i want to kry-oz (x reader)

"Oh, they said a new flight opened up for me." I closed the fridge, cold pizza in hand. "I get to leave in the morning."

"Good, get out of my house." Jaren waved me toward the door, grinning.

"Shut up, you love me here." The chills swept over me, leaving goosebumps along my arms. "It's too cold here, though. I can't wait to get back home."

"Wait, don't you land in America for a bit before actually getting home?" He looked at my phone. "Yeah, you gotta stay in Washington for a few hours. That's where Kryoz lives, Vancouver."

"Its funny, because I never once asked." Snatching my phone back, I wolfed down my pizza. "Lets watch The Incredibles before I go, yeah?"

"Sure."

"God, save me."

I stood in the Vancouver airport, silently praying to someone above that I was only reading wrong. However, it was true; the following flights were cancelled due to weather or something.

"No... fuck."

With some hope in my body, I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts, dialing my brother.

He picked up immediately. "What happened?"

"I'm stuck in Vancouver. It's apparently too dangerous to fly out of here, so they're delaying my flight until further notice." I began to move toward an exit, wheeling my minimal amount of luggage behind me. "Can you link my PayPal in your video so someone can support me while I stay in a hotel?"

"No, but... uh..." I heard movement on the other line before he sighed. "I know you don't want to, but can you possibly stay with Kryoz? I can't send you any money, I spent it all on your dumb fluffy socks before you left."

"A very intelligent investment." I shrugged. "I mean, I'd rather stay with that guy than on the side of the road."

"Okay, I'll let him know to pick you up fron the airport."

Once he hung up, I stepped outside the big doors onto the bustling pathway. I tucked my phone into my pocket and looked around. It wasn't the worst place ever, and it looked pretty good. The people weren't Satan, and I could smell something pretty good nearby.

I decided to investigate, spying some chicken tendies on someone's menu. "Heck yes."

That's how I blew the rest of my money on chicken tendies at the airport. Worth every penny.

My phone began to ring, and I didn't bother looking at the number as I answered. "Henlo, buddy. Don't worry, my feet pics are still on sale."

"Thank god. Anyways, where are you?" Kryoz's voice echoed over the line and I huffed. "I dunno, near the exit. Or the entrance. I can't tell."

"Can you see someone with a very vibrant umbrella?"

I looked around, spotting him across the ways. This is where I realised that he had no idea what I looked like. "No. I'll head to the other big doors, then. Can't wait to live with you permanently."

I hung up, slowly creeping toward the male in question. I made sure this was him, spying one vital detail.

Coloured nails. It's him, alright.

He had messy hair and a very confident sense of fashion, as well as the most absurd umbrella the world could have seen. Totally my type.

"'Scuse me, sir." I pulled out my best Australian accent. "Ya' gotta pen I can borrow?"

He seemed to be nonchalant enough. "Uh, yeah. Here."

He pulled out a regular-looking pen, and I winked. "Cheers, mate."

Then, finally finding the best thing to write, I yanked his arm forward and scribbled 'yOu hAvE bEaR fIStS?' in the messiest writing I could fathom.

"Alright, we can go now." I handed back his pen and inhaled another chimken tender. "I'm [Y/n], your newest responsibility."

"That Australian accent was... absolute shit. Terrible. Lets go." He was totally got, pulling me toward the Taxi zone. "Give me a chicken tender."

"Absolutely not, thanks." I moved them out of his reach, though the six foot male had a larger wing span than I thought, and he yoinked one anyways.

"Hey! That means you have to make dinner, no cap."

"Make what? Who even eats anymore?" The eating male asked. "What's dinner? Who cooks?"

"I can't wait to kick your dog or something." I replied. He waved over a cab as I finished my food. "Do you have a dog?"

"... Do you count?"

"No, because my fursona is actually a ferret."

"Neat pad." His place was pretty cool, not gonna lie. "Who else lives here?"

"My boyfriends." He lead me into a room upstairs. "Usually, anyways. They're out doing some dumb shit. I've got the place to myself until..." He looked at his watch. "Sunday."

"Oh, so like, a week?" I grinned. "Sick."

"Yeah. Anyways, since the guys locked their rooms and took the keys, you get my room and I'll stay on the couch. You won't be here long."

My nose scrunched. "No. I want the couch."

"Well fuck you, my couch." He shot back, throwing my luggage onto his bed before barrelling down the stairs.

"Fuck you, mine now!" I sped after him, almost tripping as I leapt onto the cushions.

"Excuse me, do you even rent?" He sat beside me in very clear defeat. I'm super cool like that. "Pay your lease."

"I'm avoiding taxes." My arms weren't long enough to grab the remote for the TV, so I sat and lazed around. "Shoot me."

"If I had a gun, I'd go out first."

"Try me. I'd yoink it so fast--"

"I have the grip of like, some strong guy from those movies. Or the Rock."

"Choke me out then, bitch boy."

The rest of the afternoon continued like this, and I couldn't help but appreciate how hashtag-relatable he was.