Slipknot short stories

Kitten shenanigans [chris x reader]

Made by
13dollz

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You heard the door to your apartment open and close quietly, like whoever was entering was trying their best to be sneaky. You rolled your eyes. There was only one person it could be at this hour. You quickly finished typing out an email to your boss before hitting send and walking out of your room.

Chris was passed out on the couch, probably drunk off his ass. He had his mask on for some reason, so you guessed he went out with the guys. You pulled his mask off his face to let him breathe. His face was red and he was sweating.

"Hey, hey nose boy," you whispered, patting his face. He opened his eyes and looked up.

"You're hot." His words were slurred.

"Thanks, okay come on get up."

"What?" he groaned.

"Come on we gotta get you to bed." He just rolled over and smushed his face into a pillow.

"No, I wanna st-stay here."

"Jesus christ, how drunk are you?" You grabbed his hand and started tugging him up to a seated position. He yawned.

"It was like I don't know maybe three." You looked him up and down.

"Yeah that's a lie. Let's go." You hooked his arm over your shoulder and half dragged, half carried him to your room. He flopped on the bed, in the dead center mind you, and curled into fetal position.

"G'night."

"'Night idiot." You kissed his cheek and pulled off his shoes, setting them to the side of the bed. He was snoring before you made it back to the living room. You grabbed his mask and put it on the bookshelf. He would have a conniption if it got damaged. It'd be all his fault though for not taking care of it.

You turned around to grab his backpack and heard a noise. What the fuck was that? It sounded like some sort of squeak. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Chris's backpack move.

I'm going to kill him. If it's some sort of squirrel or rat, I'm kicking his ass out of our goddamned apartment. You tentatively approached the backpack, holding a rolled up magazine just in case. You used the magazine to prod open the main pocket and your jaw dropped.

It was not a squirrel. It was not a rat. It was the cutest goddamn kitten you had ever seen. It was so tiny. Small, and grey, with big green eyes and white dipped paws.

I'm going to fucking kill him. We can't have a kitten, but he knows I won't get rid of a kitten, so I guess we have a kitten now. The bastard found my weakness.

You rubbed your fingertips together and approached it carefully, making the pss pss pss sound.

"C'mere kitty. It's going to be alright. I'm not going to hurt you." You could have sworn the kitten gave you a skeptical look, before coming forward and sniffing your hand.

"That's it, that's a good gir-" You stopped. You didn't know if it was a girl or a boy. Not that it mattered, you would love them anyways. Once it got close enough you picked it up and held it close to your chest. Feeling it's fur you discovered a small blue collar with a tag. The tag read: Rocky Fehn, born July 23rd, sex: M. So it was a boy, and it was only three months old.

Your heart squeezed. I'm in love. I love him. He's perfect. And you weren't talking about Chris. Speaking of Chris, you needed to talk to him in the morning about not bringing home small animals he knew you couldn't let go of.

"Welp Rocky, in the morning we're going to talk to your daddy and I'm going to tell him he's an idiot." You whispered. "You got lucky though because you're so damn cute."