KNIVES OUT, WE'RE GOING DOWN

Oh how you absolutely hated busy evenings, having to juggle making a big dinner and taking care of your child and yourself–It just wasn’t easy. You were too tired to do anything, you just wanted to scream at Leland to fuck off and order chinese while you slept like a brown bear stuck in winter hibernation. Postpartum was a bitch. You were so pent up with stress and anger yet couldn’t just take a dildo or your fingers and fuck it out, or even bounce on your husband’s thick cock till he was grasping onto your ass with pleas of slowing down. You had a baby and a responsibility now, and plus you were still healing. The doctor heavily advised zero insertion until you completely heal up. 

I fucking hate this shit. You thought to yourself, keeping a watchful eye on your infant daughter who was babbling in her small play pen in the kitchen you set up, thick fuzzy blankets covering the cold tile to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt while playing with her toys. You normally would have had her strapped to yourself to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble, yes the house was baby proofed but even baby proofing never seemed to be enough. Hell a house made out of bubble wrap would be a hazard to a baby. 

However tonight you were making Leland’s favorite dish, fried hot honey chicken with a side of seasoned fries. And you didn’t want any of the boiling oil to splash on her delicate skin, hence the play pen. You sighed to yourself, opening the container of raw chicken that was in a pickle brine to help season and elevate the flavors of the seasonings, you had already pre-washed and pre-prepped it this morning after Leland said; ‘’What abominations of christian behaviors I would violate for some decent fried chicken I’d hate to contemplate.’’ while getting ready for work this morning.

So you decided to surprise him, not because he bitched at you for ‘’being a lazy cow! Jus’ layin’ on your ass lettin’ that baby suck on her udders.’’ Your hands gripped the container harder as anger flowed through your veins, you could definitely see why the women at the bar said he was a real piece of work. Leland did the bare minimum sometimes, and it just made you want to stick a knife into his stupid skull.

But you digress, that comment was a weak old. Yet it still bothered you deeply, it had a double meaning. And you didn’t like that, you let out a huff as you dipped the chicken drumsticks into the wet binder before rolling them and generously coating them with the seasoned flour mixture, ever since you married Coyle his heat tolerance has heavily increased, before he couldn’t handle paprika or chilli powder, sometimes you wondered if he just ate straight MRE’S before you came into his life. 

He always mentioned how his ex-wives couldn’t ‘’cook for shit’’, he was mean but he loved your cooking. He always bragged about how good of a chef you were and how his ex-wives didn’t even fucking know the difference between salt and pepper sometimes, and how his last wife somehow burnt water and ruined an antique dutch oven his grandma left him before she died. But before you could think anymore thoughts, your ear twitched at the sound of the front door being unlocked, heavy footsteps on the polished oak flooring as you heard his keys drop into the key dish and his footsteps coming closer. 

‘’You finally off yer ass?’’ He meanly teased with a stupid wolvish smile he gave you, how you just wanted to take this boiling oil and throw it at him. Take that stupid smile off his face and make it into pure terror–

‘’M’ not in the mood.’’ You bitterly said, keeping your back turned as you dropped the seasoned drumsticks into the oil. The hot oil crackling to life and popping, effectively cooking the chicken. You heard his hat and sunglasses hit the table as he walked over to the play pen and cooed at his daughter, leaning down and picking the infant up. Pressing sweet smooches all over her chubby cheeks. ‘’Whatchu’ feedin’ her? She’s gettin’ chubby.’’ He said in a half serious-half joking tone as he threw your daughter in the air a few times as she giggled and babbled incoherent noises at him.

‘’Well she isn’t on formula yet, the pediatrician said to wait until I start bottle feeding.’’ You distantly replied. Not in the mood for his attitude nor games, ‘’Ah, so jus’ your titty milk. Shit if I knew you could make our daughter a chubby bunny in just two months I’d be drinkin’ from you too to get my bulk up.’’ You honestly couldn’t tell if he was proposing something or just being a dick. ‘’How was your day?’’ you bitterly asked, not interested in the slightest. He could tell something was wrong with you but chose not to interrogate. For his safety of course.. Last week you went all mama bear on him and almost broke his arm for making a stupid comment on your pregnancy weight because you couldn’t fit into one of your favorite shirts.

‘’Fuckin’ shit.’’ He growled, sitting down in his chair as he coddled your infant daughter. Holding her tight to ensure she wouldn’t fall and crack her little skull open. ‘’Pulled some stupid ass redneck over who was goin’ 90 in a fuckin’ 45. He started claimin’ he needed his glasses, and he didn’t see the speed limit sign. It’s a goddamn big rectangle with big bold letters for a reason.’’ He rolled his eyes at recalling the memory, the man had a lot of sass to him.. Claiming this was a ‘’free country’’ and these were god's roads and he could do whatever he pleased, so Coyle reacted accordingly.. And dragged the man out of his truck and detained him while he beat the man to death with his own brass knuckles Coyle found in his glovebox. 

Thankfully they were close to the bayou so Coyle just sank his truck and body in it to make it look like the man was drunk driving and crashed, to further prove his point if the man was ever found he unscrewed his license plate off and took it as ‘’evidence’’ to say ‘’oh yeah.. well the man was also in trouble with the DMV for not having a license plate on his vehicle!’’ He’s killed enough people to know how to get away with it. As Coyle ranted and rambled about random things about his day you barely listened, just finishing up cooking dinner.

‘’Jesus H. Christ baby this tastes so fuckin’ good.’’ Coyle complimented with a moan, devouring the fried chicken smothered in hot honey sauce. Moaning about how the chives and seasonings came together to make a savory but sweet meal, ‘’Thank you.’’ you hummed out with appreciation watching your husband revert to his primal instincts and scarf down the meal you provided him. Your daughter already had dinner and was back in her play pen as you two ate. ‘’Fuck, I wish you weren’t still in healin’ because this is me pounding you into next month worthy.’’ He groaned, practically almost done with his plate, thank god you made a lot because he was runnin’ back and forth refilling his plate and eating it. ‘’I wanna eat chu out so goddamn bad right now.’’ He hissed, staring at you with pure lust, admiration, and love.

‘’Stop it, you're making me upset I gotta wait till M’ healed to do anything.’’ You said with a pouty huff as you finished your plate as you got up and felt his hand snap to your wrist, giving you the dumbest puppy eyes he could ever physically muster.

–

‘’A–Aah, fuck! Yer hands are so goddamn soft–’’ Leland moaned obscenely, almost like a male porn star as your soft hands jerked off his angry throbbing cock. You barely got the dishes done before you rushed upstairs and got your daughter put in her crib before you came back downstairs to jerk your husband off as he slouched against the couch. Uniformed thighs spread apart as his stomach caved and quivered as his cock twitched and dribbled out a pathetic amount of pre-cum all over his happy trail. ‘’You’ve been so mean to me.’’ You teased, dragging your hand all the way up to his tip and tightly squeezing, feeling how his pre-cum spurted in your palm and his body jolted. Hips pathetically bucking up for more as a groan escaped him.

‘’N,Nuh uh.. You’ve been sittin’ around–hhhgh–Like a goddamn sloth since we left the hospital–I’ve been doin’ everything!’’ He barely argued back, letting out a yelp as the tip of your finger meanly rubbed his leaky slit, smearing more pre all over his almost white tip as his hands dug into the couch.

‘’You’ve been barely doing anything! You haven’t even cooked a meal for yourself or me, the only things you do is sometimes help out with our daughter and that’s only on your terms.’’ You hissed, removing your hands completely just to focus on teasing his slit as he whimpered. ‘’N,Nooo.. Don’t tease–’’ He sobbed out pitifully as his hips shot up to chase your hands. His hand left the couch to try and stroke himself but you smacked it away. ‘’No touching or I won’t let you come period.’’

‘’M–M’ sorry.. Real sorry–I’ll–’’ ‘’You’ll what? Start helping me or bitch and moan about every little thing that doesn’t go your way?’’ You said with a roll of your eyes, ‘’N–Noo! N,Noaugh.. nooo.. I’ll help out–N’ stop bitchin’ pplleeaseee…’’ He sobbed out, rolling his head down so you could see his utterly pitiful expression, how slobbery his mouth was and how teary eyed he got. 

‘’Promise?’’ You said, smiling internally that you were ensnaring your husband to start helping out. You knew he was cussing you out in his skull. ‘’Promise! I, I promis–FUCK!’’ He whined out as both your hands returned into vigorously jerking him off at an insane pace, his hips instantly bucking and squirming like a bitch in heat as he leaned forward and fell onto you. Burying his face into your fat tits, moaning about how he wanted to suck them so bad and how jealous he was of your milk pumper and how he wanted to fulfill the role so your ‘’sweet milk’’ wouldn’t go to waste as he drooled all over your cleavage. ‘’G,god.. I jus’ wanna keep you like this all the time.. All big and pudgy n’ swollen–You look so hot all the time..’’ He whimpered as you cooed at him, continuing to jerk him off at an insane pace, hands squeezing tightly almost painfully around his stupidly big cock but he ate it up. ‘’P,Please… Can we have more babies? I–I wanna knock my litter into yooouuu..’’ He sobbed out, big nose buried against your cleavage as his eyes fluttered shut messily, his noises getting more high pitched and urgent as the wet smacking noises got louder.

‘’So sweet to me.. Are you a sweet boy, Leland?’’ You crooned, pressing kisses all over the side of his head. Messing with his messy black hair. ‘’U–Uh huh! Y,yes… Only for you babygirll..’’ He grunted, biting down on his teeth as little whiny gasps escaped him as he spurted cum all over himself and your shirt, letting out a long violent groan as he did. You gasped at the sensation of feeling his hot load land on your bare thick thighs and shirt, making a mess of his uniform, you, and the couch. Knowing he’s going to have to make every excuse in the book at the dry cleaners on why he had stains all over his pants. 

You felt him go limp in your arms as you pumped him through the aftershocks. Feeling his once painfully hard cock go soft as you tucked it back into his messy wet boxers, licking off your hands and moaning about how he tasted against your skin before drying your hands off on a dry portion on your shirt and cuddling him as he panted and let out soft whines as he quivered and twitched from the aftershocks.

bright eyed and bushy tailed.

thats the description you couldnt quite shake. it was a compliment, you supposed, but it felt demeaning in some way. being young nurse fresh out of med school, you didnt expect to be taken seriously, thats why when you got the opportunity work in this experimental facility you practically jumped at the opportunity.

growing up and hearing stories of all these incredible nurses being heaven sent during the war filled you with passion, with drive. while the sinyala facility didnt quite fill you with heroism, it was something, and it was a job.

the briefing was almost disturbingly intense, long and gruesome but you managed to convince yourself it was simply a precaution. the slightly older, almost dead-eyed nurse who introduced herself as Nurse Barlow showed you to your room and locker before handing you a clipboard and a key to the store room which help all the medication, first aid and any other medical equipment you could ever need.

“youve only got one patient tonight, one of our senior nurses is retiring soon as planned. Doctor Easterman factored in a single-patient shifts for the nurse taking over for her”

you nod, making a small hum in understanding. the blonde nurse gave you a tight, almost sympathetic smile before gracefully stepping out of the room. exhaling deeply, you lower your gaze down to the clipboard, filled with names of patients along with their corresponding medical needs for each night. one particular name was circled in red ink.

‘Leland Coyle’

pushing the medical cart out of the pharmacy, you start the surprisingly short walk to the prime asset medical bay. you knock gently on the pristine, almost too-white door.

“mister coyle? may i come in?”

you hear a low grunt of acknowledgment and you take that as permission. you push open the heavy door slowly before guiding the cart inside. leland isn’t looking at you, hes got his glasses covered eyes trained some poster as he reclines in the medical bed.

“alright, you may need to be patient with me as its my first day but i think—“

a low wolf-whistle cuts you off.

“well look at you.. sendin’ me the fresh meat huh? i gotta say.. i think we’re gonna get along muuuch better than that old bitch they had lookin’ after me before.”

he drawls with an obnoxious chuckle.

you huff out breath of air and force a polite smile.

“what seems to be bothering you today? its says here you were complaining of lacerations to your face, is that correct?”

leland scoffs before answering.

“well fuckin’ look at me, those little commie shits threw bottle at me! which is assault against an officer i might add.”

he recounts with increasing volume and anger. you paw through some of the medications nurse barlow had instructed you to pick up. these were all.. pretty heavy duty, but you supposed everything is in this place. the shuttle ride into the facility had been like stepping into another world.

you slide open the top drawer of the trolley and pluck out two morphine sulfate pills and handing them to leland along with a paper cup of water. he gulps them down with a groan.

“may i take a closer look at the cuts?”

“you can get as close as you want honey”

his answer makes your jaw tick. how women can be so pestered in one of the only fields they dominate never fails to amaze you.

but, you swallow the insult that had been rising up your throat and bend down slightly to get a better look, placing a hand on his jaw to tilt his head from side to side gently.

at this distance, you could smell the tobacco and blood seemingly radiating off of him. it makes you suppress a grimace.

the cuts werent too bad, definitely not deep enough to require stitches. they had already been cleaned by an on-site nurse and they didn’t look too inflamed.

“the cuts seem alright, just try to keep them as clean as you can for the next little while. if you notice them becoming hot or increasingly painful, please let somebody know.”

“hell, if gettin’ these infected is gonna let me come and see that sweet ass of yours i might have a roll around in the mud.”

he cackles, finding himself far too amusing. but, of course, you chuckle along dryly. something you had learnt to do when talking to these kinds of men.

“its a real shame y’know, pretty young things like you havin’ to work when y’all could be home taking care of… womans duties.”

womans duties my ass, you internally scoff.

“i find this kind of work much more fulfilling, much like you with your police work.”

“‘scuse me? listen sweetheart.. cute as you playin’ doctor is—it aint nothin’ compared to me enforcing the law.”

he chuckles condescendingly and you nod along, kicking the brakes off of the trolley. coyle stands up, hand immediately diving into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette before lighting it. he ‘accidentally’ blows a plume of smoke into your face as he steps out of the infirmary, two guards immediately escorting him to his sleep room.

you let out a shudder, rubbing your temples. these types of patients were inevitable but none the less painful.

so when you walk back into the staff room and glance at the timetable, your heart dropping when you see your name marked next to each appointment with Leland Coyle.

SIGH okay first fic i’ve written in years and i lowkey feel like its a whole load of nothing BUT i needed to start somewhere and i wanna continue this as a slow burn 😋😋