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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Masterlist

Carlton Drake x Reader (Venom)

Apples and Cinnamon - You were convinced that you and Carlton had the perfect relationship that many envied until he starts choosing work over you. The happiness that your friends show when they announce their engagement reminds you that your own relationship isn’t as strong as it used to be. You try to hold onto what was left of it, only to accept that things weren’t so simple anymore. Angst, fluff, mentions of anxiety FINISHED

The Start - The Rope - The Excuses - The Calm - The Storm

Sequel Coming Soon

Prospecting Gold - AU, The Sister Brothers crossover. Your boyfriend, Carlton, takes you on a vacation to meet his twin, Hermann, for the first time at Hermann’s country home in Dallas. During the vacation, you and Carlton learn through Hermann and his fiance, John, whether either of you are ready for marriage. Fluff, Hermann and John being relationship counselors lol

Chapter One - ?

One-Shots:

Horror’s Ultimate - Inspired by The Brain that Wouldn’t Die (1962). You and your fiance Carlton Drake were on your way home when a storm hit, causing the car to veer off the road. When you come to, you were the most injured, unable to move your body. Carlton swears he’ll do anything to make you better again, and you fear he’ll do exactly what you warned him not to do. Car crash, swearing, some dark themes, angst

Take My Hand... - AU. You attend your best friends’ wedding with your boyfriend, Carlton, and came up with a plan to get him to dance with you. FLUFF, friends to lovers mentioned

Just a Friend - College AU. You’re late for a study session with your best friend, Carlton, only for him to find that you’ve fallen ill. Visibly irritated, but internally concerned, he spends the rest of the day to take care of you. Fluff, mutual pining

Tommy Akhtar x Reader (City of Tiny Lights)

Partners - You require the services of a private detective called Tommy Akhtar to track down the people who are after your family, but you are not going to stand by and let him do all the work. You weren’t asking permission to take part, but only acknowledgement in your skills. As the two of you delve deeper into the illegal trade market, family secrets are revealed, bridges will be burnt, and the past comes back to haunt you. Slow-burn, angst, mentions of abuse/trauma, hurt/comfort, fluff

ON HIATUS

Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII - Chapter VIII - Chapter IX - Chapter X - Chapter XI - Chapter XII - Chapter XIII - Chapter XIV

Bodhi Rook x Reader (Rogue One)

The Kyber Soldier - AU, The Avengers/Captain America crossover. After escaping an Imperial augmentation lab, you were found frozen by the Resistance and awaken to find that the Empire, along with your best friend, Bodhi Rook, is gone, but another dark force had taken its place. Now an intelligence officer working under General Leia, you were to meet an informant when a mysterious figure known as the Kyber Soldier intercepts. Slow-burn, mentions of torture/trauma, angst?, hurt/comfort, why do I do this to myself?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapters 3 4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15-16-17-18

Cassian Andor x Reader (Rogue One)

One-Shots:

Somewhere Only We Know - You’re a mechanic for the resistance who has a massive crush on a certain captain and everyone knows it but him. One restless night leads to many outings of simple stargazing with said captain. Slow-burn, fluff, hints of depression

Is That Bibinka? - Filipina!Reader. Your best friend and neighbor decides to try and bake your favorite Filipino dessert for your birthday while your friends create a silly plan to make him confess his feelings for you. FLUFF, friends to lovers, mutual pining

Poe Dameron x Reader (Star Wars)

Drabble:

Spoiled - You end up eating spoiled food and got sent straight to the medbay. Your boyfriend, Poe, rushes to your side to comfort you. Fluff, mentions of vomiting

Updated: 4/16/2019

#Masterlist #Kendra's Masterlist #carlton drake x reader #Carlton Drake imagine #Tommy Akhtar x reader #Tommy Akhtar imagine #Cassian andor x reader #Cassian Andor imagine #Riz Ahmed #Diego luna #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #crossovers #bodhi rook x reader #Bodhi as the winter soldier #Oscar Isaac #rogue one imagine #Rogue one x avengers #Venom x The sisters brothers

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Partners (4) | Tommy Akhtar x Reader

Words: 2392

Warning: Not much… please let me know if there are

A/N: Reader and Tommy finally acting into the case and reader finally meets Shelly. More talk about Bond.

You and Tommy had a new arrangement, different than what you had originally planned, but given your current situation, it was for the best. The clouds were letting up that day, so the sky didn’t look as dreary as the day before. Tommy didn’t talk about what happened at the cemetery besides what Shelly had told them about the banker and you didn’t push it. In the four days you’ve known each other, you were slowly getting in tune to each other’s thoughts and personalities. Tommy was more considerate with you and cigarettes by smoking while he’s outside the car and facing away when you’re outside together. So far, you fortunately hadn’t run into your dreaded uncle and you seemed to be more stable than the past two or three days.

After your discussion at the cemetery parking lot, you decided to quit the diner. The manager was sad to see you go, as well as some of the regulars that you helped serve, but it had to be done. Tommy told you about his dad’s health conditions and agreed to help remind him about taking his medication and lay off the booze. Meanwhile, you continue your search for the art collector and the connections with Davenport, trying to find their motive behind all those cases.

No one had contacted you yet, which somewhat surprised you. Your family wasn’t the type to just talk and check in with each other unless they need something. They were aware about what you’ve been investigating, although they don’t know about your investigation partner. You thought they would have at least checked in the progress of the investigation. It should be a relief that you were allowed breathing space and you try to shrug off the feeling that they were slightly behind the predicted schedule.

You were currently seated in the car, parked across of your targeted bank. From the logo that Davenport carries around, this should be the one that he worked at. You made note of the people walking in and out, checking for anyone that looked remotely like the mysterious art collector or any of the art collectors that Davenport was associated with. So far, you got nothing.

“One six-inch onion chicken sub,” Tommy announced, suddenly appearing near your car window.

You rolled down the window and grabbed the sandwich and drink from him, so he could climb into the passenger’s seat with more ease. You sipped on the soda as you scanned the streets out of growing habit. Tommy watched as you forced yourself to relax, rolling the window back up and taking a bite of your sandwich.

“So,” he said, swallowing down a bite, “have you come up with a Bond girl name, yet?”

You coughed to hide a laugh, having initially thought he was going to bring up something serious like the case. “Well, Lotus is definitely going to be in there somewhere,” you said.

“The color and the word lotus? Golden Lotus? Crimson Lotus? What’s your favorite color anyways?”

“(Y/f/c),” you answered.

“Tommy Bond and (Y/f/c) Lotus,” he said dramatically, spreading his hands as if reading off a wide movie sign.

“That sounds lame.”

“It’ll catch on,” he insisted, biting into his own sandwich. He let out a loud moan, making a point to face you and chew slowly. You suppressed another laugh, turning away to take another sip of your soda. “Listen. You need to lighten up. I’m the detective here, alright? I need to be the scruffy, cynical, and brooding one in this dynamic, okay?”

“I don’t want to let my guard down,” you said.

Tommy nodded. “Fair enough. Maybe you can be Bond. I can be… your Bond boy,” he joked, pausing mid-bite as the suspected banker strolled up to the building. “At least we know we’ve got the right place.”

“Anything from the network?” you asked.

Since quitting the diner, you had to find other ways to keep in contact with your network. Before, it wouldn’t have been so bad, and you could have simply walk up to a beggar and pay them off for information. Now, you were paranoid. If your uncle could somehow find out your address, who knows what method he had used to track you down. So, instead, Tommy volunteered to check up on your network and you made sure they knew that he was an ally, adding your uncle on their watchlist.

“The London Museum is getting all hyped up for their new exhibit. It’s just flyers everywhere. Two of the art collectors that Davenport is associated with had visited the museum recently. I didn’t want our trackers to get too close, so they followed them and found the general area where they live,” Tommy said, pulling out a zoomed up printed London map from the glove compartment. There was a red circle around two areas in the East and the South-West, marking where the art collectors reside.

Your eyes briefly left the bank’s entrance to look at the map, leaning in closer. “Those are high-end suburban areas in London. It’s a good thing they didn’t get any closer,” you noted.

Tommy hummed in agreement. “We just need to find a way to get closer.”

“Follow them ourselves? Break into their house or sneak our way into a private party?”

He nodded. “We might have to. Which one are you more confident in, breaking into their house or sneaking into a party?” he asked with a straight face. “I, personally, would rather break in than attend a snobby party, but there’s free drinks, too.”

“Don’t want to wear a tux, Mr. Bond?” you played along.

“Do you want to see me in a tux, Miss Lotus?”

“I rather you in a tux than me in a dress. But, I also rather us in shady garb sneaking around suburban houses than either of us fancily dressed mingling with high-noses.” You thought for a moment, taking the time to finish up your sandwich. After swallowing, you said, “Do we have to break into their house, though? Can’t we just hack them or figure out how to steal Davenport’s bank statements for any money transference linked to the art collectors within our timeline?”

“You know how to do that stuff?”

You shrugged. “How hard can it be?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, as if saying “Are you serious?” You snorted, pushing his arm. “I’m kidding. I was the secretary in the family business, remember? I had to do a lot computer and paperwork, so I’ve hacked before. Besides, we could also sneak into his hotel room, rifle through his stuff, then pop back out.”

“That sounds easiest. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? We’ve wasted so much time because of you,” Tommy accused, crumpling his sandwich rap.

You threw your own rubbish at him and poised your hand above the car key. “Should we start heading out?” you asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You started the car and followed Tommy’s instructions towards the hotel that the banker had been staying at. Businessmen usually reserve a room at a nearby hotel when conducting shady meetings, often reserving the same room every time. Humans were creatures of habit after all. The hotel itself was away from the industrial and business area of the city, making it less likely for them to run into familiar faces. Luckily, Shelly worked at that hotel and had kept track of Davenport for the past few days, under the request of Tommy. He still hadn’t spoke to you about her much, and it really wasn’t your business. Although, you’ve shared a fair amount of your history, the fact that Tommy and his father offered their apartment to you was a fair enough trade in your opinion.

Tommy shifted around his seat as you drove, digging through his pockets. “What are you doing?” you asked him.

“Looking for my cigs,” he muttered, “Must’ve used them up already.”

“Want gum?” You held up the pack towards him without taking your eyes off the road.

“Thanks.”

He took the pack and pulled out a stick of gum, tossing the pack back after shoving the gum in his mouth. He leaned closer to the dashboard, peering through the windshield and pointed the next direction. You signaled left and turned. As the hotel came into view, Tommy leaned back in his seat with a sigh.

“Want to follow me inside?” he suddenly asked without looking at you.

“Thought you’d want me in the car so we could book it once you’ve got the information we needed?” you said.

Tommy shrugged. “We just saw him arrived at work. He won’t be back for a while. According to my friend, he doesn’t come around the hotel until nine or ten in the evening to meet his clients. Could use more eyes. Given the number of clients he meets, especially the nature of those meetings, he may keep some documents in the hotel’s safe. We can search around for more clues that involves your family or at least where he keeps his other documents or where he lives.

You didn’t push him and decided to follow along. If you couldn’t tell by the architecture or the size of the building, the interior of the hotel screamed expensive. This was the type of place where the rich come to stay either for a business trip, a get-away, or an affair. You felt out of place in your casual attire as you stepped into the chandelier lit lobby. Dusty rose drapes hung from the windows and parts of the ceiling, the walls were creme and the floors were marble, and the lights seemed to dim the further you walked in. Tommy led you to the side where the front desk was.

“Tommy,” a woman’s voice called out, causing the both of you to turn.

The same blonde woman from the cemetery walked up to Tommy with a big grin, wearing an elegant off the shoulder crème dress. She was gorgeous with her wavy shoulder length blonde hair, brown eyes, and bright contagious smile. Tommy greeted her, giving her a quick hug that you felt would have been longer if you weren’t here. He turned to you and held out a hand.

“Shelly, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), Shelly,” he introduced you.

“Hi,” you said, sticking a hand out to her.

“It’s nice to meet you. Tommy’s mentioned you before the other day,” Shelly said, taking your hand in a firm shake.

You released her hand and stuffed your hands in your coat. “Has he? I’m sure there wasn’t much to mention about me.”

“Well, he said you’re his new partner for the case he’s working on,” she said, glancing between you two. “Tommy usually works alone, so it was kind of surprising that he’s actually having someone help him for once.

“Really? Was he always this stubborn?”

Of course, they knew each other in school. You thought back to Tommy’s conversation with his dad the other day and how he mentioned that she was his friend’s girl. You tried to put the pieces together, although you’ve continued to remind yourself it shouldn’t be any of your business, but you couldn’t help it. It was a habit of yours to figure out someone with the clues you’re given. His friend must’ve been the one that passed away, hence meeting up at the cemetery and there was something going on between Tommy and Shelly.

“Yes! Ever since I can remember he- “

“Okay, if you ladies are done gossiping about me,” Tommy interrupted, stepping in between you and Shelly. “We need to continue on with some business.”

“I haven’t even reached the good part,” Shelly teased. Tommy gave her a warning look, which responded with a playful roll of her eyes. “Okay, come on. I have his room number and the housekeeping keys.”

“Stay close, alright,” Tommy whispered to you, his arm brushing yours as you set off to follow Shelly.

“Well, where else am I going to go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at his orders.

“There’s a few nosy people at this hotel. In case we get caught, at least we’d be together and think of a cover story,” he said.

“We came to bang,” you quipped with a firm nod of your head, as if he had agreed to use that cover story.

Tommy aggressively wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “That seems to be the running theme when it comes to lying about our relationship, hasn’t it? Didn’t realize you were that eager,” he said, referring to the time you messed with the other waitress back at the diner.

You pushed his arm off. “Have you been here before?” you wondered.

He stiffened, his eyes shifting away from you, briefly hovering over Shelly who continued to walk ahead of the two of you and not paying attention to your conversation. “And what makes you think that?”

You shrugged. “Nothing,” you said.

It wasn’t just the fact that he knew exactly how to find the hotel, his body language seemed that he was familiar with the stifling atmosphere of the fancy place. With his personality and line of work, he wouldn’t have chosen a hotel like this to stay in. He had headed straight for the front desk, he didn’t look around for it. He, at least, was familiar with the type of people that would visit the hotel and their behavior. Maybe it was just an assumption on his part with being familiar with high- and middle-class people in general. In the end, it was all speculation in your head.

Shelly lead the two of you towards the elevator and up to the upper floors before heading down the corridors to Davenport’s room. She handed Tommy the key, a silent exchange between them as they looked at each other. You busied yourself with memorizing the interior designs and the number of doors down the hallways. You jolted when Shelly laid a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry. It really was nice meeting you. Keep Tommy out of trouble, yeah?” she said with a small smile.

“I can’t promise that. You know him better than I do.” You were breaking into a banker’s private hotel room and about to rifle through and possibly steal confidential information. If anything, you were aiding him in trouble and Shelly was enabling it.

A/N: I actually liked Shelly in the movie and thought they were cute together, but this is a Tommy Akhtar x reader story and I liked the idea that reader and Shelly would quickly get along.

#Tommy Akhtar x reader #tommy akhtar imagine #City of Tiny Lights #Riz Ahmed #slow burn #partners

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Partners | Tommy Akhtar x Reader (1)

Words: 2,401

Pairing: Eventually Tommy Akhtar (City of Tiny Lights) x reader

Summary: You require the services of a private detective called Tommy Akhtar to track down the people who are after your family, but you are not going to stand by and let him do all the work. You weren’t asking permission to take part, but only acknowledgement in your skills. As the two of you delve deeper into the illegal trade market, family secrets are revealed, bridges will be burnt, and the past comes back to haunt you. Slow-burn!fic.

It was a typical rainy day in London when you huddled yourself on the stairwell in front of the private detective’s locked office. A friend of yours told you about him, how he gets the job done whether it’s to uncover or hide something. Right now, you needed to uncover something. You were tempted to do it yourself, since the authorities were no help at all, but you were afraid that you were way out of your depth when it comes to investigating. At least, you couldn’t do it alone. You only hoped that the job wouldn’t be too intimidating for him. Then, you’ll have little to no options left.

The smell of cigarettes were carried into the building with London’s chilling draft as the man in question, with short dark hair, five o’clock shadow, in a black leather jacket, walked up to his office. As he went to unlock the door, he paused and turned to you. He gave you a curt nod, opening the door wide enough for you to enter the dimly lit office. You smiled politely, straightening out your worn out coat and settled into the seat across from his desk.

He lit another cigarette, holding out the pack to you as a silent gesture. You held a hand out and shook your head. You were trying to avoid smoking anything. Seven years sobriety were doing you good, but you sometimes miss using a puff to take off the edge. He tucked his pack into his jacket and leaned back. You watched as he dragged out a long smoke. With his free hand, he gestured for you to show your case.

As if snapping out of a trance, you jumped a little in your seat, shifting around to pull out a hard drive from your coat pocket. His eyes narrowed, one hand starting up his laptop as he leaned forward to take it from you. Twirling it around in one hand, he used the other to pull the cigarette from his lips.

“And what’s this, exactly?” He asked in a rough voice, smoke blowing out as he spoke.

“I’m sure you’ve had all types of clients,” you started, sitting straighter with your hands on your lap, “and I’m sure you’ve used methods that were… questionable. My line of work has something to do with… taking back what has been stolen, although the public sees it as black market thievery. On the contrary, my job is to prevent any… items from accessing the black market.”

He plugged in the hard drive into his computer and opened up the files. “You’re hired by governments to take back their cultural artifacts from foreign museums,” he stated.

“Exactly. For years, operations have been going smoothly. Governments get their stolen artifacts back, and the issue of missing display pieces at the local museum is swept under the rug. Usually, we have some… allied authority figures that allows smooth routing, from border patrol to dock inspection. Several months ago, after an operation to take back several pieces before the grand opening of the new exhibit at the London museum, a few of my men were taken out and the pieces were brought back to the museum. I’ve questioned the guards at the docks and they’ve threatened to arrest me if I don’t keep quiet.”

You began to fiddle with your sleeves, crossing and uncrossing your legs. His eyes were trained on your face as you spoke, occasionally putting the cigarette to his lips. He glanced back at the screen and saw that it was password protected. He raised an eyebrow, turning the laptop towards you. You leaned forward to type the password in, the sleeves of your coat riding up, partially revealing a tattoo of a lotus on your left arm.

Leaning back, you continued, “It didn’t seem like a huge problem at first. Possibly some black market thieves that got paid from the museum. Then, it happened to a crew in China, then in Moscow, and then New York. There had been rumors, followed by patterns in the news…” You glanced at the laptop, prompting him to open the file.

His brown eyes scanned the collection of news articles. Sightings of dead bodies at the docks, swept aside by business corporations or celebrity scandals, and artifacts being stolen from museums right after the gran revealing, a few guards murdered at the scene of the crime.

“We may be labelled as thieves, but we never kill, Mr. Akhtar,” you said firmly, “With this going on, our business is essentially being framed for this mess and governments are turning on us. If this continues, they’ll be after our heads.”

“Our?” He asked, tapping his cigarette in the nearest ashtray.

“Family business,” you simply answered. The detective nodded, not pushing any further.

“Why not lay low until it blows over?”

“We are trying to, but it’s not going to simply blow over. It’s only the beginning and soon enough, countries will have us tracked down.” You sighed, pulling out a stick of gum from inside of your coat. After unwrapping it from the foil, you let it hang from your lips as you hands played with the wrapping.

“We’ve considered ending the business after the problem has been taking care of, knowing that we have friends who will take our place. Right now, it’s not possible,” you said, chewing one end of the gum. “I’m the only one from the family that hasn’t done much of the diplomatic or field work, so most don’t know that I’m part of the family. I guess I’m a glorified secretary, keeping track of our routes, inventory, documents, et cetera. Only a couple of times I’ve been out, the London operation being one of them.”

“That’s why you’re the one that came to me. Why me?” He stubbed out his cigarette, his eyes analyzing you. “How did you even heard about me?”

“I’ve got to have my own sets of eyes. Sometimes I need connections with people that could follow certain persons of interests to make sure they’re keeping their end of the deal, mostly when it comes to money,” you said with a shrug, chewing the rest of the gum, “A friend told me. I would go after this group if my movements weren’t so limited.”

The detective nodded in understanding, getting the gist of what you’re asking of him. “I charge three hundred a day. I’m sure you can handle that,” He said with a small smirk.

“With a city with many secrets, you should charge more,” you replied, taking out a brown envelope and fishing out two stacks of cash. “This should be enough for now.”

He grabbed the stacks, counting it through. “This is almost two weeks worth. What if I find them in one?” he challenged.

You shrugged. “Consider it a bonus. I can always give more if it does take more than two weeks to finish. I’m helping of course, so I doubt that it’ll come to that.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “And who is my client?”

You paused for a moment, then said, “(Y/f/n) Iotos.”

He stuck a calloused hand out. “Tommy Akhtar.” You took it and shook firmly. He knew it was a fake last name, and you figured that he was used to that. Last names didn’t matter for him to do the job.

You grabbed a notepad from his desk and wrote down your number, signing it off with a picture of a lotus. With that taken care of, you stood from your seat.

“I’ll have to head to my day job, now, but if anything comes up, text me first,” you told him as you headed towards the door.

His eyes scanned you once again, before he stood up from his seat to walk you to the front door. Halfway down the steps, he leaned in closer to you, the smell of cheap liquor and his natural scent more prominent under the layer of nicotine, making you dizzy for a moment.

“I’ve had to deal with a client awhile back that had not fully disclosed information that was useful to the investigation,” he said lowly, “so if you run into anything or something pops up that should have been mentioned earlier today, you call me.”

“Okay,” you managed to say before continuing down the steps and headed out the door, tugging your coat tightly around your body as you were exposed to the outside chill again.

You made your way to one of your close-to-normal job at a diner after taking a cab, shrugging off your coat once you’ve crossed the threshold, revealing the diner uniform. The usual customers from nearby businesses and apartments came and went throughout the day. Being the youngest of the family, as well as the only daughter, your father did not want you in the line of fire, but trusted you enough on being the mind behind the operations. The normal day jobs you had kept you sane in between operations and helped on giving you a cover and use of networking.

An old man in damp ragged clothing and a graying beard huddled in, occupying a booth at the back corner of the diner. You looked around, noting that it wasn’t too busy and went over to the old man. His light gray eyes raised from the table.

“I just want a dry place to stay,” he said roughly.

“How about a cuppa Joe, then?” you said.

He nodded, taking out pieces of folded papers with a shaky hand. “This is all I can offer you.”

You smiled at him kindly. “It should serve just fine,” you said, taking the paper. Digging into your apron, you made to grab your notepad, slipping your own folded paper with his payment tucked inside.

You walked to the back of the kitchens, checking that no one was around before opening the papers. It was a couple of screenshots taken from a cctv camera, the street scribbled at the bottom in black ballpoint pen. Two men in expensive suits looking warily down the streets, meeting two other figure at the Drunken Barrel, a bar a few blocks away. That type of bar was no place for businessmen like themselves. They had your usual drug dealers, gang members, and excons. Really shady and dangerous.

From what memory serves you, the other figures in the picture worked for a smuggling group. There had been a couple of run ins with that group, and there had been a truce between them and your family’s business that they continuously tried to cross, trying to find loopholes into their agreement to get away with it.

By habit, you almost made a move to destroy it, but the detective’s words stopped you. You would have to show the screenshots to him. Instead, you tucked the papers back into your apron and went out to finish your shift before your manager snaps at you.

Stuffing your uniform in a backpack you kept in your locker, you made your way to a corner booth, having placed an order with the cook before clocking out. A familiar figure had walked right in before you could lift your phone to text him. Tommy leaned down as if to kiss the top of your head.

“Thought coming in was better than texting,” he whispered, shrugging off his jacket as he slid into the seat across from you.

“It’s fine.” You said casually, flashing a smile as you reached over to grab his hand from across the table, slipping the papers to him. He grabbed it, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Here’s your house combo,” your nasally coworker interrupted, setting the plate down with a clatter in front of you. When she noticed your handsome company, she batted her eyelashes and giggled. “I’m sorry, what can I get you, sweetie?”

“Coffee should be fine,” he paused, looking over at you, as you rolled your tired eyes at her flirting, “two actually. Seems like my girl wasn’t given her drink.”

She blinked, looking back at you as if she forgot you were there. You rested an elbow on the table and leaned against the palm of your hand. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he went on.

“She’s going to need all that caffeine for what I planned for her tonight,” he said, shooting a wink at you.

Your eyes widened at the implication, followed by an amused smirk as the waitress became flustered. Honestly, you didn’t even bother to remember her name. She was constantly flirting with customers and constantly belittling you. Two birds with one stone.

“Babe, no one needs to know that,” you pretended to scold him, hitting his shoulder, although the nickname was foreign on your lips.

“Or should we go right now?” he asked, forcing an eager look on his face as he made to grab his jacket.

“Uh, um, I’ll get your coffee,” she said quickly before rushing off to the counter.

You snickered. “Do you do this to all your clients?” you asked him.

Tommy shook his head. “Nah, it’s just that you looked very bored. I can’t have someone I’m working with sleeping on the job now, can I?”

“So you’re considering letting me work with you,” you said, digging into your food.

“Maybe. You seem to be in good standing with the street life here. I’ve asked around for you and none of the homeless seemed to know who you are or what you look like despite living in the same spot for months on end. I’d imagine that your job had regular hours as well, so it’s not to hard to notice a regular face,” he said casually.

“You’re very quick, Mr. Akhtar.” You pointed your fork at him. “And why would you be asking around for me? You have my number.”

“Tommy,” he corrected. “And think of it as a small background check so I know who I’m working with.”

“Well, Tommy,” you said, emphasizing his name playfully, “What do you think?”

“Lets just say that I no longer doubt your skills… for now. At least, it’s something that I wouldn’t think a simple diner waitress would be capable of.”

“Basically, you doubted that I could be any use to you on the investigation besides what I already know. Since you know I’m quite capable, we should see each other as partners,” you summarized.

“Partners.”

#city of tiny lights #tommy akhtar x reader #riz ahmed #tommy akhtar imagine #but oops #this happened #i just don't know how to get more people to notice my fics #are they that boring?#dont answer that #actually #please leave feedback #i'm just publishing whatever comes to mind rn

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

Text

Partners (5) | Tommy Akhtar x Reader

Words: 2543

Warning: implied childhood trauma, anxiety

A/N: Ey, so my A&C series ended, and I finally made a simple outline for the rest of this series so I’m actually making progress. Yay! I have so many wips, though lol, but I’m trying to make a one-shot without it evolving into a series like last time.

You really weren’t sure what you were expecting the hotel room to look like. Maybe dark red walls and gold trimmings to match the lavish façade and the scandalous deeds done in that hotel? You guessed that’s what happens when you watch too many TV dramas. They were all filled with rich people doing bad things behind closed doors as if they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides drugs, sex, and making even more money through illegal means. But to say the latter would be somewhat hypocritical on your part. Your family does run an illegal business stealing back artifacts and smuggling them to their original owners. In a sense, your family was more like Robin Hood than the nobles and the church in the story.

No, the room was much larger than the living room of your apartment with a large bathroom attached. Crème colored walls and tan drapes, but the trimming was very close to being gold. The bed was king size with freshly made sheets in a four-post bed frame and dark brown curtains pulled up. A decent sized flat screen tv was mounted on the wall across the bed above a mahogany cabinet and dresser.

“Talk about a VIP suite,” Tommy muttered, walking over to the bedside drawers.

“Different from the other rooms, is it?” you asked casually, peaking into the sliding doorway to the bright white bathroom.

You duck around to the corner of the room, looking for the targeted safe. Tommy did a double-take as he was about to answer your remark only to find you were nowhere to be found. You had dropped to the soft patterned carpet, looking for any hint of a metal box. Finally, behind the cushioned armchair in the corner by the balcony double doors, you spotted something. You popped back up, carefully lifting the chair to the side to reveal the safe, a cube metal with a number pad.

“We need the combination,” you said, mostly to yourself, “or maybe not. Damn, I left my bag in the car. Maybe there’s something in the bathroom I can use. Damn it.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Tommy said as he sifted through the drawers.

“Yeah, hi, I’m busy,” you said offhandedly, heading towards the bathroom.

“Oh, yeah, Tommy, I found the safe, by the way. How ‘bout you come take a look at it,” Tommy mimicked your voice as he sulked.

“If you have something powdery, that it would be a big help, or at least see if Davenport had foolishly written the combination code somewhere in the room. Oh, is there a notepad in here and a pencil?” You popped back into the main room and searched through the drawers on the other side of the bed and pulled out a notepad and half of a pencil, lightly shading it for indentations.

“Got anything?” Tommy asked, walking over to you and peered over your shoulder.

“Not numbers, exactly, but some names. Addresses maybe?” You handed the notepad over to Tommy who ripped out the sheet and pocketed after reading it over. “Do hotels keep a list of combinations?”

“Do I look like I’d know that stuff?”

You shrugged. “Just asking. Thought Shelly might’ve mentioned something. It’s not like I’m a regular at fancy hotels with number pad locked safes.”

Tommy sighed. “I’ll… I’ll text her about it. She might be too busy if I see her right now. Just keep looking, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You continued to search through the rest of the drawers, finding dust in one and a small box of condoms in the other. Maybe there were nights where Davenport was the client. You wrinkled your nose in distaste, shutting it carefully before moving on to the rest of the room. The chances of finding the combination somewhere in the room were quite slim, but you still checked everywhere. A banker whose job is to handle client’s financial confidentiality wouldn’t let any type of information lying around.

“She’s not answering. I’ll wait ten minutes before heading back down. I doubt Davenport will be coming back early, but Shelly did say that there were others that would use this room and the one next to it. They usually come out at night like cockroaches, but you never know, you know?”

“So, if Shelly doesn’t respond to your text, you’re going to go down and see her, leaving me by myself with the potential clients coming around to this very room,” you reiterated slowly.

“I’ll be in the lobby, so I can see them coming,” Tommy said, moving over to the bathroom.

You sighed, squatting in front of the safe and stared at it, hoping a solution would pop into your head soon. Tommy’s comment did little to assure in the likely event that he’d have to leave you in the room by yourself. It wasn’t the fear of being by yourself, just the slim chance that you’d be caught without any escape plan. Besides, the more you explored the room, the more uneasy you felt.

You dropped to your hands and knees again, looking under the bed. A small swell of relief filled your chest from actually finding something as you pulled out a briefcase. It was short-lived, however, as you studied the leather case closely and saw a familiar engraving on the side. A shiver ran up your arms and down your spine as your fingers traced the engraving. Leaning against the side of the bed, you let out a shaky breath, and ran a thumb over the combination lock. You didn’t know what to feel when the combination you locked in opened the briefcase with a soft click.

“Shelly wants me to meet her downstairs to check out something. You gonna be alright here?” Tommy asked, walking around the bed looking for you.

“Um, yeah. Just text me if something comes up, yeah?” you said softly, shoving the briefcase under the bed before he could see. You didn’t know why you hid it from him. Force of habit, you supposed.

His brown eyes studied your shaken form for a moment, then he nodded. His footsteps receded, his exit signaled by the click of the door. You pulled out the briefcase again and opened it slowly. Documents and manila envelopes stacked and stuffed within. You lifted yourself slightly to peer at the door before going back to the briefcase, gingerly picking up the top manila envelope and opened it. You slowly shook out the contents onto your lap, bracing yourself as best as you could.

“Oh, god,” you whispered.

Tommy strolled back to the lobby, making his way over to the front desk where Shelly was taking care of a guest. He stood the side and waited, scanning the area and saw a few people lounging around reading newspapers or scrolling through their phone. Shelly looked up from the guest and nodded at him. The man she spoke to thanked her and started to head to his room. Tommy walked over to the desk and passed the man. He paused for a second, then continued without missing another beat. He took out his phone, readying to text you, but he hesitated. No, you needed to concentrate on the case. So long as you stayed in the room, you were fine…

“I thought you’d want to see this,” Shelly said, gesturing him over to the desk. “I’ve managed to find a pattern with the incoming guests. They might be using a fake name, but I thought it was something. Also, the list of combinations was sorted by room at the back of the book.”

Tommy’s eyes scanned the guest book. “It’s something we can work with,” he said, “thanks, Shelly.”

Shelly looked around the lobby to make sure they were alone. “So, is (Y/n) okay? She seemed to be a bit shaken when I touched her shoulder,” she said quietly.

“Oh, um, that’s… the whole surprise touching thing, she doesn’t do that. It’s kind of a long story,” he said, taking pictures of the pages. He handed the book back to her and pocketed his phone. “I have to head back up, so…”

Shelly nodded. “Alright, Sherlock, go ahead. Oh, and Tommy,” she said before he walked off, “I really like her. You should consider keeping her around.”

Tommy smirked. “You’ve just met her. And besides, I doubt she’d want to. She seems to be on the stubborn side,” he said before heading back up the elevator.

“Like who?” Shelly called back. Tommy was tempted to flip her the bird over his shoulder.

He texted you that he got names and the combination, frowning when he didn’t get a text during the whole ride up. You always made it a point to respond as soon as possible. Maybe… no. It wasn’t possible. He scrolled through his photo gallery back to the guest book and zoomed for the most recent guest. They were in the room next to Davenport’s. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not. At least the man couldn’t run into you, but he was too close for comfort. Why was your uncle in that room? Would that mean he had something to do with the case?

He made his way back to the room, being careful of not running into anyone. He passed by the room your uncle was in, not letting his guard down as he smoothly unlocked the door and slipped inside. You were still slumped behind the bed, going through the briefcase with shaky hands. You froze when you heard the door open, closing the briefcase quietly.

“It’s just me,” Tommy said softly.

You sighed in relief, waving him over. “I found this under the bed…,” you said.

Tommy sat down next to you, skimming through the documents. “These are invoices of the smuggling shipments. Your family’s?” You nodded. He moved on to the manila envelope, noticing how you were holding your breath. “You okay?” You remained silent, but the way that you shifted in your spot and your eyes wavering was enough to answer him. He sighed, taking the manila envelope and walked over to the chair so the contents were away from her view. He pulled out his phone and showed her the pictures he took. “I’ve got the combination. If you want to start working on that…”

You nodded, taking the phone from him and crawled over to the safe. “I heard someone going into the suite next door,” you said in a hushed tone, not knowing how thin the walls were.

“Yeah, I… I saw who it was,” he said in the same volume.

Your fingers hovered over the number pad, your eyes trying to read the combination in the picture, but you couldn’t concentrate. You leaned back on your feet and squeezed your eyes shut to calm yourself. Tommy glanced your way but said nothing. You needed the silence. He continued to flip through the pictures, many were of her going about her business, others were most likely the other family members. Your uncle was following everyone, or at least hiring someone to track the family down. He shuffled through them and found two pictures that were recent, both with you and Tommy. One at the diner and the other at the cemetery.

“The briefcase…,” you said, “it’s his.”

He nodded, though you couldn’t see it. What you said confirmed his suspicions, but why is your uncle doing this? You steeled yourself, leaning down to the safe again and punched the code in. It gave off a soft beep and a click. You turned the knob and opened the small hatch slowly, scooting back so Tommy could get a view of the contents. Notes and transaction papers, account summaries and inventory lists.

“We need to take all of it,” Tommy said firmly, stuffing the pictures back into the envelope and tossed it back in the briefcase. “They know we’re trying to track them anyways. Taking them will send them scrambling.”

“This is all my fault,” you said, “It’s because of me. I shouldn’t have gotten too involved in this case, I should have let you do it, I should have…”

Your breathing grew heavy as you pulled your hair, releasing your frustration. Tommy reached a hand out, but decided against it, allowing you to sort through your thoughts. No, it wasn’t your fault. Everything that happened to you, what had happened was not your fault. For so many years, no one believed you and you even questioned your own memories. But, no, it really wasn’t your fault. Everything you’ve just found in that hotel room was enough to know that your uncle really was a bad man and you weren’t going crazy.

“No, no, no, no. This is my uncle’s fault,” you corrected yourself, “You’re right. We need to take all of this. All of this and… and… my family needs to know. I don’t think they know what type of man my uncle is. They never believed me.”

Tommy stooped down next to you. “We should get going,” he said. “Think they can all fit in the briefcase?”

You nodded, grabbing all the safe’s contents and placing them in the briefcase. He stood up and walked over to the wall, leaning his ear against it. He could hear feet shuffling around the carpet and mumbling. There wasn’t much he could pick up from the phone conversation. Maybe it was the banker that he was meeting up today, maybe it was another associate. Whoever it is, so long as you don’t run into the man while you’re leaving.

Shutting the briefcase, you stood back up and moved the chair back to block the safe. Tommy turned to you and nodded, his eyes sweeping the area to make sure nothing was out of place. He briefly scanned out the window before leading you out the door. He went out first, peeking out and checked both ways down the corridors, and gestured for you to follow him out. You clutched the briefcase tightly by your side, allowing Tommy to move you around so you’d be out of sight from the suite next door. To not arouse suspicion, he took the briefcase from you and raised an arm, hovering behind your waist as a silent permission. You nodded, shuffling closer to him as the two of you headed towards the elevator. He pulled you in closer at the sound of a door clicking open, his steps quicker as the two of you neared the elevator. The metal doors opened in time, just as your uncle stepped out. Tommy pushed you in and pressed the button to immediately close the doors.

“Well, I can see the thrill in sneaking around a hotel,” you remarked, breaking the silence.

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. The sound made you smile back and caused a strange fluttering in your stomach. Please, god, no. Stop that! You scolded your stomach. Maybe it was just the anxiety from hiding from your uncle. Yeah, that was it…

Your smile dropped when your phone began to buzz. You fished it out of your pocket and saw that it was your brother calling.

“Hello?” you answered with a frown.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.”

A/N: I’ve always planned to have reader “save” herself when she feels like she’s slipping and I didn’t want Tommy to be the “reason” why she gets better or have her rely on him when she feels an attack coming on, but at least being a solid supporter.

#Tommy Akhtar x reader #tommy akhtar imagine #City of Tiny Lights #Riz Ahmed #slow burn #partners

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Partners (3) | Tommy Akhtar x Reader

Words: 2,315

Warning: Swearing, mentions of childhood trauma, implied abuse, anxiety attack, slow burn

A/N: Had to add Tommy’s dad in this one ‘cause I think he’s funny. Tried to get in the right head space for this one and explore Tommy’s and reader’s own inner struggles. CoTL is a gritty detective movie, so I try to keep that feel of the story. Let me know what you guys think!

There was a thin layer of cigarette smoke in the air as you sat down in the cramped living area as Tommy’s dad rant about how you can learn everything about life through cricket. You nodded along as he explained the game to you, his friend adding a few words in every now and then. From the corner of your eye, you could see Tommy smirking in amusement, lighting another cigarette as he leaned against the wall. You gave him a side glare as he blew out slowly and mockingly.

“Do you smoke?” his dad asked you.

“No, I’ve quit a long time ago,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Tommy.

“You need to quit those, too,” his dad lectured to him, wagging his cricket bat.

Tommy scoffed, shifting around to pull out a plastic container from behind his back. “I think it’s time for your pills, alright, dad?”

“Yeah, yeah.” As he shuffled over to grab the pills from his son, you leaned forward to hand him a glass of water from the table. Tommy nodded his head in thanks. “Thank you, you’re sweet. So how long are you staying here?”

“Just until the case is over,” you said.

“Tommy’s been bringing home girls, lately. It’s related to a case,” his dad said sarcastically, putting air quotes around “case”.

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow at Tommy.

“First of all, I don’t always bring home girls. We all know that that’s a rarity from me. Second, you already knew Shelley ‘cause she was my classmate and was my mate’s girl. Then, she brings her daughter. Melody was that one girl from a case- ”

“A prostitute,” his dad pointed out, “No offense to her. She’s a lovely woman.”

“Nothing romantic,” Tommy finished, holding his hands up to end the conversation.

“He brought all of them over for Christmas,” his dad whispered to you, holding a hand to shield his mouth from his son like he was gossiping. He turned to Tommy. “So… when will it be romantic? I’m not getting younger, you know.”

“Since when did we ever have this talk, dad? You didn’t really seemed all that fussed before.”

“Well, when you brought Shelly over- ” Tommy shook his head, swearing under his breath “- I thought you were going to get together. Weren’t you holding hands at the table? Or was that praying?” His dad teased.

“It wasn’t… we’re not… not anymore. We’re friends. I don’t need to explain my love life to you, dad, okay? I’ve got a case to do- ”

“I’m just saying, (Y/n) is such a lovely and smart woman- ”

“And you’re wearing a raggy white tank and boxers around her,” Tommy pointed out. His dad looked down at his own attire, as if just realizing that he was. Tommy tapped your shoulder, then gestured towards the door. “Lets get going.”

You gave a dramatic sigh. “I’ll let you know when we’re running late,” you told the older man. He nodded, watching the two of you leave.

You followed Tommy outside, relishing in the fresh air and scent of rain while it lasted. Tommy watched you for a minute as you sucked in a breath, sticking a hand out to feel the drizzle on your palm. He took a long drag, then stomped on the half used cigarette, blowing a trail into the air.

“So… not bad, huh?” he finally spoke. You looked at him questioningly. “My dad. You can handle some cricket rants, right?”

“Yeah. He seems nice,” you said, pulling your coat around you tighter. It was a while since you’ve been in a warm family setting and the thought of Tommy and his dad bantering made you smile.

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, he’s a real social butterfly, my dad.”

You thought for a moment, wondering if you should bring up about Shelly. You bit your lip and shook your head. It wasn’t really appropriate and it wasn’t your place to ask. So instead, you fished out the car keys that Tommy had given you earlier. It was his friend’s car who used to drive him around London for his cases. He didn’t go into much detail, but all he told you was that he was out of business.

“Lets do this quick round then go to the diner. I have the late shift today.” You both climbed into the car with you at the driver’s seat.

“Right, well, does your little network know about me and the situation?”

“Yup, ask them away. They’ll answer you.”

You leaned back in the seat as you started the car. Tommy nodded, looking out the window. From the way his large brown eyes were always scanning the area, it made you wonder if he also had something from his past that’s he’s trying to hide or forget, but it keeps haunting him.

The drive to the cemetery was silent and uneventful. All that could be heard was the humming of the engine, the light pattering of the rain outside, and your steadying breathing. Reaching a stoplight, Tommy shifted in his seat, his long fingers drumming on the arm rest of the door before looking at you.

“Why do you still insist on working at the diner? I just think that’s interesting that a person who already has access to all this money continues to work a torturous job like food service. You didn’t even have to stay here, you could have left your family long time ago. Get away from everything and everyone,” he said.

“We’re still on this?” you muttered. “You know the reason why I’m still here. There’s loose ends- ”

“But out of all the jobs, why a diner? You don’t need to work at a fuckin’ diner to support yourself or be in contact with your network,” he pointed out.

You sighed, moving along with the traffic as the light turned green. “It’s been a long time since I had any normalcy in my life and if working at a diner brings that normalcy, then I’ll take it. Plus, they have good desserts.”

Tommy hummed, the corner of his lips turned up at your last comment. He opened his mouth to push the subject, but decided against it. It wasn’t long until you finally reached the cemetery where he said you’ll meet the person checking up on the suspects at the hotel. He didn’t have to say, but you knew that it was Shelly, judging from the phone call he had the other day. Why at the cemetery, you weren’t sure. His face was solemn as you neared your destination, so you assumed that the location meant something.

As you pulled into the lot and parked, the rain had finally let up, the clouds slowly parting to reveal patches of blue. From the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy’s jaw clenched, his mind whirring. It was like he was struggling with an internal conflict, an exhausting battle in his mind.

He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He looked up at you with an apologetic expression, but you shook your head, opening the door for ventilation as he lit it up. It was his way of releasing stress and you didn’t want him to suddenly change his habits just because of you. Taking a long drag, he peered through the window to see if anyone else was at the grave site. It took a while for him to climb out of the car, yet something tells you you shouldn’t rush him.

“Could you… could you please stay in the car?” He finally said, his voice was almost a raspy whisper and uncharacteristically uncertain. He cleared his throat as he continued to look out the window. “I know I said you’ll be meeting her… but not now.”

“Sure, I’ll wait,” you complied, leaning back.

Tommy nodded, blowing out one last smoke before opening the door, stubbing the cigarette out. He fixed his jacket and made his way over to the grave site as a blonde head appeared. The blonde met him halfway, a shorter brunette trailing close behind her. They all hugged and walked over to the site together. You looked away quickly, feeling as though you were intruding in a private matter. Whatever this was, it was more than just getting an update on your suspects.

You reclined your seat, staring at the worn out fabric of the car ceiling as you waited. The conversation earlier made you think about what could have happened, had you not stepped in to cover up for your brothers. They might have resented you, but you wouldn’t have to be in their mess. From what they told you, they weren’t sure who could be trying to take them down.

You let out a sigh, taking out a piece of gum, similar to when Tommy took out his cigarettes. Chewing on the sugar stick, you couldn’t help but think back to the time before you reluctantly joined in on the business. You wanted to be a journalist, hence the researching skills. You wanted to travel, see new places, meet new people, learn different languages and cultures, and write about them. Because of this, you had also helped in translating and negotiating the pay out based on the items’ historical background and cultural significance. Your brothers praised you for your prowess, but it wasn’t the way you wanted to use your skills.

Those days where your brothers would leave and your uncle would visit were like scenes from a horror film you wanted to forget. Like you were the only one that saw behind his kind and goofy mask that he wore around the rest of the family. No one understood why you never liked being around him and they insisted that he visit when you’re home alone, even when you were old enough to take care of yourself. Your brothers had just started taking over and your father would say the beginnings are usually one of the most dangerous parts of business because you don’t have a reputation to protect you yet. Your uncle definitely had a reputation that protected him and you hated it.

“(Y/n),” you heard someone said softly.

You sucked in a sharp breath, flinching violently when you felt a hand on your arm. When you were met with steady brown eyes, you eased yourself to relax. He held his hands out, trying to do the same. You breathed in and out slowly, calming your heart rate. It wasn’t until he slowly reached over to grab your left arm did you realize that you had been aggressively scratching at your arm again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you found yourself whispering over and over again as you curled over your arm, the stinging finally settling in.

You let out a growl, frustrated at yourself for letting it happen again. It was because of that visit yesterday had triggered these memories to keep surfaces that made you act like this.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s okay,” he said calmly, reaching over you to incline your chair again. “(Y/n), look at me, please.”

He held your face between his cold hands, the scent of leather and cigarettes reaching your nose, mixing with the spearmint of your gum. His thumbs wiped away stray tears as he waited for your breathing to stabilize. Being up close to him, you found yourself studying the shade of brown in his eyes, the freckles by his left eyebrow, the prominent line of his nose, and the curve of his lips. Your uncle wasn’t here. None of your family was here. You were at a cemetery in an old car with Tommy Akhtar. You were safe from them.

“Does this mean I’m off the case?” you suddenly asked, making Tommy break out into a laugh, the heaviness in the air dissipating.

“Only if you want to,” he said, pulling away slowly. “I think it’s best that you quit the diner, though.”

You nodded slowly. “I just don’t want to be holed up somewhere and have someone else do all the work, you know?”

“You can be my driver,” he suggested.

“Do you not know how to drive?”

He shrugged. “I prefer someone else driving while I’m thinking. It’s faster to just up and go, you know.”

“I take that as a no.”

“Whoa,” He holds his hands up in defense, “Tommy fucking Akhtar is an excellent driver, I’ll have you know- ”

“You’re referring to yourself in the third person now?”

“- just weavin’ in an’ out of traffic like a Bond film. I could even drive the entire way in reverse.” He waves his hands around, miming a driving motion and pretending to reverse, swinging his arm behind your seat and turning his body to look back.

You snorted at this, pushing his shoulder. “Enough. Okay, I’ll be your driver, Mr. Bond,” you relented.

He righted himself in his seat. “Well, if you’re going to call me Mr. Bond, then you’ll be my Bond Girl.”

You shook your head. “Bond Girls are gorgeous eye candy, though.”

“Exactly- ”

“They either die or end up being the bad guy, and then die,” you pointed out, starting the car up again after wiping off dry tears.

“Well, they haven’t had a Bond guy like me, have they?” He jabbed a thumb towards himself with a wink. “I’m obviously not going to let that happen.”

You knew he was doing all of this to cheer you up and you felt bad for him having to deal with your emotional baggage. You were just lucky enough that he knew what to do.

“You don’t have to beat yourself over this, alright?” Tommy said in a more serious tone, drawing you out of your thoughts. “We focus on this case, we find those fuckers, then we move on.”

“Move on to where? To what?” you sighed.

Tommy shrugged. “Anywhere and anything you like.”

That was a nice thought. Travelling to different parts of the world without a care, eating their local food, and just keep moving. Would you ever want to settle? How long until you want something consistent or have someone travelling along with you? Those were questions for another time. For now you had to work on this case and work on yourself.

#tommy akhtar x reader #tommy akhtar imagine #city of tiny lights #riz ahmed #slow burn #friends to lovers

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Whoops...

I mean, I should be finishing up the second part for my Carlton Drake x reader fanfic, but I've finished part one of a City of Tiny Lights fanfic that's 2k+ long, but I'm also halfway done with another Carlton Drake x reader oneshot based on the movie The Brain that Wouldn't Die, cuz I feel he is that level of obsessed and I'm also pretty obsessed with Riz Ahmed hahahahaha.

#kendra rambles #too much ideas #so little time #plus procrastination #too many wips #whoops #too much braining #hnng #carlton drake imagine #carlton drake x reader #Tommy Akhtar x reader #City of tiny lights

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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Partners (2) | Tommy Akhtar x Reader

Words: 2,324

Warning: Implied abuse and trauma

A/n: This is mostly filled with reader’s background story as they ready for their investigation. Let me know if I should adjust the pacing or if it gets too confusing for you guys.

“You live very modestly for a hired smuggler,” Tommy mused, walking around your flat.

You shrugged, dismissing the term he used as you fished out two beer cans from the fridge. “Fancy stuff brings attention to you, y’know. I never liked the attention.”

“You seemed to like a certain type of attention at the diner.” He smirked, grabbing the offered beer can.

You rolled your eyes. “I was more amused by the situation than enjoying the staged attention. It wasn’t much anyways. You call that flirting?” You sat across of him, setting your laptop in front of you.

“Ooh, ouch.” He faked a hurt expression, holding a hand to his chest. “Is that a challenge?”

“I don’t know, is flirting challenging for you?” you countered, hiding a smile behind the laptop. It’s been a while since you’ve bantered playfully with anyone. You didn’t want to get close to anyone.

“Careful, sweetheart, you might fall for me before this case is over.” He winked before taking a swig from the can.

“Oh, I’ll try not to,” you said flatly, looking through the shipment records from the previous operations to distract you from the giddy feeling bubbling up in your stomach. “Anything on the guys in the screenshots I gave you?”

“Yeah, I asked around for them. They’re staying at a high-end hotel, wouldn’t expect any less. I have a friend that works there, so she’ll be keeping an eye on them while at their stay. One of those guys is an art collector and the other is a banker called Justin Davenport, who is also linked to five other art collectors.” He slid a paper with their names on, then leaned back in the chair, the back rest creaking slightly. His eyes wandered down to his phone, as if he was waiting for a call, then drifted to your hand. “Why a lotus?”

“What?” you hummed, sipping beer in one hand and typing with the other.

“That lotus tattoo. You even sign off with a lotus picture. Thought hipsters and hippies were into that kind of stuff.” He pulled out a packet of cigarettes, of which you slapped out of his hand. He stared back at you in question, then tilted his head in defeat. “Right, you don’t smoke, but you used to. So why the lotus?”

“Well, it’s mostly from the Greek mythology besides the spiritual symbolism,” you muttered offhandedly. Scanning through articles linked to the art collectors, you screen captured them and saved them into the hard drive.

“Where’s your family staying?” he asked instead.

Your eyes flickered to his face, then back at the screen. “Down in Somerset, if you believe it. Cute house with acres of land, hours walk from the village. We used to spend time there in the summer when we were kids. I’ve always wanted to play with my brothers, but my parents were overprotective of me and didn’t want them to go rough around me. So, I gave up and started to spend time alone in the fields. There was this hill that I’d go to, a good distance from the house but close enough for my parents to see where I was. I’d lay out a blanket and read a book or just stare out at the landscape or watch the clouds. It was peaceful.”

“When did your family business start?”

You lowered the laptop screen enough to see Tommy’s face. “I’m not sure when exactly, but I know it was before I was born. It started with my father and his siblings,” you pause to scratch your left arm with the lotus tattoo, “then he passed it on to us when we were old enough. They used to make a lot trouble growing up, stealing, smoking, drinking. No surprise when they’re sent to the military. I think they were overseas when they heard about the black market and the smuggling business. Governments would send out rewards for those who were able to retrieve the stolen artifacts from the black market.”

Tommy hummed, looking over his phone again. “You’re very open for someone that works in secret,” he said without looking up.

“This will be all over after we catch those guys. No sense being secretive,” you said dismissively, going back to your laptop. You subconsciously scratched at your arm again, then forced yourself to stop once you felt Tommy’s eyes on your hand.

He leaned closer to the window and peaked through the curtains. “No one knows you live here?” he asked suddenly.

You froze. “No, not even my family,” you said firmly, studying him with a frown. Was he testing you?

He stared out intensely through the window for a good minute, then gave you a casual smile, shrugging, pulling the curtain back in its place. You release a heavy sigh, excusing yourself. You made your way to the bathroom and plopped yourself on the lidded toilet. Leaning back with your eyes closed, you considered taking a few calming pills before heading out again.

As much as you loved your family, you never wanted any part of their business. After your brothers almost got into trouble a couple of times, you somehow ended up taking over on organizing and fixing everything so they’d be safe. After that, you were stuck. They eventually started relationships and families outside of the business and with this threat of a bounty on your heads, shutting it down was inevitable. The business had made enough connections so someone else could take over and take the burden away. You hoped that, once everything was over, things could be relatively normal, actually celebrating holidays at home, hanging with friends with no care in the world, and putting down roots. Maybe even distancing yourself from other relatives.

You scratched your arm again, digging through your pockets for a packet of gum. You cursed under your breath, remembering that you left it on the table next to your laptop. The sound of the front door knocking made you hold your breath. You listened in as you heard Tommy’s footsteps towards the door.

“Hey, mate, what’s going on?” Tommy said.

“Does a (Y/n) (Y/l/n) live here?” came a smooth voice that sent chills down your spine. Like a perfectly sharpened knife dragging across your skin. You dug your nails into your arm and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Sorry, mate, jus’ me ‘n my wife lives here,” Tommy replied.

“Have you heard the name before?” the voice insisted.

There was a pause, followed by a contemplating humming. Tommy clicked his tongue. “No, sorry, man. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, just looking for my niece.”

“Well, I hope everything goes well.”

“Thank you, sorry about that. But, if you do here or see anything… call me by this number? The family is very worried about her.”

“Yeah, will do man. Have a nice evening.”

“You, too.” The door closed.

Releasing your breath, you flushed the toilet and searched through the medicine cabinet for those calming pills, running the water hard to help you down them. Gripping the counter, you realized that your hands were shaking. You took a moment to calm down before you opened the door. You jumped in surprise to see Tommy standing in the doorway.

“Were you just standing there?” you asked, trying to walk around him.

His hand shot out, blocking your path. “Let me see your arm,” he said softly.

“Tommy,” you warned, wanting him to drop it.

“When everything is over, what are you going to do? Hm? Gonna keep working at that diner? Run away and change your name?” He studied your expression.

“That’s none of your business,” you said firmly, sticking your chin up. “I hired you to find the men that are framing the business and deal with it, not go into my life story. Whatever happens after this is over is none of your business. Case closed, off to another case.”

“You telling me all of this… it’s like you’re giving them up. You want to leave them behind, don’t you?”

You made to move his arm, but he grabbed your wrist, making you pull back and bumping into the sink. He held his hands out and gently grabbed your left arm despite your protests. Instead of lifting the sleeve, he held your hand in both of his own, pausing to give you a chance to pull away. When you didn’t, he continued.

“I,” he said, stepping closer, “am going to protect you. If you are right, that this group will not go after you, but what’s stopping your family from doing that? If you’re not protected, it will make this investigation harder for us.” He took out the number from his pocket and handed it to you. “You recognize this number?”

Your stomach started to twist as you scan the digits. You nodded slowly, crumpling the paper. “He’s, uh, he’s my uncle. One of my dad’s brothers. He was an odd one. He was never good in the field, so he’d stay behind during operations.”

“Is what you’ve said about your family so far true?” he asked for confirmation. You nodded again. “What does he want from you?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What doesn’t he want from me?” you spat, suppressing the memories that threaten to resurface.

He squeezed your hand. “Do you know he could have found out where you live?”

You shook your head. The whole family that’s involved in the business were supposed to lay low in the countryside. There shouldn’t be a reason for any of them to be in London. Well, your uncle had less of a chance of being recognized than the others that worked in the field, which made it worse.

“Are you okay with stay here?”

You hesitated. What if he came back and Tommy’s not here? You didn’t think you’d be ready enough to face him again, if you ever wanted to face him again. Tommy squeezed your hand again as your eyebrows turned up in a worried expression.

“There’s a place where I know you’’ll be safe. I have to warn you, there’s a lot of drinking, smoking, and cricket watching. It’s also a bit small, but it’s better than having to be paranoid over here.”

You shook your head at his generosity. “You offer this place to all of your clients?” you teased to lighten the mood.

“Just the lost ones. It’s my dad’s place, by the way, but he’s a kind man.”

“I’m sorry for putting you through all this trouble-” You pull your hand away.

“No, you didn’t know he was going to come,” he said, handing you your packet of gum, then stepped back so you could finally get out of the bathroom. “When do you want to go?”

“Well, we’ve got a lead…” You took a gum out and stuck it on your mouth, following him out. “Where should we start?”

“We need to know which art collector was with him that night. From there, we can track him down and find out his motives. Hopefully, it’s just one man that’s doing this, not a bunch of rich collector working together to make more money.” He paused. “We’ll have to track Davenport’s movements. Once my friend gets an idea of his daily routine, we could follow him. See where he frequents and who he meets. Him knowing those black market smugglers means that he has connections.”

You nodded. “I’ll have my network be on the lookout for him…. I just want this to be over soon.”

“You know, cases always get harder the more personal they are. I’m talking from experience here,” Tommy said.

Your attention was drawn away from him when his phone started to ring. He quickly answered it, turning his back towards you. You went ahead to eject the hard drive and shut down your laptop while you tried to listen in one end of the conversation. He kept turning his back every time you tried getting closer. Huffing, you packed your laptop away and went to pack your essentials from your room.

You yanked a duffel bag from under your bed and started throwing items in. It wasn’t too hard, you didn’t have much, anyways, and most of your clothes were already packed. You were always ready to leave, living off of a suitcase or bag. In fact, you didn’t even have drawers or a wardrobe. You added a journal and your laptop last, zipping it closed.

You seemed to trust Tommy Akhtar for now. So far, he hadn’t given a reason not to be trustworthy. He was being paid and he was doing his job. He was only being generous just so there wouldn’t be anything holding the investigation back.

After you had moved to London, you hadn’t gotten much contact with your family besides the occasional operations within the country. Even then, it would be one or two of your brothers at a time heading the operation. When the operation is over, they go back to wherever they had settled. There were attempts to catch up, but no one felt the same. You were more distant than normal and your brothers tried to get you to open up about it. They used to be close to your uncle, so you doubted they’d believe you.

You slung your duffel bag over your shoulder and met up with Tommy in the small living room. He was still on the phone, leaning against the wall while finishing up his beer. He didn’t seem to notice you were back.

“If you’re uncomfortable with it, I can have someone else watch them,” he assured the person on the other end, then paused as they talked. “Thanks, Shelly, I really appreciate it.” Another pause. “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. I’ll meet you tomorrow at Stuart’s… okay, see you.”

After hanging up, he turned to you and nodded at the duffel bag. “You ready?” he asked you.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

A/N: Man, I aspire to be Jane Austen level of slow burn and savagery. Alas, I am nowhere near. Writing this makes me want to watch Pride and Prejudice and Zombies again. Idk why that version… Also, I had to delete and repost the second part of my other fanfic, so I hope it works. Anyways, don’t forget to leave a comment or some feedback and thank you for reading!

#City of Tiny Lights #Tommy Akhtar x reader #Tommy Akhtar imagine #Riz Ahmed #implied abuse #slow burn #backstory

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