#FIRST CHAPTER!!! HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THE RIDE 🥳 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingofbodyrolls · 7 months ago

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My heart's Home (m) | pjm | twenty [epilogue]

🐴Chapter summary: It’s been over two years since you and Jimin’s wedding. Now, a journalist wants to interview you to ask you some questions about a story you’re apparently part of.

🐴Chapter title: Epilogue

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: no much, it is pretty tame, the wildest thing is maybe the description of nursing a baby, so I would say it’s pretty tame + there is one ounce of violence (a slap). But also, mentions of pregnancy, car accident, fire, hurt and anger, but there’s also a lot of love 🥹

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 7.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: hi everyone!!! I’m back with the epilogue/Q&A and it’s been almost a month?? What, how are you guys doing? I hope you’re still excited to read the ending for these lovely characters. It’s filled with some catching up and some much needed answers and truths we’ve been waiting for. Sadly, there weren't as many people participating in the Q&A as I anticipated, but it’s okay— I guess you guys are busy, and that’s okay! I did go through some of your questions from the comments and wrote those in a questions, because there was some that I never really answered, or was being vague about, because I didn’t want to spoil certain things in the story 🤭 But thank you so much to those who participated, I means the world to me 😭💖 Before you read, I want to explain that I wrote this epilogue/Q&A differently like the rest— it reads as a normal chapter, so the questions are weaved into the story, and I inserted myself into the storyline 😂 It was fun, but I really hope that I didn’t make it too weird! It got a bit meta and fourth walling, but I hope it’s okay. It’s just for fun and giggles!! I really hope you enjoy it, please let me know if you did, and thank you so much for reading ✨

Also, I did not proofread this, just because I’m being a bit lazy and I really want to get this out, and write other things 🙂

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

“The eyes of a childSee a long long waySee the future see the pastThey see everything first and last I was that childWho rode these hillsIn my dreams I see the starsIn my dreams I always will Ride these hillsSee in the morningI’ll hear the rain on the shedBut other stars and other sunsets will hang above my headThere will be different places different peopleBut I’ll still be the same” ‘My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Your gaze flits between the secure baby seat nestled within the sturdy confines of Jimin’s truck and the warm, loving and protective gaze of his deep brown eyes, lingering on both with a silent question hanging in the air, “Do you think she’s alright back there on her own?”

His expression softens the moment your eyes meet his, a gentle reassurance emanating from his gaze as he rounds the truck. “Yes, my love,” he murmurs tenderly. “Is she still sleeping?”

With a fluid motion, he swings open the door and slides into the driver’s seat, the familiar click of the key finding its place in the ignition. Yet, instead of bringing the engine to life, he pauses, a moment of quiet anticipation hanging in the air before the journey ahead.

“Yeah, sound asleep,” you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips, your voice a blend of affection and weariness, the result of minimal sleep but an abundance of love—the kind that fills every tired corner of your being.

You steal a glance at your baby girl, nestled in serene slumber, her cherubic cheeks a mirror image of Jimin’s, her eyelids dancing with the rhythm of her gentle breaths. In this tranquil moment, her chest rises and falls in perfect harmony, a testament to the peace that envelops her. Despite the occasional cries born of hunger or discomfort, in these quiet moments, she embodies pure innocence and unfathomable cuteness.

She’s just a tiny two-month-old bundle of joy, still finding her way in the world—it’s only natural for her to fuss now and then. You press a delicate kiss to her rosy apple cheeks, ensuring not to disturb her tranquil sleep, before gently closing the door with a soft click. As you circle around the truck, slipping into the passenger’s seat beside Jimin, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for this precious moment of family serenity amidst the hustle of life.

As you settle into your seat, a sudden impulse draws you closer to your husband, leaning across the console to steal a swift yet tender kiss from his lips—it’s a simple gesture, but one that carries the weight of your affection in every fleeting moment. With the engine humming to life beneath his command, the truck eases out of the yard and onto the winding road that leads into the heart of the town.

Heading into town for an interview feels like stepping into a surreal dimension.

The journalist’s call left you bewildered, grappling with the bizarre realization that your seemingly ordinary life isn’t quite what it seems—that it’s woven into some larger narrative that others find intriguing. The initial confusion still lingers, grappling with the surreal notion that your existence, though deeply felt and real to you, is merely a tale spun for others’ consumption.The questions they want to ask blur the lines between reality and fiction, leaving you questioning the very fabric of your existence. It’s a puzzling journey, navigating the complexities of a life that feels real to you, even if it’s just a story to others.

A whirlwind of questions swirls through your mind, each one more perplexing than the last, yet here you are, navigating the familiar main road into town alongside your beloved husband and precious baby—all tangible, all undeniably real in your heart. The comfort of their presence grounds you amidst the confusion, their warmth and solidity reassuring in a world suddenly tinged with uncertainty. Even the sight of the familiar cars ahead and the fleeting reflections in Jimin’s trusty blue truck mirrors offer a sense of continuity, a reassuring thread weaving through the fabric of your reality.

As Jimin guides the car through the winding roads toward town, a gentle melody fills the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. With your baby girl peacefully nestled in slumber, you lean back in your seat, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of the music. Closing your eyes, you allow the soft strains to lull you into a peaceful nap, trusting in Jimin's steady hands to carry you safely onward.

As consciousness slowly seeps back into your awareness, a gentle touch brushes against your cheek, coaxing your eyelids to flutter open. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, your gaze catches sight of a small trickle of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

Rousing from your tranquil repose, a tender touch graces your cheek again, coaxing you gently from the depths of sleep. The soft warmth of your husband’s fingers brings you back to consciousness, accompanied by the endearing whisper of, “Wake up, beautiful.”

Despite the disheveled state of your appearance—drool tracing a path down your chin, eyes bloodshot from the relentless pursuit of precious sleep, and puffy lids resembling the aftermath of a surprise punch—his affectionate words infuse you with a warmth that transcends physical imperfections.

“I’m anything but,” you groan, the words heavy with self-deprecation, as you reach to unclasp your seatbelt, your gaze locking with Jimin’s comforting brown eyes, seeking solace in their warmth.

Cradling your face tenderly in his hands, Jimin’s touch is unwavering, disregarding the drool that lingers on his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, his own expression turning resolute. “To me, you’ll always be beautiful,” he asserts, his words carrying the weight of unwavering devotion. “Drool, puffy eyes, wild hair—it doesn’t matter. You’re perfect just as you are.”

A soft snort escapes you, but you can’t help but smile at his unwavering support. Lately, your self-doubt has been a relentless companion, haunting you with every imperfection and misstep. Yet, in this moment, Jimin’s earnest attempt to uplift you resonates deeply. Swallowing your protests, you offer him a gentle smile, a silent acknowledgment of his efforts. As he steps out of the truck to retrieve the baby seat, a sense of warmth fills the space between you, a silent promise of solidarity in navigating the complexities of parenthood together.

Stepping out of the car, you’re greeted by a heartwarming sight: a sea of familiar faces, friends, and family alike, their smiles beaming like beacons of love amidst the bustling parking lot. Waves of warmth wash over you as you take in the scene, their presence a comforting reminder of the support system that surrounds you on this journey called life.

Amidst the crowd, your gaze locks onto your sister, her once graceful stride now slightly altered by the burgeoning swell of her belly, a testament to the imminent arrival of new life. The closeness of her due date is palpable, casting a glow of anticipation around her. Beside her, Jungkook stands, his hands intertwined with those of their twin daughters, bubbling with youthful exuberance as they approach their second birthday. The scene before you is a vibrant tapestry of love, growth, and the boundless joy that comes with expanding family ties.

As you scan the parking lot, your eyes alight upon Ara and Tae, Soo-ah and Namjoon, Ha-rin and Jin, and Hobi and Yoongi, each couple intertwined in a tender embrace, hands clasped in a silent promise of solidarity. A smile tugs at your lips, a reflexive response to the infectious happiness radiating from your loved ones. The sight of their contentment ignites a warmth within your chest, a swell of love so profound it threatens to burst forth, filling every corner of your being with boundless joy.

With a sense of purpose, you swiftly retrieve your diaper bag, your steps falling in line behind Jimin and the rest of your beloved family as you make your way towards the imposing structure that houses the interview. The anticipation crackles in the air, mingling with the collective energy of your family, propelling you forward into the heart of the momentous occasion.

As you traverse the pristine white halls, the stark minimalism of the surroundings amplifies the gravity of the moment, each step echoing with a sense of purpose. Arriving in the expansive room bathed in soft light, your gaze sweeps across the array of neatly arranged couches and chairs, the anticipation building with every passing moment. Suddenly, your stomach clenches, and your grip on the diaper bag tightens involuntarily as you spot a familiar face across the room. A surge of conflicting emotions washes over you, your lips drawing into a tight frown as your eyes lock onto none other than Deiji.

Your mind races with a barrage of questions, each one more incredulous than the last. Why in the world is she here? How could she possibly be part of this interview too? Seated comfortably on the plush green velour chair, her demeanor exudes an air of calculated poise—her feet crossed neatly, her hair fashioned flawlessly into a high ponytail, every detail meticulously curated from her manicured nails to her impeccably applied makeup. The audacity of her composed smile, paired with her deliberate ignorance of your presence, sends a surge of indignation coursing through you. With a barely concealed scoff, you can’t help but brand her with the only label that seems fitting at this moment: a bona fide bitch.

Your attention shifts to the woman you presume to be the interviewer, her voluminous brown curls framing a face adorned with oversized golden glasses—a quirky yet endearing sight. With a welcoming gesture, she invites you to settle in and make yourself at home. Your eyes sweep over the table adorned with an assortment of beverages, from glasses of water to an array of sodas, teas, and coffee—an offering tailored to every preference. Nestling into the chair beside Jimin, your sleeping baby girl cradled safely nearby, you watch as Jimin delicately places the baby seat at your feet before reaching for a chilled glass of water, the cool condensation a refreshing relief against your fingertips.

As the rest of the gang settles into their seats, anticipation hangs heavy in the air, thick with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. The woman with the oversized glasses offers a warm smile that barely conceals the flicker of apprehension dancing in her eyes. Your gaze drifts to the edges of her notebook, where her fingers fidget nervously, betraying the weight of the questions she undoubtedly holds within its pages.

“Hello, everyone! Thank you all for being here today. I’m absolutely thrilled to have you join us. My name is Lissa, and I’ll be guiding our conversation today. I’ve got a bunch of questions lined up that our readers are itching to hear your answers to. But first things first, how’s everyone doing? And just how long has it been since we saw you last?” Lissa’s voice rings out with genuine warmth, her smile radiant despite the subtle dance of nerves behind her glasses, which threaten to slide down her nose.

“We’re all doing good, thanks for asking,” you reply, a hint of playful skepticism lacing your words. “But as for ‘since we saw you last,’ well, that’s a bit of a puzzler. Our lives didn’t exactly wrap up neatly when your story did, you know?” The chorus of agreement from your companions echoes your sentiment, though a pointed scoff from Deiji punctuates the moment, serving as a stark reminder of lingering tensions.

“Oh, yeah. I get that,” Lissa says and you nod in understanding, observing the woman’s thoughtful pause as she considers her next words. Suddenly, a spark of realization ignites within her, and she bursts forth with newfound clarity. “Since the wedding between you and Jimin,” she announces, prompting a flood of memories to rush back as you mentally trace the timeline of events that have unfolded since that momentous occasion. The weight of time feels suddenly palpable as you ponder just how far you’ve journeyed since then.

“It’s hard to believe, but it’s been just over two incredible years,” your sister’s voice carries a soft undercurrent of awe, her smile radiating warmth as she lovingly caresses her burgeoning belly, a silent testament to the passage of time and the miracles it has wrought.

Lissa’s nod is accompanied by a soft, knowing smile that seems to acknowledge the weight of the question she’s about to pose. Her gaze sweeps over the group, each member holding a unique story within them, waiting to be unveiled. “So, what’s unfolded in your lives since then?” She inquires, her words carrying a sense of anticipation, as if she’s poised on the edge of a grand narrative waiting to unfurl.

As you cast your gaze over the familiar faces of your friends and family, a flood of memories washes over you, a tapestry woven with moments both poignant and joyous. The corners of your lips tug upward in a bittersweet smile, knowing all too well the magnitude of what has transpired since that pivotal day. “A lot has happened,” you begin, your voice laced with a mixture of nostalgia and excitement, “mainly good things—more weddings, new arrivals, and the beautiful chaos of growing families.”

“We tied the knot,” Yoongi interjects, a soft smile gracing his lips as he proudly displays his intertwined hands with Hoseok, the gleaming gold bands adorning their fingers catching the light in a dazzling display of commitment and love.

“It was just a small and intimate wedding,” Hoseok chimes in, his laughter dancing through the air like music, infusing the memory of their wedding day with an infectious warmth.

“Jessi and I had quite the surprise,” Jungkook shares, a chuckle escaping as he recalls the whirlwind of events. “Twins, out of the blue, and before we knew it, she was expecting again,” he adds, a sheepish grin accompanying the gesture of scratching the back of his head.

Jessi straightens, her eyes alight with a newfound excitement. “And this time,” she interjects, her voice brimming with anticipation, “we made sure to get an extra ultrasound. Just one baby this time, and he’s going to be a little boy.”

Their two daughters bounce around with infectious laughter, their giggles filling the room as they dart and weave around their father, vying for his attention with every playful leap and bound. Occasionally, they clamber over him, their small hands reaching out in a bid to capture his focus.

You can’t help but smile, reminiscing about the sheer shock and delight that washed over them when Jessi unexpectedly gave birth to twins. The incredulity of the situation still lingers, leaving you puzzled at how such a miraculous surprise could go unnoticed, even by the hospital staff.

“Seokjin and I,” Ha-rin begins to say with a playful wink, her eyes gleaming with pride as she shares their latest venture with the group. “We’ve taken the plunge into the culinary world—we’re running our very own catering business now,” she announces, the excitement palpable in her voice as she unveils their newest endeavor.

“We’re just enjoying each other’s company,” Namjoon remarks, his fingers intertwining with Soo-ah’s, eliciting a charming blush that paints her cheeks a delightful shade of pink.

“We’re also just taking it slow,” Taehyung chimes in, enfolding Ara in a tender embrace that speaks volumes of their affection.

“My life is good,” As Deiji’s words linger in the air, a heavy silence settles over the group, punctuated only by the soft rustle of shifting emotions. Your eyes narrow involuntarily at her assertion, a flicker of disdain tainting your expression. Memories of her past actions flood your mind, a reminder of the pain and manipulation she once inflicted on Jimin—and by extension, on you. Despite her attempt at casual indifference, the wounds she left behind still linger, a testament to the true depth of her betrayal and you don’t think you’ll be able to forget how much of a bitch she really is.

“That’s quite the journey. So much to unpack,” Lissa muses, her voice tinged with a blend of intrigue and anticipation. She pauses, allowing the weight of the moment to settle before continuing. “I’ve compiled a mix of questions from our readers and some of my own curiosities,” she explains, her gaze flicking down to her notepad briefly before lifting to meet your husband’s eyes with a subtle intensity.

“Jimin,” Lissa’s voice hangs in the air, drawn out slightly as if she’s grappling with the weight of the words inscribed on her paper. “One of our readers,” she continues, her tone delicately balanced between caution and curiosity, “expresses concern about the challenges you’ve put your wife through. They’re wondering what steps you’re planning to take to make amends.”

You turn towards Jimin, the air thick with anticipation as his expression shifts, caught off guard by the weight of the question. His lips part slightly, a silent testament to the thoughts racing through his mind, while the room holds its breath, waiting for his response.

“Well,” Jimin begins, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity as he addresses the room, “I’m fully aware of the pain I’ve caused with my actions and the misunderstandings that ensued. Every day, I’m committed to improving myself, striving to be the husband she deserves. I make it a point to express my gratitude and admiration for her, knowing that it’s the least I can do.” A warm smile graces his lips as he reaches for your hand, drawing it gently across his thigh. The strength and warmth of his touch convey a depth of emotion, his grip tender yet resolute as he intertwines his fingers with yours, a silent vow of his unwavering dedication.

With a soft smile, you shift your gaze towards Lissa, a glimmer of understanding shining in your eyes. “That’s all in the past now,” you affirm, your tone brimming with assurance. “Jimin doesn’t need to prove his love to me—I’ve known it all along. I forgave him a long time ago because our love is stronger than any mistake. We’re focused on moving forward together, embracing the journey ahead to discover our true greatness as a couple.”

Deiji’s scoff cuts through the air, prompting an exasperated roll of your eyes. Once again, you find yourself questioning her presence—why exactly is she even here?

“That’s wonderful to hear. I think that’s important,” Lissa interjects, her voice filled with genuine warmth and sincerity. A sudden shimmer in her eyes catches your attention, like glistening dewdrops on petals at dawn, revealing a depth of emotion akin to that of a proud mother watching her children thrive.

“Now, I have a question that might tread into uncomfortable territory,” Lissa begins, her gaze momentarily locking with yours before she shifts her focus downward, her nervousness palpable as she anxiously nibbles on her bottom lip.

Lissa’s cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson, the color spreading to the tips of her ears as she bravely lifts her gaze, her question hanging in the air like an electric charge. “Which brother do you think is best in bed?” She blurts out, her voice carrying a mix of trepidation and curiosity.

Your throat tightens, a sudden rush of disbelief threatening to choke you as you struggle to process Lissa’s audacious question. With eyes wide as saucers, you find yourself grappling with the sheer incredulity of her inquiry—could someone truly be bold enough to pose such a personal query? And why would the readers want to know that?

A sense of discomfort settles over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating any inclination to respond. With both Jimin and Jungkook within earshot, not to mention the rest of the company, the last thing you want is to entertain such a personal inquiry.

“Jimin won’t be hurt when you confirm it’s me,” Jungkook boasts with a hint of swagger, his words dripping with playful confidence. However, his bravado is swiftly met with a sharp glare from your sister, her jab to his ribs serving as a silent warning against his overzealous assertion.

You anticipate Jimin’s tension, bracing for the subtle shift in his demeanor, but to your surprise, he remains remarkably at ease, a picture of calm beside you. His tranquility mirrors that of your sleeping baby girl, nestled contentedly in her seat beside you.

“If I’m being completely honest, it’s my husband, Jimin,” you admit, a sense of relief washing over you as the truth spills from your lips. The mere thought of anything beyond your bond with him feels inconceivable, a testament to the strength of your bond. With a soft chuckle, you give Jimin’s hand a reassuring squeeze, grateful for his unwavering presence by your side.

Lissa offers you a sympathetic smile, though her flustered expression betrays lingering nerves, hinting that the next question may be just as probing as the last.

“That leads me to the next question. What where you thinking when you fucked Jungkook?”

You release a heavy sigh, your eyes rolling in disbelief. “Is this really what people are curious about?” You wonder aloud, your voice tinged with a mix of incredulity and resignation.

Lissa’s nod carries a weight of understanding, her eyes reflecting a hint of apology, as if she empathizes with the discomfort of the question she’s posed.

“I suppose, in hindsight, I wasn’t thinking at all, which was undoubtedly part of the issue,” you concede, a tinge of regret coloring your words. “Honestly, I wish it never happened,” you confess, your frustration with the probing questions bubbling to the surface. Today was certainly not the day you anticipated having to justify your past mistakes.

“Hey, don’t go hurting my feelings now. Just admit I was the best,” Jungkook quips once more, his tone laced with playful banter. You sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement washing over you at his persistence.

“No, Kook, you weren’t the best,” you assert firmly, your words carrying a weight of finality. “This isn’t a competition, and frankly, I think you should be content with the fact that my sister holds you in such high regard and thinks you’re the best fuck. I’ve heard you on multiple occasions now, and that should tell you enough,” you continue, your frustration evident in your tone. “I’ve heard enough on this topic, and for me, Jimin surpasses any comparison.” A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you plead, “Can we please shift gears and explore some other lines of questioning?”

You tenderly reach down for your baby girl, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you realize she’s been peacefully sleeping in her seat for far too long. With gentle hands, you unfasten her belt and lift her into your embrace, cradling her against your chest. You adjust yourself slightly, reclining back to ensure she’s nestled comfortably against you, her tiny form finding solace against the warmth of your bosom.

“Um, I’m afraid there’s one more question,” Lissa interjects hesitantly, her voice tinged with nervousness as she glances down at her notes once more.

“Then let’s hear it,” your sister interjects, her tone firm and resolute, a hint of irritation seeping through as she echoes your own sentiment toward the relentless questioning.

“Jungkook, which sister is best in bed?” The room plunges into a sudden, heavy silence, amplifying Lissa’s timid voice to a jarring level.

Jungkook meets your gaze with a flicker of resolve. “I’m sorry if this hurts, but it’s my wife,” he confesses, his words carrying a weight of honesty amidst the tension in the room.

You chuckle softly, the sound carrying a hint of lightness amidst the heavy atmosphere. “You’re not hurting my feelings, Kook,” you assure him with a reassuring smile.

Jimin’s chuckle joins yours, a familiar reassurance in the midst of an uncomfortable moment. This topic, though fraught with history, is one you’ve all navigated together before. Yet, beneath the surface, a pang of regret lingers, a reminder of the choices made in the past. You can’t help but feel a twinge of sorrow for the choice made that night, for not giving Jimin the opportunity he deserved, and instead sleeping with his brother. But as you glance at him now, your soulmate by your side, you find solace in the knowledge that history led you to where you are today.

“Alright, my apologies. That concludes the line of inappropriate inquiries,” Lissa announces, redirecting her gaze back to you and Jimin. “On a lighter note, our readers are curious: How many kids do you envision having?”

Jimin’s smile widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, a gesture filled with warmth and reassurance. The prospect of children has been a frequent topic of discussion since your wedding day, and now, with your first child in your arms, you feel a surge of fulfillment—a sense of readiness to embrace the journey of motherhood even more.

“We’re still figuring it out. But we’ve always talked about having more than one, haven’t we?” Jimin’s gaze meets yours, a soft glimmer of affection dancing in his eyes, mirroring the unspoken bond between you.

“Yeah, two sounds perfect. Although, who knows? Maybe even more,” you muse, a fond smile gracing your lips as you envision the possibility of a larger family. “Our daughter is an absolute delight, taking after Jimin in the most adorable ways. The thought of more little Jimin look-alikes running around fills my heart with such joy,” you share, your voice tinged with affection. You choose not to dwell on the exhaustion or the moments of self-doubt, knowing that with Jimin by your side, you’re capable of anything—and that includes expanding your family and embracing the journey of parenthood together.

As you feel your baby girl stirring, her delicate eyes fluttering open with a soft whimper, you instinctively gather her close, cradling her against your chest. Sensing her hunger, you gently lift your shirt and unhook your bra, offering her the nourishment she seeks. With practiced ease, you guide her to your breast, feeling her tiny mouth eagerly latch on as she finds comfort in the familiar warmth and sustenance. As she begins to nurse, her cries gradually subside, replaced by a sense of contentment and peace, her small form relaxing against you as she drinks in the nourishing embrace of you.

“Have you settled on a name for her yet? I’ve noticed you don’t refer to her by name,” Lissa inquires, her gaze meeting yours with a gentle warmth reflected in her soft smile.

“We’re still undecided. Right now, we’re torn between Haneul and Isuel,” you share, a laugh bubbling up from within you as you exchange a glance with Jimin. Your smile stretches wide, the joy of the moment evident in your expression.

“Both of those are absolutely beautiful choices,” Lissa remarks, her own smile widening in genuine admiration.

“What’s your stance on pets, do you want one? Are you more inclined towards cats or dogs?” Lissa inquires, settling back into her chair with a newfound ease. Her earlier nervousness seems to dissipate, replaced by a sense of confidence that infuses her voice with a newfound steadiness.

“We’ve actually been frequenting the local animal shelter lately, eyeing some of the pups,” Jimin shares, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.

“But just one dog will do,” you interject with a chuckle, a fondness evident in your tone. You know Jimin’s affinity for dogs all too well—if it were solely up to him, your home would resemble a bustling kennel alongside a lively soccer team of children.

“Yeah, there’s this golden retriever at the shelter. We’ve got our hearts set on adopting him,” Jimin announces proudly, his gaze alternating between you and your baby still nestled against you.

“Saja, that’s his name. I just know he’ll be the perfect addition to our family,” you chime in, your voice brimming with affection as you steal a glance at your husband once more. There’s an undeniable warmth in your gaze, a testament to the endless love you hold for him.

“That’s intriguing. I’m nearing the end of my inquiries. This one’s directed at Taehyung,” Lissa announces, her gaze shifting towards Taehyung who appears taken aback, clearly not anticipating any questions directed his way today. “Our readers are curious about your activities during your initial visit to Bell Ranch—the one that unfortunately resulted in Jessi’s accident,” she explains, her tone gentle yet probing.

As Taehyung gulps audibly, the weight of the past looms heavy in the air, a stark reminder that despite the passage of years, the wounds from that incident remain tender for everyone involved.

Taehyung’s hand instinctively rises to scratch the back of his head, his gaze dropping to the floor below in a display of nervous tension.

“That was right after my father fell ill, and I discovered he wasn’t my biological father,” Taehyung begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and remorse. “I drove out here to see my half-brothers—I never imagined it could be true. Having brothers, another family I never knew existed. It’s been quite the journey. Challenging at first, but everyone has been incredibly welcoming, and now, I truly feel like a part of this family,” he explains, his words carrying the weight of sincerity. “I still carry deep regret for causing the accident, Jessi. It was never my intention. I was consumed by nerves and anger, a dangerous combination behind the wheel. I’m truly sorry.”

Lissa and everyone else nods.

“I drove up to the ranch and spotted both Jungkook and Jimin hard at work, but fear held me back from saying a word. I left, like a coward,” Taehyung admits, his voice tinged with regret as he recounts the memory. “For months, I wrestled with the daunting task of revealing myself, gathering the courage to step into a world I never knew existed. I had a hunch they were unaware of my existence too,” he adds, his smile carrying a bittersweet tinge of longing and acceptance.

“Thanks, Tae. But you know, we’re past that now,” your sister reassures him with a warm smile, her words carrying a gentle reminder that their past grievances have long been resolved.

Lissa’s smile softens into one of fondness. “I have two final questions that’s been burning on our readers’ minds,” she says, her tone hinting at the anticipation of unveiling something intriguing.

All eyes shift expectantly toward Lissa, the air thick with curiosity. With your baby girl finished feeding, you carefully adjust your shirt and lift her to your shoulder, patting her back to coax out the remaining burps. As she emits soft little sounds, you join the others in eagerly awaiting Lissa’s final question, a sense of anticipation hanging palpably in the air.

Lissa’s gaze flicks toward Deiji, a subtle shift that catches your attention, leaving you puzzled as to the sudden focus on her. With a quizzical expression, you arch an eyebrow, silently questioning the reason behind this unexpected gesture.

“Deiji, you misled us about the baby, claiming it was Jimin’s. Can you shed light on why?” Lissa’s tone holds a firmness that demands clarity.

Deiji’s head shakes firmly.

“I’d rather not say.” Her refusal carries an air of guarded secrecy, adding to the tension in the room.

Your blood churns with a mixture of anger and exhaustion. The truth seems elusive, buried beneath layers of deceit and manipulation. At this point, you’re past caring about her reasons; all that matters is the weight of her deception, pressing down on your patience like an unbearable burden.

Lissa’s voice cuts through the air with a sharp edge, commanding attention and respect. “You don’t get to evade this,” she asserts, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Deiji’s demeanor shifts, her body language a defensive barrier against the intensity of the moment, her arms wrapping around herself as if to shield against the barrage of questions and accusations.

“Fine,” she hisses, the word escaping through clenched teeth like a snake’s warning, her frustration evident in the sharpness of her tone and the subtle grit of her teeth.

“I was cheating on Jimin with my ex,” she confesses, her words dripping with shame and regret, each syllable heavier than the last. “He got me pregnant, and I knew Jimin wanted to start a family. But my ex... he’s not exactly father material,” she admits, her voice steady yet laden with the weight of her past mistakes.

“But why lie? Why not just tell the truth?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone laced with disbelief and hurt. His jaw clenches, knuckles white with the force of his grip.

Deiji scoffs, her breath heavy with frustration. “And what? Confess that I was cheating on you?” She shakes her head, her tone tinged with defiance. “Would you have wanted a child that wasn’t yours?”

Jimin rolls his eyes, a subtle gesture belied by the storm in his gaze. Despite the passage of years, the wounds of deception still sting as freshly as if inflicted yesterday. You understand his sentiment well: Jimin’s desire for involvement stemmed from a sense of duty and biological connection. Had Deiji been forthright from the beginning, he likely would have distanced himself from the child, especially considering their breakup and his commitment to you.

“It was easy. And I saw how you looked at her,” she points to you, her accusation slicing through the air like a dagger, “I knew you wanted her, bad. She took you from me. Coming back and announcing the baby, I knew I had you wrapped around my finger. I knew you’d choose a family, because you crave it so much. I hoped it would pull you away from her, and in the end, it did. But then you had to go back to each other again, so sickening.”

Jimin gapes, and so do you. You’re left speechless, grappling with the audacity of her words. You knew she lied out of jealousy, but to stoop so low— it’s beyond comprehension. God, you really despise this woman.

Lissa’s voice cuts through the air like a blade, her gaze fixed intently on Deiji again, her expression serious and unyielding. “Is this why you started the fire at Bora Ranch?” She demands, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the tense silence that follows.

A heavy silence descends upon the room once more, amplifying the tension as all eyes remain fixed on Deiji, who squirms uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Your brows furrow in concern as you observe her growing unease, noting the absence of any denial in her response. A sense of foreboding creeps over you as her fidgeting and nervous perspiration betray an unsettling truth: guilt hangs palpably in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

Deiji’s gaze averts, seeking refuge from the intensity of the scrutiny bearing down upon her. In this vulnerable moment, her once formidable demeanor begins to falter, unraveling before your eyes. The weight of accusatory stares renders her diminutive and fragile, a stark contrast to her usual air of confidence and strength.

“So?” Lissa’s voice cuts through the heavy silence once more, her tone firm and resolute, leaving no room for evasion or avoidance. With a piercing gaze, she awaits Deiji’s response, her expectation palpable in the charged atmosphere of the room.

As the seconds tick by stretching into minutes, each one laden with unspoken tension, Deiji’s continued silence becomes increasingly conspicuous. With each passing moment, the weight of uncertainty grows heavier, casting a shadow of doubt over the room. Your mind races, grappling with the unsettling realization that perhaps your suspicions were warranted all along. The absence of a denial speaks volumes, echoing your darkest fears with haunting clarity. You never wanted to entertain the possibility that Deiji could be capable of such an act, yet the chilling reality dawns upon you: people can harbor unfathomable depths, their actions often defying comprehension.

The seconds drag on, and a simmering anger begins to bubble within you, its intensity mirrored in the heightened tension radiating throughout the room. Each passing moment feels like an eternity, the palpable weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air. You sense the collective unease of those around you, their alertness a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. The once-airy atmosphere now feels suffocatingly dense, pressing down upon you like a heavy shroud. It becomes increasingly difficult to draw a full breath, as if the admission of truth from Deiji has robbed the room of its oxygen.

“Just tell the truth, dammit!” Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension like a thunderclap, his frustration palpable in the rigid set of his jaw and the clenched fists at his sides.

His sudden outburst startles you, your heart racing as you instinctively check if it has disturbed your sleeping baby. Thankfully, she remains undisturbed, cradled in peaceful slumber.

“I…” Deiji’s voice wavers, her expression a tumult of emotions—shame, guilt, and a flicker of disappointment, etched vividly across her features.

“I did,” she finally confesses, her voice barely above a whisper, shattering the silence like glass.

You rise from your seat, gently passing your baby girl into Jimin's waiting arms. With a sense of purpose, you approach Deiji, once a formidable presence, now visibly diminished in her chair.

Your blood is boiling, rage surging through your veins like a torrential river, and the world blurs into shades of red.

Standing before Deiji, she gazes at you with pleading eyes, as if begging for absolution. But forgiveness is a distant echo in your mind, drowned out by the roar of fury. Without conscious thought, your arm swings wide, propelled by an instinctual force, and your palm connects with the tender flesh of her cheek. The resounding crack of the slap is so fucking loud it reverberates through the room, jolting you into the stark realization that it was your hand delivering the blow.

Your hand throbs with the heat of the impact, a fiery reminder of the force unleashed.

Deiji’s silent tears blur the air, her trembling hand tenderly grazing the fiery red imprint on her cheek. Ordinarily, violence is an alien language to your spirit, but in the presence of this woman, it’s as if your very essence is twisted into a dark, unrecognizable form.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there’s a raw truth: you feel no remorse for the eruption of fury that crossed the boundary into violence.

“You fucking bitch! How dare you do that! First, you rip Jimin’s heart to shreds with your deceitful, conniving ways. Then, you have the audacity to torch my home?!” The words tear from your throat, a primal scream echoing through the room, stirring the air like a tempest. Behind you, the scrape of chairs signals the tense energy of your friends and family, witnesses to your unleashed wrath. With eyes ablaze, you fixate on Deiji, your voice a snarl, a wild beast ready to pounce. You want her to feel your pain, to taste the bitterness that consumed you in those dark hours.

As you seethe with anger, ready to unleash another torrent of fury upon Deiji, a pair of firm, reassuring arms envelop you.

Instinctively, you lean into the embrace, finding solace in the strength of Jungkook and Yoongi. Their presence is a grounding force amidst the storm raging within you, a reminder that you’re not alone in this tempest of emotions. With their silent support, you draw a steadying breath, the heat of your rage tempered by their calming presence.

As your pulse thrums with the remnants of anger, Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tempest, a calm amidst the chaos, “She’s not worth it.” His words, though soft, carry a weight of wisdom, a reminder that your fury, however justified, only serves to empower the very source of your pain. With a gentle yet firm grip on your arm, he silently implores you to find solace in restraint, to withhold the tempest brewing within. In his touch, there’s a silent reassurance, a shared understanding that some battles are won not through violence, but through the resilience of spirit.

“She’ll get what’s coming to her,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade, his tone harboring a quiet determination. With a shake of his head, he offers a silent vow, a promise that justice will find its way to Deiji, no matter the winding path it takes. In his words, there’s a resolve, an unwavering belief that the scales of fate will tip in favor of righteousness, even amidst the chaos of betrayal.

You shift your gaze to Jimin, who remains seated with your baby, his expression a mix of concern and unwavering support. His calm demeanor provides a stable anchor amidst the storm brewing within you. Meanwhile, your sister’s fury is palpable, evident in the set of her jaw and the intensity of her focus on her twins, corralling their energy in the bustling room.

“I’ve called the police,” Lissa declares, rising from her seat with purpose, her steps deliberate as she strides towards Deiji, her demeanor a blend of resolve and determination.

“I’m really disappointed in you, why would you even do such a thing? That’s so horrible.”

Tears continue to cascade down Deiji’s cheeks, her sobs echoing in the tense silence of the room, her once-fierce demeanor now shattered like glass. “I was consumed by jealousy, alright?” She confesses through choked breaths, her gaze shifting towards Jimin. “You have everything, and I despise both of you for it. I wanted her to feel the pain you inflicted on me, Jimin.”

Jimin’s breath catches in his throat, the weight of Deiji’s words hitting him like a wrecking ball. He carries the burden of knowing he inflicted deep wounds upon her, using her as a pawn in a twisted game of revenge against you. It’s a bitter truth he’s forced to swallow, a regret that gnaws at him relentlessly. If only he could rewrite the past, erase the pain he caused, he would never have entangled himself with Deiji in the first place.

“You hope you rot in prison,” you utter, your voice slicing through the air like a blade, cold and unyielding, the words heavy with the weight of betrayal and fury. With Yoongi and Jungkook guiding you back to your seat, you struggle to quell the tempest raging within you, fighting to regain control amidst the tumult of emotions.

You draw in slow, deliberate breaths, first through your nose, then out through your mouth, a rhythmical dance of inhales and exhales in a bid to rein in the storm raging within your chest. With each expulsion of air, you feel the seething anger gradually ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm determination settling over you like a comforting shroud.

Time seems to stand still in the aftermath of the revelation, an eerie silence wrapping around the room like a heavy blanket. The weight of what has transpired hangs in the air, palpable and stifling, leaving everyone in a stunned stupor. Then, with a jolt, the doors burst open, and two uniformed police officers stride in, their presence a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Without a word, they approach Deiji, escorting her away, her departure marking the end of a tumultuous chapter and the beginning of a new one.

As you witness her being led away, an unexpected sense of liberation washes over you, as if a weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying has suddenly been lifted. It’s a curious sensation, almost buoyant, as if the air around you has become easier to breathe. A fleeting but unmistakable feeling of relief floods your chest, and you can’t help but feel strangely lighter, as if the darkness that once loomed over you has finally begun to dissipate.

“I’m deeply sorry. I knew all along that she set fire to your place, but as the writer, my hands were tied. I couldn’t reveal the truth to you. But please know, I’m truly sorry for what she did to you,” Lissa’s voice trembles with remorse, her face etched with genuine regret. She extends her arms, enveloping you in a warm, reassuring hug, her hands gently patting your back in a gesture of solace and understanding.

“I’ve wanted to tell you countless times,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face like silent rivers of regret.

“I get it. It wasn’t part of my narrative and story until now,” you reply, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips as tears blur your vision. You notice the collective emotional weight shared by everyone in the room.

“Thank you so much for creating me and bringing me to life,” you say, your voice thick with gratitude, as tears blur your vision, lending a poignant weight to your words.

Lissa shakes her head against your shoulder, her voice muffled by emotion. “No, thank you for letting me create you. You’ve been my canvas, a safe space where I could pour out my feelings—sadness, anger, pain, and happiness. Truly, thank you.”

You all embrace each other one last time, tears mingling with laughter, a symphony of emotions filling the room. It’s a beautiful, bittersweet moment, etched into your hearts as a testament to the bonds you’ve forged and the journey you’ve undertaken together. This moment, and all the ones before, you know, are truly special.

How are you feeling? 🥹 Yes, I’m crying. I hope this Q&A wasn’t too weird! If you still have some question, or didn’t get to participate in the Q&A when it was live, you are also more than welcome to send in an ask with questions for the characters— they will still reply in an ask 🙂

Thank you so much for reading this story and series, I know it’s massive. These characters are like my babies, they are very special to me, and I feel sad that the story is over. But I’m so happy with what I’ve achieve, and truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for reading and for commenting ✨

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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dlea203 · 1 year ago

Text

5 years - Hannix AU

A/N: Alright, we’re at chapter ten, everybody 🥳! And with that, we’ve reached the temporary end of this story (emphasis on temporary!). Wow, what a journey it’s been, for both the characters in this story, and for me… this last year has been wonderful/magical/extraordinary/*name any positive English adjective that exists* and difficult/challenging all at once. From physical discomfort to many feelings, to emotional turmoils, to ups and downs… Luckily, I’ve been blessed to meet some of the nicest/kindest/purest souls that grace this earth with their presence. And I’m so immensely proud that I get to call these people my friends 🥹. They’ve brightened up my life and continue to do so every single day. You guys know who you are, and I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done for me so far and what you keep doing!

But every good thing comes to an end eventually, and it’s not different with this story. 5 years has proven to be a very educational project with all its ups and downs. I’ve had days/weeks/even months where the writer’s block has hit me harder than I wanted. I’ve looked at these pages several times and wondered: How the fuck am I ever gonna bring this to an end?! Well, I managed, and that is due to my wonderful readers who’ve encouraged me to go on. To try again and again and again. Your comments, reblogs and likes have made me continue and somehow believe in myself and that I can finish this, so that we all get a little closure (and the characters too, obviously 😉).

As you’ve probably noticed, this chapter will be posted in two posts (first the flashback scene and then the “present time”). Why? Because otherwise the post would be too long😅.

ANYWAY, I should stop rambling so much. This chapter has its usual warnings like lots of fluff and angst, but it also comes with a HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING about graphic depiction of violence and injuries, attempted sexual assault (not too graphic), brutality, captivation and imprisoning of a main character, etc. (I can’t name them all off the top of my head, so I’m sorry if I missed something)! So please, all minors and everyone who gets triggered by any of these themes, please DO NOT READ the flashback scene (aka the first post!) and the first part of the present time! You can start the story where the POV changes into the second scene of present time (It’s marked with a reader-safe section separator).

I’m not taking any responsibility for psychological damage that can be caused by reading the flashback scene/first part of the present time if you’re not 18+ or if you get triggered by the themes mentioned.

I’m also not intending to offend anyone by the way I portray the “enemy” in this story. Everything regarding the topic Afghanistan/its inhabitants/its government up to now, in this chapter and in the future (if there is one for this story) are to be filed under the creative-liberty-section! I’m not intending to make any political statements or to judge in a moral sense. I’m sorry nonetheless if someone feels offended. I can assure you it wasn’t my intention.

Now, enjoy (although it’s probably a bit outrageous to phrase it like that 😅😬) the (temporary) last chapter of 5 years and THANK YOU to everyone who’s been on this ride with me! It was a blast, and I hope to continue writing for Hannix in the future.

Take care everyone and lots of love, your Daria 🥰

Taglist: @callsignstingray @sweetwhispersofchaos

Previous chapter

Chapter Ten - part one

August 19th, one year ago…

Jake hadn’t known that brutality like this existed on this planet. He’d never seen people with this few humanity in them like the men he was sitting across from right now as the truck sped through the desert. They laughed devilishly, enjoying their victory, and counting the loot they had snatched today. They were neither mourning the men they’d lost nor regretting their actions just a little bit. Jake was disgusted, and that is the understatement of the century. He kept his head down, fighting the tears that were trying to make their way out of his eyes to deal with what he’d seen today.

He'd never get these images out of his mind. Jake wished that he was part of a horror show, that someone would call “Cut!” any moment and he’d get to see the cameras to be reminded that this wasn’t real. Except that it was. This wasn’t a film. It was reality. And it was irreversible…

*-*

The day started normal. The men and boys went to the fields, the women stayed in the village, doing laundry and looking after the kids who weren’t in school. It was a day like any other in the Afghan desert. Except that Jake stayed in the village too, today. He made a few repairs to the houses of the village, especially on the roofs. A quite nasty earthquake had shaken the villagers out of their sleep last night and made some damages to the houses. Jake and the women tried their best to fix the damages, so that no one would get hurt.

But about two hours after the day had started, nothing was normal anymore. As if the earthquake was supposed to be a bad sign, the village got raided that day, but not by the protection money collectors. No, this was a different group of Taliban men. Much more brutal and heartless.

They sped along the gravel road but stopped at the fields. Because the villagers had heard them too late, they weren’t able to get back to the village in time, so they looked up from their work, confused. The Taliban climbed out of their trucks, pointed their loaded guns at the men and started shooting them down. Bodies dropped left and right, the fields getting soaked with innocent blood. Among the victims: Jahan and Lianh.

In the village, the women and kids heard the gun shots coming from the fields. Everyone looked at one another, confused and with panic rising within them.

“Are those gunshots?”, Zahra asked in Afghan, grabbing her mother’s hand.

“Those are coming from the fields”, Jake stated dryly, already knowing that it was too late for the men and boys on the fields and fearing the worst for the village.

He’d recognize these sounds from miles away. Years of being in the military did that to you. He dropped the tools and ran out in front of the Sayyid house, yelling through the village that there were gunshots coming from the fields and that everyone should get into their house immediately. Amira’s face turned snow white, and everyone started screaming. The women hurried the kids into the houses, trying in vain to lock the doors. But it was all for nothing. Minutes after the gunshots stopped on the fields, various trucks came to a stop in the middle of the village, the Taliban men jumping out and shooting around, not caring who they caught with their bullets. They hollered things Jake didn’t understand and broke into the houses, shooting everyone inside.

Jake hid in the wall closet, as he always did, because muscle memory took over at this point. Amira wanted to run into one of the rooms at the back to protect Aarian, but she didn’t get there in time. Three men broke down the door, pointing their guns at her and Zahra, shouting that they wanted money and valuables. One man walked straight into the back rooms, collecting everything valuable he found. Then, they heard a scream and shot, before something heavy dropped to the floor. Aarian. The other two grabbed Zahra and pressed her face down onto the kitchen table, laughing devilishly and tried to push her skirts up, reaching underneath. She screamed, doing her best to defend herself, but she didn’t stand a chance. Amira wanted to help her, but the second man rammed her head onto the stove and pushed her onto the ground in the corner. Jake balled his fists. Zahra’s screams burned themselves into the depth of his mind. He rammed his shoulder into the door of the closet to open it and immediately threw his whole weight into the man who held Zahra’s arms and had pushed Amira into the corner of the kitchen. The man stumbled and hit his head on the stove as well, going down at least for the moment. Jake tore the other one off Zahra, closed his arms around his neck and tried to strangle him. Zahra pushed her skirts back down, a look of naked panic and shock on her face.

“Zahra, get out of here! Run!”, Jake screamed at her, while he fought with the offender.

Zahra stumbled backwards towards the door and wanted to run out, but the third man who’d killed Aarian darted after her, raised his gun and shot her straight in the head. Zahra dropped down on the threshold.

“No!”

Jake had never before screamed this loudly in his life. He closed his arms even tighter around the bastard’s throat and twisted them, snapping his neck. Then, he jumped onto Zahra’s and Aarian’s murderer. They fought for the gun, crashing into walls and the table in the process. Jake almost had him, but the third man stood up from the ground and then it was two on one. They overpowered him and almost beat him unconscious. When they pressed him down onto the ground, one of the two found Jake’s Dog tags.

“He’s American!”, the man shouted in Afghan, showing the Dog tags to his friend, “Let’s take him with us!”

They tied Jake’s hands up behind his back with a rope and pushed him towards the door. He stumbled over Zahra’s body as his captor nudged him forward. From the corner of his eye, Jake saw that the other one stayed behind and shot Amira in her head, before walking after his friend who pushed Jake towards the trucks. Jake’s heart clenched so tightly that he felt the pain in his ribs.

As they walked up to the vehicles, Jake saw the massacre they had perpetrated. The gravel road and village square were lined with bodies, grown-ups and children. Before he was loaded into one of the trucks, Jake spotted the bodies of Edris and Ava, a few feet away from the school building. Edris’ body lay over Ava’s. He’d wanted to protect his little sister. Jake’s heart dropped into his stomach, and he vomited into the sand next to the truck. His captor slapped him across the face and yelled something in Afghan, probably an insult, but Jake neither cared nor understood. He gave up fighting against his captors. Jake was pushed into the back of the truck, along with various bags full of money and valuables. From there, everything blurred together…

*-*

They’re dead.

It was the only thought Jake was capable of coming up with. He thought about it for hours on end, saw the scenes he’d witnessed in front of his mind’s eye. Zahra, dead on the threshold. She was on the verge of breaking free, but it was snatched from her in the cruelest way. Amira, a loving mother, died while trying to save her children. Edris and Ava, two kids with bright futures ahead, died while trying to protect each other. Aarian, five years old, had his life taken from him before it even started. Jahan and Lianh, hard workers with hearts of gold, murdered for no reason. He didn’t even want to get started on the rest of the villagers. From Babies to children, to women to old men and everything in between, murdered out of pure joy. They were innocent, hadn’t done anything forbidden, except protecting Jake. Their only sin was being good souls. To avoid breaking down in tears in front of the monsters that were his captors, Jake turned his head away to look out at the massive amount of sand they passed. The longer he did, the more tired he got. He didn’t know when exactly, but at one point, his eyes closed, and he dozed off.

He didn’t come back to himself until the truck finally came to a stop. They dragged him out and pushed him forward to an iron gate where two men stood with machine guns. Jake saw a big sign next to the gate: State Prison of Herat.

Zahra had not only taught him how to speak but also how to read Afghan, that’s why he was able to make out what the letters on the sign meant. Zahra… To make the memories vanish, Jake sighed audibly.

Great, now I’ll surely never see my family again, he thought bitterly while the two armed men took him from his captors.

They seemed to negotiate something, but Jake didn’t pay attention. He just let everything happen. They brought him into the main building, checking him over for weapons and throwing him prison clothes. Then he was handcuffed, and they walked him to a different area of the building, past some common rooms where the local prisoners eagerly made fun of him and shouted death threats at him. Jake didn’t care. He stared ahead, expressionless. His will to live had shrunk with every bullet that had been fired in the village.

Eventually, they reached the part of the building where he would be imprisoned for the foreseeable future. After sweeping a glance through the corridor that was lined with cells, which were only separated by bars, he came to a stop in front of an empty cell.

“Get in there!”, one guard yelled and pushed him inside.

Jake fell to his knees and was made to stay like that until they had removed his cuffs. The guards exited the cell and slammed the door shut behind them. Jake dropped his head forward and checked his tunic for the picture of her. He was allowed to keep the tunic with him, although not to wear it. For a moment he’d been afraid they would take it from him when they checked him over. They hadn’t found the picture, luckily. Same for his wedding band, that he immediately added to the chain of his dog tags. He stuffed them back beneath the clothes he had on now and threw the tunic into a corner of his cell.

“Hey there, you okay?”

Jake’s head whipped around to his left where the voice had come from. A man about his age looked through the bars, a curious expression on his face. His English was accent free, which strangely made Jake feel a little more comfortable immediately.

“Yeah, sure. Best day of my life”, Jake deadpanned.

“I figured”, the man laughed, “I mean, who doesn’t want to get imprisoned in here? It’s pure luxury!”

Jake had to smile at that. The man seemed to not have lost his humor, which somehow brought even more comfort.

“I’m Ryan Hessington, by the way”, he introduced himself, trying to squeeze his hand through the bars before giving up and just offering a fist bump through them.

Jake walked over to him and bumped his fist.

“I’m Jake Seresin. Nice to meet you, Ryan.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Jake. Where are you from?”

“Originally from Texas, but I’ve been living in San Diego before I came here. You?”

“From Phoenix in Arizona, baby. Best freakin’ city on this planet!”, Ryan chuckled and pounded onto his heart twice.

Jake’s heart fluttered at Phoenix, but he pushed the thoughts of his wife aside for the moment.

“I dare to doubt that”, Jake countered, smiling sincerely for the first time since this morning.

“Agreed!”, a voice with a British accent sounded over from a few cells down.

“Oh, shut up, Stronski!”, Ryan yelled back, before he looked at Jake again.

“May I present? Marc Stronski from a small town near Everton, that he keeps claiming to be the best city in the world”, Ryan said and rolled his eyes.

“It’s true!”, Marc grinned, offering a salute to Jake.

“It’s not even a city! It’s a small town!”

“Doesn’t matter!”

“Yes, it does! Whatever, moving on.”

Jake chuckled. Ryan grinned and pointed at the cell across from Jake next.

“There we have Kilian Hartmann and next to him is Theo Becker, both from Germany.”

They waved at Jake.

“On the right of Theo, we have Stronski’s british ally, the name’s Daniel White. Next to me is my friend and only remaining pal of my squad, Jared Shaw. But that’s a story for the second date. And next to him, our only remaining French buddy named François Déforel.”

“Salut”, François greeted, as Jared moved out of the way so Jake could nod back at him.

“And that’s it, that’s gonna be your company from now on.”

“Hey! What about me?!”, a Spanish-accented voice spoke up from all the way down the corridor.

“Oh my god, forgive me”, Ryan exclaimed with faux-desperation, which almost made Jake burst into laughter, “I forgot about our Spanish-german double agent! Last but not least, Circo Alcarraz.”

“I will kick your ass as soon as I get a chance, Ryan!”, Circo yelled over, but there was no harm behind his words.

Jake managed to smile genuinely at the men he was imprisoned with. They seemed like pretty cool guys. Maybe that would make this situation a bit more endurable.

“Any questions so far?”, Ryan pulled him out of his thoughts.

“You said François is your only remaining French buddy. What does that mean?”

Ryan’s face got a solemn expression, his eyes turning a shade darker.

“Your cell was the one of Sébastien Maillard. He was taken for interrogation yesterday, but they didn’t bring him back. That means he didn’t get through it…”

“Didn’t get through it?”

Ryan looked at him, his smile a sad one.

“They’re not exactly following the human rights convention when they do their interrogations, to put it lightly.”

Jake nodded, definitely not needing further details. He’d witnessed enough brutality for the day (technically for a lifetime, but it would surely not be over anytime soon).

“God bless him”, Ryan muttered, before shaking his head as if to get rid of the thoughts that ran through his head at the moment.

“Beside the habits of our guards, any other questions?”

“Not for the moment, no. Thank you”, Jake thanked him earnestly.

“Well, you know where to find me if that changes. It’s not like we have much privacy… but I promise we’re not stepping on each other’s toes here. If someone wants to be left in peace, we respect that. Is that okay?”

“Sure, absolutely. Thank you.”

Ryan nodded, before lying down onto his shady mattress. Jake did the same, lying down and staring at the ceiling. His hand brushed over the chain with the dog tags and his wedding band.

Baby, I miss you, he thought, longing for her in his arms.

He wished she would suddenly appear here, for just a minute, so he could take her into his arms and trust, even if only for a moment, that everything would turn out fine.

*-*

The first few days at the prison passed by surprisingly quickly. Jake had to adjust to this new situation, which meant staying in his cell for half of the day and working within the prison for the rest of it. Ryan and the others were kind enough to assist and instruct him though, so that the guards didn’t have too many reasons to punish him. They did punish him anyway, because they liked to demonstrate their power and superiority, but they treated all the prisoners equally. Not making a difference between foreign soldiers and local criminals. The foreign soldiers were kept apart from the locals though because the risk of a bloody fight with fatality was too high. And they couldn’t take that risk, the infrastructure was too old to withstand a riot.

After work, the soldiers were brought back to their cells immediately where lunch or dinner was served.

“They just don’t have any class here”, Ryan joked, “they’re not even letting us eat together!”

Jake laughed. He was glad that the men he was imprisoned with haven’t lost their true personalities due to being here. He remembered one of his instructors at the academy warning them about exactly that…

“If you ever get into the situation where you’re imprisoned by the enemy, you have to do two things… First, adjust to the situation as quickly as possible. Figure out how you can get as comfortable there as possible, whatever measures that includes. Everything is allowed, just do it. Second, lock your personality, and everything that is connected to it, deep within yourself and keep it there. You have to become a shell, hollow and worthless on the inside. Because the enemy will try to figure out how they can break you. And if they find something – no, I rephrase – if you give them something they can break you with, if you give them the weapon to break you with, they sure as hell are gonna use it! Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir!”

Jake had never imagined that he would be in a situation described in that lesson but here he was. He would do exactly what they were asked to in that lesson. Lock his personality - everything that made him Jake - deep into his soul. He’d lock away his girls, where he came from, his friends and family, his passions and interests; everything that separated him from being a robot would disappear into the depth of his soul and would not reappear until he was free again. Or at least, until he was alone in his cell, and the guards weren’t anywhere near. Which proved to be helpful indeed but didn’t get easier the longer he had to keep it up. At least it disappeared into the back of his mind the more time passed but it didn’t get easier. He just kinda got used to it. It became a mandatory habit. Just like turning off his feelings and his mind completely when he was dragged to the interrogation room. Or torture cell, as his new friends told him.

“Whatever happens, whatever they promise you if you cooperate, do not believe them, okay?!”, Ryan had whisper-shouted at him when they’d heard the guards walk down the corridor towards Jake’s cell to get him for his first interrogation.

“Okay.”

“They’re liars! Same goes for the threats they utter! Don’t listen and don’t worry about them! They’re not gonna make them true, how could they? Your family and friends live far away in safety! Remember, Jake, okay?! Always remember that!”

Jake nodded, then he was dragged out of his cell by his arms, and punched in the back when he didn’t get onto his knees immediately. Ryan held onto the bars and looked him deep in the eyes.

“You got this, Jake. Just hold on. For them”, he insisted, watching the guards drag Jake away.

*-*

At first, Jake had thought that working in the burning sun was the worst part of being imprisoned here. He’d assumed that the interrogations wouldn’t be much fun, but he’d thought that the film-cliché of them being the worst wouldn’t be true. Oh boy, was he wrong about that…

The interrogations were hell on earth. The physical as well as the mental part of them. The bastards insulted him as much as they beat him up with their leather belts and fists. His back was covered in red streaks within minutes into the interrogation. But it wasn’t really an interrogation, to be honest. It was rather a monologue by one of the three guards in the room while the other two switched the roles to beat and hit him bloody. The monologue consisted of insults, predictions on what they would do to him, (death) threats for his loved ones at home, and so on…

“You have family?”, he was asked.

Jake didn’t answer and received a punch to the ribs.

“We’ll find them. We will find them and murder them. They will suffer, oh yes… We will make a video and show it to you. How we slit their throats and hang them on a tree!”

The guards laughed, basking in their brutal fantasies. Jake just stared ahead, mind blank and ears as closed off as possible. But the images were created in his head, nonetheless.

The worst ones always came at night, when he was supposed to rest and get new strength to get through the next day. He saw Natasha and Lynn, peacefully dining at the kitchen table, when the door is broken down and the guards enter the house. Natasha jumps up from the table, picking Lynn up into her arms, fleeing behind the kitchen island to grab a knife. She hides Lynn between her legs and the counter, shouting at the men to leave them alone. But the men just laugh at her. She tries to stab one of them, but they’re three and she’s alone with a child to protect. They knock the knife right out of her hands and grab for her and Lynn. She holds onto their daughter, screaming for help. Jake sees the naked panic in her eyes, the same he saw in Zahra’s face right after he’d stopped the bastard from raping her. They’re torn apart. Their cries are like a thousand knives that pierce straight into his soul. Jake is helpless, watching with utter desperation and shock how his wife and daughter are slaughtered right there in their home. In their safe place…

He jolted upright, shaking himself as if that would make those horrible images go away.

Don’t let them get into your head, he reminded himself.

Making sure that no guard was near, he fished the picture of her out of the slit in the wall above his mattress. Her peaceful and happy smile on said picture always grounded him.

“You’re okay”, he whispered to her, gently touching her belly with his index finger.

Oh, how he wished she would reply. Or send him a sign, just one small sign that she was, in fact, okay. That they were both okay. But he was left to trust. No guarantee until he’d be home again to see for himself. If that happened, in the first place. Which was not guaranteed either. And if the same happened to him as to Sébastien before, he’d never find out…

*-*

Days, weeks, eventually months passed. Filled with countless hours of hard work and brutal interrogations. In between, he got to know the stories of his comrades in the cells next to him.

Kilian narrated the story of how him and Theo ended up in the prison of Herat. They were part of a reconnaissance troop from the German military that got hijacked during a tour two years ago about 300 km west from Kabul. Because the Taliban barely had control over said region back then, they drove them all the way through the desert to Herat. Kilian and Theo were separated from the rest of their colleagues, who were partly transported further west to the Iranian border and partly died from their injuries during the journey from Kabul to Herat.

“My childhood friend, Jannis, was amongst the victims”, Kilian mentioned, his voice casual but at the same time laced with suppressed feelings.

Jake pressed his lips together into a tight smile, silently offering his condolences. He knew how much effort it took for Kilian to open up to him. These men were already so used to lock away their personalities that it was more difficult for them than for Jake to find back to themselves in quiet moments like this.

“We grew up together, in a small town between Friedrichshafen and Lindau. That’s in the very southern part of Germany. Almost on board of the Bodensee.”

Jake nodded, although he didn’t have a clue where Kilian’s hometown was supposed to be. He hadn’t been to Germany a lot before. Only twice in his career, and maybe once or twice as a little kid, when his parents were on a business trip and couldn’t leave Caroline and him at home. But on all those occasions he’d never been to the very southern part of Germany. The most southern city he’d been to, is Munich.

“Jannis convinced me to join the military on a professional level. I wasn’t sure if I want that, but he was so excited and fascinated by the Bundeswehr, that he talked non-stop about it in school. Right after we finished our Abitur, we signed up for the training camp and then I finally understood why he loved it so much. It took us a few years, but when we got called up for this tour in Afghanistan, we couldn’t wait to prove to our superiors why we deserved to be where we were… but yeah, now there are some days where I wish I had stayed in Germany and had pursued a normal job.”

Kilian sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

“At least I got to meet some of the most amazing people. The boys were a lot of fun to be around and made this sand-hell a lot more bearable!”

They shared a laugh, with Theo joining in.

“I hope I can go home one day and tell Jannis’ family what a hero he’s been. He fought against his injuries for days… he died about four days before we reached Herat. But I bet he’s better, there where he is now. God bless him”, Kilian murmured, staring into space.

Jake tapped against the bars of his cell twice, signaling his support.

“Amen”, Theo muttered.

*-*

Jake never really talked about what had happened to him. He was grateful and felt honored that the others trusted him and shared their stories with him, but he didn’t feel like talking about that day in the village. The others weren’t offended, luckily. He simply shared some minor information about his time in the village, like that he’d stayed with a nice family and that he’d felt like he was really part of the village by the end. He told them about their hard work on the fields, that they’d shown him how they built their houses, that he’d taught the kids English.

Those memories proved to be helpful during the long days in prison, and especially during the interrogations. Jake was able to shut his mind off and get lost in those memories to get through the agonizing hours.

At one point in time, Ryan reminded him that it was Christmas day. Jake acknowledged this with a nod of his head. A few days later, it was New Year’s Eve. They toasted to each other with their empty cups, everyone wishing for the same thing: going home soon.

That wish was heard, although with a delay of about six months. But it was heard and granted. A united army of American and Afghan forces was able to liberate Herat from the Taliban. They stormed the city at night, including the prison. When the guards heard them coming, they tried to escape through the backdoor, but not without trying to eliminate the inmates before. The imprisoned soldiers were fast asleep, when suddenly a group of guards ran through the corridor and shot into each cell as the dashed past them. Jake was hit by at least two bullets, screaming in pain and trying to press himself against the corner of his cell. He used his mattress as a shield and pressed down onto the wound in his lower left abdomen. But he lost too much blood. Within minutes, he started to fall out of consciousness, the mattress burying him. The last thing he heard was Ryan coughing and calling his name. Then, it was pitch black.

*-*

Jake woke up again in a hospital like room. He was hooked up to a monitor that beeped in a steady tune, indicating a stable heartbeat. On his left he saw an infusion pole with various bags hanging from it. His head pounded and he felt like he’d been run over by a truck. When he tried to sit up, a warm hand gently pushed down on his right shoulder, making him turn his head in that direction. Two sympathetic green-brown eyes met him.

“Maverick?”

Maverick smiled and nodded, gently patting his shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Hangman”, Maverick greeted.

A wave of comfort and relief surged through Jake’s body, and he sunk back into his pillow.

“Where am I? What happened? And what are you doing here?”

“Calm down, Hangman, take it easy”, Maverick ordered softly, “We’re in Germany, on base in Landstuhl. They brought you here a week ago from Afghanistan. You had surgery and were put into an induced coma until now, to give your body time to rest and heal.”

Jake just looked at him.

“And what are you doing here?”

“Captain Mercer called me as soon as you were rescued from that prison in Herat. He told me they would fly you out here to get that surgery done.”

“And then you just came here?”

“Of course.”

“But you’re not my family… Why would they let you see me?”

“Because I told them that I’d sit in front of your door and wait until they get tired of me and let me see you eventually. Luckily, they got sick of me pretty quickly”, Maverick joked, and Jake laughed, immediately wincing at the pain that shot through his body.

“Ah shit, laughing is a bad idea”, he huffed, holding his side.

“Easy, Hangman. Those were two pretty nasty gunshot wounds.”

“It’s good to see you too, Maverick.”

“I’m glad you’re well, according to the circumstances.”

“When can I go home?”

Maverick sighed.

“I’m not your doctor, so I don’t know. But I’ll call him in here, if you want…”

Jake nodded. Maverick got up and walked out of the room for a moment. A few minutes later, he got back inside, Jake’s doctor tagging along with him. They had a good chat; the doctor taking notes of his vitals and reporting how the surgery went. The topic of going home was a bit a tough one, but the doctor made clear that Jake wasn’t allowed to board a plane until the doctor himself allowed it. Which would not be until another week at least.

*-*

Luckily, Jake recovered fast, and that allowed him to board the plane in Frankfurt two and a half weeks after his surgery. When he sat in his seat at the window, staring at the taxiway of Frankfurt’s airport, he couldn’t quite believe that he would really get to go home now. He felt his hands shake a little bit and buried them in his sweater to hide them. In the pocket of his sweater, his fingers touched the picture of her, which made his heart race even more.

“I’m coming home, girls”, he whispered, and felt tears cloud his vision as that statement wasn’t just a wish or a dream anymore.

It was the truth. After five years full of agony and suffering, he was the luckiest man alive.

The flights were neither long nor short enough. When he changed to his connecting flight in Atlanta, he swept his gaze over the people at the airport. He didn’t quite feel at home yet, but these first few minutes on American ground felt even better than he’d expected. When he landed in San Diego and stepped through the sliding doors into the arrival hall, he breathed in deeply and felt his heart calm down a lot.

“Jake!”

A familiar voice reached his ears and he turned into its direction. Maverick waved at him. When Jake stepped up to him, he hugged him tight. Maverick gently patted his back, aware of his scars there. Jake smiled gratefully at him.

“Is she here too?”

“No, but I’ll get you straight home, if that’s alright”, Maverick answered.

Jake nodded, falling into step with his old instructor. They jumped in the car and Maverick let its engine roar to life. They drove in silence for five minutes, before Maverick spoke up, his deep voice almost making him sound like he was grumbling.

“I have to warn you… She doesn’t know. No one does, so don’t be surprised if they react strangely or push you away. I begged Cyclone not to call her, and that the office in Landstuhl shouldn’t call her either. It wouldn’t have been right, after so many years. I hope that’s okay for you… I figured she would rather believe it if she saw it with her own eyes than when someone on the phone told her that you’re still alive and–“

“Mav, it’s fine”, Jake interjected.

“Good. Just, go easy on her. And give her time and space if she needs it.”

“I will.”

Maverick watched him get out of the car hesitantly, kneading his fingers.

“Hey Jake”, Maverick called after him, making Jake turn around and look at him, “good luck. And welcome home.”

“Thank you, Mav. For everything.”

Maverick winked at him, before he turned the car around and left Jake alone in the driveway. The latter clenched his trembling hands together, before taking the final steps up to the door that separated him from his whole world.

#5 years #hannix au #hannix #hangman x phoenix #top gun: maverick #fanfiction #writing

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