#reader is tall

Before Ilia even went onto the ice you had a bad feeling about how the day was going to go, almost all of the guys before Ilia had fallen and you could see it was getting to him. You knew he'd keep it to himself how he was feeling, no matter how much you had reassured him that no matter what might happen you'd still be on his side he kept it to himself until he became overwhelmed.

Standing next to Roman and Rafael as he went onto the ice and did a few warm ups before going to start position you saw the first chink in his armor as the lights and cameras zeroed in on him.

Watching him as his first mistake happened, you watched as his armor started to fall to pieces as he fought to continue his program. After his first fall you could see the distress on his face as everything came crashing down around him.

You knew the pressure was too much that having to complete in the team event before he could do his solo event was a bad, but it wasn't your decision, you could only watch and support him in all his endeavors.

As you glance at Roman you can see as the anxiety for his son creeps into his eyes as his face remains stoic, but the tension is growing between you, him, and, Rafael.

When Ilia fell for the second time you couldn't control as the silent tears fell from your eyes, but you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Ilia looked devastated as he finished his program. His brow was scrunched and you could see he was barely holding in tears as he took his bows before throwing his head into his hands.

As he started skating towards where you and Roman were, you watched as his face crumbled seeing your expression. When he did reach you he was trying so hard to school his expression because of the cameras.

As Roman handed him his guards and offered his arm to support him as he put them on, Roman asked if he was alright and Ilia shook his head.

You handed him his water and a towel, he looked at you and the grief you saw in his eyes, almost made you start to cry again. You moved to stand next to him slightly blocking him from the camera to give him a moment to recuperate.

Before he gave Rafael a hug before heading to the kiss and cry for his score. While they waited for his score you could hear him talking about how it wasn't fair how much pressure was on him and how it wasn't as easy as everyone thought.

Hearing his score and seeing his reaction as well as Romans was devastating. Roman throwing his head into his hands at hearing Ilia's score, made you a little peeved but you understood that his emotions were running just as high as Ilia's.

Ilia went to congratulate Mikhail, giving him a hug and speaking with him softly before he got down from the platform to come up to you.

You give him a hug and kiss the top of his head before giving him your hand and heading to his post interview with NBC. You wished he didn't have so many cameras following him.

After his interview which seemed very insensitive considering what Ilia just went through, you both headed to a secluded area where he could take his skates off in peace. Before heading to the locker room where he could change and put up all his gear.

Afterwards he came up to you, and gave you a long hug. His arms wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your chest and was tucked under your chin. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders holding him tight.

He started to shake lightly, shudders wracking his body as you hold him close. Placing a kiss to the top of his head, before nuzzling your cheek against his hair.

"I love you." You mumble into his hair.

"I love you so much, you don't know how proud I am of you for making it this far." He shudders against your frame as a silent sob tears through him, as he buries his head father into you.

"I blew it." He tries to say.

"No you didn't." You put your hands on either side of his face. "You listen to me right now." Wiping the tears off his cheeks.

"They put so much pressure on you as soon as you were announced as a member of Team USA for these Olympics. You have done so much, you have proved yourself in so many ways. These are your first Olympics, and you have done so much."

"You are still an Olympic champion, you won Gold in the team event, and you've proved that you belong here. Everyone had a difficult time today. This is not the end of your career."

"No one is more upset with you than yourself, I love you that hasn't changed, your dad still loves you." You kiss the tears of his cheeks before kissing his eyelids.

"But I failed-" you shut him up with a chaste kiss on his lips.

"You are human, you are allowed to make mistakes. You made a mistake, and from here we will grow and come back stronger. I love you so much." You kiss him softly then pulling him up.

"Thank you, I love you so much, you being here means the world." He says leaning his forehead to yours looking into your eyes. He kisses you again slow and sweet as if it's grounding him.

"Alright I'm texting Roman and letting him know we're going back to the village." You pull your phone from your pocket and shoot off a text, before turning back to Ilia and giving a peck before giving him another hug.

You both stay like that for a long time before Ilia is ready to help back to the village. As you move to grab a hold of his hand and release him from the hug he doesn't quite let go. So you turn around in his home and hoist him up onto your back, and bending down to grab his bag as he tucks his face into your neck.

You carry him throughout the rink facilities until you get to the buses headed back to the village, you try to avoid as many people as you can, especially the media, but I've must've passed your radar because later the evening or more likely early the next morning there was a new story, with you and Ilia right there front and center.

The title read 'Ilia Malinin's Girlfriend comforting him after devastating 8th place finish for Team USA's Gold medal prospect' and under it was a series of photos of you and Ilia together, one from just after he finished his, to after him congratulating Mikhail, another outside the locker room of you kissing him and one of you carrying him back to the buses. The top comment on the story was some one comparing you to an Amazon.

For the next several days lots of posts and threads followed you and Ilia, he received lots of support throughout the community and from the team, his coaches and yourself. You also received lots of attention as people online decided you were the next wonder woman.

Ilia had sent you a post someone had made where they made a compalation of videos and photos where Ilia could often be seen hanging off of you like a monkey or just clinging to you like a toddler, with a caption that read 'If my girlfriend was 6'2 goddess I'd be clinging to her 24/7 too🤣'

Thus becoming a well recognized name amongst the special forces more specifically.

You'd like to thank the impeccable flying skills for landing you on such a radar.

Still, most of your work went unnoticed the first couple of years in SAS til' they eventually caught someone's eye later on:

"That's some amazing skills there—hello, we haven't met. My name is Kate."

The communication analyst would keep in touch with you after that. She claimed a specific task force officer asked for your wings.

"You know how to maneuver a helicopter better than anyone I've seen in a while. And I'm not the only one who's seen you in action."

Years pass after that, you're still on par with transporting soldiers and the Task Force 141, means you must be doing something right…right?

Shaking off the commotion of thoughts, you drove till the view of a familiar, bordered gateway appeared.

Upon entry, it was time to head over to your station.

-

Some inspections and loadings later, a shout was heard from afar. Turning towards the culprit, it was none other than Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish.

"Long time no see, aye bonnie?"

Leaning against the rails of the helicopter, he gave a smile. In return you gave one back as you finished clearing the aircraft as: PASS.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," you chuckled, "I believe I saw you yesterday."

Ignoring the matter-of-fact, he continued on, "Call me Soap. Remember, yer one of us."

Smiling awkwardly, you pretend to re-inspect one of the throttles once again.

To be 'considered' a part of task 141 was…a weird feat or way to put it overall. You were in their squadron as their pilot, but you weren't necessarily with them. You weren't a part of their briefings or any of that.

You were separate from them.

The only one who really 'considered' you as part was Sergeant MacTavish.

Not to say the others were assholes or something. Lieutenant Ghost often would brief a 'good job' or 'nice maneuvering' to you once in a while.

Sergeant Garrick and Captain Price also acknowledged you from time to time, always greeting when deemed necessary.

To put it into simple words…they like your flying skills. You're like a designated pilot for them sort of.

'Way to make it sound like you're just a chauffeur-'

Shaking the thoughts aside once more, you focused on what Johnny said.

"Come again, Sergeant?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head but repeated himself once more. He always found you cute yet attractive. A true bonnie. These small actions never ceased to add to his attraction towards you.

Plus, he liked them tall. He could only imagine you in heels now…

"Wait…so you guys are gonna team up with a whole 'nother group for the mission?" You asked.

Great. Now he had to shake his thoughts aside. Clearing his throat, Johnny nodded.

"Price got told he needed backup for this one. Apparently it's too risky to go alone."

"Sounds rough."

"Aye, Ghost ain't too fond of the idea either."

Didn't look like he was too happy about the situation as well.

Nodding, you understood the lieutenant's 'worry' about being aided by a private contractor unit. Another responsibility and potential liability overall.

Trying to look on the bright side of things, at least they'll be more careful.

"Well…better safe than sorry, right? Plus you guys won't be so bored on the ride there!" You internally cringed at your feeble attempt to cheer the man up.

Hey, at least it made him laugh though.

"Ye ready to deal wit' another crew of dafties 'en, bonnie?"

Laughing, you closed the door to the aircraft.

"I'll see you in a bit, las."

-

The briefing ends; said Austrian begins heading towards the designated lockers.

Kortac had been called back by the SAS, unsurprisingly. They’d worked alongside the particular military service before (more than a few times).

The report claimed a certain special ops unit would need some assistance on an important mission. The team was ordered to help aid as a “battering ram” of sorts, both pre and post mission.

Of course they knew just who to send alongside for additional aid to the team.

König rolled his eyes, slamming the locker in frustration. He really didn’t want to be here at all. In his eyes, he was assisting a potential enemy. The SAS wasn’t necessarily a foe to KorTac, but it’s not like they were allies either.

So case in point (to König), he was being forced to help the potential enemy.

There were other soldiers sent alongside König. One of them looked over at him, an eyebrow raised, “Alles gut?”

König looked over at the soldier and said nothing, hood completely concealing his annoyed face. He’d rather be anywhere else than here if he’s being honest.

Heading towards the helipad, where he’d meet the rest of his ‘team’ mates, König tripled checked his tactical gear on him before stepping onto the designated helicopter.

His eyes narrowed onto a familiar face—or rather a mask—he had met before. Ghost simply responded back to König’s hostile stare vice versa. Neither said anything, but sat on opposite sides of one another.

No mind was paid to the rest that got onto the helicopter, except for Sergeant MacTavish, who made his entrance known with a hearty laugh followed by an annoyed looking Sergeant Garrick.

After the rest got settled in, Captain Price stood center and went over some key details again, mainly about KorTac’s assistance on the mission. König felt someone’s eyes on him as a chill ran along his neck. He turned his head and saw the same soldier from earlier at the lockers move to sit next to him. Said soldier looked away nervously to avoid the blue eyes.

Komisch. König narrowed his eyes in confusion, but remained silent overall. He felt the soldier lean in, “Is this your first time working with them?” They then gestured their head towards Task force 141. König didn’t acknowledge them and remained quiet. Looking away, he ignored the huff of the—now annoyed— soldier.

“Ist mir doch...”

König ignored the subliminal guilt he felt by acting like he didn’t hear the soldier’s mutterings. Trying to distract himself, he re-checked his tactical gear.

Knife is attached to his side. His tourniquet was in place, perfectly positioned if needed. He had 2 extra stocks on his left thigh—

Thoughts were interrupted as 2 pairs of feet stepped onto the helicopter and the doors were closed. König looked up and he swore he heard himself swallow back a gulp. Thank whatever is up there that he had his hood concealing his face. König could feel his face becoming warm.

Completely ignoring the other pilot officer greeting the team, his eyes focused on you.

Who were you?

You seemed to be standing at almost—if not the same—height as König,

He absolutely loved that.

Eyes fell onto your hands, noticing the lack of a band surrounding it, which he also seemed to love.

He was unsure if he had a visceral reaction to your presence but it felt like when people saw color for the first time. He felt the need to hide his flustered face (even though the hood already does that for him).

Du siehst bezaubernd aus.

He thought, eyes not leaving your form.

As you and the other pilot head towards the cockpit, he couldn't help but ponder.

Was that what many consider ‘love at first sight'? Him? In love?

The idea seemed almost laughable, mainly because he didn't think he could ever imagine him even having the courage to even attempt to pursue someone. Let alone have someone finding him worth being with.

König (sadly) broke his stare by looking at the soldier who jabbed his shoulder. Bothered, he turned towards them with narrowed eyes.

Grinning, the soldier commented, "As they say in America; statuesque."

-

Stepping towards the helicopter, you could feel your mind calm down. You knew exactly what to do. Tis the moment. You're in the zone.

Ew. That’s literally so cheesy.

You thought as you covered your hand to hide the growing smile.

Your co-pilot turned over at you, “Everything ok?” he asked, confused.

Putting a hand down, you nodded, “Yep. Just…thinking of something.”

He gave you an odd look but didn't perpetuate any further, simply muttering under his breath, “...How’d I get stuck with the tall weirdo?”

You pretend not to hear that, letting out a sigh and stepping onto the helicopter.

The co-pilot flashed everyone a tight-lipped smile as eyes fell onto him first, “Proud to be working with everyone here.” But eyes quickly fell onto the person looming over him.

That person being you.

With a flashed smile and wave, you greeted them, “I’m going to be your eyes in the skies today.”

The assisting team nodded a ‘Yes Officer’ your way. Nodding to the group, you observed them until one of them caught your eye.

The moment your eyes landed on the gentleman in the hood suddenly time had stopped, not noticing when he looked back either. His eyes widened whilst looking like he had choked on the air or something.

He looked a little bit taller than you—only a little—which almost never happens.

He was also oddly cute (considering he had a full on sack over his head).

Suddenly self conscious about appearance, you straighten up and try to hide the blush apparent on your face. If it's obvious, nobody dares say anything.

It probably didn't help that he was staring back at you as well. Interlocked, neither breaking eye-contact till the soldier next to him nudged his shoulder.

Luckily, you were able to gather yourself and head into the cockpit. It seemed like the others had disappeared, leaving only you and him. But you surged on, unaware of eyes following your direction.

Finally out of sight, you were able to find your footing and headed towards the left.

Your co-pilot sat to your right.

Alright, it’s go time.

Snorting, you muttered, “...still so cheesy.”

“Huh?” the co-pilot turned.

“Nothing!”

-

It was finally over. The mission was done. You could feel the relief washing over as you were able to land on the helipad again.

No casualties (thankfully), except for 2 soldiers who were grazed by bullets. One of them being Ghost, who had apparently saved one of the other soldiers who were shot.

You still remembered upon landing to reach them on the field, Ghost was angrily dragging the other wounded soldier by the vest, holding his shoulder in the process.

One soldier yanked out a med kit as another snatched them away from the lieutenant.

The shouting could be heard from the cockpit as you flew away. You and your co-pilot ignored it and continued to flee the warzone.

As you were able to land, you slowly started feeling at ease.

Even though you’ve been flying for years, the adrenaline and anxiety was still the same every time.

The difficulty was always trying to shake the feeling of nerves off. A good cigarette always seems to ease them away. Speaking of which…

You reached into your lower back pocket; you cursed when you didn’t feel any familiar shaped boxed. Must’ve left the pack in your locker. Luckily, it wasn’t too far.

Headed towards said lockers, someone had walked next to you. Upon looking, no words were exchanged as you were side-to-side with the extremely tall soldier.

You expected him to say something. He didn’t. Simply continue to walk.

You decided to do so instead.

“Hello.”

The hooded man faced you this time with flat eyes. You stopped walking, so did he. Gulping down the nervousness, you took a good look at him.

He was taller than you, even if it was by a couple inches only. He was still taller than you.

“Sorry for bothering but…” chewing on your lip (which he definitely looked at), you confessed, “...I've never seen someone as tall—hell—taller than me. So I just wanted to introduce myself.”

You tell him your name, trying not to seem so upfront about it. He continues to look on for a while, in which you think maybe he didn’t want to talk to you at all.

“König.” is all he (manages to) says and continues to walk (although appearing dull looking towards you, he was internally sweating bullets as well).

“...Well König…I was wondering…if you would like to…maybe hangout, tonight. I'm actually going out to head for some drinks tonight and I thought…” you chuckled nervously while trying not to mumble, he however, cut you off.

“What?” König asked in what seemed an annoyed tone.

Not to him though, he just seemed weary about strangers, plus he didn't really know how to act around someone he seemed to have a crush on. He didn't even think he sounded rude about it.

Which was the problem.

You quickly explained to him, “Well…we don't have to. I swear I just wanted to offer maybe I thought you'd be interested-”

He cut you off again, “Why would I want to spend my time with you?” 

Oh god König. If only he knew just how bad he was fucking this up.

Swallowing, you looked away from said man, “Um…nevermind I didn't mean to disturb you, please, forget I ever bothered you haha…” you slowly drifted off, trying to hide the wobble in your lip.

Forcing a smile you began to walk away from him.

König’s eyes widened as you began to walk away.

No. No. No. Nein. Nein-

Was tust du?! He thought as he saw your lips wobble.

Do something before they leave!

“Wait!” He blurted out. This time he didn't seem to care that the surrounding soldiers looked at him.

But when you turned around however, he felt his stomach flutter.

Oh shit now what-

He didn’t know what to say now. So he simply just walked up, grabbed both of your shoulders and explained how he’d love to go out for drinks.

Motivated, you just looked up at him, the genuine smile creeping back onto your face, “Really?”

König felt himself freeze, but nodded regardless:

“Ja.”

“Okay, great…Amazing!” Giving him the details, you headed towards the lockers, the–now–lovestruck smile on your face. König waved until he realized what he just did.

He agreed to go out for drinks. With you.

With you. 

What was his issue then? Nothing was wrong with you.

But you wanna go out with him. Him.…now that's a different story.

He was freaking out–not that anyone could tell–König stood still in one spot, till the hand on his shoulder broke him out of it. It was the previous soldier from before:

“Gut?” they tried asking König again, who narrowed his eyes back at them. 

“Ja.”