#Swollen battery is so scaries to me...

[lesbianraskolnikov]

Guh.... I need to take care of my old 3DS . Her battery

[hellohellohellobingmetropcs]

*wheezes* 👏🏾 meep

The smell of fresh baked cookies and buttery popcorn invaded everyone's nostrils on a dim Tuesday night. The lights were off, living room lit only with colored battery-powered led lights Edwin brought for the house from Amazon.

Tonight was movie night with the guys and of course their votes outweighed the girls. They decided on Halloween, a horror movie. Horror movies weren't really your thing. You'd normally watch half and then zone out through the other half to save yourself the nightmares when you went to sleep.

"Do we have to watch this?" Ansley asked, annoyed also. You sided with her, trying to convince the guys to go for a comedy but their minds were made up.

"It's not that scary" Nick muttered, pressing play on the movie.

Throughout the film you gradually moved from next to Zion to completely in his lap.

Your lips fell into pout as you pulled the covers to your eyes to keep from seeing people get caught and murdered.

"You okay mamas?"

You head shook feverishly before turning to your boyfriend, throwing your head over his shoulder. His hands rested over the thin material of your pajama shorts on your ass.

Zion's chuckle vibrated your body, "you're a big ass baby"

You plucked his ear, "Leave me alone"

As boredom clouded your brain you grew interest in Zion's face. His square jaw, light lashes, almond shaped eyes, perfect smile .. all breathtaking features he possessed.

Your boredom drew you to draw circles on his back. Inch by inch your lips rolled closer to his neck. Your lips latched onto an open area of skin, lightly nibbling down.

Zion's head leaned back in pleasure for you to continue. Your hips slowly started to grind against the thin cotton fabric of his pajama pants. It wasn't long before you could feel Daquavius growing in his pants.

You let out a hearty shudder at the touch of his cold hands inserting your pajama shorts.

Everyone looked back at you two on the couch suspiciously. It was a known fact you and Zion can't ever keep your hands off eachother so it wouldn't be no surprise to catch you two in the moment. It's not like all his band mates haven't walked in on you guys before.

Zion's free hand rubbed your back "It's not that scary mamas" , playing it off. Heads slowly started turning back to the cinema.

"He brought his hands out your pants, sucking his middle finger before bringing it to his lips to hush you. You nodded in compliance, hungry for his touch.

His hand slid back into your shorts, thumb rubbing against your swollen clit in circular motions. His right thumb rested between your lips for you to suck on.

A smirk spread across Zion's lips as he dragged his fingers down your lips, playing in your wetness before inserting two fingers in your heat.

He started off with two fingers, gradually adding a third.

Your hips gently rocked to the beat of his fingers. "Good girl"

Zion lifted the covers to your shoulders as a curtain. He pulled your shirt up, exposing your breast. He was careful to quietly suck on your boobs, lightly running his teeth across your nipple.

Your suck on his thumb became more harsh after completing eye contact with him. Your legs began to tremble from the double pleasure. A burning fire inside of you just wanted to scream and pant his name.

The familiar blissful feeling stirred up in your stomach.

Your hand harshly gripped his wrist in protest. He brought his lips to your ear, "You cummin princess?"

Your head nodded, mouth gaped open. A small cocky chuckle left his mouth as he watched you unwind in his lap.

A sudden gasp for air filled your lungs for a breath of air you didn't know you needed. Thank god the girl on tv getting murder had screams that masked your noise.

Zion peeled the covers back, staring at his wet lap.

His surprised face turned into an amused one. Plenty of giggles from him filled the room, not capturing anyone's attention this time.

Your limp legs sprawled out over his lap with your head slung over his shoulder.

[sashatrr]

Breathe with me. Chapter 19

Chaptere 18 here

Hana entered her room and threw  Masquerade mask on the bed. She was more excited than usual but also very stressed. For a months following that night when Liam threw her away like a broken toy, she was trying to find something that would destroy his marriage. He didn't look at her once since she came back to court and Hana was smart enough to understand that she doesn't attract him anymore. But would it change, she will take any opportunity. Despite the pain he caused, despite his disinterest in her, she loved him desperately and couldn't imagine a better thing in this life than to be by his side, to be held by him like once before and to be loved back. 

And now, after months she spent, desperately looking for a tiniest hint of scandal, tiniest weakness in Liam's privacy, she finally heard something interesting. 

If Muhammad doesn't come to a mountain then a mountain will come to Muhammad. I might never get another chance so I must to orchestrate the situation, to make sure that there will be a scandal that will ruin this marriage. But how? Good thing that I can use Rashad but this is not enough. Maybe if I had someone who is close to Liam all the time. I need someone who will give me the information. So far I have nothing. 

Hana found her phone under pile of clothes and dialed a number. 

-Good morning, father. I hope I didn't wake you up. 

-Good morning, Hana. No, you didn't. I am already working. Everything is fine? - she heard reply. 

Hana knew that her father didn't like when she called for no reason and even more than that he hated his work to be interrupted so she went straight to the point. 

-Father, I need a help. Dad, it's very important. Can you find a way to bribe one of Liam's bodyguards or something? 

-Liam? As a king of Cordonia? Hana, my girl, why do you need me to bribe one of his bodyguards? First of all, this is impossible. Second, I don't like sound of that. Have you lost your mind? What do you want to do to Liam? 

-I am not going to do anything to Liam and I haven't lost my mind. It's opposite. I want to do what you sent me here for.  - Hana replied to her father. 

-We sent you there to find a good match, Hana. The King is married already so you must focus on Lord Rashad. That's why you were sent back to the court. 

-And what if I tell you that I can change that? - Hana was desperate to convince her father. Without her parents help she was designed to fail. She had no needed connections.

-Is that a possibility, Hana? Do you think that its possible? You failed when he was single and looking for a bride. What makes you think that you can succeed now when he is married? - There was confusion in Mr. Lee voice. 

-Now he doesn't have Constantine to make choices for him, dad. - Hana was bluffing and she knew it. Even without Constantine she was far from conquesting Liam. 

-We can't talk about it on the phone, my child - Mr. Lee replied after a minute.-Come home so we can discuss everything. 

-OK, father… - Hana started but was interrupted. 

-No, me and your mother will come to Cordonia. If what you are saying is possible, I need to be there and see what I can do. 

Hana said goodbye to her father and unzipped a dress. On a bright side, she already had a friend in Madeleine's entourage and Penelope was clueless enough to become Hana's tool. 

***

Madeleine was sitting in front of the mirror  removing make up. She was restless, a desire was driving her crazy but there was no way to satisfy it right now. Finally she was done, Madeleine rubbed night cream into her skin and grabbed  phone to check a schedule. Adjusting to the role of Queen kept her busy and somewhat distracted from what her body needed. 

According to her schedule, this week her and Liam had to attend European Union leaders summit in Paris. While Liam would be meeting with presidents and prime ministers, she would be stuck with their wives smiling for the pictures. But at least she will have nights all for herself. 

That's my last chance before I am getting pregnant. 

After that it will be to dangerous for a baby. 

Liam wasn't kidding when he said that her funds will be very limited but she had money from her estate. 

Just this one time. Luck is on my side, Paris is the place I need. It won't be cheap but I can't resist. Time to renew my membership. 

Madeleine walked to the bedroom, got in her bed and turned off the lamp. Her fingers touched a swollen bud and she moaned loudly. 

***

Meanwhile in New York Lina just came home after having coffee with Thomas. They met right after she called him and Lina suspected that he had to cancel a few meetings for it but she wasn't sure. 

She felt very awkward at first but Thomas didn't touch any sensitive subjects and after thirty minutes it felt like a meeting of two friends. 

Lina didn't love him, her heart belonged to Liam but just now she realized that she was missing him. The evenings they spent in his apartments talking about anything and everything, that feeling of stability he was giving her. But at the same time Lina knew that it would be cruel to string him along. He needed to forget about her and the best way to do it was to never see her again. With a heavy heart Lina said that it's their last meeting. He needed closure and she gave it to him. 

Lina took a quick shower, changed and then got a phone out of her purse. It was dead, she forgot to charge it a night before. She wondered if Liam tried to call her while her phone was dead but laughed at herself. Wistful thinking. He hasn't called her for days and it made her to feel forgotten and neglected. At least she could comfort herself imagining that he tried to call her but her phone was dead. 

She plugged the charger in, waited a minute and turned the phone on. In thirty seconds the screen lighted up and Lina entered her pin. Almost immediately the phone in her hand buzzed and she saw Liam's picture on the screen but before she could answer the call, the phone went dead again. She put it in the night table and sat on the bed. Her heart was beating so fast that she heard every beat. A happiness washed over her. 

He didn't forget about me. He called. 

But as quick as it came, her happiness was replaced with disgust.

Lina was disgusted with herself. It took only seeing his name on the screen to make her a completely happy person. She realized what a huge power over her he has now. 

This is really scary. God, I am so scared. He isn't mine, he is many kilometers away hidden behind palace walls and bodyguards. He can toss me away any second and I'll never see him again. Who am I in his life? Just a toy he can play with for a few months? For a year? Or maybe he doesn't want me anymore? He can have any woman he wants. How will I survive it? Will I survive it when he will want to move on? Or maybe that's what he wants now. 

He had a power to smash her heart into million pieces  and she will never be able to gather those pieces together again, she just knew it somehow. Right in this moment she realized that this is it, her "once in lifetime" love. Even if they spent together only one month, it was enough to make Liam a center of Lina's universe. 

With a shaking hand she reached for her phone and tried to turn it on again. The battery was at ten percent already so she dialed Liam's number. 

Liam answered  almost immediately. 

-Lin, are you alright? - she heard his voice even before she had time to say hello. 

-Yes, yes I am. And you? 

-Not so good- he replied. - Your phone was off, then you declined my call so I was worried. Mara wouldn't tell me anything. 

Lina giggled quietly. 

-Did you call her? Because I sent her home after an interview. 

-What interview? - Liam asked, there was a concern in his voice for some reason. 

-Job interview. I had one earlier today. Haven't Mara told you? 

-No, she refused to say anything about you. Said that I gave her some order not to report to me. 

Lina giggled again. 

-Well, anyway, this interview went really well and I am hoping to have this job. Then Mara can return to Cordonia because there is no way she would follow me to my work. - Lina said remembering her earlier decision to put an end to this elitarist madness. She wasn't some kind of celebrity to be followed by bodyguards. 

-Mara is not returning to Cordonia. If you don't want to have her with you all the time that's alright. But at least allow her to be there, just in case of emergency. It's a life, baby. Anything could happen.

-Okay, she can stay here as my roommate then. This place is to big for me anyway. - Lina was glad that she managed to solve this so quick. There was no point to insist for Mara to leave. They hardly ever met inside of penthouse, Mara's room was in another wing. - So enough about me. How are you doing for real? 

Lina heard Liam's breath, like something was waging him. 

-I am okay I guess. The Masquerade is wrapping up right now, I left early.

-A Masquerade-Lina repeated. - Sounds fancy. Did you have fun? 

-It was okay but honestly, I wish I could skip it and talk to you instead. And sleep for some twenty hours after. - His voice really did sound tired. 

Lina closed her eyes enjoying the sound  of his voice. She missed him so much. She wanted nothing more but to be held by him again, just to put her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. 

I wish. He won't be returning to me after hard day at work like it happens with everyone else. 

Lina snapped out of her thoughts. 

-Baby are you there? - she heard Liam asking. 

-Yes I am, sorry. What did you say? 

-I said that I might come to New York in two weeks. 

Lina's heart dropped. Two weeks. It was too long. She needed to see him sooner, much sooner. 

-That's great. - she couldn't   hide disappointment in her voice but Liam interpreted it in his own way. 

-You don't sound to happy about it.- his voice now mirrored hers, full of disappointment. 

-I am. I'll be glad to see you. - Lina held her tongue back, she didn't want to sound desperate. Anything to hide how desperately she missed him. 

-Me too. I miss you. I really do. - Liam added quietly and Lina's heart melted a bit, he sounded so sincere. 

-Me too, Liam. I miss you too. 

They spoke a bit longer but Liam sounded so tired that Lina finished a call sending him to get some sleep. 

Next morning a phone call woke Lina up. Without looking at callers ID she picked up and heard female voice in the other end. 

-Good morning, miss Andrews. It's Rebecca Mason from Nixon Technologies. 

Lina sat straight in her bed trying to sound like she woke up hours ago and not just now. 

-Good morning, miss Mason. 

-Your candidature was approved. Thought not for a position you originally applied for. 

Lina rubbed her eyes in confusion. 

-What does it mean?-she asked. 

-You see, miss Andrews, there was a situation. To keep it short, mister Nixon needs to replace his assistant and he approved your resume for it. 

Lina gasped. Even she knew that Nixon from Nixon Technologies had to be some nob on the very top. 

-But I wasn't applying for assistant position. I don't even have a necessary experience. 

-Nevertheless the position is yours, Miss Andrews. 

Lina wanted to pinch herself to check if she was still sleeping and all of it was just a dream. 

-Who is mister Nixon anyway? - she asked. 

There was a few moments of silence on the other end before woman answered. 

-Mister Nicholas Nixon, a chief executive officer of Nixon Technologies, miss Andrews. - there was less patience in woman's voice now. - So are you interested? 

Lina doubted for only a few seconds. After so many failures she finally got a job and not just any job. She had to try. Even if she will fail, at least she tried. 

-Yes, yes I am. When do you need me to start? - Lina said quickly. 

-Yesterday, miss Andrews. The sooner is better. Normally you would have two weeks before you could take the position but mister Nixon can not exist without assistant for so long. Could you start tomorrow? 

-Yes of course. - Lina discussed some details and finished a call. 

Immediately she opened Google on her phone and searched the name. She scrolled through several articles and images and rolled her eyes. Hundreds of pictures from charity galas and other red carpet events, always with different women. Not even two pictures with the same one. She wasn't surprised though. Who could resist such a man? 

Great, she will be working for famous New York playboy. 

***

Liam was sitting on a boring meeting with his cabinet of ministers preparing for a Paris summit. He didn't need to listen to them because he heard all of it a hundred times before and read it all in their reports to him but years of training were paying off, he was nodding in all right moments and asking all the right questions even if he knew the answer already. Every minister thought that his area of responsibility is the most important one and his matters should be brought up first and discussed with one or another European leader. But Liam wasn't going to discuss any of that with any of the leaders. It was all internal affairs of Cordonia, he was going to keep his country independent as much as its possible in current global political situation. Economically the country was thriving thanks to his father and Liam was going to follow his steps keeping at heart only interest of his people, no ones else. 

Finally the meeting was over and Liam raised from his chair. He walked through long palace halls to his study and opened a door to see Drake pacing the floor nervously. 

-Drake? Is everything alright? - Liam asked concerned for his friend. 

-I don't know. - Drake answering stopping to pace just long enough to look at Liam. - I found a lead. 

-A lead? - Liam asked confused. 

-I know where Savannah can be. - Drake answered impatiently. 

Liam smiled and crossed the room to his chair. 

-That's great, Drake. Finally. So where is she? 

-I think that she is in Paris. You are going there this week, right? - Drake asked hopefully. 

-Yes, we are heading there tomorrow night. 

Drake's shoulders dropped. He was clearly impatient to check this lead but feared to do this alone. 

-But we can leave in two hours. I can clear my schedule. There is nothing that can't wait till next week.-Liam continued. 

-Yes! - Drake was almost yelling by now. 

-Very well. 

Liam dialed his secretary number. 

-Stavros, let Bastien know that we are heading to Paris in two hours. Also cancel all my meetings and let her Majesty know that her and her ladies in waiting must be ready by then. Also warn a staff in my Paris residence that we are arriving earlier than expected. 

-Yes, Sire. - he heard a reply and finished a call. 

***

Hana was walking palace corridor when she saw staff hurriedly carrying bags from Liam's and Madeleine wing of the palace. She knew that they shouldn't leave until tomorrow. 

Hana stopped one of the footman and asked him what's going on. 

-Their Majesties are leaving early, Mylady. - footman answered and hurried away. 

Hana wondered if this change of plans had anything to do with conversation she overheard last night on Masquerade. 

It could be. Liam might be impatient to see what Paris has to offer him. Anyway I must be there. 

Hana hurried to her room and pulled an app on her phone. She checked when the next flight to Paris leaves. It was in four hours from now. Enough time to pack a bag and get to airport. Hana booked a place in the first class and called a maid to prepare her bag. She didn't need to pack much. Anything she lacks could be bought there. The only thing she really wanted couldn't be packed or bought. 

@indiacater​ @drakesensworld​ @annekebbphotography​ @hopefulmoonobject​  @jared2612​ @dcbbw​

[blackleatherjacketz]

Fast and Loose

(Gifs aren’t mine)

I’ve reached 400+ Followers❤️💖💙

Here is a Rosa/Negan Fic as promised. Thank you for all of your love and support!!!!

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99) x Negan (The Walking Dead)

What if Rosa was alone at the end of the world, and ran into Negan? 

Warnings: NSFW, Negan Swearing, Negan trying his best to intimidate the great and powerful Rosa Diaz, Lucille, Theft, Rosa insulting Dwight and Simon

Tags: @sonnshineandrainbows @chelseafartnoise @acutecupidity @mblaqgi @destiel-lover321 @collette04 @dramaqueenarg @skittle479 @space-carisi @firedav2k18 @haleyea @negans-network

Rosa sits alone at the end of a long table, the sole of her boot resting on the chair next to her hip. She had been waiting for what seemed like hours for the next person to come in and talk to her, but it may as well have been minutes, or weeks. The clock on the wall had clearly run out of batteries, and she knew this ‘hurry up and wait’ tactic all too well. She had used it on her suspects a thousand times.

The only door to the room opens as a man finally walks in. He twirls a baseball bat around his hips, chuckling slyly as he steps closer. A black leather jacket wraps around his tall yet slender frame, gray jeans covering his long legs with a belt that had long since reached its last notch. From the looks of it, he had been struggling just as much as she had these past few years.

“So, you’re my little thief, huh?” His smile is malevolent, delicious as it spreads across a set of perfect white teeth. “Damn, were those tomatoes and loaves of bread really worth it?”

Oh no, he’s gorgeous; that smile, his stature, those eyes… play it cool, Rosa, play it cool. It’s probably just been too long since you’ve had any human contact. It has nothing to do with him; nothing to do with him at all.

He hits the table with his baseball bat, doing his best to frighten her as a sexy sneer paints his face. Something about him reminds her of Adrian, a wild and unnamable madness lighting up his eyes. She feels the same pull she did with him, that primal urge to crash into him until there is nothing left but skin and sweat. That urge to smack his face and pull his hair, to bite his lips and rip off his clothes. She has the urge to feel something good, and that’s entirely new for her since the world had turned upside down.

“I thought we had a pretty good perimeter set up around here, but apparently that wasn’t good enough.” He saunters over and sits on the table in front of her. “You seem to have no problem sneaking in here in the middle of the night and taking all of my shit!” He tosses the baseball bat in the air and grabs it at the base with a gloved hand.

“Now, I know Fat Joey has a lot to learn, and he could be a little more spry, but he’s loyal, and when he and Arat brought you to my attention, I almost had a mind to put you in the hole.” He sets the bat down on the table next to him.

“Why are you only wearing one glove?” She smirks, chuckling under her breath.

He raises his eyebrows, exasperated by her reaction.

“I was gonna steal some of your guns, and one of your motorcycles, too, until you guys stopped me.” She looks up at him and grabs the bat, twisting it around in a circle to get a better look at the barbed wire wound around it. “It’s pretty dope that your head of security is a woman, and a woman of color, too.” She nods in approval and leans back in her seat, folding her hands behind her head.

The man furrows his brow. He looks at her, then at his glove. He looks at the bat, then back at Rosa. This man has never been cut off before.

“Did you… do you know who I am?” He picks up the bat and stands up.

“Nope.” She looks aimlessly around the room, leaning back even further. “But I bet you’re in charge because you came in after Quasimodo and Wyatt Earp; who are shit interrogators, by the way.”

She takes in a deep breath and looks at him. “Can I have my stuff back now?”

“Your stuff?” He swallows hard and forces a smile, his jugular vein distending against his leather jacket.

She can tell that she’s starting to push his buttons, to really get under his skin. She can tell that losing control of the situation is a new and unwelcome experience for him; that he must be used to instilling fear into others, and not the other way around. She wonders if it’s exciting him as much as it’s exciting her.

“Your stuff?” He grabs her by the jacket and shoves her up against the wall. “’Your stuff’ belongs to me, now.”

Ah, there it is. He looks even hotter when he’s angry. Rosa smiles as he grips her clothes tighter, peering into her eyes. He bites his lip as he takes her in, fighting for dominance as he tries his best to psyche her out.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” She grabs the knife from his holster and presses it against his throat.

“Holy shit! Okay! Yeah! You got me!” He lets go of her jacket, raising both hands in surrender. “I messed with the wrong bitch today, didn’t I?” He chuckles and tilts his head sideways as she moves the knife upwards, inspecting his throat.

“Shut up.” She orders, tracing her fingertips down the shell of his ear.

“You like to be in charge, baby? That’s fine.” He laughs, a drop of blood dripping down his Adam’s apple.

“I’m always in charge.” Rosa walks forward, backing the man against the table as the knife threatens to break more skin. She unzips his leather jacket and unfastens it’s belt.

“Oh shit, are you serious?” The man stops as the table hits just below his knees, forcing him to sit down. “I mean, I was going to try to work up to this a little later, but you’re already rip roaring, ready to go, aren’t you? Goddamn, I love a woman who takes charge! They’re hard to…”

“You talk too much.” Rosa drops the knife and pushes him onto his back. She climbs on top of him, grabbing his chin and pushes it upward. “Has anyone ever told you that?” She opens her mouth and licks the blood off his neck, leaving a trail of moisture up his throat and chin before reaching his mouth.

His flavor hits her like a tsunami; a mixture of beer and salt washing over her as she pulls his jacket off his arms. She keeps her mouth on his, licking and biting as she rips his white t-shirt in half. God, he looks so fucking good. She hears the baseball bat roll off the table and onto floor as she removes her own jacket and t-shirt. How is it that they were wearing the exact same outfit?

She smoothes her palms up the length of his chest, making him groan as she grinds into his hips. She can feel how big he is as she rocks back and forth, her full and hungry lips curling into a smile for the first time in months. She keeps her eyes on his ruggedly handsome face as this beautiful monster submits to her. What a good little boy.

He growls as she scratches him, staring up at her with teary and grateful eyes. He lifts his hands up to touch her breasts, but is quickly rejected as she swats them away.

“Not yet.” She teases, undoing his belt and zipper.

He laughs and runs a hand over his face, glancing down as she makes quick work of undressing the rest of his body. “Jesus, you’re feisty!” He lifts his hips so she can pull his jeans down to his ankles.

“Holy shit.” She whispers under her breath, staring at his erection. Holy shit! What in the world? She’d never seen anything so big before. Maybe that’s why he carries that stupid bat around with him, as a constant metaphor for his giant dick.

She licks her lips and finishes undressing herself, unable to climb back on top of him fast enough. She sets her hips just above his cock, letting his tip slide in between her cheeks as she teases him with her soaking wet junction.

She leans forward and pulls his head back by his hair. “Are you going to be good and do as I say?”

“Fuck yes!” He shouts, smiling as she pulls his hair even tighter. He wants to trail his hands up her ass, to feel the smooth skin above her thighs, but is afraid of what she might do if he tries. That fear makes his dick twitch and grow even more in between her rhythmically clenching cheeks.

“Good.” She slaps his face as hard as she can, grabbing his bearded chin with her tiny fingers. She sloppily licks his lips before rocking her hips on top of him. Closing her eyes, she relishes in the sensation of his skin sliding against hers, that thick and swollen member entering her, inch by monstrous inch.

“Mmm…” He hums, feeling her squeeze herself around him. He takes a chance and ghosts his fingertips on top of her thighs, causing the fine hair to stand on end under his digits. “Where have you been all my life?” He squeezes her tightly.

“New York.” She whispers, bouncing up and down on him like a pogo stick. She lets go of his chin and scratches white lines down his chest as she increases her pace; the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing against the walls of the interrogation room.

“Oh yeah, baby. Ride me until you come all over me.” He whispers, his voice a husky gray.

Rosa clenches down around him. She squeezes and relaxes as she sits back down, feeling him hit that spot each time she takes a seat. She holds onto him for dear life as she feels those waves of pleasure begin to flood over her faster and faster. Shifting her direction from up and down to side to side, she shimmies her hips in an almost circular motion.

“Christ almighty, you’re gonna make me come first, is that what you want?” He sits up on his elbows and stares at her salacious movements. His hands creep up her thighs again and pull her hips into his, forcing himself inside her so deep and so fast that her eyes roll back into her head.

The warmth of him inside her threatens to send her to Nirvana much sooner than she’s used to. Seven years without sex seemed to have made her a thousand times more sensitive than she was before. Maybe it was the time that had lapsed, or maybe this guy and his big scary dick had something to do with it. She groans idly as she rides him on this tidal wave of bliss. His big strong hands pull her ass down onto him as he pierces her cervix again and again.

“Oh my god, I’m going to come,” She whispers, feeling his balls hit her backside as she tightens up around him. “Oh my god!” She scratches her nails down his chest again, this time drawing more blood from his tanned and weathered skin. “Fuck!”

She throws her head back in ecstasy as her orgasm paralyzes her, forcing her entire body to stiffen up before falling limply on top of him.

“God, me too.” He whispers, lazily twitching and spasming inside of her. “Shit.” He thrusts himself inside of her a few more time before his thighs begin to shake.

He exhales slowly as she lay down on top of him, nestling into his neck. “Sweetheart, you sure know your way around a dick.” He runs a hand through her hair and kisses her forehead.

“Yeah. Can I have my stuff back now?”

[stone-man-warrior]

March 29, 2021: 5:34 pm:

================================================

Horrible poison attack leg rash update:

The first thing I need to explain is that when I take photos and send them in a text message to my email with my cellular phone, there is always some kind of interference that prevents me from downloading the photos to my computer from the email, today the interference was the email would not respond when I click the download button. That is one of the conditions that causes interference such that I must take extra steps in order to download my photos, such as refresh the page, or open a new window for the email page ... I have to keep trying until I am able to get the thing to work. Other times the interference is that the photos are sent to the Spam Folder where they won’t download from, and again, I must take extra steps in order to download my photos.

The people at the Centurylink/Google/Tumblr consortium of terror cells are the ones doing that, it allows the someone else is able to get my photos faster than I am able to get them, and has been happening to me for many years with each time I try to send photos to my email from my cellular phone.

=====

Other than the terror interference, the conditions of the poison rash look as though they are improving, however, the poisons are still inside the leg, and they are causing great pain and anxiety of fear for not having access to medical providers, and, knowing the reason for that is that all of the doctors in Oregon were either killed or are held captive, some of the doctors were not killed, but are forced to serve the terror army while in captivity. That is scary all by itself.

Last night, I took advantage of some places where the dead skin began to peal away, and over night, I was able to gently peel away much of that cardboard-like area that was on my shin. There is fresh, pink skin there below the wound areas. The problem is that the poisons are killing the new skin as soon as the new skin is being formed.

With some aggressive manual massage in effort to move some blood to the affected areas, I am noticing more coldness in my toes today. The aggressive massage is beneficial for moving some blood to promote healing, while at the same time is making other symptoms worse, the coldness, numb, swollen feet is the result of pushing some blood around to heal the skin at the wound areas.

It’s a “two-part, opposite extremes” terror attack done intentionally, carefully thought out to produce maximum grief, pain, and difficulty to know what is wrong with the leg and foot,

It’s clear to me that the terror soldier who attacked me was knowledgeable about how the poison would cause the problems I am having, I have no doubt that the attacker was someone who has medical training.

The Christian SDA Canadian terror soldiers are pirates, the identify with pirate themes, details about ships and sailing, and the “pirate way” ... “pirates say Aarrgghh!”. I suspect one of the poisons that was injected was Freon, the stuff used in airconditioners, and has an “Aarrgghh! Value” (R-Value). I suspect the other poison could be battery acid. If so, the Freon is staying in and around my toes, and the front part of my foot, even if I massage it away, the cold and swelling returns to the foot, and is very painful. That other major symptom is burning sensation, is very painful, and that condition lingers at the areas where the lesions are at. Another major symptom is the muscles that run along the length of my shin and calf are also extremely painful, they make a very intense muscle spasm sort of pain, as if the muscles are locked in a cramp, seized, and stiff, difficult to move the foot heal-to-toe for walking, and the whole calf from knee to toes swells up like a balloon when I make attempts to walk normally in my house to the kitchen and back to the living room. The swelling is such that it makes my pants bind up at the calf and knee, and I am wearing the most baggy, roomy pants I have.

I know who attacked me. I know exactly who it was. I don‘t have a name, I do have a nick name, a place of perceived employment, and a very detailed physical description of the terror soldier who injected me with poisons.

What I don’t have, is access to public safety personnel, law enforcement, or FBI to make a attempted murder report to, attempted murder as part of a terrorist plan to takeover USA.

Such people are not available to make reports to, and medical help is not available to US citizens in Oregon.

I have been begging for help while explaining everything I know about the terror offensive to takeover USA for many years, yet, no one has contacted me other than more terror soldiers.

Please send help to Oregon, help to stop the terror take over, and stop the mass murdering of US Citizens who are being systematically exterminated throughout the nation.

Please send medical services to Josephine county Oregon.

Joe Biden will not participate in stopping the terror takeover of USA, he is a result of the takeover, is a special operative shill in the White House, same as congress is, they are all SAG actor/shill terror operatives and are loyal to Britain, not USA.

[lokisheen]

So at Walmart

When I started my temp job, I saw there little Huggable Kitty Massager.   Rather cute, could be good for stress, but at $10 I didn’t really need it.

Fast forward two months later, my temp job is over. I spot this little kitty at Walmart, and see that its marked down to $5.  A deal!  But I was there for pens, and so left kitty there.

That day, I thought about the kitty, and how I wanted it since the first day at the job.  Fuck it, it’s $5, I’ll get it the next day.

I get to Wally World, and alas, the kitty is not there. I should have bought it! I scour shelves and topstock, making sure to walk down the aisles obeying the arrows.  Still, no kitty.  

I check the website, kitty *should* be there.  But I know these sites do not always update quickly, things get stolen, put in returns.  I get annoyed and panicky, I should have bought the kitty, should have bought the kitty.  I curse my brain, and hate that I am focused on just this one damn plushie.

I turn down the dog food aisle.  There is the kitty,  The last Huggable Kitty Massager in any Walmart in my area,  I buy said kitty. 

I get home, and get ready to see if this was worth $5.  Batteries are a pain to install (and why is the battery compartment up kitty’s ass?  Finally get batteries in, and holy cats, this this vibrates.  It’s terrifying,  I read the instructions, which include such gems as 

- The massager should not be used on swollen or inflamed body parts 

- Do not apply the unit to one spot for more than 15 minutes

-Do not use with ligaments, oil, or lotion. 

-This is NOT a toy

The laugh, and the story of finding this damn kitty, is worth $5.

But it stares at me, and it is still a tad scary,

I’ll use it to torment the cats.

[dust2dust34]

Wanna Be Yours, 6/7 (Olicity, College AU, Explicit)

Summary: College AU. Felicity’s car breaks down in a major rainstorm, sending her walking to the closest house she can find. It just so happens to belong to Oliver Queen, and he’s having a ‘Skivvies Only’ party. (See AO3 for Author’s Notes.)

A/N: I don't have words for how much the response to this fic means to me! Every single comment and kudos and reblog and retweet, it's amazing. Thank you! And now the chapter we've all been waiting for...  This wouldn't be anything without my amazing beta Margaret. She does so much for me and I'm so grateful! Enjoy!

Two more songs that were sent to me for this fic, and I have to share them! True Colors by The Weeknd via @coal000 and Slow Hands by Niall Horan via @ellefraser17. Ugh, such feels i cannot. 

(read on AO3)

(read from the beginning)

Wanna Be Yours, Part 6

He didn’t remember falling asleep.

One second he was watching an old movie about jet fighters and the next someone was carding their fingers through his hair.

Felicity.

She was back.

Finally.

Oliver turned into the touch, smiling when his nose brushed the inside of her wrist.

Not opening his eyes, he nuzzled his face into her arm before reaching for her. His hand found her legs first where she was curled up next to him. He sighed, his palm skating over her knee and thigh, up over her hip to her waist. His smile grew as he turned his entire body towards her, wrapping her up, folding into her. She said something that sounded a lot like, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” but he just hummed, angling himself so he could bury his face in her chest.

When his mouth passed over her breast, she let out a breathy giggle, smoothing his hair down as she wrapped herself around him in turn.

It was the best fucking way he could ever be woken up, he decided - his Felicity, warm and perfect, fitting so wonderfully against him, her giggles echoing her quickening under his ear.

“Mmm.” Oliver cuddled into her. “You feel so good.”

He could hear the smile on her lips as she replied, “So do you.”

Oliver nose brushed the opening of her shirt, her skin so soft against him. He didn’t stop there, moving until he found her breast again. Her nipple was harder this time and when his lips hit it, she gave him a stilted gasp. His body tightened, his jeans becoming constricting as he did it again. Her nails dug into his scalp, silently urging him on.

He waited for the inevitable interruption, bracing himself to pull away from her because they weren’t alone… except they were alone. Everyone had left. They had the entire house to themselves.

Urgent need cut through him.

“What time is it?” he whispered, the words a raspy mess.

“It’s after midnight,” Felicity replied, kissing the top of his head.

The tiny gesture made him melt, but not enough to distract from what she said. “Midnight?” He held her a little tighter, hating that she’d been out there without him. He snuggled into the warmth of her shirt - no way in hell he was taking it back; this shirt was hers - wanting to get closer to her at just the thought of her being out there for two hours. “Why did it take so long? Did you get your car okay?”

“I did,” Felicity replied. “I think next time I’m going to leave breadcrumbs for myself because we couldn’t find it. That’s what took so long. Apparently I’d gotten turned around. I thought I was walking back towards the way I came, but I actually went down a totally different road and didn’t even know it. So my car was tucked in this weird tree hole…” She cuddled closer to him, laying her cheek against the crown of his head. When her glasses got in the way, she huffed, taking them off and setting them on the side table next to the couch before returning to her spot. “We even drove by it once before we saw it. And then there was getting it jumped, which was fine, but Ronnie thinks I should get a new battery, and I said I would. And then he lectured me about just going home and having you go to my apartment and then we talked about how far that was and what time it was and he said my car might not start without a jump again and long story short, I hope you have jumper cables because I might need them in the morning.”

Considering how late it was and how little sleep he’d gotten this weekend, it was a damn miracle he’d followed all of that. Although he’d always been able to. He never missed anything when it came to Felicity Smoak. And he definitely didn’t miss that just one tiny change last night and she never would have appeared at the party. She’d had a hellish night getting caught in the rain like that, but it’d ended with her on his doorstep and for that he would always be grateful.

And she’d specifically chosen to come back here, despite being told what could happen otherwise.

His heart brimmed over with happiness.

“I have some,” Oliver said. He was sure there were some in the shed, at least, and he’d damn well go find a store to buy some if he had to. He rooted around until he found her hardening nipple again. Felicity sighed, pressing her face against the crown of his head again as he wrapped his lips around it. There were too many damn layers, though, and his mouth watered at the thought of pulling it into his mouth again, of doing so much more than that, of laying her back, undressing her, tasting her…

His dick jumped to life, straining against hard denim as he bit down on her breast, making her whine his name. The hair on the back of his neck rose and he bit down harder, eliciting a small cry.

It was perfect and he wanted more.

Oliver gasped her name before abruptly sitting up, pulling her with him.

She let out a startled sound, her arms tightening around him as he sat back, hauling her into his lap, his hands coming up to her face, to guide her lips to his. She was already halfway there, though, her own needy whisper on her lips before her mouth covered his. Oliver immediately opened for her. They were suddenly back to that morning, all the need and desire and emotions surging to the surface. Except now it was even more vivid, because they’d had the day together. It’d been a another brand of intimacy - quick kisses, holding hands, laughing with friends, watching the sun go down - and now it was a fuel to the fire. They kissed with the same urgency, but with a new tenderness that hadn’t been there before. Today spoke to what they were capable of, what it would be like going forward, how things might be when they got to know each other all over again, when they shared more than just a day, more than their months of anger.

He couldn’t wait.

Felicity crowded him back against the couch cushions, grinding her hips down. His dick swelled even more than it already had and wrapped his arms around her, one hand gripping her shoulder, pulling her down even harder as the other drifted down her back, her spine, to her ass. God, he loved her ass. Where this morning he’d been so much more tentative, afraid to do something that might scare her away, now he gave in. He gripped her hard, pulling at her ass just as much as he pushed her even closer to him. She gave him delicate little cries, her entire body clenching in response as she kissed him harder.

It was heaven, absolute heaven. He slid his fingers down, between her cheeks, finding her sex. Even through the thin pants, he could tell she was wet - for him - and the heat, god, it scorched him. He curled around her as much as humanly possible as he pushed his hand further between her legs. He stiffened his fingers, rubbing them against her. Felicity let out a guttural moan, one he swallowed up, and shoved her hands into the collar of his shirt. Her fingers spasmed, her nails digging into his flesh, like the feeling of his skin against hers was too much, and it made every inch of him soar. Because he knew exactly how she felt.

For a long moment, they sat there, Felicity in his lap, riding both his bulge and his fingers through her pants, her hard nipples pushed against his chest, her hands migrating from underneath his shirt to his hair where she gripped the strands tightly as they drank from each other.

This morning they’d had to wait, but now they didn’t, and the reality of that sent heat rushing through his veins.

He growled, pulling her closer, delighting in the feel of her breasts pushing into him.

“Oh, damn it,” Felicity moaned, pulling back. Instinct had him moving after her, his lips finding hers again, and she gave in… but then she pulled back, just enough to speak. “I have an idea,” she whispered against his lips. The sensation was too much and Oliver captured her bottom lip between his, sucking on it, his teeth grazing it. She whimpered for him, her hips jerking against his, making his eyes roll back into his head… but she wasn’t done. “I’m clean,” she said. That caught his attention and he pulled back. “I don’t, like, sleep around or anything, but I do… sleep if the occasion calls for it - and by the occasion I mean I kinda just want to, which I damn well can because why should men only get that pleasure, and I’m babbling. Okay, um… three, two…. one. I’m…” She huffed out a breath, and Oliver furrowed his brow, trying to follow her logic through the haze of desire. “I get tested, so I’m clean. Are you? Clean, I mean, like… safe? It’s ironic I’m asking that right now because I didn’t care this morning, at all, but I’m about to suggest something that is the opposite of safe in so many ways and maybe an abundance of safety could counteract any non-safe thing… But it is safe, but it’s not, because stuff can still happen, but… god, Oliver, I need you and I am shockingly close to saying I just don’t care what happens and that’s a little scary and I need to know…”

“Felicity.”

She paused, inhaling quickly, like she hadn’t been breathing. Probably because she hadn’t.

Oliver sat back to look at her, cupping her face, smoothing his fingers down her jaw…

His chest constricted at the sight she made. Her hair was mussed, her lips red and swollen, beard burn decorating the tender skin around her mouth. Her eyes were glazed with need, her face flushed with pleasure. Fuck, she was stunning, and every inch of him yearned towards her, almost forgetting what she’d been saying. Her eyes danced over his face and he wondered if she saw his thoughts because her pupils blew wide, and she shifted, her hips rotating against his in the tiniest movement. Oliver’s lids fluttered shut of their own volition, but he forced them open again, unwilling to look away from her.

“Wh-what… um…” He cleared his throat, his hands dropping to her hips to stop her movements. “What are you asking me?”

“I was going to stop,” she said.

He frowned. “What?”

“When I was out,” she clarified breathlessly. “Earlier, I mean. For condoms. Because now we don’t have any and I’m about three seconds from asking how you feel about the pull-out method.” His eyes widened - oh, her babble suddenly made a lot more sense and holy shit, she’d been suggesting they go bareback. “But that’s dumb, right? That’s just… insane. I should go back out, because we need condoms. Now, right now.” His brain was spinning, for about a thousand different reasons, and it spun out of control when she arched her back, pressing her heat against him with even more alacrity as she pressed her lips to his again, moaning, “God, I need you, Oliver. I can’t believe how much I need you inside me-”

“I found some,” Oliver interrupted. “Upstairs. We have condoms.”

“We do?” Felicity repeated. “Then why are we just sitting here?”

That’s an excellent fucking question.

But when Felicity started to climb off of him, he knew the answer.

Oliver wound his arms around her, trapping her against his chest. He wanted to laugh at how much more control he felt in this instance, because the need to tell her how he felt overpowered his need for this woman. No, the feelings were equal, just on separate wavelengths, but no less powerful. He wanted to be inside her, he wanted to fucking bury himself as deep as he could and never fucking leave, but he also needed her to know that this was good, too, in its own way, that as long as he had her, in any way, shape or form, he was good.

“Because…” he whispered against her lips, “because the thought of not touching you when you’re right here drives me fucking insane.” Her breath hitched, her nails digging into him. “Because I never thought I’d get the chance to see you again, much less talk to you, much less…” Oliver’s arms turned to steel around her, pulling her down against him with so much force that she cried out. “Much less touch you, and kiss you… feel you like this…”

He ran his hands down her sides and up her back. She was so responsive, arching into his touch as much as shivering from it.

“God, Oliver,” Felicity breathed. “This is crazy.”

“What?”

“I want to drag you upstairs, but I also really love hearing you say stuff like that.” She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s… ridiculous. I don’t know what I’m feeling or what I should be feeling or what this is-”

“But it’s good?” he asked, pulling back to see her better. He brushed hair off her face. “It’s a good feeling?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her voice cracking. “I want both… I want you and I want you talking to me like that, because god, it’s…” Her lips brushed his. “I want all of it.”

And then she was kissing him again.

With a groan Oliver shoved his hands into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

They were too close to the precipice this time. The second her lips touched his, he lost any and all self-control he had and damn near devoured her. His feelings for her filled him to the brim, flooding his senses so he felt them in very brush of her skin against his, every gasp they shared, every breath, rivaled only by the actual sensation of having her in his arms. Her kisses were electric, addicting, and he wanted more, more, more…

Oliver sat up more fully, scooting to the edge of the couch. His hands dropped to her legs, making sure they were wound tight around his waist, before he grabbed her ass, the other wrapping around her back, and stood up.

Felicity clung to him.

Oliver had spent a lot of summers in this house. He knew exactly where everything was, down to the cracks in the hardwood floor. But in this moment, he didn’t know a damn thing. Every inch of his focus was on the woman cradled in his arms, on kissing her, chasing her eager moans and finding new ways to make her shiver against him. So he didn’t see the corner of the couch that rammed into his thigh or the lamp they brushed by, nearly sending it crashing to the ground. He didn’t see the wall they narrowly missed or the banister of the stairs that he almost walked into.

He definitely felt all of it, though.

Growling under his breath, Oliver gripped her tight, making sure she was plastered to his body before his other arm swung out, hitting the wall with a thud. His hand brushed the hanging frames there as he slowly started climbing the steps, moaning his displeasure whenever Felicity’s kisses slowed down.

He didn’t care how long it too him to get up these steps, he was going to do it without losing a single second with her.

They were a couple feet up the stairs when his foot hit the next step, almost making him trip. It was only because Oliver was going so damn slow that he didn’t fall and crash right onto the precious bundle in his arms.

Oliver froze with a grumbled, “Fuck,” his arm flying back to protect Felicity before he really did fall.  “Stupid fucking…”

He hiked her closer, ready to start all over again when he felt it.

She was giggling.

Felicity’s body shook with laughter, her curves rubbing against him with as the full-bodied giggles radiated through her chest and into his. It was adorable and gorgeous and contagious and before Oliver knew what he was doing he was laughing with her.

Oliver hummed, leaning against the banister of the stairs. “I guess the first night we make love shouldn’t involve me breaking my leg,” he whispered.

The words were out before he could stop them - ‘make love’ - and he knew he’d said too much. Shit. It was too fast. While today had only confirmed what he had always known about his feelings for Felicity Megan Smoak, he was positive that she wasn’t even close to being there. She’d thought he was joking last night when he finally fessed up about his feelings to her, assumed it would be a one time thing, and even after sleeping in the same bed together, she hadn’t believed him, not until she saw physical proof in the form of that gum wrapper he’d kept stashed in his wallet for so long.

It was too fast and he got his confirmation an instant later when Felicity froze. She didn’t stiffen, so much as she just… stopped.

Shit.

“Make love?” she repeated.

He wanted her to laugh, to joke, to think he was being hokey or silly, to at the very least tease him, but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t joking. He meant exactly that.

“It’s just… I’m not saying…”

The words stumbled out of Oliver’s mouth and he silently cursed, grimacing. He was a giant fumbling goddamn idiot and he couldn’t think with her so close. The last thing he wanted was to make her think he was pushing, in any capacity. Oliver slid his hands up to her waist and urged her off him. She let him go with ease and he instantly missed her warmth, feeling the ghostly imprint of her body wound around his. He wondered if the way her brow furrowed was his imagination because it was gone a second later as she stared at him. And it was at him, because she was two steps up from him and they were eye-to-eye.

Oliver swallowed, nerves nesting in his stomach. “Felicity, I don’t… it’s a term, I wasn’t…”

Hadn’t they just promised that they’d be honest with each other? Because it wasn’t just a term. It was more, so much more. But he didn’t want to freak her out. Thoughts raced through his head and he tried to capture at least one to help him find the right thing to say.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to…”

“Oliver.” Felicity’s fingers covered his lips. The words stalled on his tongue and he stopped breathing. He wondered how he could feel her fingers so readily when his lips were slowly numbing as he stared at her. He couldn’t read the look on her face and it was making his skin feel too tight when she finally smiled. “It’s okay.”

“But I want you to know-”

She put more pressure on his lips to still them. “I do. I do know. Now… stop thinking so much.”

Oliver blinked, trying to understand what she was saying, but all he could do was smile at the callback to the night before. As his lips moved under her fingers, her eyes dropped to his mouth, gentle wonder shifting to something darker. His heart climbed into his throat as she slid her hand up to cup his cheek, his whiskers scraping against her palm…

And then she was kissing him again

It was soft, so very soft, and he sighed, leaning into her. It didn’t escape his attention that she didn’t say anything about his choice of words, or his fumble, that she’d gone back to telling him to stop thinking so hard about everything. He would have laughed at the irony of who was the one thinking too hard between the two of them considering their history before this weekend, but then Felicity’s tongue swept over his lips and all that mattered was her.

As they kissed she held him with such care, such trust, such… He didn’t let himself think the word, he couldn’t. But something was different. He didn’t know what or how he knew, but there was something different in the way she kissed him, in the way she held him, touched him. It was so tender, making his entire being ache, almost like…

Like maybe her feelings were deeper than he let himself hope.

“It’s okay.”

Did she…?

Hope slammed into him. His thoughts and feelings clashed together, sending a hot flush up his neck. He had to be imagining it, right? Because that would be… god, his entire life would be made. He had to check, he had to see. He had to know.

Oliver pushed his hands up to hold her face, whispering, “Felicity,” as he pulled back.

She heard his barely audible plea and she pulled back, looking up at him.

He brushed his fingers over her cheeks, pressing some of her hair off her face. His fingertips skated down along her jaw before moving back up, his thumb grazing the corner of her mouth… and he stared into her eyes.

She didn’t hold back a single thing.

It was real.

Oliver grinned, saying her name just as she gave him the most beatific smile, her eyes lighting up, her face glowing.

It was real.

They were being honest, in their own way, letting each other in, and it was more than he could have dreamed.

His grin damn near split his face as he kissed her again. It was her turn to melt against him, her knees buckling slightly. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close, melding his body to hers. She made a gentle breathless sound that struck him right in his heart. It was a heady combination with her lush curves pressing into him, the heat of her skin scorching through their clothes.

She arched her back, her abdomen pressing against his aching arousal.

Oliver slipped his hands up under her shirt. They both hissed, just before he pushed his fingers under the band of her pants. Felicity shuddered, goosebumps raising under his touch, giving him that moan again, that delicious perfect moan. He pushed his hands in further with a ragged, “God, Felicity,” as he drowned in her.

“Yes,” she whispered, pulling his lips back to hers. “Yes.”

Oliver slipped one hand back around to her ass - her skin was so hot it burned, but she gasped like the opposite was true - as the other slid to the front of her panties. He pushed his hand between them, groaning at the added pressure of his fingers against his hardness, but it quickly got swept away as he slid his fingers over the front of her panties. They were already damp, nearly soaked through when he ventured lower, closer to her entrance.

“Ooh,” Felicity whined, nodding rapidly where she clung to him. She arched her hips into his touch, her head falling back. Oliver held her up as he pressed his fingers against her sex. “Oliver… Oliver.”

He kissed a wet line up her throat, nipping at her, working his way up her jaw, around her chin. She moaned, rocking against his fingers, getting just enough friction to make her whine for him. Her fingers skated up the sides of his neck, her nails scraping over his ears before she shoved her hands into his hair, urging him closer.

Oliver pushed his fingers underneath her panties, touching her swollen, needy sex.

They both moaned. She was so wet, soaking his fingers as brushed over her clit in a way that had her bucking against him. And then he went lower, brushing over her puffy nether lips. She was so hot and wet and tender and he could feel his control spiraling away from him. Oliver moaned again, the sound getting lost in her drugged whispers. He gripped her ass tight, digging into the ample flesh, earning a wild, “Oh god, yes… yes.”

He swirled his fingers at her entrance before slipping a finger inside her. Her inner walls immediately clamped down around him, giving him a guttural moan, her body tightening, her hands fisting in his hair hard enough to make him see stars. Oh god, he needed more, he needed to feel more of her. Oliver pushed her back against the wall, frames rattling under her back, but they didn’t notice, too lost in each other. He added a second finger, cupping her sex like he had this morning, rubbing against her as he rubbed himself against the back of his hand. Pleasure swamped him, and he rubbed harder against her.

It was so, so much… but it also wasn’t enough.

“Felicity…”

“Yes,” she replied, searching for his lips.

“I need you,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. His voice became desperate, even more than he already was. “I need to be inside you, Felicity.”

She cupped his face, pulling him back to look him in the eye. “Take me upstairs, Oliver.”

They were the most erotic words Oliver had ever heard.

Yanking his hand out of her pants, Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. He moved fast, but she kept up the entire way, giggling when they dodged furniture and a bag of bottles he’d forgotten to take downstairs. His room was open, waiting for them with a welcoming glow of light, and the second they crossed the threshold he pulled her into his arms and kicked the door shut.

Felicity grabbed his shirt, pulling his lips down to hers just as he wrapped her up in his arms, damn near yanking her off her feet.

The hesitancy they’d experienced last night when the door closed behind them was nowhere to be found as she simultaneously pulled him back to the bed as much as he pushed her back.

When her legs touched the mattress, Oliver grasped her waist, lifting her up onto it. Felicity grabbed at his shirt, scrambling up underneath it, pushing it up. He pulled away long enough to rip it off over his head before he started unbuttoning her shirt as she grabbed his hips, pulling him between her legs. She touched as much of him as she could, reaching behind him to grab his ass before coming around to his front, her nails scraping the denim deliciously. His dick twitched, damn near reaching for her. Felicity cupped the heavy bulge waiting for her, her hand wrapping around him so perfectly that he forgot how to breathe.

“Oh… shit,” Oliver hissed.

Sensation rocketed through him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his hands making tight fists in her shirt. He said something unintelligible, something that made her laugh, and something that made her squeeze him, rubbing her palm against him.

His hips jerked forward, seeking more friction, and she gave it to him.

It was fantastic, sensational, fucking amazing, and he quickly lost himself in her touch, every single nerve focused on her.

But then she moved, making him groan his displeasure, before he realized what she was doing.

“Off,” Felicity whispered, starting to unbutton his jeans.

Oliver nodded, gasping, “Off,” mostly because it was all he was capable of as he got back to her shirt with unsteady fingers.

Their moves were frantic, fueled by need and lust and so much more. His body hardened with each inch of flesh he revealed as he undid her shirt, and he felt her breaths growing shorter and more erratic as she undid his pants.

He finally reached where she’d knotted the shirt up at her midriff, and as his fingers started working it loose, he leaned over her, nudging her head back so he could capture her lips again. The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, both of them distracted, but that didn’t stop them from trying to do both, from touching each other as much as possible, from taking and giving everything they had.

Oliver finally got her knot undone and his moves started becoming even more frantic, so eager to touch, to feel. He moved to push the shirt off her shoulders, his fingers already itching to get under the thin straps of her bra, to push it off her shoulders, to tug the cups down so he could taste her nipples again… but then she finally got his pants undone and she yanked them open, her fingers digging into the band of his jeans and boxers, her fingers hot against his bare hips.

Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop…

He was five seconds away from pushing her back so he could rip her pants off and buy himself as deeply as he could inside her…

But he didn’t want that. No, he really did want, he wanted that a fucking lot, but not this time, not right now.

“Wait,” Oliver gasped, pulling back, his hands covering hers.

She froze, looking up at him. God, she was fucking stunning. Oliver leaned back in, needing to feel her swollen lips against his with an alarming fervor.

The kiss quickly spiraled out of control again and they were right back where they had been before - her hands pulling his pants down, his shoving her shirt off - before Oliver yanked himself away. Again.

It was too fast. He wanted to savor this, needed to revel in it, and as much as he wanted her - god, he needed her, so bad it hurt - he also wanted to make this last.

He also had zero doubts where her hands were headed once she got his pants down and he knew he wouldn't make it if he felt her fingers wrapped around his length. The imagery was almost too much and he held his breath, his cock twitching painfully against the painful bindings of his jeans. The zipper dug into him where Felicity had pulled it open and the pain did nothing to alleviate the ache.

When all he did was stand there, just staring at her, Felicity bit her lip, a flash of uncertainty touching her face. Fuck, he needed to stop thinking so damn much, but he was kind of glad he was, because he wanted to take his time and that was proving impossible when they gave into the intense craving they had for each other.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

God yes, it’s so okay, it’s more than okay.

“Felicity,” he whispered, cupping her face, bringing her lips to his. He kissed her softly, gently, sighing against her lips when she instantly responded. “Yes,” he answered. “It's…”

Perfect.

He didn't realize he'd said that out loud until she smiled, a tender shy tug of her lips right against his.

“A little early to be calling it perfect, isn't it?” she teased.

Oliver shook his head. “No,” he said, “because anything with you is perfect.” She fell silent, and the same hesitation from earlier hit him, but this time he forged on. He slipped his fingers over her cheeks, sliding them up over her temples and the soft hair there before he pushed wayward strands off her forehead. “You are always exactly where I want to be. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing or where we are, as long as I’m with you, it’s exactly what I want. Even when we were fighting and yelling at each other about that damn project, I didn't want to be anywhere else.”

Felicity’s skin warmed under his touch. “So that's why I could never get rid of you, huh?”

“Even when I was positive that you hated me,” Oliver said, “I always had a better day when I got to see you. It was even better when we talked, even if we were just fighting. I just… I would rather spend the entire day with you glaring daggers and cursing at me under your breath than be away from you.” His lips quirked. “I’d rather you yell at me instead of ignore me…” Felicity huffed out a chuckle, remembering the many times she'd done just that. “But even then, I’d take it just to be closer to you.”

“God,” she breathed, “you're really good at that.”

Oliver furrowed his brow, his eyes drinking her in. “What?”

“Saying the exact thing that will make my heart feel like it's going to…” Felicity waved her hands. “You know that feeling when it's really full, and you can’t breathe, but it’s in a really good way, like… like it’s about to explode and all you can do is feel?”

“I know exactly how that feels.”

She stared at him, the lamplight catching the way her face softened with emotion. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, before his lips covered hers, needing to show her as much as tell her.

Felicity moaned, a tiny sound from deep in her chest, but instead of kissing him back, taking control as she had been doing, she gave him the reins, letting herself fall into his hands with perfect trust. He cradled her closer, his hands slipping into her hair, keeping the kiss soft, wanting to cherish this amazing moment. There was nothing like when they were on the same wavelength, when they both knew with one hundred percent certainty that this was real and it was happening. It made everything more vivid, touching him in the very depths of his heart.

Oliver held her closer, worshipping her with his kisses, his touch, his soft sighs. She returned every single one, her hands sliding around his waist, hugging him tight.

He wanted to make love to her.

Kissing her in a series of lingering touches, he kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the tip of her nose, her brow. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her lips parting when his hands slipped from her hair and down her neck, over her shoulders, his fingers pushing underneath her shirt.

He pulled back to watch his hands as he slipped it off her slowly. He watched the play of her muscles as she pulled her arms free, leaving the shirt to pool around her hips.

Oliver dragged his fingers up her bare arms and when she shivered, her head falling back at the sensation, his eyes flew back to her face.

Would he ever not feel that stab in his chest at just how beautiful she was? He hoped not.

Her bra was next. Oliver slid the straps off her shoulders, her breasts falling in the thin cups. Her hard nipples caught on the material and his mouth watered, knowing they were dusky little peaks, remembering how they felt against his tongue. Her soft skin glowed in the lamplight, a stark contrast to the dark bra, and his body responded. He wanted to spend the next several hours on her breasts alone. But that would come later. Because they had a later. They had time.

Felicity licked her lips and reached behind her, unhooking the bra, her wet mouth catching the lamplight.

Oliver pulled it off, revealing her gorgeous breasts. Dropping her bra on the ground, he cupped them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, his lids growing heavy. She let out a shuddery sigh and when he looked up at her, his stomach dipped at the pools of passion in her eyes. They only deepened as he circled his thumbs around the hardening buds, her breath hitching as she pressed her chest closer to his touch. He palmed her breasts, and she moaned.

Her reaction tore at him, need whipping through him with so much intensity his lungs seized.

Oliver surged forward, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts as she fell back under his assault. He delighted in the shiver she gave him when his fingers brushed down her back. He wanted to push her back and climb on top, press the length of his body against hers, but he stopped himself.

He wanted to feel all of her, completely, totally.

With a moaned, “Felicity,” he kissed her chin instead, and then down, down…

She fell back on the bed, spreading her legs for him, her hands gripping his shoulders to pull him with her, but he had other plans. Felicity whimpered, whispering, “Oliver, please,” as she pushed her hands into his hair, gripping it tight, but he just nipped at her collarbone instead.

He worked his way down her body, pausing at her breasts. He sucked a nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, making her cry out his name. His cock jumped at the sound. Oliver moved to the other one, but he avoided her nipple this time, much to her chagrin. He smiled at the noises she made as he kissed the delicate skin of her breast, his tongue laving her. She tasted different from this morning - then she’d been clean from her shower, but now there was a fine layer of saltiness that he wanted more of. Oliver sucked and pulled, hard enough to leave a bruise.

A wave of possession hit him and he found himself sucking even harder, wanting to leave his mark on her, before he forced himself to back off. It felt archaic, thinking of it that way, thinking of her that way…

Felicity instantly disagreed, shaking her head, wrapping her legs around his waist as she gasped, “Oliver, please… please…” urging him to where she needed him. The desperate plea was all it took for him to wrap his lips around her nipple and suck on it. Her next cry was louder, but that wasn’t nearly enough. Oliver greedily pushed the hard bud against the roof of his mouth where he rubbed it back and forth, eliciting a ragged, “Aah,” from her as her fingers spasmed against his scalp, her feet anchoring on his back to thrust her hips up against his chest.

He could feel her arousal for him through her pants.

Oliver growled, the vibrations around her sensitive flesh making her moan as he flattened his body against her, giving her more friction where she needed it.

It also had him rubbing the painfully hard bulge in his pants right against the side of the bed.

His hips jerked and he released her nipple with a hissed, “Fuck,” as pleasure had bursts of stars exploding against his closed lids.

He couldn’t wait. He needed her. Now.

Oliver stood up, his fingers slipping into the band of her pants and panties. He pulled them down and Felicity lifted her hips to help. The leggings stuck to her legs like glue, and he peeled them, unable to hold back his huff of annoyance when they didn’t just evaporate. Felicity laughed, a deep throaty sound, and that did nothing to ratchet down his need as she pulled her legs back for him until she was completely naked.

She laid before him, completely open to his gaze, and he paused, taking her in.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

Felicity smiled, blushing, and he watched in fascination as it started on her chest, spreading up neck but also down, coloring her breasts. She bit her lip, her legs scissoring together. He wanted to smooth his hands over them, urge her to open them again, to never hide from him.

He hoped she could see it in his eyes, and he thought she did when she smiled at him, her body relaxing again before she sat up. Felicity hooked her fingers into his exposed boxers with a low, “C’mere.”

Oliver’s stomach fluttered. His hands found her shoulders as Felicity pulled his jeans down his hips, leaving them to slide down his legs before she tugged his boxers down next. He felt her breathing change as she moved, pulling the material down just enough for the very hard evidence of his arousal to pop free from its bindings. He was so damned sensitive the cool air was enough to make him hiss, but that was nothing compared to when Felicity’s hand wrapped around him.

“Oh god,” he gasped, his hips jerking into her touch.

His length slid against her palm. She moved her hand around him, twisting her wrist up to the tip where she brushed her thumb over the head.

Oliver choked out a breath, gripping her shoulders tight, falling forward until his forehead hit the crown of her head. His breath was hot against her hair as she wrapped both hands around him, smoothing them down, and he swore he got harder, swore he felt himself swell even more, which felt like a fucking feat all things considered. But it was Felicity holding him like this, her hands around him, her touch sending pleasure flooding his veins. The thought of it crashed with reality and his cock jumped in her hands. Felicity slid one hand down to cup his balls, her other twisting back to cup the very tip again… and then she leaned forward, like she wanted to take him into her mouth. Oh god. Every single inch of him yearned towards her, wanting to feel her lips wrap around him, her tongue taste the cum he knew was beading at the tip, to feel her swirl it around as she sucked him into her warm mouth…

He was suddenly vividly aware of the fact that he hadn’t gotten off since last night in the shower and while that had been spectacular, thinking about the soft curve of Felicity’s back, it was nothing compared to right now.

Oliver stepped back, forcing Felicity to let him go. He shook his head as he cupped her head, bringing her face back up to his as he whispered, “I won’t last if you do that,” just before he kissed her. He was painfully aware that she was sitting before him, completely naked, her legs spread, her wet heat right there, waiting for him, and he whimpered, kissing her harder before he ripped himself away. “Condom,” he said against her lips.

“Condom,” Felicity agreed, nodding, kissing him one more time before letting him go.

Oliver stepped out of his jeans and shoved his boxers down before stumbling over to the nightstand. The drawer was filled with condoms - thank god - and he grabbed one, instantly tearing it open. He rolled it on and turned around to find Felicity already lying diagonally across the bed, her legs parted just enough to see her glistening sex.

Dear fucking god, she was so gorgeous, so perfect, so amazing…

His jaw dropped, his needy ache for her making his cock hurt.

With half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, she raised her hand, beckoning him to her.

He crawled onto the bed and over her, letting out a shaky breath when she opened herself to him. Felicity welcomed him with open arms, the quiet smile on her lips making his heart skip a beat. Oliver settled over her, angling himself so his hardness wasn't pressed right against her heat just yet. That didn’t stop pleasure from suffusing his entire being when he pressed himself right into the crook her inner thigh made. It was only amplified when she wrapped herself around him, her hands skating down his back, her lips finding his cheek, his temple, his ear.

He sunk against her like she was made for him, like he was home.

Oliver shivered under the weight of that thought.

He wasn't the only one.

Felicity’s fingers trembled where she held his face.

Like a switch went off, every ounce of his focus shifted from their precarious position and right back to her.

Oliver propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her. He cradled her head between his palms, pushing his fingers through her hair and against her scalp as he whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Felicity nodded, a brief smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah, I'm okay.” Her eyes switched to watch her hands as she played with the edges of his hair, a tiny anxious line forming between her brows. “I'm just…”

It would only be later that Oliver would look back and realize this was the first time he didn't freak out about her half-sentences, or fill in the empty spaces with his own fears. That was gone, because now he knew that was with him just as much as he was with her.

“What?” Oliver urged. Another thing he'd recognize later was how easy it was to shut off his body when it came to making sure she was okay. “Hey.” Her eyes found his again. “Talk to me, Felicity.”

For a split second the anxious line smoothed away, like the sound of her name on his lips was enough to do that, but then it was back.

“I'm… I’m nervous, I guess,” Felicity admitted in a hushed voice. She huffed out a little laugh as she closed her eyes and Oliver wanted nothing more than to soothe her worries away with the brush of his hand. But he knew that was impossible so instead he rubbed his thumbs against her temples, waiting for her to continue. He could see the words forming on her face before her eyes fluttered open again. “I'm always a little nervous for the first time…”

He smiled softly. “Me too.”

“But this feels… different.” Felicity met his gaze, smiling before biting her lip. “It's special.” The words were barely audible, but even if he hadn't heard them - and he was so grateful he did, because they sent his heart soaring - he would have seen it on her face. She stared at him, searching his eyes. “This is special. This, and… us.”

The vulnerability and wonder shining at him through her eyes hit him hard.

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered. “It is.”

Felicity’s eyes danced over his face, and he hoped she saw everything he felt for her, everything he wanted to say. It wasn't confirmation that they were both in this, because they'd already done that. This was more.

She gave him a watery grin and a wispy, “Oliver,” before she pulled his lips down to hers.

Happiness.

It was in her voice, and it was what he tasted as she kissed him.

They kissed for the longest time and then moved as one, Felicity wrapping herself around him as Oliver stretched the length of his body over his. His hardness rubbed against her and he whimpered, his hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation, inadvertently rubbing himself right against her heat.

Felicity nodded, whispering, “Please,” between kisses. “Oliver…” Her voice dropped as she said, “Make love to me.”

Oliver’s heart somehow stopped and started at the same time. He cupped her head, pulling back to look at her, needing to make sure he heard her correctly. He did. She stared up at him, and the intensity in her gaze set him on fire. Emotion seared through him, flooding him, and it was his turn to nod. Never breaking eye contact, he kissed her softly and then he slipped a hand between them.

Her breath hitched when his fingers grazed her wetness. He slipped his finger over her entrance. Her inner walls spasmed, aching to be filled.

“Yes,” Felicity said, kissing him, sliding her hand down his arm to grip his forearm tightly. “Oliver.”

He shifted his hips back, both of them sighing at the sensation of his length brushing over the damp skin of her thigh, before he gripped his length.

Oliver slid himself through her wetness, up and over her clit, spreading her juices, before he found her entrance.

He slowly pressed himself inside her, just the head.

“Oh… god…”

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

Felicity’s mouth fell open in a breathless moan as he shuddered, his forehead falling against hers. Her warmth encased him, dominating every sense until all he could feel was her embrace. She rocked her hips up, and he slid in further, so easily. Her body was ready for him, and the second she gave him another eager thrust, urging him deeper. God, he wanted to take his time, to feel her, to make sure she was ready so this was perfect for her…

But her slight movements pushed him over the edge and he gave in.

Oliver thrust into her, in to the hilt, filling her completely.

Felicity stiffened with a gasp, not as ready as he thought. Her breaths came in uneven pants that he matched as he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to pause, letting her adjust to him… fighting the nearly undeniable desire to start hammering into her. She just felt so damn good around him, so warm, so wet, so smooth.

He cursed, fighting for equilibrium, grabbing her hip to hold onto something.

“Oliver,” she moaned, grabbing his face, anchoring him to her with a kiss. He groaned against her lips, kissing her back, rocking closer to her. The move pushed him even deeper, his pubic bone pressing to her clit. Felicity broke away with a breathy cry followed by a, “Yes…”

He rocked against her again, and she matched him perfectly, her hips thrusting up in return.

Concentrating on her, he focused on her responses, on the delightful noises she made as he moved inside her with shallow thrusts. Her walls clenched around him, but his pleasure faded into the background as he fixated on her, pressing wet kisses to her face, peppering them everywhere as he started deepening his thrusts.

She choked out his name, her hands finding his hair again, fisting it. Felicity buried her face in his neck, panting his name, her sounds morphing into cries as he pushed himself even deeper, angling his hips to brush over her clit.

“Ooh…!” Felicity cried, pressing her mouth to his shoulder, muffling the rest of her sounds as he did it again, and again.

Her hot breath was a stark contrast to the cool air in the room and goosebumps sent a shiver down his spine. His own pleasure spiked, a white wave of it crashing through him.

“Aah, Felicity!” Oliver gasped, falling against her.

He thrust harder, losing himself in her wet heat, in the feel of her mouth on his skin, her moans of his name, her hands on him.

It wasn't enough, he needed more. He wanted more, he wanted to surround himself in her, bury himself as deep as he could, lose himself in her…

Oliver shoved his arms underneath her, wrapping her up in his arms, cradling her against him so intimately his chest burned. She immediately reciprocated, pulling her legs up - he slid into her so fully that he whimpered, a cascade of words he couldn't comprehend falling from his lips. She locked her ankles against his back, winding her arms around his neck. He pulled a leg up, pinning her to the bed as he buried his face in her throat, planting messy kisses to the long, delicate column.

But it wasn't enough.

He wanted to connect with her, completely, totally.

Oliver kissed his way up her throat, her jaw, his lips brushing over her cheek, his stubble catching her lips before he kissed her. And then he looked at her. She was already watching him and the instant their eyes met, the intensity of their position ratcheted up to near-blinding levels.

A million and one words flew between them, and he wanted to say all of them, right now, but he didn’t have to.

Keeping one arm wrapped underneath her back, Oliver slid the other up until he was cupping the back of her neck, his fingers sinking into her hair.

Their gaze never once faltered as he pulled his hips back and thrust into her, again… and again.

Felicity’s mouth trembled, parting on a moan, her skin flushing to match the pink of her lips, and he knew she felt it too, their connection. The power of it made the room spin, but it wasn’t distracting or debilitating, because he was in her arms, and he knew he was safe there.

Oliver watched her, reading her reactions, changing the angle of his thrusts until he found the perfect spot.

When he finally did, he watched in fascination as her entire countenance shifted, a new pleasure flooding her features, her mouth falling open in a desperate cry. Her eyes slipped shut for a second, but she forced them open, finding his again, unwilling to lose the contact as much as he was.

It only amplified everything, making each thrust resonate more with a sharpness he felt in the soles of his feet. He grazed her clit with each thrust, right where she needed it, watching her start to crumble in his arms. It was beautiful, so fucking beautiful, something he could watch forever, and he did. He kept his eyes on her, responding to her whimpers of, “Right there, yes… yes, don’t stop… Oliver, Oliver… Oliver,” following her cues as best he could, wanting to see her come.

Sweat beaded along his spine as the familiar burn of his own pleasure started to build.

He gripped her tighter, fighting it, wanting her to come first.

But then she started thrusting back against him, her walls clutching him tight, and he shuddered.

“Oh… god,” Oliver whispered, his hips moving faster. Her cries became sharper, louder, her nails digging into his back. She nodded, holding her breath as they both moved. Pleasure and passion glazed her eyes, the flush in her cheeks suddenly shifting as she furrowed her brow in concentration. “Felicity,” Oliver moaned, his lids growing heavy as heat curled at the base of his spine. “Please… Felicity… Felicity…”

A breathless cry was his response.

Felicity cupped his face, pulling his lips to hers before sliding one hand down to his ass. He cursed when she dug her nails into him, and he thrust harder, sinking into her warmth with more urgency. She met every single thrust with uneven jerks of her hips, breaking away when the need for oxygen became too much.

His need and desire for her took over, his thrusts growing wilder with each passing second, her name falling from his lips in a litany.

She gasped his, her voice becoming strangled as he hit her clit over and over.

“Oh, oh… oh god, Oliver, don’t stop, don’t… oh…!”

He felt her stiffen underneath him, every inch of her clinging to him as he thrust into her, his voice cracking as he whispered for her to come, to please come, come for him…

And with a soundless scream, Felicity did. She flew apart at the seams with a series of ragged shouts, her silken walls pulsing around him with so much force he cried out.

It was gorgeous, absolute heaven to his ears hearing her falling to pieces in his arms… and it was the final straw.

Oliver gripped her tight, burying himself in her. He dug his face in her throat, grunting as his hips moved faster, pounding into her, seeking his own release. It was close, so close, and he heard her whispering his name in blissful whines, her face pressing to the side of his head, her lips finding his ear.

The pressure built, coiling tighter, tighter…

“Felicity, Felicity… Felicity!”

White sheeted over his eyes.

Oliver came hard, his orgasm ripping through him, heat razing his nerves. He didn’t hear the desperate cries he let out as his hips thrust wildly into her, riding the pleasure she gave him, spilling into the condom. Her inner walls spasmed around him, milking him for more, and he kept moving, over and over, losing himself in her until he was completely spent.

His gasps of her name filled the room, his mind filled with only her as he buried himself in her as deep as he possibly could before he finally fell still.

Pleasure radiated through him.

Satisfaction suffused every inch.

They didn’t move for a long time, save for Oliver shifting his weight to his elbows so he wasn’t crushing her. Even then she wrapped herself around him, unwilling to let him go. It filled him with so much joy he could barely breathe. He didn’t want to move. He never wanted to move, not ever again.

So much had changed in the space of twenty-four hours.

The rest of his life.

He wanted to talk about it, he wanted to tell her how much wonder it filled him with, how grateful he was she gave him another chance, that she trusted him with not only with that, but her, her heart and body and soul… And he would, but later. Because right now he just wanted to hold her, and fall asleep with her in his arms.

Felicity pressed soft lingering kisses to his face. His heart soared as he leaned into her lips, nuzzling her until his mouth found hers.

They didn’t speak, because they didn’t have to.

Oliver pulled out of her, whispering, “I’ll be right back,” before climbing off the bed.

His legs were shaky as he made his way to the bathroom, peeling the used condom off. He was spent, and he was only in there long enough to toss it away and wipe himself clean with a washcloth from the closet. He thought about bringing one back for Felicity, but the shuffle of feet behind him answered that.

The bathroom light was off, leaving her silhouetted in the lamplight from his room. She’d grabbed his shirt again and it was draped over her, only her fingers keeping it together between her breasts. Her hair was a wild halo around her head, from his hands and from making love. There was enough light for him to see she was biting her lip as she leaned against the doorjamb, her eyes taking their fill of him.

“Hi,” Oliver whispered, a little shyly.

Felicity smiled, ducking her head with a small grin. “Hi.” She waved at the bathroom. “I was just gonna clean up a little bit.”

“Right.”

Oliver tossed the cloth away and closed the few feet separating them, painfully aware of his nakedness, but not in a bad way. He was just aware of it, of how intimate it was to be with her like this, especially the closer he got. He thought about stepping aside, letting her in and then going back to bed. But then he thought about kissing her, about pushing his hands underneath her shirt before he was back to thinking he should let her be. He had no idea where the sudden rash of indecision was coming from, but it all evaporated when she reached for him.

Felicity let the ends of the shirt go, and he caught a glimpse of the edges of her naked breasts and her wet sex before she pushed up onto her toes to kiss him.

It was soft, sweet, and so gentle, a loving follow-up to what they’d just shared.

He wrapped his arms around her, sighing when her naked body pressed against his, their mouths opening just enough to taste each other.

With a hum, Felicity pulled back with a smile.

Oliver kissed her once more before he let her go. He made his way back to the bed as she closed the door, going about her business. He didn’t bother with his boxers as he pulled the comforter back and climbed in - on his side - and with a sigh, let himself sink in.

He doubled up his pillow, trying not to listen to every single move she made in the bathroom. But he also couldn’t help himself. Some part of him had once wondered, at the very beginning, if he ever slept with Felicity if that’d get her out of his system. He snorted. It was the exact fucking opposite. He was positively starved for her, from everything to her touch and kisses to wondering what her bathroom routine was. He wanted to discover everything he could about Felicity Smoak, absolutely everything.

The door opened, pulling Oliver from his thoughts.

He watched her walk back to the bed. She was still in his shirt, and it was still unbuttoned, letting him catch glimpses of her. She paused to ask, “Should I turn the light off?”

“No,” Oliver whispered. “Leave it on.”

He wanted to see her, for as long as he could. He gestured her back to the bed, flipping open the comforter for her.

A small smile lit her face at the gesture and she walked around to her side, slipping his shirt off, leaving it to land in a messy pile on the floor. He watched her every move as she climbed into bed with him, joining him under the comforter, mesmerized by everything - absolutely fucking everything, it was amazing - as he drank her in.

The second she was within reach he pulled her close, tucking the comforter in around her. She giggled when his movements tickled her, but all he did was smile because it meant she just scooted closer to him. She pressed her back to his chest, her backside settling against him just right, and Oliver curled around her, digging his face into her throat, making her giggle again as she wound her arms around his.

Silence settled over them.

As sleep started making Oliver’s limbs heavy, his eyes slipping shut, he felt like he was floating. In happiness. In awe, amazement, wonder…

He cuddled her closer, settling in with a sigh.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice thick with impending rest, his arms tightening around her.

“Thank you.”

That woke him up.

Oliver furrowed his brow, his mind racing through his sluggish thoughts to understand why in the world she would be thanking him.

“For what?” he whispered.

She shifted, turning just enough so she could look back at him. Felicity stared at him, and the earnestness in her eyes made his heart feel about twenty times bigger.

“For not being that guy,” she replied. Felicity reached back to drag her fingertips down the side of his face. “For being the guy I thought you were when we first met.”

Oliver could only stare at her. He tried to form the words, any words, but nothing came up, because that… that was huge.

He started speaking, just needing her to know how much that meant to him, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“You make me want to be a better person,” he said. He heard the words as they were coming out, and he huffed out a small chuckle at him, shaking his head. “That’s something everyone says, isn’t it, but… but I… I want to deserve you, Felicity.”

A thin sheen of tears filled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. He scooted closer, wanting to soak up any reason she might have to cry ever, but then she smiled. “You do, Oliver,” she replied. “You do.” He believed her. God, he believed her and he vowed that he would be. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was tired or because he’d finally made love to her, but there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation anymore. “You’re doing it again,” Felicity whispered.

“Doing what?”

“Saying the right words to make my heart do the thing.” She tapped her finger to his nose, bopping him, trying to lighten the mood as she added, “You gotta take care of this thing, mister.”

Oliver wasn’t sure if those exact words were her intention, but he didn’t care, taking them at face value either way.

“I will,” he replied. “Always.”

“There you go,” she said, her voice betraying how hard his words hit her, “doing it again, making me…”

Oliver swooped in before she could finish, his lips covering hers, sealing the unspoken promise. The way they laid kept them from deepening, but it was more than enough.

He finally pulled back, but not without a couple more lingering kisses.

Neither of them spoke, staring into each other’s eyes before they curled around each other again.

Oliver scooted down until his knees fit perfectly behind hers, his arms wrapped around her. She cradled them to her chest, lacing their fingers together, dropping a kiss to his wrist. He pressed his lips to her shoulder blade.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

Oliver smiled, kissing her shoulder again. “Goodnight.”

He fell asleep first, to the sensation of her thumb rubbing against the back of his knuckles, her lips brushing his wrist, her light breaths lulling him to sleep…

It didn’t last long.

Oliver woke a few hours later, and used his kisses and the strokes of his hand down the side of her body to rouse her. With a sleepy moan, Felicity responded, turning in his arms, her lips finding his. It wasn’t long before she was pushing him on his back and climbing on top, straddling him. She remembered the condom this time, she reached into the nightstand to find one, ripping it open and putting it on before she gripped him, guiding him to her entrance. Lingering exhaustion quickly dragged them down, making their movements rushed and uneven, but they quickly found their rhythm, their bodies taking over as she rode him. Felicity fell against his chest and they wrapped themselves around each other. Oliver lifted his knees, using the leverage to thrust up into her as she ground down on him, his face buried in her hair, hers against his neck. Her cries were louder than before, losing herself in her pleasure, and they echoed through the room as she fell to pieces, urging him to follow barely a second later.

They fell asleep again.

Several alarms on her phone going off in rapid succession roused them an hour after that.

After a lot of grumbling and cursing, Felicity got up, whispering, “I have to leave soon if I’m gonna make it back in time for class.”

Oliver gave her a bleary nod and a sloppy kiss, not letting go of her hand until he absolutely had to.

He managed to open his eyes, watching her walk away.

One look at her swaying ass and he was up, following her into the shower. It lasted way longer than it should have, but when Oliver tried to get her back on track after teasing her - which wasn’t easy, especially when he saw the very large hickey he’d left on her breast - but it was Felicity who said she didn’t care, dropping to her knees, taking him into her mouth. Oliver came with a sharp shout, his head hitting the tiled wall with a loud thud, his fingers tangling in her wet hair as she took every last drop. He returned the favor, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, pushing her up against the same wall, devouring her until she nearly pulled all his hair out as she came.

Her taste and the sounds she made as he pleasured her made him hard again, but he managed to keep his hands to himself as they both cleaned up. But then she walked back into his room and he caught her dropping the towel from around her body, using it to dry her hair. The motion made her entire body wiggle in delicious ways and before he could think twice he was grabbing her, hauling her back onto the bed where he made love to her one more time.

By the time they’d gotten dressed - she was wearing his shirt again, saying she needed to stop at her apartment and change anyway - and brushed their teeth - including her teasing him about where he’d put her toothbrush next to his the night before - the sun was rising, coloring the sky with a myriad of dusky pinks and burnt oranges.

She had a momentary panic attack when she forgot where her glasses were, but it quickly abated when they found them downstairs where she’d left them last night, sitting haphazardly on the table next to the couch.

Oliver left with her, even though his first class wasn’t until eleven that morning. He locked the house up, making a mental note to come back out this weekend and clean up some more before the monthly cleaning, and then he laced his fingers with hers, walking her out to where her Mini was parked next to his. He tugged her into his side as they walked, kissing her temple. She leaned into him, her damp hair tickling his nose, her hand finding his heart.

He waited to make sure her car started, and when it did, he laughed at the delighted squeak she let out, her fist flying into the air with a mini-victory dance.

She was the cutest fucking thing in the entire world.

And she was his, just as much as he was hers.

Oliver was so fucking happy he could dance himself.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her up out of the car for a moment. Felicity stepped out, instantly stepping into his arms. He smiled, leaning down to capture her lips for a second. Just because he wanted to. Because he could. Oliver leaned his forehead against hers, swaying, like he really was dancing. She gladly went along. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

“I have a two-hour lecture that doesn’t start until five,” she replied. “So I’ll be probably sitting in my car after that, staring straight ahead, trying to remember how to use my brain because my professor’s voice is very drone-like.”

Oliver chuckled, smoothing his hands up her sides and over her back before going down again, finding her hips. “Would you like to have dinner with me when you’re done?”

“Dinner? Like a date? A date-date?”

“Well…” Oliver’s brain faltered, because… Well, he thought it was sort of assumed that that was what it would be and for a split second, he forgot how to speak as he said, “Sure, yeah, I mean… the implication being with dinner that you… that we…” He huffed in exasperation and she grinned, her lips already forming the words, ‘Sentence fragments,’ with far too much amusement. He nodded with his own smile, saying it for her. “Sentence fragments, I know. It’s your damn fault, you know. You make me flustered.”

“I like that I make you flustered,” she whispered.

“You do a very good job of it,” he said. She giggled and he took a deep breath, the words ready this time. “Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”

“Yes,” Felicity replied immediately, nodding with a happy grin. “I would love to.” She cupped his face. “I wanna be yours, remember?”

“Yes,” Oliver breathed. The words were as close to what he felt as anything, and they settled inside him, filling him with warmth. He pressed his forehead to hers. “And I wanna be yours.”

They sealed it with a kiss. 

*

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!!

Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.

Next up is the Epilogue! I've been planning this ending since I decided to continue this 'verse almost two years ago, I'm excited to share it with you guys. 

Final update will be on Saturday!

[milenasanchezmk]

I Didn’t Get a Migraine That First Week. Or That Second Week. Or Ever Again.

It’s Friday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Friday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

Five years ago, a young and “healthy” 22 year old, I was working as a groom at a high end horse ranch in Western Colorado. I suddenly found myself with debilitating migraines. I’d never had migraines before so it was a bit shocking for me. But they were bad. Really, really bad. Like, 10-14 days long. I couldn’t function. My boss was as understanding as can be so I didn’t lose my job (thank goodness), but I remember my head felt like it was splitting in two, even dim light was painful, and I’d have to get a horse, go into the barn, shut the doors, turn the lights off, wear sunglasses anyway, and try to do my job. That’s neither sustainable nor a solution. It was horrendous. And ridiculous.

But the many doctors didn’t have any solutions. Migraine meds didn’t do a thing. The neurologist ordered a battery of blood tests and an MRI of my brain. Everything normal, nothing to fix here. Just keep trying the migraine meds. In the meantime, I was frantically trying to find a way to improve my health. I figured, What do healthy people do? They run marathons right? Let’s google how to do that. I didn’t really want to run (who was I kidding, running sucks!) so when one of the results was an MDA article about training for marathons with a link to an article against chronic cardio I checked that one out. I figured it might give me an excuse to not have to take up running. Ha! I had no idea it would lead to something way better.

From there I checked out the rest of the site. So, if lions are designed to eat meat and zebras to eat grass, what are humans meant to eat? What a common sense question, why hadn’t I ever thought to ask that? I signed up for the introductory emails but didn’t even wait for them before I binge read everything on the blog, cleared my pantry, and started in. There was a local rancher that sold grass fed steaks at the grocery store. I liked veggies. I really liked bacon so if this new diet said that was in, I was in. It’s funny to think back to all that now.

But I tell you what, as much as that low carb flu kicked my butt, I felt better. And I didn’t get a migraine that first week. Or that second week. Or ever again.

Then I discovered the missing piece of the puzzle. On the way to the neurologist’s office to hear my MRI results, I hadn’t had time to eat at home so I grabbed some convenient chicken fingers on the way. 80/20, I figured. The neurologist was out of town so the nurse practitioner saw me. When she gave me a look over, my thyroid was swollen. Like, huge. Scary swollen. And I was starting to get a headache. We started talking. And then she figured it out. (I tell you, nurse practitioners can be pretty amazing people.) It was gluten. I was having an autoimmune reaction to gluten—celiac. I had celiac. As it turns out, and I later found a Chris Kresser article explaining it, the gluten protein looks similar to something thyroids are made of, so when your body attacks the gluten your thyroid can get attacked too. How about that.

It all made sense now. As a kid I had what I now know to be symptoms of celiac in children. Underweight, constant stomachaches, etc. And before I started getting those migraines, it was summer time so I was with the horses at the high altitude portion of the ranch living in a tiny 120 square foot cabin. The grocery store was a long trip down the mountain. And with only a small mini fridge and no freezer, I ate a lot of shelf stable food. Processed food. Mostly pasta and granola. Really, my diet was about 80% wheat. And my body had finally had enough.

So Mark’s Daily Apple led me to find that I was celiac. But just as important it gave me a way of eating that made me feel healthy.

But I also helped in a far bigger way. A year and a half ago my husband and I found out we were going to be parents. And I kept eating primally. And I had about the healthiest pregnancy I could imagine. Alright, so the morning sickness was miserable and persistent. But otherwise it was perfect. I was one of those “belly only” pregnancies I hear people aim for. I was like a walking beach ball. But I felt great. And the delivery went great. I chalk it up to good nutrition and faith in my body’s ability to do what it was made to do. We had our baby at home with a midwife because that’s what I was comfortable with. After a short 3.5 hour labor (which was uncomfortable but honestly not painful. I now hate the expression “the pain of childbirth.” I think it sends the wrong expectation to women about how birth feels but I digress) we had a healthy 7 lb 12 oz baby girl. She’s so perfect and so healthy. I feel so lucky.

When I was pregnant I read a lot of Weston A Price articles. They brag a lot about how their nutrient dense diet produces healthy pregnancies and healthy babies with a wide jaw (which is an indication that the mother had good nutrition, especially plenty of Vitamins A and K). While I was pregnant I did take dessicated grass fed beef liver, occasionally some Dr Ron’s freeze dried organs and glands, a high quality prenatal with 5-MTHF folate (as recommended by Chris Kresser), fermented cod liver oil, and some high vitamin butter oil in addition to the Primal diet. So I did follow a couple WAPF recommendations. But I was not interested in buying raw milk. I don’t even like drinking milk so I did not want to pay the local raw milk producer the equivalent of $25 a gallon. I didn’t want to hunt down fresh organ meats and eat them. Yucky taste, no thank you. And I didn’t bother soaking/fermenting grains because, well, I’m Primal and I don’t even really do grains. Occasionally I do rice but it’s not that exciting so meh.

I know every parent says this, but my baby is the cutest little sucker in the world. I don’t think it’s just luck either. I think the nutrient dense diet I learned from MDA and the PB are why I’m so healthy and why my daughter is so healthy and so beautiful.

I’ve lost all the “baby weight” with zero effort. I actually weigh less now than I did before I was pregnant. I walk my daughter in the stroller a few times a week for 5 miles while she naps. She keeps me active and busy. I never have time to sit down. Lift heavy things? That baby’s a heavy thing and I carry her constantly. Sprints…Well I’ll get back to those and normal workouts eventually. But I’m not worried about it. I’ve got my walks and my yoga for now.

So I might catch a little flack for my five toe shoes and my obsession with bone broth but gosh dang I couldn’t be happier or healthier. Thank you again and again Mark, you changed my life.

Kate

[cristinajourdanqp]

I Didn’t Get a Migraine That First Week. Or That Second Week. Or Ever Again.

It’s Friday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Friday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

Five years ago, a young and “healthy” 22 year old, I was working as a groom at a high end horse ranch in Western Colorado. I suddenly found myself with debilitating migraines. I’d never had migraines before so it was a bit shocking for me. But they were bad. Really, really bad. Like, 10-14 days long. I couldn’t function. My boss was as understanding as can be so I didn’t lose my job (thank goodness), but I remember my head felt like it was splitting in two, even dim light was painful, and I’d have to get a horse, go into the barn, shut the doors, turn the lights off, wear sunglasses anyway, and try to do my job. That’s neither sustainable nor a solution. It was horrendous. And ridiculous.

But the many doctors didn’t have any solutions. Migraine meds didn’t do a thing. The neurologist ordered a battery of blood tests and an MRI of my brain. Everything normal, nothing to fix here. Just keep trying the migraine meds. In the meantime, I was frantically trying to find a way to improve my health. I figured, What do healthy people do? They run marathons right? Let’s google how to do that. I didn’t really want to run (who was I kidding, running sucks!) so when one of the results was an MDA article about training for marathons with a link to an article against chronic cardio I checked that one out. I figured it might give me an excuse to not have to take up running. Ha! I had no idea it would lead to something way better.

From there I checked out the rest of the site. So, if lions are designed to eat meat and zebras to eat grass, what are humans meant to eat? What a common sense question, why hadn’t I ever thought to ask that? I signed up for the introductory emails but didn’t even wait for them before I binge read everything on the blog, cleared my pantry, and started in. There was a local rancher that sold grass fed steaks at the grocery store. I liked veggies. I really liked bacon so if this new diet said that was in, I was in. It’s funny to think back to all that now.

But I tell you what, as much as that low carb flu kicked my butt, I felt better. And I didn’t get a migraine that first week. Or that second week. Or ever again.

Then I discovered the missing piece of the puzzle. On the way to the neurologist’s office to hear my MRI results, I hadn’t had time to eat at home so I grabbed some convenient chicken fingers on the way. 80/20, I figured. The neurologist was out of town so the nurse practitioner saw me. When she gave me a look over, my thyroid was swollen. Like, huge. Scary swollen. And I was starting to get a headache. We started talking. And then she figured it out. (I tell you, nurse practitioners can be pretty amazing people.) It was gluten. I was having an autoimmune reaction to gluten—celiac. I had celiac. As it turns out, and I later found a Chris Kresser article explaining it, the gluten protein looks similar to something thyroids are made of, so when your body attacks the gluten your thyroid can get attacked too. How about that.

It all made sense now. As a kid I had what I now know to be symptoms of celiac in children. Underweight, constant stomachaches, etc. And before I started getting those migraines, it was summer time so I was with the horses at the high altitude portion of the ranch living in a tiny 120 square foot cabin. The grocery store was a long trip down the mountain. And with only a small mini fridge and no freezer, I ate a lot of shelf stable food. Processed food. Mostly pasta and granola. Really, my diet was about 80% wheat. And my body had finally had enough.

So Mark’s Daily Apple led me to find that I was celiac. But just as important it gave me a way of eating that made me feel healthy.

But I also helped in a far bigger way. A year and a half ago my husband and I found out we were going to be parents. And I kept eating primally. And I had about the healthiest pregnancy I could imagine. Alright, so the morning sickness was miserable and persistent. But otherwise it was perfect. I was one of those “belly only” pregnancies I hear people aim for. I was like a walking beach ball. But I felt great. And the delivery went great. I chalk it up to good nutrition and faith in my body’s ability to do what it was made to do. We had our baby at home with a midwife because that’s what I was comfortable with. After a short 3.5 hour labor (which was uncomfortable but honestly not painful. I now hate the expression “the pain of childbirth.” I think it sends the wrong expectation to women about how birth feels but I digress) we had a healthy 7 lb 12 oz baby girl. She’s so perfect and so healthy. I feel so lucky.

When I was pregnant I read a lot of Weston A Price articles. They brag a lot about how their nutrient dense diet produces healthy pregnancies and healthy babies with a wide jaw (which is an indication that the mother had good nutrition, especially plenty of Vitamins A and K). While I was pregnant I did take dessicated grass fed beef liver, occasionally some Dr Ron’s freeze dried organs and glands, a high quality prenatal with 5-MTHF folate (as recommended by Chris Kresser), fermented cod liver oil, and some high vitamin butter oil in addition to the Primal diet. So I did follow a couple WAPF recommendations. But I was not interested in buying raw milk. I don’t even like drinking milk so I did not want to pay the local raw milk producer the equivalent of $25 a gallon. I didn’t want to hunt down fresh organ meats and eat them. Yucky taste, no thank you. And I didn’t bother soaking/fermenting grains because, well, I’m Primal and I don’t even really do grains. Occasionally I do rice but it’s not that exciting so meh.

I know every parent says this, but my baby is the cutest little sucker in the world. I don’t think it’s just luck either. I think the nutrient dense diet I learned from MDA and the PB are why I’m so healthy and why my daughter is so healthy and so beautiful.

I’ve lost all the “baby weight” with zero effort. I actually weigh less now than I did before I was pregnant. I walk my daughter in the stroller a few times a week for 5 miles while she naps. She keeps me active and busy. I never have time to sit down. Lift heavy things? That baby’s a heavy thing and I carry her constantly. Sprints…Well I’ll get back to those and normal workouts eventually. But I’m not worried about it. I’ve got my walks and my yoga for now.

So I might catch a little flack for my five toe shoes and my obsession with bone broth but gosh dang I couldn’t be happier or healthier. Thank you again and again Mark, you changed my life.

Kate

[fishermariawo]

I Didn’t Get a Migraine That First Week. Or That Second Week. Or Ever Again.

It’s Friday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Friday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

Five years ago, a young and “healthy” 22 year old, I was working as a groom at a high end horse ranch in Western Colorado. I suddenly found myself with debilitating migraines. I’d never had migraines before so it was a bit shocking for me. But they were bad. Really, really bad. Like, 10-14 days long. I couldn’t function. My boss was as understanding as can be so I didn’t lose my job (thank goodness), but I remember my head felt like it was splitting in two, even dim light was painful, and I’d have to get a horse, go into the barn, shut the doors, turn the lights off, wear sunglasses anyway, and try to do my job. That’s neither sustainable nor a solution. It was horrendous. And ridiculous.

But the many doctors didn’t have any solutions. Migraine meds didn’t do a thing. The neurologist ordered a battery of blood tests and an MRI of my brain. Everything normal, nothing to fix here. Just keep trying the migraine meds. In the meantime, I was frantically trying to find a way to improve my health. I figured, What do healthy people do? They run marathons right? Let’s google how to do that. I didn’t really want to run (who was I kidding, running sucks!) so when one of the results was an MDA article about training for marathons with a link to an article against chronic cardio I checked that one out. I figured it might give me an excuse to not have to take up running. Ha! I had no idea it would lead to something way better.

From there I checked out the rest of the site. So, if lions are designed to eat meat and zebras to eat grass, what are humans meant to eat? What a common sense question, why hadn’t I ever thought to ask that? I signed up for the introductory emails but didn’t even wait for them before I binge read everything on the blog, cleared my pantry, and started in. There was a local rancher that sold grass fed steaks at the grocery store. I liked veggies. I really liked bacon so if this new diet said that was in, I was in. It’s funny to think back to all that now.

But I tell you what, as much as that low carb flu kicked my butt, I felt better. And I didn’t get a migraine that first week. Or that second week. Or ever again.

Then I discovered the missing piece of the puzzle. On the way to the neurologist’s office to hear my MRI results, I hadn’t had time to eat at home so I grabbed some convenient chicken fingers on the way. 80/20, I figured. The neurologist was out of town so the nurse practitioner saw me. When she gave me a look over, my thyroid was swollen. Like, huge. Scary swollen. And I was starting to get a headache. We started talking. And then she figured it out. (I tell you, nurse practitioners can be pretty amazing people.) It was gluten. I was having an autoimmune reaction to gluten—celiac. I had celiac. As it turns out, and I later found a Chris Kresser article explaining it, the gluten protein looks similar to something thyroids are made of, so when your body attacks the gluten your thyroid can get attacked too. How about that.

It all made sense now. As a kid I had what I now know to be symptoms of celiac in children. Underweight, constant stomachaches, etc. And before I started getting those migraines, it was summer time so I was with the horses at the high altitude portion of the ranch living in a tiny 120 square foot cabin. The grocery store was a long trip down the mountain. And with only a small mini fridge and no freezer, I ate a lot of shelf stable food. Processed food. Mostly pasta and granola. Really, my diet was about 80% wheat. And my body had finally had enough.

So Mark’s Daily Apple led me to find that I was celiac. But just as important it gave me a way of eating that made me feel healthy.

But I also helped in a far bigger way. A year and a half ago my husband and I found out we were going to be parents. And I kept eating primally. And I had about the healthiest pregnancy I could imagine. Alright, so the morning sickness was miserable and persistent. But otherwise it was perfect. I was one of those “belly only” pregnancies I hear people aim for. I was like a walking beach ball. But I felt great. And the delivery went great. I chalk it up to good nutrition and faith in my body’s ability to do what it was made to do. We had our baby at home with a midwife because that’s what I was comfortable with. After a short 3.5 hour labor (which was uncomfortable but honestly not painful. I now hate the expression “the pain of childbirth.” I think it sends the wrong expectation to women about how birth feels but I digress) we had a healthy 7 lb 12 oz baby girl. She’s so perfect and so healthy. I feel so lucky.

When I was pregnant I read a lot of Weston A Price articles. They brag a lot about how their nutrient dense diet produces healthy pregnancies and healthy babies with a wide jaw (which is an indication that the mother had good nutrition, especially plenty of Vitamins A and K). While I was pregnant I did take dessicated grass fed beef liver, occasionally some Dr Ron’s freeze dried organs and glands, a high quality prenatal with 5-MTHF folate (as recommended by Chris Kresser), fermented cod liver oil, and some high vitamin butter oil in addition to the Primal diet. So I did follow a couple WAPF recommendations. But I was not interested in buying raw milk. I don’t even like drinking milk so I did not want to pay the local raw milk producer the equivalent of $25 a gallon. I didn’t want to hunt down fresh organ meats and eat them. Yucky taste, no thank you. And I didn’t bother soaking/fermenting grains because, well, I’m Primal and I don’t even really do grains. Occasionally I do rice but it’s not that exciting so meh.

I know every parent says this, but my baby is the cutest little sucker in the world. I don’t think it’s just luck either. I think the nutrient dense diet I learned from MDA and the PB are why I’m so healthy and why my daughter is so healthy and so beautiful.

I’ve lost all the “baby weight” with zero effort. I actually weigh less now than I did before I was pregnant. I walk my daughter in the stroller a few times a week for 5 miles while she naps. She keeps me active and busy. I never have time to sit down. Lift heavy things? That baby’s a heavy thing and I carry her constantly. Sprints…Well I’ll get back to those and normal workouts eventually. But I’m not worried about it. I’ve got my walks and my yoga for now.

So I might catch a little flack for my five toe shoes and my obsession with bone broth but gosh dang I couldn’t be happier or healthier. Thank you again and again Mark, you changed my life.

Kate

[watsonrodriquezie]

I Didn’t Get a Migraine That First Week. Or That Second Week. Or Ever Again.

It’s Friday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Friday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

Five years ago, a young and “healthy” 22 year old, I was working as a groom at a high end horse ranch in Western Colorado. I suddenly found myself with debilitating migraines. I’d never had migraines before so it was a bit shocking for me. But they were bad. Really, really bad. Like, 10-14 days long. I couldn’t function. My boss was as understanding as can be so I didn’t lose my job (thank goodness), but I remember my head felt like it was splitting in two, even dim light was painful, and I’d have to get a horse, go into the barn, shut the doors, turn the lights off, wear sunglasses anyway, and try to do my job. That’s neither sustainable nor a solution. It was horrendous. And ridiculous.

But the many doctors didn’t have any solutions. Migraine meds didn’t do a thing. The neurologist ordered a battery of blood tests and an MRI of my brain. Everything normal, nothing to fix here. Just keep trying the migraine meds. In the meantime, I was frantically trying to find a way to improve my health. I figured, What do healthy people do? They run marathons right? Let’s google how to do that. I didn’t really want to run (who was I kidding, running sucks!) so when one of the results was an MDA article about training for marathons with a link to an article against chronic cardio I checked that one out. I figured it might give me an excuse to not have to take up running. Ha! I had no idea it would lead to something way better.

From there I checked out the rest of the site. So, if lions are designed to eat meat and zebras to eat grass, what are humans meant to eat? What a common sense question, why hadn’t I ever thought to ask that? I signed up for the introductory emails but didn’t even wait for them before I binge read everything on the blog, cleared my pantry, and started in. There was a local rancher that sold grass fed steaks at the grocery store. I liked veggies. I really liked bacon so if this new diet said that was in, I was in. It’s funny to think back to all that now.

But I tell you what, as much as that low carb flu kicked my butt, I felt better. And I didn’t get a migraine that first week. Or that second week. Or ever again.

Then I discovered the missing piece of the puzzle. On the way to the neurologist’s office to hear my MRI results, I hadn’t had time to eat at home so I grabbed some convenient chicken fingers on the way. 80/20, I figured. The neurologist was out of town so the nurse practitioner saw me. When she gave me a look over, my thyroid was swollen. Like, huge. Scary swollen. And I was starting to get a headache. We started talking. And then she figured it out. (I tell you, nurse practitioners can be pretty amazing people.) It was gluten. I was having an autoimmune reaction to gluten—celiac. I had celiac. As it turns out, and I later found a Chris Kresser article explaining it, the gluten protein looks similar to something thyroids are made of, so when your body attacks the gluten your thyroid can get attacked too. How about that.

It all made sense now. As a kid I had what I now know to be symptoms of celiac in children. Underweight, constant stomachaches, etc. And before I started getting those migraines, it was summer time so I was with the horses at the high altitude portion of the ranch living in a tiny 120 square foot cabin. The grocery store was a long trip down the mountain. And with only a small mini fridge and no freezer, I ate a lot of shelf stable food. Processed food. Mostly pasta and granola. Really, my diet was about 80% wheat. And my body had finally had enough.

So Mark’s Daily Apple led me to find that I was celiac. But just as important it gave me a way of eating that made me feel healthy.

But I also helped in a far bigger way. A year and a half ago my husband and I found out we were going to be parents. And I kept eating primally. And I had about the healthiest pregnancy I could imagine. Alright, so the morning sickness was miserable and persistent. But otherwise it was perfect. I was one of those “belly only” pregnancies I hear people aim for. I was like a walking beach ball. But I felt great. And the delivery went great. I chalk it up to good nutrition and faith in my body’s ability to do what it was made to do. We had our baby at home with a midwife because that’s what I was comfortable with. After a short 3.5 hour labor (which was uncomfortable but honestly not painful. I now hate the expression “the pain of childbirth.” I think it sends the wrong expectation to women about how birth feels but I digress) we had a healthy 7 lb 12 oz baby girl. She’s so perfect and so healthy. I feel so lucky.

When I was pregnant I read a lot of Weston A Price articles. They brag a lot about how their nutrient dense diet produces healthy pregnancies and healthy babies with a wide jaw (which is an indication that the mother had good nutrition, especially plenty of Vitamins A and K). While I was pregnant I did take dessicated grass fed beef liver, occasionally some Dr Ron’s freeze dried organs and glands, a high quality prenatal with 5-MTHF folate (as recommended by Chris Kresser), fermented cod liver oil, and some high vitamin butter oil in addition to the Primal diet. So I did follow a couple WAPF recommendations. But I was not interested in buying raw milk. I don’t even like drinking milk so I did not want to pay the local raw milk producer the equivalent of $25 a gallon. I didn’t want to hunt down fresh organ meats and eat them. Yucky taste, no thank you. And I didn’t bother soaking/fermenting grains because, well, I’m Primal and I don’t even really do grains. Occasionally I do rice but it’s not that exciting so meh.

I know every parent says this, but my baby is the cutest little sucker in the world. I don’t think it’s just luck either. I think the nutrient dense diet I learned from MDA and the PB are why I’m so healthy and why my daughter is so healthy and so beautiful.

I’ve lost all the “baby weight” with zero effort. I actually weigh less now than I did before I was pregnant. I walk my daughter in the stroller a few times a week for 5 miles while she naps. She keeps me active and busy. I never have time to sit down. Lift heavy things? That baby’s a heavy thing and I carry her constantly. Sprints…Well I’ll get back to those and normal workouts eventually. But I’m not worried about it. I’ve got my walks and my yoga for now.

So I might catch a little flack for my five toe shoes and my obsession with bone broth but gosh dang I couldn’t be happier or healthier. Thank you again and again Mark, you changed my life.

Kate

[cynthiamwashington]

I Didn’t Get a Migraine That First Week. Or That Second Week. Or Ever Again.

It’s Friday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Friday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

Five years ago, a young and “healthy” 22 year old, I was working as a groom at a high end horse ranch in Western Colorado. I suddenly found myself with debilitating migraines. I’d never had migraines before so it was a bit shocking for me. But they were bad. Really, really bad. Like, 10-14 days long. I couldn’t function. My boss was as understanding as can be so I didn’t lose my job (thank goodness), but I remember my head felt like it was splitting in two, even dim light was painful, and I’d have to get a horse, go into the barn, shut the doors, turn the lights off, wear sunglasses anyway, and try to do my job. That’s neither sustainable nor a solution. It was horrendous. And ridiculous.

But the many doctors didn’t have any solutions. Migraine meds didn’t do a thing. The neurologist ordered a battery of blood tests and an MRI of my brain. Everything normal, nothing to fix here. Just keep trying the migraine meds. In the meantime, I was frantically trying to find a way to improve my health. I figured, What do healthy people do? They run marathons right? Let’s google how to do that. I didn’t really want to run (who was I kidding, running sucks!) so when one of the results was an MDA article about training for marathons with a link to an article against chronic cardio I checked that one out. I figured it might give me an excuse to not have to take up running. Ha! I had no idea it would lead to something way better.

From there I checked out the rest of the site. So, if lions are designed to eat meat and zebras to eat grass, what are humans meant to eat? What a common sense question, why hadn’t I ever thought to ask that? I signed up for the introductory emails but didn’t even wait for them before I binge read everything on the blog, cleared my pantry, and started in. There was a local rancher that sold grass fed steaks at the grocery store. I liked veggies. I really liked bacon so if this new diet said that was in, I was in. It’s funny to think back to all that now.

But I tell you what, as much as that low carb flu kicked my butt, I felt better. And I didn’t get a migraine that first week. Or that second week. Or ever again.

Then I discovered the missing piece of the puzzle. On the way to the neurologist’s office to hear my MRI results, I hadn’t had time to eat at home so I grabbed some convenient chicken fingers on the way. 80/20, I figured. The neurologist was out of town so the nurse practitioner saw me. When she gave me a look over, my thyroid was swollen. Like, huge. Scary swollen. And I was starting to get a headache. We started talking. And then she figured it out. (I tell you, nurse practitioners can be pretty amazing people.) It was gluten. I was having an autoimmune reaction to gluten—celiac. I had celiac. As it turns out, and I later found a Chris Kresser article explaining it, the gluten protein looks similar to something thyroids are made of, so when your body attacks the gluten your thyroid can get attacked too. How about that.

It all made sense now. As a kid I had what I now know to be symptoms of celiac in children. Underweight, constant stomachaches, etc. And before I started getting those migraines, it was summer time so I was with the horses at the high altitude portion of the ranch living in a tiny 120 square foot cabin. The grocery store was a long trip down the mountain. And with only a small mini fridge and no freezer, I ate a lot of shelf stable food. Processed food. Mostly pasta and granola. Really, my diet was about 80% wheat. And my body had finally had enough.

So Mark’s Daily Apple led me to find that I was celiac. But just as important it gave me a way of eating that made me feel healthy.

But I also helped in a far bigger way. A year and a half ago my husband and I found out we were going to be parents. And I kept eating primally. And I had about the healthiest pregnancy I could imagine. Alright, so the morning sickness was miserable and persistent. But otherwise it was perfect. I was one of those “belly only” pregnancies I hear people aim for. I was like a walking beach ball. But I felt great. And the delivery went great. I chalk it up to good nutrition and faith in my body’s ability to do what it was made to do. We had our baby at home with a midwife because that’s what I was comfortable with. After a short 3.5 hour labor (which was uncomfortable but honestly not painful. I now hate the expression “the pain of childbirth.” I think it sends the wrong expectation to women about how birth feels but I digress) we had a healthy 7 lb 12 oz baby girl. She’s so perfect and so healthy. I feel so lucky.

When I was pregnant I read a lot of Weston A Price articles. They brag a lot about how their nutrient dense diet produces healthy pregnancies and healthy babies with a wide jaw (which is an indication that the mother had good nutrition, especially plenty of Vitamins A and K). While I was pregnant I did take dessicated grass fed beef liver, occasionally some Dr Ron’s freeze dried organs and glands, a high quality prenatal with 5-MTHF folate (as recommended by Chris Kresser), fermented cod liver oil, and some high vitamin butter oil in addition to the Primal diet. So I did follow a couple WAPF recommendations. But I was not interested in buying raw milk. I don’t even like drinking milk so I did not want to pay the local raw milk producer the equivalent of $25 a gallon. I didn’t want to hunt down fresh organ meats and eat them. Yucky taste, no thank you. And I didn’t bother soaking/fermenting grains because, well, I’m Primal and I don’t even really do grains. Occasionally I do rice but it’s not that exciting so meh.

I know every parent says this, but my baby is the cutest little sucker in the world. I don’t think it’s just luck either. I think the nutrient dense diet I learned from MDA and the PB are why I’m so healthy and why my daughter is so healthy and so beautiful.

I’ve lost all the “baby weight” with zero effort. I actually weigh less now than I did before I was pregnant. I walk my daughter in the stroller a few times a week for 5 miles while she naps. She keeps me active and busy. I never have time to sit down. Lift heavy things? That baby’s a heavy thing and I carry her constantly. Sprints…Well I’ll get back to those and normal workouts eventually. But I’m not worried about it. I’ve got my walks and my yoga for now.

So I might catch a little flack for my five toe shoes and my obsession with bone broth but gosh dang I couldn’t be happier or healthier. Thank you again and again Mark, you changed my life.

Kate

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