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georgiapeach30513 · 9 months

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No More Last Chances

Summary: When you can’t handle Cole’s smothering, he makes sure you can take a little more.

Pairings: Cole Turner X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, sex pollen/dub con, kidnapping, unprotected sex, PIV sex, degradation, multiple orgasms, creampie, multiple men, DP, mentions of DVP, blowjob, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.5K

Cole Turner Masterlist

You tremble as your eyes try to peer through the bag that’s over your head. Wiggling your hands and legs only to discover that they were bound. Tied up and face covered. Nothing to do, and nowhere to hide. Twisting your head you look around your space, and it looks like an almost empty room, minus a bed.

It is cold. The type of cold that makes your barely dressed body pop up with goosebumps, and your nipples push against your clothing. What were you wearing? So much of your skin is exposed. Silk. Tight. Covering only enough to make you not naked.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes out in the room. “Hello?” You croak again, losing all hope. What did he, she, or they want? Judging by your lack of panties, you could only guess.

“Hello?” Your voice cracks as tears start to roll down your face. The tears weren’t helping anything. And it pissed you off. Your fear is turning to anger. “Let me the fuck out of here. Hello!”

“Hey, HoneyBee,” the bag over your head slowly lifts off you, and you don’t have to let your eyes adjust to know who had you bound up in this stupid mother fucking chair.

“Cole!” Seething through your teeth, as your brows furrow and you glare at him. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Unite me this instant.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Cole!?” Unaware if this was a question or just a demand, your face starts to soften. “Cole? Please.”

“There’s your manners. You know, I love you.”

“Loved,” you interrupt, and he cracks his neck, hissing through his teeth.

“Love. I still do, HoneyBee. And you ran.”

“You were smothering me! You text twenty-seven times in a row, and I didn’t even have a chance to respond.”

“When I text, you should acknowledge that you’re thinking of me, just as much as I’m thinking of you,” you roll your eyes, and tilt your head back, looking up at the ceiling. He was going to start monologuing again. “I took time out of my day to tell you how beautiful you are. How much I love you, and that you’re amazing and wonderful, and that I missed you. And you couldn’t take five seconds out of your day just to say you love me.”

“I am working. I don’t have the time to do that when I am having to watch and teach twenty-five eight year olds. I have…”

“Shh. I speak, you listen. And then it occurred to me, you lack boundaries. You need them set up, so you know how our relationship is going to work.”

“We’re not together.”

“I said to be quiet!” He was worse than your students. Throwing a tantrum because he needed to be heard. “You need boundaries. And I need you. I need you to understand, and…why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why did you bring me here? You kidnapped me,” he shakes his head no, trying to think of an excuse to call this anything but kidnapping, “You did. I am tied up and wearing a silk slip, and nothing else.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Why?” You ask, and Cole lifts up his hand. His fingers peel back one at a time before you’re left to stare at his palm covered in a powder. “Cole, what is…” he blows over his hand, and dust flies into your face. Coughing and sputtering, you watch as he innocently drags a chair to sit in front of you.

“Cole?”

“I’m just waiting. I was told it wouldn’t take long,” crossing his legs, his eyes drift down your body. Watching as beads of sweat prickle your skin. What was happening? You have to look away from Cole because the most lewd and disgusting thoughts were plaguing your brain.

Taking a deep breath, you roll your eyes closed, but visions of his body hovering over you as his hips drive him deeper into your warmth have you jolting them back open. It isn’t any better. They were undressing him when they opened as well. Playing tricks on you, and making you view him completely naked with his cock hard and calling your name.

“Cole,” you whimper. This wasn’t right. And you couldn’t think of anything but him. “Cole,” a deep need that is seeking pain courses through your veins, clouding your judgment because all you want is relief. It’s what you desire more than the air you breathe.

“Cole,” whining as your hips start grinding on the chair. “Cole. Cole!” It helped a little. The fabric runs over your drenched cunt, offering a little relief from the pain. And that asshole sits in front of you grinning from ear to ear. Of course he would enjoy your discomfort.

He is no doubt enjoying the show you are putting on, but you couldn’t help it. You move over the chair so much that the silk slip starts to ride up. Exposing your dripping core to Cole, and you didn’t care. You weren’t going to stop. If riding a chair was going to offer relief, it’s what you would do.

“Sweet lord,” Cole growls as his eyes stare at your visible pussy. Watching as your slick spreads over the chair hungrily. Trying to moan out anything but his name, but there was no use. He was right there. His pants are tight and bulging. He was hard from your little desperate show.

“My goodness,” he moans again, standing up to walk beside you, and moves your top down, pulling out your tits, and rolling your nipples between his fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” you plead. His hands were offering even more relief. “Cole, I need it.”

“I can tell. You’re creating a trail like a little snail. Desperate and fucking a chair. It didn’t take long,” you want to cry when he takes one hand off your chest, and lifts your chin up to look at you. “What color are your eyes?” Who the fuck cared. You want his fingers in some hole in your body. Let you suck on them, or let your pussy suck them into the depths of her warmth.

“They look black right now. Are you so needy that you’ve become a junkie for my cock?”

“Cole!” Ouch. That hurts not only your cunt, but your ego. “Cole!” Did he want you to beg for him? How much lower could you sink than grinding on a chair? “Cole, untie me!”

“Why, HoneyBee? What could I possibly gain by untying you?”

“Please. My god, please!” He is cruel. You have already embarrassed yourself enough. You couldn’t say what you really wanted him to do. No. He could tell. Your body was telling on you. It was visible. And you couldn’t even close your legs. Couldn’t even touch yourself. Something needs to be inside you. You need friction inside your pussy.

“Oh, come on. I know that you’ve got to be burning to be stretched. Your sweet little cunt needs someone to fuck her, but I’m enjoying this show. If you want it, ask nicely.”

“Fuck me!”

“Ask nicely,” his mouth turns sideways and into a devilish smirk, but you didn’t want to ask nicely. You could hardly breathe. Sweat slides down your body almost as much as your core was dripping down the chair. It hurt. It burned. And you needed relief.

“Eh eh!” He tsks when you start to shout at him. He knew you enough that you didn’t break easily. “Ask nicely, or I leave for a while. You won’t even get to stare at this,” unzipping his pants, he pulls out his beautiful, succulent and achingly hard cock.

Running his thumb on the tip, and you see strings of precum stretch off him upon removal. He was a tease. Slowly stroking his cock. Able to touch himself, while you’re quaking inside. No amount of grinding was offering any relief. It was like being edged for eternity. Never given the moment to actually orgasm. Getting close enough, so close, but nothing. It was a cruel build up, and then it was gone.

“Fuck you,” you spit at him, but he chuckles.

“Oh, I can fuck myself. You on the other hand will be left on that fucking chair, hunching until you go mad. Starving, but only worried about getting that cunt stretched and pumped full of my cum. Is it so hard to ask nicely?”

Why did his cock look so pretty being stroked with his hand? Why couldn’t you look at anything other than his cock? What did he blow at you? Blow? Would a blow job help? Job? You could give him a pussy job. Pussy? Your pussy needs to be filled. Filled? Just like a cream filled donut.

“Cole,” you whimper out his name. “Cole, please. Please can you just fuck me?”

“Fill that tight little hole with cum?” Cole’s eyebrow arches up, and you nod your head.

“Yes. Cole, please. Please just fuck me. Please, it hurts. Please? Pretty please fuck me like a bitch in heat. Please, I need you and your cum, and that thick giant cock.”

Cole’s movements become rigid as he stands. Fingers shaking so hard it was a struggle to undo the bindings on your arms and legs. You can’t even stand. Couldn’t do anything but grind hard on that chair. Moving so rapidly over it that Cole has to pick you up. Place you on your back, and your legs spread wide. Ready to take him and that thick veiny cock.

“Cole,” you beg again, trying not to touch yourself as he stalks over to you. “Cole,” your hands start to dip between your legs, but he chastises you. “Cole, I need to be fucked. God, I need to be fucked so hard, and good, and deep. Ahh,” the bit of relief you feel as Cole pushes through your weeping cunt.

You sigh in relief as he completely bottoms out, leaving you panting and needing more than just to cockwarm him. “Cole!”

“Hold on. I’m enjoying this. You were always so much prettier like this. Filled and stretched with my cock, and oh so satisfied. What is this?” He asks, acting all surprised. “Are you already fluttering around me? I enter into you and you’re coming like a desperate little whore?”

He was cruel. You feel like you have been aching for hours. Of course you were ready to come. Your body has been needing this. “Cole, fuck me so hard!” Pulling himself out of you, he quickly stabs back into your wet channel, and a louder sigh rings up at him.

It feels glorious. A scratch that had finally been itched. Feeling a rush of adrenaline in your body. Euphoria. Such a sweet delightful high. Smiling as your body rocks with Cole’s motion. This was better than being drunk. Better than any massage you have ever had. It was spectacular. Something you couldn’t even put into words because it was that good.

“How many fucking times are you going to come?”

“All of them,” you sigh as another burst of flames rips through your body. This was the life. Constant orgasms, and fucked too dumb to even know what was happening.

“I’m almost there.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Right there.”

“Please, don’t quit.”

“Right…fuuuckk!” Oh no! Was this the end? That was too quick. There had to be more.

Cole’s cream starts to leak out of your body, and the irritating unease starts to build back up. This was going to be painful again. No! You couldn’t do it again. Never again. You needed to be fucked always.

——

“When do you think you can get here?” Cole asks, staring at you gripping tight to his ankles as you bounce over him. The perfect view of your cunt spread wide over him. “What do you mean? I’m exhausted. I can’t sleep.”

“Cole. I can’t stop,” you inform him. Why would you want to stop? It’s the best high in the world.

“I know she’s desperate. I need more than you.”

“Oh fuck. This is the best thing ever!” You triumphantly declare as another orgasm makes you smile. You didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t stop. The pain was always there. Always.

“I used all of the powder. I don’t understand,” Cole smacks at your ass, hoping that would make you get off, but it doesn’t.

“Fuck my ass!”

“Do you hear her? She was against anal. So….you gave me all that sex pollen for what reason?”

“Cole! Fuck my virgin hole!” Begging seemed to do the trick with him.

“Just all of you come up here! I can’t fuck anymore.”

“No!” You cry. Cole had to fuck. You need to be fucked. Fucking was all that mattered. Fucking was everything.

——

“She never sleeps,” Jax eyeballs you as Bucky fucks harder into your ass. Steve lays there filling you up, petting over your pretty throat, and Dean just fucks your mouth harder. “Why did you use all the sex pollen?”

Cole turns toward his friend, pursing his lips. You would have never agreed to being airtight like this. To have men ruin your body almost every hour of the day. “Uhh…why did you give me all that sex pollen?” He turns back to watch you with your eyes gleaming at the man that was using your mouth. You were in heaven.

“In case having sex with her didn’t help. It could have given you time to make her see she belongs with you. And then you go on and blow every bit of it in her face. What is wrong with you? I don’t know how long this is going to last. She’s offering up her greedy little holes for whatever person wants to fill them. You fucked up big time.”

“Jax,” you breathlessly call over to him. Tears stream down your face, and you moan as another high courses through you. “Jax, I need two cocks in my pussy.”

“Oh god,” Cole moans, as you sit up more. The force of Bucky was making your body ripple with pleasure.

“Or…oh fuck…suck my titties as everyone uses me! Please! Fuck fuck fuuuckk!! Call some more friends. Call them!”

“No!” Cole gives you a pout. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to want him. Not every other man. But my god did you not look beautiful being used. “Dean fuck her mouth some more. Jax, let's suck on her tits.”

“Fuck that shit. I’m cramming my dick beside Stevie’s. You and him can suck on tits. Maybe she’ll be in control enough to give you a handjob. But I am not missing this opportunity.”

“How long was this going to take? How long would it last? Were you forever to be doomed to being a used wet hole forever? Or eventually could you sleep? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that you wanted to be used. Needed to be used. And the urge was still just as strong. But maybe after each man had destroyed you, you could be at peace. Or maybe, just maybe you needed to be fucked for the rest of your life. Taking turns. Or bringing in new men.

You didn’t know. Wouldn’t care. You guess your holes were just open for business. And that’s what you took comfort in. Being used. Every second. Every minute. Every hour. Of every day.

Masterlist

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#no more last chances #cole turner #cole turner x reader #cole turner x fem!reader #cole turner x you #cole turner x y/n #dark!cole turner #cole turner smut #ghosted #ghosted movie #chris evans #chris evans characters

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Crossed Wires 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: silverfox!Andy Barber, Cole Turner

Summary: you try to balance your work with your private life as your boss and a new client try to blur the lines. (short!reader)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The gravel mulches loudly under the tires of the truck. You grip the ridged wheel as the seat belt strains against your shoulder. You make yourself sit back, the seat slid up as far as it will go. Still, the bumper shortens your perspective.

You figured you’d get a call to the old Orson place when you heard it sold. That was months ago though and the new owner finally set down roots there. You haven’t seen them, you’ve only heard the whispers that accompany any happening in Hammer Ford; from a new recipe to the juiciest of scandals. You pay much attention to any of it.

You keep your hands at ten and two as you follow the long gravelly drive to the farmhouse facade. There’s a single car parked outside the garage. It’s a sleek white SUV, luxury by the looks of the hood ornament. It’s not what you expect around here. That paint job will be dusty in now time, if not scratched by errant pebbles.

You pull in and shut off the engine. You undo your seat belt and check your watch. Right on schedule. You open the door and step on the rusted step below the door, letting yourself down with a hop. Your tan work boots kick up dirt as you round to the passengers side and swing the door open to retrieve your heavy work bag.

You sling the thick strap over your shoulder and snap the door as you head towards the house. You rest your hand on the side of the bag as you near the steps, searching for any sign of life. The stairs creak as you climb onto the low porch.

“Can I help you?” The deep voice startles you.

You blink and turn to face the man sitting on the wooden boards, bolts and screws around him along with metal parts and wooden boards. You hadn’t seen him through the tight slats of the railing.

You keep your usual vague stare as you sniff, “got a call about the breaker.”

He squints at you, a squiggle forming between his brows. He’s older. His grey hair has a single bolt of its former dirty blond just above his forehead. Despite the heat and the dirt sprinkled over the boards, he wears a pair of dark slacks and a button-up rolled to his elbows.

“You’re the electrician,” he states as he sets aside the small screwdriver in his hand. He stands with a grunt, grasping his knee before he straightens.

“Sure am,” you reply flatly.

“I spoke with a man,” he intones, hands going to his hips as he looks down at you.

“That’s would be my boss. Cole.”

“That’s his name,” he steps forward, wiping his hand on his shirt, staining the light gray fabric, “Andy.”

He offers his hand and you shake it curtly. All the farmers pride themselves on keeping a firm grip and you never faltered with them. He squeezes before he lets you go. He doesn’t have the typical callouses, you even have a few.

“How’d you get into this work?” he wonders.

“It’s work. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t– I don’t mean anything,” he stammers.

“Didn’t think you did,” you sniff, “so, what am I looking at?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” he reaches back to rub his neck. The power keeps… flickering.”

“Ah, been a while, probably just need to wait for it to stabilize. City worker came out months ago for the meters,” you explain.

“Right, well, I heard sizzling.”

“Show me where you heard it.”

He nods and gestures you towards the door. Before you can reach it, he pulls the wooden screen door back and waits for you to enter ahead of him. He tells you it’s just down the hall and stop you near the basement door. You peer down the stairs and flick the light switch. There’s a low buzz.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it,” you look up, “but I can have a look.”

“Oh, okay,” he utters, “I also had another question. You might know something about it.”

You look at him. He seems put off by your expressionless stare.

“I wanted to install an automatic opener in the garage…”

“I can do the wiring, sure, long as you buy the parts,” you answer. “I can give you recommendations, odds are, you’ll need a whole new door as well.”

“Sure,” he agrees uneasily.

“Can schedule an appointment when you decide,” you turn your palm out, “I’ll just go grab my ladder and have a look then.”

You go to step past him but he’s not quick enough. You nearly collide and find yourself moving back and forth with him, trying to get by. You stop and stare. He stills himself and turns sideways, waving you by. You pass and let out a slow breath through your nose.

You stalk back down the hall and onto the porch. You hear him following you. You come down the steps as he continues his close pursuit. You don’t exactly know what he’s doing but you won’t ask. Cole says you need to work on customer service and not tell people to get out of your way.

You go around the bed of the truck and open the back. You reach for the ladder but another arm stretches further and faster. He pulls the ladder out before you can and you step back with a grunt.

“Hey, I can get it,” you insist.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind helping.”

“So why am I here?” You ask curtly, immediately knowing you asked a bad question.

“Sorry, I was just… being nice,” he says.

“Right,” you try to soften your tone, “it’s just… it’s my job. I can carry the ladder.”

“I know you can,” he looks down at you and you feel even smaller. You don’t like it when they try to play gentleman, it’s condescending. You might be short but you’re strong enough.

“Thanks,” you grab the ladder and yank it from his grasp.

He lets go and you continue past him. He huffs and follows a few paces back from the end of the ladder. You angle it up the steps.

“At least let me get the door,” he inches past you, “okay?”

“Thanks,” you repeat in the same even keel.

You enter and take the ladder down the hall. He hovers just down the hallway, watching as he shifts his weight between his feet. He’s the worst kind of customer, the kind that have to supervise.

You step up the ladder and look past it. “Mind holding it?”

“You sure?” He gives a trite arch of his brow.

You blink and keep your eyes from rolling, “I’d appreciate it, sir.”

He comes forward and braces the ladder staunchly. You climb up and suppress a snarl. City folk think you’re all backwards out here but they can’t wrap their damn head around a woman with a brain.

#andy barber #cole turner #dark andy barber #dark cole turner #dark!andy barber #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #andy barber x reader #drabble #backwoods au #au #crossed wires #defending jacob #series #ghosted

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