This book has imagines about Norman Reedus and his characters.
I take requests. I will wright any kind of story you would like.
I also do smut. So be prepared there will be smut in this book.
I hope you enjoy!!
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"Bailee! Getcha fuckin' ass in here and make me some fuckin food!" Mac yells the second he gets in from the truck.
The girl he's screaming at hastily enters the kitchen, wearing denim shorts, a tank top, and her frizzy bleach blonde hair in two braids.
"Y'all hollered?" She says mildly, entirely unshaken by his menacing glare and foul temper. He looks every bit the killer: coveralls, a knife stashed in his belt, a gas mask dangling from one hand.
Bailee says nothing more, just fishes a skillet out from under a pile of pizza boxes, shoves trash off the stove, and produces a pack of beer from a cupboard.
Once she's gotten some food and beer into him and he's taken a fresh hit from his little silver tin, his temper quells.
"What ain't ya sleepin'?" He demands.
She wants to be sarcastic and say 'because some fucker kept me awake!' But she's not stupid enough.
"I was waitin' for you..." She says, big dark eyes on him, taking in his rough, scary appearance.
"Th' fuck for?" He says through a mouthful of beer.
"I don't sleep well when you ain't here... Always think the cops are gonna come breakin' the door down..." Bailee leaves out the part where she can't physically sleep when he isn't beside her, passed out drunk or actually sleeping.
"Ain't no cops gonna break down the fuckin' door. Don't be fuckin stupid." He goes to spit on the ground but stops himself at the last minute.
Bailee's lazy but she makes an effort to keep the place clean enough. It makes her smile when he stops himself from spitting on the ground, shows he's making an effort.
"You comin' to bed?" She asks, standing, dumping the dishes in the sink.
"'N a minute, baby girl," he mumbles, tossing the gas mask onto the counter. She runs her hand through his shaggy hair on her way out of the kitchen, ignoring his growled threats.
It's maybe twenty minutes before he comes into the bedroom, stumbling a little.
"Y'all need a hand?" Bailee is peeking out over the blanket at him as he cusses, arm caught in his coveralls.
"Nah."
Moments later the bed springs - or what's left of them anyway - creak as he throws himself down onto it.
"Ya need to fuckin sleep more," Mac tells her, "ain't no use in ya if ya got no fuckin energy."
Bailee considers this for a moment- it's still hard to tell whether he's actually concerned or whether he just cares about getting laid. Probably both, considering it's not difficult for him to find girls to fuck. After all, despite looking - and being - terrifying, he's damn handsome, charming... Alluring.
