#gndw drabble

[girl-next-door-writes]

3am

Characters: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: It’s 3am and Steve allows himself to feel a little comfort in the midst of all the madness.

Word Count: 500 words

Prompt: ‘You’re my new pillow’

A/N: This is for the amazingly wonderful @band--psycho and their drabble celebration. This was difficult to keep under 500 words!!!!

It was late, and nothing good ever happened at 3am. He felt like he was always the last one for the penny to drop, always a few steps behind everyone else mentally, and he worried that if he closed his eyes for a second that something terrible would happen.

Sitting in the Wheelers basement, surrounded by the gentle snores and occasional shifting of his sleeping friends, he allowed himself a second to just breathe. His gaze drifted in the gloom to you, leaning against him with a peaceful expression, and his heart ached. You had never really been his, but that didn’t stop his heart leaping into his throat every time he saw you. Not that he had ever told you that. Steve knew he was not good enough for you, you deserved the world, but he wanted you to be happy, to get through this nightmare as unscathed as possible. Part of him wished you’d never been dragged into all this, and another part was grateful you were by his side.

Maybe one day, the stars might align, and you would see he was sitting here simply waiting for you, but until then, he was content to just be in your orbit. He shifted slightly, laying back against the arm of the sofa causing your head to rest against his chest. Steve froze as you let out a deep sigh and then snuggle into him, your hand coming to rest by your face, softly rubbing his chest. A goofy smile played on his lips as he looked down at you with a lovestruck expression he knew would result in mercilessly teasing if witnessed. Things were crazy, and he was so afraid he wouldn’t be enough, but right in this moment he allowed himself to feel something else, something lighter.

You let out a soft groan and your eyes opened slightly, taking a moment remember where you were. A soft smile pulled at your lips as you realised you were snuggled up to Steve, assuming he was asleep. Sneaking a glance up at him, your eyebrows rose when your eyes met his warm chocolate one.

“Hey.” You whispered, voice still thick with sleep.

“Hey.” He hummed back, the rumble in his chest vibrating beneath your hand.

“You comfy?”

“Yeah. You?”

“You’re my new pillow.” You grinned sleepily and Steve felt his heart explode at just how adorable you looked right now.

“Any time.”

“Careful, Harrington, I might just hold you to that.” You murmured as you snuggled into his chest once more, already feeling sleep calling you back into its depths.

“Good.” He whispered, wrapping his arm around you, and letting his own eyes close. The weight of you against his body was reassuring, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that he was just a nineteen-year-old kid, and it was okay not to have his whole life together. He placed an absentminded kiss to the top of your head and allowed himself to drift off and get some well-deserved rest.

[girl-next-door-writes]

For @perpetual-exhaustion21. It's been a hot minute since I wrote anything for my lovely Star Trek boys but I am on the look out for plot bunnies.

This was not how it was meant to be. He wasn't even supposed to be on this stupid mission in the first place, but then you'd offered and he'd be damned if anything happened to you on his watch. Not that he would ever admit to ANYONE that was the reason he was here. Especially when he knew the looks he would receive from Kirk, the teasing, the pushing to tell you how he feels only to be rejected and have to deal with the humiliation. Nope. Never going to happen. He had decided to keep a safe distance, only stepping in when he felt the overwhelming need to keep you safe.

Of course, right now you were safely tucked away fixing the battered ship while he was standing here, with Spock, about to die. They were surrounded and unarmed, things were not looking good at all. He wondered if there was anything the Vulcan regretted, anything left unsaid or undone. McCoy had a list as long as his arm, and at the top was knowing he would never get to hold you.

Of course, he longed to do more than just hold you, but holding you had always seemed somehow attainable, barely crossing any lines. He had been working up to it, waiting for his moment when he could pull you into his arms. Some rocks shifted along the side of the ravine, indicating their assailants were getting closer.

"Well, at least I won't die alone." He half joked, feeling the reassuring pressure of Spock leaning against his back for a moment, and then it was gone. Spinning around, he saw that Spock had vanished! "Well that's just-"

His words were cut off as he found himself beamed aboard the broken ship and before he could gather his thoughts you had launched yourself at him, holding him so tight he wasn't entirely sure if it was restricting his breathing. He was aware of you mumbling something against his chest, fear and panic in your tone. Leonard frowned and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your hair as he whispered, "It's okay, darlin'. I'm okay. We're gonna be okay."

He felt your grip on his shirt loosen a little, but you didn't pull away. Maybe it was the near death situation, maybe it was wishful thinking, but Leonard couldn't help hope he had a shot at a little more than just holding you. Perhaps he would see if you wanted to get a drink after all this was over. One thing he knew for damned sure was that he didn't want to be staring down death and regretting not taking his shot with you.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Hello sorry it took me so long to find a gif! (this is disadvantage2caring btw 😊) I love Mycroft but I don't see enough Hux stuff either so I went with this one. Who doesn't love a confused Hux lol. Thank you so much and I can't wait to read this drabble ♥

Well worth the wait!!! Oh man! Confused Hux is wonderful. Let's see what I've got rolling round my mind for this one.

"I just cannot comprehend the rational behind it." Hux sighed with frustration. This conversation was supposed to clarify things for him, help him get to the bottom of his current dilemma.

"Is it completely beyond the realms of possibility that someone, and by someone I mean the Lieutenant in question, could be physically attracted to you?" Phasma asked with a raised eyebrow that Hux felt rather than saw due to her helmet.

"W-what? That's no- That is certainly not what this is. This is yet another attempt by Ren to torture me." He frowned, his fingers flexing by his side of their own volition.

"Ren? Ren would have gone to all the trouble of finding an attractive Lieutenant and what? Forced them to nice to you? Threatened them to defend you against Pryde? I don't think that man has the patience to pull off something like that." Phasma smirked, knowing exactly why her friend was having such difficulty accepting the inevitable truth.

"Defended me against Pryde?" Armitage asked, confusion etched onto his face, "When was this? Where?" His body was practically vibrating with panic now. If you had done something so bold on his behalf then there would surely be consequences and the thought of you being hurt sent a pain through his chest akin to being hit with a blaster.

"Third deck holding last I heard." Phasma said casually, watching Hux almost trip over himself to leave, perhaps to be your saviour in this matter. She didn't have the heart to tell him you were perfectly fine, that she had stopped you from saying something that would get you into trouble, but she knew he wouldn't acknowledge his feelings for you if he didn't think he might never get the chance to. Maybe this little shove in the right direction would give him the chance to find something that could make him happy.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Leonard McCoy, please? Thank you!

Oh, I am enjoying writing my grumpy medic once more. I hadn't realised how much I missed him.

Shore leave was always an 'occasion' due to it being so rare! It was definitely strange seeing people out of uniform, the professional lines now officially blurred as rank melted away for the next 24 hours. Everyone was excited, but Leonard McCoy's smile had a different reason behind it.

"Hey, you coming?" Kirk asked his friend, nodding towards the door. They plan was to go for drinks and then find somewhere to eat in the vain hope it would soak up some of the alcohol.

"Yeah, just waitin' for..." He trailed off as he spotted you out of the corner of his eye. His smile grew as he turned towards you, watching you scan the crowd until your eyes fell on him and a smile of your own lit up your face.

"Ah." Kirk smirked knowingly. He had been trying to set the two of you up for what seemed like an age, but it looked like maybe the good doctor had finally grown a pair and asked you to join him.

"Hey." You grinned as you jogged over to join them, and it was in that moment both men realised you thought this was a group activity rather than a date. "Ready to go?"

The pained look that flashed across Leonard's face both amused and pained his friend, but there was no way Kirk was about to make this situation easier for him.

"Let's go. You look lovely by the way, I'm not sure anyone's told you that yet." He shot a pointed look at McCoy who simply rolled his eyes.

"Beautiful darlin'." He agreed, noting the shy smile that appeared at his compliment. Perhaps this wasn't a total lost cause after all.

[girl-next-door-writes]

For @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek I'm sorry this got away from me a little.

The British weather was somehow fitting this morning. Warm enough to leave the house without a coat and yet temperamental enough to burst into sudden heavy downpours without warning. The bottom of his trousers were sodden, the raindrops bouncing up and embedding deep into the expensive fabric, a reminder for the rest of the day as it took its time to dry. The ash from the tip of his cigarette threatened to tumble onto his sleeve, but he didn't care. So what if he ruined his suit with small scorch holes and water damage? What was the point?

John stomped his way through the rain towards the figure beneath the umbrella, anger bubbling within him. He had left you back at your place after crying yourself to sleep. Your friend had been by your side all night and now the reason for your tears had the audacity to summon him!?! Oh, he was going to give Mycroft Holmes more than just a piece of his mind.

Mycroft turned as he felt John approach, a wan smile on his lips as he dropped his cigarette on the floor and stubbed it out with the heel of his shoe. A deep sadness emanated from him, causing Watson to pause before he launched into his pre-prepared rant.

"I need you to give this package to my brother." Mycroft said simply, he didn't trust his voice to say more. He didn't ask if John had seen you, it was obvious he had. He didn't ask if you were okay, it was obvious you weren't. He didn't ask if there was any chance at all you would see him, that he could explain, that he could take it all back and tell you he was just scared. Terrified of his feelings for you. Afraid that you would really see him and be as disgusted as he was himself. His heart ached as all the unspoken questions hung between him and Watson.

"I'll make sure he gets it." John took the package and nodded curtly before turning and stalking away through the rain, leaving Mycroft to his self-made melancholy.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Hello~

I present to you, my dear, sweet man: Steven Grant for the gif drabble. Thank you~! 💖

Oh, I just want to wrap this man up in a blanket like a burrito and feed him beignets.

It was Saturday. Saturday morning. More specifically it was the Saturday morning of daylight savings, which meant you got a whole extra hour added to your night! This was one of your favourite days because it meant a whole extra hour with Steven, and that was why you woke up at stupid-o-clock like a child on Christmas morning.

You had let him sleep, he clearly needed it, and had created a breakfast banquet as well as preparing a picnic for todays adventures. It had been your intention to wake him in about an hour, but your excitement had bubbled up and as you danced around the kitchen you hummed to yourself. That was what woke him.

Sitting up in bed, he looked around blearily, his eyes taking in flashes of you dancing around in one of his shirts. You seemed even more sunshiny than usual and Steven immediately began to panic. What day was it? Was it an anniversary? Birthday? Obviously it was something special because you were radiating joy like never before but he couldn't for the life of him figure it out.

"Darlin'?" He called, pushing himself out of bed and padding over to the kitchen, running his fingers through his unruly locks. "What's with all the food? Not that I'm complainin', love your food and you looking after me and all that. Just wonderin' is all."

"Hey." You grinned, sliding over and placing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Happy daylight savings day! We get a whole extra hour together today, or tonight? Not sure how it works, just know we need to sort out the clocks before bed." Pressing another kiss to his jaw, you whirled away to pour him a coffee leaving him standing there shaking his head, a soft, affectionate smile on his lips. You we a little insane, but he liked that about you. Your enthusiasm was infectious, especially when he realised what you were really happy about was an extra hour with him.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Hi darling, I am sending you this gif for the drabble. If it's not showing properly I can resend it or send another. I made this gif for you so If you like it feel free to use it. Thank you

I adore this gif so much and that is the only reason this has taken me so long to write.

There were so many reasons to love Steven Grant. He was kind and sweet, thoughtful of everyone. He was a genuinely nice guy with a quirky sense of humour and encyclopaedic knowledge of his hyper fixations. Ever since this handsome, dishevelled man quite literally fell into your life, you had been fighting the growing affection you had towards him. Steven was your friend. A friend and nothing more.

"Morning gorgeous." You could hear the smile in his voice as butterflies cascaded around your chest at the innocent endearment.

"Good morning handsome, you sound like you might actually have gotten a little sleep last night." You checked your bedside clock, turning off the alarm before it could sound. It had become a daily thing, the last few weeks, a 'goodnight' call and a 'good morning' from your dear friend.

"I did actually. All good here." You could hear him moving around his apartment, trying your best not to think about him still in his pj's, hair messy from sleep. Or maybe just a towel! Padding around after a morning shower. "Morning Gus, my little one-finned wonder." You couldn't help but smile as you listened to him greeting his flatmate.

"Tell Gus I say good morning too." You say brightly, your smile growing as you hear him chuckle.

"You hear that, mate? You just got a 'good morning'! Careful though, don't want you stealing 'em away from me. I'm still your favourite, right?" There was a hint of insecurity in his tone that you were quick to soothe.

"Always, Steven. You are and always will be my favourite in the whole world." You chuckle, heading to your kitchen to make a drink.

"The whole world? Wow. That's a lot of people. You sure I'm your favourite of everyone? What if you meet someone better? Someone less mental?" This caused you to pause and then carefully put your cup down.

"Steven, everyone's kinda mental, just in different ways. You are my favourite human being on the planet, so you're just gonna have to deal with that knowledge because I'm not changing my mind. Gus can be my favourite fish if he likes." You wait for a response, needing him to know just how much he means to you.

"Yeah." He said quietly, and you could have sworn you heard a slight sniff. "Yeah, I think we'd both like that. Hey, wanna go to the National Gallery today? I think they've got some new exhibition thing going. Might be fun."

"Sounds like a plan. Give me an hour and I'll come round to yours. After all, I need to see my favourite fish before we head out, don't want him getting all jealous that you get me all to yourself for the day." You giggled and mentally began putting together an outfit for the day.

"See you in an hour then, gorgeous." His grin was evident in his voice once again and you felt your heart skip. "Laters gators."

"In a while, crocodile." You responded before hanging up and hurrying to get ready. A whole day with Steven Grant, that sounded pretty close to heaven.

[girl-next-door-writes]

@kjs-s how could I possibly resist? It's Dean and a dog! Look how happy he is!

You checked your watch again, only just refraining from tapping your foot as you continued to wait. It wasn't like them to be late. Dean ran everything on military time when hunting was involved, so part of you began to worry something had happened to them. Surely they hadn't gone in without you? No, they wouldn't do that. Maybe they needed to stop for gas?

A million possibilities ran through your mind as your eyes frantically scanned to see if you could spot them. In all honesty, you heard Baby before you saw her. Relief flooded over you, which turned to confused amusement as they rounded the corner and you saw Dean hanging out of the window with a dog?!? He had a dog in the car!

As they pulled up, Sammy shot you an apologetic look and you smiled softly in acknowledgement before turning to the elephant in the room, or rather the dog in the impala.

"New teammate?" You asked Dean who was beaming like a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

"Isn't he great! He follows commands and everything."

"Great, so you're gonna be sitting in the back with him then." You said pointedly, barely holding back a laugh as you watched the conflict play across Dean's face.

"I mean... yeah if, if you don't wanna... he's a good boy though, won't get in your face or anything."

"Your dog drools on me and you do my laundry for a month." You call out as you move to climb into the back.

"Deal." Dean grinned, sitting back and bouncing in his seat. This was a good day for Dean, he had his dog, his girl and the open road. What could possibly go wrong?

[girl-next-door-writes]

So a 3rd option arised. Sammy for the win this time

I was expecting Dean or Clint... YOU SENT ME SAMMY!!!! *swoons and falls to the floor* Okay, okay, now I've gathered myself to type, here's a little something for your kind offering.

Gabriel was flirting with you, again. You were never entirely sure how you were supposed to take his not-so-subtle advances. Should you be amused? Flattered? Irritated? Right now you were sucking on a lollipop, perched on the edge of the table, watching the angel with a look of sheer bewilderment.

"I can be whatever you want me to be, sugar." Gabe smirked, producing a dozen roses out of thin air. His eyes darted over to make sure Sam was watching all this, wondering what line he'd have to cross before the BFG got up off his ass and told you how he felt. Gabe only hoped that would happen before you caught feelings for him instead of Sammy-boy.

"Whatever I want? Then you wouldn't be you, and surely you want me to love you for you, right?" You asked thoughtfully, pulling your lollipop from between your lips.

"Well, what do you want, and we can see if that's me." Gabe suggested, moving to stand between your thighs, causing Sam to frown as he pretended to be engrossed in his book rather than your conversation.

"I want a guy who is tall." You grinned, laughing lightly as Gabe pulled himself up to his full height. "Okay, kind, thoughtful, who will protect me but will also let me protect him. Someone interesting, must read books..." Gabe's eyes drifted over your shoulder and met Sam's, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

"...a little bit of a geek, would rather stay in and watch a movie than go out to a bar, someone who will let me borrow his clothes, even though they are massive..."

"Someone who is like a best friend?" Gabe asked, still looking at Sam.

"Yeah, exactly. A best friend who I want to kiss all the time." You agreed, and Sam felt himself growing warm.

"Maybe someone who you think looks good with a beard, even though his brother was mean and convinced him to shave it off?" Gabe grinned, your eyes widening as you realised exactly what he was implying. Your nerves definitely not helped by the chuckle of disbelief behind you.

"Yeah." You said rather boldly, whatever game this was that Gabe was playing you would be damned if you let him win.

"Well, sugar, that definitely does not sound like me so I shall take the shattered pieces of my broken heart and maybe go mess with Deano for a bit to cheer myself up." And with that, the cheeky angel vanished.

"Did- did you really like the beard?" Sam asked tentatively, getting to his feet and coming to sit beside you on the table.

"It may have played into my manly lumberjack fantasies." You say as you bump your shoulder against his arm.

"If you give me a few days, maybe I can help you out with those fantasies of yours." Sam suggested with a nervous smile on his lips, a smile which only grew when you looked at him with a mixture of shock and amusement.

"You're gonna have to at least take me to dinner before I let you in on all those scenarios."

"Okay." Sam grinned, happiness radiating off him. "Go get your jacket, I'm taking you for dinner."

[girl-next-door-writes]

@kjs-s I have decided to write both. Both are very good. So, here's your first little ramble for the LOVELY Steven with a 'v'.

This was insane. Like, certifiably insane! If you hadn't seen it all with your own eyes then you would have been concerned that Steven had finally completely lost it. Though maybe it was you who was headed for the looney bin.

Standing there, eyes wide, you tried to process the scene in front of you. Several incredibly dangerous looking men sprawled throughout the alley way, you totally unharmed, a rather suave figure entirely in white with Steven's voice watching you carefully.

"What. The Hell. Was. That?" you managed to huff out, your heart still racing.

"Well, kinda a long story really. I mean, we could start from the beginning, though I'm not sure where the real beginning is. Maybe with Marc? Maybe before that, really, I mean it's not like there haven't been other avatars and stuff but..." He trailed off when he realised he was rambling and you definitely weren't following his erratic train of thought.

"Steven. Did you really just take out six guys?" Your eyes ran over the bodies once more, doing a headcount.

"Didn't really seem fair, did it? Them lot all against you, figured I'd even the numbers a little." He was growing more nervous, uncertain that you would ever want anything to do with him again after all this.

"Even it up? You came out of nowhere, like Batman! Though you outfit is rather more conspicuous." Your eyes roamed over him, taking in every detail of this elaborate costume.

"Well, I do look sharp though." He fixed his tie, not sure if he liked this comparison to the caped crusader of comic book fame.

"True." You smirked and he felt his nerves dissipating a little. "Still, it's not my favourite look on you. I can't see that gorgeous face of yours. I would rather like to look into the eyes of my hero and thank him properly." 

"Oh, well, I can manage that." Steven grinned as he stepped forward, his mask disappearing as he placed his hands on your waist.

"There you are." You hummed, not quite sure how you were going to match up your mild mannered, loving boyfriend with the kick ass ninja warrior you'd just witnessed.

"Here I am." He said softly, resting his forehead against yours, just glad that you were safe, that he had arrived in time. In the back of his mind he heard Marc warning that this wasn't over. Steven knew he was right, but he just wanted a moment with you, a calm pause before he truly introduced you to the craziness his life had become.

[girl-next-door-writes]

The fabulous @witchygagirl was one of the winners of my Reblog Mini-Draw last week and THIS is the gif I received to drabble. Just take a moment to look at it. It's a gift. Anyway, here's something I wrote about it.

"I do not have a thing for her." Dean huffed, keeping his eyes on the road as the rain fell harder. This was a 'discussion' he and his brother had with increased regularity over the last few months and it was becoming difficult for him to deny. Of course he had a 'thing' for you! You were brilliant, brave, smart, sexy, fun... how could he not be completely smitten? Of course, Dean being Dean, he knew that there was no way those feelings were reciprocated, that you deserved so much better than anything he could provide.

"You definitely do." Sam grinned, glancing at his brother, "You go all soft when you speak to her. She makes you happy."

"Pie makes me happy. The open road and good music makes me happy. She-" his words were cut off by his phone ringing and he answered it as soon as he saw your name flashing up on the screen. "Hey sweetheart. Everything okay?" he asked, panic gripping him until he heard you chuckle and tell him you were good, you just wanted to check in with him.

His body relaxed and he nodded to himself, the hint of a smile on his lips. "We're good, just on the way back... Sammy, she says 'hi'."

"Tell her hi back, and that you loooove her and want to marry her." Sam teased, definitely loud enough for you to hear him.

"Shut up." Dean hissed, unable to hit his brother as that would mean letting go of the steering wheel entirely. "No, not you sweetheart, Sammy's just being a dick. Where abouts are you? Still in Alabama?... oh! Yeah, yeah of course, you can crash at ours any time you like." His heart was hammering in his chest and his foot may have pressed a little harder on the accelerator. You would be there at the bunker, waiting for him when he got back. That thought definitely made him feel a little soft around the edges.

"Nah, Sammy will be fine with it. Hey, you want me to pick up something to eat on the way back? Don't mind stopping by that little burger place you like, the one with the real thick milkshakes. Yeah? Okay, guess I'll be seein' you in an hour or so." As he hung up, a wide smile had appeared on his face.

"Told you, you go all soft." Sam smirked, this time earning him a punch in the arm.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Hi! :) was wondering I'd you could have someone get flirty...inappropriatly so with Mycroft then shows up to find him

@theweepingvulcan91 Thank you so much for this gift of a gif. It might have got away from me a little - Em.

The soft glow of the reading lamps illuminated the high ceilings and grand bookshelves of the Diogenes Club, casting long shadows that danced upon the richly decorated walls. Mycroft Holmes, his posture upright yet relaxed, was nestled in a plush armchair near the fireplace. The subtle crackling of the fire added a comforting backdrop to the scene, a stark contrast to the day's relentless demands.

The other members of the club, equally committed to the sanctity of silence, moved about with deliberate quietness, their footfalls muffled by thick carpets. Some were engrossed in their newspapers, others in their books, all sharing an unspoken agreement to preserve the tranquillity of the space.

Mycroft's evening reading was a well-worn ritual, a necessary retreat from the cacophony of his responsibilities. His sharp eyes scanned the pages methodically, each piece of information absorbed and catalogued with precision. The club's unique environment allowed him to process the day's events, each new fact or observation finding its rightful place in the intricate tapestry of his mind.

The atmosphere was one of serene detachment, a haven where even the most burdened of minds could find respite. As the fire continued its gentle murmur, Mycroft turned another page, the rhythm of his routine restoring the equilibrium that had been disturbed by the day's incessant challenges. Here, within the hallowed halls of the Diogenes Club, he found peace. That was until his phone vibrated, drawing his hawkish attention.

Mycroft's eyebrow arched as he glanced at the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noted the sender. Shuffling through his mental rolodex, he realised this was that strange woman from acquisitions who always smiled at him. He barely said a word to her, and yet she always seemed to go out of her way to say hello to him.

He wondered how she had managed to acquire his private number. Mycroft prided himself on his meticulous control over his personal information, a necessity in his line of work. That she had pierced this veil of privacy irked him greatly. This imposition was an irritation, a security breach.

With a silent sigh, he leaned back in his chair, allowing the shadows of the flickering fire to play across his face. The club’s atmosphere, usually a fortress of calm, now seemed to buzz with a faint undercurrent of urgency. Perhaps this message was a necessity, something which required his immediate attention.

He opened the message, his expression becoming one of confusion.

"Did you miss me today, Mycroft?" read the message, followed by a winking emoji.

Mycroft's fingers tightened around his phone as he read the message again, disbelief warring with irritation. His mind raced, analyzing every interaction he had ever had with the woman from acquisitions. Each encounter had been brief, polite, and decidedly unremarkable—at least from his perspective. What had he missed? How had he overlooked someone slipping through his carefully constructed barriers?

He set the phone down on the mahogany table beside his chair, the flickering firelight reflecting off its screen. The message stared back at him, its casual tone completely at odds with the seriousness of his current predicament. Mycroft was not accustomed to being caught off guard, and the sensation was deeply unsettling.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. It would not do to let this minor breach unsettle him. He needed to address the situation methodically. His first step would be to ascertain exactly how she had obtained his private number. That would require some discreet inquiries—he had no doubt that the answer would reveal a lapse in his own protocols, and that was unacceptable.

For now, he had to respond. Ignoring the message was not an option; it would only embolden her to further intrusions. Mycroft picked up his phone again, considering his reply carefully. He needed to convey his displeasure without revealing too much, to reassert his boundaries firmly but without provocation.

After a moment of contemplation, he typed out a response:

"I believe you may have mistaken this number for a more public line. Please refrain from using it in the future. – M.H."

He sent the message and set the phone down once more, feeling a measure of control return. The fire crackled quietly beside him, and he let the warmth and the familiar surroundings of the club soothe his irritation. This would be dealt with swiftly, just like any other anomaly in his meticulously ordered world.

Unfortunately for Mycroft, the matter was far from settled. It appeared that once she knew this was indeed his number, it only encouraged her to send further messages. Each one was more flirty and suggestive than the last, making him feel increasingly uncomfortable. Despite his best efforts to ignore the texts and hope they would stop, they persisted, leaving him in a state of constant unease. Mycroft realized that he would need to take more definitive action to address the situation, but he wasn't quite sure what steps to take next.

Sherlock had asked you to stop by the Diogenes Club on your way home to drop off a file for his brother. As you entered the room, ignoring the glares that quite obviously not being a member earned you, your attention fell on the look of total frustration on Mycroft's face. His entire being practically vibrated with it. It was clear that something was deeply troubling him, and it wasn't just the breach of the club's strict non-communication policy by your presence. Mycroft, usually the epitome of calm and control, seemed to be battling an internal storm. His fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest of his chair, and his eyes, though focused on his phone, were filled with a mix of anger and discomfort. It was a rare sight to see the elder Holmes so unsettled, and you couldn't help but wonder what had pushed him to this edge.

As you approached, his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes, frustration rolling off him in waves.

"Trouble at work?" you queried, taking a seat opposite him. Your voice pierced through the silence, earning you more than a couple of black looks from other club members.

"Nothing I cannot handle," Mycroft huffed, his jaw clenching as his phone vibrated once again. The urge to throw the damned thing into the fire grew stronger with each low hum emanating from the blasted machine.

You glanced at his phone, then back at him. "It doesn't look like nothing," you remarked, your tone gentle but probing.

Mycroft's eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of annoyance and resignation in them. "Persistent... nuisance," he admitted, the words forced through gritted teeth.

You raised an eyebrow. "Anything I can help with?"

For a moment, he seemed to consider the offer, then shook his head. "No, but I appreciate the gesture. It's a personal matter that requires a delicate approach."

"I doubt a 'delicate approach' from a Holmes is possible," you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to suppress a grin.

The phone buzzed once more, breaking the moment. He reached out and grabbed it with such force that his knuckles turned white.

Without a word, you extended your hand, eyes locked on his. He hesitated but eventually handed over the phone, his gaze never leaving your face. As you scrolled through the messages, your eyebrows shot up and a smile tugged at your lips; the messages were becoming increasingly bold.

He watched, his curiosity piqued, as you typed a reply and hit send. Then, with a smirk, you handed the phone back to him.

He held it in his palm, expecting another buzz, another daring message in response to whatever you had sent. But the phone remained silent. Intrigued, he opened the message thread. A look of amusement spread across his features as he read what you had sent to his rather persistent admirer:

"Consider your approach noted. Best of luck, but persistence doesn't always equate to success. - someone with a much better approach to courting Mycroft Holmes."

[girl-next-door-writes]

GIF by cheenault

The amazing @soupofmushrooms sent me this gif and I am happy to write a little Mycroft for you.

"Here again, brother mine?" Sherlock asked as he swept into the room, not at all surprised to see Mycroft already lounging in John's chair.

"We have matters to discuss." Mycroft glared at his little brother, who had been avoiding him for the past 24 hours.

"Oh. Mycroft. I didn't know you were here. Would you like a cup of tea?" You asked with a smile, entering the flat behind John, carrying a pastry box.

Mycroft's demeanour immediately shifted. "Of course." He smiled brightly his fingers twirling the handle of his umbrella as he looked at you.

"I'll put the kettle on. You want a custard tart? I picked up a few from the bakery down the road." You asked as you wandered into the kitchen, the elder Holmes straining to keep you in sight, much to the amusement of his brother.

"That would be perfection. Thank you."

"That would be perfection?" Sherlock looked at his brother with amusement. "I cannot believe that is truly you measure of perfection, Mycroft."

"Leave him alone, Sherlock." John chastised, trying to stifle his own amusement. "It isn't every day your brother has a crush on someone."

"What? That- This- I'm-" Mycroft tripped over his words, his brow pulling into a furrow as he frowned at John.

"Mycroft has a crush? Oh now, that truly is 'perfection'." Sherlock grinned, causing his brother to groan inwardly. This was going to be very trying and the chances of Sherlock agreeing to take the case he needed him too were becoming slimmer by the second.

[girl-next-door-writes]

GIF by imperial-martian

@savvy-devine666 always sends me the most brilliant gifs and this is no different. Right then, a little Mycroft seems in order.

This was not the way it was supposed to be. He was a man of logic, analytical to a fault, not swayed by emotions... so why could he not push aside this ache inside him?

Things between the two of you had gotten too familiar, become too loud and he had said things he had instantly regretted, not that his pride would let him admit it. There hadn't been a goodbye, no opportunity for him to apologise when cooler heads prevailed, you had simply exited from his life. It had returned to what it was before you, before these feelings and chaos. Only now it felt... empty.

His days were punctuated by your silence, his gut twisting as his mind chose to play his mistakes over and over in HD at the most inopportune moment. Mycroft found himself holding conversations with you in his head, anticipating your replies, although he knew you would always surprise him. Apologies, explanations, trapped forever in his head, clamouring for his attention, fighting against his pride.

Just over a week later, his heart had directed him to precisely where he needed to be. Standing by his car, he fidgeted nervously with his umbrella as he waited outside you place of employment. The words he had never meant to leave unsaid ran in a loop around his head, making his anxiety spike.

He was just contemplating how foolish this was, how you would react badly to this gesture, when he heard your voice calling his name. He looked up at you, his heart racing and a warmth building in his chest. Pulling on his usual mask of pomposity, he greeted you, opening the car door for you to climb inside. The words remained unsaid for now, but Mycroft was certainly aware that your absence from his life was intolerable.

[girl-next-door-writes]

One more Sammy

"Should we go help him?" You asked Dean, amusement lacing your voice as you watched Sam being flirted at.

"I don't know, he's gonna have to learn to deal with these things at some point." Dean shrugged, smirking, knowing full well Sam was trying to be polite because the woman had information but didn't want to lead her on.

"I'm going over."

"Spoilsport." Dean chuckled, knowing full well you couldn't help but intervene.

"Hey, sweetheart, I lost you for a moment there." You beamed at Sam, slipping an arm around his waist before turning to look at the woman innocently. You'd successfully conveyed that Sam was taken and now there was no possibility of her getting anything more from him, she gave up the information and you could all go on your way.

"Thank you for that." Sam said softly, his arm still draped over your shoulder as the two of you walked over to the Impala.

"No problem big guy, I figure it's part of my role, being the fake significant other to whichever Winchester needs it." You patted him on the ass and then climbed into the car.

"Fake... yeah..." Sam said softly to himself.

[girl-next-door-writes]

GIF by kjs-s

This was made and sent to me by my dear friend @kjs-s and I am eternally grateful every time I get a little something in my ask box, so here's a little Steven for you all.

This was still more than a little surreal to him, this kind of thing didn't happen to Steven, not ever. He kept waiting for the other boot to drop, for the 'gotcha' moment, and it just never came.

He never knew that he could feel like this, so happy and fizzing inside all the time. Had the grey skies always been such a beautiful shade? The rain so iridescent? His heart soared as he made his way back home, knowing that, once again, you would be waiting for him right there. His lips tingled with the anticipation of your kiss and his step was lighter as he navigated the busy streets.

The world around him seemed to move in such a perfect way, like an intricate dance that hastened him towards you as if you were the sun, the centre of his universe.

He was soaked by the time he stumbled through the door, but he didn't seem to notice. You had wrapped him in a towel, insisted he change into dry clothes and he had insisted you help with that task.

Now, the both of you sat on his bed laughing about nothing, he had never felt so content and well adjusted.

"I love you, goofball." You giggled, the words causing Steven to hide his face momentarily before asking you to repeat your words, words he would never tire of hearing. Words you would happily repeat over and over until he understood deep in his soul that you were not going anywhere.