#ship: y/n x misuta

[crow-quills]

Nightmare's Grace

Misuta (Ghost in the Machine)/Reader

Summary: Nightmares have become a familiarity to you, though that doesn't mean they're any easier to deal with. Misuta finds his own way to distract you from your frayed nerves late one night.

Trigger Warning(s): None

Rating: T, SFW

Word Count: 1,476

Notes: Ghost in the Machine and Misuta both belong to @venomous-qwille. Some may already be familiar with this piece if you're in the discord server.

You'd lost track of the time long ago from when you first checked it after being wrenched from the tangled grasp of a nightmare. The clock's numbers that had once seared itself into your mind when you first checked your phone was nothing more than a bleary remnant chased away by the steady throbbing behind your temples.

You couldn't say for sure just what drove you from your slumber, only having a vague recollection of a nightmare that once dug its icy claws into your mind. A fading memory turning to nothing more than a ghost, faint and wisping out of your grasp like smoke whenever you try to grab it.

Chasing it is a lost cause at this point though it doesn't negate the dread that has lodged itself in your gut like lead - heavy and unsettling.

Hunched over the kitchen table you try to dislodge the lingering, unnerving feeling within your body from something it can't even remember. At the very least the dim lighting of the kitchen doesn't aggravate the pain blooming within your head, though it doesn't soothe it much either. Eyes screwed shut, you raise a hand to card through your hair with a steadying breath, contemplating whether you should call it a night or bid any further rest goodbye and get to work.

"What are you doing up, Hoshiko?" Misuta's soft voice draws you out of your deliberation. The moon themed animatronic lingering within the kitchen doorway with the fur of his hood shadowing his face. Startling magenta eyes staring at you from beneath it, softened with a mix of confusion and concern.

His eyes flick over your form for a minute, hunched at the table and abandoned drink beside you. Biting your cheek for a moment, you break the gaze you shared with the bot as you shift uncomfortably. "Couldn't sleep," a weak excuse even to your ears as you try to ignore the way Misuta's examination sends a prickle down your spine.

The quiet thud of heavy booted feet sound out and grow closer as he steps further into the kitchen to come up behind you. A hand finds the center of your upper back, resting against it in a barely there touch, as if worried you'd startle from anything heavier. Gingerly, after a brief moment you can feel his thumb move, rubbing circles into clothed flesh. He's silent now, but you're well aware he's watching you carefully.

A broad palm presses further into your back a coolness seeps through the fabric of your shirt and serves as a balm on your frayed nerves more than you'd care to admit. "Restlessness or bad dreams?" Concern bleeds into his tone and stands out amongst the softness of his voice as he finally shatters the temporary lull.

Resisting the urge to cringe at how close to the mark he was you simply shrug though the motion isn't enough to dislodge his hand.

"It's nothing to worry about, I'll be fine." You don't want to look back at him, to see whatever expression may have etched itself upon his face. Staring into your forgotten tea, you opt to study the liquid instead as your tongue presses against the back of your teeth. His thumb stutters in its measured movements, telling you enough about what he thinks of your attempt to dance around the subject of whatever ails you.

For a heartbeat of a moment, worry bites at your mind that he'll probe further on the subject. Instead the questioning never comes as he simply slides his hand up to the right to clasp your shoulder. A tender squeeze follows the gesture as he mumbles something that you don't quite catch, but can only assume it's meant to be comforting.

At least, you hope it is.

Not knowing what to do with your hands you grab your abandoned cup, fingers wrapping around it tighter than you intended. Drawing it to your lips you try not to grimace as the liquid graces your tongue, the warmth having fled from it long ago.

"I'm alright, I promise," your own reassurance sounds almost fake, even to you, as the cup is lowered back onto the table with a solid sounding clink.

A noise resonates within the voice box of your companion, one you can't quite place the emotions behind, as his hand suddenly draws away. A phantom trail is left behind as his fingers linger longer than needed when he pulls away. Rolling back your shoulders, you sit up straighter now trying to compose yourself from the half curled position you once were in.

You intend to dismiss yourself, to evade and hide from any further questioning on just what drew you down here in the middle of the night. However, the sight of a familiar hand held out in offering, filling your peripheral vision, catches you off guard and gives you pause.

Misuta's palm held out and upturned in an offer you're unsure the intention of. Glancing up at his face to read his expression, you see only a soft look of encouragement which is enough to spur you into action.

Placing your hand in his - almost dwarfed in his hold - his fingers curl to fully clutch yours with a surprising amount of delicacy behind the action. Gently, he guides you up to stand without a hint of hesitation in his movement as his free hand moves to your hip, grasping it lightly. The closeness of his body combined with the strangely intimate feel of his touch baits a heat to rise to your face and causes your gaze to drop away from him.

"Look at me, Hoshiko," imploring and soft, the hand he once clutched your own with slips free in favor of rising up. A knuckle comes to lightly tap the bottom of your chin in an attempt to draw your attention once more. The draw of him and the action is hard to ignore. Without thinking you find yourself lifting your head to meet magenta eyes softening at the bone deep tiredness you know must show on your face.

Content, his hand moves to cup your cheek as the pad of his thumb swipes beneath your eye. Gentle as it tugs at the skin, mindful of his claws, tracing the darkness underlining it as worry pinches the corners of his mouth. "You're not getting enough rest."

The worry laced within his tone sparks a defensiveness within you that's spitting like an irate cat. Protest bubbles up in your throat, though its quickly smothered as the hand at your face shifts to swipe a stray hair out of the way. Claws gently grazing against your heated skin as he follows the shape of your face to the curve of your ear.

Mapping out a path as cool digits trail down along your neck, faint and light as he grazes over your pulse, skimming over your shoulder and down your arm. Tentatively, his fingers press into your palm as they slide down to interlock your fingers. Palm against palm, he draws your arm up to bend at the elbow - held out to the side.

The hand at your hip moves, sliding along to curl at your back, resting against the small of it in a brace. His hold, sturdy and pulling you tighter against his form, but with enough give to allow you the freedom to slip out of it. "It's just us, you're safe with me," his voice low and warm, the consolation accompanied by a gentle squeeze of your entwined hands.

He takes a moment to scan over you in search of something - what exactly you're not sure of - but he seems to find it quickly. Tucked against him Misuta steps back with you in tow, not seeming to mind the brief stumble you experience with the sudden movement. Jacket sleeves swaying with the motion, he moves slowly as he guides the two of you back a few steps before moving forward again.

A dance, you come to realize as a hum rumbles from his voice box, a slow tune you can't quite place. Slow steps bringing you around into a circle following his voice as he keeps you steady.

It's a distraction, you know it is.

His own attempt at pulling your mind away from whatever troubles you no matter how unknown it is to him, however it's one you'll indulge in for now. Falling into the rhythmic pattern he sets is easy to do with little worry as you tuck your head against his chest. The melodic hum of his voice box echoing against your ear in a mingled noise of the quiet ticks and clicks of the mechanics hidden within his chassis.

An idle thought of comparing it to a lullaby flicks through your head as he takes you into another turn.

#crow's pen #ghost in the machine #misuta moon #misuta gitm #misuta x reader #gitm y/n #regular tags outta the way time for actual blog organization #au content #au: ghost in the machine #gitm: misuta #ship: y/n x misuta #if you read this far hi don't mind me possibly working on posting my drabbles here #no guarantees everything will end up here but might as well start with this one since I'm the most proud of it #queueing this then scampering away to forget that I posted it lmao #also if anyone asks its rated T mainly just cause of the nature of gitm