Hold Me Tight - Prologue

Group & Member(s): BTS’ Jungkook 

Genre: Bodyguard!au, angst/fluff

Word Count: 1.4k 

Summary: After a frightening experience, Jungkook vows to make himself your unofficial protector. When his job suddenly becomes much more permanent, he finds the lines between professional and personal feelings blurring.

Jungkook sat on the couch, watching his mother. She was serving tea to the couple that had hired her so many years ago.

Her hands were shaking as she poured the scalding liquid into white china cups, the porcelain clinking as she set it down in front of the distraught woman.

He brought his legs up to his chest, a chill skirting through his small frame. He was inside yet he could still feel the brittle bite of winter that was raging outside. He tugged at his scarf, willing it to warm his body.

“What…what if they hurt her?!” The woman sobbed out. Her husband leaned into her, pressing one palm against her back soothingly. He looked around to the  room full of people - police officers, investigators, and then set his eyes back on his wife.

“They won’t. We’ll get her back” He reassured her, although his voice was shaky and Jungkook could hear the doubt and see it written all over his face.

“It’s been hours since they called…what if they’ve taken her away for good?!” She cried out and at this, one of the investigators stepped in.

“This is how hostage situations normally work. We expect to hear from them within a few hours. They’ll most likely call to demand some sort of ransom” He explained, his voice stern and absolute as if he’s done this before.

Jungkooks eyes flickered all around the room and then back to his mother. She was busy serving the others, she had no time to feel worried although deep within the pit of her stomach she was grateful that he wasn’t taken, too.

But who would take the housekeepers son?

All they wanted was the daughter of one of the wealthiest couples in the city.

And now they had her.

Jungkook squeezed his palms around his legs, frustration and fear building within him. Of all the people…why you?

He didn’t realize he was crying until he heard a voice call out to him.


He looked up to see her, the wife, your mother. She had always been so kind to him and now she was staring right at him.

“Come here, sweetie” She beckoned and he went, wanting nothing more than to just be held and told everything was going to be alright.

He reached her, and his tears started falling faster, his small voice creaking out

“I’m sorry. I should have done something. I should have ran faster” he cried. She engulfs him, bringing him up onto her lap so that she can hold him tighter.

He let the guilt seep out of him, hoping that if he apologized enough, you would magically appear.

“No, Jungkook you did all you could. You got help right away and I am so proud of you for that” She said, her voice a lot more soothing now that she had to be the strong one.

Your father looks around to the others in the room “This is Jungkook. He was with her when she was taken. They were playing in the yard and their ball bounced over the gate. She went and got it and that’s when she was taken. He chased after the van but then ran back and got help”

The main investigator knelt down, peering at Jungkook who was still clutched in your mother’s arms.

“You did a good job, son. Not many 12 years old would be that brave” He said, offering him a small smile.

Except Jungkook didn’t feel proud. He felt terrible.

“No. I should have went to get the ball. If I had gone. She would still be here by now” He sobbed, the tears finding him even more.


He hears his mother’s soft voice call out to him. Your mother released him and he travelled from one woman to the next, his feet feeling as if they were made of lead.

She held him, casting a tearful glance to your mother as she took her sons feeble frame and lifted him up to take him to the small house in the back of the yard in which they resided.

He didn’t fight her on it. Instead, he kept mumbling to himself how terrible he felt, unable to get the sound of your shrill screams as you were whisked away out of his head.


5 days later

His mother found him waiting on the porch steps again. She clutched the warm cup of cocoa in her palms and let out a sigh as she opened the large double doors to see him.

“You’re going to catch a cold out here, Jungkook” She said, worry etched in her voice although she knew there was no sense in trying to get him to come inside.

“I don’t care. As long as she’s still gone, I’m going to sit out here and wait for her” He managed, his jaw locked as a shiver skirted through him.

She handed him the mug and he took it, the warmth soothing his nearly frozen skin the instant he felt it through his worn wool gloves.

“Thank you” he murmured, his eyes not leaving the street. He felt her pull at his scarf, tightening it around his neck

“Come inside when it gets dark” She ordered and he nodded, taking a long sip. He winced as the heat came in contact with his tongue, slightly burning it. But it was a welcome sensation.

He was so cold. But this was his way of punishing himself. There was no way you were alright. So he wouldn’t be alright, either.

He finished the cup within two large gulps, his eyelids suddenly feeling heavier as his gaze scanned the yard again.

He could see little in between the iron gate and the stone fence. But he took what he could get.

He stood up, trying to shake away some of the cold when he heard a car approaching. Looking up, he twisted his face in curiosity. His eyes focused on the gate.

His cheeks flared up when he saw the familiar van approach and come to a screeching halt. The door slid open and some figure he couldn’t see threw a body out of it.

He heard a yelp and watched as the van skidded away, leaving tire tracks and you in its wake.

He bolted, running down the long driveway, slamming the button to the gate and he nearly jumped out of his skin while waiting for it move open.

You twitched a bit, struggling against the ties on your wrists and feet. The cold pavement was unforgiving against your skin that was exposed through large tears in your clothes. The fresh air and light of the day was something you hadn’t seen since you were taken. You squinted your eyes as you looked up at the sky, wondering where you were until you saw him.

Tears filled up Jungkooks eyes as he leaned over you

“Y/N! You’re alright!” he exclaims, his eyes running across your body to see if you were seriously hurt.

“Kookie” you whispered to him through the growing sob as you realized that you were back home and safe again.

“I thought you were gone forver” He said, breathless as he reached to bring you into him. You shivered against him and he immediately shed his scarf his jacket, wrapping them around you as best as he could.

He yelled out as loud as he could, hoping that someone in the house would hear him. He tried to get up to lift you, but he was too weak and so he sat there, screaming until he saw the front door creak open.

You called out to him again and he looked down at you, a smile on his face but a warm stream of tears seeped down his flushed cheeks.

He had prayed for this moment the past 5 days. He didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to see you again, to hear your voice, or to hear your laugh. You were his best friend and he would die inside if you ended up hurt or dead.

But now there you were in his arms and he realized as he held you that this was the first time he ever held you like that and while it was something new, it was something that set his heart on fire. 

He clutched you tighter as he heard everyone from inside approaching with an onslaught of cries and exclamations of joy that you were back home somehow.

He leaned in, his warm breath soothing your cheeks as he whispered.  

“You’re safe now. I’m here. I’m never leaving you, from now on I’ll keep you safe, I promise”

a/n: this one shot is coming soon. Let me know what you think so far, here. I appreciate feedback:) 

Mobile Masterlist

Ive done the sober “thing”. Tried it for years. Even without the drugs and alcohol, It gets tiring trying to keep all the vices under control. Vices are what keep the limitless soul sane in such a limited body… You’ll understand, one day.
—  The person whose eyes seemed weathered far beyond their time

A friend of mine shared this on my newsfeed today and I thought it would a nice idea to repost it here for the Nod Squad.

We are all fully aware of our drug use and with that awareness comes the responsibility towards ourselves and each other to educate about harm reduction, because sometimes sobriety genuinely is not an option and I know that’s true for myself as well as many of you.

So yeah, I won’t harp on harm reduction too often, but I care about you guys.

- garagedad

the signs as historical series

aries: Medici: Masters of Florence
taurus: Magnificent Century: Kosem
gemini: The Tudors
cancer: Victoria
leo: The White Queen
virgo: Reign
libra: The Crown
scorpio: The Empress of China
sagittarius: Versailles
capricorn: The Borgias  
aquarius: Magnificent Century
pisces: The White Princess

An Outside Perspective

I was on the bus earlier today and sat behind this guy who had a can of alcohol that he was sipping from. I didn’t think much of it except how much cheaper alcohol is than dope and that I wouldn’t mind a nice, fat shot of some afghan brown or china white. The guy then gets up to stand in front of the doors so he can get off at the stop we’re approaching when all of a sudden he turns around and lunges towards the window and spews projectile vomit at the cars passing us. Everybody’s staring and I’m so happy I moved down to the seat on the other end of the bus before he sprayed alcohol and stomach juices at everything in front of him. When he’s done, he slams the window closed in frustration and maybe even despair and the second he turns around to walk off the bus and light a cigarette, I realize I know him.

He was this guy I spoke to at my last detox about a year ago. He had scars on his arm from the years he spent self harming and was trying to cleanse himself of alcohol and heroin before it was too late. He acted tough and like he didn’t give a fuck about anything but chilling and having fun with some bottles and blunts. But that was a lie or else he wouldn’t have been in there with me. We never spoke or saw each other again after those few grueling days, but I thought about him every now and again. Not because he was cute or charming or anything like that, but just because he stuck out in my memories. He was different but pretended to be the same.

And when I saw him on that bus, I felt this deep sadness in my chest. Like how awful it must be to be him, to be broken and alone and still so addicted. I remember those feelings and how awful they were. The days and nights I spent dope sick, either rejected from detox or just went AMA, throwing up on trains and buses - just like him, homeless and hurting. It’s been a year and he’s still in the same spot, most likely worse than before.

And me? I’ve been clean for almost a year and I am so grateful for that because living that kind of life isn’t really living at all, it’s just existing with this constant pain and despair. I didn’t want that big shot of dope anymore because nostalgia is a liar. There’s not much good with using dope, it’s mostly just fucked up experiences and vicious cycles that get you nowhere but dead.