Polaroid Pictures
Pairing: Stalker!Perv!Gerard Way x AFAB! Reader
tags: (slight?) noncon, smut, degradation, stalking behavior, obsessive behavior, penetration, dirty talk, power play, power roles reversed, possessive behavior, swearing, teasing, overstimulation, fluff, aftercare, reader highkey just as freaky as gee, creampie, sub gee to dom gee
word count: 5248
Summary: Gerard was a boy in your class whom you got paired up with for a project. You agree to work on it with him at his dorm, and you find out Gerard has known more about you than he has been letting on... You decide to make him snap.
A/N: okay guys. this is just straight-up smut with a slight plot. i love perv gerard so much writing this was so fun, i hope u guys love just as much as me. my editing was very minimal so i apologize for any mistakes. ps if anyone cares, its canon y/n takes birth control now ;P
Gerard Way had a weird charm to him… If you could even call it that.
You met him in one of your classes, beginning of the fall semester, when you two were paired together for a book report. He was very nerdy with a slouched posture that obviously lacked confidence. You didn’t even notice him the first few weeks of class until the project came along… He was quiet, avoided eye contact, and was always scribbling these elaborate doodles in his notebook. His dark clothes were always wrinkled, and his greasy hair somehow always seemed a few too many washes overdue... There isn’t a time you can think of where Gerard didn’t have greasy hair.
Despite all of this, there was something about the way he acted. The way he tripped over his words when he was flustered, or the way you could see his eyes light up when he could talk about anything comic or horror-related. Pathetic, yes, but weirdly endearing. His passion was strong and genuine, a quality that seems rarer every day. You couldn’t help but be curious.
That evening, you found yourself outside his dorm room on a Friday, knocking lightly, nerves starting to buzz. Which was ridiculous. This is Gerard. Why were you nervous now? You have no reason to be.
You stood there for more than a few seconds before knocking again, in case you weren’t loud enough. From inside, you heard a loud thud.
What was that?
You leaned in towards the door to listen, eyebrows raised, and heard muttered curses which were followed by frantic footsteps.
The door swung open, and Gerard stood there awkwardly with a lopsided smile. Behind him was the exact kind of space you’d imagine him to live in, a cramped single dorm, walls plastered with comic memorabilia and posters from alternative bands, most noticeably a massive Smashing Pumpkins poster above his bed. Though it was very dirty, you had to appreciate the personality that was shown.
“Uh- Hi,” he stammered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Sorry, it’s such a mess. I didn’t even realize the time because I got distracted and I… yeah. Here, come in.” He finished his rambling as he shifted on his feet nervously, his cheeks a little flushed as he kept habitually adjusting his hair. His eyes kept darting from you to the floor as if holding your gaze might kill him.
You gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ve seen worse, don’t worry about it,” you lied. Poor guy.
You took a few steps in, getting a better look at the place. There were sketchbooks and empty cans stacked all over the place, a few DVDs scattered across his desk. He had a few shelves filled with comic issues and action figures, which made you giggle to yourself. All you could imagine is Gerard reading the comics with his action figures in hand and acting out the scenes from the series with them.
“Ah, wait- here,” Gerard blurted, rushing forward. He brushed the DVDs and a few paper piles onto the floor in a frantic attempt to make it look presentable. “You can set your stuff on my desk here,” he stammered. He then motioned toward the low-rise coffee table at the center of the room and laid a pillow down for you to use as a seat. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a cluttered mess on top. He must have had time to organize this part before you came.
So, you and Gerard sat criss-crossed at the table with your laptops open, notebooks sprawled out with your colorful pens and markers. Gerard had put on a record to prevent the silence, “Louder than Bombs,” by The Smiths, an album you enjoyed and found quite intimate on its own. The soft glow of the corner lamp on his desk, besides the bright computer screens, had filled the room with a strangely intimate glow. Every time you shifted a bit to get more comfortable, your knee brushed his.
Gerard hunched over his notebook as he continued annotating the assigned book. It was filled with little tabs to mark pages; you smiled when you noticed. He was putting in a significant amount of effort, mostly from outside preparation for this meeting, because he was currently pretty distracted. His knee bounced rhythmically, and he twirled his pen every once in a while; his lip stayed caught between his teeth as he lightly chewed. Every other second, you’d notice his eyes flick toward you, only to dart away when you looked back.
It was… cute? In its own awkward, kinda pathetic way, it was cute.
When you reached to grab your water, you knocked some pens over, causing them to roll down under the couch. You tsk’d and reached under, not far under, and felt something else. It was a stack of thin, stiff but bendable layers. Comics naturally were your first thought, but this material had been too stiff to be paper. Photos, maybe?
You abandoned your highlighter and grabbed that instead. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you. You can’t help it!
Out came a small stack of Polaroids, bound with a rubber band.
You blinked at them, curiosity sparking, while Gerard found it in himself to finally focus on the project rather than trying to sneak glances at you. He was writing something down after highlighting a section of the book. You slipped the band slowly, trying not to make any noise, and you began to flip through the stack.
Your chest tightened.
It was all you.
Walking across campus. Waiting at the bus stop. Laughing with a friend. Sipping coffee. Your face and body had been captured from a distance without you even realizing. Some of the photos were even of you doing more intimate actions, tying up your hair… bending over to pick up something you dropped…
You in your dorm room window.
You froze as your stomach began to twist with shock, and soon something… darker. Slowly, you pulled one of the photos where your skirt had been hiked up a bit and set it to your right, face-up on the table, in between the two of you.
Gerard glanced over absentmindedly, hard at work, and then completely froze. His hand stopped writing mid-sentence, causing some ink to pool on his paper where his pen had stopped. His eyes locked with the photo, and his face drained of color.
Though his voice worked perfectly fine before, everything caught in his throat. No words came out, just a strangled noise, like he had been caught in headlights.
Your eyes flicked up to him, watching as the panic began to grow on his face. God, he looked so pathetic with his cheeks flushed and lip trembling slightly, his mouth opened and closed, fumbling for the right words to say. To somehow save himself from this situation.
“…W-where did you—“ he started, voice cracking.
“Under the couch,” you interrupted him, smoothly. You sat there with confidence, in control of the situation. He had to bend to you.
You held up another photo, looking at it closely in front of him in the warm lamp light. “These are… interesting, Gerard.”
“Shit I- No, I just— Fuck, look, I can explain,” he stammered, not able to fully form a sentence as he suddenly flew forward to attempt to grab the photos, but you snapped your wrist back, smirking.
You were enjoying this.
“You can explain?” Your tone was teasing, light, like this was all a game to you. Because in a way, it turned into one to get what you wanted.
“So… you just accidentally followed me across campus with a camera? You accidentally,” you took a look at a random photo in the stack, “took a photo of me in a skirt on a windy day? And let’s not ignore the fact that some of these- some of these are from last school year. I didn’t even know you existed last school year.”
His eyes were wide as you berated him, and his hands were hovering helplessly in the air before letting them fall back into his lap in defeat. He looked like he wanted to sink through the floor and fall through the Earth.
How could he have been so careless? He finally got his chance with you, to have you so close to him finally, and he blew it.
However, you continued to flip through the polaroids, landing on one with you bent over a desk in a library, your foot crossed over the other as you leaned down. The angle was from behind; you couldn’t see up your skirt, but it looked very suggestive. How did he even take this without anyone noticing? How long has he been doing this?
Your smile sharpened, “Wow. You really are a little creep, aren’t you?“
He shuddered at your words, his breath hitched as shame washed over his face. And yet you noticed it. The way his thighs squeezed together and his breathing began to quicken. The way his pants suddenly seemed to get too tight. The way his hand quickly shot down to cover himself under the table, hoping you wouldn’t notice.
Oh.
You really had him now.
You couldn’t help but feel so powerful from this situation. You knew you could do anything, and he would take it. All because you’re you. You let out a bubbly and playful laugh, though it wasn’t anything other than cruel, “Oh my god. Seriously? You’re actually hard right now? From me calling you a creep?”
Gerard let out a whimper as if he had been hurt; his face wasn’t any other color than red. The worst thing was that he couldn’t defend himself. It was all true. He didn’t dare to look at you, now, eye contact would kill him.
You leaned in closer, playfully sliding the Polaroids closer to him on the table. The stack lay out in front of you as if it were evidence for a trial. Your eyes trained on him as your voice dropped to a syrupy sweet tone, “Pathetic. You like me finding out how much of a perv you are. You wanted me to find out, didn’t you?”
His breathing grew uneven once again, his lips parting like he might start begging for forgiveness. Or just start crying. It was hard to tell from his facial expression.
And that’s when you realized how much control over him you had. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself.
“Didn’t you?” You repeated as Gerard struggled to come up with a response.
“I mean- Don’t get me wrong. I noticed the way you’d stare at me across the room in class. You were so obvious, so I assumed you had a crush, but this… this is pathetic. You’re pathetic.”
Gerard’s entire body had flinched at the word. His face heated up to where it burned, his thighs pressing so tight together that you had seen his knees shake.
You leaned closer to him over the coffee table, your voice intoxicatingly soft and sweet, “But you like it when I say that, don’t you?”
He whined as your breath hit his ear, “I— No, I—“ he couldn’t speak, and at this point, his hips were speaking for him. He shifted and stuttered, looking for friction from the fabric of his jeans, full of desperation.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my God. You’re humping the air. That’s so fucking adorable.”
He choked out a noise; his eyes had not left the floor. Setting the photo down, you crawled onto the coffee table, your knees knocking against the wood. You leaned until your face was inches from his, “Look at me, Gerard.”
He immediately obeyed. His wide, glossy hazel eyes shone with humiliation and pure lust.
“Good boy,” you whispered. His lips parted as if your words had shot right through him.
Moving your hand to his chest, you then trailed a finger down, stopping right above his waistband. His stomach moved from his nervous breathing, and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle.
He’s so fucking adorable.
You didn’t touch further, just lazily circled your finger along the waistband where he was straining and twitching.
“You’ve taken dirty pictures of me,” you murmured to him, “but now, you can’t even ask me to touch you? Do you even want me that bad?”
His voice hitched as he quickly replied, “Please.” It came out as a raspy beg.
“Please what?” You were evil.
He squeezed his eyes shut, face burning as he felt the embarrassment creep up on him, “Please… touch me.”
You grinned, “Mmm, you see, I just don’t think you deserve it. Creepy perverts like you don’t get what they want, ya know?” You sat back down, opposite side of the table, removing your hand, giving some distance from Gerard, which caused a look of alarm to wash over his face. He wanted you to himself.
“They get laughed at.”
He let out a sound that can only be described as half a groan and half a whine. You almost felt pity for him… almost.
Instead, you made direct eye contact with him, a smirk slowly growing on your face as you slid your foot up to his shin under the table, teasing him as you slowly moved your way up to his inner thigh. His legs automatically opened, and he even inched closer. He was desperate for you to take him right then and there, but you only played along his inner thigh and moved back down, over and over.
Your foot grazed higher than before, and his breath hitched so that it came out as a strangled gasp, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the low coffee table, as if it was the only thing holding him back.
“Fuck,” he whispered, low and gravelly.
Tilting your head, you feigned innocence, “What’s wrong, Gerard? Shouldn’t we get back to work? There’s a big project waiting for us…”
His eyes finally met yours. Wide. Glassy. You could see he was on the edge of breaking..
“Pathetic,” you murmured, drawing your foot away completely. You stood, circling the table with a deliberate slowness before settling down beside him on the floor. You leaned in close enough for your lips to brush his ear as you whispered, “You’ll never get what you want from me.”
That did it.
The sound that escaped Gerard’s mouth wasn’t the pitiful, pathetic whimpers from before. No, this was guttural. As quickly as you blinked, Gerard grabbed you by your waist, pulling you up and pinning you down on the couch behind the two of you with ease. You gasped as his strong hands gripped you, holding you down tightly. He hovered his body over yours, his knee right in between your thighs.
“Don’t—“ his voice cracked, he was panting with a slight tremble as his hair fell in his face as he leaned over you, looking down. “Don’t fuck with me like that. Not anymore.” His hands had moved to pin your wrists above your head to the couch. There was a desperation in his tight grip that you knew he would not let go. Ever.
You stared up at the flushed boy above you; your initial wide-eyed face of shock had grown into a smirk. This feral change within him was something you wanted. You loved seeing just how far it would take for him to snap.
“Finally,” you teased softly, despite no longer being in control, “I knew I could rile you up…”
His grip tightened, and there was a new look in his eye, dark and wild, like you had just permitted him to ruin you. And for the first time that night, Gerard smirked, knowing that after all those pleas, he got what he wanted.
Your lips parted to speak, but you never got to start. Gerard didn’t wait to hear whatever quip you had to make. His mouth crashed into yours. It was a frantic, messy, and desperate kiss, his tongue now darting in. He kissed you like his life depended on it, and in a way, he felt like it did. You had been his life for so long now, every day you had been his every thought. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape you. It was like he had been starving for this, and even if he wanted to pace himself, he couldn’t. You tasted too damn good.
Your wrists struggled against his grip; you wanted nothing more than to tug at his shirt, run your fingers through his hair, unbuckle his belt, but Gerard was in control now. And you were going at his pace.
Gerard pulled back, and you whined from the loss of contact, causing him to scoff to himself.
He dipped down to kiss you again before muttering against your lips, “Fuck—“ he dragged his lips down to your jaw, kissing as he went to your throat, now sucking bruises onto your skin, licking them softly after as an apology for the pain, marking you as his. He finally got you, and he wanted people to know.
His lips brushed your ear, leaving a slow, deliberate kiss before whispering, “I think about you…” His mouth moved down your throat, the words buzzing against your skin. “Every fucking…” He stopped at the low dip of your shirt, kissing along the exposed skin of your chest. “Every fucking night.” He buried his face against you, inhaling you like he was starving, while his knee pressed firmly between your thighs.
His confession, muffled against your chest, made your stomach twirl and flip in all sorts of directions. You had never been worshiped in such a way before; you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. All you could do was whimper beneath him and grind down on his knee, begging for more.
He pulled up to look down on you, “I touched myself to those photos, to your face, your body, fuck— I can’t stop.” His hands left your wrists, but you didn’t dare move them; you let him do as he pleased. His hands roam your body, grabbing your waist, sliding up your shirt. He trembled with lust, unsure if he wanted to worship or ruin you now.
And God- you realized you had won. This is what you wanted. See this pathetic loser crumble beneath you until he snapped. His confession lit something in you, something hungry, something dark. Your hands flew to his hair to tug, then you hooked your legs around his hips and dragged him hard down against you, grinding up on him. He groaned, low and guttural, grinding back into you desperately, his head dipping down to your neck, muttering swears.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, moving to tug at your shirt, up and over your head. His breathing was heavy as he returned to kissing you desperately, hands now fumbling with the button of your shorts. He tugged them down, now having successfully stripped you down to your bra and panties.
And then, he froze.
Gerard pulled back, hovering above you. His frantic breathing calmed into long, shaky breaths as his eyes swept over you. The soft glow from the lighting made you look absolutely beautiful as the shadows danced along your curves. Your hair was fanned out across the cushions, messy from his hands, and you’d never seen anyone look at you the way he did.
His lips parted, but no voice came out. He couldn’t form any words, even though his mind was thinking one thing. Just how much he adored you.
His wide, glossy eyes shimmered, overwhelmed. A tear pricked at the corner of his eye, running down.
“You’re… god, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking like it hurt him to say it out loud.
Desperation no longer was driving him; he was awestruck. He couldn’t believe you were even real; you were someone Gerard could’ve only dared to dream about. He completely marveled at your beauty.
And then, with a shaky breath and hand, he cupped your face, and you put your hand over his. He dipped down, the hunger taking over him at your reciprocation. He was more frantic than before, and you happily matched his pace, your heart hammering. He cupped your face as his other hand slid down to your thigh, pulling you closer to let your core feel just how hard he was.
His hands are now fumbling with the clasp of your bra. As it finally snapped free, he let out a sigh, almost a moan, and pulled the straps from your shoulders and tossed it aside.
“Jesus Christ,” Gerard breathed, his eyes taking in the sight of you now bare. His eyes shone with awe and lust. He dipped down, latching his mouth onto your breast and nipping and sucked rhythmically. When he bit down a bit harder, you hissed, only for him to immediately soothe the spot with his tongue and gentle kisses. Still, he couldn’t help but bite a few more times to elicit those noises again, after all, he suffered for so long to get here… you could take a little pain.
You arched as he dragged his teeth along your collarbones. Your hands tugged at his shirt, begging him to take it off. He smirked to himself— finally, you wanted him just as badly as he’d always wanted you. He happily obliged and took his shirt off, quickly returning to your body with adoring kisses. As your back arched up towards him, he left a wet trail of kisses down the center of your chest to your stomach, before coming back up to kiss your swollen lips.
He began to fumble with his belt, whining as he struggled to unbuckle it, which caused you to help him. You undid it with just as much haste as he had, if not faster, and tugged them down. He kicked off his pants, leaving you both in your underwear.
Honestly, both of you were so excited. So turned on. So, so desperate for each other.
“I— Fuck,” you swore to yourself, your face hotter than you’d ever felt. You have never been this turned on, and the humiliating truth? It was because of Gerard Way that you got this hot and bothered.
Gerard looked down at you with that sexy smirk you now couldn’t get enough of. “What was that?” he asked sweetly, “Use your words, sweetheart…” he instructed you, his voice coming out low and velvety.
“P-please.. just— I need you so bad. So bad, Gerard,” you breathed into his ear, pulling his head to your shoulder. You nipped at his ear, tempting him to go further.
He pulled up and rested his forehead against yours, “Are you sure?” He paused, “I won’t be able to stop…”
That’s the point.
“That’s okay.”
And he leaned in for another tender kiss. Then bit your lip teasingly and pulled back to position himself between your thighs. He shoved his underwear off and let out a shaky, desperate whimper as his cock pressed against your soaked panties. He began to grind himself on you, already as hard as he could be.
The lamplight gleamed off the sheen of sweat at his temple as he smirked down at you. He saw how desperate you have become. All because of him. This pathetic pervert got you under him, willing to let him do anything. He had to savor this moment; there wasn’t anything he wanted to waste.
Gerard grabbed his member and dragged it agonizingly slow against the soaked fabric of your panties, the fabric hot and slick. The amused tilt of his head told you he was savoring every second of your desperation.
His tip nudged your clit through the thin material and lined it up with your hole, the fabric acting as a barrier. He began to thrust with quick, short pulses, just to watch you squirm.
“Fuck, Y/N” He moaned, “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me…”
You arched and whined, nails digging into his shoulders as if you could pull him inside you by force. He groaned at the sight of desperation in your eyes. You were practically trembling from the teasing. How would you be when he’s finally fucking you?
“P-please, please, Gerard,” your voice whined, cracking with need.
“Who’s the pathetic one now?” Gerard taunted, voice low and ragged as you whimpered and begged beneath him.
He continued to grind against your clothes core, slow and deliberate, until you were breathless and nearly crying from need. Your hips stuttered up, chasing more friction, but he pulled back and pinned your hips down firmly to keep control. He savored the way you writhed beneath him. Fuck, you were so needy.
Finally, he couldn’t hold himself back from you. With a frustrated growl, Gerard hooked his fingers under your panties and yanked them down, exposing your wet core. His breath hitched, wasting no time to grab his cock and start coating himself with your slick folds.
“Fuuuckk…” He moaned out, his head tipping back, “You’re this soaked for me… all from teasing?”
“God shut up,” you choked out. The teasing had caused you to become so sensitive; the skin-to-skin contact was overwhelming, “J-just fuck me,” you begged, “please.”
That was all he needed. With one deep, merciless thrust, Gerard sank into you. He stretched you out, making your back arch off the couch as a broken cry escaped your lips.
His hand shot over to the drawer beside the couch, fumbling until he pulled out his Polaroid. He didn’t pull out. He didn’t even slow down. Instead, he angled the camera down, making sure the frame caught exactly what he wanted: his cock buried deep inside you, your panties shoved aside, your body trembling beneath him. He snapped a photo before you could process it, and the soft whirr of the photo printing could be heard.
You realized in disbelief that the picture had frozen the moment: him buried inside you, your body arched and open beneath him.
You stared up at him breathlessly and let out a laugh of disbelief, “Adding that to your collection?”
He grinned and nodded, holding the photo up for just a second before tossing it aside to develop. “Damn right I am,” he rasped, his cock still pulsing deep inside you as his hips pressed against yours, “I had to capture how beautiful you look, full of me.”
Your cheeks burned, and you clenched from his words, making Gerard let out a guttural moan. He pulled out just to thrust back in harder, trying to press himself in even deeper.
“Fuck— you’re so— tight,” he gasped, his voice breaking as his pace turned more frantic. You let out a strangled cry as he sped up, your body rocking up and down below him. Shocks of pleasure coursed through you as he lost control, his hips slamming down into you.
“shit, Y/N—“ He groaned, his forehead pressing to yours, his eyes half-lidded as he held your gaze, “Y-you’re mine, okay? Not anyone else’s. Mine.”
You could only nod through your cries, nails digging into his back. He hissed at the sting but drove his hips in even harder, as though as punishing you for daring to belong to anyone else.
He slowed his thrusts down for you just long enough to catch your breath, “Say it,” he demanded, lowly.
The words spilled from your mouth before you could even think, breathless and wrecked, “I’m yours, Gerard. F-fuck, I’m yours.”
His smirk returned, and his pace snapped fast and brutal again, “Good girl,” he groaned, the praise breaking into a curse as your walls clenched around him again.
Gerard’s control snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight. His hips crashed into yours, over and over, the couch began to creak from the force. Every thrust was filled with passion, causing your moans to turn into choked sobs of pleasure.
His mouth found your neck, and he began to kiss. The rhythm was relentless as he didn’t let you catch another breath.
“You feel that?” he panted, his mouth hot against your ear as he bottomed out inside you, pressing himself as deep as possible, “Feel how I’m in you? Filling you up? You were fucking made for me. You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” His voice cracked into a moan, his whole body trembling with the overwhelming need to stay buried inside you, to make sure you never forgot who you belonged to.
Your whole body quivered beneath him as the pressure kept building. You felt yourself close to coming undone, and Gerard wanted so desperately to hear that. He shifted his body as he grasped your hips tightly, angling his thrusts until he hit the spot that made you see stars.
Your mouth opened, yet no words could come out besides struggling moans. Your orgasm coursed through you, your legs trembled, Gerard groaned into your ear, and it only drove you higher. Every shudder, every squeeze of your walls around him made him lose a little more control.
The sight of you coming undone beneath him sent Gerard over the edge. With dilated eyes, he tightened his grip around your waist as he began to thrust faster, using the friction of your orgasm to chase his own. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, a high-pitched whine coming out as his climax tore through him. His whole body shuddered against yours, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he spilled into you, completely lost in the heat of it.
For a moment, the room was filled with only the sound of your heavy breaths, tangled together. His forehead pressed to yours as he struggled to catch his breath. His glossy eyes scanned your face, softening as he realized just how wrecked you looked, and just how much he adored it.
He collapsed beside you, still buried inside, his chest heaving. For a long moment, neither of you could move, completely fucked and worn. Gerard shut his eyes as his mind raced; he was afraid that if he opened his eyes, you’d disappear. He kept his hand entwined with yours, squeezing lightly as reassurance.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured, shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh. He kissed your forehead, your nose, then hovered over your lips again, softer this time. “I lost control, didn’t I?” he admitted, a little sheepish but still smirking. “Couldn’t stop even if I wanted to…”
You chuckled weakly, tugging him closer. “I didn’t want you to stop.”
That made his breath hitch. He kissed you again, slow and lingering, his hands running down your sides. Still inside you, he gave the slightest, lazy thrusts, almost absentminded, like he couldn’t stand the thought of pulling away just yet.
Gerard leaned his head into your shoulder, muttering almost to himself, “Mine. You’re mine now.” His tone was quiet but possessive.
And as you curled your arms around him, your heavy breaths coming out as soft whimpers, you realized he wasn’t just saying it in the heat of the moment. He meant it.
But you didn’t mind.
There was only him, only you, and the quiet, intimate aftermath of everything he’d just lost control over.
Even in his pathetic, fumbling, utterly human way, Gerard was yours, and for the first time, he seemed to realize it completely, like the world could end and he’d be satisfied just lying here with you.
