Illya blinks at him strangely, shaking his head, and it’s only then that Napoleon registers he’s said the last part out loud. His secrets almost spilling over the edge, like honey whiskey almost ruining the rug. Maybe he is a little too far gone, his control a little out of his hands.
That’s dangerous.
Source: Toska, by Somedrunkpirate – The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) [Archive of Our Own]
Napoleon is in too deep… Lovely POV in fragments.
Years ago, Napoleon had complained strenuously when Sanders had strong-armed him into the CIA’s training classes for alphas. He was in the prime of his life and no longer some sort of schoolboy, easily turned by an omega’s seasonal pheromones, or so he had said at the time. Now the training kicked in, and Napoleon breathed a little more rapidly and through his mouth, to dilute the effect. Illya seemed to notice, smirking faintly.
“You’re an omega,” Napoleon grit out, once his head had cleared a little. “That wasn’t in your… I thought you were null.”
“Very rude thing to say. We are in public.” Illya said dryly, which was true.
Source: Tiger, Tiger, by manic_intent – The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) [Archive of Our Own]
This might be one of the few fandoms where I actively seek out A/B/O fics, just because Illya will never be a wilting flower. 😉 This one is excellent because it very much plays with the expected gender roles.
The thing is, Illya’s daemon doesn’t behave like a daemon. She behaves like, well, a cat.
Source: The Curious Nature of Felines, by rallamajoop – The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
I adore daemon!AUs, and this one has some great world-building as well as a Napoleon who can’t stop himself from wondering – and touching…
The truth is that Illya doesn’t pick up on Napoleon’s unconventional preferences until they become mission relevant. Then it’s all ice water in his veins, heat on his cheeks, eyes cast to the splay of his boots on their hotel carpet because he does not want to be caught looking shocked.
It shouldn’t be shocking. So many small, confusing things about Napoleon are making sense now, converging and collecting to form a neat profile in Illya’s mind. Of course, he thinks again. Of course, of course.
I love the characterisations here, how desperate both men are, how afraid and yet unable to stay away.
“There is something you should know before making a final decision.”
“I’m already aware he’s Russian, sir,” Napoleon said. “And he’s still on good terms with them, so he must at least technically be a Communist.”
Waverly brushed that aside. “All of the Russian agents are. Kuryakin, however, is also an admitted homosexual.”
Source: Waging World Peace – Chapter 1, by Alex51324 – The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
A great getting-together fic set in the original tv!verse.
Absolutely adore the song choice!
He shoots another guard in between the eyes, checking his surroundings once again before holstering his handgun. “All clear,” he says, putting his back towards Napoleon.
“Good work,” Napoleon says – and he sniffs the air. Illya freezes, anticipating. “Do you smell that -”
“No,” Illya says, walking away from Napoleon, down the corridor, towards a room he briefly recalled had a somewhat passable lock. The heat has increased in intensity now, from smoldering embers to a fireplace’s warmth, and Illya has no illusions that it will stop there. He can feel something wet seeping its way down towards his thighs; he walks faster.
Source: two guys fuck maybe, by sweetsinnerchild – The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) [Archive of Our Own]
What can I say? I have a soft spot for omega!Illya – probably because his personality makes the kind of woobification I dislike in other a/b/o fics kind of impossible. 🙂
A reincarnation AU – how the hell does Chinese fandom do these incredible concept vids?!?
One of my favourite vidders doing another excellent vid for an excellent (but underrated) movie… I love their chemistry so much!
There’s something under his turtleneck. A slight bulge. Napoleon has never noticed it before.
Not breaking eye contact, Napoleon lets his hand rest on the dip of Illya’s clavicle. Illya doesn’t move, except to tip his chin up, very slightly. Carefully, Napoleon hooks his thumb over the collar of the turtleneck, and pulls it down to expose Illya’s throat.
There is an inch-wide, gunmetal collar sitting just under his Adam’s apple. There is a complicated mechanism to one side: the lock. There are abrasions along Illya’s neck, some old and some new. Napoleon wonders, in dull horror, when Illya had been fitted for this.
This series is amazing, crafting Napoleon’s and Illya’s relationship from a very interesting D/s concept that goes way beyond smut. It made me feel so much for both men.
