An Unguarded Moment
Title: An Unguarded Moment
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Illya/OFC
Rating: R
Summary: In a moment of weakness, Illya thinks of what might have been.
Distribution: Please ask me first, otherwise go for it!
Disclaimer: I totally do not own The Man From U.N.C.L.E. - if I did, I wouldn't leave my house.
Dedication: To my dear friend glennagirl - I wouldn't write het for just anyone. I hope you have a wonderful birthday and enjoy my humble gift.
--
He saw her on the subway. She had long russet hair, clear hazel eyes and a small sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She was unconventionally beautiful. No one in the car noticed her, but Illya did.
He supposed that Napoleon would have called her a ‘hippie’. She was wearing sandals, a long yellow skirt and a white flowing tunic. A wreath of flowers circled her forehead. She exuded goodness and gentleness, everything that he and Napoleon were working for, and she just sat there in a hot, crowded subway car, not knowing that Illya was watching her.
He went home that night, headed straight for his shower. The hot water caressed him. He took his bar of Lifebuoy and washed up and down his body. Closing his eyes, Illya let the water stream over his head and back, and he thought of that beautiful girl on the subway. He imagined burying his hands into that brilliant red hair, sucking her lower lip into his own mouth and tasting her.
He thought of her hair cascading over him, a waterfall of silk brushing his skin, setting his nerve ending on fire. He looked into her eyes, bright with ecstasy. She opened herself to him, her creamy skin almost glowing. He kissed down her body, nibbling, biting, sucking. He marked her with every kiss, her skin blossoming, blooming, the flush of lust washed over her.
She smelled like the flowers that circled her head. She rose over him, sliding down onto him. They fit together like two pieces of a secret puzzle. She moved ever so slightly. His large hands traveled up her body and took hold of her small, firm breasts. The girl looked down and moaned. “Illya…” she whispered.
She hovered over him like a wingless angel. He lifted his hips eagerly, attempting to fill every inch of her. He wanted to feel her surrounding him, he wanted to let go of everything and give it to her, for this moment alone. She moaned again, panting lightly. “Illya…” she said again, her voice raspy and desperate.
The water turned cold in the shower and unnerved him. He turned the tap off and dried himself with the coarse, overly bleached towel that hung by the door.
He shook himself free from the fantasy. He knew better than to have such a moment. Still, Illya could not help but wonder…
FIN
Author: Shelly - cosmosmariner
Pairing: Illya/OFC
Rating: R
Summary: In a moment of weakness, Illya thinks of what might have been.
Distribution: Please ask me first, otherwise go for it!
Disclaimer: I totally do not own The Man From U.N.C.L.E. - if I did, I wouldn't leave my house.
Dedication: To my dear friend glennagirl - I wouldn't write het for just anyone. I hope you have a wonderful birthday and enjoy my humble gift.
--
He saw her on the subway. She had long russet hair, clear hazel eyes and a small sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She was unconventionally beautiful. No one in the car noticed her, but Illya did.
He supposed that Napoleon would have called her a ‘hippie’. She was wearing sandals, a long yellow skirt and a white flowing tunic. A wreath of flowers circled her forehead. She exuded goodness and gentleness, everything that he and Napoleon were working for, and she just sat there in a hot, crowded subway car, not knowing that Illya was watching her.
He went home that night, headed straight for his shower. The hot water caressed him. He took his bar of Lifebuoy and washed up and down his body. Closing his eyes, Illya let the water stream over his head and back, and he thought of that beautiful girl on the subway. He imagined burying his hands into that brilliant red hair, sucking her lower lip into his own mouth and tasting her.
He thought of her hair cascading over him, a waterfall of silk brushing his skin, setting his nerve ending on fire. He looked into her eyes, bright with ecstasy. She opened herself to him, her creamy skin almost glowing. He kissed down her body, nibbling, biting, sucking. He marked her with every kiss, her skin blossoming, blooming, the flush of lust washed over her.
She smelled like the flowers that circled her head. She rose over him, sliding down onto him. They fit together like two pieces of a secret puzzle. She moved ever so slightly. His large hands traveled up her body and took hold of her small, firm breasts. The girl looked down and moaned. “Illya…” she whispered.
She hovered over him like a wingless angel. He lifted his hips eagerly, attempting to fill every inch of her. He wanted to feel her surrounding him, he wanted to let go of everything and give it to her, for this moment alone. She moaned again, panting lightly. “Illya…” she said again, her voice raspy and desperate.
The water turned cold in the shower and unnerved him. He turned the tap off and dried himself with the coarse, overly bleached towel that hung by the door.
He shook himself free from the fantasy. He knew better than to have such a moment. Still, Illya could not help but wonder…
FIN