Every Single Second (Tommy x Reader) Whump Oneshot

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Summary: This was a request over at my Tumblr account (@fallatyourfeet) I've never written a whump fic before, so I hope it works.

Tommy and the reader spend a beautiful night out, but the evening doesn't end so well.

Word count: 1388

Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, threats, violence against women. Both Tommy and reader are injured.

A/N: Full disclosure. I know what a whump fic is, but I have never written one before. Nor have I ever really sought them out to read. So I really hope this qualifies. Sorry anon, if it doesn't. I tried my best.

Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think

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You remembered every single second. Every fucking one. It wasn't supposed to be that way. You were always told that the moments before and during traumatic events, were lost to the dark and forgotten regions of your mind. Locked away. At least, until your body had time to heal. To come back to you, slowly and sporadically in flashes of hazy images. But no. Every second of that night replayed with vivid horrifying clarity, every time you closed your eyes in the cold hard bed of the hospital. And you guessed from the way Tommy woke up screaming out your name, that he remembered every fucking second too.

It had been the perfect evening. Good food, good wine and the undivided attention of the man you loved. It had been a trying couple of months. Tommy had been distracted and absent, both physically, and when he was home, emotionally too. It was not an unusual thing, you had grown accustom; albeit reluctantly, to the ebbs and flows of Tommy's behaviour. You understood it, knew the pressures and stress and dangers his ambitions created through every facet of his life. But you put up with it. Not only because you loved him, but because you knew he loved you. And you knew, with your help and patience, the distraction and emotional distance, would pass. He would always find his way back to you. And that night was the end of a very frustrating stretch of weeks.

Tommy had come home that afternoon with a smile. Slipping a pearl necklace from his jacket, he handed it to you, kissing you softly as he whispered against your ear. "I've made reservations at your favourite restaurant." Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his watch, and after a quick glance, he added, "That gives us just over an hour." Looking back to you, his blue eyes spoke without need of words, telling you exactly how he wanted to spend the majority of that time. But just in case you weren't listening, his fingertips moved to the buttons of your blouse, while his teeth nibbled at your ear; it was torture of the most blissful kind. And the rest of the evening unfolded in an equally glorious way, from the second he walked through the door, until the moment the car reached the lonely road leading home, the night had been perfection.

Tommy drove with his eyes trained to either one of two places, the road ahead, or you; struggling to keep his gaze from your features. You could see it... he was happy, your joy was his joy; and he didn't want to look away. That's why you were the one to notice it first. Heading towards the intersection just a few hundred yards from your driveway, you first heard the distant hum of an engine. Sitting up a little straighter, you searched the road around you, quickly catching Tommy's attention. But the moonless sky made it impossible to see anything beyond the car's headlights... that was until you neared the intersection.

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