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thebadboyfanclub · 4 years

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I Got You (Napoleon x Reader)

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

“This better be worth it Waverly”

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

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

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

“Napoleon Solo. The thief”

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

“(y/f/n), you’ve grown up”

“you got old”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m really sorry for your brother”

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

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

“What is going on over there?”

“Excuse me dear”

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

“Thank you, Thank you”

“I wonder what they do to people without invitations”

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

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, thank you very much Darling”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even me?”

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

“Roberto Russo, charmed”

“Brigitte Richard”

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

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

“I saw you were talking to my aunt”

“Oh you are related to Victoria?”

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

“How could I ever refuse?”

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

“My dearest Roberto, how are you?”

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

“I’m doing well... who might he be?”

“Jack Devinsky, Nice to meet you”

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

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

“Of course, anything for my nephew”

“It will only take a minute dear”

“I am counting”

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

“You look stunning if that isn’t obvious”

“Thanks”

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

“You are mad at me”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it still upsets me though”

“That sounds like a personal issue to me”

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

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

“Napoleon”

“May I come in?”

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

“What do you want?”

“To talk”

“About what?”

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

“(Y/n) I know-”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING

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

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

“Damn right I do”

“Will you just listen?”

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

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

“I’m sorry”

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

“I never lied”

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

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

“I had to leave”

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

“You know I would never cheat on you”

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

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

“(Y/n) stop, you’ll cut yourself”

“I’m fine Napoleon”

“(Y/n) the maid can do it”

“I said I’m- FUCK”

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

“I said I’m fine”

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

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

“Why did you leave?”

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

“Yet... here we are”

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

“You kept the necklace”

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

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

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t”

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

“You are too pretty to cry over me”

“I missed you Napoleon”

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

“I missed you too munchkin”

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

“Will we be alright?”

“I got you munchkin, I got you”

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noladyme · 3 years

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La Cuervo - Chapter 22

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

22.

They didn’t speak much in the morning. For once, Angel had decided to set an alarm, and more or less jumped out of bed, the moment his phone began buzzing. His mind seemed as focused as professional soldier’s; and he made even the actual veteran – Coco – seem relaxed in comparison. It had rained during the night, and the air smelled fresh; but didn’t lighten Nina’s mood, as she sat smoking a cigarette on the porch, while the two men packed up Coco’s extra guns. EZ showed up in the van, with Letty and Gaby in the passenger seats. Angel helped Nina in to the seat Letty had previously occupied. The teenager got on her dad’s bike with him, before they all began driving down the street.

Gaby looked worriedly at Nina, as she sat between EZ and her. “Are you alright?”, she asked quietly. “Ezekiel told me what happened…”. “I’m… I don’t know”, Nina muttered. She cleared her throat, wanting to think about anything else than the pain currently surging in her leg. “Are youok? Have you gone on lockdown before?”. “No”, Gabriella said. “This is all very new to me”. “How do they do it up north?”, EZ asked Nina. “I don’t think it’s different than here”, Nina said. EZ frowned, making her question his experience with situations like this as well. “You’ve never done this before either, have you…?”. “No…”, EZ admitted. “It’s never been necessary”. “It’ll be fine”, Nina said, trying to convince herself as well as the two lockdown debutants. “We just have to keep our heads low, and the gates locked… Is your pap’ coming?”. “He says he can protect himself…”, EZ muttered. “But he’ll be by later with the meat he was bringing for the party anyway”. “I’ll try to get him to stay”, Nina said. EZ gave her a thankful smile.

When they arrived at Angel’s place – her place, as Nina reminded herself – the others waited by the vehicles, while she and Angel went inside to gather what they needed. Nina hobbled through the living room, as Angel began closing the windows, after the exterminator visit. Once in the bedroom, Nina began packing some clothes and essentials. She went to get her gun, but remembered that Camille had used it; and that the police probably had taken it for evidence. “Fuck!”, she exclaimed. “What?”, Angel asked, coming running into the bedroom. “My gun… It was the one Camille… It has my prints all over it!”. “EZ told the cops you fought her for it, so the prints shouldn’t be an issue”, Angel said, his voice relieved that he hadn’t found her in trouble. “Is it registered?”. “No, and the serial is filed off… I did grow up with SAMCRO”, Nina grunted. She sighed heavily, and sat down on the bed, to get some weight off her leg. “Is there enough first-aid stuff at the clubhouse?”. “Why?”, Angel asked. Nina shot him a hard look. “You know why”, she replied. “We’re also gonna need a couple of pre-paids in case of emergencies… We’ve got food and drinks, because we were getting ready for the party… I wish there was a proper kitchen, though… And extra guns. Anyone who can shoot should be carrying…”.

Angel crouched in front of her, and took her hands in his own. “Breathe, mami… We got this, ok? You don’t have to worry”. “Well, I am fucking worried!”, Nina growled. “If Bishop had an old lady, it would be her responsibility to keep the people in the clubhouse comfortable. Now I have to…”. “You know what you’re doing… I hear you had a good teacher”, Angel smiled. “Teller’s mom, right? She was good queen…”. “Yeah… most of the time”, Nina muttered. She still felt ambivalent about how Gemma had fulfilled her duties; mainly due to how she’d ended her reign by breaking Jax’s heart, and killing his wife. She’d also been a good friend and surrogate aunt, though; at least in the beginning. “Just do what you always do. We’ll take care of the rest”. “Yeah… You’re gonna go get fucking murdered, while I serve potato-salad to scared hangarounds…”. Angel leaned forward, and caught her lips in a warm kiss. “I’m coming back to you”, he said. “Promise me…”, Nina said. He placed her hand on his chest, just above his heart. “I swear, cuervo…”. He kissed her again, and got to his feet. “I’m gonna go get my extra hardware. Do you remember where I put the Beretta?”. “You can’t remember where you put your guns?”. “Some of them are kinda small… They get lost”, he muttered. Nina rolled her eyes. “Behind the toilet-rolls in the cabinet under the bathroom sink”, she sighed.

Angel left the room, and Nina got to her feet again; leaning against her crutches. “What the fuck?”, Angel yelled. Nina hobbled after him as quickly as she could. “What’s wrong?”, she asked, and tried to look out from behind him, as he stood in the doorway. “What the hell is that?”, Angel said, and pointed at something skinny and furry; cowering in the corner of the shower. Nina gasped, and pushed past him. “Don’t…! It’s just a poor kitty”, she said. Limping slowly forwards, she got to her knees in front of the shaking tabby. “Hey bug…”, she cooed, and stretched out her hand. The cat hissed, before leaning its head forwards to sniff her. “Get the fuck out!”, Angel growled, and took a threatening step forward. “Stop it! You’re scaring it…”, Nina said.

The cat hissed again, but Nina kept her hand out; and after a few moments, it stepped forward, and blinked slowly at her, before pushing its forehead against her hand. It was missing part of its left ear, and from the looks of its pronounced hipbones, it was clear it hadn’t had a proper meal in quite a while. The skin was sagging off it, and bellow its belly. “It’s a stray… Probably has all sorts of diseases”, Angel grunted. “It probably jumped through the window to get out of the rain”, Nina said, ignoring Angel’s displeased tone. “Do we have anything for it to eat?”. “No”, Angel said coldly, and walked over to grab the cat. “I’ll throw it outside. Close the window, so it doesn’t come back in”. Nina looked hard at him. “No!”, she said. “It needs food and care…”. “Nina…”. “You said we could get a cat!”. “Not this one!”, Angel declared. “We can go to a shelter or something. Get a kitten. I’m not taking in some old, ratched…”. His words drowned in Nina’s exclamations of aww, as the tabby once again pressed its head against her hand, and let her scratch it behind its ears. “Angel… Look at him…!”. “How do you know it’s a he?”, Angel grunted. “I’d think you’d recognize a pair of balls when you saw them”, Nina chuckled. The cat stroked its entire body against her thigh. “Such a good bug… That’s your name, isn’t it…? Bug…”.

Angel groaned loudly, and shook his head. “We gotta go”. Nina was lost in cuddling her new friend. “Mami… Nina! We gotta hit the road… Look, we’ll keep the window open. If it’s still here when we come back, we’ll talk about it”. “Please, just put out some food for him…”, Nina pleaded. “But then he’ll stay for sure!”. “Yeah…”. She shot out her lower lip in a pout, and looked pleadingly at Angel. The biker groaned again, and left the bathroom for a few moments, before returning with an open tin of tuna. He dropped it on the floor. “Here… eat, cat”, he grunted. “His name is Bug”, Nina said with a chiding tone. Angel put his arms under hers, and raised her to her feet. “Fine. Bug. Let’s go”, he muttered, and led her out of the bathroom.

At the last second, Nina grabbed Jax’s helmet. She wasn’t planning on riding on the back of any bikes any time soon, due to her leg; but she felt naked without it near her.

EZ met them by the front door, as they were on their way out. “Bro, what took so long?”. “We were adopting a cat”, Angel said. “A cat?”, EZ asked. “His name is Bug…”, Angel replied. “Don’t ask”. Nina smirked, and tugged at his cut, to get him to lean down for a kiss; before they went back to the van.

---

The yard was crowded with bikes when they finally arrived. Bishop and Hank met them on the porch; and Nina was reminded of Taza’s decision to tell the club his secret, the day before. Not seeing him next to the president, made a knot form in her stomach. “What the fuck took you so long?”, Bishop growled. “Cats… bugs…”, Angel muttered. “Don’t ask”, EZ chuckled.

Angel helped Nina up the stairs to the clubhouse. Once inside, they were greeted by the rest of the Mayans, and a few bikers from the Oakland charter. Nina recognized them from SAMCRO parties, but didn’t know any of their names, save Alvarez’s. El Padrino himself gave her a polite nod from his seat by the bar. She scanned the room for Taza, and frowned when she realized he wasn’t inside either. Angel put a hand on her hip. “Go sit down”, he muttered, and went over to talk to Gilly. Chucky pulled out a chair for her, and Nina sat down; soon joined by Letty and Gaby – the latter looking quite uncomfortable with the situation. EZ squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, before going to stand by the wall, behind Bishop. Chucky went outside, to keep an eye on the gate.

Most of the hangarounds Nina knew from around the clubhouse was spread throughout the room. There was a group of women Nina had not met before, stood around a striking middle-aged woman, who looked like Riz. Nina decided she was probably Vicky, and that the women were employees at the brothel. Vicky gave her a curious look, as if challenging her to have a bad opinion of them. Nina simply smiled friendlily; and Vicky’s expression softened, before she nodded in greeting.

Gilly came over to Nina, and handed her a small plastic bag, with white pills. “Oxys”, he muttered. “For your leg”. “Thanks…”, Nina said. Gilly winked at her, and slipped away.

“You know why we’re here”, Bishop said; lifting his voice to catch the attention of the people in the room. “We have a rival club moving in on our territory. Vatos Malditos have been coming for our business, by trying to convince a long-time partner to end our relationship with them; in return for what they claim is a better deal. They even put a rat in our midst; a rat that ended up seriously hurting a member of our family, while trying to kill her”. There was a murmur of curses. Bishop raised his hand to quiet everyone down. “We have to answer this disrespect with force… You’re all here because you’re a part of the family, and because we don’t want anyone else to get hurt. We don’t know that VM won’t send a few guys this way; but as long as you stay within the fences, you’ll be safe”. Hank stepped forward, apparently the de facto VP. “We have the Sons of Anarchy coming down from San Bernadino and Charming. Creeper will stay behind here with a few Sons, for your protection”, he said. Creeper didn’t seem happy about the fact that he wasn’t going with his brothers. He’d probably lost a draw for the post. “If you have any security questions, take it up with him”. “Anything to do with provisions or comfort, you go to our den-mother”, Bishop said, and gestured towards Nina. “Nina isn’t very mobile at the moment, but she can point you in the direction of what you need. She knows this place like her back hand”. Angel shot her a warm smile, and she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Chucky came running in to the clubhouse. “They’re here”, he grinned. A roar of bikes came from the yard, and soon after, Filip stepped inside, followed by Les Packer. Happy, Rat and Tig came in behind them, and Nina saw a group of SAMDINO Sons waiting outside by the bikes. The room was getting crowded. Foregoing custom, Filip strode over to Nina, and pulled her up into his arms. “We didn’t send you back to get shot, luv’”, he said. “I’m ok”, Nina muttered; then winced, when she accidentally put weight on her bad leg. “Fuck’s sake…”, Filip growled. Angel sprang over to support Nina as she got back to her seat. Happy and Tig stepped over to kiss her forehead and squeeze her shoulder, and Rat gave her a shy smile, before they all went to greet Bishop and Alvarez.

After the obligatory back and forth between the patches, Filip, Alvarez and Bishop went into templo, to speak in private for a few moments. Angel headed over to the bar to grab a drink for himself and Nina. While he was gone, Packer came over to greet Nina. He bent down, and gave her a gentle hug. “How are you doing, Neens?”, he asked, and sat down next to her. “I’m alive”, she shrugged with a half-smile. “This is a new setup for you, sweetcheeks”, Packer said. “You comfortable here?”. “Yeah… why?”. “I dunno… You could have been happy in Berdoo as well”, Packer teased. Angel came back with a mug of coffee for Nina, and a beer for himself. “I like the accommodations here”, she smiled, and looked at Angel. “Yeah, I heard…”, Packer said, and raised a brow at the Mayan. “You’d probably have to deal with less gun-shots though. We’re more careful with who we let in our midst”. “It was a mistake that won’t happen again”, Angel grunted, and gave Packer a hard look. “It better not. This isn’t some random croweater you’ve borrowed from Charming”, Packer said. “No. She’s not”, Angel said. “She’s a Mayan old lady”.

Nina rolled her eyes, and pulled out a cigarette. Both men whipped out a lighter, and raced to light them; before holding them in front of her face. “If you two could stop measuring dicks for a moment, you might notice you’re burning off my eyebrows”, Nina sneered. “Sorry, cuervo”, Angel muttered. Nina gave him a slight smile, and a soft kiss, before letting Packer light her smoke. “You still a crow then?”, the SAMDINO president asked, having noticed Angel’s nickname for her. “I’m still me…”, Nina said. “I’ve just got a bigger family now”. “Good for you”, Packer said, and took her hand; giving it a gentle squeeze. “Jax would be happy for you… after he kicked this guy’s ass for diddling his baby-sis”. Angel chuckled at this. “Like he threatened to do you, if you tried anything?”, Nina said. “I didn’t know you were only seventeen at the time!”, Packer laughed. “Bullshit. You arrived the day before my eighteenth birthday-party; and sat at the clubhouse the whole night, looking at your watch to wait for midnight, so I’d be legal”, Nina smirked. “Guilty”, Packer shrugged. “Didn’t do me much good, though; did it…? Teller was a hardass when it came to you. I didn’t stand a chance with him watching over you like a hawk”. They shared a knowing laugh, before Packer looked at Angel. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Reyes. I know when to back off”, he said. “And she’d probably cut my balls off, before you got a chance to, if I tried anything… You’ve got a special lady here”. Angel smiled, relaxing a bit in his seat. “I know…”, he said, and kissed Nina’s temple.

Bishop came out of templo, and nodded to the other bikers. Mayans and Sons alike got to their feet, and began moving towards the ornate door. Angel put a hand on the back of Nina’s head, and caught her lips in a warm kiss; before joining the others. Packer gave her a sly wink, and followed Angel. “Prospect. You too”, Bishop called after EZ. Gabriella gave him a worried look, and he slipped over to give her a quick peck on the cheek, before walking in to templo, and closing the door, once everyone was inside.

Nina got on her feet, and hobbled over to sit down next to the girl. Gaby was visibly shaking, and Nina took her hand. “I know this is all really scary; but we’ll be ok”, she said. Having SAMCRO, SAMDINO and the Mayans all in the same house made her believe her own words more than she had thought she would. “But, what if he gets hurt?”, Gaby asked. “I didn’t even tell him…”. “Tell him what?”, Nina said. Gabriella met her eyes, and they gave away the words she’d had trouble saying. “Oh… Well, I think he knows already; but it wouldn’t hurt his courage and desire to come back whole, if you said it…”. Gaby smiled softly. “I suppose you’re right”, she said.

Letty came over to join them, carrying a couple of cokes for her and Gaby. “Are you talking about your boyfriends?”, she smirked. “You guys could become sisters-in-law!”. “Whoa! Angel and I just got a cat. We’re not talking diamond rings yet”, Nina said. “Good. I don’t think he can afford one”, Leticia teased.

---

After about an hour, the bikers emerged from templo with somber expressions. Angel strode over to Nina, and took her hand. “We’re meeting Palo by the east tunnel”, he muttered. “What’s gonna happen?”, Nina asked nervously. Angel sighed. “We’re not giving him what he wants, so we’re prepared for a fight”. Nina shuddered. Knowing it was a lost cause, she hadn’t been able to keep from at least hoping that Filip and the others would be able to talk the Mayans out of full-on war. Their own experience with rival groups, made them well aware of the devastation something like that could bring a club. Stories of Abel’s kidnapping and Half-Sack’s death – both by the hands of a disgruntled IRA-member – and Gemma’s rape and beating by right-wing psychos, should have been enough fodder for the Mayans to decide to back down, and try to find another way out of the situation. “Shit…”, she hissed. “But what about what Taza told you? Can’t you just use that…?”. “The prez’ didn’t even mention it”, Angel muttered. “I don’t know… its like he’s pretending the conversation never took place”. “Where is Taza?”, Nina asked. “I don’t know… He went home last night. At least he said he was going home…”. Nina frowned. “It’ll be ok", Angel tried. “I gotta go clear some details with Bish…”. He squeezed her hand, and slipped away to go speak with his president.

Filip, Tig and Happy came over to take turns hugging her tightly. “We’ve been here before, muffin”, Tig said. “Walk in the park”, Happy muttered. “Rat’s staying behind with one of the SAMDINO-guys. You’ll be safe”. Filip made her sit down, and crouched in front of her. “You know the drill”, he said meaningfully. “We’re coming back. But if we don’t…”. “I know who to call, and in what order…”, Nina muttered. “Be careful“. “You just keep this clubhouse in shape, and have the beers ready for our return", Filip smiled. He pulled out a black handgun, with a dark wooden handle. The distinct SOA A was carved in to the wood, just over the initials, JT. “That .38 only seems to bring you trouble…”, Filip said, and put it in her hand. “I thought you were saving this for Abel…”, Nina croaked. “Jackie didn’t want guns in his boys’ hands… He didn’t want them in yours either, but seeing as things have turned out…”. Nina stuck the gun down the back of her waistband. “Thank you…”. Filip pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the three SAMCRO bikers headed towards the door with Packer.

Angel came back over to say goodbye. “I hate this, Angel”, Nina croaked. “I know, querida… But this is the way it’s gotta be”, Angel said. He gathered her into his arms, making her lean against him. Their lips instantly met in a frenzied kiss; hungrily devouring each other. Nina breathed Angel in, as if it was the last kiss, they’d ever share; and in all honestly, she was afraid that it might be. Brushing her tongue against Angel’s lower lip, he let it meet his own; tasting her, and letting her taste him. “I love you”, Nina whispered. “Te amo”, Angel replied. “I’m coming back”. He pressed a last kiss against her lips.

Nina saw Gaby whisper something in EZ's ear, and he smiled happily at her. After EZ had kissed his love, Angel gave the girl a warm hug. “I’ll make sure he comes back too”, he said, trying for a smile. Gaby nodded, and Nina took her hand, holding it tightly. Coco kissed Letty’s forehead, and muttered something in her ear, before handing her over to Nina; who wrapped her free arm around the teenager. The Mayan gave Nina a half hug, and followed Angel out the door. “They’ll be ok”, Nina said. “But we need to get ready”.

Once the door was closed behind the men heading out, she gave Creeper a look, and the Mayan raised his voice. “Listen up, people. Nina’s got work for you!”. Gaby handed Nina her crutches, and she hobbled into the middle of the room. “We need people to take care of food. The back room is full of provisions; do what you can with it. Felipe will be here later with meat for the grills. I wanna see him when he does…”. Creeper nodded, and a few of the women moved towards the back room. Gabriella joined them, much to Nina’s joy. “You’re free to the bar, but remember why we’re here. Getting wasted isn’t a good idea… Does anyone have medical experience?”. One of the women from Vicky’s place raised her hand. “I’m in nursing school”, she said. “Great”, Nina smiled. “I’m not saying we’ll need it, but I’d like you to set up a first-aid station, in case we do; and the guys are unable to cross the border for the doc”. “Ok… yeah!”, the woman smiled; seemingly proud that she could contribute with something important. Vicky gave Nina a warm smile. “The rest of you, chip in wherever you can. We all have a responsibility to make our stay here as comfortable and safe as possible… That means, don’t flirt with the guys on watch”. Creeper chuckled at this, and patted Rat’s shoulder. They had the first shift, and headed for the door.

Nina blew out a deep breath, and sat back down. Vicky came over with a refill for her mug. “Welcome to the family”, she smiled, and winked at her.

---

The hours dragged by. They had no word from the men in the field, and every time the door opened, Nina’s heart jumped; hoping that her loved ones would walk in.

While Nina sat on her chair, her leg throbbing in pain, making her unable to walk around, Letty paced the floor for the both of them. “If he dies, I’m gonna fucking kill him!”, she growled. “Then I’ll bury him next to Celia, in her dick-shaped hole in the desert!”. “Letty, sit down”, Nina said. “Why?”. “Because your pacing is giving me a headache”. Leticia sat down, and Nina noticed tears forming in her eyes. “We just started being a family… And now he might…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Nina took her hands. “Coco is a survivor, and he’s gonna do whatever he can to get back to you”, she said. “You think so?”, Letty muttered. “I know so”, Nina smiled. “Your dad loves you, Letty. He’s not gonna leave you”.

Letty wiped her eyes, just in time for Gaby to come over with two plates filled with deliciousness. “I did what I could with what’s here”, she said. “It looks amazing”, Nina said. “But I’m not really hungry”. “You have to eat, if you’re taking pain-medication”, Gaby enthused. “I’m not… I’m trying to keep a level head”. “Just take a fucking pill, Nina”, Letty sighed. “You’re in so much pain, your face is contorted”. “I’m…”, Nina began, before catching the expression on both girls’ faces. “Fine…”, she said, and dug out a pill from the plastic bag in her pocket; downing it with a sip of coffee.

Gaby gave her as bright a smile as she could manage, and pushed the plate of food towards her. Nina took a few bites, when suddenly the door opened, and Felipe stepped inside. He looked around, making it clear it was the first time he’d actually been inside the clubhouse. He frowned slightly, and walked over to Nina. “That guy you call Freak said you wanted to talk to me”, he said. “Creeper”, Nina smiled. “Sure", Felipe said. “Letty, will you help me get the meat?”, Gaby said, and the two girls went out the door. “Please sit. I can’t really stand right now", Nina said. Felipe took the chair just around the corner of the table from her. “I need to get back to the shop…”, he muttered. “You can’t take the day off?”, Nina asked. “The weekend is coming up”, Felipe grunted. “People have family coming for dinner…”. “You’re family”, Nina said. “To these people?”, Felipe asked, and looked at the people in the room. His tone wasn’t disapproving, but he did seem uncomfortable at the view of the scantily clad hangarounds setting up drinks and food; and the nursing student, who was currently preparing bandages, while wearing a barely-there tube top, and a short denim skirt. “To me…”, Nina said, and took Felipe’s hand. “To Gaby…”. They both looked towards Gabriella, who sent them a warm smile, as she came through the door with a container of what looked like steaks.

Felipe sighed deeply. “I told EZ and Angel, I can protect myself”, he said. “Then… stay here and protect us as well”, Nina said. “We don’t know what’s happening out there. It’s dangerous for all of us to be out in the open. Angel and EZ might…”. She chewed her lips and swallowed thickly, trying to suppress tears. “Please stay here with us, suegro”. A smile ghosted Felipe’s lips. “That’s where we’re at, then?”, he said. “You and Angel, I mean”. “I’m… I love him. I really do”. Felipe chuckled. “He’s lucky to have you”, he said. He shot a look at the food prepping station, and rolled his eyes. “Gabriella, lo estás tallando de la manera incorrecta! I told you; follow the bone… Never mind, I’ll show you”. The old butcher got to his feet, and went to take over the carving of the meat. Nina let out a relieved sigh. Felipe was staying.

Needing to get some air, she got to her feet, and used her crutches to move towards the door. A smiling hangaround sprang over to open it for her, and Nina thanked her quietly; before stepping outside. The sky was grey. Apparently, the rain the night before was coming back; she could smell it on the air. She sat down on one of the chairs on the porch, and dug out her cigarettes. Opening the packet, she saw that Coco must have done a reverse pickpocketing when he hugged her; as he’d left her a perfectly rolled joint. She smiled to herself, and considered lighting up; before deciding against it. The oxy was already doing its work, and her leg felt better by the minute. Lighting a cigarette instead, she took a deep huff. The yard was too quiet. The windchimes hung next to the door of the clubhouse, which were usually deafened by the usual sounds of metal screeching and bikes roaring, was all she could hear.

Pulling out Jackson’s gun, she took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She ran her thumb over the letters he’d carved in to the handle. “I remember when you did this”, she said quietly. “Back when you were still stupid enough to think you were immortal…”.

… “What if you lose it? The police will track you down, dumbass!”, Nina said. “I’ll be fine, darlin’”, Jax said, grinning brightly. “Besides, I gotta leave my mark on this world somehow!”. Nina rolled her eyes at him, and picked her book up. “You’re gonna shoot someone, and they’ll track the gun to you”, she growled. Jax chuckled, and stuck the gun down the front of his waistband. “If you don’t shoot your dick off, first”, she muttered. He frowned, and put the gun in the back of his jeans instead. “What are you reading? Teenage-vampire shit?”, he asked. “Screw you… It’s Hamlet. For school”. “O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!”, Jax exclaimed. Nina couldn’t help but smile. “Careful with that gun, or you’ll have me saying: Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest…”. Jax got to his feet, and headed towards the ladder going down from the roof. “We’re meeting up with some Mexican guys… They need our help with something”, he said. “Finish your homework, little sister. We gotta keep your ass out of CaraCara”. He stopped dead in his tracks, and walked back to her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love”. “I love you too… But you’re still a dumbass”, Nina smiled…

“I wish you were here…”, she whispered. “But where ever you are – if there’s anything you can do to keep him safe… all of them… Please”.

She jolted in her seat, when Creeper appeared next to her, a phone in hand. “It’s for you”, he muttered. Nina took the phone, and put it to her ear. Creeper gave her frowning and confused look, before walking into the clubhouse, leaving her alone. “Hello?”. “Nina?”. “Taza?”. “Yeah, it’s me; sweetheart… Do you wanna help me end this war before it starts?”.

---

If you’ve followed this story this far, thank you! Also; It’s my birthday! Make it an even better one, by leaving a comment.

- no lady

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #clayton cardenas #ez reyes

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even-in-winter · 3 years

Note

22. role model?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

62. seven characters you relate to?

Sorry for the late reply!

22. Role Model:

I'm not sure I can pick just 1, but in general people who are kind and speak out for themselves or certain groups of people that have a harder time being heard.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head:

A very stupid add, of which i don't even remember the purpose off (i think it was public transport, but i'm not sure why/how the ad went), and it has the line "Hier, nen Euro" meaning "Here, a Euro". And now everytime someone needs money/asks for it you say those words and everybody just laughs. it is collectively stuck in all our heads here in Flanders lol

62. Seven characters you relate to (in one way or another)

1) Parker (Leverage)

2) Cassandra Cillian (The Librarians)

3) Gaby Teller (The Man from UNCLE)

4) Ilsa Faust (Mission Impossible)

5) Lucy Preston (Timeless)

6) Eliot Spencer (Leverage)

7) Kai Mendoza (Almost Paradise)

#sorry for late reply!#kissedbydragonfire #asks

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alicedopey · 3 years

Text

Third Birthday’s A Charm

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Halfdan x OC (Gaby)

Genre: Modern AU, Romance, Smut-ish

Words: 1794

Warnings: Well, there is a little bit of smut.

Summary: Gaby is not the only one who can make a wish for her birthday.

A/N: This is a birthday gift for my other half, @naaladareia Honey, you are such a kind-hearted and caring person, always there to listen. I wish you the best for your very special day. I love you.

A/N 2: This is the continuation of a little series so if you are interested in reading the first two installments: Part I - Part II

Halfdan woke up at the sound of something crashing on the ground followed by a loud gasp. He groaned and rolled on the side. The floor under his body was different from was he was used to. He blinked a few times and opened his eyes to close them back instantly. There was definitely too much sun here.

“What..what are you doing here?” A feminine voice stuttered.

It was something distant and yet, very familiar. His eyes opened again and abruptly sat up on the floor. He remembered where he was by now – or rather, when he was.

He looked up at the woman who had been in his thoughts for a while. Her jaw was opened, her eyes wide, her hair slightly disheveled and she was wearing some large loose shirt which let her legs show. He smirked.

“Hello!” He rasped.

She seemed to process his word and finally greeted him back. She bent down to gather the broken pieces of the weirdly bright colored pot she had certainly been holding in her hands before dropping it when she spotted him. She left for a few seconds and came back with a wet cloth to wash the liquid that was spilled on her odd floor. When she was done, she gave him a shy look.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? How did you come?”

Halfdan smiled and stood up. “Don’t you celebrate the day you were born today? I thought it was a pattern for us to meet on that special occasion.”

“Maybe…I did not make any wish this time, though.”

“You have your ways, I have mine”. He answered in an enigmatic tone but she was still curious.

“Magic, I guess?”

He nodded. “Of some sort.”

“Why are you here?” She asked, extremely confused.

He approached her, extending a hand to play with a strand of her hair. He scrutinized her face since he did not have to pleasure to do so during the former two times they had met. It seemed so soft and spotless, quite different from the women he knew. It was also very inviting so his hand let go of her hair to run along her cheek.

“I have to admit I was highly suspicious of you at first but when you mentioned something about your birthday wish, I figured the Gods wants us to meet. It was fate.”

She put her hand on his, he got closer as he kept explaining himself. “I went to the Seer who told me my adventurous destiny was waiting for me much further than I thought. It was not the first time he said those words but I always thought I was made to discover every new land until I had reached my destination. Now, I understand what he was meaning.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you are here to stay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s up to the Gods and their mysterious ways. We should enjoy it while we can.”

He pecked her lips. “You got any food? I’m starving.”

¤ ¤

Gaby filled the dishwasher while Halfdan was relaxing on her couch after stuffing his face with the brunch she had prepared: eggs, ham, cheese, potatoes with juice, coffee and tea, that he happened to like more.

She could not help pinching her skin again. Having a Viking in her home could not possibly be true and yet, here he was…and maybe for a long time. It would take a while for him to adjust since he was watching every object around him suspiciously but he was an adventurer so she was certain he would manage in the end.

“What are the plans for today?”

His voice almost made her jump. She had not heard him at all, too lost in her thoughts.

“Nothing special.” She replied. “A nice bath to relax, I’ll probably bake some birthday cake and then I’ll cook some pasta dish for dinner.”

“No big celebration? Nobody is coming here?”

“It is…quite difficult nowadays. To make a long story short, there is some kind of plague going on. We can’t really visit each other and all the places when where we can eat and drink are closed, as well as cinemas or museum.”

He frowned. “What are those?”

“Places to have some fun.” She did not really want to get into the details since she was not ever sure he would go there once. “I could offer you to go outside but we will have to wear a mask.”

Halfdan let out a disgusted sound when she pointed at the numerous masks lying on her cupboard. “No, thank you. I might be up for a bath, though. Shall we?”

“Together?” She squeaked in spite of herself.

“Well, of course”. He eyed her up and down. “Besides it’s not like I have not seen it all before.”

Gaby felt herself blushing like an innocent teenage girl even though the idea of sharing a bath with him was very tempting.

She led Halfdan to her bathroom where he looked everywhere with wide eyes. It gave her time to prepare the bath, adding some lavender bubble bath and relaxing oil. She turned off the water when there was enough and looked at him shyly again. “Bath is ready.”

Halfdan started at the foam suspiciously before getting undressed, and dipped in. Gaby did the same, trying to ignore the fact that he was ogling her shamelessly. The water had a relaxing effect on her and she leaned back against the tub. On the opposite side, Hafldan mimicked her actions.

“Relaxing, isn’t it?”

“It is…how long do we have to stay here?”

Gaby laughed. “Impatient, are we?”

“I’m just not used to laziness, that’s all.” He bit back teasingly.

She threw some water at him playfully. Halfdan suddenly leaned forwards and pulled her against him. She immediately felt his hardness. Her breath hitched as his hand travelled down her back, her ass and her thigh that he grabbed to make her straddle him. He slid into her with a deep sigh. Gaby’s head tilted backwards in pleasure.

“I guess I could get used to this type of laziness.” He rasped before moving in and out of her.

Gaby gripped his shoulders to steady herself and meet his thrusts. The water splashed gently against the tub and soon, only the sound of their lovemaking could be heard.

¤ ¤

After their steamy sexual encounter, they got out of the tub. Gaby gave Halfdan more comfortable clothes that her ex-boyfriend had left in her apartment. It was really confusing to see him wearing some pants and a tee-shirt with his warrior demeanor. It was also very charming if she was honest with herself.

Later, he helped her bake her chocolate birthday cake – well, more like created a mess in her kitchen – but they had fun. Gaby was happy to fall into some sort of domestic life with him. It had been a long time and it felt nice to have someone around her during those very particular times.

Halfdan talked to her about some of his travels and raids. She winced at some of the most gruesome details but enjoyed every word. After all, it was as if she was watching a live documentary about Vikings. Only, it was better than television, better than the show she had enjoyed watching so much. To her surprise, Halfdan was a great story teller, very passionate and entertaining. He was answering all of her questions, pleased to see she was interested in everything he had to tell.

Dinner time came quickly. Halfdan devoured the pasta Gaby had prepared and then watched her blow the candles on her birthday cake.

“What did you wish for this time?”

She smiled. “It will not come true if I tell you.”

He rolled his eyes at her answer. A playful smile suddenly curved his lips upwards. “I am here. What more could you ask for?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes at his cockiness. “Of course. Still, I will not tell you my wish, you sexy murderous Viking.”

His smile widened. “You like calling me that, don’t you? I remember you saying it last time.”

“You remember too many things.” She mumbled under her breath.

Halfdan chuckled. “My brother keeps telling me that.”

Gaby suddenly frowned, thinking of Harald. “Does he know you are here?”

“I told him everything, of course.”

“And he let you leave?” From what she knew of Harald, he was quite possessive when his brother was concerned.

“My brother has his own destiny and I have mine.” He smiled. “To be truthful, he was more inclined to let me leave because he knew it was about a woman. Helpless romantic! I only hope none of them will try and kill him while I’m gone, no matter how long it is.”

Gaby felt a slight pang in her chest when he reminded her that there was a slight chance for him to disappear one day, just as fast as he had arrived. Halfdan sensed her sudden mood change and rose up from his chair to join her. He made her stand up before attacking her lips with a kiss that left them both breathless. They exchanged a lustful gaze.

“Why don’t you show me how sexy you think I am in that oddly over comfortable bed of yours?”

How could she say no to such a proposition?

First, she cleaned up everything while Halfdan was trying to get familiar with his new surroundings and was purposely avoiding the television, a television that he had almost destroyed when she had turned it on to show him what it was. He would definitely need more time with new technology.

When she was done, the two of them went to bed where they had sex and talked some more about Halfdan’s adventures. He held her in his arms. Gaby was happy to have spent another special and eventful birthday for the third time but also worried that there was a possibility he might not be here tomorrow when she would wake up.

Before falling asleep though, she remembered Halfdan’s earlier words. We should enjoy it while we can. He was right. For the moment he was there with her, maybe for a day or maybe for ten years but either way, they seemed to share some special bond as if their destinies were linked. It meant that no matter what happened, they would always find each other again.

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia @flowers-in-your-hayr @gearhead66 @therealcalicali @tephi101 @ivarswickedqueen @akamaiden @peaceisadirtyword @captstefanbrandt @mblaqgi @medievalfangirl

#birthday fic #vikings #gaby's birthday #@naaladareia's birthday #halfdan x oc #Halfdan the Black #romance #modern au #smut

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heytheredeann · 2 years

Note

Hello! I hope you won't mind me asking random question. I was just thinking, how would postcanon Kuryakin react if he had to go to Russia for a mission (with Napoleon and Gaby)? Do you think the KGB would try to do something to him? Thanks in advance for your answer!

Hello! I definitely don't mind, sorry for taking a few days to answer <3 SO here's the thing, I actually think that Illya would be pretty happy about that? I tend to picture him as having a genuine attachment to his home country, and I think he misses it while he's away, even as happy and comfortable as he is with Napoleon and Gaby. I also don't think he'd have much to fear from the KGB, because I imagine Waverly's project as a way to create collaboration between countries and both Illya and Napoleon's involvement as endorsed by their respective agencies. If the KGB were unhappy with the arrangement they would recall him, which for Illya would mean either obey or defect, and tbh I try not to imagine him in that position looool, because like. I don't think it would be an easy choice at all for him. Anyway, I picture him as very loyal to his country (and I think he genuinely believes that the work he does for the KGB helps The People) and so long as the KGB has no real reason to doubt that loyalty I think they would probably leave him alone.

So, back to the original question, I do think he’d be genuinely happy about going back, especially if it’s with his partners and he hasn’t had an occasion to travel back in a while. I also think that there would probably be a misunderstanding there, because he would be very nervous about it, in a I-am-way-too-excited-about-this-and-if-I-breathe-wrong-its-going-to-blow-up-in-my-face way, and so when Waverly tells them where they are supposed to go Illya just goes very very still and kinda shuts down.

Now, I don’t think Gaby and Napoleon have the same attachment to their origins he has. I think Napoleon saw his hometown as more of a confining place than anything else, and as for loyalty to his entire country he kinda burned through all that during the war, and being forced into the CIA didn’t help at all. He may have some Usamerican Pride, but he doesn’t properly miss it when he’s gone or anything. As for Gaby, I think she has a very conflictual relationship with her origins and that she would very much like to leave East Germany where it is, in the past. I think that she rarely even speaks German, she just prefers English, which is my headcanon for why when she and Illya were alone they spoke in English when German would have made more sense, since he can speak it and it’s her first language (Doylistically I think it was just the writers’ decision because the film is supposed to be in English so it was easier to have them speak English, but my Watsonian explanation is that Gaby just refused to speak German with him lol).

My point is, because of their own relationship with their respective countries, when they see his reaction their assumption is that he very much does NOT want to go back.

So when Illya is clearly nervous the entire trip they try to be nice and distract him, they have already privately discussed it and they are determined to make it as comfortable as possible for him---except then they get there, and Illya looks so happy.

I don’t know if this is just me, but even if I’m fluent in English after I’m immersed in it for a long while, by talking or watching a couple of movies or something, switching back to my first language is kind of relieving. I didn’t realize that I was putting in some extra effort while talking/watching, but once I switch back to my normal setting it feels easier. It’s like when there’s a continuous background noise, it’s been there so long that you got used to it, you don’t even realize that you are actively tuning it out, and then suddenly it’s gone and you are like “OH thank FUCK”

So I imagine that Illya would be actually very enthusiastic about getting to talk to people in Russian, about people talking in Russian around him and just being in his element in general, rather than somewhere he stands out as an outsider as soon as he opens his mouth. He just starts talking with people whenever he has the flimsiest excuse, and he’s doing it so fast that even Napoleon can’t follow all of it

These two thought they’d have a broody and miserable partner the entire mission, instead the biggest problem seems to be that he’s struggling to be as professional and focused as he’d normally be, because he keeps looking around with heart eyes and throwing random facts at them when they come across something interesting. Plus, the poor guy probably has months-old good cravings that he couldn’t satisfy abroad, here’s to hoping he has some time to eat some good stuff loool

Also, if he has some family that he’s still in contact with, or some friends, Napoleon and Gaby would absolutely ask very insistently that Waverly give them some post-mission time off so he can go visit, because they are good caring partners

...so yeah LOL, this is all headcanon territory obviously, more speculation than anything else, but these are my two cents <3 Thank you for the question!

#illya kuryakin #gaby teller #napoleon solo #the man from uncle #tmfu #ely replies #not spn #anon #i hope this is at least semi-coherent #my brain is a little scrambled i'm sorry loool

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cha-melodius · 3 years

Text

The Definition of Madness Chapter 6

Whumptober No. 27: Power Outage

Fandom: The Man from UNCLE (2015)

Pairings: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin, Napoleon Solo & Illya Kuryakin & Gaby Teller

Summary: They say the definition of madness is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.

Or, Illya gets stuck in a very whumpy time loop.

Ao3 Link

Ahhh I’m late on this one, but it’s double length, so hoepfully that makes up for it.

*****

Previous Chapter

Illya does not immediately act on his newfound knowledge. It’s both difficult and easy to convince himself to focus on the mission, because although he really wants nothing more than to take a break—he’s been running this op for nearly a month at this point, after all—and take some time to think about whatever this thing is between him and Napoelon, he knows the best way to do that is to end this. Taking ‘rest days’ at the safehouse only goes so far when they’re guaranteed to always end in disaster. Most of the loops still feature one or both of his partners’ deaths, and it never gets any easier to deal with.

So he tries to push the feelings back out of his mind and focus on what he needs to do instead of what he wants. What he needs to be doing is learning more about their targets and trying to come up with some way of finally ending all of this. After all, he is still far behind his adversary in the number of loops he’s had to figure this out. As far as he knows, there are at least twenty more traps they haven’t discovered yet. He likes to think that he won’t need that many more loops to gain the upper hand, but after a few more tries, he finally realizes what he’s missing.

The mysterious man in charge said it himself: it was their team that outsmarted him so many times. Illya is good, but the team is better, and he needs his partners if he’s going to do this. Needs them to really understand the problem at hand. Which is, to put it mildly, difficult when they forget everything each reset. He hadn’t really tried to explain the situation past his first attempt, but now he knows he’s going to have to.

It takes another three loops before he hits on the right combination of uncanny knowledge, plausible explanations, and entreaties to just trust him. Even then his partners don’t look totally convinced, but they do become more willing to play along. And then, on the fourth loop, he somewhat accidentally discovers a completely unexpected and surprisingly effective way of convincing Napoleon, at the very least.

“So wait, how many loops has it been? Twenty-five?” Napoleon asks, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back against the counter in the kitchen. He’s wearing a look that’s unmistakably skeptical but also like he’s trying to be open minded, and Illya really does appreciate the effort.

Illya nods. “Approximately.”

“And we never remember anything?” “I think the fact that you are asking that question is answer enough, no?” Illya replies, arcing an eyebrow at him.

“I guess so,” Napoleon allows. He stares at Illya for a long moment, critical and considering, and Illya has a brief uncomfortable feeling that something about his bearing has changed. Honestly he would be surprised if it hadn’t, what with all he’s been through, but now suddenly it feels like Napoleon can sense exactly what it is.

“And all the loops are pretty much the same?” Napoleon asks. Illya hesistates. In his debriefs he tends to talk only about their attempts on the compound, forgoing much information on the days they’ve stayed at the safehouse. Partly because not much of what happened during them is particularly relevant to the mission, and partly because of the can of worms it threatens to open inside him if he spends too much time thinking about them. But this is the first time Napoleon has directly asked, and something in him pushes him to talk about it.

“Not entirely,” he says cagily. “We’ve stayed back here a couple of times, when my lingering injuries were too severe.”

“How did those days end?”

Illya frowns. “Poorly. The oven is somehow rigged to blow, as is the fireplace. Probably more places, too.”

Napoleon is silent again as he seems to absorb this information. “You really die at the end of every day?” “You do too, on most of them.”

Napoleon winces at that, but Illya knows he’s not thinking about his own deaths, not really. He’s putting himself in Illya’s shoes, imagining what it would be like. “I don’t know how you can take it, Peril.”

“No choice,” Illya mutters.

“Yeah, I get that, it’s just… watching you die, over and over again—” Napoleon’s words bite off as he looks at the ground, and it’s clear that the emotions he keeps so carefully guarded are threatening to escape again.

Illya takes a few steps forward, bringing him within arm’s reach of Napoleon, and it makes his partner look up at him with wide eyes. Eyes full of an emotion that Illya can quite easily read, now. Probably he shouldn’t say anything, but then again, why not? Napoleon won’t remember any of it tomorrow. Which is painful in its own way, but at least Illya knows that if things go poorly, he has another shot.

“The day the oven blew,” he says quietly, “you were dying in my arms. You said… you said you wanted to tell me something. Said you were too much of a coward to tell me before.”

“Did I?” Napoleon whispers, looking somewhat stricken. “Did I… tell you?” Illya shakes his head gently. “No. Didn’t get a chance.” “Oh. Good,” he says, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief. “I mean, not good, really, but I don’t know what I was going to say—”

“I know, Cowboy,” Illya interrupts.

He reaches forward to take Napoleon’s hand, lacing their fingers togther like he’s wanted to do for days now, and suddenly trying to suppress this just feels stupid. Napoleon’s palm is sweaty in his panic, but it doesn’t matter, because his hand is so right in Illya’s. He can’t quite stop a tiny smile from curling the corners of his mouth.

“Y–you do?” Napoleon stammers, his blue eyes wide with disbelief and fear and unmistakable hope.

Illya nods and leans forward to press his lips to Napoleon’s. It causes his partner to stiffen in surprise for a fleeting moment, but then he rapidly seems to melt, lips parting when Illya brings his other hand up to cup Napoleon’s jaw and slides his tongue along his bottom lip. With a slight tip of his head, Illya fits their mouths perfectly together, then smiles into the kiss when the movement elicits a tiny noise of pleasure from Napoleon.

The last few days Illya had, perhaps unsurprisingly, imagined various scenerios in which he’d lost his carefully maintained control and ended up kissing Napoleon during a loop, but most of them had been a desperate crush of lips as one of them was dying, tinged with blood and sorrow. Certainly none of them had been like this, gentle and unhurried, Napoleon almost trembling in his arms with the pure emotion of it.

When they eventually part Napoleon is flushed and breathing hard, and who would have believed that, of the two of them, he would be the one so flustered by this development? Illya gives his hand a small squeeze and receives one in return, and then Napoleon’s mouth splits into a wide grin.

“Is that—” he starts, breaking off with a huffed laugh. “Is that the first time we’ve… done that?” “Yes,” Illya answers as he brushes his thumb lightly over Napoleon’s cheek. “First time.” “So, uh, how did you know, if I— if I didn’t say anything that day…” Illya bites his lower lip against the smug smile he knows is fighting its way onto his face. “One loop, I was sick. Recovering from a concussion, actually, but you didn’t know that. You made me your grandmother’s soup.” “Oh,” Napoleon breathes, flushing red again. “I see. Told you all about it, then?” “Mmhm,” Illya hums.

Napoleon drops his eyes again, muttering under his breath. “Real smooth, Napoleon.”

“I’m glad you did,” Illya tells him. He nudges Napoleon’s chin up until his partner meets his eyes. “And not just because the soup was delicious.”

Napoleon laughs, then, and shakes his head lightly. “I gotta tell you, hearing that is almost more convincing than anything else you’ve said today, because there’s no way you could know about that or… or what it means. But you do. It’s insane, but somehow you do.”

“You really believe me now?” “Yeah, Peril,” Napoleons says sincerely. “I believe you.” Then his lips curl into a mischevious grin. “You know, just a suggestion for the future, but you could maybe lead with that—”

Illya cuts him off with another long, lingering kiss before he pulls back again. “You’re just saying that so you get kissed earlier in the day,” he accuses.

“So what if I am? I think I’m allowed to look out for my future self. Or is it past self? I have to say, this is all very confusing, Peril.”

Illya sighs. “Tell me about it.”

Napoleon might have a point, though.

*****

Turns out, the fastest and most convincing way to introduce the concept of his looping days to his partner is to walk into the kitchen, grab Napoleon’s hand before he burns it on the hot pan, and pull him into a vigorous kiss. Every time, Napoleon freezes in pure shock for what should be a surprisingly short amount of time before he just… goes with it, opening up and chasing Illya’s mouth with no small amount of enthusiasm. It would be almost comical, especially after the whole thing has been repeated several times, if it didn’t make Illya’s heart thunder in his chest every. damn. time.

Sure, it confuses the hell out of Napoleon, but he’s far more ready to believe that Illya is actually repeating the day when Illya knows just how to kiss him in a way that makes his toes curl (his words). By the time Gaby is awake, Napoleon is already completely in his corner, which makes convincing her a lot easier too.

And hell, it’s not a bad way to start the day, especially if you’re going to have to start the same one over and over again.

Unfortunately, that is typically where the romance starts and ends for them on any given day. That’s not to say that they don’t steal kisses during the rare quiet moments, and Gaby is pretty much guaranteed to roll her eyes and throw pebbles at them on the hike up the mountain. But the days are still packed with trying to figure out how to evade the traps and take out their targets, and if Illya sometimes feels like taking a break all he has to do is picture any one of his partners’ myriad deaths.

One morning, they’re all hunched around the map of the compound, watching as Illya adds every trap that they’ve managed to trigger so far to it, as he does every day. He talks through everything he knows, and everything they’ve tried. So far the door he’d found on his solo jaunt remains unopened; even when they’ve successfully gotten there a few times, they’ve always been ambushed before Napoleon could figure out how to open it.

“What about the power?” Gaby asks as she stares pensively down the map. “Have we tried taking it out?”

Illya shakes his head. “No. The substation is hidden somewhere else on the mountain, but I’ve never been able to investigate it.”

“You say the lock on the door has some kind of electronic component?” Napoleon asks.

“Correct.”

“Well, it might have a backup power source, but you never know,” Napoleon muses. “I think cutting the electricity should be our next move.”

It’s surprisingly not that hard to follow the electrical lines to a substation sunk into the mountainside. Which, of course, makes Illya immediately think that it is a trap, but he is surprised again. There are only two guards, and the team takes them out quickly and quietly. The real problem comes in the fact that it will take at minimum fifteen minutes to cover the ground between the substation and the main compound, which is too long. They’re going to need to have one person cut the power when the other two are already in place, so that their targets have no chance to mount a response.

They argue about the distribution of labor, but in the end there is only one option: Napoleon has to go to the compound to crack the lock on the door, and Illya needs to be there because he’s the only one who will remember anything, so that leaves Gaby to kill the power. Illya hates the idea of leaving her alone, because he’ll have no idea if she is in trouble or not, but there’s no way around it. She’ll join them as soon as she can after she does it, and he hopes that at least in some loop he’ll get some confirmation that she’s ok.

Killing the power does disable part of the door lock, but it turns out there is a combination lock underneath, and it takes four loops for Napoleon to discover each number in the combination before they’re cut down by guards.

The minute they actually step foot inside the underground facility Illya knows they are in the right place. He can practically feel it, tingling on his skin. There are cells here—this must be where he’d been held, before—and spaces that look more like medical observation rooms. They move quickly and quietly, trying to search as much of the area as they can before the guards catch up with them. When they’ve gone as far as they can they end up in a well-appointed office, and it must belong to the man in charge, but he is frustratingly not in it. Somewhat unfortunately for them, he is nearby.

Normally the guards in the compound tend to be of the shoot-first-ask-questions-later variety, which works in their favor since it means Illya doesn’t have to worry about not dying. Whenever Illya does something truly unexpected, though, something that has the potential to actually work, it seems to tip off the man in charge. And that? Is not a good thing.

Like this time, when the armed guards that bust into the room just stand there with their guns trained on Illya and Napoleon instead of firing, as if waiting for someone to give the order.

“Now this is a surprise,” the now-familiar tenor croons moments before the man walks through the door. “In my very own office, even.”

Illya and Napoleon trade glances and a silent understanding that it might be useful to get the man talking rather than starting to shoot blindly in the hopes of triggering a new loop. This is, as it turns out, their first mistake.

“I take it one of you is resetting the day,” the man says conversationally, looking at both of them critically. “Given that you made it here. I don’t suppose you’d be so kind as to tell me who it is?”

“‘Fraid not,” Napoleon drawls. “Guess you’ll just have to kill us both.” The man laughs at this idea, which of course everyone knows is absurd. Killing them is the last thing he’d want to do, now that he has them cornered. He stares at them both for another moment, and Illya knows that nothing shows on either of their faces to give them away, but the man nods anyway.

“Shoot the American, and bring the Russian here,” he says dismissively.

“No!” Illya shouts involuntarily, because that is the one situation that cannot happen, but even as he does he realizes he played right into the man’s game.

So, he does the only thing he can, and starts shooting anyway.

The scuffle ends relatively quickly. Illya takes down several guards before he’s overwhelmed by the sheer number of them in the small space and they force him to his knees as they tie his hands behind his back. As luck would have it, though, Napoleon’s position nearer to the door means he manages to get a gun on the man in charge. He unfortunately does not look that perturbed by this development, but he waves a hand to signal the guards anyway. Several of them have their guns still trained on Napoleon, but at least for the moment they don’t fire. “Well, you got yourselves a standoff, if that’s what you were hoping for,” the man says. “But I don't think it’s going to work out for you.”

“You think it’s going to work out for you?” Napoleon scoffs. “Your mercenaries are just that loyal, are they? By my reckoning, I take you out and we go scot free.”

“Oh, Mr. Solo, that is an optimistic viewpoint,” the man replies, grinning cruelly. “My men will, in fact, kill you no matter what. The question is, after you die, who will be here to prevent them from giving your partner the antidote and then killing him? By my reckoning… no one. Something tells me that’s not a sacrifice you’re willing to make, even if you are dead.”

Illya can see realization flicker in Napoleon’s eyes at the truth of this assessment. Gaby won’t arrive in time, and there is no way in hell that Illya will allow the final loop to end with Napoleon’s death. There is only one possible scenerio where they both get out of this.

“Cowboy,” Illya says into the tense silence that fills the room. Napoleon doesn’t look at him, but Illya knows he’s listening all the same. “You know what you have to do.”

“Yeah, right, Peril. I don’t think so. He’s bluffing.” “He’s not.”

“Listen to your partner, Mr. Solo,” the man suggests. “Though I don’t think you will.” He pauses, and turns toward Illya, seemingly ignoring the fact there’s still a gun trained on him. “Did I ever tell you how many loops I had to get to know your little team?” Illya says nothing. He’s certainly not going to give this asshole the satisfaction.

“Fifty, at least. And if there’s one thing I know, it is that your partner would rather die than see you die. So he’s certainly never going to be able to kill you himself.”

“Cowboy,” Illya says again, steadfastly ignoring the man.

Napoleon’s jaw clenches and the muscle jumps under his skin. “He’s right,” Napoleon grits out, almost a whisper.

“He’s not.”

He gives a tiny shake of his head, moving only a fraction. “I can’t.” “You can,” Illya insists. “You have to.”

And then, suddenly, the situation becomes a lot more dire, because the guards have returned with what must be the antidote. The syringe is already full of a blue liquid, ready to inject, and the sight sends a bolt of fear through Illya. He tries to struggle out of the grip of the guards and manages to knock two of them over, but there are just too many.

“Napoleon,” Illya says with more urgency as he’s pressed back down to his knees. “Do it!”

“There has to be another way,” Napoleon protests, glancing to Illya for only a moment.

“There isn’t, you know it,” Illya tells him desperately.

The guard carrying the syringe gets closer and closer, until he’s standing over Illya. They are completely out of time.

“Napoleon!” Illya yells, but his partner’s hard gaze doesn’t waver from the man in charge. “Napoleon, SHOOT ME NOW!”

Finally, Napoleon’s eyes flicker down to Illya, and the anguish in them is unbearable. Illya doesn’t look away. He can’t. Not with what he’s asking Napoleon to do. Distantly, he can hear the man laughing, but the world seems to have narrowed down to nothing more than the two of them.

Please, Illya mouths.

In the next moment, Napoleon drops his gun to Illya, squeezes his eyes shut, and fires.

*****

Illya wakes up with a precise, circular gunshot scar exactly over his heart. It aches, and not in the way the lingering wounds usually do. He lies in bed until he hears Napoleon humming and he knows he needs to get up, but facing the day is excruciating with the memory of what happened in the previous one so fresh in his mind.

He makes it to the kitchen just in time to stop Napoleon from burning himself, and he can’t quite keep the desperation from the kiss he pulls his partner into. This time when he breaks away from the kiss he doesn’t let go of Napoleon, wraps him instead in a hug so tight that the man almost squeaks. He can feel the bewilderment in Napoleon’s rigid posture, moreso even than usual, but then his partner’s arms wrap around him, unquestioning, and he feels the ache in his heart slowly abate by small fractions.

There’s no way around telling them what happened; his partners have to know everything about the previous iterations if they’re going to stay ahead of their adversaries. Illya takes them through the power station and getting the door open, all the way up through their search of the underground facility, before he falters.

“They got the drop on us,” he forces himself to say, not looking at either of his partners. His hand goes white around the pencil as he marks out their positions and those of their opponents on the schematic of the underground level. “Managed to take me, but not you. The man in charge was here. You were nearby, with your gun on him. Bunch of guards here and here, guns on you. They were going to give me the antidote, pull me out of the loop.”

“And?” Gaby prompts, when Illya falls silent again. “Obviously they didn’t.”

Illya shakes his head and finally looks up at Napoleon, and he can tell by the uneasy look in his eyes that his partner is starting to put the pieces together. “I… I needed to die, so I told you to—”

“No,” Napoleon interrupts, shaking his head wildly. “No.”

“Cowboy, there was no other option—”

But Napoleon still doesn’t let him continue. “If I was armed, why wouldn’t I just kill the man in charge? That’s what we want, right?” “It wasn’t going to work,” Illya says, trying to keep his voice steady even as Napoleon becomes more and more agitated. “If you had shot him, the guards would have still killed you and pulled me out, and then there would be no resets. Not for us. It was the lesser of two evils.”

“Bullshit!” Napoleon yells, then turns on his heel and storms out of the house.

Illya’s shoulders sag and he leans heavily on the table as the ache in his chest returns in full force. After a moment Gaby’s small hand slides over top of his, warm and grounding.

“There was no other option,” he repeats, and his voice sounds so small and broken even to his own ears.

“I know that,” Gaby says quietly, soothingly. “And he does too, deep down. He’ll come to terms with it, he will. But right now he needs you to go to him.”

She’s right, he knows she is, as painful as the idea of talking about it is. He finds Napoleon standing on the porch of the safehouse, staring out into the forest. There is unmistakable tension in his shoulders and his hands are clenched into fists at his side. Illya steps out until he is side by side with his partner, and they stand there together, in silence, for a long moment.

“How could I do that?” Napoleon asks eventually, his tremulous voice barely more than a whisper. “I just can't see how I could possibly do it, even knowing you would ‘reset’, or whatever the fuck this is.”

“Cowboy,” Illya says, turning toward him, but Napoleon’s gaze remains fixated on the trees. “Napoleon, look at me.”

Finally, Napoleon turns, and Illya is shocked to see tears streaking his cheeks. He’s never seen Napoleon cry, not even when he was dying in the kitchen, and the sight is fairly terrifying. He reaches forward to pull Napoleon into his arms and his partner goes willingly, pressing his face into Illya’s shoulder.

“You did it for me,” Illya murmurs, holding him close. “Because I asked you to. And I shouldn’t have, I know, it’s not fair. I’m sorry, Cowboy.”

Napoleon is quiet for a long moment before he speaks again, pushing his words into Illya’s shirt. “I can’t do it again.”

Yes, you can, Illya thinks sadly, but he doesn’t say it. He knows that if it came down to it, Napoleon would pull the trigger, because he is far stronger than he thinks he is. Because he would always do anything for Illya, even the unthinkable.

“You won’t have to,” he promises instead. It’s a dangerous promise to make, but Illya also knows that he couldn’t ask Napoleon to do it again. Couldn’t take more of this pain. Illya is, in the end, the one that is not strong enough.

He presses a kiss to Napoleon’s temple and buries his face in his partner’s hair, drinking the the scent of his pomade and that thing that is uniquely him. They stand there for a long while, wrapped in each others arms, until Napoleon takes a deep breath that he exhales as a shaky sigh.

“We should go plan,” he says, his voice still muffled by Illya’s shirt.

Illya pulls back slightly and lifts a hand to cup Napoleon’s face, tipping it up toward his. “In a minute,” he murmurs, and then kisses him.

Illya never could have imagined that kissing the man he loves could make his heart ache so intensely. He can taste the sorrow in it, even more than the salt of Napoleon’s tears. Their tracks are drying on his cheeks, and Illya rubs his thumb through them, knowing for certain that this loop cannot end the way the previous one did, because he can never be the cause of these tears ever again.

Gaby is waiting for them when they finally come back inside, and she has put her time to good use. The table is near covered by explosive charges, assembled and ready to go. Illya and Napoleon blink at her in surprise.

“The way I see it,” she says without preamble, “we need the antidote, and then we need to blow the whole place, preferably with that bastard inside it. Make sure any trace of the drug is destroyed. These are for the outer walls,” she says, gesturing to one pile, “and these are for placing in the basement. I’ll kill the power, and then you have 15 minutes to get underground, get the antidote, place the charges, and get out. I’ll place the ones around the outside when I get there. Agreed?”

Illya and Napoleon look at each other, then back at Gaby, and nod. How could they not?

Next Chapter

#whumptober2020 #no.27 #power outage #the man from u.n.c.l.e.#fic #the man from uncle #tmfu #napollya #napoleon x illya #napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #gaby teller #my fic

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