#btw you just have to pet his hair gently and he’ll purr

[kendyroy]

do you guys think wade googles cat-related questions to understand his little meow meow logan better?

i imagine his search history would be a lot like

“why does my cat rub against me?”

“why does my cat have a really deep meow?”

“does pspsps actually work to get the attention of a stubborn kitty?”

“what does my cat think when i meow back?”

“why do the biscuits my cat makes on me hurt so much?”

“what are some ways to encourage my cat to purr more often?”

and logan stumbles upon wade’s search history one day and wonders if wade’s adopted a cat for their apartment in secret

[possiblypeachy]

relax.

–; summary: after she loses someone dear to her and her life becomes isolated, markus is there to comfort her.

–; pairings: markus x fem!reader

–; word count: 1.5k

–; themes: angsty fluff :'( comforting though so :)) too???

–; warnings: mentioned death of a pet

–; note: i properly adore cats so this made me gently :( this is a psa for you all to send me pictures of your pets too btw. i referred to the cat as a male, since it was gendered in the request, so apologies if you wanted to read this with a girl kitty in mine!

since this was really specific, i don't know if this is particularly great, so apologies if it's kinda short and bad but hey! i tried :,)

masterlist if you liked this, read these rules and request here, maybe? ;)

Anyone who said that cats were malicious could suck your little toe or worse. Growing up alongside (Cat's name) was something that had created more lovely memories than anything else you could think of. Hearing him purr as you drifted to sleep, seeing blown-wide pupils whenever you skittered your fingers along the carpet, feeling his tail curl around your legs almost like a gentle kiss; God, you had loved him.

You couldn't believe you hadn't been there.

A few days ago you had received a tear-filled call from your mother, saying that (Cat's name) had to be put down. It had shocked you so much that you didn't cry at first-- muttering a chant of “No, why? He's fine.” down the line to your weeping mom. Admittedly, he was old now-- not the spirited kitten you'd bought all those years ago-- but that didn't stop you from breaking down when the phone call ended.

You hated that you couldn't be one of the last faces that he saw before he left. You hated that he might not even remember you. What if he thought you'd abandoned him in his last months?

No, no, no.

The tapping of your keyboard had slowed to a stop and your sight finally regained focus. It was like your body was urging you on to finish your essay-- to distract yourself-- but your mind just wanted to wallow in sadness for longer. You wanted to remember every detail about (Cat's name): the sound of his yowl, the patterns in his fur, the whiskers that tickled your face when you gave him a hug.

Your body told your mind to hush and you began typing again.

Being preoccupied with schoolwork was, ultimately, the best way to swerve your mind away. You felt horrible for not allowing yourself time to grieve but what else could you do? You had an education to face and secluding yourself for a few weeks would do nothing to help. Surround yourself with those you love, you had said. Without being able to go back to family, that meant one person: Markus.

He'd come to check on you a few times since (Cat's name) had passed but, each time he'd voiced concern about your state, you'd given him one of those weak smiles and insisted that you were fine. You were not.

Keys rattled in the lock to your door and you took a deep inhale before swivelling in your chair. “(Name)? Are you in?”

“Of course I am, Markus.” You replied. There was a hint of something in your voice that Markus noticed: melancholy, fatigue? His lips pursed, he closed the door behind him, then made his way to your desk-- turning lights on that you had yet not this evening.

Dual-coloured eyes bore into your so obviously exhausted form. Hair was messy, under eyes were dark-- didn't he see you in that exact hoodie yesterday? Markus gave you a half-concerned, half-sympathetic smile as he placed a bag down next to your computer. “Have you eaten yet today?”

You already knew the answer but you stalled when you turned in your chair to look at the time on the illuminated screen of your laptop. 23:14. Was it really that late? “No, not really. Had an apple at lunch, I think, but I was too busy to eat a whole meal.” You said this while swirling to face him once again, meeting his stare when you finished speaking.

Markus crossed his arms over his chest and gently raised one brow. “It's a good thing I brought you some then, isn't it?” He unravelled his arms just enough to gesture toward the bag he was holding mere moments ago. Your gaze flickered from him to the food and, with haste that was almost like a squirrel snatching a snack from someone's fingers, you grabbed the bag and placed it on your lap.

Besides the sound of Markus throwing his jacket down onto the nearest surface, silence settled over you both for a few moments as you tucked into the sandwich he'd given you. He pulled up a chair and you paused. “What are you doing?”

Your eyes rolled and you slumped back in your chair, swallowing your bite of food. “Finishing the essay. I know you told me to relax for once but--”

“Then why aren't you, (Name)?” He interjected, a mix of gentle frustration and worry weaved through his question.

You opened your mouth to speak but said nothing. Instead, your gaze suddenly dipped away from his and you turned in your chair, placing your food back on your desk and placing your fingers on your keyboard. “I'm fine, Markus. I just need to get this done then everything will be okay.”

“It's about (Cat's name), isn't it?” He'd put the thought forward with such care that you almost felt bad for giving him the cold shoulder.

Silence. Then you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “No, Markus, honestly, I'm okay. I just--” Your breath caught in your throat unexpectedly and your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose, “-- I just need to finish this.”

You could hear his chair move and, after a few moments, you felt a hand on your shoulder. He didn't tug. You didn't move.

“Please talk to me about it, (Name).”

With a heavy swallow, your body shifted to face him. His features were so... soft. He looked like the embodiment of care; for someone who was still viewed as a 'robot' in certain countries, he'd never appeared more human. If you were going to spill your regrets, the best person would be him.

“Fine. Fine. You already know that he was...” As you turned your chair again, you stopped for a second or so, sight flitting to the floor, “He was put down.” Markus nodded, moving to slip his hand into yours when you'd swivelled fully. Fingers squeezed around yours when he saw the almost absent look in your eyes and the way your throat kept on twitching. Your lips pursed. “I guess I feel kind of...-- I don't know, I don't know--”

A voice crack and a long blink. You swallowed. Markus' thumb brushed over the back of your hand. “I feel... guilty. Guilty that I...” You rolled your lips inward so that you could bite at them from inside your mouth-- almost like you were inadvertently trying to seal them shut, “Guilty that I wasn't there when he passed. We were together always when I was young and I...I...”

Tears came now and the next inhale you did was more like a hiccup. Going-red eyes met his and he felt his artificial heart twist. “What if he hated me when he left?”

One of Markus' hands left your own and cupped your face instead, wiping away a tear or two on your cheek. It was like he was trying to ground you-- bring your mind from that wretched place to him and the here and now. “No.” While caring, he was stern, his grip on your hand tightening somewhat. “No-- don't think like that.” A smile that was almost mirroring your sadness formed on his lips but, in a strange way, it comforted you. “Do you really believe that he'd had the person who used to sneak him food from her meals? Or, that he'd hate the girl who spent hours in the rain looking for him when he'd gotten lost?”

The tears had slowed now and, through an in-and-out routine of breaths, you were almost smiling. “He could never hate you, (Name); you grew together, you shaped each other, you loved each other. He'll always remember that.”

You were smiling now and the crying became more emotional than sad. You used Markus' grip on your hand as leverage to pull him forward into a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck and face breathing in his sweater. “Thank you, Markus. Really. I just feel so horrible; he was my best friend and I... should’ve been there to see him off.”

“I’m sure he was thinking about you in his last moments, (Name). Thinking about all the little strokes and cuddles you gave him.”

You smiled into his sweater almost fondly, nostalgia laced through your expression. You’d give anything to pet him again, to have him sat on your lap in the winter. Forever would you remember the little meows he’d shout at you when he wanted food and the delighted purr that would rumble through him when you spoke to him in that high-pitched voice. 

But, you shouldn’t remember him in sadness-- you should remember him for all the joy he gave you through his years. He’d prefer it that way, you think.

Markus paused and pulled back from the embrace. “Does this mean you're going to sleep at a reasonable time tonight?”

You laughed quietly and, though you couldn't see it when your head tilted back, he looked at you with a mix of adoration and amusement, smiling so very gently back at you. “Only if you'll keep me company.”

“Of course.”