• Characters: Reader x Illya Kuryakin
• Warnings: alcohol consumption
• Gif credit: harleyqiunn
• Spotify Prompt: 25. Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel: “You’re the only one worth seeing, the only place worth being.”
• Word Count: 505
• A/N: i was going to write this with billy russo but i decided to save him for another prompt. anyway! where is the sequel for this movie!!!! (spotify prompts are not open)

Illya can’t seem to catch a break. Between Napoleon’s antics and Gaby’s refusal to listen to him, Illya can feel his sanity slipping away from him as he struggles to work with the teammates he’s forced to cooperate with. An American, a German and a Russian, all working together? The world must truly be ending.

There is one saving grace to the whole situation, at least, one that Illya is incredibly grateful for. Out of all his teammates, he found himself taking a liking to you the most. Intelligent and incredibly skilled, it wasn’t long before Illya found himself completely captivated by you. Perhaps it was just because you didn’t annoy him as much as the others, but Illya knows that you’re his favorite in the team. 

However, Illya can’t help but wonder if his patience is about to completely run out as he finds you and Gaby drunk in your hotel room while you’re supposed to be preparing for tomorrow’s mission.

He’s quick to usher Gaby out, guiding her back to her hotel room across the hall that she’s supposed to be sharing with Napoleon. He’s not in there, as Illya expected, no doubt seducing some woman at the bar downstairs rather than taking care of his supposed fiancée. Turning back to his own room with his own fake spouse, Illya closes the door behind him as you goofily smile at him from your armchair, waving your glass of whiskey as you remark, “Why must you ruin the fun?”

Illya moves to sit beside you, taking the bottle of whiskey away from you and prying your glass out of your hands. “You’ve had enough.”

You pout at him, and Illya struggles to keep a straight face at your adorable expression. Shaking his head, Illya points to the bed as he continues, “You must sleep. We will deal with your hangover tomorrow.”

You chuckle, leaning your head back as you sink deeper into the armchair. Illya rolls his eyes, the annoyance obvious in his expression, and he remarks, “Do I have to carry you to bed?”

You can’t help but laugh, and Illya’s expression softens. He quickly lowers his head, hoping you don’t see his smile, but you lean forward, teasing, “Is that a smile I see?”

Illya shakes his head. “No.”

“You know, you act all tough and cold,” you settle back down in the armchair. “But I reckon you’re a big softy on the inside.” 

Illya can see your eyelids fluttering closed, and he lets out a quiet sigh. Before he can say anything, you sleepily mumble, “You take the bed. I’ll just sleep here.”

He watches you as you finally doze off, curled up with your head resting on your arms. You looks so peaceful, he thinks, and he finally lets himself smile. Perhaps he may be soft on the inside, he thinks, but only for you. Shaking his head, he gets up, gently picking you up in his arms, careful not to wake you, and carries you to the bed, anyway.