#the man from u.n.c.l.e imagine

[jungkooklover777]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐾𝐺𝐵 𝐴𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦, 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 “𝐹𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒́𝑒” ; illya kuryakin | one-shot |

summary: in which it takes playing dress-up with a russian kgb agent to realize the true feelings you two have masked well.

pairing: fem!reader x illya kuryakin.

trope: friends to lovers + undercover spies disguised as an engaged couple.

genre: modern!au + fluff + romance.

warnings‼️: illya’s tall ahh (he’s 6’5 (das my type!! 😝)) + implied introvert!reader + crude language + mentions alcohol consumption + a movie reference to 365 Days (2020) (i’ve never watched any of those movies & i never will 🙏🏽) + a short n sweet kiss scene.

word count: 2,811.

random disclaimerrr: rewatched The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) a few days ago & i forgot how good it is. icl armie hammer was so fine in that movie 😭 the accent and height added so much more to his appeal & illya is such a gentleman uGH i want illya soo badd. happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2024 @jungkooklover777

“You will be ready by the time the party’s over, yes?” Illya asks snarkily.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at his playfulness, a smile creeps up onto your face.

“Sure!” You reply cheekily as you open the door and switch off the light, exiting the bathroom.

You have your eyes set on your purse and heels and you walk towards them while putting on your earrings.

You don’t notice the effect you have on the tall Russian. His lips are agape and his eyes rest on your moving figure.

He’s the one who picked out what you’re wearing, from the earrings down to the heels. The idea in his head has now come to life and he doesn’t know what to do.

He always thought you were pretty, lovely, pretty lovely. Not tonight. Tonight you’re so much more.

There’s an allure of mystery that surrounds you.

There’s something in your eyes that makes you look so unattainable yet that much desirable. The curves of your nose and lips makes him want to study your face to see what other qualities he shall find.

What have you done to him to have him conjure up such sentiments? Illya deems it must be enchantment but he doesn’t mind.

You’ve bewitched him the moment he first saw you running down an alley. The moonlight casted an ethereal glow in your fearful eyes and it made him want to protect you from then on.

You feel glamorous and the elegance in your walk adds to your charm.

You remind yourself to thank your Russian friend forever for buying you everything.

“I know I said it already but thank you, Illya. Truly.”

You don’t hear a response but you don’t need it. You know he told you not to thank him for buying you things but you feel obligated. He’s spoiling you, fake fiancé or not.

You sit on the bed and have one heel in your hand when Illya kneels in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He tilts his head towards your heel and you look at him confused. He puts his hand out and waits for you to put your heel in his possession.

“There’s no need for that, really. I can do this myself.”

You feel the butterflies flying all around your stomach and you can feel the heat covering your ears.

You’ve experienced his respectful nature when he opens all doors of every kind and waits for you to enter, a hand is always at your back when you’re in crowds, a chair is pushed out for you to sit down on and pushed back in everywhere you two go.

But willingly kneeling in a freshly dry-cleaned and pressed suit for wanting to put your heels on for you? That takes the cake.

You’re lost in all the ways his gentlemanliness comes out for (read: affects) you that you don’t realize he’s clasping the belt buckle of your second heel.

His fingers linger for a moment longer and that quiet act of intimacy makes the breath in your chest heavy. You swallow it.

Illya moves swiftly to stand, he holds out his hand for you take. You maintain eye contact with him as you take it. Your shoulders meet his middle and he sticks his elbow out for you take, your purse already in his other hand.

“Ready?” His lips are turned back into a small smile.

You nod and retrieve your purse from him.

You don’t mention how you’re matching (and how extremely handsome he looks). Maybe it’s because he’s supposed to be your fiancé but it still makes you feel giddy inside.

A small smile is plastered on your face and you don’t care if you look like an idiot.

Affection tends to have that effect on people.

Illya is a Russian architect who immigrated to the States for a job opportunity and you’re the daughter of his boss; a businessman.

The mission is to mingle with the targets rich posse and find the blueprints of a project that is being used as a cover for something problematic.

Illya does most of the talking as you don’t know how you’re supposed to converse with spoiled, conceited assholes without ripping their and/or your hair out. That and the fact that you don’t talk to strangers very well.

You don’t like unwanted attention so you excuse yourself and sit on a stool at the minibar.

“Excuse me?” A manly voice catches your attention.

Of course. You knew you had to talk to someone tonight but that didn’t mean you were ready.

You lift your chin to meet his gaze. You can tell he’s old-money rich.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if I’d seen you before.”

Fuck.

You think fast. “I don’t think so. I’m not exactly famous.”

He smirks at that last bit.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t forget your face.”

You’re midway through a sip of some variation of a martini when you lightly cough from his flirting.

The stranger just smiles wider and offers another drink.

“Oh, no. Please, I-I don’t really drink much.”

He waves you off and insists on buying you one more. He invites himself over to the stool next to you and you wish to die.

“So, what brings you here?”

“My fiancé is an architect and he was invited to take a look at an unfinished project.”

You shock yourself with how smoothly the lie came out of your lips. Your brain is killing it right now.

“Ah, is it the Manhattan Project?”

Bingo.

You nod and lick your lips to wipe off any excess alcohol when his arm extends forward to wipe something off the corner of your lips.

“Smudged lipstick.” He explains.

You immediately feel uncomfortable. It would’ve been different if Illya did that but there’s an odd vibe you’re getting from this guy.

His eyes seem like they’re hiding something and that stupid fucking smirk on his face feels sleazy.

You’ve got to get out of here.

“Thanks.” You say feeling quite the opposite of thankful.

He nods coolly before asking who your fiancé is and you point to Illya.

“Holy shit, he’s tall.”

You chuckle a bit at that.

“How’d you two meet?”

You eye him a bit before carefully deciding what to say next.

“We’ve been talking about me this entire time, care to tell me your name for a change?”

You take another sip from your martini and think you did a good job deflecting but his silence is unnerving.

His body language is now tense. It’s like you caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.

You calm your heart and try to relax. You remind yourself that you’re in public, nothing will happen if you just stay calm and alert. Besides, Illya is just a short walk away.

“Come with me, I wanna show you something.”

Alarms start to go off in your head and you immediately regret not getting up the moment you caught wind off him.

“Oh, I can’t. My fiancé—”

“Your fiancé seems pretty busy to me.” He quips.

He’s looking at Illya and you reluctantly follow his line of reasoning to see Illya laughing it up with a bunch of randoms about who knows what.

You digress. “Well, you did buy me a drink so. Can’t leave it unfinished, right?”

You weren’t going to drink it but anything to keep yourself here.

You read the impatience on his face and you’ve decided; you’re not going anywhere with him.

You purse your lips in a friendly smile but he doesn’t feel the same.

He grabs your wrist and it hurts.

You snap your neck up at him and he’s so close to you, you want to make a scene if that’s what it takes to make him go away.

Yet you regain your composure.

“Let go of me.” You make sure to enunciate every word even though your voice was trying to betray you.

He ignores you and turns around only for his face to run into the wall that is Illya’s chest.

He drops your wrist and hisses in pain, his fingers covering his nose.

Illya doesn’t seem amused. His eyes move past him and make their way to you, your feet guide you to him.

He instinctively reaches out for your wrist and you hear him sharply exhale through his nose. His fingers delicately hold your wrist, the pad of his thumb rub it gently. His face is stitched together in worry, forgive me his eyes plead. His hands come up to hold your face and he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.

“It’s okay, I-I’m okay.”

The other man whines pitifully in pain and Illya’s attention is on him again.

His eyes pierce straight through him and you watch his face contort to something rageful. His eyes brim with fury and you’re in a trance.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

His other hand shakes with anger and adrenaline but he reels it in.

“Don’t touch her if you like that hand.” Illya’s voice is grave, adding to his intimidating demeanor.

You step in front of him, serving as a divider for both men and set your hands on his chest.

“Calm down. Please, Illya, let’s just leave.” You plea, softly.

Napoleon is in his ear telling him you’re right and to do as you say but you know he won’t listen to him. You hope he can at least hear you out.

“Please.” You press.

Illya’s eyes drop down to you and they dart back at the other pathetic loser walking away with a bloodied napkin with some other guy awkwardly trailing behind.

He wordlessly envelopes the hand of your lightly bruised wrist in both of his and takes you back to the hotel room.

You and Illya have adjoining rooms that are connected by a sliding door.

You decide to shower and do your skincare before addressing what happened back there.

When you come out, you find your Russian friend playing chess with himself, seated at a small coffee table in his room.

You walk to the sliding door and stare at his back, tiptoeing over if you should speak now or forever hold your peace.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The grin that spreads over your face can’t be helped.

“I was just thinking that, seriously.”

He hums and thoughtfully moves a chess piece; the black knight.

There’s a slight pep in your step as you lay across his bed in front of him.

One hand holds his chin while the other is contemplating his next move. You mimic his movements by holding up your head with one hand. The fingers of your injured wrist fiddle with the string tying your shorts, tightening the waistline.

You think he looks cozy, warm even. Black long-sleeved silk pajamas with white buttons and threading. His dirty blonde hair is a bit damp from his shower, yet combed and swept back neatly.

He gets up and walks towards the bed with a kit in one hand. You sit up as he sets it down beside you.

You deduce he smells of cashmere with undertones of wood. It’s a nice combination, however unexpected it may be.

“Let me see.”

You don’t argue and show him your wrist.

He examines it carefully, blinking up at you when he touches the newfound bruise.

“Does it hurt when I touch it?” His voice is soft now, a gentle hum coating his words.

You shake your head.

Illya applies an ointment on it which causes a cooling sensation over your wrist and he wraps it up with a bandage.

He sits beside you and holds onto your hand. He sighs deeply.

“I’m truly sorry, Y/n.”

You open your mouth to protest but he continues.

“I should have been there. I should never have left you alone.”

“But I’m fine, Illya. Nothing too crazy happened.”

He stares into your eyes and you can see the penance he craves.

The index finger of your free hand comes up to trace the little scar at the side of his face and he closes his eyes on contact.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” You hope he can hear your sincerity and gratitude.

“At least I got some info out of him.”

He opens his eyes at this and you find yourself lost in the ocean-like abyss.

“I said you were invited to take a look at an unfinished project and he let the cover name slip.”

They’re so incredibly blue, you had no idea. An electric sky blue under whiter lights and a calm cerulean when in a darker setting. It’s the latter right now.

“You good?” His tone is far from worried and closer to amusement.

“Mhm.”

He tilts his head a bit and a smirk grows on his lips at your lack of words.

“Are you lost, babygirl?”

You burst into a fit of giggles at his action of referencing a movie for a real-life scenario.

He’s full on smiling now, seeing you happy makes him feel good. He feels even better knowing he’s the direct cause of your joy.

“You’re so corny.”

You squeeze some air into your lungs. Your hands hold his arm in a hug and you let your head fall into the space between his shoulder and neck.

You can hear Illya’s heartbeat and it starts to speed up as you lay on him. You sit back and are about to ask him what’s wrong but the words die in your throat as he tucks some hair behind your ear.

Your breathing becomes shallower by the second and his hand stays behind your ears.

The pads of his fingers set your nerves on fire. They cup the back of your neck and his thumb rests on your collarbone.

The tension between you is tangible but you don’t want to move. You’re afraid it’ll shatter like a cruel illusion made from a fantasy you’ll never get to experience.

Illya swallows harshly and eyes your lips that allow a bit of air to come through.

“I… Can I kiss you?”

And of course he’d ask you for permission. Of course he’d ask for your consent instead of voicing his desire in a string of words similar to ‘I’d like to kiss you’.

Anyone else would think this is a trivial matter but its value is understood by you and him.

You can’t find it in yourself to be cruel and deny you or him this chance.

“Yes.” You sigh.

Your eyes flutter shut, your eyelashes brush up against his cheekbone as he kisses you softly. His other hand wraps itself around your neck tenderly, like a ghost of warmth harboring your throat.

His lips smell of mint and you break away from him. He follows you blindly until you cover your fingers on his mouth.

“Did you use my chapstick?”

Your lips tingle with a minty sensation.

His lips are pink, a bit brighter from the tint of your chapstick and the blood rushing through them.

You smile as he opens his eyes and doesn’t mask the confusion.

“…Yes. Is that a problem?”

You know he’s seriously asking but you like it. The fact that he willingly put on your chapstick.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’. “Just wanted to be sure.”

“Ah. Okay.”

He leans in to kiss you again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You lay down and can’t help your excitement. You pull away with a soft smack and ask, “But why?”.

His eyes narrow suspiciously. You beam up at him and rake your fingers through his slightly dry hair.

“I was curious.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “That was really anticlimactic.”

He sighs and looks down, his head coming down to rest on your stomach.

“I wanted to know… how your- uh… lips felt.”

His voice sounds a bit muffled but you make sense of what his intentions were.

“What?!” You laugh.

He knows you aren’t mocking him but he feels embarrassed. His head shoots back up to face you.

“You’re always putting it on and the tint makes your lips look nice so.” He tries to shrug it off but you’re not having it.

“You mean my lips look absolutely desirable and you’ve always wanted a kiss, hm?”

He groans in embarrassment.

“Fuck you.”

Your teasing has seemed to get the best of him and you gasp at his sudden use of crude language.

“You wish.”

He’s left stunned at your sudden brazenness.

You seize this moment as he’s left distracted and reach up to kiss his lips, making an exaggerated ‘mwah!’ sound.

He grips your shoulders and pushes you back down onto the pillows and you squeal with delight.

He allows himself to smile as he sees the rest of his future in your eyes.

[ficmesideways]

Request for Anonymous Gif Source: Illya

Imagine Illya giving his much shorter S/O forehead kisses

------- Imagine -------

You couldn’t help your smile as you felt his large frame press softly against your back. “Are you ready for bed moya kroshka. He said, his deep accented voice relaxing you further as you leaned against him. “As long as it’s with you, always.” You replied looking up at him, your head barely even reaching his chest. He curled his back then, enveloping you in warmth as his slightly chapped yet soft lips pressed against your forehead several times. You sighed, closing your eyes and feeling the warmth of his breath and the strength of his body surround yours. His large arms wrapped around you, completely surrounding you as he guided both of you to lay in the bed you shared. Feeling his lips press against your hair, your body relaxed slowly into the protective and safe sleep you always found in his arms.

[gomzdrawfr]

Rules: without naming them, post a gif of ten of your favorite films, then tag ten people to do the same

thank you for the tag nekros!!

no pressure tags! (and hello :3)

@karlachismylife @ghostmoon1 @bloodytalefeathers @laswells-ashtray @forestshadow-wolf @beescrafting @panchulien @thechaoticcheese @watusingpaputok @syoddeye

Rules: without naming them, post a gif of ten of your favorite films, then tag ten people to do the same

I was tagged by @shyravenns , thank you so much !!!

Tagging (but no pressure as always) : @on-a-lucky-tide @a-driftamongopenstars @adhdoomed @lialucis @jgvfhl @gomzdrawfr

@hexxedghost @cod-thoughts @crowbarrd

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a list of some spring movies/series 🌷

spring is here!! and so is your friendly neighbourhood little organisation freak of a goblin to give you a list of some spring movies and series. as always, just close your eyes and point somewhere on this little list, or even put the numbers in a generator and go with whatever the result is ♡

summer | autumn | winter

🐝 ‧₊˚ ⋅ movies ⋅˚₊‧

mary poppins (1964)

the sound of music (1965)

aristocats (1970)

alla vi barn i bullerbyn (1986)

my neighbour totoro (1988)

kiki's delivery service (1989)

a league of their own (1992)

the secret garden (1993)

pride and prejudice (1995/2005)

whisper of the heart (1995)

clueless (1995)

my best friend’s wedding (1997)

parent trap (1998)

10 things i hate about you (1999)

notting hill (1999)

she's all that (1999)

but i’m a cheerleader (1999)

bring it on (2000)

miss congeniality (2000)

spiritied away (2001)

someone like you (2001)

the wedding planner (2001)

legally blonde (2001)

princess diaries (2001 + 2004)

spy kids (2001-2003)

maid in manhatten (2002)

bend it like beckham (2002)

tuck everlasting (2002)

school of rock (2003)

how to lose a guy in 10 days (2003)

something’s gotta give (2003)

13 going on 30 (2004)

finding neverland (2004)

howl’s moving castle (2004)

saving face (2004)

the notebook (2004)

imagine me and you (2005)

nanny mcphee (2005)

penelope (2006)

miss potter (2006)

step up (2006)

she’s the man (2006)

bridge to terabithia (2007)

enchanted (2007)

atonement (2007)

stardust (2007)

ps i love you (2007)

wild child (2008)

made of honour (2008)

ondine (2009)

bride wars (2009)

valentine’s day (2010)

leap year (2010)

easy a (2010)

from up on poppy hill (2011)

jane eyre (2011)

crazy, stupid, love (2011)

what to expect when you’re expecting (2012)

remember sunday (2013)

saving mr banks (2013)

about time (2013)

now you see me (2013 + 2016)

love, rosie (2014)

testament of youth (2014)

paddington (2014 + 2017)

far from the madding crowd (2015)

burnt (2015)

brooklyn (2015)

cinderella (2015)

the man from u.n.c.l.e. (2015)

lady chatterley's lover (2015/2022)

creed franchise (2015-2023)

me before you (2016)

mother’s day (2016)

this beautiful fantastic (2016)

the light between oceans (2016)

paterson (2016)

how to be single (2016)

hidden figures (2016)

gifted (2017)

dunkirk (2017)

ocean’s eight (2018)

life itself (2018)

peter rabbit (2018)

christopher robin (2018)

tomb raider (2018)

set it up (2018)

crazy rich asians (2018)

spider-verse movies (2018-)

1917 (2019)

the art of racing in the rain (2019)

can you keep a secret? (2019)

booksmart (2019)

someone great (2019)

endings, beginnings (2019)

emma (2020)

enola holms (2020-)

the last letter from your lover (2021)

the world to come (2021)

we live in time (2024)

🌼 ‧₊˚ ⋅ series ⋅˚₊‧

little house on the prairie (1974-1983)

moomin valley (1990-1992)

greys anatomy (2005-)

gossip girl (2007-2012)

skins (2007-2013)

the great british bake off (2010-)

new girl (2011-2018)

brooklyn nine-nine (2013-2021)

the fosters (2013-2018)

the 100 (2014-2020)

jane the virgin (2014-2019)

outlander (2014-)

the musketeers (2014-2016)

grace and frankie (2015-2022)

poldark (2015-2019)

critical role (2015-)

howards end (2017)

she's gotta have it (2017-2019)

the bold type (2017-2021)

queer eye (2018-)

crash landing into you (2019)

the witcher (2019-)

dickinson (2019-2021)

sex education (2019-2023)

bridgerton (2020-)

ted lasso (2020-2023)

the pursuit of love (2021)

nevertheless (2021)

abbott elementary (2021-)

flatshare (2022)

[vintagetvstars]

Rod Serling Vs. Robert Vaughn

Propaganda

Rod Serling - (The Twilight Zone) - Imagine, if you will, a man taking on issues of totalitarianism and censorship in Cold War America...

Robert Vaughn - (The Man from U.N.C.L.E, The Protectors, Hustle (season 1)) - Although Robert Vaughn always is handsome, he's one of those men whose attractiveness really lives off his facial expressions and also imperfections. You have to see him in action doing subtly silly faces and with his kinda puppy dog eyes and naturally pouty lips. Personally I never know whether I want to hug and comfort him or have him shamelessly flirt with me. And that's hot!

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Rod Serling:

"The writer’s role is to menace the public’s conscience. He must have a position, a point of view. He must see the arts as a vehicle of social criticism and he must focus on the issues of his time." -Rod Serling

Robert Vaughn:

He's hot! He's smart! He got time off being one of the most famous people on tv to go to USC to take night classes and earned a PhD. He was one of, if not the first actors to speak out against the Vietnam War. When the Beatles came to the US the first time they asked to meet him!

[justabigoldnerd]

Thank you so much @cha-melodius for the tag!!!

I feel like I'll be able to get back to "I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)" soon!!!

But for now, here's a bit from "The X-Men From U.N.C.L.E." (again, may or may not remain or become the ship of theseus of scenes lmao)

Solo had never seen a battlefield, but the scene smelled like what he imagined a war zone would. He could almost feel the grit of char in his teeth and clogging his throat. “Mein Gott,” Gaby breathed, bringing up her hand to chew the skin of her nails. The destruction wasn't an unfamiliar sight to her, Solo knew that. Her pain and disbelief lay old and buried. Even so, he pried the other hand from where it gripped the fabric of her coveralls and held it in his. Her voice shook slightly when she whispered, “I'm gonna–”

“Yeah,” Solo nodded in agreement, and Gaby let go of his hand to hurriedly turn off her radio. Then, almost meekly, she took it again and stared down at her lap. The car in front of them slammed on its brakes and the doors were open before it came to a full stop. Solo set his jaw and glanced at the Russian agent to his left. He was watching the chaos with a detached look in his eyes, and made no move to exit the vehicle. ‘I'm going to get out of the car. Will you be alright on your own?’ Gaby startled at the voice in her head, then scoffed. ‘I have managed so far.’ Solo gave her hand a squeeze, then shifted towards Illya, “Could you open your door, please?” “We were ordered to stay,” Illya glared at him stubbornly. “Are you gonna make me crawl over you? Because one way or another I am exiting through that door.” “Fine,” he snarled, and for a brief moment, Solo worried the handle of the door would rip off from the force with which the man pulled it. Illya shouldered it open and ducked out, letting Solo climb out after him. “Thank you kindly,” Solo winked at him, buttoning back his blazer. He didn't dwell on the slight sweetness added to the citric bite of Illya's flustered state.

No pressure tagging @pippinoftheshire @huggiebird @too-young-to-fall-in-love @times-up-alone-tonight @heytheredeann

@yallwildinrn @nicijones @the-golden-comet @thattripleabattery and anyone else who wants to join!!

[spotforme]

YEAH THESE ARE SO COOL !!! FUCKING LOVE ILLYA'S GLASSES <3

I FINISHED NAPOLEON TOOO!!!!! i love them so much!!!!

and a fun version of the two of them!

extra versions below!

it was INCREDIBLY hard to keep the style consistent. I tried my best...

[garyrayl]

THE MAN FROM U.F.O.

"The Man From U.F.O" is a sort of partial bio of a five-year period in my life when, as a teenager, I started a UFO "club" which was called the Unidentified Aerial Phenomena Research Organization (UAPRO). It was started at age 14 in July 1965 and received some significant local publicity in newspapers, radio and television. It ended in 1970 just before my 19th birthday. I met a lot of interesting unique people such as contactees - people that claimed psychic/physical encounters with extraterrestrials they usually claimed were living among humans, some married to them.

This Jefferson Airplane-scored video is by no means complete. It leaves out much but overall I wanted to relate a very unusual experience as a teen that I will always treasure. Bits and pieces of the rest of my history as UAPRO's creator and director will appear as I can find the time and good health to get it posted. I am now 73 years old and not in good health after a stroke. I use a walker and quad cane to get around these olden days, but that's where fond memories come into play. I hope I don't lose my good memories!

So, sit back and watch "The Man From U.F.O." and imagine that in the 1960s only about 15% believed they were ET vehicles. Now the same pollster reports that over 50% believe the phenomenon may represent an ET presence on our planet. Quite a change, but it took 50 years to achieve a greater acceptance of that possibility - which many on the net are convinced it's a certainty while others are just as adamant UFOs (UAP) are highly advanced human technology and most are simply natural and conventional phenomena such as meteors, unusual weather phenomena, balloons, hoaxes, etc.

The video's title is a loose take-off on a very popular TV series, "The Man From U.N.C.L.E" - a 1960s Cold War spy series along the lines of James Bond films. The nation was in the midst of violent and peaceful social change with a nuclear Damocles sword hanging over our advanced ape heads.

Thank you for watching.

[pippinoftheshire]

WIP finally done :) And a sequel already in the works

send HELP!!

lol <3

For those of you who are curious, i imagine Napoleon's dragon form to look a little like a mix of these:

[shoot-i-messed-up]

pls tell us about your ww oc 🙏

omg thank you SO much for asking, anon!!!!

she came about bc I was like, “ykw Diana’s sort of more or less canonically bisexual, she should have her toxic yuri love interest” (um besides Cheetah Ig)

So my wonder woman OC's code name is Agent Thousand (as in, "hero with a thousand faces"). She's a spy for some sort of shadow organization with good-ish intentions that nonetheless comes into conflict with Diana's role as an activist and the diplomat of Themyscira. (If you've read the Yangchen novels, basically imagine this is the DC equivalent of the White Lotus, or perhaps U.N.C.L.E. from the Man from U.N.C.L.E.) you know the "peace as an absense of tension" vs. "peace as the presence of justice" thing? That's their whole dichotomy. Agent Thousand's shadow organization is all about keeping the peace, and that often means keeping the status quo, which Diana, obviously, would clash against as an activist.

Like, say for example, a UN diplomat has died possibly due to foul play, and it could spark a war between two countries that might drag all their neighbors and allies into what could become WW3. Diana, as the Spirit of Truth, might try to come to the bottom of this assassination and bring justice, whereas Agent Thousand and her shadow organization might cover up the assassination.

Agent Thousand is a completely normal baseline human whose "gimmick" is that she's really good at disguising herself and acting as different aliases that I imagine Diana would encounter while she's doing her own stuff. Like, I imagine that this is a running foreshadowing bit for a few arcs before Agent Thousand gets properly introduced to Diana.

I imagine personality wise, she's like Azula + Napoleon Solo + Carmen Sandiego + Harrow the Ninth. (crazy.) Even beyond acting 24/6, Agent Thousand is also kind of a habitual liar and will lie to herself all the time, as another point of contrast between her and Diana. (you can imagine that Agent Thousand has a very complicated relatinoship with Diana's Lasso of Truth). And for another, I imagine that when she's not "on the clock," she's very butch, and she only performs femininity when in various aliases, a contrast to Diana's very natural and confident femininity.

I like to think their dynamic is that they're tragically always almost friends. They're both good people at heart, and they get along when their missions align temporarily and they get to work together for a little, but the problem is that Diana would never betray Themyscira or her morals and Agent Thousand would never betray her organization.

their ship name is...thousandwonders <3

[sseanettles]

okay have some dialogue outlining, the first work in the fic verse will be set after Despereaux’s second episode, once he’s offically out on bail.

It started with the phone call.

“Hello, Shawn.”

“Despereaux?! Hey man, with your reputation, I didn’t think they’d let you make personal calls in prison.”

“While phone privileges are in fact a thing, as I believe you’d say, Shawn, I am not calling you from prison.”

“You sly dog, did you break out again? Y’know, Lassie’s gonna have a cow when he hears—”

“Oh hardly. You see, I’m out on bail, Mr. Spencer. American prisons leave so much to be desired compared to their Canadian counterparts, so I decided I was quite through wasting another second of my life within its walls.”

“Well, naturally. So, what brings your sultry voice to my supple ears?”

“I was wondering if you would like to get dinner tonight, Shawn. On me, of course.”

“Now, I thought the government seized all your assets when they arrested you.”

“They did.”

“…..You’re on.”

“Splendid. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

He takes Shawn to a really good Italian place whose quality does not match its appearance. Frankly, it might be a mob front. It’s an internal maze, bizarre to try to navigate and feels like it is definitely not up to code and somehow bigger on the inside. The owner, super jovial, incredibly loud in the manner of the half deaf, and highly spirited, knows Pierre by name and insists that everything is on the house.

“And how do you know that guy?”

“Oh, quite simple, really. Met a man who knew a man (indicates their host) who needed a little job done on the inside, so I took the commission.

“You shanked a guy?!”

“Shawn.”

“Stole a priceless heirloom.”

“Does this appear to be my demographic of client?”

“Prison smuggling ring!” Pierre gives him a look. “You adopted a little orphan boy from the circus and trained him to be your partner-in-tights—”

“I smuggled family photos to a man in solitary confinement. He’d not seen them in five years.”

“…Oh. Wow. That’s, uh….”

“Lovely husband, as you’ve seen, and two very beautiful children, six and eight each. Cherubic, the sort of little creatures you’d see in TV advertisments, you know?”

“You a kid guy?”

“No…no, not with my, ah, lifestyle.”

“No, I can imagine the papoose would ruin the whole Man From U.N.C.L.E. vibe.”

“Indeed.”

“That’s really nice of you.”

“I can be a nice man.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I said nice. Not kind.”

“Touché.”

“And besides, if being nice always secured me rewards the likes of a lifetime access to deliciously authentic Sicilian food, why…I’d be nice all the live-long day. But as you well know, it does not and so I am not.”

“Nice.”

“Precisely.”

so yeah anyway, I’m gonna be writing that behemoth of a leverage-psych crossover AU verse consisting of multiple fics of varying lengths, and I will be embracing the poly shawn, “see you around/in the next town” shespereaux in addition to shules bc shawn has two hands and also pierre would have THRIVED in a leverage/person of interest type universe thank you very much. It is his original genre before he fell through the cracks into this frickin’ looney tunes nonsense XD

[ncisfranchise-source]

How can NCIS Season 21 best pay tribute to original cast member David McCallum, who died on Monday at age 90?

McCallum played chief medical examiner-turned-NCIS Historian Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard for all 20 seasons, most recently appearing (remotely) in the final two episodes of Season 20 last spring. He had been the show’s last remaining original cast member following the exit of series lead Mark Harmon early in Season 19. (Sean Murray in Season 1 only recurred as McGee.)

“For over 20 years, David McCallum endeared himself to audiences around the world playing the wise, quirky, and sometimes enigmatic, Dr. Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard,” NCIS executive producers Steven D. Binder and David North said in a statement. “But as much as his fans may have loved him, those who worked side by side with David loved him that much more …. From Day 1, it was an honor to work with him and he never let us down. He was, quite simply, a legend.”

The character of Ducky as of late was largely off-screen, ostensibly on a globe-trotting book tour; his most recent video consultation was delivered from a stop in Edinburgh. So on the one hand, the NCIS writers may decide to emulate what, say, Call Me Kat did for the late Leslie Jordan and simply have Ducky continue to live an idyllic off-camera existence.

Or, the well-watched CBS drama might choose to better honor McCallum — whose acting legacy spanned nearly 70 years and also included memorable roles on The Man From U.N.C.L.E., Sapphire & Steel and other TV shows — by giving the longtime NCIS team member an emotional sendoff of his own.

If NCIS takes the latter, sadder route, which faces from the show’s past do you think should be on hand to pay the good doctor their last respects? We have a few suggestions, followed by a poll where you can express your own wishes….

Mark Harmon as Gibbs

LAST APPEARED: Gibbs was tooling around in his newly finished boat when it shockingly went “boom” in the Season 18 finale. In the fourth episode of Season 19 — after Gibbs, McGee et al solved the case of a contract killer hired by a conglomerate to clear the way for an environment-poisoning copper mine  — “boss” decided to stay put in “the middle of nowhere,” in Alaska, where the multi-episode arc had led him.

CHARACTER STATUS: As EP Steven Binder told TVLine a year ago, “There’s this feeling among the writing staff — and I share it — that we left [Gibbs] sort of nowhere but also everywhere. Like, when I think of Gibbs, I don’t think of him living in an apartment in Alaska. Instead, I imagine he’s sort of melted into pixie dust and is floating around in the sky until he is called back to duty.”

What better “call to duty” than to pay D.C. a quick visit to say a proper farewell to longtime friend and esteemed colleague “Duck”?

Michael Weatherly as Tony

LAST APPEARED: Original cast member Weatherly’s run ended with the Season 13 finale, after Tony learned that longtime romantic interest Ziva David had years earlier — prior to her “death” — given birth to their daughter, Tali. Weatherly has often teased some sort of NCIS encore (sometimes even a “Tiva” two-fer), but even in the wake of Bull‘s cancellation, that has not yet come to fruition.

CHARACTER STATUS: As detailed in the “Ziva” recap below, Tony and Tali presumably enjoyed a reunion with Ziva sometime in late Season 17. Since both former NCIS agents really should be on hand for any Ducky remembrance, the series could deliver some overdue fan service along the way.

Pauley Perrette as Abby

LAST APPEARED: Original cast member Perrette’s NCIS run ended after 15 seasons, in May 2018.

CHARACTER STATUS: After Clayton Revees fatally took a bullet for her during a seemingly random (but not) street mugging, Abby committed herself to following in the MI6 agent’s footsteps by shepherding a charity for homeless women. She then accompanied Reeves’ body back to his London home, before embarking on this new chapter in her life. Abby, like Ducky, was all about the science, so it’d be odd to not hear from her, in some way, in any sendoff episode. (She just might not share a scene with Gibbs.)

Cote de Pablo as Ziva

LAST APPEARED: After exiting NCIS at the start of Season 11 (ending an eight-season run), de Pablo’s enigmatic Ziva most unexpectedly resurfaced in the Season 16 finale, then recurred in a handful of Season 17 episodes.

CHARACTER STATUS: In de Pablo’s mid-Season 17 mini-arc, Gibbs helped Ziva with the “one thing” she needed to tend to before reuniting with Tony and their daughter Tali: making sure that Adam Eshel was OK. Once that was handled, Ziva told Gibbs that she had slipped word to Tony to get Tali into hiding, and that once he and Tali are safe and settled, she would reach out. So presumably the DiNozzo-Davids are reunited and well. But having one show up to honor Ducky without the other could be narratively clunky.

Emily Wickersham as Ellie

LAST APPEARED: In the Season 18 finale, “Rule 91” (as in the Gibbs rule, “When you walk away, don’t look back”)

CHARACTER STATUS: Special Agent Bishop famously — and abruptly! — dipped on romantic interest Nick Torres and the rest of NCIS at large in order to prep for a super-secret undercover op on behalf of Odette, a former CIA operative and Ziva David’s onetime cohort. While it’d be nice to somehow bring Ellie in “from the cold,” it might create more closure issues with Nick than any one guest spot can resolve.

Maria Bello as Dr. 'Jack' Sloane

LAST APPEARED: Bello’s swan song as forensic psychologist Jack Sloane aired in March 2021, ending a three-season run.

CHARACTER STATUS: Jack had hinted that she was leaving NCIS to retire to “Costa Rica”; instead, she stayed put in Afghanistan after a mission with Gibbs, to continue a friend’s work protecting young girls from abduction by the Taliban. Having been around for Ducky’s transition from Chief M.E. to NCIS Historian, it’d be fitting to hear from Jack again.

Adam Campbell as 'Young Ducky'

LAST APPEARED: Campbell’s fourth turn as Young Donald Mallard, in flashbacks, aired early in Season 18.

CHARACTER STATUS: Alive and well… in the past. But what a sweet touch it could be to serve up even the briefest new flashback to bring the good doctor’s colorful story full circle.

Bob Newhart as Ducky's mentor, Dr. Walter Magnus

LAST APPEARED: In the mid-Season 8 episode “Recruited” — the esteemed guest star’s only NCIS visit thus far.

CHARACTER STATUS: Out there in the world somewhere, though Newhart, now age 94, hasn’t acted on a TV series since an April 2020 episode of Young Sheldon.

[runner-beans]

4 Vignettes With No Kissing & 1 Ex-Yacht by captain_starcat

Rating: General Audiences

Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Relationship: Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo

Summary: Ft. pining, paperwork, rumors, the collective wild imagination of the Costume Department, a questionable beach, and some kissing (eventually)

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Got You (Napoleon x Reader)

This is the third time i’m trying to post this fucking thing, tumblr won’t let the posts I do from my laptop under search results but they will show posts I do from my phone. Anyways, enjoy!

“This better be worth it Waverly”

“Ohhh (y/n) dear trust me it will. Let me introduce you to your new colleagues”

As she walked in the room with one big desk and a few chairs, three of them were occupied by two men and one woman, probably in her 20s. Her eyes however focused on one particular man.... The man that was one of the reasons you thrived in the illegal field.

“This is Miss Gaby Teller, the most important person in this case, next to her is mister Illya  Kuryakin, her supposed fiance and-”

“Napoleon Solo. The thief”

She bitterly interrupted Waverly, he was of course aware of (y/n)’s past with Napoleon, it was one of the reasons he requested her to join this case, keeping from her that piece of information of course. 

“(y/f/n), you’ve grown up”

“you got old”

“Right, now that everyone knows each other, (y/n) please take a seat and i’ll explain the plan”

As she took a seat from the other side of the table, directly in front of Napoleon, she tried to focus on Waverly and ignore Napoleons intense stare that almost drilled a hole on the side of her head.

“Ok, so since Illya is here to be the love interest for Gaby and Napoleon is here to just get some Italian legs in the air, what am I here for?”

“You dear (y/l/n), you will be portraying miss Brigitte Richard, an heir to the Richard well know Cigar, he is a close friend of mine and graciously agreed to take his daughters name”

“Won’t they know what his daughter looks like?”

“His daughter has been kept away from the public eye and she had transferred in Britain during high school, that’s also where she went to College and recently decided to stay there. I will give you a file of hers to study. Your goal is to get close to Victoria vinciguerra during the event, maybe even seem interested in mister Solo, of course for show, nothing more”

“Of course, everything is only just for show when it has to do with Napoleon”

-

(Y/n) was dressed in her best attire, her long red dress that hugged her waist so beautifully, of course some silver diamond earrings on her ears and her hair up in a perfect updo, her heels were comfortable at least, but if she had to run the dress would not hold for long until it gives a show to anyone around her, she prays that it didn’t have to happen, or she would be royally screwed,

“Miss Richard , your father was right you do have your mothers eyes”

What a fool, she thought, this is who she was hiding from? a woman that complimented her for the resemblance in her eyes.... she wasn’t even close to being related to this people. However, on the outside, she smiled brightly at the tall blonde lady

“Thank you so much, god rest her soul she at least she was generous enough to pass them down to me, my dads brown eyes are great but a tad bit boring don’t you think?”

The blonde gave a tight lip smile to her comment. Of course, if she knew that her real parent had never seen this type of luxury, the lady wouldn’t even spare a glance.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Victoria Vinciguerra”

“Brigitte Richard, my father made sure to keep me away from all of... this, he wanted his kids to be humble”

“I’m really sorry for your brother”

“It’s alright, I miss him but... c’est la vie”

(Y/n) had almost swallowed the file Waverly had given her, she even looked into the cigar company, just in case anyone asked questions. As the two ladies kept talking, she started hearing commotion,she turned her head  towards the direction it was coming from and saw one familiar man falling to the ground.

“What is going on over there?”

“Excuse me dear”

Victoria started walking towards him and of course (y/n) followed. When they finally reached the crowd that was already forming a circle around him, there he was fanning himself the invitation dramatically, in true Napoleon fashion. (Y/n) kissed her teeth in annoyance, he was supposed to discreetly blend in, not cause a god damn ruckus the minute he walks in.

“Thank you, Thank you”

“I wonder what they do to people without invitations”

That is when she decided to take actions. She weaseled her way out of the crowd and kneeled in front of him to his level, offering her glass of champagne to him.

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, thank you very much Darling”

“I’m Victoria Vinciguerra, she is (y/f/n). I do believe an apology is in order. I’ll take it from here”

You helped him get up on his feet and took two steps to lean in and talked to her.

“of course miss Vinciguerra... next one is mine”

She giggled as she walked away in triumphant. To be frank the rest of your job was to keep an eye on these two, yet she could still say she completed the most important part.What she didn’t expect was the growing fire in the pit of her stomach that was directed to Victoria, looking at her talking to Napoleon so nonchalantly made her teeth hurt and her breasts ached with rage.

“It’s such a lovely day to be so pouty miss”

“Well sir... there is nothing really here for me to smile about”

“Not even me?”

“I think I am better off being the reason for someone to smile”

“Roberto  Russo, charmed”

“Brigitte Richard”

Roberto was a handsome man, tall, light brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp jawline, full lips and extremely well dressed, no doubt he knew his way around women and money. What a better distraction and cover up than him?

What (y/n) had not calculated was Napoleon picking up at her “strategic” flirt and filling like punching the hell out of this pretentious little Italian boy that grew up spending daddy’s money. He restrained himself from walking over to her and taking her hand, guiding her away from everyone, keeping her all to herself.

“I saw you were talking to my aunt”

“Oh you are related to Victoria?”

“Yes, my dad is her brother. I actually haven’t spoken to her today, come with me?”

“How could I ever refuse?”

As he offered his arm she smiled and linked hers with his, walking over with her head held high as they got close to Napoleon and Victoria

“My dearest Roberto, how are you?”

she kissed her nephew at both of his cheeks and yet no smile was shown. She really was cold, Roberto however smiled brightly, feeling excited to show his knew “catch” to his aunt.

“I’m doing well... who might he be?”

“Jack Devinsky, Nice to meet you”

Roberto looked at Napoleon up and down, almost well not almost... judging him harshly. Napoleons sure looked rich but there were levels to how rich you were, especially when men judged one another.

“Roberto Russo. Well... aunt Victoria may I occupy you for a minute”

“Of course, anything for my nephew”

“It will only take a minute dear”

“I am counting”

She replied at him, he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss as he stared directly in her eyes, winking at her as she left her with Napoleon. They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, they haven’t really spoken since the case started, (y/n) made sure to avoid him.

“You look stunning if that isn’t obvious”

“Thanks”

She said dryly. She barely even looked him in the eye, all she could see was that damn night, the night she lost everything, the night her heart shuttered, the night he showed her all the cruelty of the world he always talked about.

“You are mad at me”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it still upsets me though”

“That sounds like a personal issue to me”

-

The event was a success. which meant (y/n) could finally relax and wear her pajamas, pour a drink for herself and lounge in the couch her room had. She still wore his necklace, the gold star necklace he had bought her way back when... she took the charm in her hands and felt the cold metal.

How much more could she take with him around? it took her so much time to heal and now here he was again, scratching the wounds she had closed up all by herself. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at her door. She got up to answer it and was met with the man of the hour.

“Napoleon”

“May I come in?”

She sighed before stepping aside to let him in. Even when all she wanted was to punch him in the face, her heart took over her and let him walk into her room and her life once again, even when she had swore to take revenge when she saw him again.

“What do you want?”

“To talk”

“About what?”

She was well aware she was snapping at him, could you blame her? He had swore to protect her, help her when she had nothing and no one, taught her everything and then one night she came home to find all his belongings missing... and that damn letter tore her apart, she didn’t sleep for days, she waited for him to return for months and yet he never did.

“(Y/n) I know-”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING

”her voice booming through the entire room, it was like a glass of emotions was overflowing, threating to spill and make a mess. He saw the pain in her face, her lower lips trembling, her hands forming fists... still what caught his eye was one thing, the necklace. She was wearing his necklace, after all these years she didn’t throw it away. He took a breath through his nose before continuing.

“(y/n) you have every right to be upset-”

“Damn right I do”

“Will you just listen?”

“listen to what Napoleon?! What?!What?!What?!”

Next thing that was heard was her glass smashing at the wall, Vodka dripping down and small pieces of glass going everywhere. Napoleon was shocked, he should have known this wouldn’t be easy, he had wanted to reach out to her over the years, he had even went through with finding her, yet every time he chickened out last minute and walked away from it. Now, here she was in pain, yelling and smashing things... she had become his enemy

“I’m sorry”

“You are sorry? Sorry? for what Napoleon? for leaving me? for doing it in such cruel way? for lying to me?”

“I never lied”

“You swore to me that you loved me, that you... cared”

There it was, tears. She couldn’t even control it, as her voice cracked and the waterfalls started, she didn’t also want to cover them, she wanted him to see what he had done... to hell with being the bigger person. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, make her feel loved but now all he could do was to try and reason with her.

“I had to leave”

“Why? What could possibly be the reason... money? paintings? women?”

“You know I would never cheat on you”

“Oh yeah, cause leaving our house in the middle of the night is so much better”

She tried wipe away her tears, silence falling between them once again. As a way to calm and hide her emotions, she kneeled and started picking up pieces of glass, her back turned to him. Napoleon went to her side and even when he wanted to pick her up and kiss her, he controlled his desire

“(Y/n) stop, you’ll cut yourself”

“I’m fine Napoleon”

“(Y/n) the maid can do it”

“I said I’m- FUCK”

a piece of sharp glass had cut her as she accidentally gripped it a bit too hard. Napoleon saw the blood and got up immediately to find some tissues, while (y/n) got on her feet and brought her hand close to her chest, closing it to a fist as a way to stop the pain. When Napoleon approached she turned her back once again

 “I said I’m fine”

“(Y/n) you are bleeding, let me care for you”

She had started crying again. As she turned around and opened her hand to him Napoleon gently placed the tissues on the wound, dabbing away the blood carefully.

“Why did you leave?”

“I thought I was protecting you, a way to keep you away from all of the things I was doing”

“Yet... here we are”

He looked up at her. Her lower lip was in between her teeth, tears freshly running down, her beautiful eyes were now red and puffy, her nose was running and he still found her heavenly.

“You kept the necklace”

“I tried throwing it away, or ponding it... I couldn’t find the courage... it’s too pretty”

“I tried coming back to you... multiple times”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t”

She finally kept eye contact with him, getting lost once again in those ocean blue eyes, the eyes she looked at when they were laying naked on their bed, the eyes that looked at her when she woke up. With his one hand Napoleon slowly reached over and wiped a few tears with his thumb

“You are too pretty to cry over me”

“I missed you Napoleon”

She whispered looking down on the ground in embarrassment. She was everything he ever wanted, a woman that loved him and had his back and he tossed that all away, his intentions were pure yet the damage was gigantic. He hesitated for a minute, before taking her in his arms for a hug, her head nuzzling on his neck as she held on to him for the first time in what felt like centuries. Napoleon kissed her head, smelling her shampoo that was always the same, lavender.

“I missed you too munchkin”

She giggled at the nickname. Napoleon had met her when she was struggling to survive, she was this delicate little thing that looked everyone with kind eyes, yet once he got to know her he saw the passion, the fire, the potential she had to become something great, he didn’t want all that potential to go on illegal things that could possibly get her in jail or worse kill her. So from the beginning of the relationship he called her munchkin.

“Will we be alright?”

“I got you munchkin, I got you”

[cosmik-homo]

Imagine being a gay late victorian Intellectualote trying to find fulfillment through / going through a mid life crisis with the hell of Aliens and you and your man get transported into 1968 and he becomes really busy so you get into watch8ng TV (<- canonically in the last episode I watched he was by the phone trying to call Jago over and over and then going well... I guess it's another lonely night.... its the library or Man From U.N.C.L.E for me..)

And you turn on the TV and see reruns of Amok Time, or The Naked Time, or whatever. Like you've had beef with Oscar Wilde you've lived an entire, relatively lonely life like this just a quiet blending in and putsuit of your work and you see SPOCK. Unhinged. I would be unbearable

cant believe tos only began airing in the UK in 1969. Professor George Litefoot needs to be in his victorian study projecting onto blorbo from his shows (spock)

[make-me-imagine]

Sweaters and Hot Cocoa

Prompts: “Hot cocoa” and “Wearing their sweater/hoodie”

Pairing: GN!Reader x Illya Kuryakin

Requested by: @katconway​

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff with a little pining         Words: 1,518

Post about Fall/Halloween Requests: Here

You took a deep breath as you walked down the cobblestone streets of the small English town. The trees lining the streets dropped the occasional brown and orange leaves as you gazed up at them. A small smile formed on your face as the crisp air sent a chill through your body.  You chastised yourself for not having worn something warmer, your arms breaking out in goosebumps.

Illya glanced over at you, his eyes lit up slightly as he saw the small genuine smile on your face as you admired the trees. The rapid beating of his heart at the sight sent a pang of annoyance through him as he silently reprimanded himself, unconsciously he huffed out, causing you to look over at him.

“Whats wrong?”

Your voice filling the previous silence caught him of guard, meeting your somewhat concerned gaze, he realized he made his frustration audible. Clearing his throat he quickly came up with an excuse, which luckily was not a lie.

“I hate that we lost our mark”

Your gaze lingered on his features for a moment as you looked away “Well, we had no idea he was going to enter the festival. There were way to many people to possible keep track of him. We’ll find him later”

Illya nodded his head “Yes. I know”

Continuing to walk down the street in silence, your eyes landed on the approaching shop and restaurant lined street. Your eyes landed on the sign of a small coffee shop, side glancing at Illya you wondered if he would be willing to stop. As a chilly breeze blew past, you took the opportunity.

“We should get some cocoa” you suggested

“Cocoa?” he questioned, looking over at you.

You pointed at the coffee shop you were approaching “It’s getting cold, and we’ve been walking all day. We should take a break” you looked over at him, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile and somewhat pleading eyes. 

That familiar look, that he often wished was only ever meant for him, sent another rapid pulse through his chest. You both stopped walking as he turned towards you after looking at the coffee shop, glancing at your arms he could see the goosebumps on your arms. Why you didn’t bring a jacket he did not know. Looking back at the coffee shop he let out a small smile “Fine. But we must not stay too long” he spoke bluntly and with authority, though he knew if you asked, he would stay forever if you wanted. He turned to continue walking, giving you another glance, seeing a wide smile spread across your face. 

As you made your way to the coffee shop, you saw from the corner of your eye, the smile that Illya tried his best to hide. You knew he had a soft spot for you, but why he did still confused you. You would not let yourself hope that it was the same reason you had much more than a soft spot for him. 

Entering into the coffee shop, your senses where overwhelmed with the intense smells of pumpkin, cinnamon, coffee and sweet pastries. 

“Mmm” you hummed as you looked over at Illya smiling at him. This time he could not suppress it, and returned a gentle smile to your jovial grin as you wandered over to the counter. 

After ordering and receiving your cocoa, along with two warm sweet scones. You looked around for somewhere to sit, your eyes landing on a table just outside of the shop “Come on” you said before leading Illya to the outside table.

As you sat Illya eyed you “I thought you said you were cold?”

“I like the crisp air” you smiled “And if you get too cold we can always go back inside”

“I do not get cold” he said as he sat down, his Russian accent thick with his bold claim.

You chuckled lightly at his exclamation before smelling your cocoa, the sweet chocolaty scent sending a chill through you. Illya watched you as you took a sip, relishing in the taste and smiling lightly to yourself. It took more strength than he was willing to admit to pull his eyes away from you. You enjoyed things so purely that he could not help but admire you. 

As you finished taking a sip of your cocoa, you thought you caught Illya staring at you. But ignoring the fluttering in your chest at the thought you took a small bite from your scone. Your gaze moved to what horizon you could see through the buildings, the yellowing of the sky telling you the evening was drawing near.

A gentle breeze blew a few leaves off of the tree above you, the cold chill causing you to shiver slightly. Though subtle, it did not go unnoticed by Illya. 

“Why did you not wear a jacket?”

Looking at him you defending yourself “It was not cold when we left this morning”

“But you knew it would be cold this evening”

“And were you aware that we would still be out here this evening?”

He paused as he realized you were right, you were supposed to be done with your job hours earlier, but your target moved later than expected, and after loosing him, you wandered the streets for even longer. 

“No” he admitted as he tapped his fingers on his cup.

“Exactly” you smiled at him. 

He would normally be annoyed at being proven incorrect, and even though you were amused by it, he could find no anger in himself to target at you. 

As another breeze blew past sending an obvious chill over you he sighed as he stood from his seat. You had been looking down into your drink, and were startled by the sudden weight on your shoulder. Looking up you see Illya draping his open-faced sweater over your cold figure.

“Oh-” you muttered out as he moved to sit back down. Trying to hide the flushing of your face you adjusted the sweater “Thank you”

He did not miss the bashful reaction, but was distracted by his own. “You’re welcome” 

“Are you sure you wont need it?” you asked.

He shook his head “No. As I said, I do n-”

“Don’t get cold” you finished for him.

Meeting your eyes for a moment, both of you smiled as you chuckled, he cleared his throat “Correct” 

After finishing your cocoa and scones, the sky was darkening and the atmosphere growing colder. Leaving the coffee shop, you continued down the road towards your hotel. Illya looked around “We should get a taxi”

“Why?”

He looked down at you “You are cold”

You were amused and touched by his sentiment, but shook your head, adjusting the sweater he gave you and smiling at him as you pulled at it “Not anymore”

He had to hide his own blush as he looked away “I see. But-”

“I like this” you cut him off “The cold night, walking down the streets” you observed your surroundings before casually linking your arm into his, catching him of guard. “Its nice” you finished, continuing to look down the street.

He stared at your profile, his heart hammering in his chest, his gaze moved down to your arm that you had wrapped through his. Clearing his throat lightly, he adjusted his arm and body slightly so that your bodies were closer as you walked, arms linked. 

“Yes. I agree. It is nice”

Your walk back to the hotel took longer than it should have, both of you walking a bit slower, both of your silently wanting to spend more time in each others company. After finally escorting you to your room he bowed slightly at you “Goodnight Y/n”

“Goodnight, oh-” realizing you were still wearing his sweater, you moved to take it off “Here-” 

“No-” he held up his hand, making you stop “Keep it. Uh, if you, get cold again, I would prefer to know, you had something...” he stuttered out an excuse, embarrassed by the poor claim, of course you had your own sweaters and jackets, why would you want to keep his?

Instead of refusing or laughing at him as he feared you would, you smiled at him before quickly pressing a quick kiss to his cheek “Thank you Illya. Goodnight” you finished as you slipped into your room. Leaving the large Russian frozen in shock outside your door.

Quickly re-cooperating he straightened himself before clearing his throat “Goodnight” he whispered softly, a smile covered his face before he turned, heading to his own room just down the hall. 

As you closed your door behind you, leaning against it, you heard his faint “Goodnight” before hearing his footsteps fading. 

You smiled to yourself before taking a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Looking down at the sweater, you gently grabbed the cloth and brought it to your face, smelling it. You smiled at the familiar scent of cologne, mixed with the scent of cocoa that had somehow ingrained itself in the knitted cloth. You wondered how long it would last before fading. You hope it would last forever, or at least at long as the memory of tonight.

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