literature

Thief!Spain x Reader Like a Thief in the Night

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London, England.

“This was your grandmother’s, and when you come of age, it will be yours,” your father spoke in a hushed voice, as if in awe of what was contained in the long, thin wooden case he had balanced on his inner arm. He reached around and turned the tiny key in the silver lock on the front face of the box, and you stood on your tiny toes to get a better look at what treasure lay inside.

It was breathtaking. It burned like the sun in the light of the many candles surrounding you: a chain of linked rectangular diamonds, with seven palm-sized sapphires hanging from it, and from those seven, four more, even bigger sapphires dropped, and those four supported the master, the queen, of all the gems in that box: a stone the size of your father’s giant fist. Each of the twelve sapphires was haloed in its own company of diamonds. It was the most beautiful thing you had seen in your short life. You reached up and placed a small, chubby hand on the largest stone.

“Dadda...it’s so beautiful! When can I have it?”

“When you turn 21 my sweet,” and to your disappointment he closed the box, “this is worth a king’s ransom, and when it becomes yours you must protect it with your life, do you understand (full name)?”

You nodded eagerly, eyes screwing up to prevent the image of the beautiful piece from escaping your mind before you forgot.

You were 8. You had thirteen years to wait till that magnificent piece of craftsmanship became yours.

Madrid, Spain...

Thirteen years later...

It was the eve of your twenty-first birthday. The night before in fact; midnight was only minutes away. You couldn’t sleep; you kept tossing and turning in your luxurious four poster bed, continuously rotating your pillows to gain the cold side, hoping that Madrid – your home since you were ten – had become suddenly hotter than what your body had acclimatised to. You even did the time old tradition of having one leg under the covers and one leg on top, but still nothing. Sighing, you resigned yourself to insomnia and rolled out of bed, heading for the doors to your balcony. Throwing them open, the midnight breeze caressed your face and naked arms, picking up your white night dress as you stepped out to look over the rooftops of Madrid.

Your father – England’s ambassador to Spain – had been made a Don as special thanks to him once he had retired, and when you were eleven your father had moved you and your mother to Madrid, where you had been raised like the daughter of a nobleman. A decade on you were now fluent in Spanish, and had adopted the culture and custom of Spain as your own, mingling with those of the town instead of choosing to remain aloof and snobbish like the rest of your contemporaries. But even through all this excitement, you still didn’t forget your grandmother’s sapphires, and how you longed to have them hang from your neck. You gave a soft sigh as you leaned against the cool stone of the balustrade, thinking of how they sparkled like trapped stars.

                                    ***

“Hey, tomato-bastardo, are you coming?” An irate Italian whispered as he tugged at the rope that hung from the top of the building, “before-a the guards come back.”

“Si si, I am coming Lovi.” Antonio Fernandez Carriedo tightened the black fabric mask around his head and secured the wooden jewellery box under his arm before picking up the rope tied to the chimneystack of your home.

“Here I come Lovi,” he backed himself out onto the edge of the roof, heels dangling over the precipice of the three story drop from the roof to the garden below.  

“Just don’t-a drop the box-a stupido!” hissed Lovi, gazing up at his companion as he tried the rope once more for surety, before taking that first step down the vertical climb.

But that first step never came...

“Here come-a the guards!” Lovi looked to the left upon hearing twin sets of footsteps approaching the corner. Above, Antonio hurriedly took a step forward onto the roof again.

“Go Lovi! I’ll find another way!” But before the Italian could protest his friend was gone, pulling up the rope as he went. Muttering something in angry Italian, Lovino scrambled over the tall white washed wall that made the perimeter of your extensive garden, and vanished into the night.  

Antonio watched as the guards Lovi had heard came to a stop just feet from where the rope had dangled, and took up position there, cutting off that way of escape. He turned and strode across the large flat rooftop of the Don’s mansion house, and peered down the opposite side. What luck! He thought: an empty balcony not one story down jutted out from the side of the building. He could easily make that jump and then make a leap for the garden wall from there. Grinning at his good fortune, he easily swung himself down over the edge, gripping with his fingers the corner of the roof, before dropping onto the balcony below. He landed in a neat kneeling position, the box still tucked up under his arm.

“Easy enough,” he rose and turned to look out over the breathtaking view of Madrid, “that lucky bastard, Don (last name), getting to wake up to a view like this...” A sharp intake of breath from behind him caused him to spin around, his hand going to his needle like rapier at his side. But his hand that had tensed around the ornate handle of his sword, eased off the cold steel as he took in the figure before him.

                                      ***

You stood frozen in the doorway to your room, hands grasping the knobs of the balcony doors as you made to close them. The man had caught you by surprise, and the glint of his rapier handle in the moonlight caused fear to course through your blood... and it made you very aware of how undressed and unprotected you really were. You gulped, and made to take a step back, to scream, but he was faster: he had the hand that had been grasping his sword handle around your mouth in the blink of an eye, silencing you.

“Shuush chica, I mean you no harm, sincerely, por favor...do not scream.” Out of terror you nodded, wide eyes never moving from his hard emerald ones.

“Gracias chica,” he whispered and pulled his hand away slowly. You breathed in deeply, keeping your eyes riveted on him as he stepped back, his own eyes turning from a threatening glare to a playful glow.

Now that he had her silenced, he could now fully appreciate her form. He danced his eyes over her thinly clothed body, noting the soft terror in her (eye colour) eyes, and the way the wind played with the ends of her (hair length) (hair colour) hair. The way her skin was paler than that of his native people told him right away that she was Don (last name)’s only child: his daughter (first name).

“Chica, your name is ____, am I right?” You gave a very dumb nod, causing him to give a dazzling smile, “the rumours of your beauty are indeed true, and I must ask for this small favour from you.” He reached forward and took one of your hands, and pressed his lips to it, bowing slightly.  

You were stunned, as well as terrified. This man, all in black from his head to his toes, who had dropped onto your balcony and almost drew his sword on you, who had pleaded with you not to scream, who had undoubtedly done something wrong...was flirting with you!

“I um...” he looked up from your hand, green eyes lidded and glowing,

“Si, hermosa?” He virtually purred and straightened a little, “yes beautiful?”

“I don’t think-” something clattered to the ground and you looked down, as did he.

You felt your eyes widen as you recognised the box...the longed for box. It all became clear to you now: he was here...robbing your home!

Your eyes slid from the box to the man before you, who met your gaze, all playfulness gone and the coldness returned. The tension between you grew; your hand pulling from his black gloved one, your whole body preparing to pounce on the valued box the second you got a clear shot.

“Chica...” the man purred in warning, “do not do anything foolish now...”

“But it is not yours!” You whined (you actually whined) your eyes never leaving the pale wood box. This caused the man to smirk gleefully,

“Oh but it is now chica: I’ve stolen it from your father and nothing will stop me from taking it now.”

“But it is mine!” You dared to look away from the box to his half covered face, “it is mine you cannot take what is mine!”

“____, your father can now afford to buy you new shiny trinkets at any time now. Surely this does not mean so much to you if you do not have it in a safe in your own room?”

You lunged for the box, as quick as lightning, your hands grasping the sides tightly as you made it there before the Spaniard, your knuckles whitening as you yanked it to your chest...

The razor edge of his rapier made you freeze again, crouching down at his feet with the box crushed to your chest.

“I told you not to do anything foolish, chica,” the blade pressed against the underside of your chin, forcing you to rise slowly to your feet. The blade remained within shaving distance as you saw his face once more, now as hard as the sapphires in your hand.

“Give me the box chica, or I will cut your throat, which will be a regrettable occurrence since you are very lovely and I would not wish to rob Spain of your beauty.”

If you gave him the sapphires...you may never get them back...but if you don’t...this man might very well kill you and you will definitely never get them back. And your parents would have lost both you and the necklace.
Tears welled up, and your lip began to tremble as you slowly extended a hand with the box in it. He took it, grinning again.

“Thank you, now remember: no screaming.” He stepped back, pulling the blade with him. Your mouth parted slightly to inhale a deep breath of relief, and that was when he robbed you of something else. His lips on yours were firm, but not hard as he darted forward and overwhelmed you, surprising you out of your senses and breath as his mouth occupied yours for an all too brief time.

And then he was gone, leaping over the balustrade and onto the top of the garden wall below. As you made it back onto the balcony and screamed for the guards, he had already vanished into the night, along with your grandmother’s treasure.
THE BASTARD STOLE THIS NECKLACE! jewelry4millionaires.com/00650…

YOU SHOULD BE FURIOUS!

So...what do you think? More, or keep it as a one-shot?

PART 2: shinrei-yukimura.deviantart.co…
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I'm really pissed off at this bitch... Just... Really want to sucker punch him into a K.O.... Enju Pout Icon  (Other than that I like this so far. Just wish I wasn't so much of a wuss. XD )