#there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tomthesoftie · 3 years

Note

Hi! I've recently discovered your blog and I love it 😍. I was also wondering, if you could write a fic (obviously if you like the idea, no pressure at all) where the reader is a an assassin, in love with mob!tom. Her last mission was a failure and she came home injuried. Tom was scared to death because she didn't text him or call him (obviously). She was trying to help Tom with his business but she underestimates the other mob. Tom helps her cleaning the wounds, they argued at first but I'm a puddle for happy endings. Thank you for your time, have a nice day 🥰🥰🥰

her blood-stained bodysuit

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff, action (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of blood, mild gore, fighting, mentions of guns, mentions of hickey, language

❧ a/n: though i should’ve worked on my script for my final, i worked on this instead. i’m not procrastinating, i have everything planned out lmao nah. this fic wasn’t supposed to be as “gore-y” as it came out as, but, like, it’s whatever. hope you enjoyed this fic because i worked on it for like three days lmao. alright bye xx

part 2!

masterlist prompt list

Walking into the run-down building, you gripped your gun tightly, eyes open for any sudden attacks. Your ears strained as they listened for any sounds.

You were suited in an all-black bodysuit, handgun holster around your waist. Your hair had been tightly tied into a bun, no loose hair out to get in your face. A mask had covered half of your face, hiding your identity.

You barely knew the place you were heading into, but you knew it enough to assassinate your target and escape. You had planned the entire event out. First, you’d rid the place of any cameras and enemy attackers. Then, you’d set a distraction opposite to where you were heading. Finally, once you reached your destination, you’d quickly shoot your target, leaving them a milli-second to breathe before falling cold to the ground. Your escape was easy. You’d climb out of the window and fall right into your vehicle, allowing yourself a fast escape.

As you stepped into the dark, musty building, you saw the first cameras you needed to shoot out. What didn’t occur to you was the loud echo traveling through the entire building: your first mistake.

You continued on, hiding when you saw the first sign of your enemy’s men but continuing once they passed. Unexpectedly, when you began to carry yourself further, you felt a presence watching you. The butt of your gun swung back, hitting someone in the side. They let out a loud groan, alerting everybody nearby. You quickly shot the man dead, rushing to the nearest exit. Unfortunately for you, there was no path for you to escape. There were men in every exit you planned to use when in case of an emergency.

It was like they already knew you were coming.

Deciding to take your chances, you ran, shooting and dodging bullets being shot your way. Luckily, you were a trained assassin with much experience. You found yourself at an exit when someone was able to land a shot in your thigh. Groaning in pain, you perspired on, not letting them take you in. Throwing the broken-down doors shut, you limped your way to the doors out of the building. Thinking you had escaped all the men, you let your guard down for a second to tend to your wounded leg.

In the midst of your pain, you didn’t notice the man coming up from behind you. He threw a harsh hit to your head, knocking you off balance. With your already injured leg, you fell over easily, head hitting the rugged ground beneath you. You felt a sharp pain spike the side of your head before feeling a warm liquid run down the side of your face.

Reaching a hand up to feel the warm liquid, you saw red and fired your gun at the grinning man above you. You shot him dead, bullets continuously lodging into his chest. His shirt soaked with his blood.

“Asshole,” you muttered before getting back on your way.

When you finally reached your car, you took off as fast as you could, knowing that if you didn’t get going, they would be trailing you all the way back.

Tom was in his office, reading over some papers when the door abruptly opened. He snapped his head up in anger, knowing that his men knew not to barge in without knocking or they’d face the consequences.

“You better have a good reason as to why-” when he saw Harrison panting and wide-eyed, he paused, worry taking over his thoughts. “What happened?”

“Y/N’s missing,” the blonde said, breathlessly.

“What do you mean missing?” Tom asked, attention fully on Harrison.

“She isn’t in her room or the gym. I’ve tried calling her multiple times, but it keeps going to voicemail,” Haz explained.

“Fuck,” Tom whispered, rushing out of his office to find you.

You threw the car door shut, feeling hazy at the loss of blood. Holding your head in pain, you limped before the doors of your home before falling over, vision going black.

“Tom, the system says someone’s entered the code into the gate,” Haz said as he saw the notification pop up on the security system.

“That has to be her,” Tom said before running to the home’s main doors.

Pulling open the large door, he was revealed to your limp body laying on the cold floor, with dried blood covering you and fresh blood tangled in your hair. For a moment, Tom assumed the worst and thought you were dead, when he brought himself back to logicality. He placed two fingers to your neck, successfully locating your weak pulse. He let out a happy sigh but remembered that you were still bleeding heavily and needed to be treated right away.

He lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into your shared room. He passed a concerned-looking Harrison, telling him to get the medical supplies.

You woke to the feeling of a wet cloth wiping down your cheek. Flinching away from the contact, your eyes weakly shot open to see your brunette boyfriend.

“Tom,” your voice came out weak and hoarse.

“Shh, darling, you need to rest,” he silenced you as he wiped you clean from your blood.

Tom wasn’t mad at you, only a bit frustrated. He wondered why you put yourself at such risk. He knew you to make logical, smart decisions, but here you were, lying in bed severely drained of your blood. He sighed aloud at your recklessness.

His weight lifting off the bed, he stood to put away the bloody towelette, shaking his head as he was consumed by his own thoughts. You watched his back, and you could practically see the disappointment radiating off of him.

“I know I fucked up alright?” You croaked, sighing in shame.

“It’s just so unlike you to be so, so-” a hand reached up to massage his temples, “Just be more careful next time.”

“No,” you bit back, hearing the irritation in his voice, “please, finish your sentence.”

“It doesn’t matter what I was going to say becau-”

You cut him off, “It does matter. What were you going to say about me?” You suddenly felt a surge of energy run through your veins.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? You need to rest,” he tried to tuck you under the covers, only to be pushed away by a weak hand.

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just want to know what you thought about me,” you snapped.

“Fine, if you want to know so much, I was going to say reckless. It’s so unlike you to be so reckless. There, I said it,” he fired back, annoyed by your consistent nagging.

You scoffed in disbelief, “I was not being reckless. I had a plan, a well-thought out plan at that, but they somehow intercepted it. I can’t predict things like that happening. At least I had a backup plan or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You shifted in bed, trying to sit upright, flinching when your head spun at the sudden movement. You grabbed the aching side, trying to subdue the pain.

“Lay down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more, if you sit up,” the accented voice said demandingly.

You sneered at the demand but listened, regardless.

“I know what I’m doing, you know? I’m a well-trained assassin, not to mention one of the best ones yet,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I know that. That’s why I’m confused about how you came back so heavily injured. I expected you to know better,” he huffed, turning the light of the room off.

The last comment had hit you harder than you expected. You knew he had high expectations of you, but you never thought he would put you down for messing up once.

Glancing at his silhouette, you never felt as much dislike for a person than you did Tom, at that moment. You liked being critiqued but not insulted. Your line of work was very important, and your pride was big.

He slid into his space beside you, laying flat on his back, arms crossed over the covers. You remained laying on your side beside him, not sparing him a glance.

A wet streak slid down the side of your nose, another following over the bridge of your nose. Reaching a hand up to wipe the liquid away, you realized it was your tears. You tried to quietly sniffle away your tears, but Tom heard them clearly in the radio silent room.

You weren’t supposed to be weak. You weren’t supposed to shed tears late at night. You were an assassin for fuck’s sake.

“You know, I was doing it for you,” you whispered. “I was trying to get rid of that stupid asshole that’s been targetting you this entire time,” your tears began to come down harder.

“Darling, why would you do that? As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer it more if you came home safely and not bleeding out,” he spoke, turning to wrap an arm around your waist.

“I just wanted to help,” you sniffled, cuddling into his warmth.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was just worried about you,” he murmured as he planted wet kisses on your bare shoulder.

“I know, but it still hurt,” you replied, lifting a hand up to wipe away your excess tears.

“I’m sorry, princess. Can you forgive me?” His lips attacked the supple skin of your neck, gently sucking and leaving a purple mark behind.

You hummed, a hand snaking behind you to push him away, “Yes, I forgive you. Now, leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Alright, love. Let’s sleep,” he smiled into your neck, arms encasing you in a warm hug, and before you knew it, you fell into a deep sleep.

293 notes · View notes