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proceduralpassion · 1 year ago

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Promise

Day 3 of Narcoctober- Put your favorite playlist on shuffle and whatever song comes up first, that’s your prompt.

Characters: Horacio Carrillo x OC (Kiara Nash)

CW: language, SMUT (lap dance, leg grinding, bj)

A/N: Back at it again with another Narcotober fic. My shuffle song ended up being Promise by Ciara and I feel like I skirted the prompt just a little bit? I went with the general *aesthetic* of the song (known to be a lap dance fave) and the theme alluding to pleasing/devoting to ya mans. Horacio deserves some loving and Kiara is all too happy to give it. Did NOT edit but grammar/spelling errors build character idk. Enjoy!

Kiara’s hands rest on her husband’s back, admiring his frame but also massaging the stress out of his muscles. His head is slanted down towards his desk in their home office, focusing on the papers and maps in front of him.

“It’ll all still be here later, come back to the present,” she coaxed.

Horacio’s just been made the head of the Search Bloc and his discipline to the post is admirable. It was a role he was made for, rising to the challenge from the very first day. It made Kiara proud.

Nonetheless, it was getting late and she wanted nothing more than to spend some quality time with her husband.

His neck rolled, releasing even more tension. His eyes looked to the ceiling and she could tell by the way that he leaned back into her touch that she had got him. His hands eventually peel back from their place pressed against the edges of the desk.

Music could be faintly heard from the living room. Kiara had put in a cassette tape and had been dancing by her lonesome with a glass of wine until she decided she was tired of performing for an invisible audience. Entertaining her husband sounded so much more fun.

His hand blindly reaches for her and she turns him around and lightly tugs on his arm. Horacio follows his wife out in the common area of the living room and smirks, knowing that she’s up to something.

“You weren’t wearing that at dinner, mi amor.”

“I was not,” she confirms with an innocent smile.

She wore spandex shorts and a cropped sweatshirt at dinner, her usual attire she changed into after getting home from a shift at the hospital. Now, she wore his white button down shirt that he had worn earlier to church. Underneath were black double-seam stockings and high-heel stilettos.

When she pulls him closer, his hands find purchase around her waist while hers wrap around his neck. They sway together to the smooth harmonies of the song. He twirls her which garners a giggle and he takes her breath away when he dips her, holding onto her waist and raised leg. When they come back up together, they’re somehow closer than before.

The sultry tones of the next song changes the ambience in the air immediately. Kiara’s eyes veer up into the eyes of her husband. Eyes that have already darkened. She pushes lightly into his chest, sending him towards the couch.

“You’ve been working so hard lately, mi corazon,” Kiara expresses. She leans over him, leaving quaint kisses along his neck. Those kisses punctuate between her next words. “You. Deserve. A. Treat.”

She can see his body continue to relax and unravel as he sinks further into the sofa. She stands upright again and begins swaying to the rhythm. Her hips careen while her hands dally over the fabric of his shirt that she’s wearing. It slowly leaves her shoulders and she can see Horacio’s eyes follow the slipping material. She holds onto it while lifting a leg onto his. She lets him grab on it, letting his hands slide over the nylon fibers of her stockings. And then removes her leg.

Kiara expects an annoyed scowl, but he merely chuckles. His expression is lit with amusement.

“You like to toy with me, hermosa.”

Without missing a beat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

She continues rolling her hips until she’s sitting low on the coffee table behind her. She raises her leg again and makes a show of removing the garter fastened onto her tights. When she throws it, he catches it without flinch or hesitation. His eyes don’t leave her as he balls the stocking up and tosses it to the side. She’s taking the other off now and kicking off her heels before rising back up.

Horacio’s hand twitches, jumpy with the need to touch his wife. His sigh is light and full of high spirits. His eyes are dark with arousal but also entrancement. It’s a look she sometimes catches him wearing, not privy to the fact that he sometimes finds himself aghast with her beauty.

Kiara spins sensuously, jutting her ass towards him before allowing the white button to slip further from her frame. The straps of her black lacy bra become visible and she turns back to watch his eyes glued to every inch of skin she reveals. His hand rubs himself, finding limited room in his pants as his arousal grows.

The shirt drops to the floor and it’s taking everything for Horacio not to grab her up. Kiara turns back around and continues her strip show, playing with the straps of her bra. She smiles at him, allayed with how every ounce of stress has left his body. The only tension in his body seems to be centered within his pants. She’s enjoying tantalizing him, but grants a bit of mercy by stepping towards him and allowing him to touch her.

His hands immediately grab hold of her hips and she snickers with glee as she stumbles from his tight hold. He keeps her steady and their foreheads press against one another.

Their lips finally meet after all the teasing and she’s powerless against their kiss. He always had a way of paralyzing her with his kisses, sending her to another universe. It’s a kiss that she loses herself in, unaware of how much time has passed. The demand for oxygen necessitates that they separate but their heated embrace is in no way paused. His hands explore everywhere he can touch. Kiara takes off the T-shirt that he’d been wearing since stripping out of his white button down from earlier. When they’re close together again, he can feel her nipples poke through the laced material of her bra.

Soon enough, Horacio’s taking down the straps and blindly reaching back to unclasp the flimsy material. She grinds against his thigh and even through the material of her matching black panties and his slacks, he feels her warmth.

He hums with pleasure with his lips returning first to her lips, but then to her neck, and finally down to her breasts. His tongue swirls around one of her nipples and she grinds further onto him. They work together to remove the rest of the garter and then her panties are the last to go.

He hisses, “You spoil me so much, querida.”

“Always deserved,” Kiara responds. When she lifts up off him, she wastes no time dragging his slacks down and then boxer briefs.

She’s too focused on getting back to his lips and receiving another one of those earth-shattering kisses that she yelps when she feels him cup her. His fingers are delicate as they explore her core, maneuvering with a proficiency that only he has.

Kiara tugs on his lip when their kiss breaks again and she breaks out into a moan when he finds that sensitive bundle of nerves. Not wanting to be out done, her kisses are back to trailing down his body going lower and lower until her head is in his lap.

Throughout their time together, she’s found that there’s nothing quite like how she’s able to make him unravel in roils when she puts him in her mouth. At first, it’s tender kisses but pretty soon, she’s licking up and down his length, and finally taking him fully in one go.

His hisses and groans are a force of nature. There’s nothing like it for her. His left hand is grasping sweetly at her head, guiding her as she takes him further. His right hand finds hers and they clasp together as she continues forward. He’s ready to jump to the ceiling when he feels himself touch the back of her throat.

“Mi amor, mi amor,” he mewls while pulling at her hair. She’s raising up at his insistence and can’t outrun the giggle as he grabs her up the way he’s wanted to all night and lifts her up off the couch.

He utters between breaths, “What am I gonna do with you?”

Kiara grinds on his erection, “You don’t know what’d you do without me.”

Her giggles fill their bedroom when he throws her onto the bed. He stares at her for a moment, taking in her words.

“I truly don’t, vida mía.”

Their love echoes off the walls of their room for the rest of the night. Like always, it ends with Kiara feeling sated and adored and with Horacio grateful and astounded with her presence in his life.

A/N: Love to see Horacio and Kiara in their happily married era. I hope my IWBSS especially enjoyed this treat bc lord knows they deserve some happiness. I picture this taking place not long after Horacio becomes the head of the Search Bloc so their Medellin era before things get tough. Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @drabbles-mc @supersanelyromantic @mysun-n-stars @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord

#narcos #narcoctober #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #horacio carrillo x kiara nash #c: kiara nash #iwbss

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notstinky · 1 month ago

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TIMING: Current! FEATURING: Winter (@longislandcharm) & Thea (@notstinky) LOCATION: Winter's home; Oldtown SUMMARY: An unwelcome guest interrupts Winter and Thea's night snacks.

Winter’s house was beautiful; it felt to Thea like the delicate ceramic chickens her grandmother kept and she, the inevitable sliding tectonic plates. Or, maybe, a deflated volleyball laying around. (Why hadn’t she picked it up?) When she moved through the halls, she tucked her limbs in and waddled. She’d developed a new morning ritual: every day, walking up to a gorgeous view in a soft, warm bed, she took two antacids, downed a bottle of water and tried not to throw up. Guilt and stress did terrible things to her stomach and if she had a proper schedule of sleep to be ruined, it probably would’ve claimed that too. Her grandmother didn’t have the stupid chickens anymore because someone kicked a volleyball into them. Like everything Thea did, it’d been an accident, but all she could think about now were the climbing shrill tones of her grandmother’s anger. She was the sort of person that destroyed good things. She was the sort of person that ruined homes, one way or another. (Why did she think this was a good idea?)

“What’s with all the signs?” Thea asked, gesturing with her chin to the scattering of wooden posts around the lawn. She dropped the curtain and let the orange light from the setting sun battle the fabric for an invitation to dance across Winter’s floor. The house was inviting on the inside: the exact kind of renovated Victorian style Thea hoped to have in her own house one day, keeping all of the charm without any of the asbestos. The exterior, however, was a totally different beast. “I think you’re, like, one step away from just putting up an electric fence. I mean, at this point, you might as well get a guard dog too.” Thea didn’t add that she was sort of like one, if it was somehow useful to have a guard dog that was more likely to run away. At least, she felt like she’d finally gotten the hang of picking up new scents and sounds—nevermind the fact that she’d only learned how to do this because she’d attuned herself to Van, waiting for her smell, her sounds. She had no real interest in smelling Winter. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. Fortunately, Winter did smell good.

___________

Having a house guest just after moving into her new place had never been the ideal plan but Winter couldn’t let Thea fend for herself in the housing market after she had a part in destroying her other home. Even she wasn’t that mean. But the constant of having someone around in her space, especially someone who actively showed how nervous she was to just breath in the house, was irritating. She had gotten used to Henry, gotten used to sharing her life with him and letting him in on her secrets, but Thea was practically a stranger getting a sneak peak into the way she lived. She couldn’t hide the stupid way she ate her oreos at midnight (taking the cream out and only eating the cookie) or how she liked to binge stupid bro comedies when she was sad. She didn’t like that, not one bit. Thea was learning too much.

Still, she kept the fridge that had gone empty for the first month or so completely stocked and washed all of the guest towels for the girl. She’d given her a key and code to her alarm system so she could come and go as she pleased. She had even gone to the trouble of making profiles on her various streaming sites, telling herself that Thea would mess up her continued watching playlists if she didn’t. Coexisting with another was becoming a lot easier than Winter thought it would be.

Looking at the curtains as they fell back into place, she shrugged a shoulder. “I like my privacy. That’s actually not a bad idea.” She placed the peanut butter she’d been using back in the pantry before putting together the pb&j before her, a triumphant smile on her lips. It was easy but it was a start. “The fence, not the dog. My cat would have a field day once he got here.” Which Winter hoped was soon but the idea of contacting her parents wasn’t appealing. Not when she still had so many questions. “Did you want one of these? I think I’m getting the hang of the ratio here.” She wouldn’t mention that Henry had been coaching her through it…because she couldn’t mention Henry really. She didn’t think it the best idea to tell Thea about him just yet.

___________

Thea couldn’t get a read on Winter: she was extremely nice—anyone who offered their home up to a stranger was extremely nice—but she also had kinda problematic taste in movies. Extremely nice people didn’t watch The Hangover Part 3, because that meant they’d seen the first two and somehow decided that they needed more. And, of course, Thea knew this because despite Winter making a new Netflix profile for her, the allure of snooping on Winter was too strong. She felt it was very Anakin of her (Thea had watched the Star Wars prequel movies thanks to the separate profile Winter made for her on Disney Plus) but mostly the snooping was unintended; the scent of midnight oreos really wafted upwards.

Also, Winter could talk to ghosts, or see them, or smell them? Thea really wanted to ask about the specifics but felt too awkward. Winter was the sort of person who watched Horrible Bosses 2 (which of course implied that she had seen the first one and wanted more, somehow); who knew what she was capable of? “You have a cat?” Thea charged towards the counter. “Can I see your cat? Why haven’t I seen your cat? Can your cat bite me? Totally unrelated to anything, just want to know if that’s possible.” Then she could be like Felix, who maybe wasn’t a furry and was actually a cat person.

Her nose itched; something stank slightly woodsy down wind. Thea glanced down. “Oh, I love peanut butter—like a normal human person amount. Would you make me one?” It was hard to tell how annoying Winter thought she was; Thea’s version of Winter was twisted up in the movie choices. “Can I ask for extra peanut butter?”

—

“Down, girl.” Thea rushing towards the counter brought on so many images of a golden retriever looking for a good ear scratch that she couldn’t stop the words from leaving her lips. She raised her eyes to look at her as the girl went on about Winter’s cat, wondering if she missed the part where she said ‘once he got here’ in her offhand comment. The retort was on the tip of her tongue but then she got the mental image of Thea cowering next to her screaming about how she didn’t want to die and the mean remark died on her lips. She couldn’t be mean to her, not when the trauma was so fresh. Still, she knew that one day, and probably soon, she wouldn’t be able to bite back the remarks anymore. She just hoped that Thea wasn’t too sensitive if she planned on sticking around the medium’s house. Then she realized she was just staring at her without saying anything and that look probably wasn’t much better.

“No you can’t see him, he’s at my parents house right now. He’s been there since I moved here.” She didn’t elaborate, not wanting to admit out loud that talking to her father almost scared her right now. Working through things in her mind this past year, she was starting to remember details about her childhood that didn’t paint him in the greatest light. He had been hiding things from Winter for most of her life, things that her mother probably didn’t even know about, and as much as she wanted answers she wanted her idolization of him to stay intact even more. “And the question is not whether he can bite you but rather when he will bite you. He’s not friendly to anyone but me.” Which was something she had probably fostered throughout the cat's life. She liked being the only person he loved. Less competition that way.

Again, a golden retriever came to mind and Winter furrowed her brows at her house guest. “Right, a normal human amount.” Well, if that wasn’t an indicator that something was off with this girl she didn’t know what was. Still, she started to work on another sandwich, slathering more peanut butter on the bread this time, and had just finished it when the doorbell rang out. Both hers and Henry’s head snapped in the direction of the entryway to her house. She hadn’t been expecting company, annoyance creeping in at the idea of someone showing up unannounced. “Did you invite someone over?”

—

It was hard to untangle the dog traits from the human traits. Did she immediately obey Winter’s scolding because she was an anxious, obedient girl with parental issues or because of the whole werewolf thing? The answer should’ve been easy, but Thea had gotten used to blaming everything on the damn wolf, that she couldn’t tell anymore. Either way, a simple ‘down girl’ had her deflating. She had the sudden desire to chew on something, which was certainly because of the wolf and not because she had a history of gnawing and as a baby, needed to be prised off table legs, and as an adult, couldn’t be trusted around the backs of pens. Everything was definitely the wolf’s fault. “You have parents?” Thea asked with just enough sense left in her brain (blaming the wolf, of course) to not finish her thought. Somehow, Winter had given her the vibes of an orphan. A concoction of projection, Thea guessed, and trying to parse Winter and Lil’s bizarre relationship. Sure, Lil seemed to be some sort of ghost teacher, but why would someone need a ghost teacher? She’d also just recently watched Oliver Twist, thinking it was the animated one, and was haunted by the gangly boy who wanted soup. Was it a ghost teacher’s job to prevent that?

“Sorry, I mean…” Thea tried to pivot, picking imaginary dust off the counter. “That’s really cool that you have parents. And a cat.” But why? Thea bit her lip. Why did she insist on ruining things? Why did she want to prod and poke? Her mind sparked with a burst of energy and curiosity; the thing that had propelled her academic success but often spelled the end of burgeoning friendships. She wanted Winter to like her, even if Winter had seen every single Anchorman movie. All she had to do was shut up, nod a little, laugh. All she had to do was— “But if he’s only friendly with you, why did you leave him with your parents?” Damn it. Thea blamed the wolf; obviously, pre-wolf, she had amazing social skills, ignoring the fact that she absolutely did not.

The doorbell was the greatest distraction, a salvation. Thea snapped her head to the door and smiled. “Nope!” she answered. “I don’t have any friends! I mean, uh, I do. I have, like, so many, I can’t even count them. I mean, uh—Let me go see who it is.” She skipped to the door, confident that it must’ve been a delivery of some sort (but didn’t Winter have all those scary signs? Wasn’t it super clear to anyone coming up to her house that they weren’t welcome?). Thea froze. The scent of pine and ash pierced the door. The sound of a thick, phlegmy cough vibrated in her ears. It was all a little familiar in the way a delivery driver never was.

Thea recoiled just in time to catch a metal-toed boot to her chest, and several shards of Winter’s door to her face. She flew back and the door crumpled in, the hulking body of her ex-landlord standing at the entrance, tapping his baseball bat on his open palm. Now, he was someone that looked like they’d seen every single American Pie movie and thoroughly enjoyed them. Tall, more muscular than was natural, adorned in second-hand leather and younger than his growling voice implied, he was not a pleasant man. He’d been okay just until he decided Thea owed him money. She’d tolerated his strange texts asking her what she was up to until they turned threatening, until he wanted several thousand for the house they’d burnt down. Or, was it that the ghost had burned it down? Could she tell the landlord that?

“Nice house.” He whistled, surveying the rooms with hungry eyes, the sort of look that wanted to take. He sauntered into the kitchen, whacking his baseball bat in his hand. “One of you bitches owes me money.”

—

Before Winter could even try to process the ramblings of this girl she was walking away to open her front door as if the golden retriever owned this place. It was startling to realize that Thea almost wasn’t a guest anymore but she couldn’t even focus on that before a loud crash hit her ears, making her jump. She ran out of the kitchen, Henry on her heels, and her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. First, Thea was on the ground looking dazed, bloodied cuts adorning her skin. Second, her fucking door was hanging off the hinges as if the tasmanian devil had burst through it. Third, there was a very scary looking man standing in her house holding a bat like a bad villain from a batman movie. “What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

Henry stepped in front of her as some sort of layer to protect her. He probably couldn’t do much. Mack was dead, probably making it easier when he’d possessed her, so unless this guy was some miracle vampire who could walk in the sun that was most likely out. But he might be able to stop the swing of a bat if Winter was close enough.

She took a step back through the archway to the kitchen, her eyes flitting towards the block of knives sitting on her back counter. If she ran she could probably get to them before he could get to her but she couldn’t leave Thea like that. Winter had no idea if he would go for the girl if she ran for a weapon of her own. So, she took a steadying breath, looked back at the guy, and mustered up impossible bravado for someone in her situation. “Who the fuck are you and why did you think it was necessary to break through my door like some fucked up kool-aid man? It’s called knocking, you oversized GI Joe.”

—

Crawling on the ground, the landlord looked like a blob of black leather. Thea clawed towards the kitchen; she didn’t have a plan. If he decided to hurt Winter, the best she could do was cry passionately. There was The Wolf, but The Wolf had never been helpful; it was more likely the beast would just eat Winter. As strange as Winter was to her, as much as Winter’s taste in movies didn’t make sense, Thea really didn’t want Winter to go away. “Stop,” she croaked from the ground.

The landlord whistled again, raking his eyes over every trinket, every piece of furniture, every appliance and cabinet. He reached across the counter and took Winter’s sandwich, stuffing it into his mouth. “I owned the house that you burnt down.” Chunks of bread and peanut butter flew out of his mouth. “Or that she burnt down.” He swallowed in a thick, audible gulp. “Bitch.” He swung his bat and sent the plate, and the rest of the sandwich, flying. The shards of the plate rained on to the tile and the man erupted into a barking laugh. “You—“ He held his bat up, leveling it with Winter’s head. “Owe me money.”

He moved to the fridge; the hinges whined as he threw the metal door open. Rummaging around, upturning leftovers and vegetables, he pulled out a carton of milk and popped it open. Pressing his lips to the spout, he drank freely in more loud, wet gulps. It was only in turning around, milk dribbling off his stubble, that he noticed Winter was a little too close to the knives. “Hey,” he bellowed, lurching forward.

“Get him, Winter!” Thea threw herself around his bulbous calves, having crawled her way towards them. His legs jerked violently against her desperate grip. She wasn’t very strong, she knew, but she just needed to hold him for a while. Just a while, she reminded herself when it felt like her biceps were tearing. Just a while, she repeated as his bat swung down and delivered a series of clumsy blows against her back. Milk rained down on her head, falling into her eyes, stopping her from seeing whatever Winter was getting up to. Above, the man cursed and hissed and banged his bat around, taking whatever he could with it.

—

“We don’t owe you shit!” Thea had told Winter all about this asshole and the illegal practices that he’d been doing with his rentals. There was no paperwork tying the girl to anything, it was all under the table, so legally he couldn’t hold her to anything. Now, taking matters into his own hands was a different story altogether. Her eyes went to the bat he was now pointing at her head, to Henry trying desperately to grab onto it so that the man couldn’t swing, and she decided that for once she wasn’t going to provoke anymore than necessary. Bringing up the legalities would do nothing but piss him off more and they weren’t in a position to fight. “I’ll pay for the house, okay? I can have the money wired to you tomorrow, just leave her the fuck alone.”

The strangest thing about all of this was that she wasn’t offering to pay because she’d been the reason the house had burnt down. It wasn’t like their conversation online where this was some sort of transaction to make her and Thea even. Deep down, Winter knew she offered this way out because she somehow cared for the girl and didn’t want to see her hurt. It was weird that someone who could bother her so much had so easily burrowed under her skin when others had fought for years to do just that without success. The realization was a lot, especially when she saw Thea crawling closer to the man as he rifled through the fridge.

Warning her away would only draw his attention so Winter inched towards the rack of knives she had previously abandoned. She was just about to grab the biggest one when the man turned and yelled causing her to snatch her hand back as she jumped. But Thea wasn’t giving up. The medium watched in horror as she grabbed at his legs and yelled for Winter to do something. “Thea!”

What the fuck was she supposed to do? The bat was swinging wildly as he tried to get the girl off of him. Winter could feel the panic seeping in, that same panic that had kept her frozen to her spot with the mugger, with the poltergeist, and with the psychotic alligator man. Her roots were digging into the ground where they were ready to keep her until the bat came down and connected with Thea’s back.

That was all it took to break her out of that slowed down daze. Time wasn’t frozen anymore and she wasn’t either as she reached out to grab the biggest knife in the block before surging forward to sink it into the man’s chest. His loud scream mixed with her own rang in her ears as she yanked the blade out and brought it back, plunging it deeper into a different area closer to his neck. Blood had sprayed all over her face with that strike, Winter flinching as the warm specks covered her skin, and she stumbled back into the counter.

No, no she had been slammed back into the counter. The man had gathered enough strength to push her as hard as he could into it, the bat abandoned on the ground while he held her there. Henry was yelling at both her and Thea, as if the other could hear him, but she was solely focused on the landlord in front of her. Wild eyes kept her gaze, his hand yanking the blade out of his own chest. He might bleed out but not before he could take Winter with him. “Thea! Get out of here!”

—

Despite the amount of murder (accidental!) Thea had committed, the sight of violence still pushed a freezing river down her bones. She moved as if the world was pushing her back; clawing herself up stream. There was something unreal about violence: the knife was a prop, the blood was a movie effect. Maybe she was still flicking through Netflix, maybe this was a scene from The Hangover Part 3, which Winter had seen for some reason. At any moment, the little preview she was watching would stop and replay and the movie title would jump up and she’d move on to something else. The man lurched forward, his red face twisted with fury. There was no director to yell cut; that was really happening.

Winter stabbed him and now he was going to hurt her. He held her down, spitting a flurry of obscenities that dissolved into a violent torrent of hate. Thea suddenly realized how big his hands were, how massive he was; of course, she’d seen it before, but in face of futility she was realizing it. “But…but what about…” Her thoughts drifted to her burning house (rest in pieces) and their bodies huddled in the closet. She’d been useless then; what could she do about a ghost? What could she do about a man?

He was pulling the knife out, his skin puckered around the blade and he screamed more in anger than pain. He seemed so dedicated to stabbing Winter with the thing, blind to everything else. Blind to Thea rising shakily. She picked up his bat and swung.

She was aiming for his head—it seemed like the sensible place to hit—but against her pain, managed to connect with his broad back. He stumbled to the left and crashed into the counter. A PB&J sandwich tumbled down and landed in his bloody lap as he slumped to the tiles. Right, that was what they’d been doing before this. It was hard to imagine that moments ago, Thea was asking for extra peanut butter on her sandwich. Her landlord sputtered. He tried to get up; one hand pressed to the slick tiles and the other still clutching the knife. He pushed and bounced like a seal, spurting blood down his leather jacket, shirt, ripped jeans. He kicked wildly. Slowly, his grip on the hilt of the knife slacked and then fell away. His eyes were fixed somewhere beyond them, or nowhere at all. He stopped.

“Is he…” Thea poked his thigh with the bat and the motion carried up his body and his head—with the open eyes, the open angry, staring eyes—snapped to the other side. If he was still alive, it would’ve hurt to keep his neck like that. He continued to stare nowhere. “What do we…” Thea’s mouth was suddenly dry. She didn’t say anything else.

—

She was trying so hard to push him off of her, Winter gritting her teeth together to keep herself from yelling the words fighting to be released. The medium was about to die and she didn’t want the last thing she said to be some kind of expletive towards the jackass who was taking her with him. It was so hard though. Controlling her tongue had never been easy, especially when afraid, and as much as she didn’t regret what she’d done or telling Thea to leave, it was considerably more scary now that she’d lost sight of the other girl, hazel eyes locked on the dark blood that coated the furious man whose hand was raised to bring the knife down on her.The knife never came towards her though, the two of them jerking sideways and for a moment Winter thought that he’d slipped on his own blood as she caught herself on the edge of the counter she’d been pushed against.

But there was Thea and it didn’t take long for Winter’s mind to catch up to what had happened as she took in the sight of the bat in the girl’s hand. Her gaze darted from the girl, to Henry, and back to the guy in a heap on her kitchen floor, eyes wide with realization as they stayed glued to the latter. The desperate, guttural, choking sounds coming from the landlord slowly died away, the medium watching the life drain from him inch by agonizing inch until he slipped away entirely.

“...I think so.” Henry was next to her, checking her for any wounds that she could have gained during the fight and sighing when he saw a few shallow gashes on Winter’s skin. She hadn’t even realized she’d been cut until he ran a ghostly finger over one but she ignored it, still locked in on the dead man bleeding all over her kitchen floor. “I don’t…I don’t know.” She had no answers for this. The last person she had killed had been eaten by a giant snake so body disposal was pretty new to her. Anita, Mack, hell, even Emilio ran through her mind as possibilities for help here but there were a litany of reasons as to why none of them would work. She needed more friends who knew how to do this, a sobering thought indeed.

It occurred to her then that she might not even need a friend considering where they were. It was a town full of things that went bump in the night who would be more than happy to have something to snack on. “There are a lot of things in this town that would like a nice meal, right? Or even places where something like…that-” she gestured towards the body as if Thea wouldn’t know what she was talking about. “Wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.” Why she didn’t think to just call the police she couldn’t really say. It was self defense. Her and Thea had been trying not to get hurt. But they’d still murdered a man. There would still be consequences. “No phone calls to anyone. No internet searches. What’s a place you know of where a body wouldn’t be unusual?”

—

“A meal?” Thea tried to follow Winter’s thought but the harder her mind reached, the further away the idea went. It was obvious to her that Winter was referring to something she wasn’t privy to; she’d only just accepted the idea of a ghost. What could possibly eat dead bodies? An animal? But they didn’t exactly eat the whole thing, and anyway, it was more likely some hiker would come across it, wasn’t it? Unless Winter meant…. “Like a werewolf?” Like her? The Wolf never left much behind. “I don’t think I can—I mean, hypothetically. I mean, in theory. I mean, if one existed. Not that I would know!” Thea hunched closed to the body, smelling it, trying to work up an appetite. Mostly, she felt sick. She turned her head away from him.

“A graveyard?” she suggested, feeling stupid the moment she’d said it. “I mean, a body isn’t unusual there. But I guess that’s obvious.” She stood, clutched the counter for balance. The Grit Pit probably had some disposal techniques, but that wasn’t her job. She just picked the body parts up and sent them off with someone else. Would they drag the body all the way to her work, assuming anyone would want to help them? “The…uh…the hole?” Thea gulped. “The Allgood Death Pit? I’ve, uh, put something in it before. Someone. It smells like there’s a lot down there.”

The unreality closed around her and logic puffed out like smoke, leaving her mind empty. It was bad to confess something like that to Winter. It was bad to be so calm—that was probably the worst part. Covering it up felt like the only thing to do. Like a mess you cleaned. You didn’t call the police over spilled milk, you moped it up. A dead body was just a thing in the end. Thea blinked slowly at Winter. “You’re…hurt. Maybe we should…that first? Because…disease and also…hurt?”

—

Right. Thea didnt even know about ghosts, why would she know about other supernatural beings around here? Winter was about to correct herself but then the other asked about werewolves and she finally tore her gaze away from the dead man in front of them to stare at her roommate. She definitely knew. Nobody brought that up out of the blue…well, she might have actually. This was Thea after all, she was a little strange anyway so of course her mind could go directly towards that. But they would talk about that later after they got the corpse out of her home. “Yea…like a werewolf. Or some other creatures in the Pines.” Which she heard was crawling with things she didn’t want to see. That was why nobody should ever hike.

“An unburied body is unusual in graveyards.” Besides, the last thing she needed was some ghost walking up to them as they tried to carry this man over the gravedirt. Knowing her luck, it would tell the next undead person or medium they saw and this would be for nothing. Again, Winter was taken aback by Thea’s confession of putting a body in some kind of death pit, her brows raising as she added that to the list of things they needed to discuss after this was all said and done. How many people had this girl killed before? “If you say so. I’ll drive, you lead the way.” Of course they had to get the body to her car first…and wrapped in plastic at that. No way was she having it detailed because blood got all over the place. She already had enough cleaning to worry about when they got back here.

She looked down at her bleeding arm again and shook her head. It didn’t matter. The body wouldn’t be found so the probability of them finding her blood on him would be low. “It’s fine, let's just get him out of here.” It would be a task for the both of them, two petite girls trying to carry what felt like a behemoth out to her car. But they somehow managed after Winter had found plastic wrap left over from her move and successfully wrapped him inside of it. Henry was no help, only directing as they carried the body through her garage. Winter gripped the steering wheel after they’d both gotten situated, allowing herself a few steadying breaths before she started the car. This journey was going to suck and she knew the aftermath of this night was going to stick with the two of them forever. Trauma bonding (was that what this was) was once again going to connect her to Thea for the rest of her life…but protecting each other somehow seemed worth it.

#THANK YOU NASH FOR THIS TRAUMA #uh i mean...uh....peanut butter and jelly......#c: winter #writing #s2 #not ready for this jelly

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