#this is so cool...........thank yew...................

Dis u?

*Disappears*

Also a lot more appreciation, holy shit she is such a looker 😳

A/n: Thank yew guise for all the love you've shown me and my works it means so much to me! Sorry if this feels short.

previous Part 3 next

Who the fuck...?

That's what you thought when you saw a text notification flash across your phone screen. You had been waiting on Sukuna to text you that he got home but instead you were met with an unknown number... You unlocked your phone and opened the message to be hit with a harsh reality.

Unknown Number: "Hey. Just wanted to let you know Sukuna is only going out with you as a bet. They pick the most untouchable girl and try to get at her. I thought you deserved to know."

Your heart felt like it dropped out of you. What did they mean he only went out with you as bet? Was it really all a sick joke like you had initially thought. Of course it was. It was too good to be true. You felt a thump begin to grow in your throat and your eyes begin to string. But right before a tear could drop you were met with another text this only adding to your anger.

Sukuna: "Just got home, ma."

A small "oh fuck you" spilled from your lips and so did tears. They ran down your face like a stream. For once in your life you had felt desired, like someone wanted you but of course it was just a false reality. Of course you were just the chubby girl who had the bad end of the stick. It wasn't fair. It wasn't the first time you had been be done wrong by a guy like this. It brought you back to your teen years when a guy had asked you to hang out and ended up not showing up or when they would show up but later ditch you. Why couldn't you catch a break. Maybe the universe was out to get you. It sure felt like that. But the worst part of it all, you had enjoyed your time out with him. You actually sat and got to know him. Had he been vulnerable as an act? You mind reeled with questions but eventually through your teary eyed state you pick up your phone and started typing to that unknown number.

You: "Who are you? How do you know this..."

You nervously waited as it sent only for the message not to go through or say delivered. You were blocked. How dare they drop a bomb like that and then block you. Goodness you were furious. Tears came pouring down your face until you flopped onto your back under the blanket and curled up. Fuck this. This bullshit. You need to stop crying over some fuck ass bum frat boy with a body count higher than his iq. So you did, you put your big girl underwear on and wiped your tears away with the back of your hand. You sniffled a bit but took a deep breath. You were worthy of love and this whole ordeal was just a learning experience you reminded yourself. This wasn't gonna be one of those times where you wallow in self pity and self depreciate. Nope. Nun uh. You were gonna move forward. So what if you were a stupid bet. Someone out there would die to look like you or even be with you. You were smart, funny, and pretty. Not a single man has had the pleasure of claiming you because well... you were almost unattainable. Too busy focusing on yourself and y'know what you should've kept it that way. That was exactly why you were chosen because you were unattainable, a prize to be won, a wild animal to cage and domesticate.

Fuck that. You pick your phone back up and opened it immediately going to Sukuna's contact and blocking him before doing so to him on all social media. You were gonna play this cool, simply act like nothing ever happened. And so you did, you went to sleep like you weren't just crying a few minutes ago. You put on some music in the background and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you work up feeling a bit better and more refreshed. It was a Saturday so you were able to sleep in a bit. You stayed in bed, scrolling on your phone for a bit. Eventually, you rolled out of bed and put your slippers on before shuffling to the bathroom to go pee and do your morning skin care routine. After that was done you went to the kitchen to grab a light snack and something to drink. You were feeling like having more of a slow day since you weren't busy this weekend and had no studying to do. So, you walked back to your room with your snack and laid back in bed. You ate while watching a new youtube video uploaded to your favorite channel. By the time you broke out of the trance your phone had you in it was about twelve pm. You knew you had to do something productive as much as you didn't want to. Maybe, cleaning? No, the apartment isn't even that messy. Grocery shopping? Nah, your fridge is stocked already. Maybe you would just have an unproductive day and lay around in bed. That was the plan you had settled on until you heard a knock at the door.

Who the hell is at your door. It better not be some solicitors. But nonetheless you rolled out of bed and shuffled to the front door. You didn't even bother checking the eye hole and just opened the door. But to your dismay it was the one and only Sukuna Ryomen standing outside you door and he looked furious.

Not today Satan. You thought and just slammed the door in his face. But, little did you know Sukuna was too invested into you now. So what he did next almost made you scared. He had the audacity to open your front door and walk in before closing the door behind him.

"You blocked me... On everything." He said almost as if he was hurt by the fact.

"What the fuck? Get out of my apartment. I'll call the cops if you don't."

"The cops won't do shot first of all and second Im not leaving until you unblock me and tell me why you did it."

The audacity on this man made you beyond anger. So you did what any sane woman would. You got up close to him and pointed your manicured finger in his face before yelling.

"Oh, you wanna know why? I'll tell you why. Because you're a fucking asshole who only went out with me as a bet!"

Shit. Not only was he in deep shit but that was so hot. You were the first woman to truly stand up to him like that and it really was messing with his head.

"Fuck..."

"Fuck? That's all you have to say? No sorry? Wow, you really are worse of a person than I thought." You were astound at the lack of remorse he had.

No. No. No this wasn't how Sukuna wanted things to go. Not after he had such a good time with you.

"Ma, please let me explain."

"No! You don't deserve to be heard. I don't care about whatever shitty excuse you have."

"Please, listen to me. I'm practically begging you to. Just give me five minutes." Sukuna had never been so desperate for a woman before, it was making his head spin.

"No! Get the fuck out of my apartment!" You yelled at him and walked around him to open the door for him. You pointed your finger towards outside and gave him a look that could kill.

"Fine. But this isn't over, ma, I'm just giving you time to cool down." With that being said he turned on his heels and walked out your door. In all honesty the only reason he was walking away was to not seem desperate.

"Fuck you." How dare he talk to you like that.

You just slammed the door behind him and locked it. Now you were just plain enraged. The audacity on that man made you wanna tear him a new one. But you were better than that. He didn't deserve your energy. You rolled your eyes and scoffed as you walked back to your bed. This was absolutely ridiculous. But little did you know what you were getting into with Sukuna.

velcro

— you share one bed with rintarō and he acts like you’re gravity, religion, and tax fraud all at once.

suna rintarō x f!reader

c: fluff!

thank yew ♡⸜(ˆᗜˆ˵ )⸝♡ and thank you for requesting, bby! mwua!

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

2008 gerard way x fem reader

authors note: hello my little mermaids… today i have the 2nd and final part of “over the rainbow” for yew all! if you haven’t already, i recommend reading the 1st part so this makes more sense or else you’ll be lost as hell… anyways… enjoy and prepare yourselves ;)

before you read: cursing, nicknames, some angst but immense comfort afterwards, lots of fluff, can they get married already, someone wants gerard’s cookie and it ain’t just y/n 👀, lots of kissing lotsss of tension, grinding, unprotected sex, they’re so down bad for each other, that’s all???

word count: 10,339 (y’all asked for it)

pt.1 | pt.2

the next few hours of the day drag themselves out like they’re doing it on purpose. you try not to think about him. you fail immediately.

it’s embarrassing how thoroughly he’s lodged himself in your head, like he found some loose panel and crawled right in, made himself at home. his laugh, the way he talks to you, the weight of his arm around your waist when you least expected it. you’ve been attracted to people before, obviously, but this feels different in a way that makes you restless, unsettled, like your brain keeps circling the same thought and can’t land.

so you force yourself out of the house. you walk to the convenience store down the street and stand in front of the coolers way too long, staring blankly before grabbing a drink and some chips you don’t even really want. the cashier gives you a look like he can tell you’re somewhere else entirely. you mumble thanks and leave.

the beach helps. a little. you’re grateful you threw on a sweatshirt with your shorts, because it’s still hot as hell, the kind of heat that clings to your skin, but the ocean breeze cuts through it just enough to make you feel human again.

you walk along the shore for nearly an hour, shoes in your hands, sand cool under your feet, waves hissing in and out like steady breathing. it clears your head in fragments, never all the way. every time you start to feel calm, he slips back in- friday at five, baby- like your mind is determined to replay it until it loses meaning, which it absolutely does not.

afterward, you rinse off at the outdoor shower station, salt and sand spiraling down the drain, and head back home feeling wrung out and wired at the same time.

by the time you’re back in your room, boredom settles in heavy. you stretch out on your bed with leo sprawled on your chest, his weight solid and grounding, one paw tucked under his chin while he purrs like a tiny engine. you stare at the ceiling and let your thoughts drift in that dissociated way where time gets slippery.

that’s when the insecurities creep in. what if he was just flirting because he could? what if that kiss was nothing to him? what if friday never actually happens? you replay the way his band laughed, the way he kissed you in front of them like it was nothing, and your stomach twists. people like him don’t just… end up in people’s lives like yours. not like that. not for real.

you’re just starting to convince yourself that this will be a funny story you tell someday- remembering that one night- when the doorbell rings.

you frown, the sound slicing clean through your thoughts. leo lifts his head, ears twitching. you glance at your clock- 10pm.

“who the hell…?” you mutter, carefully shifting leo off you and padding down the hallway. your house is quiet, the kind of quiet that makes the doorbell feel louder than it should. you lean in and peer through the peephole. and then you laugh, breathless and disbelieving.

laurel and bailey stand on your porch, eyebrows raised in identical expressions of expectation, laurel already halfway through unlocking the door like she owns the place, bailey rocking back on her heels with a grin that says she knows something’s up. you shake your head, still smiling as you pull the door open, the tension in your chest easing just a little. of course it’s them.

you open the door with faux annoyance already loaded on your face, arms crossing as you lean into the frame. “can i help you- oh, jesus-”

you don’t even finish the sentence before laurel barrels into you, slamming into your chest with a tight hug that knocks the air straight out of your lungs. “y/n! we missed you,” she pouts, squeezing harder like she’s afraid you’ll vanish if she lets go.

you wheeze, laughing, feet shuffling backward as she rocks you side to side. “laurel- air-”

bailey cackles from behind her, completely unhelpful, before stepping inside with her usual unbothered ease and shutting the door with a soft click. “‘sup, y/n.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, already padding down the hall like she owns the place, and you finally pry laurel off you, both of you laughing as she sighs dramatically and lets herself be dragged toward your room.

the second laurel spots your bed, she lights up. “oh, leo,” she breathes, dropping down without hesitation. leo meows immediately, like he’s been summoned, and climbs straight onto her chest, kneading and purring like this was always the plan. you shake your head, grinning.

bailey stops in the middle of the room, though, expression suddenly serious. too serious. she raises one hand slowly, palm out, like she’s about to conduct an orchestra or summon a spirit. laurel snorts. “oh, here we go.”

you blink. “bailey, what are you even-”

“SHH,” she cuts in sharply, eyes closing as she tilts her head. “let me focus.” she breathes in dramatically. then opens her eyes and sweeps her arm through the air with theatrical flair, gaze flicking between you and laurel. “the energy in here,” she says gravely, “is different.”

your stomach flips. you cross your arms tighter without realizing it, heat creeping up your neck as your brain betrays you- gerard’s weight, his mouth, the way he caged you in without ever making you feel trapped. you look away fast, cheeks burning.

bailey continues, absolutely clocking your spiral. “i smell…” she inhales again. “a faint linger of cigarettes.” laurel’s grin goes feral. “and cologne,” bailey adds. “expensive.”

leo chooses that exact moment to whine lazily, stretching out on laurel’s chest, one paw reaching toward your nightstand. toward the sunglasses.

shit. shit. shit.

bailey’s eyes follow his paw. slowly, deliberately, she turns to look at you, a wicked smile spreading across her face as she walks over and picks them up. laurel sits up a little, delighted. “oh?”

“okay,” you rush out, hands lifting defensively. “so what if there was a guy? we didn’t do anything-”

bailey hums, cutting you off as she inspects the glasses. “ray-bans,” she murmurs approvingly. “he’s got taste.”

your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure they can hear it. laurel pats the bed beside her with a knowing grin. “c’mere.” you groan but comply, flopping down with an eye roll. bailey sets the sunglasses back exactly where they were and sits on your other side, turning to you slowly.

“so,” she says lightly, ticking points off on her fingers. “he smokes. smells good. wears expensive ass sunglasses. is forgetful-” her eyes flick pointedly to your neck, a grin tugging at her mouth. “and apparently loves your neck.”

you groan louder, burying your face in your hands as both of them burst out laughing. laurel tilts her head, eyes sparkling with curiosity as leo purrs between you. “you suuure you two didn’t do anything…?”

your silence is answer enough.

they both burst out laughing at the exact same time, loud and unrestrained, and leo’s ears fly back as he shoots you an offended look before scrambling off laurel’s chest. he hops away with a huff before flopping dramatically, tail flicking. laurel manages a breathless, “sorry, baby,” reaching out to pat him while still laughing, and you sigh, rolling your eyes as you wait for them to get it out of their systems. eventually the laughter fades into giggles.

bailey sighs and rolls onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow, chin resting in her palm as she looks at you. laurel mirrors her on the other side, grinning, eyes bright with anticipation. you cross your arms, fighting a smile. “you two want more,” you say, amused despite the embarrassment. they nod in perfect unison. you snort. “figures.”

bailey doesn’t waste a second. “okay,” she says, eyes sparkling. “what does he look like?”

heat creeps up your neck immediately, like your body knows it’s about to betray you. you hesitate, then sigh. “i mean… he’s like, average height? i think?” you shrug. “but since i’m short he kind of… looms.” they both laugh softly at that. “and he’s got this build,” you continue, flushing. “not ripped or anything. just… thick? solid. his arms are very-” you gesture vaguely, fingers curling, “prominent. sculpted.”

you glance down, picking at a chip in your nail polish. “he also has really nice thighs.”

“ohhhh,” they chorus.

“oh my god, shut up,” you groan, face burning as they laugh and apologize over each other. you keep going anyway, because you’re already in too deep. “his eyes are really pretty. like, unfairly so. hazel. long eyelashes. thick eyebrows but they’re shaped nice and he’s super expressive with them.” bailey hums approvingly. “his nose is… there,” you add, laughing nervously. “pointy, but it works. and his hair- black, kind of grown out, always messy like he just pushes it back without thinking.”

laurel leans in then, brushing her finger lightly against your arm, head tilted, smirk knowing. “and his lips?”

you groan again, tipping your head back. “you’re evil.”

they laugh, but bailey sits up a little, lifting her hands. “hey,” she says, tone gentler as she rests a hand on your shoulder. “you really don’t gotta explain anything if you’re not comfortable. we’re just messing with you.”

you hum, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “i won’t say much,” you concede, then add quietly, “but he’s a really good kisser.”

they lose it.

“i fucking knew it,” laurel gasps.

“is he even real?” bailey laughs. “where did you find this man?”

you laugh too, the tension easing as you tell them how you met him, the night unfolding again in your mind as you talk. they listen closely, interruptions minimal for once, and when you finish, they share a look- wide eyed, disbelieving.

bailey straightens slowly. “so his name is gerard,” she says carefully. “he’s in a band. his brother and two friends left him. he’s from jersey.” she trails off, staring at the wall.

laurel picks up where she leaves off, voice tight with realization. “y/n… do you know his band name?”

you frown, a knot forming in your stomach. “why?” you ask cautiously. “you’re freaking me out.”

bailey stands and starts pacing. “have you seen the rest of his band?”

“uh,” you say slowly. “yeah. one guy was covered in tattoos. another was lanky, had glasses. the last one was tall, curly hair-”

they shout over you.

“holy fucking shit, you found gerard way.”

“it all makes so much fucking sense now.”

“okay, okay- what?” you cut in, hands lifting defensively. “is he, like… really famous or something?”

“YES?” they yell back in unison.

you stare at them, stunned, as bailey drops back onto the bed laughing, rubbing her face. “dude,” she says breathlessly, “you just bagged a fucking rockstar.”

your smile falters.

they both notice instantly.

bailey scoots closer. “hey,” she says softly. “what’s wrong?”

laurel takes your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, and your lip wobbles despite your best effort. “that’s the problem,” you admit quietly. “he asked me out. had me write my number on him.” they start to freak again, but you shush them quickly, words tumbling out- how it feels unreal, how you’re scared he won’t call, how people like him don’t actually follow through, how maybe you were just a fun night.

laurel squeezes your hand. “y/n,” she says firmly, “men do not kiss women like that if they’re not interested.”

“and he kissed you in front of his band?” bailey adds. “that man is down horrendous.”

you swallow. “i don’t know about that,” you murmur. they’re just opening their mouths to reassure you- when betty rings.

all three of you gasp.

“OH MY GOD,” laurel shrieks. “GRAB BETTY-”

“PICK HER UP,” bailey yells, already pushing you off the bed. your heart slams against your ribs as you scramble for betty, hands shaking as the ringing fills the room, the girls hovering close, eyes wild.

you pick up betty with hands that don’t quite feel like they belong to you, heart thudding so loud you’re sure it’s going to bleed straight through the receiver. laurel and bailey freeze mid movement, eyes snapping to you and then to each other, mouths already half open. “hello?” you manage, breathless. there’s a beat of quiet, just long enough for your pulse to spike- then his voice fills the line.

“hey, baby.” low, rough around the edges, familiar already in a way that makes your stomach dip. “sorry for callin’ so late. i just- wanted to talk some more, if that’s okay.” bailey clamps a hand over laurel’s mouth, but she still makes a noise. leo’s head snaps up at the sound, ears pricked, eyes bright.

your face goes hot immediately. “yeah,” you say softly. “yeah, that’s okay.”

you hear him smile before he laughs, a deep, easy sound that settles right into your bones. “good. was hopin’ you’d say that.”

you swallow, glancing helplessly at the girls as they silently lose their minds on your bed, kicking their legs and smacking each other. “wait,” you add, suddenly practical, nerves flaring. “don’t you have a show tomorrow? you’re not gonna be exhausted?”

he chuckles again. “that’s what coffee’s for, yeah? i’ll be fine. been doin’ this shit a long time. kinda muscle memory at this point.”

“mhm,” you hum, not totally convinced, fiddling with the cord. the silence stretches for a second, just enough for doubt to creep in- and then his voice softens.

“hey,” he says gently. “i also wanted to say… i’m sorry if i made you feel like you had to say yes earlier. i should’ve given you more time. didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

your heart lurches. “no- no,” you rush out, words tumbling over each other. “you didn’t make me feel that way at all. i wanna go out with you. i really do. that’s- that’s why i answered so fast. i wouldn’t have said yes if i didn’t want to.”

there’s a quiet exhale on the other end of the line, like he’s been holding something in. “good,” he murmurs. “i’m glad. really fuckin’ glad to hear that.” his voice drops, warmer. “can’t wait to see you again, baby.” you laugh softly, overwhelmed, cheeks aching from how hard you’re smiling. on the bed, laurel mimes swooning.

leo chooses that moment to climb into your lap, front paws braced on your shoulder as he sniffs at the phone like he’s expecting gerard to crawl out of it. “woah- hey,” you laugh, steadying him.

“what’s goin’ on?” gerard asks, amused.

“he keeps perking up when he hears your voice,” you say, scratching leo’s chin as he meows directly into the receiver. “i think he’s already obsessed with you.”

gerard’s laugh this time is fond, unmistakably so. “well, tell him i miss him too. gonna have to see my buddy again real soon.” leo purrs like that settles something important.

you sigh, content for a second before reality nudges back in. “you should probably get some sleep, gee.”

“bored of me already?” he teases. your sputter is immediate. “what- no, that’s not-”

he laughs softly. “kiddin’, honey. you’re right. i should crash.” there’s a pause, then, quieter, “friday at five still good? we can change it if that’s too much.”

“it’s perfect,” you say without hesitation. “i’ll see you then.”

“mhm.” he lingers, like he’s reluctant to hang up. “hey… can i call you tomorrow night? just to hear your voice. no reason. i just want to.”

your chest tightens in the best way. “yeah,” you say, smiling so hard it almost hurts. “i’d like that.”

“good,” he murmurs. “sleep well, baby.”

“goodnight, gee.”

you set betty down with shaking hands, heart racing, and the room immediately explodes.

“oh my god, he is so into you!” laurel exclaims.

“down bad,” bailey adds triumphantly.

they reassure you until your shoulders finally loosen, the adrenaline fading into something softer. eventually they say their goodbyes, promising updates, hugs lingering a second longer than usual. later, when the house is quiet again, leo curls up on your chest, warm and heavy. you stare at the ceiling, mind racing despite your exhaustion, replaying his voice, his laugh. sleep takes a while. but when it finally does, it’s with a smile still on your face.

the days stretch, but not in a bad way.

you keep moving through them like you always do- alarm buzzing too early, coffee burned just enough to wake you up, morning shifts blurring together with muscle memory. after work, it’s the ocean. always the ocean. you meet laurel and bailey with boards under your arms, wax melting a little in the sun, the air thick with salt and sunscreen and laughter. you paddle out together, catching waves until your arms ache, riding them clean and long when everything lines up just right, the sun flashing white on the water as you carve and feel that brief, perfect weightlessness. it helps. mostly.

gerard keeps his promise.

the next night, right around ten, betty rings. and then it rings the night after that. and the night after that. same time, like clockwork. you end up talking for hours, voices dropping softer as the night deepens, both of you flushed and a little stupid with how obvious it is. he tells you stories about the road, about jersey winters and shitty diners and falling asleep on buses. you tell him about the ocean, about leo, about laurel and bailey and the way the water feels different depending on the tide.

somewhere between laughter and quiet pauses, you start to ache for him in this low, constant way, like anticipation humming under your skin.

by the time friday rolls around, you almost don’t believe it’s real. you go through the day like any other. surfing in the morning, waves clean and glassy, your body moving on instinct, sun beating down as you pop up smoothly and ride it out, grinning like you’ve got nothing to worry about. you sprawl out in the sand afterward with laurel and bailey, boards discarded nearby, skin warm and salty, the world loud with kids yelling, waves crashing, radios playing tinny music somewhere down the beach.

you tell yourself to stay present. you’re here. you’re with your friends. this is your life. but anxiety creeps in anyway, curling low in your stomach, and bailey clocks it immediately. she lifts her head slightly, squinting at you from behind her sunglasses. “he’s gonna ring your doorbell at five tonight,” she says calmly, like she’s stating the weather. “i know it.”

you laugh, snorting. “okay, psychic.”

laurel chuckles from your other side, turning her head toward you both, shielding her eyes with her hand. “can we come over later and help you get ready?” she asks lightly, then smirks. “because i’m pretty sure you’re not opening that door unless we’re there.”

you exhale, defeated, because she’s absolutely right. “yeah,” you admit. “yeah, that’d be good. thanks, guys.”

bailey scoffs, waving you off. “don’t thank us. we want you to have fun. and we wanna be there with you.”

you smile, warmth settling in your chest, and the three of you make loose plans- 1pm, plenty of time, no rushing. eventually you split off, tanned and happy and tired in that good way.

back home, you shower, steam fogging the mirror, and wrap yourself in a robe. leo watches from the bed like a tiny supervisor as you decide to kill time fixing your manicure and pedicure, bottle caps clicking softly as you line them up. you take your time, careful strokes, letting it dry as you lie back on the bed, leo immediately climbing onto you, warm and heavy and purring. you’re just starting to relax when the doorbell rings.

you huff a breath, heart kicking up again. “alright, alright,” you murmur as leo whines in protest when you move. you slide off the bed and head for the door, nerves buzzing, knowing exactly who it is before you even reach the handle.

you barely get the door open before they spill inside, laughter already bubbling out of them like they’ve been waiting all day for this exact moment. “okay, move, move,” bailey says, nudging past you with her elbow while laurel hooks an arm around your shoulders and steers you down the hall. you’re laughing, stumbling with them, the three of you collapsing into your room in a tangle of limbs and voices.

they sit you down on the bed like it’s a ceremony. laurel kneels behind you, already gathering your hair in her hands. “don’t move,” she warns, serious for exactly half a second before grinning. “if you do, I’m shaving it.”

bailey plops down cross legged in front of you, spreading makeup out with exaggerated care. “okay,” she announces, clapping her hands together. “i have a vision. a plan. a vibe.”

you snort. “god, help me.”

“it’s gonna give late ’90s,” bailey continues, completely unfazed, “but, like… beachy. goddessy. effortless but devastating.”

you tilt your head as she gently angles your chin toward her, playing along. “right,” you say dryly. “whatever that means.”

laurel laughs behind you, fingers working through your hair, taming it with surprising gentleness. “it means sit still and let us do our jobs.” leo watches from the bed a few inches away, eyes half lidded, tail flicking lazily like he’s supervising the whole operation.

an hour slips by without any of you noticing. they chatter about everything and nothing- work drama, waves that morning, some guy laurel ghosted, a customer bailey swears was flirting with her. they reassure you without making it obvious, slipping in casual, grounding comments between jokes, keeping your nerves from spiraling too hard.

eventually, bailey leans back, satisfied. “okay. face is done.”

laurel adds a final curl, then hums. “i’m nearly done too.” she pats your shoulder. “go easy on bailey. don’t let her bite you.”

bailey smirks and immediately stands, bee lining for your closet. you watch her with a knowing smile as she rummages, hangers clicking. “i have the perfect outfit,” she murmurs.

she pulls it out and you gulp before you can stop yourself. a simple cropped off the shoulder top. a long, flowy skirt you’d honestly forgotten you owned, floral patterned mesh, unmistakably ’90s.

bailey holds up a finger instantly. “don’t.”

“i didn’t say anything-”

“trust the mastermind,” she says firmly. you do. she hasn’t led you astray yet.

laurel nods encouragement from the bed. “go.”

you stand, heart thumping, and change while bailey fusses around you, rolling a delicate arm cuff onto your bicep. the lamp catches the metal and it gleams. she hands you your rings one by one, the ones you never take off, then steps close to fasten your favorite necklace around your neck.

“okay,” she murmurs softly. “go look.”

you turn toward the mirror.

and- oh.

your hair is half up, half down, loose but intentional, soft curls framing your face. your makeup is light, barely there, just enough to make your eyes pop, your lips painted a deep rosy maroon that feels bold without being loud. the outfit flows the way it’s supposed to, skimming your body, jewelry catching the light just right.

you look good. different. more polished than your usual shorts and bikini top, salt stuck to your skin version, but still you. still sun warmed, still golden.

you swallow, then turn back to them with a wide, stunned smile and yank them both into a hug. they laugh, squeezing you tight.

“okay,” laurel says, pulling back. “now, shoes.”

immediate chaos.

“she needs heels, she’s tiny-”

“she has good balance but i’m not torturing her-”

“i am not wearing stilettos-”

the doorbell rings, and all three of you freeze. they both whip their heads toward you. “GO,” bailey hisses. you don’t move.

“i- wait,” you say, suddenly breathless. “what if i look stupid? what if this is too much? what if-”

“enough,” laurel says, grabbing your shoulders. “you look hot. he’s gonna fold over.”

bailey nods, agreeing. “he’s gonna lose his damn mind.” they shove you gently toward the door. none of you notice leo jumping off the bed.

“okay, okay,” you mutter, heart hammering as you pad down the hallway. “i’m going-” the sound of the doorknob turning cuts you off. “oh my god,” you whisper. “shit,” behind you, the girls burst into laughter, scrambling to clean up shoes and makeup. “have fun!” bailey calls.

you break into a jog. “leo- no- don’t you dare-” too late. the door creaks open. you skid to a stop in the hallway, breath caught painfully in your chest as you look up. gerard stands there.

he freezes when he sees your expression- wide eyed, panicked, flushed- then his gaze drops to leo, sitting smugly in the doorway like he planned this. his brows lift slowly, but instead of surprise sticking, it melts into this slow, infuriating smirk that curves his mouth like he’s already enjoying himself. he crosses his arms loosely, posture relaxed, and for a second, the sight of him hits you so hard you forget how to breathe. he looks unfair.

his hair is still unmistakably his- dark, a little wild- but it’s tamed just enough, parted slightly to the side with a few strands falling across his forehead like an accident that worked out perfectly. the black button down clings to his shoulders and chest in a way that feels almost intentional, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, veins faintly visible when he moves. black bootcut jeans, the same scuffed boots you remember. familiar. dangerous. your chest tightens.

leo meows loudly, pawing at his leg like he’s impatient, and gerard’s attention drops immediately. he crouches without hesitation, scooping leo up like he’s done it a hundred times, settling him easily against his chest. “he can open doors?” gerard asks, amusement threading his voice.

you let out a breathy laugh, padding closer and leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing more to steady yourself than anything else. “he can also piss in toilets.”

gerard hums thoughtfully, eyes flicking between you and leo. “fascinating.” then, softer, almost shy but paired with that devastating grin, “could i come in?” the way he says it- like he’s asking even though he already knows the answer- makes your resolve crumble instantly.

“well,” you say, trying and failing to sound casual, “you have my son in your arms, so you might as well.” he laughs, low and warm, stepping inside as you shut the door behind him. and then- oh. you really forgot how tall he is. how much space he takes up without trying. he sets leo down gently, scratching behind his ears before straightening, and the moment he does, he’s on you. there’s no hesitation.

his hands find your waist like they belong there, confident but careful, pulling you in just enough to make you gasp. your hands slide up his chest without thinking, fingers curling into his hair as you tug him down to your height. he hums approvingly, chasing your mouth, his lips warm and insistent as they find yours.

the kiss is slow, deliberate. not rushed. like he’s savoring it. his hands slide to your back, coaxing you closer until your body arches into his instinctively. he tilts his head, deepening the kiss just enough to make your knees feel weak, and when his tongue brushes against yours, heat floods straight through you. a soft, accidental moan slips out of you, and his grip tightens in response.

“that’s it,” he murmurs against your mouth, breath warm, voice rough. “so fuckin’ gorgeous, honey. y’know that, right?”

your heart stutters. “gee-”

“my pretty girl,” he adds quietly, like it’s just for you.

you barely manage to pull him back into another kiss before you completely lose your mind, fingers tugging him closer, your body buzzing, dizzy with him. he kisses you like he’s been waiting all week to do exactly this, like friday couldn’t come fast enough.

then-

“ahem.” the sound cuts through you like cold water.

gerard pulls back with a lazy, unapologetic wet pop, absolutely unbothered, tilting his head slightly as if he’s been interrupted mid thought. you, on the other hand, groan and bury your face against his chest, mortified, heat flooding your cheeks as he lets out a soft laugh against your temple.

behind you, laurel stands there with her arms crossed and a smirk firmly in place. “woah,” she says. “okay.”

you want to physically crawl into gerard’s ribcage and disappear. your face is on fire as you huff out a breath and pull back just enough to hide, and gerard looks down at you with open, unapologetic curiosity, like he’s waiting for you to translate the moment. his hands are still warm and solid on your hips, grounding and very much present. before you can say anything coherent, bailey appears in the doorway, taking in the scene in one sharp glance. she nudges laurel with her elbow.

you clear your throat, waving vaguely between gerard and the two of them, voice quieter than you mean it to be. “uh- so. that’s laurel. who… spoke.” gerard snorts, a quick laugh slipping out, and laurel grins like she’s just won something.

bailey’s brows knit together for a second before realization dawns. “oh,” she says, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“and that’s bailey,” you rush on, desperate to keep control of the situation. “they’re my-”

“best friends,” bailey cuts in smoothly, stepping forward and extending her hand to gerard with effortless confidence. “hi.” she tugs you gently away from him as he takes her hand, introducing himself with that same easy warmth he gives everyone, but there’s something in his eyes when he looks back at you- fond, amused, unmistakably aware of you.

you groan and bury your face into bailey’s shoulder. she laughs, rocking you slightly. “breathe,” she murmurs. laurel comes over, slipping into the moment naturally, greeting gerard like this isn’t the most chaotic introduction imaginable. then she pulls you into a loose group hug, squeezing tight.

“thank you,” you mumble into them, voice small. “for… all of this.”

bailey pulls back, fixing a strand of your hair with gentle fingers, smiling. “don’t thank us, dude. also-” her eyes flick to your mouth, teasing, “very glad i used wear proof lipstick.”

You flush instantly.

laurel pats your back. “didn’t even last five minutes,” she sings softly, then grabs bailey’s wrist. “okay, okay, we’re going.”

they head for the door, waving dramatically. “have fun!” bailey calls.

“and not too much fun!” laurel adds, then winces. “wear protection- jesus- okay-” bailey drags her out, door slamming behind them amid laughter.

you groan into your hands.

gerard laughs quietly and pulls you back against him, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “i’m glad you have those two.” you laugh into his shoulder, then pull back and look up at him- and god, that face. that smile. the way he looks at you like he’s already memorized something important.

“i-” you swallow, then remember. “wait. i’ve got something for you.”

his brows lift. “yeah?”

you tug his hand and lead him into your room. he follows easily, crowding close, mouth brushing your neck until you squeak and push him back gently. “hold on,” you laugh. “behave.” he whines dramatically but lets you go. you grab the sunglasses from your nightstand and hold them out, suddenly shy. “you forgot these.”

he hums, slipping them on, then pushes them up into his hair. the effect is immediate and devastating. he grins and leans in, stealing another slow kiss, murmuring against your mouth, “thanks, baby.”

you melt for a second before pulling back again, dizzy. “shoes,” you insist. “i need shoes.” he groans but steps aside as you slide into the flip flops the girls picked, sling your small purse over your shoulder. the second you straighten, he’s back- arms around your waist, chest to your back, mouth warm against your neck.

“gotta keep remindin’ myself to be a gentleman,” he murmurs, nosing your jaw. “take you out first.”

you turn in his arms, smirking up at him, and steal a quick, open mouthed kiss before dodging away. he tries to chase you, pouting when you escape. you laugh and head to the bed, kissing leo’s head gently. “i’ll be back, okay? eat your wet food.”

gerard crouches to pet leo, who immediately nuzzles into his hand, purring loud. “he’s got good taste,” gerard says, amused.

you take gerard’s hand, smiling. “let’s go, romeo.” he kisses your temple, arm sliding around your waist as he guides you out the door, and your heart feels like it might burst.

as soon as you step outside, the air wraps around you- warm, humid, alive- with a soft ocean breeze cutting through just enough to make you inhale a little deeper. crickets have started up somewhere in the grass, their rhythm slow and steady, even though the sky is still glowing gold, the sun low and stubborn, refusing to fully set.

you lock the door, fingers lingering on the knob for a second before you turn, and gerard’s arm never leaves your waist. it’s like he’s anchoring you there, guiding you down the steps with an easy smile, his thumb absentmindedly brushing your side. “i know i already told you on the phone,” he says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want to break the mood, “but the place is only, like… ten minutes from here. i walked ‘cause i realized i’m only thirty minutes away from you now.”

you smile, warmth blooming in your chest, leaning into him as you start down the path through your neighborhood. “that’s… dangerously convenient,” you tease. “you said you’ve been there before, right?”

he hums in agreement, steering you gently as you cross the road, keeping you tucked close without making a show of it. “yeah. first week i moved here with the guys. all of us went.” a grin tugs at his mouth. “really fuckin’ good italian. but not as good as jersey italian, obviously.”

you laugh softly. “oh, obviously.”

he laughs too, the sound easy and unguarded, and the conversation slips into that comfortable rhythm you’ve found with him- small comments, shared glances, the occasional brush of fingers when you get distracted mid sentence. before you realize it, you’re there.

he steps ahead to open the door for you, cheeks flushing just slightly when you thank him, and you don’t miss the way his arm finds your waist again the moment you’re inside. the place is warm and lively, full of low chatter and clinking glasses, the kind of crowded that feels intimate instead of overwhelming.

“i’ve got a reservation,” he tells the woman at the front, voice dipping into that soft, awkward but charming tone you’ve grown embarrassingly fond of. you smile into his shoulder as she nods and gestures for you to follow, guiding you through the restaurant. it smells incredible. you still curl closer to him anyway. she leads you to a booth, sets down the menus, promises a waitress in just a minute, and walks away. gerard shifts like he’s about to slide in across from you- but your fingers catch lightly in his shirt.

he pauses, looking down at you with a gentle curiosity that makes your stomach flip. he lifts a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair back from your face, thumb lingering near your cheek. “want me to sit next to you instead?” he asks softly, head tilting. “is that it, honey?”

you nod, laughing under your breath, embarrassed but unable to stop yourself. “yeah.”

he doesn’t tease you for it. he just smiles, warm and slow, letting you slide in first before settling beside you. his thigh presses against yours immediately, solid and grounding, and he slips an arm around your waist like it’s nothing. he pulls the menu closer with his free hand and presses a light kiss to your cheek.

“sorry,” you murmur, opening your menu but not really reading it. “i just… wanna be near you. can’t help it.”

his laugh is low and fond, right by your ear. “i don’t think i’m ever gonna get tired of your honesty.” you glance up at him, shy smile tugging at your lips, and for a moment the restaurant fades into background noise- just warmth, closeness. the waitress comes over with water, and gerard thanks her politely, voice low and even, before immediately turning back to you like she vanished the second she stepped away.

“so,” he says, glancing at your menu. “you always this indecisive, or am i stressin’ you out already?”

you snort. “i just don’t trust anything that calls itself rustic.”

he laughs, full and warm. “fair. jersey would never.”

you end up ordering two dishes instead of one, because you can’t decide and he shrugs like it’s the most obvious solution. when the food comes, he slides his plate closer without a word, forks crossing naturally as you steal bites from each other, shoulders bumping, thighs pressed together under the table.

“this is really good,” you murmur, eyes widening after a bite.

“told you,” he says smugly, leaning in to steal a taste off your fork. “but yours is better.”

you glare at him. “you just wanted an excuse to eat all of it.”

he grins and kisses you anyway- quick, soft, like punctuation- before the waitress reappears. she lingers this time. laughs a little too hard at something gerard didn’t say. asks him a question that doesn’t need asking. he answers politely, briefly, eyes flicking back to you every time like a reflex. when she finally leaves, you lean in, amused. “you okay?”

he exhales through his nose. “she’s… a lot.”

you laugh under your breath. “that bad?”

“she keeps lookin’ at me like i’m supposed to perform,” he mutters, then softens immediately, thumb brushing your knee. “i’m here with you. that’s all i wanna be doin’.” your face warms, and before you can say anything clever, he kisses you again- longer this time, unhurried, like he forgot where he is. when he pulls back, your lips are tingling.

dinner stretches on like that- stories, teasing, his hand always finding you again. he kisses your temple when you laugh too hard, your jaw when you say something he likes, your mouth whenever he gets the chance. you notice the waitress across the room eventually, watching. you lean in and murmur, “she’s still staring.”

he doesn’t even look. “yeah?”

“mhm.”

he finally glances over once, unimpressed, then turns back to you, brushing your hair away from your face with slow care. “that’s her problem.”

and then he kisses you. not quick. not subtle. a deep, open mouthed kiss that makes your breath catch, his hand firm at your waist, thumb pressing into your side. you melt into it without thinking, completely forgetting where you are until he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. when you look past him, the waitress is already storming off. you laugh softly. “she left.”

“good,” he mutters, already pulling cash from his wallet and setting it on the table. no drama. no apology. he stands, takes your hand like it’s instinct, and slides his arm around your waist as he guides you out of the restaurant, the warmth of him steady and sure at your side.

you step out into the night air and it feels like the world exhales with you. the sun has dipped lower now, the sky darkening at the edges but still washed in gold, heat lingering in the pavement as a soft breeze slides through your hair. the street is busy- cars, voices, music spilling from somewhere- but none of it feels loud. gerard squints up at the sky, then groans dramatically as he slips his sunglasses back on. you laugh immediately. “you’re unbelievable.”

he shoots you an affronted look over the frames, arm tightening around your waist as if to make his point. “what? the sun is blinding as shit.”

you smirk, leaning into him on purpose. “i think my eyes built resistance to it over the past thirty years.”

he scoffs, shaking his head, then retaliates by pulling you closer and pressing his mouth to your neck. you squeal before you can stop yourself, laughter bubbling out as he nips lightly at your jaw, just teasing enough to make you flustered. “gerard,” you warn, breathless and laughing.

he grins against your skin, clearly pleased with himself, and people pass by without a second glance. no one cares. that’s just LA. you keep walking, soaking up the last of the sunlight, the warmth of him steady at your side. after a minute, his voice cuts through the noise, quieter now, hesitant in a way that makes you glance up at him.

“i know you were probably already there today,” he starts, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly into your hip, “but… do you maybe wanna walk along the beach for a bit?” he clears his throat. “if- only if you want. totally cool if not.”

you stop.

he notices immediately, insecurity flickering across his face, but before he can backpedal, you loop your arms around his neck and gently tug him to the side so you’re not in anyone’s way. you kiss him- soft, open mouthed, unhurried- and he melts into it like he’s been waiting all night, hands sliding firm and sure to your hips. he lets out a low groan that makes your smile curve into the kiss.

you pull back just enough to breathe, foreheads touching. “you really know your way to a beach girl’s heart,” you murmur fondly. “of course i wanna go with you, gee.”

he laughs, embarrassed and relieved all at once, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair. “okay. good,” he murmurs into your neck. “i just thought it’d be nice. i don’t really… do this shit.” you smile so hard it almost hurts, tugging him along as you start walking again. he looks at you like the sight alone might undo him, the sun catching your skin and jewelry just right, and his breath goes a little shaky as he keeps you close.

it’s honestly kind of hilarious the second your feet hit the sand.

you don’t even think about it- your body just knows- flip flops kicked off, toes sinking in as you scoop them up without breaking stride. gerard, on the other hand, takes one step and freezes like he’s been personally betrayed by the earth.

“oh shit,” he says immediately, face twisting as he shifts his weight. “nope. i don’t like that.” you turn just in time to see him wobble, boots half sinking, and you absolutely lose it. you fold over, cackling, laughter tearing out of you so hard your sides hurt. he stares at you for a beat and then starts laughing too, breathless, defensive. “what?” he protests. “it’s not my fault the sand’s tryin’ to suck me in or some shit.”

“you look like you’re being eaten alive,” you manage between laughs. eventually you calm enough to straighten up, wiping at your eyes, and you walk back toward him, hands gentle as you coax. “c’mon. you gotta take ‘em off, gee.” you raise your brows dramatically. “feel the sand. become one with it.”

he groans like you’ve asked him to commit a crime. “i do not do this shit.” but he looks at you- still smiling, still glowing in that sunset light- and sighs. “jesus christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and toes off his boots with a couple of muttered curses.

you grin, reaching for his hand the second his bare feet hit the sand. he flinches, then exhales, ocean air whipping around you both as you tug him gently forward. “see?” you say lightly. “doesn’t it feel nice?”

he snorts, pulling you back into him, arms sliding around your waist with practiced ease. “yeah,” he deadpans. “love the feelin’ of sand mites crawlin’ between my toes.”

you groan, burying your face into his shoulder as he cackles, the sound carrying across the beach. “my skin’s been fine all these years, you big baby.”

he hums, kissing your temple, voice softer now. “i’m just messin’ with you, honey.” a pause. “our shoes gonna get stolen if we walk?”

you laugh and tug him toward the shoreline, wind picking up, cool and refreshing. “unless someone really wants old scuffed boots and flimsy flip flops, i think we’re safe.” he lets you guide him, fingers laced. you walk along the waterline, waves hissing in and out, kids’ laughter far enough away to feel distant, locals scattered with radios and blankets.

“so,” he says after a bit, nudging you with his shoulder, “you come here a lot?”

“all the time,” you reply. “if i don’t get in the water at least once a day, i get weird.”

he smiles. “that explains a lot.”

“excuse you?”

he shrugs innocently. “just sayin’. you move like someone who belongs out here.”

you glance up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity under the tease. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you counter. “for a guy who thinks sand is out to get him.”

he laughs, squeezing your hand. “high praise.”

and then- faint, almost easy to miss- it drifts over the water.

that song.

your steps slow without you meaning to. your chest tightens. your jaw locks. it feels like the sound reaches straight through you and grabs something old and sore, something you thought you’d tucked away.

gerard feels it immediately. “hey,” he murmurs, stopping with you, turning his body toward yours. his hands come up without asking, thumbs brushing your jaw and cheek, grounding. “hey. i got you.”

your lip wobbles. you try to breathe. he shushes you softly, forehead touching yours, and kisses you slow and gentle, like he’s reminding you where you are. a tear slips free anyway. “that song,” you whisper, embarrassed and shaky. “it’s-”

“i know,” he says quietly. not pushing. not asking for more than you can give. “you don’t gotta explain it.” he pulls you closer by the hips, solid and warm, his voice low and steady. “you’re here with me. on the beach. it’s warm. you’re safe.” you nod against his shoulder, fingers tangling in his hair. he keeps talking softly, like he’s guiding you back. “feel the sand. hear the waves. that song can’t hurt you out here.”

it works. slowly. your breathing evens out. when you pull back, he smiles at you- soft, devastating. “there you are.”

you laugh weakly. “you’re really good at that, you know.”

“at what?”

“finding me when i drift.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “guess i’m just payin’ attention.” the song keeps playing, but it’s quieter now, farther away. gerard suddenly breaks into a grin. “race you to the water.”

“what- no-” you laugh as he takes off, chasing you down the sand. you squeal, running, hair flying, laughter ripping out of you as he catches you around the waist and spins you, both of you breathless. he lowers you gently, foreheads touching, and kisses you again- warm, reassuring, unhurried.

“i got you,” he murmurs one more time. eventually, when the sun has dipped low enough and the air cools, he gathers your shoes, guiding you to the rinse station, water splashing over your feet as he keeps an arm snug around your waist. “i’ll walk you back,” he says softly, like it’s not even a question. and all the way home, he never lets go.

you’re back on your porch before it really sinks in, the walk somehow shorter than it should’ve been. the house is quiet behind you, the night wrapped around everything- warm wood under your feet, the ocean air still clinging to your skin. he stops with you, hands settling properly at your waist, thumbs steady like he knows you need the grounding. you look up at him and your breath stutters.

he’s been looking at you like this all night. like this since the first time, really. like he’s taking you in carefully, like he doesn’t want to rush whatever this is but also can’t help how much he feels it. the porch light is off, moonlight doing all the work instead, soft and silver across his face. he lifts a hand and brushes a knuckle along your cheek, slow and deliberate. your fingers curl into his biceps without thinking- eyes fluttering shut, and he lets out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound.

“hey,” he murmurs, voice low and rough in that gentle way that always makes your stomach flip. “thank you for lettin’ me take you out tonight.” he pauses, like he needs the words to land right. “it really means a lot t’me. seriously.” you open your eyes just in time to see him push his sunglasses up into his hair, the motion so familiar it makes you grin. the laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it, and he laughs too, softer, relieved.

you tug him down by the collar without warning and kiss him. it’s slow at first, open mouthed and unhurried, and his eyes widen for a second before he melts into it, hands tightening at your waist. he kisses you back like he’s been holding it in, tongue brushing against yours, heat building until you gasp and pull him closer, unable to help it.

you break apart dizzy, foreheads touching, both of you breathing hard and smiling like idiots. “don’t,” you say, a little breathless, a little earnest. “you don’t have to thank me for this. i wanted it. all of it.”

his smile softens into something almost reverent, and he leans in to kiss you again, gentler this time, murmuring against your lips, “yeah? i’m really glad t’hear that.” you just look at each other for a second, the moment stretching- until his confidence falters. he clears his throat, gaze dropping, a flush creeping up his neck. “i should probably head out,” he says, hesitant now. “don’t wanna keep you up too late if you’ve got that mornin’ shift, right?”

you frown before he can finish, hands sliding down to lace with his. “i switched shifts,” you say easily. “figured you’d stay tonight.” a small smile. “i want you here, gee.”

he gulps, clearly not expecting that, and then the tension drains out of him all at once. he pulls you into his chest, making you squeal as he kisses you again, relief and heat tangled together. “thank fuckin’ god,” he mutters, smiling into the kiss.

you laugh, pulling back just long enough to fumble with the key and unlock the door. the second it clicks shut behind you, he doesn’t waste a second- his arms slide around your thighs, tightening as he lifts you effortlessly. a gasp escapes you, your hands flying to his shoulders as laughter bubbles out, mingling with his. he pulls you into a hot, slow kiss that's somehow both gentle and deeply needy, walking you blindly toward your room.

between open mouthed kisses, he murmurs against your lips, “jus’ wanna kiss you more, honey, s’that okay?”

you moan into his mouth, your legs instinctively tightening around his waist as he steps into your room. “fuck- yes, please- wait,” you pull back, and he whines softly from the loss of contact, immediately kissing along your jawline. you stutter, “wait- is leo on the bed?”

gerard’s eyes flick around the room for a split second before he kicks your door closed with his boot. “nah, saw him chillin’ on the couch in the living room. we’re okay.” you just hum, letting him gently guide you back onto your bed as he places his sunglasses on your nightstand- and the moment you land, he's on you again, his body covering yours.

your arms immediately loop around his neck, legs tightening around his waist as he devours your mouth, licking into it and gently nipping at your lower lip. you moan, kissing him deeper, desperate for more, rutting your hips upward. his own hips grind down in response, and you both moan, panting against each other as you pull away with a wet pop. his denim clad bulge rocks lazily against your damp panties, and the friction is maddening.

suddenly, you sit up, his eyes widening as you start stripping out of your top. your voice is thick with need. “get undressed, right fucking now, gee.”

he seems frozen for a second, just watching as you kick off your flip flops, unclip your bra next. your skirt and panties follow in a flurry of movement until you’re completely bare besides the jewelry still glittering against your skin. you lie back down, your thighs falling apart in a silent invitation. he kneels at the foot of the bed, his brain clearly short circuiting as he finally catches up- right when you drag your delicate fingers down to your dripping folds. you bite your plush lower lip as your middle and ring fingers rub tight circles into your throbbing clit.

“holy shit, baby- fuck-” his voice is hoarse. his forehead falls to your knee as he hastily unbuttons his shirt, nosing along your inner thigh as he rips the fabric off. his eyes are blown wide as he looks down at you, and you whine louder at the sensitivity of slowly rubbing your clit, more wetness pooling down your inner thighs from his stare. he continues, sounding completely wrecked as he kicks off his boots, “don’t do that shit when i can’t get these fuckin’ tight ass jeans off- fuck-”

you smirk as he finally yanks his jeans and briefs down in one go, his hot, heavy, glistening cock slapping against his stomach. you moan at the sight, and before you can even react, he’s caging you in. his hand moves yours from your clit, guiding your arms around his neck as he pulls you in another hot, desperate kiss. then his hands brush down your sides to your thighs, hooking them around his waist. you try to tease, your voice breathless. “not gonna fold your clothes?”

he groans into your shoulder, nipping the flesh. his voice is deep, vibrating through you. “i’ll do it after i fuck you, yeah?”

you swallow hard, giving a small, shaky nod as he lowers himself over you again. your body reacts on instinct, arms and legs locking around him, pulling him closer, needing the reassurance of his weight. he meets you in a deep, consuming kiss, a low hum of approval vibrating against his lips right before he grinds his bare cock against your slick, swollen folds. the raw friction is electric. you both gasp into the kiss, a shared, intimate sound. the feeling of him, hot and uncovered against you, is dizzying, a brand new level of closeness that sends a jolt straight to your heart.

he chases your mouth when you try to pull back for air, panting against your lips. “jesus,” he rasps, his voice full of awe. “feel that? god... you feel incredible.” his lips leave a burning trail down your neck, his tongue swirling over your pulse point in a rhythm that matches the slow, deliberate grind of his hips. each upward drag of his cock catches perfectly on your throbbing clit. you arch, a silent plea for more, and he rewards you by sucking a dark, possessive bruise into your skin.

“god, gee,” you pant, your hips rolling up to meet his. “please... i need you. now.” a guttural groan tears from his throat. in a single, fluid motion, the head of his cock notches at your entrance. your greedy hole clenches, trying to pull him in, but he freezes, a look of sudden panic crossing his face.

“wait- fuck, wait,” he breathes, pulling back just enough. “condom. shit, m’sorry, baby, i wasn’t thinkin’-”

you cut him off, grabbing his face and pulling him down in a deep kiss. with your other hand, you grip his cock, guiding the slick head right back to where you need it. “i don’t care,” you pant against his mouth. “i wanna feel you. just... fuck me, gee. please.”

his control shatters. he groans, sinking into you inch by torturous inch, his face buried in your neck. “oh, god... thank you,” he slurs, his voice thick with emotion. “you- you sure? i-” you silence him with a hand tangled in his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours.

he kisses you deeply, his cock stilling inside you for a breathtaking second, letting you adjust. then, he pulls out almost completely, only to slide back in, deep and slow. you gasp, and he smiles against your lips, setting a pace that’s immediately deep and intimate. the feeling of his bare cock dragging against your clenching walls is overwhelming, your head spinning with every deep thrust.

“gee- fuck- y’feel so-”

he laughs, a low, breathless sound. "i feel so, what, baby? c’mon, tell me. use your words.” you can only whine in response, and he nips at your neck in playful punishment. his arms hook under your knees, folding you in half. the new angle is intimate, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, slick with your arousal, echoing in the room. he’s so deep it feels like he’s touching your soul. “oh, my poor baby,” he coos, his voice a gentle tease. “this too much for you? that pretty little head of yours all fuzzy?”

you moan, flushing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. he imitates your moan back at you, a high pitched, exaggerated sound that makes you yank his hair. he groans in approval, his lopsided grin widening.

“you’re mean,” you pant.

“sorry, baby,” he murmurs, his tone softening slightly even as his hips snap harder. “you’re just too fuckin’ beautiful when you’re all ruined like this. drivin’ me crazy, y’know that?”

the pressure inside you builds to an unbearable peak. “gee- m’close- fuck, don’t stop-” in a move that makes your head spin, he hooks your legs over his shoulders. his biceps flex as he pulls your hips up, folding you nearly in half and sinking impossibly deeper.

he leans down, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to one of your knees, then the other, his tongue darting out to taste the salty skin there. the sight is so unexpectedly tender it makes your heart ache. he kneels, using the new leverage to fuck into you with a renewed, desperate fervor. “then let go for me, honey,” he slurs, his voice impossibly deep as he mouths at your knee. “c’mon, i’ve got you...”

your orgasm rips through you, a blinding wave of pleasure that makes you cry out his name. he groans, fucking you through every spasm, his hips never slowing. as you come down, a desperate haze settles over you.

“don’t pull out,” you beg, your legs falling and locking around his waist. “stay... please stay inside-”

“fuck- okay,” he chokes out, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “yeah, okay...” his hips stutter, and then you feel it- the hot, thick pulse of him filling you. he rocks into you slowly, making sure you take every last drop. you pull him down for a messy, breathless kiss, his hips still moving lazily inside you. “unfuckin’ real,” he murmurs against your lips. “you’re so unreal...”

you melt into him without thinking, hands curling into his shoulders, mouth finding his again like you’re afraid the moment might slip away if you don’t hold it tight. he smiles against your lips, dizzy and soft, the kiss slower now, unhurried. your voice comes out hoarse, but teasing. “i don’t think i’m gonna be able to surf tomorrow.”

he pulls back immediately with a quiet, startled sound, lips parting with a soft pop. his hazel eyes go wide, panic flashing across his face so fast it’s almost funny. “wait- shit- are you okay? i-” you laugh, bright and breathless, and tug him back down before he can spiral, kissing him deep enough that his worry dissolves on the spot. he melts right back into you, forehead dropping to yours as he exhales.

“m’sorry, baby,” he murmurs, sheepish and warm. “got carried away.” you slide your fingers into his hair, gentler now, slowing him down, kissing him again before pulling back just enough to look at him. he’s flushed, hair wrecked, lips swollen, and the sight of him like this makes your chest ache in the best way.

“hey,” you say softly, brushing your nose against his. “enough of that. i wanted this. all of it.” his shoulders relax at that, a smile breaking through as he dips to your neck, kissing there like he’s dreaming, like he’s memorizing you. you hum, amused, carding your fingers through his hair. “so,” you add lightly, “you gonna fold your clothes now, or…?”

he groans and laughs at the same time, breath warm against your skin. “you’re evil.”

before he can say anything else, the door suddenly slams open.

he yelps, jerking his head up. “holy shit- what the fuck-” you burst out laughing, head tipping back against the pillows as he groans and drops his face back into your neck, shaking with laughter. “fuckin’ forgot he could do that,” he mutters.

leo sits in the doorway, completely unbothered, licking his paw like he’s walked in on nothing interesting at all. he pads over, hops onto the bed, sniffs once with his ears pinned back in vague judgment, then settles down with a dramatic huff. you smile at the sight, heart full.

gerard lifts his head, glances at leo, then back at you, that soft, devastating grin returning. “i think,” he says quietly, “i could get used to this.”

⋆˙⟡ the sign ups for activities and clubs start on the first to second week of hogwarts after the first issue of hogwarts herald is printed, Its a smaller issue than the standard one, welcoming students back with a simple guide for first years and a complete lists of all clubs and yearly news we might need. students may pick only 2 a year. once that issue is out students can go to the classrooms/teachers/students mentioned there and ask to sign up and sort themselves out. You best be quick tho! because students are competitive and all good clubs get snatched up in a day or two(you dont wanna get stuck in the troll studies club, yikes).

⋆˙⟡ extracurriculars are held on the weekends. fridays are half days and the weekends are free which is when sports matches, competitions, clubs and activities are held. one hour may be dedicated to each of the two clubs you’ve signed up for. (it doesnt cut from hogsmeade and free time or study time) though committee members have to dedicate time independently because the work bleeds into the weekdays.

⋆˙⟡ its quite common for students or people to send owls to the bank or their parents to have a certain sum of money drawn out of the vault and sent over, they require your magical signatures on paper to check the authenticity and make sure to mail the sum in a day or two.  (cause there aren't any bankcards and galleons are HEAVY so i wont be carrying that around thank yew)

⋆˙⟡ Screw christmas and easter. We celebrate Yule(pagan winter), Samhain (pagan halloween where the veil between the living and the dead is the most thin), Ostara (pagan spring/easter) and Beltane (start of summer). The wizarding world is pagan centric because duh.

⋆˙⟡ 2 massive and beautiful bonfires for Beltane where students might jump over the fire for luck on their N.E.W.T.s or to deal with nerves before asking their crush out. The beltane fire festival is a cozy but lively night of music and dancing and warm chatter. the castle would be filled with flower enchantments-- blooms growing out of the stone walls and floating petals in the Great Hall. 

⋆˙⟡ Ostara picnics are summery but fresh and fun!! Students lay down on the green grass of the grounds and swim in hidden cove pools near the black lake. theres finger foods and punch/lemonade which the elves prepare with the help of students where we put up tables of foods and have a fundraiser for a cause. dumbledores all for it and even snape finds it disgustingly wholesome.

⋆˙⟡ the walls of the Great Hall feels distant. Even with 800 voices, the acoustic magic of the enchanted ceiling absorbs the echoes, so it sounds like a manageable and pleasant chatter rather than a roar of voices. the four house tables are long but broken into sections with walk-through gaps every 10 feet for easy movement.

⋆˙⟡ bioluminescence in different, pretty colours like pink, green, orange, blue, etc.. are always visible on wizarding beaches.  Bainburgh is a stormy coastal settlement along the southeastern highlands where the north sea keeps the weather unpredictable and wind salty. its a working coastal village with magical fishermen, pearl traders and magizoologists who come for the kelpie sightings. tucked away from the windy coast is a well known pearl and sea glass shop that sells jewels infused with charms. Bainburgh is damp, misty, filled with the crash of waves and distant cry of the seabirds alive just like the restless sea. older hogwarts students sometimes make trips here for creative observation. (credits: @pearlquill on tiktok, they're a wonderful creator with hella cool posts so check them out!!)

⋆˙⟡ Theres a chipper in hogsmeade that sells burgers, pies, lasagna, casseroles, fries etc with cola floats, mocktails, drinks, rootbeer etc (that taste just as if not better than muggle ones because i cant give up fast food) 

⋆˙⟡ Wand snapping isn't a legal punishment unless incase of death or life sentences. wands are usually impounded and can be won back by a long court procedures or till your sentence is over. (because in the original lore flipping EXPULSION could lead to your wand being snapped, no trial)

⋆˙⟡ the portraits know everything about everyone somehow but theyre very protective, like aunties, theyre nosy but for their own entertainment, they dont snitch to professors and dont give sensitive info to other students unless they have a bone to pick. 

⋆˙⟡ wizarding cold creams for shaving. you just lather it and scoop it away and it takes it allll away like no ingrown hair or bumps, nothingggg. self cleaning clothes exist as well as period products and pain numbing potions for cramps and mental fatigue/stability. 

⋆˙⟡ kneazles have a more funky look to them in a visually pleasing way. they are more colourful and have spots/flecks/stripes/swirls with different eye colors. Puffskeins dont eat boogers (they actually do in lore ew) they eat wrappers. Owls have a keen sense of direction and travel fast, and Toads are just the familiars to test nonsense potions or charms on due to their sturdiness.

IM SO HAPPY WHENEVER YOU UPDATE THE FIC THIS IS SO COOL!!

you write emotional scenes SO WELL and honestly EVERYTHING its so awesome dude! :D you also managed to organise it perfectly between the comedy, tragedy, action (theres probably better words, but im no writer to understand)

LOVE THE STORY SO FAR!! DONT PUSH YOURSELF THO ALSO REMEMBER TO HYDRATE

thank you for writing this <3 very excited

AAAAWE THANK YEW!!

I'm excited for my own chapters as well, I forget I'm the writer

I DOODLED THIS FOR FUN