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The Wellness Corner
The Course - I currently work for the NHS for mental health. I became interested in this field of weight management because I wanted to understand.
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#lose weight tips#home food#weight management#weight loss#Low-Fat Cooking Techniques#Low-Fat Cooking
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Cool To The Touch
Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Summary: Being a telepath meant being cautious. With every touch, you were cautious. Whether you used it on criminals during a mission, or tried to avoid it when in close contact with your friends.
You were cautious when Bucky, the last person you expected, woke you up in the middle of the night, begging you to use your powers on him.
WC: 7.8K
Tags/ Warnings: canon typical violence, depictions of murder/strangulation, hints at torture, Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, reader is ex-HYDRA
A/N: Not canon compliant! It gives OG avengers tower fics so it briefly includes some of ur fav OG avengers + Yelena, and I started writing this before Thunderbolts came out so doesn’t really reference that. Beta read by my bestie @whats-yesterday00
You thought there was a noise. It was muffled and quick, but it still managed to reach your ears.
It’s what caused you to stir awake. Half asleep, half fighting to wake up. In your semi-conscious state, you assumed it was nothing and attempted to fall back asleep.
Then the knocking came. This new sound fully woke you up.
You lazily reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Your eyes pried open to see the time was 3:16 am. The knocking returned. This time it wasn't quiet, cushioned. Now it was a real knock.
You threw off the comforter and stumbled to the door. When you opened it you found Bucky Barnes about to knock a third time.
He stared at you in silence for a moment. Even though he was the one to knock on your door, he looked almost startled. Like he was surprised to see you answer your own bedroom door.
It was now that you noticed he was shirtless because his tense muscles relaxed, Like the sight of you relieved him.
“Bucky, it’s three in the morning,” you started with a hoarse voice from just waking up.
He shifted his weight as he stood in front of you. You couldn’t read his expression very well, but you could still sense something was plaguing him.
“Can you do me a favor?” He asked. His voice had a hint of desperation.
You straightened at the tone of his voice. Concern filled you in seconds.
“What is it? What happened?”
He swallowed before making his request. “Can you go in my mind?”
You froze at his question and stared back at him with wide eyes. The last thing you would’ve ever expected from Bucky, was not only him allowing you to enter his mind, but practically begging you for it.
When Steve first introduced you to the rest of the Avengers, he described your powers as similar to Wanda’s. After all, she was part of the reason you had those powers in the first place.
In an effort to replicate their success with the twins, Hydra started a new research program to create another telepath. You were unfortunately one of their test subjects, and the only one who made it out alive. That was because you were the only one who showed any positive results.
Unbeknownst to them, Wanda's exposure to their experiments brought out her own magical gifts. So when they tried it with you (and without the mind stone), the results were what they called “insufficient.” The only reason they kept you alive was to study you and your abilities to perfect their technique on someone else.
Thankfully, the Avengers tracked down the lab and found you. You were even more grateful that Steve thought you would be a good addition to the team and gave you a place to stay.
But when he briefly explained your abilities, it made a few of them wary of you like they were with her at first. You remember Tony, and Bruce tensed up at the reveal of how your powers actually worked. Meanwhile, the woman herself was immediately welcoming.
But just like with Wanda, you quickly grew on them. Even Tony warmed up to you and called you Witch Jr (even if you weren’t a witch).
One person that you became particularly close with was Bucky. From when you first met, there was something about him that you found comforting. You couldn’t quite place what it was. All you knew was that you never felt tense in his presence. You never worried that he would find you odd or strange.
He started to fill the missing pieces that hydra tried to take from you.
The beginning of your friendship was quiet. That might have been why you guys clicked so well so fast. You could exist in the calm silence together. You both enjoyed each other's company. Occasionally making small talk that didn't feel awkward or forced.
What soon followed was deep growing trust and appreciation. It almost happened overnight. How quickly the friendship blossomed into more than just enjoying the company. You looked forward to spending time together. Wanted to know all the little quirks and intricacies that made you who you were.
“So how does it work exactly?” he asked you.
Bucky sat at the opposite end of the couch from you, slightly baffled that in the many weeks he knew you he still didn’t know the full scope of your powers.
“It’s kinda like Wanda’s, but more restrictive.” The more you talked with him, the less interested you were in movie playing.
“I know that part, but how?” he inquired.
You shifted to fully face him, “I’m only a telepath. I can see into someone’s mind and alter it, but can’t move things with my own. And I need to make physical contact with the person to do it.”
He stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.
“I can see your thoughts, memories, emotions, fears, desires, anything and change them. I can alter your actions, but of course only if I’m touching you. I can plant myself in your memories and experience them for myself.”
As he took in the information, his expression grew with curiosity. “You can change memories?” he asked in a slightly lower voice.
His curiosity was no surprise to you. You were fully aware of his past as the winter soldier and the things your mutual acquaintances put him through.
“I can reach deep into your subconscious and bring out memories that were previously hidden. I can remove short term memories, but never long term ones,” you hesitated as you recalled what happened the previous times you were ordered to remove long term memories. All the minds you scrambled at Hydras orders.
“Completely erasing long term memories can be dangerous.”
Bucky nodded after you explained, acknowledging he understood.
“Got any other cool tricks up your sleeve?”
“I can make someone fall asleep and enter their dreams. I’ve done that a few times. Knocked out a lot of people since joining this job,” you ended with a chuckle.
The corners of his mouth threatened to perk up. “Sounds like a good cure for insomnia or nightmares.”
“Pretty much,” you shrugged. “I actually did help Wanda fall asleep once. I don’t do it often but sometimes it can be really helpful if your dreams just get a bit too much.”
“Sadly that’s a common occurrence for all of us.”
“Unfortunately,” you mumbled.
You were no stranger to nightmares. Every so often- more often than you’d like- terrifying images would creep their way into your sleep. Whether real or artificial, they still made you wake up feeling like your chest is running out of air.
You knew Bucky got them too. Probably more often than you did. Just a few days after you joined the team you ran into him in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Neither of you spoke about it other than a simple “nightmare?” and a nod as a response.
“How hard is it to control?” he asked, still eager to understand the depth of your abilities.
“I’ve pretty much got a good handle on it. I was offered a lot of,” you swallowed down the words hydra test subjects, “practice.”
There was a subtle look of sadness in his eyes, like he silently told you he understood.
“Except, there have been some moments when I’m in contact with someone and I can feel their emotions or thoughts without trying because it’s such a strong feeling. I don’t mean to, it’s just so overwhelming for the other person it seeps into me.”
You immediately cringed at your own words. “That sounds weird doesn’t it?”
Bucky shook his head, “not at all. I think I get it. It’s like your empathy is cranked up to a thousand.“
You nodded to confirm his assumption. A tiny breath of relief left you.
“I’ve never told anyone that before,” you whispered as your attention drifted towards your fidgeting hands.
You didn’t expect the confession to leave you. But something told you that Bucky wouldn’t think of you as strange or creepy for it. While he was often found with a judgmental grimace, you hoped, prayed even, that not a single ounce of judgment would pass through his veins.
“I’ve always been afraid that if I told someone, then they’d never want to touch me,” you continued, even quieter this time.
“Hey,” he muttered to bring your eyes back to him.
He reached his hand out towards you. You stared at it in confusion before he spoke again. You’d never heard his voice sound so soft and gentle before.
“I trust you.”
Your heart nearly gave out from his sentiment. A soothing ache wound itself around your heart and squeezed it tight.
You accepted his offer and took his hand in yours. His skin was warm to the touch compared to yours. The heat from his hand started to creep its way into you.
“You don’t seem like the type to go digging around in my head.”
You gently squeezed his hand, “I promise I won’t.”
This time he allowed the smile to grow on his lips.
His hand parted from yours, his touch lingering for just a second longer. It left sparks on the ends of your fingertips that traveled in your veins and to your heart.
You tried not to overthink how that was the first time you and Bucky ever really had close contact.
He folded his arms and leaned back in his seat, “You don’t want to look in there anyway. It’s a mess,” he joked.
That’s what made you so concerned. Bucky had enough invasive alterations to his mind over the years. Turning his thoughts insight out until he no longer knew who he was.
It was assumed that he would never ask you to look inside or do anything to his mind.
Until now.
“Bucky what happened?” you asked, opening the door and gesturing for him to enter.
He cautiously stepped inside. “I haven’t slept in days,” Bucky couldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke. His voice sounded shaky and rough.
“I thought I was doing better. I didn’t have a single nightmare for three weeks and then-“
He paused at a loss for words. He balled his metal fist so hard you could hear the metal adjust to the strength.
“It’s been days. Every night. I can’t sleep,” he finished weakly.
“Do you want me to erase it? Your nightmare?” you offered.
“No!” he snapped louder than he intended. A brief flash of terror crossed his face. Likely from the images of whatever occurred in his dreams. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t want you to rid himself of the memory. But you assumed he wanted to keep you from witnessing whatever horrors he saw.
The sight of him in this state was shattering your heart.
“No, I uh … wanted to ask if you could help me sleep.”
You didn’t have to consider his request. You would help him in a heartbeat.
“Of course.”
His tense shoulders slightly loosened and his tight fist released.
You moved back to the door to leave and he gave you a quizzical look.
“You wanted to go to sleep right?” you asked in conformation as you opened the door.
His eyes widened for a second. “Right,” he muttered.
Bucky led you down the hall to his room. Upon entering your eyes all around the interior until you stopped at the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw one of the pillows and a blanket removed from the bed and layed out messily on the floor next to it instead.
“Sometimes the bed is too soft. I thought the floor would help,” he answered your question before you could even ask it.
The memory of Sam and Steve mentioning the discomfort of regular beds returned to you. How they felt like they were sinking in their own mattress and it took a while to get used to.
“Do you want to try sleeping here again?”
He shook his head, “no, I don’t want you on the floor.” He grabbed the discarded pillow and blanket and placed them back on the bed.
You held back from playfully rolling your eyes, sensing this probably wasn’t the time to tease him. “This isn’t about my comfort, Bucky. The goal is to get you to sleep.”
He shrugged as he sat down. “Still.”
The room fell into silence as you stood before him. Your body was frozen in place, hesitant to move closer. It’s not that you haven’t done this before. It just felt different this time.
This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t feel weird about this. Both Wanda and Bucky are your friends. Why should it be any different doing this for Bucky? This is normal. This is what friends do, they help each other, they comfort each other.
This is you being a friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.
You swallowed down the lump in your throat and took a few steps closer. You ignored the way your stomach was in knots.
“So, you can lie down like normal and I can hold your hand,” you started, trying to hide the nervousness. “If you’re okay with that.”
“That’s fine,” he shifted to lie down, giving himself the pillow that was on the floor. You moved to the other side of the bed and slowly layed down.
That weird feeling in your stomach started to boil over as he turned to face you with his hand out. You had no choice but to shove that feeling down. He needed your help. You couldn’t help him with these feelings swarming around and distracting you.
“I’m gonna do this slower than when I knock people out during a job. To make sure you don’t get another nightmare I’m going to help you relax and then you’re going to slowly feel more and more tired. Okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered back. “Ya know, you don’t need to use your powers to help me relax.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
Bucky fake smiles back as the meaning behind his statement is lost on you.
Reaching forward, you met his hand in yours. His palm was clammy and warm. On instinct you started to gently move your thumb back and forth over his skin.
“Close your eyes.”
He followed your command. You took a deep breath, and focused your energy on him.
His emotions started to flow through your veins. It was worse than you thought. His fear and anxiety were clouded, letting you know he started to calm down. But the presence was like a black cloud ready to pour at any second. A lingering weight that couldn’t stop pulling you down.
And what surprised you, was the guilt. You felt like you were drowning in it. Suffocating on it. Like it filled up your lungs and you couldn’t breathe.
You tried your hardest to melt the feelings away. To sooth them with something he found comforting. You searched for the source of whatever started to cloud his fear, and it took you back to the feeling of his hand in yours.
Oh.
That’s what he meant.
With his eyes still closed, you didn’t bother to hide the smile on your face.
You focused back on his feelings. While smothering the flames that his nightmares sparked, you opted for a more organic source of comfort instead of mentally amplifying it.
Your hand slowly traveled to his forearm. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingertips over his arm. Occasionally, your nails grazed his skin as you drew absentmindedly.
The relief was almost immediate. It enveloped you like a tidal wave and left phantom goosebumps on your skin as you felt what he did.
“That feels nice,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Shhhh, be quiet. Go to sleep,” you whispered.
That brought out a smile from the man across from you. He threatened to open his eyes, but you reached up and covered them.
“Nuh-uh. Keep em closed.”
Bucky quietly chuckled at your antics.
Your fingers returned their dance on his arm. Now that the horrors from his nightmare had finally loosened their grasp on him, you began to lull him to sleep.
As the seconds rolled by, his body relaxed into the mattress. You watched the tension air out of his muscles and let the serenity overtake him. Even after you knew he was asleep you kept tracing his skin. You didn’t want to stop. You wished you could stay there with him all night. To wrap your arms around him and hold him close to you.
Before tonight, you and Bucky were never this close. Well, physically at least. Always leaving a small bubble between the two of you. Even now with your hand traveling up and down his arm, you kept yourself a safe distance away. Desperately craving to be closer but too scared to take the leap.
After a few more greedy moments, you considered finally leaving his room to let him sleep. Carefully and slowly, you turned away from him trying to ease out of the bed without disturbing him.
Except you couldn’t make it very far after he reached forward and grabbed your waist.
You froze in place, barely even breathing. His hand on your waist trying, and failing, to pull you closer. You knew he was asleep because you could sense it through his touch. And yet somehow he felt your presence leaving.
Your whole body was paralyzed as you weighed whether to leave or not. Hypothetically, it would be the easiest thing in the world. Use your powers to release his hold on you. You’d done it a thousand times before to other people.
But you really didn’t want to.
Because he wanted you to stay.
At least that’s what you told yourself.
So you stayed. You told yourself it would only be for a few minutes longer.
You settled into a less tense position and rested with your back to him. He sensed the movement in his sleep again. Now, his arm had fully wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
As he moved, your sleep shirt shifted, his touch was leaving goosebumps all over your skin and made your heart flutter.
It took a moment, but you finally let yourself melt into his hold. Surrendering to the comfort and serenity it brought.
You did not in fact only stay for a few minutes longer. Actually, the situation you found yourself in was so comforting you fell asleep after those few minutes and stayed the whole night.
By the time morning came, you pried your eyes open, letting them adjust to the small amount of sun creeping in through the window. After a few seconds, you registered the different position from when you fell asleep. You were face to face with Bucky as his arm lazily draped over you, keeping you close.
You studied his features, mere inches away from you. He had an essence of calm you didn’t see often. There were many times you saw his normal hardened expression soften; but this just seemed different. He looked so at peace and secure.
It was while you were observing every little detail of him you noticed his breathing change. It was a subtle disturbance in the rise and of his chest, but you saw it.
You looked at him confused before deciding to test your theory. You lightly traced your hand over his arm and watched his closed eyes move.
“I know you’re faking.”
No response.
“Bucky, I know you’re awake.” You tried not to giggle as you attempted to call his attention again.
A small smile danced on his face as he opened his eyes.
“Liar,” you playfully accused.
“Cheater.”
You pointed a finger at him, “Wrong, I did not use my powers.”
His cheeky expression softened the longer he looked at you. “You didn’t leave,” he stated the obvious. It was his way of asking why.
“I fell asleep.”
Technically it wasn’t lying. You fell asleep. You just left out a few key details.
An awkward silence hung in the air, waiting for one of you to break it. Instead you both let it linger for a moment longer. Bucky released his hold on you and you carefully backed away and got out of his bed.
“I should probably go,” you stated while fixing your sleep clothes and avoiding his gaze
As you tried to leave, he sat up and called out your name, stopping you in your tracks as you reached for the door handle. You turned back to him, his stare left you feeling exposed, like an open wound.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” he thanked with quiet vulnerability. His tone reached out and pulled at your heartstrings.
“I’m glad I could help and that you finally got some sleep,” you returned sweetly.
Bukcky’s hand fidgeted with the sheets, “It did help, a lot.” He couldn’t quite grasp the right words he wanted to say.
“If you ever need me, just ask,” you offered sincerely.
A fond expression crossed his face, “I won’t hesitate.”
You felt your cheeks start to heat up and quickly turned to leave. The short walk back to your room left your palms sweaty and heart racing.
It was so silly how much he had an effect on you. And it only got worse in the days following the night you spent together in his room.
All day long, your thoughts would be consumed by him. Like he had you under some magic spell and no matter how hard you tried to break free of it, you were left staring back at your own longing.
It started to become addicting. His attention. His affection. Him
It had been days since you spent the night. You were suffering from withdrawals and needed a fix.
And it didn’t help when one evening you were woken up by daunting dreams that kept you awake all night. You desperately wanted to seek out comfort from him, but instead you laid in your bed alternating between staring at the ceiling or the back of your eyelids.
The questions bounced back and forth in your mind. Would he even be awake at this hour? Would he let you stay? Even though you were 100% willing to help him, would he be willing to help you?
You were starting to get restless. Turning around in bed you checked the time on your phone. An hour of tossing and turning had gone by and still you were no closer to falling asleep.
With a sigh of defeat, you got out of bed and snuck down the hall. For a second there was no response to your knock. You almost gave up after your first attempt and left, but the door opened and you were met with blue eyes. Those blue eyes you could swim in.
He said your name in a raspy voice, indicating he was in fact previously asleep. You were already starting to regret your decisions.
He looked at you confused, “what’s up?”
Your hands played with the hem of your sleep shirt. The words were stuck in your throat with no way out.
He noticed the hesitation in you immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did I wake you up?” you asked, ignoring his own question.
“No.”
“Liar,” you accused with a hint of humor.
He tried to resist smiling, but you caught the corners of his mouth lifted up.
“Seriously, what’s wrong?” he asked, leaning against the door frame. It took all of your strength to not look him up and down as he did it. Of course he had to be shirtless, again.
“Can’t sleep,” you offered quietly as you folded your arms. “I uh, I know this might sound dumb, but I wanted to ask if- if we could-”
“Yes.”
You froze in response to his interruption.
“Really?”
He nodded, “Really. And It’s not dumb.”
The tight fists you didn’t realize you were holding loosened.
“Thanks,” you said more bashfully than you intended.
“Do you want to sleep here or in your room?”
You honestly didn’t care at this point where you were.
You just wanted to be with him.
“We can stay here, I don’t mind.”
He nodded and welcomed you into his room. Your eyes trailed to his bed, it looked slept in this time. There were no pillows or blankets on the ground. That brought a bit of relief to you that he was comfortable sleeping in a bed again.
“Nightmare?” He asked, fixing the pillows on the bed from their messy position.
”Yeah.”
“Well, I may not have any of your fancy magic, but I’ll help the best I can.”
“Wanda’s the one with magic.”
He deadpanned at you, but you could tell he found you amusing because of the glint in his eyes and the tiny smirk he couldn’t hide.
You lightly smacked his arm- the real one or else you would break a finger- and walked to the other side of the bed. “C’mon, you know I appreciate your help.”
He quietly chuckled as you both settled into bed.
That turned into a common occurrence. At least once a week, one of you would have trouble sleeping and end up in the other person's room.
But it wasn’t just your sleeping habits. There was a significant change between you and Bucky.
It was unspoken, but present. The bond between you was stronger now. You were closer, figuratively and physically.
The both of you seeked out the other more often. When in group settings, you always sat next to each other. Even offering small subtle touches of affection, like your hand on his arm or his hand on your back. He sat so much closer to you when you spent time together in the lounge.
The team had definitely noticed this change in your and Bucky’s behavior. As the weeks passed, most of them tried to clue in on what was going on between you two. Anytime they brought it up, you both tried to avoid the subject and shoot down their questions.
While you did soak up every little bit of this new bond you shared, it also started to drive you to the brink of insanity. As your bond grew, so did your feelings.
Every touch, every glance, every word shared between you was feeding the yearning that ate away at your heart.
It was borderline mean how he would rest his head on your shoulder when you’d be watching a movie and easily fall asleep against you. Or when you would rest your head on him and his arm would sneak around your shoulders. It was sickening how he let you ruffle his hair- meanwhile if someone like Sam or Clint even came close to his hair- they’d lose a hand. It was torture when in an effort to stop you from overexerting yourself, he threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing and carried you out of the gym to get some rest. It was evil how he would poke your warm skin with his cool metal hand to watch you jump in surprise.
It was painful being so close to him yet feeling so far away.
You desperately wanted more. Wanted to tell him how important he is to you. That you’d do anything for him to make sure he was safe and happy. How you’d fight off any nightmares he had with your bare fists if it meant he could sleep peacefully. Tell him that he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever met and you would kiss him till you couldn’t breathe if he’d let you.
You needed him to know that when you looked at him you saw your safe space. That no other person has made you feel so content and at home. That he was the only person who you could lay next to and feel safe enough to let yourself sleep.
But instead you kept that all to yourself. Letting it fester like a wound inside of you.
Because one too many times after a sweet intimate moment you shared, he would almost close in on himself. It was subtle, but you would always catch it.
There would be this look in his eyes when he left your bedroom in the morning. His eyes would melt with melancholy for a few brief seconds. Or right after you pointed out the serenity of your closeness while casually spending time together and his posture would stiffen or he’d become less talkative.
So, you never brought it up. Instead you existed in the space between friends and more than friends.
“They look so cozy,” Yelena commented as she observed from afar.
Sam stepped closer to get a better view of what she was seeing. From where they stood in the kitchen, they could see you and Bucky on the couch. You had both fallen asleep. The movie you had previously turned on was still playing in the background. His face was buried in your neck and his arms were wrapped around your middle. One of your arms lazily draped around him keeping him close.
“Yeah, a little too cozy,” he teased.
“God will they just kiss already?” She joked walking back to the kitchen island where Steve and Wanda were cooking.
Sam looked at her like she had four heads.
“Wait, I thought they were sleeping together.”
Wanda shook her head, “No, I don't think they’ve made it that far yet.”
“What are you talking about? I saw him leave her room at like 7 am yesterday. How would you know they haven’t even kissed yet?”
“You can just tell,” Wanda answered without even looking up from chopping vegetables.
Sam crossed his arms, “Okay, how?”
Yelena pointed towards the couple in question as she spoke. “He’s still holding back.”
Sam looked at her in disbelief, “His face is in her neck. You call that holding back?”
The two women shushed him as his voice accidentally raised in volume. Sam turned around to take a peek at the living room and make sure you were still asleep. And more importantly, not listening.
Yelena shrugged back at him, “I don’t know how to explain it Sam. There’s something in the way he acts around her.”
“Not that it’s bad,” Wanda interjected. “It just seems like he’s scared of something.”
Sam turned his attention to Steve who had still yet to comment on the matter.
“What about you?” Sam asked him. “Did he tell you anything?”
Steve glanced up from the counter and his gaze landed on the scene many feet away from them.
“I know he’s sweet on her.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Well obviously.”
Steve cracked a smile at his friend. He lowered his voice, careful to not wake the couple in question, “I asked when he was gonna ask her out. He told me she wouldn’t want someone like him.”
“That’s complete bullshit,” Yelena argued as she sat on a stool and stole a chopped vegetable from Wanda’s cutting board.
Steve shook his head and returned to preparing dinner. “I told him. He wouldn’t listen.”
Steve didn’t know exactly what was going on in his best friend's head. But one thing he did know was that Bucky didn’t think he was deserving of love.
“Well he needs a wakeup call.” Sam snatched a vegetable from Wanda’s cutting board as she swatted him away.
Two hours later, the kitchen was abandoned. Dishes in the sink and leftovers, for the “love birds” as Clint called you, in the fridge.
You and Bucky were still asleep on the couch. By now, one of your many roommates turned off the tv.
You don’t remember when you fell asleep, who fell asleep first, or how you ended up in this position. But you woke up with a painful feeling in your chest.
It snuck up on you. Like one of those dreams where all is well and then suddenly you're falling and it startles you awake.
Only this was worse.
A lot worse.
This feeling was familiar. Waking up from a nightmare. You were no stranger to it. Yet this time it felt different. It felt foreign. This fear wasn’t coming from your own dreams.
Except, you didn’t realize that when you woke up. All you could think about in your freshly awakened state was the pain. The terror and guilt had wrapped around your chest like barbed wire and choked you.
You saw it.
You didn’t mean to. You didn’t go looking for it. It found you because it was so powerful. His feelings were so strong, so painful that they seeped into you from his touch. And what followed were the images of his nightmare.
You watched the dream from Bucky’s point of view. The setting was blurry. You were indoors with no windows. Maybe some kind of cellar. It was dark, but light enough that you could make out who you were fighting.
Yourself.
The first thing you noticed was the difference in his arm. It was chrome with a red star on his shoulder instead of the black and gold vibranium. He was wearing all black tactical gear and a black mask.
You were fighting the Winter Soldier.
As the fight continued, you grew weaker. You managed to hold your own against him, but his brute strength and endurance were catching up with you. He wasn’t holding back. Your strength was weakening the more you blocked off his attacks.
With a small blade, he sliced your arm before you kneed him and knocked the knife to the ground. He managed to anticipate your next move and kicked you in the abdomen, causing you to slam back into the wall behind you.
You hunched over in pain, struggling to breathe. He stalked towards you and slammed you against the wall. His metal arm wrapped around your throat and held you in the air. You choked for breath but couldn’t take one. From his eyes, you watched tears streamed down your own face and lips mouth a silent plea.
“James please.”
Seconds later your eyes fell and your body went limp.
A gasp left you as you were brought back to the present. Back in your own body.
Seconds later you felt movement and the man next to you woke up.
Bucky was in shambles. He quickly sat up on the couch, panting quick weak breaths. His hands were trembling as he gripped the couch cushion. His metal fingers dug into it so hard you were worried he would rip the fabric.
His eyes were the worst to take in from the sight in front of you. They were bloodshot, glassy, and full of panic as they scanned his surroundings.
You reached forward and placed your hands on his face. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t think to use your powers. You almost didn’t want to after what you accidentally witnessed.
“Hey, hey you’re okay. You’re okay. I’m fine,” you cooed to him. This didn’t help him at all. His face was still struck with horror.
“James, look at me.” This caught his attention. His eyes landed on yours and you watched a tear fall down his cheek and felt it land on your hand.
“It’s okay. You’re safe, I’m safe,” You comforted while stroking his face with your thumbs.
His eyes darted over your face as he recognized you were there. You were tangible.
You were alive.
Bucky dove forward and engulfed you in a hug. His hold on you was tight, like he was scared you wouldn’t be there if he let go.
His quick movements took you by surprise and almost knocked the wind out of you. After a few seconds, you relaxed against his hold and rested your arms around his neck. Your hand weaved its way into his hair. You felt his tense muscles start to ease at the feeling.
“I thought I-“ he stuttered, voice still frail.
“I know, I’m fine baby I’m right here.” You didn’t mean to let the term of endearment slip out. You hoped he wouldn’t dwell on it.
And for a moment you were worried he did. There was no response from him for longer than you liked.
Until he nervously asked, “did you see that?”
You let out a small sigh, knowing the guilt would tear him apart. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I promise. It was just so … strong,” you apologized while your fingers dug in his hair as a way to comfort him.
“I couldn’t … I couldn’t stop myself,” he whimpered. His hold on you tightened.
“It wasn’t real. I know you would never hurt me.”
He whispered so quietly you wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t so close. His voice sounded fragile and small. “What if one day I did?”
“But what if you didn’t?”
You heard a sniffle followed by a long pause. It seemed like he was calming down because his breathing started to even out and slow down.
You continued to play with his hair until he finally released his hold on you. When you separated he quickly wiped at his wet eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered with guilt etched on his face.
“For what?”
“For scaring you. That you had to see that.”
The surprise of his apology hit like a brick to your temple.
Bucky was the one who had the terrifying nightmare that brought up his trauma from Hydra. He just watched the winter soldier kill someone he cared about. But you are his main concern. He’s more worried about you accidentally being a witness to it. He’s more concerned about you being scared than his own fear.
If he wasn’t reeling from what he just saw you would’ve punched his arm for apologizing. But tough love wasn’t what he needed right now.
“You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not your fault.” You’d repeat it like a mantra to him until he believed you. “The only thing that scares me is seeing you like this,” you comforted with a soft voice.
There was a small look of relief in his eyes, but not enough to show that he was fully convinced.
Silence grew between you. As time stretched, you thought more about his nightmare. Your curiosity was growing and it needed to be answered. You needed to know if your suspicions were correct.
“Can I ask you about it?” you asked cautiously.
There was a brief pause before he nodded.
“Was that like the nightmare you had a while ago? The one I helped you with.”
His eyes couldn’t quite reach yours. He looked down with a pained expression and swallowed before letting out a quiet whisper. “Yes.”
The ache in your stomach tripled at his meek reply. Flashes of that night bounced in your head. The tremble in his voice, the panic on his face. How he practically came running to your room after he woke up. He’d been having nightmares for days, but that night specifically he needed to see you.
You thought of the terrified reaction he had to the idea of you erasing the memory of the nightmare. Because if you erased it, that meant you would’ve seen your own death.
You would’ve seen him killing you.
“You’re not usually in my nightmares. That was the first time I ever saw something like that. It’s been eating away at me ever since.” Bucky explained, still not looking you in the eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, you noticed he did that a lot when he was nervous.
His earlier question rang in your ears as realization dawned on you.
“What if one day I did?”
You sat up straighter and leaned closer to him. “It was a nightmare. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore,” you comforted in a gentle voice.
“I know but—” his eyes squeezed shut as the words he was trying to say got stuck in his throat. “I’m scared that it’s still a part of me. I’m scared that somehow it’ll all come back. And I could never live with myself if I ever hurt you.”
Things were starting to fall into place and suddenly make sense in your mind. This had to be why he kept close to you but somehow still at arms length.
He wouldn’t allow himself to fully enjoy your embrace in fear of getting too close and hurting you. He didn’t want to bring his frightening past with him and let it poison your life.
“Buck,” you whispered to make sure he was listening.
Bucky’s eyes opened back up and finally met yours. They were still red, glossy and full of fear.
It was now or never. You needed him to know.
“I trust you. More than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.”
You placed a hand on his cheek and gently caressed his face. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch. It seemed like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
“I feel safe when I’m around you. I don’t think there was ever a time I felt like I was in danger with you in any way. That's why I want to be near you or why I seek you out when I can’t sleep.” You let out a gentle chuckle before your next words, “Hell, I can sleep next to you. Do you know how big of a deal that is to me? For me to feel safe enough to fall asleep in the same bed as someone else.”
He resisted the urge to smile. He looked like he desperately wanted to believe you, but the darkness had a chokehold on him and wouldn’t loosen.
You needed to dig deeper.
“Are you afraid of me?” you asked in a serious tone. “Afraid of what I can do with my powers when I touch you?”
His expression fell with absolute bewilderment, “No, of course not.”
“Then why would I be afraid of you?”
Bucky momentarily froze as he realized the point you were making. He shook his head unconvinced, “That’s not the same.”
“Is it really?” you insisted. “You said it yourself, you trust me. You barely knew me and you trusted that I wouldn’t hurt you.”
He muttered your name, about to counteract you, but you gently cut him off.
“No, listen.” You grabbed his hand in yours. The warmth from your hand started to seep into the cool metal.
“You would never hold the things I did at Hydra against me. Why should I do the same to you?”
It seemed like you were getting through to him the way his jaw clenched. He wanted to argue back, but he couldn’t.
“I’m not scared of you. I never was.” you spoke with determination in each breath. You needed the words to sink in.
“When I look at you I don’t see the winter soldier. I see a kind man who cares so deeply about people. I see someone who even though he shows a tough exterior, is secretly a huge softy. And a sucker for physical affection even if he doesn’t want to admit it.”
That made him chuckle. He almost appeared sheepish the way he looked at you in return.
“I need you to get it through your thick skull that you’re important to me. You mean so much to me and you don’t even realize it,” your hold on his hand tightened as your heart poured out into his grasp.
Bucky sat there quietly. Wide pupils staring back at you as he took in what you said. His bright blue eyes appeared almost incandescent.
His other hand found its way on your thigh. The feeling of his hand on you had butterflies swarming in your stomach and your face heating up. You were used to his touch by now, but this felt so much more intimate than anything you’d ever done.
“Ya know, when I had that nightmare for the first time and I asked you to help me fall asleep, I didn’t really need you to use your powers on me,” he confessed. His hand traveled up and down your thigh as he spoke.
“I just needed to make sure you were okay. I couldn’t go back to sleep without knowing you were safe.”
He started to lean closer to you. The distance between you was slowly dwindling as he continued.
“You mean the world to me doll,” he said softly. His voice dripping with devotion.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
You closed the space between you and him and rested your forehead against his.
“I’m right here. I’m all in. The good, the bad, I don’t care. I want all of you.“
Bucky's metal hand reached up to cradle your face. Your cheeks were so flushed and warm, the cold metal sent chills down your body. His thumb gently caressed your cheek and ran over your bottom lip.
“Can I-?” he pleaded in a low voice.
Of course he would be a gentleman and ask. Even when his lips were mere inches away and you were like putty in his hands.
“Just kiss me James,” you breathed desperately.
He didn’t waste a second. He tiled your face up towards him and his soft lips collided with yours in an instant. You were practically melting in his hold.
Your mind was going fuzzy. You couldn’t think of anything other than the feeling of his lips against yours as he hopelessly tried to mold to you. Your hands found purchase around his neck and in his hair, trying to pull him closer.
He sighed and smiled against your lips. His hand that was on your thigh traveled up and gripped your waist.
Neither of you knew how much time had passed. I seemed like time stood still until you heard someone enter the deadly silent living room and gasp.
You quickly pulled away from each other at the sound to find Wanda trying to hold back a smile. Bucky and you sat like deer in headlights staring at her.
“Get a room you two. I know you use them,” she teased before retreating into the hallway.
As she left, you turned to Bucky and saw his face was bright red matching yours.
“Oh god,” you chuckled, leaned forward and hid your face in his neck.
He reached up and ran his hand up and down your back. “You wanna go somewhere more private?” he whispered close to your ear.
You leaned back to face him again. “Why? You want to kiss me more?” you asked with a cheeky smile.
He offered you a smug grin as his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes.
“Babygirl, I never wanna stop kissing you.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes headcanon#winter soldier#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes angst
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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes your boyfriend’s want for you just seems to be insatiable.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, mating press, breeding, biting, he loses control of his technique a teeny tiny bit at the end, im going absolutely insane. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii this is a lil mix of my gojo thoughts over the past few months, my sanity is slipping as u can tell <3

the way gojo satoru was in bed was exactly how he was in real life, absolutely merciless when he wanted to be, you realise with the dizzy haze in your mind and the pillow he’s shoved under your hips. there’s a pleasurable burn in your thighs where he’s got them folded into you, your ankles dangling by his ears as his hips press into your ass and the way he looks over you is needy, and a little wild.
but he only really got like this on on a few occasions, like after a gruelling mission, a boring mountain of paperwork or maybe you’d been teasing him. sometimes he’s just consumed by the idea of you carrying his kids— he’s so incredibly insatiable.
“you feel me right here, sweet thing, hm?” the snowy haired man above you hisses with a languid roll of his hips, deliberately pressing into the sweet spots inside of you that he always seems to be able to find so easily. but you can barely breathe, nevermind answer with how full you feel — your warm walls twitching around his heavy shaft before he’s giving you a few more thrusts.
“don’t hold out on me, it feels good, right?” gojo goads, chuckles when the next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your insides has your lips parting to moan, eyes squeezing shut as you wriggle underneath him.
“‘ts too deep, satoru! fuck—“ you manage, voice breaking under the weight of your own arousal but shit— he loves you like this. pliant and pretty and all his. you’re basically begging for him to give you his soul, to pour it into your body and your bones until you’re twitching— his stamina was limitless after all, an endless pool of energy.
“oh? but i’m sure you can take more..” gojo’s words are a low drawl as he curls over your folded figure, making your muscles scream for some sort of relief but he still manages to give you more. he begins a pace that’s so deep, so animalistic that you feel like you could black out with the way the pleasure rips through you, making your body clap against his as his balls smack loudly against your ass and suddenly he’s even deeper.
“see, i knew it.” it’s smug despite the the trembling undercurrent to his tone, breaking under the weight of his own arousal as his voice takes an octave higher. but you’re doing so well for him, your eyes are rolled back— lips parted and you’re basically begging for him to go harder when he leans into press his lips against yours, pushing his name between your lips as your hands grab at him for any sort of relief.
“almost there, right?” gojo groans against you with the next quiver of your walls; the next particularly heavy thrust makes your thighs tremble and he’s so deep it almost hurts, making something spark and burn along your inside as he fucks you into the mattress like a wild animal.
you whimper, barely— it’s a desperately pathetic little sound, wound up tight and it makes him pull away to look at you, crystalline eyes cloudy with lust before his lips are stretching into a smirk.
“oh, more?” gojo’s head cocks to the side and you know you’re done for when his pace picks up, every heavy thrust is driven by the muscles in his body and your pussy squelches loudly with every wet connection of his hips.
“oh, i’ll give you more, baby. so greedy f’ me, hm?” despite his teasing, he’s babbling— sweat beading along his skin as the snowy peaks of his hair frame his flushed features and fuck, the pretty sight above you only makes you feel even better. you’re so high off his desperation, every muscle in your body screams under his but the nerves in your body cry even louder with how good you feel— with how much your body craves him.
“‘ts so tight, you milkin’ me, sweet girl? how many you want, huh? give you as many as you need. wanna see you swollen f’ me, you want that, mhm?” gojo’s barely coherent but his words only make you squeeze around him tighter— a silent little invitation as every thrust has you crying more, more, more! satoru, want your cum—please! punched out little gasps and cries as he digs the orgasm out of you.
“oh, you’ll look so pretty f’ me—f-fuck!” his huge body is looming over yours, pressing you into the mattress and the pillows beneath you. your thighs are flush against his abdomen and chest, and your lungs feel like they quake on every exhale as your lips part to moan. he presses himself into you— face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he grazes his teeth along the skin there, headboard screeching loudly in time with every smack of his hips.
“‘toru, please please please—‘m g’nna,” you tremble as you shake beneath gojo, thighs tensing tight against his body and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you as he smirks against your skin. your orgasm hits you so suddenly, so hard and good that your toes curl where they hang over his shoulders, your body stiffening beneath him and the first milking compression of your pussy makes his pace stutter, hugs him so tight he can’t help but bite so hard into the sensitive skin of your neck he draws blood.
“should see h-how pretty you look like this. tell me ‘ts all mine, y’ gonna make me a daddy, yeah? g’nna fill you up so good. oh, this pussy’s made f’ me, ain’t it?”
his body trembles as he pulls back slightly to watch your cream pool around the base of his cock, your slick smeared along his skin and your walls still throb with every unforgiving push of his hips. your orgasm feels like it stretches on forever as you gasp out broken yeah, yours, love you so much ‘toru, waves rolling through your body with the heat you feel pour and sting along your nerves. it only takes a few more clapping thrusts and your choked confessions before hes kissing you, just as he likes as his lips curl into you.
gojo cums hard, thick and heavy inside of you when he feels your tongue push against his, swallowing both of your groans into the kiss as he pushes his load into your puffy cunt. you’re both so lost in bliss, so unaware of the electricity across your boyfriends skin and the uncomfortable pressure that seems to suddenly weigh down on your intertwined bodies.
the bedroom light flickers but you don’t notice, he’s slurring curses against your lips as he almost pins your thighs to your chest completely, the air between you seems tighter— atoms trembling in the finate space. but he’s continuing to fuck into your sensitive pussy with tiny little thrusts you don’t notice the creek of your furniture as it twitches out of place— like it’s being pulled towards you both. the small flickers of purple fizzle out when you’re both spent and he’s collapsing on top of you with a low, breathy chuckle, making you whine with the cramp you feel in your body.
“‘toru! you’re heavy.” you grumble, voice worn and scratchy but it doesn’t move gojo as he cuddles deeper into you, leaving sweet little kisses along your skin with obnoxious kissy noises— a stark contrast to how filthy he was being a second ago.
you’re both breathing deep as you give up trying to escape from underneath him, opting to press your fingers through his damp hair instead before he finally moves. he pulls back, enough for his cock to push his cum out of your pussy as he does, squelching and dripping into the mattress beneath you both as you jolt slightly. “careful, ‘ts messy, ‘toru.”
gojo whistles lowly before he looks at you again, one of your legs still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder before he’s placing a sweet kiss to your ankle, then following it up with a painfully languid, experimental thrust as his crystalline eyes focus on the mess he’s made of you.
“come on, sweet girl. you’re not nearly full enough f’ me yet.”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you
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Hypnotherapy near me: Find a Professional in North Texas
Are you seeking holistic approaches to improve your mental well-being? Look no further than hypnotherapy, a powerful technique that combines the benefits of psychological therapy and hypnosis. If you reside in North Texas and are in search of top-notch hypnotherapy clinics, you're in luck. In this article, we will guide you to find reliable hypnotherapy professionals in North Texas who can assist you on your path to self-discovery and healing.

When it comes to hypnotherapy, it's crucial to choose a reputable clinic with experienced practitioners. A quick search online can lead you to various hypnotherapy clinics in North Texas. One such clinic is North Texas Hypnotherapy, located at www.northtexashypnotherapy.com. They have a team of skilled hypnotherapists who specialize in various areas, including psychic healing and QHHT (Quantum Healing Hypnosis Technique).

Psychic healing is a branch of hypnotherapy that taps into the intuitive and energetic aspects of the mind. It focuses on identifying and resolving emotional and energetic blockages that may be causing distress or hindering personal growth. QHHT, on the other hand, delves into past-life regression, allowing individuals to explore and resolve issues that might stem from previous lifetimes.
At North Texas Hypnotherapy, their team of skilled practitioners understands the unique needs of each individual. They provide a safe and nurturing environment where clients can explore their subconscious, uncover limiting beliefs, and make positive changes in their lives. If you're looking for hypnotherapy clinics in North Texas, consider visiting www.northtexashypnotherapy.com. Their team of professionals is well-versed in psychic healing, QHHT, and other therapeutic modalities, providing you with the support you need on your journey towards self-discovery and healing.

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Hypnotherapy Services: Unlock Your Mind's Hidden Potential!
Step into the incredible world of hypnotherapy services! Let's Dive into the magic of your mind, conquer fears, and boost confidence together! 🚀 Discover your true potential for lasting improvements! This really works! What is Hypnotherapy?… #HypnotherapyServices #MindMagic

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#Boosting Confidence and Self-Esteem#Breaking Free from Bad Habits and Addictions#Choosing the Right Hypnotherapist#Clinical Hypnotherapy#Deepening the Hypnotic State#Enhancing Performance#Hypnosis#Hypnotherapy Services#Integrating Hypnotherapy into Your Mind Improvement Journey#Integrating Hypnotherapy with Other Mind Improvement Techniques#Limiting Beliefs#Managing Weight and Improving Body Image#Mind Improvements#Myths and Misconceptions about Hypnotherapy#Negative Thought Patterns#Neuroplasticity#Overcoming Fears and Phobias#Personal Transformation#Personalized Treatment Plans#Seeking Recommendations and Referrals#Stress and Anxiety Reduction#Studies and Research Supporting Hypnotherapy&039;s Effectiveness#Subconscious Mind#Suggestion and Visualization Techniques#Trusting Your Intuition
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How to Choose a QHHT Practitioner: Tips and Considerations
If you're seeking deeper insight into your soul’s journey or looking to explore past lives for healing, working with a Quantum Healing Hypnosis Technique (QHHT) practitioner can be a transformative experience. But how do you choose the right practitioner, especially when searching for “QHHT practitioners near me”? At North Texas Hypnotherapy, we want to help you find the best fit for your spiritual and emotional healing journey.
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The Impact of Stress on Weight Loss
When it comes to weight loss, many people focus on diet and exercise as the primary factors. However, one often overlooked aspect that can significantly impact weight loss is stress. Stress affects various aspects of our physical and mental well-being, including our ability to lose weight. In this article, we will explore the impact of stress on weight loss and provide insights into managing stress for successful weight management.
Stress triggers the release of cortisol, a hormone that plays a crucial role in the body's stress response. Elevated cortisol levels can lead to several effects that hinder weight loss efforts. Firstly, it can increase appetite and cravings, particularly for high-calorie, sugary, and fatty foods. This can result in overeating and a higher calorie intake, which can impede weight loss progress.
Secondly, stress can disrupt sleep patterns. Inadequate sleep affects hunger hormones, such as ghrelin and leptin, leading to increased hunger and decreased feelings of fullness. This can contribute to weight gain or difficulty losing weight.
Moreover, stress can negatively impact our motivation and willpower to engage in healthy behaviors like regular exercise and mindful eating. It can lead to emotional eating as a coping mechanism, further sabotaging weight loss efforts.
Managing stress is essential for successful weight loss. Incorporating stress-reducing techniques into your routine can have a significant impact on your overall well-being and weight management. Some effective strategies include:
Regular exercise: Exercise has proven benefits in reducing stress levels and promoting overall mental and physical health.
Mindfulness and meditation: Practices like mindfulness meditation and deep breathing exercises can help reduce stress and improve emotional well-being.
Adequate sleep: Prioritize getting enough quality sleep to support healthy weight management and stress reduction.
Social support: Building a strong support network of friends, family, or joining support groups can provide emotional support during stressful times.
Time management: Effective time management strategies can help reduce stress levels and create a better balance between work, personal life, and self-care.
Relaxation techniques: Incorporate activities such as yoga, tai chi, or taking warm baths to promote relaxation and reduce stress.
Healthy coping mechanisms: Find healthy ways to manage stress, such as engaging in hobbies, listening to music, or spending time in nature.
Prioritizing self-care: Take time for yourself and engage in activities that bring joy and relaxation.
Seeking professional help: If stress becomes overwhelming and affects daily life, consider seeking support from a therapist or counselor who can provide guidance and coping strategies.
Balanced diet: Nourish your body with a balanced diet that includes nutrient-dense foods, as proper nutrition can help mitigate the effects of stress on weight loss.
Shread Fat And Transform Your Body
In conclusion, stress can have a significant impact on weight loss. By incorporating stress-reducing techniques and adopting a holistic approach to health and well-being, individuals can manage stress levels and enhance their weight loss efforts.
#stress and weight loss#cortisol and weight gain#emotional eating#stress management#exercise and stress reduction#mindfulness and meditation#sleep and weight loss#social support#relaxation techniques#self-care
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Radio Silence | Chapter Fifteen
Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)
Series Masterlist
Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.
Then Lando Norris happens.
One moment. One line crossed. No going back.
Warnings — Autistic!OFC, rising tension (not between Amelia and Lando), a lot of Oscar!!!!!
Notes — Bit longer than usual! I wanted to cover 3 races per chapter, but it's not worked out that way. So we're covering Bahrain and pre-Imola. This is going to be a long 2021 season, so... yeah, get ready for a lot of chapters lmao.
Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x
2021
Bahrain
Amelia perched at the edge of a padded hospitality seat overlooking the circuit, knees tucked up slightly, elbows resting on them. The sun cast sharp glints off the tarmac as the F2 grid wound their way through the formation lap, engines whining as they lined up. Her gaze didn’t waver, eyes narrowed into thoughtful slits, tracking each car with sharp precision.
She’d missed the first sprint race that morning, buried in set-up notes with Max, buried in everything Max in general, really, but she’d made sure to find time for this one.
Her eyes followed car number 81 as it weaved through the final corner. Oscar.
She wasn’t quite sure what it was that had snagged her interest after watching her first F3 race with Max, only that it had. And now she was here, legs bouncing with unconcealed energy, eyes fixed on one driver who rose above the sea of talent.
A shadow cast itself across her legs.
She looked up.
Mark Webber. A polite smile, hands in his pockets like he’d been waiting for her to notice him.
“Do Red Bull usually start sniffing around this early?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.
Amelia tilted her head slightly. “I don’t work for Red Bull anymore.”
Mark’s eyebrows rose a touch. “No?”
“No,” she said. “Just Max.”
He hummed, shifting his weight. “Alright… it’s a personal interest in my Oscar, then?”
She hesitated for a beat. “It’s… I don’t know. He’s very good. Talented.”
Mark studied her for a long moment. She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t playing politics. That was what made her so bloody difficult to read. “Well, whatever you’re seeing,” he said eventually, “he’s locked into Alpine. Long-term. Management contract’s done. They’ve promised him a seat in 2023.”
Amelia didn’t react at first. She simply nodded, eyes back on the track as the lights began to count down. But something flickered behind her expression, something uncertain.
She’d been to the Alpine garage. She knew how things felt there. Knew what Fernando had told her over coffee and biscuits. The uncertain politics. The disorganisation. The fractured attention span of a team trying to be four things at once and pulling in opposite directions. It didn’t sit right.
But she didn’t say any of that.
She just said, “Okay.”
Mark nodded. “Thought you’d want to know.”
She offered him a small nod in return, and then turned her eyes back to the track as the five lights went out.
Oscar’s launch was perfect.
Of course it was.
—
Lando was sitting on a low wall just outside the McLaren motorhome, nursing a smoothie and checking scrolling through Instagram when someone stepped into his peripheral vision.
He glanced up to see Mark Webber standing in front of him, arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face. “Uh. Hey,” Lando said slowly, slightly weary, wondering if he’d done something to accidentally pissed him off.
Mark nodded at him once. “Got a question for you.”
Lando blinked. “Okay?”
“Why is your girlfriend obsessed with Oscar?”
Lando stared. “What?” he said eventually, like the words had taken a full second to download.
“Oscar Piastri,” Mark repeated, tilting his head toward the mini F2 paddock. “Your girlfriend. Amelia. She’s been watching him like a hawk all weekend. I thought she might be there on Red Bull’s behalf, but no.”
Lando blinked again, processing. Then he laughed. “Oh! Oh, Oscar. Yeah.” He nodded, shaking his head with a fond grin. “She’s, like, imprinted on him or something.”
Mark stared. “She’s what.”
“You know. Like a duckling.” Lando made a vague motion with his hand. “It’s harmless. She gets like this sometimes. Sees someone drive well and suddenly she’s emotionally invested in their entire career trajectory.”
Mark looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“She was like that with Nyck for a bit,” Lando added helpfully. “And Latifi for exactly one afternoon, until he missed an easy breaking zone.”
“...Right.” Mark said.
“Honestly, it’s kind of sweet,” Lando shrugged. “Means she cares. She’s not gonna steal him from you or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried,” Mark said, slowly and clearly. “I’m confused.”
“You’ve just gotta learn to roll with it,” Lando grinned, sipping his smoothie again like the conversation was over.
Mark just stood there for a moment longer, processing the oddity of it all, before muttering something under his breath and walking away.
—
iMessage — 1:40pm
Lando Norris Mark Webber is very concerned Am I supposed to be jealous of this Oscar bloke
The reply came almost instantly.
Amelia He has perfect apex management Do you think if I go and talk to him he’ll let me critique him
Lando Norris PLEASE go and critique the baby driver. I’m sure he’ll love that
He shoved his phone back in his pocket, still grinning.
Oscar Piastri, whether he knew it or not, had just gained the most intense silent sponsor in all of Formula 1.
—
Oscar had just unclipped his helmet when he heard someone clear their throat behind him.
He turned, still half in his overalls, hair damp with sweat, and found himself face-to-face with a vaguely familiar woman who was wearing a white skirt, a T-Shirt with a lion and the number 33 on it, and sneakers that looked like they had a smudge of orange marker on the side. She also had a clipboard tucked under one arm, dark sunglasses pushed up into her hair, and an unreadable expression fixed on her face.
"Uh—hi?" he offered, polite and cautious.
"You're Oscar Piastri," she said, more like a statement than a question.
He blinked. “Yeah…?”
She nodded once, then added, "You braked too late into Turn 4. Could’ve gained three tenths if you’d taken a wider entry and stayed tighter on exit. But your apex work in Sector 3 was perfect."
Oscar stared at her. “I—thanks?”
Amelia tilted her head slightly. “You’re consistent. Calm under pressure. Don’t overcorrect. You keep your steering inputs clean, which is rare for a driver at this level.”
“…Okay.”
“And you’re doing that in a car that under-rotates on entry. That’s even more impressive.”
Oscar looked around as if someone might confirm whether this was real, if anyone else was seeing this happen. “Are you… scouting me or something? My manager—”
“No,” she said flatly.
“Oh.” He said. There was a pause. “Right,” he said again, more awkward now. “Cool.”
Amelia squinted at him. “Have you spoken to your engineers about your differential settings? You’re losing too much on cold tyres, especially first lap out of the pits.”
Oscar rubbed the back of his neck. “I—I guess I could mention that. I mean, I didn’t think—"
“You should.” She told him.
Another pause. “…Who are you, exactly?” He asked on a wince.
She smiled at him. “Amelia Brown. I work with Max Verstappen.”
Oscar’s eyes went comically wide. “Oh. Oh. I knew I recognised you.”
She nodded, glanced at her clipboard. “You’re fast.”
Oscar opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She shrugged. And with that, she turned on her heel and walked off toward the Red Bull garages, clipboard swinging at her side.
Oscar stood there for another full thirty seconds before one of his engineers passed him and said, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just— yeah. Hey, can who should I talk to about my differential settings?”
—
Oscar was adjusting the straps of his shoes when someone nudged his elbow.
He looked up and nearly choked on his own spit.
“Hey,” Lando Norris said, all cheeky grin and casual posture. “You Oscar?”
Oscar scrambled to stand properly, knocking into the side of the pit wall in the process. “Yeah! Uh—yeah. I mean—yeah, I’m Oscar. Piastri. You’re—uh. Obviously.”
Lando chuckled. “Relax, mate. Just wanted to say good luck in the feature. Great win yesterday.”
“Thanks,” Oscar managed, ears already starting to go pink. “It’s… really cool to meet you.”
Lando grinned wider. “Appreciate it. My girlfriend’s actually the big fan.”
Oscar blinked. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Lando said, folding his arms. “She’s a bit obsessed with you.”
Oscar’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Uh… what?”
Lando held back a laugh. “Not like that. Jesus. No, look, Amelia. That’s my girlfriend.”
Oscar’s brain stalled for a full second. “…Oh. I knew that, I think.”
“Yeah,” Lando nodded. “Look, she’s mostly with Max on race weekends, but if you spot her lingering around your garage, don’t freak out. She’s just… a bit fixated at the minute. It’ll pass.”
Oscar straightened a little, finally finding his footing. “I’m not freaked out. I mean—it’s kind of nice, actually. Having someone that smart in my corner.”
Lando’s smile softened. “Helpful, ain’t it?”
Oscar nodded.
“Shame she’s Max’s on race weekends,” Lando added dryly, nudging Oscar with his elbow. “But she’s mine the rest of the time, so I win.”
Oscar laughed, a little awkward but genuine. “Tell her thanks for the advice, by the way. Make some adjustments and I’ve already noticed a difference.”
“I will,” Lando said, already turning to leave. “Don’t let her scare you too much.”
“No promises,” Oscar muttered under his breath.
—
Lando sat on the edge of the halo, half in his car, helmet perched on the shelf behind him. He was tapping one foot, not even aware he was doing it, gaze flicking back and forth between the screens in front of him.
Then he looked up; felt her before he saw her.
Amelia ducked in under the divider flap like she’d done a hundred times. One of the engineers gave her a small nod of hello, and no one moved to stop her.
Lando stood up automatically.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just reached up, smoothing a wrinkle in the sleeve of his fireproofs, adjusting the zip at his collar. The kind of quiet, grounding touch that could settle a world spinning too fast.
Then, softly, “I love you. Do well. Be safe.”
He leaned down, and she kissed him; gentle and steady and just long enough to make his knees threaten to go out from under him.
When they pulled apart, Lando’s grin was crooked and dazed. “Love you.”
“I know,” she said, brushing her thumb across his jaw.
—
The Red Bull garage was settling into that uniquely pre-race stillness; that suspended hum of controlled chaos. Final checks. Monitors flickering. Tyre blankets off. Nothing wasted, not a second nor a movement.
Max sat low in the cockpit of the RB16B, suit zipped, gloves halfway on, helmet resting beside him. His eyes were locked forward, watching but not really seeing the telemetry screen across from him.
GP crouched at his side, tablet balanced against his knee. “Steering feedback still alright after FP3?”
“Yeah,” Max said, barely blinking. “No pull on the straights anymore.”
“Rear end?”
“Still twitchy through ten,” Max replied. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. I’m having to correct.”
GP nodded, tapping the screen. “We can tweak the diff map slightly, smooth it out mid-corner.”
Max didn’t answer immediately, just flexed his fingers inside the glove.
Footsteps approached, steady and unhurried.
Amelia.
She didn’t need to say anything; Max’s head turned the second she appeared at the edge of the garage. She had a MV33 jacket thrown loosely over her shoulders, a data sheet in one hand, iPad in the other. Her hair was pulled back in a messy clip, sunglasses on her head despite the garage shadows, and ear defenders around her neck.
“Steering sorted?” she asked, skipping hello.
Max nodded. “Almost. GP’s dialling it in.”
GP gave her a glance over his tablet. “You here to give me more setup notes?”
“No,” she said dryly, flipping her iPad around and showing Max a highlighted map of sector times. “You’re a tenth down in sector two. Get that under control.”
Max took the tablet from her, scanning. “Shit. I can sort that, yeah.”
“I know you can. You shouldn’t be struggling on that part of the track in the first place.”
GP snorted. Max handed it back with a smirk.
Amelia took a step closer, arms folded now, eyes flicking over Max’s face. She tilted her head. “You nervous?”
He looked at her for a moment, like he wanted to say no. Then he just nodded once. “A little.”
Amelia didn’t flinch. “Good. You should be. You’re about to start a season-long war with a seven-time world champion.”
GP side-eyed her. “Amelia.” He warned quietly.
She ignored him, eyes firmly on Max. “Just remember, you have the car. You have the talent. Just put it all together.”
He glanced up at her then. Her expression hadn’t shifted; calm, focused, familiar. Grounding.
GP looked between them and stood up, giving them space. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t let him spiral,” he added, aiming that at Amelia.
“I’m the one who built the spiral,” she muttered.
Max breathed out a quiet laugh.
Then Amelia broke the silence. “I’ll be at pit wall with GP during the race. Nothing else I can do with the car until afterwards anyway. Don’t fuck it up, trust the strategy.”
“I’ll try.”
As she turned to walk out, Max called after her. “Amelia?”
She glanced back.
“If I can’t—”
“You can,” she cut in, with the blunt certainty of someone who refused to consider any other possibility.
Max blinked once. Then nodded.
GP returned with the headset. “You alright now?”
Max exhaled, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Yeah.”
—
The lights went out, and the grid thundered into motion.
Amelia flinched slightly at the roar. Twenty cars launched toward Turn 1, and already her eyes were scanning; Max on pole, Lando P9. A clean start. Good. Clean was all she could ever ask for.
Max’s start was near-perfect; no wheel-spin, held the lead into the first corner. But Lewis was there. Always there. Breathing down his neck like more of an inevitability than a challenge.
Her stomach flipped.
Lap 5. Max radioed about rear grip. She already knew. She could see it in his lines, a little hesitation through Turn 10, just a touch of overcorrection. She scribbled something on her iPad, handed it off to GP without a word, let him relay the information to Max.
On the screen, she watched Lando pick off Charles. Nice. Brave. She smiled softly.
Lap 13. Bottas boxed. Mercedes going aggressive. Amelia tapped her fingers against her thigh.
Lap 14. “Box, Max. Box now.”
The pit stop was clean. Not the fastest, but smooth. Max rejoined behind Hamilton. The chase began.
Lap 28. She was quiet now, arms crossed. Watching Lewis manage his tyres like some kind of magician, Max clawing back the delta.
Lap 31. Lando passed Daniel. Amelia’s stomach swooped with pride. Forgotten, he’d worried. As if.
Lap 38. GP’s voice came in sharp over the comms; “Purple Sector Two, Max. Good job.”
Amelia didn’t smile. Not yet. She was holding her breath now.
Lap 45. Hamilton dove in. The final phase began. Max had the advantage. But not for long.
Lap 53. Two laps to go.
Max took the lead with a stunning overtake around the outside of Turn 4. Amelia’s heart leapt.
But he ran wide. Track limits. The order came like a whisper, a curse; “Give it back.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” she whispered.
Lap 56. Final lap. Hamilton led. Max was there, nearly pushing him through every corner, but it wasn’t enough.
The flag waved.
Hamilton won.
Max finished P2.
Lando P4 — a breath away from the podium.
GP exhaled beside her, already offering reassurances. "It's only round one. We'll get them next time."
She nodded. She believed it. But still.
Still.
—
Amelia found him on the balcony of their shared hotel room, one leg propped on the low wall, still in a McLaren team hoodie, curls damp from a rushed shower. He looked up when she slid the door open.
“Hey baby,” he said, soft and tired.
Amelia didn’t say anything at first. She just walked over, reached for his hand, and tugged him gently toward her.
He didn’t resist. Just leaned into her, let her wrap her arms around his waist and press her face into his chest.
“P4,” she mumbled.
He laughed quietly. “I know.”
“You were amazing.”
He let out a long breath, arms looping around her back. “Felt good. Car was sharp today. We had more in it, maybe, but... yeah. I’m happy.”
Amelia leaned back just enough to look up at him. “You should be. You outdrove your teammate, held your own against the Ferraris.”
Lando grinned at her. “You gonna make me a trophy?”
She frowned. “No. Why would I do that? You didn’t win.”
He snorted, kissed her forehead. “Yeah. Good thing I’m patient.”
“You are,” she agreed. “That’s why you’re doing so well.”
They stood like that for a moment, wrapped in the hush of midnight Bahrain, the warm breeze brushing past them. Her hand found the edge of his hoodie, fingers sliding underneath to touch warm skin.
“You looked good today,” he said softly. “On the pit wall, working hard.”
She nodded. “I really feel like I’ve found my place there.”
“And Max?” He asked.
She paused. “He was… good. Disappointed. But he’s focused. It’ll come.”
Lando hummed, then pulled her closer, swaying them gently. “Chances of me winning before he does this year?”
Amelia looked up at him, amused. “Slim to none, unfortunately.”
“I know,” he grinned. “But it’d make you smile, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. And then I’d be crucified for sitting on Max’s pit wall and smiling at another drivers win.” She told him.
He leaned in and kissed her, slow and warm and sweet. When they finally pulled apart, Amelia cupped his cheek.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said.
His eyes crinkled. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “Completely.”
He brushed his nose against hers. “Cool. So… we celebrating with cake or sex?”
Amelia blinked. “Both?”
Lando laughed, pulling her back inside. “You’re perfect.”
—
Following the first race of the season, Amelia got sick.
It started slowly, just a scratch in her throat, a little bit more fatigue than usual, but by the second day back in the UK, it hit her like a truck.
Fever. Shakes. Headache. Nausea. The works.
She tried to power through it, of course. She was Amelia. She didn’t do sick days. But when she nearly passed out standing in front of the mirror brushing her teeth, Lando had carried her back to bed, tucked the covers up around her chin, and handed her a glass of water with a stern but incredibly gentle, “You’re not moving for the rest of the day, okay?”
It was awful for her.
And somehow, somehow, it was worse for Lando.
He hovered. Kept her topped up with expensive coffee and water, made a heroic effort in the kitchen (which resulted in some aggressively average tinned soup, but it was warm and made with love), and sat with her on the sofa, leaning back against her, giving her the exact amount of deep pressure that she needed since she felt so out of sorts.
He ran cool cloths over her forehead, whispered soft reassurances when her fever spiked in the middle of the night, and called his mum every few hours for advice on what more he could do to help her feel better.
Now, on day three, she was finally stable enough to sit upright without swaying. The lights were low, the flat was quiet, and she was curled into Lando’s side on the couch, her face smushed against his bare chest as Pretty Woman played softly on the TV in front of them.
He was scrolling on his phone with one hand and the other was moving up and down her thigh absently. She snuffled a little, still congested and gross, and pushed herself impossibly closer to his warmth.
Safe. Comfortable. At peace.
—
Max showed up mid-afternoon on the Thursday.
“Did you rob a pharmacy?” Amelia croaked from the couch, her voice still rough with congestion as she blinked blearily over the edge of her blanket.
He dropped the bag on the coffee table with a dramatic thud. “Maybe.”
Inside was everything she could possibly need; throat lozenges, vitamin C gummies, a fresh box of tissues, eucalyptus balm, electrolyte drinks, chocolate buttons (“for morale,” he’d muttered), and even a miniature hot water bottle shaped like a bear.
Amelia stared at it all. “Did the girlfriend that you’re still lying to help you with this?”
“No,” Max said quickly. “Okay yes. But I picked the bear.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re weird.”
“So are you,” he shot back, tugging off his jacket and flopping unceremoniously onto the living room floor. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”
That was how they ended up there, Max stretched out on Lando’s living room rug with his laptop open, Amelia curled up under a blanket beside him with tissues stuffed up her sleeve like someone’s grandma, hunched over notes and telemetry data.
They worked in a familiar rhythm; Amelia with her sharp, observant critiques and Max with his quiet nods, letting her voice guide the direction. She sounded like hell, sniffly and hoarse and congested, but her mind was still as razor-sharp as ever, and Max didn’t miss the way she caught every subtle shift in his sector times, every inconsistency in brake response.
“You’re annoyingly good at this,” he muttered, glancing sideways at her.
She shrugged, wiping her nose. “I know.”
They kept at it until the sun dipped low in the sky and the flat was soaked in golden light. Max had just asked about tyre degradation when Amelia stopped responding.
He turned to look, and there she was—head tipped against the arm of the couch, blanket pulled up to her chin, tissues still clutched in one hand. Out cold, mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed with fever.
Max sighed softly, closing the laptop with a quiet snap. “Stubborn zusje,” he muttered, a fond smile tugging at his mouth as he stood.
The front door clicked open a second later.
Lando stepped in, looking wrecked from a day of intense training, hoodie clinging damply to his shoulders. He paused when he saw Max still there, eyebrows drawing together. “What’s going on?”
Max jerked his chin toward Amelia. “She insisted on coming back to work. I told her she was still sick. She told me she wasn’t. So I drove here instead of dragging her to Milton Keynes.” He gave a small laugh. “She made it three hours. Then passed out mid-sentence.”
Lando dropped his gym bag with a quiet thud and crossed to the couch. He crouched beside Amelia, fingers gently brushing sweat-dampened hair away from her forehead. His voice softened. “Jesus. She really doesn’t know how to stop, does she?”
“Her only flaw,” Max said, grabbing his own bag. “Take care of her, yeah? I need her sharp again by Imola.”
Lando adjusted the blanket up around her shoulders, gaze never leaving her face. “Yeah. Of course. Thanks for watching out for her, man.”
Max gave a short, understanding nod and let himself out with a parting, “Later.”
Lando waited a beat, listening to the quiet, before slipping his arms under Amelia’s knees and shoulders. She stirred the moment she was lifted, letting out a tiny groan and curling instinctively into his chest.
“You’re home?” she murmured, voice rough and small.
“Yeah, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And now we’re going to bed. Proper bed.”
She hummed, already half-asleep, nuzzling into his neck. “Still feel like shit. But I love you.”
He chuckled, arms tightening around her. “Love you too. Can’t believe you actually wanted to drive to Milton fucking Keynes like this.”
“Would’ve been fine,” she mumbled, stubborn as ever.
And then, right on cue, she dissolved into a coughing fit that tore through her chest and effectively killed her argument.
Lando didn’t even try to hide the grin. “Yeah. Super convincing, babe.”
She sniffled, still curled against him. “Shut up.”
—
It was sometime past midnight. The lights were low, the sheets tangled around their legs, and the soft hum of the street barely made it through the slightly open window.
Amelia lay on her side, head tucked into the crook of Lando’s shoulder, one arm draped lazily across his stomach. He was warm beneath her, skin soft and comforting, his voice a quiet murmur above her head.
“…and then Jon made me do this set of banded sprints that absolutely murdered my quads,” he was saying, his fingers absently tracing lazy circles along the bare skin of her arm. “Swear I almost fell flat on my face in the gym. And then we had the simulator session, but I kept getting distracted ‘cause the brakes were feeling off, like they were biting too soon.”
She didn’t say anything, just listened, eyelids heavy but not quite ready to let go of the moment. There was something in the way he spoke, like he didn’t even realise how animated his hands got when he was into something. Like he didn’t know his voice softened a little when he said her name, even in passing. Like he didn’t realise how easy it was to love him.
“Baby?” he asked quietly, glancing down when she didn’t answer.
She blinked up at him, smiling sleepily. “I’m listening, Lan. Promise.”
—
Imola
Teams were setting up, media outlets milling around, and the familiar hum of power tools being tested echoed through the paddock. Amelia wandered a little ahead of Lando, distracted by the sight of a familiar dog trotting toward her through the crowd.
“Roscoe!” She grinned, crouching just in time to be enthusiastically tackled by the massive bulldog. His tail thumped against her legs as she scratched behind his ears.
“Hey, kid,” came a low, warm voice from above her.
She looked up, and there was Lewis, hands tucked into his Mercedes jacket, sunglasses perched atop his head, watching her with a soft but unmistakably distant look.
She rose slowly, brushing fur off her trousers. “Hi. I like his new collar. It’s so cute,” she said lightly.
Lewis glanced down at Roscoe, then nodded. “Yeah. He’s missed you.”
There was a moment of quiet, just slightly too long. The smile dropped from Amelia’s face.
She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
Lewis blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You’re being weird,” she said flatly.
Lando caught up, hovering behind her. “Baby…” he said gently, tone a soft warning.
She looked back at him, frowning. “He is!”
Lando’s jaw jumped at the slight tremble in her tone, his gaze moving back to Lewis, a dark warning on his face.
Lewis’ gaze was steady but guarded. “I can’t help it, Amelia. You’re working with Max now, yeah?” His eyes flicked to her, searching, almost like he was trying to measure her response. “And that… that does change things. You, working with my biggest rival.”
Amelia shook her head, the confusion and frustration beginning to bubble up inside her. “I’m just doing my job.” Her voice cracked a little, an undercurrent of hysteria creeping in. “I don’t want things to get weird between us. Please, don’t make it weird.”
Lando’s voice cut through softly from behind her. “Amelia…” he murmured, a note of concern threading through his tone. He knew how much Lewis meant to her, knew how much this was tearing her up, but it was only inevitable, wasn’t it?
Amelia didn’t turn to look at him, her focus solely on Lewis now, her pulse racing. “I’ve always looked up to you,” she continued, a little more frantic. “And you have always been so nice to me. I don't want to lose you in my life just because I'm working for Max. Nothing’s changed except that I’ve got a job to do now.”
Lewis sighed, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took in her words. He glanced away for a moment, processing everything before settling his gaze on her. “It’s just hard, kid,” he admitted, quieter now. “Seeing you with him, knowing what that means for me, for my team…”
“I’m not picking sides,” she snapped a little more forcefully than she intended, the frustration now bubbling over. “I’m not picking anyone. I’m picking myself. I always have. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Lewis.”
There was a long, heavy pause as the tension hung thick in the air, with only the soft panting of Roscoe breaking the silence. Lewis seemed to deflate, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, kid,” he said finally, his voice softer. “I get it. I’ll get over it. I just… selfishly wish you’d chosen Mercedes, that’s all.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice steadier now.
As Amelia bent down to give Roscoe one last scratch behind the ears.
“Hey, zusje,” Max called, strolling to to them in his usual Red Bull jacket and skinny jeans. “I’ve been looking for you. GP’s waiting on us,” he told her.
Amelia huffed softly, brushing down her skirt. “Alright, I’ll see you guys later,” she turned to Lando, leaned in to kiss him, feeling his hand squeeze hers lightly in response.
“See you soon, baby,” Lando murmured, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before his attention shifted to Max, who was already gesturing for her to follow him.
Amelia turned to Lewis, her expression softening just a touch as she gave him a small wave. “Take care, okay?”
Lewis looked back at her, his eyes still carrying a trace of the tension that had been there before, but his voice was more measured this time. “Yeah, you too, kid.”
But just as she was about to turn away, she caught the faintest flicker of something in Lewis’ expression; a mix of caution, hesitation, and maybe a hint of something else — she hated that she couldn’t tell.
Max, noticing the look from behind her, turned his head sharply. His gaze locked with Lewis’ for a moment, something unspoken passing between them, a brief and subtle challenge.
Lewis didn’t flinch but held Max’s gaze, the tension hanging in the air like a low hum before Max spoke up, his voice casual but his body language firm.
“Let’s go, Amelia,” Max said, his hand gently guiding her away from the pair of them.
As they started walking, Lando took a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched them leave. “Christ. Good luck with that, mate,” he muttered under his breath.
Lewis, still standing in the same spot, let out a long sigh, the edge of his frustration softened but still there. “Yeah, thanks,” he replied, his voice low as he looked after the pair of them.
—
Lando and Amelia had found a quiet spot in the paddock, away from the bustling journalists and photographers. It was early afternoon, the Italian sun still high, but the relentless rush of the morning had started to wind down.
They sat together at one of the outdoor tables, with the faint sounds of conversations and laughter filling the air. Amelia took a bite of her sandwich, eyes scanning the surroundings lazily. The day had been full of interviews, photos, and the usual whirlwind of the F1 circus, but now she could finally give herself a moment to relax.
Lando sat across from her, munching on his lunch, eyes flickering between his phone and Amelia. After a moment, he looked up, a playful grin on his face.
“You know,” he started, a teasing edge in his voice, “you’ve got a rating on WAGFASH for today’s outfit.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “What’s the rating?”
“Nine,” he said, smugly.
She glanced down at her outfit; a white, low-waisted rara skirt paired with a baby tee emblazoned with an Italian flag and her little orange gem belly button piercing. “Huh. Not bad.” She said, slightly proud of herself. “I should comment and say thank you.”
But as she rifled through her handbag, her expression turned into one of mild panic. “Oh. Oh no.”
“What is it?” Lando asked, eyebrows raised.
“I’ve lost my iPad!” she exclaimed, voice rising slightly.
—
WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid
Lando N. Ok who has it?
Esteban O. Not me, mate.
Pierre G. Haven’t seen it!
George R. Yeah mate, not seen it today, sorry.
Mick S. You told me to just leave it if I saw it.
Lando N. You fucking what? Are you serious? Where did you see it?
Mick S. I gave it to the Alpine kid!
Lando N. What fucking Alpine kid?
Mick S. Pastry?
Lando N. Oh thank god. You’re lucky, Schumacher. She likes him.
George R. There’s an Alpine driver called Pastry? LMAO
Lando N. Piastri.
George R. Not as fun.
NEXT CHAPTER
#radio silence#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x ofc#formula one x reader#f1 x female reader#formula one smut#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula one#f1 smut#f1 rpf#f1#oscar piastri#max verstappen#lando x you#ln4 mcl#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#lando fanfic#lando x reader#lando norris#lando imagine#lando fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader
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The Role Of Bariatric Surgeons - Expertise And Specializations In Hyderabad

Introduction
Bariatric surgery has emerged as a vital treatment option for individuals struggling with obesity and related health issues. In Hyderabad, bariatric surgeons play a crucial role in providing specialized care to patients seeking sustainable weight loss solutions. This article delves into the role, expertise, and specializations of bariatric surgeons in Hyderabad, highlighting their contributions to improving patients' lives through surgical interventions.
Understanding Bariatric Surgery
Bariatric surgery, also known as weight loss surgery, encompasses a range of procedures designed to help individuals lose weight by altering the digestive system's anatomy. These procedures can lead to significant weight loss and improvements in obesity-related conditions such as type 2 diabetes, hypertension, and sleep apnea. Bariatric surgery is typically recommended for individuals with a body mass index (BMI) of 40 or higher or those with a BMI of 35 or higher with obesity-related health issues.
Types of Bariatric Surgery
There are several types of bariatric surgery, each with its own benefits and risks. Common procedures include gastric bypass, sleeve gastrectomy, and gastric banding.
How Bariatric Surgery Works
Bariatric surgery works by either restricting the amount of food the stomach can hold or by altering the way food is digested. This helps patients feel full sooner and consume fewer calories.
Candidates for Bariatric Surgery
Candidates for bariatric surgery typically have a body mass index (BMI) of 40 or higher, or a BMI of 35 or higher with obesity-related health problems such as type 2 diabetes or high blood pressure.
Benefits of Bariatric Surgery
Bariatric surgery can lead to significant weight loss, improvement or resolution of obesity-related health conditions, and a better quality of life for many patients.
Risks and Considerations
While bariatric surgery can be highly effective, it also carries risks such as infection, bleeding, and nutritional deficiencies. It's important for patients to thoroughly discuss these risks with their healthcare provider before undergoing surgery.
Lifestyle Changes After Bariatric Surgery
Successful outcomes after bariatric surgery often require significant lifestyle changes, including adopting a healthy diet, regular exercise, and lifelong follow-up care with healthcare providers.
The Role of Bariatric Surgeons
Bariatric surgeons are highly trained professionals specializing in performing weight loss surgeries. Their role extends beyond surgical procedures to include pre-operative evaluation, patient education, post-operative care, and long-term follow-up. Bariatric surgeons work closely with multidisciplinary teams, including dietitians, psychologists, and exercise physiologists, to provide comprehensive care tailored to each patient's needs.
Expertise and Training
Bariatric surgeons undergo extensive training and acquire specialized skills to perform various types of weight loss surgeries safely and effectively.
Patient Evaluation and Selection
Bariatric surgeons evaluate patients to determine their candidacy for surgery, considering factors such as BMI, obesity-related health conditions, and overall health status.
Surgical Procedures
Bariatric surgeons perform a range of surgical procedures, including gastric bypass, sleeve gastrectomy, and gastric banding, tailored to the individual needs and health goals of each patient.
Intraoperative Care
During surgery, bariatric surgeons meticulously perform the chosen procedure while ensuring patient safety and optimal outcomes.
Postoperative Care and Follow-Up
Bariatric surgeons oversee postoperative care, monitoring patients for complications, providing guidance on dietary and lifestyle changes, and offering ongoing support to promote long-term success.
Collaboration with Multidisciplinary Team
Bariatric surgeons collaborate closely with other healthcare professionals, including nutritionists, psychologists, and primary care physicians, to provide comprehensive care and address all aspects of patients' health and well-being.
Research and Advancements
Bariatric surgeons contribute to ongoing research and advancements in the field, striving to improve surgical techniques, enhance patient outcomes, and advance the understanding of obesity and its treatment.
Continue Reading: https://www.healixhospitals.com/blogs/the-role-of-bariatric-surgeons---expertise-and-specializations-in-hyderabad
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Accepting the Strength, Faults, and Needs of Dan Heng's True Nature
Bottom!FTM Dan Heng x Top!Masc Reader
🌊 Word Count: 1,256 🌊
AFAB Language Used | [Series]
CW: Dub-Con, Womb Fucking, Double Penetration, Creampie
Dan Heng gasps as his cloudhymn water tentacle fucks his needy pussy, a secondary tentacle enveloping his t-dick like a flesh light. He throws his head back and whimpers. It's not enough. “More..”
You knock on Dan Heng’s door. “Hey, are you okay?” You call out to him. He hasn't left his room in a couple days and the door’s locked. You just returned from the Xianzhou Luofu so Himeko asked you to try talking to him, since the two of you are close friends.
You hear shuffling before the door opens. He's in his true form again and it looks like he has a fever. However, those two facts are easily overshadowed by his lack of clothing, the slick in between his thighs, and the gold colored tattoo on his pelvis.
Before you can process everything, he pulls you into the room. You nearly crush him with your weight but you manage to pin your hands to the floor instead. He wraps his legs around your waist and presses his crotch against yours. His tail curls around your arm.
“Are– are you..” You don't know a lot about his species but… “Are you in heat?” You groan as he humps your bulge. You can see golden strokes of ink in the shape of a heart above lines depicting the leaves of a flower in bloom decorating the area just above his cunt, where his womb lies. It reminds you of his power.
Dan Heng doesn't answer you as he uses his Cloudhymn magic to remove your clothes. In the blink of an eye, your cock now rests on his body. You start feeling dizzy. You don't know if it's your sudden condition causing your eyes to play tricks on you, but you're pretty sure your dick is way bigger than it is normally. “Hurry.” He whines.
You jolt in surprise. You’ve never heard a noise like that from him.
“Please.” He pouts. Your arms weaken when he once again uses his magic, this time to stroke your already hard dick. His cunt throbs from your moans. He needs you to fuck him him.
“Okay– okay.” You shiver. His eyes light up, his magic dissipating. You get yourself more comfortable before spreading his legs. As you slide your length inside him, you feel a strong wave of heat flow throughout your body. Your vision blurs. It's like you have a fever. You start to desire him just as much as he desires you. You bring him into a passionate kiss, the both of you falling into an extremely feverish state.
As you pull away from the kiss, Dan Heng reaches for your head. You feel his fingertips against…your horns. His hands trail down to your cheeks, looking at you lovingly. You blink a couple times in an attempt to see clearer but your sight fails to improve. It gets worse when you look down and realize there have been some even more major changes to your body.
You have a second, ribbed cock laying on top of Dan Heng. You can also feel a tail attached to your body.
Dan Heng doesn't seem to be surprised, or maybe doesn't seem to care. He uses the same technique he used on you earlier and strokes your second length. It's almost like being inside two pussies at once. You moan in pleasure, your hands moving from the ground to his body. You quickly forget about your concerns and lean in to kiss his neck as you push further inside him. You sink your newly sharp teeth into his skin then lick up his blood.
You can feel his cervix. “Keep going~” Dan Heng moans. You don't hesitate. Your cock enters his womb with ease, the sensation causes the both of you to come instantly. “Yes-” He gasps. The cum from your second cock remains within his magic, before it dissipates and your seed falls onto his body.
You slowly pull out of him. “‘M gonna put both in-” You reassure him. Dan Heng nods and watches you line up your cocks, both of them are draconic in both size and aesthetic. Your body seems to have completely altered itself, but you're too horny to worry about it. Your cum dribbles erotically out of his pussy before getting plugged by your tips. He throws his head back as his walls happily stretch to fit all of you. You grab his legs and position him into a mating press. His toes and tail curls with pleasure.
In a matter of minutes, you return to his womb. Dan Heng doesn't even consider protesting when you start to fuck him. He digs his nails into your back and moans shamelessly. You pound into his pussy roughly and desperately. Your aggressive desire makes it seem more like you're possessed or drunk, anything other than sober.
Dan Heng pulls you back into a kiss, more passionate and sloppy than the first. There's no doubt you're addicted to him now. The sounds of sex fill the room and can definitely be heard from outside. You're more concerned with the ethereal man below you.
“I love you-” Your words trigger another orgasm for him and in turn, yours as well.
You pull away and your vision finally improves. Now you can see his beautiful face. You also feel a lot more conscious. More aware of what's happening. Your thrusts slow before coming to a firm halt. Your eyes trail down to his lower half, it seems like nothing changed physically. You're still…a Vidyadhara.
Dan Heng sobers up too. He looks embarrassed. “Sorry..” He doesn't make eye contact. “I don't know what happened to you…”
“Seriously?”
“Vidyadharas have heat cycles but this…this isn't how it is normally.” He can't ignore the tingling feeling throughout his body or the unbelievably good feeling of having two dicks inside him.
“Are you…on any contraceptives?” You don't want to pull out.
“My…our species can't get pregnant…so…” He shakes his head.
You sigh in relief. “Then..” You hesitate before finally pulling out. You can't take your eyes off his dripping pussy.
He feels empty and you're still hard. “Did you hate it?” He asks.
“I didn't.”
“Then..” Dan Heng turns onto his stomach, raising his ass high. “One more time..?” He can't believe he's doing this.
There's nothing stopping you.
He grins dumbly as he feels your cocks entering him again. “So good..” He mumbles. He loves how warm your hands are and how tightly they're holding his waist.
You breathe out as you reach his womb again, no resistance whatsoever. “I can't believe it..” You slowly thrust in and out of him, marveling at this scientifically impossible situation.
You shudder as you watch a cloudhymn tentacle cover your lengths completely, making it feel even better for the both of you. “Fuck-” You thrust into him harder.
“Yes- yes yes–” Dan Heng���s eyes roll to the back of his head. You reach over to stroke his t-dick, helping him get closer to his peak.
Neither of you last very long, filling him up with another thick load. You take a moment before pulling out again. You notice his body going limp. He passed out. You lay him down on his back and think about how you're gonna get him cleaned up without running into anyone else on the express.
Aside from the obvious reasons, you definitely don't want anyone looking at him. He's yours now, you should be the only one who sees him like this.
#wicks🕯works#top male reader#male reader#ftm character#dan heng x reader#dan heng smut#dan heng x male reader#honkai star rail x male reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail smut#wicks🕯series#tw dubious consent
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satellite | jjk



plot | Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.
w.c | 3K
genre | fluff, slight angst, fwb (but nothing 18+ happened)
pairing | jungkook x medstudent!reader
note | written from my own swamp of academic-related activities
main masterlist | playlist

JK
u up?
You
yep
i'm studying
exams tomorrow
JK
:(
can i come over
You
yes but don't be a distraction
JK
u know i can't help it 😪
You
🙄
i'm busy stop texting me
JK
will be there in five
You
door's open no need to knock
JK
see u 😉

Maybe you should have just pursued a course in creative writing... Or maybe culinary arts. Maybe something connected with baking. You love baking, right?
Maybe if you picked a college program based on your hobbies, you have better sleep. Maybe you are happier. At 11:51 PM, maybe you are already sleeping soundly on your bed, next to your emotional support stuffed toy, with your favorite weighted blanket on your exhausted being.
But you didn't. You can't.
So here you are, sitting in a swamp of written notes, books, and colorful post-its (that you haven't found any helpful use yet), having a crisis over your career choices.
"You want this, YN." you remind yourself, shaking your head.
Your digital clock on your study desk just ticked the time to 11:52 PM. It has been almost three hours since you began your planned all-nighter for tomorrow's exam.
"I want to cry." you sighed, your forehead softly hitting your desk. "But I don't have the time for that."
Groaning, you opened one of the textbooks you borrowed from the library. You tried to process every word you came across. But considering that you went straight from your eight-hour shift from your part-time job, you only managed to comprehend half of the sentences you read.
"I wish I was born as a nepo-baby."
Another random thought rolled off your tongue instead of understanding where the hell the spine of the scapula is. Admittedly, you find it hard to locate the muscles in the human body when you only have a 2D version of it. But you don't have those 3D models that can help you to learn and remember better, so you will settle for pointing your index fingers at flat images on the book pages.
"Trapezius... Acromion... Deltoid..."
Reciting the muscles in the familiar tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star", you began pointing to certain areas of your body. It was one of the studying techniques you have been using since you were younger. So far, it's helping. You keep doing it for the other parts.
"Subscapularis..."
But the longer you sang, the words slowly rambled in your tongue and your eyelids got heavier. You were so close to drifting away until you heard the familiar click of your door. Your head snapped up instantly. You hear his voice greeting your roommate who's probably watching her favorite show in the living room.
"Pizza and ice cream. Want some?" you heard him offer.
He brought food?! Of course, he did. He's Jungkook. For the first time since you sat in front of your study desk, a smile formed on your lips. Shaking your head, you just read your notes again. It didn't take long for your bedroom door to open. The scent of a freshly baked pizza filled every corner of your room. And there, you see him coming in with a smile on his pierced lips.
"Oh, hello, gorgeous."
Jungkook was surprised to see you already looking at him when he entered your room. Usually, he would find your nose dipped between your textbooks when he visits during your study sessions.
You rolled your eyes at the nickname, "I know, I looked like a mess right now. Just give me my prized pizza and ice cream please."
He laughed, not because he agreed with you, but because you are always quick to turn down his micro-flirting. He sometimes thinks that it keeps him grounded.
"And you got the coffee ones! This is why you're my favorite hookup buddy." you quipped before kissing his cheek, elated by the ice cream he got you.
"I'm honored. Thank you." he replied, before getting a slice of pizza.
Both of you know that you don't have any other hookup buddy. You're not that adventurous. It's just something you joke about.
"How's the studying going?" he asked before sitting on your bed.
"Shit." you shake your head, tired. "But this ice cream makes me feel a little better."
Jungkook smiled at that. He listened as you went on telling him about something that happened in your shift earlier today. But he ended up studying you. Because contrary to what you said earlier, you are too pretty, he finds it distracting. You were tired, it's written on your face. But the way your eyes light up as you share your story makes your face glow. With your desk lamp being the only light in your room, it perfectly highlights the small smile on your lips after you take another spoonful of the cold dessert.
"Why did you come here anyway?"
Your sudden question snaps Jungkook out of his daze. He cleared his throat.
"I-I'm bored and you're up."
He was not bored. In fact, he missed a party he was invited to tonight because it has been four days since he last saw you. He was busy with his training and practice, while you were working two jobs and studying. You two were just texting each other these days and with how rare you reply during the daytime, he knew that tonight is probably the best time to see you.
You sigh, "I told you, I'm studying for tomorrow. I can't do anything with you right now."
"And I didn't say we have to do anything. I'm just happy to be here. I'm like little Bear right there." he replied, pointing to your stuffed toy who was sitting next to him.
"Okay, I'll go back to studying. Is that okay?" you asked, putting on the lid of your half-finished ice cream.
He winked, "Of course."

Jungkook is that person you probably know for too long. Like, someone you should have met only once or twice or occasionally. Not like this, in which you see each other almost every day.
When Liz, your roommate, introduced you two to each other during some Halloween party, in which you came as Dorothy from The Wizards of Oz and he was Peter Pan, you did not expect to start any kind of connection with him. You remembered thinking to yourself how exhausting it was to have him around with how he seemed so full of energy, not knowing then that he also enjoyed the same little things you did. You two became real friends after bumping into one another in a record store an hour away from your uni.
Because you feel that you two always stood on opposite ends of any scale. You were a reserved working student with introverted tendencies while on the opposite, Jungkook is a known varsity star, who's rumored to be a CEO's son (He is. He admitted it to you), on campus with a charm that works for everyone. Just like how great he is at playing basketball, he is equally good at socializing and making new connections. That charm definitely worked for you a year ago because one thing led to another and now, he is in your bed, casually scrolling on his phone.
"Why do you have a camera with you?" you broke the silence after reading for god knows how long. Yet, you are unsure if you picked up anything from it.
He looked up, reaching for the camera bag he brought with him earlier, "It's a new one, my dad brought it to me as a gift."
"For what? Your birthday was like three months ago," you asked even though you already had an answer in your head.
"I helped him with some documents," he replied, knowing that you would say something after.
"Spoiled." you teased him.
"Haters gonna hate," he responded with a sassy roll of his eyes, you laughed. "Anyway, I'm kinda testing it out. So, if you don't mind..."
He placed the camera in front of him, aligning its viewfinder to his left eye. You put the back of your hand under your chin with a tight smile on your lips, posing. Click. A shutter sound and a bright flash followed. You see Jungkook look down at his camera to check the outcome. A small smile forms on his lips.
"You have too many pictures of me," you told him.
Every single time you two are together, he takes a picture of you. You don't really mind even though some shots are candid. Some of the pictures of you he took are the only ones you have on your Instagram. He's good at it, but sometimes, you worry you will get used to being his muse.
"I'm thinking of making an exhibition out of it." he said.
Sensing his sarcasm, you ride on with it, "Yeah, you can title it with something like, The Life Of An Overworked Twenty-Something Student. I looked exhausted in all those photos. An ugly, dry potato."
"I think you look pretty in all of them."
And it didn't help that he complimented you a lot after taking pictures of you. It just scares you that you feel a light feeling in your stomach when you see him smile after taking a shot of you or when he calls you gorgeous or pretty.
But instead of letting the giddy feeling show, you just smiled, "Of course you do, you're sleeping with me. You will always find me attractive."

It was almost an hour later when Jungkook paused the video he was watching on his phone to once again try his camera. A camera nerd, he was watching a clip about his new camera's settings. Of course, he was in his earphones so that he wouldn't get to distract you.
After modifying some parts of the settings, Jungkook placed his camera in front of his right eye, ready to capture another picture of you. But before he could click the button, he noticed your shoulders shaking.
His right eyebrow raised as he slowly put down his camera.
"YN?"
He heard you hiccup before humming, "Hmm?"
"YN, can you look at me?" he asked since you kept your back turned to him.
"Not now, I'm busy." you sobbed, failing to hide from Jungkook.
He frowned, getting up from your bed, "YN, baby..."
"No, I said-"
Before you could continue denying, Jungkook already pulled the swivel chair you were sitting on closer to him. You covered your face with your palms since you hated crying in front of anyone. Jungkook tries to remove it softly but you shake your head.
"Please, let me see your face. It's okay," he whispered while his thumbs drew circles at the back of your hands. Finally, you listened and let him hold down your hands.
"Shh..." he hushed you, wiping the tears on your cheeks. "What's going on? Are you okay? Is there any way that I can help you?"
"I-I cannot remember anything and I'm just so tired." you broke down, feeling the exhaustion from both studying and working finally creeping up in your body.
"Then, take a break. Let's nap." he offered, knowing how much you need it.
You cried even more, "I can't nap. My exams are tomorrow and I can't understand anything I've been reading so far."
He clicked his tongue in disagreement, "I'll wake you up in thirty minutes. How about that?"
While his offer seemed ideal for you, the pressure for what is coming tomorrow is heavily sitting on your shoulders. But you're really tired.
"Just nap?" you asked, making sure that it won't lead to anything else.
"Yeah— Okay, maybe cuddle." he shrugged.
"Okay." I kinda need that.
"Okay. C'mere, my snotty baby." He cooed.
You glared at him before slapping his chest. He laughed, catching your hand and pulling you to him on your bed. You fell on top instead of your mattress, feeling his toned body under you. His chin rests on the top of your head as he draws circles on your lower back.
"Let's do anything you want after your exams," he mumbled.
You exhaled, "Why celebrate? I am not even sure if I can pass it."
"You will. You're the smartest person I know."
This isn't the first time Jungkook saw you broke down over academic reasons. He knew how much you value your studies as someone who has always been an achiever since you began studying. It didn't help that your mom expects quite a lot from you, based on what you told him.
You looked up to meet his eyes, "Thank you."
He simply kissed your forehead, "Of course, babe."

You did find yourself feeling much better after your 30-minute rest. But, you also found something else when you woke five minutes ago next to Jungkook. It's something that can probably help you study.
"Take off your shirt," you whispered as you rested your head on his arm.
"Why?" he asked, suspicious.
"I think you can help me study," you said, sitting up on the bed.
Jungkook sat next to you, "I thought we were just cuddling."
"Jungkook." you called him. "Please, just do it."
"Okay, I will. You know I can't say no when you beg, babe." he teased.
You watched him reach for the back of his shirt and remove it over his head. With how cold your room is, Jungkook immediately crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge before you. You were quiet, squinting your eyes on his arms.
Feeling a little conscious and confused, Jungkook spoke, "It's a little chilly here. What now?"
"Wait, let me get my sticky notes."

"You know, I should be paid for this," Jungkook spoke, covered in neon-colored sticky notes from his neck to his back and arms. "I am like your model."
"You are my 3d model." you laughed while tracing his body with your finger to look where you could stick your next label. "I'm too broke to buy one so just be my friend and let me put some sticky notes on you."
"I'll just buy you one." he offered and he's serious. If it's something that can help you, he'll buy it for you.
"You sound like the spoiled kid you are." you joked.
"I like it when you keep me humble and grounded," he reacted sarcastically. Out of a hundred people he knows on the campus, you are the only one who always reminds him of his privileges. He found it annoying at first but now, he just finds it funny.
"I know, it shows especially when you get all submissive sometimes." you joked again, scrunching your nose at him.
"Why won't you just let me spend money on you?" he asked, recalling the other scenarios he tried buying or doing something for you. But you were quick to decline him, especially if it's connected with money.
You stopped and stared at him, "For the tenth time, Jeon, I will not be your sugar baby."
"Or you can just be my... baby," he whispered, but since you are the only awake people in this house at this time of the day, you still heard that.
Your eyebrows scrunched, looking at him. Visibly cringing at what he said, you pushed his face with a laugh. You hear him chuckle lowly.
"If you want someone to be your baby, you should be asking girls out, not signing up for a friends-with-benefits-type of relationship with me," you mumbled while writing a certain body part on your notepad.
It is part of your agreement that this thing you two have will end once one of you starts dating again. But the idea of him asking girls out after literally sleeping on your bed for the last twelve months still made your heart sink a little. You cannot imagine how your future will be without him, you still haven't thought that far.
"I know..." he whispered. But you're not up for any commitment. He wanted to say that. Instead, he replied, "But you give the best blowjob ever. How can I look for someone else?"
You laughed again. God, he loves making you laugh. It's like a melody playing in his head.
"Yeah, I know. It will be hard to find someone better than me. I'm the best."
Yes, you are. He agreed, almost saying it if you haven't spoke to soon.
"Now, please, can you stop moving? My notes are falling everywhere."

"Hi, I'm Mabel."
It's been days since that night. Now, a blonde, blue-eyed girl offered her hand to Jungkook while he prepared to leave the campus with his car after his basketball training. Jungkook, being polite, introduced himself even though he was not really interested. He continued making sure he got all his stuff in his backpack as the girl continued saying that they had two classes together. When he was done checking, she spoke,
"I think you're really cute and was wondering if we could go out sometime? Maybe we can grab some coffee together?"
Jungkook scratched the back of his head, feeling bad for what he was about to say to this seeming freshman before him. A tight smile forms on his lips. This isn't the first confession he got in his lifetime, but rejecting someone is always hard.
"Wow... uhm... I'm sure you're a really wonderful person, Mabel. But I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now. I'm sorry."
The familiar flustered face instantly showed up on Mabel's face, "Oh, okay. Uhm, thank you for your time. Nice to meet you though."
Jungkook was not even able to reply before she ran away. It didn't took him too long to dwell on that interaction when he got a message from you.
YN 🩺
I PASSED
COME OVER!!!!1!
Jungkook smiled after reading that, feeling your relief and excitement. He typed in a reply before hopping in his car.
JK
I KNEW U CAN DO IT
SO PROUD OF YOUUU
WILL BE THERE IN FIVE ;)

note | scheduled as my first post for 2025 :) thank you so much for reading!
ps. will probably delete this later on
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ISTANBUL OBESİTY CENTER (4)

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For those considering a budget-friendly option, the cost of the gastric balloon weight loss compared to other countries. With trusted weight loss surgery Turkey increasingly becoming a popular destination for medical tourists, countless individuals are reaping the benefits of this transformative procedure.
How Much is Gastric Balloon
When considering gastric balloon weight loss, one of the first questions that comes to mind is, How much is gastric balloon treatment? Understanding the costs associated with this procedure is crucial for making an informed decision. In Turkey, where trusted weight loss surgery is gaining popularity, the prices for gastric balloon procedures are typically more affordable than in many Western countries.
The average cost of the gastric balloon procedure in Turkey can range significantly based on the clinic and the expertise of the medical professionals involved. Generally, you might expect to pay considerably less than $5,000, which often includes comprehensive packages covering costs such as preoperative assessments, post-operative care, and accommodation.
Invest in your health and well-being by opting for gastric balloon weight loss in a reputable Turkish facility, where expert care meets affordability. Schedule a consultation today to get an accurate quote tailored to your specific needs and start your journey towards a healthier lifestyle.
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