#hope this doesnt flop like how i feel 90% of my one shots do ajkdshkasdjasd

[myriadimagines]

Trust Me

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Illya Kuryakin

Other Characters: Napoleon Solo

Warnings: Violence, torture, death and injury

Request: “A little last minute, but I would really like to request a one-shot with Illya Kuryakin, where the reader is an american agent and they have to work together on a case, and first they don't like each other, but the case goes bad and it goes dangerous and they have to realize they fell for each other and in the end they admit it. Thank you, you are so amazing I can't even describe. Really, thank you for doing all this for us ❤❤❤” — anonymous

Word Count: 3,909

A/N: Oof so I’m sick while I’m writing this and not feeling too good but your little message made me smile so thank you so much lovely 💞I hope you like it! Sorry it’s a little long (I’m pretty sure this is the longest thing I’ve ever written on this blog yikes but I needed ~time~ to develop the relationship from hate to love ya feel) and the technology is not very accurate akjshdkjasd I ended up liking this a lot more than I thought I would

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

You had heard stories about Illya Kuryakin. Former KGB agent now affiliated with U.N.C.L.E.. You had never met him, even after recently transferring from the CIA to U.N.C.L.E., although you had heard plenty from your colleague, Napoleon. However, all the stories in the world couldn’t prepare you for when you met him the first time, and learned you were partnered with him for your first mission with U.N.C.L.E..

Despite knowing he was on your team, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy working with Illya. Back at the CIA, there were only a handful of agents you worked with, although you mostly worked alone. Working with Illya felt like a test you weren’t prepared for, an unknown factor, and you didn’t like the idea of having someone you couldn’t trust watching your back on a mission. Illya obviously seemed to pick up on your distrust, something which quickly created tension in your relationship, even before the mission started.

“Isn’t he supposed to be your partner?” you argued, folding your arms tightly across your chest as Illya’s head snapped towards you, evidently offended that you had reduced him to Napoleon’s partner. The three of you were in the briefing room, where Napoleon was explaining the mission to you and Illya. The mission required you and Illya to go undercover as a couple in Paris, where you would be shadowing your target, Adam Moreau, who was rumored to be purchasing dangerous, chemical weaponry.

“I am not his partner.” Illya clarified, his comment falling upon deaf ears as you and Napoleon ignored him.

“Look, I don’t see what the big deal is. The target and his agency know me already, so the minute I’m spotted they’ll know we’re onto them. Your time in the CIA was mostly covert, and they don’t know you now work for U.N.C.L.E., so they won’t recognize you. Illya will be your backup and part of your disguise, which is essential.” Napoleon leaned against the desk, arching an eyebrow at you as if challenging you to continue arguing with him. “Besides, Peril isn’t that bad of a partner.”

“Fine!” you exclaimed, glaring at Napoleon as he flashed you a triumphant smirk. You looked over your shoulder at Illya, who frowned at you, and you pushed past him to prepare for your trip.

“This is not going to go well.” Illya grumbled, pointing an accusatory finger at Napoleon, who let out a chuckle as he turned to rearrange some files on his desk.

“Really? I think it’s going to go perfectly.” Napoleon replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You and y/n make a perfect match.”

—

You and Illya sat silently in the taxi on the way to the hotel. Illya had an arm around your seat, a stiff gesture supposedly meant to contribute to your disguises. Your hands were folded tensely in your lap as you stared out the window, focusing on the buildings instead of Illya. You could feel him shifting in his seat, his leg lightly brushing yours as he opened his mouth, attempting to make conversation but no words left his lips. By the time your reached the hotel, you had practically run away from Illya in an attempt to escape the suffocating tension in the air.

Your entire travels had been similar. You had barely spoken on the airplane, gruffly exchanging one worded conversations and nodding at each other in acknowledgement when you’d pass a file to him. The both of you stood rigidly beside each other while waiting for the taxi, looking more like business partners than the married couple you were supposed to be. Even the concierge flashed the two of you uneasy smiles as you checked into your room, barely acknowledging each other as you grabbed your backs and headed up to the room, rushing ahead of Illya.

Illya slammed the door behind him as he entered the room, storming out to the balcony where you were standing, leaning against the railing as you looked at the city down below. You didn’t bother to look over your shoulder as Illya folded his arms angrily across his chest, demanding, “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the view.” you replied curtly, and you could hear Illya scoff behind you. Such a small noise normally wouldn’t have bothered you, but you could feel annoyance rising in your chest as you spun around, shooting Illya a look as you snapped, “Is that a problem?”

“The problem is that you are ruining our cover.” Illya replied, his voice low and venomous as he stepped closer to you. You rolled your eyes, clearly unfazed by the infamous Illya temper, which you had heard plenty about from Napoleon. You didn’t flinch as he practically pressed up against you, his gaze burning down on you as he continued, “You barely look at me, and this is the most words we’ve exchanged in the past twenty four hours. You treat me like the enemy instead of your ally. We are supposed to act married.”

“There’s no need to keep up appearances when we’re not around the target.” you scowled at Illya, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Don’t act stupid, y/n, you never know when they’re watching.” Illya pointed out, the anger in his tone still prominent as you jerked back at his insult. “You are being immature and jeopardizing our mission-”

“I’m being immature?” you exclaimed, outrage bubbling from your throat. “You haven’t been the most forthcoming, either!”

Illya opened his mouth, raising his finger as if to scold you, but a loud knock at the door distracted the both of you. You instinctively reached for your gun, noticing Illya had mirrored your movements, before the both of you quickly relaxed as a meek voice called out, “Room service!”

You and Illya exchanged glances, the unresolved anger from your argument still lingering, as Illya called for the maid to come in. Suddenly self conscious about how close Illya was as the maid entered, flashing you a warm smile, you could feel your cheeks getting hot as Illya wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Improvising, you rested a hand on Illya’s chest as the maid explained she had brought a clean pillow she had forgotten to drop off earlier. The both of you turned around, pretending to enjoy the view as the maid quickly scuttled toward the bed to place the pillow before leaving. As soon as you heard the door click shut, your hand slid away from Illya’s chest as he smoothed out his shirt.

“That looked more believable.” Illya finally spoke, his shoulders tense. You could tell he was still angry, frustration still bubbling behind his eyes, but his subtle comment acted like a peace offering, a chance to make amends. He studied your expression as you debated your response, yet you weren’t ready to so easily dispel the obvious tension between the two of you.

“Don’t get used to it.” you simply responded, moving past him. Illya let out a quiet sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as you paused, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “I only work with people I trust, or I work alone. And I don’t know if I can trust you yet.”

You retreated into the bathroom to change into a different outfit, and Illya shook his head as he leaned up against the balcony railing as he mumbled to himself, “What do I have to do to show you can trust me?”

—

The first few days of the mission were uneventful. Your days were mostly filled with shadowing your target and his associates, exerting minimal effort to upkeep your appearance as a couple. Both you and Illya had warmed up to your covers, getting slightly more comfortable in public, but in private, things were still icy. Illya spent his nights sleeping on the couch, the both of you savoring your nights as they were the only times you could have some degree of privacy. Every now and then, Illya would make some attempt to patch things up, yet you kept your guard up, refusing to let him break it down. The amount of arguments between the two of you had lowered, yet the hostile silence somehow felt worse.

You tried to push Illya out of your thoughts as you crouched behind the crates you were standing behind, making sure not to be seen as two men walked by. Peeking through the cracks, you watched as they loaded two boxes onto an unmarked truck. Reaching for your radio device, you quietly whispered, “They’re loading something into the truck. I’m going to go investigate.”

“There is no sign of Moreau.” Illya’s voice filtered through the radio. While you were in the alleyway, Illya was in the building out front looking for any sign of Moreau, who you predicted would be here to oversee the transportation. Illya needed to take some photos of Moreau with the chemicals for the headquarters, while you needed to stop the chemicals from being transported. You grabbed your gun, preparing to hijack the truck when to your surprise, Illya added, “Be careful.”

You frowned, opening your mouth to come up with a snarky comeback when you heard the familiar click of a gun behind you. You gulped, freezing as someone behind you snapped, “Get up.”

You could heard Illya’s concerned voice from the radio as he asked, “y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Not having time to respond, you quickly spun around, shooting the henchman in the foot. He yelped in pain as you smacked him across the face with your gun, rendering him unconscious. The gunshot alerted the other henchmen of your presence, and they quickly loaded the chemicals onto the truck before signalling the driver to go. You rushed after them, ducking behind a wall as you tried to shoot the tires of the truck. You let out a frustrated groan as you missed, allowing the truck to speed around the corner, out of your view. You turned around to aim at the two henchmen who were firing at you, cursing when you fired off one shot before you ran out of bullets. Just as the henchmen drew nearer, the gunfire suddenly ceased, and you looked up to see Illya standing over the bodies of the fallen henchmen.

“You left your post.” you spluttered, unsure of what else to say. Illya rolled his eyes as he examined the bodied before straightening. “What if Moreau was there?”

“Saving the life of my partner was more important.” Illya gruffly responded before glancing over his shoulder. You were momentarily speechless, taken aback by his answer before he continued, “Come on, we have to go.”

—

The both of you sat in the hotel room, a newfound awkwardness in the air. You still hadn’t thanked Illya for saving you, and it felt like the window of opportunity had passed after you had left the alleyway, and it seemed strange to bring it up again. Neither of you had spoken, and Illya was fixing himself a drink, before you noticed he reached for another glass for you. Before you could say anything, he walked over to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed, offering you the drink.

You nodded at him as Illya clinked his glass against yours before taking a sip. To your surprise, he sat beside you, savoring his drink as the both of you stared ahead.

Illya’s actions had surprised you. The fact that he had come back for you, instead of sticking to the mission, shocked you. You didn’t know how to interpret it, in terms of what it meant for the both of you and what it told you about his personality, but you couldn’t help but suddenly feel closer to him.

“I was betrayed.” you suddenly revealed, and Illya looked up at you in surprise. The words had so easily escaped your lips, and you knew it was too late to go back. You glanced over at him, before quickly looking away as you continued, “By someone I really trusted, too. The mission was ruined, obviously, and I almost got killed. But that… that wasn’t the worst part. That simple betrayal ruined everything for me. I was never able to trust anyone afterwards, because… because if my own partners, people who are supposed to have my back, can turn against me, then who am I supposed to turn to?”

“You have me.” Illya immediately replied, his tone firm as he instinctively reached for your hand. You flinched, looking up at him in surprise, taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes. “You can trust me, y/n, I promise. I will prove it to you as many times as I need to.”

A small smile flickered onto your lips, and despite every voice in your head, every defensive, skeptical voice in your head which had driven you to distrust others yelled at you to pull away, something inside of you felt like you could truly believe Illya. That finally, there was someone you could let past the walls you had built up around yourself instead of giving you reason to build more.

“Thank you.” you whispered, and Illya nodded. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, straightening when he realized how late it had gotten.

“We should get some sleep.” he remarked, and you nodded in agreement. He moved to get up, but your hand remained wrapped around his, and he looked at you, a hint of confusion in his expression.

“You… you don’t have to sleep on the couch.” you stammered, and Illya couldn’t help but smile at how flustered you had suddenly gotten. “I mean, unless you’d prefer it-”

“No,” Illya cut you off, already sitting down beside you as you let out a tiny sigh of relief. “I’d prefer to sleep here with you.”

Smiling at each other, suddenly privy to parts of each other neither of you had never known, it felt as if things had been restored, as if things would finally run smoothly from here on out. And as the two of you lay down, and you subtly rested your head beside Illya’s shoulder, you wished that it could be true.

—

Illya knew something was wrong the second he woke up. For one, his vision was blurred, and there was a dull pain coursing through his head. He groaned, rolling over, trying to recall the events of last night. His vision finally cleared as he looked at his bedside table, and he shot up when he noticed a syringe.

He snatched it, yet there was no fluid inside to inspect, as it had obviously been injected into him. He spun around to your side of the bed, reaching out as it to wake you, and his heart skipped a beat when his hand was met with nothing but empty sheets. He jerked the sheets aside, his heart pounding out of his chest when he realized you had disappeared, and despite his frazzled state of mind, he tried to put together the pieces as well as he could.

You had been taken. He had been drugged, explaining why he had no recollection of hearing or seeing anyone after you had fallen asleep. Had he not been drugged, he would most definitely sensed if someone had entered the room or if you had been dragged away, and he would’ve been able to stop your kidnappers.

His hands balled into fists, blaming himself for the turn in events. If anything had happened to you, if you had been killed, Illya would never forgive himself. Especially after how vulnerable you had been to him, finally letting him in instead of pushing him out, Illya couldn’t let you down.

And he loved you. He had finally admitted it to himself after you had been taken from him. You were stubborn and guarded, and frustrated him to no end, but especially after how open you had been to him the previous night, Illya had still fallen in love with you.

Trying his best not to give into the fury that was clawing at him, he took a few deep breaths as he tried to think about how to track the people who had taken you. The two of you had been careful not to make sure you were followed every time you returned to your hotel room. You had not revealed your names to anyone, meaning there was no way someone could’ve checked to see which room you were in at the concierge desk. No one had been in your room either.

Then it hit Illya. The maid from the first day. It was the only explanation, the only link. Frantically searching the bed, Illya practically tore it apart before he finally found what he was looking for — a bug that had been planted at the bottom of the bed frame.

Carefully carrying it over to the computer monitor, he gently pried it apart, honing in on the frequencies with the computer to try and trace where the bug was transmitting. Illya almost threw the monitor aside in frustration when it didn’t work the first time, but knowing your life was at stake helped him try again for a second time, a third time before it worked. Scribbling down the address on a scrap of hotel paper, Illya grabbed his guns and headed out.

—

You gritted your teeth, letting out a strangled groan of pain as you spat out the bitter taste of blood that had formed in your mouth. More blood trickled down your nose, streaming over your lips and down your chin.

“I don’t have your precious little chemicals.” you manage to wheeze through the pain. “The truck drove off before I could stop it. Obviously, one of your people betrayed you because it wasn’t me.”

“Because we have sources telling us you were last seen with the disappeared shipment.” your interrogator returned to his table, his tools spread out. “And my boss really wants those chemicals back.”

You didn’t know how long you had been in here, but you weren’t sure if you could handle any more pain. Despite the fact that you were telling the truth, it appeared you didn’t seem very convincing.

“My partner is going to find me.” you changed tactics, scowling at your interrogator as he strolled up with a hammer. “And you’re going to regret all of this.”

“He’s not coming to save you.” your interrogator mocked a frown, his tone condescending as he circled you. “He didn’t save you before, and he’s won’t now.”

You braced yourself for more pain, cringing as the interrogator loomed closer. The both of you froze as the door was suddenly kicked down, the wood splintering against the floor as you saw Illya standing in the doorway, the bodies of the guards fallen behind him. Guns aimed, he snarled, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Before your interrogator could react, Illya shot him dead, before rushing over to you. You could barely think of anything other than the pain, but his name finally reached your tongue.

“Illya.” you gasped, unsure if he was truly in front of you, or you were in so much pain you were hallucinating. You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours as he reached around you, untying your hands before his hands flew up to your face, gently holding it as he looked into your eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Illya simply asked, and without thinking, you nodded. Nodding back at you, he continued, “I will get you out of here, I promise.”

Illya hauled you out of the chair, pulling your arm around his shoulders before he secured an arm around your waist. The two of you limped out the the building, Illya easily shooting down any henchmen who had come to stop you. You and Illya burst out of the door, the sunlight burning into your eyes as you buried your face into Illya’s shoulder, cringing. You lost your balance, nearly collapsing onto the floor as Illya quickly grabbed you, resting your head on his lap. His voice sounded muffled as he urged, “y/n, stay with me. y/n?”

“I trust you.” you whispered, reaching up to lightly touch his cheek. Before you fainted, you weakly repeated,  “I trust you.”

—

You heard murmurs of a conversation as you began to stir, and as you slowly opened your eyes, you saw Illya and Napoleon sitting by your bedside, quietly discussing something. You shifted, realizing you were in the hospital as you tried to recall everything that had happened.

Torture. Torture. Saved by Illya-

“The mission.” you suddenly said, sitting up in alarm as you gripped the edge of the hospital bed. Illya and Napoleon jolted upright upon realizing you were awake, and Illya was quick to place a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you back down. “What happened to the mission? We didn’t finish-”

“It’s be dealt with.” Illya responded vaguely, his tone even, and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between him and Napoleon, awaiting an explanation.

“After Illya brought you to get medical attention, he finished up the mission.” Napoleon finally spoke. He snickered as he continued,  “He went in like a bulldozer, guns blazing. The clean up crew will surely love him for that. Wasn’t the best way to deal with things, but Peril stopped the purchased and destroyed the weapons, which is what matters at the end of the day.”

“Can you give us a moment alone?” Illya suddenly asked, his tone firm, making it clear to Napoleon it was more of a demand than a question. You turned to Illya as Napoleon smiled, raising his hands before he backed out of the room. He quietly closed the door, and the both of you remained silent for a few seconds before Illya quietly said, “After all they had done to you, I couldn’t control my anger anymore. If you didn’t make it, if you had…”

“Hey.” you squeezed Illya’s arm, stopping him before he could finish his morbid scenario. “I’m okay. That’s all that matters.”

Illya nodded, although you could see he still looked troubled. Your hand lingered on his arm, the touch feeling natural instead of forced, and you gently urged, “Talk to me, Illya. What’s on your mind?”

“I fell in love with you.” Illya confessed, immediately feeling a weight off his shoulders as the words spilled from his lips. Even if you didn’t reciprocate the feelings, he needed to tell you. “That was the reason I was so… upset when you had been taken. I almost couldn’t control myself.”

You flashed Illya a small smile. “I fell in love with you, too. More so when you came and rescued me.”

Illya’s eyes widened, and his usual stoic demeanor seemed to melt away as he gave you a shy smile. He leaned forward as if to kiss you, and you leaned towards him until you heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. The both of you jolted apart, and Illya frowned upon seeing Napoleon in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

“I told you so. You and y/n make a perfect match.” Napoleon chuckled, and you buried your embarrassed face in your hands as Illya rolled his eyes.

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