Hi bb just wondering if we will get the deanxgeorge threesome? Love your story as always & sad it’s coming to an end
Hi love! I will get to it eventually... I have some of it already written, sitting in my drafts but I’m super busy with another fandom sideblog right now, so I’m not sure exactly when that’ll be. I want to focus on finishing Just Another Day at the Office at the moment on this blog, and maybe I’ll get to it along with the promised breesome afterward. and thank you so much for the love! who knows, I might write some drabbles for just another day, so it won’t ~technically~ be completely over. hope you’re safe and well!
Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?
a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!) IM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG I’m here to finish this shit once and for all... I know it’s been a while, but I hold this series so close to my heart and I still have the same love for it as I did when I wrote my last chapter (I know it’s only been a few months but STILL) if you’re reading this, I just want to thank you for sticking around, you’re the best <3
Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackay x reader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned. Also angst :/ srry this is kinda short
I was in the worst possible situation I could have ever imagined: I had to choose between my dream job and my dream man.
Bree arrived home about twenty minutes later by herself. My bedroom door creaked open, signaling her arrival. She frowned at my appearance, which seemed to be mascara smudged all over my eyes and cheeks and swollen, bloodshot eyes.
She sat down beside me, pulling me into her. “Y/n, I am so, so, sorry.”
I let out a croaked sigh, “I-it’s fine, he was going t-to find out eventually.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” she rubbed my back soothingly. “I think he’s in love with you.”
“It doesn't matter if he’s in love or not!” I exclaimed, pulling out of her embrace, my emotions arising again. “He’ll never forgive me for this.”
Hot tears began to stream down my face and I felt my bottom lip tremble. Bree took it as a cue to leave me be, so she quietly exited to her own bedroom.
What the fuck was I going to do?
This job was the job I’d been looking for my entire life; it was the job I’d dreamed about working at.
But, George...
George was everything. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that George would have ever fucked up the way I did. I wouldn’t ever have to question his loyalty, he’d proven to be trustworthy and honest. He treated me like a princess, a way I’d only ever been treated by my father. I wasn’t sure if I’d hurt more without him or without a job. He never failed to make me smile or laugh, and he’d ensure that I always felt safe. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fall in love again, until I met him.
I could get a job anywhere, but there was only one George MacKay.
I had to delete the article.
I headed to the kitchen and made myself two cups of coffee before cracking my knuckles and getting to work.
Dean,
This is an emergency. If you don’t reply now or tomorrow, I’m going to be in deep, deep shit.
I didn't have time to wait for his response; I got right to work.
What are people into nowadays, I thought to myself. Sex.
Ping. I clicked on my email.
Y/n,
What?
Well, anything’s better than the fucking Sexperiment article.
Dean,
I have to write a new article. George found out. BAD. Can’t release it, I have to fix this.
Also, would you say your penis size relates to your shoe size at all? It’s for the article.
Promise!
Well, I thought, here goes nothing. My fingers began typing immediately. The caffeine made my fingers shake slightly, but I was determined to write anything. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get George back, but I knew I had to. This was a start, at least.
Ping.
Y/n,
Knew that was going to happen. I’ll help you out, but you owe me. Can we do this tomorrow though? It’s Friday night. Uhhh and to ur other question: I don’t think so. Not going to elaborate more than that. Hope that’s good enough.
I rolled my eyes.
Dean,
Fine. I’ll send you my drafts and you better respond as soon as you can.
I prayed to every possible higher power that this would work. I began conducting research, reading articles and articles about the relationship between the size of a man’s penis and the size of a man’s feet. I wrote down statistics, quotes, and scientific evidence–making sure to exclude any personal experience. I spent hours explaining the theory and science behind it and citing every single quote.
I wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but I prayed that Connie wouldn’t be too pissed at me and George would hopefully see how genuinely sorry I was. I knew I’d fucked up, I got too caught up in trying to impress my boss that I practically sabotaged my own relationship in the process. I hadn’t received a single text message or call from him. I missed the way he smelt of sandalwood and vanilla, I missed entangling my fingers in his soft, sandy locks. I missed the way his skin felt against mine and his velvety voice when he called me “love”.
Tears ran down my cheeks once again as these memories lingered in my head. I stared at my computer screen, my eyelids drooping; I needed a break. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I decided that I was going to be entirely committed on staying up all night. Making a sandwich for myself, I sat and watched television for a moment, attempting to distract me from my obvious thoughts. And once I felt slightly more energized, I resumed reading articles, highlighting quotes, and writing. I continued this until Bree woke up, yawning as she swung her bedroom door open.
“Jesus, Y/n,” she observed, my figure at the kitchen table still hunched over, staring at my screen. “Were you up all night?”
“Yeah,” my voice was raspy from exhaustion. “There’s a pot of coffee waiting for you.”
She smiled softly, walking behind me and wrapping her arms around me. “All couples fight, you know.”
I sighed, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore; I need to get this article done.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re writing a new article?”
“Of course I am,” I defended, my eyes not leaving my screen.
She poured herself a cup of the hot liquid.
“You love him.”
My eyes began to water and I fought to blink it away.
“Damn right I do,” I muttered to myself, though I was sure she heard me.
After finishing the draft of the article, I sent it over to Dean. Bree suggested that we go see our friends to distract me, but I wanted to stay home. I needed to write the final draft, and see George...both as soon as possible. Bree stayed around to make sure I’d be okay, watching television with me until Dean responded back with the edits. Once he finally did, I was rewriting the article and using his edits to perfect it. Once I’d finally finished it for Monday, I shut my laptop, grabbed my keys, and began driving to his house.
After parking, I climbed up the stairs until I reached his apartment door. I knocked a few times, nerves churning inside my stomach as I pondered all of the possible reactions he’d have. My biggest fear was that he’d never want to see me again. The door opened, revealing himself in a t-shirt and pajama pants, eyes puffy and bloodshot; I was sure my eyes looked the same.
“I-” I began, letting out a sigh. “I rewrote the article.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“It’s still sex-themed, but it doesn’t have any connection or correlation to you,” I explained, my voice beginning to croak. “I can email it to you, if you’d like. You can read it, see if it’s okay first.”
He shook his head silently. It was apparent that he didn’t know what to say either.
“I know I fucked up,” my voice broke and my bottom lip trembled. “I shouldn’t have come up with an article like that, it was so fucking awful of me to embarrass you in front of your coworkers.”
Tears began to run down my face and I couldn't help but hiccup.
“P-please, George,” I whimpered.
His eyes began to well with tears of his own, and he pulled me into his arms.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you outside of the restaurant,” he whispered, hugging me close to him.
“Oh, George,” I sobbed. “That was nothing; all you’ve done is treat me like gold, and I nearly exposed our fucking sex life to the world.”
He pulled away, cupping both of my cheeks with his palms, his blue orbs staring into mine, his eyelashes thick from wet tears and the whites of his eyes red.
“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking, “don’t lie, nor do something behind my back ever again.”
I pressed my hands against the backs of his, still holding my face in his palms.
“Never again,” I confirmed, throwing my arms around him to feel the warm embrace I thought I’d never feel again. I could inhale his scent, hear his heartbeat through his chest, stare into his ocean blue orbs, and feel the soft sandy curls on his head.
He read the article, and though it made him slightly uncomfortable that I was writing about penises, he designed simple art that would make the article pop in the magazine. Then, we laid in his bed for hours, listening to each others heartbeats, listening to our breathing rhythms, staring into each others eyes as if we were silently communicating to one another.
We decided to take a shower together, stripping each other of our clothes slowly and meaningfully. Once the hot water was running down our bare skin, we washed each other; shampooing each others hair slowly and washing our bodies tenderly, leaving kisses on wet shoulders and necks. Once we got out and dried off, we got back into his bed and maintained a spooning position, his bare torso against my bare back, as we dozed off to the warm, comforting feeling of our bare skin touching.
Monday morning, I sat down at my desk and sent the new article to Connie, anxiety making me bite my nails as I waited for a response back.
Ping.
Oh, no, I thought to myself.
Y/n,
Meet me in the conference room with Dean.
Connie
I sighed, exchanging looks with Dean–whom was reading the email over my shoulder–before we made our way to the conference room. She stood, her arms crossed, as we entered the room. I gulped, heart racing and sweat starting to form at my palms. The two of us sat ourselves, waiting for her to begin.
She joined us in a chair across from us, her elbows resting against the table.
“Well?” she began, her voice questioning. “What happened to the article?”
Dean looked at me, waiting for me to speak for myself. I braced myself before talking.
“The Sexperiment article wasn’t working for me, Connie,” I explained nervously, “I wasn’t having much luck writing it, and I wasn’t confident that it’d reach the magazine’s standards.”
I had to lie; I couldn’t tell her that the article nearly jeopardized my relationship. Dean sat next to me, silent.
She sighed, “I hope this one will reach the ‘magazine’s standards’, then,” she mimicked, before standing up and flattening her skirt. “I’ll publish the article, but this is a warning: do not change your article without contacting me first.”
And with that, we were dismissed, panic still swimming in our stomachs. Well, I thought, I chose George over my job; what else was I expecting?
I’m doing it. I’m writing the rest of just another day at the office.
I’m gonna attempt to do it all this weekend.
I’m SO SORRY I left you guys with the biggest cliffhanger IM THE WORST
But, I promised I would finish the series and I never break my promises! This series has been one of the best things that’s happened to me and I’m so so grateful for all of your support. I hope I can write another series too and you’ll all be just as supportive. I’m sensing a Peter Parker fic....
this would mean a lot if you took the time to read, thank you.
hello everyone. before I start, Just Another Day at the Office IS STILL ON !! the last two parts are just taking a long time to write.
I’ve been struggling with work. my manager has been less than lenient and kind to me and I’ve been having trouble finding another job.
Would anyone be interested in commissions for imagines ??? it would literally mean the absolute world to me, and imagines would start at super low prices, probably single digits, maybe $5 at most. it would be through either cashapp, Venmo, or PayPal, I’m not exactly sure yet. please message me, send something in my inbox, or comment on this if you’d be interested. thank you so much❤️
Hi girl! Are we getting a new part soon? I’m so in love w the fic
yes !! I’ve been working at my job nearly every single day for the past few weeks, but I took a vacation so the new part will hopefully be out soon :) sorry for the wait!
after just another day at the office, I’m thinking about doing imagines or writing another fic 😳😳 (and yes the deanxgeorgexreader threesome imagine is almost done, it should be out soon) who else do y’all want me to write about ? let me know who u stan 😌
your george fic, wow oh wow it's so good. i read it the other night and haven't stop thinking about it since. it's been a while since i've loved a story as much as i love just another day at the office. i find myself missing george as how you'd portrayed him in your fic.
I don’t even know what to say, thank you so so much!!!! All I want is for people to feel connected to the story and I know we haven’t seen much of George lately, so hopefully this can act as a temporary replacement for our beloved George content (tho we’ve been getting some virtual interviews in which he’s incredibly sweet in :3) But I’m so glad you’re loving the fic!!! Sending love! xx
Just Another Day at the Office Series - The Sexperiment
George MacKay x Reader Series
Part Four: The Double Date
Masterlist
Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?
a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!) IM BACK BABBYYYYY thank y’all for being so patient with me, I truly needed a mental health break with everything happening, along with my finals going on. But I’m back now, so expect more coming!!! ;)
Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned. Also angst :/ srry this is kinda short
I began to awaken when I felt something against my heat. The sensation was too real to be a dream, and I felt myself gently awaken, my eyes opening to see my legs parted, George’s face in the middle of them. His eyes met mine, watching me whilst his tongue slowly lapped at my flesh. I sighed at the euphoric sight and feeling, my back already beginning to arch as my hips began to buck against his mouth. He held my hips down, making it easier for him to accomplish his goal.
My hands moved to his disheveled locks, raking through the curls as our eyes met once again, my nerves already unraveling, beginning to reach their peak. My legs flexed as his tongue moved faster, expertly drawing shapes on my flesh that made my breath hitch. Toes curling, I forced my eyes open to watch him, allowing my climax to take over me in spasm-like movements. He brought his face up to mine, allowing me to taste myself on his lips as we kissed.
I wished we could have stayed like that, warm, bare skin flush against each other whilst we slowly kissed. I was reminded that I had to go into work, but I was grateful for my makeshift alarm clock.
The windows casted the light of a newborn day, the sun still in hiding as the sky was painted in the dull colors of dawn. This meant that I had time to shower, that we had time to shower. His eyes still puffy with sleep, he parted his lips from mine, taking time to absorb my vulnerable groggy state before taking my hand and guiding me to his bathroom. Though being in the city, the world was quiet–quieter than usual, at least–at this time, and we didn't take it for granted. Our sex wasn’t exactly vocal, nor was it rough or fast. With the warm water running down our bodies, he’d picked me up and had my back against the cool tile wall, my legs wrapped around him.
His pace was slow, taking his time pumping in and out of me. The only sounds surrounding us were the water puttering against the tile and the shower curtain, and the shakiness of our breaths combined with the unholy noises of his length slowly burying in and out of my heat. My fingertips gripped his soaked, slicked back locks, trying to hold myself together as he only slightly quickened his pace. His parted lips rested against my shoulder, his own shaky breaths and curses warm against my wet water-droplet covered skin. My legs tightened around him as I reached my second climax of the morning, feeling him give a final thrust and still as my walls clenched around him.
After that, we spent time shampooing each other’s heads and washing one another’s body, littering wet skin with loving, tired kisses. After drying off and returning to the bedroom, I hide to fight the urge to crawl back into his bed and let my drowsiness take over. But, I forced myself to change into my work clothes I’d packed, letting him help me by clasping my bra and zipping the back of my pencil skirt, his hands cupping my ass for a moment before reminding himself of the time.
Our slow, loving morning routine made me wonder what our life would be like if we’d lived together, if we’d spend time loving on each other each and every morning.
I wondered.
Throughout the day, I received text messages from my blond roommate, asking if I’d wanted to go out for dinner and drinks with George to accompany her and Faith on their first date. After asking George on lunch and him kissing the back of my hand with a “doesn’t matter to me, angel”, I agreed to the double date and climbed into the passenger seat of his car as gracefully as I could, though my feet were tired from attending meetings throughout the day with Dean.
“You can get ready at your flat, then we can go back to mine and we can leave from there?” I suggested as he started the engine.
“Sounds good,” he confirmed, sending me a smile before turning his attention to the rear window, strategically pulling the car out of its spot and exiting the wide parking lot.
The radio was off, therefore the only noise that filled the atmosphere was the quiet road noise and the sounds of New York traffic that I often paid little to no attention to, as it was white noise to me at this point of my life. But I found myself eagerly wanting to make conversation, wanting to hear his velvety accent that I knew I could never grow tired of.
“This morning was nice,” I spoke up, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment as I began to overthink. “’Nice’ sounds too cutesy now that I say it out loud,” I rambled.
“Cutesy?” he asked, turning his face to me briefly with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of amusement.
I buried my face in the palms of my hands, my cheeks turning more and more crimson by the second.
“You know what I mean!” I exclaimed.
He turned his face to me again for a moment, smirk still lingering on his lips.
“Do I?”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in defeat.
He rested a hand on my thigh, giving it a pat and rubbing circles over my skirt.
“I’m just playing,” he reassured me, freeing one of my crossed arms and bringing the back of my hand up to his lips before returning it onto my lap. “This morning was incredible.” he agreed.
When we arrived at his flat, I gathered all of my belongings, preparing them to bring back to my apartment while he dressed himself in casual attire. Once I got my things packed–and fought the urge to bring him to his bed after seeing his loose waves now more tousled and his rolled up sleeves exposing the veins traveling up his arms–it wasn’t long before we headed out of his flat, on the way to my own.
We arrived fairly quickly, and he waited on the sofa whilst I freshened up and changed into a pair of jeans and a floral top. I slipped a pair of wedges on and tossed my hair around until I was completely satisfied with my appearance. I stepped out of my bedroom, finding Bree and George in the middle of a conversation as she fixed a pair of earrings onto her earlobes in the closest mirror.
“I’m just really fucking nervous, I haven’t been on a date in– Jesus, Y/n, took you long enough!” her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed.
My eyebrows raised in confusion at her physical state. She’d looked flustered, which was something Bree hadn’t been since college; she was always the go-with-the-flow type no matter what, which I think was one of the reasons why she wasn’t too keen on relationships.
“Bree, are you...flustered?” I examined teasingly.
“Fucking hell,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Our Uber’s here, let’s go,” she announced, nearly bolting out of the door, already sitting in one of the seats when we opened the door to the Subaru by the curb.
The ride was brief and awkwardly quiet. I could feel Bree’s leg bouncing up and down and her eyes jump to the digital time clock on the radio of the car every few seconds. When we arrived at the restaurant, we were seated and ordered a few drinks whilst we waited for Faith’s arrival.
“Just be yourself,” I reminded her, watching as she nervously chewed on her plastic straw, her drink having been finished already within the first five minutes she’d received it.
“I haven’t had to be myself for anyone else in a while,” she admitted, dropping the chewed plastic straw into the tiny glass. “When you’re just fucking someone, you get to skip all of the personal shit.”
I rolled my eyes at her raunchy language, my eyes growing wide as I peered over the booth and spotted the small ginger-haired girl walking in.
“She's here,” I whisper-yelled.
Whipping her blond hair, she checked if my observations were correct; confirming, she faced back toward us and shrunk in the booth, her hazel eyes anxiously wide.
“Hi!”
We all looked to see her in a skirt and top, gripping her purse that was slouched over her arm. Her blue-green eyes matched the vibrance of her hair, and her button nose and high cheekbones were sprinkled in adorable freckles. Faith was immensely attractive, and I found myself slightly jealous, due to the fact that she’d dated George.
Bree sat up instantly, moving over to give the girl enough room to sit next to her.
“It’s,” she cleared her throat, “nice to meet you!”
I chewed on my lip, watching Bree nervously attempt to pull herself together. George and Faith exchanged friendly smiles before the waitress saved us all from further awkward exchanges, asking for our orders. Along with our food, Bree ordered another drink, making George and I cringe.
“So,” I began, as the waitress left. “How long have you been in New York, Faith?”
George brought a hand over my lap comfortingly, making me relax as I watched Bree intently.
“I’ve been here for about five years,” she answered. “I’ve wanted to move here for a long time, though; I wanted to go to NYU, but I couldn’t afford it.”
My eyes lit up.
“Bree and I went to NYU!” I exclaimed, nodding my head toward my roommate. “That’s how the two of us met.”
Faith looked at the blond next to her, as if waiting for her to confirm this.
“It’s true, we had a literature class together,” Bree confirmed, her voice small.
I didn’t have to look under the table to tell that she was rubbing her sweaty palms onto her jeans over and over again; this was one of her signature nervous habits.
“Sheesh, you guys must be swimming in debt,” she speculated, her thin, auburn eyebrows raising.
“Tell me about it,” Bree groaned.
It was true. Going to school out of state, not to mention NYU, came at a cost. And coming from a small town, I had to work full time as soon as I’d graduated. I predicted I’d be paying off my debt for another ten to twenty years, give or take. And, quite frankly, I wasn’t sure if it really was worth it. But, NYU gave me my friend for life, so I couldn’t complain.
The waitress came back with our food, and Bree’s drink. As we began eating, Bree and Faith began to converse quietly amongst themselves, leaving George and I to do the same.
“You think it’s going well?” I whispered, as I shoveled food into my mouth.
George shrugged, glancing across at them.
“Looks like it’s going alright.”
We began talking quietly about things that’d happened at work, before the girls included us in conversation again.
“Actually, Y/n is writing an incredible article right now,” Faith spoke up, gesturing to me with admiration.
My eyes went wide and my body froze.
No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
Bree’s eyebrows furrowed, as well as George’s.
“You haven’t told me about it, Y/n, what are you writing?” she asked, her words slightly muffled from the pasta in her mouth.
My cheeks began to flush and I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as panic settled in.
“It’s an experiment, I’m sure George knows all about it,” Faith smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.
I wasn’t sure what to do nor what to say.
George shifted next to me, concern taking over his facial features.
“No, I actually have no idea what it is,” he admitted, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
I gulped, looking at Faith with wide eyes as she began to realize what she’d just done.
“Oh, um–” she stuttered, looking at me apologetically as her cheeks began to flush in embarrassment.
“Why don’t we handle the bill?” Bree interrupted, clearing her throat. “You two should probably head home, anyway, and I could use another drink.”
Giving Bree a look of gratitude, George and I exchanged quiet goodbyes before exiting the restaurant.
My mind began to run through multiple arguments I could make, but nothing was right; I knew I was in the wrong this time, and I wasn’t sure what I could do to make up for it. We stood in silence, walking along the sidewalk in search for a cab.
“So, are you going to tell me what she was talking about, or am I just going to have to wait ‘till the magazine’s out to read about it?” he snapped, crossing his arms.
I gulped, pausing in my steps on the sidewalk.
“I–” I stuttered, pausing as I searched for the right words. “The, uhm, the lingerie,” I began with a defeated, guilty sigh. “I wore it to see if wearing lingerie could improve your sex life; it’s for an article, the experiment she was talking about.”
His eyes widened and his brows furrowed, displaying frustration and confusion.
“Was that– Are you implying that our sex life needed to be improved?” he interrogated.
I chewed my lip nervously, nodding to answer his question.
He scoffed. “And you told all of the journalists and editors this?”
I wasn't sure what to say.
“I–”
“Do you know how embarrassing that is, Y/n?” he threw his hands up. “That’s our workplace! Telling our coworkers, my coworkers, about our sex life?!”
“That’s not what I meant–”
“And not even asking if I was okay with it first? Or communicating with me how you felt?”
I wasn't sure what to say or what to do, because nothing I could say or do could fix the situation. I’d fucked up completely.
As a cab pulled up beside us, I hung my head.
“You can get in that one, I’ll just wait for the next one,” I offered quietly.
He shook his head.
“We’re taking it together, so I can make sure you get home safely,” he stated.
Stunned, I nodded and got into the small cab, telling the man my address as George piled in next to me, his gaze to the window with his arms crossed.
The ride was uncomfortably silent as I awkwardly responded to the driver’s small talk. Once he arrived at my building, I took one final look at George’s appearance, still turned away from me, before thanking the driver and walking inside, trudging up the stairs.
I wasn't sure how I could fix this or if George would ever forgive me, and I felt guilty about even continuing to write the article. But I had nothing else to write, and the article was due soon.
I’d reached my biggest fear, the fear I’d gained the moment I laid my eyes on his bright, kind smile and his perfect sandy locks.
thank you so much! I’ve been taking a mental health break whilst I try to gather as much inspiration for the fic as I can.
I can promise that there will be more parts coming! I’m just not sure when :/ I just don’t want to post parts that I didn’t put effort into; I always want you guys to have my best work to read!
but I thank you all for being patient with me during this time! I appreciate it more than you know <3
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