#pasya

Going with headcanons since you didn't specify.

Izaya Orihara:

- While he’s disappointed in himself for not being fast enough to catch you he’s more ashamed that his failure leads to you shivering, your head resting in his lap as the cold December air wracks your form with chills.

- He’s getting increasingly worried as your shivering stops, knowing that the warmth of his body is doing little to nothing for you and instead that something far worse is occurring.

- In the background, he can vaguely hear the sound of the approaching ambulance but his focus is fixated on you. Your eyes confused and your head lolling to the side a bit.

- Outwardly, he’s calm apart from the iron grip on your hand and the determined tremble in his voice as he tries to keep you awake.

- When the ambulance comes he forces himself into the back with you, the gesture of his hand reaching into his pocket when the paramedics try to shoo him away is enough for them to stop.

- After your safe, resting in the hospital room and chatting quietly with him, he decides that the next time you want to go skating, it will be somewhere more local. Your “enchanted forest night skating aesthetic” is less of a priority than your safety.

Masaomi Kida:

- It was all going to be perfect; the location, the cheesy love songs, the atmosphere. Hell, Masaomi even paid for ice-skating classes so he could impress you tonight.

- The only imperfect, unplanned part of tonight was when your skate hit a crack in the ice and before he could react, Masaomi was watching you get sucked down into the freezing water below.

- He was at the edge of the ice in seconds, reaching down to pull you up and consequently slipping in behind you. By some miracle, with a bit of struggle, you were both able to make it out of the ice.

- You sat there together, shivering and waiting for the ambulance Masaomi had called (he’d sat his phone on a rock beside the lake so the two of you could listen to music).

- You kept mentioning how dizzy you were. sometimes asking where you were and what happened. Eventually, even Masaomi was starting to become confused, his fingers feeling warm before he passed out.

- When he woke in the hospital, he stumbled out of his bed and over to your unconscious form beside him. After an hour and a barely successful attempt by the doctors to get Masaomi back into bed, you woke.

- The drowsiness of the sedatives he was given didn’t stop him from blurting out apologies until he eventually fell back to sleep, you smiling tiredly all the while.

La Rochefoucauld 

- Shizuo is a little surprised when he sees their eyes for the first time and is even a bit apprehensive considering the whole Saika thing. After adjusting a bit and being more familiar with them though, he goes from cautious to a curious.

- The fact that they’re French also interests him. From the way they speak to their customs, he always has questions about their culture. They can bet their life that he gets excited when they mention new recipes from back home that they miss, typically leading to a very messy attempt at cooking together.

- If anyone makes an off look at them for their eyes, Shizuo and his horrible reputation are by their side as soon as possible, ready to end the scrutiny at all costs. 

- The defensiveness applies to their culture as well. Be it someone making fun of their accent or getting upset with them if there’s a language barrier, Shizuo is right there with a stop sign and a few not-so-kind words in an instant.

I really had a lot of fun with this request, I hope you like it!

A soft buzz rattled the sleek, round cafe table; its cause being the small black phone resting at its edge. The owner of the device peered across the room, having taken a seat in the corner to glance across the warm atmosphere of the restaurant and avoid the daggers of prying eyes. After checking that no-one was passing by he unlocked the screen, fingers curiously dancing across the glass to open the new message he’d received. A small smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, eyes tracing the outline of your figure in the less-than-decent photo of you half-naked in the pharmaceutical company’s bathroom, the zipper of your pants half undone.

[2:57 pm] ____: {img. file}

[2:58 pm] Izaya: Well now, that doesn’t look like proper work attire to me, ____-chan.

[2:59 pm] ____: Depends on the job, don’t ya think?

[2:59 pm] Izaya: And what job requires such a unique uniform, hm? Enlighten me.

You read the message as soon as it popped up on your screen from where it lay on the bathroom sink, your hands focusing on fixing the buttons of your button-up and tucking it back into the waist of your pants. This had been going on for a good portion of the day, starting earlier this morning when you took a photo of yourself naked in Izaya’s full-length mirror holding two hangers in one hand, phone in the other, asking him which shirt you should wear today. He promptly replied not a minute after with, “Does it really matter? You won’t be wearing it later tonight anyways.” So far, the dirty back and forth has yet to stop.

[3:02 pm] ____: Hopefully any job where you’re the boss.

[3:03 pm] Izaya: Is that so? Then the boss says to leave the top three buttons undone for the rest of the day. If anyone stares, report them.

Izaya grinned behind the fist he balanced his chin on, remembering fondly how revealing that shirt was when you wanted it to be. He’d picked it out just for you a while back, liking the way it fell off your shoulders seamlessly. If he were to be honest with himself, Izaya had thought about the whole “sexting” thing a good number of times, thinking he wouldn’t be all that into it (he prided himself on enjoying some only the finer things in life). It wasn’t until your message this morning that he realized he, as he so rarely had ever been, was wrong. He was very into this.

[3:05 pm] ____: And if I don’t?

[3:05 pm] Izaya: I’ll simply have to punish you for insubordination.

[3:06 pm] Izaya: Besides

[3:07 pm] Izaya: You look better bent over the balcony railing, letting the city watch me fuck you than being stuck in a bland white lab coat all day.

You almost dropped the phone in your hands as you walked through the busy building’s stark white halls towards the front entrance, a pink flush dusting your cheeks. Neither of you had been very blunt thus far (barring the photos of your scantily clad form and the so-hot-it-was-blasphemous photo Izaya sent from a bathroom stall of his own at the cafe).

[3:08 pm] ____: All bark and no bite, calling it.

[3:08 pm] Izaya: Oh?

[3:09 pm] Izaya: The hickey on your neck says otherwise.

[3:09 pm] ____: And the hickies between your thighs say I won’t go down without a fight

[3:10 pm] Izaya: Are you sure? Last night you were more than eager.

Izaya couldn’t help the obnoxious laughter that spilled out from him, both at your blatant defiance and the sheer fire you held over the phone. Unfortunately for you, Izaya knew you like his favorite book and was sure you were undeniably red in the face by this point. He was almost so inclined as to have Namie confirm it for him.

[3:11 pm] ____: Blow me

[3:12 pm] Izaya: You actually think you can last that long?

[3:17 pm] ____: {img. file}

[3:18 pm] ____: Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?

Izaya choked on his tea, staring at the image. Two russet brown eyes resting over an embarrassingly flushed face looked out the window to their right, making eye contact with you and your smug smirk.

The photo was a zoomed in shot of the obvious tent in Izaya’s pants, hidden from the view of the other customers by the table he was seated at, but not from the public outside the poorly placed window.

I’m not sure which of us you’re talking about but we all thank you and appreciate the kind words none-the-less!