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!!
CREDIT TO: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_is_the_ghost/pseuds/tender_is_the_ghost
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"No!" yells Klarissa, staring at her reflection in the changing room mirror, "No way, nuh-uh, not happening, nope!"
"Klarissa!" her mom's tone is strident through the locked door, "get your butt out here, right now, or so help me God..."
Klarissa sticks her tongue out at the closed door, then sighs and unlocks it, stepping from the relative safety of the changing room into the harsh glare of the wedding boutique's fluorescent lights.Her appearance is met with a collective chorus of 'oohs and aahs' from her family gathered around outside. She looks in disbelief, first at her mom and then her aunt and two cousins, one of whom is fighting back tears while the other one seems to be having some kind of seizure.
"You're kidding, right? This is some kind of cruel joke?"
"Hush, Klar, you look beautiful," says her mom, moving in to tweak at the voluminous fabric covering Klarissa's torso.
"Stunning," adds her cousin, wiping away her tears, "it's just as I imagined it."
She starts bouncing on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together as Klarissa turns miserably to look at herself in the full length mirror beside her. All she can see is layer upon layer of pink – pink frills, pink lace and, the crowning glory, a giant pink bow tied at the back of her waist. The dress has no rhyme or reason to it, as if Barbie threw up a rainbow of ideas in a design studio and somebody shoved all the pieces into one pattern. She grits her teeth as her mom and aunt fawn over her, locking eyes with her giggling younger cousin in the mirror and shooting him a death look. He has no idea how lucky he is to be a boy, she thinks bitterly.
"Don't you think it's a little... well, a little..." She searches desperately for the right word – heinous? A crime against fashion? Spun from Satan's spindle? – "pink?" she finishes, lamely.
"Pfft, no it's perfect, Klar," says her cousin, coming to stand beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist. "The little ones are going to look so cute in theirs too."
"Exactly! I'm your maid of honor, don't you think I should have something a little more... grown up than the others? A little more fitting for my role?"
"Everyone has to match, Klarissa, or what's the point?" she can hear the tremble in her cousin's voice and see the tears starting to form in her eyes. She sighs inwardly and plasters a fake smile on her face, knowing that the last thing she wants is to ruin her cousin's wedding. She squeezes her cousin's hand and is rewarded with a bone-crushing hug that leaves her breathless.
"Okay, okay," she says, untangling herself from her cousin's happy grip, "Don't wrinkle my dress."
She turns and heads back to the changing room, trying not to trip on the hem of her gown as she shuts the door behind her, leaning against it and looking at her pitiful reflection in the mirror once more.
"I guess it's not all that bad," she mumbles, pulling on the puffy sleeves, "I mean, it's not like anyone is going to see me in it apart from family."
And that's when realization hits her in the face like a slap and she sinks to the ground, pink taffeta pooling around her as she buries her face in her hands and mutters one last word.
He's waiting for her when she gets home, laying on her bed reading a book, his eyes never leaving the page as she shuts the basement door behind her and kicks off her shoes. He only acknowledges her presence when she flops on her back on the bed next to him.
"Hey Kitten," he says, leaning over to plant a small kiss on her nose, "how did it go?"
"Oh, fine," she replies, keeping her voice light.
"That's good." His attention has already returned to his bookand Klarissa smiles, loving the way he gets lost in everything he does. She lets her eyes roam over his features, his tousled, untamable hair sticking up over his ears, the little line creasing the skin between his eyebrows as he concentrates on what he's reading, the arc of his cheekbones and the mole at his lip that makes him shiver when she kisses it.
You're staring," he says, eyes never leaving the page and she laughs, climbing up to pull the book from his protesting hands and straddle him on the bed.
"Can I help it if you're so goddamn adorable?" she asks, bending to nip at the skin of his neck with her teeth. He moans under his breath, arching his head back and exposing more of his skin to her touch. Klarissa complies, tracing up towards his jaw with her tongue, planting tiny kisses around his mouth and ending up with one tight against his mole, grinning as she feels his skin tremble beneath her.
His hands dig into her hips, his thick fingers clutching at her jeans as his mouth finds hers and he starts kissing her softly, tongue gently tracing the contours of her lips before he pushes it gently inside to stroke against her tongue. Now, she's the one that's moaning softly, hips undulating slowly against him as he opens her mouth to his.
A sound from the room above startles them apart and they look at each other, each panting slightly, as they realize where they are and that it's the middle of the afternoon. Giggling, Klarissa slides off of his lap, taking note of the impressive bulge in the front of his pants. He pulls her down to lay beside him, tucking an arm around her shoulder and tracing patterns on her skin with his fingertips. Klarissa snuggles against him, happy as always to be in his arms, her fingers idly playing with the small rip in the front of his worn t-shirt.
They lay in silence for a while, Travis has never been much of a talker and Klarissa knows she makes up for that. Without looking up at him, she takes a breath.
"You know, you don't really have to come to the wedding if you don't want to. I know I kind of forced you into it. You could stay here and read or... or sketch, I don't know."
"Its fine, Klar, don't be silly. We just drove three hours to get here, in the rain, of course I'm going to the wedding. You didn't force me to do anything, you asked if I wanted to go and I did... I do. I wanted to meet your family, Kitten, and I wanted to be with you. So, don't worry about me."
"But, you'll have to wear the suit and I know you hate that. And you've met most of my family already, the important ones at least, so there's really no reason for you to go."
Travis tilts her chin up with his knuckles so his crystal blue eyes are staring into hers.
"What's going on? Don't you want me to go with you?" he asks cautiously, the tiny worry crease appearing between his eyes once more.
