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rishikulyogshalagoa · 5 months

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200-HOUR YOGA TEACHER TRAINING IN GOA, INDIA AND SET OUT ON A TRANSFORMATIVE JOURNEY

Introduction:

Yoga is a journey towards self-discovery, mindfulness, and overall well-being; it’s not simply about physical postures. With its tranquil scenery and genuine teachings, India has become a global hub for yogic seekers in recent years. With immersive experiences that extend beyond the poses, Goa is a standout among the many yoga destinations in India for teacher training. The 200-hour yoga teacher training program in Goa offers one such life-changing experience, fusing traditional knowledge with contemporary techniques in a melodious fusion.

Understanding the Significance:

A 200-hour yoga teacher training program serves as the foundational step for aspiring yoga teachers and enthusiasts alike. It delves deep into the philosophy, anatomy, and techniques of yoga, equipping participants with the knowledge and skills to embark on their teaching journey or deepen their personal practice. In the vibrant setting of Goa, surrounded by lush greenery and pristine beaches, this training becomes a transformative experience that transcends boundaries and connects individuals with their inner selves.

The Essence of Goa:

Nestled along the Arabian Sea on India’s west coast, Goa exudes a unique charm that captivates visitors from around the globe. Its laid-back atmosphere, tropical climate, and rich cultural heritage make it an ideal destination for yoga retreats and teacher training programs. Amidst the tranquil ambiance of Goa, participants of the 200-hour yoga teacher training find themselves immersed in an environment conducive to learning, introspection, and growth.

Exploring the Curriculum:

The curriculum of a 200-hour yoga teacher training program in Goa is thoughtfully crafted to provide a comprehensive understanding of yoga in all its facets. From the study of traditional yogic texts like the Yoga Sutras and Bhagavad Gita to practical sessions on asanas, pranayama, and meditation, every aspect of yoga is covered with depth and precision. Experienced instructors guide participants through each step of the journey, ensuring a balance between theory and practice.

Key Highlights:

Traditional Teachings: Participants have the opportunity to learn from seasoned yoga teachers who impart authentic teachings passed down through generations.

Experiential Learning: The training emphasizes experiential learning, allowing participants to embody the teachings and integrate them into their daily lives.

Community Connection: Being part of a close-knit community of like-minded individuals fosters a sense of belonging and support, enhancing the overall learning experience.

Self-Exploration: Through introspective practices like journaling, self-reflection, and group discussions, participants gain insights into their own inner landscape and develop a deeper connection with themselves.

Benefits Beyond Certification: While the primary goal of a 200-hour yoga teacher training program is to obtain certification, the benefits extend far beyond that. Participants often report profound transformations on physical, mental, and spiritual levels. Improved flexibility, strength, and posture are just the beginning; the real magic lies in the inner journey of self-discovery and self-realization that unfolds during the training.

Understanding the Significance:

The Essence of Goa: Nestled along the Arabian Sea on India’s west coast, Goa exudes a unique charm that captivates visitors from around the globe. Its laid-back atmosphere, tropical climate, and rich cultural heritage make it an ideal destination for yoga retreats and teacher training programs. Amidst the tranquil ambiance of Goa, participants of the 200-hour yoga teacher training find themselves immersed in an environment conducive to learning, introspection, and growth.

Exploring the Curriculum: The curriculum of a 200-hour yoga teacher training program in Goa is thoughtfully crafted to provide a comprehensive understanding of yoga in all its facets. From the study of traditional yogic texts like the Yoga Sutras and Bhagavad Gita to practical sessions on asanas, pranayama, and meditation, every aspect of yoga is covered with depth and precision. Experienced instructors guide participants through each step of the journey, ensuring a balance between theory and practice.

Key Highlights:

Traditional Teachings: Participants have the opportunity to learn from seasoned yoga teachers who impart authentic teachings passed down through generations.

Experiential Learning: The training emphasizes experiential learning, allowing participants to embody the teachings and integrate them into their daily lives.

Community Connection: Being part of a close-knit community of like-minded individuals fosters a sense of belonging and support, enhancing the overall learning experience.

Benefits Beyond Certification:

While the primary goal of a 200-hour yoga teacher training program is to obtain certification, the benefits extend far beyond that. Participants often report profound transformations on physical, mental, and spiritual levels. Improved flexibility, strength, and posture are just the beginning; the real magic lies in the inner journey of self-discovery and self-realization that unfolds during the training.

Conclusion:

More than just a certification program, completing a 200-hour yoga teacher training program in Goa is a transformative experience that affects the mind, body, and spirit. You will acquire important knowledge and abilities as well as set out on a transforming path towards holistic well-being and self-awareness when you immerse yourself in the peaceful beauty of Goa while practicing yoga. Thus, why hold off? Goa can be your guiding light on this amazing journey of self-discovery and personal development. Take the first step towards your yoga path.

Visit: https://rishikulyogshalagoa.com/200-hr/

Business Details:

Rishikul Yogshala Goa

Address: Arambol, North Goa, India - 403524

Call: +9174486 77761

Email: [email protected]

Visit us: www.rishikulyogshalagoa.com

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cmncisspnandmore · 4 months

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All hands on deck -Part 3

Parings: Poly!Taskforce141 X Wife!Reader

Warnings: None?

Word count: 7844

Not beta read or edited, all mistakes are mine.

Previous: Part 2

2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days.1,344 hours. 80,640 minutes.

That’s how long John, Kyle, Simon and Johnny had been gone.

You rest your head on your hand, sitting on the dark brown chair in the corner of the playroom. Your mug of peppermint tea sitting on a coaster next to you, Right next to the book Kyle was reading before he left. Hope sits on the floor, smashing wooden blocks together, her little cheeks flushed pink. Her short brown hair pulled up in two tiny pigtails. Theo lays on the oversized bean bag, rubbing his eyes furiously.

“Mama,” he whines, and you look over, blinking rapidly as you focus on the 4 year old.

“Yes baby?”

“I want Papa!” he cries, head tipping back as a harsh sob leaves his lips.

“I know baby, i know,” you frown, standing from your chair, walking over to the overtired toddler and picking him up.He presses his face into the side of your neck.

“I want Papa,” he whines again, his voice tired. For the past 2 weeks Theo had refused to go to bed, throwing monumental fits, throwing himself to the ground and crying for hours. Nothing you did soothed him, it always ended the same way, you sitting outside his bedroom door, your own tears trailing down your cheeks as you listened to him cry himself to sleep. The days with him weren't much easier, his overtiredness causing every small thing to be a battle. He had started going after Hope, hitting her, biting her, and then in turn hitting you when you tried to break them up.

The only saving grace for your sanity was that the older children had school during the day. With 3 of your 5 children gone from the house 8 hours a day you were at least able to have some semblance of order. But the house was nowhere near where you wanted it to be. The dishes piled up in the sink. Laundry wasn't done, and the entire house needed to be deep cleaned. But there wasn't enough time in the day.

You felt like you were drowning, an engine running without gas. Between waking up at every small sound in the house, Theo’s refusal to sleep, and getting up at 5am each morning to get breakfast and lunches done for the older kids. Not to mention the never ending errands you had to run, going to the grocery store, bringing Kira to gymnastics, Joseph to football, Isla to ballet.

You were exhausted.

Theo sniffles into your neck, and you rub his back gently, trying to soothe him.

“I want Papa,” he says softly, his tears soaking the collar of your pink blouse.

“I know, I wish I knew when he was going to be home,” you breathe. Your lips brush over his cheek, your hand making small circles on his back. Hope toddles over to you, her hands gripping your pant legs. Her big blue eyes turned up towards you.

“Up! Up!” she demands, her hands pulling on your yoga pants. You crouch and pick her up, settling her on your other hip. Theo notices and reaches over smacking her in the face. It takes Hope a moment to register what happened and she starts screaming.

“Theo!” you scold, putting the 4 year old on his feet. He stares up at you with his brown eyes. Tiny brows furrowed in anger.

“No! No Hope! I don't like her!” he screams, raising his tiny fists to beat against your leg. You cradle Hope to your chest as Theo beats on your thigh. Big tears stream down her cheeks, a tiny hand print on her face,

“Theo we don't hit, it's not nice.” You sigh, looking down at him. His face is red and angry as he continues to hit you. “Damnit Theo ENOUGH!” You yell, and he stops immediately, his lower lip trembling. You watch as his face scrunches up and he starts to scream.

“I no like you Mama!” he screeches before he takes off from the playroom, his angry footsteps disappearing down the hall. You close your eyes, your head pounding, Hope still crying softly in your arms. Theo’s angry screams down the hall, you take a deep breath. Trying to compose yourself, as you walk down the hallway.

“Do you want some strawberries? Will that make you feel better?” You ask Hope, and she stops crying almost immediately. You shake your head, she was definitely one of your husbands kids, food seemed to be the cure all for her. You walk down the hall and set her in her highchair. You see Theo’s feet peeking out from under the island counter, but don't say anything. You know if you said something to him he would just lash out at you. He was like a tightly wound spring, one wrong move and he exploded.

You grab the container of berries from the fridge and start cutting them into small pieces, plating them on one of Hope’s tiny pink plates. You deposit them on her tray and she digs in, hands fisting as much fruit as she can. She shoves fistfull after fistfull into her mouth. Strawberry juice dribbled down her chin, staining her yellow dress pink.

A little hand grabs the bottom of your pants as you put the knife into the kitchen sink. You glance down, Theos small hand grips the black fabric tight. You kneel down, knees cracking as you come face to face with your overtired four year old.

“Sowwy Mama…” he says softly, looking down at the cream tile.

“I accept your apology, but we don’t use our hands to hit people. It’s not nice, Hope didn’t do anything to you. I know you miss Papa, Dad, Da and Daddy. I wish I could make them appear so they could hug you sooo tight they squish all the sad outta you, but I can’t. And I miss them too, Theo. It’s okay to be upset, but it’s not okay to use your hands to hurt people, okay?” You rub your fingers over the backs of his hands, and he nods. Brown curls falling into his face, you brush them back smiling softly at him.

“C’mon, how about you have a snack before we go pick up the twins and Isla from the bus stop, does that sound nice?” You reach for him, pulling him to his feet. He nods, “we have any blueberries?”

“We sure do,” you smile, and Theo races to a chair, scrambling up it. He rests his elbows on the table, and watches as you grab them from the fridge and put them back in a bowl for him.

You take a seat opposite of him, watching as he eats the small blue fruit. Your head resting on your hand, your head still pounds. Each beat of your heart is like a hammer in your head. You rub your temples, wincing as Hope starts to bang her plate on the high chair tray.

“More! More! More!” she laughs, the plate clattering to the floor.

“Okay, okay, you can have a few more,” you push back your chair, grabbing her plate from the floor, you squick some blueberries for her, and give her back the plate. Theo and Hope eat their fruit happily, your eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. It was almost time to go to the bus stop to get the other kids.

“Eat up my friends, we gotta go get your siblings in a moment,” you muse, walking down the hall. You collect Theo and Hope's shoes, after slipping on a pair of flats. Theo’s dinosaur sneakers are tattered and in need of replacing. You sigh as the velcro closure hangs on by mere threads. It was always something. You kneel in front of Hope’s highchair and slide her baby pink crocs onto her feet. Her face smeared in pink and purple juices from her snack. You wipe her mouth with your sleeves, staining your shirt. You could hear Simon's voice in your head, grumbling about trying to get stains out of your shirts. A smile ticked up on your lips, he did most of the laundry when they were home. He claimed the monotonous task quieted his mind, much like when he cleaned his gun. He would always scold you for using your shirt or pants to wipe the various messes off the children. At one point he was convinced you did it just to punish him.

Not that it was your intention. You never did it maliciously to give him more to do, but with 5 kids it was faster to just use your shirt or pants to wipe small messes than find a rag. There was barely enough time to use your shirt before they smeared it over the furniture.

The clock on the wall chimes, 3pm, the soft melodic song pulling you from your thoughts. You quickly slip on Theo’s shoes, and pull Hope from her high chair.

“Lets go my friend, time to get the others,” you hold your hand. Theo climbs off the chair, shoving his last berry in his mouth. His tiny hand slips into yours, as you walk down the hall. Pulling open the front door you glance around, hoping that maybe the black sub they took to base would be pulling down the driveway, but it was empty. Only the discarded bikes and sidewalk chalk there. The chalk drawings faded from the sun, and various shoes walked across it.

The bus stop was at the end of your street, about a 5 minute walk from your house. Theo holds your hand the whole way, eagerly looking at the houses as you pass them. He points out all the different color flowers that are starting to bloom in your neighbors yards. A group of parents stand at the end of the street, all of them talking among themselves.

“Mama! Piper!” Theo exclaims tugging on your hand as he spots his friend. Piper was your next door neighbor Maria’s daughter. She was the youngest of 3, only a few months older than Theo.

“Alright go on, but stay on the grass,” You call after him as he pulls away from you, little legs carrying him towards the red headed toddler. Piper notices his running, and jumps up and down tugging on her mothers dress. Maira says something to her and she runs up to Theo, pulling him over to the grass on the edge of the street. Threry sink into the grass, plucking flowers from the ground and making them into a pile.

“Hey” Maria greets you as you walk up to the group. A few other parents giving you a small wave.

“Hi,” You smile, shifting Hope higher on your hip.

“Hello Little Missy,” Maria greets Hope, her hands coming to snatch her from you. She settles Hope on her hip, Hopes hands playing with the beaded necklace she wears. ‘How’ve you been? Have they come home yet?”

“Not yet,” you shake your head and Maria reaches out, her hand squeezing your arm lightly.

“I’m sorry, love, hopefully they’ll be home soon,” she gives you a reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” you run your hand through your hair. “The past few weeks have been a lot.”

“You look tired, if you need anything let me know,” Maria pats your arm. “I’ll watch this little cutie for you any day, and Piper had been begging for Theo to come over and play. Maybe we can set up a playdate for them later this week? I can take them for a few hours and you can get some rest.”

Your eyes water, Maria was always so kind to you. She knew what it was like to have a husband who was gone alot. Her own husband worked a lot overseas in the states, she would often just stop over with a meal for your family when she knew the guys were gone.

“Oh hun, don’t cry.” She whispers, pulling you towards her. Her arms wrapping around your shoulders, Hope smushed between you two as she embraced you.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you wipe at the tears that collect on your lower lash line.

“Don’t apologize, you’ve got a lot on your plate, I’ get overwhelmed with 3, I can’t imagine 5. Kids are a lot of work, and it’s not like they’re sitting in an office somewhere like my Michael. They’re out god knows where putting their lives on the line. I at least get the comfort of knowing Michael is in a hotel room each night safe. I couldn’t imagine not knowing where my husband was, if he was alright. And you have not 1 but 4 people to worry about.” Her hand rests on your shoulder, the warmth from her palm seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

“I know, I just feel so stupid being upset by it. It’s been almost 8 years of dealing with it. I mean god, I’ve been with them since I was 18,” you sniffle, taking a deep breath.

“8 years is a long time, they’ve been your safe place for most of your adult life. It’s hard to not know when you’ll get that security back. No one is judging you for having a hard time.” She adjusts Hope in her arms, switching her to the other hip. She studies you for a moment, before she leans in. “If there’s something you need to talk to me about, I’m a pretty good secret keeper.” Her eyes drift to your stomach before she looks back at your face. A suggestive smile on her lips.

“Oh, no! No!” You wave your hands in the air. “That’s not it at all, I haven’t even gotten my period back since Hope stopped breastfeeding. Soon hopefully,” you laugh, as the bus pulls up to the end of the street.

“Okay..” Maria hums, handing your youngest back to you. Theo runs over to you grabbing your leg as he watches the bus doors open. A few neighborhood kids get off before you 3 do. Joseph spots you first, his black backpack over one shoulder, he runs over. Kira and Isla follow.

“Are they home yet Mama?” Joseph asks, hope flaring in his blue eyes. Blue eyes that looked exactly like Johnny’s.

“Not yet Babe, soon though,” you pat his head, running your fingers through his short brown hair.

“It’s okay Mama,” he sighs, a frown on his lips as he shrugs his backpack up higher. Isla skips over, her bright pink sneakers lighting up.

“C’mon Theo I'll race you home!” Isla teases her younger brother, and they both take off. Isla clearly lets Theo stay ahead of her, she steps far shorter than normal.

“Stay on the side of the road please! And where I can see you!” You call after them. Kira and Joseph walk next to you. Both of them are unusually quiet on the walk home. Isla coaches Theo on stopping at each mailbox on the way back to the house. Always looking over her shoulder to make sure you weren't far behind.

“Everything okay?” You ask, bumping your hip into Kira’s shoulder.

Her blonde hair has started to come loose from her braid, stray tendrils of hair falling into her face. She shrugs slightly, kicking at a rock with her shoe.

“Someone said that we’re weird because we have 4 Dads and that there's no way we could have 4 dads that three of them aren't really our dads.” Joseph chimes in, swinging Hope's hand back and forth, as he walks next to you.

“That's not true, your fathers are most definitely your dads. They all love you,” you frown.

“But it’s true isn't it? I'm Daddy’s and Joseph is Da’s, Theo is Dad’s, and Hope and Isla are Papas… That's why my hair is blonde like Daddy’s and Theo’s skin is brown like Dads. Joseph, Isla and Hope all have blue eyes and brown hair because Da and Papa have brown hair and blue eyes,” Kira crosses her arms over her chest, one hand playing a strand of her blonde hair.

“Yes, you’re right about that. You may look like Daddy, but who reads you a story every night when he's home?” You touch her shoulder gently as you reach your driveway.

“Dad does,” She looks up at you with furrowed brows.

“And who makes you whatever you want for breakfast on sunday morning?”

“Papa…” she trails off.

“And who gives you the best hugs when you’re sad? Besides me of course.” You smile,

“Da..”

“And who plays whatever game you want, whenever you want?”

A smile forms on her lips, “daddy.”

“And all of those things are what Fathers do for their kids right?” You ask, setting Hope down in the front yard and she takes off towards Theo and Isla.

“Mhmm..” she stands in front of you, as you crouch down. Your hands holding hers, giving them a soft squeeze.

“So just because you might be Daddy’s kid biologically, doesn't mean your fathers don't love any less, or love any of the other kids more. All of them love so much, and they would do anything for any of you guys. They are no less your dad just because you don't have the same blood type or the same hair color. Because family isn't about who you’re related to, it's about who loves you. If you were to ask any of them how many kids they had, they would say they have 5 beautiful, smart, kind and caring kids. Kids they love more than anything in the entire world, and nothing will ever change that. A lot of people have more than one Mom or dad. You remember Sophie right, she used to live down the street before she moved.” You gently tuck some of the loose hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, Sophie had two Moms because her Dad married someone else after her mom died,” She nods a small smile on her lips.

“So see, people can have more than one or dad, because all that matters is that they love you. So next time someone is mean to you, you just remember that your fathers love you so much, Kira. And nothing will ever change that.” You pull her to you and hug her, her arms wrapping around your neck. Her blonde hair tickles your cheek as she hugs you tight. Over her shoulder you watch as Hope chews on Islas backpack strap, Theo and Isla rolling around in the grass, Isla doing forward rolls and Theo trying to copy his older sister. Joseph watches you and Kira from the front steps. A smile forming on his lips, as you smile at him.

Your poor sensitive boy had been worried about Kira, he didn't like it when she was upset. Even as a baby whenever Kira would cry his little body would stiffen up, all his muscles tense until someone comforted her. For the longest time you had them sleeping in the same cot. When you tried to separate them they screamed and cried. You had been worried about safe sleep, insisting that they sleep separately. It was Kyle who suggested putting them in the same cot. After 5 days of little to no sleep you finally caved, and as soon as you laid Kira next to Joseph they both drifted off instantly. Little bodies pressed against each other.

It made sense, when you thought about it. They had only ever known life with another person stuck to their side. They couldn't understand why it had changed when they were born.

Now looking at your almost 8 year olds your heart aches. You loved them fiercely and the thought of people giving them a hard time about their dads made you crazy. Why couldn’t people just leave it alone, it’s not like you were hurting anyone. Your lifestyle didn’t cause anyone harm, no one was dead because you had four husbands.

There wasn't some catastrophic event that would happen because you found happiness in the arms of four men.

“Okay, Mama,” Kira pulls back slightly so there's some distance between you two. “Can we get pizza for dinner?”

You can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you, and you give her a small nod. “Sure Baby, let's all go inside. I’ll help you with your homework and then we’ll order pizza.”

Your back rests against Theos bedroom door, your ass went numb an hour ago. He had stopped crying, the camera app pulled up on your phone showing him laying across his bed, little legs hanging off his bed. His mouth opens as he snores softly.

After dinner it was a shit show. Hope threw up all her pizza, Theo decided to draw on the walls, Kira and Joseph got in a huge screaming match over whose turn it was to pick a movie. And Isla had accidentally run into the glass cabinet in the dining room and broke it, earning herself a small cut on her hand.

Your night ended with Theo throwing the world's longest tantrum because his Papa still wasn't home to tuck him in.

You weren't sure how much more of this you could take. Your entire body hurt, your head pounded with each beat of your heart. Every muscle felt like you went 10 rounds with Simon. Your head knocks softly against the door, as you look up at the white ceiling of the hallway.

It was almost 2 in the morning and despite how bone crushingly tired you were, you couldn't find it in you to get up. To crawl into your massive bed and lay there, missing your men. Sleeping alone for most people was a luxury, especially for someone who had as big of a bed as yours. But to you, the empty bed with more pillows and blankets than one person could need was a constant reminder that they weren't home.

You had tried calling their cell phones earlier, knowing that it would just go straight to voicemail. You had just needed to hear their voices, hoping it would give you the strength to get through the night.

Tears prick the back of your eyes, your throat constricting with emotion. You missed them so much it was starting to physically hurt. You could feel the hole in your chest growing with each passing day. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and they started to fall rapidly. Your breathing turns harsh and rapid as you fold over on yourself. Hands gripping your knees as you sob. Your spine digs into the hard wood of the door behind you, but you barely notice. The physical discomfort is no match for the bone deep ache in your heart. Each breath is like a million tiny needles embedding into your lungs as you struggle to pull in oxygen.

Your soft sobs echo through the hallway, and you’re honestly surprised you haven’t woken one of your children. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you bite back a scream that threatens to rip from you. Your vision becomes spotty as you hyperventilate, and eventually it becomes too much and you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Warm hands, soft voices, the smell of jasmine and vanilla. Another set of hands, these ones larger. A different scent, one of gunpowder and leather.

“C’mon Darling, open your beautiful eyes,” a gruff voice coaxed.

John.

“She’s not runnin’ a fever…” another voice, this one laced with an accent.

Johnny.

“Baby? Can you hear us?” A warm palm brushes over your forehead.

Kyle.

“Give her a minute, the poor thing looks exhausted.”

Simon.

Your eyes flutter open and you blink at the harsh overhead light from the ceiling fan over your bed. People swim at the edges of your vision and you rub your eyes, trying to focus. When you pull your hands away from your eyes, you have a sudden feeling of Deja vu. Four sets of eyes peer down at you. Two sets of blue, two sets of brown.

“There you are,” John's lips tip up in a small smile.

“I’m not dead right?” You whisper, voice hoarse.

“No, Baby, you’re alive,” Kyle laughs slightly, his warm hand coming to brush along your cheek. You lean into his hand, the warmth from his fingers seeping into the skin of your cheek. You look at the others, they’re still wearing their fatigues, you push yourself up onto your elbows.

“When did you get home?” You ask, your gaze landing on Simon. He stands against the wall opposite your bed. Eyebrows furrowed as he watched you like a hawk.

“20 minutes ago,” Johnny answers, slipping onto the bed next to you, he pulls you towards him. He cradles you against his chest, his lips brushing your cheek.

“You were asleep outside Theo’s door, you look exhausted Darling,” John puts his boonie hat on the dresser, and pulls his gun out of the waistband of his pants. He walks over, shoving Johnny over for a second to grabs his as well. John disappears into the walk-in closet and you can hear the beep of the electronic lock for their gun safe.

“Oh…” you murmur as Johnny tucks you under his chin, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.

“I take things have been rough?” Kyle sits on the other side of you. As if on cue, the baby monitor for Theo’s room screeches to life.

“Mama!!! I want Papa!!” Theo’s little voice crackles over the monitor.

John pokes his head out of the closet, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpant. “That’s my cue,” he mutters, walking over to the bed and dropping a kiss to your head. He slips from the room, and a moment later you hear Theo’s bedroom door open.

“Papa?” Theo’s voice is small and sleepy.

“Hi buddy, you looking for me?” John says quietly.

Simon reaches forward and switches off the monitor. Before he disappears into the closet to change as well.

“Missed you Mo Chridhe..” Johnny kisses your shoulder and hair.

“Not as much as I missed all of you,” you smile, grabbing Kyle’s hand and squeezing softly.

“Go change MacTavish, you’re gonna ruin my sheets,” Simon grunts. “Stop hogging the wife too,” he crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you and Johnny.

Johnny sighs and climbs off the bed and Simon slips into his spot, pulling you basically on top of him. His lips press to the side of your head as he anchors his arms around your waist. You look at his face, the dark circles under his eyes and a new cut through his eyebrow. Every muscle in his body is tense. You feel like you’re cuddling a rock wall more than your husband.

Kyle heads into the bathroom leaving you and Simon alone for a few moments. You rest your head on his large chest, his heart beating frantically against his ribs.

“It’s okay Si… you’re home now.. you can relax,” you gently rub your fingers over his jaw. The muscles twitching under your fingers.

He lets out a long breath, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he presses his mouth to yours. He pours everything into the kiss, his worries, his anxiety, the love he feels for you. He leaves you breathless as he pulls back.

“Get some sleep, Lovie. You need it.” Simon lets you go slightly so you can settle into your spot in the middle of the bed. Kyle flicks the light switch off and climbs in behind Simon, his arm over Simon’s body and resting on your hip. A few seconds later Johnny slips into bed facing you, his hand grabbing yours.your eyes grow heavy as he settles the blankets over you. The soft click of the bedroom door, followed by a slight shift in the mattress as John climbs in, the last thing you remember before you drift off to sleep.

You wake the next morning, bed empty, and you sit up. Did you dream of them coming home?

You glance around the room, but when your eyes settle on John’s boonie hat and Simon’s skull balaclava sitting on the dresser, you know you didn’t.

Slipping from the bed you change into a pair of leggings and a top, quickly brushing your teeth. You can hear laughter from the floor below as you walk down the hall. All the kids' bedroom doors are open, and the scent of pancakes floats up the stairs.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look, this one looks like a smiley face!” Joseph laughs.

“Nice job bud, can you make another?” Simon’s deep voice replies.

You round the corner and pause in the doorway, Theo is snuggled up on John’s chest, as John sits in a chair. His large hands rubbed the four year olds back.

Hope sits in her high chair, Kyle perched on the edge of the table as he rips up a pancake for her. Her tiny hands are grabbing the pieces faster than he can place them.

Kira and Isla are sitting with Johnny at the table eating, their faces covered in sticky syrup, chocolate from the pancakes on their fingers.

“Hi Mama!” Joseph is the first to notice you, your shadowy figure at the edge of the doorway. All eyes snap to you, your children smiling before going back to what they were doing. Your husbands regard you for a few extra moments. Gaz only momentarily before Hope smacks her hands on her tray, demanding the man in front of her rip her pancake faster.

John smiles at you over Theo’s head, his head tipping towards the full coffee pot. He knew you well, the first thing you needed in the morning was a caffeine fix. Johnny watches as you walk to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a cup and adding all your favorite mix ins.

“Did ya sleep well?” He asks, wiping syrup from the table with a wet cloth.

“I did, best I’ve slept in awhile actually,” you hold the warm mug between your hands. You peer over the kitchen island where Simon is standing with Joseph making pancakes. He pours the batter onto the hot griddle before Joseph carefully drops various toppings into it. Blueberries for some, and chocolate chips for others.

“What kind do you want mama?” The boy asks, a smile on his lips as he shoves a stray chocolate chip into his mouth.

“I’m okay baby, thank you,” you walk over kissing his cheek before stretching up on your toes to kiss Simon’s. Simon’s brown eyes flicker over to you, but he doesn’t say anything just observing you.

You slide into a bar stool and watch as they continue to make stacks of pancakes. Once they are out of batter Simon plates two pancakes for Joseph, steering him in the direction of the table for him to eat. You raise your mug to your lips taking a small sip of your coffee. Your nose scrunching as the liquid slides over your tongue. Your stomach rolls slightly as you take another sip. You set the mug down on the counter, looking up to see Simon once again watching you. His hands held the empty bowl of pancake batter.

“Something wrong with the coffee?” He inquires and you swear his eyes can see right through to your very soul.

“I think the cream might be bad,” you push the mug away from you. Suddenly John’s hand is wrapping around the mug and he takes a sip. He’s quiet for a moment before he sets the cup down.

“Kira, Joseph, Isla, get ready for school,” John looks over at the kids who are staring at all of you. They quickly scramble from the room. Their footsteps race up the stairs as they run to their rooms to change.

“When did you find out?” He asks, and you look up at him puzzled.

“What?”

“You don’t have to hide it, baby. We weren’t kidding when we said it before we left.” Kyle pulls Hope from her high chair and comes to stand around the counter with the other two.

“Said what?” You look between Simon, Kyle and John, your eyes flickering between them all. Johnny comes over, dropping the kids plates into the large sink.

“About wanting another bairn,” he crosses his arms over his chest. A smirk on his face as he looks at you.

“I’m not pregnant.” You blurt out, running your hands over your face. When you pull your hands from your face they’re all staring at you with doubtful looks on their faces. “I’m not!”

“The only time you don’t like coffee is when you’re pregnant,” Simon states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“When was your last period?” Kyle asks, shifting Hope up higher in his arms.

“I haven’t gotten one since Hope stopped breastfeeding, that’s normal though,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“Did you not learn anything the last time you thought that?” Johnny laughs, and you cheeks flame. Okay so maybe they had a point, the last time you didn’t get a period after you stopped breastfeeding was when you got pregnant with Isla 3 months after the twins were born.

“Sod off,” you grumble, getting off the stool and storming up the stairs.

“Lovie! Don’t be like that, we aren’t mad!” Simon calls after you, but you don’t miss the laughter in his voice.

“I’ll prove you wrong! Just gimme a moment!” You slam the bathroom door closed, and drop to your knees in front of the bathroom vanity. You pull out baskets of random items. Gauze, kids hair brushes, extra tooth paste, a Barbie doll that went missing months ago. A half used box of tissues, and more. You finally spot what you’re looking for, a box of digital pregnancy tests you kept in the back of the vanity.

You don’t bother shoving anything back under the vanity, as you quickly pee on the test strip and put the blue plastic cover on. You jog back down the stairs, the test in your hand as you place it on the counter in front of them. The little digital screen blinks, the bars creeping ever so slow as you give each of them a glare.

John puts Theo on the floor and the 4 year old runs off, his own tiny feet going up the stairs as he goes to find his siblings. Kyle sets Hope on the counter, and she smacks the countertop with her hands, laughing at the sound that echoes through the quiet kitchen.

“Darling, we want as many children as you’ll give us,” John reaches over and flips the test over so no one can see the digital screen.

“We already have 5, how many more could we possibly need?” You sit on the bar stool, as Simon hands Hope 2 wooden spoons for her to play with. She shoves one in her mouth and waves the other around, almost smacking Gaz in the face.

“I’d like 3 more,” Johnny answers, leaning his forearms against the counter.

“8 Children total?” You stare at him, unable to wipe the slightly horrified look off your face. “You realize that there would be 13 people in our family at that point right?”

“What's got you shaken up Mo Chridhe?” he frowns at you.

“I-I don't know if i can handle 8 kids alone….” You whisper, your voice shaking.

You could barely keep the 5 you had already alive when they were gone. Add in 3 more and you were sure you weren't going to survive. But you loved your children, and had always wanted a huge family. It was something you dreamed of as a child, and you knew how much each of your husbands adored the children. Were you really ready to never have a newborn baby again? Never experience the first time a baby smiles or laughs. Your gaze flickers to Hope, as she sits on the counter top, drool trailing down her chin as she gnaws on the wooden spoon. Kyle watches her, a smile on his face as she smiles at him.

“We talked a lot on this last deployment, and we agreed we would be stepping back a lot,” John comes to stand behind your chair, his hands rubbing up and down your back.

“But you’re the best at what you do… I’d feel terrible if something catastrophic happened because you were home instead of where you were needed.” You look between the 3 of them in front of you.

“Love, here is where we’re needed,” Simon frowns.

“We’ve been doing this for a long time, longer than most task forces. It’s about time we think about passing the baton to another task force anyways. We’ve been talking with Laswell and she’d sent us some files of teams she thinks would be a good fit. We would train them, and we would still be working on base. But we wouldn't be deploying as much, only when we were really needed.” Kyle adds.

“We’ve been asked to help train and teach new recruits, we’ve got a lot of experience in the field, and it's helpful for them to learn from people who have been out there, seen what we have. We’ll still be doing what we love, but we’ll get to come home to our family every night. You won't have to worry if we’ll be coming back every time we walk out the door. You’d get the help with the children, and we’d get to see them more. Spend time with them. We’ve missed a lot over the years and we don't want to miss anymore.” Simon runs hand through his blonde hair, and your eyes fill with tears.

“You’re not just doing it for me right? You want to step back right?” You look over your shoulder at John.

“You’re part of the reason, but we’ve all taken a beating over the years. And it was getting time for us to retire anyways, we’re just doing it a few years earlier. But trust us Darling, we want to be home. Being out there doesn't give us the same thrill it did years ago. Being here, with you, that's what we look forward to.” John runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod.

“Okay,” you breathe, your eyes falling to the flipped over test.

“No matter what it says, we’ll be okay,” Kyle reaches across the table and rubs his fingers over your knuckles.

“What do you want it to say?” Simon asks, drawing your attention to him.

You chew your bottom lip, what did you want it to say?

You were happy with the 5 beautiful children you had. The twins, Isla, Theo and Hope, they were amazing children and you loved watching them everyday. But your family didn't feel complete. You didn't feel done, your heart still longed for more.You loved how close the kids you had now were, they were never alone, they always had someone to play with. And when the time came and none of you were around, they would still have each other.

“I want more,” you finally answer, and all 4 of the men in your life smile.

“Even if it's negative, we’ll keep trying okay?” John kisses the top of your head. Taking one last deep breath you reach forward and pick up the test. You look at all of them as they wait for you to flip it over.

Your hands shake slightly as you flip over the little blue test, 5 sets of eyes peer down at the small screen.

‘Pregnant, 3+’ stares back at you.

Johnny is the first to move as he nearly climbs over Kyle and John to get to you. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you from the chair, and spins you around. His face is buried in your neck as he holds you tight.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles as he presses his lips to yours.

“Get out of the way MacTavish,” John grumbles as he pulls you from Soap and into his arms, he presses a kiss to your lips as well. “I love you, thank you for giving us another.

“You don't have to thank me,” You laugh as you kiss him back.

Kyle is next, his hands settling on your waist as he pulls you in, his lips finding yours. “We do, because you’ve already given us 5, and we would never ask for more if it wasn't what you wanted.”

Simon is the last, he pulls you in, his large hands on your hips as he leans down, his forehead bumping yours as you share a breath there. “You sure this is what you want?” He asks softly, you can hear the others move about the kitchen. Kyle takes Hope to put her shoes on. John and Soap call up the stairs for the older children to get their backpacks as they slip their lunchboxes into them.

“I’m sure,” you smile, “I want this.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Simon presses a kiss to your mouth before he hugs you tight. You wrap your arms around him, leaning your head on his chest.

The sounds of footsteps running down the stairs pull you away, Isla, Kira, and Joseph file into the kitchen, their backpacks on, all dressed for school.

“We’re ready, can we all go to the bus stop this morning?” Joseph asks, looking between you and Simon.

“Sure bud, let me just put my shoes on,” you smile, you walk down the hall to grab your shoes and pull them on. The rest of your family waits, as you tie your sneakers. John holds Hope in his arms, Simon holds Theo’s hand, Johnny and Kyle head out the door first. The children followed. You fall in step in the middle of your group, it was warm today. Warmer than normal for this time of year, but you didn't mind it. Although the unusual warmth usually brought thunderstorms.

Those you weren’t too fond of.

As you approach the bus stop you see the normal group of parents waiting with their children. Maria stands next to her two older boys standing with a group of friends, Piper sits on the grass, her little head lifting as you all approach. She waves enthusiastically to Theo, and Theo pulls away from Simon. Running as fast as his little legs will carry him to his friend. They sit in the grass, building a stack of rocks to see who can get it higher.

Maria looks at you, a giant smile on her face as she sees your husband’s with you.

“I see they came back!” she exclaims, as you and the others stop a few steps from her.

“Pleasure to see you again Maria,” John hugs her.

“Glad you made it back,” she smiles, hugging each of them, even Simon who stiffly hugs her back.

“We’ll be around a lot more,” Johnny smiles, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into his side.

“Oh?” Maria looks at them.

“We’re stepping back, we have much more important things here,” John explains, and Maria nods.

“I’m glad you’ll be around more,” she eyes you suspiciously. “Are you still going to tell me I'm wrong?” She gives you a pointed look.

“Ma- y- how does everyone always know before me! It's my bloody body.” You grumble, and Soap laughs.

“We know what to look for,” Kyle kisses the side of your head.

“I just knew because even though you looked knackered, you still looked like you were glowing,” Maria laughs.

“Simon figured it out because of my coffee,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I'm happy for you, dear. If you need anything let me know. Although I wonder how you’ll fit another in that house of yours. You’re quickly outgrowing it,” Maria adds as the bus pulls up. The older children all race off to get onto it, and wave you as they all climb on.

“We haven't figured that much out yet,” you shrug, “I'm sure we’ll think of something.”

“I’m sure you will,” she hugs you. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you hug her back.

“C’mon Theo! Time to go,” Simon calls and the small boy hugs his friend before he races over.

You wave again to Maria and begin the walk back to the house, Hope having fallen asleep in John's arms. Her brown hair falling into her face as she sleeps peacefully. You look between the four men that walk with you.

“What are we going to do about the room… we don't have any more bedrooms.” You place your hand on your still flat stomach. How long did you have to prepare?

Where would you even put a baby?

Isla still had her own room, and sure you could move Theo into there, but he still wasn't a good sleeper and you didn't want to ruin her sleep by him waking up.

You could move the new baby into Hope's room with her but it might still cause problems with how frequently new babies wake up. She would be almost three and a half by the time the baby was going to be ready for their own room. And you certainly were going to need a bigger dining room table to be able to fit everyone.

“We can always move, we’ve talked about moving in the past. Wanting to get out into the countryside more. It would be a good time to buy right now anyways, interest rates are low. And I'm sure there’s something out in the rural parts that would be plenty big enough for us, and we can always add on. We don't really have enough land with the current house to add on, we’d be building too close to the neighbors.” John explains, as you get to the end of your driveway.

You stare at your house, you’ve been in it for 5 years, having moved in when you were pregnant with Isla, a month before she was due. The twins were still babies themselves. You loved the house, but it was too small for such a large family. With only 5 bedrooms, and 3 bathrooms it was becoming crowded. Your kitchen, although big enough for now, wasn't going to be able to accommodate everyone for much longer. And you always wanted a house with lots of land for the kids to play in. You had a decent sized yard now but it was nowhere near big enough for the swingset the kids kept asking for.

And it wasn't like it was a small house. It had almost 3000 sqft, but when you have 5 children and one (possibly 2) on the way. You needed something bigger. Something with room to grow.

“Okay, we’ll start looking at listings.”

“So we’re gonna move?” Simon confirms.

“We’re moving,”

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consextualjane · 4 months

Text

Ransom

Brandon jumped when his phone buzzed. His nerves were nearly fried from hours of worry, wondering where Alicia could be. Tuesdays were her yoga class days. She was usually home by seven, but it was going on midnight now.

He grabbed his phone. What he saw on the screen didn't make sense. A picture of Alicia, ball-gagged and on her knees in front of a mirror, was sent from an unknown number. The woman who had taken the picture was standing next to Alicia with her ass pressed against his girlfriend's face.

The message under the image was even more surreal: I picked up your dumb girlfriend at a yoga class. I told her I ran an advanced class from my home, and this idiot believed me. She's full of drugs and had a vibrator held to her clit for the last two hours. I doubt she even knows her name right now. If you want her back, wire five thousand dollars to the link in the next message. Or something worse will happen to her.

Brandon's phone buzzed again and the link appeared. His brain didn't register what was happening. Was this some kind of prank? Alicia had mentioned wanting to spice up their sex life. Was this her way? Or was it real?

What the fuck is this, he typed in response, not knowing what else to do. He waited for what seemed like several minutes before he received a response.

You have one minute.

Brandon's worry turned to anger. He wasn't going to indulge whatever game this was.

He typed another message: Go fuck yourself.

Suit yourself, came the response.

He tossed the phone on couch. She'd be home soon, once she realized he wasn't into whatever game this was. And then they would be having frank discussion about what he considered cheating. He flopped himself down on the couch and turned on the TV.

A few minutes of channel surfing went by before he looked back at his phone. Who was the other girl in that photo? Why was Alicia dressed like such a slut for her? Brandon picked up his phone and opened the photo again.

There was his girlfriend, on her knees and wearing a leather belt and collar lingerie. Since when did she act like that? The other woman's big ass was dominating Alicia's face. She almost looked like she was enjoying it. His cock stiffened.

He started to rub it through his pants, but then he stopped himself, throwing his phone down. He wasn't into this kinky stuff. And he didn't sign up to date a whore.

His eyes were drifting back to the TV when he felt his phone vibrate through the couch cushion. Was that her again? Reaching for the phone, he felt his heart rate quicken. When he looked at the screen he found text message with only a video.

A surge of images flashed through his mind. Was this woman actually doing things to his girlfriend? There was no way he could watch that video. He only hesitated for a moment before his thumb betrayed him and pressed play.

The video opened to a view of the woman's bedroom. The lights were off except for a neon glow coming from behind the camera, illuminating her empty bed. An eighties-style synth pop song started playing in the background as a women walked into the frame.

Only her bottom half was visible in the video, but Brandon could tell from her thong that it was the woman from the photo. She walked in front of the camera, showing off her wide hips. Brandon felt himself getting harder despite his disgust. He held the phone closer, and noticed a bulge in the front of the woman's thong.

She stood in front of the bed, swaying her hips for several seconds, before reaching into the front of her thong and pulling out one of the biggest cocks Brandon had ever seen, fully hard and girthy. It was nearly twice the size of his own.

She stroked the behemoth a few times. His mouth fell open as a thick bead of precum oozed out of the tip and dripped out of the frame. His own cock was about to burst through his pants. Without realizing what he was doing, he unzipped and pulled it out.

The woman on the video then walked out of view. The synthesizer-heavy song continued to hum ominously in the background. A second later Brandon saw his girlfriend climb on to the bed on all fours. A mix of horror and lust coursed through his cock as he watched the woman get on to the bed behind her. She pushed Alicia down into the mattress and pulled her hips up before giving her ass a hard slap. He heard his girlfriend moan over the music.

After another ass-slap, Alicia turned and looked directly at the camera. Brandon felt her looking at him. Her eyes were wide, full of fear, and lust, and something that almost seemed like an apology for what he was about to see.

Right on cue, the woman sank her massive, bare girl-cock into his girlfriend from behind. Alicia fell to the mattress, letting out an orgasmic cry just as the video cut out.

Brandon stared at the screen, his phone in one hand, his throbbing cock in the other. The shock of the video made his mind go blank. Before he could think of what to do next his phone buzzed with another message.

Send the money to see the rest.

#cheating

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faith-forgxtten-land · 6 months

Text

Come to Bed | Donatello

this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!

warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!

summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)

word count: 2411

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.

Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.

He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”

The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”

Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”

You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”

“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.

“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.

“I can explain.”

“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”

He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”

“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.

It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.

You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.

“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.”

Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”

You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”

“Well—”

“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”

“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.

You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.

“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.

“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”

Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you.

“Please,” he whimpers.

You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”

“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.

“Keep going.”

He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”

Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.

“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead.

“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”

He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”

“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.

His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”

Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.

“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”

He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.

You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”

He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.

Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.

“Please.”

As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.

You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.

The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.

Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.

A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.

“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”

“Please, what?”

His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”

You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”

There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling.

It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.

The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.

Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.

“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.

“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him.

You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully.

Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.

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cumikering · 15 days

Text

F1 John Price x reader 7 (end)

3.4k | fluff, suggestive John has been doing a lot of yoga (part 1)

“No, JP’s not charbroiled to oblivion,” you said with a laugh.

John had asked what had become of JP the bear as the lift shot up, streets under growing smaller by the second.

“Oh, good.” He breathed a relieved sigh. “I was going to be really sad.”

There was a ding before metal door slid open to reveal his penthouse. You stood in his open kitchen as he fixed you a drink, admiring the spotless marble countertops and the expanse of his living room. To the side, in front of the floor to ceiling windows, he’d set up his gym. He handed you your drink and gave you a tour of his home.

There’s a room for his racing simulator setup, next to it, a memorabilia room with his office in the corner. Shelves lined the walls displaying trophies, medals and awards along with a line of customised helmets and boots he’d acquired over the years. Lastly, the hall led to the master bedroom.

“The place is massive, John, and the view is gorgeous.” Your hands rested on the railing of the lengthy stretch of balcony, overlooking London at night.

“It’s too big. For one, at least.”

You bit down a smile.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head against yours. “You should come over as much as you can.”

You didn’t leave his apartment until when he drove to yours Sunday night. But when he helped you unlock your door, he decided he didn’t want to part yet and buried his face in your hair for another night.

As usual, he dropped you off for work before tending to his own routines. But this time, before noon, he had lunch delivered for you and your girls. On Tuesday morning, the familiar smell of coffee and cookies greeted him as he pushed the doors to your shop open.

“The boyfriend is here,” Sophie called out from the counter with a giggle.

Heat crept up his neck. He couldn’t hide now without his mask. What did you tell her?

“A bit flashy just to pick up cookies,” you teased as you strapped yourself in his McLaren.

“And my favourite woman.”

The engine roared to life before he zoomed away, taking you to the factory to finally meet his friends. When he told Kyle on the phone, he sounded so excited to see you again he sounded like he was going to puke as he listed off restaurants you could go for lunch.

“You told your girls about us?”

“Oh my God, please ignore that. Sophie was just teasing.”

“You can call me that, if you want.” He glanced at you, failing to hide his grin. “I’d like that very much in fact.”

You smiled to yourself. “Okay, papaya boy.”

At the next red light, the car behind him honked when he kissed you a little too long. John pulled away, but knowing him, the grin he wore only told you that it wasn’t long enough.

Of course, John would have preferred if he didn’t have to leave you, but having gained your full support, he flew to his next race in Japan with no weight on his chest.

The next day, he sent you a bouquet of your favourite flowers to the shop. You sent him a selfie with it, your smile as brilliant as ever.

Thank you for the lovely flowers <3

Only for my favourite x

Weeks flew by approaching summer. He’d got lunch delivered for you and your girls at least once a week. You displayed the beautiful flower arrangements he sent each time he was away next to register. He didn’t forget the postcards he promised, although he’d always be at your door before they arrived. You collected them in a small tin box.

You’d warned John about being clingy. If any, he felt he was the clingy one as he always looked forward to calling you at the end of the day to look at your pretty face, even if only on his phone. He wasn’t sure it helped curb the longing though, because he kept getting reminded of exactly what he left in London.

Especially the night before each race when he was jittery about the coming day. You’d stay up to be with him, only for your eyes to flutter as your cheek pressed against your pillow. It was a look you’d wear in another circumstance, one where he could be as loud as he wanted, groaning and panting into your ear, feeling all of you.

When the heat rose to his cheeks and his voice deepened a touch, you’d smile sweetly at him the glint in your eye unmistakeable, prompting his mind to drift further. As he palmed his pants, you’d show him where you needed his kisses, telling him how much you needed him. He’d try his best to bite back the noises that threatened to escape as his body shook at the sight that always made his head spin.

He’d drift to sleep with a grin on his face. Helps me relax, he’d said.

“John, you’ve been a lot calmer on the radio lately,” one of the interviewers said after the race.

“Yeah, been doing a lot of yoga,” he answered without missing a beat.

“In bed,” Kyle whispered behind him.

When John turned, he had taken off cackling.

His lips twitched into a smile. His teammate could run all he wanted, but he’d smack him upside the head later, as if they didn’t share the same bloody flight back.

“You know you don’t have to keep getting me flowers,” you said, arranging the bouquet he’d got from the airport in the vase. “Or sending me lunch so often.”

He draped his jacket on the back of the dining chair and looked up. ”You don’t like them?”

“I love them, but it’s just unnecessary. And… well I can’t return the same.”

“Oh, love. I never expected anything back.” He strode over, rubbing the small of your back. “I just enjoy… pampering you, like driving you around.”

“Thanks, John. I appreciate it, but please don’t feel like you have to. You’ve always been so thoughtful, but I’m just happy to see you.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him in for a kiss.

He always admired that about you: your independence and tenacity. As much as it made him proud, he, too, wanted to spoil you a little. You were his sweetheart after all, and he could never get enough of the smile on your face.

“You know, I was thinking. How do you feel about having my car while I’m away? Makes it easier for you to get around, yeah?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. My house keys will be there too, so you can go whenever.”

“You’re too good to me.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, head resting against his chest.

At the end of the week, with your consent, he posted a captionless photo of your joint hands – the very first public confirmation that there was someone. Within a minute, Kyle commented a full line of emojis: intense eyes, 100, confetti, fire, cookie and fist.

At this point John was convinced his teammate had his post notification on.

He’d also offered to stop wearing his mask in public if it bothered you, but since more customers recognised you as John Price’s woman, you too, stared wearing one.

When he’d cut his engine off, he turned to you as you pulled your mask on. “Are you going to keep wearing one?” He mirrored the action, covering his teasing smile.

“Maybe.”

“I love showing you off. Love when people look at how pretty your smile is.”

“But kisses are better when they’re stolen,” you said, your voice teasing.

He didn’t disagree. You didn’t mind the kisses that followed in that deserted parking lot. Dinner could wait.

John meant it that he loved showing you off. Of course he’d invited you to come to his races, but with your commitments in London, understandably, you’d turned down the trips halfway across the world, including the Canadian GP. He had been looking forward to taking you there very much since the first time you mentioned wanting to go.

But it’d been months now since he laid all his cards on the table, and you’d accepted what life could look like if you were to be with him. While he didn’t push, you also said no to weekend trips to his European races. He wasn’t entitled to you attending them, of course, and knowing the paparazzi, it was a huge ask to take you out of your private life. But admittedly he wanted people to know who his heart belonged to, that it was never anything short of serious with you.

Later in bed as he lay facing you, his fingers trailed down your arm.

“At least… Would you consider Silverstone? My parents go each year. It’s quite special to us, you know, home race and all-“ His eyes flicked to yours before he quickly added, “Unless you’re not ready. There are other races-”

You smiled. “John, are you asking me to meet your parents?”

He averted his gaze as heat crept up his neck. You’d joined in on the brief video calls with his parents, but meeting them was something else entirely. Was it too much to ask?

“Yes,” he muttered. “My mum’s been wanting to meet you.”

“I’d love to.”

“You’ll be my lucky charm?” He grinned, pulling you in by the waist. “At my home race? I’ll make you proud, love.”

John Price secured a win in Silverstone, making it his second consecutive home victory. Still with his bright orange helmet on, he sprinted to you on the sidelines. He crushed you in his embrace and lifted you off the ground before giving you a spin. The next second, Kyle and Simon joined in on the hug, the crowd cheering all around them.

He didn’t know he could get any happier, but seeing you next to his parents, beaming up at him on the podium made the butterflies stir. Today was more than just you being at his home race, but also the day you declared publicly you were his someone, and he was enjoying every second being yours.

You still had your pretty smile when he got off the podium, and with his cap and suit still dripping in sprayed champagne, in front of all the cameras, he pulled you into a kiss. The movement knocked the cap off your head, the same papaya one he gave you all those months ago. You laughed as you wiggled in his arms, a futile attempt of getting out of his drenched embrace.

When he finally pulled away, he looked you over, your front soaked now. You smiled up at him and cupped his cheek, making his heart flutter.

Could he have this with you forever? Could he have his career and a normal life with you after all? He would certainly die trying.

At the end of the night, Kate relayed that he was invited to a photoshoot in Liverpool. When John thought out loud that he might as well send his parents back home and spend some time there too, you said you could take a few days off. He grinned. He’d always wanted to show you where he grew up.

John took you on a ride around his hometown. He showed you his old school, the field he used to play football in with his friends and the karting track where it all started all those years ago. For dinner, he took you to the neighbourhood park where his favourite kebab shop was.

The next day, John left for the shoot after breakfast. At the door, he gave you a peck on your forehead before hopping into a taxi.

“I hope everything is to your liking, love,” Mrs. Price said as she plopped teabags into the pot. “The room isn’t too small, is it?”

“No, of course not. Everything is fine.” You smiled.

“Oh, good. I just wanted to make sure you have a good time here.”

“I promise everything is perfectly fine, Mrs. Price. You have a beautiful home.”

“Please call me Eleanor.” She patted your arm. “You’re family.”

Your gazed dropped as you tried to hide your smile. His parents had always been welcoming, but hearing that from his mum made you melt. You knew how important family was to John.

Perhaps you’d been overly guarded, that you didn’t want to go to any of his races and have your relationship exposed, not wanting to be accused of having any ill-intentions with him. But most importantly, you didn’t want his parents to.

Evidently, your worries had all been worries. You spent the rest of the morning chatting with her over tea before she tended to her colourful, blooming garden.

Footsteps and cooing came from outside before the front door swung open.

“I got his favourite blueberry loaf,” the guest said as she and Eleanor rounded the corner.

“Thank you so much. You’re too kind.” She placed the gift on the table. “Love, this is Claudia. John and her grew up together. And this is John’s girlfriend.”

You smiled. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“I’ll get an extra cup.” Eleanor turned to the kitchen.

“New girlfriend, huh?” The brunette looked you over with a sneer. “Can never keep track, he has a different one every time I see him.”

Your brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Was expecting him to call. He usually would for some late night-fun.” She laughed. “Can’t forget his first time, I guess.”

Your fists balled under the table.

“Don’t take it personally when he ditches you, sweetheart. You know he can’t commit.”

Eleanor placed a teacup and a plate of your cookies on the table. “Claudia, these are from her shop. They’re lovely, please do try.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll go now.” She smiled, not even sparing you another glance. “I’ll drop by again some other time.”

“Oh, alright, love.” Eleanor walked her to the door. “Please say hi to your mum. I haven’t seen her in forever.”

Your stomach churned. You shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. You didn’t know who the woman was nor her past with John, but judging by how friendly she was with his mum, they must have had history. You trusted John - he had been nothing less than transparent since the day you decided to make it work, but her words rubbed you the wrong way nonetheless. They made your skin crawl. The exchange only reminded you that you and John came from two different worlds.

When his mum returned to the table, you tried to not let your voice crack when you excused yourself for a stroll in the neighbourhood.

John arrived home sooner than he expected, but much to his disappointment, you weren’t there. She went to the park a few hours ago, his mum said. He called you to offer to pick you up, but you said you’d walk home.

He opened the door for you and kissed your cheek before leading you to the dining table.

“Oh, Claudia dropped by and gave you a blueberry loaf,” his mum said at dinner.

His fork froze mid-air. “Who?”

“Claudia, Charlotte’s girl.”

“What, again? How did she even know I’m here?”

“Her mum saw, probably.”

He pursed his lips. “Right, okay. Well, thanks, but please tell her she really doesn’t have to.”

You and John helped to clean up after dinner, but you were quiet and wouldn’t look into his eyes. Wouldn’t even smile when he wrapped his arms around you.

Had he done something?

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” he asked carefully when you were in the privacy of his room. “Talk to me. Do you… not like the place? It’s not too late to get a hotel-“

The last woman he brought home over three years ago was the same one who threw a fit about the house being too small for her liking and demanded a room at a luxury hotel.

You turned to him. “What? No, John, it’s not that.” You sighed. “Who’s Claudia? Do you have- did you use to date her?”

“No. She lived down the street. Why?”

“She said you bring someone new every time you’re home.”

His brows furrowed. “That’s not true.”

You hung your head. “She said you call her when you’re back. For fun. That you can’t forget your first time.”

“First time?!” His face twisted. “Fucking hell this woman. I don’t even-“ he sighed. “Before I moved to London, I told her I had a crush on her, but she called me fat and made fun of me in front of everyone at school. We never spoke again until my parents moved back here.

“She said she wanted to catch up, and summer last year I finally gave in. Thought there was no harm because well, kids do silly things and my mum’s friends with hers – well, were. I took her to a chippy and she got so upset. She said my mum raised a cheap bastard and left, so I don’t know why the bloody hell she keeps showing up.”

You blinked. “And your mum knows?”

“I never told her. I didn’t want to ruin her friendship with Charlotte.” He pursed his lips. “You know what, what she said to you is out of line. Fuck that, they’re not friends anymore anyway.”

Before you could say anything, he marched out and into his parents’ room. His mum was at the vanity combing her shoulder length hair, smiling at him from the mirror.

“Mum, I don’t want Claudia dropping by anymore. Tell her to piss off next time she shows up.”

She lowered her comb with a frown.

“You remember when you told me to take her for lunch last year? We went to a chippy and she said you raised a cheapskate who didn’t know how to treat a woman right.”

His mum gasped, turning to him. “How dare she! I always thought she was a nice girl. Is that why Charlotte stopped talking to me?”

“Probably, judging by the lies she told her this afternoon. Said I always bring someone new when I come home, that I call her at night-”

She slammed her comb down and strode to her phone on the nightstand. “I’m going to tell Charlotte and her scheming cow of a daughter to go to hell.”

When he returned to his room, you had your hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh. He closed the door behind him.

“Oh my God, John. Scheming cow?”

“Nobody messes with my sweetheart.” He grinned, sitting next to you on the bed before reaching for your hand. “But most importantly, no one fucks with my mum.”

“Go Eleanor.”

In the Canadian sun, the cerulean water glittered. Under the infinite blue sky, the clear lake stretched far and wide along the rocky mountains in the distance.

“The view is amazing, John. It’s so perfect it looks fake.” You huffed, but the grin remained as you caught your breath at the top of the hiking trail where the wind toyed with your hair.

He tucked back the loose strands behind your ear. “I’m more than happy to be sharing this with you.”

You turned and pressed your lips against his before a dog barked far off. You turned to the man with the large yellow Labrador.

He cupped your face, turning you back to him with an amused smile. “I mean it, if you want a dog, feel free.”

That morning, you’d cooed at each and every one of the Newfoundland puppy you met at the breeder. He was convinced you were going to take home the litter in your backpack.

You shook your head. “You know my place doesn’t allow pets.”

“Mine does.” He kissed your cheek. “I’d love a dog, with you.”

“Who’s going to take care of it when you’re away?”

“Can it be your reason to finally move in?” he asked hopefully. “You know I always love having you over.”

You smiled. “That’s a very tempting offer.”

“You can say no, of course. I wanted to let you know it’s something I want with you, so whenever you’re ready. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for you.”

You took a seat overlooking the lake and rested your head against his, his fingers laced with yours. He let out a content exhale as he soaked up the view, savouring your presence. He kissed the top of your head.

Later, you took out the thermos from your backpack and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

“Sweetheart, remember when you made my double shot americano? I couldn’t sleep for two bloody days.”

You laughed.

“Well, I’m really glad I went.”

“Me too, Jean-Pierre. Me too.”

Masterlist

Hi hello, thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed the story bc I loved imagining Price in orange while writing :D I was wondering a lot of you are into F1 too? If yes, who’s your fave driver?

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @its-me-mila @msluccapotato

@s-rinaldi-18 @izzybmep @the-darling-fishy @rowanyaboats @dirtymana

@gamergirlbones @hungrycrazy @wannabhere @princessdaniiiii @freshlemontea

@eve-lie @two-autumns @nocturnalreader106 @sklt987659 @fruitymoonbeams-blog

@praying-for-the-sun @shinymriver @redzscare @dwaekkiiiiiiiiiiai

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