#the thief casillero del diablo

[ladamedusoif]

Plus ça change, etc.

The only coronations I will ever recognise.

[nicolethered]

Pedro Pascal as The Thief for Casillero del Diablo

[pedro-pedrito-pascalito]

You like this? The saxon crown. I like to wear it around the house sometimes.

[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.

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❤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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[ghostofaboy]

Closer

Pairing: The Thief/Tim Rockford Rating: Explicit Word count: 1130

Warnings: Anal sex, mentions of oral sex, rimming and handjobs,

Summary: The Thief thinks he has a plan for Tim, but all that changes.

Note: This is a sequel to one of my Kinktober 2023 pieces for Fancy Dress.

The Thief grinned down at Tim from his seat on the other man’s cock. Below him, Tim panted, squeezing the Thief’s thighs tightly as he pinched his eyes shut. He was close, the Thief could tell, and while he would never get tired of watching Tim come, the Thief had other plans.

Holding himself as still as possible, the Thief patiently waited for Tim to reopen his eyes. Slowly, Tim’s large brown eyes opened, looking up at the Thief questioningly. His brow creased as Tim gradually caught his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all, dearest.” The Thief leaned forward to plant a kiss on Tim’s forehead. “I’m just admiring the view.”

A playful smile appeared slowly on Tim’s lips as he regarded his lover. They hadn’t been together all too long, and Tim was still learning the other man’s quirks and nuances. Although together might be too strong a word, the Thief thought as he gave an exaggerated stretch before grinning back down at Tim. After all, since they had met, they had only ever met up for sex. While there was conversation afterward, it was casual and light, never touching on anything personal. Then there was the fact that they didn’t even know the other’s name.

Although that wasn’t entirely true. The Thief knew full well who Tim was, after all that had been what drew him to the detective all those months ago at a costume party. A fumbled hand job in the cloak room had led to a night of passion and embarrassed goodbyes the next morning from Tim, who was clearly new to the idea of having a casual lover. So the Thief had needed to arrange for them to ‘bump’ into each other a few more times. 

First at a movie theater where Tim had blown the Thief in the restrooms. His lips stretched around the Thief’s cock as he bobbed his head along the shaft. Each of them trying to be as quiet as possible in the stall as the Thief had bucked into Tim’s mouth. To his credit, the stoic detective had swallowed every last drop.

Then it had been a flat tire, that just so happened to be exactly where the Thief knew Tim was investigating a case. That the painting Tim was looking for was already hung on the Thief’s wall was a total coincidence. That chance meeting had led to an ever so grateful Thief rimming Tim before getting fingered and fucked on the police officer’s couch. Perhaps it had been in that moment, with his legs hitched up on Tim’s shoulders, that the Thief had abandoned his plan to scuttle Tim’s investigation of him. It might have been when Tim flooded the Thief’s ass with his seed and moaned so deeply that the Thief felt it in his chest that the first embers of true feelings emerged and started to burn. 

The final meeting that had led conclusively to where they were right now had been at another formal event. Both wearing dashing tuxedos, the Thief had found Tim bored out of his mind chatting to some of the well-to-do of the city. Mirroring how they had first met, the Thief had swooped in to rescue a very overwhelmed looking Tim and was thanked properly in a side room by being bent over a gorgeous Victorian mahogany desk. As Tim pounded into him, the Thief decided that this might be the closest to love he’d ever gotten.

Tim’s hands running up his naked torso snapped the Thief back to the present and with another gentle kiss on Tim’s forehead, he resumed rolling his hips to ride his lover’s cock. Tim hummed his appreciation, leaning forward to kiss, lick and suck on the Thief’s sensitive nipples as both men gradually edged closer to their finish.

It didn’t take too long for Tim to come. He always came first. And with a low, rumbling groan, the Thief felt Tim empty himself into him. The Thief wasn’t far behind, with Tim bucking up into him and a gentle hand on his cock, he tumbled over into the abyss, covering himself and Tim in thick sticky white ropes. 

Resting his head against Tim’s, the Thief pinched his eyes shut as he rode the euphoria, feeling the large warm arms of the detective wrap around him protectively, pulling him even closer. He could feel their breath merging as they both gasped, breathless from the exertion. 

“I… I…” Tim’s voice sounded gentle and hesitant, and the Thief slowly opened his eyes to find the other man looking up at him with large, soft brown eyes. “Fuck. That was…”

“I know.” The Thief smiled warmly, peppering Tim’s face with kisses. “Isn’t it always?”

“Yes.” There was something in Tim’s voice that paused the Thief, with his lips hovering over Tim’s cheek. “But… I’m not sure I can keep doing this.”

As though suddenly aware of his nakedness, the Thief felt cold. Leaning back to look into Tim’s eyes, he still saw all the affection he had become accustomed to mixed with something else… doubt.

“May I ask why?” The Thief tried to keep his voice steady and tender, not wanting to acknowledge the growing panic rising in him. “I thought we were getting along rather well.”

“We do, we are.” Tim gazed up at him as his hands idly stroked up and down the Thief’s sides. “It’s just… what is this? To you, I mean? Am I a casual fuck buddy? Something more? I mean, shit, I don’t even know your name.”

“In the beginning, this was more casual, perhaps.” The Thief let out a long sigh. “But no, I can’t say that’s what this is anymore. You are very important to me. I… I adore you.”

“Adore?” Tim smiled, but there was still a wariness in his expression. “Ok, that’s good, for now.”

“For now?” The Thief smiled, easing himself off of Tim’s cock and onto the seat beside him. “Would you like more?”

“In time.” Tim thought for a moment. “Yes, in time, I think so. But for now, I’d just like a little more.”

“All right.” 

“Will you tell me your name?” Tim reached out and stroked the Thief’s cheek before cupping his face in his large hand. “I’m Tim. Tim Rockford. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I-”

“It’s ok.” Tim soothed, pulling the Thief into a full embrace. “What do I call you? Will you tell me please?”

The Thief swallowed hard as he stared into the large, kind eyes of his lover. All his careful planning and meticulous schemes evaporating before him. As the panic of the unknown began to rise up and flood his body, the Thief took in a shaking breath.

“Yes, I’ll tell you my name.”

[firsttarotreader]

“The Thief” - 9 of Pentacles

The next character in our series “Pedro’s Characters as Tarot Cards” is the unnamed Thief from the Casillero del Diablo commercial. The Thief represents the 9 of Pentacles.

9 of Pentacles is the card of achievement, success, independence, wealth and security, and enjoying the results of one’s work. A person with this card’s energy is someone who is wealthy and prosperous, self-sufficient, and enjoys the finer things in life. They have worked hard to achieve a level of comfort and luxury and they are able to live it to its fullest. With an aura of comfort and luxury, high-quality clothes and a taste for finer things, they are stylish, sophisticated and elegant. Well-groomed, confident in their independence, they take pleasure in their possessions and achievements, and their demeanor is one of contentment and pride of what they have accomplished.

The Thief is a character we meet as he presents himself in a monologue, speaking of someone who walks into a room and everyone admires them for their wealth, wonders how they got it, where their shoes and watch are from, wants to have them or be them. But the Thief is not like that, he is the Greatest Thief in The World, he wears the saxon crown he stole around the house, he explains it all started with his love of art until he realized theft was his art. He flaunts his fine possessions, the many works of art, the artifacts and necklaces, “anything that shined”, showing how content and prideful he is of his achievements and his taste for the finer things. He is independent and successful, he enjoys what he’s got and even calls his skill a “form of magic”. The Thief also invites fellow thieves to a fancy dinner at his fine mansion to enjoy some comfortable and luxurious leisure time. He is confident he can steal anything he wants, although there’s one thing he wouldn’t steal, because who would steal from the Devil? For these reasons, he is our 9 of Pentacles.

[rise-my-angel]

By Fate of The Night

Pairing: The Thief x Female Reader

Length: 8.6k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, implied memory loss, smut, slight exhibitionism, p in v

Notes: How a wine commercial got me so down bad, I have no idea.

When you wandered away from the extravagance of the party, you did not know. Opulence seemed to not suit how severely under dressed you were for such an event. Glitz and glamour unbecoming of the discount sale dress and cheap makeup you worked so hard to be able to afford, when the other attendee’s wore silks and satins that spanned for miles and makeup that painted them as previous dolls.

Your friend sending you a text not long ago, just a crying face when you asked them where they were. A quick understanding that no doubt they found someone to head home with forgetting that they had dragged you to this manor in the first place just to avoid being alone. The crowds, discussions of matters you had no interest with and glasses of champagne being turned down from each waiter kind enough to wander to the corner you hid yourself in. It had become too much, and so you walked.

As far from the noise until just silence overcame you, it led you down twisting hallways that increased in darkness yet filled with unique clutter. The ballroom large and lacking of much to look at, the rest of this place felt on the air of cozy with things. Statues, grand paintings that scattered the walls with no sense of style, just displayed as the owner so wished. Glass cases featuring old, weathered artifacts that many minutes were spent trying to determine. Not at all noticing that you had strayed so deep into the building that a dark figure came upon you from the shadow until their breath hit your neck.

“It’s called a Votive Plaque. Considered to be over four thousand years old,” Looking behind you with a silent gasp, a tall man leaned over your shoulder with a squint. From what you could see, his hands were clasped behind his back, glints of gold shimmering from the coat on his shoulders but little else was noticeable. Glancing back, you looked at the stone carving in question. “There was no inscription on the back, likely meaning it was engraved on the walls of a shrine or temple.”

Nodding, you had little to say as he did not move from so close beside you. You hummed, and yet he tilted his head as if you said any words to react too. What felt like one of his hands nudging you by your lower back his other arm outstretched you further into the hall. “There’s far more than stones and plaques to see, hermosa.”

Taking a step forward, you finally could glance to his face. Coarse facial hair around his jaw, and a moustache that sat neatly beneath a fine aquiline nose that framed the other soft, handsome features. As well as deep, dark eyes with colour indistinguishable in the dim light. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you shook off the sudden feeling of desire that such a stranger shouldn’t elicit. “I really shouldn’t, I-”

“Have a party full of people who are too busy preening at their own reflections to notice you?” He stood rather still, shoulders relaxed and a hand still on your lower back. Which you failed to realize was not making you uncomfortable. Your head moved back in surprise, and the stranger chuckled warm and deeply. “A lost little lamb such as yourself belongs amongst treasures such as this. Not with people only interested in impressing their wallets. Come,” He pushed you forward. “You haven’t even gotten to the hall of missing treasures.”

Trying to protest, your heart raced but yet, you didn’t struggle against such a gentle touch. “But the owner-”

Once again, the stranger seemed to put your mind at ease with barley any effort. Just a soft smile towards you. “Didn’t want any random people walking through his home, but you are no stranger are you?”

What he meant by that you didn’t know, nor did you know how you ended up pressed up against a bookcase of rare books. Both of his hands gently holding your wrists above your head, as his nose trailed down your neck. Not quite pressing his lips to the skin, but teasing with his breathe. Your heart raced, how many hours had you been walking this place?

Why did listening to this stranger tell you about items and artifacts that you thought impossible to own warm something in your chest and twist at your lungs? Each time his hand brushed your skin it shivered in need that you never had with people such as this. His voice rasped as his hands let your wrists stay, and his fingers trail down your arms where the long sleeves of your dress had fallen. “Are you finally ready?”

Voice high pitched and bordering on a moan, “For what?”

Another chuckle as his hands now ran down your sides. Thumbs tracing just under your breasts you stiffened in his hold, but the willingness you let his knee slip between your legs spoke differently. The long material bunching under it’s pressure and pushing against your core as he trailed up to your ear, his lips brushing against it. “To tell me what you desire. That’s all I ask, hermosa. Just tell me what it is you want, and it’s yours. Forever.

But that didn’t happen. The clock struck, and through the dark study he brought you in, chimed. Not startlingly loud, but enough that it had you jump. His hands how gently holding your hips. As he pressed a single, light kiss to the skin under your ear. One last rasp in it’s depths which you did not understand.

“Venus of Willdendorf.”

This party was not what you wanted to do with your night. Little plans were in the works, but it did not include wandering the small laid out area guests were permitted too looking for your friend. Your choice of flats in lieu of heels made you feel short and belonging amongst the classically dressed women who looked at you in judgment.

You looked for a long time to find shoes that would look nice, and it didn’t feel worth it at all. You may as well have shown up with normal running shoes and you’d stick out just as much. But, your friend had begged you to come. Their date fell through and going to a place like this alone likely intimidated them as much as being here alone did you. So you folded.

Now though, you lost track of them when you searched for the washroom only to come back to a ballroom of people you didn’t know. Pressed now up against a wall in the corner, a waiter occasionally walked over to you, tray in hand and a knowing smile flashing sympathy as you turned down their offer of champagne.

Waiting for any kind of response, your eyes stayed glued to your phone at the notification they did indeed read you asking where they went. Finally, a simple crying face popped up and that was all you needed. So they found someone to go home with, and left you in a manor that you didn’t even know the address too.

The sheer embarrassment you were going to face, asking one of the waiters where you were just to know what to say when you called a cab. You watched the flock of people impress themselves with their opulence before it annoyed you. Boasts of their accomplishments and money they earned that quarter did little to impress you, and you suspected it was only spoken hoping to one up their own conversational companions, or to impress the elusive owner throwing the party. Who had yet to make their presence known.

Your attention for a while was on the stain glass windows high on the walls. It was difficult to see in the night sky behind them, but you suspected there were many a details that would shine like the heavens in the morning light. Why did it burn your insides with curiosity what it would look like?

As if moving on their own, your feet took you into the hallways. Wandering the corridors that emptied of people the further you got, but filled with clutter of items that intrigued you. Painting’s littered the walls with no sense of style, just displayed with pride that they were indeed there. Glass displays littering about with unique items that looked too good to be real, and statues that graced above you, some decorated with jewellery that no doubt cost more then your own life.

Near a stairwell twisting both directions, was a display case on a dark marble pedestal. A small square glass case which protected the figure inside. In what looked like stone, was a woman with large proportions but no discernible facial features that made it look perfectly human. Without any indication of what you were looking at, you leaned in with a squint. Trying to remember if you’d seem pictures of something like this before.

Jumping back with a quiet gasp, a deep voice reverberated so close to your ear, and the presence of a tall, broad figure partially behind you leaned over your shoulder. “There’s actually almost two hundred of these exact statues that have been found throughout the world.” Turning to look at the stranger, from what you could see, his hands were clasped behind his back, glints of gold shimmering from the coat on his shoulders but little else was noticeable. Glancing back, you looked at the stone carving in question. “This one is around thirty thousand years old, not quite young enough to be considered a Venus but that’s what they called them anyways.”

Nodding, you had little to say as he did not move from so close beside you. You hummed, and yet he tilted his head as if you said any words to react too. What felt like one of his hands nudging you by your lower back his other arm outstretched you further into the hall. “There’s far more than small figurines to be seen, hermosa.”

Back pressed against a shelf of rare books, he enticed you with a knee pressed between your legs and his hand trailing down your raised arms. The clock against a distant wall chimed, and the stranger muttered something you didn’t understand into your ear. “Nebra Sky Disk.”

Your eyes stuck on the disk, surprised by it’s size, you figured it would be small, handheld. Yet no, it was larger then your head, and so were the images dotted onto it. Contemplating if taking a photo would be inappropriate, you wanted to compare the sights of where the stars laid in the sky then and how it compared to them now.

Before the idea took much more image, the soft sound of a shoe clicking against the tile perked your ears up. Turning around in place, you seem to have caught the man off guard despite him being the one sneaking up on you. He was tall, broad frame draped in a long coat glittering with a gold woven into the black material. Hard to see in the dim light, but you could see a moustache, scatterings of facial hair and a dark glint in their eyes.

One which in any other circumstance would have frightened you, and yet? You found your mouth moving before they could come any closer. “How did you get something like this?”

His eyebrow quirked up, the sides of his mouth moving in surprise. “Why assume I know?”

As if it was common knowledge, you shrugged turning back to look at the disk. “You’re the owner, right? I figured you’d know where your own artifacts come from.” Heart skipping a beat you whipped around once more, yet he had not moved. “I’m sorry that was incredibly rude, I have no idea where that came from.”

The chuckle was deep and warmed your blood. Stepping closer he looked at the disk over your shoulder. “Would you believe me if I said I just found it?” Turning with him, he stood taller then you moreso then before. Not overly, but enough that for whatever reason, made his size send a shiver down your spine. “How did you know I’m the owner?”

Pausing, you scoured your mind and came up relatively blank. “I- don’t know..” He hadn’t been with the rest of the party, you weren’t even in this crowd but you felt as if you already knew who he was to some extent “Just a feeling, I guess.”

“You come across feelings like that very often, hermosa?”

You decided you liked the sound of his voice. The deepness felt like it vibrated through your chest down into your heart, settling it down to a simmered panic rather then explode of anxiety of being caught wandering. Flushing a bit at the name, you kept your eyes off him. “Every now and again.” Your hands wrung in front of you for a moment, “I can leave if you want, I know this is supposed to be off limits.”

He chuckled again. “Not at all. Lost little lambs need to find their way home eventually.”

What that meant you didn’t know, nor did you understand why it felt like you’ve heard that phrase before. Regardless, you felt him press a hand into your lower back. Muscles ready to move down the hall for whatever reason, yet he didn’t. Just stood by your side looking at the disk before speaking. “What do you know about it?”

Biting your lip in thought, you knew your explanation wasn’t prestige. “Not as much as you, I’m guessing. I know it’s a map of the stars, with Pleiades there.” Pointing to the cluster of stars before trailing over to the crescent moon. “Some kind of lunar calendar for the time, most of the stars have moved at this point but if it was used back then, the sky was a lot clearer. Kind of like a map of early astronomy.”

Smiling down at you, the stranger sounded oddly proud. “Where’d you learn that?”

His smile turned into a grin as your shoulders sank in on themselves. “A children’s show. Half the episode was about the disk, the other was some lost city but I always loved the stars so, guess that’s why it stuck out.”

Was it your imagination that you felt his thumb moving gracefully back and forth? You dared not turn or question him to find out, his touch was soothing. “Nothing wrong with that. You don’t have to learn from high scholars to be well read. Hell, most of them aren’t even as smart as they assume. I learned more about the world collecting stuff like this, then I ever did in their books.”

It was quiet between you both, and once more, you were shocked at such bravery. “Would it be okay to look at more?” Sparing a glance up, your wide eyes contrasted his narrowed brows. Eyes still dark, but you think you could guess they were of a deep brown. “With the owners accompaniment of course.”

His soft features beamed with a full smile, a dimple pronounced in one cheek that had you trying hard to hold back a small smile of your own. Pushing you forward, an arm outstretched to the hall further. “Normally I’d lead the tour, but you seem to have an idea what you’d like to look at.”

For a good while, you both walked slowly through his halls. Rich history sat everywhere, but never did he guide you one way or the other. You walked to whatever caught your eye, and he followed suit. A content look as he listened to you gush about the artifacts you knew all about, an excitement that he owned them.

Others had mentioned the man owned many rare collections, and speculated the grand wealth to accumulate them. But such a thought never crossed your mind, not once did you even question how he got them or what it cost. You were gleeful to see the things you recognized, and came upon them with something akin to a familiarity. As if you knew they were there, when clearly, you didn’t.

The stranger never shared his name, nor did you save for the unknown word he seemed to prefer to call you by. Normally, you wouldn’t dare leave yourself so alone with a large, unknown man whose proximity was close and intimately warm. He was safe though, how you knew that? You didn’t, and logically you knew it was stupid to assume the unknown, and yet? You were deep into his manor by the time you came across a balcony.

Doors open with the night wind flowing the sheer curtains in the air, beckoning you. Goosebumps erupting on your skin at the coolness of the night, hands both resting down on the railing. The sky bright and clear, moonlight shining on the water in the distance. A deep blue casting from it’s depths to the scene around it. Shining with beauty as if the home itself build on such a luscious property.

Judging by the slight ache in your feet, the pair of you had been wandering for a few hours. He stood beside you, mimicking your own position. Back stood tall, and his eyes, definitely brown, stood out beautifully as well as the profile of such a strong aquiline nose had against the rest of him. You should be looking at the sight, but his sight was more alluring. “Can I ask you something.” He only nodded, but you felt fair to continue. “Why throw a party if you want nothing to do with it? I mean you haven’t been there all night, so why have one in the first place?”

A feeling brewed inside of you, as if you knew what his answer would be. “Some people host parties to meet people, but others are just hoping the single right one turns up.”

Voice but a whisper, you looked away with a growing bashfulness. “And who would that be?”

He didn’t answer, but you heard his voice speak to you anyways. The nickname of a lost little lamb, and the sensation of his chest pressing up against your back as he caged you in his arms hands either side of your own. But that’s not how you were standing.

No, you were side by side, nowhere near close enough to touch the other in such a manner. Glancing up to the moon nearing the middle of the night sky, he smiled to himself. “Tell me, hermosa. What exactly is your greatest-”

“Desire.” Your voice muttered in it’s own breathless shock. Why did you know what he was going to say exactly? Why did you have an answer that you hadn’t thought of in so long? The stranger turned to face you, one hand on the railing as the other hung by his side as he looked inquisitively at you. “I just wanted to be seen.”

Why did you phrase it like that? What was happening inside of you? There was something that wasn’t right, and yet it didn’t scare you the way it should have. It was as if around you, the night was completely different. Clouds covered the stars and rain fell from them, taking no care as to how soaked through it made your dress. One not at all like the dress you were wearing now.

The stranger didn’t feel as familiar, but the comforting warmth, promise of desire remained the same as you stood in two different worlds. One of memory, and one of confusion. Quickly looking up almost to make sure you were in this world not the other, indeed he was the same.

Same long coat, broad chest underneath the rich shirt on his torso that led down to a softer stomach which you saw yourself gently running your fingers over. Before his larger ones picked them up in place, bringing to his lips before moving them on his own to dig into his waistband. Watching with bated breath as you pulled them down.

The darkness in his eyes lurked yours, trying to find something you didn’t know. But these thoughts you had about him were anything but appropriate and it made your skin run hot at the phantom sensations of his skin. A rippling of familiarity that raced through your very veins as nothing else was said as somewhere deeper in the manor, a clock struck.

You didn’t know why you abandoned your friend. Watching them waltz around the ballroom trying to fit in with such people of high society as you floundered. They were in the middle of a chat with someone, leaning in enticingly close when you walked off.

Unlike you to simply abandon someone so abruptly, but it felt like the winds called you elsewhere. A feeling in your mind pinged inside each time you contemplated stopping to look at the vast artifacts the mysterious owner seemed to have collected.

Many of which you would have otherwise yearned to stop and look at for far too long, but your feet moved of their own accord until the turn of a hallway came about. The blue tint of the night seeped into the lightness corridor, two large glass doors open with curtains pulled back and flowing.

A tall figure stood leaning against the railing, the gold of their coat shining in the moonlight and draped down their broad back. The images of gently coming up behind them, palms pressed flat as you felt their shoulders sink. Your dress was all wrong, you had short sleeves in your minds eye not long ones. It pricked you like a thorn trying to piece this dual memory in your mind together as you walked towards the figure.

Your shoes gentle, but tapping against the decorative tiles no doubt giving your position away. Heart racing as you looked at the tousled brown curls sat beautifully across his head. Somehow, you knew his brown eyes were just as gorgeous before he even came into view.

Skin shivering at the coolness of the outside air, you gently rested your palms on the railing beside where he stood. His spread wide as his brow narrowed in thought, yours almost wrung together in front of you with eyes wide and in need of answers to questions you didn’t remember asking.

Your mouth asked before your brain could catch up. “How many times have I been here?”

A gentle smile falling across his lips, he just tilted his head in jest. “Would knowing make you feel better or just more confused?” Pushing off he turned to face you, one of his hands now resting over top yours keeping them warm and in place. His eyes looked right through yours. “Because I assure you, hermosa it’s more then just your imagination. But to answer your question, this is the second time you’ve sought me out no the other way around.”

His free hand reaching to your collarbone, taking the chain of your necklace into his fingers and trailing downward to where you wouldn’t think you’d just let someone touch. Rough fingertips tracing the tops of your breasts underneath the fabric of your dress before grasping the bright blue stone that sat there.

Your heart raced, taking much of your resolve not to let it show in your chest how hard you were really breathing. Leaning in close you couldn’t take your eyes off his face. Features soft, yet sharp in expression which begged you to gently run your hand over the coarse facial hair covering his cheek.

Resisting the urge, you wanted to understand what it was you were feeling more. “I’ll rephrase. How many times have we repeated this exact night? Because I feel like it’s been tomorrow’s been a long way off for a while now.”

His soft smirk morphing into a proper grin, the stranger ran his thumb down your breast barley missing your nipple. “Does it truly matter as long as we’re together?”

A burning floating in your veins, you snatched his hand holding it off of you without keeping him away from your body much further. Your lungs tightening at how undisturbed by the action he was. “What if I just leave?”

His other hand raised, now taking yours into his and pressing your joined hands against his chest. The movement pulling you in close, whatever cologne he had worn mixed with something that deep in your heart, knew was the comforting scent of home. His voice as warm and deep, “We’ll end up right back in this very position. I’d rather not wait until then though, it’s taken a long time to finally get you here.”

You could see it, the artifacts, the displays, each long winded explanation of each passing item until there was nothing left to explore but the pair of you before the clock struck. And now you’re here, the same night. Over and over with no end in sight, but somehow he seems to know what’s happened.

Sucking in a shaky breath, you were grateful his grip was lose enough to allow you to face the night scene once more. His hand never letting go of yours, but now standing behind you caging you in with the other braced against the railing. Many moment’s passed before you found your bravery to whisper once more. “How much longer we start over?”

His nose nudging against your hair, the feeling of hips lips brushing your temple as he did so. “Hours. You found me early this time. Usually I have to go looking for you.” Without consulting your conscious mind, you leaned back into his chest, both your grips on the others hands relaxing allowing him to trail down and wrap it more around your stomach. His head sinking into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply as your own eyes fluttered shut.

Doing this before wasn’t something you knew, but it felt as such. An intimacy not known between strangers. Moments passed, just letting the cool breeze float across your skin and his warm breathe on your neck as he kept you pressed against him. “How do we break it? I need to remember, right?”

Not answering for a moment, he seemed to be contemplating how to phrase it. Something you recall being a regular occurrence. Finding simple ways to explain the dark, intricate knowledge his head was full of to explain to you. You liked information, but he preferred you with gentle words. Nothing came to mind, but you felt the ache in your heart.

Leaning the side of his head against you, he rasped into your ear. “Only what we did last time. You give in willingly to your desires, and we can wake up tomorrow.”

Like a flash of a movie screen behind your eyes you could see him. A stranger truly on that day more then he was now, nothing but a yearning in your heart for more. Following you through his home, stopping each time to explain the pieces which caught your eye until called back to the party below by your partner.

Shattering the quiet bubble between you and a man you didn’t know the name of. Glancing back, you had waited for him to pull you back into his arms but he only shook his head. Running his fingers over your cheek and down across your bottom lip.

You had been called again, and the man pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. “Your lover awaits, hermosa. But I’ll expect an answer sooner or later. What is it you truly desire?”

The electrifying tingle in your limbs stayed all the way until you got to the front steps outside the manner, and the outstretched hand of a man with nothing but an annoyed furrow in his brow and impatience to follow. Calling your name at your retreating form until it was heard no more.

Just like now, the stranger braced against the railing of this very balcony as you draped your hands tenderly across his back. Moving up on your toes to reach his ear, whispering your desire as the wind picked up and slammed the glass doors shut in the same instance he turned around to capture your lips with his.

Was this truly where you were now, with a man who made no sense yet welcomed you into his heart as he did yours? A dream or perhaps the world outside was the dream and it all forced you to relive this moment. He seemed to know, but wanted you to find the answer on your own.

Turning in his arms, your hands rested against his chest as his own found your hips. His lips looked soft as your phantom memory remembered they felt, leaning in to brush his nose down the length of yours he waited patiently. “You stole me away once, are you supposed to do it again now?”

Brushing against your ear he rasped, “No one steals from a thief like me, I’m just taking back what was rightfully mine.” Finally pressing his lips to your neck you gasped out. Hands rising around his neck and raking through his hair he kissed down your neck holding your front tightly to him.

You didn’t dance downstairs at the party, but this man was guiding a dance you already knew the steps too. Moving away from his hair with a scratch of your nails, he moaned shamelessly into you before sinking his teeth into the mixture.

Just as you recalled, your hands found his waist. Tapping over his belt and undoing it despite the racing of your heart. Chuckling deeply into your neck, he pushed you right up against the railing. The columns too high for risk of falling over, but exposed to the night air that any wandering eye could see how quickly he yanked your long dress up your legs.

Your hands unable to get inside once freeing his belt, the man let go all of the shame that you might still hold onto. Dragging your dress over your head it dropped from his grasp, flying into the wind not even within your sights. Your chest already bare but he kissed down your torso. Skipping your breasts he made his way down the middle. Hands tight at your hips when you squirmed at his lips gentle across your stomach.

Looking up, his eyes were blown wide as much as yours were. His lips starting to swell from the pressure, he yanked down your underwear without so much as asking. He already knew your yes. Even if you didn’t recall it.

Shucking his long coat off as he stood, he turned you around so your naked front faced the scene in front. Anyone leaving the party who glanced up would be unable to miss the sight and you suspected he planned as such. “Tell me, what exactly does such a lost little lamb desire truly?”

One of his hands using his nails to scrape down your skin until he cupped your mound with no kind decorum. His voice rough, scratching and his jaw clenched. “Tell me, I may not be as patient if we need to do this all over again.”

Leaning into his touch, head on his shoulders you reached back to wrap an arm around his neck trying to meet his eyes. “Just you.”

He muttered something under his breath, a language that sounded anything but earthly before he gripped the front of your neck with his free hand and pulled your lips to his. No ease as you remembered the first time.

Many of the same nights must have passed if he was at this level of desperation. Your heart brought you to him, bare in the night’s wind as two of his fingers press against your clit, teasing with light pressure until you shivered in his touch.

His tongue traced your lips and with an impatient bite, slid inside your mouth as you gasped. Overtaking whatever control you may have thought you had, he traced over your tongue trying to coax you into exploring him the same. Tentatively, you kissed back the same but with far less confidence and more trepidation.

Regardless, as his fingers slid down to run along your slit, he gathered the wetness he found and smirked into your mouth before pulling back. A trace of saliva attached to you both as your mouth stayed partially open as he gave one more kiss and then tucked his head into your shoulder to look down at his hands.

Soaked fingers trailed back up to rub much more tightly at your clit you jumped in his arms with a soft moan. Your hands both now reaching behind to rake through his hair, making your chest arch out and giving way to his free hands greed.

It felt as if whispers of his swam inside your head despite not hearing them leave his actual mouth, quiet soothing of praise and temptation as if his connection to you had burrowed deep. There was little you found you could even say, what would you ask for at this point he knew what you wanted and he stripped you on his own balcony to deliver.

Finding a rasping voice, he found his own words to spit aloud. “You let me do this to you last time too, you know?” Putting more pressure as he rubbed your clit you felt your limbs tightening in need. “Let everyone see you gave yourself to me, showed that pathetic lover what you deserved. And here you are, letting me steal you away all over again and you can’t even remember why.”

What of your life was between these moments? Who were you really outside the manor walls, who was he to you in your soul and why did the night have to repeat itself for this reunion to even take place? An entire life surrounded by impossible mystique and yet intimacy denied it’s importance. His fingers not at your clit sunk deep inside you, scraping against a sensitive wall inside of you that had you shake in his arms. Pulling at your nipple in the same instance, you failed to come up with a name, but he smiled into your bare shoulder. He didn’t mind.

Were the sounds of the outdoors not ever present, you would be able to hear how wet you had become and how slickly two of his thick fingers slid in and out of you. His breathing growing heavy and his jaw clenching trying to pull himself together at how snug you were around him. It had been too long.

His teeth found their way to your neck, no longer playing soft games. Now he bit down close to breaking the skin, and soothed it with a kiss only to move barley an inch downward to leave his mark as much as he could, leaving the sting of his teeth radiating on you. His fingers sinking deep inside to the knuckle and pulling out almost completely before repeating rougher each time.

Your heart was on fire, spreading the warmth out into your bloodstream and making your head fuzzy with a pleasure that you wanted to consume you. Was it just his touch, or should it always feel such an overwhelming way? One of your hands grasped at his forearm, his white sleeves pushed up enough to give you something to dig your nails into.

You moaned as he hissed from the scratch but it only made him work faster. Bring you closer to the edge and throw you over it just to hear those gasping breaths from you trying to keep quiet. The last time this occurred, you weren’t.

Feeling a coil inside of you twist and tighten it made your muscles seize the closer your orgasm became, and the more he grasped tightly at whatever parts of your body his free hand could touch. Finally choosing to force your throat into his hand, turning you to look back up at him as he felt you clench around his fingers. Pressing a simple kiss to your lips, you felt them move as he spoke. “Cum for me, hermosa. I want to take you into tomorrow with my cock.”

White noise took your ears as your orgasm snapped and flooded out like a river. Arching into his touch he kept you pressed against him tightly and the hand on your throat while not getting tighter, did not leave you one bit. Crying out into the night he swore heavily under his breath at the high pitched noises that left you breathless to come down from.

You felt warm and weak in his arms as the aftershocks of his fingers pulling out of you sparked final times. His thumb not quite willing to leave your clit, he wanted you on edge. That ever present need to be taken was what he desired until his touch grew too far away to keep.

Pulling his hand up, he took the slow time to force you to watch him sink both fingers into his mouth and suck them clean of what you gave him. His hand falling to pull your bottom lip open with his thumb before sinking them deep into your mouth.

His nostrils flared and you felt his cock twitch as he pressed his hips into your ass. Letting one hand free, he shoved his hand between your bodies as much as he could manage to undo his belt. The clank of metal echoing like a drum, the sound of the zipper the ringing in your ears. “Please,”

Humming into your hair you felt his cock now bare against you, pressed down the middle of your ass as his hands now soothed over your body lightly. Gentle caresses to take you down from how hard you were panting.

Looking up at the night sky, all you could see or feel was him. His voice. His everything it consumed you like it did that very first night. “What do you want?”

Feeling his mouth curl into a smile he pressed a kiss there and many more as he made a path to your cheek for one last one. Your heads slightly leaned against one another as you felt him slide his cock between your legs. Legs which seemed to have spread on their own, or did so himself while you were too wrapped up in hos his fingers felt inside of you.

The tip tapping at your clit made you jump, but his only free hand traced it’s thumb over your stomach with a gentle shush. His other ran his cock between your legs, pressing up into your entrance. Soaking his length and teasing you. But he never pushed inside, just back and forth as he smiled at you. “Aren’t I supposed to ask you that?”

Glancing to your side as much as you could, you nuzzled into his cheek. “You already did, but no one’s ever asked you.” Watching his eyes shade dark, the warm brown returned with a softness behind them which felt unbecoming of how risque you must have looked. But he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours and pressing a kiss in it’s absence. “Let me give you what you want.”

One hand of each intertwined with the other, letting it rest gently on your chest as he murmured something deep and unintelligible into your lips. Pushing his cock inside, he filled you with one slide as he pushed past how tight you felt without him, but you were so soaked you coated his cock enough to get in.

Moaning loud into the night, his own deeper one mixed with a groan. He throbbed inside of you, making his teeth grit in a hiss as you clenched around him. He was large, larger then you think your body remembered, but you craved the burn he was giving you. Kissing your neck, he slowly moved his hips into yours. A slow thrust that wouldn’t get either of you anywhere but his own moan exposed how delirious it made him.

You could see yourself here again, only then he had nothing on and now you were bare against most of his clothes. His thrusts much more desperate and frenzied then. Flashes of you against this very railing, the wall of books in his study, the grand bed of silky sheets that called to you on lonely nights.

Not once did he let you recover that night, gasping for air as he pounded into you. Hand tight in your hair and words spitting and hissing from his mouth as he lost himself inside of you just as much as you fell into the clouds. Not quite anger, but displeased that you thought anyone could satisfy you, do right by you, treat you like a good girl gets treated who wasn’t him.

You hadn’t known then how long he had watched you, but you know now that it’s something he did much of. Even without telling you, there was something far in the recesses of your subconscious which spoke of a truth you couldn’t comprehend.

Or maybe, as he fucked you, you just didn’t care. His touch was tender, and his moans softly matched your own like there was no fire anymore. Just a trailing water just like the one you could see off in the distance. You tried to move your hips to match him, but each time he paused.

Shushing you as he readjusted his hold on your body. “We’ll get there, just let it happen.”

Whining, he smiled at you with a hooded gaze. Watching you lose your breathe despite how slow he thrusted in and out of you. He needed you as much as you desired this, and maybe those two things were one in the same now.

Maybe toying with you instead of pulling you into his arms would have spared reliving the failure over and over again. Watching your confused and hazy mind struggle to connect dots you didn’t know were there. Moving back into your neck it was his favourite spot it seemed.

Leaving gentle kisses to the teeth imprints he so proudly left, and the stinging moved from between your legs to each time the wind hit such marks. It was a good sting though, a pain that had you cling to him more as his cock once again pulled out almost entirely only to slide in deep as possible.

Your insides felt like they scrambled, head in shattered pieces from how much pleasure swam through you with each slide of his cock. You were soaking him more, it was even audible. How wet it was when he pushed back in, each slide punching just a bit harder then the last.

No sounds could be heard but you both, your moans together and his cock thrusting in and out of you covering what should have been sounds of a party. But there was no sound to cover. The first time no doubt was full of keeping you away from shame.

Forcing your sounds out for the guests to hear and refusing to hide the beauty he claimed you willingly gave to him. The party continued as you fucked. This time, the noise faded away the longer it went on.

The quiet slow nature making room for the quiet of the night. A property empty of all people except the two entangled on the balcony. It didn’t make sense, you came from a party, he threw such a party and yet only you both were here. Maybe, it was meant to be that way. Only you.

Little words were spoken as he thrusted inside of you. Just the coiling inside of you once more, only with each faster thrust you felt it wind up and spark through your limbs. Your mind letting go as it let the pleasure flood inside, his own groans muffled by your neck but your hands grasped at each other refusing to let go.

He refused to speed up much more, the slow slide of his cock deep inside you, and the shameless greed at how he wanted more of how wet you sounded when he took his time pushing in. It wasn’t easy when the flashes of how much he treated you like an animal before.

Little could back up such a boasting claim of making their partner unable to walk the next day, but he had the strength, the ability, the power to do so and not tire out himself. Not before you would inevitably. So he felt you clench around him, and your stomach muscles tighten underneath as you cried out trying to keep yourself from falling apart too soon.

If only you could hear him as he does you. One wasn’t good enough. It was just the slow fuck you both needed after all this time. But far more orgasms were gifted for your future, you just didn’t know it yet.

Saying you wouldn’t get away this time was no lie, and how much you begged for him had his lungs tighten. You were seeing more and more. Each twist of pleasure gracing you with a memory and you leaned back into him knowing his strength to hold you regardless. Falling closer and closer to your orgasm, you felt his cock throb.

No longer thrusting proper, just shallow pushes in and out of you as he grinded his hips. Hair resting now against the back of yours he panted and his hands held tighter. He was close and you were closer.

“Please,” He asked what, almost out of breathe to match your airy tone pleading. “Please, let me stay. Let me stay with you this time. Please, please..” He was so thick inside of you it wasn’t fair, his cock dragging you down to his level and keeping you there selfishly. But maybe it was truly fate.

It was fate to be here, bare in his arms, his cock fucking into you and his lips barley able to leave whatever part of your body they reached. Why would this be wrong if it felt like it was meant to be this way? He seemed to agree, the closer you came to your memory, the more he craved as much as you did. “Always, angel. Always, never fucking leaving me again. Never- fuck- never leaving this tight cunt either,”

Crying into the night you felt the coil inside once more snap but this time it raged like wildfire. Your body seizing and tightening around his cock as you begged his true name for mercy that you never wanted granted. He fucked hard by then.

Pounding short thrusts inside of you as he snarled at how tight you were clenching around him. Wrapping his arms around you tight, he punched inside of you through your orgasm until he felt yours split off to join him.

His orgasm having his nails claw into your skin as he pulled you by your throat to kiss. Tongue in your mouth as he spilled his cum inside of you. The warmth of both his mouth and cum filling you from either side making you hold onto him as if you’d be torn away then and there.

But you weren’t. You held to one another as he came inside of you, thick and copious amounts deep in you like was meant to be until you both had the fade of your orgasm slip away into a serene calm. It took even longer for him to pull out, as if you’d forget this at the chime of the clock.

Your hand wrapped behind you to his neck. Curling into the lush hair scattered about, you nuzzled his cheek, his jaw and pulled from his kiss to press much more innocent ones to each place you had gently nudged before. “Right, you’re a kitten. Not a lost little lamb, not anymore.”

Innocent pecks shared, he finally pulled out. Leaving you empty and clenching around nothing to the degree you almost fell forward. Bracing your hands on the railing in heaves of your chest to catch your breathe. His own once more wrapped around you.

His own body now bare, pressed against your form he held you in the dead of the night before tempting you away with a promise of a bath. Which you couldn’t refuse. Such a needlessly large bath much more like a hot spring that you could sink into should you want.

You shouldn’t accept the glass he offered, knowing his drinks were not the kind you should be allowed to have, but then he smiled at you. Joining the hot water filled to the brim with steam and bubbles as he almost spilled his own over the rim of the glass getting settled.

You giggled at him, and finally took a sip of your own. It burned your insides in a way it wouldn’t do to him, but he also burned at you. He held your heart, body, and soul completely and you endured the pain. Sacrificing your opposites and virtues for his temptations.

Tossing water back and forth at each other, you both stopped to take turns washing the other. Running your hands over every inch of his skin, tender and massaging that had his breathe hitch. It had been a long time since such an angelic touch graced him and he could sob it taken away now.

He was more devious. Slipping his fingers down to your clit and forcing another orgasm from you, taunting you for barley being able to hold your drink up while he did so. Laying you out half in the water, half on the tiles his own body pressed down against yours kissing you.

Sliding gently inside, he picked the pace up much faster here then before. The slosh of water barley heard over the pounding slap of his skin, the snarling grit of his teeth as he swore with no more shame and you crying high pitched whines of need begging for salvation through desire.

Not just once, twice did he fuck you right there. Your thighs in pain as he pushed them so far apart you could break, and his cock pounding so roughly into you the sheer force of his hips could leave a bruise as he marked your skin more and more.

Should you be pulled away again, he’d leave marks for them to all see. Maybe they’d cast you out for it, but you belonged here anyways. Your lips on his, your soaking tight cunt made to be filled by him only, be it his fingers or cock, working your shyness up to letting him taste you directly.

Your heart already was here. It’s why you came back to him, fell for such a ruse and fell once more in love with a rotten thief such as himself. Your souls needed the other and he refused to let you disappear without leaving him with you. Painting your walls with his cum over and over, the only way he could express his love.

Your bodies at some point entangled once more in his sheets. Barley stopping to let you breathe, he kissed you throughout and your limbs locked together as his cock did inside you. There was so party, no friend, no normal life to return to like the others. It was a devilish ruse to get you back into his arms, but it worked. And you stayed here in his touch, knowing it was a lie to steal you away again.

Somewhere in the manor, the clock chimed out and your bodies remained where they were.

Souls made of different realms of light and dark, this time they stayed together.

[ezraspiderwick]

The Rockford Twins (prelude)

Summary: Tim and Thomas are twins, and they are exact opposites of each other. One will end up being a detective, the other a thief. Will the detective be able to catch the thief or will the thief manage to get away?

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: discussion of crime, child arrest, a lot of backstory

A/N: Thank you @littlemisspascal for beta reading and encouraging this idea! This all literally exists thanks to you.

MASTERLIST

.

On the rainiest night of the whole year, at precisely one minute before midnight and two months before their due date, the first baby of a set of twins was born. He didn’t cry. Instead, he stared at the midwife with big brown eyes, as if trying to figure out what was happening in this new and curious world. 

His brother followed a measly two minutes after, and unlike the other baby, the second he came out of the womb he was kicking and screaming. It took a whole 15 minutes and three nurses to get him to settle down enough so he could join his brother who was already sleeping in his mother’s arms. And as soon as he did, he squirmed around as if trying to get the whole attention to focus on him.

Looking back one could say that was the start of their rivalry. A rivalry that would follow them as they grew, a rivalry that would make the space between them grow larger and larger each year, a rivalry that would eventually involve the whole world. 

-

As kids, when their mother was asked to describe them, she would always emphasize that they were exact opposites of each other. 

“Day and night,” she would say between laughs unaware that her innocent phrase would be seared into her kids’ minds. Day and night. Light and dark. One was good, and one was bad. They had to be, that’s how opposites work. Now the only question left to answer was which kid was which. 

-

Thomas Jacob Rockford was the picture of a perfect kid. He was calm, he got good grades, and he listened to his elders. At 10 years old he was learning to play both the piano and the violin, knew Spanish well enough to carry a conversation and went to acting classes on the weekends. His parents reminded him every day how proud they were of their firstborn.

And most importantly he stayed out of trouble, but only because he was smart enough to not get caught. The plans he came up with would surprise even the most experienced criminals. And his reputation as a golden child helped too, no one ever suspected he cheated on exams or that stuff on store shelves made its way into his pockets more often than not. And as he grew, his criminal activity did too. There were bigger crimes but still, no one ever suspected a thing. 

No one except his brother that is. 

-

Timon Benjamin Rockford was the trouble child. He got in fights trying to defend either his honor or someone else’s all the time, but neither his parents nor the school ever cared about the reasons. He was always told he should be more like his brother. So little Tim watched every movement Thomas made, trying to figure out what made the other kid so perfect. Instead, he discovered his sibling’s criminal activities.

But of course, his parents never believed him when he ratted him out. There was never any evidence he could use for backup so he was told that he should stop inventing stories like that, attempting to get an innocent person in trouble was a bad thing to do.  

Tim swore he would catch his brother.

-

The opportunity to do so came when they were fourteen. Tim figured that if he asked to go with Thomas on one of his heists. If he knew where it was happening and when, he could tell his parents and they’d have no other choice but to believe him. 

“I want to go with you,” Tim whispered as he entered Thomas’ room. 

“Where?” His brother looked up from the book he was reading. 

“I want to help you commit your next crime.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Timon.” He looked back down to the book.

“Stop playing dumb, of course, you do.” Thomas sighed and placed the book down and walked towards his brother.

“Even if I did, you want no part in this, believe me.” Tim took a deep breath, he had to do this, there was no other way. If he wanted to catch him this was how he did it.

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I want to be like you.” Thomas looked him up and down and something in his gaze softened.

“Okay.”

Two weeks later Thomas told him a time and a place. They were supposed to meet at a museum, one of the backdoors would be open, Tim needed to go inside and then he would be given more instructions by his brother. This was risky, a very risky move, but this was his opportunity to get his brother caught. So he agreed to be there. 

And so his plan was set in motion. He called the police and gave them the details of what was going to go down that night. The officer informed him that a patrol would make its way there.

At 10 pm, Tim made his way into the building through the door that Thomas had promised would be unlocked. Once inside he searched for his brother but couldn’t find him anywhere, what he did find was that one of the paintings was missing. A painting was missing and his brother was nowhere to be found. This was a setup, he never intended to include him in the crime. But if that was so-

The red and blue of the police sirens outside illuminated the whole building. Tim would explain everything to them, this would all get sorted, and everything would be fine. 

But everything wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine when the officers came in, guns drawn at the fourteen-year-old. It wasn’t fine when they cuffed him and took him to the patrol car. It wasn’t fine when the police somehow found his prints all over the museum and the painting stashed in his room. 

His brother had set him up.

An innocent-looking Thomas testified that Tim had told him to go to the museum. He found it to be a weird request but still was going to go because he didn’t want his brother to be alone but he lost track of time while being at a friend’s house and he never made it. The friend, the friend’s parent, the friend’s maid, and everyone confirmed that Thomas Rockford had been at their house at the time of the robbery. He had a tight alibi. 

To the outside world, Thomas was innocent. This was all part of his plan. 

The judge assigned to the case, a gentleman known for his strict rules, took a glance at Tim’s school records which of course were riddled with all the fights he had had and the suspensions that resulted from them. With that and with the robbery, the judge decided that he was a danger to society. Tim was sentenced to three years of juvie.

When goodbyes were said, his parents looked at him disapprovingly. “Perhaps this is exactly what you need, something to set you straight.”

“Mom, dad, I didn’t do it, I swear-”

“Stop it Tim, just stop with all the lies. At least face the consequences of your actions like a man.” His father said while taking his crying mother out of the room. “Let’s go Thomas.”

“I need to say my goodbyes, I’ll be out in a moment,” Thomas replied.

As soon as the two adults left the room, the teens stared at each other, the tension filling the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“You set me up,” Tim hissed at his brother after a few seconds. 

“You set me up first. You were the one who called the police, not me,” Thomas whispered, quiet enough that Tim was barely able to pick it up. If Tim hadn’t been consumed by the anger coursing through his veins he would have been able to hear the pain in his brother’s voice. “If you had just waited, there would have been a fake painting hanging there in the morning, no one would have noticed it.”

“I-” He hadn’t wanted him to get arrested? No, that wasn’t right. Thomas was always playing some kind of game, and this must be part of it.

“I’m sorry Timmy, I am. I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He took a deep breath and blinked the tears away from his eyes. Tim was convinced this was all part of the act for the people looking through the security cameras. “But you need to stop trying to catch me brother. You will never be able to, just stop and save yourself the pain.”

[ladamedusoif]

Reunions (The Thief x F!Museum Professional Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 27

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

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

Pairing: The Thief (Casillero del Diablo) x Museum Professional F!Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Smut; fingering; oral sex (M receiving); PiV sex; a lil bit of praise kink; discussion of ethical theft from museums (yes really); The Thief is a charming gentleman cad; no use of Y/N; no physical description of reader other than that she’s wearing a midnight blue dress; alcohol consumption; strong language

Rating: 18+ MDNI

A/N: Intended as a sequel to My Kiss, Only For You - a reunion for the Thief and our museum professional, as he seeks to explain himself.

The museum is always a hive of activity ahead of the annual Winter Ball, the jewel in its fundraising crown. Doors closed to the public a few hours earlier, and since then the exhibition halls have begun to be transformed by an army of decorating staff and caterers, with flower arrangements, lighting displays, and round dining tables being set up throughout the building. 

You watch the hubbub from the upper galleries that lead to the offices occupied by the curatorial staff and other professionals. A colleague from the ceramics department joins you, cooing over the extravagant setting taking shape below.

“They’ve had more demand than ever, this year,” they whisper. “The stolen ruby story has generated so much publicity for us! And it means the director can really ham it up when asking for donations from the big cheeses.”

You swallow hard but maintain your composure. You still dream about the night of the theft. Sometimes you’re cursing your own stupidity, sometimes you’re trying to shield the ruby from a hooded, faceless figure.

More often than not, though, you’re reliving the sensation of being eaten out on your own desk by a devastatingly handsome, well-dressed man with nimble fingers and a mouth made for sin.

***

Tonight, he has chosen a double-breasted jacket in a claret-coloured velvet, teamed with perfectly-cut, understated black dress pants, a white shirt, and a black bow tie. 

He never fails to congratulate himself on his anonymity: his donations are made under an assumed name or in the name of his charitable trust, and his ability to fade into the background until he wants to be seen means that no one will pick him out of the crowd, recognise him, remember him.

Unless, of course, you’re there.

He always ensures that he excuses himself after the initial drinks reception and before the sit-down dinner - too awkward, too intimate, and he’s almost always seated at a table full of bores. He knows this building like the back of his hand - and knows, too, that the phalanx of additional catering and wait staff means that the back corridors and entrances to the museum will be open and less heavily patrolled. Ever since he pilfered Katarzyna’s Kiss, the security has been amped up - but tonight, he observes with a smile, the attention of the guards is firmly on the display cases and not the myriad ways to navigate this beautiful building.

He climbs the stairs to the hidden gallery that overlooks the main exhibition hall, and takes out his opera glasses to survey the crowd below. He knows the museum staff are unlikely to be seated too near the big cheeses - the directors would never think to put the people who really know their stuff front and centre, after all - so he focuses his attention on the tables around the periphery of the room. 

And there you are.

A dress of midnight-blue velvet, he surmises, accessorised with simple drop pearl earrings. He knew you had taste. Knew it from the minute he first saw you, expertly leading specialist tours around the museum. Understood it when he brought you to dinner, and became so entranced by you that he almost forgot he was planning to steal a priceless ruby. Confirmed it when he made you come with his mouth and tongue across your own desk, savouring the delicious taste of you on his lips. 

His cock twitches at the memory. He pats his upper breast pocket, finds the envelope, and disappears into the darkness again.

***

You wait at the temporary bar for your post-dinner dirty martini, feet starting to ache in your new shoes and eyes watching the clock so you can get out of here as soon as it’s polite to do so. 

“One dirty martini, and a message for you, miss, from the gentleman.”

The bartender pushes your martini in its Nick and Nora glass and a white envelope across the bar. 

“From who?”

“The gentleman, miss. He said you would understand.”

You spin around, about to ask the bartender if they recognise the man in the crowd so that you can speak to him directly, but when you turn back they’re gone.

***

You hide behind a display case of Egyptian canopic jars and sit on the floor, taking a few fortifying sips of the icy-cold martini before you dare to open the envelope.

Chérie, how beautiful you are tonight, dressed in the colour of the night sky! Forgive my unusual method of communication - I did not want to make myself known to the boring mass of guests. 

I have never stopped thinking about you. I hope for a reunion. Say you’ll come, chérie. I wait for you.

Your Gentleman Thief.

The card is printed with an address located on one of the fanciest residential streets in the entire city. 

***

The apartment building is quietly imposing. As you approach the main door, fear strikes you for a moment. This is a thief, after all - a charming one, true, and a handsome one, but still a thief, and one who misled you to get what he wanted. 

And yet.

The doorman looks you up and down and opens the door into the lobby, directing you towards the elegant, wood-panelled doors of the elevators. “Seventh floor, miss. The gentleman will meet you there.”

You look at your reflection in the elevator mirror during the short ride. Presentable. Not bad. Probably crazy.

A ping signals that you’ve arrived, the doors open - and there he is. For a moment, you feel as though the ground is about to collapse beneath you, as those penetrating coffee-brown eyes meet yours once again, and that charming smile spreads across his handsome face.

“Chérie, you came to me,” he says softly, embracing you with a soft kiss to the cheek. “I’m so glad. Come, come - this way.”

***

He guides you to a gorgeous mid-century sofa, seamlessly taking your coat and bag as you move through the palatial apartment, decorated with a perfectly curated selection of artworks and artefacts. 

“A drink, mi amor? I do enjoy playing at mixology, so I can conjure up whatever you desire. A sour? A sidecar? A boulevardier?”

Your mouth is dry, and you realise with a start that you haven’t said a word yet. “A martini. Dirty. Gin.” You swallow drily. “And a glass of water. Please.”

He prepares the drinks, mixing up a sidecar for himself, and settles beside you on the couch. He somehow looks even more appealing than he did the first night he brought you to dinner, his dark red velvet jacket unbuttoned to show off the perfectly-fitted waistband of his black, tailored pants, and his arm draped invitingly over the back of the couch. 

“To art,” he murmurs, holding up his glass in a toast. 

“To art,” you echo.

Silence hangs in the air for a few moments until you turn to face him. “Why am I here?”

He quirks an eyebrow and does a half-smile as he appraises you. “Why do you think you’re here?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t play with me again. Please. I won’t be taken for a fool, not a second time.”

A confused, somewhat sad expression sweeps across his face. “I do not think you are a fool, chérie. Far from it.”

“You tricked me.”

He puts his glass down on the elegant coffee table. “I did. And I am sorry. But I meant what I said - I can’t stop thinking about you, and… I want to explain.”

You glance around the room, taking in the extraordinary wealth on display. “Explain? You’re a thief. You steal. And I don’t know why I’m even sitting here with you.”

“I am a thief,” he concedes, shifting closer to you and reaching for your hand, “but all is not as it seems.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“All this, this fortune - I did not earn it. I inherited it, simply by virtue of being the descendant of exploitative capitalists.”

“So why not give it all up? And why steal?”

He chuckles and looks at you in a manner akin to a naughty schoolboy. “I like nice things, chérie. And so do you, I suspect.”

You cannot stop the flicker of a smile that ghosts across your lips. 

“You haven’t answered my second question.”

He inhales deeply. “I steal according to a moral compass, and the belief that not everything belongs in a museum - especially if it was stolen in order to put it there.”

Your expression is deeply sceptical. “Two thefts don’t make a…well, a right.”

He nods. “I agree, but my theft often leads to repatriation or returning items to their rightful owners or where they belong - which, I believe, is rather better than wanton looting by colonial powers. Don’t you agree?”

He sips his drink and continues. “So, that’s what I do. I have extraordinary wealth and privilege, and all the time in the world to research and plan. And I try to use those resources - and my intellect - for some kind of good.”

You sip your drink and shake your head. Is this some kind of weird cheese dream, brought on by the mini soufflés at the gala?

“Most people just fund a few galleries, you know.”

He chuckles. “I do that, too. But this is so much more fun, don’t you think?”

That fucking voice. His eyes twinkle mischievously and you can feel an ache between your legs. Fuck, he’s sexy.

You shift closer to him and put down your glass, reaching over to brush an errant curl away from his face. “What if you get caught?”

He bites his lip as he looks into your eyes. “Haven’t been caught yet.”

You trail your fingertips across the greying patches of facial hair along his jaw, noticing how his breath hitches at your touch. “And do you often seduce museum staff as part of your, um, work?”

He’s so close now that you can almost feel the brush of his moustache off your upper lip. He shakes his head. “Only you, chérie, and it wasn’t just for the work, I swear. I mean it, I can’t - I cannot stop thinking about you.”

You feel his hand drop to your leg and snake its way under your dress, caressing the soft flesh of your thigh and making you whine with pleasure and anticipation. “What do you think about?”

He shifts you back onto the couch and moves himself into position above you, hands tracing the outline of your body before he shucks off his expensive jacket. “I think about this,” he whispers, kissing your neck and décolletage. “I think about what it would be like to undress you, to have you completely bare, to play with your tits and your pussy as much as you liked, make you come over and over.”

Your hips buck upwards to meet his, and you moan as you realise how hard he is. You pull up the hem of your dress and slip down your panties, watching as his dark eyes widen, before unbuttoning his shirt and turning your attention to undoing his pants.

“And then what do you think about, thief?”

You pull down his boxer briefs and pants and lick your lips at the sight of his cock: hard, thick, a pearl of pre-come already glistening at the tip. You shift your body down a little so that you can easily lift your head and take him into your mouth, making him cry out at the sensation. 

“What do you think about, thief? Tell me.”

You flick your tongue over the head of his cock and take as much of him into your mouth as you can, enjoying how wrecked he looks above you. 

“Think about…fuck, think about this… think about oh, fuck - fucking you, taking you, having you, as much as I want - oh, fuck!”

You release him with a pop, move your body back into position and guide his hand between your legs. “Am I wet for you?”

He groans, eyes dark with lust, and nods, slipping two thick fingers inside you and fucking you with them until you come, back arching and eyes rolling with sheer pleasure. 

“I need to have you, chérie,” he hisses, and you feel his cock already pressing against your pussy. “Do you want me? Use your words.”

You pull your dress up around your waist and open your legs for him. “Yes. Yes, I fucking want you. Need you.”

He reaches for his elegant black leather wallet and swiftly produces a condom packet, rolling the rubber carefully over his cock before shifting into position against you.

“I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, chérie - wanted you,” and with a steady push he’s inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. He fondles your breasts as you both adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck me, thief.” You are direct, clear - and he obeys, dragging himself almost all the way back out before thrusting back into you and steadily building up a rhythm that has you both moaning with pleasure as he fucks into you over and over again, hands gripping your hips and lips finding yours in a messy, needy kiss.

He slips a finger against your clit and works it until you’re coming on his cock, smiling to himself when he feels your cunt clench around him and the wetness drip down onto his balls. 

“Good girl, chérie,” he coos, kissing the soft skin of your breasts, exposed over the neckline of your dress. “I’m going to go a little faster now, a little harder, okay?”

You nod your assent and cry out as he fucks you harder and deeper than you’ve ever been before, legs wrapping around his warm, solid body to pull him even further into you as he comes with a loud groan and collapses onto your chest.

***

He awakes to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and an empty bed. An envelope, simply addressed to ‘My Gentleman Thief’, is propped up against the coffee machine. He opens it with a smile.

Thief, 

I wanted our reunion more than I dared admit. And now that I’ve had you, I have a feeling I’m going to want you all the more.

I suspect, too, that you have many more stories to share - preferably over dinner, and then before bed.

You know where I am. 

Find me. 

Chérie

[chaoticgeminate]

Year of Video Game AUs Masterlist

Welcome to my series combining my love of video games and my love of Pedro Pascal. This is my contribution for the Year of Themed Creation, I hope that you enjoy what I've planned for you! These won't necessarily follow exact plots, some of these are in-universe only, but the theme of each game is the primary focus. So sit back, get comfy, and enjoy my stories and the accompanying playlist~

To enjoy all of the amazing "Year Of Themed Creations" head on over to @yearofcreation2023 where every piece of work is going to be put nicely on the library shelf or framed and hung up on the walls for everyone to enjoy.

January: Marcus P x f!Reader - The Saltwater Room (Raft) February: Pero x f!Reader - Black Vultures (The Forest) March: Javi G x f!Reader - Cloud Nine (Pokémon)

April: The Thief x f!Reader - Wicked Ways (Tomb Raider/Uncharted) May: Ezra x f!Reader - Iodine (Alice the Madness Returns) June: Marcus M x f!Reader - Break In (Coral Island/Stardew Valley)

July: Din x f!Reader - Warrior (Legend of Zelda) August: Oberyn x f!Reader - In the Shadows (Assassins Creed) September: Dave x f!Reader - Apocalyptic (Fallout)

October: Javi P x f!Reader - Misguided Ghosts (Phasmophobia) November: Joel x f!Reader - Tidal Wave (Zoo Tycoon) December: Frankie x f!Reader - Bright Eyes (Spiritfarer)

[pedro-pedrito-pascalito]

the thief of my heart 🖤

[galaxyedging]

The Thief x f!reader.

New Year's Eve Drabbles

Warnings: kissing, alcohol consumption. Smut warning for follow on chapters.

New Years Eve was supposed to be magical. The precipice of a new year. A new year full of possibilities and potential. Personally you just liked the idea of underling the old year along with any negativity from it. You never tried to build up the year ahead too much, through fear of disappointment. You certainly didn't get your hopes up for a magical evening. Even in a mansion that screamed to be the set for a fantasy film. Yet here you were, feeling pretty damn magical as you let a stranger kiss you at midnight.

A few wrong turns making your way back from the bathroom had let you to him. He stood by a roaring fire, the shadows from it danced along his profile. It was strikingly handsome. His hair and beard added a softness to his strong profile. His dark brown eyes were captivating as you mumbled an apology. He'd waved it off and asked you did you believe in magic. His large hand shuffled a deck of cards as he did so. You thought he would ask you to choose one as you let out a tentative yes. In a blink the cards were gone replaced by a bottle of wine. A lot of people at the party may have been drunk, you weren't one of them. Instantly you tried to workout how he did that trick. The bottle was too large to fit up his sleeve. His full lips quirked up in a smirk. "That's only a small taste of the magic I have in store for you." As pick up lines went, it was pretty cheesy but somehow he made it work.

"Really?" You shot him an amused smirk.

"All you have to do is spin the bottle and I will fulfil some of your desires, the ones that burn under your skin while you are alone at night."

The room became warmer as you sat next to him on the luxurious sofa. Almost in a daze you placed your hand on the bottle that he had laid on the table in front of you. It span in the middle of the table, round and round, almost unnaturally. It seemed to go faster and faster until it reached an almost dizzying speed then it stopped. Unsurprisingly, it pointed to your magician. You had to give him points for style. The clock striking the hour made you throw caution to the wind. Your lips met his with a passion you had never felt before. You couldn't get enough of him. Your lips met his again and again.

He seemed similarly affect until he pulled himself away. "Not yet. Spin again."

This time when the bottle spun, there were objects on the table. Small statues, they reminded you of game pieces. A suit of amour. A cowboy hat. Sunglasses. Others you couldn't quite make out in the dark of the room. All detailed. All fashioned from metal. The bottle came to an abrupt stop again. Pointing to one of the tiny statues. A pair of crossed swords.

[ghostofaboy]

I'm working on my final request for my follower celebration now. A nice little FishBen bondage fic.

After that I'll be returning to Rock Bottom for a while as it's in its third act now and it's time to start getting this shit done.

In the meantime, I've got a Tim/Thief smutty little number coming this Wednesday (7th), so here's a snippet.

The Thief grinned down at Tim from his seat on the other man’s cock. Below him, Tim panted, squeezing the Thief’s thighs tightly as he pinched his eyes shut. He was close, the Thief could tell, and while he would never get tired of watching Tim come, the Thief had other plans.

Holding himself as still as possible, the Thief patiently waited for Tim to reopen his eyes. Slowly, Tim’s large brown eyes opened, looking up at the Thief questioningly. His brow creased as Tim gradually caught his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all, dearest.” The Thief leaned forward to plant a kiss on Tim’s forehead. “I’m just admiring the view.”

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

To Catch a Thief

Featuring one Detective Tim Rockford and a certain thief

Words: 1, 985

The thief had eluded me once more, outsmarted me like a fox. I’ve been staring at the board for hours now, hoping a clue would call out to me, but nothing was popping out.

Normally, I wouldn’t give robbery my time, it just being some petty thief liberating rich assholes of their treasures. But rich assholes are loud and make one hell of a fuss about their property being stolen. I would’ve written this off as some Robin Hood type vigilante except they skipped the give-to-the-poor part.

This thief has proven a challenge to me. He’s like a flowing river; always running, being one step ahead of me, and stepping into its current would surely sweep me away, so I have to stand on the shore and hope to build a dam in time. He’s stolen from all the big-name families, no rhyme or reason to his method. No evidence: not a fingerprint or even an eyelash left behind. It’s like he’s mocking me, a spectre always behind me.

Fuck, I’m tired. I’ve been staring at this board for too long. I should take my mama’s advice and sleep on it, come back to it with fresh eyes. Driving back home, I’m running on autopilot. The darkness greets me as I open the door to my empty apartment. Not bothering to even take my shoes off, I’m out like a light as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The morning wakes me up with her horrible city noises. I slept on my bad shoulder which I regretted as soon as I moved from my slumber. Not even a scalding hot shower could each the eternal ache. It just makes the ugly scar stand out further.

Arriving at the station, I walk into a hurricane of chaos. Another robbery in the night. Once again, the thief has gone under my nose, tickling me with that feather of mockery. There was not enough cheap coffee in the world to deal with this shit storm.

“Rockford, it’s bad. The Ashford’s were hit this time.”

“What was taken?”

“All contents of their safe.”

“Don’t these people use banks anymore?”

Of course, they were making an even bigger storm in the kettle of the interview room. Priceless jewels stolen; family heirlooms gone forever. These rich snobs have all the money in the world and yet they go for the cheapest security because who would dare to steal from them? I’d never say they were asking for it, but you get what you paid for. When you pay for nothing, you end up with nothing in return. I’m sure once their insurance kicks in, they can buy new family heirlooms.

I added this case to my ever growing board and wait for another clue to call to me, but my captain was on my ass about catching this guy. His wife must be friends with these high society types. He’d always brag about the fancy parties he’d attended the night before, sipping on champagne while the rest of us have to deal with cheap instant coffee.

Sipping this cheap swill, my team formulated a plan to set a trap. The Montgomery’s were having some fancy shindig, unveiling a new work of art they purchased for some amount of money that would’ve bought be hot meals for life. Art was the first thing stolen, must’ve had a love of it before going onto things much shinier.

The whole place was swept over like a vacuum cleaner, picking up any bugs of contempt. Security cameras installed and several officers placed around the party scene, uniforms apparently being a downer in the festive atmosphere. And because my captain was attending, I also had to be on alert.

I never understood the rich lifestyle, too much spending money on things that don’t make sense. Who needs a bathroom with two bathtubs? And who enjoys the salty crap of caviar served on a cheap cracker? Give me a roof over my head and a bottle of something alcoholic to ease my pain and I’m happy.

I had to admit my heart wasn’t in it tonight, not completely on the job. I felt more of a thrill in the chase rather than waiting for a mouse to fall into an obvious trap. I was sure nothing would come of this aimless escapade. I was handed a glass of something fancy, so I settled myself down on a chair out of the way of the noise and partook of my gifted libation. Well, liquid gold does have a taste to it.

“Detective!”

I don’t remember falling asleep, the only thing I do remember was being shook awoke by a passing officer. The thief struck again. The easel empty of its work of art. The only thing left was a note.

The first clue and it was deliberately left to mock me. So either he got cocky, or we were so useless at finding even a crumb, he had to start leaving us whole meals out for us. Again, no fingerprints, not even a cobweb was disturbed. Security footage returned nothing, the phantom flying through once again.

Until next time.

“Take this to get the handwriting looked at. Notify me as soon as you have something” I managed to pass the note to an officer, the lad managing to get out before my captain came barging in, all hell following in his wake.

“Rockford! What the hell?”

I quickly rubbed the sleep from my face, hoping he wouldn’t notice I was out in the land of nod when it happened.

“Rockford, how in the hell did this bastard manage to get past us again?”

“Honestly, I only have theories. We were the only ones who knew the plan. Someone must have ratted us out or, it was an inside job. I’ll have to question everyone in the team.”

“An inside job? What kind of crazy are you talking here?”

“It’s the only theory that makes sense.”

“Sense? Tim, when was the last time you looked in the mirror?”

“I avoid it when I can.”

“Well, you look like shit is what you look like. You know what? You’re off the case.”

That hit me like a freight train running a red light.

“Boss, you can’t take this case away from me. I’m close, I know it.”

“I’m sorry but, you haven’t been the same since the accident.”

“I only got shot, I’ve dealt with worse.”

“No, I made a mistake bringing you back too early. I thought a minor case would ease back in, but it’s spiralled out of control.”

“It hasn’t”

“Ten thefts! In the last three months! Ten families robbed of their valuables.”

A dark thought crossed my mind, but thankfully my mouth had control of itself before I could say they deserved what they got. Instead, I just stood there, head hanging in shame and anger.

“You need a bit more time off. Take a vacation somewhere nice.”

I would’ve told him where to take his vacation but decided drowning my sorrows to be a better use of my time. I grabbed a bottle of something on my way out. These rich folks neither minding nor caring whether they had a bottle less in their collection.

My apartment was still empty when I returned; the sunshine reminding me of the loneliness I was set to face. Half a bottle of alcohol in my bloodstream would soon cure me of that, making my brain forget the world existed. I welcomed the darkness like a hug from my mama.

Until I was rudely awakened by thunder. The night greeted me with a display of a thunderstorm Frankenstein would’ve welcomed in his madness. And a creature was on the prowl, making me aware that I wasn’t alone in my apartment. The goosebumps on my arms prickled, alerting me to a presence close by. Drawing my gun I proceeded to hunt down this bastard once and for all. He was a sneaky one, I admit, slithering away out of sight while tempting me with that Forbidden fruit. I swear I would just see him out of the corner of my eye, only to have him disappear as soon as I turned the corner. This twisted cat and mouse game was suddenly interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

“What?”

“Detective Rockford? I have the results.”

“Results?”

I nearly forgot what he was talking about.

“Yeah, we did a writing analysis on the note left at the crime scene.”

A sudden movement caught me by the corner of my eye.

“The handwriting doesn’t match any known criminals” he continued while I slowly approached the shadow, “All we know is that it was done on a notepad found in the house and used with a pen also found there. It’s one of those fancy fountain pens that leaks so the culprit would have smudges on his fingers but sadly no fingerprints.”

I had him now, I said I’d call back and hung up before getting a reply. He was here now, right in front of me. I raised my gun.

“Settle down there, don’t go shooting in here, you could hurt yourself.”

I slowly lowered my gun and stared him square in the eye, something about them strangely familiar to me.

“I have you now.”

“Yes, you do. But let’s have a drink first before you drag me in.”

He held up the once empty glass of mine, in smudges visible on his fingers.

“For a man who hates the rich, you sure do have excellent taste.”

“Cut the drabble, tell me how you managed all those thefts.”

“You know how I did it.”

The man in front of me was talking in riddles. Giving me puzzle pieces without showing me the picture.

“How’d you get in here?”

“You know how I got in here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Lightning flashed, showing his full form. I dropped the glass from my hand, it shattering on the floor. I didn’t remember being handed one and raised my hand in confusion, noticing ink smudges on my fingers. The thief raised his hand and I looked back into his eyes.

The puzzle pieces in my head were slowly being put back into place.

“Are you me?”

“No, I’m me, you’re you. We just, how do you say it? Have a lot in common.”

It was like looking into a mirror, literally. I’d been avoiding my reflection for months since I got shot, too ashamed to look at myself. My reflection must have taken a life of its own.

“There you were, defending some rich couple getting into their car, being held up by some petty thief. Then you, the good detective goes and gets shot defending their honour. And what do you get in return?”

My scar burned at the memory of it. I scratched away at it, so did he.

“All that pain and suffering, and not even a thank you. In fact…”

“They blamed me for letting him get away.”

The puzzle completed now; the picture came flooding back into your memory. All the pain and humiliation I was put through.

“A desk job was all I was good for when I got back to work.”

“A smart man like you being made to sit the day away in boredom? No wonder your mind started to wander.”

“A challenge was needed.”.”

“Only one you could solve. It was a fun challenge.”

“Fun indeed.”

“And you happened to get revenge against all those rich fuckers who left you to rot in the gutter.”

My smile was demonic now.

“It was fun to see their faces.”

“All to see that smile on your face.”

His smile matched mine. I thanked him with a nod, and he nodded in return. He raised a new glass and brought it to his lips. The whiskey tasted divine on my tongue.

[musings-of-a-rose]

The Thief Masterlist

*Indicates smut

One Shots:

The Detective and The Thief

[free-for-all-fics]

Detective Tim Rockford and The Thief Crossover AU Prompt! I don’t have any idea how to describe this. It’s sort of inspired by Nancy Drew and The Silent Spy, Dante’s Inferno, and Final Destination. It gets weird. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! 🕵️‍♂️💎⚰️

Your past was shrouded deep in mystery. You later met and started dating Detective Tim Rockford but even he couldn’t find much on you. Your records were very minimal and bare bones, only listing the most basic of background information. He’d question you during the course of your relationship but you’d only tell him small details here and there about your family, your childhood, schooling, etc. Maybe you didn’t have any living family or you just didn’t know that much about your own history. In his line of work he’d met many people in similar situations, so he didn’t think that much about it. He trusted you, so he never dug that deep.

He was fascinated with a particular string of jewel thefts and spent many years trying to pin down this elusive and unidentified thief. When you became engaged, he showed you his research and told you his theories. Unbeknownst to him, you were one of the thieves he was so desperate to unmask. He’d never suspect anything whenever you’d randomly get out of bed to disappear into the night or were gone for days at a time. His career also required him to be on-call and leave on short notice, and he’d often stay for overnight shifts to get paperwork done and wouldn’t be home until the wee hours of the morning. More often than not, Tim was away from home which allowed you to slip away easily. He figured your job just had similar demands, and he wasn’t entirely wrong on that. On the rare occasion Tim was home when you had to leave for a heist, you’d just tell him it was “for work” and that you’d be home as soon as you could. You’d kiss him goodbye, he’d tell you to be safe and have a good day, and that was that.

When you married Tim, you sent The Thief an invitation using a sophisticated encryption device so that his location couldn’t be traced and compromised. Although he received your invite, The Thief didn’t attend your wedding. He was still in love with you, even if you ended your romantic relationship with him years ago or his feelings for you were unrequited. He couldn’t bear to watch you marry another man. He instead left you an anonymous wedding gift.

Years went by and you had a child with Tim. When you got pregnant, you decided to finally retire. You’d settled in and grown accustomed to ordinary civilian life as Tim’s wife. You had a regular day job you enjoyed and moved on as best as you could, devoting yourself to raising your child with your loving and doting husband. You were a clever woman who loved your family very much, so you spent your free time making and hiding puzzles around the house for your husband to find and solve. When your child was old enough, you’d hoped to make puzzles for them too. You knew Tim’s job could get dangerous and he was often home late, but you were used to it. Married life wasn’t that different from when you were dating and living together. You still saved dinner for him in the fridge and patched him up in the bathroom or kitchen. You never regretted your decision to call it quits with the heists, though you missed The Thief. You still kept in contact, but stopped meeting him in person ever since you learned you were pregnant. As long as you were happy, he’d try to stay away and let you get on with your new life. Key word: Try.

Despite your retirement, your former heist partner (and possibly ex-lover) periodically called you on untraceable phone lines and tried to get you back in the game. For 10 years he was persistent but his efforts were to no avail. Whenever he called you about a new target he found, you had a feeling deep in your gut he was trying to entice you into joining him because he missed you too and was still in love with you. Maybe he thought that if he tempted you with adventure and roused your curiosity enough, you’d come back to him. He knew you’d never divorce Tim or leave your child, but he hid his sadness and disappointment well whenever you rejected his offers of teaming up for a heist again. To an untrained ear, the desperation and longing for you in his voice would’ve gone undetected. But you’ve known him for many years and can read his mannerisms, tone of voice, etc. You understand him better than anyone.

But one day, The Thief finally convinces you to join him on a high risks, high rewards heist. To do this, he lies to you about having round-the-clock protection. You’re firm with him in that this is your last heist. No room for negotiation. You spend many days staking out the place, plotting over maps, testing out listening devices and other tech, etc. It’s the most stressful heist you’ve ever been on, but you’re able to complete it and leave the premises with the valuables in hand. However, despite your success, you’re targeted in a counterattack to apprehend The Thief. You and he are caught in a trap; you get shot or seriously injured in a rigged car accident, and The Thief is barely able to pull you both out and get you to safety. He uses his skills and quick thinking to lose the people tailing you during a high speed car chase and drives you to one of your secret hideouts. You’re safe here and can lay low for a while. But despite your escape, you’re in bad shape - Very bad shape.

A hospital isn’t an option, so The Thief uses any clean cloths he has to try to put pressure on your wounds and/or to operate on you and remove the bullet himself. His expensive clothing may get stained by your blood and ruined forever, but fuck it. He doesn’t give a damn if he has to throw away these priceless suit jackets he’s worked so hard to steal. He can steal again and replace them. He can’t replace you. You’re bleeding badly and he does everything he can to save you, but you know it’s futile. You’re dying. Even though you’re married and he knows he shouldn’t, he still loves you more than anyone in the world. So he calls Tim for you and does something he’s never ever done - he tells your husband, a specialized law enforcement professional, his location. He tells Tim to get here as soon as possible and that he’ll keep you stable until his arrival.

Tim speaks to you, his beloved wife, for the last time on your deathbed. In your final moments, you introduce him to The Thief and reveal that you and he were the thieves Tim had sought after for over 20 years. You ask for his forgiveness for keeping it from him; you would’ve told him but just couldn’t. It was too risky and there was too much at stake. When you breathe your last, your best friends and men you love the most are by your side. They hold you in their arms together as they mourn and cry over your body. Tim has spent so much of his career trying to catch these infamous thieves, but now he can’t do it. He can’t betray you in that way by exposing you or turning in your partner and best friend. After watching the way The Thief behaved towards you in your final hours together, Tim knows that the other man loved you just as much as he did.

But Tim is frozen in shock when The Thief unexpectedly pulls out an ornate knife or uses a sleight of hand trick to steal his gun. The Thief tells Tim that you and he made a pact in case either of you ever got caught or something like this were to happen. In the event that one of you ever got captured or died during a heist, you made a contingency plan. There’s enough food, water, and other resources in this secret hideout to last Tim for months. The Thief tells your husband that he should probably call someone to watch over his and your child for the foreseeable future - This could take a while and he’s not sure how long he’ll be. He orders Tim to watch over his and your bodies until he gets back. Everything happens so quickly; Tim isn’t able to process what he’s said or react fast enough before The Thief either shoots himself or slits his throat.

In life, he was the greatest thief who ever lived. But, as tends to happen, now he’s the greatest thief who ever died. But he did this for a purpose: He’s set his sights on stealing from Death itself - The Ultimate Heist. Once he pulls this off, maybe he’ll finally retire. No theft can ever come close to topping this! He’s going to get you back - Not for himself or his own selfish desires, but for your family’s sake. Tim and your child is the only family you’ve ever known. You’ve worked hard for your happiness and were so proud of the family you built. Your child is but 10 years old, too young to grow up without their mother. And your husband needs you just as much as The Thief does. He’ll do anything to bring you back to the land of the living. He’ll defy and challenge Death, and even sell his soul for yours if he has to.

Tell the story of The Thief’s journey as he traverses the unknown and fights to bring you back to your family. Is he in Purgatory? The Underworld? Heaven? Hell? What and/or who does he see and encounter on his way to finding you? From here, It’s all up to you.