#illya kuryakin oneshot

[justabigoldnerd]

"Blood In Your Teeth and Mud On Your Hands"

By JustABigOldNerd on Ao3

Tags:

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Racing, Motorcycles, Pre-Relationship, Flirting, Gaby Teller Ships Illya Kuryakin/Napolon Solo, POV Multiple

Characters:

Illya Kuryakin, Napoleon Solo, Gaby Teller

Word Count:

1,257

Summary:

Gaby drags Solo to a motocross race, where Illya Kuryakin, better known as The Red Peril in the motocross scene, wins first place. Solo is immediately enamored.

Excerpt:

‘It's all in the adrenaline.’ Illya remembers the words rolling cleanly off of his therapist's tongue. He had been ordered to see the psychiatrist after a particularly gnarly crash down a mountain track left him battered and bruised deeper than just his ribs. It didn't last long– just until his manager was happy– but those words, that conversation still rings in Illya's ears. ‘There was no fear,’ Illya had explained, staring down at his trembling hands, ‘I only felt….’ ‘Excited?’ ‘Something like this.’

I can't believe this codine-fueled oneshot is my 50TH TMFU FIC AJSJGDJSKS unbelievable lmao but very fitting 😆💕💕💕

[yallwildinrn]

For the procrastination ask: 🖍️🤔🤡

Answering these for Snake in the Grass for this ask game! Thank you for the ask <333

🖍️ Post any sentence from your wip.

“How and why circle his mind like a swarm of gnats around the rotting carcass of his long dead relationship with Kreese.”

🤔 What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?

I’m gonna be real, I’ve barely even considered other stories rn lmao. The closest I have to this is a story I have, technically, started, but it’s barely any progress so I’m bringing it up here: a oneshot survival horror featuring Illya Kuryakin from TMFU (2015). I think he just needs to be hunted okay?

🤡 How many wips are you actively working on?

Just Snake in the Grass! I kinda bit off more than I could chew with it, but I’ve been taking it as I go because I wanna get a finished product out there by Halloween. It is what it is I suppose (sounds of bone crunching and blood curdling screams)

[skyborneveggie]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

(I was not tagged, but I saw @rose-of-pollux post this form a few weeks ago & it looked fun)

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 38 works under my username on ao3. I also have 17 anon-ed fics from a fandom I no longer wish to associate with, and a handful of fics on ff.net that I didn't like enough to transfer to ao3.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 29,645 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now only feeling inspired to write for The Man from UNCLE TV show. Though I did post a Good Omens fic this year, & I could probably persuade myself to write another oneshot or two for that.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Idyllism (2016) [Rory & 11th Doctor; Gen but pairings if you like]

The Falliable Pillar (2016) [Onesided Kyouya Ootori/Tamaki Suoh]

1991 (2019) [Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo]

Child's Play (2018) [FrostIron; unfinished & probably will remain so]

Me Paenitet (2011) [Onesided Draco Malfoy/Luna Lovegood, Onesided Astoria Greengras/Draco Malfoy]

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do always try to thank the person for reading. I usually only forget if it's a comment on a very old fic.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is extremely hard for me to answer. Out of the 50+ fics I've written, probably only 5 of them are not angst. My Good Omens fic Aeternum has the most gutting descriptions, but I have always felt that the absolute sucker punch at the end of Provocation (X/1999) hurt the most to write, & to reread.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh undoubtedly my MFU contemporary High School AU, The Puzzle.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have never gotten hate, but I have gotten backhanded compliments that I personally find hilarious. I made a post about it before here.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I... have attempted to write smut, but I don't think I necessarily succeeded. I have written several sex scenes with undetailed descriptions, and the one time I did attempt to be explicit the comments and I both agree that it came out sounding rather clinical. So I dunno if either of those situations really count.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written several crossovers, but I wouldn't consider any of them crazy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, I don't think any of my fics have ever gotten popular enough for anyone to want to steal haha.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I used to translate my own fics into Spanish wayyy back when I first started writing, but I haven't done that in ages.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but it sounds like fun! Would love to give it a shot some day.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin. I am like Smeagol; I'm "interested in roots and beginnings." And how much closer to the root of contemporary fandom can you get, than with these two silly beans?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I would love to finish my 2019 Good Omens fic Temporalia because I think there are some good ideas & beautiful passages in there. The problem is that my interpretation of the characters has changed, & is no longer consistent with some of the details I wrote back then. I'd also like to complete my 2018 FrostIron fic someday, just for the sake of finishing it. It was entirely plotted when I quit on it, and I still have all my notes.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I am good at writing turmoil, inner confusion, and despair. I try to wring every ounce of angst out of descriptions, letting the character's distress color their perception of their environment, and I think I'm pretty decent at it. I also think I'm pretty good at expressing complex emotions without being too direct, though sometimes I worry that I'm too indirect & that I'll leave readers confused.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

PLOT, I am extremely impatient when writing scenes where things actually happen. Also dialogue, I always feel that my dialogue either just does not sound realistic, or does not sound like the characters.

Another huge writing weakness is that I am incapable of writing anything longer than short story length, & have abandoned every attempt at a longfic after the 2nd chapter.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have done this in the past for characters who canonically do this. I know it is standard practice to italicize all foreign language words when writing, but I personally find this VERY jarring. I generally leave foreign dialogue unitalicized & formatted indistinguishably from the primary language dialogue. But I think I may be the only one with this pet peeve, because I have received a few complaints about my lack of italicization from readers.

I could go way more in depth as to why the italics on foreign words annoy me, but I don't think anyone would be interested in hearing that rant 😂

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Suite Life of Zack and Cody. It was 2008. That fic has been scrubbed from the internet lol.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Provocation (X/1999). It was the one and only time I'd ever written something and then thought "Ah. Yes. This is an absolutely perfect execution of my vision."

Tagging @theniftycat, @tenok, & @lunetta-suzie-jewel if you like, or anyone else who wants to do this. (@andorianimpostor I'm not sure if you write fic or not, but I thought I'd tag you in case you do)

[thatlittlered]

Happy new year!!! How about a Drabble on illya kuryakin spending New Year's Eve with his crush

Happy New Year if it’s already 2018 where you live! Hope you like this!

Illya leaned against the rail of the great big balcony, swirling the whiskey in his hands and focusing on the squeaking of each ice cube instead of the booming music coming from inside.

The city was dressed in light, moonshine and Christmas lights setting the mood for the year to come. There was music everywhere, in every house and every building and he couldn’t help but wonder how easily people could forget.

Solo said that’s the point. To drink. To forget.

Forget what? The pain? The heartbreak?

Not even a glass of Solo’s finest whiskey could make him forget that.

But he drank anyway.

“Why so lonely, agent?” he heard you call and turned but God almighty, did he wish he hadn’t.

You looked absolutely stunning.

Hair done beautifully but falling apart as a result of your dancing - not that he watched you before. Of course not.

The scar that ran across your chin mere days ago was covered with makeup, powdered to perfection but he still knew it was there and that hurt. It only served as a reminder that he couldn’t protect you. Again.

Still, you smiled, taking small steps towards him until you were standing in front of him and his breath almost hitched in his throat.

He gulped at the proximity, but he wouldn’t break. Not yet.

“It’s too noisy inside.” he murmured, still playing with the glass in his hand before downing the rest of the liquid.

“Not a fan of parties, agent Kuryakin?” you swirled your own drink, mindlessly watching the gold-like liquid before bringing the glass back to your lips.

“Too much fuss about nothing,” he shrugged.

You gasped and shook your head, “Over nothing? It’s the new year, Ill. A cause for celebration!”

Illya chuckled and turned his back to you, hopelessly trying to ignore your little nickname for him. Empty hope never benefitted anyone.

“What’s to celebrate? Nothing really changes.”

You tutted playfully, following him back towards the trail with a mirthful smile that made him regret ever coming here.

“A lot can change in a few hours, agent Kuryakin.” you shifted your body to look at him, his sandy locks capturing the moonlight and his baby blues hidden in the darkness.

He was staring at you. Wordlessly, curiously. Eyes on you and only you.

And perhaps that’s what gave you the confidence to close the distance between you, keeping no more than an inch of space between your bodies as your hands found shelter on his chest.

His breath hitched then and you thought he might break the glass in his hands from the way he gripped it, his knuckles pale white, but his gaze never wavering.

Pushing yourself on your tiptoes, you challenged him. Your nose brushed against his chin. His cheek. His lips.

And then he leaned in.

[make-me-imagine]

Dance With Me

Request: Would you do a xreader with the part of the movie when Gabby is drunk and dances(/wrestles) with Illya? Maybe reader is super tired/bored and then falls asleep (before or after kiss this time- your choice) And Illya carries them to bed? It doesn’t have to be completely in line with the movie, so you can change anything if you’d like to. I hope this is enough info for you! Ty❤️

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to actually writing some requests - and I did change it somewhat from the movie scene

This is the scene this is based on/rewritten with the reader.

Characters: Illya Kuyakin x reader

Gender: Any/Neutral    Triggers: None

You sat back in your chair taking another sip of your drink and sighing as it’s warmth slid down your throat. Illya moved another chess piece in deep concentration. Sighing a little louder you saw him glance towards you slightly before moving another piece.

“Are you sure we can’t go out?” you finally said

“Yes” he said simply

“Aren’t you bored?” you asked watching as he stared at the chessboard deep in thought as if he was playing another person.

“No” 

Leaning your head back and staring at the roof for a moment you looked around the room. As you looked towards the hallway you remembered the record player in the other room. Standing you wandered over to it and looked through the records. Finding one you liked you put it on.

Walking back into the room you glanced at Illya and saw a mildly annoyed expression spread across his face. Smirking to yourself you poured another drink and started slowly swaying your body to the music, starting to feel the affects of the alcohol. As the tempo picked up you starting moving more, spinning lightly as you sipped at your drink.

Illya sighed as he glanced up at you, he tried to avoid watching you, but as your movements became more obvious it became harder to do so. Sighing he stood up and walked over to you.

"The music is too loud”

Moving in front of him before he could turn off the music he gave you an annoyed look.

“Dance with me”

He sighed before shaking his head “I do not dance”

“Just because you don’t dance doesn’t mean you can’t. Besides, it’s no fun dancing alone”

“Then turn off the music”

Giving him a slight frown he sighed. Grabbing his arms and moving them in an forcefully awkward way he stared down at you. 

“Come on, one dance. Then I’ll turn it off”

Huffing out, his arms slowly became more fluid as he reluctantly started to dance with you. As you smiled at him, he felt a light tug at the edge of his lips but ignored it.

He sighed as he looked around the room, anywhere but at you. Lifting his hand and smacking his own face with it he looked down at you shocked.

“It’s rude not to make eye contact with the person you are dancing with”

Glaring at you he spoke threateningly “Do not do that again”

“Do what? This?” you said hitting him lightly in the face with his other hand.

As he grew more angry he pulled away from you, pointing at you he spoke low “Don’t make me put you over my knee”

Tilting your head in a questioning manner you spoke sarcastically “Is that suppose to be a threat?”

As his face became slightly shocked you hit him again but couldn’t hold back your smirk. Realizing you were trying to make him angry he grabbed your wrists and pulled you closer to him.

“This is not a game y/n”

“No, apparently it’s a fight” you said before suddenly pushing him backwards into the side of the couch, causing him to fall back onto it.

Quickly moving he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him, but as you struggled you pulled him off the couch, where he ended up on top of you. Lying on the floor in silence he stared into your eyes. You realized just how close his face was. As you lied there looking at him your tiredness started to take hold, but Illyas gaze into your eyes drew you towards him.

Slowly you moved your face up slightly, as he moved closer to you. Your lips brushed lightly before your lack of sleep and the alcohol took hold and your head fell lightly back to the floor.

Illya, staring at you sighed moving to pick you up he held you close to him and he took you to the bedroom. Lying you lightly on your bed he brushed some hair our of your face before smiling lightly at you.

“Goodnight y/n”

You were still barely awake, trying to stop yourself from completely drifting off. As you felt Illya’s weight leave the bed you reached out, not expected to find anything. But you managed to grab his hand.

Stopping at the touch he looked down at your hand as it lightly grabbed onto his fingers. Looking at you, and finding that you stilled had your eyes closed. he squeezed your hand lightly until your hand went completely limp as you finally gave into sleep.

Requested by anon - again I’m sorry it took so long

[writingruna]

Hii, can I get an imagine for illya, numbers, (you decided which ones), #16 "you're getting crumbs all over my bed" and number 1, thank u❤

Napoleon lounged on the bed, picking at the food that sat on the nightstand beside him and staring at the bulletin board you had set up after Waverly had called you back from the gala. You leaned against the table near the board, having eaten in the hour you waited for them. Illya sat in a chair beside you, his hand resting on your knee and tracing circles as he ate. "I thought the daughter wasn't involved?" Napoleon asked.

"You are getting crumbs all over our bed, Cowboy," Illya said, this thumb momentarily stopping it's motion.

Ignoring your husband, you answered Napoleon's question. "Waverly thought so as well, but her signature is on all the approval forms. The signatures aren't identical, which means it's not a stamp, and they're definitely authentic. It's possible she isn't aware of what she's signing for, but I highly doubt it."

"All the forms?" Napoleon asked, sitting up straight and throwing his feet off the side of the bed. "You're sure?"

"Every one," you answered. Napoleon stood up suddenly, walking from the room without a word.

You rolled your eyes as the door closed, letting Illya pull you from the table and onto his lap. "I hate when he does that," you said, shaking your head in frustration. "Rushing away in a huff without telling us where he's off to. It's starting to get annoying and one of these days it's going to get all three of us into trouble."

"It is not all bad," he said, and you hummed in pleasure when he pressed a soft kiss just below your ear. "It gives me time to tell you how beautiful you look tonight."

"Oh?" you asked, shifting on his lap until you could kiss him softly. "You think I look beautiful?"

Illya chuckled, standing up with you in his arms. "You are always beautiful, but tonight even more so. Waverly sent you away because I could not keep my eyes from you."

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Owning Up - Illya Kuryakin

Fic #16 of the Hamilton Prompts Song: Meet Me Inside Reader is Napoleon Solo’s Sister

"I really have to leave, Y/N," Illya said, pulling away from your lips. You groaned and ignored what he said, kissing him again. He smiled against your lips but pulled away again. "Baby, if he finds us in here-"

"Then I'll kill him," you said, kissing him. Illya laughed against your lips this time.

"You'd kill your own brother?" he asked. You rolled your eyes and fell back on the bed realizing that this moment wasn't going to continue anymore.  

"Well I kind of want to kill you right now, too."

"I'm sorry, baby. But you know how he would act if he found out."

"Something like this?" You turned in horror to find your brother, Napoleon standing in the doorway with a look that matched yours. You immediately jumped out of bed, keeping the bed sheet wrapped around you lightly so he wouldn't see the lacy nightgown you wore.

"What the hell are you doing, peril? That's my sister you're in bed with."

"Napoleon, please."

"Don't, I'll deal with you later," he said firmly. He turned away from you and went back to glaring at Illya. "Can I speak to you for a minute, Russian?"

'"He has a name," you spat. Napoleon rolled his eyes at you.

"Illya, meet me inside?" he said, motioning to the door across the hall. You started to argue again, but Napoleon cut you off once more. He stormed out of the room as you looked back at Illya.

"You don't have to go with him," you said, crawling back on the bed sheet. He pulled away from you, still staring at the door Napoleon just disappeared into. "I'll go talk to him-"

"No," Illya said, his voice deep and serious. "I have to own up to this.”

“Why? We are both responsible.”

“It’s different.”

“Why?” you asked, touching his chest as he started to get up. He looked at you painfully and sighed. 

“I’m suppose to be his friend. I shouldn’t be sleeping with his sister.”

“He doesn’t get to make those kind of rules. Let me go explain everything to him, he won’t hurt me.”

“He won’t hurt me either,” he said. You frowned at him and tilted your head just slightly. 

“You know that’s not true.”

“I can handle myself,” he said, taking your hands and removing them from his chest. You sighed and watched him as he stood up. “It’ll be fine.” He walked into the hall, and closed the door behind you, leaving you to guess what was happening. 

You ran to the door and tried to eavesdrop. They were clearly arguing by the volume of their voices, but they were talking so fast, it was hard to hear. 

“As if this war wasn’t hard enough without fighting between us,” Napoleon said. Ilya stuttered a response, but you didn’t hear him. It sounded like it was in Russian, which neither you nor Napoleon understood. A few more minutes of arguing, the door opened and you fell down onto the floor. 

“Y/N,” Napoleon said, helping you up. “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like?” you asked, rubbing your ear. “I was trying to eavesdrop on you.” Illya laughed as he walked up to you. You looked between the two of them. Illya smiled softly at you while Napoleon sighed. 

“Can we talk?” he asked you.

“Maybe later. We’ve got to get ready for that gala we’re infiltrating, or did you forget?” He groaned and nodded. You went to shut the door, and he gave Illya a weird look. “Well, you know, so there’s not really any point of us sneaking around. We get dressed in front of each other,” you said, slamming the door in your brother’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” Illya said when you turned back to him.

“For what?” you asked.

“We shouldn’t have gotten caught. I’m sorry that you have to deal with your brother now.” You smiled and walked up to Illya, putting your hands on his face.

“If I couldn’t handle my brother, I wouldn’t have joined up a career where I see him every god damn day,” you said. He smiled and looked down bashfully. You kissed him softly. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I am not a maiden in need of defending, I am grown,” you said to your brother as he tried to yell at you as he walked you around the gala. He rolled his eyes at you, still keeping close to your side. 

“I hope your boyfriend knows what he’s doing,” he muttered.

“He does. You know this.”

“I thought I knew everything about him-”

“Grow up, Napoleon,” you said. “Keep your eyes on the target, and get over yourself,” you said, taking your arm away from his. You made your way over to the food table and started eating a piece of shrimp. 

Luckily, you glanced at the door where you saw your target walking near. You looked around the room and saw Napoleon glaring at Illya, and not watching your target at all. You tried to make your way over to her, but by the time you got there, she was already getting into her car waiting outside for her. 

“Dammit.” You stormed back inside and found Napoleon, punching him in the side.

“Jesus, what was that for?” he asked. 

“You let her go.”

“What?” he asked, looking around the room. You made eye contact with Illya and waved him your way. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, his accent thicker than usual as a part of his disguise.

“Napoleon lost her,” you said. Illya sighed and you rolled your eyes. “Let’s go.” You waited until you got in the car to yell at him.

“What is your problem?” you asked him the second the door closed. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your anger solves nothing! You’ve fucked up our mission because you’re mad at Illya. Well don’t be,” you yelled.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m the one that started all of this. He didn’t corrupt your precious baby sister. I made the move on him, okay? So if you want to be mad at someone be mad at me.” He was speechless for the rest of the drive, and so was Illya.

As you walked up the steps to your hotel, Illya took your hand. You smiled over at him and stepped closer to him.

“Thank you for saying that.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, looking up at him. He smiled and looked like he wanted to kiss you. You both looked back at Napoleon who purposefully looked away. You leaned up and kissed Illya softly. As you approached the elevator, Napoleon pulled you two apart.

“Can I have a second with Y/N?” he asked. Illya nodded and let you get into the elevator by yourselves. 

“What?” you asked as the elevator doors slid shut. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, we’ll get her later,” you said.

“No, not just about that. I’m sorry that I’ve acted this way. Illya is a - okay person, and I trust you, so I should have never done this. If you like him, and you think he’s a good man, than I can live with that.” You smiled and tugged on the edge of his suit. He smiled back at you and you stepped closer, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Don’t worry. You’re a spy, I should have seen it coming. Just don’t let me catch you two in bed again, okay?”

“Deal.”

[benhardypout-archive]

IN PERIL

"You think I didn't notice?" Solo's words echoed through the room. Illya turned his attention to him from the file he's reading - another mission.

"You're having a soft spot for her." The American spy continued.

Something stirred in the pit of his stomach, Gaby flashed through his head. He turned stiffer than how stiff he normally was, looking back to the file. "Who?"

Solo laughed as if he said something funny. Then he crossed his legs in a very sophisticated manner like how he carried himself, placing his hands on his thighs, adding to the charisma he exuded. His eyes fixed at him. Illya avoided his gaze. "I think we both know who I am talking about."

Illya felt his throat tightened. He kept his mouth shut. They stayed silent but he couldn't stand it. Solo's sudden quietness was too loud for him to bear. He could practically read his mind across the room, taunting him to blurt how he felt for Gaby.

Gaby. Damn, just thinking about her turned his insides upside down, made his heart flutter in a different way. No, it never beat this way before, ever. And most times, he wanted to keep her close to him, to protect her at all cost, making sure she's safe. He felt a rising fear whenever she's out of his sight.

Damn, maybe he's in love - but how do you know if you're in love?

"Look, here comes Gaby."

Illya felt his breath hitched, his body felt a jolt making him weak in an instant just by the mention of her name. He lifted his head from the folder he's holding to look at her, only to see no one but Solo, who's suppressing a snicker.

He clenched his jaw and balled his hand into fist. Sometimes, his knuckles were so tempted to know how Solo's face would feel against them.

But looking at this moron, he never had anyone he could call a friend. Yes, being with him could sometimes be, or most of the time, unbearable, excruciatingly insufferable. Yet, predominantly, they got each other's back, saving the other's ass from danger. And he knew, Gaby needed them too. 

Gaby. Maybe she had become too important in his life. He mainly didn't do attachments. Avoided it at all costs, for the kind of job he had. And, not to mention, to where she's now involved.

He threw Solo a glare. “What are you trying to do, Solo?”

Solo just shrugged. “Well, I thought I saw Gaby.”

He despised his cocky face so much.

The American spy regarded him for a moment. “I think you two must take this mission together.”

“I can do the mission alone.” And if he’d be honest, he didn’t want to put Gaby in danger, and would, happily, do her mission for her safety. If only he could, without getting anyone, especially, Waverly, who called them for this mission, suspicious.

“Unless, you want to keep Gaby safe and do her mission as well.”

He also hated how this American spy could read his mind. Sometimes. Not most of the time. 

“I heard my name,” Gaby said, appearing from the entrance. Illya fidgeted in his place, searching for  something to do with his hands. He just pretended reading the file even though he had been scanning his eyes through it since last night. He cleared his throat. He could imagine Napoleon having fun watching him. He clenched his fist tighter.

“I think Peril here wants to tell you something.”

He really wanted to strangle him sometimes.

“What?” Now she’s standing before him, arms crossed.

“I… Would you like to... drink?” he said, haltingly.

“I forgot I got some errands to do.” Solo then stood, excusing himself and made his way out. But Illya knew that he intended to do it. He thought having Solo gone would help him breathe but being alone with Gaby wasn’t helping either. Instead, he could feel the walls closing in on him. 

He heard her scoff. “And here I thought the man doesn’t like to drink.” 

“I only ask you to drink. But I’m not drinking.”

“Seriously?” Gaby paused and looked at him. “No. The man who asked to drink must drink also. That’s the golden rule.” And she made her way to the pantry. “And yes, let's have a drink.”

Illya sighed in defeat and followed after her. 

“No.”

Gaby stopped, holding a bottle of Vodka in hand and a glass in the other. “Don’t tell me, you’ll leave me drinking all this alone again just like the last time.”

He couldn’t believe she wasn’t over it yet. “No. That’s not what I want to tell.”

Her shoulders relaxed, her hands bringing the bottle and the glass on the counter.

He looked at her for a while. “I can’t let you do this mission.”

“What?”

“It’s too dangerous for you.” I almost lost you the last time.

“I will take this mission, Illya.”

“No.”

“Trust me. At least a little. I’m not… We’re not here to act engaged. I’m not your fiance anymore. So stop acting like you must protect me. I can handle myself pretty well.”

He trusted her. Trusted her skills. And he believed she could do this job, heck, she could wrestle him. But it’s the fear of losing her, why he didn’t want her to take this mission.

“Waverly trusted me to do this. So I’m also hoping you can trust me…” She took a sharp breath, a huff. “I’m expecting you of all people to trust me the most, Illya.”

No. He wanted to say for the last time. 

“Answer me, Illya.” He looked at her. “Do you trust me?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He could only blame himself if something bad happened to her. The foreboding fear was too strong for him to bear.

With another sigh, Gaby stared at him and walked out of the room. And he could only watch.

And the name Solo gave him… Peril… made so much sense in that moment, as he thought that maybe he’s turning soft towards her and maybe that's what falling in love is. 

*****

A/N: My very first The Man From U.N.C.L.E. story. Idek whether to call this a oneshot or a drabble. Sorry. I know it’s pretty simple and short, as I only got the drive/motivation to write this idea after watching the movie. And I, instantly, fell in love with Gaby and Illya’s relationship.♥

[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.

tags: @melody-of-scream ↳ want to be added to the tag list?

[ispynapollya]

tfw you set out to write a very specific napollya thing but get carried away with the dorks and write 1k of nonsense before even getting to the initial idea ...

[myartificialflowers]

Summary: Napoleon comes back from the pub with glassy eyes and blown out pupils. That would have been enough for Illya to notice that something was wrong but the disheveled hair and split lip make it all the more obvious and he’s on his feet before the door is even shut behind the other man. Gaby had been dozing off on the couch but snapped awake at Illya’s movement.

“Don’t.” Napoleon says when Illya strides towards him, holding out a hand in front of him while the other rests on the wall to keep him steady, “Don’t.”

Word count:  1489

[aceofwhump]

Can you recommend any good sickfics?

Sure can!

Lucifer

The Devil and the Flu by dino76 Summary: Shameless Lucifer fluff. Our favourite devil has an unpleasant encounter with something called “the flu”.

Precocious Parasite Oshii Summary: Lucifer eats something unwise and Chloe tends to him. When she has to leave, Trixie steps in and volunteers her services as resident physician. H/C, sick!Lucifer.

Thermophilic Bacteria by ElenaCee Summary: Lucifer manages to get sick, which leads to its own kind of reveal.

Nurse to the Devil by CastleMorningstar Summary: When Lucifer suddenly falls ill at a crime scene, Chloe takes it upon herself to make him better, with the help of Trixie

powering through by Oshii Summary: Sick!Lucifer, heedless of his fragile state, invites Chloe over to the penthouse to go over some missing links on a case. Things do not end well for him. Chloe sticks around to help him out. Emeto, h/c, nausea and back rubbing!

The King and the Taco Truck by Oshii Summary: For all his infernal splendor, Lucifer still falls victim to one of humanity's most troublesome grievances. Mazikeen, ever the faithful assistant, is there to pick up the pieces. AU!Lucifer, sick!Lucifer, emeto, mild H/C (mild because it's maze).

Thomas Barrow

The Illness dustnik Summary: Set in 1924. Thomas becomes very ill, and Andy is concerned.

A Little Help by Once_More_With_Feeling Summary: A missing scene from Season 5, episode 6, after Miss Baxter takes Thomas to see Dr. Clarkson.

Danny Williams

Chicken Soup for the Soul by MDJensen Summary: Danny's homesick, and sick sick. Chin's a good friend. Set soon after 1x08

Rising Temperatures by Candy_A Summary: Danny's bout of the flu leads the guys to discover that there may be something better than just soothing each other's pain.

Warmth by Nymaria Summary: Steve is falling in love. (How there is paperwork, a stage production of Wicked, Danny is sick with the flu, a murder case pops up, and Steve has to deal with feelings.)

Klaus Hargreeves

Sick of Pills by SheepShit Summary: Klaus is sick, Ben is trying to help, Diego is helping and Luther is absolutely no help

asset by painting Summary: As it turns out, "leave me alone, I'm sick" isn't an adequate deterrent when directed toward the living or the dead.

Malcolm Bright

Common Cold by Bowtiez Summary: Malcolm is not the kind of guy to admit when something's not right. And, well, something's not quite right. Gil's not the kind of guy to just ignore when one of his team members is not doing so good. Even Dani and JT can see something's going on with their profiler.

Mike Warren

Sick Mike Oneshots by Miss DiNozzo Summary: As a huge sickfic fan, I’ve really wanted to see more sick!Mike. So naturally I wrote a million stories about it.

Crowley (Good Omens)

Honour by DictionaryWrites2 Summary: Just a very small, sick!Crowley thing!

Eliot Waugh

Time is Limited; Love is Precious by clarapaget Summary: Eliot gets sick. It's been a few months since Arielle passed of a similar sickness and Quentin is on edge.

Chroma by kangamangus Summary: Set during A Life in the Day, Eliot gets sick and Quentin frets.

Illya Kuryakin

Something New by moviegeek03 Summary: Illya couldn't show weakness. No matter how much he hurt, or how bad that annoying cough got. He was the muscle for their team. He couldn't get sick. Right?

Russian Immunity by lovelydarkanddeep Summary: "I am Russian. Cold does not bother me. I do not want to deal with you getting sick because you have inferior immune system." Illya let's Gaby borrow his coat, but it seems even the Red Peril isn't immune to a common cold.

Too Bad by floral cactus Summary: Illya is sick, and of course he doesn't tell anyone until he ends up puking on the very nice, very expensive hotel carpet. Gaby/Illya one-shot.

Night Fever by PerilousCowboy Summary: Illya gets sick, but luckily his team is there to watch out for him. Shameless fluff.

Mon-El

Never Alone (or the one where Mon-El gets sick) by Write-To-You Summary: This was the first time Mon-El had gotten sick since he was 8. It brought back memories of Daxem, some welcome, most not. Because he was alone now. Or maybe he wasn't, and he just didn't know it yet.

John Sheppard

Nightcrawlers by coolbreeze1 Summary: Just a little self-indulgent whumping fic to get myself back into the writing habit. There's only the thinnest hint of an actual story here, so don't expect too much beyond sick!Shep...Not for the squeamish! Otherwise, no spoilers of any kind.

Killian Jones

Nightcrawlers by coolbreeze1 Summary: Just a little self-indulgent whumping fic to get myself back into the writing habit. There's only the thinnest hint of an actual story here, so don't expect too much beyond sick!Shep...Not for the squeamish! Otherwise, no spoilers of any kind.

Pale by SignoriaSickFic Summary: Set in the 6 weeks of peace in S4. Killian catches a nasty stomach bug and, feeling sick, fails to answer his phone. Enter a worried Emma who finds herself playing nursemaid to her indisposed pirate boyfriend. Warning: mentions of vomiting.

Killian is Sick by KatofDresden Summary: Sickfic! Killian Jones is a survivor, but that doesn't mean he can't be hurt. A series of oneshots where Hook is sick or injured. Lots of vulnerable Killlian and Captain Swan feels. And some angst. Suggestions welcome.

Silence by SlytherinElektra Summary: Spoilers for 3X20 Kansas. AU-ish. Sick Hook. After the drowning incident, Hook is more hurt than he lets on. The consequences of the trauma catch up to him dramatically. Whump, angst, Emma feels.

Cabin Fever by CSIBeauty Summary: When Emma goes to the Jolly Roger to question Hook about a recent theft in town she finds him in a less than healthy state. He refuses to leave the comfort of his ship leaving her no choice but to take care of him there. AU Sick!Hook NOW COMPLETE

Neal Caffrey

My HeroJosieStyleNeal is in need for a hero, because he is really sick. He wanted something that took away his pain. Peter and his wife helping the young man out, with soup, trashcans, and a lot of patience. Read, and make my day!

Neal's Sickness by PoeticJustice84 Summary: Neal comes down with a nasty bug and Peter and El have to nurse him back to health in this installment.

Sick Day by Stealth Dragon Summary: This is not the first time Peter had seen a sick Neal, but this is the first time he's had to deal with a sick Neal. Neal and Peter friendship. Poor sick Neal. Gen all the way, baby.

Neal's Sick Day by pineapple dreamer Summary: Neal's a bit under the weather. Just some random Neal whump. I do not own any of these characters.

Tony DiNozzo

This is Home by Emiliana Keladry Summary: Tony almost dies in a house fire and finds himself fighting a respiratory infection that his lungs aren't strong enough to take. He needs someone to take care of him while he's so very sick.

A Doctor's Love by Fictionnaire Summary: The DiNardo/Benoit life... Tony's body has trouble keeping up with the double life and becomes sick. Can Tony keep up the DiNardo persona while sick? And the Director's Conspiratal web grows. Warning! DiNozzo/Benoit pairing.

The Deepest Significance by bananacosmicgirl Summary: While working on a case, Tony gets sick but pretends nothing is wrong. When Gibbs sends Tony and Ziva out to track the possible murderer, things take a turn for the worse. Gibbs/DiNozzo, slash.

Riley Poole

In Sickness and in Health by Craic agus Ceol Summary: Oneshot, pre-NT1. Riley comes down with an illness. Ben is less than thrilled at the way he handles it.

Red Jello by Ryo314 Summary: Riley is sick. What more can you want?

[harleysarchive]

Here is my masterlist of everything I have done on my blog!

UPDATED 2022-03-28

AVENGERS

Join My Side - Avengers/Ultron oneshot

Where Are You? - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Tony’s ending, Thor’s ending, Steve’s ending

My True Soulmate an Avengers!AU series

Tony Stark imagines

Beautifully Amazing

Steve Rogers imagines

You Are My Happiness

In Love With An Officer

We’re Not Even If You Die

Thor imagines

I Love You, No Matter Your Curves

O Mighty Thor

Guardian of the Throne

Loki imagines

Attraction

Bruce Banner imagines

Clint Barton

Natasha Romanoff

Peter Parker

Come Back To Me, Peter

The Happiest 

DC COMICS

Bruce Wayne imagines (Ben Affleck)

Bruce Wayne imagines (Christian Bale)

Wonder Woman imagines

Lex Luthor

You Will Be Mine - Lex Luthor series masterlist

If Ya Hurt Her, I’ll Kill Ya (Bff!Harley)

Beneath My Skin (slighty the Joker)

Control

Clark Kent

You’re My Future

The Joker imagines (Heath Ledger)

The Joker mini serie - Part 1, Part 2

HIT ME! - The Joker oneshot

Jonathan Crane imagines

Let Her Go Now

Such Beauty to a Sore Eye

Welcome to the Asylum

Clumsy You

No Fear from Me

The Haunted House

Bane

I Will Take Care Of You

Barsad

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Gaston imagines 

BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY

Roger Taylor

My Metaphor

Drummer Boy

Somebody To Love

Car Accident

Brian May

You Are Never Nervous

CELEBRITIES

Heath Ledger

Take Me Back 

Notice Me 

Ben Hardy

Just Like You

Golden Globe Kiss

You’re Cute When You’re Jealous

Merry Christmas, Ben

Chris Hemsworth

Chris Evans

Idris Elba

Johnny Depp

Thomas Sangster-Brodie

Benedict Cumberbatch

Dylan O'Brien

Lee Pace

Aiden Turner

Rami Malek

Jai Courtney

Henry Cavill

Taylor Lautner

FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM 

Newt Scamander

You Jealous?

FORMULA 1

Wolff Lady part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, Finale, Max’s ending, Daniel’s ending, Pierre’s ending, Esteban’s ending, Charles’ ending, Lando’s ending, Carlos’ ending, George’s ending, Toto’s ending, Lewis’ ending, Valtteri’s ending

Charles Leclerc imagines

To Fall in Love (part 1)

To Confess Your Love (part 2)

To Stay in Love (part 3)

Forgetful Charles

Monegasque Kiss

Lovers Interview (Part 1) (Part 2)

Max Verstappen imagines

Home

Lewis Hamilton

An Accidental Kiss

Met Gala

Sergio Pérez 

Surprise!

Pierre Gasly

Sleep My Darling

Toto Wolff

Kiss Me

Daniel Ricciardo

Wingman Interview

Did You Kiss My Helmet? 

Fernando Alonso

Victory of the Heart

GAME OF THRONES

Robb Stark imagines

Margaery Tyrell imagines

Oberyn Martell imagines 

THE HOBBIT

Bilbo

Thorin

Fili

Kili

Bofur

Thranduil

Bard

Smaug

Gandalf

THE LORD OF THE RINGS

Frodo

Merry

Pippin

Legolas

THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E

Illya Kuryakin

Napoleon Solo

THE MAZE RUNNER

Thomas

Newt

Gally

Minho

Theresa

MY BABYSITTER’S A VAMPIRE

Benny Weir

NOW YOU SEE ME

Daniel Atlas

ONCE UPON A TIME

Captain Hook

Jefferson

Mulan

Peter Pan

Rumplestiltskin

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

Captain Jack Sparrow

Will Turner

Davy Jones

James Norrington

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Mr. Darcy

SHERLOCK HOLMES (BBC)

Sherlock Holmes

James Moriarty

STAR TREK (movies)

Captain Jim Kirk

Spock

Bones

Khan

SUICIDE SQUAD

Captain Boomerang

Rick Flag

Harley Quinn

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Isaac Lahey

Jackson Wittmore

Derek Hale

Aiden

Shy Girls Are Cute - Aiden oneshot (Teen Wolf)

VAMPIRE DIARIES

Damon Salvatore

VIKINGS

Ragnar Lothbrok

Innocent Flower Part one, Part two

Rollo

Björn Ironside

Ivar the Boneless

Halfdan the Black

WITCHER

Geralt

YOUTUBERS

Pewdiepie

Jacksepticeye

Markiplier

Tobuscus

Corpse Husband

Among You and Me Part 1, Part 2, Finale

[bonniebird]

I do not give my permission to be posted to any third party sites!!!

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Imagines: All my imagines for Illya Kuryakin

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- Illya Kuryakin x Reader

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Oneshots: All my Oneshots for Illya Kuryakin

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- Illya Kuryakin x Reader

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Prompts: All my Prompts for Illya Kuryakin

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+ We’re snowed in 

- Requested by: Anon

- Illya Kuryakin x Reader

- Summary: You and Illya get snowed in together at the safe house and and Napoleon had taken you to during their assignment to protect you

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- Requested by: Anon

- Illya Kuryakin x Reader

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- Requested by: Anon

- Illya Kuryakin x Reader

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Moodboards: All my Moodboards for Illya Kuryakin

Multi-Chapter fics: All my Multi-Chapter Fics for Illya Kuryakin

Character Tag: All my posts for Illya Kuryakin

Gifsets: All my Gifsets for Illya Kuryakin

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Icons: All my Moodboards for Illya Kuryakin

Edits: All my Moodboards for Illya Kuryakin

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Film Masterlist

TV Show Masterlist

Man from U.N.C.L.E Masterlist

[thatlittlered]

Peace | Illya Kuryakin

Pairing: Illya Kuryakin x Reader

Warning(s): None

Request(s): Nope, just wanted to write about my man

Tagging: @thepoet1975  @raywinchester  @im-tired-please-stop

Just as the first bite of cold wind crept under his night-shirt your hand moved around his middle, warm and soft. In seconds your body was molded to his own, sharing your body heat as easily as you shared your heart. 

He could never let another close to him like this, but you were so different. 

He had never known a person to always have the right motivations, even when you were wrong. There was a purity to you, naivety perhaps, but you were the only flower in the meadow for his eyes.

Perhaps that’s why he fell for you. Why he loved you. Why he married you. 

Marriage had never been a spoken word in his life. For how could one speak about marriage what they held no knowledge to the meaning?

It was not a ring worn or a paper signed. It was not something endured but savored. He knew the meaning now as you lay so peacefully on top of him, peaceful and beautiful as always.

Marriage was a place where the savage winds ceased, where no clouds could block the warmth of the evening rays. 

It was a place where the sun would set with no fear of the darkness to come. 

Where one soul could whisper to another in a language only its mate could truly hear. A place where togetherness meant peace.

That’s all he ever wanted. Peace.

As if on cue, light footsteps behind him came to interrupt that peace. It made him seethe with anger, eyes fluttering open in an instant as his hand moved to grab that of the intruder’s.

“What do you want?” his words were mere whispers, careful not to disturb you but his tone was enough to intimidate any man.

Just not this one.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important, Peril. There’s something you should see.” Solo spoke steadily, his voice not faltering a bit despite your husband’s glare.

Illya groaned, sighing lightly. Of course, he had to ruin a moment so perfect. 

“Give me a minute.”

Napoleon nodded and took a step back, moving towards the exit rather louder than you would expect a trained spy such as him to walk. The floor squeaked and you stirred in your sleep just enough for Illya to notice as he looked back at Solo, a murderous look on his face.

“Wake her up and I will kill you.” he seethed through gritted teeth, such intensity within the pools of blue inside his eyes that for the first time even Solo felt a tinge of fear, knowing fully what the Russian spy was capable of should anyone challenge him.

He stilled his movements completely, raising his arms in surrender as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

All he could do was watch in awe as Illya gently pulled away from your hold, moving your body to rest on top of the mattress instead as he took a moment to admire you. His hands moved ever so gracefully; surprisingly so for a man of his size as he moves the covers around you just enough to tuck you in properly. 

He knew you’d be freezing when you woke up, missing the warmth of his body like you always did when he was away.

Grabbing a proper pair of trousers from the nearest chair, Illya seized his moves yet again to hover over your sleeping form, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

With a content sigh, he was ready to leave.

He moved past Solo swiftly, leaving the poor man dazed as his brain struggled to process what he had just witnessed.

Illya Kuryakin was a 6'4 tall KGB agent with enough physical strength to kill a man with little to no effort yet here he was; always as gentle as a lamb when it came to you.

His booming voice was enough to snap Napoleon out of his daze, “You coming, Cowboy?”

[make-me-imagine]

Sleepover

Request: The reader and Illya have a sleepover

Characters: Illya Kuryakin x Reader

Gender: Any/Neutral    Triggers: None

Words: 1,413

“Come on it’ll be fun!” you whined following the tall man.

“No, it is ridiculous” he said in his deep voice while turning to face you. Pouting at him he frowned at you “We are adults y/n, adults do not have slumber parties” he said while wincing at the words.

“It wouldn’t be a slumber party, it’s a sleep over, their different” you said while crossing your arms.

Raising his eyebrows he copied your stance “How so?”

“Umm, well, slumber parties are for children. Sleep overs are more mature. Instead of gossiping about boys we relax and talk about other things, or we could listen to music, play games, anything really” you said sounding unsure.

Illya watched you closely, why did you want to spend so much time with him. Perhaps it was because you liked him? The idea of you liking him more than a friend both exited and scared him. But seeing how hard you were trying to get him to spend time with you he sighed while giving in.

“Fine” he said almost forcefully. But seeing the bright smile that spread across your face, he had to force himself not to smile back at you.

“Yay! I promise it will be fun! Come by my room at seven and we will start then” you said excitedly as you turned and left.

Illya watched you practically skip away, letting a small smile form on his face. If there was one thing he loved, it was seeing you happy.

You started preparing your room piling up every cushion and blanket you could find. You were going to build a blanket fort once he arrived. After gathering everything, you looking around the large room, shuddering briefly. One of the real reasons you wanted Illya to stay with you was because this room was terrifying. The tall dark walls, the sculpted ceiling covered in the designs of Angels. The whole room had an eerie feeling to it, and you really disliked being alone in it. You were originally going to ask Gabby to stay over but you wanted to feel safe. And no offense to Gabby, Illya was the one who made you feel the most safe. Solo did too, but you didn’t know him as well.

As seven rolled around you waited impatiently for the large Russian to arrive. Sitting in a chair you froze at the creaking sound of the room. “I really wish it didn’t do that” you said quietly to yourself. Gasping at the sudden knock on your door you sighed as you quickly stood and ran to the door.

When you opened the door you saw Illya holding a bag “Hello” he said simply, almost awkwardly.

Standing aside so he could walk in, you looked down at the bag he was carrying “What’s that?”

“You mentioned that people play games at these...sleep overs, so I brought you some” he turned, handing you the bag.

Grabbing it and looking in you smiled “Mousetrap, Monopoly and..chess?” looking up at him with a raised eyebrow he shrugged his shoulders.

“I didn’t know what you liked” he said simply. Turning to the pile of blankets and pillows he spoke slowly “Did something explode?”

Chuckling you set the bag on the table and walked over the the blankets “No, I thought we could build a blanket fort”

“A what?” he asked frowning at you.

“A blanket fort. It’s like a fort...made out of blankets”

He glared at you "Yes okay...but why?” 

“Because it’s fun, and comfortable”

Staring at you for a moment he sighed “Alright” he walked over and picked up a blanket “How do we start with this..blanket fort?”

Smiling you started moving around the blankets and explaining to him how you should form the fort. After about twenty minutes you were content with what you two had made. 

“See? Fun” you said panting as you crawled out of the fort after propping it up.

“I would say frustrating, but alright” he said kneeling down and looking inside “how am I suppose to fit in that?”

“We don’t have to stay in it, we lay down, like this. And we can have a game right here” you said patting the floor in front of you.

“Ah, I see” Turning he grabbed the bag of games ”what should we play first?”

After having played, and won mousetrap you decided to set up a game of chess “I haven’t played this in a long time, you might have to remind me of some of the rules along the way” you said setting up your pieces.

“Of course. Who did you use to play with?” he asked glancing over at you

“My dad. It was his favorite game” you said smiling fondly

Nodding his head he spoke quietly “I use to play with my father as well when I was a child”

About half way through the game you looked over at Illya, who was deep in thought about his next move “Thanks for doing this by the way”

Looking over at you he nodded “It’s alright. I must admit, this is much more..fun then I thought it would be”

Smiling you budged his shoulder with yours “I told you it would be”

Rolling his eyes playfully he made his next move “But I still don’t know why you asked me” 

“Umm, because we are friends” you excused.

Hearing the doubt in your voice he squinted at you “There is another reason though. I can hear it in your voice”

Just as you were about to defend yourself another groan came from the walls of your room. Both you and Illya looked around. Deciding to admit why you had really asked him here you spoke shyly “This room scares me”

Illya, looking from the roof over to you saw the genuine discomfort in your eyes “You asked me here...because you were scared?”

Seeing you smile shyly and nod your head he felt a burning in his chest, a warmth he wasn’t use to. Restraining himself from smiling he spoke as seriously as he could “Well you don’t have to worry, I will protect you from the scary groaning walls”

Turning to him you glared at him, smacking him on the shoulder you were slightly surprised when he laughed out loud.

“You’re so mean” you said chuckling.

“I am joking, I’m joking. But...I am glad that I make you feel safe” he said genuinely, his heart still pounding. 

Just as you were about to speak, you let out a yawn. Ignoring it and making another move on the chess board you felt Illya staring at you.

“You are tired, do you want to go to bed?”

“No no, let’s finish the game first” you said yawning once again.

Smiling at you he turned back towards the board, making a large move he turned towards you “Check Mate”

“Wha-..how. I hate you” you said glaring at him

Chuckling again he moved the board away from the fort, turning slightly towards you he spoke with a hint of confusion “If you took all the blankets and pillows from the couch and bed for this fort..where are we going to sleep?”

Looking at him you raised an eyebrow, speaking as if the answer was obvious “In the fort” 

Suddenly feeling nervous he turned his head and looked into the fort “Together?”

Hearing the nervousness in his voice you chuckled “I don’t kick in my sleep if that’s what you’re afraid of” you said turning and crawling into the fort.

Grabbing a pillow and patting the area next to you Illya slowly crawled in as well. Lying on his back he tried to get comfortable. 

Watching him, amused you spoke through another yawn “Have you really never had a sleep over?”

Turning to look at you he shook his head sheepishly “No”

“Hmm, well, how was your firs one then?” you said closing your eyes

Watching you, he spoke quietly “It was good...thank you”

“Yerwelcome” you slurred out, sleep beginning to take you.

Illya watched you contently as he grabbed a nearby blanket and covered you. Hearing another quiet groan from the walls of the room, his mind flashed back to what happened before. He made you feel safe. Smiling at the thought, he never really imagined someone would feel safe around him, let alone enough to fall asleep next to him. But you did. And he swore to himself that he would make sure you always felt safe around him.

Requested by @angelpoett