₊𖥔 𝓳𝓪𝓷𝓮 ! ۪ ׄ໑୧ ׅ𖥔ׄ

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ . . . twenty . . . she / her (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

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♯ ⋮ WELCOME !

. ˖ ꒰𑁬 ♡ ໒꒱ ˖ .

➛⋆˚࿔ jane, 20, infp, she/her

requests: OPEN for rygos characters (ryland grace, holland march, courtland gentry, lars lindstrom, driver & luke glanton) ‹𝟹

all interactions with my posts are super appreciated

my dms are always open, or even my requests inbox, you can talk to me through there too *.❤︎₊ ⊹

i love u all :D

the tags below will lead you to wherever you wanna go!

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do u have any court wips…i love how u write him

i have quite a few yes!!! i will spoil u soon dw anon

i have ex bf!court finding out ur in danger and coming to keep an eye on you (yum). i have bodyguard court (lots of sexual tension in this one yippee). and finally, i have court coming home from a mission and fuckin u to sleep :P

hope you like the sound of theseeeee :)

[avocado-writing]

HMOOO

grace filming a diary entry while reader sucks him off

OH yes absolutely. It’s what he deserves. 18+. Ryland Grace x gn!reader, BJs, a bit of exhibitionism if you squint.

“I-it’s approximately six f-forty-two in Earth time—” Ryland manages, and there’s only a tiny little stutter in his words as he tries to keep ahold of his composure. He’s honestly doing very well. Much better than you thought he would, really, considering how you approached the situation…

He’d just been sitting down to record a video diary when the two of you were sure Rocky was fast asleep. You’d feigned disinterest at joining him, but as soon as he’d clicked the record button, you’d carefully begun to swan over to where he was seated at the computer. Ryland hadn’t noticed at first, but when your knees hit the ground in front of him, his eyes had gone wide in panic, and wider in anticipation when you started to mess with his fly.

When he’d trailed off his sentence your hands stilled on his dick, only to give him one very firm look with an entire dirty idea behind it: don’t stop doing the diary.

So here you are. Giving him head just below camera. And you think the restraint he’s having to show might actually kill him. His cock is in your hand at the moment, slathered in spit and rock-hard, and you’re stroking it with utter glee. His hands sink into the upholstery of his chair with such force that you can see his nails begin to make rips in it. You use a free finger to tap his so that his attention can be drawn to the unregistered reaction, and he balls them into white-knuckled fists instead.

“We are c-currently en route to Adrian to see if we can pick u-uh-uhhhh—”

You’ve started to lave your tongue up and down the thick vein on the underside of his cock. He forces himself back into his chair as if his spine has been superglued to it. Sweat begins to pebble on his forehead; you want to reach up and lick it off.

“Pick up, sorry, pick up the astrophage predator, everything is going smoothly so far…”

You smother a chuckle on his dick at that. Sure. Going smoothly, as you inch your mouth down him until he’s slowly swallowed up entirely. When you realise he isn’t talking, you glance up only to see he’s entirely focussed on the way your lips look around his shaft. You slap his knee to get him to concentrate.

“…andandand the ship checks are all fine, fuel levels are about what we expected…”

He’s babbling nonsense but it’s good enough for you. You speed up and, as a reward, grab one of his hands - you’re reasonably certain they’re off camera - and let him thread it through your hair. You’re sure the audio must pick up the breathy, fluttery sigh he gives out, but you’re long past caring.

Time to finish this sweet torture. You grab onto his thick thighs and move one of them so it’s slung over your shoulder and you can bury yourself in him properly. Ryland goes with a whoa! but doesn’t object. All he can do is try to babble out something which sounds even remotely like a sentence as his cock hits the back of your throat over and over, thick and hot and hard. His fingers stroke your hair like you’re giving him the most loving blowjob of his life and not like you’re trying to suck him completely dry on camera.

“Doctor Ryland Grace signing o-oh-OH-OHFFF!” he yelps as he fills your mouth with hot ropes of come. He bucks his hips a little so that his cock continues to slide against the soft, sweet plain of your tongue as he rides it out and you swallow every drop.

When you’re sure he’s done and there’s no more to take, you pull off of him with a wet pop and an empty mouth as you gulp loudly. He stares, enraptured, like the whole of his universe has narrowed to one fine point: you.

“We can’t possibly send this back to Earth,” he manages. You shrug.

“They sent us on a suicide mission. What else are we gonna do to distract ourselves?” you ask with a shrug, before leaning into the camera’s field of view properly. “Don’t worry, Stratt, I’m taking good care of him.”

You shoot a thumbs-down and hit save. She’ll have fun explaining that one to the governments of the world, you’re sure.

tags: @kenstimetoshine @nerd-do-well @kiffycreative @bookerdefay @pixiebuggz @regalfirebird @go-bonkers-go-foolish @inthegalaxxy@sexyleftist @julepod @cosmicyeehaw @s4turnsb3st @qardasngan@valentine-blue (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)

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just watched blue valentine. i am a wreck.

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THEY PUTTIN’ RYAN GOSLING ON A DAMN MOTORCYCLE AGAIN. WAR IS OVER. WORLD PEACE IS UPON US.

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𝜗ৎ » avoiding him | gn!teacher reader

— a/n: hi, i wrote this like ages ago so i kinda hate it now BUT maybe you guys love it??? all interactions with this post are appreciated <3

— in which, you’re avoiding ryland grace at your new teaching job for the sake of your own sanity .✦ ݁˖

Ryland Grace was becoming a problem.

His gloriously unruly hair, round-glasses that always sat so perfectly on his nose in the most unorthodox ways possible. His faded stubble struck a deep compulsion within you, all too tempted to scratch your fingers along his jaw just to see what it would feel like.

His well-fitted blazers, the under-shirts with the first few buttons undone, the collar folding over as if he’d spent hours perfecting its position. On the odd occasion, he’d shift his arm a little too quickly, accidentally allowing a brief glance at his torso that had your breath catching in your throat.

Ever since the first day you arrived, you knew that avoiding him was mandatory; for your dignity, sanity and usually immovable matter of professionalism.

A quick shake of his hand, a simple introduction, lead to your head being smushed firmly against your desk; screaming into the wood like a teenage girl with a crush, still feeling the linger of his touch despite his absence.

It was a complicated task to ignore Ryland, between sharing a staff room, sharing a malfunctioning coffee brewer, and just general teacher normalities, he was never far away. His presence constantly looming over you, sucking the air from your body.

To make matters worse, he was always so friendly, ready to talk to just about anyone who’d listen, but as soon as his eyes landed on you — you’d rush out of the room, knowing all too well that he was thinking over how to strike up an unrelated conversation.

Thankfully, grading papers provided a significant distraction. Especially after school hours, where the halls were empty, classrooms quiet. It was an ideal haven to process the day.

A soft knocking came at the door, before it clicked open; creaking slightly in its wake, revealing an all too familiar figure stood in the door when you looked upward in curiosity.

Ryland leant suavely against the doorway, propping the heavy door open with just his foot as he peered over at you through the top of his glasses.

Your feet screamed at you to run away, itching to relieve yourself of the situation, but this was your classroom. As much as you wanted to avoid him, running out of your own classroom would just be odd, and he was ever so conveniently blocking the exit.

“Guess I’m not the only one who stays late anymore, huh?”

‘Shit. Shit. Shit’ You repeated to yourself over and over again, brain working at a remarkable pace to try and magic a response out of thin air.

“I can go, if you want.”

If it wasn’t for his lingering presence in the room, you’d have smashed your head against the desk, rationalising the pain as punishment for being such an idiot.

“That’s not…what I meant.” He sounded confused, almost apprehensive as he entered the room; letting the door click softly behind him.

Your heart leapt into your throat as he neared, situating himself just at the end of your desk to just stare at you. His gaze was curious, head tilting ever so slightly, clearly lost in his own thoughts as his large hand planted firmly against the desk.

“Do you mind me using your photocopier? Mine’s broken.” He quizzed politely, gesturing to the machine at the back of the room with his free-hand, turning his body ever so slightly.

His arm shifted. That means— Oh god, don’t look.

“That’s fine.” You breathed out urgently, now snapping your head to focus on the pile of papers beneath you. Your eye had almost started to twitch, merely thinking about his presence in the room.

Something about it was unsettling, like he had another meaning to be shuffling around in your classroom. A very specific tension hung thick in the air, though you weren’t sure if it was just your imagination, with your gaze far too tempted to fall on his back.

“Oh, this is different from mine.” He let out an awkward laugh as you looked upwards, his head craning around to look at you. “Do you mind coming over here? I don’t wanna disturb you, I just— I don’t know how to work this thing.”

His words felt like a trap, one that you were currently walking towards, essentially welcoming it with open arms; feet still screaming at you to run in the other direction.

Now standing next to him, you fiddled with the photocopier, trying your best to push all the necessary buttons whilst you recollected your thoughts. Though Ryland didn’t make it easy, his gaze burning into the side of your head as you hunched over the machine.

“I thought you were some sort of scientist, Dr Grace.”

Your tone was teasing, successfully cramming your panic somewhere deep inside as you tried to mingle like your normal, functioning peers.

You weren’t really sure what came over you, chalking it up to a desire to prosper in an otherwise difficult situation. At least you were good under pressure.

Ryland noticed your switch, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again with a slow nod as he appeared to analyse every inch of your face.

“I’m a molecular biologist. Not a photocopier-ologist.” He fired back playfully, slotting his paper gently between the scanner, his long fingers lingering on the material longer than necessary.

Or, your brain was just picturing his every move in slow-motion, almost in compensation for how fast your brain was whirring.

“Is this not made of molecules?” You laughed quietly.

Ryland hummed in amusement.

“You’re good.” He praised in a way that almost had your knees buckling, the ground threatening to give way beneath you. His tone was sickeningly sweet, he even sounded a little proud at your remark, his hand now coming to rest against his hip.

You shrugged in response, offering a humble smile, fluttering your eyes closed for just a second.

When you opened them again, Ryland felt somewhat closer to you. Maybe he’d always been that close. No, no, he was definitely closer now.

“So, do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Oh.

Every possible response left you, your smile dropping instantly as you awkwardly glanced around the room.

“Avoiding you?” You managed to choke out a disgruntled laugh. “I haven’t been—“

He peered at you over his glasses again, cocking an eyebrow as if to say ‘Really?’. His expression set your skin on fire, deep in the eye of the storm. The storm being the most pleasant scrutiny of your life.

He should really take up a part-time role in interrogation, just the mischievous glint in his eye was nearly coaxing you into revealing your deepest secrets.

“You’re talking to me like I’m one of your students.” You tried to joke once more as your feet carried you back to your desk, but Ryland wasn’t falling for it — swiftly following behind you as you began cramming your belongings into your bag.

“No, I’m talking to you gently. There’s a difference.” He informed simply, watching as your hands struggled with the zipper of the bag; now panicked as you tried to rearrange the folders in your bag that were blocking the zipper.

“Well. Why are you talking to me so gently?” You were exasperated now, fingers tugging all too hard at the zipper that was now stuck half-way open.

“Just feels right.”

Your heart was hammering against your chest, giving one final push of adrenaline as you tugged the zipper, letting out a relieved sigh when it fully closed.

You weren’t even sure if he fully knew what his words implied, treating you as if you were a precious piece of porcelain that threatened to crack at any moment. But oddly, not in a condescending manner, in fact you suspected it was rather endearing.

“I have to get home now.” You slung your bag over your shoulder as Ryland watched you with knowing eyes, you were bolting, like usual.

However, this time, Ryland didn’t think too much of it. The whole interaction had given him all the information he needed to know, mentally storing it away for a later date.

“I’ll, uh… see you tomorrow!” You called out, waving a quick goodbye before practically sprinting out of the room. But, his voice stopped you.

“Will you?”

You turned to him reluctantly, feet frozen in place as he approached; his frame reaching to tower over you. He let out a quiet laugh, curiously awaiting your response to his remark.

“Probably, yes!” You spoke a little too quickly, a hand coming to awkwardly rub at the back of your neck, as if it was going to provide some sense of relief from the situation.

His silence made it hard to remain quiet.

“Maybe I’ll even start a conversation. Who knows really?” Your gaze was now fixed at your feet, not daring to look up at the expression on his face.

Ryland laughed again. “Well, I look forward to finding that out.”

You nodded once as confirmation, choosing to remain quiet now, since nothing good had come from you opening your mouth in the past 30 minutes. You span around on your heels, now rushing yourself out of the building.

“Get home safe.”

“Yep! You too!” You kept your head straight, turning the corner with an unfathomable urgency so that you were finally out-of-view.

That night, you flopped down onto your bed; letting out a far too normal, relentless squeal into your pillow, effectively muting the sound so as not to receive any noise complaints.

And with the impending threat of talking to Ryland significantly more looming over you…

You were pretty sure it wasn’t the last time you’d be in this position.

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court…courtland

HELLO this is killing me. anon i get you 100% but like are you okay?? should i call someone??

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Oooo can I please send in a request for Ryland sometime later?

yes of course!!!!!!! can’t wait to hear it <3 also this gif is my fav scene from the movie :):) i love him and his talking hands

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i wrote a whole ass request to you bout toxic!luke and toxic!reader pls reply babe ilyy ⋆˚꩜｡— ᨳଓ .

i don’t know which request was yours but im working on it i promise!!!!!! im trying to sort out the masterlist for toxic!luke before i publish all my stuff bc there’s like 5 and i wanna be organised ILY

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i miss writing ryland . that’s my best boy right there

so!!! here’s a little sneak peek of the professor!ryland fic i finally decided to continue working on after over a MONTH of it just sitting there:

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toxic luke who threatens to make you pregnant after an argument… something something you cant leave him if you’re full with his baby

YUP! currently working on a fic of reader baby trapping luke, but the concept can 100% go both ways so take these as my thoughts!

Luke probably says it right as you’re about to storm out of his trailer. It’s all just a giant ploy to stop you from bolting, really. And it works.

He’d take advantage of the fact you were frozen in place, his words repeating like an echo — taking this as his chance to approach, slipping his arms around your waist from behind.

“Always walkin’ away from me.” AND THIS MF SIGHS DIRECTLY INTO YOUR EAR. Maybe even tutting at you, just for extra yet unnecessary condescension.

“Tell me. Would you walk away full of my baby?”

Luke’s eager to see how you react, and is best pleased when he notices your knees buckling in subtle defeat; taking it upon himself to steady you flush against him.

You’re at a loss for words, opening your mouth to speak but nothing ends up coming out. Not that you had anything of substance in mind as a response, you just knew you should probably be saying something.

“I’m not hearing an answer.” He’ll tease and tease until you finally say something, even if it’s just an exasperated, but breathy:

“Shut up, Luke.”

He’ll just laugh to himself, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Come back to bed, yeah?”

And of course, you do. You always do.

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wait..how did u learn to do the format hex thing. twach us

hihi!!! umm im a bad teacher im afraid but i learnt from this post

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hi guys i just learned how to format text into a hex colour on this flippin app. someone tell me im good please

and if no one says anything..u just hate me :(

[cherrylonerboo]

SUCH A GOOD GIRLLLL

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hi guys i just learned how to format text into a hex colour on this flippin app. someone tell me im good please

and if no one says anything..u just hate me :(

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hello you beautiful perverts. im wanting to make a series out of the toxic!luke post that i did recently so if you have any ideas/thoughts, PLEASE blow up my inbox. im ready. i want to talk about this in great detail.

the 2 requests sent from the og post have been done, they’re just sitting in the drafts until the time is right!

[avocado-writing]

first time asking I’m kinda nervous 😳

anyways Ryland going crazy the whole night you managed to finally have sex together. It’s been a LONG ROUGH while since he’s felt human touch, especially feeling someone’s inside. He’s clearly sensitive to it all due to the isolation but he still fucks it through, it’s too good to stop. Afraid that it’ll be his last sex in general so he’s fucking like an overstimulated rabbit.

This became much sweeter than I thought, but please enjoy (Sorry it took FOREVER!) I know people have done a lot of touch starved Ryland but here is my spin on it. Also please never be nervous requesting from me, I am a freak and will write most things 😌

Ryland Grace x gn!reader. 18+. grounding exercises, overstimulation, kinda talking an out-of-practice Ryland through it. Slight dom!Ryland at the end. Smut and fluff.

The night is quiet and still on Erid, a crowded sky of unfamiliar stars shining down on your little slice of safety in the dome, and you and Ryland are making love for the first time.

Well... attemping. Attempting to make love.

You know it's been a long time since he's felt another human against him in any capacity. He was untouched during his entire time on the Mary - save for Rocky in his ball - then was stranded for years on an alien planet as the only one of his species.

When your crew landed in your craft and you shook his hand for the first time, you could see he was fighting back tears.

It was only natural he'd fall in love with one of you, and you were the lucky recipient of that affection, which was returned to him with the same magnitude and force. You adore Ryland Grace. There is no doubt about it in your mind or your heart. He is your soulmate and you were lucky enough to meet him in an unfamiliar sky, how wonderful fate is.

But...

He hasn't touched anyone for years. It's like he's sort of forgotten how. And now, as you lay in bed with him, naked and pressed together, his hips are rutting wildly as he tries to slot himself inside you and, in his eagerness, he keeps missing. His hands are all over your body with no semblance of reason and his kisses on your face are a bit too sloppy.

It's a lot, is all.

"Ry... Ry stop. That's my bellybutton," you whisper, softly, trying not to make him self-conscious. It is far too late for that, though, because the moment you say it he whines in horror.

"Oh gosh... god, fudge, fuck... ah... I'm ruining it, huh...?"

Words fall from his lips like a leak from a spigot which he cannot turn off. His eyes glaze over with tears and you are suddenly overcome with the horrible realisation that he's not here, he's not with you, not really. He looks at you like he is a prey animal caught in a predator's maw.

You can't have that, not for your Ryland.

Ever-so-carefully you take him by his shoulders and roll him onto his back. He makes a ragged noise, like he's afraid you're going to leave him alone in the bed and walk away, but you carefully seat yourself on his hips so his cock can gently bob against your ass.

"What's going on? Talk to me, please."

He does cry then, streaks dripping down his cheeks and into the pillow beneath him.

"It's stupid."

"It's not, not if it has you worried."

"I'm... I'm worried you'll disappear. Go away like a dream and it'll just be me here alone again. I couldn't take that. Couldn't take you being gone and being all on my own," He huffs a humourless laugh as he edges around hyperventilation. "Pathetic, right?"

"No, not at all... but I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. Nothing on Erid could drag me away from you." You let the affirmation sink in before you launch into your next plan.

"Ryland, I need you to breathe with me."

"What...?" he's still panicking a bit. You make sure your voice is low and soothing.

"Breathe with me. In-two-three-four... hold-two-three-four..."

You sit there, instructing him on his box-breathing. He follows along dutifully until you can feel his trembling slow a little. You trace idle patterns on his belly, just to help ground him.

"That's it, baby. Now, can you name five things you can see?"

He's not wearing his glasses, so when he looks around, his options are limited. Ryland works with what he has.

"I can see you."

"What can you see? Be specific."

"Y...your hair. Sticking to your forehead."

"Go on, honey."

"The way your arms move as you stroke m-my stomach. Your chest moving as you breathe. Your lashes fluttering as you blink at me. Your smile."

The last one creeps over your face as you hear him audibly calm down.

"Very good, Ry. Now: four things you can touch."

He slowly unballs his hands from the bedsheet and begins to explore you. There is purpose to his touch now, not the awkward fumblings of an out-of-practice lover, but the caresses of a new and excited one.

"Your goosebumps as I run my fingers over your skin. The way your thighs sit over my hips. The curve of your ass against my cock. Your heartbeat."

He settles his palm over your chest to test that one and finds it sure, steady.

"Perfect. Three things you can hear?"

"You talking to me. The sea outside." He scrambles for a third, until you gently start to hum for him. "Is that... are you humming Space Oddity?"

You nod and he finally laughs. You can feel the anxiety leaving him. He is exactly where he needs to be once again: here, with you. You finish the exercise anyway.

"Two things you can smell?"

"The fresh bedding... and your sweat. In a good way, you know?"

You do know. You lean down for the last one.

"And one thing you can taste?"

The answer, of course, is you. Your kiss. He captures your lips softly and surely with his own this time, tongue pressing against the seam of your mouth to seek entrance. You allow it. The two of you luxuriate in the kiss to appreciate it for what it is: being safe in the moment together.

He carefully rolls you onto your back and you let him, now that you're sure he has a grasp of the situation. When you feel his cock line up against you this time he is easily able to slip inside. You gasp in unison. His forehead presses to yours.

"You okay, Ry?" you manage. He nods gently.

"Yes. Yeah. Just--fudge--just been a while since I felt. Uh. Inside, you know?"

"That's okay. We have all the time in the world."

He begins to have you properly then. Slow, sure rolls of his hips as he fucks through the first waves of his overstimulation and finds a pace which satisfies you both. You drag him closer to you, as close as you can: chest to chest, your legs around his waist, foreheads still met as your sweat mingles together. There is something rabbit-like about the way he takes you but you can tell that he's here with you now, so you're happy to meet his energy with the same level of excitement.

"Fuck, Ry, this is amazing..."

"Yeah?" the word catches in his throat, as if he can scarcely believe it.

"Yeah, it is. Your cock fits just perfect, makes me feel so good..."

"Oh god... gosh... ah, fuck, screw it," he mumbles, letting his teacher-brain-language-inhibitor finally slide away and his horny-brain take over. His large hands pin your hips to the bed as he quickens his pace, skin slapping against skin in the most beautiful symphony you've heard on Erid.

Pleasure rolls along your body in the same way the waves crash on the beach outside. It is a crescendo which is coming to its conclusion. As if he can tell, his hand slips between your bodies so he can stroke you where you need it most, fingers quick and clever and sure.

"Love you so much..." he mutters as he feels you begin to lose yourself.

"Fuck--! Love you too, Ry--!"

You come around him, arching your back into his thrusts, and he releases inside you so deep that you can feel it in your guts. The two of you collapse onto the bed and for a while, nothing can be heard but your laboured breathing.

His fingers begin to walk their way across your arm and you giggle at the tickle.

"Five things I can see..." he whispers, and begins to count them off again, pressing a kiss to your sweaty skin with each one.

You're here. He's here. And it's perfect.

tags: @kenstimetoshine @nerd-do-well @kiffycreative @bookerdefay @pixiebuggz @regalfirebird @go-bonkers-go-foolish @inthegalaxxy@sexyleftist @julepod @cosmicyeehaw @s4turnsb3st @qardasngan@valentine-blue (lmk if you wanna be added or removed!)

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hii!! i was wondering if i could request pregnant! reader x holland headcanons?? ; they’ve been in a relationship for a while (sorry if this is a strange request just thought it was sweet 😭)

𝜗ৎ » holland w/ his pregnant partner !

okay hi um i got a bit carried away with these, it was just such a cute idea and i couldn’t stop (whoops!) but i hope you guys enjoy <3

For a man that's pretty squeamish, he's over the moon when you wake up one morning; rushing over to be sick in the toilet. He's confused initially, wondering if he'd undercooked the meat last night and accidentally poisoned his entire family. But he doesn't feel sick so that can't be right. So, why are you—

This guy bursts through the door like a bull in a china shop when it finally dawns on him. He immediately comes to kneel beside you, securing your hair behind your ears like the gentleman he is. Though, he keeps as much distance as he can — eyes looking anywhere else in the room. The last thing you needed was him being sick too.

He waits for you to recover like a child waiting to open his birthday presents, impatient and bouncing on his knees slightly. And you know exactly why.

You're reluctant at first, plagued with the possibility that you weren't pregnant after all, and your little episode had got his hopes up for nothing. But, after Holland runs to the store and returns with a pregnancy test for you to pee on — it's just the opposite.

Holland can't contain his excitement one bit when you tell him it's positive, immediately going to bang his fist against Holly's bedroom door. "Up! Up! Up! Family meeting in the living room." You've barely even had time to process it yourself before he's sitting Holly down on the couch and spilling the news himself.

She looks blankly between the two of you for a moment before her gaze stops on you.

"You…had sex with my dad?"

"Jesus!" Holland shrieks. "That's not— Don't think about that— You're gonna have a sibling! Aren't you excited?"

She doesn't look at him still. Maybe she can't. But a small smile breaks her blank expression.

"Of all the men in the world? Really?" She asks, giving a pitiful look.

You stifle your own laugh, motioning for her to come and give you a hug — which, of course, she's more than happy with; scrambling up from the couch to wrap her arms around you.

During the course of your pregnancy, Holland barely lets you lift a finger. If you're in bed reading and just finished a glass of water, before you can even set it down against the bedside table Holland shoots up and takes it from you. And best believe he's running to the kitchen at the speed of light to fill it back up again.

You make a joke one time, saying he should fan you and feed you grapes — you know, like they do in those movies. But he doesn't seem to understand the jest, all too quickly leaving and returning home with a paper fan and some grapes. The realisation finally falls on him when you erupt into a fit of laughter.

"Yeah, that's it. Laugh at the guy who just wants to do something nice." He pouts, clearly displeased as he sets the bag down on the floor. He sits on the bed next to you, shoulders hunched over in defeat.

You end up letting him do it anyway, just to put a smile back on his face. Holland enjoyed it thoroughly (and was weirdly turned on at one point.)

He's very protective over anyone that makes any sort of comment regarding your pregnancy, even with Healy who saw your bump for the first time and went "Wow! You're big." Obviously, there was no malice behind it, and you found it rather funny, but Holland immediately positioned himself in between you and Healy.

"Hey! That's my partner you're talkin' to, jackass."

Healy is shooting you a very bewildered look, to which you just shrug and shake your head as if to say 'Yeah. I don't know what's up with him'. But as soon as Holland spins back around, you fix your expression into a smile, and he proceeds to nod triumphantly to himself like he'd just saved the entire planet.

He just wants to show you that he'll be a good father to your child. He's well-aware that Holly is a real-life example, but he can admit that he's fucked up along the way due to his drinking habits, and with that behaviour rapidly cooling down since the big news, he figures he should work twice as hard to prove it to you.

But he's 100% panicking when you go into labour. He does not know what he should say, what he should do, despite being in the exact same situation before. So, he just starts rambling whilst he's sat beside you in the hospital bed.

"You know, I always thought of pregnancy like gambling."

You give him a look, as if to say 'Please don't continue. Not with the nurse in the room.' Though he doesn't seem to catch it, looking off as if he was some sort of, all-powerful, ancient Greek philosopher.

"I mean, the little one could grow up to cure cancer. How amazing is that?"

You watch as the nurse seems to smile at his comment as she's setting things up around the room.

And, of course, that would've been a lovely thing to say on its own. However, the problem was — he was not finished and he'd lulled the poor woman into a false sense of security.

You, on the other hand, you were trained by experience to know something else was coming.

"Or, they turn out like Ted Bundy— But, I'm sure it'll be fine, baby. We won't let that happen." He rests his hand on your own, giving it a quick pat, offering a reassuring smile. A strange smile considering the nature of what he just said.

You can only hope the baby decides to make an appearance sometime soon. Because as soon as it does, Holland will fall into a blissful silence — cradling the little one in his arms, mumbling little greetings as he leans in closer, promising that he'll be the best dad in the world.