Warnings: This will include dark elements, abuse, trauma, neglect, kidnap, including non/dubcon. Please do not read if these elements or any dark elements make you uncomfortable.
Character: Cole Turner
Summary: you're the least valuable among the bunch, but it doesn't mean someone won't want you. (another wife-buying fiend)
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“Teyona,” you whisper, “Tee.”
You reach over as the small slat of light at the seam of the metal shelter barely reaches you. You can see the shape of the young woman curled up beside you, feel her shivering as you press your palm to her forehead. She’s feverish and gibbering.
“Hey, honey, shhh.” You pet her sweaty hair. “Here, I saved some, for you.”
You take the bottle of water you kept crushed under you. There’s maybe a mouthful left. It’s hardly enough for her. You angle her around and pull her head into your lap. You feel around her lips before you tip the trickle of water into her mouth and rub her throat. She swallows with a croak.
“Is she gonna be okay?” Marska whispers from her other side, her accent thick around her words.
“I don’t know.” You admit softly, mindful of your volume. You glance towards the line of light, wary of one of the men passing by.
“Sick.” Marska states in her fractured English.
“Yes,” you agree.
You hold the girl against you, rocking her, caressing her cheek. You never thought you had any maternal instinct. At your age, most people assumed so. Seems you finally found it.
Teyona’s nineteen. She was on her way to college when she spun out on the country roads and woke up here. She wanted to study biology but her grades were too low so she went into economics instead. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but she’d take it now.
She asked you about your college years. You would tell her when you couldn’t hear the constant pace of soles outside, or the voices, the laughter. It was easier to tell her about the girl who was than the woman who’s now stuck in this place. The middle-aged office worker who was just taking the urn of her dead cat out to the beach to scatter.
The clanging on the side of the shipment crate echoes through you. You sink into your shoulders as the clamour rattles your skull. Several girls whine but they move quickly.
“On your bellies, girls.” A voice hollers through as the banging continues.
Shoot. You spread Teyona out. She whimpers and drones. You get her on her stomach then spread out. You put your hands on the back of your head, your face between the feet of the girl ahead of you.
The doors are pulled open. You stare down at the ground. You look up and you won’t do it a second time. Not after you feel the butt of the rifle.
The men’s shadows stretch over the prone bodies, trembling and gulping on the cold metal. Boots stamp down, stepping carelessly between the women. You hold your breath, not for yourself but Teyona.
You’re not stupid. The men told you themselves. You’re not meant to be here. You’re too old but maybe if they put a bag on your head…
“Well, better something than nothing, right?” One man scoffs.
“Where the fuck is she? Look for grey.” The other snickers.
You frown. They can’t mean... A third man kicks your side. “The old one’s here.”
You resent that. You don’t say so but you’ve caught a few glimpses of them. They’re not all spring chickens.
“Hey, let’s get her up.”
The man who kicked you grabs one elbow and another man takes the opposite. They haul you up. Panic swells in your stomach. Not for yourself, but for the girl on the ground shivering and slack on the metal as the outside beams in. Marska reaches over to take her hand. She’ll take care of her.
You don’t have a choice. The men pull your arms down and twist them behind you. The march you out of the crate. You squint at the brightness. The warmth of the sun is a relief from the humidity of the dark freight.
Why you? Why now? This can’t be good. You already understand what’s happening. Where the others go. Not the specifics, but the purpose. Women sold to the highest bidder.
“This way.” The first man commands as he leads the way.
You walk stiffly, chafing in their grasp, yet happy for the extra support. They walk you around the length of the freight and past another. As you come around the corner, there’s a man waiting by a truck.
His hands are in his pocket, then out of them. He paces back and forth as he pulls his gestures in silent conversation with himself. He scratches his sandy hair and turns on his heel, giving a start as he sees you and the men.
He wears jeans and a carhaart jacket. He looks like an average guy. Tall, maybe a few years youngrt than you, his boots scuffed and his plaid shirt slightly sweaty. He shoves his hands in his pockets again, fisting them under the fabric.
“This is all we got in your price range, guy.” They shove you ahead.
You stumble and the man’s face lights up in surprise and dismay. He opens his arms and catches you. Your head lands against his chest as you groan.
“Sorry…” you rasp.
“Hey, you don’t have to be so rough with her.”
“Ha. Don’t play like that. We all know what this is.” The guard retorts. “Now you have two minutes to get the fuck out of here and not come back. You’re lucky I didn’t beat you down coming in here with no money.”
“It’s all I got,” the man says.
“Ours not. Get.” The other retorts.
The man who holds you shifts you in his embrace. You struggle to stand and he moves you so his arm is around your back. He turns you and guides you to the truck. He lifts you into the front seat. Well, at least you’re worth something. You’re not sure this is an escape though.
He buckles you in and squeezes your arm. You ignore his gaze as you feel him looking you over. He shuts the door and hurries around the front of the truck. He gets in the driver side and fumbles to turn the ignition. He cranks the shifter and reverses out.
“Those guys are scary, huh?” He mutters as he rolls the wheel around and leans into the gas pedal.
You don’t say a word. Your head lolls and you stare out the window. You just want to watch the sky. It’s like an old friend.
“You know, I… I didn’t think it’d be like that. I thought they’d take care of you girls. You know…” he rambles. “That’s all I wanna do. So, you don’t gotta worry.” He grips the wheel and leans forward. “I’ll do better.”
You still don’t answer. He falls into silence and drives on. You slump and slowly sink into hazy sleep.
You jolt up as the door beside you opens. He touches your shoulder gently, rubbing your dry skin. “You looked… you’re okay. I thought.” He sniffs. “I just stopped a mile back. Got you something to drink.” He points over you to the cupholder. “Lots of electrolytes.”
You stare at him. His hand lingers then trails along the side of your neck. “You okay, honey?”
You stare at the buttons of his shirt.
“Look, I’m just gonna look you over. Make sure you’re not hurt.” He says.
He runs his hand back to your shoulder and with both, he feels along your arm, examining it, than the other. He does the same to your legs, tracing a thick scab below your knee. “Ouch, look like it hurts.”
He feels up your thigh and you twitch.
“I’m just… not gonna… hurt you.” He bends, slowly. He looks hypnotised as his thick fingertips tickle along your thigh. He gets lower and lower. You lean back into the seat. ”Just…”
You squirm but don’t push him off as he suddenly shoves his nose down against your pelvis. He nuzzles into the front of your worn-out panties and takes a deep whiff. You watch him in horror and disbelief. This is insane. He’s insane.
He stands up so suddenly, he looks ready to tip over. He grabs the door to steady himself and clears his throat. He spreads his hand over his chest and drags it down.
He swings the door shut and turns away. He pauses and grips his head, fingers curling as he says something you can’t make out. He drops his arms and marches around to the driver’s door and climbs into the seat.
“Have a drink, honey,” he twists the key. “We’ll be home soon.”
Australian actor Julian McMahon, known for his roles in Nip/Tuck, Charmed, Fantastic Four died July 2 after a private battle with cancer.
"Actor Julian McMahon, known for his starring roles in Nip/Tuck, Charmed, FBI: Most Wanted and the 2000s Fantastic Four movies, died July 2 in Clearwater, Florida after a private battle with cancer. He was 56."
“With an open heart, I wish to share with the world that my beloved husband, Julian McMahon, died peacefully this week after a valiant effort to overcome cancer,” McMahon’s wife, Kelly McMahon, said in a statement to Deadline. “Julian loved life. He loved his family. He loved his friends. He loved his work, and he loved his fans. His deepest wish was to bring joy into as many lives as possible. We ask for support during this time to allow our family to grieve in privacy. And we wish for all of those to whom Julian brought joy, to continue to find joy in life. We are grateful for the memories.”
A group of men work together to recruit the perfect women for them.
Featuring: Jack O'Malley, Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Johnny Storm, Mike Weiss, Jake Jensen, Ransom Drysdale, Steve Rogers, Curtis Everett, Colin Shea, Pete Brenner, Cole Turner
Warnings: this fic contains violence and suggestions of kidnap/isolation, as well as adultery. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
18+ only, explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
You voted, I wrote it. This is June 12th’s fic!
Cole Turner + “I’m easy enough to please when you listen.”
I welcome and appreciate all feedback. This means replies, reblogs, and asks. I do prefer if you can reblog and share my work along with your thoughts. <3
The thunder cracks outside. You flinch and listen to the battering rain. This is your chance. The one moment you’ve been waiting for.
You shiver and check the pillow case around your hand. You close your eyes and breathe. You can do this. You have to.
You look out the window, just above ground level and watch the sky. You can see the churning storm in the clouds. The next rumble shakes you but you don’t hesitate. You punch through the pane. Then you wait as it passes.
On the next keel of thunder, you clear out the shards jutting out of the frame. You have to time your next move as well. You push the wooden night table over to the window and step up. You don’t look back.
You push yourself up until your toes are no longer on the table. You haul yourself through, wriggling in the narrow frame. For a moment, you don’t think you’ll fit all the way through. Panic pumps through your veins.
You drag yourself across the grass and mud. You stay on your stomach, crawling breathless through the sheets of rain. You keep low beneath the moonlight and the glow of the bulb on the side of the house. You move slow, cautious of the censors on the cameras.
Inch by inch you wade through the storm and the threat of pursuit. You get to the fence. You can’t risk climbing over. You turn and put your feet on the lower slat. You kick in tandem with the thumping sky. Finally, it comes free.
You roll under, soaked in muck and rain. You don’t care. You just keep going.
You don’t dare sit up until you get to the row of trees and brush along the dirt road. The leaves droop in the downpour. You get to your hands and knees and follow the trim of overgrown grass alongside the beaten road.
When all you can see is darkness, you get to your feet. You’re worn and filthy, exhausted already. You know you still have far to go.
Your bare feet pang with the jab of sharp stones. You shuffle along, shivering, soaked. The rain slows as you twitch at the noise of unseen critters.
Your eyelids sag and your shoulders too. You hug yourself as only the sound of the gravel beneath your feet fills the void of the dead storm. A mist of rain remains but the sky is quiet, only a tremor of lightning pulsing off in the distance.
Go, go, go.
You slump along, each step more painful than the last. The sky softens and the horizon lightens. You hear a thrum off in the distance. You look back. You’re not as far as you thought. You turn and throw yourself into a ragged sprint, though you can’t move much faster than when you walked.
No, no, no, he’s coming. The engine roars through the fields. You break off from the road and cross through the tall crops. The tall stalks move with you, batting you back as you fight them off with blind flails.
He’s coming! Faster, faster. The crush and crunch of tires and the rev of an engine strangles you. Your chest and lungs burn. You pump your arms as you stagger through the wall of unplowed harvest.
You hear the stalks behind you thrashing down as they’re crushed. He wouldn’t! No, it can’t be.
The sudden glare of lights makes you scream and a crack of agony goes through your left leg and hip. You shriek as your leg is crushed beneath the tire and the crank of the gears halts the metal beast.
You lay on your stomach and sob. You can’t move your leg but you’re too afraid to even try. You’ve never felt this kind of pain.
The car door opens with a groan and boots hit the dirt. You listen in dread as he approaches. Cole sticks his toe under your stomach and flips you over. You wail in sheer torture as your leg drags limply from the socket.
“Honey, I told you to get some sleep.” He bends his knees and squats beside you.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me.” You beg and gnash your teeth. “My… my leg.”
He hushes you and pets your cheek. He tuts as he shakes his head. His hand trails down your neck. He brushes down your side to your hip. He squeezes the dislocated joint and you roar.
"You shouldn't have done that," he tuts.
"Please, I-- I'm..." you heave and claw at your chest. "Scared."
"Scared?" He scoffs. "Of what? I thought you understood."
You wheeze, nearly gagging from the pain.
"All you had to do was be good. Keep me happy and I'll keep you happy, honey." He pushes on your hips until your body spasms. He grits. “I’m easy enough to please when you listen.”
He hooks his arms under you and lifts you. You cry out again, latching onto him only to keep from screaming even louder. You’re blind from the pain, completely senseless as you jostle in his grasp.
He lays you down unkindly in the back of the truck. He shows no concern as he pushes your crushed leg out of the way of the door and slams it. You sink into a senseless void as you feel his weight in the front of the cabin and he sighs.
