Woso imagines

Katie < something smells fishy

Dinner had started out so well, really. You and Katie were seated by the window, the soft glow of the restaurant's warm lighting bouncing off her features, making her look impossibly lovely. The evening seemed perfect, with a cozy atmosphere and the excitement of a rare night out.

That is, until she ordered her meal.

"Yer gonna love this," Katie had said with a mischievous grin, watching as the server placed a steaming dish in front of her. It was fish—some kind of specialty from who-knows-where—but the smell hit you like a punch to the face. A pungent, almost unholy aroma rose from her plate, assaulting your senses so hard you actually flinched.

"Katie," you coughed, half-laughing but mostly gagging. "What is that smell?"

She looked at you innocently, twirling her fork. "What, ya don' like it?"

"Like it? I can barely breathe!" You held your nose, trying to stave off the stench wafting across the table. She gave you a wicked grin, clearly amused.

"Aw, yer jus' dramatic, darlin'. C'mere, I'll share it wit' ya." She forked up a particularly oily piece, holding it out to you with a playful look.

"Oh no, absolutely not!" You leaned back, holding your hands up defensively. "You eat it, I'll stick to my pasta, thanks."

Katie's laughter filled the air, rich and unapologetic. "Yer such a baby, ya know that? Ya can't handle a bit o' fish?"

"I could handle it just fine," you countered, trying to keep your voice steady despite your watery eyes. "If it didn't smell like it crawled out of the sewer!"

Katie only chuckled and took a big, deliberate bite, chewing happily while you grimaced and looked away.

Dinner was a trial. You did your best to ignore the smell, but every time you thought you'd managed it, she'd lift a piece to her mouth and make a big show of savoring it, eyes sparkling with mischief as you held back a gag. It was torture. By the time the meal was over, you were counting the seconds until you'd be back in fresh air.

At last, you were outside, taking a deep breath of cool, clean night air as you walked to the car. Katie was by your side, looking quite pleased with herself as you reached the car.

"Yer ridiculous, ya know tha'?" she teased, nudging you. "Can't even take a bit o' fish smell."

"A bit of fish smell?" you spluttered. "Katie, that was enough to make an entire harbor smell like roses by comparison!"

She just laughed, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the car. But before you could even reach for the door, she blocked you in with an arm on either side, trapping you between her and the car. She gave you a playful grin, her face inches from yours.

"Katie, don't you even think about it," you warned, realizing where this was going.

"Oh, c'mon, darlin'," she cooed, inching closer. "It's jus' a lil' kiss."

"Nope!" you said firmly, pressing your hands against her shoulders to stop her. "Not with that fishy breath, I'm not kissing you!"

"Ah, yer full o' it. I've kissed ya worse." She leaned in, her lips dangerously close, clearly loving every second of your discomfort.

"Seriously, Katie," you said, trying to duck away, "if you kiss me right now, I will puke."

She raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting with amusement. "Ya won't."

"Katie, I mean it!"

But she didn't listen. Ignoring your protests, she closed the distance, pressing her lips to yours with a triumphant grin. It took every bit of strength you had not to gag immediately. Her breath was soaked in that horrendous fish, and it was all you could do to keep your dinner down. But as soon as she pulled away, the taste hit full force.

"Oh my god—Katie!" you gasped, shoving her away and leaning over, hands on your knees as your stomach twisted in protest.

She burst out laughing, clearly pleased with herself—until she noticed your face, pale and looking like you really might be sick.

"Oh... oh no, yer actually gonna—"

"I told you!" you choked out, hand clamped over your mouth. "I warned you, didn't I?"

Katie's smile faltered, turning into a mixture of horror and mild offense. "Wait, yer seriously 'bout to puke jus' from kissin' me?"

"Yes, Katie!" you groaned, stepping back as you took a deep breath, trying to calm your stomach. "I told you it was disgusting!"

Katie put a hand to her chest, looking at you with mock hurt. "Well, that's jus' rude, darlin'. Ya don' see me complainin' 'bout yer breath."

"Oh, don't give me that," you shot back, still holding your stomach. "If my breath ever smells like that fish did, then please complain."

She scoffed, crossing her arms, still half-amused but with a slight pout on her lips. "Fine, I'll remember tha' next time I want ta give ya a kiss. See if I bother now."

You sighed, finally feeling a bit steadier. "Katie, I did warn you. It's your own fault for not taking me seriously!"

She mumbled something under her breath, rolling her eyes. "Can't believe ya jus' nearly threw up on me. All 'cause o' one lil' kiss..."

"One little nasty kiss!" you clarified, finally managing a weak smile. "That fish was a crime against humanity, Katie. No one should have to go through that."

She narrowed her eyes at you, trying to suppress a laugh, though a faint blush had crept onto her cheeks. "Yeah, yeah. Next time I'll jus' brush me teeth for an hour before comin' near ya, alright?"

You grinned, leaning in to give her shoulder a reassuring pat. "That's all I ask. Now, can we please go home so I can rinse this taste out of my mouth?"

Katie rolled her eyes, finally opening the car door for you with an exaggerated sigh. "Yer impossible, ya know that?"

"Maybe," you admitted, climbing in and buckling up, still fighting back laughter. "But at least I'm not making people nearly pass out from my dinner choices."

Katie huffed, a smirk playing on her lips as she got in beside you. "Aye, well, I'll have ya know, I enjoyed tha' meal. An' ya can bet I'll be orderin' it again."

"Oh, fantastic," you deadpanned, eyes widening in mock horror. "I'll be sure to bring a gas mask next time."

Her laughter filled the car, and despite the ordeal, you couldn't help but smile as you pulled out onto the road, heading home, the faint taste of that awful fish lingering as an amusing reminder of your ever-unpredictable, ever-mischievous girlfriend.