#Tim Rockford x black reader

[dc418writes]

|Bump in the Night|

✨Pairing✨: Tim Rockfordxblack!reader

Summary🪄: You can always count on Tim

🚨: attempted break in/breaking and entering, mention of stalking, brief mention of gun(s), language, violence (man-man), ends in fluff tho💕

A/N🎤: hello☺️! This is my submission to @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope event (I’m so sorry that it’s much later than the deadline/expected😓). Everyone please support the other works that were submitted and I hope you enjoy what I came up with🌸

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my works are imagined with a black reader, all are welcome to read💕*

Trope: friends to lovers

Hearing the familiar address come across his police scanner, Tim couldn’t care less about the lawyer that was supposed to be under his surveillance. His silver Honda Civic practically floating over the asphalt as he sped towards the apartment complex.

Specifically, yours.

“No apparent injuries to occupant. No ambulance needed.”

Tim’s grip on the wheel slightly loosens at that. Although he was still stressed not completely knowing what happened yet, at least you were currently safe and unharmed. Minutes later, his car screeches to a stop in the parking lot already occupied by a flashing patrol car.

“Detective Rockford?,” the young officer - he still couldn’t remember his name after all this time - asks slightly startled from seeing the usually stoic and aloof man. “What-?”

“Where is she?” His steps never falter and the younger officer - Davey? Casey? - has to lightly jog to catch up with the detective on a mission.

“She?”

“The victim.”

“Oh! Currently with Daniels as he does a final sweep.”

“Still nothing?,” Tim asks as they both finally arrive on your floor from their ascent up the stairs. He wasn’t surprised to see the elevators out again. There was always something wrong with this place which is why he tried urging you to another complex.

“True it’s not perfect, but it’s not terrible. I’ll be fine Tim,” you assured with that sweet smile that could warm the coldest of hearts.

“Just some shifted furniture, nothing missing yet. We tried dusting for prints, but perp was smart enough to use gloves.”

Walking in to see your nervous expression - lip worried between your teeth as your arms wrapped around yourself - had a storm of emotions swirling he’d never experienced all at once. Relief that he could physically see you were unharmed. Rage at whoever did this. Finally, a sense of protectiveness wanting to make sure this never happened to you again.

By any means.

“T-Tim?,” you asked finally meeting his eyes. Immediately he’s crossing the few feet between you to hug you close. Gently rocking you back and forth as you savor the much needed comfort.

“Let’s uh give them some privacy Kaz,” Daniels whispers. “Kazinski!,” Tim thought as he finally remembered the man’s name. Wow he was way off.

“What happened?”

“Well,” you sigh, “I came home and the door was cracked open. Something didn’t feel right this time though-,”

“Wait, this time? Someone’s done this before?”

You slowly nod. “Well, then again I could’ve accidentally-,”

“We both know you didn’t leave it open. You never leave your door open or unlocked.”

Too many times you were the one reminding him to make sure he’d locked up both his house and car. Always on the go with mind focused on other things, there’s a very strong chance he’d leave his head home if it wasn’t attached to him.

“Why didn’t you call me?,” he asks with deep brown eyes full of concern and slight hurt.

“I didn’t wanna interrupt your case. Plus it’s nothing I can’t handle on my own.”

“But you don’t have to do it on your own,” he sighs. Your hyper-independence just might be the death of him. “Grab some clothes and whatever else you need, you’re staying with me.”

“Tim-,”

“If you think I’m leaving you here tonight you don’t know me as well as I thought,” he simply counters sitting in one of your wooden dining room chairs waiting for you to get your things with arms crossed against his chest.

There’s no use in arguing when his mind is set - which tends to be often. All you can do is what he says swiftly turning towards your bedroom and softly padding down the short hall.

-

Phone to his ear, Tim can’t help the smile that forms at your sweet voice. Deep inside he feels like that giddy teenager again excited and in slight disbelief that he finally gets the chance to talk to the prettiest girl in school.

“Hey, just uh wanted to check on you. Make sure you made it in okay.”

“Yep just got the last of the groceries in,” you smile locking the door behind you. “Hey don’t pick up anything to eat! I’m making lasagna.”

This is how it’s been for the past week. Tim checking to see you made it in and how your day had gone before you both discussed your plan for dinner that night.

And he loved the domesticity of it all. Never did he think he’d say that, typically preferring to be alone so he could come and go as he pleased with no one constantly in his ear. But there was something about coming home to warm meals and music softly playing in the background that had an unexpected calm rushing over him.

Then again, maybe all those new things he was feeling - now wanting every day and wondering how he thought life was better without it - was from you.

“Sounds great, I’m gonna be a bit late getting in though so don’t wait on me to eat.”

“Oh, okay.” Your disappointed tone has him ready to quit if it’ll make you happy again. “I take it there’s good news on the case?”

“Yea and new evidence that potentially puts us closer to solving this.”

“And freeing-?”

“That I can’t discuss. You and I both know,” he softly chuckles. At your little huff he can already picture you rolling those dangerously perfect eyes.

“Okay,” you pout, “I guess I’ll see you later then. Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll try not to be too long.”

Saying your final goodbyes, he’s embarrassingly greeted by the smirk of officer Daniels while he leans against the doorframe of his office.

“Soo the infamous friend..,” he states with a knowing grin.

“Don’t.”

“Can’t blame you, she’s really sweet. Not to mention beautiful-,”

The mix of annoyance and anger on Tim’s face is enough to stop Daniels in his tracks making him deeply chuckle with hands up in defeat. “Relax, I come in peace.”

“Wishing you didn’t at all,” Tim mumbles causing more chuckles from the man in front of him.

“Don’t think you’ll say that after you see this.” Gently placing the folder on his desk, Tim’s brow raises as he curiously flips open the gray cover. “Pretty sure this is our guy.”

-

You think you’re still dreaming when you hear that first click. Another - followed by a scrape against the hardwood - has your eyes quickly opening trying to register what was happening. You can faintly make out the bedroom thanks to the sliver of yellow-gold coming from the hall light as you slowly sit up. Not finding Tim asleep in his usual recliner in the corner of the room, you wonder if it’s him finally returning home.

“Tim?!”

The heavy footsteps - seemingly pacing back and forth - pause, and you feel an uneasiness creep over you at the momentary silence. A shadow of something to come you couldn’t quite place.

As the footsteps grow closer, that unease sets off alarms at the realization that those steps were heavier than Tim’s. He doesn’t wear boots…

It’s as if the intruder senses they’re caught in that same moment increasing their speed towards your bedroom. Luckily you bound from the bed locking the door mere seconds before they reach the knob furiously twisting and banging against the door trying to enter.

Amid the pounding in your chest and ears, you’re focused enough to lock yourself in the adjoining restroom and lie in the tub with trembling hands covering your mouth. Tears slowly slipping down your cheeks while wishing for the darkness to take you before the stranger can.

On the third hard thud, the room door breaks from its hinges startling you and sending screws scattering to the floor - and no doubt chips of wood.

“I know you’re in here. Might as well come out now, it’s only a matter of time before I find you.”

That familiar voice sends goosebumps down your body and bile stinging your throat.

His laugh isn’t a humorous one stepping across the threshold. Wood creaking and cracking under his weight. “I don’t know why you’re making me do this. Things could be so much easier if you’d just…listen.”

The echo of your vibrating phone carries into the bathroom making more tears spring from your eyes. Tim would be home any moment coming face to face with this man who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. Possibly unarmed not expecting danger in what was supposed to be his safe haven.

A danger you ultimately caused.

If something happened to Tim-

“You run to him, but he’s not even here for you! Huh, some protector.”

If you weren’t so terrified, you’d easily be ready to defend your friend. Fight for him just as he’s always fought for you.

Hearing the bed squeak, you know he’s probably leaning on it to lift the cover’s edge and peek in the space under. Not finding you there, you figure there’s only seconds before he’s barging into your hiding place and doing God knows what.

“Guess you won’t believe me until you see for yourself though.” His tone hushes to just above a whisper taking a step closer. Then another, and you’re surprised he hasn’t said anything about your heartbeat how it surely could be heard thudding in your chest. “Fine with me doll.”

Flashes of what that could mean enter your mind only making you sob harder. A sheen of sweat breaking along your body anxiously waiting on that fearful moment the life you once knew would be over.

Rather than the cracking of another broken door, you’re met with Tim’s gruff voice yelling for the intruder to freeze and allowing you to finally breathe. His trusty black handgun drawn and trained on his target daring the stranger to move. “It’s over Kane. Down on your knees with hands on your head.”

Surprisingly he follows Tim’s instructions, slowly kneeling down on one knee then the other. Once his hands are in the right position, handcuffs are being tightened around his wrist and a solid blow sent to his ribs causing Kane to painfully grunt as he keels over.

“That’s assault!”

This time his cheek receives the punch immediately reddening the tan skin under his left eye - and Tim’s knuckles in the process. “Where is she?!”

Kane just darkly chuckles. “You tell me. Aren’t you the detective?” His smug jokes are no more feeling cold metal against his temple. A quick click signaling how the weapon was ready to fire at any moment Tim chose.

“Last fucking chance! Tell me-,”

He hears your cries the same moment Daniels and Kazinski rush into the bedroom with guns drawn themselves. Immediately they take over, hoisting the slightly battered man to his feet and reading him his rights, while Tim hurries to retrieve you. His heart breaking the moment he sees you visibly shaken in the tub with tears staining your face.

“I’m here honey it’s okay,” he attempts to soothe quickly gathering you in his arms. Your face instinctively buries itself in his neck finding comfort in the scratch of his beard and smell of tobacco mixed with sandalwood and his earlier cups of coffee. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

It’s a few moments before you can find your voice again; even then it prickles climbing your throat and escapes in a hoarse whisper. “H-How did you know?”

“Your coworker told us about him. How he was banned because he came to the job every day bothering you. Daniels looked into him and we found…”

The way his Adams Apple bobs you can tell he’s struggling for his next words. Probably trying to soften a blow that would surely worsen your already destroyed mental and emotional state.

He clears his throat rubbing a soothing hand up and down your arm. “There was enough evidence that led us to believe he’d try something. We rushed here as soon as we could.”

Just when you thought your heart had been through enough. You could read between the lines and knew what Tim meant by evidence, and it made that queasy, unsettled feeling return. Kane found the somewhat secluded house of your best friend, who’s to say another of your friends wasn’t next? Your family even.

Hot tears - summoned from some unknown hidden reserve - begin to soak his shoulder as he slowly rocks you back and forth. Tim’s thick arms holding your shaking body tighter. Little did you know it was as much for him as you.

“He-He’s n-never gonna stop…is he?,” you direct more so to the open air. “Everyone I know-,”

“Hey hey listen to me,” Tim gently starts. His hands slightly pushing you away before moving to caress your face so you’d have no choice but to meet his sympathetic and caring eyes. “We got him. He can’t, and won’t, do anything to you or anybody else.”

“But-,”

“Even if - and it’s a very very small if - he tried something, I love you too much to let something happen.”

Maybe it was the overwhelm of emotions from such an eventful night. Maybe it was how Tim cradled your face - practically dwarfed by his larger hands - looking at you as if you were his most prized possession given by some high deity themselves. And maybe it was your hidden feelings finding a hopeful hook to latch onto that he felt the same about you. Either way, you couldn’t stop your lips from meeting his; moving so smoothly together it’s as if you’ve done this plenty of times.

Just pulling back an inch, Tim’s quick to follow smashing your lips together again as if he was addicted already. Inwardly, it makes you giggle. Feeling fuzzy and light as if dancing on the brightest sun ray on a spring day.

“We’re gonna take him downtow- oh..”

Forgetting where you were, Daniel’s voice is a startling reminder as you quickly part turning your heated face away from the bathroom’s entrance. Meanwhile, Mr. Rockford appears dazed attempting to act anything but trying to focus on his co-worker who just said..something important? “Um…y-yea Kane! We gotta-,”

“It’s taken care of Rockford,” Daniel’s answers professionally hiding his chuckles in his rock solid chest. Wait till he gets home to tell his wife this tea. Hell, he’ll have to text her on the way this was too good. “You uh take care of things here. I’ll keep you updated. Have a good night guys.”

And just as he said, Tim’s kept to his word almost a year later. Lying in your now shared bed with you perfectly molded to his side - your new home just outside of town in the relaxing countryside - he presses a loving peck to your forehead careful not to disturb your pleasant sleep. Watching you go so long without, it gives him a new layer of joy that Kane could no longer steal that from you. Your arm slung over his middle, his chest swells looking at the square cut diamond shining on your finger just waiting for you to wake up and notice it. To say yes to the question he’s been hoping you’d give him the chance to ask for some time now.

And down the line, maybe even build your little family giving you both a reason to decorate and fill the empty room across the hall.

[sugadolly]

❝you can ask me anything you want, anything, anything❞

[something-tofightfor]

Birthday Kiss #6: Tim Rockford

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader (Black Days Pairing)

Word Count: 1,290 (whoops.)

Rating: M - but this one's a little darker. Mentions of police work / on the job dangers.

Summary: A Birthday Cake Kiss

Author’s note: 9 Pedro Characters. 9 Birthday Smooches. These are very lightly edited because they're supposed to be quick. Wanted to give all of you a gift to celebrate my birthday - Detective Rockford came to the party.

This is the Black Days pairing... in the future, and with a couple of hints about things to come sprinkled in.

You knew that the sick feeling in your stomach wouldn't go away until you were sure that Tim was safe. 

He’d texted you earlier in the day, just after your lunch break and asked you to call if you had a second. And when you did call, you’d known something was wrong immediately, his voice hesitant but still somehow calm as he told you that he was taking part in a raid later that afternoon, and that he’d let you know when it was over and he was back at the station.

That wasn’t new - you’d been with Tim long enough that he’d made several arrests based on warrants and even done a few busts since you’d met him. But the specific case he was calling about was different, and he hadn’t made it a secret to you that when and if the arrests happened, there would likely be danger. 

You appreciated the warning. You appreciated the call. And you appreciated that Tim hadn’t tried to downplay the seriousness of the situation whatsoever the most. But that didn’t mean that  for the rest of the day at work, you checked your phone every few minutes and your local news stations just as often to make sure that nothing had gone wrong. 

And it didn’t - until about 6:30 when the news cut in with a special report while you were making dinner. You turned the burner on the stove off, heading from the kitchen and into the living room to take a seat on the couch, both hands covering the lower half of your face. 

The raid hadn’t just gone wrong, there was an active police standoff in the building, and the entire area was cordoned off while they called SWAT in. You watched for almost two hours, what you’d been cooking siting forgotten in the kitchen and fighting back the urge to text Tim - scouring every pixel on your TV screen for even a glimpse of him. 

But there was nothing - the news crews were too far back to give you any real look at the scene, but the fact that he hadn’t gotten in touch with you told you that Tim and his team were likely fully involved… and you were terrified. It made you understand exactly what he must have felt when it came to you being in danger, and you hated it.

You were even more terrified when the scrolling ticker at the bottom updated to report that shots had been fired and there were injuries, but that until the situation was resolved, there was no way to know who was hurt, or exactly what happened. 

And when the story changed four times in twenty minutes, you finally turned the TV off and just started pacing in the open space between the couch and  the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest and your teeth nearly chewing a hole through your lower lip. 

He was going to be ok. If something had happened to him, you would have gotten a call - either from the hospital or from one of Tim’s coworkers. You tried to convince yourself that even though it was nerve-wracking, the silence was a good thing… maybe even the best thing. 

You were sitting out on his patio in the dark, your phone on the table in front of you when you heard the glass door slide open behind you, followed by the sound of your name. Your heartbeat stuttered, and before you could even think about speaking, you were on your feet, spinning to face Tim. 

He looked terrible - his hair out of place, the white shirt he wore covered in dirt and one sleeve torn at the shoulder seam. Tim hadn’t even pulled off his shoulder holsters, though when you wound your arms around him and hugged him tightly, you felt that they were empty. “Whoa, wait a second, you -”

He swore, one hand pressing to your lower back, and at the sound, you stepped away, frowning. “Tim? What are -” He was looking down and you did, too, your eyes going wide at the sight of the piece of cake that was smashed and on the ground beside your feet. “What is that?”

“It was birthday cake.” He took a deep breath, and when you looked back at him, you saw that Tim was frowning, disappointment apparent on his face. “I stopped and got it for you on my lunch break because I figured I wouldn’t have time after we finished, and I was … right.” 

You covered your mouth again with one hand, inhaling sharply. In the chaos of Tim’s raid and the following debacle, you’d legitimately forgotten it was your birthday in your concern for his safety. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… I was just so happy to see you, Tim. Are you alright? Did everything … are you hurt? Your shirt is -” 

“I’m fine.” He closed his eyes, sighing. “Scraped up a little, and I’m gonna have bruises on my knees and probably my belly because I got shot, but -”

“What?!” You backed away fully, jaw dropping. “You got fucking-”

“I was wearing a vest.” He held up a hand, shaking his head. “I’m fine. None of us got hurt, but a couple of the people we were trying to arrest weren’t so lucky.” He didn’t elaborate further, and so you took a few more seconds to look him over - the low light on the patio doing him no favors when it came to making him look less exhausted. “Think the cake’s a lost cause, though.” 

Despite the severity of the situation, you smiled at his words, reaching out with one hand to run your knuckles along his jawline. “Maybe not.” He looked confused and watched as you crouched down, swiping your fingertips through the part of the cake that wasn’t touching the ground before you stood and collecting a glob of it there. “Looks like we can still taste it.” 

He didn’t expect you to hold your hand out toward him, but when you did, one eyebrow raised and a half smile on your face, Tim leaned forward and parted his lips to take a bite. He smiled at the taste of it, but when he straightened up he was frowning again, chewing and swallowing before he spoke. “It was your cake. So why did I get to -”

“Because it’ll taste better this way.” You stepped closer, mindful of his injuries, and placed your hand on his hip, carefully resting the forearm of the hand with the frosting-tipped fingers on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming home to me, Tim.” You saw his eyes flash at your words, the reaction accompanied by a single, sharp nod of his head.

He was prepared for the kiss, and you tasted the lingering sweetness from the frosting as soon as your lips connected - but that wasn’t enough. He encouraged you by settling his hands on your sides and pulling you closer, and you slid your hand up the center of his back until you could curl your fingers around the center of the holster strap, the leather soft against your palm. 

As the kiss continued, you felt him shifting under your touch - the muscles in his back flexing, the tilt of his head changing so that he could more easily deepen the kiss and Tim sighing into your mouth, you finally felt the tension bleed from you. 

When he pulled away for air, you both sighed again, though neither of you said anything right away, and neither of you let go of the other. And when he finally did speak, his voice was stronger again, the sound more similar to what you were used to. “I’m always gonna come home to you.” 

---

[alraedesigns]

Just a quick scene from chapter 1 of Black Days by @something-tofightfor I'm so behind on all of my Pedro reading but I really hope he gets his key lime pie 🥧

If you're a Pedro fan and love reader inserts, you have to check out Rachael's masterlist. She's covers a huge chunk of his characters and has written boatload of wonderful content!

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

Just devoured your Tim Rockford oneshots collection (what you did to that screencap in that masterlist header?? It looks like a novel cover??? Always in awe of your graphics/editing skills) and I am swooooning over his relationship with reader, I can't get enough of giving the most mature Pedro boy a partner/love interest that matches his intellect and shares his general career field/interests, obsessssed!

"When you looked back at him, once the shirt was up and over your head, he was adjusting himself where he was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, his glasses now folded on top of the book he had been reading when you’d entered the room."

I was lost in a reverie after reading this line...imagining Tim propped against the headboard reading a book with READING GLASSES perched on that chiseled nose?? How he would fold and put them on top of the book with such competent delicacy?? Protecting the glass?? What kind of frames they would be?? Delicate wires?? Thicc frames that accent his bone structure????? How he would look gazing at you over them?? Halppp.....

How Tim keeps "adjusting" 😏 his position on the bed, how he has so much patient self-control, observing and waiting, engaging her in conversation and her interest...her gentle tease, the domesticity and comfy sexy vibes I am just yearninggggggg...

oct' 21 x acorns

Prompt: acorns Pairing: tim rockford x f!reader Word Count: 724 Warnings: T+ mentions of crimes & a touch of spice. Summary: pretty proud of this one and it's use of the prompt 😋 tim knows the way to your heart is discussing the latest research for your podcast.

x. masterlist

“Acorns? You moving into squirrel crimes now sweetheart?”

“Ha ha,” you responded dryly,  “ACORNS, the Australian Cybercrime Online Reporting Network.” He raised an eyebrow in interest, you weren’t sure if this was the result of learning what the acronym was for or if it had something to do with you starting the process of peeling off your t-shirt.

When you looked back at him, once the shirt was up and over your head, he was adjusting himself where he was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, his glasses now folded on top of the book he had been reading when you’d entered the room.

“So,” he began, a soft smile playing at his lips as he crossed his arms at his bare chest, “what’s caught your eye?” he asked.

You smiled back at him, a genuine one - he knew the way to your heart, true crime.

“So,” you started, turning to the dresser as you unhooked your bra, “so they were seeing an increase in reports on ACORNS, right? You've got your standard mix of fraud, identity theft, all the usual cybercrime stuff. Nothing to write home about right?”

“But?” Tim pressed, playing along.

“But what got me curious was a pattern of crimes that looked like random, disconnected incidents targeting average people. We're talking about everything from a cafe owner in Sydney to a retired nurse in Perth. And this has been going on for years.”

"Years?" Tim echoed, intrigued. "And they're just noticing this now?"

“Exactly!” you replied enthusiastically, tossing your bra into the laundry hamper and reaching into the dresser for one of Tim’s oversized shirts, what he wore when he actually had more than five minutes at home between cases. “The reports have only now been made public, and by the looks of it it’s taken them this long to even realize something might be off, and because it’s public knowledge, it’s caught the attention of the armchair detectives who are digging in, but no one can find a connection.”

Tim shifted in his seat again, tapping his fingers against his chest thoughtfully. “Not entirely strange though,” he said. “Cyber crimes are still relatively new. Many countries are sitting on data that they just don’t know what to do with besides selling it. Though, with any crime, patterns usually emerge sooner or later, someone slips up. Have they found anything that could point to a single culprit or group?”

“Nothing. Zilch. That's why it's so bizarre,” you said, shimming out of your jeans and kicking them off before walking over to sit beside him on the bed. “But here's where it gets interesting. When you compare these Australian cases to similar crimes reported in neighbouring countries like New Zealand or Indonesia, little patterns start to stand out.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, his attention fully piqued. “What kind of patterns are we talking about?”

You grinned, thrilled by his obvious interest. “Teeny tiny little anomalies,” you took his glasses and book and placed them on your bedside table, “Specific coding sequences, certain times of the day when the attacks occur, even certain types of targets that are more frequently hit in both regions. Individually, these little things don't really mean much. But when you start looking at them collectively and across borders, it’s like a constellation. You begin to see the outline of something much bigger.”

“Sounds like someone's running a long con,” Tim observed.

He uncrossed his arms as you swung your leg over to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck to rest on his broad shoulders.

“That's what I'm thinking too,” you said, your voice low as you leaned in to place a kiss on his lips.

Tim's hands slid up your sides, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your back under the t-shirt, “You really shouldn't have bothered.” he said, his voice low and husky.

You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, “Bothered with what?” you whispered feigning cluelessness, trailing kisses down his neck.

“The shirt,” Tim replied, tilting his head back to grant you better access. “You're much better without it.”

You laughed softly, the sound sending shivers down his spine. “I needed something to wear.”

“Who said you needed to wear anything at all?” Tim countered, flipping you both over so he was on top of you.

[wildemaven]

confessions | tim rockford

pairing: tim rockford x f!reader word count: 1349 warnings: 18+ blog; beer consumption, Tim is older than reader but no age given (not more than 10+ years), fluff, pining, secret crushes, kissing, fluff, one mention of calling Tim ‘old’ in a playful manner, (none of these pictures dictate the appearance of reader, this is all purely for vibes and up for your own interpretation) notes: this is my first Tim fic and I’m so excited to be apart of the Summer Lovin’ challenge out on by @pedgito @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy Big shout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for giving it a once over for me!! I appreciate you!!

“Thanks again for coming.” You lean over and say before hiding behind the sip from your plastic cup of ice cold beer. 

“Of course. It’s a bummer your date couldn’t make it.” Tim says now leaning slightly over in your direction so you can hear him. 

The music isn’t loud. More of a steady hum as a slower ballad is played on stage. Low enough that you can carry on an easy conversation without shouting over blasting speakers. 

“Yeah. Definitely a bummer he couldn’t make it. I don’t think I’d be having as much fun as I am if I was alone— so thank you.” You almost feel bad about lying. Your date that canceled on you last minute for this very concert you’re attending right now with your partner instead. 

Expect Tim doesn’t know that there never was a date prior to him accepting your last minute invitation to be your plus one. His detective skills certainly are not keen on the slight crush you've had for the man for some time now. 

“You don’t have to keep thanking me. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to be here. It’s kind of a bonus that they’re one of my favorite bands. Missed out on getting tickets. So I should be thanking you.” Tim bumps your arm playfully with his elbow before directing his attention back to the stage where the lead singer is ripping on his shiny black electric guitar. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize that when I asked you. I’m so glad it worked out like this.” Another lie. 

You knew it was one of Tim’s favorite bands. Overheard him one morning in the break room talking about this upcoming tour and how it’s been a dream of his to see them live. The only problem was this exact venue had sold out before he had gotten a chance to even attempt to get tickets. 

It pays to know people. Especially the kind of people who owe you favors. You had immediately called in the favor and you were able to secure two tickets that were relatively close to the stage without any issues. 

Tim Rockford has been your partner at the police department for the last three years. The crush you’ve been quietly harboring for him has been alive for nearly the same amount of time. 

You tried to not feel guilty while flat out lying to him about the whole thing. Especially right now with how much he is enjoying himself. His head bobbing in time with the beat. The words so effortlessly fall  from his mouth as he sings along to each song. 

As the song plays on, you don’t see the way Tim is admiring you thoroughly enjoying the music. Your arms high in the air, falling into a rhythmic wave that mirrors the other concert goers. What surprises him most, and finds almost angelic, is the way you sing word for word without missing a beat, making him even more grateful you asked him to come now, so he could witness such a sight. 

“I’m surprised you know all the words.” He says with a grin that makes your stomach swoop instantly. 

“Of course I do. It’s a good song.” You’d only discovered it when you began your rigorous studying of the band’s entire discography after securing the tickets. But Tim doesn’t need to know that— yet. “They’re a great band for being around for so long.” 

He shoots you a pained look.

“A great band for being around for so long? Sweetheart, I was listening to them in high school. You calling me old?” He turns fully to you in the small row where your seats have been abandoned for the better part of the show. His signature Detective Rockford stance, hip cocked out and hand secure at his waist band, is way less intimidating when he’s dressed in his off duty casual clothes and unarmed. 

“Well, not as old as my dad…” Technically, Tim isn’t not much older than you, but the years between you were enough for there to be a difference in tastes of music. You shrug your shoulders at him, not sure if he’s picking up the flirty tone you’ve adopted in the last few minutes. “But if the shoe fits, I guess.” 

“I’m hurt— wounded.” Tim grabs at the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching under his grip. 

“What was that?” You cup your hand over your ear and lean back into him. “I can’t hear you over your knees popping every time you stand up.” 

His smile drops and it has you feeling like you might have crossed a line that has blown any chance of ever being something more serious with Tim. 

“Tim— I was totally kidding. I’m so sor—“ Tim cuts you off before you can properly apologize to him. 

Tim’s lips are softer than you had imagined them being, slotted perfectly over yours. The music playing is no longer the main event for you, fading into the background as Tim conveys to you his own undisclosed feelings for you through the kiss. It’s a moment that feels straight out of one of your favorite rom-com movies. 

“I hope I haven’t been reading this whole thing wrong and I didn’t just make an ass out of myself by shutting up that pretty mouth of yours.” Tim’s musky cologne mixes with the beer he’d been savoring as his words fan across your face at such a close proximity. 

“No. You definitely didn’t— to both things.” A cool breeze sweeps through, alleviating the warmth that’s settled on your skin. “I have a confession to make.” 

“What’s that?” His thumb grazes over the apple of your cheek. It’s gentle effort helps ease all of your shot nerves. 

“There was no date. I got the tickets and planned to ask you. I didn’t want to sound desperate or weird, so I made it seem like I was going with someone else and that they canceled at the last minute.” 

“Oh— well I guess I should confess something to you then.” There’s a small hint of relief that you detect in his voice at your confession, you wouldn’t be one of the best detectives in your department to let that tell slide by unseen. “I was jealous of your non-existent date.” 

“Really?!” 

A light fluttering sensation swirls through you. Sincerity etched in the flecks of the warm brown eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah. Heard you talking about it with everyone at work. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small part of me that had wished it was me going with you.” 

“You’re only saying that because it’s your favorite band playing right now.” 

You amusingly roll your eyes and push at his solid unmoving arm, but he catches your wrist before you can pull away. 

“Nah, I would have been jealous even if it was that Bieber kid.” Tim maneuvers his hand around yours, interlocking your fingers together. 

“Good to know, Rockford. I'll remember that for next time.” 

The chords of a new song fill the air. A vivacious energy spreads through the crowd like a wildfire. It’s not enough to break the small bubble Tim and you are currently existing in. 

“Next time? So what does that mean for us then, Sweetheart?” His brows knit together. He’s hopeful at the prospect of a next time, but doesn’t want to be too expectant and scare you away before he even has a chance to have you. 

“I don’t know. Let’s listen to the rest of this concert. Then afterwards you can take me to that old diner you love over on Pine Street. Order some food and we can talk until they threaten to kick us out.”

“If I’m not mistaken, that kind of sounds like the perfect first date.” He delivers another weak-in-the-knee inducing smile and you can’t help but mirror it with a little wink. 

“Way to use those detective skills.” 

It’s your turn to kiss him. It doesn’t linger as long as you’d like, but the night is still young. 

[milla-frenchy]

The detective

2k6 | Tim Rockford x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: being a suspect in a theft case, you get interrogated by a handsome and dominant personal investigator Warnings: 18+ mdni. dubcon. power imbalance, brat tamer, humiliation, degradation, sir kink, spitting, spanking, oral (m), cockwarming, piv, cum eating No age specified. Pic in mood board for mood only

a/n: this is a contribution to @iamasaddie writing challenge 3.0 💛🫶 prompt: humiliation/Tim Rockford Dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏 @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing and for being you 💕 🫶

“That’s all I have to say, detective,” you concluded with a not so subtle sigh.

You were sitting in front of a desk and the detective was facing you. Rubbing his beard with his thumb. He smiled when he heard you say "detective" in a condescending tone.

“You know ma’am, there is some inconsistency in your testimony.”

“Excuse me? You’re just a private detective. I don't think you have the qualifications to presume any of this.” You had a hard time hiding your annoyance at being there, summoned by that detective to that dingy, dust-covered office. When he asked you to go to that room, you pointedly rolled your eyes as you passed him.

“Well, sorry ma’am, but the information you’re giving me is clearly imprecise. Seems like you’re forgetting some important details.”

“I already told you I have nothing more to say, detective.” He smiled again, and you rolled your eyes even harder than when you had entered the room, then you stood up.

“Sit down.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘sit down’. I’m not finished.”

The tone in which he talked to you sent a deep shiver down your spine, and you sat back. 

He stood up and took off his black suit jacket, and hung it on the back of his chair. He was wearing a holster over his white shirt and for a moment your eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and neck, then his tie. He walked around the table, passing behind you.

“I need you to be a little more collaborative. I need to see that you are making every possible effort to help this investigation move forward.”

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his tanned forearms with multiple veins, and your eyes lingered on his body again.

“I already—,” you paused when he took out a tape recorder and pressed ‘play’, leaning towards you from across the table. One palm resting on it. You frowned, annoyed by his behavior. When you heard the moans, the frown turned into shock, then embarrassment.

“Oh, fuck…fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Come on, soak my cock. Yeah, just like that.”

Only your moans were now audible. Then, the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“You like to be fucked like a whore, uh? Bent over a fucking table?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck me! Harder, please. Please…”

The detective pressed ‘stop’, and put the tape recorder on the table. 

“So, ma’am. I’m afraid I’m going to have to repeat myself. This recording was made the day before the jewelry robbery. In his apartment, where the jewelry was kept in the safe. No one else entered the apartment except you and him.”

“Detective, I... I don’t know what happened to the jewelry.” Hearing the recording had disoriented you, and your tone was much less confident and arrogant. You felt vulnerable. He felt the change in your voice immediately and his smile turned into a grin. He was clearly enjoying the situation more and more, and you, less and less. But his firm tone awakened something in you and you squirmed in your chair.

“Well… Where has your attitude gone, ma’am?” he asked, walking again, and then stood near your chair, arms crossed. Way too close to you.

“I don't allow you to talk to me like-” You started to say in an unsure voice, totally disoriented by the recording and by him, but you stopped again when you saw his bulge, and looked at him, eyes widened.

“Ok, that’s enough now”, you said as you stood up, trying to regain some control, but he grabbed your arm, bringing his face closer, his brown eyes fixed on yours.

“I have enough to call the police, you know. All your little games are gonna amuse them, for sure.”

“Shit”, you said, dropping your gaze to the ground.

“And the problem is that you wasted my time, right? With that tone of yours… how do you plan to fix this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You came here with a very unpleasant attitude, for someone who doesn't understand things quite well”, he said, stepping back from you, before grabbing his chair and placing it against the opposite wall. He sat there, manspreading. 

“What do you want?”, you asked in a low voice.

“You're really not the smartest, are you? Pleasant to look at, for sure, but a bit dumb, poor thing… Come towards me”, he added. 

You took a step forward, hesitant.

“No”, he said abruptly. You looked at him with confusion, and he added "hands and knees. Like a whore."

The reminder of the recording, his firm voice, the way he was sitting, everything about him exuded dominance and confidence, and you felt your own self-assurance crumbling ever more.

And you don't know what happened in your brain, if his attitude made you short-circuit, but you sure felt the desire soaking your panties. You looked at him, eyes widened. Shocked by his order and by your arousal. By his smirk. As if he knew you wouldn't say no. Your cheeks heated up thinking that he surely had listened to the whole tape. Hearing you being submissive, ready to do anything to have more and more of the cock that ruined your throat and pussy that night. 

He was waiting calmly for you to process what was happening. And what would happen next. He saw you hesitating, and added “unless you want me to call the police? I'm sure they'd love to play “good cop/bad cop” with a brat like you. In your pretty little skirt. So short, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, mmm?”

He paused, then added, “do as I said. Now.”

And that was it. You knelt down, in your tight skirt and heels, and advanced slowly towards him. Both humiliated and horny. Your back arched and your clit was twitching. Eyes fixed on him. Ashamed to bend so easily, but eager to learn what would happen next. How far he would go, as if you were not in charge anymore. 

When you reached his lap, you sat back on your heels. You looked down at your knees, covered in dust, then looked up at him. Waiting.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he asked in a husky voice. You swallowed loudly. It was like he knew exactly what you'd easily dive for.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes…sir?”

“I'm gonna accept it for now. But you will call me "sir" with no hesitation before I'm done with you.” Wetness ruined your panties a little more.

“Follow me. The same way.”

He got up and went to sit at the desk, gathering the entire file in front of him.

“Come here”, he repeated, pointing at his crotch with his chin to show you exactly where he wanted you. And you obeyed, slavishly, as he undid his leather belt and placed it on the table. You slipped under the desk, between his knees.

“Unzip.”

You opened his suit pants, and grabbed his cock. Half hard. Even now, his cock was big, and you tried not to moan. But it slipped from your lips nevertheless.

“In your mouth. Keep me warm while I check what to send to the police.”

A part of you still couldn't believe you were in this situation, in this dingy office, and that the detective was ordering you to act like that. And you couldn’t believe you were about to submit again. To be humiliated again. And that it was turning you on to the point that your pussy was dripping. You even wondered if you would have submitted, even without his threats to call the police. He was hot, way too hot, and everything in him exuded natural dominance. And you didn't really know how to resist all of it. In that office or elsewhere.

So you submitted, and took his warm, thick, heavy cock in your mouth, its weight pressing down on your tongue. You waited and didn’t move, feeling used and dripping for it.

You heard him sorting the papers, keeping some in hand longer. Sometimes you would hear the tip of his pen scratching the paper. You heard him rub his beard. You felt his cock twitch sometimes, but he had impressive self-control. He never got fully hard between your lips. 

Minutes passed and your jaw was getting sore. Your saliva was now running down your chin, as your wetness was flowing from your pussy. Your knees hurt as you were standing on the cement floor, and when you tried to change the position he put his hand on the back of your neck, and told you not to move. His warm skin on yours made you shiver and you didn't move. Letting your knees stiffen in the imposed position.

“Ok, that’s enough”, he said, pulling back after a time you couldn’t evaluate.

You heard a clicking sound when he told you to come out from under the desk, but to remain kneeling. You felt the handcuff bracelets on your wrists, behind your back, then the sound of metal being tightened. “Don’t want your dusty hands on my cock”, he added.

You were facing the table, and he leaned on it, his cock out of his pants. 

“You want that cock?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Suck it.”

Upright on your knees, he grabbed his cock and held it towards you. Unable to hold back a moan when you felt it again between your lips, before you started sucking him, applying yourself. You loved his taste and loved blowing him, to be on your knees for him, handcuffed, in that room.

“You’re being filmed, you know. And it’s a shame you’re so bad at sucking a dick.”

Petrified, you stopped for a few seconds. But there was no way he was going to make you doubt yourself. You pulled back and placed your tongue flat just above his balls, then licked his shaft towards his tip, twirling your tongue on it. You leaned down again, and licked his balls. They were big, resting heavy under his cock. You thought they must be full of cum, and you couldn't wait for him to fill you with it. Your tongue lapped at their barely hairy skin. He got hard immediately. You looked at him, a slight smirk on your face.

“Open”, he said. “Tongue out.” Then he leaned down slightly, before letting his saliva fall down your chin and into your mouth.

“Swallow. Like a good girl.”

You swallowed, then stuck your tongue out again to show him.

“Suck.”

You approached him and licked the precum that was beading on his tip. Then rounded your lips, trying to take as much of him in your mouth as possible, until your nose brushed against his hair.

“How do you feel, sucking a detective’s cock in his office?”

You looked at him, not daring to stop.

“I kinda like it, when a brat is on her knees for me. Mouth full of my cock.”

He thrust and hit the back of your throat, making you gasp and pull away, coughing.

“Damn. You’re so pathetic.” You stared at the trickle of saliva that linked you to him, the only link between you and his cock, which your mouth was already missing.

“Desperate, mmm? Say “I’m a whore and I just want to get filled by your dick, sir.”

“I’m a whore and I just want to get filled by your dick, sir.” He was right. No hesitation in your voice this time.

“Bend over the desk. Lemme see that cunt.”

You rested your chest against the wooden surface, your hands still bound by the handcuffs behind your back. He placed his hand on your ass, caressing its roundness. Gently, so gently that you closed your eyes for a moment and held your breath.

You didn't see the first spanking coming, and you let out a cry. Then the second, just before he unzipped your skirt. Sliding it slowly from the small of your back to the bottom of your buttocks. The third spanking made you moan, and ruined your panties a little more.

The mixture of sweetness and pain turned you on. Standing behind you, he pressed his cock against your ass. His manwood pressed against you, you only wished to feel his cock in your cunt, pushing your walls.

He grabbed the hem of your skirt and slid it down your hips, then your thighs, through your ankles. Your tights followed. He knelt down to remove these pieces of clothing from your feet. Your ass, covered by your panties, was at his eye level. When he slid them slowly down and your folds got exposed, he hissed softly.

“Alright. I hope you're better at taking a dick than at sucking it.”

He stood up and glided his cock along your soaked folds, making you moan.

“Your cunt is dripping for every man? Or you just like to be humiliated by a detective?”

He slipped his tip into your dripping hole, making you gasp, and stopped.

“Answer me.”

“I… I like to be humiliated and degraded.”

“Beg me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, sir. Please, please… need your cock.”

“God, you’re so pitiful.”

He sank without stopping, bottoming out, and you whimpered. Full of his cock. He pulled back and thrust all the way in again, then started fucking  you hard and fast, making you moan with every thrust of his hips. Hands clinging to your hips, yours cuffed behind your back, you could only take his cock. Let him use you freely. The desk shook under his thrusts. Tears were beading in the corners of your eyes, as he was growling, spreading your pussy with his shaft.

“Yeah, make a show for the camera. Maybe you’ll have an Oscar for the best drama queen.”

He grabbed your shoulders for more leverage, and was fucking you deep and slow now. His cock was brushing your g spot at every move, and you quickly came on his cock, trembling.

“Such a slut, coming that fast on my cock, uh?”

You were unable to answer, and he sneered, adding “so cuckdumb”, pounding you faster and you were moaning continually, feeling your wetness trickling from your cunt.

He pulled back and looked at your soaking pussy before thrusting in again. “You're so wet, my cock and balls are covered in white, Jesus.”

He grabbed your hips and railed you, chasing his orgasm.

“Say “I’m a whore and I just want to be full of your cum, sir.”

“I’m a whore and I just want to be full of your cum, sir.”

He sneered again, as if you just said the most stupid thing in the world. “Your pussy isn’t good enough to make me cum, I’m gonna have to jerk off,” he spat, before pulling out of your pussy. He grabbed your elbow and made you kneel in front of him.

“Tongue out, open wide.”

You stuck out your tongue, eyes staring into his. He looked at you from his height, eyes frowning. His hand tight on his cock, he jerked off. Strong, slow jerks on his hard, thick cock. And you had already forgotten your pussy clenching over nothing. Now you wanted his cum. So you waited, tongue out. Until he groaned, and the white ropes of cum hit your tongue, your cheeks, your chin. Covering your face with his seed.

“Swallow.” Of course you obeyed.

“Say ”thank you sir.”

“Thank you sir.”

You were exhausted, a little part of you was ashamed. And another part missed feeling him in you already.

He rubbed his tip against your chin, your lips, your cheeks, then he tucked his cock into his clothes.

“So. About the jewelry. Let's start from the beginning. I might need more time to investigate and I'm afraid we’ll have to work closely together again”, he said, and your pussy clenched, begging for more.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[guiltyasdave]

i usually do my weekly fic recs on sunday, but i’ll be pretty busy tomorrow, so i’m just doing them now :) and i looooved what i read this week, so please check these out!

especially right now, when being a fanfic writer isn't the most enjoyable experience tbh, please try spreading kindness and show your writers some love <3

a list of all my recs ever can be found here!

dividers by @/enchanthings ✨

i'm organizing the fics by character and adding emojis to indicate the contents a little. still, please look at the tags/ warnings and decide for yourself if something might not be for you.

💘= fluff • ❤️‍🔥= smut • 🤍= angst • 🖤= dark

📚= oneshot • 📖= series

dave york

volatile by @javier-pena ❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📖

reckless by @whataperfectwasteoftime 💘❤️‍🔥📖

pitch black by @whataperfectwasteoftime 💖❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📚

tainted heart by @sizzlingcloudmentality ❤️‍🔥🖤📖

sight universe by @goodwithcheese 💘❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📚

whisked away by @joelalorian 💘📖

dave york & tim rockford

pack your heart, you might need it by @sin-djarin 💖❤️‍🔥🤍📚

dieter bravo

dieter’s doggy style by @schnarfer 💘📖

dieter bravo & joel miller

stretch by @sp00kymulderr ❤️‍🔥📖

din djarin

hatch by @secretelephanttattoo 💘🤍📖

fifteen minutes by @whocaresstillthelouvre 💘❤️‍🔥📖

frankie morales

europa by @the-mandawhor1an 💘❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📖

javier peña

midnight rainstorms by @thundermartini 💘🤍📖

i’ll carry you by @almostfoxglove 💘❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📚

joel miller

the checklist by @thetriumphantpanda 💖❤️‍🔥📚

smother by @beardedjoel 💖❤️‍🔥🤍🖤📚

ain’t that a bite by @almostfoxglove 💘📖

unbound by @sp00kymulderr ❤️‍🔥🤍📖

pretty baby by @mrsmando ❤️‍🔥🤍📖

on every street by @thundermartini 🤍📖

rotten by @alltheirdamn ❤️‍🔥🖤📖

lost cause by @joelalorian 💘❤️‍🔥🤍📖

pillow by @iamasaddie 💘📖

life and loss by @wildemaven 💘🤍📖

a fake soccer date by @toomanystoriessolittletime 💘❤️‍🔥📖

until then by @studioghibelli 🤍📖

lucien flores

trying something new by @missredherring 💘❤️‍🔥📖

marcus acacius

circumstance by @javier-pena ❤️‍🔥🖤📖

my own writing

wildest dreams — dave york x f!reader (now a finished series!!! 🥹) 💘❤️‍🔥🤍📚

dancing phantoms on the terrace — oberyn martell x f!reader 🤍📖

[ladamedusoif]

Cookies (Tim Rockford X F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 26

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Word Count: 1455

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Established relationship (Reader is Tim’s wife); workplace sex; fingering; unprotected but safe PiV sex (Reader is on birth control); no use of Y/N; no physical descriptions of Reader; strong language; when we say “fuck the police” this is what we mean

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist!

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up with my work.

Tim kisses you on the cheek as he heads down to the precinct on Christmas Eve, overcoat in hand.

“I hate leaving you all, baby, but…”

You wrap him in a tight embrace and return his kiss. “Tim, you’re a good man. I’m sure Corinna appreciates you taking the Christmas Eve cover, so she can be at home for her baby’s first Christmas.”

Your husband’s ears pink up a little at your praise. “I guess. And older cops did it for us, too, when the kids were tiny.”

He looks over your shoulder into your mother’s kitchen, where your daughters are excitedly asking their grandma whether the Christmas cookies are cool enough to decorate. You turn and smile at the scene.

“I love you, Detective Rockford. We’ll save you some cookies. Come home safe.”

***

The cop at the front desk is thanking his lucky stars as he sips his umpteenth cup of filter coffee. It’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve, and - other than a couple of minor call-outs for the guys out in the patrol car to break up bar fights - he hasn’t had to book a single person into the cells.

It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

And then the door buzzes. He sighs in exasperation and checks the CCTV. A woman, wearing a winter hat and carrying a tote bag. He presses the button to let her in.

“Hello there, ma’am. Now, I have to warn you, as it’s Christmas Eve we don’t have a full complement of officers in tonight and - oh! Hi there, Mrs R!”

You smile as you take off your hat and scarf, and hand him a small tin. “Hey, Bryan. Tim in his office?”

“Sure is. Hey, these some of your famous cookies?”

You’re already climbing the stairs to your husband’s office. “Maybe. Open it and see if Santa thinks you’ve been a good cop this year.”

***

Tim’s at his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up and tie slightly loose, flipping through some papers with his glasses on. The desk lamp bathes him in a warm light, highlighting his handsome features, and you pause for a moment to take him in before you knock on the door.

He looks up in surprise before a broad smile spreads across his face. “Hello there, miss. What brings you to the precinct on a Christmas Eve?”

You carefully close the door and turn the little lock on the handle, before pulling down the blind. You reach into your bag and produce another cookie tin, sauntering over to Tim’s desk and placing it in front of him.

“So, everyone was tucked up in bed at home, and would you believe it? I met Santa Claus, leaving gifts for the girls.”

Your husband chuckles and pulls you onto his lap. “That so?”

You nod. “The man himself. And you know what he said?”

Tim shakes his head, eyes twinkling. You lean in and kiss him softly.

“He said that Tim Rockford had been a particularly good boy this year, and he should get an extra special gift.”

Tim’s eyes turn to the cookie tin. “The cookies?”

You shrug, reach for the tin, and open the lid. “You could say that, I guess. They’re part of the gift.”

He bursts out laughing when he looks inside and takes out a gingerbread man perfectly decorated to resemble - well, him. White shirt, black pants, dark hair and moustache, tie, and even a pair of shoulder holsters.

“Your handiwork?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “Damn right. Why wouldn’t I make cookies that look like the most delicious man I know?”

He eyes you up suspiciously, but a smile plays on his lips. “You said the cookies were part of the gift.”

You stand up and move his paperwork out of the way, clearing enough space on the desk so that you can sit up on it. “The other part is under my coat.”

Tim’s eyes widen as he reaches for the buttons on your knee-length woollen coat, unbuttoning them eagerly and pulling the coat open.

His mouth falls open. “Holy fuck, baby.”

“You like what you see?” You fight against all the anxieties and insecurities that haunt you about your body, focusing on the look of astonished desire that’s burning in your husband’s eyes.

Tim’s eyes roam over you, taking in the dark red bra and matching, high-waisted panties trimmed in black lace, the sheer black stockings. He carefully eases off your coat and throws it to one side, running his big hands gently over the soft skin of your shoulders as he slips down the straps of your bra.

“I love what I see.” His voice is a rapt whisper.

He slips his hands to your back and waist and pulls you tight to him as he kisses you deeply, moaning as you twine your fingers through his dark, grey-streaked curls. You bring your hands to his belt buckle, working it open and undoing his pants so you can palm his cock, already hardening under your touch.

Tim brings his mouth to the side of your neck and begins to softly bite and lick the sensitive skin, working his way down to your breasts as one hand holds you in place while the other tugs aside the lacy fabric that covers your pussy. “I fucking love what I see,” he grunts, pulling down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts. “I love you. My sexy fucking wife.”

You whine as two thick fingers trail across your folds before settling on your clit, working it steadily in the way only he knows. “I’m going to get you good and wet for me, my love,” Tim murmurs, encouraging you to lift your hips so he can ease off your panties.

“Mmmm… and then what are you going to do to me, Detective?”

He slips his fingers into your cunt, pulling a delighted gasp from you. “And then, Mrs Rockford, I plan on fucking you hard right here on this desk. But only if you come for me first.”

A hook of his fingers and you’re squealing with pleasure as Tim spreads you out in front of him, standing between your thighs as you continue to stroke his dick. He fucks you over and over with his fingers, watching you writhe and buck as you near your climax.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours. “You look so beautiful like this, all spread out and ready to come on my fingers. Can’t fuckin’ believe you’re mine, sometimes.” Your pussy tightens around him and he knows you’re about to come.

“Tim…Tim, fuck, I’m - oh, fuck, baby.” He keeps fingering you through the orgasm, sucking on your nipples as he extends the wave of pleasure running through you.

You reach up and undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, hitching up his under vest so you can feel the soft, warm skin of his belly against yours as he pushes himself inside you and begins to fuck you. You hitch up your legs around his waist to hold Tim in place, slipping your hands under his shirt and gripping his broad shoulders firmly as he takes you on his desk.

“Feel good?”

“Fucking incredible, Tim - you?”

He leans his head against your chest and flicks his tongue over your nipple. “Baby, you always feel amazing but this - fuck, this is so fuckin’ good. Feels so tight and wet for me. Listen to that.”

For a moment the only sound in the office is the lewd wetness, skin on skin, and your pants and moans.

“Can’t believe you did this for me, baby,” Tim grunts, speeding up his rhythm and making you whine, arching your back. “Came down here in nothing but lingerie, ready to fuck me…fuck, you’re incredible.”

You giggle a little. “Got lonely at home, my love. Needed to have my man.”

Tim’s faltering rhythm tells you he’s nearly there as he buries himself deeper inside you. “You’ve got him, baby. All yours. All…”

And he’s there, spilling inside you as he collapses on your chest.

***

Cleaned up but still a little dishevelled, you sit on the floor of the office and eat some of the cookies, accompanied by weak coffee.

In the distance, you can hear chimes signalling the hour.

“Hey. It’s midnight. Merry Christmas, Detective Rockford.”

Tim kisses you, tasting of ginger and sugar and spice and all things nice.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs Rockford. And thank you for my extra-special gift.”

[nerdieforpedro]

The Brave, the Bold, The Dirty - Fanfics that I adore

Volume 5

All fanfics on this list are for readers age 18 and up, please respect the author's tags, warnings and notes as they're there so you know what's in them. Read at your own risk.

Room 1918 by @megamindsecretlair (Nomad Steve Rogers x Black female plus size reader)

Sweet Treat - Part Two by @mrsmando (Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x plus size female reader) Follow up to 'Sweet Treat - part one.'

La Petit Mort @boliv-jenta (Joel Miller x reader and Dave York x reader) Dark Fic

Misfire @qveerthe0ry (Dieter Bravo x GN reader)

Fluffer by @proxima-writes (Dieter Bravo x PA female writer)

Hey Good Lookin’ - part one and Hey Good Lookin’ - part two by @gwendibleywrites (Chubby shy Frankie Morales x plus size reader)

Lemonade Sparkles by @frenchiereading (Frankie Morales x female reader)

Watta Man - A Marcus Pike Story by @atinylittlepain (Marcus Pike x female reader)

O’ Christmas Tree by @covetyou (Dieter Bravo x GN reader)

Lingerie by @604to647 (Din Djarin - modern AU x female reader)

Once in a Blue Moon by @whatsnewalycat (Dieter Bravo x female reader)

Hold Harder by @sin-djarin (Tim Rockford x female reader)

Christmas Indulgence by @movievillainess721 (Jack Daniels x plus size female reader)

Cowboy Hat Joel x Reader (an ask) by @theywhowriteandknowthings (Joel Miller x female reader)

Oh, The Wildflowers by @adora-but-ginger (Joel Miller x GN reader)

A Nanny for Christmas by @absurdthirst (Dave York x plus size female reader)

Baker Wonderland by @integra1127grimmreaper (Javier Guterrez x plus size female reader)

Consummating the Riduurok @beskarandblasters (Din Djarin x female reader)

Consent by @fuckyeahdindjarin (Dieter Bravo x female reader)

White Christmas by @absurdthirst (Joel Miller x female reader)

Symphony by @maggiemayhemnj (Joel Miller x Jersey - OFC)

What the Heart Wants by @artemiseamoon (Pero Tovar x female reader)

Javier Peña & His Sweetheart (Chubby Peña) by @beefrobeefcal (Chubby Javier Peña x female reader)

Please check out everyone's listed fics and master lists! Don't forget to reblog and comment, writers love interactions. 🥰

[musings-of-a-rose]

The Detective and The Thief

Pairing: Detective Tim Rockford x The Thief x f! reader

Word Count: 4300+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I don’t know. I saw the commercial and thought things. Thanks to @vanemando15 for help! I’m not beta’ing this so please excuse any typos.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Tim Rockford Masterlist

The Thief Masterlist

5 years ago…

I’m bored. Surrounded by the finest things money can buy, but I feel alone. My parents always bought me everything I ever desired, and a lot I didn’t. I think it was their way of compensating for the lack of time the spent with me. 

That didn’t stop them from trying to marry me off as soon as possible. 

The second I started to bleed, they started planning, trying to “connect” our family with some other ones just as rich. They couldn’t do it legally until I became of age, but that didn’t stop them from trying to force a connection. 

But I hated all of them. Every. Single. One. 

My parents are at their wits end with me. The time I do see them is spent with them lecturing me about how I’m now 24 and unmarried, how I need to marry this heir or that one for the “good of the family”. 

But they’re all the same, boring and mind numbingly stupid. There’s no way I was going to waste my life being arm candy for some heir who couldn’t hold a basic conversation with me. 

If they weren’t boring, they were mean, saying women were meant to be seen and not heard. Well, I made sure they heard me. 

My parents were out at some weekend event, leaving me alone in this giant mansion. The staff had mostly gone home or retired to their quarters, aside from security, leaving the house feeling empty. I’m feeling bored, deciding to head to the library on the floor below to attempt to find a book I haven’t read already. I pull on my silk robe over my nightgown, sliding my feet into some soft slippers as I make my way out of my room. 

It’s about halfway down the stairs when I realize I’m not alone in the house. 

A shadow moves down the hall, pausing at the door to my parent’s art gallery. Straining, I just barely can make out the small clicks of the lock being picked before the door silently opens, the dark shadow moving inside. I should run, yell for security, but something compels me forward. 

Quietly, I make my way to the gallery, pausing at the door to listen for any signs of the intruder inside. Hearing none, and being impressed with this fact, I push open the door, slinking inside through the gap and closing the door behind me. I tiptoe over 2 isles, where a faint glow was emanating, and pause to see a man, dressed all in black, studying a painting, one I know for a fact is the real deal and not a copy like a lot of these.

“I’m impressed. No one has ever been able to creep up on me before.”

He straightens up and turns to face me, the minimal light casting shadows across his form. But the parts I can see causes my breath to catch in my throat. 

He’s beautiful. Big dark eyes stare through me, his head cocking to the side as he continues to study me and my continued silence.

“Ah. You are the mistress of the house, yes?”

“I-I am. Well, the non conforming daughter, anyway.” Why did I tell him that?

A smirk tugs on his face. “Non conforming, huh? What, did you tell your daddy you didn’t want a black pony but a brown one?”

“More like I don’t want to marry some man who is ignorant, mean, and frankly dull, just to connect our money to theirs.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “A rebel.”

I shrug. “I don’t want to waste my life playing bored arm candy to some heir who will only look at me when he wants to fuck me.”

He chuckles and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve heard. “That would be a terrible fate for such an interesting woman.”

I nod towards the painting he had been observing. “You’re right. That one’s real. The rest in this section are highly accurate fakes.”

The man glances back at the painting before looking at me. “I am going to take this, you know?”

I nod. “I figured that’s why you were studying it so intently. Don’t want to steal a fake. You should go down about another 2 doors. The stairs there will lead you to the jewel safe room.”

He smirks. “I have already been there.” He shifts and I see a bag, obviously full of items from our house. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turns, gently lifting the small painting from the wall and starts to prepare it to be moved, his deft fingers gliding over it so as not to disturb it. Once finished, he gathers up his gear and turns to me, giving me a nod.

“Goodnight, miss. Don’t ever conform.”

He walks past me, barely making a sound. He’s almost to the door before I find my voice.

“Take me.”

He pauses, hand hovering over the doorhandle, his head turning to speak to me over his shoulder. 

“What?”

“You say you’re the greatest thief. What better prize to steal than this billionaire’s daughter?”

He turns to me, smirking. “You would want to come with me? To live your life with a thief?”

I nod. “I cannot stand it here. I was already thinking of ways to get away from this life, and then you broke in, taking my entire attention. Or stealing my attention.”

He chuckles, closing the distance between us. He crooks his finger, gently tipping my chin up to look at him and I swallow hard. 

“I will not force you to do anything you do not want. Think about what you’re saying before choosing this life.”

“I don’t need to think. I’m yours.”

—----

Present Day…

The first few years with Mateo, commonly known as The Thief, were amazing. I traveled the world with him, using my knowledge of the world of the wealthy to help him gain access to places he normally wouldn’t. I never directly stole anything, something we were both adamant about, but I would help him unlock societal doors. 

The time he wasn’t spending on thieving or planning his next heist he spent between my legs, pulling sounds from me I never knew I could make. I was utterly in love with Mateo. As corny as it sounds, he had stolen my heart. 

Which makes trying to get away from him the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. 

I was growing tired. My parents had looked for me for about a year before giving up. But once I was spotted by someone who knew me, laughing it up at a party for Mateo to get access to their vaults, my parents resumed their chase. I’m not sure they were at all concerned for my safety, moreso for me to fullfill my familial duty and marry an heir. 

Mateo and I spent more time avoiding my parents reach, starting a rift between us. He was never violent with me, never screamed or yelled, but we definitely had arguments and I could tell he was tiring of the weight of my parents pulling him down. 

I suppose that’s what made him sloppy one night, accidentally leaving behind one of his tools next to a jewel safe. Luckily, he always wears gloves, but that didn’t stop him from being livid, and although he’d never admit it, terrified at being caught.

I can’t back out, can’t leave him. He won’t let me, saying I know too much about him and his process, having never revealed it to anyone. It didn’t matter how much I promised him I would say nothing, that I would make up a story to my parents about searching for an heir on my own without their influence. 

“I told you to think before you left with me that night.”

“I didn’t know it would be like this! You’ve changed, Mateo.”

Anger flashes in Mateo’s eyes. “I am a thief, querida. What did you think this life would be like?”

—----

Somehow, one day I managed to stray from my routine, saying I needed extra time to make the connection to open those societal doors. He had no reason to doubt me, but I still saw slight suspicion in his eyes, a look that had never been there before. 

I stand in front of an office building, several stories tall and set back away from the main streets. I glance back down at the paper I’ve been clutching in my hand to double check the address. Walking up to the intercom, I scan the list of names, pushing the button of the one I needed. The intercom buzzes and a voice comes over the speaker, static nearly cutting out some words.

“Rockford.”

“Uh, hi. I found your name in the paper?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Um, no. I wasn’t able to-”

“You’ll have to make an appointment-”

“Please, sir. I..I don’t think I’ll be able to come back.”

There’s a pause before the door buzzes and I slide inside, heading up a few flights of stairs after seeing the elevator was out of order. I find the door labeled TIM ROCKFORD, PI and knock.

“Come in.”

I enter, taking in the small office space. There’s a small bathroom at the back but otherwise there’s just enough space for a desk, some filing cabinets, a couple chairs, and a couch, which I could tell was doubling as a bed. I couldn’t blame him. I may have money but even I knew rent was ridiculously high, especially in these bigger cities. 

“Tim Rockford.” I look up at the man and have to swallow back a lump in my throat. He looks so like Mateo that for a moment, I thought he was. I tell him my name and we shake hands, Tim motioning towards a chair. 

“Please. Have a seat.”

I sit, nerves lighting up my body. 

“What seems to be the issue, miss? Husband stepping out on you? Lost your favorite necklace to the maid?”

I can’t blame him for the snide tone. I look the part of a bored, rich housewife because that’s what I had been destined to become. I’d hate me too.

I take a deep sigh. “I’m in deep. 3 years ago, I ran off with a man who captured my heart. Everything was great until my parents started following us.”

He nods, taking a note. “And you want me to what, tell your rich parents to stop looking for probably their only child?”

Damn he’s good. “Not..not exactly-”

He sighs. “Listen, I don’t have time to placate you rich elitists while us lower people are having real problems. If you want your parents to stop bothering you, you’ll have to tell them your-”

“I know who The Thief is.”

Silence.

“You what?” His eyes bore into me, trying to detect a lie.

“That’s who I ran off with. The Thief.”

“The Thief. You mean The Thief? The one that’s been plaguing all the major houses across, well across the globe?”

I nod. “Yes. Him.”

“Tell me everything.”

So I do. I tell him how we met, how I’ve been helping him get in social circles, everything except where he is and what his name is. Rockford’s eyes grow wider the more I tell him, scribbling notes furiously. 

“And you just do this for him? Voluntarily?”

“Yes.”

His eyes meet mine and he cocks his head to the side. “Why?”

I let out a breath, puffing out over my lips, a sadness in my eyes. “Because I love him.” 

He studies me a few moments longer. “Does he love you back?”

“I…he did at one time. Now? I’m not so sure. It’s hard to reach him.”

“Does he leave you often?”

I nod. “We’re usually together, but often he will leave me.”

“Do you think he’s cheating on you?”

“I don’t…I don’t think so. Not really. But that’s not why I’m here.”

He nods, making more notes. “You’re here because, what? You want out but don’t want to face jail time?”

“I’ve never stolen anything.”

“You were an accomplice.”

“All I did was forge connections. Mateo figured out the rest.”

“He’s an intelligent man.”

I smile. “He’s the smartest man I’ve ever met. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him.”

“So what do you want then, miss?”

I watch Tim’s face for several moments, the way he chews on the inside of his cheek, his shoulders shifting slightly, tugging at the seams of his shirt. 

“I want him to realize who he is and to accept it. His fate.”

Tim nods. “Even if that means putting him behind bars?”

“Whatever it takes to help him realize who he is.”

Tim nods, taking a few more notes. “Ok, well first thing - is there another heist planned?”

I nod. “Tonight at the Wellmen estate. He’s got it all planned already.”

“Do you know what his plans are?”

“Some. He doesn’t always tell me everything. I know he’s going to try and steal the blue diamond necklace that Mr. Wellmen has locked in his 4 layer safe room.”

“How does he plan on getting in?”

“Well, I’ve made the connections with the Wellmen’s so it won’t be odd for me to make plans to have dinner with the family to remove them from the home. After that, I believe he plans on sneaking in through some security holes and doing his magic once inside.”

“So basically, I’m on my own to figure that out once the family is gone.”

I nod. “You’re going in after him?”

“That’s the plan.” He stands, reaching behind him to grab a shoulder holster and starts to loop his arms through it. 

“What will you do if you find him?”

“As you said, miss. Help him realize who he is.”

—----

Tim shows up at the Wellmen estate, parking his car several blocks down and walking the rest of the way. He stays hidden, keeping an eye on the time. He sees the front gates open, a fancy car driving out, gates closing behind it. Another glance at his watch tells him that’s the Wellmen’s on their way to meet you for dinner at the restaurant. 

Tim had pulled the city plans for the estate from his contact in City Hall, finding the hole that The Thief had no doubt found as well. He made his way to the crack in the perimeter, sneaking inside. There were a few guards, but nothing he couldn’t slip past. Once he was inside, he paused, taking in the room and thankful that he’d memorized the blueprints. 

Suddenly, he sees a dark shape move at the end of the hall, going the same direction as the safe room. Tim crouches, following with enough distance so as not to disturb The Thief, but close enough to see him steal the jewel. They continue this cat and mouse game down the hall and down another flight of stairs before the room arrives. Tim has to admit, he’s impressed by The Thief, managing to keep to the shadows this entire time - no easy feat.

Several minutes pass since he’d seen the shadow slip inside the room, but nothing came out. He knew there was only one way in and out of the room. Maybe The Thief had run into some trouble? This would make his job of catching him even easier. 

Tim quietly made his way to the safe room door, checking his gun was ready and loaded before gently pushing open the door a crack. Hearing nothing, he pushes open the door, pointing his gun around the room as he scans it for The Thief. 

To his surprise, the room is empty. No people, and, glancing in the glass case in front of him, no jewel. But how? He had seen The Thief enter the room and not exit, no other way in or out. No secret doors would have been possible with this layout. So where was The Thief? Where was the jewel?

The door opened behind him and Tim spun around, aiming his gun at the doorway. His eyes grow wide and he lowers his weapon as he sees you standing there, hands up. 

“Miss? What are you doing here?”

A sad smile is tugging at her lips. “I’m here to support you.”

Tim shakes his head. “You can’t be here. The Thief, he’s here and I don’t know where. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

She takes a step closer to Tim. “I know where he is.”

Tim is nervous now. Had they been playing him all along? Good thing he left notice with his contact should anything happen to him. 

“Where is he then?”

Another step closer. “He’s here.”

Tim glances around quickly before looking back at her. “The only ones here are us. Unless there’s a secret door?” His eyebrows raise in question at her. 

She shakes her head sadly. “No. No secret door.”

“Secret room? Is he waiting for me to leave?”

She’s only a step or 2 away from Tim now. “No. He’s here.”

Tim shakes his head. “But… I don’t-”

She reaches her hand out, gently cupping his cheek. “Mateo, it’s me. You’re here.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Mateo? Who’s Mateo? I-I don’t…” His head starts to hurt a little, like something tugging at the corner of his mind. 

She smiles sadly again, her thumb gently stroking his cheek. “You. You are Mateo, the greatest thief in the world.” 

Tim grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face. “What are you on about?”

“It’s you. You are The Thief.”

His head hurts more, a throbbing starting to build behind his eyes. “You’re crazy.”

“Am I? Did you see anyone come in here?”

“I did! I saw…I saw…” Playing back the memory, Tim realized he’d only seen a shadowy figure, nothing ever clear or concrete. He’d assumed, based on her time schedule and the shadow’s movements, that it was The Thief. 

“I don’t…I’m not…”

“Check your coat pocket.”

Tim looked at her, trying to hide the fear in his eyes as he starts to pad himself down. His fingers bump against a round lump and his eyes grow wide as he fishes out the blue diamond necklace. He holds it up and studies it, his head now pounding and his vision throbbing. 

“I don’t understand…I…what…what is happening?”

She steps forward, gently taking his hand and placing the other on his cheek, turning his head to look at her. 

“You had an accident, baby. When you took the crown from the Goldman’s?”

Tim shakes his head. “I don’t…I…an accident?”

She nods. “Yes, baby. You…you came back a different person. A detective named Tim Rockford, saying it was inevitable, that The Thief would be caught. That he’d finally left behind a clue and it would all come crashing down.”

Tim looks down at the necklace in his hand before looking into her eyes. “I left behind a tool. My favorite lockpick.”

She nods, smiling warmly now. “Yes! Yes, that’s it, baby!”

The more he stares into her eyes, the more he remembers, but it’s hard to think with the pounding in his head, his vision starting to black out. 

“I…I am Mateo?”

“You are. You’re the greatest Thief the world has ever known.”

“And you…you love me?”

Tears fall from her eyes now and he reaches out to wipe them away. She leans into his touch, nodding. “I love you more than anything, Mateo.”

Her eyes are the last thing he remembers before he blacks out.

—----

After I pulled him from the Wellmen estate, I brought him back to our place, watching over him as he slept, worried that the realization that he’d broken would cause him to never wake, that I’d really, truly, lose him forever. 

He was out for 3 days. On the third day, I heard him muttering in his sleep, his fingers twitching before his eyes blinked open, scanning the room. I rush to him, tossing aside the plate of food I’d been nibbling on. 

“Mateo?” I sit next to him on the bed, placing my hand over his and squeezing gently.

He blinks, turning his head slowly and looking at me, a dawning realization washing over him. 

“You are here?”

I feel tears on my cheeks and I furiously wipe at them. “I am. I would never leave you, Mateo.”

His hand reaches out for me and I lean closer, feeling his hand slide around the back of my head, pulling me close to him. His lips meet mine and the damn in me breaks, all of the tears I’ve held back over the last years bubbling to the surface. He pulls back and looks up at me, concern on his face.

“Querida, no crying. I am here. I think. My head still hurts a little.”

I nod, swallowing back more tears.

“What happened, querida?”

I explain that when he’d left behind his lockpick, he’d had a mental break in reality, so convinced he’d be caught that he made up an entirely different personality, a detective named Tim Rockford. He made up an entirely separate life, even going so far as to secure an office space, where he’d sleep on the couch. I had no clue how to help him, so for a while, I’d just follow him, making sure he was ok. Mateo didn’t know how to handle the fear of being caught, which made him more hostile and distrusting towards me. I knew I could’t bring in anyone official, as he’d have gotten arrested immediately and wouldn’t receive any sort of care. I couldn’t let that happen to the man who rescued me from mediocrity, the man who’s greatest achievement was stealing my heart. 

So I came up with a plan to help Rockford catch the world famous Thief. He’d want the glory of catching the uncatchable, and hopefully I could have him face Mateo, realizing that they were the same person. I’d hoped that this would meld him mind back together. 

I had no clue what I was doing, and I knew there was a strong chance I’d fuck him up for life, but I had read some books and I was desperate, having no other choice.

So I set up a heist with the Wellmen’s. It wasn’t difficult to work my way into their circle, as I apparently reminded them so much of their estranged daughter. It was easy to lure them away with the prospect of dinner at a fancy, hard to get into restaurant across town. 

And then I went to Rockford, telling him everything but The Thief’s name, figuring that hearing his true name too early would’ve messed it up, made him not believe me. So I sent Rockford the blueprints of the house and the timeline, hoping he’d go for it. Which he did, even seeing a “shadow” of The Thief moving about the house, his mind completely convinced he was about to catch the greatest Thief of all time. 

When he felt that stone in his pocket, the 2 minds melded back together and his brain needed time to process what was happening. I took him back to our temporary hideout and cared for him while he was out, terrified that he’d never wake up.

When I finished telling him what happened, he sat up, taking my hands in his and kissing the back of them.

“Marry me, querida.”

“I- what?”

“I should’ve asked you that night in your art gallery. I knew I was in trouble when I saw your eyes and instantly fell for you. Once you started talking and I saw you weren’t just another spoiled rich girl, I was done for. I was relieved when you begged to come with me because I was seconds away from begging you myself. And now? After putting you through hell for years, you come up with this plan to not only avoid putting me behind bars, but to save me from myself? I cannot see my life without you, querida.”

“Are you truly back with me?”

He nods, eyes wide like a puppy. “I am here.”

“Oh, Mateo. I’ve been yours since that night too. I never want to leave you.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Oh- yes!”

“Do me a favor and open that drawer and bring me the striped socks.”

“I- ok?” I cross to the dresser, pulling out the balled up socks he’d requested and handed it to him. He opened them up, pulling out a simple ring that I had made comment about loving only a couple months after I had left with him.

“I kept this in case you ever felt the same about me as I did for you.” He holds it up and takes my hand, sliding it on my ring finger. 

I straddle him, kissing him deeply as he holds me to him, finally being able to tell him how I’ve felt after all these years and finding he feels the same for me. 

We marry at the courthouse the next day, just missing the police by a few hours, smiling at each other as we made our way to the next heist.

—----

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[ozarkthedog]

Happy birthday Ozzie, and congratulations on your follower milestone!!! You beautiful bean, I'm so glad this hellsite put us in each others' paths.

📝 For location-based smut prompt, Tim Rockford and dealer's choice of

public -8 inside one muses’s office. OR public 9 - inside a third party’s office they shouldn’t have access to. 

Just need this man to get freaky with me in an office setting is what I'm saying because look at him:

😭 i’m thankful everyday that we’ve gotten so close! here’s my token of gratitude. 😘💙

18+ mdni. Tim Rockford x f!reader. oral sex (fem receiving). public but private setting — office. special guest.

This is so wrong. 

It was bad enough that Tim was your superior and that you'd been sneaking around for the last month, fucking each other whenever he had a few moments of free time, but using a random co-worker's office? That was flat out stupid. 

Tim drops to his knees in the small room, making quick work of your skirt and hooking one of your legs over his leather holster encased shoulder.

He breathes in deep as he presses the lower half of his jaw against your panty clad mound. "Been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day." He holds your weary gaze as he slots the thin material to the side and latches his lips around your clit.

Your fingers card through his hair, tugging just so to make him groan into your slick heat. His tongue dances along your slit, dipping between your folds, earning him soft hisses and mewls from your gasping lips.

This is sure to blow up in your faces, but as Tim slides two thick fingers into your dripping core and rubs expertly against your slick walls, you couldn't care less.

"Shit- you're fuckin' soaked." Tim groans as your velvet walls mold to the shape of his girthy digits.

Your spine bows against the corkboard nailed to the wall; it's pinned with a precise diary of information: crime scene photos, newspaper clippings, and various stake-out notes. The small plastic tac heads dig into your skin as Tim sucks your clit into his mouth and vibrates the little button with a deep groan.

Your chest heaves under your blouse as the pleasure steadily mounts. Your hips move on their own, grinding against Tim's stubble and tongue. Brute hands circle your hips, keeping you safe and balanced as your peak draws closer.

He leans back on his heels and stares up at you. His cheeks are flushed a desert pink, and his lips glisten under the dim light as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come on my tongue. Wanna taste you." Tim husks before diving back into your cunt with a feral energy you'd only come to know since being with him.

Your eyes flutter closed as the pleasure envelopes you, drowning all your senses. Had your eyes been open, you would've seen the shadowy figure slink through the door just as you were starting to come.

A heavy wave of arousal coats Tim's tongue as he pushes it further into your drenched hole. He grunts at your taste, greedily drinking you down and licking every creamy drop from your swollen cunt as you bite back the wanton moans that threaten to slip from your lips. 

Tremors rake your body as you catch your breath and come back into your body. The foreign, bitter smell of smoke perks your senses. Your heart slams into your throat as a red ember glows from a dark corner of the room. 

"You put on quite a show, Gatita." A deep voice praises from the black abyss. 

Tim moves lightning fast, spinning on the spot and shielding your body from the unknown figure.

Javier Pena steps into the light. Your co-worker and whose office you now had the pleasure of corrupting. 

He stalks toward his desk with a glint in his eye, pinning you and Tim to the floor as he retrieves a folder that's left on top of a mess of papers.

The men exchange silent words while Javier takes a long drag from his cigarette. Tim relaxes, his broad shoulders slightly sagging once he realizes the threat is neutralized. Javier smirked at your wide eyes while he exhaled a lungful of smoke toward the ceiling.

"You should lock the door next time," Javier suggests as he moves to leave. He hesitates, hand perched on the shiny, brass knob before looking over his shoulder. "Unless you're looking for a third person to join." 

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

[gracie7209]

Yay!!!! Another character to obsess over lol

Detective Tim Rockford Headcanons

Listen, I don’t know how we got here either, but if I said I was surprised, it’d be a lie.

Don’t look at me. 

@the-blind-assassin-12​ @haylzcyon​ and @stealyourblorbos​ encouraged the HELL out of this, and I thank them endlessly. 

Almost 3k of headcanons about less than two minutes of a character under the cut. 

Keep reading

[trulybetty]

october x 500 | masterlist

for the month of october I've set myself a challenge to write 500 words a day, and me being me thought why don't I do some prompts? because you know, I haven't got enough going on. but the reality is I wanted something that wasn't tied to anything currently a WIP so I could just focus on getting out of the state of mind of 'this has to be the perfect finished version on the first go' and embrace just writing and seeing what happens. are any of these going to be any good? probably not. will many of them make sense? not at all. will they mostly be marcus pike? very likely. will I hope to have fun and stick to something for 31 days straight? hopefully.

prompts list used.

oct' x 01 - ruffled hair (joel x gn!reader)

oct' x 02 - apple scent (chiffon!dieter x bryony)

oct’ x 03 - full of colours (tim rockford x f!reader)

oct' x 04 - walks in the forest (strings!joel x reader)

oct' x 05 - autumnal (dieter x gn!reader)

oct' x 06 - falling leaves (gold rush!joel x charlotte)

oct' x 07 - chestnuts (chiffon!dieter x bryony)

oct' x 08 - umbrellas (will miller x gn!reader)

oct' x 09 - ravens (maverick!frankie x reader)

oct' x 10 - oktoberfest (sequins!joel x reader)

oct' x 11 - pumpkin spice (marcus x reader)

oct' x 12 - cornfields (sequins!joel x f!reader)

oct' x 13 - black cat (tim rockford x gn!reader)

oct' x 14 - spooky (dieter x gn!reader)

oct' x 15 - first wine (sequins!joel x reader)

oct' x 16 - flying kites (frankie x reader)

oct' x 17 - whispers (chiffon!dieter x bryony)

oct' x 18 - picking apples (sequins!joel x reader)

oct' x 19 - ghosts (dieter x f!reader)

oct' x 20 - sweater weather (chiffon!dieter x bryony)

oct' x 21 - acorns (tim rockford x f!reader)

oct' x 22 - pile of leaves (frankie x gn!reader)

oct' x 23 - harvest (gold rush!joel x charlotte)

oct' x 24 - fog (tim rockford x f!reader)

oct' x 25 - jack-o-lanterns (marcus pike x reader)

oct' x 26 - campfire (frankie x reader)

oct' x 27 - witches (sequins!joel x f!reader)

oct' x 28 - samhain (tim rockford x gn!reader)

oct' x 29 - stormy days (sequins!joel x f!reader)

oct' x 30 - seance (tim rockford x reader)

oct' x 30 - seance (chiffon!dieter x ofc!bryony)

oct' x 31 - trick or treat (marcus pike x reader)

[galaxyedging]

Tim Rockford x f!reader

Warnings: Smut. Anal sex. Sex work. Blow job.

WC:1.9

The rain battered the old windows of the loft. The wind howled past. The weather had turned around midday. You noticed it somewhere in between finishing up a paper and preparing for his arrival. As it got heavier, you wondered if it would put him off coming. It was doubtful. He was old school, made of sterner stuff. It would take more than a little rain to keep him from an appointment he'd made with you. 

From the conversation you'd had with him, he needed this appointment. Another one of his cases was driving him insane. The answers were just out of his reach and it was maddening. He told you to prepare yourself for him. When you'd ask him specifically how, he just told you for anything. Usually, there was a specific thing he wanted. There was a plan. The man was nothing if not methodical.

Laying in the bed in the middle of the open plan loft, body as ready as it could be, you let the excitement of the mystery burn under your skin. Is this what it felt like for him to solve a case? The mystery, the intrigue? Waiting for the pay off? Glazing at the clock to see that he was late, you recognised his frustration in the things that he wants being just out of reach. 

The minutes ticked by, five minutes turned to half an hour. Half an hour laying naked on your bed, aroused and prepped for him, wondering what he would do to you. The memories of your previous appointments dancing through your head. His hands on your body. His tongue roaming your skin. The scratch of his moustache against your most intimate parts. Your hand moved of its own accord. Two fingers slid inside you with no resistance. A flex of them brushed up against where you needed him to be. His name came out in a moan. As if he was summoned, your buzzer rang. 

As if you'd be caught in a compromising position, you pulled your fingers out quickly. Slightly panicked you pressed the button to let him before returning to the bed to make your presentable for him. He was just a client. He shouldn't have this effect on you. You shouldn't put off changing your sheets after his head was thrown back into your pillow as you rode him, just to have his scent linger just a little longer.

The door opened, his wary footsteps entered, then it closed behind him. A small draft made its way through with him, causing a shiver up your spine. The shiver grew as you watched him getting ready. He shrugged off his dripping rain mac. He hung it up like he was in his own home. Next, he removed his shoes and socks before placing them on the mat inside the door. His badge was then placed on the side. He undid the buttons of his shirt cuffs to roll up his sleeves. When he finally moved to the bed to acknowledge you, he was only wearing his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms. His black slacks, ironed with a perfect crease down the front, and his holster. The holster than fit snuggly to either side of his broad chest and gave you all sorts of wicked ideas.

As he approached you legs had been crossed at your ankles. 

"Spread them for me." He tapped your foot. 

A low gasp left him as you spread your legs wide. He could see you were dripping for him and the jewel between your cheeks showed that you had thoroughly prepared yourself for him. 

"Good girl. All ready for me. Now come and get me ready." He rasped, undoing the button and zip of his slacks. Leaving them open enough for you to see the outline of his erection through his tight boxer briefs. He stood perfectly still, allowing you the illusion of control. Pulling he underwear down you released his thick cock from its confines. The sharp intake of breath at the contact was followed by the release of his restraint. He'd allowed you a brief moment of control, now it would be all his again. He couldn't control what went on out there. He couldn't instantly summon all the answers. Or control the justice system once he found them. In here, he could control you. You would let him willingly. He work all his frustrations out on your beautiful body. He could grip your pump, soft flesh, hold you in place to take his pleasure and you would still ask for more. You gave him everything that he paid for. It was simple. No mystery. No puzzle to unravel. He paid you to use your body and you happily let him. His cock twitched in your hand at the thought of it.

His large hands gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

"Beautiful girl." He breathed looking at you with those warm brown eyes. 

This was as much gentleness as he afforded you. It was the calm before the storm. 

"Put your lips on my dick." He hands gripped your hair tighter guiding you to his throbbing length. 

That sinful deep voice grew even deeper as the warmth of your mouth took him in. "Fuck. Just like that." His hands just gently positioned you at first. His utterances of 'fuck' and the sound of his length sliding over your spit slick lips filled the air. They were soon joined with your choking as he held your head in place to ram his cock into your throat. 

"Oh shit. Good girl. Taking it so well. Fuck, take my cum too. Take it, ta…" his groan reverberated in your own chest as he spilled his warm release down your throat. He shuddered as you swallowed around him.

When he finally pulled out, you lay back to catch your breath. "I'm not paying you to lay down." A sting bloomed across your chest as he swotted your right breast. He roughly massaged it away before leaning down to seal his hot mouth over your nipple. A harsh suck sent a fresh wave of arousal gushing between your legs. Another one proved too much as you instinctively pushed at his face, only for him to grab your hand. Lifting his head off you he brought your hand to his face. His eyebrow arched as he sniffed it before sinking two of your fingers into his mouth. 

"You touched yourself." There was no question in his tone.

"I…" you began.

"I asked you to prepare yourself, to get yourself nice and wet so I don't have to waste my time doing it. So I can just come in and wet my cock." His hand wrapped around your jaw pinching slightly at you cheeks. "But this is all mine." He drew his fingers through your slick. "Every drop is mine to taste. You greedy little whore. You couldn't even wait for me…"

"You were late…" it came out before you could stop it.

The world spun as he forced you down face first on the bed. An odd moment of comfort came from the softness and the fresh scent of the sheets. It was lost as he dragged you to the bottom of the bed by your hips. 

"Show me what you were doing." He tugged your ass up into the air. When you didn't move fast enough, he cracked his palm against your ass cheek.

Steadily yourself, you managed to slip those two fingers back inside. 

"So desperate to be filled, hmm?" His fingers trailed down your spine until he reached the butt plug. A gentle pull and it came away, your muscles clenched, searching for it. It was quickly replaced by the head of his cock. Your muscles eagerly accepted him. He stretched you so slowly and fully you completely forgot about your own movements.

"I didn't say your could fucking stop." He drew his hips back, slamming inside you. The suddenness of it made you whine. The stretch of him coupled with the pleasure was near debilitating. Heeding his warning you picked up your movements again. The man could take you apart with the same precision as he picked apart a case. It didn't take long for you to feel your climax coming.

"Don't you dare…" he warned as he felt your walls tightening. 

"Please." Your voice shuddered out with the force of each thrust. Thrusts that stopped for a moment as he shifted behind you. 

Something slipped over your head, when it came to rest against your bare neck you felt it was some sort of strap. Self preservation made panic flare inside you. 

"It's just to keep you in line. You act like a bitch, I'll put you on a leash. Now, don't you dare come." He tugged the strap around your neck just enough to apply pressure.

He resumed pounding into you. "Keep going." He reminded you to keep working your fingers in and out of you. There was no way you could keep it up with the way he was fucking you roughly.

"I can't…I can't." The strap tightening around your neck drew your back flush to his chest. His thrusts slowed to a grind as he wrenched your hand out from between your legs. Pulling it up to his lips, he sunk your fingers into the heat of his mouth. His tongue rolled around your digits while his fingers rolled around your clit. His other hand joined in, spreading you so he could strum your clit faster. The 'leash' that he'd been holding dropped onto your chest. He used that damn shoulder holster. As he forced you closer to coming he began to pump himself inside you. Once you collapse near boneless, he fucked you into the mattress and filled your ass until he dripped out of you. 

"Fuck. Do you like being full of me?" He growled as he slowly pumped the last of his release deep into you.

"I love it. I love…" you were interrupted by Tim groaning as he spread your cheeks to see what he had done to you.

"Of course you do." He finally started to strip out of his clothes. Before he took off his slacks he fished his wallet out and placed a couple of hundred dollar bills on the nightstand.

"You need to throw another hundred on there." You sighed as you stretched out.

"Another hundred?!" His eyebrows shot to his hairline.

"Cumming in my ass cost extra." You shot at him.

"You loved it." He laughed dropping on the bed next to you.

"It doesn't matter. You still have to pay."

"How I am going to explain that to my wife?"

"Tell her that you gave it to a struggling student to treat herself with."

"That might actually work. She's a student herself."

"Really? What does she study?"

"I have no idea. She's so sexy, I get distracted sometimes when she talks." He climbed onto the bed next to you, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder.

"Really? Did you get distracted when she told you you need to help her clear the attic out next weekend?"

"I must have."

"You heard 'Rent an Airbnb for the weekend so we can fulfil your sex worker fantasy' well enough."

"Every word, Honey."

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass

[letsgobarbs]

Part III: The Hero Of My Books

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader

Summary: Convinced your husband doesn’t want you, you turned to Jack for some help. The situation unravels and all secrets come to light.

Rating: Explicit

Content Warning: YOU 🫵 consider cheating on Tim. But you don't at the end. Maybe it's just a little bit of cheating if you squint. Jack is nothing but a plot device here. creepy neighbour alert. Reader has anxiety. voyeurism. mentions of divorce. classism from an unimportant side character. toxic family situations for all. both Reader and Tim are a bit fruity if you squint. arranged marriage. p in v sex. oral f!receiving. loss of virginity. there is an age gap, but even i don't know what it is, go with what you will.

Author’s Note: I was so deep in the Merge Mansion lore for this one. Found out Maddie’s grandpa was a spy of something which made me think of Jack. So, this entire thing turned out way different than what I thought it was going to be. I'm fairly new to both writing and Tumblr so reblogs and comments are always appreciated. This fic exists in my ao3 as well, but this version is just very very slightly edited. Not even slightly, it’s just re-read and adjusted.

divider by @saradika-graphics

Part I, Part II

It had felt good to say it. No matter how this concludes, it felt liberating to confess. You tried your best to tamp down the little seedling of hope that still sprouted into expectation, “You don't need to say anything, I'm not expecting anything from you.”

You had been a coward, hiding your fears behind the books, and the writing slump, and the lack of sex, and the affair. You had been terrified of not being loved back because you had thought it was a weakness. Your weakness. It had only taken for your husband to think you were cheating for you to realise that, even unrequited, loving him was never a weakness. It was something you were good at. It was your craft, your skill, your art form. You would have never tainted it by cheating. After all, you had celebrated your art form one cheesy, smutty book at a time. The only reason you hadn't been writing well lately was because the distance with Tim had made you too antsy.

And it didn't matter if Tim loved you back. Sort of like it didn't matter whether you were playing singles or doubles if you only cared about playing some tennis. Love was your Olympic sport and you were a gold medalist.

“I love you too.”

Well, that changed everything.

“I can't believe you thought I didn't love you.” Tim came to stand in the doorway of your kitchen, even under the overly warm, ugly kitchen overhead light, you looked divine.

“I was trying to…”—you took a shaky breath—“make a move or something. And, it felt like you were pulling away. You did pull away. And I thought it was your way of letting me know you didn't see me like that.” Tim had moved close enough for you to see his dark eyes behind their black frames. It frazzled you to be so close to him again.

Tim felt his fingers twitch with intent and a faint tingling feel. God, tingles. He’d thought the sparks were only supposed to happen once you actually touched the other person, but here you were, setting him ablaze with that glazed, wondrous look in your eyes. You wanted him. Loved him. His hand came up to gently caress your face, his knuckles softly brushing over your cheekbones to your chin. Sparks. Tim couldn't grasp or hold you without this damn current making its way up his arm and doing his poor heart in.

“I'm sorry”—he unfurled his fingers over your cheek, tips grazing the soft skin under your ears, to gently hold your face—“for being a damn coward. Thought you wouldn't want anything with an old man like me”

“I’ve never wanted anything else. Or anything more.”

Tim angled his lips over yours barely grazing each other, his eyes met yours in a silent challenge. Then kiss me. And you did. You pulled him to you with a hand between his shoulder blades, gently sucking his lower lip to slot between yours. You could do this forever. Tim felt his knees buckle when you traced the tip of your tongue over his upper lip skimming over the bristles of his moustache. He leaned forward to brace himself against the counter behind you, trapping you in between, pressing you closer into his body while his tongue scraped against the smooth underside of your tongue. You broke the kiss with a gasp at the sudden sensation.

A pang of anxiety coursed through you, but it had no place under Tim’s adoring eyes. You incredulously soaked in the moment, tracing your fingers up his spine to entangle the hair curling at his nape. Your other hand rested over his rapidly thudding heart, feeling your own start to dance to his rhythm. The world slowly floated around you, correcting course and tilting on its axis until all your pieces snugly settled with him. Tim’s arm came around your waist as he nudged your cupped face back to his lips in another slow and sensual dance.

Tim rid you of your clothes, forming a trail as he guided you towards the bedroom with affectionate pecks and playful nibbles. Suddenly, he was everywhere, desperate hands palming and stroking your soft skin and mapping the features of your body. Tim charted his hand up the back of your thigh, thumb stretching out to graze the curve of your underbutt as he pressed feverish kisses down your neck. His cotton shirt felt delicious against your exposed nipples. He untucked his shirt as he took teasing nips at your clavicle breathing in the scent of your skin and body wash.

Both of your hands halted his movements, “Stop. I want to watch.”

You sat at the foot of the bed, the movement drawing your attention to the slick that had gathered between your legs. You would've worried about staining the sheets had Tim not taken off his shirt. You watched as he folded it in half before draping it over the dresser. You wanted to tease him about being shy now when he had just flung his fogged glasses across the living room earlier. But it was difficult to come up with words when you were admiring his side profile and the light scattering off his beautiful curls. You took in his furrowed brows as he unclasped his watch, his gracefully sculpted nose, his ruggedly patchy beard, and the freckles that dotted his shoulders and arms. It was unfair how lovely he looked.

“Look at me.”

Tim turned to face you with a quizzically raised brow, noting the command in your voice and the delightful shiver it sent down his back— filing away the moment to explore another day. Tim discarded his undershirt, and you appreciated the muscle in his throat that jutted out to form that hollow notch at its base, the smattering of salt and pepper chest hair that led to the soft swell of his stomach with the wispy trail that disappeared into his trousers.

He had never spent much time thinking about his body, but now he was tempted to peek in the mirror to see what had you so captivated. Tim leaned on a leg, an arm resting on his hip with his other leg stretched out before him to adjust himself, deliberately pausing to slowly palm his dick and stroke it through his pants. He slowly unbuttoned his pants but pulled his boxers down along with his pants, impatiently his mind went to more pleasurable and entertaining things he could be doing as he watched you lean back on the bed.

While Tim was downright pretty, the size and girth of it were intimidating. Realistically, you knew you could take it, but you were always a little scared of pain.

“Are we sure that’s gonna fit?”

Tim couldn't help but break into a little grin as he ran the back of his hand up your inner thigh finding it smeared with arousal.

“That's adorable, we’ll make it fit, baby.”

He joined you on the bed with more kisses as you both awkwardly shuffled upwards. Once you were propped up against the headboard, Tim’s mouth latched onto a nipple while a hand gently cupped the other; his wedding band felt cold against your heated skin making you arch into his mouth.

“Relax… touch your pussy for me. Make yourself feel good.” He whispered into your cleavage.

You rubbed tight circles around your clit mirroring Tim’s tongue as it swirled around your areolas, pausing to flick or suck your hardened nipple— he then gently bit down as he pinched and tugged the other unexpectedly hurtling you off the edge with a gasp.

Tim urgently kissed into your opened mouth, “Please, plea—” his voice broke into a lower octave—“please let me taste you.” He had spread your legs and plunged his head between your thighs before you had finished nodding.

Tim looked ravenous as he took in the sight of your folds, slick and wet. He lapped at the shiny inside of your thigh, savouring his first taste of you with an inadvertent moan. He took his time to graze his teeth against your skin, sucking in little marks into the crease of your pelvis, building his anticipation until you urged him with a roll of your hips.

Tim swept his tongue in a single long lick upwards, parting the lips covering your oozing slit and exposing the clit under your hood. You clutched at his hair and were rewarded with Tim moaning into the tip of your clit. He took his time exploring, guided by the sweet noises you made for him until you were nothing more than a pulsating, throbbing ball of aching need and nerves. You knew Tim was whispering praise into your cunt, but you were so far gone into the haze of pleasure that they went unheard. You didn't even realise when he had pressed two of his fingers down into your vagina while nuzzling your clit. He turned his hand palm-up causing his fingers to graze a spot inside you that hardened your body into a knot before you unravelled under his tongue.

You came to with colours still dancing underneath your eyelids, and your body still shivering in the aftermath of the violent tremble in your limbs. Tim was still pressing sweet kisses above your clit and around your most sensitive nerves soothingly rubbing his palms over your hip only for each stroke to form warm currents and more shivers under your skin.

“You think you can let me up now?” Your legs had wrapped around him to keep him there while you rode out the tremors of your orgasm on his face. It was tempting to just keep him there with your legs straining to frame the broad expanse of his shoulders while he sported his cheeky grin and glazed eyes. But when you reached out to thumb at his dimple you found his facial hair wet and the sudden urge to taste yourself on him gained Tim his freedom. He came up with a mischievous attempt to bite your hand that had been caressing his face.

On Tim’s lips, you were more scent than taste, musky and sweet mixed with the cool mint of his gum. You reared back.

“Did you have gum in your mouth while you went down on me? Because that would be psychotic.”

Tim huffed a warm laugh into your neck, “I don't know, do you wanna spend some more time looking for it in my mouth? You can even pat me down while you're at it.”

“Oh, detective, thank you for complying, we’re just following a process.” There was a teasing lilt to your voice. You sighed into his kiss while Tim rested the weight of him on you. You reached for his cock that lay between you, pressing heavy and warm on your stomach demanding attention.

“Not that procedure, not yet, wait. Just give me a minute. I've made a mess of myself.” Tim had given into the impulse of humping the sheets like he was a teenager again and was a hair-trigger from bursting. The gentle and chaste kisses did very little to stave off the urgent wave building at his spine when your hands were roaming over his back pausing to experimentally squeeze his ass. Naughty minx. But it allowed him enough reprieve to spread your thighs wider, draping them over his own before positioning his cock over your slit. His cockhead gave gentle taps to your clit that sent quivers down your spine. Just as you thought he would be pushing into you, Tim only lazily swayed back and forth gently rubbing his cock over the most throbbing part of you while you desperately clenched onto emptiness.

“The suspense is killing me, please just put it in me.” Your voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“You’re tensing up on me, honey.” Tim flipped, carrying you over him in his arms.

“Take it the way you like it.”

You notched the tip of him against your slit, sliding down onto him. The heady rush of him stretching you out had your head rolling back, arching your tits back into his waiting palms. You teared up in frustration at a stabbing ache when you could not take more despite pushing yourself down, desperately wanting to be further filled. There was an itch that would be left so unsatisfied if he did not reach deeper into you, you felt so empty and blocked at the same time.

Tim found the little nub between your legs again insistently working it while spreading his fingers to cup the core of you that sheathed him halfway coaxing it to take him in. He guided you into a soft swivel with a warm, rough hand on your hips.

“Good girl.” Your pussy convulsed around him before easing down on him in a single swift motion that had the both of you gasping at the electric sensation.

“You take me so well, pretty girl.” Tim was content to let you find your rhythm. A warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight of you enjoying his cock, milking him for your pleasure as you looked down at him with darkened misty eyes.

“Should've done this way sooner. This pretty little cunt is made for me, isn't it?”

The yes’s poured out of you like a prayer, “Tim, it feels so good, please, please, please—” You were so so close, it just seemed as if the release was running away from you, you could cry. It was even more frustrating that Tim wouldn't do anything to help.

“Oh sweetheart, having some trouble are we?” You were vexed, he was enjoying your predicament. A smirk on his lips as you desperately tried to word your pleas to him. Irritated, you finally reached your hand between your legs where you were still frantically undulating over him.

“Tsk, I didn't say you could touch yourself. You're going to cum for me, do you understand?” Tim grasped your hand and encaged it with his own holding it over his abdomen even as you still struggled to reach your clit. His hips bucked up into you at the retaliatory scratch you gave him.

“Yes, please, Tim, just please, touch me, please make me cum.”

“I need you to say my name when you come, okay, Darling? Say my name, baby.” He seemed to have lost all his previous gentility with the quick pinch and tug he gave to your already hot and sensitive clit. You reeled off him as you came but Tim pulled you back down his cock anchoring you into him. You had been chanting his name before you went off the edge, but the orgasm had rushed up on you so fast that you were sure you had stopped breathing for a while, your cries still felt trapped in your throat. Or maybe it was Tim’s cock you felt all the way up into the back of your throat.

He was sitting up with you, still buried hot and hard inside your fluttering cunt. Tim rubbed little circles and patterns into your skin, sending jolts of pleasure to course through you.

“You didn't cum… I'm sorry, just let me—”

“Shh, Shh don't be sorry baby. I'm the one who should be sorry. You’re going to let me cum inside aren't you.” You knew he was asking, but his tone left no doubt that he would spill inside you. He had nothing to be sorry for, you wanted so desperately to feel his hot cum coating your walls. You wondered if he felt the involuntary spasm your pussy gave in a desperate attempt to keep him inside.

“Oh you liked that, didn't you? You're gonna be a sweet girl for me, won't you, babe? Let me use that tight little pussy to get off?”—Tim tightened his grip on your hips—“Be a doll and hold onto my shoulders okay?”

You weren't answering any of his rhetorical questions when he was bouncing you on his cock with quick sharp tugs.

“God, wanted to be a good, kind husband who didn't use his wife too hard on her first time. But this cunt is a trap isn't it, baby? I could live inside you for ages”

You did need to hold onto his shoulders after all. If the thought of Tim using you as nothing more than a cocksleeve to jerk off his cock wasn't hot enough, your previous orgasm hadn't entirely rolled out before another one hit. This time, you did scream his name. You also left scratches over his shoulder, biting into his neck to silence yourself.

The bite of pain finally sent Tim over the edge, as he grasped you further into him. For a moment, neither of you knew where he ended and you began. He could do nothing more than fall back into the pillows taking you down with him. He couldn't even muster up the strength to pull out, not that he wanted to. Tim stopped your devious fingers from teasing his nipples, opting to tip your chin up for kisses instead— craving an affection that didn't further stimulate the jolts of pleasure he was still feeling at the base of his spine.

You could feel Tim softening inside of you, sending a pang of distress to pierce through the fog of bliss at the thought of losing that physical connection to him. Your frizzled brain kick-started to interrupt the peacefully comfortable post-orgasmic haven with your husband.

“Could you hold me tighter?” Tim must've picked up the vulnerability in your voice because both his arms came around you to hold you in a tighter embrace. Your mind struggled to come up with words to fill the silence. It would be completely fucked to ask Tim if this meant they were together now. He did say he loves you but you didn't want to pressure him, maybe it was just sex. You were already married so what if he didn't mean it? But Tim was never one to say things he didn't mean.

You felt Tim trailing soft kisses on your forehead as he whispered, “You’re thinking too loud.”

“I still can’t believe you thought I didn't love you.”

“Well, you didn't seem attracted to me…”

Tim heaved a disbelieving sigh, rolling his eyes at you as he gave a sharp spank, “Oh, I'm attracted to you, alright.” He rubbed your ass to soothe the sting.

“Did you think I was just platonically cuddling with you on our couch watching shitty reality tv—”

“Hey, you enjoy shitty reality tv.”

“—Or that I’m just being friendly when I try to cook your Chinese order at home, you know I live off of takeout!”

Okay, maybe you have been a little stupid. Tim has scoured the internet and attempted so many recipes for your favourite Chinese dishes because the local Chinese restaurant always made your stomach upset. The next closest restaurant was a long drive away from Hopewell Bay. He had even driven you there when you needed your Chinese takeout fix.

“I'm still working on that Szechuan sauce by the way, I promise I almost have it, it’s good but it's not takeout quality yet.” Both of you knew it wasn't remotely going to be as satisfying as a takeout.

There was a niggling itch at the back of your mind, a reminder that you were forgetting something very important. You tried to shrug it off, if it was important it would come back to you, as you settled into smooching Tim again.

“Oh my God, Jack!”

“So do not want to hear another man’s name while you're kissing me.”

“I have something to confess…” Suddenly, you were terrified that Tim would change his mind about you. “I have been watching Jack have sex, I know it's totally weird and I thought I had a good reason— which it was not. But like I'm sorry, I know that's cheating because we're married. And oh my god I cheated on you. Like technically we weren't together together before tonight but I would've been upset if you did something like this for a job—”

“I know.”

“—Like I couldn't blame you obviously because we didn't even know that we liked each other but still.”—Your rambling came to an abrupt stop—“What do you mean you know?”

Tim pulled you down to lay next to him again, as he propped himself on an elbow to look down at you. His fingers gently tucked the strays of your hair behind your ear, thumb reaching out to wipe away the anxious tears you unwittingly shed.

“I felt bad for cancelling on you all the time…” His fingers fiddled with the lobes of your ears, coming down to caress your jaw, “Remember that one time you wanted to go to a shooting range? I said I'd go, but then I talked myself out of it at the last minute and cancelled on you—”

“Yeah, you said you had too much paperwork.”

“—Well, I felt horrible because you would've been alone there and I never wanted you to feel alone so I showed up anyway. And I saw Jack walking up to you and I was glad you were with a friend.”

“So you left?” He'd come all the way there and had turned around and walked away anyway?

“Yes, I know… But then that guy was everywhere with you. Thought you’d made a choice.” Tim shrugged off his comment but it didn't ease the ache that remained when he thought you had chosen Jack.

“So, I may or may not have followed him whenever you made plans to meet him.”

You tried, and failed, to suppress the giddy smile that spread across your face.

“You just, what? Stood there in the shadows somewhere, watching me watch Jack have sex?” Both of you burst into giggles at the scenario.

“My favourite was when he was with Jackie”—Tim couldn't help but laugh through his words—“and I saw you pull out this tiny pocket notepad like you were a critic taking notes. I don't even know how he performed under all that pressure.”

“Well, I probably didn't want to forget what I'd just come up with. Did you know he's helped me write out a mini-series of cowboy romances? Surprisingly good at coming up with angst.”

“That notepad was mine by the way, I’m gonna need it back can't investigate a crime scene without it.”

“Oh, yes, of course, did you want me to leave in the sexy notes I took or…?”

“Leave those in please, you never know. It's how we found Jack had some of the answers to the case. He’s all over the place, he slept with Jackie who had some scoop about the Boulton case, Isabel who worked on the Boulton mansion as an architect, Victoria who wants to buy the estate, and—”

You didn't know why Tim was obsessed with Maddie’s grandma and her case.

“Jack said he knew Maddie’s grandpa Charlie from when they were both working for that alcohol company—”

“Statesman.”

“—yup, something about Charlie being his mentor and friend.”

You burrowed into Tim’s chest feeling the vibration when he hmm’ed at your words, and pressed your lips to his warm skin. You hadn't imagined the evening would play out like this but you sighed in contentment as Tim ran his hands along your back, appreciating the soft planes and hills of your body before his hand came up to cup the back of your head and aligned your lips with his.

“I need to get into these books of yours, figure out how to star in one of them.” You chased his lips with a whine as Tim left you needing more.

“Please don't, it's embarrassing. If it helps, I do write about you.”

“Yeah?” Tim slotted a leg between the both of yours leaving you dazed at the feeling of his thigh pressing against your pussy. You gave an experimental grind of your hips, moaning at the exquisite feel.

“You’ll find”— You broke into a gasp when your clit found the patch of coarse hair on his thigh, adjusting yourself to rub the rest of your pussy across it—“You’ll find all my heroes take after you, Tim.”

He groaned, unsure of whether it was due to your words or because of the mess you were making on his leg. Perhaps both. He felt himself hardening again.

“Detective, will you please let me suck your cock?”

“Depends, be a good girl and get yourself off on my thigh baby, then I’ll teach you how to suck my cock the way I like it.”

Tim was tender yet strong, he could share laughs with you but also leave you breathless with his intensity. Sometimes, all he needed was a light touch to make you fall apart for him. And at times he would hold you together so tight in his arms, as if he had anchored your soul to his. It was no wonder he was the hero of all your books.