#cat!blade

𝚌𝚊𝚝!b𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝!

it's been a very stressful day for you. instead of bothering cat!blade, you just went off to sulk in bed while he was off napping somewhere. tags: fluff, comfort . . . established relationship.

it didn't take long for your thoughts to spiral, and of course, now you're having a quiet, unexpected breakdown. sure, it might've felt childish, but you also knew that you just had a lot that needed to come out, one way or another. so, with your hand over your face and quiet sniffles and muffled sobs, you lay there, crying, your tears running down your cheeks and staining the pillow beneath you.

you weren't quite sure when or how, but you soon heard a quiet, heavy sigh, jolting you from your breakdown and prompting your hand to leave your face, your teary, red eyes widening as they landed on blade's figure. wordlessly, he crawled in bed, laying on you. despite the almost crushing weight of his impressive body, it felt oddly comforting, grounding, even.

"pet me."

was his simple command. if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was just being needy and clingy-- but there was something in his eyes, a quiet intensity as he stared up at you from your chest, that you knew it was for your sake more than his.

sniffling and rubbing your eyes, you let your features soften as you run your fingers through his soft hair, the tears slowing as you lightly rubbed his scalp and scratched behind his cat ears that flicked with your touches. you could feel his tail lightly swatting against the exposed skin of your leg, his eyes closing as he burrowed his head a little more into your chest, purrs rumbling from his throat; a deep, soothing sound.

your mind blissfully clears, your body relaxes some more, your tears stopping and leaving only puffy eyes, stained tracks along your cheeks, and a dull ache in your head. but you barely registered any of it as you hug blade closer, to which he responds by tightening his grip around you.

he lifts his head a little, his crimson eyes staring into yours, his chin still resting on your chest. soft, tender strokes of his calloused fingers brush against your cheek and eyes, a far cry from the ruthless and brutal warrior blade could be.

"better?" he grunts, his voice low and softer than usual.

"yeah. thanks, blade..."