summary: your closest in-game friend wants to meet in person and claims to be the chairman of the company that designed the full-dive gear. now he just has to prove it
wc: 4k
content: just a normal tech company, virtual reality, online friends to lovers, fluff
A soft, twinkling chime rang in your ears as the glowing blue mushroom dissolved in your palm, a floating green notification popping up in your field of vision: [Lunar Fungus x3 added to inventory].
The full-dive tech was so flawlessly advanced that you could feel the lingering cool dampness of the soil on your fingertips. It was a complete escape from reality.
You reached up, lightly rubbing the tip of your elongated ears. While you had kept your avatar’s body as similar to your real-world self as you could to avoid the jarring switch between bodies, you had allowed yourself this one fantasy trait. Under your fingertips, the cartilage felt completely real, twitching slightly in response to the ambient rustle of the digital forest.
A sudden glass-like shatter interrupted the calm, immediately followed by the metallic clinking of dropped loot hitting the forest floor. You looked over at the commotion in time to see a hulking figure step out from the brush. It was HowlKo. His massive, muscular frame carried a greatsword like it was nothing more than a feather. He would have been an impressive sight if it weren’t for the way his heavy burgundy tail thrashed behind him the millisecond his golden eyes locked onto your form still kneeling next to the patch of mushrooms you had spent the last hour foraging for.
“Hey, Ko,” you said casually, turning your attention back to your task, continuing to pluck the fungus from the root.
The frantic wagging of his burgundy tail stopped dead, and his golden eyes blinked at you in disbelief, his jaw dropping open. He lowered his greatsword, resting the heavy tip against the dirt.
“‘Hey, Ko?’” he repeated, his voice carrying an offended whine. “Really? That’s it? No ‘Thank you, Ko, for saving me from those goblins’?”
“I do not sound like that,” you protested.
He continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “I defeated the whole mob for you, and all I get is ‘hey?’ Unbelievable.” His fluffy ears pinned back against his hair, pouting. You rolled your eyes, a laugh bubbling in your throat at his antics.
You put on a grandiose voice. “You’re my hero, Ko! How can I ever repay you?”
He pretended to think about it, but he already had a request in mind. “Gimme half of those mushrooms.”
“No way!” you objected, the playful tone dropping instantly into a horrified hiss, clutching your inventory pouch close to your chest. “Do you have any idea how long it took to find these? Find your own!”
“They would have been forfeit if that mob had gotten you, so I could be asking for all of them,” he rebutted.
“That’s assuming I couldn’t handle them myself. Which I totally could have.”
“I have way more attack points than you—“
“And I have more hit points, so what’s your point?”
“Just gimme the mushrooms,” he pleaded. “I’ll trade you half the goblin loot.”
“No deal,” you hummed, popping the last of the mushrooms into your inventory with a victorious chime. “I don't need rusty goblin armor, and I have plenty of gold. I need these for my alchemy level.”
Ko let out a dramatic, exaggerated groan, throwing his head back so hard his fluffy ears flopped pitifully against his hair. He stomped over, his heavy boots rustling the grass, and plopped his massive frame onto the dirt next to you. He didn't even bother to sheath his sword properly, letting it clatter to the side. “You're so mean to me,” he whined, his tail giving a singular sad pat against the earth. He leaned sideways, heavily dropping his shoulder against yours. “I log onto this server every day just to be your personal bodyguard, and you won't even share a few measly mushrooms.”
You laughed, the tip of your sensitive ears twitching at the sudden warmth of his avatar leaning against you. “If you're so starved for attention, why don't you go bother the players in the town square?”
Ko huffed, his golden eyes narrowing as he turned his head to look at you, his tone shifting from whiny to something softer. Tentative, even. “Because they aren't you. Besides, you come over to my cabin all the time to cook and log off. If we’re going to spend hours bickering over digital mushrooms…” he paused, his tail giving a nervous twitch. “...why don't we just do it over actual dinner? In the real world?”
Your smile dropped as the weight of his question settled between you. You looked at him, at the golden eyes staring at you expectantly, the ones you had come to be so familiar with, and felt a pang of guilt in your chest.
“Ko…” you started softly, shifting your weight on the grass. “You know I love spending time with you here, but I don't think I’m comfortable with meeting in person.”
His burgundy ears perked up in a flash of confusion, his head tilting. “Why not?” he asked. “You already know me.”
“I know HowlKo,” you corrected. “But the real world is different. You could be literally anyone behind that avatar, and reality doesn't have the built-in player protections that Whispering Woods does.”
A heavy, stunned silence fell over the clearing. Ko sat frozen. He looked heartbroken, his fluffy tail dropping flat against the dirt with a pathetic thump. He let out a long sigh from behind the mask. “Okay, fair point,” he conceded, his tone shifting to something hopeful once again. He reached up, his large, clawed gloves unlacing the leather straps at the back of his head. “But what if you already know exactly who I am?”
With a soft click of the game’s apparel physics, the wolf snout mask dissolved into light. You blinked, tracking the movement as the pixelated shower of light dissipated. With the mask no longer blocking his features, you could finally see the strikingly sharp jawline, the perfectly sculpted lips, and the flawless symmetry of Chairman Valko—the very man who headed the tech company that had designed the full-dive gear you were currently using.
For a few seconds, all you could do was stare at the newly revealed lower half of his face. Then, a snort escaped you, followed by bright, airy laughter that echoed through the clearing. You leaned back on your hands, shaking your head in amusement.
“Oh my god, Ko, no way,” you giggled, completely missing the pouty expression on his gorgeous features. “A Valko mod? Are you serious? You really customized yourself to look like the EonCore CEO? How much real-world cash did you drop just to roleplay him?”
Ko’s jaw slackened— a handsome jaw, you had to admit, even if it belonged to a counterfeit billionaire. His virtual wolf ears drooped so much they practically disappeared into his hair. “I didn't buy a skin—”
“Sure you didn't,” you laughed, reaching over to pat his ridiculously perfect cheek. “It's a great prank, really. 10 out of 10 for originality.”
“But—” he started again, but you weren't listening, your attention instead taken by the timer you had set popping into view.
“Gotta go, Ko. Have food in the oven. See you tomorrow!” you said cheerfully, logging out before he could respond and leaving him in the clearing to ponder the best way to prove his identity to you.
— — —
When you dived back into the server the next evening, HowlKo was already waiting for you, his wolf mask back in place. He was pacing back and forth, his heavy tail thrashing behind him in a blur of agitation. The moment your avatar materialized, he stormed over.
“I’m gonna prove it to you,” he declared, skipping any sort of greeting.
You raised an eyebrow. “Prove what? That you're a secret billionaire?”
Ko didn’t answer. Instead, he swiped his hand aggressively through the air, summoning a glowing gold developer console that regular players absolutely did not have access to.
He typed in a command, and, with a deafening crash, a veritable mountain of rare items dropped to the ground, more than you’d ever seen in all your time playing the game combined.
“See! Look! Just a few clicks and I can have anything! Other players can’t do that, but I can.”
You gazed in awe upon the assortment of gold, gems, potions, even mythical weapons and armor. “Wow, Ko. You’re a skilled hacker,” you commented, totally missing the way his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Seriously, though, be careful, or the actual chairman is going to ban your account, and I don't want to lose my favorite foraging partner.”
Ko felt like he was going to scream. What would it take to prove it to you? A small, pathetic whine escaped his throat. “Just…keep the loot,” Ko groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose right above the snout of his mask. He gestured to the fortune surrounding you. “Consider it a gift.”
You immediately took three massive steps backwards, putting as much distance between you and the contraband Ko had summoned. “No way. What if you get me caught for cheating, too?”
“Not how it works. And it’s already here anyway, so just take it.”
You staunchly refused, and Ko stared at you, his fluffy burgundy tail drooping. He looked so defeated that you caved, only a little, and plucked a health potion from the pile. It appeased him, if only a little, a small smile spreading under the mask. “If you really need to get rid of it all, I know this dragon player that would love to take it off your hands.”
Valko hummed, but didn't argue that the items were intended for you. He acquiesced and asked what the player ID was, pulling up that strange navigation console. He almost scoffed when the ID pulled up one of the most pretentious usernames he had yet seen, and he had seen many. “Abysm Sovereign?” he laughed, reading the name aloud. “Just who is this guy?”
His contagious laugh ignited your own. “You should see the rest of my friend list,” you giggled, already pulling up the list. Ko’s eyes scanned it, reading names such as PntMeLk1ofUrFrnchGrls, PommePommePilot, StarBoyLumiere, and, disappointingly, Dr. Z.
With the wealth transferred to a now very pleased dragon, you and Ko set off for his player residence, a gorgeous, secluded cabin tucked away in a seldom-visited corner of the map. The property, like all player residences, was restricted to those who hadn't been invited by the owner.
Once inside, you beelined to his alchemy table, eager to use those mushrooms. While you pulled items out of your inventory, Ko threw himself on the plush velvet sofa nearby. He finally removed his mask, tossing it onto the coffee table. His large frame took up the whole couch and then some, his feet propped on one armrest while he threw an arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow. His golden eyes tracked your avatar’s every movement, his gaze unbearably fond.
“You know,” he rumbled, “you're lucky I let you use my crafting tables for free. Most alchemists have to rent those.”
You didn't even look up from your stirring, the corner of your lip twitching into an almost-there grin. “I’m still not sharing the mushrooms.”
“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “You can't spare just one?”
You shook your head, not even trying to hide your smug amusement, airy giggles filling the room and embedding themselves in Valko’s fluttering heart.
By the time your brewing level flashed a celebratory [Level Up!] notification, it was getting late. You stretched your avatar’s arms, yawning. “Alright, Ko, I’m heading out for the night. It’s getting late.”
He sat up on the couch, his expression suddenly shifting into something serious, his intense gaze locked onto you. “Tomorrow at noon,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “There is a global EonCore Tech broadcast. Watch it.”
You blinked, throwing him a confused look, but agreed all the same.
“Promise?” he asked, his burgundy ears giving a sharp twitch.
You smiled softly at him, still wondering why he was so adamant that you watch. “Yeah, yeah, I promise,” you laughed, waving a hand at him. “See you tomorrow, Ko!”
You woke up with a groggy yawn, the phantom sensation of pointed ears still lingering as you rubbed your eyes. Glancing at the clock, your eyes widened. 11:58 AM. You scrambled for your tablet, quickly tapping onto the livestream you had promised Ko that you would watch.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a massive auditorium flooded with press. At the podium was the real Chairman Valko, so much more intimidating than your foraging partner. The one at the podium wore a suit that could probably cover your rent, his hair perfectly styled and golden eyes scanning the crowd. He also lacked the pointed ears and fluffy tail that you had become so fond of.
“As we move into the new fiscal year, EonCore remains dedicated to the safety and experience of its players,” Valko spoke, his smooth voice echoing through the speakers. It was the same voice that usually begged you to share potion ingredients, but here, it was devoid of any hint of playfulness.
You watched him, leaning back into your pillows. You almost scoffed. As if Ko could really be-”
“However,” Valko continued, pausing as he looked at the center camera lens. “With our recent update to the servers, we advise our players to exercise caution when playing the new events. You never know what kind of stray dog you might find. You may find the Lunar Fungus not worth the risk.”
Your jaw dropped, and the tablet nearly slipped from your grasp. The press in the auditorium didn't even blink, his vague warning likely sounding like a teaser for whatever new event was being added, but you knew better. A breathless, horrified gasp left your throat as your mind flashed back to the day you had first come across the wolf hybrid avatar.
Valko had wanted to test the gameplay personally, and thus HowlKo was born. The only problem? He was a disaster. You had been slowly but surely making your way through a dungeon when you heard a series of crashes. Turning around, you had found a towering, clumsy player with a wolf mask surrounded by level-two slimes he couldn't figure out how to target and bits of armor that had, up until a moment ago, been neatly displayed as a full suit.
You had sighed, easily slicing the slimes away and helping him up. From that point on, he hadn't left your side, clinging to you like a remora. He didn't know the map, he didn't know the crafting recipes, and he refused to leave your side, following along behind you everywhere you went.
“You're like a stray dog, aren't you?” You had joked back then, watching his tail give a hesitant, hopeful wag. You’d been inseparable since.
Back in the real world, you stared at the screen, mortified. Valko, Ko, adjusted his expensive cuffs, gave a polite nod to the press, and stepped away from the podium.
You couldn't get the VR set on fast enough, the sensory transition passing in a blur of blinding white pixels until your feet hit the wood floor of Ko’s cabin’s front porch. It was your day off, which meant you had a completely open schedule. Unfortunately, this also meant that you had nothing to distract yourself from dwelling on the fact that you had been calling a tech mogul a stray dog to his face for a year. Or that you'd accused him of hacking.
You didn't even bother going inside. Instead, you dropped onto the top step of the porch, wrapping your arms around your knees as you waited for him to log in. For twenty agonizing minutes, you sat there, staring at digital grass and felt the simulated breeze blowing through the clearing Ko’s cabin was situated in.
Suddenly, a chime interrupted the serenity, signaling the arrival of the owner of the cabin. In a blur of burgundy pixels, Valko’s avatar materialized just in front of the steps leading up the porch. Your head jerked up, watching him materialize in front of you.
He was wearing his wolf snout mask again, his massive greatsword securely strapped to his back. The second his boots hit the dirt, he registered your figure sitting on his stoop. A look of shock crossed his face.
“Did you watch the broadcast?” he asked, his deep baritone carrying a smug amusement.
You buried your face in your hands, groaning, more embarrassed than you cared to admit. God, you couldn't believe you had accused him of hacking.
“And what did you think?” Valko prodded.
“That I’m an idiot,” you lamented, your voice still muffled by your hands.
He chuckled, leaning down to pull your hands away from your face, the pout on your lips so endearing he felt his heart skip a beat. With your hands still in his, he pulled you up, leading the way into the cabin.
Your cheeks flamed. All you could focus on was the way his warm hand encapsulated yours so perfectly.
Inside, he removed the mask, letting it dissolve in a cloud of pixels, revealing the sharp curve of his lips in a smirk, his fangs flashing. “Y’know, I think you should make it up to me for calling me a hacker and a liar,” he teased, gearing up to once again pester you for those damn mushrooms.
You frowned, the floor suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. An uncomfortable guilt settled in your chest from your previous words. “‘M sorry, Valko,” you mumbled, barely looking up from the floorboards, like a child being scolded by a parent.
The grin fell from his face. He wasn't trying to actually make you feel bad, especially over something he wasn't even mad at. He certainly didn't want the first time he heard you say his name be because you were apologizing to him. “Ko,” he corrected bluntly. “I’m still your Ko. The version that you know is the authentic one. Nothing has really changed if you don't want it to.” He spoke earnestly, desperate to rectify the slight miscommunication and salvage your image of him.
You looked at him properly this time, searching his eyes for any hint of dishonesty. Finding none, you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”
He considered the question for a moment. “Because then you would have treated me like the EonCore Tech chairman.”
You were taken aback by his answer, but considered his earlier words. He was still your Ko. “For someone who wanted to avoid being recognized, you sure didn't change much about your avatar.”
The return of your sly grin lifted a weight from his chest. “That’s what the mask is for, duh. I’ve seen you almost every day for a year, and you never suspected it. Even when I showed you my face, you assumed it was a skin. So obviously hiding in plain sight was a great plan, thank you.”
You rolled your eyes, happy that your companion was here to stay.
“In all seriousness,” he began again, the brief levity broken as soon as it had been established. “I thought about what you said the other day. I’ve proved who I am, and I was serious about wanting to meet you in person. But if you're still not comfortable, would you be open to a virtual date? We can do whatever you want, right here on the server.”
His tail gave a small, hopeful wag, his eyes wide and sincere as he awaited your answer. Warmth bloomed in your chest and spread across your face to the tips of your ears. Slowly, you shook your head.
Valko’s shoulders dropped instantly, his ears drooping and his tail becoming listless. He couldn't hide the abject disappointment fast enough. “That’s alright,” he said, forcing a smile, wishing he had never opened his mouth.
“No, Ko,” you laughed gently. “I’m declining the virtual date.”
He snapped his head towards you, his ears perking back up. “You mean-”
You nodded. “In person,” you confirmed. “If the offer still stands.”
A beamed at you, his bright smile lighting up his whole face with unbridled joy. “The offer absolutely stands.”
— — —
The bell above the door jingled as you stepped inside the restaurant. You had half expected some over-the-top, expensive restaurant with a month-long waiting list. Instead, Valko had sent you the address of a dimly lit, likely family-owned hole in the wall. It was cozy, the decor outdated and the booths a little worse for wear.
“Do you recognize it?”
You turned around. Standing near a corner booth was Valko— the real-world Valko. He was dressed down in a sweater with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, looking impossibly handsome despite the casual clothing.
You blinked, looking around the exposed brick walls and checkered tablecloths. “Oh my god,” you breathed, a bright smile breaking across your face. “It’s the tavern in the city center.”
Valko nodded, thoroughly pleased that you not only recognized it, but that it made you happy. The dinner passed in a blissful blur. Any lingering nervousness you had entirely dissolved in the first ten minutes. He was the same doting and slightly needy partner you had spent the better part of the past year falling for. He poured your drinks, pushed the bread basket closer to your side, and listened to everything you said with rapt attention, his eyes soft and full of unwavering fondness that made your cheeks flush.
As the night finally wrapped up, he offered to take you home. You guess you shouldn’t have been surprised that he had a personal driver, but you were still flustered when Valko himself held the door open for you, sliding in beside you.
“So, Mr. Chairman,” you hummed. “You kept your identity a secret, hid a message in a global broadcast, and built a replica of one of your favorite restaurants in-game. Any other surprises up your sleeve?”
Valko hesitated, diverting his attention to the passing streetlights before looking back at you, so pretty in a way your avatar hadn’t been able to capture. “Maybe one or two,” he chuckled. He redirected the conversation back to you, not quite ready to reveal the rest and wanting more than anything to arrange another date to get to know the you behind the avatar who taught him the mechanics of his own game and so jealously guarded her inventory.
When the car pulled up the curb in front of your apartment building, Valko reluctantly slid out of the seat, holding the door for you and offering his hand.
“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “I had a great time.”
Valko nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Would you, uh,” he faltered, red spreading across his cheekbones. “Would you want to do this again?”
You giggled, over the moon that he seemed every bit as enamored with you as you were with him. “I’d love that.”
He let out a relieved huff, the nervous tension visibly leaving his shoulders. You bid your goodbyes, but you’d hardly taken two steps before you stopped wrestling with your own cowardice, shoving it down as you whirled back around to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. With a final, whispered goodbye, you hurried into the building, leaving Valko to stand there with his fingers lightly grazing the skin your lips had been on just moments prior.
His heart fluttered like a trapped hummingbird, soaring high as he climbed back into the car. His mind kept wandering back to what it felt like to have you close—for real this time, not like when you’d cozy up next to him on the couch of his cabin.
He ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks beginning to hurt from how much he had been smiling. As he watched the scenery pass by, he wondered when and how he should tell you that the fluffy ears and tail he wore as HowlKo weren’t just digital accessories.
summary: in which your tiny little chihuahua shows your big bad werewolf boyfriend who the top dog really is
wc: 1.3k
content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff
You gave the couch throw pillow one final fluff, tossing it onto the corner of the couch. Beside it, curled up in a fuzzy blanket, was your darling chihuahua. His tiny brown head perked up, large watery eyes tracking your movements, and his oversized ears twitching as you placed a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
“Be good tonight,” you warned, pointing a finger at the tiny creature. “Valko’s coming over and I want you on your best behavior.”
The dog only whined, looking between you and the popcorn on the table, waiting for you to cave and give him a piece.
Right on cue, three heavy knocks sounded at the door. Instantly, your apartment was filled with the yapping of the little dog, now scrambling to get off the couch and guard the door.
You followed him, a fond smile tugging your lips. You unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Valko stood in the hallway, looking effortlessly handsome in a dark jacket that emphasized his broad shoulders. He held a plastic bag filled with your favorite snacks, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Hey,” he greeted, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He took one step over the threshold.
“YAP! YAP! YAP!”
Valko froze mid-stride, his boot hovering an inch above the doormat. Planted firmly between you and the “intruder” was four pounds of fury. The chihuahua’s paws practically left the floor with every explosive bark.
You used your foot to nudge him backward, waving Valko in so you could shut the door. He walked in slowly, raising his bag of snacks like a shield. His golden eyes darted from the noisy thing at his feet to you, his lovely girlfriend, with a look of profound bewilderment. “Why does he hate me so much?”
You shrugged. “He’s just protective. Not all that much different than what you did to that guy who asked for my number last week,” you said, picking up the frantic dog and tucking it into your arms like an angry football, the barking quieting down to a low growl.
“That was different,” Valko protested, following you into the living room.
“Is it?” you teased. You plopped down onto the couch, patting the space next to you. Valko set the bag of snacks on the coffee table, warily eyeing the sentinel staring him down from the comfort of your lap.
He lowered himself onto the cushion next to you as slowly as he could to not invoke the anger of the furry beast. The couch dipped significantly under his weight. The chihuahua growled, but remained in your lap, his chocolate-colored body shaking as he watched your boyfriend’s every move.
Valko sighed with relief when he managed to sit without any yapping. “He’s so small,” Valko muttered, watching the dog warily. “But so, so angry.”
“He’s the man of the house when you're not here,” you teased again, leaning back into the plush couch cushions. Seeing an opportunity, Valko tried to casually slide his arm along the back of the couch to drape it across your shoulders.
“YAP! YAP!”
The little dog lunged, propping his front paws on your chest to snap at Valko’s arm. Valko flinched his arm back, tucking his hands safely against his chest. “Okay,” Valko exclaimed breathily, staring down at the tiny defender. “No touching. Got it.”
Halfway through the movie, the relentless barking finally caught up to your little protector. His heavy, watery eyes blinked slowly against the glow of the television screen. With a dramatic sigh, he circled three times on your lap, tucked his nose under his tail, and collapsed into a brown puddle of fur.
Carefully, so as not to disturb the fragile peace, you pulled the throw blanket over him. Within seconds, a faint snore rumbled from under the fabric.
Valko’s golden eyes cut sideways, tracking the rise and fall of the blanket. He waited. One minute, then two. Slowly, with the careful precision of a predator stalking its prey, Valko began to lift his arm from his knee. He didn't make a sound. His broad shoulders shifted by a fraction of an inch as he hovered his arm over the back of the sofa, gradually sliding it down until it rested behind your shoulders.
He didn't pull you close just yet, holding his breath, his eyes glued to the lump on your lap. He stayed there, stiff as a board, until he was sure the chihuahua was still sound asleep. You had to press a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, your shoulders shaking against his side.
“Stop laughing,” Valko whispered, concerned with the way the lump was now resituating itself. “You’ll wake him up.” When the blanket settled again, Valko finally let a slow, relieved exhale. He gently curled his fingers around your upper arm, pulling you just a tiny bit closer into his warmth.
Emboldened by his success, Valko looked down at you, the soft light from the TV reflecting in his eyes and illuminating his handsome features. He leaned in slowly, his gaze dropping to your lips.
“Grrrr…”
A muffled growl emanated from the blanket. The lump didn't even move, but the canine’s internal radar was clearly operational. Valko paused, his lips just inches from yours, a look of utter frustration crossing his face.
“He’s psychic,” Valko accused, his eyes narrowing at the blanket. “There's no other explanation.”
You couldn't help but chuckle. Deciding you had had enough of the four-pound dictator, you reached up, cupping Valko’s jaw with both hands, and pulled him down into a firm, loving kiss. You deepened the kiss just long enough to hear him groan into it.
“Finally,” Valko whispered against your lips when you pulled away, a warm smile lighting up his face.
— — —
The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through your bedroom curtains. You blinked your eyes open, feeling the slow rise and fall of Valko’s chest beneath your cheek. Some time in the middle of the night, you had fallen asleep on the couch, and Valko—braving a barrage of barks— had carefully carried you to bed.
You were currently tucked securely against his side, your head propped comfortably on his shoulder while his heavy arm wrapped around you, holding you close. You shifted slightly, intending to look up at his face, but stopped when you noticed that Valko was wide awake, staring directly at the ceiling.
“Valko?” you grumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. “Are you okay?”
“Don't move,” he answered, his deep morning voice a rumble in his chest. “This is a hostage situation.”
Curious, you lifted your head just enough to look down the length of his body. You immediately had to bury your face in his neck to smother your laughter.
Stretched out flat on his back, the expanse of Valko’s firm abdomen had beeb claimed. Perched directly in the center of his stomach was your little chihuahua, the dog curled up in a tight ball. The giant wolf-hybrid had been utterly defeated, rendered nothing more than your dog’s personal mattress.
“He followed us from the living room,” Valko explained softly, not daring to breathe too deeply. “He spent an hour just glaring at me from the foot of the bed. This is where he was when I woke up.”
You smiled, sliding your hand up to Valko’s cheek. “What are you complaining for? Seems like he’s finally accepting you.”
“He accepts my body heat,” Valko corrected dryly, though his arm tightened just a fraction around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a soft kiss to your hairline. “Now, please move him. I’ve had to use the bathroom for the last two hours.”
MATSURI. kita shinsuke x reader. 1,145 words. cw: sfw. meet cute, summer festival in the countryside, talk about arranged marriage. // written for @no1frogfan for the hq summer fic exchange hosted by @sodaneko. i hope you enjoy!!
The summer festival in the small farming community is a joyous occasion every year. Paper lanterns are strung up around a large grassy lawn, stalls with delicious food are set up, and there’s a stage where members of the community sing traditional songs to embrace summer.
Kita’s family farm supplies rice to make traditional dishes that are sold at stalls to support the neighborhood association. This year, like each year, he works a stall with his family, but now that the crowd is thinned down and the festival is in full swing his grandmother shoos him away and tells him to go enjoy himself.
Kita smiles to himself. His grandmother is getting to an age where she’s not so subtly anymore asking for grandchildren. Kita is still young, he has time before he has to decide when to start a family. But that doesn’t stop his grandmother from signing him up for a matchmaking service. It doesn’t bother him at all, he knows she means well, so he’ll most likely end up going just to see what the process is like.
Kita is absorbed in his thoughts, passing stalls until he finds something that catches his eye, and reaches for the last taiyaki that he doesn’t realize someone else is reaching for the same one.
His hand bumps against yours and you both immediately pull away. Kita’s grey eyes take you in quickly. You’re wearing a yukata with a subtle floral design. Your hand clutches a small coin purse. Your lips are glossy, but from chapstick or some kind of lip gloss Kita couldn’t say. Still, he has to pull his eyes away from your mouth when he offers you an apology.
“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Kita gestures toward the taiyaki. “Go ahead.”
“But it’s the last one.”
“That’s alright. There are plenty other stalls around. I can find something else.”
You stare at the fish-shaped cake for a few seconds before hesitantly reaching out to grab it. You hand the vendor a bank note and wait patiently for your change. Kita thinks that will be the end of it, he’s already thinking about the baked potatoes he spotted on the way over, but then you take him by surprise.
“Would you like to…share this with me?”
Kita’s eyes widen. To be honest, he feels it’s a bit forward of you to ask when you two only just met. But looking at you once more and the way you bite your bottom lip, how tightly your fingers hold onto the wrapper of the taiyaki, and the drop of perspiration he’s not entirely sure is solely due to the heat that slides down the side of your face, he finds himself a little endeared by your courage.
“I would like that,” he answers.
You both walk toward an empty picnic table and sit across from each other. You tear the taiyaki in half and offer him the bigger piece, which he politely accepts. You both bring your hands together and give thanks for the food before digging in.
Kita feels stiff as he eats. He’s not sure if you can tell but it feels like his body has reverted to being a teenager, shy and uncertain in the presence of a stranger. An attractive one at that.
But you fight through your nerves better than he does. You strike up conversation first and Kita finds that you’re easy to talk to, and he’s glad the conversation doesn’t end when you finish eating. You walk around the festival together while talking about his rice farming and your work at an antique store.
Over shaved ice you find out that you both played volleyball in high school. You admit you only did it because your best friend was desperate to meet the minimum number of students needed to form the club, but you ended up really enjoying it and playing all throughout school. Kita shares his own experience and he feels something stir in his chest when you keep full focus on him. So much so that you don’t realize your ice has started to melt, dripping down your hand.
“Here.” Kita reaches into his pocket for his handkerchief, patting away the moisture away from your hand. “There we go.”
The performances are long done. The singing of cicadas in the background slowly becomes less and less as the sun dips behind the mountain.
“Thank you,” you softly say, ducking your head to hide the way your face betrays your shyness. “Um…do you think you might want to—”
Suddenly, someone calls your name.
You both turn your heads to see an older man and an elderly woman looking your way. The man is waving you over while the elder discreetly pinches his side in admonishment. Still, you stand and apologize for having to leave in the middle of your conversation. Kita says he doesn’t mind, even though his gut is telling him not to let you go. To say something that will guarantee he can see you again. But what?
All his thoughts come to a halt when you bend down and place a brief kiss to his cheek. It last only a second, but to Kita it feels like the world has slowed down as he watches you turn and make your way to that man and woman. He’s able to come to his senses quick enough to blurt out a goodnight when you’re halfway across the grass. You turn and also wish him a goodnight with a warm smile that makes his heart race.
Kita doesn’t see you for another month. You said you lived in the area, but he’s yet to see any sign of you. He didn’t ask for your phone number either, which he’s kicking himself about now.
The summer heat is brutal and all he can think about is how cool and wet your lips were against his cheek when you kissed him. He feels slightly bad when he attends the group date arranged by the matchmaker, already comparing any prospects to you.
When he arrives there are already several other men and women. He finds a spot by the window and introduces himself to those who approach him. Most know about his family’s farm, and one or two ask him about his time playing volleyball in school.
It’s nearly time to begin and the organizer directs everyone to take a seat. Kita hears the door to the room open then close, followed by a faintly familiar voice offering apologies for being late.
Kita find a seat near the end of one of the tables. The seat across from him is empty, but just as he’s sitting down that seat is also becoming occupied. He glances up, not expecting for his heart to suddenly start beating double time in his chest, and his lips part in surprise.
i just don't think touya has any interest in being mean to you. he messes up sometimes for sure he does NOT fall into the perfect boyfriend category but at the end of the day he views you as the sole person on the planet who cares for him and who he can care for in return and be vulnerable around. like unfortunately you are locked in for life. also he kills your asshole boss for you. brings you back the mans wedding ring like a cat drops a dead mouse on your doorstep
