Male Reader One Shots!

Death - Connor X Male!Assassin!Reader (pt. 2)

(Sorry for not updatin in a while... since school started up my life's been filled with panic attacks and constant stress 🙃🙃(also yall realllllyyy gon hate me for this sksksksksk))

[(y/n)'s pov]

    When I finally got home, I placed my equipment back into it place. Max was asleep on the couch, normally I would tell him to get off, but I was too tired, and had other things I had to attend to. I stretched as I slowly made my way to my computer, I was going to update my website and finally tell people that I was ending my business. I hesitated before I finalized the update to my website. Was I really going to do this? Was it really worth it? I sat in my chair, simply staring at the draft for my mainpage.

    "As of 10/22/2039 I will be ending my services.

Quite a few of my previous clients have attempted to sell me out to local authorities. My media presence is too large, and my work is simply not profitable enough to continue. I will be selling my weapons then dropping off of the face of the dark web.

Thank you for all of your patronage,

Mr. (l/n)"

I sighed, and with a single click, I saved the draft. I couldn't do it. Killing for money was the only thing I was good at. I sighed, turned off my computer, and went to bed.

    I woke up to the sound of my 'alternate work' phone ringing, it was still dark outside. I picked up the annoying device and saw the time, who the fffuuuck thought disturbing me at 6:46 in the morning was a good idea? I answered the phone, near ready to murder whoever was on the other side. "This better be one of the most god damn important things in the world, or I will choose you as my next hit." - "Whoa, someone's grumpy," I recognized the voice on the other end, she was a common client of mine, but her requests usually meant that I'd have to travel out of the country, which I was not up to do. "Not here for the chit-chat, get on with it, Mila." I sat up and cracked my back while stretching. "Ugh, you're always business, but fine," She replied with her thick German accent, "I have a certain cunt that's been messing with my distribution branch in Detroit, so no traveling this time." - "Perfect, I was just about to turn your offer down, don't feel like traveling." I said. I heard her laughing from the other end. "Great! His name is Tod Jamal," I grabbed a pen and a notepad, then began jotting down the information, "he's been robbing my footmen and reselling the coke, fortunate for you though, he sticks out like a sore thumb, you'll have no problem finding him." Before I could ask for a better description, she hung up. I ran my hand though my hair and sighed. Might as well get it done now. I found my pistol, silencer, an average book bag, and my mask, then left to find the guy.

    I had been walking for about ten minutes, I had to get this done quickly while it was still dark out. I had my hood up, covering my mask. It was extremely cold out, my breath fogged up in the air around the rain. Mila was right though, he was waaay to obvious. "Hey, you look like the kinda guy that would be sellin' blow." I said in a near whisper. He shrugged, "You may or may not be right in your assumption." He turned around and began walking down a nearby alley way, I followed. We made a turn, and were out of view of the street. "So, who's your provider?" I asked, I wanted to be 100% sure I got the right guy. "Oh well, ya' know, people." He replied while pulling out a mini ziplock bag full of Mila's coke, I could tell because it had her signature, cursive "M" on it. "Oh, like other dealers, that may or may not get their supplies from a major drug cartel, based in Germany," I said while I quickly twisted the silencer on to the pistol and placed the barrel of the gun against his forehead, "is that right, Tod Jamal?" - "Whoa! Hey, l-look buddy, I don't know, or care where the others got it from," he said as he whipped out a glock, "all I care 'bout is the money." I heard a bang, followed by a sharp pain in my abdomen, I didn't flinch, I didn't move a muscle. I simply stood there, keeping the barrel trained on his frontal lobe. The smug look on his face quickly disappeared when we both heard the click of his glock, he had no more bullets. "You know," I said as I backed him into a corner, "a smart man always keeps his gun loaded, but then again, you don't seem to be very bright." I pulled the trigger and watched his body fall limp. I guess someone called the 12 when they heard Tod's gun go off, because I heard the sirens in the distance. I grabbed the coke hastily shoved it into my bag. I couldn't leave through the entrance, because someone might see me. I glanced around me, I saw a fire escape ladder, leading to the roof of a building, and a nearby dumpster. I wasted no time climbing on top of the dumpster, and jumping towards the suspended ladder. Since I was using my upper-body strength to climb, I could feel the wound better than before, the pain was absolutely agonizing, I began seeing spots in my vision, but I ignored them, I had no time to worry about them, especially because I heard quickly approaching footsteps.