Thinking about 𝓢oldier 𝓑oy making you cum so hard until you end up crying into his sheets, completely wrecked and sobbing out for him to slow down, just for him to pin your hands down against the mattress and call you a “fuckin’ crybaby” as he continues to brutally pound your insides. All because it turns him on so fucking much to have a stupid brainless girl, who can’t fight against him or his viciously deep thrusts, crying on his cock again after all these years.
i want to live in between soldier boy's tits. im gonna set up camp in the valley of his manbreasts and take shelter there. whenever he sweats, it rains gold. please let me live between ur boobs ben.
𝜗୧ ⸝⸝ Thinking about sexually repressed 𝓕irecracker who sneaks into your Vought tower suite to find relief from the stress of working under Homelander. ( 18+ )
“He’s so fuckin’ mean. He was such a jerk today,” she mutters into your swollen mouth, riding your thigh with vigour, her own knee pressing up against your pebbled clit.
You lazily nod along to her words, grinding your bare cunt against the soft pale skin of her thigh, searching for the same friction she’s eagerly seeking out against your leg.
A low whine tumbles out of her mouth—her red lipstick messy and smudged down onto her chin—as you rub harder against her, tugging her head back by her hair.
Lowering her face beneath yours, your gaze peruses down over her soured expression. “You’re not much better, y’know? Running around, chasing after that maniac like some sad neglected puppy.”
Firecracker groans, half-heartedly protesting while her face scrunches in pleasure, despite your words. Her teeth nip up at your lower lip, and she whispers, “Don’t call ‘im that. What happens when he blasts through that door and guts you for speakin’ about him that way, hm?”
“Well, I guess you’d lose your little stress toy, wouldn’t you?” you breathe out superciliously, the corners of your mouth curling up into a knowing smirk, watching her face twitch—the same way it always does when you press into that open wound. “It’s too bad… ‘cause you need me. You pretend you hate this, but you need it. I know you do. You always keep coming back to me… to this. For this.”
She tries to scoff, as if your words hold no truth, but the way her body arches into yours says it all. She does need you. You’re the only thing keeping her sane in this artificial hellscape, even if it’s too painful for her to admit.
“Shut up,” she finally murmurs, almost begging as her hips roll against yours again. Her mouth falls into a petulant frown, her cerulean eyes forlorn and rounded in need, searching between yours. “Just fuck me with your fingers already. I’ll be good, I promise. Whatever you want from me. Just need to distress and I’ll be good again, I swear it.”
Era: I didn't have a specific era within mind whilst writing this.
Summary: You and Coyle work together during a trial, a trial where he acts as the police canine and you are his handler. You decide to reward him for such good work.
You were really unsure as to what Dr. Easterman had been thinking. He was a professional, a scientist, a doctor for Christ's sake. You wondered if he really was just stupid. Or, you considered the possibility that there was some sort of concealed motivation behind his rather foolish actions. Sure, the reagents were being both studied and experimented upon. But the prime assets were as well.
Eventually, you finally decided that the entire situation was just a part of his scheme, that he was simply expanding his researching, and surely he wasn't an idiot. Obviously not.
You were rather shocked when Dr. Easterman suggested that you and Coyle were to work alongside one another, to collaborate for a trial or two. At first, you were extremely confused. The doctor wasn't the type to simply give in to people's desires, to basically reward his little subjects. I mean, he was practically playing with fire with such a proposal.
When you had originally met, both you and Leland were swift to create some sort of relationship together, a dynamic that wasn't one you would consider boyfriend and girlfriend, but something relatively adjacent.
What started off as stupid arguments or silly disagreements, had soon evolved into full blow fights. Coyle had regarded you as both weak and frail, simply because you were a woman. However, you were a prime asset for a reason, and you certainly were not the type to reject a challenge.
The two of you would often become physically violent towards one another, throwing fists and attacking each other. However, during one fight within specific, things had taken a much different direction.
You had somehow managed to shove the officer to the ground, standing above him as you considered your next move. Whilst Leland was attempting to control his spiraling vision and regain his composure, you had eventually brought your foot up to his chest. You decided to repeatedly stomp upon his stomach, in an attempt to somehow harm or injure him. Maybe break a rib or cause him to cough up blood. However, when you had landed a rather unfortunate blow, a stomp much lower than you had originally intended, you were extremely surprised by Leland's rather abnormal reaction.
The cop did not cry out in pain or curl in upon himself, as a result of your heel colliding against his crotch. Leland did not release a shout of agony or become enraged in response. Instead, Coyle had rewarded you with somewhat of a mewl, a little squeak somewhere in between a moan and soft whine.
At first, you had been shocked, quick to retract your foot and gaze down towards the cop with a rather astonished, yet slightly disgusted, expression. However, when the officers vision connected with your own, his irises rather awkward and a flustered blush etched across his features, a devious little smirk quickly adorned your features.
He was not angry or upset. No. Instead, Leland was ashamed.
He liked it.
And things had only escalated from there.
At first, your relationship had been strictly physical, your interactions often originating with some sort of fight, whether that be verbal or visceral. However, after a bit of screaming or punching, eventually, things would become a lot more intimate. It was as if Leland was searching for such interactions, often appearing within your own, personal room, in order to instigate you or initiate some sort of argument.
And you soon learned a rather interesting fact about Coyle: He was not the dominant or commanding type within bed. No. Instead, he was rather submissive, allowing you to degrade, tease, and even slap him. You supposed that after a long day of acting all tough and strong in front of others, the officer preferred a little reprimanding.
Due to such a relationship, the two of you had developed a rather interesting dynamic when interacting with reagents together. Whilst positioned by your side, Coyle would morph from his typically dominant and assertive reputation, before transforming into a rather submissive version of himself. It was as if he was attending the police academy all over again. The officer often behaved as if he was still within training whenever you were nearby, like you were his sergeant and he was the little apprentice desperate to learn.
Maybe that had been the reason: Dr. Easterman and the other scientist had observed the strange transformation within Leland Coyle, specifically whenever you were present, and they were desperate to decipher the rather odd phycology behind his unnatural habits.
Typically, the officer was a confident and aggressive individual, completely unruly and always operating under his own decisions. Leland was never easy to control. However, as soon as you would appear along side him, the cop was suddenly desperate to receive any sort of command or instructions from your lips. It was as if, after all of this time, Coyle had finally encountered his master, someone who was capable of properly training him.
When Dr. Easterman originally suggested a trail with both you and Coyle as the main enemies, you were a bit confused. This was rather unlike the doctor, simply giving into the desires of others. You had previously expected that he would have distanced you and Leland as far away from each other as possible, to bring a conclusion to your rather inappropriate relationship.
Yet, as Dr. Easterman further explained such an idea, stating that Coyle would act as some sort of police canine, and you would be required to command him like he was a guard dog, it suddenly all made sense.
At first, Leland immensely opposed such an idea, stating that he would not become a "submissive little bitch" for someone else to both use and abuse. The officer was scarlet in the face as he screamed at Dr. Easterman, declaring that he would not allow such stupid pretend play to assault his own dignity. "Would you like for me to wear a tail and a collar as well, sir?" Coyle had further stated, practically spitting venom as he yelled at the doctor.
But Dr. Easterman had dismissed Leland's objections, simply stating that "it would be done" and Coyle would "learn to enjoy it." Which only managed to further infuriated the officer.
The trial was located within a bank setting. Reagents would be instructed to break into the vault and collect the money, in order to "rebel against corporate America and revolt against the government." During this mission, you were provided with a police uniform, one that was extremely similar to Coyle's, but lacking his signature stun baton and the upgraded car battery strewn across his back. And of course, the officer was not expected to support a pair of dog ears or a tail, but the thought was rather entertaining. Maybe it was something you would attempt to persuade Dr. Easterman into within the future.
As soon as the two of you executed your very first trial together, titled "Invade the Bank," it was obvious that Lelands prior claims (stating that he drew the line at pretending to be a dog for a woman, of all people, to order around), were obviously a lie.
You were expected to act as some sort of literal narc, raising your voice and calling out to Coyle whenever you detected one of the reagents. You were supplied with a pair of night vision goggles and instructed to scour the expanse of fake bank, and as soon as you discovered one of the enemies sneaking around, whether they were crawling through the darkness or simply traipsing within the open, you would swiftly yell out for Leland.
Once you had perceived one of the reagents, you were instructed to avoid personally attacking them yourself. Instead, you were required to "allow Coyle to deal with it." Therefore, as soon as you had detected one of the reagents crawling through the darkness, you would call the officer's name, hollering something along the lines of "Leland!" Or "I found one!" To which the cop would instantly dismiss whatever he was currently preoccupied with, in order to swiftly come to your aid.
Coyle would follow the direction of your voice, storming towards your location as if he truly had been transformed into some type of trained police dog, determined to both protect and defend his handler. The officer would scramble after your voice, often declaring something along the lines of "Officer responding," before he would eventually arrive by your side and swiftly begin to attack his victim. However, rather than tearing into his target with the usage of his own mouth, as police dogs tend to do, Coyle would instead utilize his stun baton, beating each victim until they were properly decommissioned.
The trial had been advertised as some sort of special police canine experience, with you acting as the handling officer and Leland assuming the role of the dog. It was a rather interesting mission, the only situation in which two prime assets were allowed to work together, besides from the occasional prime time event.
Things often went as planned, with you acting as a simple scavenger, a docile prime asset that would never actually attack her victims, while Leland handled the much more violent aspects. It was never your intent to harm any of the reagents. In fact, you were specifically instructed against it. Instead, you were ordered to simply search for enemies, acting as some sort of live security system, and to call out to Leland whenever you had successfully discovered one of the reagents.
Sometimes, you and Coyle would emerge victorious, eliminating all of the participants until only the two of you remained, along with the ex-pops. However, other times, the reagents would become victorious, successfully completing the trial and managing to escape with their lives. But thats just how things went. It was all apart of the therapy.
Instead of reacting with the chuck of a brick or the toss of a bottle towards you, reagents were prone to fleeing the scene. You would not hurt them, they were certainly aware of such a reality, you were simply some sort of alarm. Therefore, they often ran and hid before Leland had successfully arrived, the individual who would certainly attack them.
However, during one specific trial, things hadn't gone as planned.
You were traipsing through the darkness whilst you searched for the participants, attempting to remain light upon your feet, in order to avoid the detection of any nearby reagents. You peeked into abandoned lockers, searched beneath desks, and gazed into the depth of empty barrels, until you eventually spotted one of the enemies. The reagent was crouched within the corner as they fiddled with the generator, attempting to remain concealed within the darkness and go undetected by Leland. However, they appeared unaware of the night vision goggles you had been supplied with. Within this situation, the darkness would be of no assistance to them.
However, you had been rather uninformed of the other individual's presence. The second reagent who had been situated by the doorway, tasked solely with the responsibility of watching for any nearby threats.
Therefore, when you pushed through the doorway, prepared to call out for Leland and alert him of the nearby enemy, you were only able to successfully release a simple "Co!-" before your were promptly interrupted.
As soon as your lips parted and the words began to tumble from your mouth, you swiftly encountered a bottle to the chest. The second reagent, the individual situated behind the door, had successfully managed to attack you. The glass shattered against your figure, causing a grunt of surprise and a gasp of pain to slip from your lips.
You had been completely unprepared for such a situation, never once encountering any form of resilience from any of the previous reagents. You were often regarded as some sort of set up, such as sound traps or damage traps, a decoy to simply avoid, rather than attack. However, this specific set of reagents had reacted differently, attempting to incapacitate you, rather than simply hide.
You instantly stumbled to your knees, not accustomed to being upon the receiving end of such violence (that was Coyle's job), as you began to both cough and hack.
The pair of reagents appeared rather pleased with themselves, smiling down towards your limp figure as you attempted to regain your composure. The individual who had attacked you stepped forward, nodding to the other currently tinkering with the generator. Obviously, they were prepared to continue their previous assault, to completely immobilize you, so you would no longer be a nuisance to worry about. They were obviously prepared to beat the ever loving shit out of you, so they could easily complete their remaining tasks, no longer concerned about any sort of lingering trap or secret surveillance.
However, even though your call had not been entirely released, it had done the trick. Either your trusty canine had perceived the singular syllable you had managed to execute, or the sound of shattering glass had captured his attention. Whatever the reason may have been, soon enough, the buzz and crack of lively electricity began to dance through the air, the strong scent of cigarette smoke effortlessly infiltrating your nostrils as Leland advanced.
"Did you just attack my wife!?" You perceived the audio of Coyle's booming voice, his boots repeatedly thumping against the pavement, and the continuous hum of his upgraded stun baton. As much as you yearned to savor such a statement, the fact that Leland had regarded you as his wife, something he had never once referred to you as before, the soft smile of joy was swiftly dismissed from your lips as yet another sharp cough promptly hitched itself within the depths of your throat. "Thats assault on a police officer! That is a crime!"
Although you were never formally an officer, a simple prime asset that had no relation to the field of law or justice, with the uniform and fake bade, it played into the facade. For this trial, you were an officer, just as other prime assets and ex-pops pretended to be doctors, nannies, mannequins, and other roles. It was all for show.
Coyle swiftly barged into the room, the electricity of his stun baton and car battery continuously popping and cracking through the atmosphere. He had kicked the door open so harshly, it practically exploded from its hinges as it harshly collided against the wall.
Upon his arrival, Leland swiftly discovered the scene before him, with you laying limp upon the ground, glass shattered across the floor, and the violent reagent looming above you. However, before the enemy could even possibly consider collecting another projectile to launch towards the cop, or continuing their berate upon you, Coyle had quickly managed to attack them.
Utilizing his amplified stun baton, along with a mixture of his own brute strength, Leland successfully disarmed the reagent. He shoved the other individual to the ground, causing the reagent to fall upon their ass, properly ejecting the air from their lungs, before swiftly bringing the electrified weapon down to their chest. He probed and prodded at the victim with his amplified baton, but his attack failed to cease after a simple shock of electricity.
Prime assets were specifically instructed to reward reagents with a singular attack at a time, rather than killing them all at once. Typically, Coyle would attack his victims with just one or two electric shocks before providing them with the option to flee. Just as Mother Gooseberry would drill her victims once or Franco would reward each reagent with a singular shot at a time. It provided participates with the option to actually complete each mission, rather than die only a few minutes in.
But Leland didn't stop. He failed to simply shock the reagent before allowing them to flee. No. Instead, Leland continued. Even as the reagent had fully collapsed upon the ground, convulsing and twitching beneath the power of his amplified stun baton, Coyle had continued. He repeatedly slammed the weapon against the reagents chest, beating them without mercy until they were completely limp and motionless upon the ground, their shirt burned and their skin charred.
The officer was practically fuming with anger, attacking his victim as if he was relieving all of his pent up frustration upon the corpse of the reagent. All whilst hollering statements along the lines of "You need to respect authority!" Or "Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!" And his visible fury, the fact that he was so determined to protect you, caused a small, affectionate smile to grace your lips as you slowly regained your composure, pushing your weak body upwards with the usage of your weary palms.
Yet, his rampage failed to end once the initial reagent had been decommissioned. Coyle did not reward the second individual with the opportunity to flee the scene or escape his torment, as he normally would have. Instead, he repeated such an action once more, this time directing his assault towards the other reagent.
Leland failed to waste even a moment before he stormed towards the participant positioned by the generator, their expression overwhelmed with a mixture of both shock and fear. Their flesh was pale, vision wide, and hands trembling, completely unprepared for such a reaction from the police officer. Prime assets were not prone to murdering their victims with the usage of a singular attack, and this reagent was obviously aware of such a reality. Yet, Coyle had just done so.
Once again, the officer brought the amplified stun baton down to the second reagents figure, emitting shock after electrifying shock though the individuals system.
"You watched your friend over there attack that police officer, and you didn't say nothin'!? Thats misprision of a felony!" Coyle shouted whilst he projected his weapon into the second reagents chest, repeatedly attacking them until the other individual had also collapsed upon the pavement, completely unresponsive, similar to the first victim.
Leland was enraged, that much was obvious. Sure, he was a typically irritated and frustrated man, prone to both violence and anger. However, he also enjoyed the chase, often only attacking his victims once before allowing them to scurry off, permitting the pattern to repeat all over again. Coyle loved the adrenaline he received from such a pursuit.
However, this time, he did not possess any form of mercy towards his victims. Leland was not slow or deliberate with each of his actions. Instead, he had murdered both of the reagents, killed them during the very first attack. There was no moment of recovery or the provided option to escape. Rather, he had simply electrocuted them to death, right then and there, as if the pair were finally receiving their punishment after years wasted upon death row.
The officer paused for a moment, panting and grunting as he peered down towards the corpse of the second reagent. His enraged expression was visible even within the darkness, the constantly glow and illumination emitted by the sparks of his stun baton successfully revealing his features. He appeared absolutely furious, a firm scowl etched across his lips, his brows furrowed, and his chest heaving with each rapid inhale.
However, as if someone had suddenly flipped some sort of switch inside of him, Coyle shifted within your direction. The cop turned towards you like a dog expecting some sort of treat. Immediately, the frustrated grimace was erased from his features, swiftly transformed into a wide grin. And although you could not properly perceiving his irises from beneath the shade of his sunglasses, you were aware of the fact that his vision was most likely enthusiastic with both delight and pride.
If Leland had possessed a tail, it would have certainly been wagging within that exact moment.
A soft grin infiltrated your features as you gazed towards the officer, hesitating for a moment before you eventually rewarded him with a gentle nod. The exact display of your acceptance that he had been awaiting.
And with that, Coyle dashed towards you. His lengthy strides consumed the small distance situated between the two of you, and as soon as Leland had arrived in front of you, he was swift to envelope you within his arms. The cop lifted you from your position upon the floor, engulfing you within a large hug, a firm embrace that successfully managed to compress your chest against the sturdy barrier of his figure.
Your toes were barely gracing the ground as Coyle hugged you, squeezing you so harshly within his arms, all of the air had been successfully ejected from your lungs.
"That was good, yeah? I did good?" He inquired, desperately seeking your approval.
As he continued to capture you within his grasp, his deep voice vibrating against your chest, your fingers danced across his shoulders. Your palms ventured up the column of his neck until your digits graced his skull. You laced your fingers within his dark hair, gentle pulling at the strands until he had perceived your gesture and successfully recoiled his head from the junction between your shoulder and your neck.
As his head retreated, you connected your vision with his own, or at least, what you assumed was the general location of his irises from beneath his tinted sunglasses, as you adored the man before you. A soft grin was etched across his lips, as if you were the most delicate creature upon the entire planet, and Leland was desperate to protect you against the cruelty of the world. Finally, you rewarded Coyle with a gentle nod before situating a tender kiss upon the tip of his nose.
"Yes, that was good. You're a good boy, Leland." You whispered.
If you had been anyone else, such as other prime assets or even Dr. Easterman, Coyle would have been instantly frustrated. The officer despised the occasions in which others regarded him like some sort of mutt.
Yet, you were the exception; with you, Leland basked within the affection, always searching for both your praise and approval.
You had successfully granted his wishes, and now, it was the cop's turn to provide you with your own reward: His obedience. Of course he was to display his satisfaction, that was the polite and respectful thing to do when your woman had been so perfect for you.
Leland leaned forward and enveloped your lips with his own, capturing you within a soft kiss. Your body instantly melted into his own, your hands gliding from his face, down his neck, and across his chest. The initial kiss was both tender and soft, your lips connecting within a rather gentle manner. The interaction reminded you of the mornings you spent along side your lover, when the two of you would prepare for your day, rewarding one another with a tender good bye kiss before you both begun your separate days of work.
However, what had originally started as a sweet and gentle embrace, soon evolved into something much more intimate and inappropriate when your palm graced his cock. Your hand trailed down his chest, consuming the texture of his leather jacket beneath your fingers, until your palm breached the edge of his pants, seeking his crotch as if you were on some sort of mission. And upon impact, you discovered that Coyle was already hard.
Leland had an inclination towards impressing you, always desperate to both please and satisfy you. The officer was prone to large displays of his devotion, such as arguing with Dr. Easterman upon your behalf, or attacking reagents in order to defend you, as he had just done. It was as if the cop had been transformed into some sort of smitten teenager all over again, desperate to impress his crush through any means possible, no matter how foolish or idiotic such actions truly were.
And whenever you provided him with your approval, it was as if some sort of switch suddenly flipped within his mind. Whenever you rewarded him with even the slightest bit of praise, Coyle went from both angry and frustrated, constantly fuming with a mixture of rage and fury, before basically morphing into putty within your palms.
"You want a treat, boy? I think you deserve a treat, yeah?" You whispered against his lips, and the rather provocative and somewhat degrading question earned you a gentle whimper from Lelands mouth as he softly thrusted his pelvis further into your grasp.
You took that as a yes.
Your hand lingered on his clothed erection for a long while, repeatedly palming and grasping at him through his pants, all in an attempt to get him further riled him. And your efforts appeared to succeed as the officer began to whimper against your lips, his thrusts becoming impatient, and his moans constantly increasing within volume. After only a few minutes of simple teasing, Coyle had successfully began to both whimper and whine into your mouth, kisses becoming slopping as he grew increasingly eager.
"Ive been such a good boy, (Y/N), just for you, all for you. Please." Leland shamelessly begged, his tone further increasing within pitch.
You giggled against his lips, rather pleased with his desperate begging. Coyle wasn't the type to plead or beg, he was often firm and confident with his actions, never failing to remain the one in charge. Leland did not enjoy receiving instructions from others, and he would certainly never beg. He was often the one providing commands, not the other way around.
Except for with you. The officer rather enjoyed your dominance towards him. And after a long day of observing him strutting around, all high and mighty with his stun baton and witty quips, it was rather amusing to perceive the officer become so submissive as a result of even the slightest touch. Just for you. You were informed of a part of Leland that no one else had ever been allowed to view. It was like you were constantly walking around with some sort of secret, aware of the fact that as soon as the two of you had gained any sort of privacy, Coyle would transform from an arrogant and assured cop, before morphing into a whiney little bitch, only for you.
You often wondered what the reagents would think if they ever perceived Sargent Leland Coyle, the short tempered cop who was quick to violence, acting within such a manner, so accustomed to his violent and angry tendencies.
"Alright." You finally obliged, your hand slipping towards the zipper of his pants "I suppose you're right."
Your blatant movements earned yet another groan from Lelands lips, his figure practically melting against your own, his body relying upon you for support, due to the fact that the promise of sweet release practically weakened him.
Your fingers grasped at the zipper before you began to yank at the small piece of metal, his fly coming undone with the typical zippp audio. Coyle detached his lips form your own before he leaned his head upon your shoulder, cuddling into your form as he allowed you to have your way with him. He always became such a baby when positioned within your grasp.
You reached into the opening of his pants, your hand delving into the confines of his boxers as you grasped at his erect cock. Such an action earned you a borderline mewl from the officer's lips.
Your movements were slow at first, teasing and tormenting the cop with gentle caresses and small movements focused mainly upon the head of his dick. Leland trembled against your shoulder, his hips occasionally bucking upwards as he searched desperately for even the slightest bit of friction. And eventually, you provided him with such attention.
Your movements ventured down the length of his cock, your grip tightening as you began to properly satisfy him. Your hand repeatedly glided up the length of his dick before sliding back downwards, rewarding the officer with calculated caresses. And each occasion in which your palm successfully encountered the base of his dick, completing a proper stroke, Coyle would release a gruff moan.
You were aware of the reality that he would fail to last very long. In fact, Leland rarely ever did. With your hands on him and such gentle attention, soft affection he wasn't quite accustomed to, Coyle always struggled to properly withhold himself. He wasn't familiar with such soft and tender interactions, much more accustomed to rough and harsh affection.
Additionally, such an act of anger and violence towards the two reagents, desperate to properly protect you, had seemingly boosted his drive. Leland had basically gotten high as a result of your praise, pride coursing through his system after properly defending his lover. And such self satisfaction only caused him to become much more sensitive and desperate within your grasp.
"You're such a good cop, you know that? Such a good boy protecting me like that." You cooed, providing him with the praise you knew he so desperately desired.
The officer panted and moaned into your ear, whimpering sweet phrases as he begged for your attention, each tender kiss he received causing him to groan with pleasure.
You were aware of the reality that he was close when he started to distribute more of his weight against your body, practically falling on top of you as he struggled to keep himself steady. Along with the reality that his movements were becoming rather sloppy and jerky, his hips stuttering with every thrust. Leland was becoming impatient and desperate as his conclusion swiftly advanced, just like always.
"God damn it, (Y/N). Ive been such a good boy, please let me cum, let me fucking cum." He whined, his breath hitching within the depths of his throat.
You simply rewarded the officer with a hum of your agreement, providing him with the approval he so desperately desired. Without your permission, it was as if Leland was completely debilitated, unable to finish without a proper sanction from your lips.
With your unfaltering strokes and the expression of your agreement, Coyle had finally received his reward. With a rather deep groan and his hips stuttering upwards, further thrusting into the grasp of your palm, the officer finally came. Leland moaned your name and executed a flood of appreciation as he finished, his cum splattering against your abdomen as he repeatedly whined the same desperate "Thank you." Over and over and over again.
Coyle practically collapsed on top of you, his weight completely reliant upon your own figure as he melted into your grasp. His chest was heaving and sweat dripped from his brow whilst he gasped for air.
After a few moments, successfully regaining his composure, Leland finally pushed himself off of you. The officer wearily reached for his pants before properly readjusting them, successfully returning his spent cock within the confines of his boxers. Coyle then situated the cap upon his head and arranged his sunglasses, attempting to return to his typically assembled appearance.
You reached towards his face, gently caressing the visible scar upon the right side of his head as some sort of display of your affection.
"You're such a good boy, Leland, the best canine a girl could ever ask for." You cooed, a devious little smirk trembling upon your lips.
As if the switch had suddenly been flicked off, Coyle had reverted into the typically irritated and serious version of himself.
"Alright, enough." He stated within a gruff and stern voice, further readjusting his cap as he attempted to return to his signature firm and serious demeanor.
Yet, you weren't ignorant to the slight blush that adorned his features, along with the manner in which he wearily avoided eye contact with each and every scientist the two of you passed upon your way out.
Thinking about 𝓢oldier 𝓑oy having an obsession with the taste of your cunt. Spreading your thighs wide open, a leg either side of his head, just completely devouring you the second The Boys leave you two alone in his motel room.
He works you over the edge again and again, skilfully with his mouth and fingers, until you’re broken and pliant, still nude on the crumpled bedsheets and whining out pathetic noises you’re not sure you’ve ever heard yourself make.
Eventually, Soldier Boy peels himself away from your cunt, wiping your remaining wetness from his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving your trembling form on the bed. All pleased with himself, he heads over to the fast food he’d forced you to abandon on the table when you’d first arrived—having pounced on you instantly, letting the sweaty bag of food sit idly while you two got busy.
The fries are a little cold now, and the burger looks a little sad, but it’s not a problem. Not to Ben.
“Shhh, babydoll. I’ll clean you up in a moment, alright?” he mutters, settling back down on the bed beside your fidgeting body. He places his food down on the nightstand, momentarily forgotten again as his attention returns back to you. His firm hands tug your soft body into a prime position—your head facing the end of the bed, cheek smushed against the sheets as you swim hazily in the lasting pleasure, and your thighs spread over his lap, your pussy perfectly on display for him—still wet and swollen, covered in spit and arousal.
“Fuckin’ delicious,” he muses, more to himself than anything, and grabs his food off the nightstand.
You hear him unwrapping the burger and the lazy sounds of him chewing. Then you feel it—the slow swipe through your folds.
“Mmm,” Ben hums, bringing the now wet fry to his mouth. “Wish I could drizzle this pussy on everything. I’d have you fuckin’ squirt into my coffee every morning if I could. Pissin’ in my whiskey too for the hell of it.”
His vulgar words cut through the fogginess in your brain, and a groan half-heartedly escapes your mouth into the mattress. Your hips shift, and your desperate cunt flutters right before Ben’s eyes—pleading for more attention.
“Be patient,” he scolds and taps your ass with his greasy hand. Another fry swipes through the slickness between your legs. “You can wait ten minutes. I’ve trained you well enough to know better. So, don’t start, or I’ll plug this pretty little hole with these cold ass fries ‘stead of my cock.”
“Shut yer mouth,” he snarled, catching your face and shoving it back.
“Don’t be embarrassed!”
You lunged for his glasses again, but he caught you by the shoulders and sent you tumbling. The creek-side pebbles dug into your spine, a sharp discomfort that quickly vanished the moment Coyle dropped down on top of you. He caught your wrists, pinning them against the stones with the weight of his body.
To any hiker passing the creek, it would look like a pair of teenagers caught in a heavy make-out session—though if they recognized Coyle, romance would be the last thing on their minds.
You gripped his hands tighter when his glasses finally slipped, bouncing off your nose and landing in the dirt.
“Why you gotta be so damn stubborn?” he whispered. He kept one eye squeezed shut, his face inches from yours.
“Because you like it. Now, open.”
You watched the muscle in his jaw cord flex before he finally yielded, opening the other eye—his lazy eye. His grip on your hands tightened but you only smiled. You tilted your head up slightly, a silent invitation, and he took the hint,
leaning down to capture your lips.
You hooked your legs around his waist, dragging him closer until there was no daylight left between you. When you finally pulled back, he was breathless.
“Handsome,” you teased, smiling at his dazed expression. His lazy eye drifted for a second before snapping back to focus on you. “So damn hand—“
He didn't let you finish, crashing his lips against yours again. You latch onto him, winding your arms around his neck while his hips slowly grind against you.
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