#mini-imagine

This place creeped you out. It was rather surprising since you had seen enough to know there were very weird things occupying the world. The living space of Hawthorne was illuminated only by the light of strategically placed candles and fireplaces; only adding to the unnerving atmosphere.

Walking quickly down another winding corridor, you can feel eyes on you. Knowing that if you turn around there will be nothing but air, you continue on your way to your room. Your breathing quickens as you feel the presence move closer. Just one more turn and you’ll find yourself in front of your door. 

You feel like prey running from a bloodthirsty predator. As you reach for the handle of your door, you feel the faint touch against your neck. 

“Boo!”

Screaming, you turn only took catch a glimpse of blonde hair turning the corner. Laughter echoes through the hall. 

‘It was him! That little brat. Two can play at that game.’ 

Transmuting to the common area, knowing he was likely to run there, you wait for him. As expected, he rounds the corner looking behind him to see if you’re giving chase.

“Gotcha!” You cheer as he stumbles back in surprise. 

“Catch me if you can,” you encourage him before you disappear suddenly.

This back and forth between the two of you may be childish to most but it was a great escape from the responsibilities of your lives. 

The pitter-patter of tiny feet is the first sign that your daughter is on her way towards you. Somewhere in the house, she has been playing while you unpack groceries.

“Momma! Help! There’s a monster!” A frightened (Y/D/N) screams as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. Your heart jumps, fearing that there is an intruder following behind her.

That fear is quickly quelled when she rushes to hide behind your legs giggling along the way. Knowing what game she is playing, you instruct her to stay hidden on the other side of the kitchen island. Seconds later, Michael comes into view making what you assume are supposed to be ferocious growls.

“My love, you wouldn’t happen to know where (Y/D/N) is, would you?”

“Hmm. No, but I believe I saw her run that way,” you reply, pointing down the hall towards his office. Infectious giggles can be heard behind you and Micheal’s smiles widens at the sound.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to go look somewhere else,” He says loudly as he slowly approaches where your daughter is hidden.

Not expecting him, (Y/D/N) squeals in fear and then delight when Michael picks her up and spins her in the air. Tickling her sides, he prompts another set of giggles from her. Once he sets her down, she takes your hand pulling you with her to the kitchen door.

“Again! Again,” she says looking over at Michael, “Momma will hide with me this time! You have to find us, Daddy.”

The end of the world is a carefully planned event but that does not make it any easier for you. As the days ticked by and the end grew closer, your anxiety has steadily risen.

Silence engulfs the underground Cooperative bunker as Michael relaxes on the couch waiting to hear the bombs go off. You are not as calm. Your legs feel jittery almost numb and your hands shake uncontrollably. Thoughts of those that will not make it to safety flood your mind. The men, women, and children that will be consumed in the chaos are insurmountable. It makes you feel guilty for the position you find yourself in.

Don’t they deserve to be saved? Just as that thought crosses your mind, the faint sound of the first bomb exploding rattles through the room. Your chest tightens; your neck and face begin to tingle like hot pinpricks.

You release a strangled sob which catches Michael’s attention.

“Why?” You croak out, “Why couldn’t they be saved? Why was I chosen? Shouldn’t I be with them?”

“They’re a sacrifice, my love. They are playing their part in creating the new world.” He reassures you as his hands cup the sides of your face; thumbs brushing away the tears that roll down your blotchy cheeks.

“You’re too perfect for that ugly world (Y/N). That’s why you were chosen.”

Staring into his crystal blue eyes, you feel a wave of tranquillity overtake your senses. Hiccuping as you try to regulate your breathing, you continue to be hypnotized by his intense stare.

“You are going to help me create a better world. I need you by my side. That’s your purpose.” Michael whispers to you as he hugs you tightly.

You have a purpose.

Author’s Note: This is an Opie Winston (my very first one!!) mini-imagine written for the Quote Prompt Meme # 33 (as always the quote will be in Italics) as requested by a wonderful Nonny. Hope you enjoy! This imagine is rated a soft M for Slight Smut.

Wake Up Call

Her patience has run thin. She doesn’t know what it is, if it’s the fact that she got to see her Old Man all of two seconds after getting in from his run before he literally dropped onto the bed and fell asleep, or if it’s he’s been in the same position, sleeping heavily for the last four hours.

She understands he’s tired. Really she does.

But damn it he was gone for a week, and she wants her man. She needs her man.

Tilting her head, she drums her fingers on the mug in her hands, taking him in, and despite her annoyance she can’t help the smile that curves her lips.

He’s so incredibly handsome and because she feels the pull in her core, the pull that only he seems to bring to life in her, she sets the coffee mug on the dresser, and pulls her shirt over her head.

Her hand trails up his leg, fingers dancing over his hip and side until they tangle in his hair, and still the only movement from him is the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Ope,” she whispers in his ear, lips pressing to the spot that drives him crazy, and yet there is nothing. No sign of him waking, and her annoyance only grows. Eyes narrow, and letting out a sigh she straddles his waist, hands coming to his shoulders and despite knowing there is a real chance of being flung onto her ass, she shakes him, hard.

All she manages to gain in response is an incoherent mumble.

“Really?” she says and rolling her eyes to the ceiling she throws her head back. “Okay mister, you asked for it…”

She starts poking him square in the chest and within a few seconds Opie’s eyes are cracking open to look at her and just when she’s thinking she’s finally gotten him to wake up his eyes are sliding closed again.

“What are you doing?” his voice is thick with sleep making her insides curl tight with need.

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention,” she’s barely gets the words out of her mouth before she lets out a sound of surprise as he flips her over pressing her into the bed.

“Is this what you had in mind?” he asks face burying into her neck, lips setting to work on raining kisses up and down the column of her throat, making her smile.

“Maybe,” she says but when her hands move to touch him he cuffs her wrists in one hand pulling them over her head and holding firm.

“Maybe? You woke me for maybe?” he asks lips trailing down her chest taking the time to brush over each breast. “Maybe you had this in mind?” His hand dips into her panties, fingers finding her sweet spot making her back arch, a gasp slipping through her lips which he easily swallows by covering her mouth with his.

::

She lays trying to catch her breath, Opie’s head resting between her breasts. Her fingers trail up and down his back, completely content as her eyes slide shut. She’s on the verge of sleep when she feels Opie poking her hip.

Her eyes slide open to find him staring up at her.

With Zayn:

Estávamos correndo no meio do gramado, qualquer um que visse de fora nos chamariam de loucos, era a festa de uma das primas de Zayn, e estávamos correndo no espaço sem brinquedos, ou até mesmo entre eles, parecíamos crianças brincando de pique-pega, mas na verdade, Zayn estava correndo atrás de mim para me fazer cocegas, enquanto eu corria o mais rápido que pudia para não receber as mesmas. Até que ouço um grito, de Zayn. Olho para trás ele está caído na grama, do lado de um banquinho, daqueles estilos de praça, que agora recebia palavras não muito carinhosas de Zayn. Andei até ele e me sentei praticamente do seu lado, enquanto ele estava deitado, com a mão nos pés, massageando-os de leve.. Vc: Está tudo bem? Depois de alguns poucos segundos, ele senta pega na minha cintura e me deita, ficando por cima de mim.. Vc: Não acredito que vc fez essa ceninha toda, e eu acreditei Zayn Malik! Z: Não foi ceninha, talvez não esteja doendo tanto assim, mas eu realmente bati o pé naquele banco, só estou transformando isso em uma coisa boa. Ele dizia isso com os labios proximos ao meu, e assim como ele, meus olhos não consiguiam decidir entre olhar em seus olhos, ou para a sua boca, tão proxima a minha. Foi então que ele olhou para os lados, provavelmente para checar se não tinha nenhuma criança, ou qualqur um que pudesse atrapalhar-mos por perto, não tinha. Nos beijamos apaixonadamente.

Request - Damon Salvatore "Saviour"