Cat Shifter Reader - Tumblr Posts

SHE FUCKING ATE THEM 🤭

cat shifter reader x 141 pt.3

I got cold called while writing this but at least that's over with LMAO

The boys kept an eye on the cat for the next few days. Not that much happens; they haven't seen a peep of the girl they found in the attic, but maybe that was a good thing. If this cat could turn human, and only did so involuntarily when weak, then her non-human-ness could mean she was getting better. Or so they hoped.

Poor thing constantly sniffled and hardly ate, and Gaz had gone the length of getting cans and cans of wet cat food (--after a debate, of course, because they weren't sure what to feed you). But all the kitty insisted on doing was sit in Soap's bed (because he was still kicked out), and making a fuss whenever they got too close. Not scratching, because she had no energy to, but hissing with stubborn abandon. And it had already been so long before Price marched in to grab her by the scruff--in his worry-motivated frustration, of course--scolding:

"Look, you tiny devil. Either you eat something, or you go back to the barn. Got it?"

The cat gives him a blank, unbothered stare, then sneezes hard, sending a splatter of wet whatever-that-was across his beard. And she licks her tiny chompers as though happy with herself--content with the scrunched nose and deepened frown of the man holding her. Gaz gags; Soap snorts.

But she nods.

The sergeants do a double take.

"Was that--" Gaz begins, only to shake his head. "So you can understand us when you're..." He gestures up and down. "Like this?"

The cat glares at him, then wriggles free from Price's grip, onto the floor where she stretches languidly and licks her paw. She then trots past Gaz to head off to the kitchen, where she methodically--one by one--opens each cabinet to search through them.

"Would ya look at that," Soap grins, seeing her pick out a snack, then sassily close one of the cabinets with a hind leg. "Made herself right at home. Say, Gaz, maybe you'll get to keep her after all."

"Dunno if that's for us to decide," Gaz mutters. "'Less she decides to adopt us. And uh-- no offense, sir," he smiles sheepishly, looking over at Price, who's busy wiping the liquid from his face, "I don't exactly think we're in her good graces."

"You think?"

As soon as the cat hopped back in bed, she put her front legs up, and drew one claw on each paw. The middle ones.

AKA--fuck you.

Gaz returns the cat food the day after.