#saw fanfic

[coryosbaby]

top adam x bottom fem reader? tumblr is lacking 💔

—ᴀᴠᴀ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ !

Adam Stanheight x fem! Bimbo! Reader

✯ Content Warning . semi public sex (in an alley), club scene, choking, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, mild anal, p n v, degradation & praise, creampie, a lil bit of punk Adam with nipple piercings <33

Staring off across the room could not have been as helpful as it is right now.

A man’s hands are grabbing your hair, pressing you between his warm body and a brick wall behind you. He smells good, like some cheap cologne and soap but in the best way possible. He’s got some kind of eyeliner on his lower lashline and a curve hugging t shirt that makes you swoon. You had watched him from across the room under the strobe lights. He had saw you, approached, talked. His name is Adam.

You don’t know him— not really. You know who he is, thanks to a news article you read a few months ago. You know what had happened to him, after he had escaped a viscous serial killer and somehow got out alive. You know that taking a girl in an alleyway is probably his way of blowing off steam. But he was nice enough to strike up conversation before he jumped your bones— even asked to take your picture.

“Trying to remember the scene,” he had said, chuckling nervously. “especially you. You’re the prettiest view here.”

And after that, you had both somehow made your way to the back alley and he had set his camera down and sooner or later you had shoved your tongue down his throat. And okay, so this seems a little trashy, but so what? You would’ve fucked him either way, whether it be at home or at his apartment. And besides— something about this boy has you willing to be fucked like a cheap slut in the middle of an alleyway. And who can blame you, honestly.

If you didn’t know any better, you would ask Adam out.

But you don’t think about that possibility right now— can’t think about that. His crotch is grinding up against yours, his lips consuming you until he pulls away.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asks. He wants you, but he wants to make sure that being fucked in an alleyway is something you’re into.

Nodding, you ignore the pain in your heels as you lift on your tippy toes in your stilettos. Biting teasingly at his neck, you let out a small breath of air.

“‘S perfect. Now why don’t you shut up and fuck me?”

His eyes are glazed with lust, and his hand reaches down to grab the flesh of your ass.

“Yeah?” He mutters. “Right here?”

At your nod, he shakes his head and chuckles.

“Never met a chick like you before.”

He dives back in for another taste of your lips. His tongue strokes your bottom lip, wet and filthy and oh so delicious. You run your hands up his shirt, feeling the warm skin and the light patch of hair on his chest. Running your hands over his chest, you’re met with the sensation of cold metal.

Nipple rings.

“Been wanting some of these,” you mention to him, and he grins against you.

“Hurt like a bitch. Wouldn’t recommend if you have a low pain tolerance.”

“Mmmm..”

You continue to kiss him again, this time flicking over his nipples and playing with the barbells. It drives him crazy, and he becomes more sex crazed and desperate. After a moment he pulls your face away from him. Without warning, he turns you around and shoves your face against the wall. Letting out a tiny gasp, your pussy aches as he pushes your legs apart with one of his own and moves down to his knees. He kneads your ass with his hands, lifting up your pink latex dress to expose your soft ass to him. Groaning, he takes notice of the tiny black thong that’s settling in between your cheeks.

“Shit,” he whispers solely to himself. You smirk. You knew that the lace would come in handy if you got laid tonight.

“Like it?” You say, amused. His hands move up to spread your cheeks. The slightly chilled night air makes your eyes scrunch shut in pleasure.

“So fucking sexy.” Adam praises, and he leans in, using his thumb to move away the thong’s string. Watching your dripping pussy from this angle, his cock is so hard that it hurts. Your little clit is settled between two swollen lips, hole clenching and unclenching. Adam takes sight of you under the street lamp a distance away that serves as your only source of light. He thinks you’re beautiful.

He brings his lips to your clit; pressing a soft kiss there, he lets out a small mewl. He kisses all over you, moving up to the globes of your ass to leave wet ones in a trail. And unexpectedly, his finger finds your puckered asshole, running it along on it. He slips his thumb in, gentle, and with his other hand he reaches around to play with your aching pussy. He finds your hole and he probes it with the tip of his tongue, while his finger slides inside your ass. He thrusts one, in, out, in, out, and it’s not long before he adds a second as he begins to devour your cunt like a man starved. Groaning against you, he makes sure to get your pussy nice and wet, makes sure to drool and spit on it as much as he can. You like boys like this; boys that are desperate and messy but still manage to somehow make you submit. Because this whole time, your mouth is spewing so many vulgar phrases, begging, pleading.

“Please! ‘S good, Adam, it’s so good, wanna be good for you…”

“Want you to make me cum, want your cock…”

And Adam’s got this hunger as he hears these words, as your hole feeds him your delicious arousal. He wants to fuck you until you stop breathing.

It’s not long before he presses down on your clit and rubs while his tongue is still probing your walls. Instantly, white hot heat licks up your spine and you can’t help but cum all over Adam’s pretty mouth. You shove your wrist in your mouth to keep quiet but it’s so hard. You haven’t had your pussy ate like this in a while.

Wiping his mouth, Adam grins from behind you as he lifts himself back up to his feet. He begins to undo his belt, the skull shaped buckle glinting in front of his eyes. He unzips his fly, pulling out his hard cock. He strokes himself as he watches your ass grind back desperately against him.

“Still so needy…” He grunts. “God, you’re a slut, aren’t you?”

You mewl, hands reaching behind to spread your cheeks and present yourself to him again. You’re like a bitch in heat for this perfect stranger. He takes notice, instantly shoving his cock against your clit and tapping a few times. He’s being such a tease.

“Adam, cmon..” you whine, trying to adjust your hips so his mushroomed head can catch on your dripping seam. He just shakes his head, rubbing his cock up and down your folds.

“Beg for it,” he whispers against your neck. “Beg for this cock.”

“Please,” you instantly moan out. “Please fill me up. My pussy needs your cock so bad…”

And Adam isn’t a patient guy, so of course he gives into your demands and slides his throbbing cockhead into your entrance. He tilts his head back, mouth falling open, as he enters your warm canal. You mewl against him. He’s big, not too much that its incredibly painful but just enough to give you that delicious stretch.

Adam’s face buries itself into your neck, small sounds leaving his throat as he finally sinks in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Are you always this tight?”

“Mhmmmm,” you say, feeling confident. Your hands reach behind you to run through his dark hair. “Been needing a cock inside me for weeks.”

He thrusts into you a bit harsher now, nipping at your jugular with his teeth.

“Yeah?” He breathes. “Should’ve met me sooner baby,” and then, with a much darker tone, “Could fill up this pussy every day if you’d let me.”

And now you know you need to ask for his number. Because you’ve never felt this needy and this hot for another human being in your life. Maybe it’s love at first sight— or fuck at first sight. It doesn’t matter. He’s beginning to pummel your guts like you’re a fuck doll, grunting into your ear as his hips slap loudly against yours. His hands wrap around your hair and he pulls you back towards his awaiting thrusts.

“Clenching so tight. Making my dick so wet, baby, fuck.”

Squirming in his grasp, you let out a squeak when he bites down on your neck harshly. Like a fucking vampire, the boy begins to suckle up the blood into his mouth. As he pulls away, his pace speeds up impossibly quick.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” He coos. “Who’s fucking this cute little pussy this good?”

“You!” You gasp. “All you, Adam, ‘m yours— shit!”

You’re about to cum embarrassingly fast once again. Just one little flick to your clit and you’ll be spilling all over his cock. Adam takes your ass in his palms and spreads you again so he can watch as you take him.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes. “Such a good, pretty slut. Gonna make you cum so fuckin’ hard on me.”

Your eyes roll back, and he reaches around to rub your clit with his fingers. You seize up, letting out a choked sound, as you cum all over him. He whimpers as he feels your pussy spasm around him, and his fingers on your hips become bruising. You can’t help but have the desire to be filled up with his spend; it doesn’t matter if he might leave you after this, you want him to leave you used and dripping in his cum. You press your hand to his lower stomach from behind you, working your hips hard against him.

“Cum inside me,” You plead, overstimulated. “Need your cum to fill me up. Please, I need it—“

“Shit!” His hips begin to stutter, and with one last stroke he’s cumming.

He rides out his high until his cum is dripping down his balls, his eyes shut and a montage of delicious praises spilling out of him.

When he finishes he gently pulls out of your gaping pussy. Tucking himself back into his pants, he pulls your underwear up with gentle hands. He turns you around, fixing the straps on your dress.

“Okay?” He asks, and you smile as if you’re doped out and nod.

“Never better.”

He laughs, a light flush caking his cheeks now.

“Good,” he says, then chuckles awkwardly. “Uhm— thanks. For..”

He gestures to your body, fumbling with his hands.

“No problem.” You reply. “It’s late. I should be getting home.”

“I can walk you to your car,” Adam says quickly.“I mean, if you want.”

Something tugs in your chest, wondering how the once rough boy is so shy now. You lean up to him, planting a kiss to his cheek.

“I would love that, Adam. Thank you.”

Adam grins, helping you balance on your shoes as you wobble towards the parking lot.

“So… I was wondering if I could get your number?”

You’re relieved that he asked first. You look up at him, his neck caked in hickeys and bites from your own kiss bitten lips.

“Definitely.”

#Adam stanheight #Adam stanheight x reader #Adam stanheight x fem! reader #adam faulkner stanheight #adam saw #saw fanfic #adam stanheight smut #dom! adam stanheight #adam stanheight x bimbo! reader #saw #saw 2004 #saw x #leigh whannell #saw franchise #bunny writes ͟͟͞☆

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

Traps || A Mark Hoffman x f!reader SMUT

Summary: Mark Hoffman and (Y/N) hate each other , but what happens when tinkering on traps in the same workshop leads leads to spicy tension?

Warnings: NSFW, hate sex, degrading/explicit language, only one partner being fully nude , Mark Hoffman’s temper

Note: Hello my fellow Big Bad Hoffman enthusiasts, this is my very first smut piece (as in ever) and I really hope it’s not too bad. I’ve read over it a couple of times and hope there aren’t any major mistakes.

Have fun reading ✨

“What do you want?” the deep grumble of Mark Hoffman’s voice vibrates through the room of the warehouse, as (Y/N) enters the room. “Certainly nothing from you.” She rolls her eyes, already annoyed by the man’s presence, as she walks over to the shelves across the table that Hoffman is working at. “I was in the middle of something important.” the man grumbles, looking up from the contraption he was currently tinkering on. She huffs, ignoring the man as she roams through the shelf in front of her. “Have you seen my blueprints anywhere?” Not lifting his gaze from the piece of metal he was currently securing, he gestures to the shelves. “Check your bloody work area. I’m not your secretary.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman pauses her movements. “You know, if you’d answer me like a fucking decent human being, I’d be out of your way much quicker.” (Y/N) grumbles, shoving a box of scrap metal aside.

A few moments pass, before (Y/N) spots her blueprints on the very top of the shelf, leading her to mutter a string of curse words under her breath. The young woman turns around, pointing to the chair next to Hoffman. “Do you need that?” Mark pauses for a moment and shrugs his shoulders before he mutters a simple “Suit yourself.” Stepping over to the table, she wordlessly grabs the chair and drags it back to the shelf before climbing onto it in order to reach for her blueprints. “I’m gonna kill whoever put those up here,” she mutters, struggling to pull one of the prints out from underneath a box. A spark of amusement twinkles in Mark’s otherwise deadpan expression as he watches his fellow apprentice struggling to get what she wants. Cold, hungry eyes travelling up and down her body as she stretches to reach the blueprints, Hoffman suddenly finds himself grateful for whoever has moved her stuff to the top shelf, enjoying the view in front of him.

Feeling his gaze on her (Y/N) looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at the man, before turning back around and opening one of the blueprints in order to inspect it. Hoffman decides to wait a moment before speaking in a mocking tone “Your temper is rather volatile.” Keeping her focus on the blueprint she murmurs “Thanks asshole.” “No problem, love.” the detective replies in a snarky tone, before picking up his tools again to continue working on his trap.

Ignoring the man and the feeling caused by the petname, she steps down from the chair, spreading the prints on top of the table to get a better overview of them. God, she couldn’t stand Mark Hoffman.

“You know, “ his voice interrupts the silence “It’s rude to ignore someone.” Looking up from her blueprint of a hand-trap, she meets Mark’s arrogant, smug expression. “Rude? No. Actually ignoring you is a really REALLY blissful experience.” she hums. “Is that so?” the mocking tone in his voice is as prominent as ever “Is it also a blissful experience being a fucking brat all the time?” he snarks.

“I don’t know, tell me about it.” (Y/N) shrugs nonchalantly, grabbing a pen to make some corrective notes on her design. “You’re an insufferable bitch. Maybe Kramer will realise that and kill you off first.” The detective snarks back at her.

“I hope your death will be swift and painful,” he remarks to himself under his breath. “Oh, believe me” (Y/N) retorts as she gathers some mechanical pieces from the shelf behind her. “Nothing could ever be more painful than having to share a workspace with you.” Mark Hoffman’s eyes watch the young woman like a wolf hunting for prey, his fist clenching around the screwdriver in his hand, as his frustration with her builds up. “God you’re infuriating…” He continues working on his contraption and mutters something. “...annoying little slut” being the only words she catches.

Tired of the man’s antics, (Y/N) slams her equipment down onto the table, looking over at Hoffman with fury burning in her eyes. “You're unbelievable, you know that?" (Y/N) seethes, gaze burning into Mark Hoffman's figure. "You can't just go around hurling insults like that and expect me to take it lying down." Hoffman meets her gaze with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Oh, I'm well aware of what I can and can't do," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "But it's not like you make it easy to get along with you, behaving like such a bitch all the time."(Y/N) takes a deep breath, trying to calm her rising anger. She knows that she should just ignore him, focus on her work, and get through this collaboration without any more unnecessary drama. But something about Detective Mark Hoffman just gets under her skin like no one else.

"Look," she says, her tone somewhat calmer but still laced with irritation, "we're stuck here together, whether we like it or not. We both work for Kramer and in doing so we have somewhat of a mutual understanding. Can we at least try and be somewhat civil, so he doesn’t come for our heads?"

Hoffman seems to consider her words for a moment, and then he lets out a begrudging sigh. "Fine," he mutters, finally releasing the screwdriver he'd been clutching. "I suggest you start working on your trap. I don’t want to be around you for much longer." (Y/N) smirks, satisfied that she's at least made a small dent in his armour of arrogance. "Likewise," she replies, turning back to her blueprint and resuming her work. As the tension between the two persists, the air in the dimly lit workshop crackles with a strange energy.

Their exchanges alternate between moments of begrudging cooperation and stinging sarcasm. The attraction they feel toward each other simmers just below the surface, an unspoken truth neither is willing to acknowledge. However, the more they try to fight it, the more it intensifies. It's a dangerous game they're playing, one that could lead to unforeseen consequences.

Hours pass, and the traps they've been designing near completion. Hoffman’s rugged confidence and the air of danger that surrounds him ignite a forbidden curiosity in (Y/N). She can’t help but steal glances at him when she thinks he’s not looking, admiring the way his muscles flex as he handles the tools. His hands move with precision as he assembles the final components, and for a brief moment, she finds herself captivated by his expertise. She despises herself for being attracted to someone so incredibly insufferable.

Hoffman, on the other hand, can't deny the way (Y/N)'s dedication to her work is both impressive and alluring. He's never met anyone who can infuriate him to this extent yet simultaneously arouse his curiosity. Her intelligence and determination draw him in, even as her stubbornness drives him mad, it awakens something deep inside him, something he thought he’d buried long ago. He’s drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Putting the tools in his hands back into the tool box with a loud clang, Hoffman suddenly leans over the table, his voice low and dangerously close to (Y/N)’s ear as he examines her contraption. “You know,” he begins, the low rumble of his voice and the feeling of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine, “you have a way of pushing people’s buttons.”

(Y/N) grits her teeth, trying to ignore the effect his proximity has on her. “I could say the same about you.” she retorts, her voice equally low. Hoffman smirks at that. “I find this never-ending game of cat and mouse rather….exciting.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes. (Y/N) scoffs but can’t deny the truth in his words. “Exciting, huh?” she raises her brow “More like infuriating.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching” he whispers, voice laced with arrogance, lips dangerously close to her ear. “Yeah keep dreaming, Hoffman.” she glares at him, eyes filled with anger and something else she refuses to admit. “This is ridiculous,” Hoffman mutters, this time with a different tone in his voice.

Before (Y/N) can ask what he means, Mark has rounded the table in a sudden urgency, yanking her head towards him by the neck and slamming his lips onto hers in a heated kiss. (Y/N) responds instinctively, her anger melting into desire as their mouths battle for dominance that neither is willing to concede. (Y/N) can feel the edge of the table pressing into her back as Mark traps her beneath his body, making her bend backwards onto the cold metal. The sheer sight of her body trapped beneath his seems to fuel Hoffman’s desire even further, a dark look of hunger in his gaze, as his hand grabs her throat, roughly pushing her down onto the table. His eyes focusing on her chest, as her breasts bounce with the movement. A surprised moan escapes her mouth at the action, her back arching as it gets pressed into the cold metal, making Hoffman’s eyes snap back up at her. “Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your throat.” the dangerously low grumble of his voice making her feel the heat pool in her abdomen, leading her to clench her thighs together. Noticing her arousal Hoffman squeezes her throat a little tighter, whilst his other hand sneaks under her shirt, groping at her breast. “God, you’re such a filthy slut. Coming in here in those tight clothes , showing your curves off to me like an attention whore.” Hoffman’s hand yanks (Y/N)’s shirt up, a low, animalistic grunt leaving his throat as he sees her nipples stiffening through her bra.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” (Y/N) smirks, seeing his the outline of his erection through his pants, she decides to play a dangerous game. Opening her mouth and lowering her jaw a little, she lets her tongue trace over the thumb resting on her jawline as Hoffman’s is still gripping her throat, before sucking on it gently, all the while looking up at him through her lashes. “Fuck.” the detective grunts as his dark gaze watches her mesmerized. Noticing Hoffman’s mesmerized state, (Y/N) dares to make her move, fingers travelling up and down his hand which had previously groped her breast, before swiftly yanking it to the side.

The metallic click echoing through the room, breaks Hoffman out of his daze, furious eyes snapping to his right hand which he now finds to be locked into the trap, (Y/N) had been working on all night long. “You fucking bitch.” he bellows, voice seething with fury. “I’ve decided it’s my turn now” she smirks at the man, sitting up on the table. “Don’t worry.” her voice is low and seductive as she whispers into Hoffman’s ear. “I don’t think it’s fully functioning yet.” she playfully bites his earlobe, before pushing him backwards into the chair behind him. “Your a worthless brat.” he hisses, his free hand trying to pull the other out of the glove-like metal contraption,on the table.

“Hmm.” (Y/N) hums , taking off her shirt painfully slow “Does big bad Hoffman suddenly not like to play games anymore?” Her hand wanders up the trapped arm, before wandering to his chest, as she gets off of the table and straddles the detective’s lap. “And here I thought we were finally having fun working together.” She purposefully rocks her hips, feeling his hardened cock underneath her. Another low growl leaves Hoffman, as his free hand grabs a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back before attacking her exposed neck with his mouth.Sloppy kisses trailing up and down the soft flesh. He singlehandedly opens her bra with expertise, ripping the garment off her body. “I fucking hate you, little brat.” Mark snarls , hungrily sucking one of her breasts into his mouth, twirling her nipple with his tongue, whilst his free arm encircles her waist, holding her against him. “You’re such a bastard, Mark Hoffman.” she moans, hand gripping his hair, as she presses his face further into her chest. With her other hand (Y/N) reaches down to unbuckle his belt, earning a bite from the man.

"Bastard" she repeats again, trying to sound angry but failing miserably as arousal floods her body. She bites her lip as her hand slides into his pants, feeling the size of his erection. Pulling her body from his hungry mouth, (Y/N) slides from his lap, positioning herself on her knees between his legs. Her mouth already watering at the thought of what she is about to do. (Y/N) looks up at Mark’s eyes and smirks, taking control. Slowly, she moves closer, licking and kissing her way down his throbbing shaft. Each gentle touch sending vibrations through her body. As she takes him deeper into her mouth, Mark groans loudly, unable to hold back. His hand clenching the back of her head, desperately wanting more.”Why don’t you use those perfect tits of yours?” Mark grunts out between pants, pulling (Y/N)’s head back a little to look her in the eyes, before his intense gaze follows the string of salvia, running down from her swollen lips onto her chin. Enjoying the feeling of dominance over the detective, (Y/N) doesn't allow him to take over though, pulling out of his grasp suddenly. Leaving him on edge.

“You don’t always get everything you want.” she purrs, leaning back in to lick the length of his erection in a painfully slow manner.

When suddenly Hoffman’s hand forcefully grips her hair again, yanking her head back once more. Mark’s voice is dangerously low as he speaks, leaning down towards her “See, this is where you’re wrong, princess.” The name leaves his mouth in a threatening hiss when suddenly he pulls his trapped hand free and yanks (Y/N) upwards. He had figured out how to escape the trap way earlier, but the sight of his competitor taking him into her mouth tempted him to hang on and play pretend for just a little longer. Enjoying the sight of her trying to dominate him. “Seems as if that little trap of yours does indeed still need improvements. If you behave like a good girl, I might teach you a trick or two.” The detective’s arrogant gaze shamelessly travels up and down her body.

“And why would I behave like a good girl for you?” (Y/N)’s snarl is mixed with arousal as she glares back up at him, feeling the increasing wetness between her thighs as Mark’s eyes roam her naked form. “Because, “ the man shoves a hand between her legs, calloused fingers pushing her panties aside and boldly slipping into her entrance, making the woman let out a strangled moan, “I always get what I want.” he states matter-of-factly, pulling his fingers out of her and examining them. “God, look how fucking wet you are already. You’re such a whore.”

Before (Y/N) can open her mouth for a witty comeback, the detective has already

spun her around and bent over the table. Pinning her wrists on the small of her back. Hoffman wastes no time as he rips her panties off, lining his cock up with her entrance without hesitation. (Y/N)’s breath becomes shaky as she arches her back and pushes her ass up in anticipation, her tits pressing further into the cold metal table. His tip shortly teases her entrance, before he forcefully slams into her. “Fuck, Marks-” she blurts before a filthy moan interrupts her own phrase, as Mark fully pulls out of her dripping cunt only to roughly plunge into her again. All control leaves Mark's body when he hears his name coming from her lips over the wet sounds of her pussy and her lustful moans. His hips slam into hers, and the sound of skin hitting skin fills the cold, dimly lit workshop.

"You always come here thinking you're better than I am or that you can play games with me, but now look at you letting me fuck you completely exposed on a table and not even being able to form coherent sentences because you've never been fucked by a man's cock like you are by mine.” Hoffman's voice sounds almost animalistic next to her ear as he presses into her back, groaning against her skin. (Y/N)’s eyes roll back as her walls flutter around his cock in response to his words, she finds herself at a complete loss for words, overwhelmed and almost drooling by the sensation of the detective burring himself balls-deep into her dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Mark rasps out, beads of sweat rolling down his temples “Do you know how many times I’ve fucked myself to the thought of seeing you all desperate for me like this?”

(Y/N) whimpers as she pushes her hips back into him, enticing another lewd groan from Hoffman. He was still hunched over her back, grunting near her ear, as his cock hits all the deepest spots inside her. “Make me cum, Hoffman.” she breathes, the friction in her cunt becoming almost unbearable. “Only because you behaved so well, princess.” Hoffman husks, straightening himself, his thrusts picking up in pace. “Oh fuck Mark!” (Y/N) cries out in loud ecstasy, her jaw almost going slack as her climax takes over, eyes rolling to the back of her head and knees almost buckling as her body spasms and she continues to moan in sheer pleasure. Mark makes a strangled sound, the sight of (Y/N) cumming with him inside her making his cock throb.

His hand rears back slapping her ass, as her sensitive cunt clenches around him. He keeps ramming into her mercilessly as she rides out her high, murmuring incoherent slurs behind gritted teeth. (Y/N) was sure that her upper body would leave an imprint on the metal table if Mark kept up the force of his thrusts any longer. With a primal grunt and stuttered breath, the detective reaches his climax, thrusts becoming more sloppy as he releases inside her.

For a moment both of them are silently trying to catch their breath before Mark pulls out of (Y/N), smirking at the sight of his cum dripping down her thighs.

The sound of a zipper and belt buckle snaps (Y/N) out of their dizzy state. She straightens up, her eyes wandering over the sweaty print left on the table as a testament to Hoffman's and her little escapade.

Collecting her clothes, she turns to Mark as she begins to dress herself. “This changes nothing.” The man raises a brow at her. “I still hate you.” she states, grabbing a piece of cloth from the shelf behind him to wipe down the table.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a brat like you.” Mark answers nonchalantly as he pulls a screwdriver from the toolbox "Now let me show you how to improve that pathetic trap of yours."

(Y/N) couldn't help but smirk at Mark's retort. As Mark began to work on the trap, he explained his modifications in detail, his hands deftly moving as he made adjustments. The woman watched him intently, despite her attempts to maintain an air of indifference. She couldn’t deny that their rivalry had a strange way of bringing them together.

#detective mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman smut #mark hoffman imagine #saw franchise #saw smut #SAW movies x reader #saw x reader #saw fanfic #mark hoffman fanfic

[gothpossums]

caved in and illustrated my own fic in an attempt to exorcise the image of hoffman in a red dress from my mind (which didn't work unsurprisingly)

#saw #hoffstrahm #dead wife's dress stays on during sex #saw franchise #coffinshipping #mark hoffman #peter strahm #sawposting #horror #saw fanfic #jigsaw #artists on tumblr #tw blood #tw violence #saw movies

[hhhhoffman]

the cure

summary: mark comes home late, drained and dejected. you comfort him with your body.

pairing: mark hoffman x f!reader

word count: 1.2k

rating: explicit, 18+

cw: piv sex, rough, comfort, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, orgasm, creampie (dominant!hoffman)

you can also read this fic on ao3

Mark is wordless when he returns home, his eyes dark, hair unkempt, his entire body visibly beaten down and fatigued.

He's late again.

You don't ask him why, only swiftly stride to him, taking him in your arms as soon as he steps through the door.

You missed him.

The tension in his body seems to lessen when you touch him, and he melts into you, sharing his weight with you. Your skin always seems to soothe him, and in truth it does - so soft and sweet scented from the fancy soaps you use in the shower, so reactive and responsive to him. He considers you a balm to his broken mind and aching heart, anticipates your scent, voice, touch when on his way home to you. 

Craves you, always.

He places a kiss at your neck after holding a moment to relish your embrace, then inhales deeply into your hair. He sighs, then steps back slightly to take a proper look at you. You smile and reach forward, pushing some of his unruly hair away from his handsome face as your gazes meet. His tired eyes gleam in the lowlight, and you frown in concern at this level of exhaustion in him. He shakes his head firmly when he notices your worry. 

So you don't ask. You drop it.

You help him start to undress, still wordless, not needing to speak to understand him and what he needs from you tonight. He shrugs off his coat. You remove his tie with nimble fingers, gently slip his suspenders aside from his shoulders, then unbutton his shirt from collar to hem. You trace your fingertips across the skin now exposed above his undershirt, lightly working your way across the top of his broad chest to the column of his throat. He softly sighs an exhale at your gentle, ghosting touch. 

You cradle his cheek, gaze into his eyes. Reverent and adoring. His large hand covers your own as he breaks the silence. 

"You stayed up."

You nod.

He tuts and gives a slight shake of his head, now fingering the spaghetti strap of your nightshift. He lets it slip and hang down on your upper arm, your skin electric beneath the tenderness of his touch. He steps forward again, and places a soft kiss at your bare shoulder, and you gasp gently, leaning into him. His arm swiftly circles your waist and his kisses on your throat deepen, his lips and tongue and teeth grazing across the sensitive expanse of skin. 

You inhale a sharp moan, one of your hands in his hair, encouraging him closer, the other at his bare back. He grunts as his hands slip to your ass and squeeze at you through the sheer material of your shift. You feel his hardening erection rubbing into you through his pants, and a jolt of hot desire shoots through your core. 

You want him. Badly. 

"Mark," you groan, his fingers now beneath your night shift, massaging your flesh. "Take me, have me. Use me. Please."

He chuckles into your throat. "So needy."

Then one of his hands is in your hair, pulling your head back with a yank so he can look at your face. "So good to me." 

The corners of your lips pull into a smile, which he pecks gently before turning you around and bending you over - holding you down against a waist-high storage cupboard. One of his hands is grasping your arm to your lower back tightly, and you can hear him use the other as he undoes his belt with a metallic click, then frees himself from his pants. 

He spreads your legs and hoicks up your shift, exposing your wet, aching slickness to the air. He seems to move so slowly, and you need him now, and you whimper your complaints to him. He aligns himself with you, and teases the head of his cock against your hot, throbbing clit, then returns to your entrance. 

"How badly do you want me, baby...?" He asks breathily, his words rich with carnal desire, yet unable to resist making you beg for him. 

"I need you. I need you, Mark, please..." 

Then it's too much for him to resist, and he's slipping inside of you, your arousal so rich with wetness that he sheathes himself deep inside easily. You both groan with relief, and then after a brief pause, he begins to fuck you. 

His rhythm is steady at first, his pace quickening with every thrust, and you whimper at his sweet pounding, so glorious and blissful inside of you. He continues to hold you down as he moves in and out of your cunt, and you mewl and whine, spreading your legs as much as you can, arching into him to take him as deeply as possible. 

"My good girl," he praises you, his breathing laboured from his exertions, his pace unrelenting and his strength increasing. "You can take it for me, my sweet girl."

You encourage him with your moans, loud gratified whines that he fucks out of you, his grip on you unyielding, his own groans of pleasure from behind you almost as decadent as the feel of him fucking you. He's vocal tonight, clearly taking out whatever is bothering him on you, and you do take it, you can take it. It feels fucking incredible to take it. 

Time bleeds away as you feel that tightening sensation flourish deep inside, that hot pleasure beginning to pool in your lower back with each furious pound of his cock. It builds and builds, the tension an ever-growing carnal torment, and you cry out in bliss as you near your peak.

He grunts as he feels you tighten around him, then gives you his all: pounding you so hard and fast and good until that tension snaps and you cum hard, as hard as he is thrusting into you, powerful and gorgeous and strong.

Your form melts, limber and passive, your body orgasm-struck beneath him. He pauses in his rhythm but continues to hold you still, and you feel his fingers in your hair, grazing tenderly and with care down the clamminess of the back of your neck. Affectionate. You can hear his heavy breathing, and a deep groan of satisfaction.

"That's my girl," he praises, his tone thick with both pride and desire, his own need to be sated spiking, and he begins to move again, and it feels so good and hot and perfect as he restarts his rhythm, fucking you from behind once more.

He uses you, takes his time and his pleasure with you, until your sweet skin and tight heat cure him of all his anguish, until you are all he can see and feel and experience, and when your hot flesh stokes his lust to it's peak and he finishes inside of you with a possessive groan, he softly collapses on top of you - his comforting weight a gratifying heaviness. His lips are in your hair, on your cheek, finding your lips.

"Beautiful," he mutters into your skin, "perfect girl."

He then pulls you to your feet, sweeps you into his arms and carries you to bed, where you spend the rest of the night curled up beside him, his arms around you, your head on his chest, his soft breath on your face, the woody scent of his cologne lingering in your dreams.

-

#mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman fanfiction #mark hoffman fanfic #mark hoffman fic #mark hoffman x you #saw fic #saw fanfic #saw fanfiction #costas mandylor #my writing #hhhhoffman #detective hoffman #detective hoffman fanfiction #hoffman fic #hoffman #hoffman fanfic #hoffman fanfiction

[mrkheartffmans]

part two of the last lil drabble i HAD to elaborate...

mdni 18+ fem!reader x kinda dark!adam stanheight

she's blk but feel free to read if you aren't tho &lt;3

content warning: somno!! dubious consent, perv!adam, masturbation, groping, oral, fingering, panty sniffing fuuuuck, half-dressed reader

adam feeling the reader up in her sleep after she let him the night before.

adam just couldn't get enough...

the feeling of squeezing your breasts had him on top of the world. your soft squishy mounds conforming perfectly under his grasp. that night he retreated back to his bedroom... his hands were wrapped around his cock stroking so feverishly thinking about your blushing face looking up at him. all the little whimpers that escaped your lips had him shooting thick ropes cum over his knuckles.

"fuck..." he thought to himself. he wanted more

you were sleeping so prettily a couple hours later in your bed. wearing your sleep shirt that now smells like him and you didn't mind one bit. adam cracked your door a little bit peeking in, eyeing your sleeping form. your shirt was slightly hiked up your soft tummy exposing your panty clad pussy to him. every part of you is so delicious to him and seeing you like this made it no better.

he quietly made his way over to you admiring your beauty it seemed to be even stronger as you slept. he could feel himself hardening in his sweats watching your chest rise and fall. he noticed that your nipples were hard now! while you sleep they're still the stiff little buds he remembers passing his thumbs over earlier.

inching closer to you he leans down to your face making sure you're sound asleep. soft breaths escaping your plump lips, his eyes scan your blushing face slightly damp from your moisturizer you applied before bed. adam smells your sweet strawberry soap you bathed with its scent infiltrates his thoughts replacing them with you and only you™️. he also takes in your natural scent. the warm oat and sweat from your room being a tiny bit too warm from the space heater nearby.

"just a little more won't hurt will it?" he convinces himself while looking at your cute pussy. it's so fat and juicy that your panties barely can hold your cunnie in them. he leans down and gently sniffs your cunt exhaling deeply when it hits the back of his throat. he almost gets the idea to lick you through your panties but he saves that for another time. he brings his hands to your soft chest again, this time feeling your ribcage covered by its layer of fat. slowly savoring your minor expressions shifting under his touch.

you gently stir in your sleep whimpering not yet fully awake. hands travelling north he lifts your shirt completely over your chest now, not able to take it anymore. he ogles at the sweet pillowy soft breasts before him. nipples immedoately hardening from the change in temperature. so cute and sensitive all for him !! that dumb draft near your bedroom window is to blame... or is it?

"she can't be this oblivious..." he whispers still kneading at your mounds. maybe you heard him because now your eyes are itching to be opened by the ticklish feeling you were dreaming about. but you quickly find out in reality you're not being tickled at all. your tired eyes find your roomate over you with a handful of you in his palms. "oh, adam? w-what'r you doin'?" you whimper in confusion. your heart hammered violently against your chest eyes stinging with tears threatening to fall.

you didn't want it to go THIS far. but the way he's touching you right now has your thighs pressing together. his cock was aching and throbbing in his sweatpants at this point. "adam please s-stop m'sleeping." your weak protests subtly changing into hushed whines. "there there princess you know this feels good, now doesn't it?" adam whispers to you. you couldn't deny it at all... how he's squeezing and touching all on your body.

adam raises your shirt above your breasts leaning in closer to you, nearly being able to feel your heart beat through your chest. "you're so soft cutie, you know i couldn't stop thinking about this since earlier?" with that he has one of your nipples between his teeth, biting firmly on the tender bud. kissing down your ribs, licking all over your tummy, he finds himself over your panties. teasing you by slapping the band against your skin.

his fingers trace patterns over your covered clit that's now swollen. cupping your entire pussy with his warm hand grinding his palm into you. your hips stutter against his touches chasing the pleasure. "i thought you said you were sleepy, peach?" he grins using his once innocent nickname as a descriptor for your wet cunt he's smushing around with his hands.

"please, a-adam do something." you pathetically whine to him. he hooks a finger inside your panties pulling them to the side exposing the wet mess youv'e been making. the cool air hitting your most sensitive place is making your head reel. "m'gonna jus-." is all you hear before his tongue is flicking back and forth against your clit. your hands immediately fly to his hair, holding him in place where you need him most.

"you're such a dirty little girl, letting your roomate eat your pussy like this." he moans pushing his index and middle fingers into you. twisting his knuckles at just the riiiiiight angle making you see stars and all that happy shit. he switches between rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb while tonguing your hole and licking broad strips upward.... then back down.

OKAY I'M DONE I'M SERIOUS SOMEONE TAKE MY PHONE now i admit it... i'm NOT NORMAL about him

#adam stanheight #saw 2004 #adam stanheight x reader #black!fem!reader #saw fanfic #m x f #adam stanheight smut #adam faulkner stanheight x black!reader #adam faulkner stanheight #saw x #saw franchise #saw fandom #saw movies

[fantasynsuch]

Adam Stanheight SFW + NSFW headcanons

REQUESTS FOR SAW OPEN!

2.3k words

Sfw

How you meet!

you two meet probably in the hallway of your crappy apartment complex.

you run into him from the corner, he had his headphones in and was listening to it on full volume, and you were running late for work

crashing head first into neighbor? you dick he probably thinks to himself as he realizes he just ran into his neighbor.

he'd seen you around before: mostly rushing to whatever crappy retail job of the month you had

he had thought you were really beautiful, but he was a coward at heart, so never did anything about it

this time he didn't have the choice to not interact with you: well, without looking like a dick

"I am SO sorry. I'm such a dumbass." He rushes out before he can think

Youre still kinda in a little bit of shock, so you just look up at this incredibly handsome man who just face planted into you for a long while

he thinks your silence is you rejecting his apologies and he quietly apologizes and runs off

but you just were so enamored by him that you couldn't say anything

at work all you can think about is how you didn't accept his apologies and probably made him feel horrible

you were determined to make things right so after work you grab a couple packs of the smokes you always saw him with from the store and rush to his apartment

you timidly knock on his door and wait with bated breath

he sees you through the peephole and momentarily considers not answering it

but he sees the bag you have in your hand and is curious

he opens it, fully expecting to be yelled at for running into you

but all that happens is you raise the bag up quickly and say "i'm so sorry i didn't say anything, i feel so bad. i just was in shock because you're s-" you stop and say nothing after realizing your rambling

he looks in the bag and notices the smokes

you smile at him shyly

and that starts a beautiful relation

how you are as friends

you stay over ALOT

he tends to not eat the best so you make him alot of dinners and lunches to make sure he's eating regularly

his work as a professional stalker keeps him up at odd hours so those pre made meals are rlly a life saver

buying each other candy and snacks alot

when the other was having a rough month fiancially, you would try to pick up the slack andhelp them

that means buying the other small groceries and items to get them through till the next check

you stay over sm the other has toiletries like tooth brushes n soap at the others place

going to parties together but only talking to one another bc ur both not super extroverted

you just go for the free alcohol

speaking of which,,, taking care of each other when the other is drunk

he holds ur hair when ur sick in the toilet,

you rub his back when he's sick

when the other is actually ill as in cold or the flu, bringing each other soup n montioring each others temp

making sure the other takes their meds to get better

inevitably the other gets sick with the same thing, but it just ends up the same way with the other taking care of u

leaving notes in his mail slot when he's busy, and since its 2004, no fast messaging so "coming over at 5!! xoxo" in his mail slot

he lives kinda like a typical man with basically only a chair and essentials , bare ass living room

taking him to the thrift store to get like a decent couch n maybe an arm chair

helping him expand his wardrope to something beyond crappy second hand flannel n white shirt (preferably without blood on it)

helping him get through his trauma over the trap

you cant exactly help him get over it, but ur there when he has bad moments

holding him while he sobs in ur lap

just stroking his hair n reminding him hes here n not at the god awful bathroom

it really calms him down and reminds him he is present in this moment, not that one

he sometimes gets insecure about his scar on his shoulder and tries to hid it but you remind him that he shouldnt be embarassed for being strong enough to survive

helping him get back into normal non stalkery photographer- his need to make money to live kinda outweighed his desire to just take pics of birds

speaking of which: he def loves nature photography

he lives in new jersey, so its rare he gets to do that, but its a nice treat

road trips with him n he spends the whole time as a passenger princess asking you to stop n take pics of a dead tree that has a rlllly nice backdrop

ur crappy car probably breaks down once or twice but its part of the adventure

In a relationship

kisses. lot of f'ing kisses

neck kisses, forehead kisses, navel kisses. any types!

probably is the little spoon lbr

follows ur lead for the most part

want to go to the theatre? it may take out half his money but he WILL pay for the date

probably gets u sweet treats alot n writes a little note that says "love you babe!"

he def clings to you everywhere u go

got to go to the kitche? catch him hugging u from behind n not letting go

can't fall asleep without each other anymore

he used to have a twin sized mattress but he decided to buy a full after u moved intogether

speaking of which, he definitely moved into your apartment

you have a two bedroom n that allows him to have a red room for his photography and a bedroom

he probably only had a redroom and slept on the couch at his apartment tbh

typical man

very clean n likes to take showers with you

his fav thing is his hair being washed by you

the scraping on his scalp is incredibily grounding

he loves washing you as well, and not in a sexual way.

theres something so domestic about cleaning each other that he loves.

ultimately i think his interactions with cheating rich men has spoiled a bit of his view of marriage, but with you he really can see himself settling down and being a forever thing. beyond everything, he trusts you

he craves domesticity so he will enjoy providing for you and helping with the house

loves to cook, his mom probably taught him

doesn't really have a jealousy problem, though he can get jealous from time to time

very rare, but if he does, there might actually be a substantiated reason

doesn't want kids atm, as he can barely support himself and you.

waiting up for you to get home no matter how tired he is

wants to make sure you're home safe

rlly co dependent directly following the trap. can't be in the bathroom by myself, it reminds him too much of the trap. he needs you to be in the room with you while you speak to him through the curtain, or even better, being in the shower with you.

needs constant reassurance he isnt a burden on you

he feels like you don't deserve to be with a man who has so many problems

you tell him constantly that you will be there no matter what

holding hands just to remind him of your presence.

calms him down alot more than you expect

if you happen to be late getting home from work, he may partially freak out: thinking you left him finally

you'll find him sobbing on the couch curled in on himself

he's so vulnerable after lawrence left him there

he doesn't know that lawrence didn't break his promise intentionally so he holds alot of resentment for him

kissing his cheeks and telling him you'll never leave

onto more happy things:

MOVIE NIGHTS!!! you religiously watch movies together and spend most of the time talking about the stupidity of the characters or something.

never meeting his parents bc he's not on good terms with them

LOVES THAT YOURE ABOUT HIS HEIGHT, he's not a tall man and has never been insecure about his height, but the fact he's eye level with you makes it extremely intimate in his opinion

or if you're taller than him, his man brain goes ooga booga and thinks "tall woman/man" and all bets are off

NSFW

okay, to go ahead and put this glaringly obvious thing out there: HE HAS A THING FOR BEING A SUB!!!

He needs you to take control and tell him what to do

grab him by his hair and shove him in between your legs? yes ma'am

ask him to kneel and eat you out on a hardwood floor? done

he absolutely would do anything for you

he needs reassurance what he's doing is good: and rest assured, it is

he probably is a bit messy, and not very controlled

sloppy licks and desperate sucks are common

same thing for when he's inside you

ragged thrusts and a desperate pace

hes probably desperate bc you havent let him cum the whole session

his cock is probably a bit under average length wise, but good god is his girth something to marvel at

everytime he takes you he stretches you

very skinny man, and once you get your claws into him, he probably gains weight which gives him a cute bit of chub that you love to grab onto while he's thrusting into your hole haphazardly.

its almost like a leash

he absolutely needs direction the first couple times, hes so nervous he's shaking

you ask if he wants to keep going and he nods quickly n says theres nothing he's ever wanted more, but assuming this is following the trap, he absolutely needs someone to tell him what to do

could definitely get off from watching you cum (it's def happened before, his poor red cock hadn't been touched all night beyond the grinding on the bed he's hidden from you while eating you out and seeing your intense pleasure just,, he couldn't hold on anymore)

probably circumcised with a tasteful amount of hair, enough to be cute but not enough to be annoying

his nipples are probably so sensitive and he doesnt even know it, he's never thought to play with them

the first time you brush them he gasps and leaks precum

from then on they become a regular part of your routine when playing with him

PLEASE CALL HIM A GOOD BOY!!!

the first time you do, his head is thrown back in ecstasy from your mouth on his cock, and when you pull up, you tell him to look at you while still stroking his cock, and you say "youre my good boy. cum for me my baby boy."

he immediately cums and is embarrassed for weeks, even with your reassurance that it was the hottest thing you've ever seen

speaking of head, he loves getting it but he absolutely enjoys giving it more

theres something so sexy about being able to lick you to completion

when he gets head, he's so lost in his own pleasure that he forgets to breathe and when he remembers, he takes deep breaths

is so in love with your body

he thinks your the hottest person he's ever seen

would probably want to call you mistress or momma. i dont make the rules

RIDE HIM RN

he loves when you're on top, it makes him feel so helpless

alright so: he definitely wants you to peg him

grip his hands and place them above his head, and shove his head into the mattress

anything

his fav position is with his ass up in the air with his head shoved in a pillow and his cock hanging pitifully untouched. shove your strap into his ass while he begs you to make him cum

grab his face and kiss him while he wails out from the pleasure

shove your tongue down his throat,,, something!!

IN THE ODD OCCASION HE IS FEELING DOMINANT!!

rare

but it happens

he isn't some hard dom who leaves you bruised up

he will take care of you just like he does when he's subbing, but he won't let you order him around

grabs your neck and just holds. not enough to prevent you breathing, but enough for you to know its there

still sloppy either way

with him, aftercare is a must

thing is: you can't leave him alone after he's finished subbing, as it sparks some trigger that brings him back to the bathroom, where, in his mind, lawrence left him to die

you have to take him with you

you found out after he cries out and practically tackles you begging you to not leave and to stay with him and to not abandon him

its alot of rambling, but once you get him to calm down, he is pretty embarrassed, but you understand

you tell him to get up and hold his hand, or hug, while walking to the bathroom

wiping a rag on his oversensitive cock to clean it and seeing his face scrunch up is ur fav thing

you might make him eat his cum out of you to clean you up, but it just depends on how he feels. and it might start up a whole nother round so its a gamble

he probably doesn't fall asleep immediately afterward, and will stay there stroking your hair while you sleep to remind himself you're there, you aren't leaving and you love him

LOTS OF LOVE YOU'S DURING AND AFTER!!

something about you telling him you love him does something: it might be from him feeling useless and like a burden

when he finally sleeps, he's the little spoon and he whispers a quick,"thank you"before nodding off

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!! I LOVE ADAM AND SAW AND AND pLS REQUEST SOMETHING!!

#adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight angst #adam stanheight fanart #adam stanheight imagine #saw fanfic #adam stanheight x reader #adam stanheight x you #saw x reader #dr lawrence gordon #saw #adam faulkner x reader #adam saw #adam stanheight #adam faulkner

[whore4hotdilfs]

Something New.

prompt : You tell Mark you feel bored with your sex life during an argument. He shows you why you should never speak down on him again.

warnings : 18+ audiences. Degrading. Dom!Mark Hoffman x sub!reader. Slight edging. Daddy kink. Age gap relationship. Power dynamics. Restraints. Hair pulling. Face-slapping. Subspace is implied. Aftercare, it gets softer at the end I promise he’s not a bastard in this one after. Victim play mentioned like once. Cursing. Use of the word cunt and cock when referring to parts. Porn without plot almost. Haven’t written smut in months, bare with me. Breeding. Alludes to squirting.

‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿

You really didn’t know exactly what had gotten yourself to this point. Didn’t know what possessed you to let such an insult slip past your mouth, even if deep down you knew you meant it. But god, you wished you didn’t. Your words got you here, your arms sealed into a knot tied to each bedpost, legs spread open and bound to stay that way, no Mark in sight.

You had no idea how long it had been until you noticed a familiar frame loom in the doorway, arms tight against his chest as a menacing chuckle escaped his lips.

“You really thought you could doubt me and get away with it, hm?” His voice is rasp. Deep. Just enough for his words to hit you in ways that it should’ve, enough to draw his point across. You didn’t answer, just looked in his direction, your eyes sparkling in fear of what he had planned to put you through.

It’s not long before he deeply sighs at the lack of any sign of response or acknowledgement of his presence, making his way over to your tortured form, a light slap stinging your cheeks. You gasp in response finally, his strong hand gripping your chin and forcing your eyes to peer up at him.

“Fucking look at me while I’m talking to you.” He spits venom from his lips, his eyes are a slick black, his pupils expanded to its max in a look that could never be mistaken as anything other than a desired hunger. He creates a stronger grip onto your jaw, shaking his head in faux disbelief at your actions. He pulls your face closer to him, his knees bent down in a laced mocking tone, as if you were nothing but a victim in that moment. “Speak when you’re spoken to, slut. We don’t have all day.”

You swallowed your pride, letting yourself morph into your permanent role. Nodding your head slowly and winced as his grip got impossibly tighter on your jaw.

“No. Use your fucking words. You can’t be that stupid.”

You could’ve sunk into a puddle of desire and need right there, practically leaking against the sheer fabric of the only material that was clung to your body. You had never seen this side before and while you were more than grateful that you managed to force this state out of him, you were all the more frightened that you pushed him to the point of no return when it came to your sex-life.

You finally brighten up the courage to open your silken lips, searching his eyes for any sign of your boyfriend’s caring nature when it came to you, but your search returned with nothing of the sorts. You swallow down a gulp that you were sure could’ve been heard due to the crisp environment.

“Yes.. daddy.” You hesitate. Not sure that that would’ve been the appropriate response. You knew that Mark had always been hesitant when it came to going out in public with you, he always thought he looked a bit too old to be with you, like a creep. But here he was in the same breath and the same mind, acting as if he was a dangerous predator stalking his prey.

Your words elicit a throated growl, black eyes continuing to peer down at you in your helpless position. He lets go of your jaw finally, letting your head fall roughly back onto the pillow without a care in his being. He himself probably had no idea in the slightest as to why he’s okay with being called daddy when he was already insecure in himself for snatching you up while he could. Maybe it was the way that anything sounded pretty coming from his angel, he’s sure that was it.

He pats your face as your reward, rubbing the soft flesh where his slip still lingered upon your face his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “Sorry, my angel.” He mouths down at you. You could tell he looked hesitant to continue seeing the handprint he left upon you but one look at your current state makes his gaze harden to its past form.

He starts to nonchalantly hum against the shell of your ear, his hand slowly making its way down your body. His pace was constant though, hand pressing firm onto your skin as he traces your helpless body. He stops once he gets close to your abdomen, smirk resting along the corner of his lips as his hand resumed slipping under the restraining lace fabric before ripping the flimsy material down the middle. His finger immediately hooks itself onto your wetness, slipping down to collect some on his finger, trailing his finger up your body again and forced it past your eager lips.

He doesn’t have to tell you what to do, you’ve seen too much of this move from him to know that you shouldn’t ignore it or freeze up when he presents himself. You wrap your lips desperately around the slick digit, using your tongue to sink it deeper into your mouth down to his knuckle.

“Fuck. You’re such a messy whore.” He belts out, his other hand swiftly taking his belt out of the confined loops, rushing his jeans past his ankles, kicking them off before his boxers fell swiftly behind. “All mine.” He grits his teeth, keeping himself tight-lipped.

He almost rips his finger from your mouth, moving slowly to crawl onto the bed and loomed over your smaller frame, sitting up on his knees as he admired you all spread out for him. He knew it would have been possible to keep your legs open for him, he naturally had that effect on you he caught on, but he figured the nature of learning a lesson would’ve been so much better and to his benefit.

You stare up at him, your doe eyes sparkling with faux innocence as he tangled his fingers through your hair, gripping onto a healthy amount of your hair with a deep smirk. He knew he had every and all control of you and your body he already couldn’t get enough of, he was fully up to taking advantage of this one moment. He rubs his tip against your cunt, groaning at the feeling of you still being wet, maybe even more than before. You shifted against your restraints, trying to buck up your hips in a desperate attempt to force him to slip inside, your actions answered with a grip on one of your hips to force you back down against the bed.

“I set the pace, not you. Understood?”

He didn’t give you much time to answer, he didn’t need one to the question anyways, he was setting the pace of the night rather you’d like it or not. He was the one that gave permission, not you.

It didn’t take him longer to give into you, though. Maybe it was a combination of how you already looked disheveled below him and those pretty eyes of yours but he could never say no to you even for a second. He forces his length inside of your aching cunt in one swift motion, wetness covering and enveloping around him. He possessively growls once more at your heat as a lethal result.

“Always fit me so well, don’t you? Like my own personal slut.” He grits his teeth and keeps his eyes locked on yours from below, nonverbally forcing you to keep contact. You wouldn’t dare break such a thing anyways, especially if he acted like this when provoked.

“Daddy.. please move. Need you.” You whimper into the air, hands pulling against your restraints once more in an overwhelming urge to rest your hands on his back to pull him closer to your body. You always needed to touch the few times you have had sex, he knew that. He knew you itched, yearned to use any way you could to get what you wanted. Suppose that that’s why the permanent smirk on his lips spreads to a motion that’s unrecognizable.

He hums in a mocking tone, tsking at the desperation leaking out of your every pore. “I said.” He starts in a low voice, whisking at your restraints to press them harder against your wrists, you whimper at his movements, eyes flickering to his cold ones.

“I set.” He pulls himself all the way out and shoves every inch back in.

“The fucking.” Harder.

“Pace.” The last word rumbles around near the bottom of his throat, his body leaning down so his mouth was leveled near your ear, causing him to curl deeper inside of you as he snapped each thrust.

“Behave, doll.” He whispers soft against your ear, pulling your weightless body right up against him. He starts to thrust into your tight walls faster, watching in amazement at how you took him so well every single time, mesmerized by the way your cunt practically swallows him whole.

He drinks in your noises from below him, every tiny purr begs him to just go faster until his pace is near brutality. You had no choice but to take it all, desperately needing to snap your legs shit due to the friction. You had always been sensitive when it came to any form of sex with Mark, he knew exactly how to reach you to that point in a matter of seconds, with just one touch you melted in his hands, every single time. If he was honest, it’s what kept his energy so high when it came to doing anything sexual for his most prized possession.

His thumb trails down your sides to press against your throbbed clit, rubbing circles that matched with the motion of his thrusts the faster he became. Your back arches off the mattress and a high-pitched gasp tears from your lips when he hits just where you need him to, squeezing onto his cock as your body depended on his touch to survive. He drinks the angelic sight and this time lets your hips buck on their own to push back onto him and match every one of his thrusts.

He can read your mind and movements in a matter of seconds, hissing at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him. He tried to regain his composure but he can’t control how he bottoms out right there at the feeling of your warmness.

His hand wraps around your throat with a strong force in his haste to get himself back under his own control, squeezing around your neck but still careful not to bruise you quite yet.

“Hold it. You don’t cum until I do.”

You nod frantically at his demanding words, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to keep your focus on anything other than his movements. The obscene sounds of your slick echoing at each and every thrust. His rasped groans spitting from his chest as he picks up his pace for the final time. You can tell he’s brought himself closer to the edge, using you as nothing but his own personal toy as he ruts in and out of you.

Your mind is numb at this point the more that you’re forced to hold yourself in, your hands folding into fists. Nails digging into your skin and coloring your knuckles white. Your skin is a shade lighter, your mind beginning to float away as your body slips more into a stiff-like state, like a rag doll at his disposal.

“That’s it. That’s it. So good for me. Fuck.” He rambles out nonsense, words fuzzy and sounded faint as soon as the vibrations manage to hit your ears, eyes rolling back into your head at the pressure.

Lucky for your state, it isn’t a long wait until you feel him tense, hands flying to your small hips to keep him fully inside of you, the feeling of hot painting inside of you in slow strokes. Your body gives out fully before you even have a chance to free yourself with a right mind, letting yourself go with a shake to your thighs.

Mark watches with attentive eyes, in awe at your body as it reacts in a way he’s never seen before. Your eyes are glued shut, nose scrunched up at your release. He pulls himself out of you to see the whole show, your thighs continuing to shake and your hips bucking up to chase a high that far washed over you by now. He knows what is happening, he isn’t that oblivious to think that you’re fully down to earth with him, he actually researched before he actually got rougher.

He didn’t bother bringing you down from your space just yet, he read that it was best to keep you floated for a few minutes after and not tear you down off your faux reality yet. Instead, he just preens at his pretty little angel who did so good for him, undoing the hooks around your leather cuffs, his other hand catching your elbow so your arms wouldn’t snap back to your sides. Next is your leg restraint when your thighs have finally calmed down, a swift motion throwing them to the floor.

After a few long minutes of waiting, watching closely to make sure you were okay, your eyelashes flutter opened as you look up at him with wonder. Memories rush back to your mind of the night at hand but he left you barely any time to remanence before he wraps his arms around your hips and collapsed on the side beside you on the bed.

He pulls you towards his bare chest, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along the skin of your inner thighs, just where you wouldn’t be sensitive from the motion.

“Next time, let’s not question my abilities, baby doll.”

Your silence after his words is enough to celebrate his small victory.

‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿‿‿‿ ‿

a/n: repost repost come get your repost. i hope it isn’t too weird, first time writing smut in a long while :)

#mark hoffman smut #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #costas mandylor #saw x reader #slasher x reader #detective hoffman #sawposting #saw x #saw #saw fanfic #mark hoffman imagine

[sawtastic-sideblog]

Adam has a habit of smacking Lawrence's ass. Before they got together Adam would do it all the time. Lawrence finally had enough and pinned Adam against the wall to confront him but ends up with his tongue down his throat instead in this essay I will...

#adam talks #saw franchise #saw 2004 #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #saw fanfic #chainshipping

[lightofthemoonglow]

kinktober day thirteen and fourteen

Menophilia | Size Difference | Heartbeat

Armpit | Orgasm Denial | Cloning & Selfcest

Peter Strahm

note: third person reader. ambiguous/weird timeline, set nowhere and everywhere in the movies he's in. written by someone with a brain addled by covid. i literally sat down and started writing and didn't stop until i was done. never written him before and yet this happened. And now there's a prequel here

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. I’m so close…”

She throws her head back, her hands reaching up to grip his shoulders. Ragged nails dig into his skin and Strahm lets out a groan as she locks her legs around him. He looks between their bodies, taking in the sight of her naked body against his still clothed one. He had come to see her only because he had been ordered to leave the office. you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here. And despite himself, her apartment is a place of refuge.

Strahm had rung her doorbell and she had answered with a bottle of beer and a knowing look on her sweet face. It was as if she knew what he needed. Literally the girl the next door. Though she would say that she was a little too old to be called a girl. But she was still younger than him, noticeably so. It’s fucked up, he knows it, but at least she’s not young enough to his daughter. And for a moment, he thinks of Kramer, who had once been the older guy with a pretty, younger wife and he wonders how it had worked during the middle, before whatever fucked up shit had happened to pull them apart.

She’s smaller than him. He can easily grab her wrists in one hand, pin them above her head, hold her down with just the weight of his body. Which he does, as if to prove it to himself and only himself. She’s tight, wet, mewling and thrashing under him as she cries out that she’s going to come again and he pulls out, making her squeal in protest.

“Be patient,” he growls and turns her over because he can’t look at her. Not when he’s thinking about Kramer and those traps. He can’t stop thinking about that sweet face twisted in terror as some sort of slapped together piece of shit tears at her. But she’d survive it, she would have to because he’s gotten too fucking attached to his neighbor and a part of him hates it.

But he likes, maybe even loves this part. The part where he slowly slides into her, covering her body with his as his cock makes her grasp and whine, raising her hips for more. She sounds so sweet as she begs for more, turning her head so she can look at him, even if it’s only a little better than if she was glancing out of the corner of her eye. “Fuck, Peter,” she gasps, his hand going to her breast to roll a nipple between his fingers. “Can I come?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, still pounding her like their lives depend on it. “Be a good girl for me, baby. Come.” And she does, distracting them both from the pet name and what it could mean. They could unpack all of that later, after they’re done screwing their brains out.

#peter strahm x reader #strahm x reader #slasher x reader #kinktober 2023 #saw imagine #saw fanfic #slasher imagines

[chubmle2]

UH OH UH OH FUCK WERE FUCKED EVERYONE LEIGH FOUND THEM…SCATTER‼️‼️‼️‼️

#saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw movies #saw fanart #saw films #saw fandom #saw fanfic #saw fanfiction #we are so done oh my god

[coryosbaby]

Sleepy

Fandom: “Saw”

Pairing: Dom! Mark Hoffman x bimbo! Reader

Synopsis: On Friday nights, Mark comes to your apartment.

Cw: established relationship, age gap, nsfw . Rough sex, spanking, oral (m recieving), anal fingering (f recieving), creampie, cum play, breeding

It starts innocent— Mark, your beautiful and slightly sadistic hard working boyfriend, slides under your ruffled pink sheets. Although you haven’t moved in with each other quite yet, it’s not uncommon for the man to let himself inside your apartment on friday evenings. Cool air against the bare skin of your ankles gives way to Mark’s warm touch, his big hands wrapping around your calves, stroking the soft muscle there. Your eyes flutter at the sensation. You had fallen asleep waiting up for him, but you could recognize his touch even in slumber.

“Mark?” You murmur. Your sleepy eyes look up at him with a doe expression, and Mark thinks you’re completely gorgeous like this.

“Mhm.”

You lift yourself up, smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck. His smell— cologne, laundry detergent, a scent of something herbal— invades your senses. You breathe it in gratefully, thankful that Mark has come home safe and unharmed. Fingers in his hair, you pull him on top of you. A small chuckle emits from the man’s chest, his hand going down to your waist and his other wrapping around your neck in a sort of non threatening chokehold. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip. You nick at it teasingly with the tip of your tongue.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart.” Mark coos. You push up against him, the pink two piece pajama set adorning your body rubbing against the fabric of his pants. He lets out a little breath when your hand moves against the outline of his cock.

“Missed you, daddy.”

“You talkin’ to me?” He says, as his fingers dip into the waistband of your juicy couture shorts. “Or are you talkin’ to my dick?”

“Both.”

His fingers rub up against your slit, the wetness seeping through your pretty pink thong. At the feeling of the fabric touching his fingertips Marks out a growl.

“Were you waiting up for me?”

A nod. And then, spilling roughly from his lips, “Naughty fucking girl.”

His mouth crashes to yours, hot and heavy and aching with lust. It’s been only a few days since he’s saw you, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to pummel your guts like it’s been a year.

Your tongue slips into his mouth eagerly, feeling up the whites of his teeth. His fingers rub harsh circles into your clit and your hands go to the sleeves of his work suit.

“Off,” you whine to him. “Want all your clothes off.”

“I know, honey, I know.” he chants, as you thrust against the hardening bulge in between his legs. He slips off his coat, then begins to undo his tie. His chest is exposed to you as he unbuttons his shirt. Beautiful and muscled, with a bit of softness along the bottom of his tummy, he’s the most perfect man you’ve ever seen.

You bring yourself up to kiss his chest— then his shoulders, his pecks, grazing along his nipples and nibbling softly, making him let out a heavy groan. Then you move down to his lower belly and nuzzle your face into the skin there.

“Enjoying yourself?” Mark muses, as you wrap your arms around his waist. You’ve missed him so much.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply sweetly. You toy with his belt for a moment, rubbing your thumbs against the buckle. “Wanna suck you…”

“Get to it then, angel.”

Hands grasping the leather, you pull it from the loops. His pants button comes undone next, and then the zipper. The tight black briefs are now the only thing keeping you from your most prized possession.

You lean down and nuzzle your face against him again, only now on his thighs. He’s so hard, practically throbbing as he watches your eyelashes flutter shut and your mouth run over his aching, clothed shaft. Drool practically leaks out of the corners of your mouth as you taste him through the fabric. You look up to see Mark’s bottom lip caught between his teeth, his eyes looking down at you with a predatory stare.

Your fingers grip his waistband. You pull it down until his aching prick springs free, slapping against his stomach and dripping with arousal. You take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He groans, heavy, balls clenching up. He has so much cum to give your sweet cunt.

“Good girl, baby,” he praises, when you sink your lips down to his base. You choke a bit, but that doesn’t stop you from going so far down that the dark hair at his base is used as a pillow for your nose and lips. He always asks if it bothers you, and it doesn’t. Quite the contrary, in fact. You breathe him in and something deep and primal stabs into your guts— much like his girthy length. You move up and down, up and down, making sure to palm what you can’t take in your small hands, making sure to make the man you practically devote yourself to feel the best he can possibly feel.

And by the sounds he’s making, you seem to be doing a good job. Grunts, groans, and the occasional whimper escape from Mark’s plump lips, his head throwing itself back in ecstasy.

You can tell he’s close by the way his thighs begin to shake and quiver. You pull off of him, quick to leave one more little kiss to his cock before kissing him harshly on the mouth once again. He groans into you, grabbing your hair with a harsh grip. He turns your body over and pulls your ass up to him. Too impatient, he decides to just pull your shorts down and push your panties to the side. He slaps his cock against your clit, once, twice, making you mewl.

“Whose pussy is this?” He asks gruffly. You cry out, cunt trying to suck the tip of him as it runs along your seam.

“Yours, daddy,” you whimper. “It’s all yours. Fuck it, please, need your fat cock so bad, daddy…”

Mark lets out an animalistic noise, slowly but heavily sliding himself inside your tight snatch. It’s always hard for you to take him, his cock being so large and all, but your arousal lubricates him perfectly. And when he looks down it takes everything in him not to tear you open right then and there. Your cute little cunt, all spread out on his big dick, pussy lips wrapped tightly around him, clit bulging and throbbing.

“You’re a dream,” Mark growls. You clench around him, his voice and smell making your brain hazy. “A goddamn dream— fuck, you little slut.”

He begins to fuck into you, holding your thong to the side and watching the way your behind jiggles with every thrust. Hitting his thighs over and over, he’s hypnotized by the fat of your ass. The creamy sounds of your pussy, along with smacking sounds, is quite loud throughout the room. Mark grabs your hair and yanks you up so your back arches more. Squealing, you grab his hands in an attempt to loosen his grip. But knowing how brash the man can be, you know he won’t let up anytime soon.

“Just like that,” he grunts against the shell of your ear. “Daddy’s little girl is so pretty, isn’t she? Couldn’t wait for his cock to fill you up, huh? Couldn’t wait for his load all in your guts?”

You try to nod, but all that comes out is a desperate and loud moan.

“It’s so good! Yes, need it harder, need more..” you cry. Mark chuckles, dark— he knows exactly what you’re asking for. His hand comes down to your ass, and he gives it a light smack as if to tease what’s about to come. You grind back, trying to get his hands back on you again. “Please daddy!”

He slows. Brings his hand up. It comes down hard— as if all his frustrations and anger come out into one particular spank. You cry out desperately, but your pussy quakes. Fuck, it feels good to be hit by him. And when it comes down again, and again, and again, your orgasm draws even more closer. He begins to pound you like you’re a worthless sex doll used for his own pleasure. He pounds you like you’re a desperate whore who’s on her deathbed for some cock— and in a way, you are. It’s not long before his strong hands are ripping the shorts and panties away from you. How he has the strength to cause such a rip in the fabric, you don’t know. He presses your back against his chest and rips your tank top down your chest. Your tits are exposed, nipples puffy and swollen.

“Slutty fuckin’ tits,” he huffs out, tweaking a nipple in between his fingers. Your eyes roll back, and he smacks the pebbled buds harshly. “Slutty little cunt… slutty little ass—“

His thumb plays with your puckered hole, and you gasp when he spits down into the seam of your ass. Lubricating it, he slides his thumb in. The burn of the stretch hurts but it’s not unbearable.

“Yeah, dirty bitch,” Mark’s gasping, hot, bringing his lips to yours and clashing the both of your teeth together. “Love having that little asshole played with…god, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

You nod, pushing back, clenching.

“Give it to me, daddy! Fill my hole up with your cum, it needs you, needs your fucking cum—“

And with a ferocious yell and one last thrust, he spills balls deep inside your pussy. Fucking himself through his orgasm, his cum seeps out the edges of your dripping seam. His fingers come down to your clit, his thrusts weak and his cock overstimulated, but he’s desperate to make you cum. A few circles rubbing into your swollen button is all it takes for you to scream and finally hit your peak. Your vision goes white, your ears ringing, and you swear your body dies and goes to heaven for a moment.

Warm and filled and used, you rest there for a moment with Mark. Just basking in the afterglow, in the feeling of him inside you. After a while, he speaks.

“You okay?” He asks. You nod, a dazed smile forming on your lips.

“Never better.”

He pulls out of you slowly. Watching his cum gush out of you and run down your legs almost makes him hard again, and he presses a finger into the puddle of creamy spend dripping out of you.

“Push it all out.” He states, dark. “Let me fucking see it.”

You do, making sure to let all of it drip out as much as you can. He came a lot, and your pussy is practically overflowing with his seed. You scoop up some with your finger, licking it all up and looking behind at your boyfriend with glazed eyes. He watches, hypnotized by your lips wrapping around the white substance.

“That’s my girl.” He says. “My good little girl.”

And you know you are.

#mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman x fem! reader #mark hoffman smut #costas mandylor #saw #saw 2004 #saw x #saw 2 #saw 3 #saw 4 #saw 5 #saw 6 #saw 3d #saw fanfic

[shadessallow]

HAPPY (a little late) INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY!!!

Everyday is women's day btw xoxo

ANYWAYS

Today I present to you: illustrating my own fanfic, just because I can!!!!

(it's not 100% accurate, since the hairstyle doesn't match but ughhhh I wanted to draw Brit all pretty and fancy)

Expect another post...sometime soon.

#art #artists on tumblr #saw #saw 2004 #saw movies #comics #saw franchise #saw x #pintshipping #saw fanart #brit saw v #brit stevenson #mallick saw v #mallick scott #saw 5 #saw art #saw fandom #illustration #ao3 fanfic #saw fanfic #digital fanart #saw v #saw pintshipping #ao3 writer #they are so in love #international women's day #happy women’s day

[corn-fanfiction]

Saviour Complex (Pt 1)

Summary: you are a witness in the Jigsaw case, and Mark Hoffman has been assigned to protect you. Neither of you are pleased.

RATED: M

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Reader

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Mark Hoffman, acab, power imbalance, slight age difference, reader is so normal, foul language

Sighs. Groans. Morning coffee and crusty eyes. Day in, day out. Chasing his own shadow, winning awards. Mark Hoffman didn't start a narcissist but holy hell if it doesn't suit him.

This is a morning of mornings. The FBI is hot on Strahm’s trail that leads six feet underground. They've eased out from the local Jigsaw case. The only one with any real clue is Hoffman. And no one at the FBI wants to go near him.

And why would they? Their golden boy agent is the Jigsaw apprentice who went ballistic and killed his boss and his ex-partner. The only one to have walked away from this case is Hoffman. As far as they're concerned, he's jinxed, or worse.

So yeah, Hoffman's king of the fucking castle. Everyone either wants to shake his hand or hide in their closets. He doesn't really care which. On top of all that, his work as Jigsaw keeps him from getting bored at work. There's a monotony to being a hometown hero with no one to chase.

This morning, Hoffman makes it past the water cooler before Betty, the secretary pokes her head around the corner.

“Mark? Chief wants to see you.”

Mark finds himself genuinely surprised. For the most part, no one really communicates anything to him other than “go here” and “do this” and it's always in an email.

Mark grabs a water for the walk and enters the Chief's office without knocking. He's at his desk, white hair balding and frayed. He's a man on the verge of constant breakdown.

“Mark!”

He notices Hoffman and perks up, pressing some papers aside.

“Chief. Betty said you needed to see me.”

There's a chair available but Mark doesn't take it. Something about standing tall and composed over your boss who's on his last leg… It's like a drug.

Chief's face falls. “Yeah, uh, about that, Mark…”

Mark does his best to keep his composure but Chief is starting to piss him off.

“What is it, Chief?”

“Mark…I gotta pull you off the Jigsaw case.”

Mark had to fight to keep from crushing the styrofoam cup in his hand.

“I- what the hell for?”

“It doesn't come from me, Hoffman. It's the FBI.”

“Fucking hell-”

“They want you to cool off. Right now they're running ragged and paranoid. They think you might be a liability.”

“It was their fucking boy that went off the rails!”

Chief spreads his hands. “Mark, it's not me. And it's only temporary. Let them settle down and in a month’s time they'll be over it.”

Keep it cool. Keep it cool.

“So what'll it be in the meantime? Meter maid?”

Chief chuckles nervously.

“Security detail.”

“Secur- you're joking.”

“It's easy, Mark. Protective custody. Feds think she might be involved with the Jigsaw case somehow and she's local.” Chief leans over to whisper this next part, “This is my way of keeping you close to things. Understand?”

Mark nods thoughtfully. This could be good. If not good then at least not a hindrance. Whoever this girl is, he doesn't know about her. That can be useful.

“Fine. You got a case file for me?”

“Yeah, but I'd take it with you. She's waiting in your office.”

-

You've been waiting thirty minutes and you have half a mind to split. You've combed through his bookshelf at least twice now, even pulling a book or two to read the spine, get bored, and replace it.

It's the photos that interest you the most, though. He's accepting an award in one. One’s a newspaper clipping about how he saved a little girl from the Jigsaw killer. Everyone at the restaurant thought it was so vile that a child, a little girl, would end up in one of those death traps. And it was. But you were the only one who thought it didn't quite match up with what Jigsaw had previously done. Everyone knows at this point that Jigsaw only takes people who need to learn a lesson. What lesson could a nine-year-old have to learn from a reverse bear trap?

Another photo has the detective with a young woman. He's younger in the picture as well. They're in front of a river and he looks…happy. Not that you know the man, but just looking at the other photo…it's miles different. Parts are still the same: thick brown hair, strong face, broad shoulders. A handsome man to be sure, but looking at the photos…a devastated one, too.

You turn swiftly on your heels when you hear the office door open. The man himself enters with a cup in one hand and a file (your file, you assume) in the other.

You half expect him to do the stop-and-stare moment, but he spares you a single glance before closing the door, brushing past you, and sitting in the corner of his desk. He sips from his cup. Opens the file.

“You must be y/n.”

“I must be,” you say with a bite. His eyes actually widen at that and you sigh. “Sorry. That came out much bitchier than I intended. You must be Detective Hoffman.”

“I must be.”

“Huh. Cute,” you chuckle at his retort. And for a man who seems so composed, he shifts ever so slightly at your response. “So. Guess we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.”

“Try not to sound too excited,” he quips, and your face sours; you make no attempt to hide it.

“Forgive me, but if you ask me, and no one did, this is a waste of time and resources.”

“Waste of time?” he flips open your case file and his eyes widen. “You saw the Jigsaw killer?”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“No, I didn’t.”

“That’s not what your witness statement says.”

“I said that I got a glimpse of them, and maybe not even that. Look, I was on my way home when I passed that packaging plant- the one you were in? I heard some weird sounds, saw someone, and reported it. Now I’m starting to wish I hadn’t said a fucking thing.”

He watches you. His eyes, which were something akin to mirthful, have now darkened.

“How much of him did you see?”

Jesus Christ, the man doesn’t get it.

“I. Didn’t. See him. I got his build. That’s it. And now, all of a sudden, I’m in protective custody weeks later. How does that make sense?”

Detective Hoffman places your folder on the desk beside him and goes around to sit in his seat.

“It makes plenty of sense. They’re worried Jigsaw might come after you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, either. Jigsaw only goes after fucked up people, and I hope to fucking god that I’ve never done anything that would land me in one of those traps. I don’t do anything. I’m a waitress. I don’t have friends, I don’t leave my apartment. I don’t do anything.”

He watches you carefully during your tirade. Your voice bridges on hysteria the more you talk and you tell yourself to reel it in. This guy is a smug bastard from what you can tell. The last thing you need is an excuse for him to write you off as crazy.

Unless that’ll get the cops off your back.

Finally, Hoffman sighs and sips his coffee. “Well, it isn’t up to either of us, is it?”

You huff and cross your arms. Your eyes drift to the newspaper clipping.

“Why’d you get benched?”

Hoffman stiffens a little. It would’ve been imperceptible if you weren’t clocking this man’s every move and facial twitch, dissecting every word.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been on the Jigsaw case for years. I looked you up. You saved that little girl after surviving a trap. So, why would they bench their star player?”

Once again, he is silent as he observes you. His stare is starting to weird you out.

“Like I said. Not up to me.”

Walls up. Files locked. No chance in hell you’re getting close enough to figure this one out, so you decide to let it go for now.

“Fine,” you sit in a chair. “So, what now? Are you my live-in bodyguard? You follow me to work?”

“I babysit, yeah.”

You scoff. “Real nice.”

“Like I said.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first five times. Fuck.”

You stand and pace the floor.

“This doesn't have to be painful. I'll just keep my distance and you'll do whatever it is you do. We don't even have to talk to each other. Deal?”

You chew on your lips. You think of your small apartment, you waitressing gig, your sleepy Sundays reading at home. You're gonna be pissed if you have to leave any of that behind. You seethe.

“Fine.”

#mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #saw fanfic

[hhhhoffman]

willing

summary: detective mark hoffman wants to have his way with you behind the police station in the early hours of the morning, and you are more than willing to let him.

pairing: mark hoffman x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+

word count: 1.6k

cw: piv sex, wall sex, oral sex/blow job, praise kink, dirty talk, light bdsm (dominant!hoffman), light degradation (name calling), creampie, vaginal fingering.

you can also read this fic on ao3.

His eyes burn with desire. 

He stands over you, his large arms bracketing your head. He's so powerful and domineering like this, his height exaggerated by the way you buckle against the wall. Your knees weak with want, your wide eyes looking up and on his. Reverent and desperate. 

He's unbearably close, so close you can almost taste him. His body is rich with the scent of his cologne, as well as metal and blood. You don't know exactly where he's been, but you can guess.

You know everything now. The knowledge of who he really is thrums through your veins, rattles your core. Yet all you feel is an ardent craving. You only wish to indulge in him, in his competence and his power. 

You are only one thing: willing.

His gaze slips down to your lips, and you part them as you exhale, your own eyes still locked on his face, your heart beating hard with anticipation. 

The silence begins to hurt.

"I missed you," you mutter softly, pathetically. The words just fall out of you, and you swallow hard as you watch him register them. 

He grunts an apathetic "huh," deep and gruff. His indifference flares a fire inside you, an eager need to please him. It smoulders with shame and heat and want. 

He leans closer, his lips grazing yours, teasing you. His breath is warm and delicious, and you wish he would taste you, so you can drink him. Your eyes flutter closed, your mind swims in submission.

He kisses you, gently.

But then all at once it changes, and his weight is against you, crushing you into the wall. You gasp as he thrusts his tongue in your mouth, and you let him, opening yourself up to him, allowing him to lap at you, kissing him back deeply, brazenly. 

You feel the hardness of his erection rub against your thigh, the size of it straining the material of his pants. You want to fix it, let me fix it, you think.

Let me feel you. 

Your fingers trail down him, magnetised to his cock, as though you are instinctively trained for this. Made for this. 

You touch him. He bites you. His teeth incites a sharp pain, and your bottom lip slightly bleeds. He hums a pleasing groan. 

"Pretty girl," he whispers huskily in your ear, your fingers becoming frantic now, rubbing his hardness with one hand, the other desperately trying to free him from his belt, his buckle clinking with your efforts.

You open your eyes and look up at him, suck your bottom lip into your mouth, taste the metallic tang of your own blood. 

"On your knees," he demands cooly, and you instantly obey, dropping down to face the tent in his trousers.

You quickly free his cock from the confines of his pants, your fingers familiar with the thick length of it, pumping him the way you know he likes, keeping your eyes fixed up at him. He looks down at you greedily, shrugs off his blazer. Allows it to fall to the ground. 

You take him in your mouth, relishing in the saltiness of his precum, lapping it up from his tip. He's rock hard, and the intensity of his arousal spurs you on. You are purposeful with your tongue, flicking it around him as you begin to bob your head, taking him in and out, deeper and wetter. 

He likes it messy. You gag on him, taking him into your throat, out, in. You hear his gravelly groans of pleasure, the bliss of his moans stoking the heat between your legs. The need for friction. 

Your saliva is in your hair, sticking to your cheeks as you work him. You feel him brush the strands away, holding your hair in a tight fist at the back of your head, further enabling you to pleasure him. You feel the pressure of him pushing you, and you take it. Take him deeper down your throat. You choke, but he encourages you with praise.

"Good girl."

The words are decadent, and you feel them deep in your loins. You are dripping between your legs, and your hips begin to rock of their own volition.

"Breathe through your nose, sweetheart."

You do as he says, then after a few moments, he pulls himself out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his cock. You cough and splutter, but he's shushing you, telling you how good you make him feel, how beautiful you look on your knees for him, such a messy girl, such a perfect little whore.

The ache in your cunt is all you can think of, how good his large cock would feel stretching you out, pounding into you over and over again. You need him, carnally, spiritually. In any and every way. 

He pulls you to your feet, pins you back up against the wall. He's kissing at your neck, your jaw, trailing his lips and teeth down the column of your throat. He nips at your collarbone.

Then his strong hands yank down your top, exposing your breasts, and then his lips and fingers are on them - teasing your nipples, pawing the soft and sensitive flesh with his rough touch. He bites and sucks them, leaving those sweet little bruises he loves to cover you in. 

Marking his territory. 

With a dominant growl he turns you around, pressing your exposed tits into the cold brick wall. He pulls your hips toward him, you let him, and you arch your back to further encourage him. He pulls down your pants and underwear with one tug, exposing your wet slick to the cold night air. His fingers slide up your slit, and you whine. 

"So wet," he says with a smug pride. "You want me to fuck you so badly, don't you?"

You can't speak. You can't think or move or breathe. Then you feel him tease your entrance with the tip of his girthy, hard cock. He groans, and his next words are teasing, cruel.

"What do you want? Tell me what you want." 

"Fuck me," you cry, your face pressed against the wall. "Please."

He doesn't move. Your words are not good enough. 

"Use me Hoffman, fucking take me," you beg, tears of desperation prickling your eyes. "I need it. I fucking need you." 

An odious chuckle, the sweet stretch of him sheathing himself inside you.

"Good fucking whore."

He moves, hard and with purpose, pounding himself in and out of you relentlessly. Your face and chest and tits rub against the wall, the rough surface surely grazing your skin. But you feel nothing but the sheer, raw pleasure of it all. 

His hands grip on to your hips, waist and ass, his fingers digging into your soft body possessively as he fucks you against the wall.

It's euphoric. 

You can feel the weight of his thrusts, heavy and necessary, the strength that he pounds into you is almost otherworldly. He takes out all his rage and grief and power on you, and you take it, you take him. You're made for this. 

He tells you so. What a sweet, dirty girl you are, how proud he is of you for taking him so well, so deeply, how beautiful you look bent over for him, letting him fuck you outside like this, round the back of the station when he's meant to be working. What a filthy whore you are to make him feel this way, but oh, how good you feel, how perfect you are. 

His voice is deep and thick with lust. His words and his noises sound as good as he feels, so hot and perfect and hard. You can feel his rhythm stutter, his pace becoming erratic as he nears his climax. 

"Give it to me, Hoffman," you grunt, the strength of his thrusts making your voice shake. "Cum in me, cum deep inside me."

Your begging tips him over the edge. His groans escalate in volume, the wave of his peak rising and rising and soaring, then crashing down in a grand, serene climax. He grips you so hard you'll bruise, the marks from his fingers will stain your soft flesh.

Good. 

He slackens on top of you, his hand at your throat, his breathing laboured. After a moment he pulls out of you, and you mewl at the loss of his sweet intrusion. He swiftly flips you around again, his forearm against your chest. The fingers of his other hand slip between your thighs. 

His cum begins to leak out of you, but he works it back inside of you, fucking it into you with his large, rough fingers. He moves between penetrating you and playing with your clit, and his pace is perfect, he doesn't let up, determined and dogged in his efforts, and you whine for him to never, ever stop. You cry out, looking at his handsome face. He stares at you with severe eyes, watches and feels and smells your climax begin to peak until there it is - it hits you hard, the crescendo of your pleasure ringing in your ears and rolling your eyes into your head, a burst of golden bliss blossoming in your cunt, your blood, your skin. You pant, your limbs becoming useless, the strength of your orgasm rendering your body limp. 

He holds you up, using his hand to support your face, then open your mouth. He pushes his fingers, coated with both his and your cum, deep into your mouth. You lap at him greedily, obediently. He places a tender kiss at your cheek, and whispers in your ear, his words and his breath sluicing down your spine into liquid bliss. 

"That's my girl."

-

#mark hoffman fic #mark hoffman fanfic #mark hoffman fanfiction #hoffman #hoffman fic #hoffman fanfic #hoffman fanfiction #detective hoffman #detective hoffman fanfiction #detective hoffman fic #detective hoffman fanfic #detective mark hoffman #saw fic #saw fanfic #saw fanfiction #costas mandylor #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x you #hhhhoffman #my writing

[mrkheartffmans]

sitting here just casually thinking about reader letting adam touch her boobs. they're roomates but he walked in on her changing and it's kinda all he can think about since it happened... he's such a fucking perv. "you wanna see em up close, don't you?" you tease him. there's so much behind the poor boy's eyes. he nods and you take his hands in yours. helping his shaky palms feel you up. he's blushing, breathless, and oh so achingly hard in his jeans. chewing at the skin on his lips when he suddenly feels your nipples hardening under his grasp. OKAY I'M DONE this has been on my brain for like 4 hours... i'm 100% normal about him y'all :)

part two

#adam stanheight #saw 2004 #adam stanheight x reader #black!fem!reader #saw fanfic #m x f #adam stanheight smut #adam faulkner stanheight x black!reader #adam faulkner stanheight

[strawberrihart]

when i go to film school and meet my partner and we write an amazing horror movie that turns into a franchise, we better get a fandom that has the same energy as Saw fans.

i love you guys so muchh 🌀🧩🪚

#sawposting #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw movies #saw #adam saw #saw adam #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight #leigh whannell #james wan #film school #horror film #lawerence gordon #lawrence gordon #saw fandom #saw fanart #saw films #saw fanfic