I’ve lost a lot of battles, but I’ve never lost sight of the war. My goal is to fight my way to a day when we’re old and gray and she looks at me and says ‘I’m glad you never gave up.’ Until then, I fight. No retreat, baby. No surrender.
Note, this was written with inspiration given by Saitama and Mumen Rider from One Punch Man, one for his strength, the other for his unyielding courage and spirit. My advice is to work hard, breath deep, and never give up.
Beginner(6month daily workout)
Intermediate(12month daily workout)
For those who never give up, who never back down, who made themselves strong as all hell, The Saitama Level, The Master Level
Everday for 3 years
Go ahead, try it, you might be amazed at what you can do.
I will march down an empty street like a ship into the storm. No surrender, no retreat. I will tear down every wall. Just to keep you warm, just to bring you home. I will burn this city down for a diamond in the dust.
Diana paces back and forth as her mind feels as if it might explode. She was furious. How could she let this happen? One of Bruce’s enemies had taken her precious (Y/N) and she wanted to burn down the whole city. (Y/N) was her world, they meant everything to her and she wasn’t about to lose them. Not like Steve, she wouldn’t allow it.
Bruce watches as Diana burns a path in the floor where she’s pacing and he can’t help but feel bad. He knows how much (Y/N) means to her but he needs to keep her calm or she will actually tear apart the whole city. “Diana, you need to calm down.” Bruce states gently which only gets him a deadly glare from the goddess and he would be lying if it didn’t scare him.
“I cannot calm down, Bruce! (Y/N) is out there alone and scared and I am just standing doing nothing to save them.” Diana throws back with anger in her voice, arms beginning to flail, something she did when she was upset, and Bruce knows she’s not mad at him, more at herself.
He can see the frustration and worry etched across her face as she begins to pace the floor once again and he stands from his seat, walking over and placing his hands on her shoulders, stopping her movements. “Diana, I promise we will find them but you barging into the streets will do them no good. I need you to trust me.”
Diana gives a huff of air as she gives a small nod. “I do trust you, Bruce.” She then looks straight into his brown orbs, no emotion clearly shown but he sees fire in her eyes. “But… if you don’t succeed, I will not hesitate to tear down this city.”
Bruce watches as Diana walks away, determination in every step and he gives a sigh, knowing she meant every word.
I will fight till the flag waves white until my dying days, through the bombs and blasts. If your world falls apart, I’d start a riot. If night falls in your heart, I’d light the fire.
Diana was trying so hard to keep her composure. Bruce, Clark, Barry had been helping with the search for (Y/N) but so far, they weren’t having any luck. They had a couple hits from some nearby locations and Diana about ripped down each building but every time, (Y/N) wasn’t there.
They had just come up empty handed once again and Diana sends a swift kick to one of the goons still crawling on the ground, sending him flying into the nearest wall. The team watches with wide eyes as the sound of the wall breaking fills the air and the man lays unconscious on the floor. “Diana…” Bruce begins but she cuts him off by raising a hand, silencing him.
“I’m giving you one last chance, Bruce. I’m getting tired of coming up empty handed.” Diana states, tiredness clear in her voice and she turns on her heel, walking towards the exit of the building. She doesn’t wait up for the rest of the team but hears quick foot steps behind her and she looks next to her seeing Barry.
He sends a small smile her way before nervously looking at the ground. “I’m really sorry, Diana. It must be hard without (Y/N).”
Diana releases a sigh as memories of (Y/N) pop into her mind and all she wants to do is see their smile and hug them tightly, never letting go. “As cheesy as it may sound, (Y/N) is my world. I would do anything for them, even if it meant burning down a whole city.” Diana admits avoiding Barry’s gaze and he gives a small nod.
“I think they know that too.” Barry claims as he sends a warm smile towards the goddess and she turns to him with a sad smile.
“I can only hope they don’t think I’ve given up on them and that they’re still alive.” Barry shakes his head and Diana tilts her head to the side at the action causing his smile to inch up his face.
“(Y/N) is a tough one, they’re alive all right and with that kind of love, I highly doubt they’ve lost hope.” It’s the first time in a while a smile effortlessly grows on her face and she stops, surprising Barry with a tight hug.
He chuckles, quickly wrapping his arms around her as well. “Thank you.”
In the dark, when you sound the alarm We’ll find each other’s arms. For your love, all you are I’d start a riot.
Not long after the exchange with Barry, Bruce had gotten another hit on (Y/N). This time it was in a whole different city and Diana had a whole new level of determination jittering through her body. So, when they arrive at the building, the three superheroes take on the men out in the front before ushering Diana to go inside.
She doesn’t hesitate before rushing in and making quick work of the men guarding the door. She begins to sprint down long hallways, taking out men as she goes while easily blocking the oncoming bullets with her gauntlets and she’s nearly cleared the entire building in record time but there is still no sign of (Y/N).
“(Y/N)!” Diana yells but receives no answer and she feels herself slow down, doubt creeping into her veins. “(Y/N)!” She tries again but this time she hears a faint noise coming from her right. She begins to sprint in that general direction, when several men come into view guarding a door. She runs full speed, sending one crashing through a wall before grabbing her sword and sweeping the rest off their feet with a simple swipe of her sword and a few punches. Her chest heaves with each breath and she turns towards the door noticing the lock on it. She easily breaks it off with her hands before slowly pushing it open. The room in dimly lit almost pitch back and she wills her eyes to adjust. “(Y/N)?” Diana calls out as she holds her breath.
“Diana…” A small voice pipes up and Diana knows that voice from anywhere. (Y/N)’s body slowly emerges from the darkness and Diana’s heart tears. They look skinnier than the last time she saw them, they have multiple bruises and wounds on their body, blood staining their clothes and their eyes have a certain fear in them that she can’t even replicate.
Diana rushes next to (Y/N) gently cupping their bruised face. “By Hera… what did they do to you?” Diana whispers out as she feels tears falling and she desperately yet gently wraps (Y/N) up in her arms.
A sob takes over (Y/N)’s body as they shrink in Diana’s embrace and Diana can only hold their shaking body close. “I-I didn’t know if you’d be able to find me.” (Y/N) chokes out into Diana’s chest and she subconsciously wraps her arms tighter around them.
“No matter where you were, I would have found you.” Diana mumbles into (Y/N)’s matted down hair and they give a shaky breath.
“I want to go home.” (Y/N) whispers out and Diana nods before scooping them up effortlessly in her arms before kissing their temple.
Request: Hi! Here I go again with one more request lol. The reader, Tom and Cillian have been friends for a long time but Cillian knows that Tom has been in love with her since day one but never told anything because he’s afraid to ruin their friendship. So Cillian helps Tom to tell her the truth about his feeling for her and to win her heart.
A/N: this is my absolute favorite picture of these two, so of course I had to use it 😍😍
Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy, and Y/F/N Y/L/N. The three musketeers who did everything together.
The three of you had met at an award show in 2008. And eventually you all worked on a movie together; Inception.
No matter how busy the three of you got, you always made sure to make time for each other. There were monthly movie nights where you’d go to someone’s house and hang out, and there were also bi-annual trips that you would all make together.
There were no secrets between the three of you, except for one.
Tom had been madly in love with you since the moment you met.
Cillian had caught onto it eventually, trying to convince Tom to tell you. Neither knew of your feelings, so Tom refused to ever say anything. No matter what you were his best friend, so a silly crush wasn’t going to come in the way of that.
If only it had just been a crush.
Tom was sure he had missed his chance though, since today you had gotten engaged.
You’d been seeing your soon-to-be husband for 2 years when he asked you to marry him. You’d told him yes, but now you were regretting it.
Your fiancé was practically perfect. He was kind, he was caring, he was romantic, and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But there was one problem.
He wasn’t Tom Hardy. He wasn’t the man you were fiercely in love with.
You were having a small get together at your house today to celebrate your engagement.
After some exchange of pleasantries, you had escaped up to your room.
Once you slammed the door shut, you began pacing back and forth. No matter what you did to calm yourself, you couldn’t help thinking that you were making a horrible mistake. That everything was all wrong.
While you were freaking out inside of your room, Cillian and Tom were arguing on the other side of the door.
“If you don’t tell her now, you’ll never be able to. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life!” Cillian whisper shouted, glaring at his best mate.
“Absolutely not! She just got engaged! I can’t do that to her.” Tom replied, trying to escape back to the living room below.
“Tom, for once in your goddamn life be selfish!” Cillian yelled, catching your attention. “You’re going to go in there and tell her. I don’t care if you don’t want to. I’m not going to watch you tear yourself up over this for the rest of your life! Now go!”
The door burst open then, Cillian all but throwing Tom inside.
“Cillian? Tom? What’s going on?” You asked, pausing in your frantic pacing.
“Tom’s got something he needs to tell you, something he should have said a long time ago.” Cillian told you, pushing Tom closer to you. “Go on Tom.”
“I’m not telling her with you standing there!” Tom spat, shooting daggers at Cillian.
“And I’m not leaving until I hear you tell her. You’ve been backing out of this talk for years, this time there’s no going back.”
“Tell me what?” You asked, looking in between your two best friends in confusion.
“It’s not really your business wether I tell her or not!” Tom fought back, continuing to avoid saying anything to you.
“The hell its not. You two are my best friends, and I’m sick of watching you mope all the time when she’s out with him. If you would have just told her years ago, this wouldn’t even be a problem!” When Tom opened his mouth to retort, you lost it.
“Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?!” You screamed, frustration lacing your words. You were already stressed out, you didn’t need this too.
“I love you!” Tom yelled, turning angrily towards you. You stepped back in shock, air leaving your lungs in a quick gasp. Your mouth was agape, eyes widened as you stared at Tom. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” He continued, much softer this time.
“Why did you never say anything?” You asked, finding your voice a few moments later. Cillian was watching silently from the corner, analyzing your features for any signs.
“I was afraid you’d never feel the same way. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” This only served to make you irrationally angry.
“So you wait until I’m engaged to tell me?!” You yelled again, voice pitched slightly in hysteria. “You had years to say something, but you wait until today? When I’m already freaking out and regretting this engagement?” You were back to pacing, this time wearing a hole in the carpet.
“Wait, why would you be freaking out? Why are you regretting being engaged?” Tom pressed, stepping closer to you in determination.
“Because he’s not you!” You cried out, tears forming in your eyes. Cillian and Tom both froze, eyes wide in surprise. “Because he’ll never be you. Because I’ll never be able to love him like I love you Tom. And I absolutely hate myself for that.”
“What did you expect to happen when you told me? Did you think I’d just drop everything for you? I can’t just throw the past two years away because you suddenly think it’s a good time to tell me you love me Tom. You’re a proper arse Tom Hardy.” You were beyond frustrated, tears leaking from your eyes and falling down your cheeks.
Here was the man you loved more than anything telling you he was in love with you, but it was too late. Your heart felt completely shattered in your chest.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry, ok? I never wanted to hurt you, especially not like this. But a part of me hoped that you’d do just that; drop everything and come with me.”
“Go.” Your fiancé spoke up, shocking everyone in the room as he cut you off. You hadn’t noticed he was there, no one had. “I always knew that you could never love me like you could him. I just want you to be happy. He makes you happy. Go with him.”
“No Y/N. I rushed you into this. I was in such a hurry to settle down, and you just happened to walk into my life. We never could have really made each other happy. And that’s ok. I made a really great friend out of this, I don’t regret anything.” He spoke sincerely, causing a few more tears to fall from your eyes. “I’ll find someone else, so don’t worry about me. But you already found your person, I’m not going to be the reason you aren’t with him anymore. I could never live with that.”
“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling him into a hug and giving him a short kiss.
“Sneak out the back. I’ll explain everything to our guests.” He smiled, winking as he disappeared through the door.
After he was gone, you turned to Tom and practically flung yourself at him. He easily caught you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.
“I never thought this would ever happen.” You mumbled against his chest, fingers digging gently into his shoulders.
“Neither did I. But I’m glad it did.” Tom murmured back, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head.
“You’re still a dick.” You told him, pulling away and wiping any remaining tears.
“Ehem. I’m still waiting for my thank you.” Cillian spoke, a smug smile on his face. Tom and you looked over at him, playful glares on your faces.
“Get out!” You both shouted together, making all three of you laugh. Cillian retreated from the room, hands thrown up in mock surrender.
Tom and you once again turned to each other, wide smiles on your faces.
“Should we go?” You asked, holding your hand out to him. He instantly linked your fingers together, pulling you closer to him.
Jungkook sat quietly across the table from Namjoon, eyes nervously shifting around the room.
“You’re so tense,” Namjoon commented nonchalantly, pouring a drink smoothly into a crystal glass. Jungkook remained silent as Namjoon approached him with the glass. “Drink this.”
Jungkook stared up at him in refusal. He didn’t know what he was being offered, and quite frankly, didn’t want to figure it out.
“It’ll help you relax.”
Jungkook looked down into his lap and shook his head. “I’m ok,” he mumbled.
“Here, look. I’ll drink some too if it makes you feel better.” Jungkook skeptically watched Namjoon swallow down a gulp before the glass was handed to him again.
Jungkook was wavering.
“Drink.” The command in Namjoon’s voice sent a shiver up Jungkook’s spine, and he finally obeyed, taking a quick sip before setting the glass back on the table. The tangy sweetness on his tongue and the sparkly kick as it made its way down his throat surprised him. It was pleasant, but he wouldn’t dare admit it.
“All of it.”
Jungkook hesitated before nervously downing the rest. Within seconds, he felt a subtle warmth envelop his chest, slowly spreading to the tips of his fingers. Namjoon nodded in approval and took the glass with him as he returned to his seat across the table. “Did you quit your job?”
“Well yes. Kinda? Not n-not really, no.”
“I just told my boss that I would be working irregular hours…”
“That’s fine, I suppose…You mentioned that you were a virgin last time.”
Jungkook flushed at his direct and blunt transition, staying silent in his embarrassment. His stomach tingled at his words, and he shifted in his seat, beginning to feel uncomfortable.
“So we will need an hour each night for a few weeks before you can take it for longer.” Namjoon stood up with the bottle and glass in hand and disappeared around a corner to clean up, leaving Jungkook to his thoughts for a moment.
Jungkook stared at his reflection in the mirrored table. He could tell he was blushing, even in the dim light of the room. Why was he blushing? He rubbed his cheeks, trying to rid himself of the heat accumulating in his face. His hands ran along the back of his neck, and he was startled by how sensitive he was all of a sudden. His skin was crawling and he wanted it to stop. He crossed his arms and tried to focus on calming his breathing, desperately attempting to ignore his heart pounding in his ears. When was Namjoon going to come back? He was taking forever. Jungkook felt hot everywhere, and the warm buzz was beginning to intensify.
“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath when he pressed his thighs together in an attempt to relieve tension, which only made it worse. Waves of heat shot through his body, and it took every ounce of control to fight the urge to grind back into his chair.
What the fuck is happening to me?
“With your projected schedule, I’ll have you picked up two hours earlier than the usual end of your work shift.” Namjoon finally reentered the room, seamlessly continuing what he was saying before, but the only thing Jungkook could find himself focusing on now was how low the V in Namjoon’s black silk shirt was plunging.
“Feeling ok?” Namjoon approached him and placed the back of his hand on Jungkook’s forehead. Jungkook whimpered at the contact, following Namjoon’s touch. “I-It’s so hot right now, I don’t know what’s g-going on, I-”
“Shh, you’ll be fine. Just relax, Jungkook.” Namjoon encouraged and slid a hand slowly down Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook stifled a moan as sparks shot across his skin in reaction to the touch. “W-what, what did you make me drink?”
“It’s just going to make things easier for the both of us.”
“What’s that s-supposed to mean?”
“It’ll just make your first time more pleasurable than without it. I’m trying to help you-”
Jungkook smacked Namjoon’s hand away in panic and tried to bolt to the door, but Namjoon was quick and pulled hard on the back of Jungkook’s shirt, yanking him into his chest. Jungkook choked for a moment and desperately tried to ignore memories he worked so hard to repress. Namjoon caged him in from behind, one arm wrapped around his waist while he slid his fingers around Jungkook’s throat, pushing his chin up. Jungkook gasped when he felt Namjoon’s lips press against his skin, and he shivered at the contact. “N-no…” he pleaded.
“You signed your consent.”
“I-I know, b-but-” he keened when Namjoon brushed over his chest, lightly pinching a nipple.
“Fuck, you’re sensitive here,” Namjoon remarked as he continued to play with his discovery, sounding pleased with himself. He let out an amused chuckle as Jungkook writhed at his touch and tried to pull his hands away. Namjoon noted that the mild aphrodisiac he had Jungkook drink was intensifying the stimulus that he was receiving, but it was only just enough to make him feel hot and a little needy. Namjoon was certain that he had found a loaded jackpot full of potential and tucked the information away for later use. But as of now, he had a somewhat sadistic urge to make his pretty boy cry from the stimulation and began roughly teasing both nipples simultaneously. Jungkook’s entire body jerked and he sank to his knees with a loud whine. Namjoon couldn’t believe how sexy this boy could be, and he wasn’t even experienced yet. “Fuck, Jungkook. I was going to bring you to the bed, but I’m beyond tempted to just take you right here.”
Jungkook shuddered, panting, trying to catch his breath. This was too much. His mind was plagued with sinister anxiety, but his body was swimming in heady lust. He vaguely noticed Namjoon’s retreating footsteps before surrendering to the urge to touch himself. He hated how aroused he was, how relieved he was to begin stroking himself through his pants, how it amplified his desire for more. He hated everything, he hated Namjoon, and he hated himself.
Namjoon quietly returned with a bottle of lube and smirked at the sight of Jungkook bent over with his ass in the air, palming himself slowly, as if conflicted by his actions. The boy had a lot of self control, Namjoon would give him that, but the way his lewd pants and stifled groans left his lips was filthy, and Namjoon had to hold himself back from mindlessly ruining him. Instead, he silently approached Jungkook and knelt down behind him, enjoying the view for a moment before interfering and replacing Jungkook’s hand with his own. Jungkook let out a humiliated sob and tried to scramble away, but Namjoon held him down with one hand while the other continued to stroke him. “I bet you’ve got yourself a pretty cock, don’t you?” Namjoon teased, giving him a few harsh tugs. Jungkook whimpered and squirmed, attempting escape, but he soon shamefully gave into rutting against Namjoon’s large hand.
“Shit, do you have any idea sexy you are right now?” Namjoon growled. He released his grip on Jungkook and watched him thrust involuntarily, seeking the friction that was just there, whining at the emptiness.
Namjoon chuckled before quickly sliding Jungkook’s pants down, over the curve of his ass, revealing skin and the tense, flexing muscles of his thighs. Namjoon was mildly surprised at how built Jungkook was. He had such a pretty, baby face, and yet his body showed off the results of regularly working out. It messed with his head but turned him on even more, and he poured lube over the exposed flesh, rubbing it over Jungkook’s ass and down the back of his legs as an excuse to touch. He pressed the pad of his finger against Jungkook’s tight, virgin hole and vaguely wondered if the boy ever fingered himself when he got horny.
Jungkook kicked back at his touch, and Namjoon was surprised to find him sobbing and shaking violently. “It’s ok, I said I’ll be gentler for your first time, I have at least that much consideration.”
He didn’t get any verbal response other than garbled, indistinguishable begging.
“You’ll be fine,” he assured before slowly pushing the slicked digit into the tight heat.
His uncle was drunk again when he got home from his date with Yoongi, and immediately began drawling curses at him.
“Did you go out with that fag again?!” He threw an empty can in Jungkook’s direction. “I said never to see him again, yet you still go out like a slut for men! What kind of image does that put on me, you ungrateful bastard?! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
Jungkook was fuming. Way to ruin the goodnight kiss he had just shared with Yoongi. “I’m pretty sure your reputation as an alcoholic druggie is worse,” he muttered before sulking to his room.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” His uncle bolted from the couch and lunged at him. He grabbed the back of Jungkook’s shirt when he tried to run away, yanking him down to the ground and belting out every profanity he knew. Jungkook scrambled to get back on his feet, but his uncle pulled him up and slammed him face first against the wall. Jungkook felt blood drip down from his nose and a dark bruise begin to form on his cheek. His pained groan turned into a panicked shriek when he felt his uncle’s rough hands pull at his jeans.
“Little fucker, you like boys?! You wanna be some man’s bitch?! I’ll show you, you fucking whore!”
Jungkook struggled to escape, but the hand clutching his neck, forcing his head into the wall, made it impossible for him to find any leverage. He kicked his legs back in an attempt to defend himself, but the grip around his neck crushed his throat and he choked. His hands desperately clawed at the fingers clamped over his windpipe.
“You wanna be fucked by boys? I’ll show you what a man feels like,” his uncle raged before forcing two fingers into his hole. Jungkook screamed at the harsh, dry intrusion and tried to wrench away from the torment, but the fingers began pounding mercilessly into him.
Two turned to three.
He should be here! He saves me!
Namjoon slowly stretched out Jungkook’s hole, adding more than enough lube to allow for a smoother slide, but Jungkook’s struggling was making everything more difficult than it should’ve been. Namjoon was getting frustrated. He kept telling Jungkook to relax so it won’t hurt as much, but it appeared that every word he said was falling on deaf ears.
So he gave up trying to coach him through it. If he wasn’t going to listen, then he wasn’t going to listen. All Namjoon could do was proceed as gently as he was allowed.
He carefully began pumping three fingers into Jungkook.
Everything felt raw and bloody, but Yoongi was supposed to be here. Jungkook left his phone with him, and Yoongi should’ve broken down the door and this uncle’s nose by now.
Where is he?!
Namjoon removed his fingers after deeming that Jungkook was going to be as stretched as he would be. Fuck, it had been years since he fucked a virgin, and Jungkook was just so tight, Namjoon had to fight the animalistic urge to chase after his own pleasure. If he hurt Jungkook too much, it would take weeks for his body to recover, and even longer for his mentality. Namjoon slowly pushed his fingers back into Jungkook. “I need you to communicate with me, Jungkook. If I hurt you and you don’t say anything, I wouldn’t know.”
Jungkook didn’t respond.
“Have it your way.”
Jungkook let out a tortured sob when his uncle drove into him, pounding him brutally against the wall.
Why isn’t this stopping?!
He began to cry out for Yoongi, hoping it would make him arrive faster.
But he didn’t come.
There was no furious pounding on the door this time, no yelling, no shattering wood as the door was kicked down.
Jungkook gave up.
He went limp and let himself be used like the slut he was. He deserved it.
All he could do was stare blankly at the closed door.
Namjoon was relieved that Jungkook finally listened to him and relaxed, even though it didn’t make much of a difference anyway. Namjoon groaned at the crushing heat pulsing around him and dared to start moving. God, this felt so perfect, and Namjoon was at war with wanting it to last forever or to chase down his climax. He reached around Jungkook to pump his cock for him as he began thrusting faster. It was soft. Namjoon figured it would happen the first few times before Jungkook could get pleasure from bottoming, so he thumbed at the head of Jungkook’s cock and cursed when Jungkook clenched around him.
Stop touching me!
Jungkook wanted to yell and cry for help but nothing except broken moans and gasps escaped his throat. He hated that he was getting hard again. He didn’t want to like it. He wanted it to stop.
Namjoon pumped Jungkook in time with his thrusts, addicted to the enticing high. Jungkook shivered beneath him and abruptly came without warning, cum coating Namjoon’s fingers in hot spurts. Namjoon groaned loudly at the taut throbbing that surrounded him. Jungkook clenched so hard that Namjoon found it nearly impossible to move, and he released his load with a low moan of satisfaction.
Jungkook was not reacting to him.
Namjoon had no idea what to do. He cleaned Jungkook up, assured him that he’s had his blood tested and that he was clean, tried to get him to stand.
Jungkook remained pliant and unresponsive, staring at the door with dead eyes.
Namjoon apologized for not restraining himself, telling him that he should’ve taken him to the bed.
“Jungkook. Answer me.”
Namjoon tried running his fingers through Jungkook’s dark hair. Jungkook shuddered and tears began rolling down his cheeks. He looked up at Namjoon with glassy eyes and gripped his shirt.
“H-Hyung? Y-Y-Yoongi hyung? Yoongi…Yoongi hyung, why weren’t you there? Y-you always said y-you’d be there. B-b-but you weren’t! W-where did you go, hyung? I needed you!”
Namjoon stared at him in confusion. “Jungkook, I’m not-”
“H-hyung, h-how could you leave me all a-a-alone?! You promised!”
Jungkook sobbed and clutched Namjoon’s shirt as if it was the only thing grounding him.
Namjoon couldn’t understand anything else that Jungkook said after that except for scattered calling for this Yoongi hyung of his. He called the driver up to his penthouse, unable to come up with any other solution.
“Sir?” the driver asked cautiously, having never been ordered into Namjoon’s actual home.
“Go to my bedroom and grab any warm blanket you can find,” he commanded, still holding onto Jungkook.
“JUST GO DOWN THE HALL, YOU CAN’T FUCKING MISS IT!” Namjoon yelled. Jungkook flinched and whimpered away from Namjoon. “No, no, Jungkook, I’m sorry. It’s fine, promise, c’mon it’s ok.”
“Y-Yoongi hyung,” Jungkook pleaded.
“Look, here’s a blanket. C'mon let me-”
Jungkook started screaming and crying when Namjoon tried to pry his hands from his shirt. “Shit. What the fuck do you want?”
“Perhaps it would be better if you rode back with him?”
Namjoon huffed and picked Jungkook up with a bit of struggle and carried him to the elevator. The driver held the building doors open for the two and Namjoon glared at anyone in the lobby who would dare stare at him. Once in the car, Namjoon groaned and rubbed his shoulder. “Fuck, he’s heavy,” he complained. “Have you found his actual residence, yet?”