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The Safest Place

A/N: Hello! I have finally finished this Sherlock x sister!reader fic I’ve been working on for days now! It starts off pretty angsty, but it’s all fluff at the end, I promise you.

Honestly, this story was so amazing to write. I can relate to it a lot. There’s mentions of medication, but it’s nothing triggering or anything - I take the medication in this story for the exact reason she (the sister) does.

It’s a long one, but I worked hard on it, and I really, really hope you enjoy!

Title: The Safest Place

Summary: You haven’t been sleeping, and despite being Sherlock Holmes, your brother can’t seem to understand why. That is until you tell him, and things start to make sense.

Words: 8290

“Why aren’t you speaking to me?”

You said nothing, not even glancing up at the words, intent on continuing with your homework.

Sherlock sighed for probably the twelfth time in ten minutes and repeated his question.

“Why aren’t you speaking to me? Y/N?”

John chuckled from where he was sat at the kitchen table, drinking a mug of coffee he’d made only a few moments ago. “You know why, Sherlock.”

The consulting detective frowned. “I really don’t, John. Please enlighten me.”

You rolled your eyes from where you were sat. For someone who deducted people for a living, he was terribly bad at pointing out the absolute obvious. Staring at a particular hard question on your math paper, you tried to work out the calculation in your head. You didn’t understand it, if you were being completely honest - you didn’t understand how Sherlock, Mycroft, and Eurus could have all been born with possibly the most intelligent brains on the planet, able to work out a man’s morning routine just by the colour of his tie, and yet here you were, struggling on something as simple as an equation you’d practiced with John thousands of times. Although you were smart - one of the smartest in your school, in fact - your brain was nowhere near as clever as any of your siblings’. Maybe you would have been able to work it out if Sherlock just stopped with his incessant questions!

“You told your brother she’d stopped taking her medication, and now he’s monitoring her.”

You couldn’t help but scoff as you heard it. Honestly, why couldn’t they understand that you just didn’t want to take the stupid tablets anymore? You didn’t need them.

Sherlock glanced over at you, before looking back at John. “Seriously? That’s why she’s blatantly ignoring me - because I told Mycroft she’d stopped taking something that keeps her migraines at bay? Something that stops her suffering?”

“Apparently so.”

“You agree with me!”

“Yeah, I do. But I didn’t tell Mycroft.”

“You would have told him if I didn’t!”

“But I didn’t. You got there first.”

“So, I’m the one who gets ignored?”

“Precisely.”

Sherlock slumped down in his chair and groaned. “Why does being an older brother have to be so hard?”

John grinned, taking a drink of his coffee. “You love it.”

A smile was all he got in response.

“Fifty-three!”

Both men furrowed their eyebrows in confusion and turned to you.

“Have I missed something?” John asked, and you blushed slightly.

“No, just… worked out an answer to this question.”

“See! If you keep trying, you’ll get there eventually.”

At this, Sherlock grit his teeth together and looked pointedly at you. “Yes,” he said, “maybe if you try to speak to me, you’ll see how easy it is.”

You didn’t even acknowledge that your brother had just spoken to you. You couldn’t. Not after what he’d done.

Rolling his eyes as if he’d just read your mind, Sherlock turned in his chair to face you. “Y/N, this is truly getting ridiculous, now. If you hadn’t stopped taking your medication, I would have had no reason to inform Mycroft. Honestly, I am quite glad he is monitoring you, if it means you will get the correct dosage each day and have no risk of getting another migraine.”

This broke you. You turned, glowering at Sherlock. “I can deal with the migraines, okay? I don’t need those stupid tablets!”

“Oh,” the man said, mouth set in a grim line, “you do know how to speak.”

You shook your head in disgust, grabbing your homework and pens and storming off to your room, slamming the door shut and practically throwing yourself onto your bed. Your eyes locked onto the box of blue tablets on your bedside table, and you turned over.

You had been suffering from migraines since you were only a small child. The doctors had tried all kinds of medication, but none of them had seemed to work. That was until around seven months ago, when they had started you on a new pill. You’d taken them for a while, and the migraines had seemed to stop. Those tablets kept the agonising headaches at bay, and you had been relieved that you’d finally found something to ease your pain and end your suffering.

A side effect of the medication was tiredness, which hadn’t bothered you at first. If anything, they helped you sleep much better. But, then it’d happened.

Mary had died.

And suddenly you’d found yourself having nightmares. Anything tragic that had ever happened to you in your life came rushing back to you in the form of terrifying dreams the medication only increased. Mary’s death had seemed to trigger something terrible, and you couldn’t escape them.

Moriarty.

Threat.

Death.

Sherlock.

Falling.

Death.

Mary.

Gun.

Death.

Everything resulted in death. Death. Death. You couldn’t get rid of them, and you quickly deduced that it was your new medication which was making it harder for you to wake up during a nightmare. Sherlock had run into your room so many times during the night, desperately trying to wake you after hearing your heart-wrenching screams for help. You had had nightmares as a child after coming in close contact with a serial killer that had tried to kidnap you in order to get to Sherlock, and so your brother must have come to the conclusion that they were simply starting up again. But… they were so much worse than that. You were terrified. So, you stopped taking the pills. The migraines were horrible - you couldn’t deal with them, no matter how much you insisted you could - but nothing was worse than the dreams that plagued you every night. If you had to choose one to give up, you knew which one it would be.

You had stopped taking them two weeks ago, four months after the woman you considered a mother’s death, and everything had seemed to be working out fine. The pills seemed to have a lasting effect, as you hadn’t experienced a migraine since you’d stopped taking them, but it was only a matter of time before they started up again. And the nightmares… they were still coming. It was easier for you to wake yourself up during one now that the increased tiredness was gone, but they still haunted you every night. So, you did the only thing that was left for you to do.

You stopped sleeping.

Every single night, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, just thinking. About Sherlock. About John. About Mary…

You should have known that trying to hide this from your brother was practically pointless. Sherlock had noticed you were getting unusually drowsy during the day, which he was fairly confused about. You had been quite tired during the first couple months of taking your new medication, but that was to be expected. It had been over half a year since you’d started taking the tablets, though, and so your body should be used to them by now. But you were so tired. It was obvious to anyone who looked at you.

Needless to say, Sherlock had found the boxes of tablets in your room and had clearly seen that there were two weeks’ worth of pills in there that shouldn’t have been. He and John had both questioned you about it – the doctor getting extremely pissed, to say the least – but they didn’t need to ask you to know you had stopped taking them. Why, they didn’t know. Sherlock had tried to ask you, but you wouldn’t talk to him after he’d told Mycroft, who had gotten extremely angry at you that you would ‘make yourself suffer like that’ and promised to personally ‘monitor’ you from then on to ensure you were taking your two tablets before you went to bed.

You knew your eldest brother was only trying to help – underneath the ice in his heart, there was a warmth there reserved just for you – but he didn’t understand! No one did.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, not bothering to reach up and wipe it away. This wasn’t selfish, was it? Crying because Mary was dead? You knew John must be feeling worse than you, which was why you hadn’t talked to anyone about how you were feeling.

You couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t have a right to cry for her. But you missed her. So much…

“You need to go to her,” John said, staring at his best friend over the top of his coffee mug.

Sherlock sighed loudly, rubbing a hand down his face. “And say what? I’m not apologising.”

“I don’t expect you to,” John told him, “I wouldn’t either. You’ve done nothing wrong, just… talk to her. Please? If she really wants you to leave, she’ll tell you to go, but right now, I think she just needs her big brother.”

“Didn’t seem like it.”

“Bloody hell! Look, there’s clearly more to this. She hasn’t stopped taking the medication because she feels like it, has she? Find out what’s wrong. Talk to her. Be there for her.”

“Do you really think she’ll tell me?”

“If she’s going to tell anyone, it’ll be you, Sherlock.”

You jumped slightly as you heard the door to your room open, and glanced over your shoulder. It was Sherlock. You were too tired to do much else except roll back over and take in a shaky breath. The tears had dried on your cheeks now, leaving thin, silvery trails in their wake, and your eyes were heavy with tiredness. You were struggling to keep them open, and you were afraid you’d give in to the pull of sleep anytime soon.

You felt the bed dip slightly, and then movement as your brother lay back beside you. He was silent for a moment, probably analysing the depressed ball of sorrow he called his little sister lying next to him, before he spoke. “Y/N?”

You decided not to answer him. You didn’t want him to leave, but that didn’t mean you had to speak to him.

“Are you going to continue to ignore me?” When he got no response, he continued. “Alright, then. Listen… I know I can be… difficult, at times. I’m not the best older brother, I understand that very much - sometimes, I wonder if you would be any different had you lived with Mycroft – but I do try. I have only ever made two vows in my life: one, at Mary and John’s wedding, and two, when you were born. I vowed to protect you with my life, and to ensure that you would never be hurt while I am living. Your migraines are one of those things I promised to protect you from, and while I know I cannot physically do that, I can do it by making sure you take your medication. When I found out you hadn’t been, I was… confused. Confused as to why you would willingly let yourself suffer. I know there is something more to it – I would greatly appreciate it if you informed me of what that is, by the way – but I still did not understand. I suppose I was angry with myself, for not noticing it before. I felt like I should have realised straight away that you were hurting. I wasn’t there for you, and I apologise for that. What I will not apologise for, on the other hand, is telling our brother. It may not seem like it, Y/N, but I know Mycroft cares for us both deeply. He loves you with all his heart, and I’m afraid I would have been in a lot of trouble had I not told him and he found out from someone else. We both owe it to him, believe it or not, to tell him these things. Mycroft deserved to know exactly what was happening as much as I did, and although I cannot say I knew he would start monitoring you after, I’m quite glad he is. It’ll only be daily check-ups, just to make sure you’re taking them; I would have done it, but apparently you know me well enough to work out a way of making it look like you’ve taken them, when in reality, you haven’t. And, once we trust you enough to take the correct dosage each night, he’ll leave you alone. I know he will. He’s not completely terrible, if you can believe that.”

He sighed. “I suppose what I’m trying to say here is that all I want to do is protect you. We both know that you’re not able to deal with the migraines – they hurt you immensely, and it hurts me to see you in pain. But you need to understand that you are not, and will never be, alone in this. I’m here for you, as is John, and Mycroft, and Lestrade, and Molly and Mrs Hudson. My life… my life revolves around my family, my friends, and my work. Nothing else – I don’t have time for anything else – just those three. If I can keep you safe from the cruelness that is our world, then I know I am doing something right. I don’t care if you ignore me all day, or scream that you hate me, or stamp on my feet and then storm off to your room and have a little tantrum… I don’t care. All I care about is protecting you, and keeping you safe, and loving you. That is paramount, and that is what I will spend my whole life doing.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you kept your mouth shut. Sherlock had never said anything like that to you – or anyone, for that matter. He’d told you he loved you many times before, but he’d never practically said an entire speech to you. The way he said it… he had known exactly what to say to make you feel like crap.

“Are you still ignoring me?” he asked softly, and your eyes widened, like you had forgotten he was still there. You glanced over your shoulder before turning to lie on your back.

“No, no I’m not. I just… thank you.”

Sherlock smiled, though you couldn’t see. He reached over and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you up to him. You let yourself be moved, immediately going to rest your head on his shoulder and curl your fist into his shirt. “For what?” he asked.

“For… making me see sense, I suppose,” you told him hesitantly, voice cracking just a bit. You suddenly felt his words catch up to you, and a sudden want to just cry filled you. You buried your face in his chest and sobbed. “Oh, God, I-I’m really sorry, Sherlock! I f-feel so horrible! I’m a horrible person! I’m a horrible sister! I’m sorry, so- so sorry, Sh-Sherlock!”

“Shush, now,” your brother told you, leaning down to kiss your unruly hair. He rubbed your back soothingly. “Stop crying, Y/N, or I’m afraid it might trigger a migraine. We don’t want that, okay? Please try to stop crying for me, alright? Everything is fine, everything’s okay. You’re okay.”

You closed your eyes and took in shuddering breath by shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. Your brother’s comforting words were helping immensely, and you soon found yourself lying completely still, hiccups interrupting the silence every few seconds. Sherlock looked down at you, not pausing in rubbing your back.

“First of all,” he said quietly, “I want you to know that in no way do I appreciate you calling yourself a horrible person. You are not, and never will be, what you claim to be, do you understand? You are beautiful, Y/N, both inside and out, and I cannot even begin to name all the people who love you. This… all of this changes absolutely none of that. The fact that you stopped taking your medication does not make you a terrible person, or a terrible sister, it means there is something I am missing; something you need help with. So, secondly, I would like you to tell me what that is, if possible. Whatever you say will stay between us, if you would like. I will not tell Mycroft, or John, or anyone if you do not wish me to. Just let me help you. Please.”

Help. You wanted it to much. You needed it. And you hadn’t asked for it, because you knew that you’d have to talk about… about them. About the nightmares. And that scared you almost as much as the things themselves. You would be reliving them inside your head, and you couldn’t do that. Not again.

“I can’t…” you whispered, and if Sherlock’s head hadn’t been so close to yours, he wouldn’t have heard you.

“Why not?” he asked. Calmly. Patiently.

“Scared.”

“I know. I know you’re scared. I can see you’re scared. But I’m here. I’ll always be here, Y/N.”

You smiled faintly, before blinking and moving uncomfortably. You knew Sherlock wouldn’t rush you – he’d wait for however long it took for you to say what you needed to say. But you didn’t want to wait. It was better to say it and be done than wait and dwell on it.

“Nightmares.”

It was quiet – a whisper in the enveloping darkness of the room – but your brother heard it. And that was all he needed; a starting point so he knew where to deduct from. He looked at you, narrowed his eyes slightly, and nodded. “Alright,” he said, “if I tell you what I think may be the problem, will you let me know what’s right and what isn’t? Would that be easier than you telling me everything?”

You nodded.

Sherlock looked at you for a moment before patting your back and beginning to speak. “You say nightmares… I assume you are referring to the ones you had not so long ago? They were sudden, weren’t they? I admit I was slightly concerned about those, seeing as the last time you had them was when you were only seven years old… you’ve grown quite a bit since then, haven’t you?” He paused for a moment, as if he’d suddenly dug up childhood memories, before shaking his head slightly and continuing. “Those nightmares were about the man who tried to hurt you. I do not think these recent ones are the same, are they? No. So, that would lead me to believe they are about something else that has happened lately – something… sad. I know what it is, and for both our sakes, I won’t say it. So, nightmares… you’re having nightmares about this recent event, and possibly something else, as those screams were particularly… well. They were upsetting. Anyway. Your medication. Side effects… side effects of this particular pill… nausea, increased appetite, dizziness, weariness… ah. You have been feeling tired lately, which is why I checked your box of tablets in the first place. However, that doesn’t explain why you would be feeling tired now, as you were prescribed that medication exactly seven months and thirteen days ago, meaning your body has had plenty of time to get used to it being in your system. You shouldn’t be feeling sleepy at all, now. Especially since you stopped taking them. There must be something else. Right. Before I continue, I’d like to make sure everything is correct so far. How am I doing?”

“Good,” you told him with a slight smile, which prompted him to lean down and kiss your forehead. He was doing well. Everything he had said was true. Sherlock was speaking in such a calm voice, so unlike his ‘I’m deducting so shut up’ tone which he usually reserved for ‘boring’ clients. He was going slowly, thinking through every point he made so that he got nothing wrong and upset you further, and he clearly cared about this. Right here, in this room, with his sister curled up beside him, he was ‘big brother Sherlock’, not ‘consulting detective Mr Holmes’.

“Okay,” he said. “Nightmares… drowsiness… right. Let’s think about this. Your last nightmare was… eight? Yes. Your last nightmare was eight days ago, which, by my calculations, is exactly two weeks after you stopped taking your pills. And, since then, you haven’t had a nightmare, and you’ve been getting increasingly tired… hmm. I may have to call Mycroft in to help with this one, Y/N; what do you think?”

“No!” you said, looking up at his grinning face. “You’re doing well. Honestly!”

“Well, if you say so,” Sherlock said. It was nice of him to try and lighten the mood a little – you both knew he could easily do this by himself, yet he also knew how difficult this was for you and was doing his absolute best to make sure you were comfortable. “Alright, I think I’ve got enough now to establish why you’ve stopped taking the medication, and why you’ve been so incredibly tired lately. Let’s see. Back to the sleepy side effect of the pill. This could affect a lot of things… every day life, your sleeping routine, the- oh. Oh! The nightmares… when you first started getting them, you’d scream out for help in your sleep. But you must have also woken yourself up in doing that, as you were always half-awake by the time I’d reached your room… these tablets would stop that slightly, getting you to sleep faster, but also keeping you asleep longer. You found that out the hard way, didn’t you, little one? You found it more and more difficult to wake up, which is why you were still fast asleep and immersed in your nightmare whenever I came into your room, most unlike when you were a small child. So, you stopped taking them. You stopped taking your tablets because you believed you’d be able to cope with your nightmares more easily, hm? But they kept coming. You may have found it easier to wake up without the medication in your system, but the nightmares never went away, did they? So, you… oh. Oh, Y/N. Tell me, when was the last time you slept?”

Boom. He’s got it. “You know the answer…”

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me, please.”

“… eight days ago.”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Because of the nightmares?”

“It’s working so far.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked down at you, a disapproving gleam in his eyes. “It’s working so far? Of course it’s bloody working, Y/N - you’re not sleeping, so how could you possibly get a nightmare?!”

“Sherlock!” you said, quickly sitting up. You turned to your brother. “You said what happened between us would stay between us!”

The man frowned. “Yes, I did. And?”

“I’m quite sure John can hear you screaming at me!”

Sherlock stared at you for a moment. It looked like many things were moving around in his brain, which was probably true. After a few seconds, he closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m not- I’m not screaming, Y/N. I’m just a little… how do I put it? Frustrated.”

“Not angry?”

Your brother smiled sadly and reached out to pull you back next to him. “Not angry,” he assured you, “never angry. Just frustrated. And upset. Frustrated and upset.”

“With me?”

“Slightly. But mostly at myself.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. He had already said he was angry with himself for not realising you needed help as soon as you needed it – which was not his fault, by the way – and you could accept the fact that he was a little irritated with you, too. You should have asked for help sooner, instead of suffering through the nightmares by yourself.

“Are we going to talk about it now?” you asked, voice slightly muffled by Sherlock’s shirt.

Sherlock nodded. “Mhm, yes. We need to fix this, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So… your nightmares. Are they only about Mary?”

You didn’t respond. Your heartbeat was slowly increasing, and you felt like crying all over again. Sherlock seemed to notice this, and he moved his hand to gently grab onto yours and rub his thumb along your knuckles.

“I know this is difficult,” he said quietly, “but I need to know how to help you, alright? I can, and I will, make your nightmares stop. But I need you to tell me a bit more, first. Can you do that, little one? Take as long as you need, don’t rush. You’re alright; I’m here.”

You clutched onto his large hand with both of your smaller ones and took in a deep breath. You could do this. Just tell big brother what your nightmares were about, and he’d make them go away. “They’re… yes, they’re mainly about Mary. I know I don’t have as big a cause to be upset about her death as others, but I can’t help it. I miss her so much, Sherlock… the scene in the aquarium just keeps playing over and over in my mind as soon as I go to sleep, and I can’t handle them anymore! I just- I really don’t know what to do!”

Tears were silently streaming down from your eyes, now. Talking about the nightmares made you think about them, and that was hard for you to do. Sherlock reached out and cupped your chin, turning it to face him.

“Y/N, don’t ever say you don’t have a cause to cry about Mary. You were there when it happened – you saw her get shot, and you saw her die. There is no reason for you not to be upset, do you hear me? Honestly, John and I have had discussions regarding our concern for your lack of emotion about it, but it seems your brain transforms that emotion into nightmares, which is a lot worse, isn’t it? You loved Mary, and Mary loved you, Y/N. She loved you very much, and, quite frankly, I’d be extremely concerned if you weren’t upset about it! Don’t ever feel bad for crying, alright? Ever. You know John and I are always there to talk about it, or even just for a hug, if you ever want one. Okay?”

“… okay.” You had always felt bad about going to find one of them, especially John, when you were upset about Mary. You knew the doctor still thought about his wife every day, and you had made yourself believe that talking about her would only dig up unwanted memories. But, now that your brother had revealed both he and his best friend had been concerned about you not seeming upset about it, those worries vanished completely, and, in truth, you felt a lot better in yourself.

Sherlock smiled at you before gently releasing your chin and nodding slightly for you to continue. “I, um… I also often have nightmares about… well. About different things. Things that have happened to me in the past that frightened me, or made me feel unsafe…” You paused for a moment. “Sherlock… could you maybe… I don’t want to say what they are. Can you?”

The older Holmes nodded, not ceasing in rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. He looked at you for a moment or two. “You don’t get easily scared, so they must be something tragic, and something that has been lodged into your mind. I hate to name this as one, but I am assuming that me falling off the hospital roof was something tragic for you. Another, I am guessing, is Jim Moriarty. He was a threat to many people you care for, and I would be surprised to find you were not frightened of him. Am I correct?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Those two, and- and Mary’s death are mainly what my nightmares are about. All that you said about not being able to wake up properly because of the pills is true… I thought that maybe, if I stopped taking them, it would at least make it easier for me to wake myself up. Also, I had a small hope that the medication was possibly the cause of my nightmares, so if the tablets stopped, so would they… but it clearly wasn’t, seeing as they… seeing as they didn’t go away. So, yeah, I, um, I stopped sleeping. I’d struggle to keep my eyes open sometimes, and I’d find myself napping for a few moments, but I was always aware of my surroundings, and I was never deep enough in sleep to be able to have a bad dream… but right now? I’m exhausted, Sherlock. I know I have to take the tablets, and I know I have to sleep tonight, but I’m so, so scared. I don’t want to have another nightmare. I ca- I can’t.”

“If you don’t sleep soon, I fear you may have another migraine,” Sherlock told you softly. “Your brain is tired, I can tell you have a headache right this moment, and soon enough, your week of not sleeping is going to take a toll on you. You don’t have to be scared, Y/N. I promise you, I will always be right here. And so will John. We will both help you through this the best we can, even if it means I have to sleep with you for the rest of your life.”

You giggled quietly at that, though it wasn’t a completely horrible idea, in your opinion.

“I know how scared you must be; I’ve… well, let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of nightmares. But the way I get through it is talking to people. I’ve talked to John about it, I’ve talked to our parents about it, and I’ve even talked to Mycroft about it. They all listen, because I know they care about me. The amount of times I slept with our dear older brother in his bed when I was not much younger than you because I’d awoken from a bad dream…”

You couldn’t help your eyes widening slightly at that. You knew Sherlock had had nightmares before – all the best people did, for some odd reason – but you would never have thought he’d talk to people about them.

“I’ve always been afraid of talking to anyone about mine,” you admitted. “I suppose I’ve always felt like I’d be a nuisance to them… especially John, Sherlock. Are you sure he wouldn’t mind me talking to him about Mary?”

Sherlock smiled. “Y/N, John likes to talk about Mary. It may be upsetting for him, but he doesn’t want to lose sight of her. He wants to remember her, and he wants to keep her memory alive for Rosie. Don’t ever think you’d be a nuisance to either of us. Or anyone, for that matter! We want to support you. And trust me, if you think you’re going to get away with not receiving any help, you are completely wrong.”

He winked at you, and you smiled, snuggling closer into his side and breathing in the smell of… him. “You’re a great brother, by the way,” you said quietly, and the consulting detective cocked an eyebrow at you. “Earlier, when you said your little speech thingy, you said you weren’t the best older brother, and you often wondered if I’d be any different had I gone to live with Mycroft. As much as I love him, though, I can’t imagine not living with you. You’re the best older brothers I could ever ask for, you and Mycroft… I know I don’t always show that, but it’s true. You care for me more than anyone, and you’ve always kept me safe. I can be a brat, I know, and yet you still haven’t sent me away to live with Mycroft. You’ve stuck with me since the day I was born, so please don’t say you’re not a good brother, because you are.”

Sherlock didn’t know what to say to that. In all honesty, he was always worrying about you. Thoughts plagued him every day: ‘what if I’m not responsible enough to take care of her?’, ‘what if I’m not raising her right?’, ‘what if she isn’t safe with me?’ But, he would never in a million years let anyone take you away from him. Without saying a word, the man lowered his head and kissed your forehead, moving some stray strands of hair out of your face. “I love you very much, you know,” he said quietly, and you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. You had almost fallen asleep when he spoke up. “Would you mind terribly if I told Mycroft all we have discussed? The important parts, anyway. I think he needs to know these things so that he can help you too. He doesn’t need to speak to you about them, he just needs to keep them in mind when controlling how he feels about this whole situation.”

“It’s okay,” you said without hesitation, “you can tell him. I want him to know. And John, if you like… don’t want him to feel left out.”

Your brother smiled, before taking a deep breath and turning to look at the digital clock on your bedside table. Forty-seven minutes to five pm. “Right,” he said, “what do you say we take your medication now, and then have a little sleep before dinner? I really think you need to rest as soon as possible, Y/N, and if you take your pills now, then we can say you’ve already had them for tonight when Mycroft asks later. Won’t he be pleased, hm?”

You moved off him as he made to sit up, a million thoughts swirling around busily inside your head. Medication… medication meant sleep, and sleep meant nightmares.

“I don’t want to.” The words came out of your mouth without you even realising it, and you saw Sherlock turn around to look at you.

“Y/N Holmes,” he said, and you recognised the warning tone in his voice, “if you are telling me we have just talked for over half an hour about all this, and you are still going to refuse to take your pills, I will not be very happy.”

You stared up at your big brother with wide eyes. “What if they come back?” you asked in a small voice, and Sherlock’s face immediately fell. He moved over to you and cupped the side of your face, leaning in slightly to look at you closely.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “I promise you, I will be sleeping right next to you, okay? If they come back, I’ll chase them away, just like I did when you were a child, remember? Good. You’ll be right here, in my arms, and I promise I will not let you go. Just focus on sleeping, and try to think about all the happy things. Do you remember the time we went to that theme park when you turned fourteen, and we forced John on all the terrifying rides? Do you remember how much he screamed, but then asked us to go on them all again as soon as he got off?” He smiled at your breathy giggle. “Think about that. Think about the positives in your life, not the negatives. Do that for me, and I can be quite certain you’ll sleep soundly, alright? And, if you don’t, you know I’ll wake you.”

You nodded, feeling braver than you had been before. Sherlock rubbed his thumb against your cheek in a sign of comfort before moving again over to the other side of the bed and your bedside table. “Thinking about it, I don’t know myself why I’ve kept you,” he said nonchalantly, referring to what you’d said earlier as he picked up the box of tablets and popped two out, setting them on the wooden table, “you’re not the easiest child to take care of.” The wink he threw you over his shoulder assured you he was joking, and you decided to play along.

“Maybe I should just do you a favour and run away,” you said with a grin, watching Sherlock shrug.

“You wouldn’t get very far, believe me. If you only knew how much security Mycroft has in place for you…”

You giggled, stealthily and quietly crawling across the bed to where Sherlock was sitting. Once you reached him, a huge smile threatening to split your face, you raised your arms and pushed against his back, making him topple over and out of the bed. You couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably as he landed on his side on the floor, making loud noises of protest. You fell back on your bed and continued laughing, not even noticing as Sherlock slowly got up and turned to you, a mischievous glint in his bright eyes. “We were having a nice chat,” he said, tilting his head slightly – menacingly – as you faced him, “and you go and ruin it by pushing me off the bed. What fun.”

You’d heard him, but payed him no attention as you lay in a giggling heap on top of the duvet, the image of Sherlock falling off the bed replaying in your mind. Your brother smiled fondly, readjusting his shirt before leaping onto the bed and making you squeal when you jumped slightly. Sherlock lay next to you, supporting his head with one hand and raising an eyebrow as your giggles only continued. “Seeing as you wish to laugh at my expense,” he said, “how about I add some context?”

Before you had even registered the words, Sherlock had moved his hand and there were suddenly five fingers wiggling against your side. You squealed, body coming alive as you rolled over in an attempt to stop him. “Sheherlock!” You were already giggling, desperately trying to wrench his hand off your ticklish skin, but he wouldn’t let you; in one swift movement, your brother had rolled you over onto your back, grabbed your hands in his and pinned them above your head. He was still lying next to you, wearing a positively evil grin.

“Mhm, yes, little sister?”

“Plehease dohon’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“You knohow what!”

“Do I?”

“YeheHEHEHEHES! SHEHEHERLOHOCK!”

Your eyes squeezed shut as the man interrupted you, free hand again reaching down to tickle your stomach. The sudden feeling there made you shriek, and you couldn’t stop the happy smile which quickly graced your lips.

“There’s that smile,” Sherlock said warmly, fingers not relenting in their devious attack as they moved up to dig into your underarms, “I missed it.”

“STOHOHOHOP!”

“You love this. Don’t deny it.” The consulting detective shook his head slightly at the giggles which were currently pouring from your mouth. It had been no secret – to him, anyway – that you craved the attention. You’d been without it for a long time, having been wary of getting too close to him recently in case he realised you hadn’t been taking your pills. The fact that you’d pushed him off the bed had given him a perfect excuse to give you that attention, something he’d also craved. Looking down at your face and seeing the joyful tears shining in your bright eyes made him realize how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life – you made it so much less dull, so much less boring, and so much less lonely.

“SHER- SHERLOHOCK PLEHEAHASE!”

“Alright, alright.” Deciding you’d had enough for now, Sherlock released your arms and withdrew his hand, watching you curl up into a giggly ball, your own hands reaching around to absentmindedly rub away the tingly feelings still occupying your skin. You turned over to look at him, grinning at the fond smile on his face. That smile quickly dissolved as you let out a huge yawn, blinking away the tears which welled in your eyes.

“Tired?” Sherlock asked, pulling you closer to him.

You nodded, snuggling up to his side and grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Mhm.”

“Are you going to take your medication now?”

Another nod. Your brother felt pride fill his heart as he detected no hesitation. Kissing your tangled hair, he sat up slowly and reached over to pick up the two tablets he had left on the bedside table, and the glass of water you had filled earlier that morning. He handed the tablets to you after you’d sat up, smiling faintly as you popped them into your mouth before giving you the water. You swallowed them down, trying to ignore your pounding heart.

“That’s my girl,” Sherlock said. He placed the water back on the table before lifting the duvet covers up and motioning for you to crawl underneath. You felt as though you could fall asleep at any moment - the tickling had probably caused that - and so you did as you were told, eyes already drooping from exhaustion.

You immediately turned to him once you were lying down, reaching your arms out to him slightly. The man smiled, crawling in next to you and pulling you against his chest. “Try and get some sleep now, okay?”

You nodded, eyes half-closed as you held onto your brother’s arms, both of which were wrapped loosely around you. “Sherlock?” you suddenly whispered, and you felt your brother’s head move slightly.

“Mhm?”

“You know, the last time I had proper nightmares wasn’t when that man tried to get me…”

You could practically feel Sherlock’s eyes narrow in confusion. “It wasn’t?” he asked quietly, and you shook your head.

“When you jumped off the building… had loads of nightmares about that. Slept in Mycroft’s room a lot. Guess he didn’t tell you.”

Sherlock’s mouth opened slightly, but he found he didn’t know what to say. How had he not known? Why hadn’t he been told that their little sister had had nightmares so bad she’d had to sleep with Mycroft? And all because he’d pretended to be dead. “No,” he finally said, “he didn’t tell me.”

“Think he thought you’d start blaming yourself… you’re probably doing that now, aren’t you? Please don’t. You didn’t have any other choice… by faking your death, you saved me, and John, and Greg and Mrs Hudson… not your fault. Love you, Sherlock. Not your fault.”

Sherlock looked down at you, the sound of soft, even breaths immediately reaching his ears. It never ceased to amaze him how fast you could fall asleep. “I love you, too,” he said softly, resting his chin on your head. “Always.” He may not quite believe you when you insisted it wasn’t his fault, but if you thought that, then he’d learn to think it too. “Always.”

You were the first to wake, your eyes fluttering open. You silently stretched your arms out in front of you and blinked away the remaining tiredness, slowly becoming aware of another presence in the room. Glancing behind you, you saw the soundly sleeping face of Sherlock. The man’s arms were still wrapped around you, and you felt yourself wanting to stay in this position for as long as you could. Another yawn escaped your lips, and you realised you were still extremely tired. The short rest you’d had – which a quick glance to the alarm clock on your bedside table told you had only been two hours – had made you feel a little more rested, but there was still a lot of sleep for you to catch up on.

Sherlock had always been a light sleeper, and so it was no surprise when your movement made him furrow his eyebrows slightly in an adorable way and roll onto his stomach. “Whoever you are,” he said sleepily, “go away. Five more minutes.”

“Sherlock,” you giggled, “it’s seven pm.”

Sherlock’s eyes sluggishly opened, and he smiled at your face. “Oh. Hello,” he said, and you laughed, moving forward to snuggle up against him.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked, voice muffled slightly as you buried it in your brother’s shirt.

“Mhm. Did you?”

“Yep,” you told him, and he smiled wider at your obviously lighter mood. He tiredly pushed the covers off himself and moved into a sitting position, not protesting as you lay sideways and placed your head in his lap.

The both of you looked up as a soft knock sounded at your door, and it opened to reveal your eldest brother. Mycroft walked into the room, eyebrow raising at the position you were in. “I’ve come to check you’ve taken your medication, Y/N,” he said.

“She has,” Sherlock told him, reaching over and picking up the box of tablets. He tossed it to his brother, who caught it easily and proceeded to check that the right amount of pills were there. “Had to tickle her to get her to take them, but she has.”

Mycroft glanced up, eyes resting on you. “So, she takes them if you use that method?” he asked, to which Sherlock grinned and you groaned. He smiled. “Useful information, indeed.”

“Useful information that you will not be using,” you protested, sitting up and glaring at the man.

Mycroft threw the box on the bed, seemingly satisfied, and twirled his umbrella in his hand. “We shall see,” he said. “You are coming to stay at mine next week while Sherlock and John work on a case in Cornwall, yes?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not anymore!”

Mycroft chuckled, moving towards you. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms wide. Seeing he simply wanted a hug – he’d always ask for one if it was only you and Sherlock in the room – you smiled in defeat and crawled closer, sitting up on your knees and wrapping your arms around him.

“See that you take your medication, and I will not have to use such methods,” he said quietly into your ear, giving your ribs a sharp poke for good measure. You squealed, struggling in his grip, and Sherlock quickly moved forward to grab you out of Mycroft’s arms.

“I will save you, princess!” he said, holding you close to his chest, and Mycroft rolled his eyes, though a smile was ghosting his lips. He would never admit it, but seeing you and Sherlock play like this filled his heart with so much warmth and love.

“John would like you to know that dinner is ready,” he told you both, eyes narrowing as his phone bleeped and he took it out of his pocket. Rolling his eyes, he forcefully smiled apologetically at you both. “I have been gone for twenty minutes and already the Prime Minister is panicking. I’m sorry for the briefness of this visit,” he said, “but I’m going to have to leave.”

You stood up and gave your eldest brother a proper hug, smiling when he returned it. He looked over at Sherlock.

“I’ll text you later,” the consulting detective told him, giving him a knowing look which Mycroft understood very well. Giving you a kiss on the top of your head, the man turned and walked out the door.

You looked at Sherlock. “Wonder what John’s made.”

“Shall we find out?”

“Race you there!” you said excitedly, setting off and hearing the tell-tale thud as Sherlock jumped out of the bed and chased after you.

Things were back to normal. Sherlock slept with you for as long as you needed him to, and no nightmares haunted you while he was there. You took your medication every night, sometimes without Sherlock even reminding you to, and after a while of Mycroft visiting the flat to make sure you were taking the pills as you should, he decided he could trust you enough to continue to do so without him being there. Sherlock had told him everything, and he never brought the situation up again, knowing the reasons why you had stopped taking the medication and not wishing to make you upset. Mycroft knew, and that was enough. He had told you he was proud of you on multiple occasions, and you couldn’t be happier. Whenever you went to stay with him, he’d usually say goodnight to you and go to sleep in his own room, and then wake up with you asleep in his arms the next morning. He had no clue how it happened, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish for it to happen every night.

John was amazing, as per usual. If Sherlock was late home one night, you’d cuddle up to him on the sofa until he came back, often falling asleep and leaving the doctor to carry you into bed. Sometimes he’d rest with you, and Sherlock would come back to find you asleep in his arms. Other times, he’d sit by your bed, reading a book or doing something on his phone until your brother returned, knowing you didn’t like to be alone. He usually needed to get back for Rosie, however, so it was often the latter.

And Sherlock… Sherlock stayed the amazing big brother he was. He was constantly asking if you were alright, and he found himself taking you out for lunch most days, John almost always tagging along. Things were starting to become just how they had been before you’d stopped taking the medication, and, with the help of your friends and family, you were learning to cope with your nightmares. They were beginning to fade away and become nothing more than a memory. A bad memory at that, but a memory all the same. And every night, before you and Sherlock both went to sleep, your brother reminded you that he’d always be there, he’d always protect you, and he loved you more than anything.

And you would fall asleep in his arms, knowing it was the safest place you could ever be.

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misha176 · 1 year

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Simon Riley X Tall! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: I caved into this request even though I wasn’t accepting any but couldn’t help but get it done. I tried to give it batman and catwomen vibes but failed miserably. (￣∀￣) anyways, enjoy this shot that I didn’t really try my best on but did what I could to get the story going.

Request: Ghost X Tall! Male Reader that can speak Spanish (it's hella sexy) and tries to teach Ghost some too...

Warnings: Fluff, Spanish language, flirting, masked reader, tall reader, missions, hacker, pas memories, learning, ghost falls for reader, mentions of Alejandro’s past, language, semi short shot, code name: rouge.

Word count: 3.2k

Tags: @guardkeywolf

Laswell had a mission for the a team, fairly simple but also risky. She thought the process would be a lot faster than she thought but instead took notice that the mission she needed to complete was going to be a lot harder than she thought and needed all the help that she could get. She didn’t need strong men but intelligence and the last intelligent person they had was Graves until the betrayal. His skills would’ve come in handy if he didn’t betray them along with Shepard. She instead had to look for an alternate route, one that she felt hesitant to use.

When she arrived in base she was able to get everyone to meet her, standing around a table as the gives everyone a nod of greeting before starting. “Thank you for accepting my offer, I’ve been tracking down Finch for years and had a hard time tracking him until now.” She holds out a folder and sets it in front of everyone, opening and showing them a picture of their target. “Finch operates in Money Laundering. He’s in charge of cleaning the money in order for it to be used and harder to trace.” She explains, setting out the file. “He helps big leaders, gangs, drug dealers, cartels—whoever the hell he can get in contact with, he will work for them. If we can get him then we can get all the intel that we need from people he might know. Target must come back alive.” Her last weird date stern and serious, she couldn’t lose this man nor can she risk getting him killed.

“Very well,” Price is the first to speak up. “How do you want to do this?”

Laswell nods. “Finch will be arriving to a casino in Las Vegas—good place to deal with money when their are so many people around gambling for it. You’ll all need to be undercover, blend in with the crowd and find a way to keep his guards away from him.” She explains, pointing at a few pictures of Finch’s guards that followed him everywhere he went. “Here’s the tricky part, he has total control of surveillance. If he takes notice of anything then it’s over for us.”

“So, how do we get through without getting caught by cameras?” Soap is the one to ask this time, raising a brow at her as she softly grins at the man. “I know someone who can help us.” She digs into her bag and pulls out another folder, showing the boys before sliding it over to Price first, who takes the folder and reads through it.

“He goes by Rouge—slippery bastard but will help us. He’s a hacker, can easily slip in out of anything.” She stands up straight and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them carefully, passing the folder to each other as they read through the information and background. “He first hacked into the pentagon at the age of twelve, later at the age of fourteen he would hack into many wealthy companies and steal their personal information along with selling it. The kid got 5 companies to file for bankruptcy and nearly a hundred people were arrested for illegal information.”

Ghost takes the file next, eyes scanning the information as they land on a small picture clicked on the corner, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the other man’s features. Before he could hand the folder back to Laswell she speaks up fast. “Ghost, your mission is to keep a close eye on him and to protect him at all costs.” She refers to the hacker.

Ghost grunts, setting the folder down on the table. “Does he know how to use a gun?” He wants to make sure that the kid could at least defend himself or know how to fight. “He can handle a gun.” Laswell smiles back at ghost before she looks at everyone else. “Very well, he will be arriving tomorrow. Be prepared.” She instructed before giving them one last nod and leaving the room, giving them time to get ready for their new mission.

—

Simon wasn’t too happy that he’d have to sit back and take care of a new recruit. He wasn’t one to babysit rookies but Laswell had pulled him aside after their meeting and told him that their hacker was a slippery one and loved to escape their grip. The kid was smart and could easily steal millions without anyone noticing. Simon questioned himself as to why they haven’t arrested the rookie or perhaps kept a close eye on him? He wasn’t given a reason and he’d rather not ask why. Simon stayed back at base to wait for the hackers arrival while the others got ready, it was until Soap came out to join him when he asked. “Think the new guy knows what he’s doing?”

Simon sighs deeply and shrugs. “Not sure, let’s hope he doesn’t mess up our mission.” He wouldn’t want to deal with the rookies mess if he were to create one for himself. Both him and Soap watched as a plane comes down, landing near them as the two stood back and watched, the door slide open. The first thing the two men took notice of their new teammate was his height, he was around the same height as ghost, perhaps slightly taller by a few inches but he didn’t seem too intimidate. In fact, the new rookie wore all black with a case in hand, grinning at the two as he approached them. “Gentleman.” His voice was soft but also filled with a teasing tone, ghost knew he wasn’t going to like him.

Soap was the first to speak up. “Good to see ya! I’m soap, you’re the one they call rouge?” He questions. While the other nods. “Some call me Rouge others call me Fox.” He suddenly says, giving soaps hand a shake and eyeing Ghost up and down before focusing back to soap. “Fox?”

“You’ll know when you see my work.” Rouge answers, hand on his hip as he looks over his shoulder to see the other team members exiting the building. The first thing rouge does when the rest of the group approaches is pull Alejandro into a hug while the other laughs and slaps his hand against his shoulder. “Look at you! Portándote bien?”

“Como no?”

The two laugh at each other before pulling away. Simon glanced at the two, obviously knowing that the two had some sort of connection to each other but what surprised ghost the most was that the rookie spoke Spanish. He didn’t sound like he was learning, more like he was raised with it as a slight accent is hard in his words.

“It’s been too long, causing trouble again?” Alejandro added while Y/n smiles widely at his old friend. “I’m always causing trouble, because of my trouble I’m here to help you boys. Laswell caught me up on everything and thinks I can help with getting your guy.” He waves his case around, showing them his tools. “Good, we need someone like you.” Alejandro chuckles, giving the other a large smile.

“Good, now.” Price speaks up from the group. “Laswell already gave us the plans, let’s get ready and start heading out. Ghost—you and rouge should head down to the casino first, get in and find a safe place to stay hidden while Rouge does his own magic.”

Rouge smirks. “Si, Señor.”

That gets everyone moving, separating into different vehicles that they plan to take to Vegas. Rouge follows ghost towards their own car, getting up front as he sets his case on his lap, smiling softly to himself as ghost sighs deeply. “Let’s get this done quickly.” He states, starting the car up and driving away from base while Rouge opens his case and pulls out his laptop.

He flips it open and tries away, chewing on his lip as he focused on getting through the building and perhaps a map of the building. Ghost would glance over to him every few seconds before asking. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking for a blind spot.” He mutters out, tilting his head to the side. “Hm, the bathroom is one but it’ll be too crowded—too many people will come and go. Perhaps the security room?”

“Too dangerous—we can’t get anyone else involved into our mission.”

“Fine.” He continues to check for any other blind spots, scanning the floor and frowning. “We can do the roof.” He points out. “There’s a skylight on the casino, big enough for us to stay hidden and no cameras up there. If their are guards then we simply take them down and I’ll be able to work on peace. No one will get in our way and I have a clear view of the floor below me.” He explains, showing Ghost his laptop and an image of the skylight.

Ghost only gives it a glance before agreeing to the idea. The other man smiles softly and returns back to typing as he checks for any other alternates in case the skylight doesn’t, jumping softly to himself as he mumbled under his breath. “Todavía no.” He sighs to himself before closing his laptop and slipping it back inside the case. Ghost side eyes him before focusing back on the road, his hand gripping the steering wheel and asks.

“How do you and Alejandro know each other?”

Rouge hums. “Oh? Estas curioso?” He raises a brow.

“No.”

Rouge laughs at his response, throwing his head back and smiling widely. “I helped me with some personal matters, we tend to get in debt with each other.” He doesn’t provide much detail about their relationship, keeping it a secret from him. He didn’t need to tell Ghost further details about his own personal life, it was dangerous and could get him caught if he were to do anything that was considered illegal. He’d rather be safe and not spread too much information about himself which is why his file was so small when Laswell presented it to the boys, only giving his code name along with his skills. The rest was either a mystery to everyone or perhaps a lie in order to keep his identity hidden.

“I’m guessing this personal matter was something illegal.” Ghost decides to speak up again, pulling rouge out of his thoughts as he turns to face the other. He shakes his head in response to ghosts statement. “It wasn’t bad, I was simply helping a friend.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Alejandro did teach me a few things—“ he laughs. “His mother taught me Spanish, she’d force me to speak it when I’m around her and I learned to speak it fluently. She’d also get pissed when Alejandro taught me how to swear around her.” It was a fond memory that he treasured. The sound of an elderly women cussing out her son as she waved a wooden spoon while chasing him around. The women may be old in age but she still had some stamina in her when it came towards disciplining her children.

“I’m trying to learn—been getting dragged around a lot in Mexico and had grown to the language.” Ghost admits.

This gets rouges attention. “Really? Perhaps I can teach you along the way.” He offers, sitting up in his seat and thinks. “You can understand it?”

“A little.”

“Perfect, how about I just speak it every once an awhile before switching back to English. I heard that it helps.”

Ghost thinks about the idea before agreeing with the other man. He’s been around the others for awhile that he’s grown to know a few Spanish words that were repeated around frequently. He understands the language but can’t speak it. In truth, he only asked to learn since he enjoyed the sound of the other man’s voice whenever he spoke the language, soft and seductive and it lured ghost to the man.

“Muy bien—“ Rouge checks the watch on his wrist. “En dos horas llegamos a Las Vegas. Once we get there I’ll make sure that we get inside undetected and onto the roof while the others get ready for tonight.” Rouge had seen the others disguise and how they had to blend in with the other guards or as civilians who were coming in to gamble while both he and ghost remained on the roof.

“You don’t wear a vest.” Ghost suddenly points out since he was wearing all black and some leather gloves sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t need it, el disfraz que yo tengo puesto es suficiente.” Rouge blended well in the shadows, staying hidden from the publics eyes. He could get the job done and escape without leaving a trace of himself behind. He made sure to make no mistakes when on the job.

—

When they arrived to the casino they made sure to park in the back, waiting quietly as they watched the others enter the casino. The streets of Vegas were full, everyone either drinking or spending their money while they gamble. Rouge wasn’t one for parties but he didn’t mind gambling for some money or just taking money from the rich.

Looking through his scope he watched as the group got inside, signaling that it was there turn to move. Rouge puts his scope away and turns to ghost. “Listo?” He asks and gets a nod in response. Rouge grins, slipping on his own face mask to cover up the bottom half of his face, holding his case close as the two step out of the car and into the dark alleyways. The streets were dark and everyone was too intoxicated to take notice of the two of them as they climbed onto the roof top.

Rouge is the first to reach the top, hiding in the dark as he checks for any guards. “Esta seguro.” He whispers to ghost who followed after him. The two moving low and quiet as they reach the skylight, below them is the casino and gives them both a good view of the entire place. He smiles under his own mask and turns to ghost, leaning close to the other man as he whispers near his ear.

“Keep an eye out, yo hago lo demás.”

His words cause a shiver to run down ghosts spine as he watched Rouge sit near the skylight and open his case, pulling out his laptop and hacking into security. “Child’s play.” Rouge scoffs, easily getting into the security and getting access to all cameras and security numbers. “Ya entre.” He shows his laptop to ghost, showing him the surveillance footage.

Ghost raised his brows, impressed by his work. “Didn’t think it would be that easy.”

“no siempre es fácil.”

Ghost holds his gun in hand, ready for anything. “Para ti si es.” His Spanish is a little choppy and with a hint of his accent. His sudden words surprise Rouge who's eyes widen as he chuckles, clapping his hands twice. “Mirate! Ya andas aprendiendo, mi fantasma.”

Ghosts face heats up at his last words. He coughs and clears his throat, focusing back on the mission as Rouge worked on the cameras. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and focused on the computer in-front of him. “You know—this guy your getting why not get him when he’s alone? He’s been around many places without guards but you pick the casino out of all places.”

“We need to make sure that we catch him in the act when he launders money. Who knows what else he’s doing.”

Rouge frowns deeply under his mask. “Yeah, who knows.” His eyes cast down, staring down at the casino and watched people gamble. He watched the rich gamble away their money that they had no need for. He’s seen the way they’ve handled their money, too much to us that instead of giving it to those in need they become selfish and keep it for themselves. He sighs deeply and turns back to the cameras and takes notice of their target while the boys made a move to get him. Rouge sets his laptop to the side and comes to a stand, getting ghosts attention. “Mi haces un favor?”

“What is it?”

Rouge moves past him, going around the skylight. “Can you stand here and keep an eye from here? I took notice of a few escape routes for our target and in case he takes one I want to make sure that you take notice.”

“Wouldn’t the cameras show you?”

“Their blind spots and I wouldn’t be able to see.” He responds back and watched as ghost walks over to him, standing in a new area while rouge grins under his mask. “Gracias.” He stood close to ghost as he whispered his gratitude to him. Ghost tries to focus on his task while Rouge goes back to his laptop on the other side of the skylight, picking it up and typing away as he listens to the comms.

He looks down below at the casino. “And…lights out.” He pressed a key on his laptop as the lights go dark and the room goes into chaos as everyone panics while the guards grow cautious of the lights going out. Their comms go off while ghost grows confused.

“Soap, do you copy? What’s going on down there!” He shouts into his comm but gets no response, he can hear them but they can’t hear him. “What—?” He looks up to see rouge by the edge of the roof, mask removed as he gives ghost a Cheshire grin. “Adois, mi fantasma.” He gives him a wink and jumps off the building, disappearing into the crowded streets blow a ghost cursed under his breath.

He checks his vest to see that his comm was turned off, he’d thought he had it one this whole time. He’s quick to turn the comms back on and quickly gets in touch with the others.

“Ghost, how copy? Dammit ghost are you there?” He hears Soap call for him.

He turns to his comm and glared, before he can respond back the lights are back on in the casino. He growls in anger. “Copy, rouge escaped.” Laswell had warned him.

“Hijo de puta.” He hears Alejandro sigh out in frustration through the comms. “Did we get finch?” Ghost asks the real important question, wanting to make sure that their target was alive.

“No, he escaped.” Said Soap.

Ghost huffs angrily, making his way towards the edge of the roof and to make his way down. Once he reaches the bottom of the steps he finds the car still in the same place, meaning that rouge had escaped by foot. He walks up to the car and pulls the door open, supposed to see Finch tied up and gagged on the passenger seat. The man is unconscious and with a note stuck to its forehead.

Ghost rounds the car and opens the door, removing the note and reading it to himself.

“Para mi fantasma.”

Ghost laughs, shaking his head as he comms the others and let’s them know that their target was secure and alive. He ignored their questions of disbelief through the comms and focused back on the note in his gloved hand. “Fucking hell.”

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misha176 · 2 years

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Reblog if your blog is a safe space for these identities: agender, demiboy, demigirl, genderfluid, non-binary, and transgender!

35K notes · View notes

misha176 · 2 years

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Steven Grant X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors Note: This shot goes along with the Sugar daddy series that I wrote for Steven grant! I haven’t been feeling well the last few days but getting better now and decided to write this shot because I was rewatching moonknight and re-read the sugar daddy AU I wrote. 😊

Summary: Steven hasn’t heard from the reader in weeks due to his busy schedule. Once he returns back from his work trip he pays him a visit only to find the reader sick and alone.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of Anubis, mentions of Marc, Steven being a good boyfriend, kissing, cuddling, Anpu, shifting forms.

Word count: 2.3k

Steven hadn’t seen Y/n at the museum for days, knowing that he was busy with other business meetings. Steven was told ahead of time that Y/n wouldn’t be around for a few weeks due to his busy schedule, Steven didn’t mind. He knew now busy the business man was and didn’t allow himself to be worried or feel like he was being neglected in the relationship. So, he continued life and work normally and doing what he usually does until he received a text from Y/n, letting Steven know that he would be returning back home in three days.

Steven had grown a little excited inside, ignoring Marc’s teasing voice as he thought about what they could do together when Y/n returns. Perhaps visit another museum or go on a simple date? Steven waited until the day he returned only to receive another text from his significant other that he wouldn’t be able to see Steven for another few days, giving no reason as too why. The tour guide was growing worried and concerned for Y/n. He knows that he shouldn’t pry into Y/n’s business nor worry to much about it but he couldn’t help it, growing curious as to why.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Steven blurts out as he stood in front of Y/n’s home, staring at the door with a copy of his key in hand.

Y/n had given Steven a copy of his key, welcoming him into his home and letting him know that he could come by whenever. Steven never used the key nor did he ever visit his home without permission, afraid that he could get into some trouble or see something he shouldn’t. And yet, here he stood. Marc had convinced him to check up on Y/n to see what was going on and what he could do to help.

Steven fiddled with the key in his hand, anxiously glancing at the door as he thinks. “If Y/n isn’t able to visit it’s probably because he is busy.” Steven tried to reason with Marc but his other half only nudged him further.

“Busy? What if it’s something else?” Marc questions as Steven frowns, staring at his reflection on the covered up windows. “If you think he’s cheating then you are wrong, Y/n would never do something like that.” Steven is quick to defend him, glaring at his reflection. Both he and Y/n have a healthy relationship and not once had Y/n done something or said anything that’ll hurt Steven or hint out that he no longer wanted to be with him. The two were happy together and loved their dates they had every weekend.

Steven sighs deeply, cursing under his breath as he moves forward, key slipping into the lock and unlocking the door. He nervously opens the door, sticking his head inside as he peaks around. “Hello?” He curiously says, stepping inside the house even further. In all honestly, it was Stevens first time inside Y/n’s home. Due to him traveling a lot and busy with work they mainly spent time in Stevens flat or out in some nice diner. So, his first time entering felt strange like he was intruding his privacy.

As he closed the door behind him he gives himself some time to take in the interior. The place was quiet large and open, enough to fit a good family. Steven steps forward nervously as he continued to look around, spotting the kitchen and living room but no signs of Y/n. Perhaps Y/n was still out of the country and hasn’t returned yet, he shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see any sign—“ when he turns around he froze in spot at the sight of a Doberman standing near the entrance, watching him closely as Steven gaps. “Hello.” He mumbled to the dog, gripping the strap of his bag tight as he takes two cautious steps back.

The Doberman approaches him, startling Steven a little as Marc nudged inside of him.

“Easy Steven, remember when Y/n told you that he owned a dog? Just relax and stay calm.” Marc reassured Steven as the dog moves closer, sniffing his hands and legs before taking Stevens bag into his mouth and pulling him forward.

“Whoa—! Easy.” Steven stumbled forward as the Doberman pulls again, whining as he lets go and steps over to the stairs, turning to look over at Steven as if guiding him upstairs. Steven frowns a little, following after the dog leading him up the stairs until he finds him waiting by an open bedroom door.

“What is it?” He questions, following him again and entering the room to find Y/n sleeping in bed, hiding underneath the covers. His nightstand was filled with some medicine and tissues, clothes scattered everywhere in a messy manner. The large dog jumps on the bed, startling Y/n awake as he groans to himself. “Anpu…” he moans out.

Right, Y/n had named his dog after the god of death, Anubis or Anpu. Steven feels himself relax, slipping his bag off and setting it on an empty chair and approached the bed. “Y/n?” He whispers softly as the other groans, looking over to his left as he squinted his eyes, taking Steven in as he gives him a small smile. “Steven—wait, what are you doing here?” He suddenly y questions, growing confused. His head is foggy and his body is warm, fever still setting in as he slowly comes to sit up.

“I wanted to check up on you.” Said Steven. “Let’s just say that I haven’t seen you in weeks.” He chuckled out nervously as Y/n huffs out a small laugh, sitting against his headboard as he lied his head back. “You should be back home, Steven. I don’t want to get you sick.” He sniffles, groaning at the headaches and pain.

Anpu whimpered next to him, the god growing worried for their avatar even though Y/n had already explained to the god that it’s normal for humans to get sick during season change. “I’ll be fine.” He reminds Anubis, giving the dog a small pat on the head as Steven smiles a little. “For a second I thought he was going to attack me—forgot that you had a dog.”

Y/n chuckles. “Nah, Anpu wouldn’t hurt anyone unless given a good reason too.” He smiles up to Steven. “Shouldn’t you be working?” He asks.

Steven blushed a little. “Called in sick for the first time, was worried for you.” He admits to the millionaire as the others smile widens. “Thanks Steven, but I’m doing fine. I just need some rest and I’ll be good again.”

“Are you insane?” Steven cuts in, shaking his head as he takes in his lovers state. “You need proper food and a shower too—no offense love, but you smell terrible.” His nose scrunched up as Y/n pouts, lifting his shirt to give it a soft sniff before groaning. “You’re right. I’ll take a quick shower.” As he removed the covers from his body he tries to stand only to stumble back, causing Steven to reach out and grab him by the arms. “I’ll walk you.” Steven offers, holding Y/n’s arms as he guides him to the wash room where Y/n sits on the toilet seat, head dizzy as he lazily removes his clothes, tossing them aside as Steven turned on the shower.

“You wash up and I’ll get you something to eat and clean up your room a bit.” Steven instructs, collecting the dirty clothes and leaving him alone in the washroom. Once he closed the door behind him he lets out a deep sigh, looking down to see Anpu sitting in front of him.

“Why don’t we clean up the place a little?” He says to the dog as Anpu huffs out, moving around the room and picking up the discarded clothes and bringing them to Steven. “Oh, you are very well trained.” He smiles and takes the clothes, the two cleaning up the place as Y/n showers. Steven finished picking up the clothes and changing the bedsheets, he also makes sure that the room felt less stuffy. It’s been awhile since he’s last taken care of someone, he’s usually by himself in his apartment before he started dating Y/n and now that he has someone he didn’t expect himself to be doing things like this for someone else.

Steven spent some time in the kitchen making proper food that will help with Y/n’s sickness. He takes the food back to the bedroom where he sees Y/n standing near his closet, towel around his waist as the water in his hair dropped down his face and shoulders, exposed to Steven.

“Oh.” Stevens face heats up, staring at his boyfriends exposed chest as he takes him in, breath hitching when he noticed the smirk on Y/n’s face. “See something you like?” He raises a teasing brow.

“Maybe.” Steven responds back and sets the food to the side. “But, you are sick and you’ll get even worse if you don’t properly dry yourself.” He takes another towel from the washroom, stepping out and approaching him with the dry towel. He drapes it over his head and towels out his hair, Y/n lowering his head for easier access as Steven continued.

Once Steven is finished he lets Y/n change into some fresh clothes and crawl back into bed where he is offered food. He’s sitting up again and eating at his own pace, nose still runny as he sniffles and grabs some tissues.

“I found better medicine that will help.” Steven rounds the bed, sitting next to him as he offers him the pills and a glass of water. Y/n takes the pills quickly before setting the glass on his bedside. Anpu had already crawled on to his bed, lying down next to him as Y/n chuckles, fingers touching the dogs ears. “Anpu, your a god—you shouldn’t be too worried for me.” He groggily says, the drugs taking affect.

Steven doesn’t take his words seriously, perhaps confusing the dog with the actual god of death. “He’s gonna be like this for awhile.” He mumbled to himself as he watched Y/n speaks to the dog.

“Damn, we won’t be able to finish our duties today.” Y/n groans, lying down on his side, facing the dog who silently watched him. ��Don’t worry I’ll make it up to you, I always do.” He gives Anpu one last pat on the head before slowly passing out.

Steven hums to himself, standing from his spot on the bed to pull the covers higher and over his shoulder. “I think he’ll be good tonight.”

“You think so?” Steven hears Marc ask. “Of course.” Steven gives Y/n a glance before leaving the room. The sun was setting and bed have to head back to his flat soon, but Steven didn’t feel comfortable leaving him alone. Instead of taking his things and leaving he instead decides to stay, claiming the couch as his spot to sleep. He makes sure to clean up the kitchen and check up on Y/n one last time before taking an extra blanket and pillow and getting the couch comfortable for himself to sleep on.

“Why not join, Y/n?”

“I don’t want to bother him and besides he’s sick and needs the space.” Steven responds to Marc. “Also, Anpu is taking up half of the space.” He murmured out, hearing Marc’s laugh as he lied down on the couch, rolling his eyes and closing them as he tries his best to sleep.

The next morning, y/n awakens with his headaches gone but fever still set in a little. It wasn’t a lot to the point where he couldn’t move, he could still move around and do a few things without forcing his body to over due the work. When he steps downstairs and into the living room to find Steven asleep on the couch he can’t help but smile a little. He didn’t think the other man would have stayed the night, thinking that he’d be afraid to miss work.

Perhaps he was abusing the advantage of skipping work due to him dating the boss.

He leans forward, fingers pushing some curly strands from Stevens face as he smiles at him.

“I should really learn something about this relationship you two have.” Y/n hears Anpu say. The god had taken his true form, standing next to him with staff in hand. “It takes time to learn, didn’t you love someone once?” He asks the god, gaze still focused on Steven as he slept.

“Once.” The god of death responds back as his own dark eyes shift to Steven and y/n. Out of all the avatars he’s had in the past years, Y/n was in fact his favorite, he saw more of the human life when he was with him when his previous holders rejected his offer or gave up on being his avatar. Y/n had stayed the longest, proving to the god that he could do the work without any complaints.

Anubis hums to himself. “Rest well, my avatar. You’re health still needs healing.” He tells his avatar and takes the form of a dog again, giving Y/n once last look before leaving the couple and heading back upstairs.

Y/n stroked his hair and leans down to kiss his temple, whispering soft loving words to him before coming to a stand, making his way towards the kitchen where he is to start making breakfast for the two of them.

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misha176 · 2 years

Text

— Drisson — || TWO ||

Lord Morpheus x Autistic Male Reader ( Modern AU )

|| Masterlist || ONE ||

Authors Note: Finally another part of this series completed! Slowly the good drama and angst will happen in the next chapter along with some gentleman Morpheus and slight possessive of the reader during family meetings.

Summary: Reader works for Morpheus Dream, assistant of The Dreaming company that makes medicine for people who suffer with sleep. He is the assistant of Dream who helps him out in any way possible until his family sends a wedding invention. His little sister is to be getting married and forcing him to bring a date when he doesn’t have one. Dream decides to join him to this wedding and fake their way through it.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, modern AU, desire and death have different names, endless children, mentions of autism, sighs of autism, Morpheus is a gentleman, humor, language, weddings, fake dating trope, slow burn-ish, mentions of Lucifer, company issues, slight possessive Dream, trauma, hopeless romantic, sign language.

Word count: 4.1k

—

The flight to France took some time, waiting patiently by the gate as they sat from a distance of the crowd gathering around. Y/n had insisted on purchasing tickets for economy but Morpheus had already purchased them first class tickets in a much more secure and less crowded area where they can be at peace.

Y/n wasn’t a big fan of flying but somehow found ways to manage it. He’d brought noose cancelling headphones to keep himself distracted from the loud engine noise, listening to the music during the flight as he sat next to Morpheus, his boss sat next to the aisle with a book in hand, reading away the hours that the flight took. After the fifth hour, Y/n had finished watching a few movies and had gone through his whole list of music, growing irritated by the long wait. He could try to sleep but didn’t feel comfortable sleeping yet, he still had some energy and didn’t know what to do with it.

It didn’t take long for Morpheus to notice his fidgeting, distracting him from his own reading as he sighs deeply, brows pinching together as he closed his book and turns to Y/n. He lightly taps his index finger against the palm of his hand, startling the other to face him. Once his attention is on Morpheus his boss began to sign.

“You’re moving too much.” He signed.

Y/n grumbled. “I’m bored and I don’t know what else to do.” He mumbled out, loud enough for morpheus to hear. While his own boss chuckles faintly to himself, leaning back in his own seat, book in hand as he offers it to him. Y/n glanced down at the book, frowning as he takes it into his own hands, reading the cover silently and turning back to Morpheus. “You’re reading it.”

“And I want you to read it now.” Morpheus signed.

“But you’re not done.”

“I’ve read it many times, one of my favorites actually.”

Y/n looks back at the book, fingers tracing the printed words as he flips the book open. He takes notice of the clean white pages, no folded corners or damaged bindings. “How long have you had this book?” He blurts out, getting Morpheus attention.

“A few years—Lucienne takes care of the books.”

That explained a lot for him, Lucienne was the only one who kept the books clean and organized. She always busted the shelves and made sure that they were in order from the year they were published and not by author, she was unique in her own way and very strict when it came towards her books. Not only did she take care of the books but also important documents that helped the company flourish, providing the necessary information to Morpheus or anyone that needed it.

He admired Luciennes hard work and dedication to the company, if it wasn’t for her he wouldn’t have gotten the job as Morpheus assistant. He didn’t think he’d get the position when he was interviewed by Lucienne, afraid that she’d find his actions strange and different but after the interview she hired him on the spot and urged him to start the next day, after that he grew used to Morpheus and everyone else in the company.

“You should have brought Matthew.” He suddenly blurts out, remembering the black Maine coon cat that Morpheus allowed to bring to his office.

“You knew he’d be a handful, Lucienne is keeping a close eye on him and besides. He’s a great help in her department.” Morpheus signs, leaning back in his seat as he sighed deeply.

Matthew was a very clever cat, never causing a fuss and always doing as told. There was a time that he brought him Morpheus’ paperwork and dropped it on his desk before walking away with his tail up high, filled with pride. Y/n smiles at the memory, enjoying the cats company. Matthew warmed up to him and would always follow him around and if the large cat allowed him he’d let him pet his head or play with his tail. His fur was always soft and he loved the texture and softness.

“Shame, it would have been nice to have him here.” Y/n pouts, closing the book and handing it back to Morpheus, not really in the mood for some reading. He just wanted to stretch his legs and do something else but sit in a plane for hours. Unfortunately, that was something he was unable to do until they landed which was another nine hours.

Morpheus takes notice of this, smiling a little as he decides to ask him about his family, perhaps keep him distracted for the next hour or two. “You’re family, what are they like?” He signed, getting the others attention as Y/n thinks. “My parents are bakers, they own their own little shop around the corner downtown, you’ll know when your close to their shop when you start to smell their amazing chocolate bread from two blocks.” He chuckles. “They started their own company when they got married and then they had my older brother.” He thinks back to the first time he helped his parents bake cookies, combining the ingredients together and getting his hands and clothes dirty, he didn’t mind the mess he actually enjoyed it. It showed that he was a hard worker and was willing to get his hands dirty.

“After I was born they had my sister three years later. You could say that she’s the opposite of me.”

“What makes her opposite?” Morpheus questions.

“She’s loud, very messy but tries her best to be cleans, almost burned the shop down when we were left in charge for the first time. Mom and dad were not happy.” He noticed Morpheus laugh at the idea of the two siblings nearly burning down a family business. “She’s very chaotic and protective, she’ll lower your self esteem for life.” His voice grows into a warning and to not mess with his sister. She may look sweet and innocent in the outside but deep inside she was a monster who wasn’t afraid to strike.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Morpheus had dealt with worse people, it’ll be nothing to him. “Anymore siblings?”

“My older brother, he’s very creative and loves making things.” Y/n’s voice is full of pride and love. “Do you remember Miss Tanner and how she was pregnant and you’re family gave her gifts for the baby and herself?” He questions as Morpheus thinks back to that day, nodding in returning. “Remember that stuff elephant I gave her?”

“Yes.”

“My brother made it.”

“Really?”

Y/n nods with a smile. “I told him about her pregnancy before she left for her maternity leave and he spent his time making the elephant, sending it to me and telling me to give it to her as a small gift for her baby.” His brother was closed off and shy, being bullied for his own talents and gifts that he kept his work a secret from everyone. The first time he found out about his work his brother thought that he’d laugh at him but instead he praised his work and encouraged his brother to start a small business. Instead his brother started selling the toys he made in the bakery whenever children came to buy some sweets, taking notice of the toys and falling in love with his creations.

Him and his family supported his brothers work and encouraged him to show it to the world without feeling shame. Now that he’s older he’s able to continue on with his work without feeling embarrassed or ashamed of his own work.

“He is talented.” Signed Morpheus.

“It’s been his dream to make children smile, even though he’s still a kid himself he’s much better bonding with children then with adults.” Y/n shrugs his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest and curling up into himself.

“You speak so highly of your family and yet you avoid them.”

Y/n’s small smile fades, hands tightening into fist, gripping the sleeves of his jacket that he wore.

“Can I ask why?”

He gives Morpheus a glance, the other man raising a brow in questioning. Curious to know, why he avoided his family and why he tried to find an excuse to avoid this wedding ceremony that he is to attend.

Y/n squirms in his seat. “I felt sheltered.” He mumbled. “After my parents found out about my conditions they grew protective and cautious around me and rarely let me do things alone. When they found out that I was leaving the country and into a whole other world they were agonized, afraid that something bad will happen to me or that I wouldn’t know what to do.” He explains. “It got me frustrated and left…honestly I was scared when I arrived here, not knowing what I was doing and I grew afraid.”

He sighs, fumbling fingers as he continues. “I was close to returning back home until I found out that this was my life and it was going to scary and challenging and had to accept it and move through it whether I liked it or not. So, I accepted fate and pushed forward and here I am.” He gestured to himself and then to Morpheus.

“Who would have thought that I’d be working for a multi millionaire company and becoming your assistant.”

Morpheus huffs out a smile, hands on his lap with his head tilted to the side. His dark hair is messy but somehow it looked well and didn’t give off a dirty look. “You confronted your fear and here you are—do you fear of seeing them again?” His question throws Y/n off, never thinking about it that way. “Not really, I’m only nervous as to what they’ll think if they find out I don’t have a date.” He chuckles nervously.

“Am I coming for nothing?” Morpheus asks with a raised brow, teasing the other as Y/n continued to laugh quietly, keeping himself from waking up any of the other passengers. “You put yourself in this situation and there’s no turning back.” He warns.

“I like a challenge.” Morpheus signs again, earning another grin from the other as the two sit in silence, enjoying their last few hours together by trying to get some sleep or continue watching films.

—

When their plane lands in France they are quick to get through security and collecting their things. Y/n had put away his headphones and focused on his phone, searching up the address for they hotel booked for the week. “I got the address we just need a ride there.” He explains to Morpheus, showing him his phone.

“Very well, shall we?”

“We shall!” Y/n had a small bounce in his step, excited to head to their hotel and perhaps get cleaned up and get some comfortable sleep. His back was hurting from the uncomfortable seats he had to sit on for the last fourteen hours, he couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and throw himself in bed and sleep away the rest of the day.

“We just have to head through here and we should have tra—“ Y/n’s words are cut off when another body slams into him, arms wrapped around his neck as he stumbled back in his step, nearly losing balance but regaining himself. The wind is knocked out of him, confused he looks down to see a familiar face staring up at him with a wide smile.

“What—how—?”

“I tracked your flight.” His sister blurts out, giving him another squeeze and letting him go. Y/n straightens himself and gives his sister a long hard stare. “I didn’t tell you I was coming today.”

“Please, I know everything.” His sister grins wickedly, frightening him a little. His sister is younger than him by three years but her menacing acts always surprised him.

“You alright?” Morpheus sudden voice cutting in gets the siblings attention. His sisters gaze falls onto his boss, eyes widening as she takes notice of the man standing before her, helping her brother with his luggage. “You’re Mr. Dream from The Dreaming!” She points out, staring in shock as Y/n winced at her loud voice.

“Please lower your voice.” He tells her, waving his hand in her direction as he tried to calm her down. “Why is he here? Don’t tell me you’ll be working during my wedding!” She glared at him, upset that he’d do such a thing.

“No, of course not! He’s—“

“I’m his date.” Morpheus cuts in, face stoic as he stares down at his sister. “Y/n wanted to go alone to this wedding but convinced him to allow me to join.” Without asking, Morpheus snaked his arm around his waist, pulling Y/n close by the hip as he squeaks in surprise. “We've been far to busy with the company and decided to use this week as a vacation, not only are we invited to tour wedding but will be spending some time of our own together.” Morpheus voice grows deep and seductive a knowing grin appearing on his lips as Y/n’s sisters stares in surprise. “No, it’s understandable.” She quickly adds.

Morpheus’ blue eyes twinkle with mischief. “Now, we’ve just landed and are very tired, we’d like to stop by our hotel and leave our things and perhaps get cleaned up and get some more rest.” His hold around Y/n’s waist tightened, the other man frozen in his hold as both Morpheus and his sister spoke with one another. “Right! I have a car and can drive you both to the hotel.” She offers.

“That is very kind of it, right my love?” His voice is directed to him, startling him out of his daze as he snaps up to Morpheus. “R—right.” He stutters out, face flushed as he loses concentration, holding his luggage and following his sister out of the airport and towards her parked vehicle. The two place their stuff in the back as Y/n claims the front seat with Morpheus sitting behind him. Both he and his sister converse with each other, y/n had zoned out the conversation and with his head leaning against the window.

He knew that their suppose to be convincing in front of his family but he didn’t expect something like that. He was used to such physical contact, he’d never actually dated anyone or treated anyone in such loving matter. He was far too focused on his own life and never got the time to actually date, well—not like anyone wanted to date him.

He didn’t see himself dateable, always getting teased by his family and siblings that he hadn’t found someone yet, reassuring him over and over again and telling him the same thing. ‘You’ll find someone’ ‘don’t worry the right person will come when you least expect it’ he’d grown annoyed by those words, not only did his family remind him but people from work or neighbors would too.

He didn’t want to think too deep into the situation, shaking the thoughts and feelings away. He’s pulled back to reality when they arrive to their hotel, stepping out of the car and collecting his things he bids his sister a goodbye and that he’d stop by to see the others another day. When she gives him a goodbye in return he waits until she drives off, leaving him and Morpheus on their own.

His silence causes Morpheus to worry. “You alright?” He gently touched his arm with a gentle touch, not wanting to startle the man from whatever daze he’s in. Y/n glanced up to see his dark blue eyes staring down at him, filled with worry and concern. “I’m fine.” He responds back, smiling softly. “Tired and hungry.” He added, taking notice of his stiff posture relax when he hears his response. “Let’s head inside and get settled, I’ll order us something to eat.”

The two head inside the hotel, getting their room keys and getting in the elevator. With Morpheus being rich and showing off he decided to purchase the biggest room in the hotel, getting a whole week for the room. It’s big enough to fit more than one person, spacious and with a perfect view of the city. “You could have gotten a simple two bed room.” Y/n murmured, setting his luggage to the side and falling face first on the first couch he comes in contact with.

Morpheus smirks, staring at him. “If I got a smaller room you wouldn’t be able to do that.” He can hear Y/n moan in defeat, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to win an argument with Morpheus Dream himself. He rolls onto his side to see Morpheus remove his coat and set it on and empty chair, reaching for the phone and calling up hotel service, getting them some food and drinks. Y/n sighs deeply, shifting in place and kicking his shoes off as he curls up on the couch. Before he can close his eyes he feels his phone vibrate, frowning in questioning he pulls it out of his pocket to check the contact only to see his mothers number.

Y/n was far too tired to deal with anything at the moment and wanted sleep and food. Instead of answering he sends her straight to voicemail, he can regret it later but right now, he just wanted to sleep. With the peace and quiet he’s finally able to close his eyes and sleep away the stress and worry that he’d carried with him. Later he can eat a nice warm meal and prepare himself for the chaos of his family.

He’s only able to get a few hours of sleep when he’s woken up by a soft touch on his cheek, cold fingers grazing his skin softly as Morpheus speaks in a soft whisper. “Y/n, It’s time to wake up.” His deep voice wasn’t helping, causing him to fall deeper into the pits of dreams and nightmares. “If you do not wake I will eat everything.” Those simple words stir him awake, groggy and tired he yawns deeply. His eyes flutter open to see Morpheus standing above him with a grin on his lips. “Welcome back.” He says. “Dinner came up a few hours ago, but I let you rest first. I was able to heat up the food for you.” Morpheus moves around the coffee table, setting the plate in front of him with utensils on the side.

He’d also set a bottle of orange juice on his left, causing a warm feeling to irrupt in his chest. He’d remembered his favorite drink even though he’s only drunk the thing twice around the presence of the endless. “Thank you.” He rasps out, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, sitting up from the couch and leaning forward to scoop up a bite of food. He takes a bite and the flavors explode in his mouth, causing him to moan in satisfaction. “This is wonderful.” He’s in awe when he continued to eat.

Morpheus shakes his head, chuckling silently as he focused back on his own task. “Your mother called again.”

Y/n froze, eyes casting down on his food.

“I answered.”

“You what—?!” He nearly choked on his food, coughing and chugging down his orange juice as he pants heavily. “What did you say?” He asks, dress filling his body.

“She was confused at first but told her who I was and that you were resting from the long flight, told her that you’ll reach back out whenever you can even though will be busy.”

“Busy? With what?” Y/n tilts his head, confused.

“You didn’t want to face your family yet so, I’m giving them an excuse to give us more time.”

“Oh…” y/n pokes at his food, feeling grateful that Morpheus found a way to keep his family at bay for now. “Thank you, I needed that.”

“If time is what you need then time you will get.” Morpheus had finished putting away his own clothes and luggage away in the closet. The millionaire understood his family situation, he too, had his own issues and could relate to it in some way, expect that Morpheus couldn’t escape his family from issues that didn’t involve him. So, he’s giving Y/n the exception to be free for a little while longer before going into the lions den.

Y/n had finished eating, looking outside to see the moon in the sky and the city lights on. “How long was I asleep for?” He asks, afraid that he’s slept through the whole day and perhaps messed up his sleeping scheduled. “Don’t worry, the sun set an hour ago you were only asleep for two to three hours.” Morpheus approached him, picking up his plate and empty bottle and heading to the small kitchen where he cleans up the dishes.

Y/n watched him, finding it strange to see Morpheus so domestic and bliss. He’s always wearing a black tailored suit at work and focusing on his duties, rarely leaving his office and only attending meetings that were important. Sometimes he’d have a conversation with Lucienne or Mervyn once an awhile but, he’s never seen Morpheus in this state. He looked relaxed and comfortable, wearing something casual for once and not having to fix his appearance around him.

“I’m going to wash up.” Y/n calls out, looking around for his things. “There inside the first room on the right.” He hears Morpheus says, instructing him that he’s moved his stuff to a separate room. “Oh, thank you.” He smiles faintly, walking towards the room he is to stay in and spots his luggage. He gives himself some time to empty his stuff out and put it away for the week, getting some clean clothes and going across the hall and into the bathroom where he takes his time taking a nice long shower and bath, sighing in relief when he’s finally clean and no longer smelling of sweat. His hair Is still wet when he steps out to see Morpheus sitting on the couch, a new book in hand when he looks up.

“You’ll get sick.”

Y/n takes the damp towel in hand. “I’m good.” He tried his best to get rid of the water in his hair but his hair remains damp. Morpheus stands from his spot and walks over, taking the towel in his own hands. “I’ve got it.” Y/n says stubbornly.

“Again, you’ll get sick.” Morpheus guides him back to the bathroom where he opens the bathroom closet to pull out a hair dryer. “Cover your ears.” He instructs, y/n does as he’s told as Morpheus plugs in the dryer and turns it on, taking his time on drying his hair and making sure that he’s gotten rid of the dampness. Leaving his hair dry and messy.

“There.”

When he’s finished he looks at the mirror to stare at their reflection. He gives Y/n a smile, leaning forward to unplug the hair dryer and putting it away. “Next time you tell me and I’ll help you again.” His voice is near his ear, his body shudders and nods. “Of course.”

“Good—try to get some extra sleep.” Morpheus gives him one last look before heading back to the main room to continue reading his book, leaving Y/n on his own as he gets himself fixed up and rushed to his own room where he falls into bed and hugs one of the pillows close to his chest. He should be used to Morpheus actions towards him, he acts the same whenever they work together and never reacted in such way until now. Perhaps he was imagining things and the relationship between them was normal, nothing was different. Everything was the same, Morpheus was simply being kind and looking out for his health. Nothing else.

——————————————————————————

Tags: @un-namedmalereader @fanficsforheartandsoul @boulevardofgalaxies @byler4lifeblog @gaysimp614 @mfairycow @1s3v3n1 @mypsychoticlove @horrfilm

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misha176 · 2 years

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Boyfriend Duties | Corinthian x m!reader

Anonymous asked: The Corinthian x Reader with the line

“Who did this to you?” After Reader gets hurt

summary: Corinthian doesn't have much time for humans, but when it comes to his boyfriend, he's ready to do just about anything and everything to make sure that he won't get hurt.

tws: blood, injury, swearing

You weren't really expecting anything to go wrong, it was seemingly a normal day and nothing particularly out of the ordinary had gone on; sure, there was talk in the papers about how a serial killer had struck again and taken his victim's eyes. You didn't pay it much mind, other than scowling when you realised which newspaper it was; another rich cunt's propaganda machine. It was a fine day, though, sunny but not too hot, breezy but not cold, cloudy but they weren't grey or charcoal coloured; it was a fine and seeming normal day.

Until you dared to cross the road in order to get on the right path that lead you home; on the curb, you tripped, and went face first into the concrete. It wasn't too bad, your head was bleeding but it wasn't too deep, a plaster and some antiseptic would sort it out well enough, but the glass on the pavement had caught your arms and hands, and had sliced into them a little - the worst of it was on your bicep and forearm. The one on your bicep went down to the styrofoam-like texture beneath, but the one on your forearm was much deeper, and you could see the blood run thick down your skin as you grumbled. Home wasn't far, at least, and your boyfriend was there waiting for you to get back; he was protective enough as it was, there no doubt that that instinct would kick in the second he saw you and your dishevelled and bloody state. You brushed yourself off as much as you could, blood smearing your skin and making it sticky to the touch, and you dragged yourself back home, muttering about how you really wished that people wouldn't smash bottles in the middle of the goddamn street.

Sighing heavily, you let yourself in, and rubbed your head softly as you called out for your boyfriend; you didn't want to, but you couldn't help but to smile when you saw him. Grey jogging bottoms, a silver chain around his neck, and black Vans trainers. He looked fucking stunning, but the second he noticed the utter state that you were in, he scowled.

"Who did this to you?"

You grumbled, sitting on the sofa and groaning softly. "No one, unfortunately. Unless if you wanna beat up a fucking curb."

Corinthian hummed softly, his attention on the worst of it more than anything; the cut on your head could be dealt with easily enough, just a plaster and some antiseptic would do it. But then there was your arm to address, jagged and he could see the grey flecks of concrete in the wound that he knew would cause an infection; humans were weak like that. Humans got infections from the smallest things. He sighed, shaking his head and heading to the bathroom. But then he called out to you.

"Don't you think we should get the ones on your arm checked out by a doctor?"

You shook your head. "I'll be fine. I mean, sure, it says on the website that if it's bigger than two inches but it'll be fine."

And there was that protective instinct, as he came back with the antiseptic wipes and a couple of plasters, setting them on the floor next to your legs, he took your wrist in his hand, and he studied the wounds closely. He tutted, licking his lips and shaking his head. "No, you're going to a doctor for those ones. No arguments, puppy. Just listen to me."

You grumbled, knowing that if you protested it would not matter, he would end up convincing you to go one way or another; you didn't know why. You could never be sure why. He was always more than concerned when you got hurt. He didn't extend the same concern to anyone else, though, even laughing when people fell over in public; but when it came to you, it was like he would run up the world's largest mountain just to make sure that you were alright. He would do anything just so he could make sure that you were okay. No one else. Only you, only ever you.

"I'll let you pick the music," he offered, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, making you stay still as he mopped up the blood on your head and cleaned out the wound. The movements were methodical, calculated, even more so when he applied the plaster, humming softly and running his thumb across your bottom lip. "Would that make it easier?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly, but then his hand dropped from your chin, and he muttered something about needing the wounds to be cleaned for the drive over, as well as temporarily covered; the antiseptic wipe hit your skin, and you all but snarled as you grimaced and wriggled. Corinthian didn't have time for it, putting his hand on your shoulder and straddling your lap, keeping you pinned there while he cleaned your skin and tutted softly.

"Fuck," you drew the word out, bared teeth and eyes squeezed tightly shut, tilting your head back and facing the ceiling.

He sighed, shaking his head. "It's almost done, puppy. I'm just making sure that it's clean enough that they'll be able to see how deep it is."

He got off of your lap, kissing your neck as he dropped your arm and told you it was over, he had cleaned it up as best as he could, but there were a couple of bits of glass stuck in the wound on your forearm that he couldn't get out; you were far better behaved when he wrapped a crude bandage around your bicep and forearm, if only to stop more shit from getting into the wounds.

"I'll bring the car round," he told you, grabbing the light grey long sleeved shirt he had left folded on the bed and tugging it on, the jingle of keys following. But when he got to the door, he paused, turning back to you. "What is it, puppy?"

You shrugged, sighing and bouncing your leg a little. "Would, uhm... it's gonna sound weird as fuck, but would you be alright to, y'know... come into the room with me when we get there?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, so casual and so nonchalant that it stunned you for a second.

He didn't even question it, he didn't have to, he knew that humans liked emotional support with these kinds of things, he didn't think his boyfriend would be any different; humans were... unique that way. Shaking his head, Corinthian headed to where he had parked the Mustang; he didn't like the fact that humans were so fucking weak that some glass and concrete could cut them up so badly... but it was a different dislike when it came to you. You were different, special. He'd do anything for you, and when he started the car, hearing the melodic crashing of 'Suicide And Other Comforts' by Cradle Of Filth, he smiled; one of your songs, one of your CDs that you had left playing. Although half the time he didn't even think of taking them out, or switching to the radio, your music was important to you, he knew that, and even if you weren't there, he couldn't bring himself to turn it off. He brought the car round as close as he could, daring to get out and open the door for you. Humans, so weak and so fucking good to kill, yet here he was, helping his mortal boyfriend get into the car with the intention of taking him to get fucking fixed.

Corinthian didn't have much time for humans, they were weak and their only decent use was their eyes and the fact that it was fun to kill them... but he had all the time in the world for you; he even turned the music up a little bit. Anyone else, the sight of them bloodied and hurt would have set him on edge and ready to pounce; you, though, he knew he had to do what he could to make sure that those wounds were patched up and cleaned. He had to make sure that no further harm would come to you.

"Thank you," you said, laying your good hand on his thigh with a bit of a smile.

Corinthian shook his head, daring to smile back. "You're my boyfriend, it's my job to look after you."

You cleared your throat, your hand not leaving his thigh as you leaned back and dared to sing along quietly, even daring to nod your head a little along to the beat, "suicide is a tried and tested formula for release, I hear Her voice from where the grave defies Her, siren song to sing along, no finer, suicide notes, harmonised in a minor, strike a chord with misery, no light nor reef, no unsinkable of romance keeps me, safely from the stormy seas, now drowning, resounding, death-knells pound my dreams, unthinkable to dredge through this, listless and lonely winter frieze."

He stole a glance at you, daring to laugh softly as he hummed and tapped the steering wheel; at the very least, despite your injuries and the pain, you were still singing along to those songs. You were still belting them out with as much strength as you could muster; for a split second he thought that, if someone really had hurt you, if you had gotten into a fight or if someone had attacked you... he would have made them suffer, he would have been more than keen on doing so and he would have made every second the worst of their lives. You weren't like most mortal men, you were different. You were his.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

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misha176 · 2 years

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Lord Morpheus X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

Authors Note: The whole Grumpy x Sunshine reader is starting to become my favorite for lord Morpheus and decided to make another God of happiness shot! Enjoy this wholesome you sons of bitches!

Summary: Morpheus has reached the point of wanting to court the God of happiness after knowing each other for a few years, wanting to create something serious between the two.

Warnings: Fluff, siblings, mentions of endless family, Mentions of death and delirium, Gods of happiness and darkness, bonding, slight kissing, courting, marriage proposal.

Word count: 2.5K

—

The God of Darkness is glaring at the Dream Lord, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Lord Morpheus. He’s looking deep into his soul as he hissed out again.

“No.”

Lord Morpheus held his head up high with his hands behind his back. “Void, i’m not asking—I'm simply tell you.”

“And I’m telling you no.” Void fights back as he takes a step forward, challenging the Endless. “You will not be courting my brother and I will not allow it.”

“It’s not your choice too decide his fate.” Morpheus reminds the God as he growls in anger, turning around in spot as he frowns. “You will not be courting my brother, endless or not. He won’t be by your side.” He warns Dream of the Endless, giving him one last look before disappearing into the darkness. Sunny’s older brother had taken notice of Lord Morpheus courtship towards his brother. As much as he cared for his little brother he wasn’t going to allow an Endless to take his innocence away.

The King of Dreams himself had fallen for the God of Happiness after years of knowing each other. Since the day he first saw his bright smile he was able to feel that familiar tug In his heart, the same feeling he had for Nada and Calliope. He didn’t expect himself to experience that again but with Sunny he would allow such feeling.

The god of happiness was perfect as a husband and partner. He got along well with all of his siblings and the hall adored him, not matter how bad some could usually be, Y/n is always able to work his way inside their hearts. Death already accepts him as a little brother that she adores and loves to be around with. His joy and happiness is contagious, not only to humans but to the endless too.

The news of his courting had reached the rest of siblings, earning them a very interesting conversation during the dinner together with Dream sitting on one end of the table while the rest of his siblings settled. It’s Death who bring up the conversation of his courting. “Rumors tell me that you’ve started courting someone.” She wiggled here brows in a teasing way as Morpheus rolls his eyes.

“Really? Another poor soul to get hurt and abandoned just like the rest.” Said Desire as they leaned back in their seat, legs crossed as they asks. “Who is this new creature you’ll be courting?”

Morpheus adjusts his seating, locking eyes with his sibling as he answers. “The God of Happiness, Sunny, Ray of Sunshine, Y/n.”

Desire froze on spot, his eyes widening in surprise but then slowly darkening. “As much as I am happy for you, brother. I can’t allow you to go after Sunny. You see he’s far too like-able and knowing you, you’d probably hurt his heart.”

Morpheus knew that his last relationships didn’t work out and that he’s made mistakes before but Sunny was a lot different than the rest. He made him feel whole and because of him he can be someone new, someone who can make great changes to himself and his realm. He appreciated Y/n’s presences and even found himself surprised when we the small God challenged him if Morpheus were to over step any boundaries. Everyone knew that he wasn’t one who easily fell in love, but this god has caused such stir inside of him to want to start courting.

“I appreciate your concern, sibling. But, I can assure you that Y/n can make their own decision. If he refuses to accept my proposal the I will not force him nor will I leave his side. I’ll continue to be a friend of his—that is if he wishes.”

“Of course, he’d say Yes!” Death was obviously the happy one for her brother. “I see the way he is around you and he really likes you. You just wait and see.” She gives him a wink, causing a small smile to spread on his lips before the silence is broken by their younger sister Delirium.

“Sunny.” She starts, getting Dreams attention. She sat on the far left side of the table next to Destiny as she asks. “If he says yes, could I meet him?” Both Endless and God had many similarities and she wished to meet him someday.

Dream eyes his younger sister, the two never had a close bond like he did with Death. He was sometimes cautious around her after she changed but he was willing to give their relationship another chance before giving a small nod. “Of course.” His younger sister smiles, turning back to focus on her own doing as she kicked her legs happily. The spent their rest of their family dinner catching up with each other and knowing about their own duties.

—

From the Waking world, the God of happiness roams happily as he walks in a park, a skip in his step as he hums a soft tune that his sister, Love, had sung to him once. For some reason he felt happier than usual, feeling something good coming today. He had fulfilled his duties and had met manny new people that enjoyed his company, his little meet up with Death had to be missed due to her family dinner which he understood. He too, sometimes joined his own family dinners in order to reconnect with his sisters and brother who’ve been busy on their ends.

He didn’t mind being on his own, he’s been used to it for many centuries and could last a few more. He was lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t sense his brother, Void, appear next to his side. “Brother.” His voice startles him, causing him to trip over his own feet but Void is able to grab his arm on time and hold him upright before he falls to the floor.

“Oh, Void! I didn’t expect to see you here, what brings you to France?” Y/n cheerfully asks, straightening himself and fixing his clothes as his brother. God of Darkness, Ruler of chaos, asks him a question. “Have you ever fallen in love?”

Y/n is caught off guard by his brothers question, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to find an answer. “A few times, many years ago actually.”

“And now?”

The god shuts his mouth, face growing red at the thought of falling in love again. Lately he has been growing feeling for the King of Dreams but nothing has been confirmed to know of Morpheus felt the same. If not, he didn’t want to ruin the close friendship they’ve created after a few years of knowing each other. “I—no.” He lies, turning around quickly to avoid his older brothers protest as he continues to walk forward.

“Your a terrible liar.” His brother says, following after him as Y/n tried to get himself distracted or come up with an excuse to avoid his brothers questions. “What about you? Haven’t you ever fallen in love?” He shot back while Void frowns. “Never.” Is his response which breaks Y/n heart a little, hearing his older brother admit to never falling in love. “Really?” His own voice is soft and perhaps full of petty but his brother isn’t bothered by it. “Who would love the Ruler of Chaos and Darkness? No mortal or immortal would.”

“You don’t know that.” Y/n frowns. “I bet their is someone out their who would love you and believe me brother when you find them or when they find you, you’ll soon start to get that fuzzy feeling inside whenever your around them. You’ll want to be around them and get to know their likes and dislikes—Oh! The best feeling of falling in love is knowing that they love you back!”

Void can’t help but smile at his brothers reaction towards love. He expected this conversation more with his sister, Love. But, his little brother was an acceptation. Just the sound of his voice growing excited at the mention of love is enough for him to know that his little brother has fallen hard for the King of Dreams. As much as he hates the idea of the two courting their isn’t much he can do to stop it. If love makes his brother react this way then he couldn’t possibly ruin the happiness he is to receive soon.

“One day I’ll be able to experience that feeling but, right now you can give yourself the time to fall in love. Just, don’t tell Love that I said this you know how she gets.” He groans out. If his sister found out about their conversation it would be chaos for the two.

“I won’t!” Y/n chuckles, standing close to his brother as the two walked together down the park in France. He was soon to leave to London and start his new duties there before visiting the Dreaming. He hears Void sigh deeply and say. “I care for you, you know that right?”

Y/n stands in front of his brother, stopping him in his steps as he raised a brow. “Why does it sound like your dying or something. Did you do something wrong?” His eyes widen. “Did you kill someone?” He whispers this time, voice quiet.

Void rolls his eyes. “None of the above, i’m simply letting you know that I care for you and wish you joy and happiness.” His voice drips with sarcasm now. “Enjoy our moment or else I’ll make you cry again.”

Y/n pouts, giving him a glare. “Maybe you should ask for advice on how to be kind to your family by Love. She can give you some good tips.” He jabs his finger against his brothers chest, “or else I’ll tell her about our bonding moment.”

The God of Darkness froze, eyes hard as he glared. “You wouldn’t dare.”

The God of Happiness grins. “Try me, brother.”

—

When Morpheus returns back from his family dinner and duties he is informed by Lucienne that all was well in the realm and that a guest had arrived to see him. Morpheus didn’t have many guests visiting him but upon hearing Sunny’s name he can’t help but smile a little.

He was told that he’d left to walk around the Dreaming and to explore for a bit with Matthew by his side. His trusty raven watching over the god of happiness as they roam around Fiddlers green.

“—he did that?”

Morpheus can hear Y/n’s voice from a distance as he continued to walk further into Fiddlers green.

“Yeah! I tell you, kid. Lucifer was not happy after their defeat by the boss himself.” Matthew responds back to their small conversation as they sat underneath a tree. Y/n humming to himself as he pulls his legs up to his chest. “I think one only met them once.” He blurts out, at startling the raven in surprise. “You’ve meet Lucifer?! The King of hell, are you crazy?”

Y/n shrugs his shoulders. “I met them when they were first banished from Silver city. They were actually my first.” He confessed. “They were alone and sad and I guess I was there during the right time. I brought them some happiness during our first meeting and they have always respected me. Lucifer wouldn’t cause me any trouble.” He turns to Matthew who said no words, far too shocked at the idea of Lucifer being his first victim of happiness.

“That is impressive, who would have thought.” Matthew flaps his wings, ruffling them as he puffs his chest out, causing Y/n to stroke his feathers, giving them a light touch as Matthew leans into it. The two not noticing Morpheus standing near by as he watched and listened. The story between Sunny and Lucifer was something new to hear, he didn’t think the god of happiness was powerful enough to bring slight happiness to the Ruler of Hell themselves.

As they continued to converse, Morpheus takes his time on reveal himself from the shadows. Approaching the two as Y/n looks up from Matthew and a wide smile spreads on his lips. “Hello, Dreamy.” He calls out, coming to a stand as he brushed off any grass on his legs and standing in front of Morpheus.

“What happened to Morphy?” He questions at the sudden name change. “Oh! I’ll still call you Morphy but today your Dreamy.” His face goes red when he noticed the way it sounds. “Wait no, I mean—your dreamy as in Dream because your the king of dreams—I mean you are dreamy but—actually—“ He continued to ramble not really knowing what he was saying anymore as Morpheus steps up. “Relax.”

He whispered, finally getting the god to calm down and let out a deep sigh.

“Sorry.” He sighs out, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The tension between them grows until Y/n gasps in remembrance. “I almost forgot!” He reached into his own pocket while saying. “I got you something during my travels in the waking world. I was visiting an old friend and they helped me make you this.” He holds out a golden necklace with a blue circled stone with raven engravings carved into it, he shyly hands it to him and clears his throat. “I thought you’d like it—“ Dream gently takes it from his hand, thumb grazing over the stone. “—figured you’d accept it as a courting gift.” He bounced on his toes nervously. His hands behind his back as he takes notice of Morpheus’ frozen state.

His reaction is causing Y/n to panic, perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe asking for courting was something Morpheus didn’t do, the sudden panic was causing him to doubt himself. “If you don’t wish too accept that’s also fine!”

“I do accept.” Morpheus cuts in, holding the necklace in his hand as he smiles softly at the small god. “Strange how I was going to ask you the same question, didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Y/n can’t believe his words as he laughs, not thinking that the two were thinking the same thing about the other. “Dream of the Endless asking to court me? Now, that is surprising.”

Morpheus chuckles, stepping forward to place a hand on his waist and pulling him close. “Does an Endless surprise you?”

“A little.” He chuckles. “Don’t forget, if you wish to court me you Matt provide me a gift.” He lightly swats Morpheus’ hand from his waist as the Lord laughs at his actions. “For you, I’ll give you the world.”

Y/n hums. “How about starting small?” His eyes roam Fiddlers green before landing on Matthew. “How about Matthew?”

“Wait what—?” The raven is standing on a branch and confused.

Morpheus puckered his lips. “Debatable.” He responds, “Unfortunately, Matthew isn’t a gift I can provide.”

“Very well, then I give you twenty four hours to think of something.” Y/n leans forward to peck his cheek, smiling against his skin before pulling away. “Twenty four hours and then you can come find me.” He whispers to the Dream Lord making him weak on the knees. “Of course, my ray of sunshine.”

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