his head.

I’m awake.

It was only two words, but enough to have Jungkook’s mind racing with all things you. Well, his mind is always racing with all things you, but after what you two shared yesterday has his brain running imagine after imagine of your face like a movie.

Jungkook looks towards the door of his room, the one your just beyond. He turns away from Hecate, not wanting to speak to the witch anymore, but she stops him just before he leaves the conversation completely.

“You must tell him eventually. The king and the fates deserve to know that’s she’s here.”

Jungkook sighs, feeling his body deflate at knowing Hecate is right. “I know, and I’ll tell them. Can you just… give me some time?”

Hecate purses her lips, looking at the god that’s older then her like a child. But, she’s relentlessly. She’s never seen this god so torn between his king and a women before. Before Jungkook swore off women all those eons ago, he would bring her own followers to bed with him without a thought. He at least made sure their maidenhood was already gone before taking them, not that it made it right since they were never able to bear children afterwards (if they were still able to anyway).

The goddess wonders if you were the reason he swore off women. The reason he kept himself away from any willing women - which sadly, there were many - and if so, Hecate is entirely grateful for you.

“Fine, but Jungkook, a little word of advice?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, wanting to leave the witch and get to you as fast as possible. With a annoyed tone, he asks, “What?”

“Don’t do what Aiden did with Persephone. Tell her the truth before you bed her.” With those last word and a swish of her auburn hair, Hecate leaves Jungkook staring after her flabbergasted.

He coughs into his fist, feeling his ears heat up red and he tries to cool them down before he enters the room you’ve been most likely patiently waiting for him in.

He was already planning to tell you the truth when you woke up, whether Hecate gave the advice or not, but now he’s suddenly feeling anxious. There’s not just the rite of completing hieros gamos that he needs to talk to you about, but what it means for the two of you. What will happen to you after you complete it with him. If, you want to complete it with him.

Jungkook looks down at his feet, stalling. You’re such an innocent goddess, and there’s few of them like you. Having to be the one to explain to you what it all means is a scary thought. What if you don’t want him? Or worse, what if after he tells you the truth about what it would do to you if you did it with him you would leave him? Seek another to do it with, even?

His jaw tightens at just the thought of you being with someone else. After seeing how you reacted to him yesterday he doesn’t want anyone else, but him to be the one to stir those feelings in your again.

Over the eons he tried to be good. Never taking another women because he knew you were always there. You may not have known who Jungkook was to you, but you were there nonetheless. Always there to cloud Jungkook’s mind, and he never strayed from his loyal love he silently gifted you. He just never had any jealousy’s to worry about either, so if you were to leave and find someone else…

Jungkook’s fist clenched around his sickle, his weapon of choice gleaming in the light. He tries to think of something else - the positives of if you’re okay with it. Well, the sex for one. Jungkook’s already smirking at the thought. And if you are okay with never being able to have kids and staying with him in the underworld for eternity, then everything will turn out great and his years upon years of waiting for you would have been completely worth it.

Yup positives.

Fuck, this is going to be hard.

Jungkook then realizes something then, as he pushes through the door to his room and finds you on his bed on your knees. Two pretty eyes blinking up at him, and the top of your chest and neck still covered in his love marks he left from yesterday… even if you were to leave, his love would still be completely loyal to you.

You would still be the one to cloud his mind, even if it would be thoughts of you with another. You would still own his heart. He just prefers to be gifted yours as well.

———

“Jungkook!” You beam with a smile as you see him enter the room - well, his room, but lets try to ignore that fact so your face doesn’t decide to heat up at the fact of you being in his bed.

Jungkook once worried expression sobers when he hears you say his name and sees the smile you greet him with. How can a being truly be this perfect? He thinks he would gladly kill anyone for you, but right now he has to try and protect you from himself as he feels the pull of your connection strengthen in that moment.

He had a feeling the hieros gamos connection would one day start pulling you towards each other. He just didn’t predict it would be the first day you saw him in person! And now, even when you were asleep, anytime you two were close to each other the rite begs to be completed. Even as he watches you squirm in your spot, obviously feeling the same tension as him, he tries to be the good boy he’s been around you for decades and walks in the opposite direction of you.

He sits in the chair about five feet away from you, and tries his best to smile though the tension that just laid like a blanket on top of you both. “Hello, Nae sarang. Did you sleep well?”

You pick at the blanket your sitting under and try to ignore the wave of want that coursed through you before. Also ignoring how the connection line connecting Jungkook and you suddenly got brighter by him just entering the room.

“Um- fine, thank you.” You glance at the bed. “I’m guessing this is your bed?”

Jungkook raises a confused eyebrow at you, wondering why you even need to ask. “It is.”

“Oh,” You say through an exhale of air. “Thank you for letting me use it. Although, I don’t quite remember falling asleep in it,” The end of you sentence gets smaller as you speak. Another memory from yesterday flooding your mind on how you passed out after orgasming against the god in front of you.

Your eyes widen, and your cheeks heat up into a rose hue. Jungkook doesn’t need to read your mind to know what just crossed it, and he smirks at the fact that he can still affect you like this even after he has you so intimately wrapped up in his arms yesterday.

“Yes, well, I couldn’t just leave you in the entrance of the underworld. That cave can be dangerous for a goddess like yourself, not to mention is really creepy.”

You shrug your shoulders, feeling thankful for the slight subject change. “I don’t know. I thought that cave was quite beautiful.”

Beautiful.

The memory of the first word that his mind caught of yours crosses Jungkook’s mind. How perfectly fitting it is that you thinking the word beautiful matched your own description perfectly to Jungkook, but it also brings his mind back to what he needs to speak to you about.

Jungkook clears his throat, and scoots forward in his chair. The connection tugs again, but he ignores it. Using his elbows on his knees he leans closer to you. “Y/n, I feel I have some explaining to do.”

Your smiles falls a little - to Jungkook’s dismay - and you nod your head because he does in fact have a lot to explain. “Yes, I think you do.”

Jungkook winces at the harshness of your voice, but he believes he deserves it. Even if he wants to blame he fates on him being untruthful to you, there was never a promise of him not telling you who he was. That was all him. All because he was scared of something you never cared about in the first place.

He still feels dumb about it. Not realizing that your his soulmate and his soulmate wouldn’t care about such stupid, trivial things like the past or rumors.

“I want to start with staying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you who I was or reveling myself to you when I should have.” You go to tell him it’s alright, and that explanation has already been done with, but he interrupts you before you had a chance. “I know your going to tell me it’s fine, but it really isn’t. For me to be untruthful with you over a fear is not right, and you deserve better. For that, I apologize.”

You take each of Jungkook’s words in, processing them and being mature about how you take them. Truthfully, your over that lie, but it does still feel good to hear him apologize about it even now. He had his reasons, and the fact that his reasons were out of fear alone is a little endearing. Especially when that fear was of your rejection.

“All is forgiven,” You say with a closed lip smile.

Jungkook’s corner of his lisp twitch up when he sees you smile again, tapping the sharp part of his sickle against the table in front of him before he completely puts it down. This next part… is going to be the hardest.

“I’m glad you forgive me, and I hope you keep that heart of gold you have when I explain to you why you’ve been stuck in that cave all your life.”

Your eyes widen, and your smile falls. Out of all things for Jungkook to explain, you were not expecting him to be able to answer that burning question of yours. “Y-you know why?” He nods his head. “Tell me! … please.”

Jungkook combs his fingers through his hair, hoping the fates don’t curse him with a terrible future ahead after he tells you this. “You know who your father is, correct?”

You nod your head before voicing the truth. “Yes, it’s Tartarus. That’s actually where I was heading before-“

“You were what?!” Jungkook’s stands up so fast his chair almost falls back behind him. He had a feeling you would be curious about the place, but he didn’t think you would want to go to the worst place in all of existence all alone! “Y/n, Nae sarang, please tell me your not serious.”

You feel smaller now, not expecting Jungkook to get so mad about you going there. You know by the few things the fates talked about that the place was bad, but also the ignorance they bestowed on you not letting you know how bad it actually is.

“It’s the realm of my father. I don’t see-“

“You can’t! I mean- you shouldn’t.” Seeing you suddenly scared sobers Jungkook’s temper a little, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to convince you to never ever go near that place.

His feet move on their own accord, until he’s right in front of you at the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, taking your hands in his and staring deeply into your eyes so he makes sure you hear his every word.

“The fates have told you about Cronus, right?” Your eyes blow out wide at the mention of the Titans name. Although you’ve never met the demon of a god, your blood runs cold out of fear of who he is and what he has done.

In the smallest of voices, you reply, “I have.”

“He’s there. Trapped, yes, but he’s still there, as well as a bunch of other monsters. Not even the king or queen of the cursed lands go there unless they absolutely must go.” Jungkook rubs his thumb across your knuckles, trying to sooth you from this horror of a story he’s about to tell you. “He also maybe trapped, but if he somehow gets into your mind… I-if he can get into your thoughts a-and me show you things…”

Jungkook’s stops there, suddenly overheating at just the thought of Cronus getting into your mind the way he has others. Few have ever ventured there and returned, but those who have - especially women - never return the same once Cronus has filled there minds with such terrible imaginations that feel too teal to be what they actually are.

“Hey- hey- hey,” You say as you let go of Jungkook’s hands and put your hands on top of his shoulders. You don’t know what’s going through his mind right now, but by the way he’s shaking at just the thought of you going there, and his warnings he’s giving you are all because he cares about you. He cares about you enough that he’s telling you the truth about the monstrous place and not spearing any detains. Something not many people have given you the gift of respecting your old enough to know. “Okay, Jungkook, I won’t go. I’m sorry I even thought about it.”

Jungkook breathes through his nose, trying to control himself before he flies to Tartarus himself and stabs Cronus with his sickle a bunch of times for something he hasn’t even done - even though he deserves a few stabbings for everything else he’s done.

“Don’t apologize, Y/n. I know you were just being curious, and it is your father that realm consists of, after all.”

You nod your head a singular time in understanding, and now your wondering how this even got brought up in the first place. “Why did you bring up my father, again?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a second, and then he rocks back and forth on his spot on the floor. Because of the shock and fright you just gave him, he completely forgot what he was about to tell you for a moment.

“Right, yes, Um… so your father. He is the realm itself of Tartarus, but he didn’t bestow your mother the gift of pregnancy for no reason. The fates and I believe that you were given a power like no other.”

Your shocked by what Jungkook is saying, but somehow out of everything he just said only one thing sticks out the most. “When did you and my family talk?”

Fuck.

“Never mind that now, I’ll be explaining that soon. But, have you by any chance felt… different since you left the cave? Any new abilities, I mean.”

You look down at the string of connection connecting you and Jungkook, then look back up at him. “Well, yes. I never saw this string before.”

You point at the connection you two have like he can somehow see it. Jungkook looks down at where you’re pointing, and all he sees is the bumps in the blanket of where your legs are underneath. “What string?”

“The one connecting us together.” Jungkook’s eyes widen, and his breathe catches. “It’s been there since yesterday, and I never saw it before. What do you think it could be?”

Jungkook has a feeling he knows what it is, he just wasn’t expecting you would be able to literally see it. Of course, out of all abilities for you to have you had to have the one where you can see - and most likely manipulate - hieros gamos connections.

Well, he was going to have to explain it to you sooner or later. Might as well be the latter.

“What do you know about the rite of hieros gamos?”

———

After Jungkook tells you all about hieros gamos, your looking at him with brand new eyes now. It all makes so much more sense! Why he’s always been there, why you always felt a pull to him, and how your feelings for him are so strong even after he’s kept such big secrets from you.

But even after he’s explained all of this, it seems like what you have should be impossible! You two never had sex. You would very much remember doing that with him, and what you two did yesterday doesn’t count for the rite. On top of that, you can legit see the connection, so it’s not like he’s lying to you.

“S-so I can see the hieros gamos connection.” Jungkook nods his head. “And we have that connection, but it’s not complete?” He nods his head again. You feel the blush on your face brighten, realizing what he’s silently suggesting from you. “And you want to complete it w-with me?”

Jungkook eyes widen ever so slightly, and he looks away from you out of embarrassment. The simple answer to that question is FUCK YES, but because Jungkook is a gentleman so he says instead, “I won’t force you into anything, Y/n. This is a lot to take in so I understand if you need some time. I’ve waited this long for you and I’ll gladly wait another decade or two for you, Nae sarang.”

You look at Jungkook with stars in your eyes, feeling your heart grow a little bigger for the god in front of you. How can someone lay upon you so much pressure, but make you feel so much love at the same time?

Gods! You need to have confidence in this. He’s waited so long for you, and, in a way, you’ve waited a long time too for this. Maybe he was captivated by you from the second you were born, but you loved him even before you knew what he looked like!

Your his Nae sarang, whatever that means. You look back at Jungkook, realizing out of all your life changing questions the smallest of them all has not been answered yet. Except, you won’t realize how big that question is until he answers.

You blink up at him, clenching the skirt of your dress between your fingers as your stomach builds with nerves. “Um… Jungkook… what does Nae sarang mean?”

Jungkook looks at you fondly, thinking back about when he first started called you that endearment. He knew you never knew what it meant, but you also never asked. It was his own way of admitting his feelings to you without you even knowing. Without him defying the fates that he promised he would be patient with you.

“It means, my love,” A quiet gasp escapes your mouth as you hear his confession. Jungkook caresses your cheek with one hand, and gently grabs a hold of your other hand in your lap. He can’t help but want to touch you as he retells the story about how he knew he loved you outside of the connection you two shared.

“When I first realized who you were to me, I wanted nothing to do with you. My life was just fine without adding love to it, and you were just an infant, so I thought these overwhelming emotions would go away eventually. I’ve seen many gods and goddess lose their hieros gamos bond with each other over the years, so I thought if I just stayed away from you, we would eventually lose it too…”

Although his words right now are cracking your heart right down the middle - unable to fathom a life without Jungkook now - it’s crazy to you to think this all started once you were born with him. You stay silent as he continues to tell you the tail about how he fell in love with you.

“But it never went away… it got bigger and bigger, until I just stopped trying to stop it. Once you turned 16 and the combination of our worlds bloomed my whole body ached to be near you. I just-… I couldn’t stay away from you after that.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, not understanding a part of his story. “What combination of our worlds?”

Jungkook continues to look at you with a small smile, absolutely loving retelling you all the moments he cherishes so much with you. “The tree at the back of the fates caves. It didn’t just grow there for no reason. It grew there when you were able to-“ He cut himself short, not wanting you to think you hitting maturity was the reason he came into your life. “The tree grew there and it - in a way - beamed me to you. It was-… honestly, it felt like it hurt to even be away from you.”

Your eyes widen for a second at thinking Jungkook was in pain. “Hurt you? That doesn’t sound romantic at all!”

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing your cheek with his thumb when you don’t understand what he’s trying to say.

“No, Y/n. I don’t mean physically. I mean right here.” He then picks up your hand in your lap, and places it on his rapid beating heart. A part of him he truly believes will only come alive when you’re around.

You feel Jungkook’s heart beat under your palm, and looking into his eyes that haven’t once swept away the fondness he has for you. Although, now that you think about it, fondness is too small of a word to describe what he’s really feeling towards you. What he’s always felt towards you.

“You really love me, don’t you?”

Jungkook has thought of a million scenarios of how he would one day tell you he loved you, but out of all them he never expected it to be this way. With you sitting in his bed, after you ran away from the fates, and asking him a question you already should know the answer to.

But this scenario ended up being the best of all because of what comes next.

“I’ve loved you longer then I knew what the word really meant.”

It takes five seconds for Jungkook’s words to be processed for you, but once they do you know your answer to what you’ve been wondering about yourself since before you can remember.

You’re Y/n, daughter of the fates, father of Tartarus, goddess of connections… And wife of Jungkook. The god death.

You just need to go through one more glorious trial before you can claim that last title completely. And your happy to make the first move this time.

You grab onto the sides of Jungkook’s face, and smash your lips against his. He automatically recuperates the kiss, and next thing you know he’s crawling on top of you onto the bed. Using his arms to support him next to your head. He cages you in his arms, and the way his lips feel against yours has your stomach doing flips. The feeling of both of you together like this already addicting.

Unlike yesterday, this kiss was all on the both of you. There wasn’t some force pulling you two together, just the increasing amount of love that did it. And you do love him.

“I love you too,” You say against Jungkook’s lips, making him gasp into your mouth. He pulls away from you but only about an inch away. Looking into his eyes now, all you can see is yourself reflecting back at you. If this was an alternative universe, then there would be cartoon hearts in both of your eyes.

“Fuck, do you really?” Jungkook asks like a five year old kid instead of a deathless and ageless god.

You smile up at him, rubbing both of his cheeks with your thumbs and reveling at the goosebumps that follow. “Yes. Yes, I always have-“

Jungkook interrupts your confession with another searing kiss, and your everything but upset about it. You whimper as his tongue dances across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. It’s when he grinds down on you, his growing erection rubbing against your core, that you gasp into his mouth and his tongue attacks your own.

To Jungkook you taste like honey and rose water. Two tastes he never thought he would love so much. To yourself he tastes like passion and affection. Two things you never knew had a taste and it’s dizzying you.

As your tongues dance in each other mouths, you feel his hands start to explore you. Your hands stay clamped on his shoulders, but you already feel yourself arching as his fingers dance across your skin. Your arms, your sides, your legs. They go everywhere.

“Fuck, your so beautiful, Y/n,” Jungkook says against your lips, making you swoon with affection. “Please let me keep you forever.”

Just when he’s about to explore the places you want him to explore the most, that he suddenly stalls, and backs away from you entirely. You look at him, and unlike what you thought you would see - a face of worry - you instead see something far worse.

A face of a terrible realization. How could Jungkook forget? It was one of his most frequented worries, but the second your lips pressed against his he forgot everything. And now all that was about to happen, him finally being able to have you in his arms the way he craves the most, may never happen because of something he can’t control.

“I need to tell you something…”

Your blink up at him, feeling whiplashed. You silently nod your head, suddenly feeling anxiety bloom within you. You back up in the bed when Jungkook starts to crawl back on it. Both of you sitting across from each other. Jungkook makes the silence stretch way to long, and seeing his hands shake isn’t like him. Granted, you’ve only been able to actually see him for two days, but he’s not an antsy person. Always cool and collected, unlike right now.

You can’t take it anymore. You grab onto his hands, gently rubbing his knuckles with both of your thumbs. “Jungkook…what’s wrong? What do you have to tell me?”

Jungkook looks into his lap, only glancing at your joined hands in the middle, but feeling like he needs to hold onto them for dear life - afraid you’ll run away if he doesn’t.

“What do you know about me, Y/n? I mean… the god of death and my abilities?”

Your eyes widen for a second, not expecting the question. “I know your the reaper of souls. That a single touch from you can kill any being if you want to.”

He nods his head, still not looking at you. “That’s correct. Anything else?”

You dig into your memories, trying to find the stories the fates gave you about the god of death and his abilities. Once it clicks in your head whats he’s worrying about, you tighten your grip on his hands and a small smile blooms on your face.

“I don’t want children,” You blurt out.

Jungkook whips his head up at you, eyes wide. “Y-you- wait, what?”

You giggle, feeling lighter now that you understand why he became so worried before. “I said, I don’t want children. I never have, and never will. Was that your worry?”

Jungkook’s eyes don’t shrink back to normal, and now his jaw has dropped. He’s never asked you about if you wanted children, but he also wasn’t expecting that to be your answer to his unspoken confession.

All women who lye with death are rendered infertile, that’s why he also never slept with virgins. They don’t know what they want, especially at such a young age. All his past conquests being mostly newly born nymphs or praisers of Hecate who were already half dead and not able to have children anyway.

He sighs, “But how do you know that?”

You raise a pointed eyebrow at him. “Come again?”

“How do you know you’ll never want children?”

And now it’s your turn to sigh. You just never did. You were treated like a child for the majority of your life, so having your own wasn’t ideal for you. Not to mention you have very little experience with children in the first place. Not many mortals under the age of 18 coming to the fates to request a new path. That, and, you feel like your life has just started. Even if you’ve been alive for decades, until yesterday you’ve never been truly free. Children are the last thing on your bucket list right now, and if for some reason you want kids in your future you could always just look over at Jungkook and think; he was worth not having any for.

You explain every single one of your thoughts to him, and you don’t miss how he slowly gets closer to you as you speak - invading your personal space (which, lets be honest here, you don’t care).

“Are you sure?” He whispers so close to your face that you feel his breathe fan. The smell of mint clinging to your sense of smell “There’s no turning back once it’s done.”

You still see the worry in his brow, and you lift your hand to wipe it away. “Hundred million percent.”

Then Jungkook couldn’t take it anymore. He smashes your lips back together, and the whole conversation is lost behind you. There’s no more worries once he has you in his arms, and the whimpers start pouring from your mouth into his. Stirring him on to start up right where you both left left off - to touch you everywhere he can get his hands on.

When you feel him cup your breasts in both hands is when that feeling from yesterday starts to bloom inside of you. You open your mouth wide into a moan, and he kisses your bottom lip as you do. His lips kiss down your jaw until they stop at your neck, attacking the surface there.

Sucking, biting, licking, and kissing is what you feel. All the while he continues to give both your breasts affectionate squeezes.

“Tell me, Y/n,” Jungkook says against you neck. All you’re able to reply with is a quite hum, unable to say anything while your mind is slowly getting fuzzy to everything else besides his hands and lips. “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

He squeezes one of your breasts again, his other hand dragging down your body until it reaches your hip. You arch your back and whimper when he licks a particular strip up a sweet spot of yours on your neck.

“Y-yes,” You reply with tightly closed eyes.

Jungkook then detaches from your neck, looking down at his fucked out goddess that’s only gotten this way from a few kisses and caresses from him.

He’s taught girls that thought they knew there way around pleasure, but your different then them. For one, the obvious reason, he’s in love with you. Not a single girl from the past has ever made his heart beat so fast in this moment that it feels like it’s about to explode out of his chest. Secondly, your intact. A virgin, untouched and know nothing about the art of love making. Your a blank canvas to Jungkook, so he needs to tread lightly about how he treats and talks to you.

Jungkook’s kisses you lightly on the lips, and whispers against them, “What did you think about while you did?” Your face heats up at his question, and Jungkook’s smirk only raises. “Who did you think about? Who did you imagine touching your body like this?”

As you go through a mental overload of things to respond with, Jungkook begins his descent down your body - kisses ever part of you clothed and unclothed.

“Y-you trying to get me to say you?” You say as he begins to kiss your clothed hip bones. The two bones jutting out while you have your legs half way bent with his head in between them.

Jungkook chuckles against your hip, and then nuzzles your abdomen. “Oh, Nae sarang… I know I’m the one you imagine.” You gasp at his cheekiness. “I just want to hear you say it.”

With a couple more pushes of his body downward, he gets to your thighs. The slowest of kisses get pressed to the inner part of each of your thighs, and you can’t help yourself but whimper as you watch. One particular breathe of his as he switches over between legs has your now soaking pussy clenching on nothing and it’s driving you crazy.

Jungkook bites his lip as he glances in between your legs, wanting to see and taste your pussy so badly, but he doesn’t stop the slow pressing of his lips on each thigh. He’s become a very patient god over these past centuries because of you, so he’ll gladly wait another just to hear you say it. Although, the intoxicating smell of what’s hiding under your dress that’s so close to his face right now may have him swindled to push forward anyway.

He never finds out if that would be true, though, because after a few heated silent moments you’re nodding your head and admitting, “I… I think of you… I would hear your voice in my head and imagine you talking to me as I did it.”

Jungkook’s smiles against your thigh, feeling his ego grow times ten, but he’d be lying if he said his cock didn’t just jump in his pants because of your words.

“Such a naughty girl,” Jungkook’s teases, making your rose colored blush stretch down to your neck. He then looks down at his next destination, and swallows thickly. He rubs his face against your thigh, suddenly nervous about something he’s hasn’t done in a long time. He knows he’ll enjoy the taste of you, he’s enjoyed ever other taste of you thus far, but having something he’s only seen in his wildest of dreams that’s only a dress flip away is a new experience.

“Gods help me,” Jungkook whispers to himself. You don’t hear him, but by the way he’s staring at what’s between your legs is making you sweat. So you decide to be a little daring. Wanting to show him your not as innocent as the fates make you out to be.

Jungkook’s eyes move away from your center when he sees your fists start to bunch you your skirt, slowly moving the garment up your thighs. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion in front of him as you slowly reveal your barely covered, soaked through the cloth, wet pussy.

Jungkook’s mouth runs dry when he sees your womanhood for the first time. It’s only covered by a practically see through garment, but it’s there. His eyes darken as he looks you over for the first time.

Your essence is leaking to your thigh, and every time you move your leg it sticks to the opposite surface. The smell of just how aroused you are hits his nose, making him have to hold back a moan. He feels his tongue jut out, and he plays it off as him just wetting his lips although he just really wants to taste you.

With an experimental finger, Jungkook drags his finger down your clothed core. He feels the soaked cloth become sticky to his skin, and then he’s pulling his finger away at the sound of a whimper. He looks back up at you, and the sight is breath taking.

One. Fucking. Finger.

All it took was one touch of his finger to have you close to tears and breathing like you ran out of air. If this is how you act by just one touch of his fingers, he wonders how you’ll act when he finally goes down on you. And Jungkook can’t wait anymore.

With the wettest and longest strip of his tongue, he moves the barer cloth away and licks up your pussy. You arch your back and scream his name into the quiet room, “Jungkook!”

It’s music to his ears, and he wants more of it. He licks every single one of your crevices, and smells your aroma fog his senses as he does. At some point the barer cloth gets in his way, so he pulls it clean off your body altogether, making you jump in your spot on the bed. You don’t get much time to process his action, though, because then his face dives right back between your thighs.

“So good. I knew you would taste so good,” He says without taking his face off of you. You arch your back when he speaks against you pussy, moaning a particularly high moan you’ve never done before.

You cup your hands together, and cover your mouth as his decent on your pussy starts making the most lewd noises comes out of you. Jungkook is to busy at the moment to notice, but soon he’ll layer his tournament with his fingers in your slit. Sucking on your clit while his fingers rub at your wet folds. He probes a finger gently inside of you, reveling at how tight it is for just his finger.

He starts to wonder how he’s going to fit in you, but then he hears a very clear and loud muffled moan, and looks back at you. He sees your hands covering your mouth, and two blood shot eyes looking down at him near your fingers.

He freezes everything. For a second he thinks he went to far. For a second his heart was ready to rip apart at the thought of him hurting you, but then you uncover your mouth and ask him in the most sexiest breathless voice he’s ever heard before, “W-why’d you stop?”

Jungkook shakes his head, his worst nightmare fading from his mind as he takes in your appearance now. Your eyes aren’t blood shot out of tears of sorrow but out of tears of pleasure. And your covering your mouth because… your embarrassed.

No. Jungkook won’t allow any of that.

He takes his hands that were once busy on your pussy and thigh, and pulls them away from your face to hold them near your waist. Your starting at him wide eyed, not understanding why he would do such a thing.

Why? He hears in his head from you.

And he answers back with, “Because I want to hear you.”

Then he’s diving back in, using his hold on your wrists now to push you deeper onto his face. The second his tongue touches you again, licking inside your hole like it’s trying to dig for a diamond, you arch your back to the heavens and cry out so many profanities you don’t know how the rest of the underworld can’t hear you.

“J-J-Jungkook… God! Fuck! … I feel like I’m dying.”

He chuckles against your pussy, and your to blissed out to notice what little correlation you just made with your words and him.

He pulls his face away from you, your essence dripping off his chin, but then he’s letting go of one of your wrists so his finger can then start to play with you again. You hum as his rough fingers start to rub you in all the right places.

“No dying yet, Nae sarang.” You blink down at him, way too dizzy in the head to understand a world he’s saying. “Deaths currently off duty.”

Those are his last words he gives you before you feel like you’re actually dying. His tongue returns to sucking on your clit at the same time his finger enters you, and it overheats your entire body. Forget seeing stars, you see fucking galaxies by the way his fingers are rubbing your insides. He’s finding spots inside of you you’ve never found before, and licking at all your crevices you never thought would feel good.

With more more press to a sweet spot, and sucking of your clit, within seconds of him your cumming harder then you ever have in your life! You swear there was even a few seconds you blacked out after that. Only his name on your lips as you cum on his face is echoing back to you in your head.

By the time you come to planet earth, you look down to see Jungkook lewdly licking at his fingers and lips. He revels in the taste of you, and can’t help but jut against the mattress. He’s so hard right now it feels like he’s close to pain, but he won’t be in pain for long.

“How was that my little goddess?“Jungkook asks with a knowing smirk.

“T-that was… t-that was wow.” This is now the second time Jungkook has run you speechless by orgasms, and you feel your entire body shutter when you imagine what it might feel like when he actually enters you.

You’ve heard through many sad tails from women that have visited the fates that not all sex experiences are pleasurable for women. Sometimes it hurts, especially your first time. But then you remember the few women that have actually gone to the fates for love, and you think there’s no way they would go there if they didn’t love their husbands.

You love Jungkook, and he loves you. More importantly, for your worries right now, you trust him to never hurt you.

The even slightest bit of worries wash away, though - when Jungkook sits up, and removes his shirt. Your jaw drops, and shit it immediately closes once you realize how embarrassing that is. You knew he was fit, you felt it yesterday and today while he was on top of you how hard his body is against yours (not including the obvious part of him in his pants right now). But what you see now makes the words cut like a god seem like a understatement.

In few words… Jungkook is fine as fuck!

He lets you take your fill, biting his tongue to control his laughter. He then tilts your chin up with one finger, and smiles down at you like he’s a sexy devil instead of a deathless god.

“See something you like?”Jungkook ask. You scoff at him, but your face is still red as a tomato. “Such a little feisty goddess.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, your breathing finally going back to normal. “Wonder why the cosmos paired us together.” It was a rhetorical question and one laced with sarcasm. Jungkook’s grins at you, taking your comment as it was and not taking it to heart.

“I think-“ Jungkook starts as he leans down to your face, making you back up against the pillow behind you. “It paired us together because it knew there had to be someone like you for me to fall in love with.”

Jungkook kisses both of your cheeks, holding himself above you by his strong forearms. You lightly glide your fingers across his arms, feeling the veins under your fingertips. He is such a beautiful being, and starting up at him in all his handsome glory really does make you wonder why the universe paired you two together.

“What do you mean?”

He glides his nose across your own, teasing the touch of his lips to yours. You bite your bottom lip, pulling it through your teeth as you gaze into his two love sick eyes.

“Someone I would never reap.“ The one the reaper will never reap. “A deathless person like myself.” A goddess she’ll be. “And someone who I’ll be craving to take.”

Taking in his words has your insides twisting, and your pussy craving what he’s willing to him. Jungkook smashes his lips back on yours before you can crave to long, though. Its all clothing being ripped off, and the twisting of tongues from there. You don’t even realize your completely naked underneath him until Jungkook attaches to your nipple. The feelings you had from yesterday when you two were in this exact position sparks within you.

Your moans soon turn to gaps, though, when you feel something new, and foreign, and hard against your thigh. When did he take off his pants?

Jungkook feels you stiffen underneath him, his hands stopping in there tracks down your body as he unlatches his mouth from your chest. He knows you feel his want for you, and by the way your eyes widen he wishes it could be any other way. He wishes this wouldn’t hurt as much as it’s going to, and maybe if you weren’t a vir-

His blood starts boiling before the thought fully registers in his mind. There’s no space for what ifs anymore, anyway. Your here, naked in his bed, and underneath him practically begging with your eyes for him to take you. Wanting him to take you for the first time, and trusting him enough with your soul for eternity.

He whispers through the connection something that could have brought tears to your eyes if it wasn’t for your nerves.

Are you sure you want this?

Are you sure? Are you sure that you want the one and only person you considered to be your friend as a life partner? Someone who has been with you longer then your memory stretches, and has loved you before you even turned two hours old?

“Yes…” Jungkook licks his lips. “Take me, Jungkook.”

And who is he to deny you?

With a comforting arm underneath your head, and his other hand supporting your thigh, he slowly enters you for the first time. There’s pain, yes, but you feel an even bigger emotion spread within you. Spread through the both of you.

It’s a feeling deeper then love, and when he moves ever so slightly inside of you, stretching your insides to accommodate him, it’s almost catastrophic. Like the universe is giving you a brand new feeling that only you and Jungkook could feel.

“Nae sarang… are you… okay?” Jungkook says between deep breathes. He knew you would feel good, but he didn’t think you would feel this good. If it wasn’t for his amazing restraint, he would be fucking you so hard that you couldn’t see straight. The feeling of you surrounding you is so tight, and he now understands how making love is so much better then regular fucking.

Your just so perfect.

You nod your head, and squeeze his body closers to yours so your chest to chest. “Please move, my love.”

Jungkook groans into your neck, the pet name from you in English somehow sounding even better to his ears then his own nickname for you. He picks up his face out your neck, and stares down at you as he starts to move within you.

Whoever said the god of death isn’t a gentlemen is surly mistaken, because the way he treats you in this moment is like fire skating around ice. Maybe it’s the fact that your a virgin - was a virgin- or that your the first person he’s ever been in love with that he treats you like a glass doll, but either way you admire his patience with you.

You’ve never had someone care for you like this, and you particularly love when there’s a singular thrust he drives inside you to hard, Jungkook’s resolve nearly breaking, that drives you up the walls and having you cry out in pure ecstasy.

“Jungkook… My-My-…”

My god, was what you were meant to say, but instead you started moaning and the words were lost from you.

Jungkook shakes his head, remembering how to breathe when he hears you moan and whither in his arms. He didn’t even realize how stiff he was until now, but seeing your face contort the way it is now has him back to reality.

“Please Jungkook, can you… Ah!”

With a stronger grip on your hip, and him now gripping on the headboard behind you he starts thrusting into you with earnest. Moan after echoing moan is heard within this room, and Jungkook’s ears are capturing every sound.

The second you gave the go ahead, he took it. And fuck it feels like your melting his cock by how hot you’re getting around him.

Jungkook smiles down at you, and kisses your open mouth as you moan. When he starts to feel you clench around him a moan passes through his own lips. You rip at his back with your nails as he drives into you full force, unable to hold back any noises like before. You’ve never felt this good before, and truthfully, neither has Jungkook.

“Your so tight, and wet, and warm… fuck, baby, your so perfect for me.”

You both are so engrossed with each other that his words hit you right in the stomach, making you to close to be considered normal to reaching your end. It’s when Jungkook thrusts against a particular spot inside of you that it starts coming. It starts with your toes and then it’s vibrating across your every limb. It’s a quacking of an orgasm that he continues to fuck you through.

“Fuck, Y/n… shit you feel so good. The way you tighten around me feels like you’re trying to rip off my cock, ” Jungkook curses into your neck. He tries to keep himself steady as you ride out your orgasm, but it’s like he can feel it in his spine. The pleasure of what you’re doing only increasing by the seconds and making you both dizzy.

He pushes himself up by his arms, and your legs wrap around him to connect at the ankles. This angle not only has him driving into you deeper and harder, but with each thrust your clit is being pressed against. Your back arch’s, and your hands grab onto the sheets. Jungkook’s watches how you both reconnect and disconnect, and he sees how wet you truly are. He has to clamp his eyes shut. Feeling how wet you are is one thing, but seeing it is another. And if you were to say…

“Jungkook! So good… so good!”

You don’t know how it’s possible, but even just coming off your own orgasm you feel it again. It makes no sense, but you don’t think about it as your toes curl, your pussy clenches, and you feel Jungkook grow even bigger inside of you as you cum again. Your words and the feeling of your clench around him drives him to get three seconds away from cumming.

He drops against you, holding you tightly in his arms as his own orgasm begins to coarse though him. It’s all to much, but you hold him through your third orgasm of the night, and then your feeling his own inside of you.

There’s no warning besides a loud grunt in your ear when he cums. It shakes your fricken soul, and it has the both of you quacking and holding into each other much tighter.

And then you both feel it.

Your emotions became his emotions, and his became yours. Every thought, experience, or count of love crossed between you two is being shown to your eyes in front of you. Your chest are pressed against each others, and you feel Jungkook’s arms tighten around your body as he holds you. Both of you knowing that your both about to see some amazing images of each other as the truth of each others love is completed.

You gasp when you see yourself as a baby, the emotions that crashed into Jungkook with them that day.

He feels your emotions when you first realized you loved him, the day he told you the story about the war. Jungkook remembers that day, although not quite like you. He thought the story scared you, but you actually heard Jungkook’s every word as a way of him not treating you like a child.

That’s how the fates treated you, and you hated it. When Jungkook told you this horror of a story, him feeling like he’s doing the wrong thing by letting you know needed Information for being a goddess, he understands how your heart grew a little bigger for him.

Both of the days you fell in love with each other had double firsts. Both of you being each others first loves, as well as you being the first person he cared about and him being the first person to respect you.

You blink your eyes open, and see Jungkook already staring back at you. You both felt it, and you both saw it. The lightening of emotions and the connecting of souls that just climaxed from the two of you completing the rite. You smile, knowing your connected with Jungkook in this way now, and then something you’ll never get tried of hearing is said.

“I love you so much, y/n. I didn’t- you never told me that you felt that way… back then.” He means to say this as a way of clearing the air of the overwhelming emotions still pouring into the both of you, but there’s a hint of sadness there too. If Jungkook knew you loved him sooner, you could have been what you two are now sooner. But he knows that’s mostly his fault. Never being able to tell you the truth being the reason why. The past is the past, though. And Jungkook knows a thing or two about being stuck in the past. “I’m so glad I have you.”

Your smile never wavers as you look at Jungkook lay on your chest. You gently comb your fingers through his hair, feeling him hum against you - finally content with himself. He only pulls out of you after you start to whimper from over stimulation. Jungkook already getting hard again because he’s waited a millennium to be like this with you, but he’s willing to wait a few moments before he can ask you for more.

I’ll wait forever for you.

Your feeling a little drowsy now that you’ve come down from your high, but his thoughts echo all around your head. Before, it was always like a whisper. Something so small that had the potential to grow, and now that it has each word is clear as day. You wonder if it will always feel like this.

“I’ll make sure you always feel like this,” Jungkook answers your unspoken question. “I’ll make sure you never feel lonely again.”

He makes good on his words by scooping you up in his arms, and making you giggle as your suddenly picked up and cradled like bride. But I guess, you are a bride? You honestly don’t know how any of this works still, but your fine with figuring it out slowly.

His wings sculpt around you both, making it seem like it’s just you and him in this world. You glide your fingers down a set of feathers and feel the softness dance on your fingertips.

“They’re beautiful,” You comment.

“Yes you are,” He responds back. You look back to face Jungkook, and his eyes are only on you. You were clearly talking about his wings, but Jungkook can only think about you in any context in this moment.

You nuzzle your check against his peck, and hum in content like he did before. Jungkook bites his lip, fighting back an obvious smile, as he looks down at you.

“You make me so happy,” You say softly, still in a daze. “Can we please never leave here? Let’s not face the fates, and just… be here. Be together.”

Jungkook’s smile falters a little, but not completely. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to not smile around you again, but then he realizes he already has the answer - you’re the only reason he smiles. It’s just the mention of the fates that irks him. He knows they probably know what happened. They aren’t able to see your fate, but they can see his. Heck, they probably knew this day would come before even he did.

But still, one day you’ll want to see them again. He pulls you closer to him even though your already smushed against him because he can’t help but think they may try to take you away from him. Would they be that cruel? To cast a fate that he would lose you somehow?

You don’t need to read Jungkook’s thoughts to know he’s upset, although the emotion is pouring through your every blood cell at the moment. You sit up in his lap, and hold his face in your hands, and kiss him.

“I’m yours,” You say against his lips, and he stiffens underneath you when he hears your words. Eventually melting into the kiss.

It’s fierce, and powerful. Nothing to suggest more then kissing, but it’s intimate nonetheless. It’s your own promise to Jungkook. A promise that your not going anywhere, and that you two are forever bonded.

And just in case he doesn’t get the hint, you say through the hieros gamos bond the promise you’ll make every day if you have to.

I love you always, Nae sarang.

———

You never thought ten years would be your limit, but here you stand at the precipice of the cave you once lived in, readying yourself to see there faces again.

These past ten years have been crazy. Anything that has to do with Jungkook and you separate from the rest of the world has been as you expected: wonderful.

You’re team, really. You don’t go with him to the mortal realm and reap souls, but you love dictating who they will love for life in the future after they drink from the River Lethe, and then watching their souls drift to a new life.

Hades - Aiden, he likes to be called - and Persephone have opened you up to the Underworld with open arms. They didn’t even need a full introduction when you first met. Hecate being as loyal as ever - to everyone, but Jungkook - told the king and queen that first night after she snuck into Jungkook’s mind by accident.

The first night you were there, turned into five. That’s right, five whole days and nights of where Jungkook wouldn’t let you out of his room for any reason. It got to the point where even his mother, Nyx, was banging on his door and wondering what the fuck he was doing.

That was awkward first met and greet with the goddess of night. You being just on your hands and knees bent over the chair in the room while Jungkook was thrusting into you no more then a minute before hand. The goddess Nyx - similar to every other deity - welcomed you with open arms, though.

Within a month you knew everyone. Within three months you knew ever square inch of the underworld. And then within a year you claimed this place as your forever home, eating a full fruit of the underworld and not looking back. Forget six seeds, you had no one else outside of the underworld that your cared about and would want to see.

Well… you did have three someone’s. But there technically, if you squint, in the underworld. And now your going to see them for the first time in ten years…

Jungkook wasn’t happy about it. Him being prepared to stop reaping souls and keep you captive in your shared room to prevent you from leaving. For which you had to remind him that you’re your own person, and just for an extra measure - you reminded him just how much you love him with your mouth alone. Sucking him dry until he passed out.

Jungkook still held you close that night - like he does every night, but that night it was as if he let go of you then you would somehow disappear.

“Do you have to go?” Jungkook asked with the smallest of voices.

“I’ll only be gone an hour or two,” You assured before you kissed him on the cheek. You look into the eyes you’ve woken up to and fell asleep next to everyday for ten years, never getting tired of the sparkle within them, but with this everyday knowledge you see his sadness. You feel his sadness. It crushes your heart, but the only reason it’s there is because he loves you with all his being. “I’ll never leave you, Jungkook.”

“Such a big promise from someone so small.” You roll your eyes and then playfully hit his shoulder at his tease for your height. “Kidding! … I just- I just love you so much…”

You hate the smallness in his voice. It still echos in your head now, as you take your first step into the cave you were raised in. The first leap to the past you kept behind you for so long, you were willing walking back to.

The first thing you smell is the smell of thread. It’s a smell that hasn’t been lost from you in these last ten years. You wonder who’s fate they are currently sewing together, but as you walk further into the cave, you find out.

The three fates sit at there three seater sewing stand, pressing the humans fate and writing out how their life will play out before it has even begun.

“Hello, daughter.”

“We were wondering-“

“When you would visit.”

You smile at their familiar way of talking. Each word being passed through each of them as they talk. Unlike ten years ago, you see the visible only to you link between the three of them. You’ve learned a lot about yourself over these past two year including your abilities. One of those abilities being that seeing the hieros gamos link was not your only ability, but any link between connected beings.

You learned this when you met Orpheus for the first time. He did not complete the rite with his true love Eurydice when he went into the underworld to beg the king of your realm for her to come with him back to the mortal world. Despite that, you saw the link between the two of them, even if he did not see Eurydice’s spirit until the final second he shouldn’t have, you saw the romantic fate the two of them shared.

It was pink unlike yours and Jungkook’s. The hieros gamos link being blue. The fates link is a shimmer gold. A bond that will only break once one of them dies. Something the fates haven’t even written in the twine yet.

You walk up to the fates, wanting to reach out and touch their line but stopping yourself. Not wanting to know what would happen if you touched such a sacred bond like that. The other bonds you’ve touched had made their feeling stronger, but your not sure what will happen if you touch a link that’s been so fragile over the years.

“Hello, family,” You start with. “Who’s fate are you creating, today?”

You watch your mother’s smile grow, and your aunts lips switch upwards with hers. It’s like your reading off an old script as you ask that question. That question being something you would always ask, and being one of your favorite types of stories.

“A man who’s life will not be long.”

“He will have great hopes, and bear many babes.”

“It won’t be until he gets too greedy with his women-“

“That the last women he swelled with life will slit his throat.”

“Ending there love-“

“That never grew-“

“To what it was meant to be.”

From the outside looking in, it seems like the fates just casted a hopeful, but tragic life for this one man. But that is not the case. Unlike the fates, when you look at the twine you see a very important thread being carved inside of it as they sew in his 20s.

He will fall in love with his soulmate at the age of 22, but she will die before giving birth to their fifth child. Him slitting his own throat because of her, and a life cut short at the age of 30.

This is something you were never able to see before. It’s like you were finally given glasses to read out the fates castings that once either confused you, or you read to literal. You smile at the thread, even though the ending is still tragic it’s a life he filled with love.

Your mother, Atropos, cuts herself off from twining with a snip of her scissors. The other three sisters stopping once the thread has weaved through the spindle all the way.

All three of them sit up straight, and look at you at the same time.

“How have you been?”

“Pff! She means how’s the husband?”

“Any grand babies yet? Ow!”

“Death cannot bear children!”

“Stupid sister.”

“Oh… I forgot… sorry… your still my favorite niece, though!”

You roll your eyes and smile at your aunt Lachesis. Her foolishness was always so entertaining to you. “It’s fine. We don’t want children anyway.”

All three fates raise their pointed left eyebrow, then they look into the ether to find Jungkook’s thoughts on the matter.

…

“Damn.”

“She’s right!”

“Must still be a good- Ow! I was going-“

“To say-“

“Marriage,” Your mother shakes her head. Jutting out her bottom lip in an angry pout at her sisters.

You laugh and it feels so foreign to do around the three of them, that even that fates look over at you in wonder. You clear your throat, coughing into a closed fist.

“It has been good, yes… but must admit I didn’t come here for a family visit.” Although you still love your family dearly - even after they kept you trapped in the fake life for so long - you forgave them at the same time you forgave Jungkook.

In the end, you got what you wanted on your own path, and maybe that’s what the fates wanted for you the entire time. Maybe that’s even why they didn’t stop you that day - because it was time. You realized this when the three of them never came after you. Not even a whisper of a fates revenge tail being rumored across the three realms.

“Then why-“

“Did you come here-“

“Daughter?”

You answer, by looking in the direction of the place you first met your true love.

———

You expected the tree to somehow be withered and wilted. A tree unkept or visited by the one who empowered it made you think this way. But when you stepped into the small clearing you used to visit so often, you’re surprised to not only see it still standing but bigger then before.

The carnations are sprouting wildly upon the top of it, and the bark is still strong and brown. There’s not an inkling that you ever left that place to begin with.

“How can this be?” You ask no one in particular.

…but someone answers.

“It was made from a hieros gamos bond. I told you it would still be here.”

You smile when you hear the love of your life’s voice from behind you, but you turn around with a pout as you face him. “I told you not to come!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but the bright smile he grows when he sees your face takes the attitude away. He walks up to you, and envelopes you in his arms around your waist. You smooth your hands up the front of his shirt, connecting your fingers together when your two hands meet behind his neck.

“Maybe I was curious about the tree too.”

You pull your lips into a thin line, unbelieving his very obvious lie. “Mhmm… and I love flying.”

Jungkook’s wings spread out behind him, like they can hear you mocking them. He chuckles lightly, then leans down close to your ear and whispers, “You don’t mind flying when we’re in the air and I’m fucking-“

You shove him away before he can say anymore, playful swatting at his chest. “Your so gross!”

“Then your in love with a gross god.”

You roll your eyes, but that statement has never been more perfectly- “True.”

Jungkook beams at your confession, and he clasps your fingers together with his because he can’t help but want to touch you every time you confess your love for him. You look over at the tree after a silence spreads between the two of you. Not silence out of nothing to say, but silence because you both are basking in the place you first exchanged words in.

You both end up sitting under the tree underneath the branch Jungkook used to love sitting on, staring up at the beautiful flowers. Your hands are still conjoined with his in the middle of the two of you, but you stay silent nonetheless. Both of you are remembering all the pining and longing you both did for each other here, and to think if either of you just opened your feelings up sooner then the life you live with each other now would have started much sooner.

But that’s not what keeps either of your silence in that moment, either. It’s the pure love you both feel here. You decided to venture here when you own day felt it calling to you. Like you needed to show the tree that you were in love with the person it grew for. You lean onto that said person’a shoulder, and breathe in the loving aroma around you.

“Wow,” Is all you say. It’s all you need to say because you both feel what this place is radiating right now.

Love.

And your love for each other, along with this tree, will be forever deathless

The End

。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。

Pomegranate - Symbol of death and fertility. In Greek mythology, the pomegranate was known as the 'fruit of the dead' as it was said to have arisen from the blood of Adonis. It also prominently featured in the myth of Hades and Persephone.

River Lethe - Also known as the Ameles potamos (river of unmindfulness), the Lethe flowed around the cave of Hypnos and through the Underworld where all those who drank from it experienced complete forgetfulness.

Orpheus and Eurydice - read the full tragic love story about these two here.

Ending Notes: I want to give a big shout out to the author of the book Receiver of Many because reading that series over again inspired me to write this mini-series. If your interested in reading more Greek mythology stories, this one being about Hades and Persephone, I definitely recommend checking her series out!

I’ve also had this idea in my head for like a year, and only about two weeks ago decided to write it out. I don’t know why I didn’t have the confidence before to write it, but now that I did I absolutely love what I did!

Please leave all your feedback down below, or you can even message me. I really love hearing from y’all, and I’m not lying when I say it inspires me to write when I see positive feedback.

I hope you enjoyed this mini-series as much as I did writing it. Until next time my curious cats ఌ

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netherfeildren · 4 months

Text

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter XI : Lethe

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Brief reference to sexual assault (none has or will occur); Hurt/Comfort; Extremely soft Din Djarin

A/N: I kinda just winged all of this, if there are any inaccuracies or any canon divergence, a great and many apologies!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER XI : LETHE

At what point does one say of a man that he has become unreal?

Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

Between bouts of wakefulness, you tell him of the things they did to you in the dark. A blooming flower in the dead of winter, stunted and slow, and as if you’re pulling your own teeth in some moments, when other words come like vomit, rushed and hot and putrid but necessary, something not to be held back. And you don’t tell him the whole of it, he knows this, he can see, but you tell him the parts you can bear, and for now, it’s enough.

You sit in that bed of comfort he’s so meticulously arranged for you in the dim light of the Razor Crest, overheads shut off, only a single warm snake of glowing light falling over you from the cracked open fresher door, navcom set for the desert planet of Tatooine and the spaceport of Mos Eisley, and the thrum of hyperspace buzzes around the two of you. He sits on the opposite side of the hull, wrapped in his armor and his silence and his wanting, and he watches you ebb and flow out of sleep; soft, slow drooping of your eyes into wakefulness and then back into the depths of rest. You need so much of it, he can tell.

At first, you don’t let him near. No touching, please, you beg in whispers, and although it feels as though his bones are thrashing within the confines of his skin or like his teeth will fall out of his skull from the saccharine sweet flavor of want for you that sits sticky on his tongue, he obeys. So at a distance, with certainly no touching at all, the two of you talk. For hours, and then for days, and although his bones continue to shake, and his teeth continue to ache, he holds himself in temperance and restraint because he knows that to just look upon you is enough, he knows it’s everything.

The trip to Tatooine takes days, the Crest a little worse for wear than what she’d been when you’d previously been aboard. The hits she’d taken over the years, over his and Grogu’s journey had taken their toll, and her hyperdrive was no longer what it had once been. But she ramained faithful and sturdy, like any good mistress, and she’d get the two of you where you needed to be, to Tatooine and to Peli for some much needed maintenance after the long trip to the Core. And Din knew it wouldn’t only be the ship’s routine upkeep the two of you would find there, but some much needed rest in the sand port, as well, and most importantly, time. Buying himself time during the slow going trip, and then there, to figure out how it was he was going to get you to stay with him, force you if necessary.

He’d been telling the truth when he’d said you weren’t going anywhere. He would not be left again.

Din had been a stupid man before. He would not be making the same sorts of mistakes again.

Two days since he’d brought you aboard now, and you’re still not entirely well. Tired and sluggish, but he tells himself you just need rest and the closely monitored interval feedings he’s been coaxing on you. You’re sleeping again now after he’d gently cooed and shushed you into accepting some broth, and he watches the methodical up and down sway of the wing of your shoulder, hypnotizing, listening to the whistle of your open mouthed breathing that sings a song assuring him you’re alive and well. He’s been sitting at the opposite end of the hull from you, as far as he can get while still remaining in your direct vicinity, attempting to give you whatever measure of peace he can bear, silent and still, enshrouded in the dark for hours now. Counting the minutes between the sporadic opening of your eyes, the brief moments when you come to and grant him access to your gaze.

Those eyes of yours, they’d haunted him for two years. When he was trying to forget you, when he was trying to move on, stupid and horrible, insisting he could only take Omera from behind because he couldn’t bear the sight of a face that wasn’t yours. He had been wrong. He had done wrong. He had been bad. And he didn’t want to admit it, or acknowledge it, or look it directly in the face, but it was regret which lived in him. He couldn’t deny it.

He’s been scanning your heat signatures every thirty minutes, your core temperature holding normal, your vitals stable, and he’s full of sick paranoia, ravenous want, singing joy. Too many things churning within him to properly digest, and in a way, he’s grateful for this time you’re affording him to gather himself while you sleep and recover. He needs to be well collected, ready and strong and level headed to give you whatever it is you might need when you’re finally ready to leave your restful unconsciousness and come back to him.

You start to shift as he’s scanning your temperature once again. First the hitching of a knee and the nudge of your hips, and then your leg stretching long and lithe, and he watches the arch of your small foot peek out from beneath your blanket, tiny toes splaying wide, spasming and shivering with the stretch of your muscles. He swallows hard, forces the heat in his body that would like to swell to an inferno to remain cool and serene. All this, just from the sight of one small foot. He’s pathetic and ridiculous, and he doesn’t care because he loves you, and you finally know and really, what could matter after that? Nothing.

His eyes swing back up to your face, and he watches the scrunch of your spikey, dark lashes before you nuzzle your face into the cove of your shoulder, coming awake slowly, slowly, as if you’d not had any real, true and peaceful rest since the last time you’d been on his ship. He watches you with bated breath, the subtle inclination of his body towards you as if he were trying to absorb your presence, and when you finally turn back, eyes blinking open he feels his heart lurch in his chest at the first sight of them. Nothing in the galaxy compares, and he must surely know, he’s seen so much of it.

He says your name, voice low and graveled with disuse. “How do you feel?”

You stretch your arms out in front of you, wriggling beneath the covers and making the most delicious of little noises he forces himself not to fixate on. Oh, you sigh, eyes opening wide, long lashes fanning across high cheekbones, before you finally find him in the shadows he’s sitting in. Nothing but the still gleam of beskar in the dim light to give him away.

“You’re so extra shiny now,” little voice and even tinier nose scrunch, so adorable that something soft inside of him aches and snaps its teeth.

“Yes, well…” he sighs, “new armor.”

You sit up slowly, jaw shifting from side to side as you move with what looks like frightened care, like you’re expecting something to hurt, and then, yes, there it is, tiny and subtle, but a flinch. Infinitesimal scrunch of your brows, your left eye winking shut, the droop of your mouth, all of it happening so fast, but he’s watching so intently, learning forward as if he’d shoot across the space that separates the two of you to take you in hand, fix whatever it is that’s aching, that he catches it all before you can school your features into blankness.

“Your hair’s longer,” he whispers, and you freeze, arms bracing yourself up on locked elbows, they don’t tremble anymore like before, and he takes this as a good sign. You let your head fall forward to hang between your shoulders, long hair, a curtain concealing your face from him, and he wants to snap at you, for one unhinged moment, that you’re not allowed to keep your eyes from him anymore. He’s already gone too long without them, he can’t bear anymore of it. But he swallows his insanity, keeps his mouth shut.

You shake your head down at the blankets, before finally looking back up, sitting up all the way and turning to face him. Silent while you settle with your back against the wall so that now the two of you are face to face, separated by dust motes and memories and desire that snaps like lightning between the two of you. There is frision here, pressurized and boiling, and he has to behave. He won’t push you or ask anything of you you’re not ready to give or tell. You’d already shared bits and pieces with him, over your stunted bouts of consciousness over the past two days. A dark hole in the ground, a thieving Twi’lek, breaking of a kind he can’t bear to think of directly, and I hurt like I’m newly made, Din. And now, the first time you’ve been fully awake and lucid, he isn’t going to ruin this with his desperation.

“Fancy. Looks expensive,” you press about the armor.

“I did a big job.”

He doesn’t know how to handle the subject of him. He’d told you the most important fact you needed to know, that he isn’t his biological son, that he hadn’t betrayed you in that way. But the rest? The whole of it? There was so much to say, so many things, great and small to tell. Din couldn’t fathom where to start.

“Oh? What was it?” You’ve wrapped the blanket up high beneath your chin, hiding yourself away from him swathed as you are. Everything and anything you can do to keep yourself apart and protected.

“Are you hungry? You should eat,” he says instead.

You shake your head no. “What was it? Tell me.”

A sigh, and, “Stole the kid for some Imperial remnants.”

“You did what? Your kid?” You screech, surging forward all tangled up in the blankets as you are.

“Yes. Unknowingly,” he huffs. “I collected payment, and then I– I… I don’t know, changed my mind. I went back for him.” His words come to a stuttered halt, unsure and suddenly, unbearably shy, fucking with a small loose seam coming apart at the knee of his pants he’d been meaning to mend for days. There’s a part of him, irrational or untried or overprotective that doesn’t want to tell you about him, his ad’ika, and he can’t understand why when it’s you. The girl he loves, the girl he’s waited for. But it had been so difficult, so precarious, his journey with Grogu, always on the defensive, always looking over his shoulder, waitting for the worst. He’s unused to sharing him without fear or trepidation. And then his loss… for that’s what it feels like, and he’d never admit it aloud, knows he’s where he’s supposed to be, needs to be, now, but there still lives a small, sour seed within Din that whispers that that it’s wrong, that Grogu’s place had always been, and always will be, with him. And when he looks back up at your face, open and patient and lovely, it all spills out anyways. “He was a foundling, as I was. And he’s– he’s special. And after I went back for him, he was… put in my charge of sorts. We struggled so much, trying to evade the Empire, seeking out his people–”

“You found the Jedi?” You gasp.

Murky waters. “We did. He’s with them now. We traveled to Calodan on the forest planet of Corvus, we met a Jedi there by the name of Ahsoka Tano. I thought she’d take him then, help him. He needed to be with his people, and I knew that, I was prepared for that, but along the way… along the way he became– he became–” he clears his throat, for his voice has gone rough, almost choked. He shakes his head, unable to continue but you nod encouragingly, understanding without words all Grogu means to him. You’re sitting at the edge of the nest of blankets now, as if gravitating towards him, holding yourself back, marooned on an island of your own making.

“I’ve heard of her. A great legend, tragedy…”

“Yes, well… She sensed it in us, in Grogu.”

“That’s his name?” You ask softly. “Grogu?” And Din’s heart, it aches, at the sound of it coming from your mouth, all the gentleness and tenderness his ad’ika needs to be afforded. And unbidden, like flash fire, something he has to look away from immediately for his own self preservation, yours too probably, he thinks: oh, but you’d make the most wonderful mother, cyare.

“Yes,” he breathes, “Grogu.”

“And he– he’s a boy? Where does he come from? How old is he?”

“Not human. No one knows what species he is, but he was born on Coruscant, raised at the Jedi temple before the Great Purge, and then smuggled to safety and hidden away for years before I came to find him. He’s supposed to be about fifty years old.”

“But he’s–” your brow folds in confusion, “He’s a child? You called him–”

“Yes. He’s still young, still a baby. I don’t– I don’t know. He’s special. Green and– and wrinkled, with big eyes and even bigger ears.”

“He sounds… he sounds like someone my– my master spoke to me of, once. Of an unknown species, a great Jedi master. Perhaps the strongest in the galaxy, the strongest that's ever lived. Luke Skywalker was his apprentice.”

“That’s where the kid is now– with Skywalker.”

“You gave him to Luke Skywalker?” And your eyes shutter, your mask slipping briefly, showing your frayed edges.

“Yes.” He says carefully. “Ahsoka, she said she couldn’t take him, that we were too– too connected, that he needed someone more.”

“You seem to have a way with Force users,” you say suddenly, a little bashfully, a small smile spreading across your face in a half moon of laughter. “But it makes sense,” you continue, “That his connection, whatever loyalty to you he may have had,” and the use of the past tense feels like a gut punch, “would be difficult to work around when training someone so young and untried. But if he’s anything like his predecessor, then he has great potential in the Force. He’ll probably grow to unprecedented strength eventually. And from what I’ve heard, the species is very long lived, hundreds and hundreds of years.” Another sucker punch, this one even worse. Grogu would live to be old beyond Din’s years.

He clears his throat, yanks harder on the loose seam so that it splits at the side, revealing a patch of hairy knee. “We found those he belongs to, he’s with his people now. I lost him– or I– I returned him to where he should’ve always been. It’s better like this.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper from your perch at the edge of your self imposed island. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s all the way it’s supposed to be.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Only a few weeks. Like I said, he was taken by Imperial remnants led by a Moff Gideon. Skywalker saved us and took him. He has a temple where he plans to train young Jedi. He’ll be with other children like him now. It’s good for him. I know it is.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of it, he promises he’s not, or doesn’t mean for it to come out like that.

“I’ve heard of Gideon,” you muse, shifting to lean back, movements still slow, not as smooth as they usually are. The thick mantle of your hair shifts over your shoulder, and Din’s mouth goes dry, desperate to bury his face in all that lush splendor and take in the scent of it, feel the drag of it across his naked chest, over his cock and thighs.

“What do you know of him?”

“Only his name, and the great ambition tied to it. He took part in the siege on Mandalore… didn’t he?”

“He did. He’s in the custody of the New Republic now. Awaiting trial and judgment.”

“Tell me about the saber,” you say then.

“I won it from Gideon in battle.”

“It’s the Darksaber, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“It’s legend.” And you look at him strangely at that, mercurial look passing through your eyes, memories or something worse. “Many great and terrible hands have wielded that blade. Clan Vizsla, who forged it, the Sith lord Darth Maul, Sabine Wren.”

He’s shocked by the seemingly great well of knowledge you possess on the figures he’s spent the last two years dealing with. “I’m familiar with the Clan. Paz Vizsla. How do you know all this?” He asks.

“He–” You turn away, brows hitching high, and he watches a swallow pass through the delicate column of your throat. “My master, he was a lover of knowledge, information gathered everywhere, always. He made it his business to know things, and my purpose to collect it for him.”

He wishes you’d let him go to you at the mention of that scum. He wishes he could resurrect him from the dead just to send him back to the deepest pit existing, at the look on your face, small and frightened and childlike. Din’s stomach turns, and he changes the subject. “Wren– she… I think I’ve heard of her from my friend Bo, as well.

“Who?” That brings you back to attention, and he’s grateful for the concealment of the helmet for the small smile he can’t help at the look that comes across your face.

“She’s a Mandalorian. Bo-Katan Kryze.”

“Your friend…?”

“She helped me with the kid. When Moff Gideon captured him, her and her followers aided me in his rescue. It got complicated–”

“Between the two of you?” You cut him off with a little huffing scowl.

“Before Skywalker showed up to help us, little one.”

“Oh,” you huff again, turning your nose up at him haughtily. He can’t help the breath of air he lets out at that. Silly, gorgeous thing. He wants to kiss you so badly.

“The saber’s rightfully hers.”

“Oh,” again, and he laughs, again. “Oh, yes. Yes. The–” you frown, “The legend is that whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore. I’ve heard that.”

“And that sure as fuck isn’t me. Her family ruled before the siege, it’s hers.” The entire business of it still scathes and prickles at him.

And you laugh at that, “No?” Head tipping back, that mantle of hair sliding again, provoking him again. “Why not? It could be–”

“No. Definitely not. Never. That isn’t something I’d ever be interested in. I would never suit such a role. And this– this thing…” he motions to the crate where the Darksaber sits discarded. He’d found he hated wearing it on himself for too long. “It doesn't suit me well. It’s difficult to wield, something– something leaden and sucking about it.”

“You wielded it just fine from what I saw.”

“You were doing something.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I could feel you, when you attacked me–”

“I didn’t attack you,” you scoff, affronted. Haughty nose back up in the air, and the soft thing inside Din snaps its teeth together once more.

“Don’t start,” he admonishes, voice deep and rumbling and speaking of all the things he’d like to do to you that he cannot even give thought to right now. You roll your eyes, and he can’t help but smile. Sass is good, sass means you’re feeling better, more yourself.

“I could feel you, almost as if you were feeding your energy into me.”

You turn to look at him sharply at that. Tiny frown marring the space between your fine brows he’d like to smooth away with a kiss. “What? I– I didn’t mean to, or– or I didn’t know I was doing that…” You look away again, pressing fingertips to your mouth in concentration. Everything about you, every movement, gesture, frown and sigh and inflection, mesmerizes him. Din didn’t think it possible he could have been worse off than he was before, but he comes to the sudden, startling realization, that he’d had absolutely no idea how much deeper he could fall. The admission that you love him in return, the sound of it, had done something to him, set something off or opened something within him. Some sort of yawning, hungry maw that would only be satisfied once it’d swallowed you whole.

He needs to bide his time and temper his actions. He won’t scare you off.

“I was out of control…” you continue in a small whisper. “I didn’t know. I didn’t–” And you look nervous, frightened suddenly. Din leans forward, immediately on alert, ready to rush over to you if you need him, just from the look on your face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You’re all wide eyed fright and concern and an innocence about you, about the question, your worry that you’d hurt him. His heart thumps and thumps and thumps, the rush of blood through the mass of organ so hot it burns.

“Never, cyar’ika. You could never hurt me. I just feel you.” And it’s the truth, it had merely been an extension of yourself feeding him, strengthening him, emboldening him like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Something euphoric about the feeling he was not keen to experience again for the mere fact of how it’d left you, weak and fragile and exhausted, almost at a breaking point.

The two of you need to be careful, he realizes. There was a connection between the two of you, stronger and more easily traversed than either of you had previously realized, be it fate or love or the Force, but there was something that lived between the two of you and connected you and Din needs to be absolutely sure that whatever it is never becomes a detriment to you in any way.

You tilt your head sideways, some truth he knows he should fear churning behind your eyes. You bring your knees up to fold tightly against your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins, and lay your cheek against the small cap, hiding away from him again. “I want–” you say in a very small voice, “I want to tell you things, but I’m afraid of–” a swallow of breath.

“Afraid of what, cyare?”

At the tremble of your spine as you hitch with nerves, Din wants to go to you so badly. This is the most difficult thing he’s ever endured in his life. “Afraid you won’t see me the same again after I tell them.”

“Didn’t I already tell you there isn’t anything you could ever do that I wouldn’t forgive you for?” He presses forward just a millimeter.

You peer up at him at that, and there are no tears in your eyes which soothes him, in part, but worse, still splintered with so much sadness or hurt or the terror of time, and it’s like he’s bellyful of grief. There is something acutely unfair about the distance sitting between the two of you right now when you’re holding that look in your eyes.

“But what about respect?”

“You could never lose that from me either.” You shake your head, propping your chin on your bent knees and wrapping your hands around your feet to pull them up and rock back and then forward, thinking of what it is you're trying to say.

“Don’t you think there are certain things that a person shouldn’t be forgiven for?”

“Perhaps. But there are certain people the rules don’t apply to. That’s you for me.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“To who?”

“To you!” You say incredulously.

“Why not?”

“You–” And there are tears now, swimming in your eyes, his heart thump, thumping in agitation at the sight of them. He gives a growl of frustration that ends on a choke as you squeeze your eyes shut, a single tear sliding over the slope of your cheekbone. “Maker, Din. This is all wrong.” You sound as full of frustration as he feels, and he wants to say that he’s sure if you’d just let him come to you, you’d find the right way forward within each other. “You want to touch me.” He bites down on his tongue hard enough to taste blood.

“Are you looking in my head?”

You give a soft laugh. “Don’t need to.” He huffs, well, he isn’t going to deny it.

You turn away again, laying your cheek back atop your knee, and he can see the tension in your arms as you squeeze yourself tight, tighter. “I– I can’t– I can’t have sex with you,” you say in a smaller voice than he could’ve imagined possible.

He’s silent for a moment, trying to measure his breathing, and there’s violence thrumming within him at what he’s about to ask, but his voice is nothing but gentleness. “Did they– did they hurt you like that?”

You heave a long sigh, “No, but the feel of skin, I cant– I– I hurt everywhere, Din. Everywhere. Inside and– and–”

“It’s alright. It’s alright, cyar’ika.” He tries to push his voice out in gentle, measured notes. Something that’ll soothe you from afar. And the sight of you, all twisted and squeezed up into a tight little ball like you are– Maker– Din feels afraid, for a moment, of what might become of him, of the sort of violence he feels capable of in your name. “If it hurts, you don’t have to tell me anything now or at all.”

“I want to. Is it–” You look up, brow folding, squinty eyed as if you’re rifling through your head for the words. “How do I– how do I tell you that you deserve to know the full of it, but don’t deserve to carry the burden of it? That I wish I didn’t have to, but that I also want to tell you.”

“Just like that.” He presses another half a millimeter forward, feels like he’s hallucinating the scent of you from over here. “Tell me anything you need just like that. But don’t say it’d be a burden, you could never be anything even close to that to me.”

And still, with your eyes not on him, you say that which he’d already been expecting: “I let them keep me.”

He’d known.

“Are they dead?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“You didn't leave even one for me?” Your cheek rolls against the hill of your knee, eyes swinging up to spark at him, and Maker, as long as he’s still able to pull that look from you there’s hope. He can fix anything if only you continue to look at him like that.

The trip to Tatooine takes about ten days. Bouts of sleeping and eating and his gentle but insistent caring for you. He won’t let you pull away or into yourself; kept at a distance, but not pulling away, and the distinction might not be obvious, but he sees it. That’s enough.

Days later, when you wake again, a little stronger, but still sleepy and soft and beautiful, your hair is even longer. Seeming to grow a yard a day, incredibly. “It’s the Force; healing me, reconnecting with me. It works in strange ways,” you tell him as it pools around your waist. He says nothing, catalogs everything, and later, you come, moving slowly up the ladder into the cockpit to join him in the co-pilot's chair, bundled in a blanket. He’d left some of his socks for you warming on a pipe, just like before, and he sees the thick weave of them droopy over your toes, the part where his heel is supposed to go coming up to your ankle. He swallows and looks away and breathes and breathes and reminds himself he is strong and patient and entirely at your service in any way you might need. Din reminds himself that he must be good.

Your wounds heal slowly over the days, and he gripes and groans that all your energy is funneling into that damn hair and not the more important bits of you. He perches you on a crate, after having urged you into the fresher, pacing outside anxiously, hands on his hips, a huff and a sigh a minute while he listens for any bump or movement from within, making sure you don’t need him. He sticks a bowl of soup in your hands after, kneeling before you, gloves fitted over his hands so that you won’t have to feel his skin and shows you the bacta patches slowly, movements intentional and measured so that you’re not taken by surprise or touched in any way that you might not like. You eye him suspiciously, brow hitched, nose scrunched when you sniff delicately at the broth and then promptly discarding the bowl beside his medical kit, watching for what he plans to do with you next.

“That bit on your elbow isn’t healing.”

You give him a tiny frown, tucking the sore little wing tight into your side protectively. He presents his palms towards you, moves slowly. “It’s fine,” you pout.

“You know it’s not, little one. I’m going to put a single bacta patch over it. That’s it. No fuss, I promise.” Still moving slowly, watching the look in your eyes, opening the packet gently, he reaches for your arm, index finger and thumb taking hold of you first, a barely there cuff of his fingers just above your joint. He gives one slow stroke of his thumb, feeling you lock up, makes a low noise deep in his chest, something to soothe and coax you as he pulls your arm gently forward, untucking it from your side. “It’s alright, cyar’ika. Just a little bacta, nothing scary.” Your eyes go a little glazed, head tilting sideways to look down at him, mass of your hair shifting around you. That hair and those eyes and that face, Maker, but this is where he belongs, this is where he should always be, at his knees before you.

You give a soft sigh verging on a breathy little moan, your eyes fluttering shut as he smooths his thumb against the inner slope of your elbow, just there at the vulnerable dip, but when he slowly starts to lift your arm to get at the back side where the wound is, raw and red, a burned and angry looking thing, you wince, a little screech warbling in your throat, before jerking back trying to get away from him, quick and violent in your incoordination. That damned shoulder you haven’t let him look at yet, he knows it’s bad. You flail, little foot coming up to stub your toes against his stomach plate, bum scooting precariously over the edge of the stool. He reaches for you on instinct, his hand cupping the curve of your bottom to keep you seated, shit, hold on, stop, he grunts, but when you shove him away, loud slap of your palm against the curve of his helmet, he loses his balance, momentum taking the both of you toppling, unintentionally taking you with him. He falls splayed on his back, helmet dinging hollowly where his head knocks against the steel floor with a tangled mass of soft limbs and too long hair and lush tits sprawling over him. You wriggle and flail, an indignant squeak of his name, and then you go tense realizing all the places the two of you are suddenly pressed together. He feels a shudder of painful terror lock your limbs into shivers, the trembling hitch of your chest, and he holds frozen still, waiting for you to make the first move. But Maker, the feel of your weight on top of him. He widens the stance of his legs, slowly brings a knee up, trying to keep the heft of you away from his cock. He dips his chin to watch your face, eyes wide, frantically swinging across his chest, to his hands held up in surrender at your shoulders level, up to the face of his helmet.

You’re full of unsure fear and desire, yes, he can see it just there in the farthest glimmer of your eyes, the one like a scream, bright and hungry. Your brows fold together, confused, a frustrated noise slipping off your tongue before you give one more tense, strained jerk, and then seem to suddenly lose the fight and entirely melt into him. Your temple landing with a soft thump on his chest plate, arms wilting from their tensely held position over the outsides of his arms. Just a melted little thing of a girl, finally letting go of all that anxious strain you’ve held yourself in for two long years.

Din dares not move, not even breathe. He holds so still for so long he’s able to watch the change in the cadence of your breathing, the rickety little patter of nerves into slow and deep sighs, all relaxation and trust. And the bright light-like realization dawns on him while he lays beneath you, feels your chest press into his, the fire of your heart seeming to melt through beskar, the two of you know each other too well, too intimately. The two of you love each other, and he wants to live in it and experience it so badly. He wants to rush madly through the whole thing of it, live the rest of your lives together fast and in the blink of an eye first, and then be able to go back and do it all again slow and precise, taking each lived detail in his hand and learning the shape of it entirely before he’s able to move on to the next moment. He wants it all, the whole of a life with you.

So he doesn’t touch you, but the two of you lay like that, pressed against each other for hours, and the moment is enough.

Days later, he asks because he cannot help himself, because if you have to bear the truth of it all, he will too: “Why did you do it all?” And he doesn’t know precisely what the root of the question is.

Why did you leave me?

Why did you stay gone so long?

Why did you hurt yourself as you did?

You don’t answer immediately, and he wonders if he’s stepped where he shouldn’t have, pushed too far too soon, but then your face goes smooth and serene. Honest. “I didn’t think it would happen as it did. I thought I’d see you again, I thought it would all be sooner. I didn't think I’d be gone,” gone, “for so long. I thought I’d get a chance to make up for my mistakes with you.”

You sit in the co-pilot's chair, slightly behind him, and he doesn’t turn to look back at you, but he can see your reflection in the gleaming curve of the front of the cockpit, the rush of hyperspace zinging around the two of you, it’s quiet and thrumming and he can hear the soft cadence of your breathing. Your tunic is high necked, sitting just below the soft point of your little chin, every square inch of you wrapped away and sealed tightly in dark fabric, little pearlescent buttons that gleam blue crawl up to your throat and seem to strangle you. It’s as if you’d donned your own suit of armor, and he can’t understand how you still look so fucking good after everything. But as if he could peel away the stitching of you to peer beneath, he sees all that is wrong, all that is missing and all that is still echoing hollow. He thinks if he could only fill you with himself, all of everything would be set to rights.

You rest your head on the seat back, rolling it side to side slowly, thinking on what is is you’ll tell him next. “Because in ways, it felt good, better, than the alternative.”

“To be free?”

“Yes.” And the truth of that sits heavy and cloying between the two of you. An animal, hurt, will return to what it knows, no matter how badly it’s treated. It’s in its nature to seek out its familiar habitat. “Because I saw no other recourse, nothing better for me to do. Because I was stupid. Because I wanted to see how long I could last.”

He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, thick and metallic rolling over his tongue. “I don’t want to be selfish. I’ve been trying to– to not be that, to not make this about me.”

“It is about you.” Maker.

And he still doesn’t turn, says through his honest shame: “But I have to tell you that I don’t know how I can live with this, knowing this. I feel like– like I… I don’t know. I feel like if I go to sleep tonight knowing this, I won’t wake up tomorrow. Like it’ll crawl up my throat and strangle me in my sleep. And it shouldn’t– it shouldn’t be about me.”

“It’s not selfish, Din. It is about you,” you say again, and he wonders if your intention is to hurt him or yourself. More of that painful honesty like a blade through a lung.

He finally turns in his seat. “The way you live is the way I live. Do you understand me? The way you live is the way I live and your breath is mine and your hurt is mine.”

Your eyes are heavy lidded, watching him through the thick screen of your dark lashes, one eye seems to glow, the other to swallow him. “That’s why I know it’s about you too now. It started with nothing, with stupidity, and a wanton desire for– I don’t know, for destruction or something. But it ended with the realization that I’d have to tell you of all this one day. That it would be yours too eventually. And I regret it bitterly for that.”

“How am I supposed to move past this? What– what am I supposed to do with it?” He worries he sounds very like a child asking, but he has to anyway.

You shut your eyes, going so still, made of adamant and glass and smoke. He knows a thing like you could do nothing but survive, but at the same time, it seems a miracle you did. That you let yourself. He tracks the slope of your nose, the lush of your mouth, dry, you won’t drink enough water and it pisses him off, little chin and delicate throat, all that hair, the round of your breasts and the dip of your waist. Those little blue glowing pearl-for-buttons. He wants to steal them and swallow them away.

“Do you think,” you start, eyes still closed, face still calm. He leans forward, elbow braced against wide spread knees, and watches closely at the way your mouth forms the shapes of your words. “Do you think that– I don’t know how to say it, I think… but do you think it’s wrong to ask someone you love to just let a thing go? As much as it might’ve hurt them or bothered them or– or I don’t know… ruined everything. But to just ask them, for your sake, to let it go? Forget. Do you think that’s wrong?” Your eyes open. “Or selfish?”

“Is that what you want from me, cyar’ika?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to be selfish with you.”

“Neither do I. You said before that you don’t want me to forgive you. You don’t want forgiveness, you want forget.”

“Yes.”

He nods once. “And I have nothing to forgive you for, and asking me for the things you need is never selfish.”

And you say again, once more like before with your face still calm, “You want to touch me.”

If he were a beast made only of flesh and bone and not a man he would snap his teeth. “Yes.”

You stand slowly, hair a cloak around your shoulders, and step to him, between his wide spread thighs. He should beg, but he only stays frozen, and you bring your hand up to the face of his helmet, palm splaying along the side, he wishes you’d rip the thing off of him. He wishes he had never taken a Creed at all. Your palm on his face would fix everything, like him filling the hollow place within you. It would all be well if only the two of you could come together. Din knows it.

You lower yourself to perch primly on one thigh, slow like thaw, bringing your knees up to curl into his chest, little socked toes braced against beskar. One hand smoothing up his stomach and chest plate, other curled over the pauldron of his shoulder, you reach the lip of the helmet, close your eyes, and start to lift the weight of it from his face.

“I’m not going to open my eyes. I’m not going to look.”

The rush of hyperspace reflects off your skin in silvers and blues, makes you more dream than girl, and then his face is uncovered, and he listens to the symbol of who he is supposed to be, who he has been all his life, roll from your fingers discarded on the ground, the loud clang of history ringing in his ears, but all he cares about is, “You kept them.” He brushes a thumb, careful of your skin, against the glowing gem of your earring. The way it twinkles and sparks and exists as a monument to your shared history.

“Something shiny to remind me of my shiny.” A tear slides slow and clear down the slope of your cheek, coming to rest at the corner of your mouth, and he watches it quiver and shake there in anticipation, much like his heart does within his chest. You take his face between your hands, animal sound from his tongue, one hand at the curve of his jaw, cradling him like he’d be something precious and fragile if only the two of you let it be so. Not animal, not man, only loved.Your other hand spreads, glides and cups and soothes, his forehead, his brow, little fingertips pressed to the outside dip of his eye socket, running along the rim of bone beneath hot skin. He watches your face, the tear at the corner of your mouth, and you come towards him very slowly, the fold of your hips, stomach, breasts, and then your mouth on his.

And then your mouth on his.

He takes the tear into his mouth, holds it on the surface of his tongue. He could swallow it like he would the pearls. This is enough.

It’s soft as a whisper and then hard. Your nails digging suddenly, scratching and searching for a crack in his surface where you’d find purchase to pull him closer, burrow your way inside. You press your closed mouth hard against his, shoulders hitched high, and he grips the arms of his chair so hard his fingers ache. A sob in your throat that turns into a broken sort of moan, giving him permission to break too.

He circles your waist in his hands, takes hold of the shape of you, and it’s just like in his memories and dreams and nightmares. Hands sliding up the slope of your back through all of that glorious hair, still growing, right to the edge of your tunic covered nape.

“Din.” He swallows the tear. He touches your skin.

You moan for him, mouth shaky and wet, vibrating into him, the tip of your tongue tasting the edge of his lip, and then he’s swallowing you whole. Shifting you further onto himself, the soft round of your bottom over the thick of his lap, tits pressed against his chest, he needs to taste it all, your nails digging so hard into the skin of his face you’ll surely draw blood, and he will surely thank you for it. “Yes.” He says in return, finally, he draws onto your tongue. Full upper lip slotted between his, and it’s wet tongue and sharp teeth and a very dark place you should have never been, too much time wasted, a promise to forget because that’s what you need of him.

He hitches you higher, tighter, forces himself not to take it further, press you too hard. Groans rough and ragged when you whine soft and small. Sucking on your tongue, tugging at your lip. And your hands move to his hair, little fingers wrapped in his curls, dragging down the front of his face, over his eyes and nose, finding the seam of a scar there. “What’s this?” You follow the faultline of old hurt, and he grips your wrist, directs your hand to the other, thicker weave of scar tissue along the back curve of his skull, wanting to show you all the places he was broken that you were not there to mend. “Din,” on a frightened little gasp he soothes away with his tongue along the back of your teeth and the drag of his palm down the slope of your spine, stopping just shy of the curve of your ass.

“Explosion.”

Din, again, Din. You press your fingers along the rough knit flesh, and he feels your tears slide along his own cheek and perch at the corner of his own mouth now.

“It’s okay, little love. I’m here with you.” Tugs you back close and safe and tightly pressed, seam of him woven into the seam of you, mouth to mouth.

“And I understand.” He cups the back of your head, pulls you back, opens you and tastes and tastes and tastes. “I’ll promise to let it go. But you have to promise too.” Changes the angle, the flavor of you still the same, the sound of you still the same, the feel. “That you’ll never do it again.”

“I promise, Din.” It’s enough.

Chapter XII

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