#stephen holder fanfic

[violetmuses]

Clouds - Holder

TITLE: “Clouds” || A Stephen Holder Drabble

FANDOM: “The Killing” (AMC/Netflix Series)

CHARACTER: Homicide Detective Stephen Holder

MAIN STORYLINE: On rainy nights, all Holder wants is you… 

Author’s Note: Hey! Feedback would be greatly appreciated and thanks so much for reading as always. - V.  💜

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96  @skvatnavle @mayhem24-7forever @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @maddu-oliveira @tavners @thee-antler-queen @reveluving @floralcyanide

Main Masterlist 💜

__________

2012

More rain. It never ends here in Seattle. Thankfully, Stephen is already home with you by the time thunder rumbles again. 

Disheveled blankets. Cuddling in his arms. 

There’s no other feeling in the world. With dinner out of the way and that kitchen clean, you no longer have to think, just resting with your best friend. 

“Babe?” His voice is sleepy, drifting in or out of consciousness as gorgeous hazel eyes watch you for a moment. 

“What?” You mumble, still not wanting to consider anything important. Work drained you today, and it’s a miracle that even Holder could somehow leave the precinct earlier than midnight. 

“You’re so pretty.” Smiling and showing off that mustache, he dares to open the warm proximity found between your covered bodies. Soon after, this man angles his finger to tap your nose. 

“Thank you, but please let me sleep,” You whine back, readjusting that cuddle back with him. 

“Aight.” Kissing your forehead, Holder took off one of those signature hoodies and now lays with you in a t-shirt, feeling nothing short of peace. 

Just when you plan on sleeping again, lightning flashes in the bedroom window and you can’t help snuggling closer, hoping that Stephen will notice. 

“Sorry.” You look up at him, trying not to feel embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. I'm here. Promise.” This time, Holder caresses your face and smiles down, tickling you with the mustache. 

At least he’s around, rain or shine. 

[destinedtobeloved]

Bullet called the night she died. Angrily he had ignored it, scoffing as he puts his phone back in his pocket after he silenced it, memories of the day before where he had grabbed her by what felt like the scruff of her neck and thrown her outside of the station fresh in his mind, feeling anger coursing through his veins, causing a feeling similar to one that Meth had always given him.

‘I should’ve responded. I should’ve answered,’ he cried over and over, and Linden scurries to tell him it’s not his fault. He drunkenly sucks in breaths and tastes nothing but the burn of cigarette smoke in his mouth instead, the air polluted. His mind is destroying itself.

God fell asleep in the back seat. He does have a body on his grill.

He stands in the bathroom with the Sewerd kid, combing down his hair as he stands behind him, patiently using his hands gently to make sure he looks good enough for his father to see. He never gets there.

Caroline never knew about his addiction. Serenity is all he ever wanted. He wanted to be good, he tells her. ‘I wanted to be good.’

He chucks beer cans into the field full of un-marked graves next to the prison, his mind slowing down as he watches the liquid explode out of the thin metal, his arms tired from the smashing.

He talks to Kalies mom at the funeral, feeling like he had murdered Bullet with his own two hands. He feels thick matalic blood dripping off them as he sits in the pews. She died thinking he was mad at her. He could never be mad. Not at her. Not at Bullet. He visits her grave and traces her name that’s carved don’t the pretty white marble, placing her necklace ontop, knowing they she’d want that in the afterlife.

(‘What bullshit,’ he scoffs, trying to think of heaven for a girl who was always cast out. What bullshit.)

He walks away, leaving the grief of his past behind, but it follows him.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

🚦What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

FE MY WEREWOLF LOVE !!!! ty ily to the moon and back

🚦What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

happily ever after but left open-ended in case I wanna write more lol like, yeah, they're happy but something else could happen

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

oh geez, okay, obvs you Fe you're a delight. but anything by @a-reader-and-a-writer and @loverhymeswith who I've admired and loved since my Rick Flagg days. Vee is the queen of angst and Katy writes Stephen Holder like none other.

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

more often than I probably should lol i reread when I am really in need of some motivation or just a reminder of the little things i added that would be fun to repeat. I'll read and then I'll go through the comments on that chapter to remind myself of the love some of my work has received.

send in some fanfic writer asks, friends!

[loverhymeswith]

❛ don’t you know what you’re doing to me? ❜ With Stephen 🥰

Patience is a Virtue | Stephen Holder x F!Reader

Enough

Word count: 2,411 words

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, implied smut

A/N: Thank you to the lovely @a-reader-and-a-writer and @skvatnavle for beta reading, and to @babblydrabbly for the original idea that Reader should get her revenge on Holder after the video call with her parents! <3

Joel Taglist: @bewitchedignition @mayhem24-7forever @weallhaveadestiny @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @skvatnavle @christinasyellowflowers @11thstreetvigilante @yespolkadotkitty @lavenderluna10 @heresathreebee @immyownlittlebitch

The sun is slowly setting on what has been an unusually dry day in Seattle, casting the interior of the car in a warm orange glow. Despite the fact that you are supposed to be watching the hotel entrance for any sign of the suspect leaving, you can’t seem to take your eyes away from Holder. He’s slumped low in his seat, one arm folded across his chest as he sips his take-out soda, chewing on the straw thoughtfully. Unlike you, his attention seems to be fixed on the task at hand for once.

Although your feelings for him are no longer a secret, it’s still rare that you get the opportunity to sit and watch him like this. To study the angle of his jaw and the softness of his lips, the intensity of his gaze. In these quiet moments when it’s just the two of you alone together, you can feel your heart swell with gratitude for the fact that you get to call him yours – that, and another emotion you are not quite ready to put a label on.

After a few minutes have passed, Holder breaks the comfortable silence, his eyes still trained on the front of the hotel when he speaks. “Can feel you lookin’ at me.”

“What? I’m not looking at you.” You make a point to stare out of the window instead, a flush of heat burning your cheeks. The two of you have been intimate in more ways than you could have imagined over the last few months, but he still has the power to make you feel shy and flustered.

“You ain’t as subtle as you think, y’know. Can practically see you droolin’.”

“I’m not,” you repeat, keeping your attention on the building before you, even as you casually touch your finger to the corner of your mouth.

“Don’t worry mama, s'ok. I’m all yours, remember? You can look and you can touch.” He finally turns to face you, waggling his eyebrows to emphasise the point.

You lean back in your seat and cross your own arms, mirroring his body language. Despite a valiant effort, you can’t resist the temptation to smile. Thanks to Holder, you’ve been doing that a lot recently – smiling.

“Wouldn’t want to distract you.” You nod towards the hotel, but you sense that it might already be too late as you feel Holder’s focus turn to you instead. The weight of his attention prickles against your skin, tugging insistently at something deep within your chest.

“You should call in,” you suggest, before he can argue. “Find out where the relief team is. They should have been here to take over by now.”

If you’re being totally honest, you yearn for his touch. The two of you have been sitting here for hours now, ever the consummate professionals, but the desire to feel him under your skin is becoming too much to bear.

“Thought you liked bein’ stuck in a car with me,” he teases.

“I mean, we could be at home right now.” You raise an eyebrow pointedly.

His hazel eyes widen. “Oh snap, I feel you mama. Hold that thought. Lemme call ‘em.” Hurriedly, he digs out his cell phone and begins to dial the ops team.

It’s a struggle to keep the same smile from returning to your face as you listen to him pestering for an update. Every now and then he throws a pained expression your way, making it quite clear that he’s now just as eager to get home as you are.

“Twenty minutes.” He frowns finally, tossing his phone onto the back seat with a sigh. “Fuckin’ idiots. They forgot about us. Can you believe that?”

“It’s OK.” Your fingers ghost over his knee before reaching to swipe the drink from his hands. “I guess we’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Damn, I forgot how much I hate stakeouts.” Holder’s face is still creased with irritation as he slumps back in his seat and folds his arms again. Honestly, you’re a little irritated too, but unlike Holder you’re going to make the best of a bad situation.

“They’re not so bad.” You shrug, taking a sip of soda. “At least we got lunch this time. Do you remember our first stakeout together?”

“The Barton case last year, right?” he asks, eyeing you across the car. His legs have started bobbing where he sits, a sure sign that his patience is beginning to wear thin.

“That’s the one. I picked you straight up from the court case you were testifying on. Then we were stuck in the car for twelve hours.” Shuddering at the memory, you hand him back his drink. As your fingers brush his, you take in a deep and silent breath, willing yourself to wait just a little longer. You’ll be home before you know it.

“Y’know, I was pretty sure you was gonna kill me that day. Or at least put in a transfer request.” He smirks, clearly remembering your time spent trapped in the car just as well as you do.

“You didn’t stop talking for twelve hours, Holder,” you remind him with a grimace. “Twelve hours!”

He shrugs. “Ay, I talk a lot when I’m nervous a’ight?”

“What did you have to be nervous about?” You laugh, trying to recall if you noticed anything odd about his behaviour that day.

“You,” he responds, his expression turning serious for a moment. He rubs the back of his neck before elaborating. “I mean - bein’ in the car alone with you for all that time. Told you already, I had the hots for you back then. Was still tryin’ to decide if I should make a move.”

Your partner’s admission startles you. Back then, you never would have guessed that anything of the sort had been going through his head. He had seemed far too busy, talking your ears off all throughout the day and long into the night.

Fishing a carton of cigarettes from his coat pocket, Holder continues. “But you was lookin’ at me like you wanted to wrap your hands ‘round my throat.” He chuckles lightly at the memory. “So I figured hittin’ on you might not be a good idea.”

Still taken back by his revelation, you pause for a moment to look at him again. He’s being completely serious and you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had made a move that day. Sure, you were a little irritated by his inability to shut up, but his incessant chatter hadn’t been the only thing on your mind during the stakeout.

Your response, when it finally comes, is likely not what Holder has been expecting. “That was the first time I ever saw you out of a hoodie,” you tell him.

It had been quite the shock to find him coming down the steps of the courthouse in a dark grey suit and tie, and when he’d climbed into the car, you’d been lost for words. It turned out that he scrubbed up very well. Unlike his regular loose-fitting jeans and hoodie combination, the suit clung to him just right, emphasising the broad lines of his shoulders and the thick muscles of his thighs. And you had been shamefully staring at him, just like earlier today. It’s a miracle he hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah?” His lips quirk into a handsome smile. “You liked the suit?”

“I liked it a lot.”

Holder doesn’t seem to catch the deeper meaning behind your words. His attention has drifted back to the hotel and he’s starting to light his cigarette. A rush of heat floods your body as you remember just how good he looked in that suit, forcing the next statement out of your mouth before you can second guess yourself.

“It was probably the first time I thought you were hot.”

His eyes flick back to you, widening a fraction as your own admission sinks in. Then, with mock alarm, he pulls the cigarette from his mouth without lighting it. “You think I’m hot?” he teases.

“Of course I do,” you slap his arm playfully. “But back then, it kind of scared me.”

He considers this for a moment before returning the unlit cigarette to the packet. “Damn. All those hours in the car together and you were thinkin’ about me the whole time?”

He’s not entirely wrong.

“I thought you were hot,” you clarify, biting your lip. “I didn’t start thinking about you like that til much later.”

Legs bouncing beneath the wheel again, he studies you carefully. “Thinkin’ ‘bout me like what?”

Leaning back in your seat, you can feel the tension in your shoulders loosen, along with your inhibitions. For a while now, you’ve noticed that being with Holder brings you out of your shell - in more ways than one. You enjoy surprising him. You love seeing that look of awe that spreads across his face whenever you say or do something unexpected. And instinct tells you that the next words out of your mouth are going to have that very effect.

“Like imagining you fucking me over our desk.”

Just as you suspected, his jaw drops and after a beat of stunned silence he chokes out his response. “Yo - for real?”

A shy smile tugs at your lips and you nod. You hadn’t ever planned on telling him about that, but as usual, in these quiet moments when it’s just the two of you, you find yourself opening up to him.

“For real,” you assure him. “Remember when we got back from the D.A's office a couple of months ago?”

“Oh shit. You ain’t kiddin’. Knew you was lookin’ at me all kinds of weird that day. You seriously thought ‘bout me fuckin’ you like that?” Slowly his gaze darkens, making you wonder if he's having that very same thought right now.

You nod again, a flame of desire igniting within the pit of your stomach as you replay the fantasy in your own mind. While those startling daydreams might not have been entirely responsible for the two of you ending up together, they certainly played a part in opening you up to the idea of this – of him.

Holder has started to shift uncomfortably, his watch on the hotel almost entirely forgotten. “Fuck, you can’t drop a bombshell like that on me when I can’t do anythin’ ‘bout it,” he grumbles, throwing his head against the back of his seat as he checks his watch. “Where the hell are these guys?”

With a start, you realise that he’s flustered. Just as flustered as he makes you feel on a regular basis. The shift of power sparks a thrill that runs through your entire body. Tearing your eyes away from him, you return your attention to the building, all the while wondering how you can take advantage of this new situation you’ve found yourself in.

“They'll be here soon,” you assure him.

“Not soon enough,” Holder groans, eyes shuttering. “I gotta get you home.”

“Oh?” A coy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “What are you going to do when you get me home, Stephen?”

“Nope. Don’t start that,” he whines, shifting in his seat again with another pained expression. “Not when I can’t touch you.”

You have implemented a very strict rule about keeping your hands off one another when you’re on the job, not least to prevent anyone seeing the two of you, but also to avoid any distractions. Now however, you can’t help but regret it. There’s nothing you’d like more in this moment than to run your hand along his thigh and feel the way he trembles beneath your touch.

“Should I tell you what I’m going to do?” you suggest, careful to keep an innocent tone to your voice, despite your thoughts being anything but.

“Fuck,” he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “What you gonna do?”

Leaning in close - so close he can feel your breath fan across his jaw – you begin to whisper. “I’m going to use these lips…” you brush them over his skin, just the ghost of a kiss, “… to make you feel really good.”

Holder lets out a strangled moan beside you. Instinctively, you glance down at his jeans and find them already straining over his hardening length. A pulse of wicked delight fills your chest.

“Do you want to know what else I’m going to do?”

“Think you’re gonna kill me baby but fuck yeah,” he urges. “Tell me what else you’re gonna do?”

Before you can answer, an unmarked car rounds the corner. Recognising the driver, you release a silent cheer; it’s about time. To your amusement and delight, Holder already has the engine running before the relief team finishes pulling up behind you.

“Halle -fuckin’-lujah,” he grunts, now speeding off in the direction of his apartment.

“You still want to know what else I’m going to do?” you murmur softly. It’s at least another twenty minutes before you’ll make it home, even without traffic, and you’re having fun making him sweat.

“Yes,” he grinds out, fingers clutching the wheel tightly as he studiously keeps his eyes on the road.

“I’m going to take off all your clothes. And then mine...”

Fingers tightening even further around the steering wheel, he clenches his jaw. “Damn mama, don’t you know what you’re doin’ to me?”

“I have a pretty good idea.” Grinning, your eyes drift back to his straining erection. You just can’t help yourself any longer. Reaching over, you gently run the tip of your finger along the side of his thigh. He shudders and moans beneath your touch, but his sounds of pleasure are quickly replaced by a sudden curse as he runs a red-light.

“Holder!” you chastise, although you know full well that you’re really the one to blame.

He flashes you a slightly sheepish expression. "S'ok baby. The traffic cops owe me one. We good."

"Huh.” You shrug, another wicked idea slowly coming to your mind. “So… you don't want me to book you?"

When he looks at you with his brow creased in confusion, you reach out to him again. This time, struggling to hide your amusement, you slip your hand beneath his hoodie and run your finger along the smooth cold metal of the handcuffs at his belt.

It only takes him a second to catch up.

“Fuck, baby. Now you’re really tryin’ to kill me.”

[greymoonfeelings]

My Gift Is You

12 Days of Christmas: day 7

pairing: Stephen Holder x Fem! Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Holder feels guilty about how many hours he’s been clocking in at work, so he surprises you.

warnings: oral sex (male receiving), throat fucking, and a few degrading names.

Tags: @reysorigins

~~~

Today was Holder's first day off in nearly a month. He had opportunities before but had passed up on them in favor of getting overtime. He knew it upset you every time he had to say “Sorry, I picked up a shift today” but he was hoping to make up for it today with a gift.

In order for Holder’s plan to work, you would need to be out of the house for a bit. When the two of you talked about plans for the day, you told him you were getting your nails done later and would be gone for half an hour, making it the perfect opportunity.

The two of you spend the morning cuddled up together, relaxing, watching reruns of 90s sitcoms. When the time comes for you to leave, Holder tries to act as casual as possible, but inside he’s buzzing.

As soon as he sees your car leave the lot, he runs to your shared bedroom and pulls out a plastic bag that he had hidden under his side of the bed. The bag contains some tall candles, red rose petals, a big present bow, and a small red velvet box.

Holder puts a few pieces of charcoal in the fireplace and lights it before he places the candles around the living room.

He moves the coffee table to the side of the room and lays down two fluffy blankets on the carpet for you to cuddle on later. He grabs the box of rose petals that he had bought at the floral shop a few days earlier and throws them around the blanket to make it look more romantic.

Holder returns to the bedroom to complete the last item on his list of things to do. He pulls off his navy blue hoodie and tank top, throwing them into the dirty laundry bin. Next, pulls off his boxers and jeans, putting them in the bin too.

Now that he’s left completely naked, he picks up the large green and red plaid gift bow that he’d left on the comforter. He peels off the backing, revealing the adhesive, and presses the bow to his body, perfectly placed so the ribbon covers his dick.

He waits until he thinks you’re almost home before he lights the candles in hopes of not burning the apartment down. When he’s done, he hurries back to the bedroom and waits for your arrival.

When the front door opens and shuts, he hears your keys hit the entrance table and your shoes thud against the floor.

“Stephen, I thought I told you, you can’t light candles and then take a nap! This place is gonna burn down.”

“I’m comin’!”

He walks down the hall casually, the ribbon swaying slightly as he makes his way towards you. When one of the floorboards creeks under his weight, you turn around to face him.

You notice he’s shirtless and your eyes trail down the rest of his body. When you realize he’s only wearing the plaid bow you shake your head in disbelief.

“What are you doing?”

“Got you an early Christmas present, Shorty.” Holder holds up his arms, turning around to show off his naked body.

“You’re ridiculous,” You chuckle.

“C’mon, aren’t you gonna open it?” He motions down to his lower half.

“Do you have a gift receipt? I think I’d like to return it.”

“C’mon, quit playin’. You know you want it.”

“It does look like a pretty good present.”

You sink to your knees in front of your boyfriend so you’re eye level with the bow covering his dick. You hold onto a thigh with one hand and use the other to run down the expanse of his chest, stopping right above the bow. The long ribbons in the front start to slowly rise as his erection grows.

“Looks like my present is gonna open itself.” You look up at Holder and wink before turning your attention back to the “gift”.

You finally pull the ribbon off, tossing it aside as you take his cock in your hand. You stroke it a few times, running over the head softly with the pad of your thumb until his cock is standing achingly hard.

Holder’s gaze bores into you as you lick the underside of his cock from base to tip. You continue by tracing over each of his veins with the tip of your tongue while looking up at him with a look of fake innocence.

Next, you bring your attention to his cockhead, giving it a little kiss before taking it into your mouth. You suck on the reddened tip, trying to force the beads of precum out before you switch to savoring it by running the tip of your tongue through his slit.

Holder throws his head back, releasing a guttural moan as you take more of his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you do so.

One of your freshly manicured hands wraps around the part of his shaft that you haven’t been able to get to yet and the other grabs one of Holder’s and brings it to the back of your head, encouraging him to tangle it in your hair.

Holder creates a makeshift ponytail and braces himself against the kitchen pillar as you throat his cock. He tries to stifle his moans until your nails dig into his thigh and you look up at him through your lashes, silently telling him to stop holding back.

He quickly lets his mouth hang open and groans as you bob along his shaft and pump it with your soft hands.

“Feels so good, princess. Need more.”

You’re happy to oblige and the next time you go down, you’re able to take almost all of him. Your throat contracts around his length, causing your eyes to water and drool to dribble down your chin.

Holder continues to grunt and swear as his hips jerk forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. The surprise jolt causes you to gag more as tears fall down your face.

Realizing he may have gone too far, your boyfriend loosens his grip on your hair and tries to take his cock out of your mouth. You pull off of it with a pop and sit back on your heels, looking up at him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as you wipe some of the spit off your chin.

“I ain’t tryna hurt you, this was supposed to be your present, sweet cheeks.”

“I would let you know if you were hurting me, babe. Plus, this is what I want my gift to be. I love having your cock in my mouth.” You smile at him sweetly.

“You sure?”

“Get over here and fuck my face.” You get back on your knees, wrap your arms around the top of Holder’s thighs and pull him closer to you.

You relax your jaw as your boyfriend uses his tight grip on your hair to guide his cock down your throat until your nose is rubbing against the curly hair at his base.

“You’re so sexy,” Holder groans as he watches more drool run down your face.

He holds your head still as he pulls his dick almost completely out before thrusting it back in. The warm muscles of your throat flex around his hard length. You breathe through your nose to avoid gagging violently as he sets a somewhat steady pace.

You grab onto the soft flesh of his thighs, trying to keep yourself from falling over from the sheer force at which he plunges into your mouth. His cockhead nearly bruises the back of your throat as he fucks your face.

The next time he pulls back, you stick out your tongue so you can lick the underside of his cock each time that he thrusts back in.

“Feels so fucking good, baby girl. Wonder who taught you how to do this? I’d thank ‘em, but then I’d have to fight them for knowing what you look like drooling on a cock that isn’t mine.”

Your moan at Holder’s filthy words and the vibrations run straight through his cock causing it to twitch, signaling his impending orgasm.

“Such a good little cockwhore, sitting there all pretty while I use you to get myself off. You love it don’t you? Love having my cock in your mouth?”

You try to respond with a “yes” but the noise is gargled so instead Holder pulls away from your mouth, tugging at his length to keep himself going as you answer him.

“I love it so much. Please cum in my mouth. I wanna taste you.” You lean forward, trying to chase after his dick.

“If you want it so bad, work for it.” He growls.

Holder grabs one of your hands and brings it to replace his that’s moving along his shaft. You do as you're told, pumping his thick cock before taking it into your mouth a final time.

You use your lips to stroke his length as you bob along it. Your tongue continues focusing on his sensitive tip, circling it and collecting his pearly precum. The entire time you keep eye contact with him to enjoy the way his eyes flutter closed at the intense pleasure.

“Just like that.”

Your one hand continues to twist around the last few inches of his cock and your other hand goes to massage his balls, hoping the stimulation will push him over the edge. You cup them, jostling them back and kneading them.

Holder takes your head in his hands once more and with a final thrust, he releases down your throat.

You rush to swallow all of his cum, savoring the salty taste. The contraction of your throat as you swallow around his cock causes Holder to wince and pull his now soft member out of your warm mouth.

You gaze over at him and smile with pride at the blissful look on his face as your boyfriend leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

“You’re quite a mess for someone who didn’t have a dick in their mouth for the past fifteen minutes.” You laugh breathlessly.

Holder shakes his head and smiles, pulling you off your knees. He carries you over to the blanket he had laid out in front of the fireplace previously, and sets you down.

You sit with your chest against his back, watching the flames dance as his arms wrap around your torso. The two of you lay there holding each other until he clears his throat.

“I got somethin’ for you, a gift.”

“If it’s your dick again I’m going to need at least five minutes to recover.”

Holder shakes his head, “It’s not that. It’s a real gift.” He reaches in between the couch cushions and pulls out the velvet box he had hidden earlier.

“I know this ain’t any movie type of romantic, but I’m terrible at big gestures.”

He opens the red box and holds it up for you to look at.

“It’s beautiful,” You gasp.

“I know I've been working so much lately, but I’ve been tryna save up for this for a long time.”

You twist around to face your boyfriend, hoping to assure him that you understood.

“You’re the best thing in my life, baby girl. I can’t imagine what I’d do without you. I know this isn’t as good as you deserve, but I was hoping you would take the risk and marry a fool like me.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I will!”

You throw your arms around his neck and give him a big squeeze. When you pull away your eyes are watering and you notice that his eyes are glossy too.

“I love you so much, Stephen. A future with you isn’t a risk, it’s all I want, baby. I would be happy to marry you.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Yes! Now hurry up and put that ring on my hand. I wanna show it off to everyone so they know I have the best fiancé in the world.”

“Sorry, it ain’t too big of a diamond.” Holder flashes you an apologetic look as he slips the ring onto your left hand.

“It’s perfect because you gave it to me and it symbolizes your love for me. I would wear a rubber band around my finger as long as you gave it to me.”

[reveluving]

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a/n:

Fem!reader as I have grown accustomed to the style.

Asterisks (*) indicates smut so this masterlist is for 18+ ONLY! like, a lot. so MINORS, DNI! Please, I can’t stress this enough!

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[christinasyellowflowers]

Serenity | Stephen Holder

Stephen Holder x F!Reader

Summary: Y/n brings Stephen his suit, that he'd bought a few sizes bigger, after fixing it.

Warnings: I write Holder for the first time. Might be out of character? Other than that none!

Note:  English is not my native language so beware there may be grammar or spelling mistakes. I was too eager to post this, meaning I didn’t bother to proofread it. I might do it afterwards.

Tags: @loverhymeswith​ 

Do not repost please!

Feedback is appreciated!

It was a typical day in Seattle, cold and depressing, when Y/N opened her front door with a storage bag and her pink sewing basket in her hands. It's been three weeks since her neighbor, Detective Holder, had asked her to fix one his work suits. He'd admitted that he bought it in such a hurry, he hadn't even noticed it was three sizes bigger until he had washed them.

“How could you not notice, though?” Y/N frowned in confusion, watching the lanky detective pacing in circles like a penguin in the navy suit.

“Got a phone call 'bout a new lead, and I had to run, ya know.” he shrugged, stopping before her. “Will you fix it, li'l sugar.”

Despite the fact that she found his excuse sketchy, she agreed to adjust the suit to his measurements. Besides sitting in front of a sewing machine while being surrounded by all kinds of materials and clothes was her job. And, of course, she wouldn't turn down an opportunity like this.

Although the times he hang out with her were rare due to his line of work, Y/n enjoyed his company immensely. He was honest, direct, and his silly jokes never failed to make her giggle. And even though his dark past was known to her, she couldn't help but develop feelings for him.

“Here goes.” she muttered to herself before knocking on the door. Stephen answered the door almost immediately.

“There's my girl!” he exclaimed cheerfully. “Come on in, neighbor.”

Y/N smiled and mumbled a small 'Hello' in return.

“Is something wrong?” Holder asked concerned.

“Just a little tired.” she reassured him, before handing him the the plastic bag. “Here. Put it on.”

“Straight to business, hey.” he said. “Don't you want something to eat? Drink?”

“Maybe later. Now, go change. I wanna make sure I did a proper job.”

“I'll be right back.” he poked her shoulder as he took the bag from her.

Y/N bit her lower lip while she watched him disappear in his bedroom. She had never seen him wear anything other baggy jeans and hoodies. Honestly, the perfect attire to much his personality. However, she highly believed that he would rock the heck out of a suit.

“Would you look at that. I was right!” she nodded to herself, when Holder emerged from his room. No tank top underneath the white cotton shirt, buttoned up halfway, and the light blue tie resting unlaced upon his shoulders.

“'bout what?”

“You look-” Hot as hell. “-great!” she complimented.

“I always look great, mama.” he titled his head, smiling slyly.

“Sure thing, Esteban.” she mimicked his expression, before getting to work. She noticed three loose buttons on the shirt, and while she expressed her annoyance to him for sewing those in a hurry yesterday, she was vividly glad on the inside. It was a nice view. His pale chest with barely any hair visible, and the black ink forming the word 'Serenity' on it.  

“Like what you see, baby?” he teased as he followed her gaze.

“I do. Very much, may I add.” she said, hiding her sincere answer with her sarcastic tone. “Can you take it off so I can sew them properly.”

“Do it yourself, sugar.” he told her, expanding his arms like a hawk in the air.

You little piece of shit.

Her eyes shifted from his hazel eyes to his tattooed chest twice, before she began undoing his shirt under his intensive gaze. Her stare was fixed on the ink, as she moved her fingers in a slow pace. If his goal was to make her feel uncomfortable for whatever reason, he succeeded. Of course, she wouldn't flatter him no further, by showing her discomfort. After all, she exceptionally good at hiding her feelings.

“Have you found it, then?” she asked, looking up at him when she opened the last button.

“What?”

“Serenity.” she explicated. “The ink in your other tattoos is faded in addition to this one, indicating it's more recent.”

Her right hand found it's way up, and her fingers roamed gently on his chest on impulse as she continued to speak more to herself, it would seem.

“Are you serene now that you've been clean for over a year, or perhaps...” she trailed off. She shook her head lightly, without finishing the sentence and as she began to remove her hand, Stephen took a hold of her wrist with on hand, while the other cloaked around her throat. He didn't squeeze her though.

Her eyes snapped upwards instantly in fright. She was well aware of his anger management issues, and how absurdly he could snap. Presuming that either the words she uttered or the physical touch affected him in a bad way, she parted her lips ,ready to apologize.  

What escaped Y/n's mouth however, weren't words but a justified yelp of pure surprise when Holder's lips collided with hers. Even though his lips were gentle and delicate against own, Y/n could feel a desperation hidden behind it. A desperation she couldn't quiet determine.  

Stephen released his gentle grip from her neck, sliding down until it reached her waist. He pulled Y/n into his embrace with so much force, resulting Y/n to loose her balance and step on his bare toes. In an attempt to maintain her balance, as well as his own, without breaking the kiss they, they ended up falling.

“Ow!” Y/n cried out in pain. Whilst Holder fell on his back, Y/n banged her forehead against the coffee table before landing next to him.

“Damn, Y/n you okay?” Holder asked worriedly, cupping her face.

“No!” she groaned. “The edge barely missed my eye. What if I lost my eye?”

“Come on, now.” he chuckled, helping her on her feet. “Don't be such a child, mama.”

“Right, sorry. I forgot that acting like a child is your job, Esteban.”

“'scuse me?” he asked in disbelief. “I'm the definition of mature, baby.��

She gave him an amusing look, before bursting into laughter increasing his annoyance.

“Stop laughing at me, or you'll regret it.”

Instead of stopping or throwing a remark, she continued laughing.

“Seriously, will you shut up?” he snapped, glaring at her.

“Only if you make me.” she sang.

“Oh, you naughty girl.” his glare was instantly replaced with a smirk, as he pulled her into him once more.

It wasn't long before his white shirt landed on the floor, wrinkled, but fix it was the last thing either of them cared about.

~~

[save-the-flying-unicorns]

Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: The Killing Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephen Holder & Sarah Linden Characters: Stephen Holder, Sarah Linden, Lt. Erik Carlson Additional Tags: Murder Mystery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Suspense, Case Fic, Explicit Language, allusions to drug use, Addiction, Implied Drug Use, Seattle Summary:

A new murder case is personal to Holder, Linden tries to help him stay on course, and the ensuing investigation twists and turns and uncovers secrets.

[violetmuses]

WAHH! 🥺😭🥂👰🏿 @lacontroller1991

I would've loved to marry him! 💍

Suit and Tie (Stephen Holder x F!Reader)

"If you're uncomfortable you can tell me" requested by @babblydrabbly and "I've never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time" requested by @a-reader-and-a-writer

Main Master List

Writing Prompt Master List

Reassurance Drabbles

150 Random Prompts

Warnings: Smoking

==========

Stephen takes another hit of his cigarette before flicking the butt to the ground as he looks into the floor length mirror before fiddling with his tie. It feels tight, too tight, he notes to himself as he loosens it around his neck before immediately fixing it.

Normally Stephen Holder is cool and calm and collected, but not today. Not when today is his wedding day.

"I've never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time," your voice stirs him out of this thoughts as he quickly turns around and sees you standing there, your white dress hugging your frame and your makeup done to perfection. Holder gawks at you.

"I thought 'm not supposed to see you. Somethin' bout bad luck," he comments, walking over to you and pulling you into his arms, kissing your forehead. "You look gorgeous. Can't believe how lucky I am," you smile and pull away, looking him over.

"Your tie is messed up," your hands reach up and adjust the piece of fabric, very aware of the way Holder gulps as a bead of sweat drips down the side of his neck. "You know, if you're uncomfortable, you can tell me."

He sighs and turns away, looking back to the mirror as your arms wrap around his midsection. "We can always push this back. Get married in a courthouse."

"You kiddin? Ain't no way that's gonna happen. I know how important this is for you. I know how bad you want this wedding."

"Steph, if you don't wanna do it, I won't be bothered. It'd be okay."

"Nah, I'm just nervous to marry you. Never thought I would."

"In a good way, or bad way?" You tease, reaching up and pressing a kiss to his vein. "I'm nervous to marry you too. I mean, you are the man of my dreams."

Holder's breath hitches in his throat as he catches you watching him through the mirror, nothing but sheer love could be described in your eyes, and suddenly, all of Holder's nerves fly away. "How about we go ahead and get this show on the road. I want to be married to you."

"You sure, baby?" Holder turns around in your grasp and presses a loving kiss to your painted lips.

"I've never been more sure in my entire life."

==========

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes @niki-xie

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @knivesareout @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @edwardbaldwin @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @klmurr @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @sociiallydiisoriiented

[violetmuses]

“Lately” || A Stephen Holder One Shot (18+ MINORS DNI)

TITLE: “Lately” || A Stephen Holder One Shot (18+ MINORS DNI)

FANDOM: “The Killing” (AMC/Netflix Series)

CHARACTER: Homicide Detective Stephen Holder

PAIRING: Female Reader + Stephen Holder

MAIN STORYLINE: Sometimes, drifting away might be the only option. 

Author’s Note: Here’s my angst with Stephen! As a warning, this One-Shot also includes SMUT content. (18+ Minors DNI) Adult themes, strong language, etc.

Main Masterlist 💜

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96   @mayhem24-7forever @fangirl0917 @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @ed-baldwin

___________

2012

“Yo, it's me. Baby?” His voice calls out to you as he uses one long-time given key to enter this shared apartment. On the other hand, you keep that bedroom door slightly ajar, but don’t respond right away, still packing your favorite suitcase. 

“In here.” You answer him at last, zipping up that suitcase in question and setting this luggage down onto the bedroom floor. Overhead lights prove dim enough to almost feel black, but you know better than to keep Holder in shadows at night. 

“Hey….I…what’s going on?” He knocks on the doorway, but folds both sleeved arms, wearing another sweatshirt with jeans and sneakers to beat Seattle chill once more. 

“I’m out of here, Stephen.” It isn’t long before you nearly deadpan this response in an effort to stay leveled. Showing too much emotion would’ve rattled your own nerves, especially since you’ve quietly worried about him over the past few months. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” The concern found in his perfect hazel eyes would’ve usually shattered your own heart. 

Not anymore. 

This entire time you had understood his job completely, but now, it was as if he just treated you like some kind of roommate. 

Too many close calls. Too many hospital visits. Too many nights sitting alone and waiting in the living room for nothing. To make matters worse, him keeping you in the dark never felt like safety. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” You clear your throat, rolling your suitcase forward until it finally reaches Holder’s eyesight. 

“Do what? Talk to me, Mama. What’s wrong?” His words nearly trembled again as Holder struggles. Even you flinch away as he tries to reach and smooth your opposite arm. 

“You barely eat after coming home. You sleep in the guest room now. You toss your sweatshirt in the washer and watch basketball games without even talking to me. We’re just here, no longer connected. What am I supposed to do?” You admit the truth, no matter how difficult it feels. 

“Look, I’m sorry. You don’t have to leave. Things aren’t easy now, but you really don’t have to leave. Please?” Holder then sets both hands into his pockets while facing and steps back, struggling to answer once more. 

“Actions speak louder than words, Stephen.” You utter his first name, fed up without yelling out loud. Other tenants surely aimed for peace and quiet this evening. “Besides, my flight’s booked for tomorrow morning.” 

“Where would you go?” He furrows his brow, lowering the voice that usually would’ve melted you from top to bottom. 

“Why does it matter?” You defend yourself and of course there’s no other choice. “I’ve already talked to our landlord about this, too. Covered the rent until next year, too, okay? You’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t care about the rent.” Stephen tries to persuade you again, gently catching your wrist this time without causing too much harm. “All I want is you.” 

“Haven’t acted like it.” You respond, even as he slowly pulls you in to nearly embrace against his clothed chest. Even that grip on your suitcase almost immediately falls off, leaving the luggage to fall onto carpet of the living room. 

Standing nose to nose as Stephen nearly towers your height, you feel the warmth of his body. His own breaths calm you. Even nagging thoughts quiet down. You then remember the first time you met him, in the same Seattle rain plummeting now.

“Come back. I’m sorry.” I love you. I love you so much.” He opens enough space between each of you and caresses your face with both hands. 

“I love you, too.” You’re now leaning in for this kiss and no longer hesitate, soon joining his lips with your own to accept that apology. 

_________

He sweetly offers to use a condom before laying you down on the bed and plunging into your core without fail. He fits like a glove for the first time in weeks, naked above you and shadowing dark nk of never-ending tattoos right onto your body. 

Despite every accented thrust inside of you, his own kisses now feel slow and purposeful along your skin. 

“I’m sorry.” Stephen whispers to you over and over again and he knows just how close this breakup had been. He knows better now. 

“I forgive you.” You tremble beneath. No one else even thought about him like this and you would always remember how much society failed this man. Your beautiful man. 

Stephen’s pace stutters above you before he can even realize it and he spills into the condom, almost heaving as sweat falls onto your joined bodies. 

“Hey,” Stephen grins against your lips, ghosting another sweet kiss that doesn’t quite meet your own lips now. 

“Hi,” You mumble back towards him, deliciously exhausted. Between the shadows of this bedroom, he still rests within your core, but then reaches out to gently caress your face. 

Tresses of your own hair fall out of place and his finger moves to set it back in form. Those perfect hazels return to make eye contact and bore right into your soul.

“I’ll do better. Promise.” His voice is lower than usual, but you silently accept his vow and fall asleep in his safe arms minutes later. 

[loverhymeswith]

For the 300 follower celebration, with the characters from Holder Verses Love, the prompt "You know me better than I know myself." Please and thank you! 💖

Holder Versus Love - Part 2 | Stephen Holder x F!Reader

Holder Versus Love - Part 1

A/N: Thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for your help and reassurance with the plot!

Warnings: Drinking, smoking, language

Word Count: 2,000 words

Stephen stands hidden by the rose bushes, tugging uncomfortably at the ugly tie around his neck as he smokes his third cigarette in a row. He’s been outside for a while now, escaping the chaos that’s happening inside, all the while wondering whether coming here today might have been a huge mistake. If anyone else had asked he would have turned them down in an instant - weddings are not his scene - but he’s never been able to say no to you.

Technically, he’s supposed to be your date, but thanks to a combination of maid of honour duties and your sister turning into Bridezilla (no surprises there), he’s hardly seen you all day. Of course, that might be for the best, because on the few occasions that you’ve been able to tear yourself away from the bride and her constant stream of demands, he’s struggled to take his eyes off you - a sight for sore eyes in that dusky pink dress, the silk material clinging to your curves just right.

Stubbing out the cigarette against the wall, he hits the brakes on his train of thought before he can get carried away. You’re his best friend; he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. But ever since Valentine’s Day he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. Thank goodness that you failed to hear the words that tumbled from his lips that evening. The admission that, despite his refusal to believe in love and relationships, you’ve been right under his nose this whole time.

Stephen is just considering lighting a fourth cigarette when the venue door opens and soft music drifts out into the night. Glancing around the corner of the bushes, he’s greeted by the sight of your sister bustling into the gardens in her huge white dress. She spots him straight away, raising an eyebrow as she makes a beeline for him.

“What are you doing hiding out here?”

“Ain’t hidin’,” he lies, affecting a casual tone. “’m havin’ a smoke. What are you doin? Shouldn’t you be back in there with your husband and guests?”

“I needed some fresh air.” She shrugs, and Stephen has to admit that she does look exhausted. “Got a smoke?”

He fishes out his cigarettes, offering her the packet and a light before taking one for himself. Having been your friend for years, Stephen knows your sister well, but it’s rare for the two of them to talk when you’re not around. While he appreciates her fierce loyalty towards you, he can’t help but find her to be loud and brash and sometimes more than a little obnoxious – everything that you’re not.

“You know you’re a shitty date, right?” she accuses now, exhaling a large cloud of smoke into the night.

“Huh?”

She points to the door. “My sister’s in there, having to dance with Robbie’s cousins because you’re too busy hiding out here.”

“Told you, I ain’t hidin’,” he lies again between drags of the cigarette. “She knows I don’t dance. And I’m doin’ her a favour - she don’t want me crampin’ her style. Weddin’s are a great place to find a hook-up, right?”

Even as the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could take them back – he hates the slightest suggestion that you might meet someone tonight. Since the breakup with Dick Chris in February, you haven’t started seeing anyone new. While that’s been a relief for Stephen as he comes to terms with his feelings for you, he also knows it’s only a matter of time. One day you will meet someone special. One day he might even find himself a guest at your wedding – that is, if he gets an invite. The two of you haven’t been hanging out as much as you used to.

“Sounds like an excuse to me.” Your sister shakes her head before pointing her cigarette in his direction. “What’s going on with you two, anyway?” she continues, narrowing her gaze. “You know she called me the other night in tears thinking she’d done something to upset you?”

Stephen’s heart lurches. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Something about you cancelling plans again. I told her that you’d probably just found yourself a girlfriend. I mean, it’s about time. But she was really upset. I know you’re just friends, but you should tell her if you’re seeing someone. Don’t leave her thinking she’s done something wrong.”

It’s Stephen’s turn to shake his head, his chest tightening with the knowledge that he’s hurt you. “I ain’t seein’ anyone.”

The truth is, he has been cancelling your plans, but it has nothing to do with you. This is all on him. He’s been finding it too painful to be around you lately. How is he supposed to sit by your side during movie night and act as if nothing has changed, when in reality, all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you? It’s a unique brand of torture and selfishly, he has been trying to spare himself from the agony.

Your sister eyes him suspiciously. “Well, whatever’s going on, you better sort your shit out. I like you, Stephen, but nobody hurts my little sister, ok?”

He nods, watching as she stubs out the cigarette with her dainty white shoe, before turning on her heel with a flourish and heading back to her wedding.

Exhaling his own large breath of smoke, Stephen leans against the wall and tugs at his tie again.

Fuck.

Your sister is right – he has been hiding out here.

What is he doing? How could he have been so blind to the fact that he’s been hurting you with his distance? And for what? A foolish attempt to protect himself and your friendship. Because if he’s honest, he’s been miserable, too.

Pushing off the wall, he wanders over to the window and peers inside. He spots you instantly, standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching the other couples with an unreadable expression on your face and a half-full glass of champagne in hand. His chest tightens at the sight. You shouldn’t be alone. You should be smiling and having fun. And he doesn’t want to wait around for another Dick, or one of Robbie’s cousins, to put that smile on your face.

Dropping his cigarette, he heads inside.

When you notice Stephen approaching, your lips lift into a faint, uncertain smile. “Hey.”

“Hey. Can we talk?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he takes your glass and places it on the tray of a passing waiter. Then, he takes both of your hands in his and leads you onto the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” You glance up at him in surprise, even as you allow him to pull you into the crowd of other couples.

A slow piano ballad has just begun to play, and he raises your hands, placing them on his shoulders, before his own find your waist. The silk of your dress is soft beneath his fingers, and he can feel the warmth of your body through the thin material. It’s the first time he’s held you like this. He hopes it won’t be the last.

“What I should’a been doin’ all day,” he mutters into you ear, drawing you in closer.

“But you hate dancing.”

“I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout dancin’. I mean this…” he squeezes your waist ever so slightly. “Spendin’ time with you, not hidin’ outside.”

“Why were you hiding?”

Although he can’t see your face, Stephen can clearly picture your brow creasing in confusion and he feels your fingers tighten on his shoulders. He pauses for a moment before answering, watching your fellow guests as they sway in one another’s arms, not a care in the world.

“Cos I’ve been scared.”

You stiffen in his arms. “Scared of what?”

Releasing the breath that he’s been holding for the last six months, the words finally fall freely from his mouth. “My feelin’s for you.”

A few seconds pass while those words sink in and then you’re pulling back to look up at him, your eyes wide and wary. “What – what do you mean?”

Somewhat reassured by the way your hands are still squeezing his shoulders, he continues, but his eyes fix on a spot on the wall, knowing that he can’t bear to see your face inevitably fall. One way or another, what he’s about to tell you will change everything.

“On Valentine’s Day, it hit me. Everythin’ you said… well… you’re that person, for me. The one I’m always gonna make time for, the one who makes me smile, the one who makes me believe in crazy, stupid things like… love.”

When he dares to look at you again, it’s clear that you’re speechless; stunned. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, but there’s no backing out now.

“I was so scared of tellin’ you and ruinin’ our friendship, but I figured I’ve managed to do that anyway, huh?” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry I’ve been distant… and I’m sorry if this means we can never go back to the way things were before, but I can’t let you think you did somethin’ wrong or that I didn’t want to spend time with you. God…it’s the fuckin’ opposite. I want to spend all my time with you. Only you.”

Your bottom lip trembles and your eyes fill with tears. Stephen has no idea if this is a good sign, but he clutches your waist tighter, afraid to let you go. “Say somethin?” he pleads.

“I … I don’t know what to say.”

He laughs nervously, realising that the two of you have frozen in the centre of the dancefloor, but no one seems to be paying any attention. “Say anythin’… say you don’t feel the same way. Just don’t say we can’t be friends anymore, a’ight? You - you know me better than I know myself. You’re the best thing in my life and even if you never see me the way I see you, I can’t lose you.”

Ever so slowly, your hand rises from his shoulder to stroke his cheek. “You’ll never lose me, Stephen.”

He blinks, still not entirely sure whether he has fucked everything up, but as you start speaking again, your hand remains a comforting weight against his cheek.

“I was terrified I’d done something to push you away. You kept cancelling our plans. And then when my sister suggested you’d started dating someone… well, that’s when I realised. I was jealous. I didn’t want you to be with anyone else.”

“Jealous?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

You nod. “I think I took for granted the idea that you would always be around, that you would always want to hang out, just the two of us. For that, I’m sorry. And when I look back at the guys I was dating, it’s obvious. I’ve been sabotaging myself by going out with those assholes – by starting relationships that were never going to work. It’s like I knew, deep down, that the person I really wanted was by my side all along. That the person I really wanted was – is - you.”

It’s Stephen’s turn to be stunned into silence.

“I don’t know why it took me so long to see it…” You gaze up at him through tear-stained eyes, but gradually, your expression changes until gone is the uncertainty and the fear, replaced instead by that familiar, beautiful smile of his best friend. And it grips him by the heart, especially when he hears the next words that leave your mouth. “I’ve loved you for the longest time, Stephen. And even though I’m terrified of losing what we have, I’m even more scared of not trying. I don’t want to stand back and watch you find someone else.”

Stephen’s hand, shaking, rises from your waist to cup the back of your head. “There won’t ever be anyone else for me.” And then, slowly, he closes the remaining distance between you, before pressing his lips to yours.

Joel Taglist: @weallhaveadestiny @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @yespolkadotkitty @skvatnavle @heresathreebee @fairchildflag @11thstreetvigilante @katjnordstrom96 @mayhem24-7forever @kirsteng42 @christinasyellowflowers @bewitchedignition @s-u-t @immyownlittlebitch @lavenderluna10

[greymoonfeelings]

Merry Christmas, Ya filthy animal!

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1

pairing: Stephen Holder x Fem! Reader

word count: 1k

summary: Holder forgets it’s Christmas day until someone reminds him, luckily he’s got an understanding girlfriend.

warnings: smoking and food mention

note: First post of this collection! I don’t love it, but it turned out kinda cute. Not very edited so beware. I was going to post them consecutively but now I’ve decided to post them as they’re finished.

~~~

Holder’s head slumps against his desk as he sighs for the 3rd time in the past minute. He’d spent the past two days working on a case with no reprieve and now his brain felt like mush.

He pulls a carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, picks a random one, and puts it between his lips before lighting it. He relaxes back in his chair as he exhales a puff of smoke.

“Holder, for the hundredth time, you can’t smoke in here!” A booming voice shouts from the doorway.

Holder casually spins around in his chair to face his lieutenant. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke right into his boss’s face, just to annoy him.

“What the hell are you still doing here anyway? It’s 1 am on Christmas day, don’t you have someone waiting at home for you?”

The mention of Christmas causes an alarm inside Holder’s head to sound.

“Shit, I forgot that was today. My girl’s gonna be pissed.” Holder rushes to put out his cigarette in his ashtray before standing up.

“Get outta here now and maybe she won’t tear you a new one.”

“Thanks, Lieu.” Holder claps his boss on the back as he rushes out of the precinct.

The roads are clear considering the fact that it’s early morning on Christmas day. Luckily for Holder, this means he makes it back to your shared apartment in no time.

He quickly pulls into his spot in the parking lot, barely taking the keys out of the ignition before slamming the door and sprinting towards the building. He jogs inside, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid wasting time.

When he finally reaches your apartment, he’s out of breath. He shoves his key in the door, twists the handle, and flings the door open and closed like a madman.

Holder stands there huffing, looking around at all the festive changes you’d made to the place since the last time he’d been home.

You’d put up a small white tree in the corner of the living room, decorated with red lights, an assortment of colored ornaments, and a large star topper.

Finally, he spots you in the kitchen hunched over the open oven. He can see that you’ve set the small dining table up as if it were from a fancy restaurant, complete with your proclaimed “good dishes” and some nicely lit candles.

“Hey, Stephen.” You turn to face him with a sweet smile and a tone to match it. “You’re home earlier than I thought. The lasagna won’t be ready for another 30 minutes.”

“You ain’t mad that I’m late?” Stephen eyes you suspiciously as he walks further into the apartment.

“You’ve been at work a lot lately for your new case. I figured you’d forget about something as little as Christmas.” You take off your oven mitts and toss them on the counter.

“Sorry, I’m the world’s trashiest boyfriend.” Holder apologizes as he kicks off his snow-covered boots.

“Seriously, babe, it’s fine.” You reassure him as he approaches you.

“For real? You’re not even a tiny bit mad?” He looks at you, still doubtful.

“If anything I’m mad you’re earlier than I planned for. I didn’t even have time to change into my new dress.”

“I could go back in the hallway.” Holder hikes his thumb over his shoulder, motioning to the door. “Do this whole thing all over again.”

“Just sit on the couch, watch some tv and pretend I had the dress on when you came in.”

You usher hum towards the couch before scurrying down the hallway towards your bedroom to get ready. Once inside, you grab your new outfit from the closet.

You went shopping with your friends while your boyfriend was working so you could surprise him on Christmas. Your figure looked great in the red dress your friends had picked out for you and you knew he’d love it.

You fix your hair and put in your pearl earrings before walking back to the living room where Stephen waited.

“If the parents don’t believe in Santa, who do they think leaves the goddamn presents? They never explain that shit.” You hear him talk to himself.

“Why do you watch those movies when you know the plot holes piss you off?” You laugh at your dramatic boyfriend.

“‘Cause Home Alone wasn’t on yet.” Holder finally turns his head to look at you rather than the tv.

When he sees you standing there in the new dress his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“Damn shorty, you lookin fine as hell.”

“Fine as hell? That’s all I get.” You joke, walking closer to him.

“C’mon girl, you know I think you’re the most gorgeous woman to have ever graced this grey earth.” Holder motions for you to take a seat on his lap.

You sit on one of his knees, leaning into his touch as he wraps an arm around your waist and you wrap yours around his neck.

“So you like the dress?” You beam.

“I’d like it better if it was in a pile on the floor.”

“Stephen!” You playfully slap his chest.

“Can you blame me? You look like a goddess in that thing. I feel like an idiot over here lookin like street trash.”

“Hey, I happen to like the way you dress. It’s dorky and you look cute.”

“Dorky?” Your boyfriend looks up at you pretending to be hurt.

“Yeah, you got your baggy jeans and your big hoodies that go down to my knees. If I thought you looked like street trash, I wouldn’t have dated you this long.”

“Oh thanks, baby.” He rolls his eyes.

“You know I’m kidding, I love you no matter what you’re wearing. You could wear a potato sack and I would still be stupid in love with you.”

“The kind of stupid who makes lasagna at 2 am because her boyfriend can’t remember holidays?”

“The kind of stupid who makes lasagna at 2 am because she knows how dedicated her boyfriend is to his job and that he’s helping people so yeah he forgets about some things.”

“Wow, you really are in love with me huh?” Your boyfriend smirks up at you.

“Absolutely whipped.” You lean down to kiss his lips right as the timer goes off for the dinner.

[loverhymeswith]

Thank you so much for the tag @that-sarcastic-writer 🥰

Most popular fic: A Night to Remember - Rick Flag x Reader x Takeshi Kovacs

Hidden gem #1: What a Wicked Game - Rick Flag x OFC

Hidden gem #2: Between the Lines - Stephen Holder x Reader

No pressure tags: @sociiallydiisoriiented @babblydrabbly @green-socks @lorecraft @heresathreebee @callsign-valley

thank you for tagging me, my love @peterthepark 💜 decided to make this a separate post since the other one was getting a tad bit long

Rules: Recommend us 3 of YOUR fics: 1 that is “most popular” and 2 that are “hidden gems!” 

most popular: soft dark nothing | steven grant x f!reader

hidden gem #1: pacify her | javier pena x f!reader

hidden gen #2: million dollar man - series | frankie morales x f!reader x agent whiskey

no pressure tags 🏷: @inklore @pedropascalsx @fuckyeahdindjarin @jazzelsaur @radiowallet @the-scandalorian @moonbcrry @saintmurd0ck @saintlike78 @tom-whore-dleston @foli-vora @softtdaisy @wint3r-h3art @fluffyprettykitty @stranger-nightmare

[solo-vicious]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Killing Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Stephen Holder/Sarah Linden Characters: Stephen Holder, Sarah Linden Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff, One Shot Collection, maybe smut later who knows, Fluff and Angst Summary:

She's his ride, and he's her home. A series of one-shot collections to depict them throughout the series and post-season 4 in the relationship the show never lived to see.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

X and Y? 😆

Haha! These are perfect! Thanks! 💕

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

So many characters! But my top picks are probably Takeshi Kovacs, Bucky Barnes, Rick Flag, and Jason Todd. Though, honestly, the person I hurt the most is my reader-insert 😅

Y: A character you want to protect.

My one and only I just CANNOT hurt (at least without making it up to him) is Stephen Holder. There is just something about that poor boy that I just can't let him be hurt.

FanFic Ask Game

[the-beacons-of-minas-tirith]

Together From Now On

Fandom: Castle Rock/Stephen King

Ship: Joy x Chance

Words: 1862

Part: 1/?

Rating: G (fluff, kissing)

Notes: This is literally the very first fanfic I have published. I’m not a huge ff writer, but the “bury your gays” trope is one of my biggest pet peeves and I just really really wanted to correct it this time. I haven’t had a lot of time for writing lately, so I figured I’d post what I had so far and continue the story. Spoilers for Castle Rock S2

@fanpageknight @wormoffthestring sorry it took so long! Here it is!

The sky was gathering with clouds, a familiar scent on the wind: rain was coming. Through the open window of the passenger seat, Joy Ingalls looked out at the wooded landscape that seemed endless. But, she wasn’t really Joy Ingalls, was she? After nearly seventeen years, she had learned her true name, which was Evangeline Wilkes.

She had also learned of her true parents, Carl Wilkes and Rita Green, and that the woman whom she had believed to be her mother, Annie, was really her half-sister. Violence, death, murder, these were the things that Annie had fled from…along with Evangeline, who had been no more than a baby when a teenaged Annie had hidden her in a cardboard box and made her way to the river, intending to drown them both and escape “this dirty world”, as she often called it.

But something happened, something that had saved them both, and that was that Evangeline had smiled at Annie. She had never done so before, always crying when the troubled girl had held her, but this time, this time… Something had changed in Annie at that moment, something had pulled her back from the edge, and for the first time in a long time, Annie felt that things might get better.

Many years had passed with Annie and her sister, now renamed Joy and passed off as Annie’s own daughter, living a life on the run, although Joy had never known it – Annie, now a nurse, had kept up a pretense of the necessity of nurses moving around often. And so they did, moving from place to place, staying in areas for only months or even weeks before leaving, many times in a hurry, which Joy now knew was because of her adopted mother’s habit of stealing pills from the hospitals in which she worked, in order to control her unstable mind.

And it had been for this very reason that Joy had not, at first, believed Annie’s frantic paranoia of a man she had claimed to have killed, a dangerous man, coming back to life. After all, tales of the supernatural, even from locals who believed every word of it, were a thing of fiction, right? Maybe in some towns.

But not in Castle Rock.

Joy squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to block out the horrid memories, memories of the townspeople falling under a sinister trance, moving like zombies towards an ancient statue, memories of people who were no longer people, but vessels of wicked souls returned from centuries ago.

She had almost become one of them…

But her mother, who was not her mother, had kept that from happening. And now…

“Hey.” A voice broke Joy out of her dark thoughts. It was Chance, approaching the passenger window from the small convenience store they had stopped at. Joy had opted to stay in the car.

“Oh…hey.” Joy wrung her hands and looked down, breathing out slowly.

Chance opened the driver’s door and, setting the drinks she had bought in the cup holders, made herself comfortable in the seat. She glanced at Joy, a concerned look on her face. “You good?”

“Fine,” said Joy quietly, chewing her bottom lip.

Chance looked at her for a moment, then spoke. “You were thinking about it again,” she said softly. She gently put her hand over Joy’s; she could feel it trembling slightly.

“Joy.”

Joy looked up at Chance slowly. The girl who held her affections was good at seeing the truth, even without words. They hadn’t talked about anything that had happened in that town since they had left almost two weeks ago. She had pushed it down as long as she could, but now Joy could feel the words she longed to say rising inside her, like the late August heat that surrounded them.

Swallowing hard, Joy closed her eyes again. “What if I was wrong?”

“Wrong?”

“What if I – I shouldn’t have left her? What will happen to her without me? She saved me, I could have become one of those –” Her voice cracked, and she paused to take a deep breath. “She saved me,” Joy repeated slowly. “And I left her.”

Joy remembered this part vividly, perhaps most of all. Unlike the other memories that came unwittingly, surfacing every now and then like skeletal trees in a valley of fog, this one stayed at the front of her mind, burning intensely as if it had been branded behind her eyelids. Annie’s face, so eagerly hopeful at the thought of what she was sure was true, that Joy wanted to leave this wretched town with her and never come back. Well, part of it was true. Joy was desperate to leave.

Just not with Annie.

How her adopted mother’s face had slowly but surely crumpled, how her eyes, still so wide and emotional, were now filled with shock and fear instead of hope. Joy knew this would happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Mom,” she had said. “Mom, I think…I think I need to leave. Without…you. I love you, mom. I really do. But…I can’t…be with you anymore.”

           Annie had tried her best to keep her emotions from taking over. “Oh, Joy, little love, you don’t mean that! You’re just…” she hurriedly searched for what to say. “You’re overwhelmed. And why wouldn’t you be! Y-you’ve been through s-so much recently that – that you’re not thinking clearly! Those horrible people – those, those, dirty birds almost killed you!”

           “Mom…” Joy wanted to say more, but Annie cut her off.

“I’ll tell you what, little love, you need a good night’s sleep. We can go back to the lodge and rest, and then we’ll discuss it in the morning, okay? Okay?”

           But Annie knew she wasn’t letting Joy go anywhere alone. And Joy knew it too. Which is why what she had to do next broke her heart.

           She left a letter for her mother, expressing as best she could her feelings. That she needed to find her own way, that she still loved her, and hoped they could reconnect one day in the future. Taking with her a bag of clothes, her phone, the keys to her mother’s car, and what little money she had, Joy had left the lodge while Annie had slept, meeting Chance outside and helped her push the vehicle far enough away that Annie wouldn’t hear it start. They were lucky; the tank was almost full.

           And so they had driven, mostly in silence, stopping every so often to eat or find a hotel to stay at. Chance had, in the confusion of the town trying to regain its sanity, taken as much cash as she could from the register of the local bar, so they had plenty to keep them going for a while.

           Chance looked at Joy with empathy in her eyes. “I get it. I know what you’re going through. It sucks to be apart from your parents, even if they aren’t good for you. But it gets better. Hey, at least you have a phone now.”

           Joy gave a small chuckle.

           “When I left my folks, I was terrified,” Chance continued, rubbing Joy’s hand gently. “I had no idea if I would last. But you know what got me through it?”

           “What?”

           “What got me through was knowing that there was nothing left for me in the past, so that meant that everything I had to gain was in the future. That I had to keep moving forward.” Chance raised Joy’s hand and pressed it gently to her lips.

           Slowly, slowly, Joy’s anxious heartbeat decelerated, and she looked deep into Chance’s eyes, eyes that conveyed love and compassion. She had never felt this way about anyone before, had never felt this strong sense of safety and belonging, safer than she had ever been with her mother. Her chest felt lighter than it had in days.

           Joy smiled at Chance, and Chance smiled back. As if by second nature, they both leaned carefully towards each other, their lips meeting tenderly for more than a moment.

           A light patter had begun on the roof of the car; the rain had started. It was the soft, sweet rain of summer, cleansing the world around them and bringing new hope to their lives.

 ***

             Chance and Joy pulled into the parking lot of the hotel just as the rain had started to pick up. Dodging the drops, they ran in to the main lobby with their bags over their heads. Inside, they brushed their damp hair back, and chuckled as they looked at each other. Once their humor had subsided, they surveyed the interior.

As one of the common chain hotels, the lobby was hardly distinguishable from the others they had stayed in. The tiled floor was a pale cream color, there were fake plants in the corners, and the small sitting area had a flat screen TV showing a news channel. Right now, the anchor was pointing to a weather map and explaining that the rain would last until the end of the week.

           Chance started towards the front desk, where a middle-aged blonde woman was occupied with a magazine. Chance cleared her throat. The woman glanced up.

           “Yeah?” she said.

           “We’d, uh, like a room?” said Chance. “Please,” she added.

           The woman – Beverly, said her name tag – moved to look at her computer. “Name?” she asked absently, as she typed.

           “Andy,” said Chance in an even voice. She and Joy had agreed that it was best to use fake names for now, at least until they made it to Canada. No telling if they were being searched for.

           “Last name?” said Beverly. She seemed to be keeping herself from rolling her eyes.

           “Evans,” Chance replied.

           With a few more clicks on the keyboard, Beverly turned back to Chance. “Only rooms we got left have one bed. The couches are pull outs thought, if you want,” she said glancing at Joy.

           Joy paused, exchanging a look with Chance. Chance held her gaze for a few seconds before turning back to Beverly. “That’s fine. We’ll take it.”

           “How many nights?”

           “Um, four. Tonight to Sunday morning.”      

The blonde woman typed on her computer, then got up and went into a room behind the desk. She was gone for a minute before returning with two key cards in her hand.

           “Room number is 79. Third floor.” She placed the cards on the counter and then looked expectantly at Chance, who pulled a thick envelope out of her backpack.

           “How much?”

           “One-eighty, even.”

           Chance rummaged through the envelope and handed Beverly several bills. The clerk put the cash in the register and then gestured towards the elevators. “You’re all set.” She became engrossed in her magazine once more.

           Once the two girls were in the elevator, they sighed in relief. Chance looked at Joy. Joy looked at Chance. And all of a sudden they were laughing, leaning back against the mirrored walls. They were just two girls in this moment, two girls closer than friends who were happy and carefree and in love. Taking each other’s hands, they stepped off the elevator and made their way to the room.