#reddington/reader

[101crows]

Going To Red for comfort

‘This can’t be happening’

You repeated this to yourself yet again, as if saying it enough times would somehow make it true. The world had taken your birth parents from you and now it was trying to take your found parents too. Another car crash. Not just with one parent this time, no. With both of them.

‘This isn’t happening.’

They were in surgery and the drunk driver that hit them got off with a broken arm and a concussion. You had to see him walking around, talking to the people he loved while your parents laid touch-and-go on hospital beds. You were sure in a few hours you’d be angry as all hell, but after sobbing and screaming and sobbing all over again, all you felt was empty.

Distantly, you heard your phone ringing. It was muffled, like you had lost it under a mountain of pillows, and when you looked at it in your hand you felt a deep certainty that it was not your hand, not your body at all. You stared at for longer than usual, knowing that the word on it was real and familiar, and yet unable to recognize it or who it meant was calling. Only when the call disconnected then started ringing again did you finally register that someone was trying to call you. Reddington was trying to call you.

‘Right. Right, of course, he’ll know what’s happened by now.’

“Hello?”

“(Y/n), darling, I was worried you were ignoring me.” His voice had the same nonchalance it normally did, and yet it was marginally softer than usual. You knew it was on your behalf that he didn’t go immediately into questioning you. Somehow, he knew you would need this sense of normalcy from him, a constant in a world ever-changing.

“I could never ignore you, red.”

You paused for a moment, debating your next question.

“Where are you right now?”

The control you maintained on your voice a moment ago slipped and it became a small, scared thing begging for comfort.

“Already on my way, my dear. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You felt a wave of relief flood through you. Five minutes. You just had to make it five more minutes. Red was not a miracle worker, but you knew if anyone could help you, it would be him. He would do whatever he could to ensure your parents had the best treatment possible, and you didn’t even have to ask.

“Will you take me somewhere quiet please?”

“You should be with your parents.”

“Please, Red. I can’t be in this damn hospital any longer.”

You heard him sigh, and knew you had won. He wasn’t particularly fond of hospitals, but you downright hated them.

“Two more minutes, darling, then somewhere quiet. Dembe and I will be waiting for you outside.”

You didn’t bother staying on the phone, choosing instead to grab all your things and hurry towards the exit, desperate to leave this stupid white hellhole as quickly as possible. Dembe was waiting for you when you reached the doors, ready to take your bags and put them in the back. You didn’t even have the energy to hand them to him, just stood limply while he grabbed them from you and mumbled out a thank you. You felt like a zombie again as you trudged toward the car, then flung yourself into the seat. You slumped against Reddington, face burrowed into his shoulder.

“Is this real?” He shifted beneath you and draped an arm over your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your back.

“Unfortunately so.”

You choked back a sob and tightened your grip on his suit.

“The place we’re going… can it be dark too? I like things better in the dark.”

He let out a soft hum of affirmation and something in you realized he was already planning on it. Perhaps if both of you were different people you’d be creeped out by this, but you had long since gotten used to his surveillance. He liked to tell you one could never be too careful.

“Red? One more thing?”

He hummed again to let you know he was listening.

“The man that hit them… I want him to hurt.”

He let out a soft chuckle and draped something over your back.

“That can be arranged.”

[mrsjellymunson]

Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning. 

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards. 

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black. 

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night. 

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies, 

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so… 

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting. 

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle. 

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking, 

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.” 

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with, 

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly. 

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication. 

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly. 

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,” 

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle, 

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side. 

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed… 

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it. 

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is. 

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind. 

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here. 

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight… 

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

[phoenix--quill]

Prompt 17: Cock warming

Pairing: Raymond Reddington/female reader

Rating: E (minors DNI)

Warnings: cockwarming

Length: ~650 words

Summery: a tired Raymond wakes you up in middle of the night

Notes: I know this is short and really late but in my defence I’ve had a fever for the past two days and is currently blowing my nose every 5mins so honestly I think we should all be grateful that anything even remotely coherent made it to paper.

AO3

It was still dark when you woke up – you weren’t sure if it was early morning or late at night. You rolled over, about to go back to sleep when you heard a noise from somewhere in the apartment. You almost reached for the gun hidden below the night stand but then you recognized the footsteps. They sounded heavy, tired, but you would recognize him everywhere. You smiled and snuggled back under the covers, he would join you soon enough.

Sure enough, you heard the bedroom door open and Raymond’s soft steps as he entered the room. You heard the soft swish as he took off his jacket, the soft click of his shoulder holster as he placed it on the dresser – layers after layers you heard him take off, carefully fold and place on the bench at the foot of your bed. You felt the mattress dip as he slid in behind you and planted a kiss on your shoulder.

“Raymond,” you whispered as he ran his nose across your shoulder blades.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” his voice was barely more than rumble against your skin.

“Is everybody okay?” you asked that every time he had been away without you and his answer was usually somewhere along the same lines.

You felt him nod behind you, “everybody is home and safe.” He kept his voice low and ran his soft lips across your shoulders. You could practically feel the exhaustion roll off of him and yet he didn’t seem to be able to stop kissing your sleep-warmed skin.

He ran his nose up your neck, planting a soft kiss to your hairline before burying his face in your hair and you could feel him take a deep breath, inhaling your scent.

He groaned softly and moved even closer, your bodies now completely flush under the covers, and placed a warm hand on your hip. “Can I...?”

“Always,” you breathed with a smile and moved your leg up and back to lie on top of his. It was another one of your little rituals, especially when he came home like this: too exhausted but unwilling to be apart from you.

His hand on your hip moved up under your long night shirt – technically one of his that you had borrowed – and found the waistband of your underwear, dragging it down your legs. He grabbed your leg, hiking it further up his and opened you up to give him better access to your leaking core – making both of you groan as his fingertips brushed against you.

You felt him reach behind you and then the blunt head of his already half-hard member as he ran it through your nether lips, catching the liquid that had already gathered there. He then sank into you, slowly, both of you savouring the feeling of simply being connected in such an intimate way.

His nose returned to the shell of your ear and you heard him give a sigh as he finally bottomed out and came to a stop, his fat cock nestled deep within you.

Your own body felt heavy, both with the exquisite, pleasurable stretch of having him inside you and the simple fatigue after having been woken up in the middle of the night.

“Go back to sleep,” he repeated in your ear as he placed your leg back down against the mattress and made sure you were both covered by the duvet.

“You too,” you whispered into the darkness.

You knew you would feel it in the morning, you always did when you had spend a night with him buried inside of you, but you knew it was worth it when you heard his breathing even out before going heavy as he drifted off to sleep; both of you feeling happy and safe, tangled up in one another.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine being frustrated with Reddington again...

Red was in the middle of a very crucial case trying to deliver Elizabeth Keen information that she needed. Just as he opened a bottle of scotch, you walked into the room unannounced with a frown and your phone in hand.

“Why did you piss off Hakim?”

Reddington sighed and waved you off. “Not now, Y/n.”

“No. I’ve already bought my outfit and now he calls and tells me ‘not to bother coming to the wedding’?” You argued and looked over to where Elizabeth was standing, flashing her a smile. “Hi, Liz. How are you?”

The young woman cleared her throat and folded her arms awkwardly, caught in the middle of the feud. “We’re - uh - trying to find a chemical weapon that can’t be traced.” She explained briefly.

Reddington had poured himself a glass but found the drink quickly swiped from his fingers by a very annoyed you. Sipping the scotch, you turned to Elizabeth.

“Have you tried isolating the radiation levels to their subatomic particles? Something that small will leave a path.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she looked at Reddington. “I thought that wasn’t possible?”

You chuckled and took a seat on Reddington's sofa. “That’s because you’re not me.” Looking back at the man by the bar cart, you pointed at him. "Now, about that wedding invitation..."

~ More imagines here ~

[writingbyshiloh]

Sharp Dressed Man

AN: mutual pining with FBI's most wanted and agent! Reader has my heart idk what to tell you guys. I'll do the tag list at some point I'm just lazy

WC: 0.6k

"Where do you think you're going?" Ressler snaps at Reddington. The criminal doesn't even look phased by Ressler's attitude, instead, he just adjusts his fedora.

"Inside. That's where the criminals are, Donald." He replies, cocking his head as if to better analyze the situation. You press your lips together to hide a smile. A smile which has nothing to do with your small, schoolgirl crush on the concierge of crime. To avoid getting caught smiling, you zip up your FBI windbreaker, the only one in the group to have visible government identification.

Donald leads the way, pushing the door to Reddington. Instead of keeping with the chain, he holds the door open for you. You walk through, politely thanking him and wait in the lobby. When he follows, you allow him to walk in front of you. Having him in the middle helps keep his profile low.

To prevent Raymond from charming the receptionist, Donald leads the group, informing her why you're here (to collect files), who you represent (special FBI task force), and who the man in the suit is (a lie about how he's your supervisor). The files are only minor, nothing critical but the company's phone reception is abysmal.

You can only focus on how she smiles at Ressler, warm and slightly fascinated at what a man in a suit with an important job is telling her. You can't blame her.

"I have some files here, but most are kept in storage on the third floor." she helpfully tells the group, only glancing at you and Reddington, keeping her eyes on Donald. If he's not picking up on her hints it may be time for him to retire. She's toying with her necklace, drawing attention to her lips. Maybe you can give Ressler a shove in the right direction.

"Is anyone on the third floor?" You ask, watching her eyes draw slowly to you. Not rudely or abruptly, but in a caught-oggling way. You flash her a small smile.

"Mhmm. Lon should be up there. I can call him if you'd like." She says, reaching for her desk phone.

"You should stay here. We can go up to the third floor." You tell Donald, a slight bite in your voice so he doesn't argue. Before he can reply, slide your hand on Reddington's shoulder to get him away from the desk.

Once directly in front of you, you give his shoulders a push towards the stairs. Raymond tries to keep his breath steady as he feels you press your chest into his back. Your arms are on his shoulders, trying to move his as fast as you can. You're taking small, wide steps, being careful not to step on his shoes. He's thankful for that but in all honestly, he wouldn't mind whatever you do to him, so long as you're this close.

Once you're out of eyesight, you peel yourself off, looking sheepish. "Sorry, I saw how the receptionist was looking at him, I think she likes him."

"I understand, my dear. Something about a sharp-dressed man?" He asks, slowly acceding the stairs, with you right behind.

"Ew. He's not sharply dressed, he looks like every other FBI agent in a suit." You reply, hoping that Raymond doesn't pick up the subtext in your words, that his suits are much nicer.

He does, but for your sake keeps it to himself. Maybe he'll wear the cream one tomorrow, try and impress you.

[profeyandere]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Click if you want to go to the main Masterlist

ʀᴀʏᴍᴏɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ │ •➤ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ [coming soon] │ •➤ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ [coming soon] ╰─────────────

ᴇʟɪᴢᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴋᴇᴇɴ │ •➤ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ╰─────────────

ᴅᴏɴᴀʟᴅ ʀᴇꜱꜱʟᴇʀ │ •➤ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ╰─────────────

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Raymond Reddington Headcanons: Manipulation (+ Romantic HC with S/O) The Blacklist

#Yandere #YandereRaymondReddington #YandereTheBlacklist #RaymondReddington #RaymondReddingtonxReader #Reader #TheBlacklist #Headcanons #YandereHeadcanons 

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! Here are those headcanons I said I would do! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here and these headcanons, a mix of base and also the bonus romantic with S/O!]

(Disclaimer: Raymond Reddington is not yandere in canon, though he does have issues he is not yandere. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for fictional yanderes and characters is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. No Matter how charming they may be!)

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Raymond Reddington X GN Listener-

.Raymond is a highly intelligent individual.

.He is also very driven as well.

.On another end he has developed sociopathic tendencies, most likely due to PTSD since he was not born that way.

.With this he takes pleasure in torturing rivals and anyone who dares hurt you.

.He is very much in love with you, his past lovers never compared to you.

.He is a very sly and manipulative yandere as well.

.Thing is most of the time you cannot tell that he is manipulating you.

.As he is very charming and a professional liar.

.It is almost impossible for you to know that he is manipulating you and catching you in his web of lies.

.He also hates rude people (I wonder who that reminds me of hmmmmmm~)

. Especially if they are rude to you.

.If you are rude, you will be getting a spanking that is for sure. (You might like the spanking as well. we do not kink shame lol)

.He has no qualms with killing people, so he will for sure kill anyone that gets in the way of his love for you.

.Even his friends are not safe from his mission to have you.

.He would also spoil you silly, he adores you more than anything.

.Giving you anything and everything you needed.

.You also will be under his watchful eye and his protection always.

.No one will harm you if he has anything to say about it, which most likely he would.

.He is so kind, sweet, and loving to you.

.A side he rarely shows to anyone else.

.He is also a man of his word, when he says he will make you love him, he means it.

.He also will protect you with everything he has. Dedicating his entire being to keeping you safe, loving you, and having a family with you.

.He would confess to you in a romantic way, candlelit dinner in Pairs, a harp playing.

.It does not matter if you say no.

.He is still going to have you, at this point, you are too deep in.

.There is no way you could escape Reddington even if you wanted to.

.You are His!

-Bonus Romantic Headcanons With Yandere Raymond Reddington X S/O GN Reader

.He loves you and you love him.

.He spoils you all the time, picking up the most wonderful things for you.

.Showering you with love and affection.

.Nothing is ever going to stop him from adoring you.

.He truly adores you.

.He would be the type of partner to take you on spontaneous trips.

.Taking you Anywhere around the world to spoil you to even just a dinner.

.He loves dancing with you and showing you off.

.Though he denies showing you off of course.

.Is incredibly romantic and caring.

.If you have a craving he has that item to you within hours at most.

.He also dots on you.

.Physical touch is a big part of his love language.

.Just holding your hand or stroking your hair, or just holding you.

.He loves and adores it.

.He wants to give you the world and he will.

.Of course, you two will get married very soon.

.The most intimate but beautiful wedding ceremony.

.He would give you, your dream home, in your dream country.

.Having it as a safe haven, where you will always be safe and you both can raise a family.

.Of course, this all is almost too good to be true.

.Anyone who has hurt you in the past, even before you met Raymond. Die. Painfully.

.Anyone who tries to get you to leave him is taken care of.

.He paid off your lover before him to leave you and break your heart.

.In which he swooped in and manipulated you into being with him. You are now his and he planned it all from the very moment he met you.

.You are blissfully unaware of just how much he manipulated you and how truly dangerous he is.

.After all, ignorance is bliss.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

[iseethedead-blog1]

end of an era yn x Raymond Reddington

\I got this idea from a song from Michelle Gurrvich - end of an era, the whole song is in this

yn looks at red "I'm leaving, Berlin." Raymond looks at yn and spoke "You've been threatening that for years, but this is it, remember how we met as strangers on the street."

Yn spoke as she glares at Reddington "I said you were a creep and so began our friendship." Reddington nods "Our favorite meeting place, our favorite cafe, only so many times these eras in our lives we never realize, till come the turning of the tides."

Yn sighs softly as she spoke "now it's the end of an era, end of an era, my friend." Yn looks away from Red scared of what she'd see in red's eyes

Raymond has fear in his eyes as he spoke back "It's the end of an era, end of an era when our lives so effortlessly collide, we had good times didn't we, Yn?"

Yn nodded as she finally looked at red getting his courage up "we had good times didn't we, Red?" She smiles softly at him her eyes are light and full of happiness she was afraid to look afraid of the man's anger

Red spoke again "friendships don't end we know but time and place the river flows." He smiles softly at Yn "we'll meet in other circumstances five years we spent in a daily dance."

Yn turns away from him with the same smile on her lips "how I'd often turn and see your face from me for so long unfamiliar, it happened suddenly, a stranger you were to me." She takes a deep breath as she continued to speak "next day I looked and realize that no one knew me better, it's the end of an era, red."

Red chuckles "It's the end of an era, Yn, end of an era when our lives did so effortlessly collide, we had a good time didn't we Yn."

Yn nods and smiles lightly as she left Berlin and went to a different country going on the run far away from Germany

[thekirbishow]

GVF is in my city tonight and I’m so sad I can’t go.

[decieven]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Blacklist (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Raymond Reddington/You, Raymond Reddington/Reader Characters: Raymond Reddington, Dembe Zuma, Masculine Reader - Character, Original Non-Binary Character Additional Tags: One Shot, Reader-Insert, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Some Humor, Ambiguous Relationships, Morally Ambiguous Character Summary:

Caught in a long game & learning the rules as you go has worked well up until now. How do you stay in the game facing a veteran player whose allegiance is only to himself?

[101crows]

Invaluable Asset

AN: this could be a series, but for now I'm going to write it to be a stand alone. Please let me know if you want to see more! This takes. place in season one, sometime after episode 16. Ressler might be a little OOC.

"You're trying to tell me you don't know a single person good enough to steal these cars?"

Reddington sighed deeply, "Of course I do. But they lack a certain talent for subtlety that's necessary for this task. I'm not some type of magician, I can't just pull criminals out of my hat for you."

Cooper turned sharply. "And how exactly do you expect us to find an actor turned car thief willing to go undercover for us?"

"I can't possibly imagine how that's my problem. Either you figure it out or Amíl will be gone in less than a week. And once he's gone, you'll never so much as hear of him again." He placed his hat back on his head and turned to leave, strolling to the elevator with the same easy confidence he always seemed to have.

"For now, I have other matters to attend to."

The elevator closed just as Red finished speaking.

"Well?" Cooper asked Liz, "How do you suggest we go about this?"

Surprisingly, however, it was Ressler that answered.

"I think I know someone."

~

You were just pulling the muffins out of the oven when the doorbell rang.

"One second!" You called, hoping they could hear you as you pulled out the second tray and placed it onto the waiting trivet. You removed your oven mitts and set them on the counter between the two trays, then made your way to the front door. Your eyes lit up as you spotted Donnie through the tall windows. Taking two long strides to reach the door, you flung it open, a wide grin dancing on your lips.

"Donnie! Hi, I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!"

It took everything in you not to pull him in for a hug, but you knew he didn't like spontaneous physical contact, so you abstained. Donnie coughed and shifted uncomfortably and you finally registered the two others standing next to him.

The brunette had an apologetic smile on her face, but the older man looked more amused than anything.

You scanned them briefly. Deciding they looked harmless enough, you stepped back to let them in. Besides, you trusted Donnie not to bring anyone dangerous to your door.

"Nice suit. It looks good on you. Come on in, we can talk while I make the drizzle for these muffins. I hope y'all like lemon,"

You turned and led them through the house and into the kitchen, humming at the thanks you received for the compliment. You also fought off a smile when you heard him mutter something about 'good taste' to the woman.

"So," you said, carefully adding powdered sugar to the bit of lemon juice you had left, "I'm assuming this visit is for business rather than pleasure?"

"Unfortunately. I have a favor to ask of you."

"Alright," you replied. Deciding the drizzle was at the consistency you wanted, you began to spoon it over the muffins. "I can tell this is serious, and the kitchen counter is no place to discuss serious business. Donnie, could you grab plates for everyone? We'll talk about this further in the living room. Please try to keep crumbs on your plates, I cleaned the couches yesterday."

~

You stared incredulously at your friend and his two companions, whose names you'd learned were Liz and David, though you suspected the man was lying.

"I'm sorry, let me get this straight. You spent three years trying to get me to stop stealing cars and remove myself from this life of crime, you helped me move to get away from that life and be closer to you, and now you're telling me you want me to go steal cars in your name?"

David smiled and leaned back in his chair, "Yes."

"No." Donnie glared so hard you thought he might punch David in the face before returning his gaze to you. "Of course I don't want you to go back to stealing cars. But we need someone to go undercover for us, and unfortunately I seem to know the only car thief good enough at acting to help."

"Ex car thief, Donnie. I don't do that shit anymore."

You sighed and buried your face in your hands, dragging them down until your eyes were uncovered. "But you're my friend, and I help my friends. What do you need me to do?"

David sat back up and turned to the woman, who hadn't so much as touched her muffin.

"You really ought to try the muffins. They're incredible. As for what you need to do, we'll need you to get the attention of a certain criminal, so you're going to need you to break into his car. Don't take it though, it needs to look like you did it just to prove you could. Once you've done that, you'll have to convince him to let you join his operation instead of murdering you. Can you do that?"

You weighed your options silently. On one hand, what they were asking of you was incredibly dangerous, and even though you knew it was necessary, the idea of purposely being caught set every part of you on edge.

On the other hand though, Donnie would never ask you to do something like this unless he was truly desperate, and you trusted him not to let you get hurt. Still, he couldn't prevent every danger and doing this would be taking a huge risk.

"Which criminal?"

Liz finally added her two cents into the mix.

"I'm terribly sorry, but that's classified. Unless we have positive confirmation you'll be helping us, he'll have to remain unnamed."

A sharp, angry smile made its way onto your face.

"I'm sorry, you're not just asking me to put my life on the line, you're also asking me to risk everything I've worked so hard to build. Even if I do this, and by some miracle this man doesn't murder me, soon everyone will know who I am and what I did, and if my old employers get a hold of that information, I will be hunted, tortured, and killed. So you can either tell me who's car I'll be stealing and take the risk that I might say no, or you can get the hell out of my house right now and know for certain that you squandered your best chance of catching this man. Do I make myself clear?"

Liz opened her mouth to respond, but David cut her off before she could say anything else.

"Vicente Amíl."

"Jesus fucking Christ," you muttered.

"I'll do it. But just so we're clear, you owe me. Big time."

You locked eyes with Donnie, who sagged with visible relief.

"Thank you, (Y/n). You have no idea what this means to me."

You shook your head, standing. "I'm the stupidest person in the entire world. I can't believe I'm doing this for you. Also," you added, turning back to Liz, "It's incredibly rude not to eat food someone serves you in their home. If you didn't like lemons, you should've said so before I served you."

You turned your attention back to the boys. "You, on the other hand, should take a few muffins to go. Thank you for being so polite. You're welcome back anytime. Donnie, always good to see you, even if you are requesting impossible things from me. Please see Liz out."

Donald raised an eyebrow at that. "Just Liz?"

You glanced back at him and smiled. "And yourself, please. Do come back later though, I'm dying to catch up. David and I are going to get him his muffins."

Though polite, your tone left no room for argument and you could faintly hear Donnie and Liz arguing as they walked to the door. Once the door finally closed, you turned your attention back to the man in the center of your house.

"Wonderful. Now that they're gone, may I have your real name please? I do tire of calling you by your alias."

You watched as he chuckled and rose from his chair, strolling towards the hall leading back to the kitchen. "Raymond Reddington, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet someone so very talented."

"Please," you replied smoothly, "The pleasure is all mine. I meant what I said, by the way. Feel free to drop by whenever. I'm usually off Friday through Sunday and there's a good chance I'll be baking something else. Helps relax me, and my coworkers enjoy whatever I make as well."

He smiled as you handed him a Tupperware container with four muffins safely nestled inside. Placing his hat back upon his head, he made his way to the door, and you took notice of the glint in his eye right before he left.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you quite soon, (Y/n)."

You leaned against the wall and watched him saunter to the car waiting for him. A different car than Donnie and Liz took, by the looks of it. The corners of your lips twitched up as you watched him go.

"Raymond Reddington, huh? What an interesting man."

P.S. The muffins mentioned are real muffins. Feel free to let me know if you want the recipe.

[famousnerdtragedy]

The Convergence of Legends

Crossover between The Originals/Buffy/The Blacklist

In the mystic realms where legends intertwine and destinies collide, there exists a figure shrouded in myth and mystery—the enigmatic Bella Mayfair, bearer of a title that echoes through the ages. As the Eternal Slayer, Queen of all Witches she commands respect and reverence from mortal and immortal alike. Yet, beneath her formidable facade lies a heart that yearns for connection—a longing that leads her on a journey to the doorstep of the Mikaelson family, where destiny awaits.

Bella, known by many names but understood by few, is a force to be reckoned with in the realms of magic and beyond. Born of ancient bloodlines and blessed with extraordinary gifts, she embodies the very essence of power and grace. As the Eternal Slayer, she has faced countless adversaries, her blade tempered in the fires of battle and her will unyielding in the face of darkness.

But it is not only her prowess in combat that sets her apart, for Bella is also the Queen of all Witches, her essence intertwined with the very fabric of creation. From the whispers of incantations to the thunderous might of elemental forces, she wields the power of magic with a finesse that borders on the divine. As the Queen of All Witches, she commands the respect and allegiance of covens far and wide, her wisdom and guidance sought by those who walk the path of the arcane.

It is amidst the backdrop of her illustrious life Bella finds herself drawn to the Mikaelson family, ancient vampires whose legacy rivals even her own. Bound by a connection that transcends time and space, she pays them a visit, her arrival heralded by whispers of prophecy and whispers of fate.

As she steps into their domain, she is greeted by the enigmatic Raymond Reddington, a man whose reputation precedes him in the clandestine underworld. Yet, beneath his veneer of charm and sophistication, Bella senses a soul as ancient as her own, a kindred spirit whose destiny is intertwined with hers in ways neither can fully comprehend.

Their meeting is marked by a recognition that transcends mere words—a primal instinct that draws them together with an irresistible force. In Raymond Reddington, Bella sees a reflection of herself—a warrior, a leader, and a lover whose passion burns as brightly as her own.

As they stand on the precipice of destiny, their fates entwined inextricably, Bella and Raymond embark on a journey that will test the very limits of their beings. For in each other, they find not only solace and companionship but also a love that defies the bounds of mortality.

As they navigate the treacherous waters of intrigue and betrayal, they are buoyed by the knowledge that they are not alone, for the bonds of family and friendship that bind them to the Mikaelsons run deep. Together, they stand as a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness, their love a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit.

In the annals of history, their tale will be whispered with reverence—a legend born of love, forged in the fires of destiny, and bound by the eternal threads of fate.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

The Blacklist Masterlist

One Shots 

A Desperate Mess - Donald Ressler x Reader

Peach Cobbler - Donald Ressler x Reader

A Case They’ll Like - Raymond Reddington, Reader (all platonic)

Trouble In ‘Paradis’ - Raymond Reddington, Reader (all platonic)

Imagines + Mini Fic

Imagine ignoring Reddington's calls until he shows up at the doorstep

Imagine reminding Reddington that you have his back

Imagine declining a task from Reddington

Imagine being frustrated with Reddington again

Imagine suggesting a restaurant to Ressler for date night

Imagine getting on Ressler’s nerves

Series 

Club Abyssinia -  Reader x Donald Ressler (implied), Reader x Raymond Reddington (platonic)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (last)

(Return to the Easy Navigate Masterlist)

[writingbyshiloh]

In bed rn BUT do y’all think Red would carry a little travel size bottle of your perfume when he’s away for business?

A photo is too dangerous because it’s too identifiable, but the SMELL of you? Perfect and subtle when he catches a whiff of it on his suit while flying or a safe house pillow

[profeyandere]

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Click if you want to go to the main Masterlist

ꜱᴛᴇꜰꜰ ᴍᴄᴋᴇᴇ │ •➤ ᴍᴜᴛᴇ │ •➤ ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇ [coming soon] │ •➤ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ, ʙᴀʙᴇ [coming soon] ╰─────────────

ʀᴀʏᴍᴏɴᴅ ʀᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ │ •➤ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ [coming soon] │ •➤ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ [coming soon] ╰─────────────

[iseethedead-blog1]

song from pervious post