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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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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

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F reader and Samar?

"Samar...I uh...I don't feel.....so well....I think im.....gonna take a seat-" reader sinks into Samars arms in the breakroom at work, passing out cold.

---

Your whole body screamed in pain and frustration; if you had your way, you´d wanted to curl up on the floor in a fetal position. But that wasn´t possible for you. You couldn´t afford that at work, couldn´t show that you were breaking down in this heat while everyone else around you seemed to be fine with it.

So you sat restlessly at your desk, trying to focus on the various digits on the screen as they gradually blurred into each other, your sweaty palm wrapping around the mouse.

The tingling in your neck that rose into the back of your head, the heat that spread in waves in your chest, the strange headache and not to forget the dizziness you felt became more uncomfortable, annoying and stronger with each passing hour. You blamed it on the exertion, the stress and the constant sitting in the car or at the desk. Occasionally, you would force yourself to take deep breaths, which would make the feeling fade, but didn´t really improve your situation. This oppressive warmth on and around you didn´t let you go. A film of sweat formed on your skin and your body longed to cool down. The air was almost stuffy and left the room with almost no air to breathe for you. "You wanna get something to drink?"

Your gaze wandered to your colleague, Samar, which was standing in front of you. Her arms braced under her chest and her legs planted firmly on the floor. She gave you that stern and unique look that never allowed you to say no.

You wrestled with your answer for a moment; her face doubling and tripling in your vision. Actually, you didn´t want to get up and stay seated, but you nodded anyway, knowing that you didn´t stand a chance against her. "..yeah."

You stifled the effort of a groan as you pushed yourself off your work desk and followed Samar into the break room. You felt bruised, but no wonder in the heat. You couldn´t sleep properly for days and confused heat dreams chased the next.

When you closed the door to the room behind you, you dragged yourself to the next wall you were near and leaned against it for a moment. You found it difficult to move reasonably fast, it felt like heavy weights were hanging from your arms and legs, making every movement infinitely tedious. "Here, take this. You look awful." Samar stated the obvious and bit her inner lip as she held a cool water bottle in front of you- the dizziness, as you know, showing up again and leaving your vision blurry. "..thanks."

"When was the last time you closed your eyes for a healthy amount of sleep?" she asked inquisitively and raised one of her eyebrows questioningly. She had noticed a change in your appearance and demeanor days ago- much quieter and more tense. You were wearing the wrong clothes for this time of year and she recognized the faint beads of sweat under the bright light of the lamp.

"Not for days. The heat.. It´s killing me." you explained and had to realized that even speaking began to be difficult. With one hand you pulled the collar of your shirt and waved it to let more air onto your skin. "Now let´s get back to work, killers don´t catch themselves." you spoke softly, trying to squeeze your way out of the health questions. She was your best friend, no question. But still you didn´t want anyone to know how you were doing at the moment.

After all, it was just a heat way that eventually will pass.

"Y/n." A hand in front of you stopped you from walking towards the door and opening it, her fingers pressed against your abdomen and let you fall back against the grey and cold wall. "Samar, please."

"Y/n." the FBI agent´s voice sounded oddly weird, making you stop in your movement and look up. Her other hand grabbed yours and you wondered why Samar felt so cool. "Heatwave?"

"Yes, exactly." you turned around, now standing with your side to her and inwardly cursed your mental failure for forgetting the dizziness that was catching up to you immediately. "The last days of summer are over and it has cooled down significantly. What are you talking-"

And then it hit you full force. The heat had become unbearably strong, your heart was pounding in your chest and you had to swallow loudly when your condition suddenly deteriorated. You had to sit down immediately just to keep from fainting.

"Samar…I uh…I don't feel…..so well….I think im…..gonna take a seat again-" you interrupted and slumped against her as she tightened her grip on you with a surprised sound from deep in her throat. But it was too late, you blacked out and fell. You fell until the world stopped spinning and you found yourself on the floor, at least half on the floor and half in her arms as she caught and fell down with you.

Why was Samar so incredibly cold?

Her cool hand touched your forehead and you leaned into it, drowning out the aching pounding behind your temples. "Sweets, come on." she sounded concerned. Now you could place the tone of her voice that you had been wondering about all along. There was huge concern written in her voice.

You tried to answer her, tried to explain that it was just the heat that completely wrecked your circulation and got you into this position; into a collapse. There was no need to worry and no reason to hold you in your arms on the tiled floor, which was so cold. But your voice failed and no sound came out of you.

The sudden dryness of your throat and the darkness that had managed to take away a bigger part of your vision intensified, taking you into yet another heat-ridden dream.

#samar navabi x reader #samar navabi x you #samarnavabi #samar navabi #samarnavabi x you #samarnavabi x reader #x reader #the blacklist #theblacklist #the blacklist fanfiction #the blacklist fanfic #the blacklist imagines #the blacklist imagine #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines

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legeebeeteequah · 2 years

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Somebody tell me how the fuck I ended up on a Raymond Reddington/Reader fic and loving the idea...

WTH

#ao3 #fanfiction #the blacklist fanfic #Reddington x reader

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ldflow3r · 2 years

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so i've been watching The Blacklist after very recently finishing all 15 seasons of Criminal Minds, and i would love to read a fic where Aaron Hotchner and Harold Cooper meet for brunch to discuss the unauthorized shenanigans their fbi agent children are getting up to on a daily bases before concluding that they as their teams surrogate fathers are the ones to blame for their kids lack of protocol and that there's nothing anyone can do about it and they can tell strauss or whichever old lady is yelling at harold on this particular day to not-so-kindly fu-

also please no spoilers for blacklist im only on season 2 ok thank u

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it-was-light-cream-cheese · 2 years

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Posted this a little while ago on AO3. Sharing here. Keenler, Keenler, blah blah blah

#the blacklist #keenler #fanfic #the blacklist fanfic

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my-robot-heart · 2 years

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Chapters: 3/? Fandom: The Blacklist (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cynthia Panabaker/Raymond Reddington Characters: Cynthia Panabaker, Raymond Reddington, Dembe Zuma Additional Tags: Fluff, Some Humor, Some Plot, (not really a lot of plot), Good old home cooking, literally there's lots of cooking, Slow Burn Summary:

Red breaks into Cynthia’s house and cooks dinner after going dark from the task force because he just likes her kitchen

#the blacklist fanfic #panabakington #raymond reddington #cynthia panabaker #chapter three #😂😂 it's a good one

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thelonemusketeer · 6 months

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Alice Merton - no roots, raymond reddington fanfic

as a young man, raymond always felt like he didn't belong as a treacherous criminal he always thought of putting a bullet into his own head to be forgiven for his sins his crimes against his own people who turned there backs on him yet he didn't do it but his daughter did kill him

as a young women, Katarina felt like she didn't belong as a russian traitor she never fit in shed blame her father but she had her own choices but she didn't know different from what she was chosen to be and she watched as Raymond Reddington died in front of her own eyes killed by their own daughter, she found a doctor to change her gender to the father

Raymond Reddington after all its smarter to hide in plain sight then attract attention with her own name instead of Raymond Reddington's name because she made him a traitor and ruined his life and reputation as a loyal man to his country when she was Katrina

they both had no roots holding them back in the end they became one she survived to protect Masha Rostova, her daughter but she had to contact a friend in the states to give her daughter to that friend because she couldn't raise her own daughter as a criminal mastermind as Raymond Reddington it was for the best that she kept far away from her to protect Masha/elizabeth, she sat thinking of her daughter, her only blood in america aside from her father who she rather not see as herself, she grins as she puts the hat on-top of her head feeling more powerful with a different name and face Raymond Reddington

Raymond walks away from the old memories and embraces his new identity and the new memories to come with this new life she took on to hide behind raymond reddington's name

nobody would expect her to take on her own victims name and face after all and thats the genius of it her friend thought of it and she can't love Ilya for he deserves better then a killer with few emotions that took on a different gender

#raymond reddington #katarina rostova #Masha Rostova #elizabeth keen #the blacklist fanfic

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redacted-metallum · 3 months

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Vivziepop character designs look like brachycephalic dogs to me. There's nothing cute or attractive here, this thing can't breathe and doesn't have any organs. If it sneezes too hard it'll push out its own eyeballs.

#revs thoughts #someone blazed their fanfic. it got 2 notes #blacklist this tag

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bubblegumflavor · 10 months

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-And then I knew. Johnny was the only thing Dally ever loved.-

(and they lived happily ever after <3)

#this one is very dear to me.. i really hope some of you will like it too :'3 #it is also for my fanfic My Bubblegum Heaven to add to the next update. It's on Ao3 =3 #if you don't like the ship please keep scrolling i need to draw them happy and alive for my inner peace and you can blacklist the tag .#jally #jally fanart #johnny x dally #dally x johnny #johnny cade #dallas winston #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfic #if you like what i do please consider helping my art with a reblog so other people will see it too <3 #johnnycake #dally winston #dally #headcanon #the outsiders fanart #fanart

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writingbyshiloh · 10 months

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Part 5. Aram

Series Masterlist

AN: The 1 (maybe 2) people who read my MVDG and Red fics are EATING this week. This is definitely a new record. Last time R and Red almost get caught!!!! Sry Aram, ILY but I needed part 5 to be done. I have more Red fic ideas BUT I have to finish this first. If u were tagged twice that is my mistake

CW: Food, swearing, FBI! Reader. Editing this was surprisingly fast so be scared (of grammar mistakes)

Slowly but surely, Raymond Reddington has been leaving things at your apartment. The first was a now empty suitcase. He asked you to take it because he needed to move out of one safe house and wouldn’t be able to get into the next one for the whole day. Nursing your massive crush on him, you agreed, but not before going through the suitcase in front of him to make sure it was just clothes and nothing illegal.

As your relationship evolved, so have the items he leaves at yours. He’s left a few white T-shirts in case he stays over, munis the one you took for yourself. There is a full suit perpetually hanging in the back of your closet, tucked away in its own bag. He even left a French press in your kitchen so he can enjoy his coffee at yours. You’re also gifted with an endless supply of drop phones with one or two numbers pre-programmed into them.

----

You’ve been to this restaurant before, but that was when you went as an ordinary customer. It was loud, a mix of chatter from customers, the kitchen, and the random playlist of background music.

Tonight was much quieter, the only customers being the two of you. You could hear the music more clearly even though it was at a lower volume. That’s the perks you get when dating someone who everyone seems to owe.

You could hear him even if you were sitting across, but he immediately took the seat next to you. His watch reflects the light as he trails your fingers up and down your arm.

You try not to squirm under his gaze but it's hard. He’s been gone for a month and you’re just dying to get him into your bed. You didn't even glance at the menus, wanting to have your whole attention on Reddington.

“We can go somewhere. Anywhere you want.” He suggests pulling you back to the conversation.

“Oh, is my apartment not good enough for you?” you tease, trying to deflect.

“Not that I don’t love your view of the parking lot, sweetheart, but how about a change? We could get as far as Finland for breakfast.”

You’re saved by a shrill ringing from your bag. It also makes your heart drop into your stomach. Not wanting to be interrupted you only brought your work phone.

“Shit, shit. I’m so sorry I have to take this.” your words are frantic and you pull the phone out to see who is on the caller ID.

Reddington nodded, understanding but you could also see the disappointment on his face.

You push your seat out while standing, needing to pace while on the phone.

“I know you’re on a date, and you were really looking forward to it, but we need you. The calls are too much for one person and uhh….” Aram’s voice trails off as the line goes mute.

You know that you’re going to ditch your date to go to work, but you can still feel bad about it. You spin on your feet to face Reddington and tell him the bad news but catch sight of Dembe striding across the restaurant with his phone in hand.

Aram rejoined your phone call. “And Rickey’s dead.”

Rickey is someone low in Reddington's criminal operation, who is also working with someone on the blacklist, selling secrets to them. Reddington was feeding Ricky false information in hopes it would draw out the blacklister.

“He's dead?!” you repeat, before putting your phone on mute to fill Reddington in.

“Your man Ricky’s dead!” You tell him, still in disbelief.

Both Dembe and Reddington look at you like you grew a second head.

“He's not dead, he has been arrested,” Dembe informs you.

Now it was your turn to stare at them.

“Hello? Are you still there? Helloooo.” Aram's voice got your attention. You unmute him.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m on my way.” You reply before handing up the call. The restaurant was close to the Post Office, it would be faster to walk than to try and get your coat and have Reddington drive you.

“I’m so sorry, I need to go, Aram thinks he's dead, but needs help figuring out where, or why or something.” You ramble on trying to get your brain to catch up.

“Can I at least offer a ride?” Reddington asks. He knows he won’t be able to talk you back into continuing the date.

You wave him off.

“It's faster if I walk. I’m so sorry” you apologize for the third time.

“Sweetheart, it's raining, please.” He implores.

“I gotta go.”

With your phone in your hand, you blindly felt around under the table for your bag.

“It's raining.”

“It’s just water,” you argued back.

“At least take the jacket, please.”

You reached out to take the cream suit jacket from him and shrugged it over your shoulders. At least your hair will stay dry.

---

“That's a nice jacket. Looks like something Reddington would wear.” The first words out of Aram's mouth had you on edge.

Your laugh sounded fake, even to your own ears as you move to hide the jacket in your shared office.

“Yeah, guess I spend too much time here” you joke, settling into the chair Aram put out for you at his desk.

“Okay. I know you got pulled away from your date, and I’m sorry. But did you get the pasta with the mushroom cream sauce?”

“Aram -”

“Oh, or maybe the gnocchi?”

You make an exaggerated frown. “We didn’t even order.”

Aram's face drops. It’s sweet how invested he is. When Reddington told you the restaurants he wanted to take you to, Aram helped you decide which one to go to you think.

---

The Ricky hunt was not going well. No one had a clear lead, and with you taking hospital and morgues, Aram calling police stations, even Reddington (sans suit jacket) and Dembe came into call any criminal contacts who may know.

Aram was blessed with the winning phone call. Ricky was indeed arrested and then bailed out by the blacklister, giving the team a lead. More importantly, it gave you the freedom to salvage what was left of your date.

Dembe already left to start the car but to also give you and Red some space.

“You look lovely tonight. Any special occasion?” He asked while following you to one of the hallways in the post office.

You press your lips together in an effort not to smile.

“I actually had a hot date.”

“Think it's salvageable?”

You pretended to think it over while the elevator doors closed.

“I don’t know. He told me my apartment’s not as nice for breakfast compared to anywhere in Europe?” you tease him.

“He sounds wise. Are you going to forgive him?” Reddington purses his lips as if he was actually going to weigh in on the drama.

You bump your shoulder against him.

“Depends on how he treats me tonight.”

#s1 red you will always be [redacted]#raymond reddington fan fic #raymond reddington x you #raymond reddington x reader #the blacklist x reader #the blacklist fanfic

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

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Samar Navabi and f reader? Reader and Samar are trying to keep their relationship secret from the task force, but after a dangerous situation they can't anymore?

A/n: Sorry for the long ass post but I got carried away a tiny little bit because I liked this request way too much & I hope I get more requests for her!

I hope you like the outcome of this! ♥

---

"Do you think what we´re doing here is right?" you murmured and let yourself fall deeper into the embrace of Samar. She cradled you lovingly in the bed while throwing a blanket over you both for warmth in this chilly time of year.

She took a deep breath and carefully tried to calm you down; you both were aware of the consequences of a secret love affair that could cost your job. It was especially dangerous for Samar to enter into a relationship with a much younger partner, but neither wanted to let the other go- you loved each other too much for that. "You know, if it feels right to you, then it´s not a mistake. You are a person with feelings and you cannot control them; you can not control who you fall in love with."

You only nodded in agreement and snuggled up against her chest before you felt her index finger under your chin. She slowly craned your head up and you saw her mouth form in a smile before her soft lips laid on yours and all your worries were gone in an instant.

A cold breeze came through the tilted window and you started to shiver. You quickly pulled the covers up under your nose so as not to cool down and earned a giggle from the older woman behind you. "Let´s go to sleep or I´ll be too tired to concentrate tomorrow and Keen will have to drag you away from the coffee machine."

You giggled quietly as you reminisced about how Ressler had discussions with you about when you finally will learn to find a suitable sleeping pattern instead of pouring yourself liters of coffee to stay awake or how Aram teased you about calling the disgusting brew your elixir of life.

"I love you." The brunette snuggled even closer to you, wrapping her arm around her waist to cross the last few millimeters between you. Blowing a kiss on your cheek, you both closed your eyes. "I love you too, Y/n."

---

"I got hit!" you screamed through the coms, clutching your lower abdomen in pain. The wound on your side bled constantly, yet you couldn´t take care of it now. You had to get out of this factory; had to escape the masked men and get to safety. "Y/l/n, hold on. Ressler and Keen are trying to get through to you; Navabi and Aram are on the way too." dictated your boss´s voice, that was muffled by your body´s loud heartbeat beaming in your ear.

With your back pressed against the rough and cold brick, you carefully slink along the wall to peek around the corner- a fatal mistake, as it turned out.

A bullet passed so close to your face that you could feel the draft of the small caliber against your skin. You pulled your head back quickly and sucked in the air violently; you only needed a second to collect yourself.

-Think of Samar. If you want to find yourself in her arms tonight again, you had to come out of her alive. Now move!- you thought to yourself and closed your eyes for a moment. You tried to remember Samar´s scent, the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin under your fingers. It all seemed way too far away; all you smelled was the unpleasant smell of burning coals and all you felt was pain seeping through your side.

You were shaking from the pain and from the loss of blood. You quickly wiped the sweat from your forehead before you entered the corridor with your gun raised.

Through the smoke that occupied the hallway, you saw two tall man running out of it; the assault riffle already aimed at you. The enemies didn´t even have time to blink and to reorient before you fired three bullets and both sank down lifelessly to the dusty ground. Two less on the way to freedom.

Gun drawn in front of your body, you crouched ininhibited, yet cautious, down the long hallway. It wasn´t easy to find the exit through the thickness of grey dust and it took effort but you had to get out of here.

Suddenly and unnoticed, as you pushed yourself forward, a hard grip wrapped around your upper arm and pulled you roughly into a corner. It wasn´t until your back felt another cool wall beneath and your eyes widened in pain that you saw Donald standing in front of you, covering your mouth with his hand so you wouldn´t scream in shock and announce their hiding position.

As Liz looked at your wound and tried as best she could to bandage your hip with a pressure bandage made from her jacket, the young man slowly pulled away from you. The hair, that was stuck to your face, was pulled behind your ear and he started to examine the bloody graze on your face. "No time to look at this now. We have to get out of here. Hurry!" the brunette screamed into your faces and dragged you with her. She heard your screams and an grunts throw her pulling; as much as it hurt her to only cause you more suffering, she couldn´t take it into account at the moment.

Some shots flew in your direction and you ducked- you were too slow. It briefly occurred to you to just give up, but you quickly reminded yourself that it wasn´t just about you.

Time passed painfully slowly. Soon pain and exhaustion began to take their toll on you and you had trouble controlling your own trembling lips and shallow but hard breathing. Your two partners noticed that too. The blonde agent cursed loudly enough and managed to drown out the noises for a moment. With the strength of a man, who had possibly nothing left to loose in life, he covered you and Liz the last few meters; pushing you almost violently to the door and outside.

You escaped this damn hell, that´s all that mattered.

With a groan of pain, you lowered your arms to your knees and watched out of the corner of your eye as more special forces stormed into the building. "Y/n!" The bright voice drowned out everything else around you and you looked up from the ground.

Without further ado, the brunette ran towards you and threw her arms around your neck. "Are you okay?" she asked as you laid your head on her shoulder and buried your face in the side of her neck; taking a deep breath of the scent you needed so badly at the factory when everything erupted in chaos.

You didn´t answer, just held onto her tightly, wanting nothing more than her warmth and comfort. She didn´t needed any words either; she understood that you were doing well- according to the circumstances and that you were here in her arms in the first place.

In that moment, that perfect moment of intimacy, Samar pulled away from you and you jerked your head up to look at her.

She smiled happily and took your face in her hands, her thumbs caressing both of your cheeks carefully. There was so much love around you both at that moment, that she just leaped over her shadow and kissed you- completely ignoring the assembled crew.

"Samar.." you whispered as you looked into her eyes in shook and fear. "I do not care, baby." she answered briefly and kissed you again- this time longer and more intense.

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ldflow3r · 2 years

Text

so I wrote a new fic...

Title: There's No Place Like Home

Relation(ships): Elizabeth Keen & Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen & Donald Ressler & Samar Navabi & Aram Mojtabai, Elizabeth Keen/ Tom Keen

Rating: Teen +

Summary: She had been in the system her entire life and expected to remain there until she aged out. That's why she was sent to the Coopers' foster home for troubled children. So you can imagine her surprise when she is randomly adopted one day by a mysterious man who has answers so questions Liz didn't even know she had. Oh, and she still has high school bullshit to deal with.

aka, the task force is a foster family and liz gets adopted by red

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heykoonsy · 3 months

Text

Word Count: 3.8k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: "Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language

Author's Note: Figured I would post this since it's all finished.

Angel Dust grabbed for the lighter next to his abandoned pack of cigarettes. Next, he picked up the vanilla scented candle he’d recently picked out. With a strike of the lighter, he lit the wick. The glow of the candle illuminated his calm smile. After putting down the candle, he sat on his bed, taking in the room.

He’d been keeping to himself these last few days–taking what little time he had between shoots to clean. It took him a few days to sort through all of his laundry and toss out the shredded and stained garments. Afterwards, he had to reorganize his closet. What was once an unkempt mess was now the picture of cleanliness. Every shirt had a hanger, every skirt had a drawer. Every pair of shoes had its place at the bottom of his closet.

He’d even made time to go through his makeup and toss out the expired products. Not to mention he’d been able to deep clean the carpeted floors. Even the mattress he sat on was cleaned–adorned with fresh sheets. He’d also washed Fat Nuggets’ pig bed so that he would have a comfortable place to lay now that he didn’t have a plethora of laundry piles to pick from.

Speaking of Fat Nuggets, he was currently getting water from his new fountain. Angel clasped his hands together watching him move over to his little section of their room. He lay back on the bed, his back hitting the soft sheets. He looked up at the ceiling, content with all that he’d accomplished. In truth, he owed this victory to Husk for kicking him in the pants.

He was living like a slob these last few months. Well really his whole life–topside included. Angel was never the neatest person, but he didn’t have to be. Other people enabled him for as long as he could remember. And in Hell it was no different. But, perhaps that was the problem. With sycophants ready and willing to accept him as he was, and not implore him to do better, this was all was expected of him. Angel had to do better, he realized. So he would. There was never much fun in chores–but chores meant that he was at least catering to his basic needs.

That didn’t mean that he still couldn’t have fun. Never. He still wanted to drink and dance and do things like shop and eat out. But he’d at least start putting in an effort to do his fucking laundry. That way Fat Nuggets didn’t have to worry about his bed being obscured by a mountain of Angel’s discarded outfits.

Angel inhaled the vanilla scent around him, savoring it. He looked forward to doing absolutely nothing today–intent on focusing on self-care today.

But then his phone started to buzz from across the room.

Angel groaned, and looked at the screen. Jax was calling.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Valentino has requested that you attend a meeting with a business partner of his in his stead.”

Angel Dust perked up. Had he heard him right? Val was asking him to oversee a pitch meeting? Angel stood quickly and blew out his candle.

“When’s the meetin’?”

“Two hours, a car will be sent for you.”

Angel heard a click and immediately began searching through his closet. Once he tossed his phone on the bed behind him, he started moving apart the hangers with all four of his hands. He needed something more…elegant. A pencil skirt at the most, with no shoulder pads. Angel tapped his fingers absentmindedly on his upper arms, peering into the many drawers his closet now had.

Then, it hit him. If he remembered correctly, there was one top he could wear with some high-waisted black trousers. Angel found the blouse quickly enough. It was a sleeveless white tank with a high neckline. He also pulled out a hot pink blazer he’d taken off set from when he played an overbearing girlboss. As for the high-waisted trousers, they were skin tight and long with white buttons. He would be able to wear a pair of classy black pumps with them without issue.

Angel threw all of his chosen clothing onto the bed behind him. First, he’d shower. Then he’d style his hair for the occasion–not much. He didn’t want to appear overdressed or too done up. This was a simple pitch meeting, nothing too exciting. But still, he wanted to conduct himself well so that if Val wanted to give him other responsibilities, he could do so without worry.

Without any more delay, Angel Dust hopped into the shower and removed the layer of dust and dirt he’d accumulated after cleaning every nook and cranny of his room. He knew that he’d be spending the most of his time drying off, so he was quick beneath the water. Once he was out, he clad himself in a towel and sat at his vanity.

First things first, he blew out his hair with the hair dryer, giving the fluff at the top of his head a distinct and flirty curl. Next he began applying his makeup, dragging a wand of mascara through his lashes, and choosing a classy nude shade of lipstick. He puckered his lips, smiling at his reflection.

Angel was meticulous when he dried the rest of his body. After a few minutes, he began assembling his outfit. Once he was all dressed and ready, he was excited about how perfectly everything came together. The best thing about it was that it didn’t even look like a costume. It looked like this was how he could always look if he truly wanted to.

Angel glanced at himself in the mirror one last time before choosing a small black purse to carry all of his things with him. He looked at his phone for the time. It seemed he had about a half an hour to kill before the car would arrive. It was a good thing that he knew just how to spend that time.

The walk from his bedroom to the bar was second nature at this point. He barely needed to watch where he was walking as he knew every twist and turn. He looked around the corner, seeing Husk’s hunched shoulders behind the bar. Angel didn’t need to announce his presence, as Husk seemed to pick up on his arrival by the sound of his footsteps.

“Well well well, what are you all dolled up for?”

Angel slid onto his stool, “I’ve been asked to oversee a pitch meetin' with a partner of Val’s.”

Husk nodded along, “You look excited.”

“I am,” Angel said. “I’ve neva done it solo before.”

“It sounds like fun,” Husk said, but he was mostly being polite. Angel knew that he had no idea what Angel was talking about. Still, it was sweet of him to try.

“What are you doin’ later?”

Husk took a moment to gesture around him instead of responding.

Angel smirked at his sass. “What do you do all day when I’m off at work, anyway?”

Husk shrugged his shoulders. “Man the bar, practice card tricks,” he looked at Angel from the corner of his eye, “look in on your pig.”

Angel Dust gasped, his elbows hitting the table. “You take care of Fat Nuggets when I’m away?”

Husk closed his eyes, like he regretted telling Angel. “I just make sure his water dish is full,” he said. “I also make sure he’s eating.” When Husk looked at Angel, he groaned.

“Holy shit,” Angel said under his breath. “You’re a big softy, ain’t ya, Husky?” He asked, raising a hand to poke at Husk’s cheek.

“He has to get exercise–

“You even take him on walks!?”

Husk stopped talking, turning around so that he could mess with some bottles on the bar.

“No wonder he hasn’t wanted to go anywhere!” Angel exclaimed. “I can’t believe this.”

Husk looked back at Angel, a faint blush on his cheeks. “We can walk him together next time,” he offered.

Angel blinked a few times before a smile stretched across his face. “I’d like that, this meetin' shouldn’t take any more than three hours. Will you be free then?”

Husk took a moment to respond. “Yeah,” he said, too shy to turn around.

“It’s a date,” Angel said, standing up from his stool. “We’ll walk our son when I get off work.”

Husk’s cheeks lit up, his hands fumbling the bottle he was holding and nearly dropping it. He looked over to Angel, who had already gathered his things and moved towards the hotel doors.

The car that picked up Angel was fancier than anything he’d rode in before. It seemed that Valentino got himself an upgrade with all the money his last picture made. Angel patted himself on the back as he sat in the back, crossing his legs with the ample leg room showing his ass on camera bought. Jax was in the passenger seat messing with something in a briefcase. He pulled out a manilla folder and handed it back to Angel.

“Read over this script quickly, I’ve annotated the sections that are important.”

Angel grabbed the flimsy folder and pulled out the rather flimsy script. He looked over the highlighted sections that Jax made notes beside. His handwriting was fancier than Angel expected, though he wrote in all capital letters.

STEAMY SHOWER SCENE

BEDROOM MASTURBATION SCENE

Angel continued through the packet. “Huh, I feel like I’ve seen all of this before.”

“You have,” Jax said simply. “Which is why Mr. Valentino wants you to reject this pitch.”

Angel nodded along. “He basically wants me to do a master cut of all my best scenes from other productions. Goodbye residuals.” He palmed through the rest of the documents. He noted a small red envelope. “What’s this?”

“Mr. Valentino would like you to sever our relationship with this partner of his.”

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, but tucked everything back into his manilla folder. He sat back in his seat. His excitement for the pitch meeting was dampened slightly. Not because he had to reject the pitch–but because he now had better plans afterwards. He smiled to himself, thinking about just what Husk looked like taking Fat Nuggets on a walk. Did he look grumpy? Or did he prefer his pig’s company to his own? Did he dote on him? The whole idea created a flutter in his chest–a warmth that emanated through the rest of his body. He wanted to be home already.

But before he could go home, he had to destroy the dreams of Val’s partner and the pathetic writer that brought Val this lackluster script. Angel looked out the window and realized they were approaching their target. The offices were quite modest, nothing like Guerrero’s or Vercelli’s. But, they had been working with Valentino for years. His relationship with Valentino must have just began–or it had been on the decline for a while.

“We’ve arrived,” Jax said as the car stopped. He got out.

Angel Dust followed him out, hooking his purse onto his shoulder. He let Jax lead him from the sidewalk and up the stairs to the office building. He took one last glance at the car behind him. This wouldn’t take long.

“We’ve come to meet with Mr. Jullien for the pitch,” Jax said with little emotion to the secretary in the lobby.

“Yes, he is in another meeting currently, I’ll take you to the conference room to wait,” he said, standing up from his desk and leading the way.

Jax allowed Angel Dust to follow in front of him so he got a good look at the offices they passed. He looked around, seeing white walls and beautifully decorated office space. There were paintings and fancy wall sconces. If this director was making decent money, then why would Val sever–

Angel Dust’s eyes went wide as he passed another conference room. He stopped abruptly and Jax nearly slammed into him.

“Angel?”

Angel looked at Jax and continued walking. “Sorry about that, my heel almost fell off,” he lied. He’d only been able to see his back, but Angel knew that silhouette anywhere. It was Spitzers.

“Please wait here, Mr. Jullien will be in shortly.”

With that, the secretary excused himself and made his way out of the conference room. Angel took a seat at the far end of the table, and Jax sat beside him on his right. He took in the room. More white walls, more fancy carpet. There was a conference phone in the center of the table. A large TV hung on the wall on the other side of the room–likely for presentations. He gave a glance towards Jax.

He wondered if Jax knew anything about why Jullien was being fired. It was unlikely, but Jax was capable enough to draw his own conclusions. Afterall, he was able to witness what happened to Brut in real time. He had to have his own opinions regarding that utter failure.

But still, Angel kept quiet. So what if he knew about everything? It’s not as if either of them were in a position to act against orders. Angel shrugged and crossed his legs in his chair. He looked at his manila folder and opened it up. He gave the documents another read through and began to prepare himself.

He noted three good things about the script, and three things Jullien could work on with his director. He loved his formatting, stage direction and visualizations. While the material wasn’t unique, there were a lot of elements that made it his own. But, it was a rip-off of Valentino’s work plain and simple. It was likely to lose them money in the long-run.

The door opened suddenly and Angel’s attention was drawn to a shorter demon in a suit. He walked into the room, and towards the both of them. Angel and Jax stood as Jullien outstretched his hand to Angel first, then Jax.

“It’s great to see you today,” he said happily. “I’m hoping the script was to your liking.”

Angel nodded, “A great read,” he looked over at Jax for support–seeing as how he was the one to actually read it.

Jax nodded along as well.

“It was a relief to get a call back regarding this script. I know Valentino wants perfection from his directors, and I sought to give him just that.”

Angel smiled stiffly. Rip-offs maybe, he thought to himself as he sat back down. “Mr. Valentino recognizes that you’ve done an excellent job.”

“Marvelous news, will we be discussing scheduling today? I can call the director immediately to discuss–

“Unfortunately, Mr. Valentino has decided that he will no longer be workin' wit' your company.” Angel said as he pulled out the red envelope from the manilla folder.

Jullien gasped, shock registering on his face for a moment before overwhelming anger took its place. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jax left Angel Dust inside at the front desk while he arranged to have the car come back. The meeting didn’t last nearly as long as he thought. Angel wasn’t intending on pulling out the card until the end of their meeting, but to be honest, Jullien was acting really pompous. It was like he didn’t even realize that he was ripping off other directors’ hard work. There was even a shibari scene that he knew was directly pulled from Guerrero’s latest picture–and it was just released. How dense could you be? Angel thought as he crossed his arms.

“Looks like you made it out of there unscathed,” Angel heard a familiar voice say from beside him.

He looked over at Spitzers, a smile going to his face. “He doesn’t take rejection well,” Angel commented. “You might wanna make yourself scarce. He probably knows you’re the reason Val cut him loose.”

Spitzers chuckled. “My first deal back in this ring and Val already caught wind of it.”

“He’s a real basta’d,” Angel said.

Spitzers dipped his head low, his voice lower. “You never answered me before.”

Angel knew immediately what he was referring to. All those months ago when Spitzers had his meeting with Guerrerro–when he asked him if their fling was worth it. Angel considered his question. His answer would have been a resounding “yes” in the moment. Val using it against Brut and Agony turned their moment to ashes in his mouth, however. Now that there were months between him and the guilt he felt following their termination…

“We had fun, for sure,” Angel Dust said, closing his eyes. “But don’t you think we should be focusing on other things?”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

Angel looked over at him. “You clearly have a knack for this business,” Angel said. “If you’re itching to invest–invest in yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

Angel Dust looked around the lobby–noting that even the secretary was gone, likely out to lunch. He rummaged through his purse quickly and pulled out a pen. He took Spitzers’ arm and began writing something on it. He held his hand for a moment, and stared into his eyes.

“If you can’t work with Valentino, why not become Valentino?”

Spitzers looked down at his arm, at two phone numbers etched onto his skin. Before he had a chance to respond, Angel had already sauntered off.

“So where do you usually go on your walks?” Angel Dust asked, sucking down his celebratory iced coffee as Husk gingerly placed Fat Nugget’s leash on him.

Husk stood and Fat Nuggets giddily began running towards the door. He tightened his grip on the leash, not letting him get far. “It varies, sometimes I have errands to run.”

“I can’t picture you and my pig going to the post office,” Angel poked fun.

Husk let out a scoff. “The girls love him there,” he said.

Angel Dust gasped, throwing a hand out and catching Husk on the shoulder. “You’re jokin’.”

Husk didn’t respond, instead he just led the two of them out the door.

Angel Dust watched as Fat Nuggets waddled happily down the sidewalk. He followed by Husk’s side–which Husk must have taught him, because Angel certainly didn’t. Fat Nuggets was as undisciplined as his father. It looked like a little bit of regulation did his pig good, and he recognized that it also did himself good.

Angel was finding joy in being outside on a walk rather than cooped up in his room avoiding Charlie. His room was clean and his laundry was done and put away. Things were going well with Cherri, too–he no longer felt the need to avoid responding to her texts when they came in. Things were going…great. And that concept was as foreign to Angel as the feeling that was overcoming him on their walk today.

“What?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm?” Angel asked, realizing that he was staring at Husk intently as he pondered. “Nothin’.”

“We’re almost at the deli, you hungry?”

“There’s a deli up this way?” Angel asked, ignoring the question.

“Yeah, we visit sometimes–the wraps are great.”

Angel’s mouth started watering. He skipped lunch, so he was starving. He hoped that Husk couldn’t hear his stomach growling. “Well, if it’s close,” Angel said, hiding his smile from Husk.

In a few minutes, Husk opened the door to the deli and Angel was hit with the inviting smell of fresh bread beckoning him forward. If his mouth had stopped watering before, this was surely going to make it start up again.

“Look who’s back,” someone called from behind the counter. “Bess, the pig is here.”

“Fat Nuggets!” A girl yelled from the kitchen.

Angel heard dainty footfalls speeding towards them. A small imp began racing towards Fat Nuggets and he greeted her happily. Angel heard Fat Nuggets oink happily at their reunion. He looked over at Husk, who shrugged.

“Glad to see the boyfriend this time,” the imp behind the counter said, not looking up from his crossword.

“We’re here for lunch,” Husk said, ignoring the comment. “Hit us up with two wraps. To go.”

“You don’t want to stay?” Bess asked, her eyes wide.

Husk looked over at Angel, asking him with his eyes what he’d like to do.

“We can stay for a bit,” Angel nodded at him.

Husk sighed. Deeply. He wrestled for his wallet and tossed over some cash to the imp. He rang him up quickly and shot a look over at Bess to get back to work.

“Okay, I’m going,” she said regretfully. “I’ll be back with your food.” She made her way back to the kitchen sadly. Just when Angel thought they’d be rid of her, she popped her head back out. “And a snack for Fat Nuggets.”

Husk grabbed them a booth and sat opposite Angel–who was smiling widely. When he looked up, he groaned. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Angel said with a shit-eating grin.

Husk blushed, “You don’t need to, I know what you’re thinking.”

“You really should treat your boyfriend with more respect,” Angel lectured him. “Afterall, you and your boyfriend are on a date right now.”

Husk rose from the booth, clearly done with Angel’s teasing. Angel stood and caught him by the shoulders, forcing him to sit back down,

“I was jokin’, I was jokin’,” Angel said, giggling. “Gosh, don’t get so embarrassed.”

Husk kept his eyes closed, his cheeks stained red. “When I brought Fat Nuggets in here before, Belise asked if I was his owner.” He looked past Angel and towards Belise at the counter. “But I’m not sure how me answering ‘no’ turned into me walking him for my boyfriend,” he said, eyes glaring over at the imp.

Belise waved, “I used to walk somebody’s pet–that’s how I got Bess.” He gestured towards the kitchen.

Angel looked back at Husk, who promptly hid his ever-reddening face in his hands.

“I’m never coming here again,” Husk said, clearly mortified.

Angel laughed, patting Husk on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Husky. We don’t have to tell ‘em I’m your boyfriend,” Angel cooed.

“You could do worse, Husky,” Belise said.

“Could everyone please stop talking?”

“Order up,” Bess said, carrying two trays of food their way. She even had a little plate on top of her head–for presentation. She placed their trays in front of them and then grabbed the other and put it on the floor. She cut up some fresh veggies for Fat Nuggets.

Angel gasped lightly, seeing at how happy Fat Nuggets was. He grabbed his phone and snapped a picture quickly. “Isn’t he just the cutest?” Angel asked, showing the picture to Husk.

“He’s spoiling his dinner,” Husk said, tearing at the wrapping their lunch came in. He opened his mouth wide and took a bite.

Angel laughed at his phone and turned it to Husk again, so he could see the photo he got of him eating. “You look cute when you eat, too.”

Husk glared at Angel and turned away from him as he ate. “Would you just eat?”

Angel put down his phone and smiled. He grabbed the first sustenance he’d had this whole day and began chowing down. It might have been the hunger talking–but this was the best wrap he’d ever fucking had. The tomatoes were fresh and crispy, the onions were zingy and there wasn’t too much lettuce. The meat was moist too!

“Fuck, Husky, this is so good,” Angel said, nearly moaning.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he lectured. “But, yeah, it’s good.”

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#Blacklist #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel #husk #angel dust #HuskerDust #angelhusk

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