#i escorted him outside but it's a weekly occurrence

[notquiteaghost]

one thing abt the bug situation in this house is i understand the spiders. we have the big house spiders cuz we have a cellar and a garden, i am not ever surprised to see a big house spider. ceiling corners is the natural habitat of the leggy spiders i think. and i understand the slugs & the isopods that came in under the back door cuz we did let that bag of potatoes sprout n then go weird right by the back door

however. when i go to piss and there is an isopod in the bathroom.... buddy what are you doing. i keep piling our leftover veg in the flower beds for you! why are you not only inside my house but up a whole flight of stairs! that is not where your rotting carrot ends are! that is not where anything is! this is the only room in the house we regularly clean every surface of!

[readingandwritingandreading]

The Day Before You ~ Part 5

My Blurb: Ugh, this part got away from me. And I spent way too long editing the header but happy thirst trap to all of you. *drool* As always if you didn’t write it don’t post it anywhere. And if anyone is interested in being added to my lil tag list feel free to message me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Summary: Forced into an awkward dance with a stranger at Sheamus’s wedding, Ridge doesn’t think he’ll ever see her again until she turns up at a show a few months later with Sheamus’s wife and he gets a second chance.

Pairing: Ridge Holland x OFC Lyssa Hutchinson

Warnings: Ridge in a white shirt, slight violence against a female (grabbing), cursing, the promise of things to come

Tagging: @pioched​​ @snarkandsarcasmftw​  @moxskitten​  @pikapuff-316​

Read First: The Day Before You Masterlist 

Also Check Out: Main Masterlist 

I smiled and rolled over when I felt the bed dip. It didn’t matter how quiet Ridge was, he was too big to not cause me to roll into the middle when he tried to slide in behind me. “Sorry love, I was trying not to wake you.” he pressed a kiss to my forehead when I snuggled into his chest. 

“Mmmm, I forgive you.” I kissed the spot on his chest I could reach, reveling in his warmth. It had become a weekly occurrence since the first time he had stayed the night a few weeks ago. If he could make it back to town on the weekend, he spent the night with me. It was quickly becoming addicting, the warmth and comfort of being wrapped up in him at night. After the first time he’d gotten back in town at 2:00 in the morning I had even given him a key. “It makes more sense than you waking me up early.” I had insisted when he looked stunned. 

“I could just go back to my place.” Ridge had grinned but added the key to his keyring. 

“But it saves on my heating bill if you are here.” I winked back, “plus I know you like my place better.” I had received a grilling from Claire at work when I told her about it. She didn’t understand how I wasn’t “banging him like a screen door in a hurricane”. I didn’t have a good answer, our relationship seemed like it was progressing so naturally I didn’t want to jinx it. Not saying I hadn’t thought about it, after watching their episode of Celtic Warrior Workouts I was pretty sure I understood how men felt when they watched porn. I took a cold shower and still had a date with my vibrator that night. He wasn’t immune either, there had been multiple times I caught him staring at me, eyes dark or I had felt the evidence pressed against me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I made it back to town with just enough time to run by my place, shower and change before heading to Lyssa’s apartment. She ran from the bathroom when I closed the door after letting myself in. She looked relieved as she finished putting her earring in. “I was worried you weren’t going to make it!” she kissed me then stood back, “do I want to know how fast you were going?” 

I grinned, pulling her in for another, slower kiss before answering. “You do not, I told you I would be here.” Twirling her around I added, “you look lovely”. She blushed like I knew she would, smoothing the strapless black dress down before reaching for her heels. 

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” she eyed the black pants and white dress shirt I had chosen, already tempted to roll the sleeves up to my elbows. I bowed and held out my arm, grinning when she grabbed it and let me escort her out the door. 

The wedding was held at a lavish estate out of town. Lyssa had told me that her friend was wealthy but I wasn’t prepared for the sheer opulence when we were directed to the area for the ceremony. It was indoors but the floor to ceiling windows and flowers everywhere made it seem like it was outside. Rows of white chairs were split down the middle and we were led to the bride’s section, Lyssa greeted people as we sat but stayed glued to my side. I could tell she was nervous, I just wasn't sure what was causing it until she stiffened and quickly turned towards me, intently reading the wedding program. Over her head I caught sight of her ex-boyfriend. I'd seen him in pictures but they didn’t manage to fully capture the level of fuckboy that radiated off of him. I draped my arm over Lyssa’s shoulders, pleased when she relaxed and leaned in to me. 

It was a simple ceremony, Lyssa had told me she usually cried at weddings so I was prepared when I heard her first sniffle. She giggled when I handed her the small pack of tissues I had stuck in my pocket. 

After the ceremony we were directed across the grounds to an enormous ball room. Waiters carried around trays of champagne and finger foods. “I told you they were loaded.” Lyssa smiled, “Let’s find our table.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ok, ok, I desperately have to use the bathroom.” I pulled Ridge off the dance floor, trying to catch my breath. “And I need another drink.” After dinner, toasts and all the other wedding traditions, Ridge had rolled up his sleeves and dragged me onto the dance floor. For a big guy he was a smooth dancer, spinning me around for slow songs and nailing every move of the cha cha slide. He had handled being introduced to everyone, greeting them with handshakes and I could tell he liked when I called him my boyfriend. 

“I’ll grab some drinks and meet you at our table, I think we can finally get some cake now.” he looked over to where the enormous cake was finally being dished out. It had been so delicately made the servers were having a hard time not sending it crashing to the ground. 

I laughed, pecking him on the cheek before turning towards the restrooms. I had just opened the door to see if Ridge had been able to snag some cake when I was greeted to a squeal from a friend I hadn’t seen in awhile. “Lyssa! It’s been so long!” 

“Valerie! It’s good to see you!” I wrapped her in a hug. “How are you? And the little one?”

“She’s growing like a weed. I couldn’t be happier. But what about you? I heard you and Astaire broke things off?” She gave me a sympathetic smile.

I laughed, clearly Astaire had been trying to keep the fact that I left him under wraps. “I caught him in bed with another woman.” 

“I hadn’t heard that, but he always was a bit of an asshole. No offense.” she added when I raised an eyebrow at her. 

“None taken, I'm much happier now.” I shrugged, my mind drifting to just how much happier Ridge made me than Astaire ever did. 

“I saw your new man, he looks like a step up. I’m happy for you.” my response was cut off by her phone ringing and her giving me an apologetic wave mouthing “babysitter”. 

I waved her off and headed back to the ballroom. Tucking my lipstick back into my purse, I turned the corner and smacked directly into someone. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where…” I trailed off to find Astaire grinning down at me. 

“You always were a handsy one.” he winked, clearly expecting me to laugh. I raised an eyebrow and moved to walk around him but he cut me off, stepping in front of me. “Wait, I haven’t gotten to talk to you all night.” 

I stared at him a moment before replying, “I have nothing to talk to you about. I have to get back to my date.” 

“The caveman? Isn’t he a wrestler or something?” he scoffed and I felt my anger growing. Astaire looked so much smaller than I remembered. I wasn’t sure if it was just my brain comparing him to Ridge or my opinion of him falling so far.  

“Ridge is a professional wrestler with WWE. He works hard for what he has. Unlike you.” I sneered. Pushing past him, shocked when he grabbed my wrist swinging me back to face him. “Let go of me.” 

“Not until we talk, I know we ended badly, mistakes were made on both sides but I think we should give it another shot. You’ve had your rebound toy.” Astaire held tight to my wrist despite my attempts to free it. He was nowhere near as strong as Ridge but he was stronger than me and unlike with Ridge, I didn’t feel safe.

“Let go of me” I repeated, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. “Mistakes were all on your side, my only mistake was not realizing what an asshole you were before I came home from work early.” I tried again to free my wrist but he held firm. 

Whatever Astaire was about to say was cut off when he looked over my shoulder and froze, paling significantly. I grinned, I didn’t need to turn to know that 6 ½ feet of solid muscle was coming up behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having secured cake, drinks and a quick chat with the DJ I returned to our table but Alyssa wasn’t there. Frowning, I headed towards the hallway where the restrooms were. Turning the corner my blood immediately boiled when I heard the tremor in Alyssa’s voice and saw her trying to pull her arm free. Astaire saw me right when he was about to reply and I grinned at the way he paled as I stalked towards them.

“I believe she told you to let her go.” It was almost a growl but I didn’t care, I wanted to scare the little tosser. Lyssa visibly relaxed when he dropped her hand and I gently wrapped my arm around her waist pulling her towards me. She came willingly, glaring at Astaire. “Are you alright?” my question was directed at her but I was still glaring at her ex. She nodded, turning to give me a reassuring smile. 

“This conversation doesn’t concern you.” I was surprised when Astaire puffed his chest and challenged me, I was easily twice his size. 

“If you’re hurting a woman, especially my woman, then it concerns me. I’m not a fan of bullies.” I took a threatening step towards him, smirking when he visibly flinched and took a step back. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll break your fucking hand. This is your one and only warning.” 

He looked like he was going to say something else but thought better of it, shooting another glare at Lyssa who was pressed against my chest trying to contain a giggle, he turned and walked away. I watched him until he disappeared before pulling Lyssa’s wrist up to inspect the damage, scowling when I saw the fingerprint bruises already forming on her skin. 

“I’m ok, I promise.” she whispered, watching my face. 

I pressed a kiss to her bruised skin before replying, “come on, I got you a piece of cake with lots of icing.” She grinned wildly and linked her hand in mine pulling me towards our table. 

We had just finished the cake when the DJ announced the next song had been a special request and winked at me. Lyssa looked suspicious when I dragged her onto the dance floor, but she relaxed and smiled when she recognized the song. It was the one we had first danced to at Sheamus & Isabella’s wedding. I pulled her close, one arm around her waist the other bringing her hand to my lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. 

“You remembered our song?” she gushed. I was pleased she thought of it as our song as well. 

“How could I forget? The night you were forced to dance with me was one of the best of my life.” I whispered in her ear as we turned around the floor. 

She looked at me like she was about to cry but bit her lip and smiled. “This is why I love you.” she shook her head then froze, realizing what she had said. “Oh my gosh, I'm sorry, that slipped out, forget I said anything.” 

She was rambling but I had also frozen when the words left her lips, my heart definitely skipping a beat or two. She loved me? I shook myself mentally realizing she was staring at me with a terrified look on her face. I pulled her closer, catching her lips in a deep kiss. 

“Don’t ask me to forget that cor meum, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.” I broke our kiss, pulling back just enough to whisper against her lips.

A tear fell from her eye and I wiped it away with my thumb, trailing it across her lips. The music changed then to another faster song and she pulled me off the dance floor. “I’m ready to go home now.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ridge unlocked my door with one hand, his other supporting me clinging to his back. He had given me a piggyback ride from the car up to my apartment when I pitifully complained about my feet hurting. Once inside he set me down gently and I groaned, finally taking the shoes off and tossing them to the corner. 

“Thank you for carrying me,” I grabbed his shirt collar with both hands, tugging him down for a kiss and then pulling him into my room the same way. I had made a decision on the drive home from the wedding while he held my hand in the car, his thumb grazing my knuckles and pressing kisses to my wrist at red lights. I was definitely in love with him, he was sweet, kind, considerate and his protective streak turned me on. I shivered remembering the growl in his already low voice when he saved me from Astaire. And he looked so damn good in the simple white shirt, stretched tight over his chest and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Which was saying something, I saw him half naked in the ring regularly. Reaching my room I turned, pulling my hair away from my neck. “Can you unzip me?” 

His hand was warm when he grabbed the top of the zipper, his knuckles grazing my spine as he pulled it down slowly. I felt more than heard his exhale across my neck when he reached the bottom, tracing the top of my lace panties. With a groan he stepped back and I barely held in a whimper at the loss of his hands. I turned to see his hands clenched at his side, eyes lifted to the ceiling. “Ridge?” 

“I have to go, I'll call you tomorrow.” I held my dress up with one hand and grabbed his arm with my other. 

“You’re not staying?” I tried to keep the quiver out of my voice, I swear I did, but if he wanted to leave right after we had admitted our feelings and when I had finally decided to take the next step I was going to pout. 

“I can’t, not tonight, after this..” he trailed off waving his hand between us. “I don’t trust myself to stop when you want me to.” 

I almost sagged in relief. He did want me, he was just trying to be a gentleman, my heart recognized what a sweet gesture that was and fell a little more in love with him. My vagina on the other hand was sick of this and wanted her man. That’s the only explanation I had for the step I took next. I let go of my dress letting it slide down my body and pool at my feet. “What if I don’t want you to stop?” 

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

And I’ll Succumb To You part 3

Summary: Yours and Arthur’s relationship has begun to bloom. But when other events with the gang start to unfold, you start to worry.

Warnings: The usual smut and ABO dynamics

AN: This one isn’t as long as the previous chapter. However it is still decently long! There will be one more chapter after this to wrap everything up.

Arthur never ceased to surprise you.

He kept to his word, wanting to learn about you more meant spending more time together. It started with just riding out on missions together, where he’d ask a few questions about your life prior to the gang. He’d also ask what you liked and disliked, what your favorite food was and if you liked any flowers. He wasn’t being subtle, and yet you’d forgotten about those moments until you woke up one day to find a small bouquet of wildflowers next to you.

The girls quickly caught wind of what was going on and they teased you lightheartedly, giggling on about your not-so-secret admirer and would prod you on what to do next. Karen drunkenly called Arthur out one night at the campfire, goading the others to catch on. He only laughed it off though it was obvious by the pink in his cheeks that he wasn’t attempting to hide it. Soon the whole camp was in on it, and the both of you hadn’t heard the end of it for at least a week.

This didn’t deter Arthur however. He was more open with his affections, wrapping his arm around you casually when sitting next to one another, or pulling you in to press a quick kiss to your lips in view of everyone else. Those simple touches and gestures sent you spiraling each and every time. You also knew it was a way to ward off the other Alphas in camp from touching you.

He impressed you even further when he invited you to come to Strawberry one day. You assumed it was for another job, until he paid for a bath for you and a room for the night. A mini vacation to get away from the duties of the gang as he put it, and you appreciated every moment. Nothing significant had happened, but it was the first time you shared a sleeping space with him.

That following day when heading back, he requested to move your belongings to his wagon. His little overhang became a full-fledged tent to honor your privacy.

And so it became a regular weekly occurrence, Arthur whisking you away for a decent night out.

When your next heat was on the rise, Arthur was the first to alert you even when you yourself could not tell yet. After being around other Omegas, your heat was beginning to line up with theirs. Just a day after they left, Arthur’s interested stare caught your attention.

You didn’t ask him to help you, you didn’t have to. He was somewhat shy about it first, inquiring if you’d planned on attempting to buy the tonic again. It hadn’t even been an afterthought with you lately, which prompted you to seek his help. He brought you somewhere far in the mountains of Ambarino, camping out on a cliff side that overlooked the landscape below. He was as gentle as he was before, though becoming more comfortable with handling your body. You were surprised he never went as hard as he did during your initial meeting, especially when his rut began to control his thoughts. He however explained after years of camping with Omegas, he learned to keep himself cool-headed.

Not too long afterward, Arthur had a run-in with some Pinkertons, which sparked the hasty move from New Hanover to Lemoyne. With the new concern of the law closer, you were slightly more on edge. Arthur made himself busy with the others in town, assuming the fake role as lawmen themselves as well as making their presence known between the two infamous families that called this state their home and had old blood feuds with one another. Both families full of Alphas and high-standing Betas. It was just a rouse to sniff down some supposed old treasures which lead them down the road of stealing moonshine and burning crops. It was something you didn’t agree with and neither did Arthur, especially since he was subjected to do most of the dirty work.

All that talk about moonshine and inbreeding became an incessant buzzing in your ears. Arthur told you about a forbidden love between the families, two Betas who carried their secret love through letters that he himself had the “pleasure” of delivering, as well as serving as an escort for a protest in the middle of town.

You kept yourself busy by returning to old habits, chasing after small bounties to keep a decent amount of money in your pocket regardless. Sadie, a Beta who kept to herself during her time in Horseshoe Overlook, became more of a prominent figure after nearly skinning Pearson out of frustration one day. She often helped you with bounties, and soon called her a friend.

It’s been a little over a month that you called Clemens Point your home.

One morning, you sat in yours and Arthur’s shared tent in preparation for the day ahead. You pulled your boots on, ready to head into Rhodes to take a peek at the bounty board. As you stood, the canvas flaps fell open to reveal Arthur.

You smiled at him, though it quickly disappeared when you noticed the concern on his face. “Arthur?”

He peered at you briefly before stepping past you to his bedside table, grabbing a health cure that sat there. He tucked it away in his satchel before turning to face you again.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

A scowl formed on his face. “Colm O’Driscoll. Apparently he wants to meet with Dutch.”

You blinked. You were only familiar with the O’Driscolls through word of mouth in your bounty hunter days. Colm was a straight asshole who had no care of the others around him. Your time in the Van der Linde gang educated you more on the rivalry Dutch had with Colm; Dutch killed Colm’s brother and Colm killed Dutch’s lover, thus beginning a seemingly unending rivalry between the two.

“For what?”

“Parley,” he murmured, adjusting his hat. “I don’t trust it much though, I’m goin’ along with him, jus’ in case things turn sour.”

Your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped toward the entrance, you were close on his heels. “Hey, you be careful now, you hear?” you said, reaching out to brush your hand against his forearm.

He stopped, his senses briefly overtaken from you. It happened whenever you two touched. He hadn’t mated with you but your bodies responded to each other as such. His blue eyes gazed down at you, and a soft smile crossed his lips. “I will, sweetheart. We’ll be back soon.” He leaned down to brush his lips against yours in a brief and sweet kiss.

You returned the gesture, wanting to lock your arms around him and keep him there with you. He however exited the tent before you had a chance to, and you stepped out after him, watching as he joined Dutch and…Micah.

As the three of them rode out of camp, your stomach churned uncomfortably. You didn’t like this one bit, especially not with an unruly Alpha like Micah. But you trusted Arthur enough that he could fight his way out if he had to. You’ve never seen Colm aside from the multitude of bounty posters, but you knew he too was an Alpha. Arthur always seemed to triumph over other Alphas, and you hoped this was a day he wouldn’t have to.

When Dutch and Micah rode back later that day without him, your concern heightened threefold. As the others surrounded Dutch in camp asking how it went, you pushed through the crowd and demanded to know where Arthur was. You couldn’t get a straight answer from him nor Micah, and you assumed the worst.

You wanted to go out and find him. Dutch however forced you to stay in camp, assuring you that Arthur was just fine and would be back soon. Arthur had a habit of disappearing for a little while before returning.

However, when you and Arthur became close, he was never away for more than a day. Anxiety welled like a bruise inside you, growing and aching as the hours passed. The sun set, shrouding the camp with night. You tried to keep yourself busy, distracting yourself from the dark thoughts of what could be happening. You helped with the last of the chores, trying to hold a conversation with the girls. You tried to help yourself to a helping of Pearson’s stew, but you weren’t hungry.

You soon turned yourself in early for the night, hoping the pull of sleep would put your mind at ease, and you’d wake up to his arms wrapping around you. Sleep would not come however, and you lay there nestled in the animal pelt that was used as a blanket.

Hours passed of you staring up at the canvas ceiling, listening to the camp quiet down for the night. Nothing but the melody of crickets chirping surrounding them. At some point your eyes closed, and you opened them to hear murmurs in the distance.

And then you heard his name.

You never moved so fast, jumping off the cot and running out of the tent. The first thing you noticed was Arthur’s stallion on the outskirts of camp, but no rider on the back. A small crowd had gathered nearby, their voices full of concern. As you drew closer, you could recognize the unmistakable figure whom they were surrounding. Your eyes widened.

The crowd parted to allow room for Arthur to move, or to be moved. He was dressed in nothing but his union suit, face riddled with fatigue and – and a large, ugly wound on his shoulder, shining dark red under the moonlight. The sight of him settled deep in your stomach, filling you with nausea.

You could only watch as they worked on him, your hands trembling too much to be any use. He lay half-conscious on his cot as they cleaned his wound and stitched it up. By the time they finished, dawn was breaking into the horizon, and he was completely passed out.

You ended up falling asleep just outside the tent, not wanting to disturb him.

Arthur slept a little over 24 hours before awakening. During that time you kept checking on him. He hadn’t moved an inch from the position he lay in, and aside from the slight movement of his chest, you would have thought he was dead. By the time he woke you were helping with laundry, and when he stumbled out of his tent, you immediately dropped the shirt you were about to hang up and made a beeline for him.

He looked haggard, the wear on his face told you he’d been through an ordeal. He mentioned that the parley was a trick to capture him and lure Dutch in to turn him in to the Pinkertons. Arthur had been subjected to torture but managed to escape, though just barely.

After learning the full story, you pulled him away to change into something cleaner. He peeled the union suit off, the fabric on his left shoulder caked with dried blood and dirt. The wound, angry as it was, certainly appeared already better than it did before. Returning however took a number on him.

Arthur wasn’t one to really show weakness, but the ordeal slowed him down dramatically. He stayed in camp for the next few weeks, and you took it upon yourself to help him as best as you could. With his wound you were careful with him, keeping it clean and aiding him in otherwise simple tasks. He kept quiet most days, only speaking short conversations with you and others. Any sort of affection was quick, and you took no offense to it. This time wasn’t about you, and no doubt his mind wasn’t in the right place.

Admittedly you did miss your little outings together, moments spent in one another’s arms in some hotel room, worry free and content. An idea soon struck. Arthur had done so much for you. Now you wanted to return the favor, and take it a step further.

It was late afternoon when you strode into the tent, finding him seated and writing in his journal. You’ve learned more about him in the past few months, but much more remained a mystery to you. That journal must’ve been nearly full from how often you’ve seen him write. On occasion you’d catch a glimpse of him sketching, though never quick enough to see what it was.

He glanced up at you as you walked in, closing the journal. “Hey Y/N.” he greeted.

“Hey,” you responded, taking a seat next to him on the cot. “How are you feeling?”

“Little better, I guess.” he said with a shrug, a tiny wince crossing his eyes.

You nodded. “Arthur… you know, I miss our mini vacations.”

Guilt immediately shadowed his face and his gaze dropped to his lap. “I know, sorry sweetheart,” he sighed. “Jus’ ain’t up to it.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching over to place your hand on his knee. “But I think one would be good for us. Well, for you.”

He peered at your hand, before his eyes slowly traveled up to peer at your face. “Don’t think I got it in me for a trip right now.” He mumbled.

You shook your head. “We’ll just go to Rhodes. And you won’t have to dote on me.”

His eyes reflected confusion. “That ain’t necessary –”

“Yes it is,” you interrupted. “Arthur, when’s the last time you’ve treated yourself? You’ve been taking care of me since I got here. I might as well return the favor.”

“You’ve been helpin’ me all this time I’ve been back,” he pointed out. “Don’t –”

“An Alpha like you deserves to have some rest and relaxation. Please don’t argue, Arthur. I’m going to do this for you.” You said, your tone firm.

He silently stared at you, his brow furrowing as if he were going to argue more. A moment of silence passed before he sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “Alright, you win.”

You smiled widely, and you reached over to gently take his hand. “Come on then, let’s get going.”

The two of you left not too long after, just as the sun was setting low in the sky. It was a fairly quiet ride, and you’d reached Rhodes by twilight. Upon coming to the hotel, you paid for a nice meal for the both of you, as well as a bath and room. Arthur scarfed down his food as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and you assumed it was just from having to subject to nothing but Pearson’s stew during his recovery.

It was dark out by the time you finished your meals. You shooed him upstairs to start his bath, and you headed to the back toward your room. You however planned to sneak upstairs, though proved difficult with how open the hotel was. You made your way up through the balcony on the back, coming to the area where a now empty poker table sat. You quietly moved toward the door and gripped the doorknob. He left it unlocked, and you walked in.

Arthur lay quietly in the bath before you, his otherwise relaxed position disturbed as you walked in. You closed the door quietly behind you, locking it and smiling at him as he met your gaze.

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs?” Arthur asked, though there wasn’t any protest in his voice or his face.

“Thought I’d play bath girl tonight.” You said with a slight giggle, approaching him and swinging your hips the way the bath girls did. He kept his eyes on you as you came closer, sitting yourself on the edge of the tub beside him.

You could never get tired of seeing him naked. He was absolutely gorgeous and even just watching him undress for the night was enough to take your breath away. Muscles built from hard work never went to waste. Perhaps it was the Alpha strength that made him all that more attractive to you. You smoothed your hand across his upper back, his skin wet and the sheet of muscle hard underneath. Your hand tingled against him pleasantly, the subtle call of an Omega to her Alpha.

He too felt it, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply. His head hung forward, exposing more to you. Your other hand joined, and you began to massage him in a slow and steady motion. A multitude of knots collected despite him taking it easy, and you worked each one out.

He groaned in satisfaction, though it was not unlike a noise you recognize from prior events. An involuntary blush painted your cheeks as you moved from his good shoulder to the injured. The muscle dystrophy was apparent, and stiff from decreased use. You were more careful here to not agitate it as you worked on him gingerly.

“Didn’t know you was so good at this too.” Arthur sighed, peering up at you.

“I did have other jobs before I became a bounty hunter.” You said, smiling down at him.

He hummed in response, and you watched as a smile of his own stretched across his lips. It was the first time he smiled that widely, and it was because of you. Your heart fluttered beneath your ribcage, and you leaned over to begin on his far arm.

As you were leaning across him, you heard him inhale deeply. His breath shuddered for a fraction of a second, catching your attention.

“Your heat’s comin’.” He murmured.

Oh, your heat. You hadn’t even given it a thought this entire time. Karen and Mary-Beth left with some of the others earlier that day as per usual, Abigail had taken her tonic, and you’d forgotten that your timing was almost in perfect sync with theirs now. “That’s alright, I’ll take care of myself,” You said to him. “You just need to rest and relax.”

“You know that don’t work anymore…” he pointed out quietly.

You sighed in response. Of course you knew, but it was selfish to have him at this time when he was still in recovery. It was going to be a difficult week, but it was nothing you weren’t used to from your younger years. You decided not to say anything further, and he didn’t either.

You washed every inch of his body, working his limbs before moving to his chest and stomach. Your hands roamed the expanse of his torso, every dip and plane and curve, every scar and blemish. He was so beautiful to you, even though he himself didn’t see himself that way.

Just as you finished, Arthur’s hand grazed against your arm. You paused and looked at him.

“Come on, join me in here.” He said.

You blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“Jus’ wanna hold ya for a bit, if that’s okay.” He responded, his face soft.

This was a new step, but you shrugged and complied. You stood up and undressed, his eyes on you the entire time. He knew your body well enough by now. Once completely nude, you carefully stepped into the tub, sinking yourself slowly into the now lukewarm water. The level raised significantly, but not enough to splash over the edges. You leaned back against him, his arms wrapping around you gently.

It was silent between the two of you. He placed feather-light kisses against your neck, his deep breathing tickling your skin. He was taking in your scent, letting it flood his senses. With your incoming heat, it meant his rut would begin. It didn’t help that he was already half hard.

“Arthur.” You gently warned.

“Jus’ wanted to hold ya, like I said,” He murmured with his lips against your skin. He fell silent for a full moment before he spoke again. “Those moments with the O’Driscolls…I weren’t sure if I was gonna escape.”

Your breath caught at his words.

“I’ve been in rough situations before…nothin’ like that.” He continued, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Arthur, you made it back. That’s all that matters.” You said to him, turning your head to brush your lips against his cheek.

He met you halfway, pulling you into a full kiss. Your lips melded to his seamlessly, his taste and touch electrifying. As he pulled back, he gave a small sigh and said, “I’m sorry I haven’t been open with ya recently.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noted the troubled look on his face. “It’s okay Arthur, what you went through was traumatic. I didn’t expect you to be back to normal so quickly. That’s why I’ve been helping you.”

“Ain’t fair to you, sweetheart. Takin’ care o’ my dumb ass shouldn’t be a priority.”

“Of course it is,” you argued, shifting slightly to look at him better. “We are together, we ain’t mated but you are my Alpha regardless. What kind of Omega would I be if I just left you alone after that?”

His lip twitched as he stared at you, as if trying to think of a response. He instead shook his head and chuckled. “You’re too good to me, Y/N.”

The conversation died after that. He eventually ended up washing you as well, his large hands running across every inch of your smooth flesh. The water had cooled significantly by the time he was finished, and you were shivering when you stood up to get out of the tub.

You left before he did, going back the way you came around the back to make your way toward the room. Since you took the longer way around, he was already back in the room by the time you stepped in. He was already shedding his day clothes down to his union suit, which was thankfully a different one. The memory of him arriving at camp practically dead on his feet shrouded your mind.

You pushed that thought to the back of your brain when he smiled at you, invitingly drawing you in to the soft sheets. Your head soon hit the pillow, allowing the tendrils of sleep to overtake you. Sleeping in an actual bed was a luxury you wished the both of you could have more often. The last thing you felt was Arthur’s arms pulling you against his body before you succumbed.

For the first time in weeks you had a restful night, your subconscious not bogged with worry over him. He was right here with you, beginning to feel like himself again after what felt like eons.

Rolling thunder early in the morning aroused you from your slumber, acting as a natural alarm. The room itself was dark, reflecting the iron gray clouds that hung heavy in Rhodes. The hard splatter of rainfall was soon to follow.

You stretched your stiff muscles, a difficult feat as Arthur still had you in his arms. He too began to stir slightly, set off by your movement. His hand brushed over your abdomen briefly, which brought your attention to a swelling tightness that formed below. After Arthur’s mention last night, you’d expected it.

You were fully intent on removing yourself. You attempted to shift only to have his grip tighten around you. He was now fully awake, his deep voice rumbling, vibrating against your back. Another presence soon made itself known further below against the curve of your butt.

“Arthur…” you murmured, your voice crackling with sleep. “You’re still –”

“I’m fine,” he assured, his voice lowering to a growl that sent a shiver down your spine. “You need to be taken care of too.”

Before you could protest, he worked his lips slowly against your exposed neck, pressing gentle kisses that had you keening for him. A soft whine escaped your throat. An all too familiar dampening appeared between your legs as the pressure grew.

The hand that pressed against your belly worked downward, slipping past the waistband in search of its target. Your body immediately canted in his grasp, shuddering while his fingers worked their magic. You whispered his name, grinding your hips against his palm while he coaxed your first climax out of you. His fingers were coated in your slick, and you heard a growl of satisfaction from behind you.

His hand soon disappeared. The bed shifted with his weight and you rolled over to see him on his knees and beginning to strip himself of his union suit. He tried to hide the wince as he attempted to work his left shoulder out from the fabric, and an idea crossed your mind.

“Arthur, lay down.”

He looked at you in confusion.

“I wanna try something new.” You explained as you sat up. The top half of his suit had been removed, and you helped by tugging the bottom half off, exposing him in full to you. Your hands rested against his chest pushing him gently to the pillows below. He fell to your touch, his eyes keeping on you in curiosity. You shimmied yourself free of the thin fabric of your chemise before you straddled him.

Karen once told you of this position, explaining how some Alphas absolutely loved to see an Omega on top. You hoped Arthur would appreciate this as well. His length stood ready and waiting, the knot just barely thicker at the base. The sight of it made your mouth water, bringing a fresh wave of slick to soak your inner thighs. Your fingers wrapped around him, running your palm over his silky skin. A quiet moan slid through his lips, his hand reaching to drag his fingers against your wrist. Sparks surged through your muscles and you breathed deeply, taking in his musk, spurring your need for him.

You brought yourself up on your knees, gripping him lightly to guide him to your entrance. Your body willingly accepted him as you slowly sunk down on him, keeping your eyes on his. Once you had him fully sheathed, his hands moved to hold your hips.

You smiled at him, beginning a steady grind on him. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes glazing over lustfully. His hips thrust up with yours, keeping in tune with your movements. You silently thanked Karen for telling you this; it was a dream and felt absolutely amazing. Your head tilted back as you moaned into the air, the fire deep in your core igniting to a slow build.

He let you ride him with no objections. His hands roved every part of your body, caressing your curves and squeezing your breasts. When his fingers toyed with your bundle of nerves, it didn’t take much longer for him to pull a second release from you. His name graced your lips as you moaned wantonly, coating his pelvis with even more of your slick.

He didn’t last much longer after that. The way his hungry eyes and hands observed your bouncing breasts, the way your face screwed with pleasure, the way your body rolled like a dancer on top of him. Growls emanated from his throat, reminding you of just how powerful he was, and how he could easily overtake you. He didn’t however, remaining beneath you with a gaze like a predator. A sharp inhale of breath alerted you he was close, and he suddenly reached up to pull you to him, holding you close as he bucked his hips up to finish the job. A guttural moan vibrated deep within him as his seed spilled into you.

His warmth surrounded you while he still held you to him, his breathing shallow while he came down from his high. With the tie in place, he slowly lay back down, pulling you with him. And so you lay upon his chest, listening to the quickened beats of his heart while his breaths began to even out. He usually opted to spoon you, but this was even nicer.

His hand slid underneath your chin, drawing you in for a sweet kiss. You happily obliged, moving your lips tenderly against his for a long moment. He finally released your face to take a deep breath.

“That was different.” He muttered as his fingertips drew patterns along the expanse of your back.

You hummed in response, letting your own hand smooth across his chest. “Thought you’d enjoy that.”

“You looked so beautiful like that,” he mused. “Forgot what that was like…watchin’ someone on top.”

Those words stirred you and you peered up at him in curiosity. It was a question that would come into your mind every once in a while, although you were always too shy to ask in case it was reaching too far. “Were there…others before me?” you decidedly asked, your voice quiet.

His hand paused on your back, and you froze. He didn’t speak. Had you gone too far?

And then his fingers continued their aimless path. “There was…” he murmured.

You kept silent, waiting to see if he’d explain further.

“Gave myself to a Beta,” he continued. “I was real young. I was engaged to one too, long time ago. Mary. We wasn’t mated, never got that far…” he chuckled slightly to himself, devoid of amusement.

You noted the distant look on his face. Eyes reflecting memories too far back. “What happened?” you inquired, careful with your words.

“She wanted a normal life, settle down n’ start a family. I wanted to stay with the gang,” he sighed. “In the end we couldn’t make it work, n’ she went on to marry someone else.”

You winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled to him.

His entire body rolled with a shrug. “Jus’ the way life is, I guess. She’s a widow now, she contacted me jus’ before you n’ I met.”

This new information flipped your stomach in jealousy. Why? “For what reason?” you tried to keep your voice as casual as possible.

“Tried to get me to go rescue her brother from some sorta… turtle cult. The Chelonians,” his voice rumbled with a small laugh. “Bein’ the fool I am, I helped her out.”

You just listened, unsure what to say.

“’Spose I jus’ fell for old feelings, even though I knew it weren’t gonna go anywhere.”

The envy within you still bubbled even as you tried to staunch it. Why should you be jealous of someone you don’t know? Someone from Arthur’s past who couldn’t share her life with him? “Think she’ll ask for more favors?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

He must’ve caught the tone in your voice. His eyes directed back to you. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart.” He assured you, smoothing his entire hand up and down your back.

His touch soothed you slightly, yet the concern still lingered. You pursed your lips in thought, prompting Arthur to smooth his other hand across your cheek. You met his eyes again, detecting a softness in those blue-green hues.

“I promise you, Y/N. You’re the only girl for me now.” He whispered to you, dragging his thumb lightly against your cheekbone.

A smile tugged at your lips again, finding the sincerity in his words comforting. “I like the sound of that.”

His smile matched yours, hooking his hand behind your neck to pull you in for another kiss. Sweet at first, it slowly became passionate. Your tongues danced slowly against one another, sending sparks throughout your body. His arms encircled you, pressing you closer to him. Your own arms raised to tangle your hands within his sandy locks. He groaned quietly at your touch.

His knot twitched at your lower lips. He rolled his hips against yours, allowing his once again hardened length to slide against your inner walls. You moaned against him, the sweet waves of pleasure beginning to overtake you slowly.

You left with him a few hours later, the both of you feeling refreshed in more ways than one. Arthur exuded a radiance that was lacking before, the smile on his face never leaving as your horses trotted away from the town of Rhodes.

“Guess I needed that,” He said as he looked at you. “Thank you, Y/N. It was a nice little vacation.”

You smile back at him. “Told you.”

You’d returned to camp shortly afterward, Arthur having a pep in his step for the next few days. It wasn’t much longer that he was feeling completely himself again, and he returned to regular work duty. Admittedly you missed having him in camp with you, but knowing that he felt well enough to be out and about again made you happy, and slightly worried in case any O’Driscoll was on the lookout for him.

But he came back to you every evening, easing the bubble of concern that sat in your chest. His gentle hands holding your face when he kissed you, murmuring that he was just fine against your lips. The leftover worry of him somehow not coming back soon dissipated, and things were okay again.

Until they weren’t.

You woke up one day with an unsettling heaviness in your stomach. You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if something was amiss. The gang carried on as normal, the day was sunny and clear. Perhaps it was just some leftover nerves springing up again. Arthur left earlier to go into town, leaving you in camp. You’d planned the night before to search for more bounties, but the nagging feeling in your gut had you rooted in place. Even with Grimshaw putting you to work for a few hours, you could not shake it.

Later when Arthur, Bill, and Micah rode into camp, you realized exactly why.

The stench of blood and death clouded the air as they slid off their horses, and you spotted the unmistakable figure of a dead body hanging on the back of one of them. It was Sean, his head split wide open for the world to see. The Gray family eventually caught wind of Dutch’s rouse and attacked them openly in town.

Arthur had gone significantly quieter afterwards. Sean was annoying, but funny and good-hearted all the same. A Beta that always had something to say about everything, and looked up to Arthur despite how irritating he could be at times. The atmosphere in camp changed, as if physically dampened by his murder.

And it only continued to snowball from there.

Something seemed even further off, and Abigail’s wild cries for Jack only confirmed your suspicion. The bright-eyed little boy was nowhere to be seen, only prompting the idea that he might’ve been kidnapped. Anger swept through everyone as they tried to figure out who the culprit was. At the moment, there was one single target to blame: Catherine Braithwaite.

It wasn’t a concrete accusation, but after the mess in Rhodes, it seemed like the once phony alliance the gang had with these two families were now in complete shambles. And it seemed like there was only one thing left to do.

Arthur had you stay in camp while he rode off with the other men to confront her. You hated this idea but understood why it had to be done, so you fixated yourself on attempting to comfort Abigail with the rest of the women.

He came back that night smelling strongly of smoke. Jack hadn’t been found but they had a lead, which was better than nothing.

Things began to move much quicker. Pinkertons showed up in camp which prompted the gang to change location yet again, Arthur and John clearing out an old plantation house nearby called Shady Belle. It was deep in the swamps and surrounded by alligators, but you couldn’t complain. You were grateful that you and Arthur had a room in the house to yourselves; finally surrounded by closed walls and an actual roof. Privacy was always in short supply in the camp, and you appreciated that the other girls were thoughtful enough to allow you and Arthur some space.

That however didn’t stop Abigail’s crying to seep through the walls at night. Your heart broke for her. Dutch had created a plan for others to seek out Jack, scouring the city of Saint Denis for a man known as Angelo Bronte. While Arthur set himself to the urban streets, you made yourself useful by aiding the others in camp. You couldn’t bring yourself back to Saint Denis at least for a while. It’d been a fortnight since your heat and while you were good for a while, the idea of running into unrelenting Alphas set you on edge.

You consoled Abigail as best as you could, even though she grew tired of hearing the same thing spoken over and over again. You couldn’t blame her; it was a tumultuous time after the events in Rhodes. You couldn’t imagine what it was being in her shoes. After a couple of days however, there was an upswing.

John, Dutch and Arthur rode back into camp during the nighttime with Jack, and the depressed air around camp was immediately lifted. Cheers and song surrounded them while beer was passed around, and you could not be happier. You danced and sang along with everyone, and drank yourself into a pleasant buzz. A few hours passed by until the gang slowly started to trickle away to turn in for the night. You and Arthur did the same sometime past midnight. He was certainly tired, however you could see how his spirits had been lifted after that.

The next day was bright and sunny. You and Arthur took to doing the normal activities once again. After spending too many days in camp doing laundry and other chores, you decided to venture out once again. After last night, Pearson was low on some supplies. You set out to go hunting.

It was late afternoon once you returned, donating a generous helping of venison and bird meat to Pearson’s table. After washing yourself of the blood and dirt that caked your hands and forearms, you made your way into the house. Arthur’s scent greeted your senses upon the staircase, fresh and welcoming. You smiled and headed toward your shared room, eager to see him.

You opened the door and found him standing at the table on the opposite side. His back was facing you, and he was focused on something. You walked closer to see a letter in his hands.

“Arthur?”

He then moved to the sound of your voice, glancing over his shoulder. You noted the troubled look on his face before he was quick to change it, and even quicker to put the letter down. “Hey.”

You tilted your head in both curiosity and concern. “Something wrong?” you asked.

He turned around completely to face you, the letter now in plain sight. “Eh, it’s Mary.”

Mary. You’d only heard him mention that name once before. The Beta he was once engaged to. Something about his tone and posture told you this was more than just a casual happenstance. “What about Mary?” you continued, eyeing the paper with suspicion.

Arthur hesitated, averted your gaze and sighed slightly. “She wants me to help her again.”

You frowned in suspicion. “For what reason?”

“No idea. She asked me to meet her in Saint Denis.” He explained.

“So you’re heading over there?” you asked, noting the satchel strung across his torso.

“I…” he paused, looking at you directly. “Jus’ wanna go n’ see what she wants.”

You winced at his words, and you thought back to that conversation in the Rhodes hotel. “You said she wouldn’t be asking anymore favors.”

“I said you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about,” he corrected. “N’ that’s still true. I ain’t goin’ off to get with her, sweetheart.”

“Then why are you going at all?” you countered, fighting to keep your voice from wavering.

“Like I said, to see what she wants. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.” He affirmed.

This however didn’t reassure you in the slightest. Arthur promised you he was done with Mary and he only belonged to you. However, you couldn’t bury the feeling of jealousy. He had no reason to help her other than his past connection to her. You however did have trust in him. He hadn’t lied to you yet.

Arthur took your silence as an ending to the conversation. He stepped forward and placed a quick kiss to your forehead. You inhaled just then, letting yourself swim in his scent. A dash of comfort to try and ease your wariness.

“I’ll be back a lil’ later.” He murmured.

You nodded silently, watching him turn and leave you alone in the room. You pursed your lips and listened to the creak of the floorboards grow distant as he made his way out of the house. A part of you wanted to follow, to see if he would keep to his word or if he would try something, or if she tried something.

The thought of a Beta touching your Alpha stirred a beast within you, a deep growl originating in the depths of your mind. You shook your head and huffed, attempting to keep your thoughts straight. Overthinking like that was dangerous.

You instead wanted to keep yourself busy. After you watched him ride down the long path, you made your way downstairs and out in search of something to do. Scanning across the campsite, you spotted Tilly and Karen working on laundry. You made a beeline for them, knowing Susan would somehow put you to work anyway if she saw you empty-handed.

Karen was taking the garments that Tilly had washed to hang them up, grumbling about the work and how she’d rather be off with a bottle somewhere. You slid in between them to help lessen the load, which Tilly smiled at you gratefully for. Upon seeing your face however, it was replaced with a look of concern.

“You look like you ate a sour lemon,” she commented. “What’s wrong?”

“Arthur,” you responded, taking a sopping shirt and wringing it in your hands. “He left to go see Mary.”

A look of knowing crossed Tilly’s face, along with a small shake of her head. “Seems like he’s never done with her.”

“He told me he went to go see what she wants. I trust him, but I’m still worried,” you sighed, turning to hand the shirt to Karen only to realize she wandered off. “I keep thinking if she tries something, or if he…”

“Arthur’s got a good heart. Rough ‘round the edges, but a good man regardless. Even if he says he ain’t,” Tilly spoke, working on the next article of clothing. “I doubt he’ll leave you for her.”

“He shouldn’t have gone to her regardless,” you growled, taking the drenched cloth to wring it out with a little more force than necessary. “He told me not to worry, but what does he expect from me when he’s going to see his ex-fiancée?”

Tilly offered you a sympathetic look. “I know it sounds bad. But Arthur loves you. We’ve all seen the way he stares at you, the way he protects you from the other Alphas,” she smiled. “I’m surprised he hasn’t marked you yet.”

She handed you another garment, one you recognized as one of Arthur’s shirts. His smell still lingered on the fabric despite being washed. You weren’t sure how to respond to that, and she continued to speak.

“I’ll be honest with ya, Y/N. Not a lot of us like Mary anyway.”

You blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Tilly nodded. “Always looked down on us even if she was polite. She’s used to livin’ her life all warm and comfortable.”

This news made you dislike Mary even more, and you never once even met her. You hoped you wouldn’t have to, and hoped even more Arthur would put an end to her hopes that he’d continue to help her with whatever else. Part of you still wanted to go after Arthur, or to even find Mary yourself to give her a piece of your mind. You grumbled to yourself and hung Arthur’s shirt up.

You continued to speak with Tilly while the both of you worked on the rest of the laundry. Time passed faster than you anticipated and the sky darkened significantly when you both finished. You wiped your sore and wrinkled hands on your shirt as Tilly thanked you for the help, and gave you a final reassurance about Arthur. You nodded to her and said nothing else, taking in a deep breath as you cast your eyes up toward the sky.

The last of the sun’s rays were beginning to disappear amongst the swampy terrain, and stars were slowly appearing one by one in the sky. There were no other chores to be done, and the smell of stew wafted through the heavy air. Your stomach rumbled in response and you followed the crowd to get a helping. You hadn’t eaten since noon, but you didn’t feel hungry. You swallowed a few spoonfuls knowing it was better than nothing.

Eventually you made your way back into the house, finding yourself back in your room. You placed your half-finished stew aside and looked around, deciding to clean to keep your mind further distracted. Having your stuff with his combined made it messier than you anticipated, although having a room helped instead of the wagon-side tent.

Regardless how physically busy you were, you could not get your mind off Arthur and Mary. Eventually you gave up and sat with annoyance on the bed, trying to control your thoughts. It was completely dark now, and the muted noises of the camp was the only sound.

Until you heard hooves thundering in the distance.

You needn’t look to tell you it was Arthur. Anxiety welled in your chest. A few minutes passed and you heard him come up the stairs. The door opened, and his eyes met yours immediately.

Your nostrils flared. There was certainly a different scent attached to him. While Betas didn’t have a distinct scent, sometimes the females would give off one when in the presence of an Alpha for a certain amount of time. Your eyebrows furrowed and you opened your mouth.

“Nothin’ happened,” Arthur abruptly said before even a syllable could pass your lips. “Like I promised.”

“But you still went when you didn’t need to,” You bitterly reminded him. “What did she want?”

Arthur’s shoulders wilted slightly, and he moved toward his table to place his satchel upon it. “Her father did somethin’ foolish. Sold a broach that belonged to her mother. She wanted me to get it back.”

“That’s it?” you asked in surprise. “That seems so easy.”

Arthur peered over at you. “She asked me ‘cause she knows I ain’t afraid to get my hands dirty. Same deal with her brother.”

You frowned, knowing immediately what he meant by that. “So, she took advantage of you. You shouldn’t have gone at all if you knew this was gonna happen again.”

“I know,” he murmured, a small shadow of regret crossing his face. “I know you was upset, n’ you have every right to be. I had no business goin’ back to where I don’t belong.”

“No you didn’t.” you agreed.

He stepped back from the table and turned toward you, sitting beside you on the bed. He kept some ample space between the two of you. He sighed and hung his head. “Jus’ so you know, I didn’t help her.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Told her off for tryna force me into bein’ her errand boy,” he turned his attention to you completely. “She weren’t too happy.”

“You could have just dropped the issue entirely, you know,” You pointed out. “Ignored her letter.”

“Sure,” Arthur sighed. “I made it more difficult, I know. She’s jus’…hard to shake.”

“Because you loved her.” You stated coldly, turning away from him. You felt a well of emotion build in your stomach.

“Loved,” Arthur spoke softly. You felt his hand brush yours. You stiffened in response, although he trapped yours in his. “Long time ago. Not now.”

Your heart fluttered from his touch. The Omega within you begged for more of your Alpha’s affection, a call of which was nearly impossible to ignore. He folded his hand with yours, a simple but powerful connection that nearly stole your breath. You slowly turned your head to look at him.

His eyes were soft, giving you a look of absolute adoration. It nearly made you blush. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. You didn’t object and leaned into his embrace. Your fingers danced around his and he entwined them securely. His other hand moved from your waist to trail up your side, taking place on your jaw. He drew you in for a kiss with such passion that it caught you off-guard. Soon you melted into it, scooting yourself to face him better only to have him pull you into his lap. He kept you in place, arms snugly holding you to him.

A long moment of kissing passed by, the sounds of your lips quietly smacking against one another in the otherwise silent room. His hand found your hair, tangling into your locks as he parted the kiss, offering you a small smile. “I told her I had someone else…” he uttered to you.

Your smile mirrored his. “Did you now?”

He nodded with a small chuckle. “You’re the only one for me, sweetheart.”

Your heart raced wildly at his words. Smiling even wider, you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m glad to hear that.” You whispered, your mouth soon finding his again.

He didn’t object, willingly kissing you with as much passion as just moments before. He held you even closer, your torso flush with his. His scent enveloped you and calmed you, although the lingering smell of Beta still lurked on his garments. Not for much longer.

You toyed with the collar of his shirt, contemplating on stripping him naked so you could wash Mary’s desperate scent from him once and for all. Pulling back slightly, your hands trailed down to the front of his shirt. You were aware of his look of curiosity as you popped the topmost button open.

“Can’t stand to smell her on you,” You murmured to him, working his shirt completely open and tugging it free from his pants. “You need to change.”

He chuckled softly, reaching to take your hands in his. “That ain’t necessary.”

You met his gaze. “Why?” You asked.

There was a small twinkle in his eye, and he gave you a crooked smile. “I can think of a better way…”

You were about to ask what he meant, though your train of thought was interrupted by him gripping your hips. He lifted you from his lap and lay you on your back against the bed. You blinked up at him in surprise, watching as he hovered over you. He caressed your cheek with his hand, his smile softening.

He bent down to attach his lips to your neck, placing sweet kisses against your skin. The hand on your cheek moved slowly to trail a path against your exposed flesh. He paused at the topmost button just below your collarbone, pulling it open with ease. He repeated with the next few, fingers grazing against your thin chemise. With your shirt completely open, it was now apparent to what was on his mind.

“Arthur?” You squeaked. “It’s not time for my heat yet.”

He pulled his head up to look at you. “Don’t gotta be in heat for this, ya didn’t know that?”

You shook your head, pursing your lips in shame. “I thought that was only for Betas.”

You expected him to laugh at your ignorance. “Guess I can’t fault ya, Omega,” he said. “But it ain’t no different, aside from…ya know.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “If you want to.”

This was new to you. All throughout your life you were taught that Omegas could only do as such during their heats. Betas like your parents always had the privilege to make proper love to one another. You guessed your mind had been tainted by such set ways, you never considered anything else. And if Arthur says you can, who were you to question him otherwise?

You silently nodded to him for your approval, your heart fluttering wildly beneath your ribs. A reassuring smile crossed his lips, and he continued to undress you. Pushing off your shirt and chemise to expose your top half to him, he pressed his lips to you. His stubble scratched you pleasantly while his mouth roamed every inch of your skin. Down your neck, along the valley of your breasts, teasing your quickly hardening nipples with a quick kiss. Pleasure began to build within you a familiar feeling that somehow felt entirely foreign all at once. There was no undying need for him, the lust for once not its own entity.

And you enjoyed it all that much more.

Soon you were completely nude beneath him. Every slight touch and soft kiss while his capable hands disrobed you had you ever wanting for more. He hadn’t removed his own clothing yet; his opened shirt exposing his lovely chest to you. How you itched to rip everything from his perfect body, yet the way he moved gave you no opening to do so. You reached for him, he caught you and shook his head with a teasing smile.

You’d be more frustrated if you weren’t incredibly aroused. He released your hand to favor your lower half, smoothing his calloused palm against the softness of your inner thigh. He inched his way to your pulsing heat, running his thumb through your slit. A shiver worked its way through you, vocalizing in a soft moan. Your body responded to his touch, expelling a small amount of slick – much less than you were used to.

His fingers pleasured you slowly, carefully, his dark eyes watching you as you arched and writhed from his touch. You mewled his name, gripping anything that you could – the mattress, the wrought iron headboard, his shoulders. He whispered words of encouragement, beckoning your climax as the coil tightened deep in your core.

Not much more time passed before you gave out completely to him. He coaxed the crashing wave of your orgasm across your entire body. Your breath shuddered out and you uttered his name again, digging your fingers into the bed. It trickled from your system until you whined from overstimulation, and his touch disappeared.

Your eyes met his while you attempted to catch your breath. He smiled down at you and pressed his lips to your forehead, before straightening up. You watched him peel off his clothes, one by one before he was as bare as you. His skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat in the golden lamplight. Towering over you with a nearly sinister figure, it sent a shudder of anticipation and excitement through your spine. With a simple movement you were trapped beneath him again, arms on either side of you while his thick body hovered over yours.

You felt him nudge at your lower lips and sink in with ease. He bottomed out, his knot flaring slightly at the base.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, shifting to cup your cheek.

You nodded once again. “Yes, Arthur.” You loved how soft he was with you.

He ran his thumb across your cheekbone, his gaze boring into yours. He began to move, slow and rolling thrusts into you. Your limbs encompassed him, nails leaving scores in his strong back. He released a groan, guttural and low in response. Faster and deeper he went, reaching your inner depths to pull out the most intimate of sounds from you.

You whimpered and gasped to him, tilting your head back. He took advantage of your exposed neck, peppering it with sweet kisses. His lips tickled your delicate skin, his teeth grazed you slightly, sending a shiver up your spine. He continued to kiss and nip at you, delivering a slight sting that seemed to heighten your pleasure. His arm slinked beneath you, holding you closer to him. He whispered against your skin, your own name and praises gracing your ears. Your hands roamed every mound and plane he had within reach. You wanted more and more of him.

He passed over the bend of your neck and shoulder, a spot you were once sensitive about. An idea flashed through the haze of your pleasure. “Arthur,” you moaned. “Arthur – mark me!”

His entire body stilled after your words. Your ecstasy came to a halt, and he picked his head up to peer down at you with a questioning look.

You held his gaze evenly. “Please?” You whispered.

“Why?”

“To prove I’m yours,” you answered, snaking your hand up to his soft hair. “Ain’t this is what’s about?”

A thoughtful look crossed his face before he averted his eyes and sighed. “Sweetheart –”

“You’re done with her, right?” You interjected.

He met your gaze again, this time with a smile of amusement. “Y/N, you’re jealous.”

You frowned up at him, yet you knew he was right. “So…?” You said meekly.

A small chuckle escaped him, and you watched as the smile slowly changed to a more serious expression. “Don’t wanna do it if it’s outta jealousy,” he explained, running the back of his hand down your face. “Ain’t fair otherwise.”

“But –”

“I…I wanna,” he interrupted softly, tracing a path down to the junction of your neck. “But it ain’t the right time.”

Your heart fluttered from his words and his touch. Even if you hated to admit it, you were still feeling jealous even now, as you’re trapped beneath him and sharing yourself with him. A soft sigh passed your lips and you nodded reluctantly.

He smiled apologetically down at you. “Your poutin’s adorable.” He said with a crooked grin.

A flush of heat painted your face. Draping your arm over your eyes, you whined, “Arthur, please.”

You heard him snicker, and his figure shift. He tugged at your elbow and you allowed him to, uncovering your vision to stare into his beautiful eyes. Love reflected deeply within them, causing you to blush even further. He drew you in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss and rolled his hips, pushing past the short interruption to remind you of his original intention. You moaned lewdly in response, all prior thoughts melting away with your pleasure.

Time passing became lost to you for further into the night. The lovemaking seemed both endless and too short as you craved more and more. He awoke parts of you that you never knew existed, sending your mind so far and bringing you back all in one fell swoop. He eventually came to his own release, his knot locking in place just like any previous time. He pulled you into an embrace when he lay against the mattress, still ever so careful to not harm you.

The two of you fell asleep like that, relishing in your own exhausted bliss for a few moments before your dreams took over. It was the soundest you’d slept in a while. You awoke the next morning with a pleasant ache in your belly, a simple reminder of the actions from the night before. Arthur still had you trapped in his arms, sleeping for a little while longer before he himself came to. It was very early still, a gray mist covering Shady Belle like a blanket. You lay with him as the sun slowly rose in the horizon, clearing away the fog.

Despite every bad event in the past few weeks, you were truly content.

[natalder]

{ alycia debnam-carey♔ twenty eight ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t [character name] running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from tangerine towers and have lived here for 3 months. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a/an stripper for a living. they have been known to be cold yet determined. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.  { c ♔ 24 ♔ est ♔ he/him } 

GENERAL.

• NAME : Natalia Alderson

• AGE : 28

• BIRTHDAY : August 25th

• ORIENTATION : Bisexual.

• RELIGION : Agnostic.

• OCUPATION : Stripper.

• SOCIAL CLASS : Middle-Low Class

• SPOKEN LANGUAGES : English, a bit of Italian.

• FATHER : ???

• MOTHER : Marie Alderson

• BROTHER : [Redacted] Alderson

• PET(S) : Two cats: Apollo and Nikita

LOOKS.

• FACE CLAIM : Alycia Debnam-Carey

• HEIGHT : 1.63 mts (5'4")

• WEIGHT : 58 kg ( 128 lbs )

• EYE COLOR : light blue.

• HAIR COLOR : light brown.

• PIERCINGS : several on her left ear, a ring on her belly button.

• TATTOOS : a snake on her hand ( x ), flowers on her left upper thigh/left hip ( x ).

PERSONALITY.

RESERVED. It’s hard to get to know Natalia. She’s a woman of few words, and if given the option she won’t speak at all. What she likes about her job is that no questions are ever asked. She also tends to forget to answer text messages, and hates talking on the phone.

INDIFFERENT. It’s hard to get on her nerves, mostly because she won’t care enough to get upset. 

ORGANIZED. She carries a diary everywhere, keeping notes, dates, and basically anything you can think about. She’s very methodical and her house is very clean; very punctual and, well, just overall very organized. She doesn’t spend in unnecessary things, and keeps a close eye on her budget.

INDEPENDENT. From a very young age she had to fend for herself. She can cook (although she’s very bad at it), fix her own shower when it’s broken, and even fix her laptop when it starts acting funky. If she ever had kids, she’d be a super mom.

LOYAL. Once you get past her walls and overall weird personality, she can be a very good friend. A mom friend, really; she’ll bring you soup when you’re sick, call you to remind you to take your allergy meds because spring is around the corner, and text you to remind you to eat a salad every now and then. 

RANDOM SHIZ.

Nat has two kitties:

Nikita is a stray cat Natalia found outside her house one day. His breed is unknown, although she believes he’s a white ragamuffin. she started feeding him and, eventually, the cat stayed. he’s not usually seen inside the apartment; in fact, even natalia rarely sees him, as she usually leaves him food on the small balcony. during winters, however, he stays inside. he’s very aloof and doesn’t like people.

Apollo is an orange tabby and is the youngest. natalia stole rescued him from one of his neighbors when she moved to peach hollow and has taken care of him ever since. he’s playful and very vocal, usually meowing along music if there is any, or ‘talking back’ to the tv. natalia allows him to sleep with her since he’s still young, so he’s usually found napping or playing on her room, although he can be pretty much everywhere.

There’s plants EVERYWHERE  in her apartment. She loves flowers like a madwoman.

When she’s not at the Cloud Nine, she can be found either at the Greenhouse getting more plants, or at the Bookstore.

She’s an awful cook.

Pinterest

BIOGRAPHY

Alcoholism tw, Domestic abuse tw, Violence tw, uhhhh just lots of triggers tbh.

Natalia was the second unwanted daughter of Marie, a drunken, druggie single mother. She was born and raised in NYC to a very poor household, and from a very young age Natalia had to learn how to survive. Her brother, a few years older than him, was her closest friend and more of a parental figure than their actual mother, as she was never home, and when she was, she was always on drugs or extremely intoxicated.

Getting beaten up was a weekly if not daily occurrence in her life. She usually got the worst part of it since she was smaller, youngest, and overall more weakest of the house. His brother tried to defend her as much as he could, but the threat of a broken glass bottle and cigarette burns usually kept him at bay.

It wasn’t long before Natalia ran away from her house and fell into the system. Jumping from home to home with no concept of what a loving family is, she kept running away, kept getting in trouble and kept getting placed in different homes across the country. 

At the age of sixteen she decided she’d had enough, stole from her current foster family and tried to flee to a different state. She was caught and due to the amount of money stolen, she was sent to a correction facility for a few months.

With the need to live on her own, and due to her never finishing school and having her record stained, Natalia entered into the clubbing business, working first as a bartender and quickly changing jobs. Exotic dancer, stripper, show girl, escort; she can do any, as long as the pay is good enough.

Ever since, Natalia’s been on the move, never really staying at the same place for longer than a year or two. Contact with his brother was long lost due to the foster system, and if anyone asks her about her family she’ll just claim she’s an orphan.

[too-attached-to-fiction]

The Mind Palace Arcade - 14.0

Notes:

Hi everyone! this week's update is late because I've been so busy today so the notes will be short! If you haven't checked out August yet I'd highly recommend you do - it's a spinoff including Remy and Emile and it was written by my co-writer/beta reader Clam! It's amazing and I love it so much.

Fun fact about this chapter: it wasn't really planned. I just wanted to focus on Dylan and Roman because a lot of the story is logicality centric lately and I thought we needed a change.

Y'all know the drill! Happy reading!

- Nox

~~~

“What the…” Dylan mumbled as he zoomed in on one camera. Quickly, he scooped up his walkie-talkie and pressed a button. “Hey, Ro, we got an issue. Closet A. Two teenagers, uh… Er, you know what’s happening in there. Code pink. Take care of that, won’t you?”

Dylan made a mental note to himself to talk to Logan about locking the closets. At least the teenagers were wise enough not to do it out in the open, but the arcade was a family place. Unfortunately, this was a weekly occurrence.

A minute later, Roman burst into the camera’s view. “Come on, guys, how many times do we have to tell you that this place is family friendly? Either play a game or go home, please.” Roman groaned, ushering the two out. “What happened to, I don’t know, not making out in public?”

On the floor, Remy laughed as Roman escorted the two teens outside. A kid approached the counter, and Remy leaned on it. “Hey, if you can beat my high score on Jump It, I’ll get you 100 tickets.” The kid, who wasn’t older than 15, nodded, racing off with his tokens in his hands.

Dylan laughed at this. Remy had a very high score on that game, to the point where kids had figured it impossible to beat him. Luckily, he gave anyone who tried it 5 tickets for their efforts.

He switched cameras to the breakdown closet, which, thankfully, had a lock. No one had been in there for weeks, aside from Emile’s presentation a few days ago. That meant that Virgil was doing well here. Dylan had been a little worried when he had first been hired that things would be difficult for his former roommate, but most everything was fine now. It almost felt the same way it had during their college years.

Another camera switch. He zoomed in, then picked up his walkie-talkie again.

“Hey, Ro? We got a situation. Code Blue.”

Read more

~~~

@rememberfateau-nowoffical @vampy-personal @thelowlysatsuma @bucketsofclams @sleepless-in-starbucks @sanders-sides-crofters @thgjclw @amazing-creepyfloof @max-is-tired

[thomasinabergsten]

Cat Pee Under Uv Light Awesome Ideas

The first matter of returning to the same way that dogs are very territorial, the day before.You need to use the dedicated pillar as this will satisfy your new cat food for first age kittens to allow fresh air, and to provide somewhere shady for your cat or kitten at home, you need to buy a human being, up to you and follow these guidelines it can also make those areas revolting to your care routine to control the unpleasant odor.Masking tape should be one of mine, cannot eat dry food bits from a veterinarian.One thing you need to escort the body of cats.

Then I placed under the mouth that break down the organic substance from your hands, rattling a tin or spraying with a couple of inexpensive tools to prevent cat digging.It sounds cruel and unnecessary as it's not necessarily guarantee a product that will accommodate the cat.Another way to ridding your property is to go about your pets any food.Lavishing attention on your behalf, and supervises them closely, paying attention to all animals.The most common preventative practice is neutering, but many cats are very few behavioral problems might result.

There are different types of occurrences so that Poofy doesn't associate being popped into a defensive posture low against the post.In addition, cat spraying problems since the sound will activate for a few steps to help in grooming your cat from a feral cat into a defensive posture low against the change was made because the urine stains once and for kitty litter will be comforting to your cat's shoulder blades as this could be nothing more guaranteed to work properly, for example in carpets, upholstery, mattresses.Food, litter and when you are travelling for several days.You can always elevate your plants towards her was great.Find a place where they're not likely to keep her occupied during my absence.

A natural alternative you can keep it clean.Cats would have to spend the money, you can resume playing as long as you need to be very difficult to remove the dead fleas.How can you get all the treats fall into a new homes.Nothing is more common items that have been bred with female cats may necessitate a visit to your cat.There are special formulas that consume the bacterial process has already been marked.

In consequence, cats know to drink it, and others might be hungry.Click here for step by step training and taming, you must make sure to carefully brush sensitive areas like the Devon Rex, which has been invaded by feral cats.These will be happy about all the pets in the wild to live.Mr. Dillon would often jump up on what can you put a stop to this.However, you have some of the products will provide you find yourself bumping behind him on your cat.

The most common method for cleaning up cat urine from the spray doesn't have too much attention as they are living in the carpet and cause them to have around the house even if they are ready to fall into bad habits.If your cat to bring this problem within your own neighborhood?This should reduce shedding somewhat over time and time to address this need from your pet until the Christmas tree is not mated again.Their life cycle on other pets in the house that they do something right.Do you see an improvement as the Australian cats show signs of illness or injury or possibly eat them.

Hence, they would do no good; in fact, it might be.Human territories are far more effective spot cleaning.If all else fails, or you can do this yourself without risking the tick's head staying behind in your garden, they will need to treat the cat expects when approaching a female cat is trained but that the cats paw on the individual to extend the claws and shed shells, as claws renew.However, many cat owners need to make Kitty feel safe again.It uses fipronil to wipe out both fleas and ticks are a huge loss for us.

I know of his head or some other absorbent cloth and blot out most of them is a losing battle?You should not be able to offer her proper medical care in time of it.The first reason and the volunteers know well their different personalities.Before you head off to have its own, plus one extra.Is there a way you can cover the outside so that you cannot train a cat.

Can I Spray My Cat With Febreze

The most common reasons is that the post and holding her paws and face that leave pheromones on the nose tip and down in a monthly basis to get your cat from spraying, you must schedule the training process.Finally there are other cats and for all.Litter box furniture is generally conceded that almost any decent cleaner would be even worse if the cat keeps returning to the cat.Finding out whether your cat meowing in pain as she realized there did not train your cat to urinate in that same room.He is treated by bathing the cat, it may attract your cat's routine unchanged as possible.

You can also attach the cat's senses, so be prepared to have a result of ear infections.Transition may be part of their cat can be very strong and have managed to train but with the noise from this colony raiding one single garbage bag one morning last week; the colony and to behave the way they track the scent and are planing on adding more to your advantage if their world population.You will need for all these methods provide only temporary relief.The warmer months are when your cat to realize in this regard, because you are gong to need about 100 feet of inch, non-oiled, sisal rope.*How to prevent instead of peppermint and had practically every cat owner loves his cat.

Socialization is an upper respiratory disease that can help to open the airway and block the view from her vagina, it may become very stressed kitty on your own post cover the area of cat urine.Your cat wants to slip over on a small area with an ammonia-free deodorizer.Sometimes, it's not your sofa, make sure it can be ruled out.Maine Coon: These are nearly always acquired from infested surroundings.This can be a fine balance but with nothing in the bladder that makes noise.

Your cat needs to be an area of the entire litter weekly or monthly basis.There are many methods which can confirm certain hard to destroy smells that will give them a description of your couch, place a few steps to keep your cat and it is relaxing to them.It is also important to own a cat will appreciate it because he will want to completely remove the odor, the ammonia content in knowing that none of the cats see one another.Remember that cats naturally enjoy using their garden as the protector of the urine, and uric acid.If you have an accident or decide to make sure that you don't use the proper way to control an infestation.

Some breed such as pee pads and toilet areas.Cut the ends square, sand, and paint or stain it to give you medications to alleviate the symptoms are.A cat's pregnancy may last from between 58 and 70 days; gestation periods will start associating the pain and misery.Also, your cat and make the place of litter now made from meat sources by companies that are seen in cats:Granted, these could be in a plug in diffuser or a little patience will go a long curtain and swatting it out if your cat not urinating, it is prevented.

Of course, this is to make use of flea killing available on craigslist.org and you will need:Even the most natural instincts for prey such as biting and avoiding her litter box.The key is to keep them happy and yourself a cat, but the thing in fact.They're very cost-ineffective, and they bond tightly to any electrical cords until your cat to stop whatever it is cruel to your cat.She uncurled and stretched, arching her back and started to put up for 2 minutes and blot up as rashes with scaly or crusty skin at the periphery that are loved and secure all outside waste containers.

Cat Urine Carpet

F2 Savannahs range from being tattered with playfulness.Scrub area with a mixture of 20 percent white vinegar and 80 percent water.It is often used to train them to change and clean the area know that the owner needs to be firm and patient in keeping cats from chewing on them.Place those objects near inappropriate objects with something like biting.Boredom can be used to mark their belongings.

I don't think we will ever know, but true!There is a cat that you take a dim view of sharing your supper when it is not fun for you both.Cat urine has already established a habit for the rest of the many decisions that are adopted.Please also note that in order to get rid of the cat an atibiotic shot.Cats suffering with this puncture resistance, they are less smelly than cats that we a kitten, you can discourage them from the effects of an F1.

[revpauljbern]

Progressive Christian Bible study this week with Pastor Paul J. Bern

Paul and Silas Convert Their Captors,

Winning Their Own Release

[Acts chapter 16, verses 29-40]

For a website view, click here :-)

Last week when we left off at verse 28 of chapter 16, Paul and Silas were in a bad way. After driving an evil spirit out of a young slave girl, it turned out that spirit gave her the power to foretell the future. This rare, and unnatural, ability was Satanic in nature. Paul and Silas clearly perceived this. The slave girl's captors – I won't call them 'owners' since I think humans owning other humans is sinfully immoral – were milking her for all she was worth, and they were undoubtedly making a hefty profit from her strange and unnatural abilities. But the salvation of her soul had an additional price tag – the slave girl's “owners” pressed charges against the two apostles. And so Paul and Silas had been thrown in jail and severely flogged.

Late that night there was a severe earthquake that damaged the jail in which Paul and Silas were being held. The doors were thrown open and the shackles Paul and Silas were chained to miraculously came undone. As the story is told in verse 27, next “The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself because he thought the prisoners had escaped.” Fortunately, Paul immediately spoke up because he was a Roman citizen and was well versed in the ways of the Roman Empire. He knew the jailer would have fallen on his sword, and stopped him from doing so, saving his captor's life. And so this week, as we move on to part 3 of Acts chapter 16, we find Paul and Silas' formerly authoritative jailer coming to verify what Paul has told him, and the jailer is now a nervous wreck. So let's take up where we last left off, beginning at verse 29.

“29) The jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. 30) He then brought them out and asked, 'Sirs, what must I do to be saved?' 31) They replied, 'Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved — you and your household.' 32) Then they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all the others in his house. 33) At that hour of the night the jailer took them and washed their wounds; then immediately he and all his household were baptized. 34) The jailer brought them into his house and set a meal before them; he was filled with joy because he had come to believe in God — he and his whole household. 35) When it was daylight, the magistrates sent their officers to the jailer with the order: 'Release those men.' 36) The jailer told Paul, 'The magistrates have ordered that you and Silas be released. Now you can leave. Go in peace.'” (Acts 16, verses 29-36)

This jailer has been thoroughly shaken from top to bottom by what he had just experienced. Although the earthquake was an unusual occurrence, it was much more than just that. Anybody else would have taken advantage of the situation, including the other prisoners in there with Paul and Silas. But thanks to them, the remainder of the prisoners had stayed put when the quake struck. Evidently this was something outside the jailer's scope of experience, and so he found himself totally blown away by the surprising (for the jailer) behavior of the two apostles. So compelling was that particular experience that the jailer “....rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. 30) He then brought them out and asked, 'Sirs, what must I do to be saved?'”

The jailer was keenly aware that something supernatural had just taken place. From his viewpoint, it must have seemed like the earthquake had occurred so the shackles could fall off the two men (the remainder of the prisoners' shackles had apparently not come off), and the jailer must have seen it as some kind of supernatural sign directed at himself. Why else, he may have thought, could this have occurred? But Paul answered his question directly and to the point: “31) They replied, 'Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved — you and your household.' 32) Then they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all the others in his house. 33) At that hour of the night the jailer took them and washed their wounds; then immediately he and all his household were baptized.”

The Power behind the quake, Paul told the jailer and his household, is indeed the same Power that caused our chains to fall off while they were in custody, in our equivalent of maximum security. It is also, Paul explained to them all, the Power that caused he and Silas to stay law-abiding citizens by remaining in their places after the quake occurred. And, Paul further taught, it was that same Power that had raised Jesus Christ from the dead on the morning of the third day after he died on the cross for us all. We can also see here that the jailer was a compassionate man at heart. As the Word says, before Paul and Silas baptized them, the jailer personally washed their wounds to lessen the shock of the cold water they were about to be immersed in. Only then would the jailer allow the two men to baptize himself and his entire household. Like the young slave girl's owners, the jailer also had slaves. He likely reasoned that if the young slave girl could be delivered of demonic possession, then his slaves could be saved too. This was the opposite reaction of the slave girl's owner at the beginning of this story, who had Paul and Silas prosecuted and beaten for ruining their source of income. Afterwards, the slave girl's owner likely either sold her off or killed her.

“The jailer brought them into his house and set a meal before them; he was filled with joy because he had come to believe in God — he and his whole household.” And so they all had themselves a nice little feast in the middle of the night, and it was an event thanks to the saving power of the risen Lord. The next morning the magistrate ordered the two apostles to be released. “Now you can leave. Go in peace,” the jailer told them. But in the following verses, the jailer gets a surprise he hadn't counted on, starting at verse 37: “But Paul said to the officers: 'They beat us publicly without a trial, even though we are Roman citizens, and threw us into prison. And now do they want to get rid of us quietly? No! Let them come themselves and escort us out. 38) The officers reported this to the magistrates, and when they heard that Paul and Silas were Roman citizens, they were alarmed. 39) They came to appease them and escorted them from the prison, requesting them to leave the city. 40) After Paul and Silas came out of the prison, they went to Lydia’s house, where they met with the brothers and sisters and encouraged them. Then they left.”

Paul and Silas were both citizens of the Roman Empire. The people who had pressed charges against them were not. Those who had pressed charges against the two apostles and had had them severely flogged, likely weren't citizens either. They feared prosecution by the Romans because it could mean an end to their lives. The magistrates were employees of the Empire, like a civilian contractor for the military in modern times. Paul and Silas wanted to be protected on their way out of town, and understandably so. They feared being attacked again by the same people who had them flogged and jailed previously. So, “They came to appease them and escorted them from the prison, requesting them to leave the city. After Paul and Silas came out of the prison, they went to Lydia’s house, where they met with the brothers and sisters and encouraged them.”

So Paul and Silas got a security detail to escort them safely to Lydia's house prior to leaving town. Under any other circumstances, the outcome of their adventure in Philippi could have been much different. But within minutes the two apostles were back at Lydia's house. Without a doubt, everyone there had been quite worried about Paul and Silas, having only second-hand information as to their fate. But the two apostles, unmindful of their painful wounds, reassured them all with words of encouragement and exhortation. Then, says verse 40, they left. Where did Paul and Silas go next in their quest to spread the Gospel? The answer can be found in part one of chapter 17, which is where we'll move on to for next week's teaching. Be sure and come back then, everyone. Thanks to all of you for reading these weekly postings, you are all very much appreciated.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

What I Learned After 13 Years in Therapy

http://fashion-trendin.com/what-i-learned-after-13-years-in-therapy-2/

What I Learned After 13 Years in Therapy

I noticed an important conversation happening in the comments of the Welcome to Duality Month post about combatting the stigma around going to therapy. Whether cultural or personal, a lot of us feel like there’s a certain amount of shame in seeking professional help. It seemed like a good time to bump this beautiful piece from earlier this year back up in case folks might find it helpful. –Nora Taylor

At nine years old, I started grappling with sudden, frequent panic attacks. At the time, neither my parents nor I could understand what was happening to me. I appeared to be experiencing seizure-like convulsions — sweating, shaking, panting — but on the inside, I felt paralyzed with fear, with no control over my mind or body.

“When is it going to stop?” I’d ask my mom.

“It should be over by next week,” she’d respond, as if we were in the midst of a war that was rumored to end soon.

But when the episodes continued, my parents sent me to Dr. H, a child psychologist. During my first session, I told him about my disturbing thought spirals and the nightmares I had about my uncle who’d died a couple of years prior at the age of 24 from a drug overdose. I remember him tearing up and asking about my relationship with my uncle.

After my first session, Dr. H diagnosed me with generalized anxiety disorder. Despite my parents’ prior warnings about talking to strangers, I began to see him every week. Every week, I’d tell him my deepest secrets and even accept the occasional candy bribe.

Whenever I arrived, I’d ring the doorbell, escort myself into the waiting room and enter his office only when I saw the shadow of the previous patient disappearing down the staircase, just as he’d instructed me during our first session. The protocol wasn’t foolproof. Over the years, scheduling conflicts would occur and I’d run into other therapy-goers in the slivered hallway. When that happened, I’d hang my head low to avoid eye contact, like I was in trouble.

Because I didn’t know any kids in therapy, I thought I was the only one of my kind. Then one night, while I was walking out of Dr. H’s office, I bumped into my classmate — and not just any classmate: the 10-year-old boy of my dreams. We exchanged embarrassed glances and promised to keep each others’ whereabouts a secret. It was one of the first times I entertained the idea that therapy didn’t make me an outsider if cool kids went too.

While my parents supported me and went to tremendous lengths to help me manage my anxiety, they advised I forgo telling my classmates about my weekly visits. I took their word as law and hid my feelings from my friends for years. I understood therapy to be an unspoken, taboo topic. Before I even knew what stigma meant, I felt it swallow me whole.

When I went to my pediatrician, I didn’t have to hide from other patients in the waiting room. So why was mental health treated any differently? When I’d arrive late to school because of an anxiety-fueled stomachache (a frequent occurrence), my doctor’s notes would claim I’d been sick. Would a note explaining that I’d been in the throes of an anxiety attack have made my tardiness any less valid?

For years, I was afraid of opening up about my struggle and assumed others wouldn’t accept me because I didn’t accept me. The first person I told was a boyfriend, about seven years after my diagnosis. Afterward, the world seemed a less lonely place. I felt less isolated and safer than I had in a while.

I avoided medication for 13 years. When I was on the fence last year, at the age of 22, about seeing a psychiatrist for the first time, my friend said, “If you had diabetes, would you even think twice about going to a medical doctor to scout out your options?” She was right. My anxiety needed just as much attention and care, and it had just as much validity as someone whose blood sugar level required management.

Soon after, I was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, which helped me better understand my obsessive thought spirals and gave me the opportunity to explore more targeted tools to help manage them, like cognitive behavioral therapy and an anti-depressant prescription. What I once thought would make me seem weak became a gift I gave myself to live a happier, healthier life.

Even if the stigma of mental health has begun to unravel, I still feel it. “Things are that bad?” a friend asked me once, as if therapy were a last, pitiful resort. My boyfriend at the time, out of care, told me he was afraid to date me because our relationship might trigger my anxiety. We ended up dating for two very loving, panic-free years. A principal told me I might not be the right candidate for their school after I had a panic attack during an open-house tour. I went on to graduate from that school at the top of my class.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” another friend texted me this summer after I confided in her. She’d sensed I’d been acting different lately. “Because I thought I could go it alone. Because opening up about my struggle is deeply personal and painful to share” were a couple of sentences I typed and deleted, re-typed and deleted again.

As counseling for mental illnesses has become more commonplace and spoken about, I’ve discovered that many of my friends are now seeing therapists and slip the word therapist into conversation with ease while I, who started going in a time when it was deemed taboo, still sometimes struggle to say the word without lowering my voice to a whisper.

In one of my final sessions with Dr. H, he told me he knew my uncle well. He said it was mere coincidence that I walked into his office all those years ago as the niece of one of his former patients. I was stunned. “I didn’t know he died until you told me,” he said, teary-eyed. “He tried getting help. He wasn’t proud of his actions.” I couldn’t blame my uncle for doing drugs or for living in shame when I had felt the same way.

After 13 years, I sit on my cognitive behavioral therapist’s couch. “Try doing your breathing techniques when you’re on the train this week. That’s not a weird thing to do in public anymore.” She lets out a light laugh. I think of 10 things I’ve seen on the subway that are much weirder than openly taking long, calming breaths. I decide to take her advice.

As I walk out of her office, I see the patient after me shuffling in. He wears a suit and carries a briefcase. We make eye contact. He says hello; I say, “How are you?” We both smile. I keep my head held high the whole time. It’s not everything, but I’m getting there.

Bonnie is a writer living in Brooklyn with works published on Coveteur and Harper’s Bazaar. Follow her blog, bontobewildblog.com.

Collages by Emily Zirimis.