deep thunder

3

If you recognize this fic, as it is an old one I posted almost a year ago, read the note below the cut and I’ll explain why I’m re-posting it now!


    Silence.

    Deafening silence filled the room, nothing but expanses of dark forest populating the screen in front of you. You were acutely aware of the hunter at your side - watching, waiting, ready for you to jump into his arms when the quite broke and teeth gnashed, music swelling and guns firing. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not this time.

    You steeled yourself for the inevitable jump scare, for the loud crack of noise and blood that would spray. You kept your eyes trained on the screen. You wouldn’t react. Would not react.

   A deep growl thundered through the silence. Branches cracked and a blood-curdling scream vibrated your whole body.

    You didn’t even realize you’d moved until you felt Dean’s chest rumble against your cheek with his unsuppressed laughter.

    “I thought you weren’t gonna jump this time?” Dean said.

    You pried open your scrunched up eyes and looked up at the man smiling down at you, his arms holding you firmly against his body and his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. You held your head high and locked on his piercing green gaze. “I didn’t, that was entirely intentional.”

    Dean smiled and paused the movie, then pulled on your leg, urging you to straddle his lap. “Oh really? And what exactly were you intending to accomplish?”

    You pushed yourself closer to him, your chest pressing against his muscled body. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to jump into your arms,” you whispered, lips teasingly close to his ear.

    Dean bunched up his hand in the back of your shirt and pulled your unbound hair over your shoulder, his nose brushing the exposed skin of your neck as his mouth hovered. “You never need an excuse for that,” he mumbled. Then his lips skimmed your shoulder, the barest touch on your rapidly heating skin sending a jolt of pleasure through your fear-tensed body.

    Your head lolled off to the side and your back arched as Dean’s kisses became more intense, opened mouthed and moving up your neck and along your jawline. It didn’t take long before his lips found yours and even less time for you to allow him to take control, to let him tangle his fingers in your hair and slip his free hand under the hem of your shirt.

    Maybe being scared wasn’t such a bad thing after all.


Main Masterlist | Halloween Masterlist

Read the Sam Version of this Fic!

*All GIFs are from Google Images*

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Ring Once

Story by reddit user Pippinacious

I’d never been good in storms, but I was even worse in hospitals, so when the choice came to go visit Nana, my ma’s mother, or stay home and brave the thunder and lightning on my own, I only hesitated for a moment before making my decision.

“You sure you don’t want to come, Hannah?” Ma asked, hovering uncertainly in the doorway leading to the garage.

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Sensory Snapshots

“the five senses” of simple, pleasant moments that capture each sign. 


ARIES IS // Fast legs and faster hearts just as dawn breaks. Numbness from scraped kneecaps and bloodied palms and the dizzying blur of quick sidewalks. Clattering of a chain link fence; dry laughter from desert throats – the kind that rises up from your lungs into your mouth, leaving the rusty taste of adrenaline on the tongue. Smoke lingering in your hair and on your clothes.

TAURUS IS // Standing in the dim light of a warm oven at 2am, messy hair and satin pajamas. Night air dancing in the curtains of an open window. A spoonful of peanut butter thick in your mouth – the sweet of baking cookies fills the room, mixing with the white noise of hushed radio. A gentle hand against the small of your back – an involuntary tugging at the edges of your lips.

GEMINI IS // Bright blue skies and big white clouds. Birds nests tucked in branches, and linens clipped on lines, hanging in an afternoon sun that will plant fresh freckles in ruddy cheeks. The whistle of laughter through gapped teeth. The smell of fresh cut grass from between bare toes, and the stickiness of thumbs wiping the pink and yellow of cotton candy from corners of crooked smiles.

CANCER IS // Early Sunday morning – soft eyes with heavy lids open slow to a familiar room, the walls bathed in shadows and faded lighting. The quiet patter of rain drops against the roof, and the deep rolling thunder. Being surrounded by the soothing scent of home and down feather pillows. The overwhelming comforting weight of blankets draped over tired bones, wrapped tight in the warmth of sleep and rumbling of storms.

LEO IS // Summer kissed skin, big sunglasses and floppy hats. Bright skies over dry fields laced with endless rows of sunflowers – the floral perfume mingling with thick July air. The hot breeze fluttering under a loose tank top, frayed cuffs of denim shorts with holes in the pockets, against your legs. Ripe strawberries in open mouths, the smiling voices of friends singing loud and off key.

VIRGO IS // Crisp, white sheets on a freshly made bed, the corners creased and smoothed down with precision and care. The smell of morning mist and steam rising from the brim of freshly steeped peppermint tea. Ticking analog clocks, rustling papers and the echo of hurried footsteps on wet pavement. The cool glass of a foggy window against your cheek. The quiet hum of waiting.

LIBRA IS // The pink of sunrise filtering through half-open blinds, cast over silk sheets. Opening windows and being greeted by the wafting scents of breakfast and pastries. Tucking hands into the pockets of a new sundress. Sidewalk sounds of birds and bicycle bells and cafe conversations. A thick, creamy smoothie with chunks of fruit stuck in the straw.

SCORPIO IS // The harvest moon, full and round and golden, peaking out from behind clouds that wisp around her like ghosts. The hollowed hooting of owls and sudden rustle of dry leaves. A breeze that raises goosebumps under sweater sleeves. Rich, dark chocolate on your teeth, and lungs full of crisp autumn air – the eerie peaceful of nighttime.

SAGITTARIUS IS // Speeding down an empty road, windows down, wind in your hair and squinting eyes. Crackling bonfires on a river bank, embers dancing as the sun slips behind the horizon. Marshmallows melted to the roofs of mouths – smell of fireworks, and mud on damp skin. The chirping of crickets and boisterous conversations of close friends.

CAPRICORN IS // Midnight all alone – soaking in the almost silence of fresh snowfall. Glowing street lamps illuminating crystallized puffs of breath and streets coated in sparkling, powder white. The burn of hot, black coffee on your tongue and warmth of the cup through knitted mittens on your hands. The still, winter air full of aged evergreen.

AQUARIUS IS // A little shop in your hometown you never noticed before. Dusty books in foreign letters and saturated fabrics, old typewriters and odd lamps. The unique vibration of a phonograph drifts through air that smells like ginger, and something that can’t quite be placed. It leaves spice on the tongue. Tingling of curiosity buzzing under the skin.

PISCES IS // A midday picnic on the beach. Sunshine glittering on the sea, its shore decorated by delicate shells and colored umbrellas. Toes sinking slowly into wet sand as waves wash over them, the rhythmic ebbing and flowing of tides. Distinct scents of sunscreen and sea foam – the sweetness in a juicy mouthful watermelon. The haze of a dreamy day.

Summer Heat Part 4

Ready to get fucked up? Cuz you’re gonna get fucked up. Well. I hope so.

Synopsis: A fic where you and Shawn are camp councilors and you hate his guts. Sexual tension ensues.

Part 1  | Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 (you are here)


It’s just after midnight when you hear thunder shake the cabin. You sit up out of a dead sleep and look around just as another flash of lightning illuminates the room and is followed by a deep rumble of thunder. Rain starts pounding the old roof of the cabin and it is so loud you don’t know how Shawn could possibly be asleep.

You lay awake, staring at the curtain where the lightning seems to be constantly lighting up the sky. There was no way you were getting back to sleep. Storms like this always made you anxious, and the fact you were in a cabin that was more than twenty years old really didn’t help that anxiety. What if the wood stilts gaveway? What if the roof caved in? What if lightning struck it? The possibilities your brain came up with was endless.

On top of all that, you were worrying about the kids. Were they okay? What if their cabins got damaged? Had the director had the overnight crew move the kids to the main hall? What about clean up in the morning? If you didn’t get some sleep you would be useless if there were branches to clear away and debris to clean up.

“Hey,” Shawn says into the quieting room as a clap of thunder receded into the night air. You aren’t sure you actually heard him say something until he says “Hey.” again, but louder.

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Cait - She really thought this gig would be easy; go to that building which was once, according to Sole, a very expensive restaurant, get back some ruddy old book from a group of raiders and proceed to return it to this loner ghoul guy, which was now living in Sanctuary. She wasn’t expecting those raiders to be as crazy as a bag of molerats, nor she expected there would be so many of them. They did get the book, but by time they were exiting, hell broke loose. A bloody chase started and Cait felt like a rabbit being persecuted by a pack of dogs.

Sole made a sharp turn and Cait copied it only to have her wrist grabbed and was dragged into what looked a tube. It was a tight fit, but Cait didn’t have time to shift into a more comfortable position as there was a strange noise and a door closed. Cait was enveloped in absolute darkness. From all the running, her skin was on fire and she was breathing heavily. Not to mention she was squeezed so close to Sole, shfel- uld feel their breath on her cheek. The small space got even hotter for her and she didn’t dare to say anything. After a few minutes, Sole spoke: “I think we’re clear.” She could feel the vibrations of their voice and it made her shiver a bit. The door was open and she got out, her knees a bit weak. The cool air of Commonwealth hit her pleasantly as she looked around. Indeed, there were only the two of them, nobody else in sight. “Damn chem-heads,” she swore, and set off to Sanctuary, Sole following close behind.

Curie - Curie felt intrigued by radstorms, lightnings cutting through the dark green sky and deep thunder that seemed to move the whole ground. However, after being transformed into a body which wasn’t resistant to radiation, the storms have lost a bit of their magic for Curie. “Um, do you think we could stop for a while, I am not feeling very good.” Sole looked around. They were literally in the middle of nowhere. Looking through the scope of their sniper rifle, they finally saw something. A Pulowski shelter. It wasn’t the optimal solution, but it would do. After all, these things were meant to last. Without a word, they took Curie’s hand and put her arm over their shoulders. Their own arm supported her waist and they swiftly set off for the shelter.

Curie felt her face heat up a bit, but said nothing. Sole opened the door and Curie staggered in. She turned a bit and was meet with Sole’s face, inches from her own. She flushed further and Sole closed the shelter door and put the two of them into darkness, which was Curie grateful for. Darkness calmed her down, for some reason, as did small spaces. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she’d spent most her life in the Vault. She unconsciously leaned into the body before her, Sole was so warm, their presence so reassuring. Curie flinched a bit, when she felt their hand on her shoulder, drawing small circles there. She felt herself go red again, but didn’t say anything, enjoying the closeness.

Danse - He didn’t like the idea of going into such enclosed space one bit. Sure, they were being chase by gunners and the only reason said gunners weren’t dead by now was the fact Danse wasn’t wearing his power armour. He didn’t agree to Sole’s opinion, that this job would be easier without it, but he had to admit that being sneaky in a gigantic metal suit might not be an easy task. He swore under his breath as he reluctantly took Sole’s hand and hoisted himself up into the metal coffin.

They barely fit there together, his chest was squeezed tight against Sole’s back and Danse could feel their heart beating alongside his own in rapid speed. He exhaled deeply, his hot breath warming Sole’s neck. In the darkness, he could feel his hand being squeezed by a bit smaller one: “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in a bit,” said Sole, in a calm voice. Danse hoped so, he has never been so close to Sole before and now he could feel their every movement, even before they did it. The sounds from outside died and he noticed Sole holding their breath, to hear better. A button was pushed and the door opened, giving them crush radioactive air. They must have looked comical, trying to push themselves out of the small shelter, but Danse didn’t really care; he was a bit flustered about the whole situation and was glad to have some space to think about it.

Deacon - “You can’t be serious,” was the first thing he said after Sole moved their head towards the Pulowski shelter. Sole looked at him with a bored expression: “Do you have any better ideas, wise guy?” Deacon let out a sigh and went to open the tube shaped structure. He got in and Sole climbed after him. The radiation from the storm was moving the arrow on their Pip-Boy Geiger counter seriously high and he could see they were getting paler by the minute.

“Not exactly what I imagined under ‘Seven minutes in Heaven’,” said Deacon after the for closed and he could no longer see their face, which was metre inches from his own. Sole chuckled and he felt the vibrations in their chest as they did. With some difficulty, he put his hands on their face. “Deacon, what-uh, what exactly are you doing?” Sole said in a confused, yet entertained voice. Deacon hushed them and spoke: “I’m seeing if I would be able to recognise you, if I went blind.” He could almost see their eyes rolling and let out a laugh as he traced his fingers over their cheeks, forehead, eyes (Sole ‘ouched’ when he accidentally poked their eye with his fingernail), then nose, chin and finally their lips. Then he pinched their cheeks and they giggled.

The last thunder rolled around and after that the rain stopped, as well as the storm itself. They left the shelter, but instead of carrying on to their original destination, Deacon pulled them close to him again, staring at them. Sole was just about to ask what is it now, but Deacon spoke first: “Aah, I knew I felt a scar there!” He pointed to a tiny, barely visible scar under their chin. Now he actually could see Sole rolling their eyes and he grinned. Walking away, he made them tell him when and where did they get said scar.

Hancock He couldn’t deny it was very intimate, stuck in such a tight space with such a gorgeous person Sole was. Sure, they were super mutants searching for them, shooting at random objects, as if that ruined tree could be a puny human and a ghoul, but their radiation fried brains couldn’t imagine that said people might be in the only thing around that could contain them. Sole had their back to him and he could feel them shivering a bit under the effects of adrenaline pumping through their veins. He didn’t think it was appropriate what he was about to do, but then again, he never was appropriate. Hancock’s hands found their waist and he started massaging it. They tensed a bit before relaxing into his touch.

He continued stroking their waist, before going to their hips, gently swaying them. He felt rather daring, he wasn’t met by any resistance from them and he swore he even felt them leaning to him, so he used the situation and let his ruined lips touch their bare neck. They let out a small gasp, but didn’t pull away. Hancock continued to plant butterfly kisses on the soft skin, enjoying the darkness and silence. Silence? He pulled away just a little, so his mouth was still ghosting over the slightly damp skin, “The muties are gone,” he said softly. Sole shivered under the words spoken right next to their artery. “Yeah. Have been for a while,” they said. Hancock grinned against their neck. As they made no effort to let them out of the shelter, he took it as an invitation to shower them with affection for a little longer.

MacCready - “Oh crap…” said the lanky sniper quietly as he swiftly grabbed Sole’s wrist and pulled them back. They turned at him and mouthed ‘What’s up’ and MacCready answered in a whisper: “That’s David Fergusson,” he pointed to this tall, muscular raider standing on a balcony of a nearby building. He suddenly turned their way and MacCready scurried to get them out of sight, unconsciously getting them both into a conveniently placed Pulowski shelter. He closed the door behind them and continued, “We used to run together for a while. But he got too… extreme, so I stole his cap stash and bailed. And well, he probably wouldn’t be too happy about me popping up to say hi.” Only now he noticed how close they were and instantly went tense.

As time went by, he started seeing this person who was slowly becoming 'the legend of the Commonwealth’ in a different light, in a more-than-a-friend kind of way. He had to suppress a chuckle as he remembered he had a thing for legends. He remembered that mungo, who once came into Little Lamplight, seeking an entrance to a vault there. They did become a legend. His name being said had kicked him out of his thoughts. Once again, he was reminded of their situation and of how close they both were, their noses almost touching. “Yeah?” he managed to say. “Not that I didn’t enjoy you being this close to me, but this thing is broken, we’re running out of oxygen.” Only now did he notice the fact it has become a bit hard to breath. He pushed the button to release the door and almost fell out of the tube. Luckily, they grabbed his wrist to support him. Very quietly they crept away from the building. Old affairs can wait a bit longer, MacCready thought.

Nick Valentine - He damned his fans for whirling so loud as his chest was pressed tight against their own. But what can you do, when you have 50 feral ghouls and 15 bullets? He and Sole hid in one of those pre-war personal shelters. They were built to accommodate only one person, true, but they somehow managed to squeeze in. He wasn’t too concerned about the ghouls, the pack of them seemed to be moving with purpose. That seemed strange to him, considering the radiation melted brains the ghouls had, but it was better not to mention it. What did concern him though, was how much he enjoyed having them this close. If he had a normal human heart, it would be thumping in a crazy speed right now.

He tried to joke a bit: “This would be rather romantic, be it a different situation, huh?” He felt Sole’s chuckle before it left their lips. “Why a different situation?” was all they said before he felt their perfect lips on his own rugged ones. On instinct, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the left. He felt as if he was overheating, just from the kiss. Their hand went to his throat and then his cheek. As light headed as he was, Nick pushed them into the wall behind them, deepening the kiss. Unfortunately, Sole needed oxygen, so they pulled away after what felt like an eternity. Nick could actually feel their heart hammering like crazy against his own chest. Few more kisses were shared before the only thing they heard was silence. The door was opened and Sole got out. They turned to face him and Nick could see their cheeks bearing a crimson hue to them. They smiled and extended a hand his way, hand which he happily took.

Piper - “This is, uh, awkward,” she said, red from head to toe. They were so close she could feel their breath warming up her already hot cheeks. Her mind was screaming at her to just stop talking, 'cause it felt like she was embarrassing herself even further. She couldn’t help it, though. For someone who woke up after being frozen for 200 years, only to find themselves without their spouse and child, they were dealing with the wasteland like a boss. They were like a superhero for Piper. Despite their own troubles, they still went and helped out everyone who needed help, without a word. Which was kind of the reason they got stuck in this thing, really.

Bloodbugs, bloatflies and giant ants… Real lovely. Sole hoped that things would calm down a bit, if they his for a while. Sure, Piper did hear the various buzzes growing fainter and fainter by the second, but it didn’t help the fact her whole body was on fire from the closeness. “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here before you know it,” they said and it took Piper a moment to realise that they were answering what she’d said earlier. It must have only been a few seconds, but for Piper it felt much longer. “Hey,” they said, grabbing her hand in the darkness. She flinched, but turned her attention to them, “we’ll get out of this thing and run like hell. OK?” Piper uttered a soft 'ok’ and Sole started counting down. The button was pushed and they basically dragged her along, their hand still squeezing hers. They turned to look at her and Piper saw that they were laughing. Seeing them so giddy while running away from gigantic bugs, hand in hand, as if they were children running away from security guards; she couldn’t help but laugh too.

Preston - “I don’t know, general. These things are meant to be used by one person,” said Preston, nervous look on his face. Sure, they could probably fit in, but the thought of himself and Sole being squeezed against one another like that, for who knows how long… He was long aware of his feelings towards them and he was ready to never act on them. He was very much afraid of rejection, be it because they just don’t feel this way about him, or that they still aren’t over their spouse. And to be so close to them, he wasn’t really sure he could handle it. “Preston, please, there isn’t any other thing around here that could be used as shelter. And you can’t possibly tell me you’re not feeling a bit ill too.”

Preston did feel a bit ill, radiation from the storm seeping into his system, but it still felt like a better solution than this. “Come on, Preston, I don’t bite,” they called. He grunted and climbed into the metal tube. The door closed and total darkness surrounded them. Their chest was warm against his own as was their breath he felt against his cheek. They smelled of gunpowder, soap and something Preston couldn’t identify, but he knew it was a smell characteristic to them. He hoped he wasn’t breathing too heavily, but it seemed to him their smell enveloped the whole shelter. It was way too pleasant. “Are you okay? You seem a bit tense,” they spoke, their hands going for his shoulders, massaging them. It was too much “General, I…” was all he managed to say, before he pushed his lips against theirs. As soon as he realised what he had done, he pulled away again. “I’m so sorry!” he almost yelled. Their grip on his shoulders didn’t falter, though. “Sorry for what, Preston?” He could hear the smile in their voice. He thought that he might be imagining it, or dreaming. Either way, he didn’t want it go to waste and swiftly kissed his general again. And again.

X6-88 - He really saw no reason he should get into the tight shelter. He did have enough ammunition for both of them, but Sole insisted they needed a bit of a breather. So he complied, closing the heavy door behind him. He head some rummaging, then the uncomfortable sound of needle breaking skin, then a quiet 'whoosh’ as Sole let the Stimpak do it’s magic. Then a quiet sigh as Sole’s pain was fading away. They were so close, X6 could literally feel the sigh before they let it out. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but he was restless. Out there, he could protect them, but here they were sitting ducks. Sure, the thing was heavily built, but he didn’t see one surviving missiles, or mini-nukes. He actually didn’t see anyone firing a missile or a mini-nuke at it in the first place, but still. That’s why he was so restless, it surely had nothing to do with them being so close, or anything like that. Oh, how X6 wanted to get out and fight instead of having to deal with his thoughts…

Rainy’s Electric Charge Spell ⚡

Originally posted by wtfchrisstuff

A jar spell to be performed during a thunder/lightning storm to increase one’s energy, motivation, and focus! This can be used for energy at work, school, during magick, or just in general. 

⚡ Written by Rainy-Day-Witchcraft 

Materials:

  • Jar/Bottle
  • Carnelian and/or Quartz
  • Bay leaf
  • Sunflower
  • Cayenne (either pepper or spice is fine)


Setting up ⚡

   During a thunder/lightning storm, collect all of your materials together and plan to head outside. In addition to your magickal ‘ingredients’, also be sure to dress in rain gear or bring a poncho! 

   A jar/bottle to contain your materials and the spell; this may also be a smaller jar, such as the ones that people use for necklaces or keychains, so that you may carry it with you whenever you need a little energy. Carnelian/Quartz, Bay leaf(s), Sunflower (dried seeds or petals), and Cayenne pepper will be the items you are putting into this jar ~ 

   Once outside with your items: choose a spot that you will be able to see the lightning or hear the thunder, feel the strong winds, and be open to rainfall. The best option is most likely a backyard, but DO NOT work underneath a tree or near a large portion of water, such as a spa or pool, as a safety procaution against the lightning! 


Performing the Spell ⚡

  • Before continuing, take some time to sit in that spot and feel your surroundings. Listen to the rain and the deep rumble of thunder, and feel the electricity in the air. Channel your magickal energies down from the power of the storm and allow them to fill your body, creating a visualized glow or static effect around your aura. When you feel ready, go on to the beginning of the spell:
  • Placing each ingredient individually into the jar, chant aloud:


“Carnelian/Quartz (whichever you’ve used) for motivation, energy, and success in my endeavors, and to constantly charge the magickal contents of this jar - 

Bay leaf for focus, and to grant me what I wish for - 

Sunflower, to give me the energy I call for - 

and Cayenne, to manifest my magickal intent speedily and enhance it’s effects with a kick!” 

Of course, you may also improvise or write your own words for this, if you’d like to personalize the chant.


  • Transfer a bit of energy into the jar. This may be done through mediation/visualization or physically, such as breathing into it, before quickly sealing the cork or lid. When I had performed this spell, I visualized small sparks of lightning coming from my fingertips to charge the entirety of the jar before I sealed the lid ~ so you can definitely get creative!
  • Now, magickally seal the jar. This may be done with a kiss, with a few final words (such as: “it is done” or “so mote it be!”) and if you feel content with the physical sealing of the jar, that’s fine too ~


And you are done! With the rhythm of the thunder and the storm, shake the jar; mix up those ingredients, enhance their power, and urge them to begin working your magick! You can dance around in the rain while doing this, stomp around on the wet earth, or perhaps sing a bit ~ This would also serve as a grounding exercise, so I do recommend something along these lines! 

Now whenever you need a little boost of energy, motivation, or focus, shake up your jar and let the spell once again enhance these things. Littler jars may be held with you and shaking throughout the day, and bigger jars should be shaken in the morning and left in your room or windowsill for the day’s effects ~ With my smaller jar, I find it useful to visualize sparks forming inside while I shake it


Please let me know if you have any questions or comments about the spell here, and I hope you enjoy and find it useful!

➺ Rainy

@andromedainwonderland said:

Teen Wolf-Scooby Doo, as in, the Teen Wolf crew driving around in the Jeep solving supernatural mysteries. Just me?

So I don’t know what this is, but this fic turned out to be my ARCH NEMESIS, so, you know, make of that what you will. It’s even alternating POVs, which I haven’t written in years upon years. So please appreciate how much this story wanted to kill me, and how we’re still eyeing each other with open hostility from different corners of the room.


The groundskeeper has gnarled, knotted fingers and rheumy eyes, and it takes five hundred years for him to turn the key in the rusted padlock.  The gate creaks almost as loud as his bones, and Derek flicks an ear in irritation.

“That’s a big dog you’ve got there,” he says, only mildly curious.

Stiles buries one hand in the scruff around Derek’s neck. “Not sure he is one,” Stiles says, and Derek cocks his head up at him.

Scott has the van idling behind them.

Derek takes a deep breath and sneezes. Decay, old blood, and sulfur flood his senses—he whines softly. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

The old house looms in front of them, stone and spires, ominous, cloaked in shadows thrown by the nearly full moon. His skin ripples under his fur, uneasy, and he tucks his tail between his legs.

“Relax,” Stiles murmurs to him. “This is easy money, right? A simple salt and burn.”

Derek huffs, knocks into Stiles’ side as he hastily turns around, and then slinks back to the van. He doesn’t like this place. He never likes haunted places, too much lingering despair that stirs up old guilt, but this house feels like it’s made out of skeleton bones, dread sits like a stone in his belly.

Lydia already has the side of the van open. He hops in, slides past Kira, and then digs into Stiles’ open duffle, buries his snout in an old t-shirt that smells a little bit like Scott, too.

“Dude,” Stiles says when he climbs in after him. “Come on.”

Derek growls, low in his throat, and Stiles backs off with a huffy, “Fine, be that way.”

The van grinds into gear and rolls forward slowly, tires bumping over the cobblestone drive, and Derek feels like his chest is caving in.

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Writing Prompt #50

Pairing: Fred x Hermione

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop to feel the rain?”

-o-0-o-

Fred Weasley, rougish grin settled effortlessly upon his face, stood holding an over large umbrella over himself and the bushy-haired friend of his youngest brother protecting them from the downpour that had erupted from the sky a few moments earlier. He was pleased with himself for having the forsight to bring the raggedy thing, especially since the young with at his side had neglected to check the weather for the day, leaving her bright pink from embarrassment.

Fred found he rather liked that color on her.

The girl in question softly cleared her throat, wringing her fingers together and peeking out from behind her curls. “How…Far is it back to the Burrow, again?” She asked, a flash of lightning causing a slight tremble to crawl across her skin.

Fred’s grin widened as he chuckled. “Just a few minutes and we’ll see it out past those trees, there. You almost made it back before you got lost.”

This resulted in a frustrated sigh as Hermione reached up a hand to bury her fingers in her hair, pushing the brown locks back away from her face with a huff. “I’m sorry you had to come look for me. Ronald just makes me so angry, sometimes! I mean, does he have to be so obtuse!?”

This resulted in a loud bark of laughter from the tall red-head. “Ah, Ronniekins. Poor, sweet, not-all-that-bright brother o’ mine!” He lowered his eyes again just in time for a roll of thunder to send another shudder across Hermione’s shoulders. He tilted his head to one side, his smile fading slightly into a ponderous expression. “Are you cold, Granger?”

The witch let out a soft laugh herself before shaking her head. “No, the chill is nice. Besides, I came out to cool my head.” She stopped moving, then, peeking out from under the umbrella as Fred stopped as well, turning to look back at the girl he had been charged to find and bring back home safely.

“Granger?” he started to ask before she rather suddenly darted out from under the umbrella with the sound of thunder rumbling over head. He jerked as though he meant to follow her, to try to get her back under their shield from the rain, but he paused, staring at her in surprise.

Hermione hand thrown her hands out to either side and tilted her head back so she could face the sky as she slowly spun in place. She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, a smile crossing her features as raindrops left trails across her skin. She was, very quickly, becoming soaked in rainwater.

“Granger, what are you doing?” Fred asked, laughter surrounding the words as he stood with his free hand in his pocket, watching the witch with amusement.

Hermione let out her own laugh, bending forward a bit before continuing her slow rotation. “I’m feeling the rain!”

Fred tilted his head to one side, considering her again, eyes sparkling. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain ?!” he asked.

“Yes!” the younger teen replied, pausing her spin to face Fred with a smile.

“I thought you hated the rain. You always run when it rains.” Fred said, taking a few, slow steps toward her.

Hermione shook her head, her curls drenched and beginning to dangle along the side of her face. Fred’s eyes focused onto one lock of hair that had plastered itself along her cheek. “That’s only when I have books. The rain could ruin them.”

“Ah!” Fred breathed as he reached Hermione. “Of course, silly me. Your ever present books! Must protect them.” He reached up to tug the brown strands of hair away from his companion’s cheek before tucking his hand back into his pocket.

Hermione blinked at the unexpected contact, her eyes flitting around as her brain processed it before returning to his face. She cleared her throat once again as Fred’s grin widened, becoming more mischievous at her reaction. The girl took a few steps back from him, returning to the rain. “What’s the matter, Fred? Scared of the rain? Water won’t actually melt witches, you know.”

Fred scoffed a bit at that, his grin giving way to some confusion. “Whoever said water would melt witches?”

Hermione shrugged, a smirk on her face. “Read it in a book.”

Fred shook his head. “Well, that’s a ridiculous book, if you ask me. And besides…” He continued. “I have a perfectly valid and logical fear of returning to the Burrow soaking wet just to drip water all over Mum’s clean floors.”

Another bolt of lightning and the roar of thunder shook the air around them again, much closer now. Fred turned his attention back to Hermione, knowing that tremble would be there again. And it was, shaking her whole body. She tilted her head back and took a deep breath as the thunder rolled across the clouds and she released the same breath only after it stopped. “I love thunderstorms. Come feel the rain with me, Fred.” She peeked at him from one half-closed eye as a smirk slid across her lips. “I promise to dry you off before Mrs. Weasley finds you dripping puddles in her floor.”

Fred shot her a grin back and shrugged, snapping the umbrella shut and tossing it aside. “Ah, why the hell not?” And his hands came out to his sides to, as he watched Hermione, his fingers brushing lightly against her own as he raised them to the sky, welcoming the rain. The bright flush spread across Hermione’s cheeks again, but she didn’t pull away. Fred decided he rather liked the rain, too.