#custom notepad printing

[fuzzyruinsface]

Premium Notepad Printing Services in Dubai

Order fancy, custom A4 & A5 notepads in Dubai & Abu Dhabi. Explore corporate gift notepads, discount deals, & professional notepad printing services.

Elevate Your Brand with Custom Notepad Printing in Dubai

Are you looking to improve your day-to-day stationery or unique corporate gifting, or are you simply looking for notepads in Dubai? Exprintmart provides high-quality notepad printing in Dubai to fulfill the needs of businesses, events, and gifts. Whether you need letter notepads, personalized designed notepads, or branded notepads, we can get it done. We uphold high standards for notepad branding here at Exprintmart.

The Importance of Notepads in a Digital World

Notepads in Dubai or worldwide are still a valuable entity in a professional workplace despite the advancement to a digital world. It's important to note that notepads are not just note providers; they are mobile billboards that will take your company brand with them. A gorgeous, well-designed notepad, on an office desk, in or meeting with a client, or on the bus, can constantly promote your business daily. 

Choose A4 and A5 Notepad Sizes

Exprintmart provides both A4 notepad printing to A5 notepad printing. Whether you need to bulk order conference {event} notepads or give-branded notepad desk pads to executives, we provide proper sizes, paper quality, and binding options. 

We provide premium fancy notepad options for branding or addressing events that combine original visual design appeal and intended use.

Corporate Gifts and Customization at Every Occasion

Corporate gifting just became easier. We have corporate gifts, notepads Dubai packs for all types of promotional events, business launches, or employee onboarding kits. Our gifts come fully customizable, in any color, logo, tagline, QR code, etc. Your corporate gifts, notepads Dubai kit will represent your brand and stay top of mind. 

Interested in discounts? View our personalized notepads Abu Dhabi promotions. This is great for bulk corporate orders and seasonal campaigns.

Try Before You Print - Get a Notepad Sample!

Having a hard time deciding what design best represents your brand? We can send a sample notepad to approve before we proceed with bulk production so that you can check the quality, layout, and finish. Either our notepad printing is customized from scratch, or you can use our pre-designed layouts. Your satisfaction is our number one priority. 

One-Stop Shop for Notepad Printing in UAE

Exprintmart is known for its quality and consistency, and our notepad printing in Dubai, UAE, has earned an excellent reputation. Exprintmart is your trusted brand for corporate printing. Offering services to both Dubai and Abu Dhabi, we provide:

✅Quick turnaround service 

✅Bulk order discounts 

✅Recycled and eco-friendly paper options 

✅Doorstep delivery service throughout the UAE 

Get Started Today with Exprintmart

Whether you’re designing a letter notepad for your team or need fancy notepads as event giveaways, we’ll deliver excellence—every time.

📍 Visit us: www.exprintmart.com 📞Call: +971 56 931 7076 📧 Email: info@exprintmart.com

[americanprinting]

Custom Notepads Printing in CA

Get quality and fast custom notepads printing services in CA. Get reliable & affordable same-day sticky notes and notepad printing services in CA.

[brandedpads]

Printed Desk Pads: Where Style Meets Practicality

Upgrade your workspace with printed desk pads designed for style and functionality. Perfect for offices, promotions, or personal use, these desk pads can be customized with logos, artwork, or calendars. Enhance productivity while showcasing your brand with premium printed desk pads!

[tnestationery7]

Custom Logo Printed Business Stationery Notepad

[justprintoholics]

Notepad Printing | Just Printoholics

In the fast-paced world of business and personal organization, the humble notepad plays a crucial role in keeping our thoughts, ideas, and tasks neatly compiled. Just Printoholics, a prominent printing company in Naraina, Delhi, has mastered the art of notepad printing, offering unparalleled quality and customization options. In this blog, we will delve into the intricacies of notepad printing, explore why Just Printoholics is the best printing company in Delhi, and understand the broader spectrum of printing and publishing.

Notepad Printing: A Creative Canvas

Notepads are not just stationery; they are a canvas for creativity and practicality. Just Printoholics recognizes the significance of notepads in personal and professional spheres and provides an extensive range of customization options. From choosing the paper quality to selecting the design elements, customers have the freedom to create notepads that reflect their unique style and purpose.

Why Choose Just Printoholics?

Printing Company in Naraina: Just Printoholics is strategically located in Naraina, a bustling hub in Delhi. This central location allows for efficient service delivery to businesses and individuals in the vicinity. Being a local printing company in Naraina, Just Printoholics understands the unique needs of the community and provides personalized solutions.

Best Printing Company in Delhi: With a commitment to excellence and a focus on customer satisfaction, Just Printoholics has earned the title of the best printing company in Delhi. The combination of cutting-edge printing technology and a team of skilled professionals ensures that every print job, including notepad printing, meets the highest standards.

Understanding Printing and Publishing:

Printing and publishing encompass a wide range of services beyond notepad printing. Just Printoholics is not just a printer; it is a partner in bringing ideas to life on paper. Whether it's business cards, brochures, banners, or custom notepads, the company's expertise extends to various printing and publishing needs.

Customization Options at Just Printoholics:

Paper Quality: Just Printoholics offers a selection of high-quality papers for notepad printing. Customers can choose from options such as recycled paper for an eco-friendly touch, premium glossy paper for a professional look, or textured paper for a unique feel.

Design Elements: The design possibilities are endless at Just Printoholics. From incorporating company logos and brand colors to choosing font styles and layouts, customers have complete control over the visual aspects of their notepads.

Sizes and Formats: Notepads come in various sizes and formats, and Just Printoholics ensures that customers find the perfect fit for their needs. Whether it's a pocket-sized notepad for on-the-go notes or a larger format for detailed sketches, the printing company accommodates diverse preferences.

Bulk Ordering: Businesses often require notepads in bulk for promotional purposes or internal use. Just Printoholics facilitates bulk ordering, ensuring that businesses can maintain a consistent and professional brand image across all notepads.

Conclusion:

Just Printoholics emerges as the go-to printing company in Naraina, Delhi, offering exceptional notepad printing services and beyond. The ability to balance customization with professionalism sets Just Printoholics apart, making it the best printing company in Delhi. As we navigate the realms of printing and publishing, it becomes evident that Just Printoholics is not just a service provider; it is a partner in transforming ideas into tangible, beautifully printed creations.

In a world where digital communication dominates, the tangible presence of a well-designed notepad can leave a lasting impression. Just Printoholics understands the power of print and stands ready to bring your ideas to life on paper. Experience the art of notepad printing with Just Printoholics – where creativity meets precision.

[digitprintplus]

Efficient Mailing Processing Services for Your Business Needs

At Digiprint Plus, we take the hassle out of your mailing campaigns with our top-notch Mailing Processing Service. From data management and list preparation to printing, addressing, and post office delivery, we handle every aspect of your mailing needs. Our streamlined approach ensures accuracy, cost-efficiency, and on-time delivery for your marketing materials or business communications.

[munsonmuses]

Sugar Crash

Pairing: Erik Campbell x GN! Reader

Synopsis: I don't actually know! I felt motivated, and I cranked out something I genuinely like! And if you like it? Let me know!

Themes: bakeries, fluff, tipsy Erik, Erik has a Jacob's ladder, smut that's oddly domestic, mild sadism, an establishing friendship, no gender specific descriptions, awkwardness, summer parties, CANON DIVERGENCE

Word Count: 7.7k

Your eyes carefully scanned over the magazine in front of you, snapping your gum as quietly as one could do so, eyes trailing over models far too airbrushed and far too cinched, damn you photoshop. Sighing out your nose as you flicked the magazine shut at the sound of the bell above the door jingle. Pulling your lips into an impossibly tight customer service smile that didn't quite reach your eyes and looking up.

"Welcome to The Sugar Shack, your sweet tooth is our specialty…" it came out more monotonous than intended, looking over the very sweet girl you recognized as Julia, who your vaguely recognized from high school, and who'd usually come in with her mother, and two men trailing beside her as you hummed lightly.

"Hiiii," Julia started as she carefully moved her sunglasses into a makeshift headband, carefully looking over the menu and straight past you as you turned your attention to her company, smiling lightly at the sweeter looking of the two as he waved nervously.

"If you have any allergies or dietary concerns, let me know. We do peanut, dairy and gluten free. We don't do flour free or sugar free, or else we'd just be The Shack and that makes us sound like a whole different establishment~" it left in a mildly singsong manner as her other companion grinned lightly.

"The Shack is somewhere I feel I'd spend most of my Saturday nights," he snorted as your grin tightened, it didn't feel as funny coming from him. He just had a look about him, though you were working on your assumptive tendencies, not fair to judge. Though your inner scolding was thrown off by Julia smacking him lightly on the chest.

"Erik, behave yourself," she chastised as he winced lightly. "Sorry about him, he thinks he's funny. Do you guys do large orders? Say like…twenty four cupcakes and a sheet cake for like…twenty people?" She asked, talking with her hands as her wristlet jingled and you nodded.

You put your finger up in a 'wait a minute' manner before going under the counter to grab the binder full of sizes, designs, and price estimates. Setting it down carefully as you flipped through it quietly to larger sheet cakes.

"We can do custom designs, and we can do pictures too. Cake printing, it's the future," it sounded apathetic, and you could tell they noticed. That was terrible customer service. "Sorry it's, just a real tough day…" you explained yourself as Julia waved it off. "We all have tough days, clearly it isn't personal," she insisted softly as you exhaled through your nose, relaxing the tension in your shoulders as you nodded.

"Weeee, need something for a birthday party? This one's birthday party~" she poked Erik repeatedly on the shoulder as he batted her hand away. "Mostly just family, a couple friends of ours too…so I feel like…a full sheet would be great?" Julia insisted as you nodded to yourself.

"Okay perfect…anything I should avoid for starters?" You flipped open your desktop notepad as the blonde raised his hand. "Hi, im Bobby! Well, im Robert but everybody calls me Bobby. Uhhh, peanuts will, kill meeee, so just, make sure the cake isn't, contaminated." he insisted as you wrote 'NO PEANUT! WILL DIE!' in bold letters, underlining it three times as he snorted lightly.

Your attention turned to the soon-to-be birthday boy, who you'd learned was named Erik earlier. His eyes widening a bit as you pointed a pen at him and grinned lightly. "Tell me, the vibe you're going for, or the image you want. I will make, literally anything…as long as it's not completely not safe for work…" you laid out the guidelines as he leaned forward, matching your energy.

"I am, so glad to hear you can make my dreams come true~ I'm the happiest boy in the whole wide world~" he batted his lashes, resting his chin on his fists as you snorted lightly. "I'm a tattoo artist, and a piercer…and I want a pinup cake. She doesn't need to be, nude or nothin', but I know what I want. She's gotta be cool, she can't be cutesy or dainty…have a take no shit look to'er." He insisted as you wrote down whatever words tumbled out of his mouth. "Okay so, what colors are we wanting?" You probed as he chewed on his lower lip. "Black, red…silver…" he listed the last one as more of a question, running it by you as you nodded. "I can most definitely- DON'T!-"

You reacted quickly to the movement in your peripherals, catching Bobby reaching for the free samples as his hand shot back to his side. "Shit! I'm sorry! Is, are those display cookies? Or- it says free, take one. Am I not supposed too? I'm sorry-" he assured as you shook your head and Erik pulled him back.

"Didn't even check for peanuts, numbnuts! Would've died in this pastel hellhole-" Erik scolded as the realization dawned on Bobby. Looking at his feet sheepishly as your hand pushed through your hair anxiously.

"You're fine, hun…just don't wanna kill you, can you imagine the paperwork?" You joked lightly as you moved away from the counter and carefully approached the pastry case, finding a fresh iced lemon cookie and putting it into a napkin before bringing it to Bobby. "You can't have one of those, but you can have one of these…" you assured as he took it with a quiet 'thank you'.

"So…sorry um, do you know what you, want…on your cupcakes? I could print the same design just smaller for them." You offered as Erik kept glancing at his brother but nodded. "Yeah that's…that'll be good, I did, draw up the design I want so, is there a way I can send that to you?" He questioned as you nodded lightly.

"Yeah, here's my number, text it to me with any modifications you want…" you wrote it down before sighing in mild agitation, nothing to do with them at all, just, hating being where you were. You loved your job, you hated the surroundings. Erik wasn't wrong, to call it a pastel hellhole. It was a stark mint color, sprinkles painted everywhere a person could reach, horrendous peppermint decals everywhere, and the colorful, yet devoid of personality little busts of dogs and other animals you could find at a generic home goods store littered across the shelves, the cherry on top being the LED neon signs with generic sayings like 'a little sweet treat' and 'you're so bad!'.

"This is so fucking good…can I buy another one? Please? Or like…like twelve?" Bobby spoke through a mouthful of cookie as you laughed lightly, brows furrowed, but gladly obliged as you packaged twelve cookies to go in the painfully nauseating pistachio green to go box. You didn't hate pastels, you didn't hate sweets, you just hated how it was so in your face in every direction here.

"Who made these?" Bobby asked as you laughed. "I do. I'm the baker, and the cashier, and the delivery driver, and the janitorial staff." You explained as he smiled bigger. "Wow, so you like, own this place?"

The laugh that left you wasn't voluntary, snorting harshly and shaking your head. "Harper Shetland owns the place, she comes in an hour a day, bitches about how hard her job is, then leaves. I'm here open to close, six days a week~" you punctuated the sentence with an eye roll. Julia snapping her fingers while pointing at you as she laughed.

"AP Lit! You were in my AP Lit class! Harper was in that too, what a jerk." She recollected as you nodded. "Try being employed by her…" you murmured as Julia shook her head. "You're too nice, I would've quit forever ago."

You nodded at her statement, you should have! But you were passionate about baking. You were passionate about being a small business staple in your community.

"Isn't she that girl who comes in to get those teeny little tattoos that say shit like 'power' and lineart of like a sunflower? Has the weirdly cryptic instagram?" Erik butted in as you nodded. "She, I'm not gonna degrade her tattoo choices. It's her body. The only reason it's an issue is that she gets them because her sister has them and they're constantly competing." You confessed, as if it were some dirty, well kept secret, rather than small town gossip.

Erik laughed softly as he carefully looked you over and hummed to himself. "You are, real apathetic for someone wearing lavender…" he commented as you rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah…real funny," though your smile showed it did amuse you. "Anyways, when do you need this cake by? And the cupcakes?" You asked as Julia carefully bit her lip. "Saturday? Like…four days from now? I'm willing to pay extra! And we need it delivered?" She insisted as you nodded softly.

"I can do it but there's a rush fee…that I'm willing to waive," you started, trying to keep their attention. "In exchange for you guys watching the door so I can run to the bathroom and eat my lunch," you insisted as Julia nodded carefully. "Yeah! Yeah we can do that! Do we need to sell anything?" She insisted as you shook your head. "Just watch the door and tell them I'll be right with them." You insisted as you ran off, leaving the siblings together

"They're really nice," Bobby insisted as he worked on polishing off a third cookie, carefully wiping the icing off his face with the back of his wrist as Julia nodded. "So nice, I think they were on student council in high school, wicked smart, also in the like, culinary class? I liked them then, like them now." She insisted, glancing at Erik who was just staring at the spot where you had previously stood.

"Hellooooo, earth to KiKi. C'mon…you okay?" She insisted as he nodded lightly. "Yeah! Yeah I'm…I'm good just, thinking," he insisted, but he didn't know how to vocalize what was going on in his brain. He'd come across you a few times on tinder, seen you at HighDive, which was a local bar, and now here. It was a small town, yeah, but it was like you perpetually caught his attention. He wasn't sure how to deal with that, he hadn't dated seriously in a while, and hookups had lost their thrill, and you just constantly seemed to be around.

He wasn't sure when you came back, trapped in his own thought about you before being jostled by Bobby, his eyes focusing on the huge peanut butter fudge brownie you held out in front of him. "Earth to emooo…you in there?" You probed as he snorted but took the brownie, he didn't even remember ordering a brownie. Turning to look at Julia who was housing a strawberry cheesecake cookie. "Sorry uh, yes I'm here…not emo either but uhh, how much do we,"

"They're free, they said they liked us enough for free shit," Julia insisted as she tapped her phone on the card reader for the cake and cupcakes, waving bye as she led the pack out of there, Erik glancing back at you as you called out you'd see them Saturday with desserts as promised. Watching them go before prepping for closing, four days till Saturday.

-

It was a Tuesday night, and you as usual, had no real plans, scrolling mindlessly on your phone before getting a text from Cooper, a longtime friend, and a really bad influence.

'Heyyyyy :)'

'Yeah?'

'You busy? Like genuinely busy?'

'No, what's up?'

'Can you come with me somewhere? I have a piercing appointment at Stick It Out, need moral support.'

'Yeah, okay sure'

You carefully got yourself off the couch, pulling on a generic zip up and some dolphin shorts, shucking off your house slippers for some actual outdoor shoes and texting Cooper that you'd meet him at the piercing shop. Making sure you'd grabbed your phone, keys and wallet before fully heading out.

It was a crisp October day, and the shop downtown wasn't more than a fifteen minute walk, so you'd opted for that rather than taking your car and fighting for parking…even though it was 8pm on a Tuesday and nobody went out, you just liked walking!

You stared up at the large sign for Stick It Out, the neons flickering and the glass a bit foggy from the warm sun casting against the glass cooled by the air conditioning. Carefully stepping inside as the bell above the door jingled, frowning at how dark it was inside. Was it because of an acquired ambiance, or was it to hide the shoddy work done, but either way it was a little unsettling.

"Are you stalking me? Or something?" It came from behind you, startling you enough to yelp as you whipped around to face whoever it was, Eric carefully looking you over as you shook your head. "Good lord no, my buddy just, has an appointment, and im meeting him here for moral…support." You elaborated as Eric puttered his lips, rolling his eyes a bit harsher than anticipated. "His names, uh, Cooper…" you murmured as Erik nodded softly.

"Yeah, he's uh, a regular flake. This is his last appointment, and if he's not here on time, blacklist." He accentuated his statement by swiping his pen across the legal pad in front of him. Stark black lines as you snorted lightly, carefully watching him before taking a seat on the cracked pleather couch.

"If he's not here on time, what're you gonna do?" You questioned as Erik carefully wiped down the glass countertops of the piercing case and glancing up at you as he hummed to himself. "If he doesn't come in, then i get to close up shop and head on home." He insisted as you carefully looked over the set on the walls, vintage flash, American traditional, foam heads with piercings and drawn on tattoos and faces.

"What if um…you had a walk in?" You questioned as he quirked a brow, looking you over before rounding the counter. Lightly grabbing your face as he sighed lightly to himself. "We could do a septum, you've got the anatomy…" he felt the middle of your nose before humming. "Or studs right here," he tapped the sides of your nose as he laughed. "Stick your tongue out…" he insisted as you furrowed your brows, slowly sticking your tongue out.

He gripped your tongue carefully, gloved index finger running over the underside before shaking his head. "Nope, not gonna work out…" he insisted calmly. "And I don't think your first piercing should be anything surface…or your chest, or anything lower." He advised gently. "Professionals opinion."

You carefully grabbed his wrist, his eyes coming back to your face as his cheeks flushed pink. "Shit sorry, uhhh…" he let go of your tongue as you rolled it over the roof of your mouth and pursed your lips, your throat felt tight. "If you want anything, and he doesn't show up, I can most definitely squeeze you in." He assured. "A squeeze for a squeeze."

Your ears felt hot. "Excuse me?"

"My cake? You're squeezing us in to have it by Saturday…don't tell me you've already forgotten." He whined as you laughed lightly.

"It just, your words sounded suggestive, i was just startled. Thought you were flirting with me, and i feel like flirting with clients must be against the rules?"

"Not if they're cute clients."

"You think I'm cute?"

For the first time since you'd met him, it seemed like you'd thrown him off.

"No, yes? It's…okay, you're pretty, yes. But I'm, it's just a general statement." He insisted as you laughed lightly to yourself. "You think you're charming-"

"I know I'm charming."

"Mhm, I'm sure you think you know a lot,"

"Mhm, yeah, uhhhh, where's your lil friend?" He was changing the subject, clearly thrown off as he slowly licked his lower lip in mild agitation.

"Should beeee…not tonight," you frowned as you checked your phone and sighed in frustration to yourself. "Says something came up, boyfriend needs him…"

"I think he's just a pussy." Erik insisted as you scoffed, defensive about your friend and his troubles. "He's always flaking, the latest appointment in the day, and he never shows." Erik explained as you sighed in frustration, you could sympathize as someone who provided a service. "Think about it, someone keeps ordering forty cupcakes, they keep ordering, you prep and get ready and they never pick it up. You've already turned away other orders and everything, and then you're out of luck on everything. Ingredients, time, packaging." He tried to relate as you nodded, drumming your fingers on your knees lightly.

"Sooo…does that mean you can like…pierce my face?" You questioned as Erik groaned loudly, hands on his head as he spun on his heel to look at you. "Sure, if it means I didn't waste all my time on prep? Yeah…" he insisted, clearly still irritated by the fact he was led in another circle by Cooper.

"Alright, fill these out…and i will get your jewelry prepped." He insisted calmly as he slid the clipboard over and carefully tossed you a pen.

"If you're not up for it, you don't have to pierce me." You assured as you filled out all of the required information and Erik shook his head, carefully glancing back at you. "It's not your fault, I'm just an asshole," he assured as he grinned, tongue poking between his teeth as he carefully turned back to wiping the chair.

"Then, yeah I do want you to pierce my septum." You insisted as Eric grinned to himself carefully, delicately thrumming his fingers over the back of the chair and glanced back at you. "Okay then, take a seat…" he insisted softly as you nodded, walking over eagerly and taking a seat in the raised chair, the pleather sticking to the undersides of your legs and your forearms, the scent of iodine and a scented candle somewhere caused you to wince a bit.

"Okay…gonna be a slight pressure~" he got the pliers aligned in your nose as you winced at the clamping, his eyes flicking from the tip of your nose to your eyes as he tutted lightly. "C'mon you got it…deep breath, there you go…it's gonna feel like a pinch okay? You've got it."

"Okay…" you insisted, now your assuredness was dwindling as you felt the cold and sharp tip of the needle push, gritting your teeth lightly and feeling your leg raise as you whimpered. "Fuck fuck fuck-" your eyes watered a bit, though it wasn't full crying. "Shhhh, almost done…you got it, sweets," he was gentle as he spoke, threading the jewelry through and twisting the ball end onto it. Gently using a q-tip to dab away the blood.

"There you go…real cute." He pat your thigh, moving beside you as he held a mirror up, grinning over your shoulder and watching as you looked yourself over. "Looks good, glad to take your virginity~" he teased as you playfully smacked his shoulder. "You are so gross!" You laughed as you moved to stand, Erik striding over to the register as you followed quietly.

"That, is gonna run youuu…nothing. Since you're being such a good sport about my birthday," he insisted as you rolled your eyes, shoving a twenty into the tip jar. "I'll see you Saturday, Erik."

"Likewise…"

-

Saturday felt like it had practically skipped every other day in the week, you'd worked so hard on perfecting the damn cupcakes that you fell behind on actual work, not that anyone would actually notice. Nobody ever came in, and you felt like you were throwing away more and more each day.

You carefully double checked the address before rolling up the driveway, sandwiched between cars much more expensive than your little sedan and made sure to balance the baked goods as best as you could. Slamming the door shut with your foot and heading into the backyard, since a sign let you know the party was going on back there.

Everyone looked, so textbook. Like the mannequins of a family in an Old Navy, but significantly less unsettling, and Erik stood out with an adorably silver party hat and littered in black amongst a sea of J.Crew and Kohls catalogue clothing.

"There you are! Shit, did i give you the wrong time?" Julia ran over to you, your body turning to protect the cake and cupcakes. "No no, i was just running late…still had to close at the bakery and I'm so sorry," you insisted as she waved it off. "You're totally fine…you busy?" She prompted as you shook your head. "Cool, then you're staying." She insisted, and you tried to come to with an excuse, really. But her family was already coming over, welcoming you with open arms. It would be unsettling if it wasn't how everyone acted in this idiotically kind town.

You were sat by the fire pit, watching as Charlie and Stefani worked on s'mores, arguing over the logistics of the perfect marshmallow burnt-ness. Your smile felt impossibly natural, and it only brightened as a very tipsy, but not quite drunk Erik made his way over to you. Charlie and Stefani taking it as their cue to leave as you frowned lightly, watching them wish their goodbyes as they left with Marty. Turning your attention back to Erik as you sighed softly to yourself.

"Heyyyy~ how's that septum holding up?" He prompted as he dropped onto the chair next to you, offering you a beer which you took without complaint. "It's really good, more compliments than i expected to get." You confessed as his hand clapped your shoulder, shaking you lightly as he nodded his head. "You look real cute, but not totally hardcore you know?" He insisted as you quirked an eyebrow up at him. "And what would make me hardcore, Erik?" You questioned softly as you leaned forward. His eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips as you sighed lightly.

"Couple of tattoos maybe…" he insisted. "But you gotta let me do em…I don't trust anyone else not to fuck you up,"

"Fuck me up?"

"Yeah…fuck you up, you're uh…you're the perfect canvas, and you're sweet, pretty…someone could mess it up. Make it hurt when it doesn't have too, i can make it as gentle or as rough as you need…" he was definitely using more liquid courage than he knew what to do with. It was clearly a deliberate euphemism now.

You swallowed the swig of beer that was warming in your mouth as you slowly looked Erik over. "Listen, I'm tipsy yeah, but i know what I'm saying. I told Jules to ask you to stay, I gave you a free piercing because i thought you were cute, I thought about coming into the bakery like six times over the past four days but kept backing out. I am…crazy about you, I cannot get you out of my fucking head, and I'm not saying you gotta say anything i just…i needed to tell you before i drove myself insane, okay? I just…it's okay, if you're not ready but I'd be stupider than I already am not to say anything…you have my number." He whispered, the crackling of the fire the perfect backdrop to his soft whispers as you frowned deeply to yourself.

You carefully pushed your hair back, you needed time to think, and you knew that. This was, strong, but honest, transparent, truthful. He was interested more than you knew, and you wouldn't deny you felt the same damn things.

You turned your head, noticing his family had all entirely retired inside. Carefully looking back over at Erik before leaning in a little bit. Testing the waters as he moved forwards to meet you halfway. Your breath fanning over one another's lips, your eyes flicking frantically from his and back down as you shuddered lightly. Your noses bumping lightly before you cried out in mild pain, your septum snagging his as you recoiled.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, sweets."

"No no it's…I should go, it's late."

"Sweets, I'm- fuck I'm so sorry."

"It's, Erik really I should, go…" you turned on your heel, heading out of the back gate as you heard Erik following, hopping into your car and wincing as you struggled to get the engine to turn over. Looking up at Erik in the glow of your headlights as the engine sputtered to life. Reversing out of the driveway, and possibly from one of the best things that could've happened to you.

-

Days turned into weeks, and you thought about texting Erik. Hovering over that little blue arrow and swiping out of your messages. Becoming friends with Julia, who encouraged you to try, reach out to Erik. Weeks became months, you quit the stupid Sugar Shack and opened up your own little place on seventh street, with a business loan. You couldn't quit thinking about Erik, baking cookies the size of softballs and struggling to swallow the fact that you ran. You always ran. You were so good at running. You shot down a guy before you even got to chance what could've been.

"Stace, I'm uh…I am gonna go get lunch, ill be back in an hour," you told the young girl working the counter as she nodded eagerly, working with her little team to box up cookies for the farmers market on Saturday. It was nice, being able to own something and wholeheartedly care about the team that made it.

You made your way a couple of doors down, stopping inside a small sandwich shop, 'Subs'A'Plenty, carefully ordering off the little kiosk and going to wait patiently for it by the pickup counter. You idly scrolled through your Instagram before feeling a pair of eyes on you, carefully glancing over in the direction and coming eye to eye with Erik who was practically boring holes into you.

You slowly raised a hand to wave at him, and he did so back, albeit a bit surprised as he carefully walked over and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You could argue it was the tail end of a post Christmas cold.

"Hey…"

"Hi, Erik."

"Listen I'm so-"

"I'm sorry."

His eyes widened as his brows furrowed, slowly digesting your apology as you continued.

"I should've texted you, and I should've said something, anything. It wasn't fair to you, it wasn't cool. I was flirting too, and I choked up, and…and I messed things up. It's not your fault, I got scared. I ran." You insisted as you slowly wrung out your fingers.

"You could make it up to me…we could start over?" Erik insisted as you slowly swallowed your doubts and fears, your innate need to run from something possibly dependable. A flaky job, and a flaky friend, and now you had…better friends, you had a better job, you made a way for yourself. So why couldn't you have this?

"Okay…it's nice to meet you, total stranger, at this sandwich place, and wow you're really cute! We should go on a date!"

"Wow, total completely unknown stranger, I'm Erik! It's great to meet you, yeah we totally should go on a date. How about my place for a movie?" He smiled wide as you nodded. "I'm off at eight, I'll be there at eight thirty."

-

You had closed your shop a little early, to find some clothes that were, casual enough for movie night, but didn't suggest you were staying the night either. Coming on too strong was…well it wasn't your style. So you settled on some joggers and a sweater from a local coffee shop, made sure you didn't smell anymore like icing and flour than you could have, and made your way to the Campbell family home.

This time, you had the luxury of using the front door, carefully knocking as Brenda let you in, making small talk with you as you followed her into the kitchen. "You, are going to have so much fun. I am so glad you two reconnected…we kept heading into Sugar Shack to see you but you were never in!"

"Oh! I opened my own…place, actually!" You insisted as you smiled wide, carefully reaching for the glass of wine she offered you as you sipped it lightly.

"That's great to know! I'm so excited that now we know where to find you! I'll make sure to stop by…" she insisted as you smiled. "I told Julia to tell you all but, I guess some things just get lost in translation." You insisted, though you had told Julia not to tell Erik, and Brenda likely would have shared with him so you understood.

"Anyways, let me get out of your hair, enjoy your date…" she insisted, though it was clear there was more she wanted to share. "I'm…I'm very glad you're here. Erik has been just, in pieces, and Jules told me you also…kind of…were experiencing your own grief over the situation. I think you both, deserve each other. A nice thing." She insisted as you laughed lightly. "I'm gonna have to agree, we do deserve nice things."

"I am, so thrilled to hear that sweetheart…maybe I'll see you around the house more?" She questioned as you laughed lightly. "Hopefully,"

She smiled, glancing a bit past you before nodding to take her leave, causing you to turn around to face Erik in a pair of black sweats and a graphic tee for a band you didn't know. Or maybe you did? The metal font made it hard to tell. Smiling at him as he carefully walked over, hand guiding itself across your waist before pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Soooo, we have a couple of options, for our little date. I already took snacks, and stuff…toooo my room? It's the attic-…picked it as a teenager and decided not to move back down, but uhhh…options! Yeah, sooo, there's Scream~ there's uhhh, Sleepaway Camp which is, crazy old school~ and then there's Grave Encounters, but only the second one, I can't find my copy of the first one." He listed as you nodded along, sipping your wine.

"Grave Encounters two, sounds really good. I've seen the first one, so I'm thrilled there's a sequel," you insisted softly as he carefully took your hand, leading you down the hall, up the stairs, and quietly up into the attic as you grinned lightly to yourself.

It was a good setup, a little living room, an actual separated bedroom, and a small bathroom. These people really loved their kids, zero questions. You carefully got situated on the couch as Erik setup the movie, grinning wide at you as he made his way over to you.

"Soooo, how was work?" He pried as he carefully moved to sit beside you, pulling your legs into his lap as he grinned lightly to himself, earning a laugh as you watched the movie as best as you could.

"Good, own my own place now…uhhh, oh I made these huge, I mean huge, peanut butter chocolate mousse pies? They're massive, Erik…but they sell so well~" you cooed as he massaged your calves lightly, listening quietly as you gently adjusted to watch the movie better.

"Sounds like I'm gonna have to stop by, without Bobby so I don't kill him, huh?" He questioned as you grinned lightly, carefully running your fingertips over your own thighs.

"Wouldn't recommend giving it to him unless you were planning to kill him…"

"I'd only kill Bobby if it was for a good reason,"

"Oh yeah, I bet."

"You are, painfully sarcastic." You commented as he leaned towards you, gently pulling you closer by your ankles so your legs hung over the edge of the couch, halfway in his lap as you scoffed lightly. This was comfortable. Fast, but comfortable.

You rolled your eyes as you sat up, flipping so your head was in his lap, his fingers lazily running through your hair, nails taking across your scalp as you hummed lightly.

"You look like the main guy in this movie…Alex?"

"Do not."

"Do so~" you pressed a light kiss to his clothed thigh as he looked back down at you.

"I really don't~"

"But you doooo. He's got your eyes. No tattoos or good piercings, but he's got your eyes." You insisted as he carefully pulled your chin to look up at him, looks like the movie was gonna be background noise.

"You know what else he doesn't have?"

"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me." You moved to sit up to keep talking, all these angles and adjustments were getting uncomfortable.

"He doesn't have, a very cute baker, with a beautifully healed septum, kissing up on his thighs." He murmured as you rolled your eyes lightly.

"I kissed your thigh once, only once…" you insisted as you carefully pressed a kiss to his cheek, his eyes moving down your face back to your lips.

You smiled lightly, carefully moving to hold the sides of his face, letting your breath fan over one another's faces once more. Humming to yourself as you carefully scanned his eyes for any hesitance, only eager patience within them. Slowly moving forward to kiss him.

He tasted like menthol and tobacco, his facial hair grazed your skin. Your eyes fluttering shut as he moved to hold your waist. His wanting hands pulling you closer as you hummed contentedly to yourself. Months is waiting were paying off, and it was paying off in dividends.

He nipped at your lower lip, pierced tongue making its way past your teeth as you moaned lightly. Hands darting through his hair and nails across his scalp as he tugged at the loose material of your top.

"Can I…" he pulled away for air, for permission, easing your shirt over your head as you laughed lightly to yourself and slowly easing your top off as he shuddered lightly.

"Whoa, okay you are…way more into me than I realized~" you laughed as your fingertips grazed her his clothed cock, it twitching at your featherlight touches as you grinned lightly.

"Are you kidding? I'm fucking crazy about you…" he murmured as you carefully slid off the couch, on your knees between his legs as he made a show of looking up at the sky, clutching his hands together, and mouthing a 'thank you' up at nothing in particular as you snorted lightly.

"You are so goddamn dramatic…" you insisted as you carefully pressed gentle kisses along the clothed shaft, even through his sweats and boxers, it seemed to be affecting him immensely. Whining softly and biting down on his lower lip as you rolled your eyes.

"Wait, wait wait wait…shit-" he pulled your head up as you whined in agitation, and at the incredible ache in your scalp. "How…okay, how rough on like, a scale of one to ten?" He prompted as you hummed in thought, slowly running your hands over the tops of his thighs. "Let's just, see what comes naturally, and I will tell you if anything makes me uncomfortable?" You offered as he grinned, kissing the top of your head as you hummed softly. "There you go, sweets…wanna make me happy?"

"The happiest boy in the whole wide world!~" you teased, mimicking one of your first interactions as he laughed lightly to himself. "You are so fucking annoying-"

"Can we stop giggling so I can suck your dick, please?" She questioned as he grinned to himself and carefully raised his hips to work his sweats down.

Erik was…big, not huge, nothing unrealistic, but he was big, and decently thick. A beautiful Prince Albert and the starting rungs of a Jacob's ladder decorating his tip and shaft. Your eyes raking over him as he pulled you up by your hair to look at him.

"I want you to sit on your hands, there you go sweets…now open, open wide…" he insisted as you carefully obliged, tongue past your lower lip a bit as you let him hold the sides of your head and ease himself into your mouth.

A thing you'd quickly learn, was that Erik was a bit of a sadist. Moving quick enough to make you gag a bit, but slow enough not to injure you. Groaning softly as you felt your lips lightly stretch around him. Moaning softly as he eased inch by inch into your wanting mouth. His eyes narrowed in on the way your lashes fluttered, the slow exhales out your nose as he hummed contentedly to himself. "Relax, you got it…" he murmured, easing himself fully into your mouth as you whined softly.

The semi cool metal of his piercings pressed into your tongue, gently grazing the back of your throat as he ran a hand down your back lightly, bending over so his torso kept you pressed into him. "See? Told you you've got it." He laughed lightly, listening to the huff you pressed out your nose before moving to sit back down, mostly wanting to watch.

You bobbed your head slowly, mindful of his piercings as they dragged against the soft top of your tongue, the roof of your mouth. Whining lightly as it took a little more effort than anticipated to move smoothly. His hips rutting lightly as he mumbled under his breath. Slowly taking hold of the sides of your head as he moved you at a pace that better suited his needs.

"Look how pretty you are, sweets. Don't gotta do any of the work, lemme handle it. Fucking that pretty mouth of yours, like you were made for me-" his words were breathy, desperate. Clearly in control but, letting himself melt into the pleasure. "God you're real pretty, you know that?" He laughed lightly, knowing you couldn't respond to all his questions. Your drool collecting in a sweet ring at his base as he hummed, picking up his phone beside him as he pushed your head fully to the base, a soft gag leaving you but nothing that was uncomfortable.

"Look at me…there you go." He carefully took a couple of pictures, your eyes half lidded, hair tousled, nothing but adoration and lust in your eyes as he pay your cheek firmly. "God, I'd really love to keep you like this all night, believe me I would…but I really wanna fuck you." He insisted firmly as you went to lift your head, earning a firm grip to the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

"Aht…that doesn't mean I'm done." He chastised as he pouted condescendingly. "Just relax, you can't be that desperate for me ti fuck you~" he laughed as he held the sides of your head again, moving you a bit faster as breathy moans spilled past his lips, thighs tensing as he panted lightly. "Don't swallow till I fucking tell you, kay?"

You could barely focus, that heat in your stomach was impossible to ignore, feeling yourself clench around nothing, the quaking in your thighs. God you wanted Erik so fucking bad. You needed him to fuck you stupid. Life was stressful, it was nice not to think, let him do all of that for you. Whining softly as you gripped the undersides of your thighs, obedience was key in a moment like this.

Erik hissed a curse through clenched teeth as he pulled back halfway, your eyes widening a bit as you felt him cum on your tongue, eyes flicking back up to him as a bit spilled past the corners of your lips. Erik panting softly as he pet your hair back and slowly pulled himself all the way out.

"Stick your tongue out…that's it." He held your jaw as he took another picture, humming contentedly as you waited patiently for the all clear. His ringed hand patting your cheek as you took it as the cue to swallow.

"If you post those-" you started as he gripped your jaw a bit tighter, leaning down so you were inches from each other. "As if I'd let anybody else see you like this," he placed a chaste kiss to your glossed lips before moving back to pat the couch.

"C'mon sweets…face down, hips up." He insisted as you carefully obliged his request, whining to yourself as you positioned yourself on the well loved couch. Knees sinking into the cushions as your chin rested on the arm of the couch and you sighed softly to yourself.

Erik's hands gripped at the waistband of both of your bottom layers, pulling them off in quick succession as you bit your lip, waiting patiently as Erik laughed lightly to himself. Pressing light kisses to the backs of your thighs, along the curve of your ass, relaxing at the treatment before yelping harshly as he bit your left cheek a bit harder than you'd expect, granted, you didn't expect him to bite your ass. His votes trailed down the backs of your thighs as she whimpered loudly.

"Erik-…" you whined, writhing in anticipation, and the ache of bite marks littered across your skin as you whimpered desperately to yourself. Erik pressing soft kisses along his trail of bites as he rubbed your hips lightly. "Relax…just having fun with you…" he insisted as you glared lightly over your shoulder.

"Erik I swear to god, are you going to fuck me or not-mnhhh-" you were cut off by him already easing the tip of himself into you, the Prince Albert slowly dragging against your walls, the rings of the Jacob's ladder following suit as your eyes rolled and lips curled into a tight 'o' as he laughed lightly.

"Jesus Christ, no patience with you, is there." He laughed as you panted softly, eyes lightly stinging at the stretch, but wasn't the ache just incredible. "Ffffuck…Erik you gotta warn me-" you were cut off again by him rutting his hips, the head of his cock scraping that sweet spot that made your thighs quiver and knees buckle as you whined.

"Shhh, less talking, more moaning." He insisted as your brows furrowed. "You are so corny…"

"Yet I'm inside you, so just relax and take it like you've been begging for, please?" He insisted as you laughed softly to yourself, it littered with breathy moans as he hummed to himself.

He let you adjust fully as he bottomed out, busying himself with kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck, massaging your hips, nails raking down the sensitive skin of your sides as you shuddered and whined up at him.

"You got it sweets…" he assured, pressing one last kiss before pulling back and rolling his hips in one fluid motion, so filling it felt like it punched the air out of your lungs as you groaned desperately. Gripping at the cushions as he laughed lightly, panting softly as he repeated his movements, setting a steady rhythm.

"I am fucking, crazy about you. I haven't quit fucking thinking about you…how bad I want you, how pretty those eyes of yours are, how sweet you are, how you take care of everyone…anyone ever take care of you sweets?"

You couldn't get words out, your brain felt entirely decorative at this point as you moaned through grit teeth, shaking your head at him as he laughed lightly. "Didn't think so, so that's my job. Fuck you stupid, don't have to stress out about anything if you can't think about it." You assured as he hummed softly to himself. "Gonna make you feel like nothing matters, all that does matter? Is letting me fuck you, okay?" He ran it by you, earning a swift nod as you panted loudly to yourself.

His free hand slid down your spine, coming up over your left shoulder as he took light hold of the sides of your neck, lightly choking you as he thrusted. Panting softly as he laughed to himself. "See? Look how much easier that is, moaning and taking my cock…" he murmured as he squeezed a bit, an action that caused you to tighten around him and a strangled moan to leave you as he laughed lightly.

"You're a fucking freak, okay…good to know…" he insisted as he let go and pressed your fave into the arm of the couch, encouraging you to bite down on the fabric as he bottomed out and held himself firmly in place, no longer relenting to you.

"If you want it, work for it…" he insisted as you whined loudly to yourself, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, you loved setting the pace! You just wished it wasn't depriving you of his hips slamming against your ass at a speed you wouldn't be able to replicate without leverage.

You whined as you rolled your hips back, whimpering loudly as you muffled your own moans, Erik groaning desperately as he carefully bucked his hips whenever he knew it would catch you off guard. One of your hands sliding down your tummy to take care of yourself as you sped up, Erik laughing softly at your desperation, though you kept punching the air out of his lungs each time you'd bottom out on his cock and clench, slowly dragging yourself up the rungs of the ladder as he whimpered desperately.

You felt that familiar warmth in your chest, the tightening of your core, the way your thighs quivered as Erik started sloppily thrusting to meet you in the middle. Clearly reaching his ending point as you panted softly. "Fuck fuck fuck, don't stop-" you whined as Erik laughed lightly, rutting into you as he tried to keep himself from cumming before you. "Whatever you need, sweets."

You arched your back lightly as you cried out, nails digging into the plush cushions as you felt yourself tighten up, lashes fluttering as you rode out your orgasm. Arms shaking and chest heaving, Erik fucking you through it before he bottomed out, hips flexing and cock twitching as he pumped you full. Hands rubbing over your sides as he kissed along your shoulders and neck.

He grinned lightly as he carefully pulled away and eased himself out of you, earning a displeased whine from you that he shut up with a kiss, laughing against your lips as your brows furrowed.

"Good movie."

"Great movie…"

"Stay the night?"

"Erik? I'll stay forever if you want…"

[stellar-constellations]

Heart on the Market (ONGOING SERIES) Chapter 1

WARNING: This series will include; NSFW, dead dove, reader is a serial killer, black market possible inaccurate historical slang and fashion, gore, alcohol, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, implications of misandry (male misogyny), perversive thoughts, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (Ashley doesn't exist).

Incest is not Wincest.

Andrew Graves x Old school! Serial killer! Fem! Reader

Wordcount: 3,000+ words

Chapters: Current chapter, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5 (in the works)

        It’s 12 in the morning at the 24 hour diner. Despite it being midnight, the diner was bustling with people eating pancakes and drinking spiked milkshakes; a classic 50’s diner. 

        The floor had black and white checkered tiles had fallen pieces of bacon. One of the tables had spilled milk after a baby knocked their bottle of milk over (why the family is here at this time, she doesn’t know nor does she care). The chairs had chewed gum under them matching the table bottoms too. The red and white counter had drunk men watching an episode of I Love Lucy.

        “Do you need anymore coffee?” (Y/N) smiled, holding a piping hot coffee pitcher, steam escaping from the top of the lid.

        “Thank you, dear.” A little old lady smiled, probably thinking it was 5 AM in winter when the sun wasn’t up instead of it being 12 o’ clock in the summer.

        “Need anymore hash browns?” (Y/N) smiled, grabbing her notepad and pen from her white apron tied around her waist, the tight strings accentuating her figure.

        “No, but I’ll take a cookie for the road.” The lady smiled.

        “Coming right up, ma’am.” (Y/N) smiled, her black flats walking against the sticky tiled floor as her light blue skirt twirled around her knees.

        She walked behind the counter to the display of cookies resting there since yesterday, grabbing a cookie and throwing it in a small, white paper bag. She stapled the bag closed and walked back to her customer, handing her the cookie.

        “There you go, ma’am. Is that all for you tonight?” (Y/N) smiled.

        “Yes, that’ll be it.” The lady smiled, her sunken cheeks turning up to show her dentures.

        “I’ll get the check.” (Y/N) hummed, walking back to the counter and printing out the check for table 26. 

        She walked back to the old lady, grabbing the printed receipt and handing it to the lady.

        “Careful, the ink’s fresh.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        “Thank you.” The lady smiled, placing 30 bucks on the counter.

        “Oh, ma’am. You dropped a few bucks.” (Y/N) spoke, counting the cash. “Your meal was 13 bucks.”

        “Keep the change as a tip.” The lady smiled, before leaving the diner.

        “Fool…” (Y/N) snickered to herself, placing the tip in her tip pouch on her hip as she took the meal’s money to the cash register. 

        Old people are so easy to butter up. She thought, smiling. All it takes is a few nice words to make them smile a million bucks. Not to mention their retirement money.

        If she keeps it up earning these tips, maybe she can buy a new dress. She’s been meaning to get another poodle skirt anyways.

        (Y/N) sorted out the money in the cash register before closing it, walking into the back. There were tablets there on the walls for her to clock out of.

        Unnecessary screens in unnecessary places… (Y/N) thought, annoyed. These new generations and their technology!

        (Y/N) clocked herself out on time, heading to her work locker and inserting her combination. She grabbed her work bag and took it with her into the bathroom, changing into her regular clothes. 

        She put on a black and red fit-and-flare dress with her nude stockings and black gloves. She grabbed her black hand-purse, throwing her work clothes into her work bag. She undid her hair’s bun and brushed her hair out, letting it hang off her shoulders as she put on a black headband with a bow on top in her hair. 

        She exited the bathroom, putting her work bag back into her locker and shutting it, then exiting the diner out back, walking down the streets.

        The streets had an occasional stranger walking down, giving her a weird look at her old 1950’s outfits, but others have seen her enough to know it was her style by now. 

        She held her purse and walked down the streets, before taking a turn down a dark alley. 

        It stunk of trash and the air was humid, but that was normal in every overpopulated city. Thank god this city wasn’t a night-life one at least, how troublesome it would be for her work.

        A stumbling man appeared in view, leaning on the brick walls of a building, taking a few wary steps before stopping again. He looked absolutely shit-faced, with a fire red face and dilated pupils; drunk and lethargic. 

        “Do you need any help, sir?” (Y/N) questioned, her transatlantic accent she gained from growing up watching too many movies of the 1930’s shined through.

        “I-I need… "urgh…” the male groaned, tipsy before collapsing to his feet, trying to hold his stomach in.

        “Oh, pardon me.” (Y/N) smiled, walking closer without fear as her black Mary Jane’s hit the ground.

        He probably thought he traveled back in time as he looked at her, confused at the blurry figure approaching.

        “Now, sir. Public intoxication is very bad, you know? You can be charged!” (Y/N) scolded, a playful tone in her voice as she crept closer, before coming up behind him.

        She fished a black lipstick container out of her purse, popping open the lid to show a black tube with a small green and red button.

        “Allow me to help you.” She smiled, pressing the tube to the back of his neck, before holding down the red button, allowing blue sparks to buzz through the air, shocking him.

        He convulsed, drool flooding out of his mouth as he yelped, before a flood of vomit followed.

        “There you go!” (Y/N) cheered supportingly as he kept the stun gun to his neck.

        She removed the tube, watching him fall to the ground, disoriented and confused.

        “See, sir. The problem there is your stomach was empty. You don’t ever drink on a empty stomach, no wonder you’re ill!” (Y/N) smiled. “A proper man could hold their liquor at the very least.”  

        Then again, this modern day and age doesn't know a thing about chivalry unless it's to get under a woman's dress... (Y/N) thought, frowning.

        "Now, let's see." (Y/N) hummed, crouching down beside the drunken male lying in his own vomit. 

        She picked his head up by his hair, yanking it back roughly. "A 4 o' clock shadow that's stubbly. Dilated pupils. Nauseating scent. You must not take good care of your liver considering your performance of drinking tonight..." She frowned, sighing. "It must not hold much value, but something is better than nothing..."

        She threw his head back into his bile, reaching into her gloved hand into purse and putting away her lipstick stun gun, replacing it with a 1930's Remington Rh36 hunting knife. She picked the disoriented man's head up, placing the knife under his throat, before making a jagged line around his neck.

        "It's a good thing I wore my black pair today!" (Y/N) chirped, referring to her gloves as she dropped the man's head, sitting down on his back so he couldn't get up and fight.

        She watched him squirm under her, warm crimson puddling under her as she counted, "99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall." She smiled, looking down at him. "Oh, good sir. Where is your spirit? Sing with me!"

        She grabbed his chin, pressing her thumb on his bottom lip and pressing down as blood spurted out of his mouth. "98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around——how many do we have?" (Y/N) smiled, pressing down on the now dead man's lips. "97!" she chirped, putting on a high-pitched voice. "Good job! 97!" she smiled, letting go of his chin. 

        She stood up, smoothing down her dress and stepping off the man's back. She grabbed her dirty knife, wiping the blade on the man's clothes. 

        She placed the knife down into her purse, pulling out a neatly folded black trash bag. She unfolded the bag and opened it, shoving the man's head in first (careful to avoid the pile of vomit), before bending his body awkwardly, a crack playing out somewhere in his legs as she forced him into the bag, tying it up.

        "Citizen's trash duty: completed." She smiled, picking up the trash bag handles and pulling it down the alley with her. 

        (Y/N) dragged it with her, taking a shortcut down the alleyway and walking a few blocks until she got to the back of her apartment complex.

        (Y/N) dragged the body bag up the fire escape stairs, careful not to tip backwards as the dead man’s head ‘thunked’ against the metal stairs over and over. 

        Upon reaching the top of the stairwell, she grabbed a spare key she copied stealing the owner’s once, grabbing the copy from her purse and unlocked the door. 

        She dragged the body inside the halls, taking the body up the stairs since every lazy piece of modern trash around here used the elevators.

        She took the body with her down her hallway, fishing for her front door’s key inside of her purse, before pausing as the neighbor’s door next to her opened.

        A man stepped out, pale skin akin to snow and eyes fresh like the Iceland hills. There were bags under his eyes, tired as he yawned, wearing a red shirt as his uniform for his job as a gas station attendant. 

        Andrew Graves; a recluse of a man, if even a person. Andrew doesn’t talk with (Y/N), not unless she corners him by the mailboxes and blabbers with him. 

        For some reason, the boy couldn’t fall for her charisma or even her appearance. She didn’t understand it; everyone likes her, why doesn’t he?

        Perhaps he was just one of those people with a good sixth sense, but whatever it was, it infuriated (Y/N). How was she supposed to maintain a good social image if her next door neighbor didn’t have any good words to say about her?

        How could he have any good words to say now that his eyes were widened with surprise and fear, looking down at her feet, where she looked and saw a leg hanging out of the bag, a trail of blood down the hallways.

        The bag must’ve ripped upon climbing the stairs somewhere.

        (Y/N) stared at the leg, both of them frozen in place as the complex’s AC kicked in. 

        (Y/N) quickly lunged at Andrew, shoving him back into his apartment. She drug the bag with her, entering his apartment and closing the door behind her.

        Andrew’s apartment was completely dark, an unfamiliar terrain as she felt the walls for a light switch before switching it on, illuminating the room. 

        Andrew was on the ground, silently crawling backwards, making sure to look in her direction before he froze as the light came on. 

        “Ah!” (Y/N) sighed, happy as she quickly dropped onto her knees, crawling after him like a child.

        She caught up to him quickly, especially since he hit the back of his couch, her hands pressing down on his chest as she leaned in, pushing her nose against his.

        “I found you~” she smirked.

        “What the fuck was that?” Andrew questioned, his eyes shooting behind her at the body bag.

        “A Halloween prop.” (Y/N) responded quickly.

        “It’s December.” Andrew retorted.

        “A prop for Krampus, dummy! He’s a Halloween-Christmas guy!” she smiled.

        “It’s an apartment complex! We don’t do decorations!” Andrew spoke, still scared but a bit annoyed that she took him as dumb enough to believe that.

        “Well we do now.” (Y/N) smiled.

        “I’m not dumb!” Andrew snapped. “So you’re the Manson Murderer, huh?” 

        Ah, the Manson Murderer, what a name she’s built for herself! "Manson Murderer Multilates Again!" and "Who is the Man of Manson?"

        How funny they even think it’s a man. The only reason why so many men are trialed for murder, is because nobody believes a dainty flower of a woman could stabbed a man 41 times in his chest.

        “Oh, my! What an accusation!” (Y/N) giggled, staring into his eyes as their faces were mere centimeters apart.

        “Don’t you even try lying to me…” Andrew growled, his eyes hardened as he toughened himself up in front of her.

        “Oh, have no fear, darling! I would never lie to you, you’re much too smart!” (Y/N) giggles, although she knew it was true.

        Could it be possible he never liked her because he knew something was up with her? Is this his proof to having a reason to dislike her, not just because he was an introverted loser?

        “Andrew, Andrew, Andrew…” (Y/N) muttered, clicking her tongue as her hand came up to his cheek, caressing it as he flinched at the sudden affection. “My love, why are you so scared? Don’t you know I would never hurt you? Not a man as handsome as yourself at least.” She purred.

        “See, Andrew. There are certain duties people like I must fulfill. Someone has to clean the streets up after all.” She hummed.

        “Why’d you do it?” Andrew questioned.

        “Why didn’t I?” she smiled.

        “That isn’t an answer—“ Andrew muttered, but was cut off by her.

        “Now, Andrew. You’ll keep your mouth shut, yes?” she smiled. “I would certainly hate… for you to become scum at the bottom of a dumpster after all…

        Andrew knew was she was implying. Trash for her to take out like it was a normal Monday.

        “Yes…” Andrew seethed through his teeth, not too happy about it.

        “Good!” (Y/N) smiled, taking her purse and flipping out her pocket knife.

        “W-woah, hey! Hey! I said I won’t tell!” Andrew panicked, squirming but had nowhere to run as he was still pressed against the couch. 

        “Don’t worry, darling. I’m only sealing our promise.” (Y/N) smiled, pulling up his shirt.

        Andrew froze as she placed the knife onto his right side, before a hiss escaped his lips as she impaled the skin, carving into it like leather.

        “Pardon my handwriting; mother always said I was messy.” (Y/N) smirked, smiling as the pretty blood ran down his side, matching his red shirt.

        “F-fuck!” Andrew gasped, biting down onto his lips.

        “When this mark heals, you can tell people it’s me who is the Manson Murderer.” (Y/N) smiled. “But for now, you’re mine to keep, so be a good boy and be quiet.”

        (Y/N) smiled, admiring her craftsmanship before wiping the excess blood from the knife off on Andrew’s shirt. 

        She placed her pocketknife back into her purse, before looking at her words. She stuck out a gloved finger, scooping up some of the red liquid and wiping it on her bottom lip, closing her lips and smearing it like lipstick.

        “Mwah! Red looks good on me, don’t you think?” (Y/N) smiled, looking at Andrew as his head was thrown back against the couch’s back, panting as he endured the pain.

        “F-fuck… fucking bitch.” He hissed, his eyes sharp as he looked down at her. “Gonna fucking kill you…”

        “Mm… keep talking like that…” (Y/N) purred, sitting down on her knees in between his legs, resting both her hands on his cheeks. “I like it.”

        She leaned in, kissing his lips with her bloodied ones.

        Andrew froze, shocked and helpless on what to do as he bled from his side. His neighbor, his neighbor who was a murderer, was kissing him right now.

        One of her hands traveled down to his jaw, before guiding down to his chest sensually, reaching his stomach. Her lips moved against his closed ones, enjoying the power she had over him.

        Her hand went to his side, her thumb pressing down onto his wound, causing him to yelp and open his mouth. She quickly dove her tongue into Andrew’s mouth, his cheeks puffing out as her tongue hit them, exploring the taste of his mouth and blood.

        “Ah, you taste good…” (Y/N) muttered against his lips. “It’s too bad your heart isn’t on the market, I’d love to own it…” (Y/N) smiled.

        Andrew couldn’t look further into her words as she kissed him again. He couldn’t taste anything except rust, and was that a hint of strawberry? Strawberry lipgloss perhaps? She did wear red lipgloss just like every other 1950’s girl did, just like her preferred timeline. Lipgloss so it wasn’t too showy, but still shined and was appropriate for every outfit.

        Her tongue parted from his mouth, leaving him breathless (from her lips or from his wound, he wasn’t sure) as a string of saliva connected the two.

        “I’ll teach you how to reciprocate later on. It makes it far more enjoyable, you know?” (Y/N) giggles, watching as Andrew’s face went pink.

        It felt hot in here even though the AC was on, signaling to (Y/N) that she had to go and take care of this body before it started decomposing faster due to this heat.

        “I’ll see you real soon, Andrew… You’ll keep our promise, right?” (Y/N) spoke, tilting her head and purposely puffing out her lips in a show of innocence and seduction.

        “Mm… y-yeah. Yeah, I will…” Andrew muttered, laser-focused on her lips.

        “Be good for me now.” (Y/N) smiled, getting up off the floor. 

        Andrew watched from the floor as she walked to his front door, dragging the body bag with her as she shut the door behind her, going back to her apartment.

        He couldn’t believe this. His cute neighbor was a murderer, and he kissed her. And he liked it.

        His face was burning up, along with his body, but he didn’t know if that was his pain receptors responding to the pain or not. He was hot and sweaty, it suddenly felt too hot for his shirt and everything else, especially under his belt.

        Why the fuck did her lips have an impact on him like that? Why was it just her lips? Why did she kiss him in the first place? 

        Andrew groaned, looking down at the marking she made on him, carving him like a piece of property.

        “Mine.” The carving read.

        Fuck. He can’t go to work like this. He needs to go to the bathroom, clean up this wound and jerk one (or maybe a few) off.

        Oh, he’ll get her back for doing this to him.

Chapters: Current chapter, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5 (in the works)

I'm sorry for the short chapter, the first chapters are always short to get the reader's attention. I don't want to add too much information that'll draw you guys away! This story is gonna be a spicy one featuring NSFW, so beware.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

[zivazivc]

Because of a recent ask about the dad's name I am dropping this old drawing that should go along with a oneshot I doubt I'll ever finish because I don't like it anymore, so better I just put this out there.

The dad's name is Keanu and his husband's name is Wave. I don't actually know anything about them but here they are 😅

And you can find a portion of the unfinished fic with this scene under the cut. Warning: Floyd is a mess. A much much bigger one than I actually/currently think his present self is, hence why I don't like this so much anymore (and it was never meant to be canon to my ex bandmates au anyway). It's still pretty funny though.

. . .

Before Bruce could notice the change in Floyd’s mood his eyes caught movement behind him by the entrance to the restaurant. His grin eased down into a more relaxed smile for him to return to business.

“We have another troll family coming in,” he said and turned around to pick up a set of small, freshly-printed and laminated menus from the counter. “Been getting quite a number of those since we hosted the concert.”

Floyd snatched them from his hand, eager to push the replay of his anxiety to the back of his mind, and get back to work. “I’m on it," he said determinedly. "You take care of the big guys.”

He didn’t even know if he could handle carrying another Vaycaytioner-sized family-sized order of food. He hogged the regularly-sized troll customers as much as he could. 

The new guests had settled behind one of the small inflatable plastic tables in the pool area close to the entrance where the sun was shining through. Even with their lower halves submerged in water, Floyd could immediately tell that they were Techno Trolls from the way their hair flowed in the air, like gravity was just an afterthought to them.

Once he got closer, Floyd saw that it was presumably two dads around his age with their two kids. His eyes immediately glued themselves to the older, more physically attractive of the two men, because that’s what he always seemed to find himself doing in these situations. Not that it was his fault the guy was hot and Floyd had been grounded to perfume bottles, armadillo RVs, and underground bunkers for months on end.

When he made it to the pool edge and stood right above their floating table, he finally caught himself gazing. He blinked and reeled his stupid horny thoughts back in before he would do something dumb like bite his lip and give him the bedroom eyes in front of his husband and kids. Not that something like that had been completely beneath him in the past. But he was currently on a shift in his brother’s restaurant, so…

He put on a more acceptable, family-friendly smile.

“Hi, welcome,” he said easily, sounding nothing like how his spasmodic thoughts felt in his head. “How’s everyone doing? You guys hungry?”

He crouched down and leaned over the edge of the pool to hand them the menus.

“Starving, actually,” the attractive techno troll said with a friendly laugh in his voice, and leaned over the inflatable table to grab them. And Floyd’s eyes traveled down that toned arm and exposed stomach. Not only did he ooze the confident, warm charisma of someone who had his life together, he was also fit. Floyd almost fell into the pool in his attempt to accidentally brush fingers with him. The guy was back in his spot in the water before either of those things happened, much to Floyd’s relief and disappointment.

He straightened up and pulled up his notepad and pencil almost like a shield. Fuck, Floyd, get your head straight! “Can I get you anything to drink while you decide what you'll have?”

“Nah, I think we’ll look first,” the guy replied without lifting his eyes as he handed the menus to the rest.

Floyd was about to give up on his first round of trying to get this man’s attention, and sigh in relief that his stupid wants weren’t being entertained, when he registered a different set of eyes staring hard at him. He glanced to the left, to the other guy behind the table.

The intensity of the glare nearly made Floyd recoil.

His first thought was: Shit, I wasn’t even trying to be obvious. Because when he was, the angry stares he would receive from jealous boyfriends or girlfriends were usually heated and flustered, not intensely sharp and cold. The steadiness with which he was being pinned didn’t even feel like a newly developed loathing.

Shit was also Floyd’s second thought. He’s looking at me like we know each other… I haven’t already fucked his man before, have I? Floyd wasn’t so good with faces or names …or memory in general when it came to certain episodes in his life. But surely the hot husband would have remembered him at least…

Then his mind wandered to the other possibility. Did we fuck??

Whenever he tried to iron out his life, his stupid past actions always seemed to come back to bite him in the ass. He really hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

He stared at the troll’s face, trying to place him somewhere. Techno Troll (that didn’t narrow it down that much), hair in two different gradients of blue, dark purple skin, a younger-looking face even for a Techno Troll, bright green eyes, and green freckles…

Sweat broke down Floyd’s back, and it had nothing to do with his recovering physical condition.

He swallowed uncomfortably and instinctively pulled his pencil and paper slightly closer to his chest. His eyes finally looked over to the other side of the inflatable table. He had only briefly glanced at the kids before, enough to know they were kids and uninteresting. But looking at them now… Floyd immediately deviated a couple of shades from his natural hue.

Neither had any of the hunky dad’s warm colors; in fact, the kids weren’t even fully Techno. They were mixed like his friend Liv. The scarce strands of thin, luminescent Techno cords were nearly swallowed up by dense, fluffy, regular hair. The girl—they were a boy and a girl—was lounging on a pool float with her feet in the air, and Floyd could see that instead of flippers, she had legs with the unusually webbed feet, kind of something like an amphibian. The other kid—the boy—had skin that didn't have the dim effect or rubbery texture to it that Techno Trolls normally had, and it was an uncomfortably familiar shade of turquoise. Both of them sported hot pink bangs over their eyes.

“Ah,” Floyd uttered out loud like some kind of dumbass.

The three heads who had been engrossed in the restaurant menu all looked up, surprised to see him still standing there. Floyd evaded their gazes only to lock eyes with the purple troll again.

He… He was the kid from the week-long, non-stop techno rave, back when Floyd had been deep in his sour worm addiction and going through a long manic episode to top it off… At one point during the party someone brought out pure citric acid and Floyd blanked out for three days straight after that, only to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with a double surprise…

It was like a switch, but now Floyd could clearly remember the young adult version of this troll floating around his dorm room with the egg from Floyd’s head in his hands, panicking about how his parents were going to kill him, all while Floyd silently lay in bed contemplating if he should mention the other egg stuck in the kid's hair or if he should just say he’s going to the bathroom and then never return.

“Uhm.” He swallowed uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but here. Maybe not the crystal bottle, but anywhere else. “…I think I should get you a different waiter…”

The purple troll’s glare did not waver in the slightest. “I think so too.”

Floyd took that as permission to bail on him a second time. He turned around on his heel and practically ran from the pool edge.

“Keanu, you good?” he heard the husband ask, sounding obviously confused about what just transpired.

Well, at least Floyd knew what to call that troll in his head now instead of just "kid"…

. . .

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the hungry eyes series | introduction

chapter details: a journalist begins writing about the beef on an article of small businesses in chicago. will this just be a story about the startup of the original beef, or will it become something more?

author's notes: hihi everyone! welcome to the world of the hungry eyes. so, i've wanted to write a mikey series for a while now and figured this was a nice way to do so! i do just want to say (as i am literally balancing a career / life outside of tumblr + another account with a series) the chapters may take a while to be uploaded! thank you advance for your patience <3 also, this is not meant to be taken as canon in any way / will not end like how mikey's story in the bear does end. i did think about it but i couldn't bring myself to write it so you get to be saved from pure angst! woo! (i make no promises this won't include a sprinkle of angst tho)

This was the worst idea he’d ever agreed to. And it had all started with an email.

Mikey almost never actually checked the emails for the Beef. Too much shit he didn’t care enough to follow up on and he could “pretend he never got it” if it was truly important.

He knew it was a habit he needed to break. But again, that was something he didn't care to think about.

And the one day he does? A message in his inbox, reading just the line — “Interview Request.”

It was for some assistant to a journalist who wrote about smaller businesses in Chicago - Y/N Y/L/N. The email had a simple text in it:

“Hi there! We’re reaching out to see if The Original Beef of Chicagoland would like to be featured in our next print of Digestive Chicago. This would be a six week process where we interview your staff, you, customers and take a look behind the front windows! Please let us know a time and date for Y/N Y/L/N to speak with you.

All the best, the Chicago Tribune Team.”

Of course, Mikey had never considered actually taking her up on the offer. To him, it could go one of two ways.

One - it goes great and the Beef gets more customers. Better business.

Two - it all goes to hell, somehow, and Mikey gets blamed. This one was the likely scenario in his mind. It had to be, right?

But, as always, Marcus had pointed out it would be good publicity, and Natalie had told him it was needed for the Beef to actually get out there to the area.

Stupidly, he agreed. That’s how this whole ordeal started.

A journalist named Y/N showing up to his small restaurant in downtown Chicago. A notepad and tape recorder set on a table by the window, and him telling the story of how this came to be.

“So. Tell me what gave you the inspiration for The Original Beef of Chicagoland.”

Where was he supposed to begin?

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[bluedalahorse]

WIP Acrostic Game

I was tagged by @starvalisedham and @gulliblelemon in this cool acrostic game!

Rules: You will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was given the words ROYALS and SNOW. Since I have two fics I’m hoping to finish and share this October (for you know, reasons) I decided to assign each word to a fic. The second fic will go under a cut.

For SNOW, I’m using line from L’escarpolette, which is a saraugust future fic of sorts.

S

Sara zips her raincoat closed, grateful she packed it along with her for this week’s filming excursion.

N

No matter how many times Sara reshuffles and substitutes words on her touchscreen, she can’t extract the ghosts of old sentiments that might lurk behind them.

O

On top of a hill stands an ancient tree, black against wet silver sky, branches outstretched like the arms of a spell-casting sorceress. From the thickest branch hangs a swing, as much a stark silhouette as its arboreal mother.

W

“Want to come along? I wouldn’t mind.”

For ROYALS, I’m using lines from an as-of-yet untitled stedrika fic. This one is also set in the future, but it has a very different tone than the first.

R

“Right here on the sofa.”

O

Oh, this was delicious. Stella was pink-cheeked and squirming with shame.

Y

You look so serious. It’s giving I never cheated on a math test by writing equations on my thigh…

A

A makeup stain on the collar of her blouse she only noticed one subway stop away from work, when it was too late to go home and change.

L

“Like, for the aesthetic, obviously.” Fredrika takes another moment to think about it. “So… yes.”

S

Stella didn’t know they made cutesy notepads for kink negotiation, but maybe Fredrika designed this one herself and had it printed custom.

—

And that’s a wrap! I’m doing no-pressure tags for @sflow-er, @peakotp, @margotdanslebois, and @heliza24. Your word, if you choose to do the challenge, is STRING.