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101crows · 5 months

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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.”

#blacklist #the blacklist #raymond reddington #red reddington #reddington #reddington x reader #Raymond reddington x reader #red x reader #the blacklist x reader #reddington x you #the blacklist x you #writing #x reader

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writingbyshiloh · 7 months

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Part 6

Parts 1-5

CW: Reader gets injured on the job!,(TBH it could be either hand as long as you have a weird handshake),Making out in a closet. Flashbacks to when Ressler walked in on R and Red having sex (part 2) and Liz and the earring (part 3)

WC: 2.3 (!!!!)

AN: Reader did work with a mob team, Flashback to when Ressler slept with Samar in season 4. I’ve never broken a bone so I tried to google as best as I could :) It ends a but abrutly, but I tried for an hour to work out a better ending and nada

Thank you to everyone who read the series, esp those who provided kind comments/feedback/let me bounce ideas off of them!! Whether you read just half of a chapter or all 6 I truly appreciate it. 7 months later we are done!!!

“And how is the happy couple doing?” Reddington asks, sliding up next to you at the bar.

“Oh, you know. Hopefully going to get into a huge argument in 10 minutes,” you reply.

The task force was undercover at a cocktail party, to which a known member of the Blacklist was invited. Red and Liz are paired up, same with you and Ressler, while Samar and Aram are in the van, monitoring everyone.

The first part of the plan was for Reddington and you to point out the mob member - Sonny Someone or other. Raymond knew them through business, while you knew him from trying to take him down while on a mob squad.

Part two was you and your “husband” of the evening get into a fight, giving a reasonable excuse to not be mingling with others hoping to let Ressler bond with some of the other criminals.

Currently, it's part three. You’re slinking around the halls of the event while not being outed as an FBI agent. Your bigger task is making sure you and Reddington are safe from any mob-connected individuals who may want him dead.

You’re both out of sight, being tucked into a storage room with your back uncomfortable against a shelf with a first aid kit next to you, while his hands gently squeeze your hips.

“We shouldn’t. Everyone here is suspicious!” you hiss, weakly protesting his advances, knowing you’re going to give in. He looks too good and you haven’t spent any time with him in the past two weeks outside of work.

“Personally, I’ve always found the threat of death an aphrodisiac. Don’t you?”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder, trying to hide your smile. What do you possibly say to that? You let out a small snort of laughter.

His lips dropped to your neck, kissing any exposed skin. You sigh, not daring to make a louder noise. Your arms, however, pulled him closer.

Dipping your head, you tried to catch his lips with your own. He understands and brings his lips to yours, gently tugging your bottom lip with his teeth as a suggestion of you opening your mouth.

The squeaking of hurried dress shoes caused you to break apart, both leaning closer to the door to hear what's happening.

You can hear Ressler's voice, strained as if he is jogging, saying, “They said they’re going down this hall, I just don’t see them!”

On instinct, you flinch back, knocking the first aid kit off the shelf. You wince hearing the dull smack of the kit hitting the floor, then wince harder at the steps before the door.

You barely hear the end of Donald's phone call, the opening of the door distracting you. Raymond positions his body in front of you, in case of the possibility that it's not Ressler on the other side of the door, but an attacker.

“What the fuck.” is the only thing Donald can manage.

You understand how bad the situation looks, Raymond Reddington looking flushed, and you standing behind. You see emotions flit across his face, not quite sure what to say. You squeeze past Reddington to go closer to Ressler.

Your motion spurs Ressler into action.

“Are you out of your mind? He's a criminal!” Ressler hisses at you, trying to keep his voice down.

Reddington wants to correct him, pointing out that he is one of the most wanted criminals but the look you shoot at him makes him close his mouth.

“It's not that bad!” you protest trying to save face.

“It is!”

“It's not!”

“Does Cooper know?” Ressler lets out a small huff of a laugh “Does Liz know?”

“NO! You’re the first to know. But you can’t tell anyone. Please.” you beg.

“What's stopping me?”

“I never told a soul about you sleeping with a subordinate! I planned to take that shit to the grave!”

“A subordinate? I never knew you had it in you, Donald.” Reddington chimes in from behind.

A new voice around the corner makes you all freeze. You’re certain it's Sonny from listening to his voice through surveillance plans.

Ressler’s comments and discovery have your nerves set ablaze but you still have enough sense to get your work weapon out and ready. You see Ressler do the same.

Catching Reddington's eye, you jerk your head to the side, trying to get him to go behind you and Donald. He returns with a bewildered look as if you thought he’d willingly place you in danger.

All three of you are pressed against the wall, trying to figure out what to do next. Ressler is in front of you, Reddington close behind.

The voice is nearer, talking but no one is answering. Ressler uses his free hand to make the sign of a phone using his thumb and pinky. You nod in agreement.

Your stress-addled brain tells you this is the best time to get your man.

Rounding the l-shaped corner you smack into Sonny, trying to come across as a distracted and drunk partygoer, not an FBI agent on the verge of losing their job.

“I’m sorry! I should watch where I’m going.” You apologize, trying to buy some time for Ressler and Reddington to understand your plan.

“It is okay. Sonny.” He introduces himself. His hand is extended for a handshake but you would know him without the introduction. You spent months trying to get a lead on the racketeering he's done.

You take his hand without thinking, glad he doesn’t recognize you. His left hand is on your right, patting your hand. You want to pull your arm away but can’t, wanting to stay in partygoer character.

It's too fast for you to react until your index and middle fingers are bent back and you're gasping out in pain.

Your surprise shouting alerts the two men behind you. With your half-baked plan ruined, they round the corner to come and find you and Sonny.

With the mob member gone, you hold your hand in shock, telling Ressler to go after the mob guy. Instead of following your order, Ressler communicates with Samar and Aram in the van, telling them that Sonny ran towards the exit.

The combined adrenaline of undercover, being found out, and having at least one finger broken is what keeps you from crying. Or at least what you tell yourself.

----

Hospitals are never your favourite place, but it's exceptionally awkward now. Reddington is off doing something (he sent someone from his team to pay the leftover medical bills) to save some face. You have two broken fingers and want nothing more than to go home.

Ressler is keeping you company (you suspect he's also the reason a nurse has checked in on you twice in the past 15 minutes). He only left briefly for Cooper to call you to say you’re not fired, but one out of the three weeks off (suggested by the doctor) was a suspension. Inappropriate relationship with a CI. But with the black site, nothing will stay on your file.

Outside the room, you hear the voices from your team, most of them hushed, one angry.

Aram being on the verge of tears is not what you expected to see when. You expected anger, or arguing, but not this level of upset from your close friend. Knowing Aram’s tendency to talk when nervous you’re sure he's going to tell you what's going on.

“Why would you cheat on Dembe with Mr. Reddington?” The hurt in his voice is obvious.

You can't control the way your jaw drops in shock or the way that your eyes widen. The doctor only gave you regular painkillers, but now you’re wondering if they’re making you loopy. You make eye contact with Ressler, who slowly shakes his head, not wanting to be part of this.

“Cheat? On Dembe! What does Dembe have to do with this?” you can only hope that no one else can hear the conversation.

“Dembe! Your boyfriend?” Aram fills you in.

“My who?”

“You’re dating Dembe. The evidence adds up.” Samar chips in.

“What evidence do you even have?”

“What about the earrings you left at the safe house? You and Dembe kept looking at each other and the earrings.” Liz supplies.

“Who remembers things like that?” Fucking profilers apparently.

“What about how you light up when Dembe comes into the post office?”

Okay. Maybe you’re not as subtle as you think you are. In your defence, however, that would be because he walks in with Raymond.

“It's even more messed up that it’s with his boss!”

You suppose it is a good thing your coworkers are so sharp, trying to tease information from your personal life to fit into their theory.

“What if I told you I’m not actually dating Dembe. So your theory sucks.”

Maybe you are getting a bit worked up. You watch the wheels spin in their head, trying to figure out.

Aram is the first to put the pieces together “Mr. Reddington? He's like 60!”

“That's why you dropped your coffee when Aram asked how things are with Mr. Right! You heard Mr. R and jumped to the conclusion. ” Liz supplies. It takes everything in you not to ask if this is the hospital where her ex-fiancé works.

You meet Samar’s eye and she frowns in a way that says not too bad. You make a mental note to ask her what the fuck that means.

“Does Cooper know?”

“Do I know what?” The man himself asks, entering your hospital room, a bottle of juice from the vending machine for you tucked under his arm.

If it didn't make you want to crawl into a hole, his timing would be comedic. His appearance still makes you pleased, he can't be that mad if he is visiting you, and bringing you a gift.

“Yes! Can we stop talking about it now?” you plead.

Your idea is shot down to a chorus of “no!”s.

“Hand me my drink, I will answer one question each. Choose wisely.” You say. Might as well get something out of this situation.

---

“If you clench your jaw any harder we'll have to turn back.” you joke to Ressler, his knuckles white with how hard he is gripping the steering wheel. It was nice of him to drive you home, but his anger for you is coming and going in waves.

“You know, it's a shame how you never managed to catch Reddington before the task force started.” you notice his back stiffen at the mention of the FBI most wanted. You pretend to study your splint before continuing. “And do you remember when you wanted to drop off the files at my apartment? At literally the worst possible time?”

For the first time since being in the car, he looks at you.

“I bet you're the first FBI agent to walk in on the most wanted having s-”

“Stop talking.”

---

It's a rarity to see Reddington unsure of himself. Even when you’re alone with him, he carries himself with confidence. Now he looks torn between making sure you’re okay and leaving you alone.

“You can ask, you know,” you say, putting down your phone. The news about your fingers has spread to non-FBI friends, but typing with one hand is getting exhausting.

“How did it go?” He’s sitting next to you, as close as he dared reading his newspaper.

“Better than expected. No more broken limbs, everyone still talking to me, I’m still employed.”

You shift the bag of frozen strawberries on your hand to get more of the cold.

“Cooper called me on the way to the hospital, I was slapped with inappropriate relationships with a CI, much better than with a wanted criminal.” You smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Cooper also said he wouldn’t tell the team if he didn't want me to.”

“But you did. Liz called, and let's just say your friends care about you.”

Your chest feels warm at the idea of your friends fighting on your behalf.

“I didn’t, they figured it out. I think all Ressler told them was he found us in a closet. It's whatever. I don’t think I could figure out another reason why it's so funny when he offs to beat up the mystery man.”

“Yes, he always is a real go-getter, isn't he?” Raymond agrees.

You press your lips together to hide your guilty expression. Reddington notices and his hand creeps up to the back of your neck, trying to be reassuring. You lean your body weight into him trying to get comfortable.

“The next time you see Ressler one-on-one” at least you hope he respects you enough to not talk about your sex life with everyone “he's going to have some choice words.”

You twist your head to look at Reddington's face, eyebrows raised slightly, tongue between his teeth as he tries to understand what you’re going to say.

“I may have brought up how he, um, interrupted us one time,” you say. Now is not the time to bring up what other sexy details you shared with the team while he was unnamed.

“Is that why he ran as soon as your door opened?”

“Yeah, I think I traumatized him in the car.”

“He’s a strong man, he’ll live.”

#raymond reddington x reader #raymond reddington fan fic #raymond reddington x you #the blacklist x reader #the blacklist fanfic #5+1

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