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applesontheground · 25 days ago

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fool me twice, shame on me 🧩

KINKTOBER 2024 | DAY TWENTY EIGHT - FUCKING MACHINE

you know i had to do (another) SAW thing for this prompt. this was also one i did some extra homework on, because i had never heard of a fucking machine up until the kinktober list introduced me to the concept...but i mean, what did you expect from a saw x reader fan when she heard about a machine that fucks you??

and as for which jigsaw i'm doing it with? why, the one who's my favorite because he's the absolute worst at it, of course!

NSFW | Word Count: 3,200 | Mark Hoffman x AFAB Apprentice!Reader (GN pronouns) contains manhandling, fucking machine/chair, bondage, edging, hair pulling, penetration, overstimulation, slight somno/dubcon themes 🎼: x, x (yeah this is a hoffman song in my head i'm sorry to say 😔😔😔)

John didn’t make this one.

You could see that in its formation from the poor welding job to the odd design altogether as you circled the lone chair in the middle of the floor, a metal box underneath and supported by the legs, serving as the foundation. Furthermore, Hiding what was underneath the seat.

Leaning in, you had remembered John scrutinizing this schematic. He didn't understand why the piston that drove a blade, something sharp and a physical encouragement for what the player needed to stop in order to live, had to be underneath them.

Your eyes boggled as the head of something else stared back at you, and just as you stood back from it, ready to have a field day with what you had seen, there was a force pushing up on your spine.

Immediately using him as a backboard to fling away, you turned and gave a tight expression as he lumbered forward, in the garb including that daunting mask. You caught the syringe in his hand, and immediately began trying to dodge.

He caught up fast, easily able to lift you from under the arms, throwing you against a nearby workbench in the room and boxing you in. A few prods close to your throat made your leg come out, and a yelp in his face that did nothing to save you. Part of you didn’t want to kick below the belt, but you were put in a rather tight position.

Sure enough, a knee drove into his stomach, and he stepped back as you tried to dart away, towards the doorway that you came in from. Another powerful yank of your arm got you close to him a second time, and you turned around to face him again, hold him away from you.

Grabbing his upper arms, feeling the muscle and the sheer force that he was holding you in place with, you sucked in a breath as the needle came to your arm this time instead of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you spat another obscenity at him. A grunt came from behind the mask, and you then stared down at where your elbow was pressing into his forearm, trying to rip his hands off of you in a last ditch effort.

The needle was there, just past your own skin and tucked against where your arms met, but when he let go of you, it was revealed the syringe was stabbed into the wrong forearm.

Your eyes shot back up, and he stepped back, the needle falling to the floor between the two of you. You caught your balance, wondering if there was any sedative in your bloodstream despite him missing.

“Fuckin'...” He stammered, voice clear as day under the mask as he held his arm. Taking a few backpedals yourself, you caught your breath, realizing what he had tried to do fully now.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You breathed, but he merely rocked back a few times on his feet – and then one lean too heavily did it. Jumping at the sheer noise of his body hitting the floor, you looked back at the chair.

Then to him. Disbelief, a lack of knowing what the fuck to do made you gaze back at the chair. Swallowing hard, you then looked down at him a second time.

Thoughts came together, making you slowly circle him.

Uncertainty turned betrayal, betrayal turned a recognition that he had failed. You crossed your arms, and muttered to yourself, “You were gonna put me in that, huh?”

You smiled, looking back at it, then turning slowly to stand over him now. You pulled the mask from his face, making sure he was asleep with a level stare at his closed eyes, trying not to find it endearing to see such a brutal man asleep. You then began snapping close to his ears a few times just for good measure.

“What to do with you, hm?"

You had to keep shaking your hands out, utterly tantalized the more you looked at the chair – and especially after you took all the strength training you had been getting into from the labors that came with being a Jigsaw accomplice. You hadn't been strong enough to take him when he was awake, but when he was dead weight?

It was still a chore to get him off the ground, but you were pretty satisfied to have him in his own contraption, especially considering what it was going to do to you in another pan out of this situation. You set his mask and jacket on the workbench in the room, finding a few folded schematics to what he had put together – and of course, the silver remote that powered the piston underneath the chair, driving up what he had told you and John last week was going to be a bed of nails.

You realized that was wrong now, lips pursed as you set the blueprints to the chair over his folded trousers. Everyone in the room had the same lewd thought in the back of their head when they saw a chair with no bottom in the first draft of the machine, a piston driving upwards with nothing on it yet. The motions were too fast to kill with one thrust.

You were only performing the liberties you assumed he would do to you.

With your back turned, you caught the sound of the restraints jingling against the metal of the chair, sleepy sighs from the man. It all must've felt a little taut since it was measured for someone with smaller wrists, but it’d still work. You looked at your wrists at the thought, imagining how they’d feel against that chair, all tied up and helpless. How one mishandling of a needle was what put you over there…and him in your place with a judgement from your own side of the fence.

“Oh, Christ.” He was realizing this too, you mused to yourself as you listened to his groggy voice with a smirk.

“Okay...” You turned slowly on your heels, falling back on the workbench in a lean and looking at him below the neck. You had taken his pants off, shirt halfway unbuttoned so you could ogle his full chest, leave some to the imagination. He wouldn’t respond well to being totally stripped, anyways. You evened it out by taking your shirt off, too. Your [bare chest/bra] faced him, pants and shoes still on as you didn’t respond.

“Okay.” He repeated himself, and your eyes met his finally with a smirk twinging on your face. “It looks like you’ve made a point.” He eased, but you cocked your head.

He was silent following that, and you hummed, “No, detective. I don’t think I have.”

“You really think this is a good idea?” He then asked, hands shrugging with upturned palms as he sat bound to the chair, and you replied, “Sure, it was yours to begin with. I'm only following in the footsteps, Mr. Bed of Nails.” He watched your hands skitter across the workbench, finding the silver remote you had tucked underneath his coat.

His jaw tightened, and he warned, “Easy, tiger. You have no idea what that’s gonna do.”

Eyes widening, you pushed off the bench now and walked towards him. “See, that’s what I mean. You don’t know what I’m capable of,” You waggled the remote in your hand, and insisted, “I know exactly what this does. You left your homework out for any stupid pair of eyes to catch them.” You crossed your arms, and then asked him, “How long do you think you were asleep for? What, did you assume I wasn’t going to reverse-engineer this thing, see what you were really working on?” You touched your neck, the place where the sedative had ghosted, “And then realize that I was going to be the one sitting there?”

He shrugged in the restraints.

“You know what I’m going to do now, I guess." You tapped the remote on your chin, grinning because you never quite got the turn in the limelight to say the next few words nearly as much as you had wanted to in your worst ideas of what this would all crack up to be.

"I want to play a game.”

He physically recoiled at the sentence, still trying to ease you down. “Look, hey. Look at me-“Your eyes went back to his. “And listen to me too before you do anything. I can admit that I misjudged you, [Y/N].”

Ignoring the plea, you stopped a few steps away from him, backpedaling as you found his pants on the bench. “Wait, wait. I almost forgot about the other one, too. You thought the first piston wasn’t going to be enough for the job?” You held up the black, smaller remote, and he adjusted uncomfortably, “This goes to the other part of the chair, doesn’t it?”

“No. It’s a fake for nosy assholes like you.” He suddenly bit, and you made a beeline over to him. You plopped down, straddling his bare legs with your own and seething back, “Bullshit. I played with this chair long enough to see what everything on it does. I even recognize where you got this one-“You smiled, the black remote between two of your noses, “Repurposed from one of those toys that someone like me would stick in her panties, walk around in public with while it rubs her all day – at the mercy of someone else.”

He looked you up and down, trying to find a crack in your certainty, but you quickly dipped your hand to his exposed cock, feeling the ribbed surface underneath it. “That would be good measurement to hit right where you'd want, you think?" You then shook your head and added, “This is sized for the wrong legs to sit in between, but…”

“I will say,” You then explained, “The positioning of the piston below the chair might be a little too far forward for you instead of me-“ You sat back slightly, balancing closer to his knees as he tried to lunge at you, and when you regained balance you finished, “But I think I made it work.” You then cooed a little more, readjusting as you went on, “Nice touch with the neck restraints, by the way.” You ran your hand over the collar around his neck, pinned to the back of the chair. Keeps you from moving your head too much, like you anticipated.” You ran your finger under his chin and sighed, “It’s funny. You and I are both biters, I guess.”

“I tried to take it easy on you, thinking you'd quit when you proved your point.” He warned, and you grumbled, “Again, I don’t think I have yet.”

“When I get out of this, I’ll show you just how much I can bite.” He muttered, and your expression froze. A few dry spouts of silence, and as your hand rested back on the silver remote you whispered, “Promise me that, Mark?”

You pressed the top button, powering the machine on. When no one sat in it, it had been rather loud, metal clanging against each other, the penetrative device itself scuffing against everything as the piston had driven it up into nothing.

A slow prod, something he designed with a surprising amount of care, made his expression pull tight. “You-!” He couldn’t talk, and you turned it off quick, watching him immediately shudder, heart practically racing and showing in the way his entire body tensed under you.

He spat, “You fucking bitch, you don’t just-“

“That’s not what the notes that you wrote say.” You glared, leaning in a little and your feet touching the floor in the stretch, the seam of your pants against his crotch and breath against his lips. “It said to power the piston before the vibrator. You were going to do that to me. Make me take it raw.”

“Maybe I was.” He suddenly muttered, "But I assume you'd like it raw."

You pressed the remote again, this time to the vibrator. He jerked around in the chair, not quite the same sensation for him that it would've been for you, but still fun to watch as it buzzed against him.

He started breathing a shade heavier, and that was when you hit the silver remote again. He got to feel a few more gentle prods up into him, his legs shaking already along with the stimulation against the head of his cock. "You dirty bitch, you even-"

"You had the lube in your jacket pocket..." You curled your lip up, "I'm playing as fair as you were about to, pervert."

Another breath through gritting teeth, he continued to writhe, but it seemed less pained and scared. You found a rhythm on the remote that got him making less ghoulish noises, and ones that had him staring up at you with a partially open mouth, letting you tug gently on the curled ends of his hair behind his head and not call you so many profane names.

“You know, a fleshlight would be a good addition to the piston.” You crooned, and after another heavy groan he muttered, “I’m looking at a perfectly good fleshlight on my lap right now.”

You held his shoulders now, and he suddenly goaded you, “Yeah, you know what I want.”

You maybe held out for a few beats, but when he set his forehead in the crook of your shoulder, another heavy shiver and moan against your skin, your hands went to your belt. “Didn’t know you became a whiner with someone else on top.” You observed, hopping off to unzip your fly.

“Turn this fucking chair off,” He demanded, “And sit on my cock before I go ahead and come without you.” The disheveled growl between words, his flushed face that had broken out in a sweat maybe within the first few pumps of the chair, and the messy hair that was partially his own doing and another part yours, made you clench around nothing. You fumbled, but turned your back to him as you continued to undress.

“Turn it off, [Y/N].” You paused, but then he hummed your name again, “Come on, [Y/N]-“ And you hit both remotes, the mechanical noises slowing and his body slumping slightly.

“No electric chair with a block of ice,” You sighed, underwear sliding down now at the pool of clothing by your feet, “But you’re hanging in there all the same.”

“Get back over here.” He barked, and you obeyed, remote to the piston still in your hand as you stood in front of him. Keeping the game fair, you had your sweater back on, a little loose on you just from you preferring a baggy shirt, but giving you coverage.

“There [he/she is / they are], now untie me.”

“No, sir.” You found your limit with his demands, and asked, “If I get on your lap again, are you going to bite?” He glared up at you, and then asked, “Did you want me to, princess?” You pulled your sweater over your cunt, stepping back until his cock suddenly twitched, and he sat back. “Shit. I’m fucking with you, come on.” He then rolled his neck, chest heaving and able to breathe without jostling, without penetration driving him up the wall. Sitting back, he spread his legs a little to invite you, and hummed, “You can trust me.”

You absolutely could not, but you still went out on a limb by sitting back down, rubbing your folds up against his shaft and watching his stomach suck in as he hissed through his teeth. Under your sleeve, you hit the button again, and slid down on his cock in the same breath.

"Motherf-!" He cursed again, and you let him go ahead with what he said he wouldn't do. Biting your shoulder, making you yelp in turn, but then start to mewl into his ear, airy breaths and hums as you started to use the leg portion of your strength training now.

He was back in an almost blissed out state, still shaking the chair and pulling on the straps but letting you ride him without another chomp, even making a few long, drawn out moans as you varied your pace.

Just when you keened, felt his own thrusts that met you in the middle start to shudder and spiral into uneven jerks peppered with strained noises from him, your feet hit the ground with one more moan from your own mouth.

You pulled off, and as much as it pained you as well, you hopped up again. Barely able to stand straight, you shuddered a laugh and ran a finger over your puffed out clit as he jerked in the chair, almost roared in the groan that came out. Precum slicked his thighs, and he splayed them open while trembling all the way down.

“Wht- What th’fuck are you doing!?” He could barely talk, spitting with clenching teeth, ready to rip you apart like an unkempt Rottweiler if you got too close. You eased him, trying not to laugh at the display, “Hey, hey, hey. I had to test you one more time, but I have my reasons.”

“I bet you do, lying cunt. Huh?” He snarled, and your hands fell to his clenched knuckles, pushing down on the wrist straps.

“Shh, yes. Yes, I do.” You quieted him, and murmured, “I wanted to rile you up one more time, because let’s face it, Hoff.” You took hold of the end of each strap, pulling on them slightly but not yet undoing them. “I want to see what happens to me when I let you out now.”

His furious expression tightened – not from rising anger, but instead a furious need, a realization he was about to get it. He sneered at you, almost in a challenge, and you did as you said, the leather straps becoming loose.

One hand shot out, grabbed you by your sweater, and the other slipped down to the ankle straps on the chair to finish the job. You practically felt the rough night ahead of you rising as he stood, hand tangling up in your hair and yanking hard against the roots to keep your eyes on him, his throbbing erection shifting between your legs and settling there as he stood toe to toe with you. The height difference changed the tides fast, your eyes boring up while his smoldered down.

“Didn’t know Jigsaw wanted to play so goddamn filthy. Guess you learned that from Kramer." He shrugged, but you blinked slowly at that, the quip scared in tone but your eyes wide with anticipation.

“Who said I learned how to play dirty from John?”

He clenched his teeth in a pained smile, walking backwards with you until you were up against the workbench again, him still driving forward after he finished walking so his cock went right back inside of you, making you whimper and your eyes roll back. He leaned in close, cradling your neck now as he spoke into your ear.

“Oh, so you’re finally saying it. That you’re my fucking [boy/girl/problem]?”

#mark hoffman x reader #jigsaw x reader #slasher x reader #kinktober 2024 #notsfw #✏️#🧩#rewatching IV for this was cracking me up too ngl #he's such a bad liar #also: another era vulgaris track for my era vulgaris blorbo <3

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applesontheground · 2 months ago

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play the game 'til i'm dead 🧩

KINKTOBER 2024 | DAY EIGHT - SWALLOWING & COCKWARMING

major shoutout to @bisexual-horror-fan for giving me a little idea on how to tackle what i already had in the thinktank for this <3 <3

the working title for this one was "a case of epic bad luck" but i ended up changing it last second. seemed too on the nose, but know that the temptation was there.

NSFW | Word Count: 2,205 | Mark Hoffman x Female Apprentice!Reader contains DUBIOUS CONSENT TO MENTIONED SWALLOWING, teasing, predator/prey, manhandling, brief mention of voyeurism but nothing comes of it, edging, mouthfuck 🎼: x

You were working under Jigsaw. Of course you had a little too much interest in playing with the wills of others.

It started casual enough: tapping his shoulder when walking by, adjusting your pants so the arches of your thong showed for a split second, and that wasn’t even including the instance where you bent over, sliding part of your body into an incinerator that was going to be utilized for the next trap just to hang a syringe for an individual to have to crawl all the way inside for. Of course, you tried to do it with your backside still out, but eventually had to bend one knee, slide even further inside.

He was standing a few paces away, having to remain there like a tied up dog while John was in eyeshot just outside of room, able to catch of anything he may do and unaware of what was going on just around the wall. There was a pretty ragged part of himself that didn’t particularly care what Kramer spotted, but he chose to keep control of himself by focusing on something else in the room that needed rigging.

When you slid back out, shirt riding up and showing the matching color of bra, a dropped screwdriver made you look over at him. You two held the stare, and part of you wondered if he knew you were well aware of what you were doing.

A strike of bravery ran through you, and decided you were going to make that clear. You strode over, eyes downcast and smile barely subdued. You then adjusted, bending down in front of him to get the tool, hair curling by the toe of his boot as it hung down, and then handing it over with an innocent murmur. “Dropped this.”

He nodded back slowly, taking it without so much as a cough that resembled thanks. You walked away promptly, asking John about something that needed to be reconfigured somewhere else in the house that was being set up.

It was going to be fine, so long as the constant stayed constant, and someone else was around to keep him in line.

“You guys have to go where?”

Amanda turned to look at you, and explained again, “There’s a problem with a few of the traps over in the warehouse across town. It can be handled by just two of us, so I was thinking that John and I could go take care of it while you two finish up here, right?”

You glanced around the dim workshop, not sure where Hoffman had walked off to, but then you thinly answered, “Sure, think that’s easy enough.”

Most of your tempting had been a couple hours ago, but his hard glares were a sign it wasn’t going to be forgotten, and that you were getting payback the second he had you alone. He wasn’t meatheaded enough to do it with others around, so you comfortably kept walking along that tightrope: licking your fingers before straightening something on the diorama on the tables, stretching rather playfully, and now?

You had just set up the stage for the moment these two would drive away.

The other woman seemed to read something akin to what was going through your mind in the way your calm expression twisted a little, and she walked over carefully. “Are you worried about being left alone with him?”

Your eyes shot up from staring at the table, and playing dumb you asked, “Should I be?”

Amanda scoffed, “No. He’s surprisingly fair when it comes to…how he treats women. Doesn’t take advantage – and I would know, both of us scoured his records after he started working with us.” You tilted your head, matching her halfhearted smile. She then touched your shoulder, and assured you, “Really, he’s safe. …And if he isn’t?” Her fingers slid off your shoulder, “We’ll take care of it.”

You grinned now, and finally sighed, “Alright, alright. You guys have my burner number if you need anything. Or his, but-“

Amanda started walking backwards, and she quickly declared, “I’d call you, [Y/N].” You laughed now, but as soon as she smiled to signal her exit and turned her back to you, your eyes widened. Quickly, you scoured the room, hearing John and Mark discussing something casual in the other room. Most likely the same thing she just told me, you figured. You started looking around for good hallways to slink off to, somewhere to hide while hopping a little in place, unable to just stand there.

It was idiotic to admit this prospect excited you, but remembering the few times you had seen what he does to people who’ve caused him problems, the pit in your stomach fluttered in both terror and arousal.

The doors to the warehouse slid shut somewhere on the other side, and the sound of footsteps now approaching the room you were in made you brace. You rushed over to a nearby shelf, pressing into the shadows and watching for his entrance. He wouldn’t be hard to miss, squared shoulders coming into view.

“Think you’re funny, huh?” He asked, “Well, let’s see how hilarious this mess can get, [Y/N].” You swallowed hard, seeing him circle the table you had just been standing at. Your heart raced, not able to see where he was looking, and whether or not he could see as clear in the dark as you were. When a turn of his head swiveled back to stare straight, right where you would be in a clear line of view, you shot out to make it for the door.

What you had advantage for in speed he did in strength, one yank of the hem of your shirt making your feet slip under you in a botched run and torso slam into the doorway, his own weight shoving you twice as hard into it from the back.

“John was telling me your ability to anticipate how plans are going to pan out was growing sharper since he dragged you into all of this.” He then spoke, taking your upper arm that wasn’t pushed into the wall and twisting it behind your back, “I disagree. This is turning out pretty poor for you as far as I can tell.”

You winced, but then let out a laugh, “Shit, I try not to assume it’s gonna work out in my favor every time, but this was really unexpected.” You let him pry you off the doorway, and mentioned, “Amanda told me you were going to be harmless.”

He grimaced at that, eyes narrowing as you then asked, “Well, and speaking of the others, if Dr. Gordon comes in here?”

“Neither of us should be thinking that far ahead.” He muttered down at you, his eyes catching an open spot on the table and turning you around with him. You made this last part hard, slamming your shoulders into his chest and finally groaning in a satisfied defeat as he got you doubled over the hard surface, an ugly clang echoing through the room.

His will was fun to play with, but now it was your turn. He took a second as his hand snaked around, undoing your belt and finally getting to see the underwear you had merely shown glimpses of in its full appearance.

He lingered on it for a second, and you were surprised he knew what taking its time meant as you enjoyed the pause before they were pulled aside and a middle finger slid through, bumping your entrance and not even taking the time to tease.

“Oh, give me a break.” He muttered, craning down to loom over you and speak directly against your face, “You’re that wet before I even did anything?” You looked down at what he was doing, unable to make eye contact as he muttered another curse, pulling away and wasting no time replacing his finger with the tip of his cock.

You let out a strained noise, almost hurt as he slid halfway in, a hand running up your back, under your shirt to feel the bra now, and he then went the rest of the way. You spat through the labor, the initial pain that made you shiver through your words, “You’re just going for it, huh?”

“Oh.”

Your eyes widened again, practically feeling the dread spur your core as he stilled, “I’m not moving, hon.” You squirmed, and he responded by immediately bracing the back of your neck, “And I don’t think you are, either.”

Your breaths were labored, but that was all you gave him at first. Staying still, both arms on either side of your head and his moving to hold you down by your wrists. You set your chin against the table, forming a hunch that you could outwait him.

He was the one who adjusted now, and you quickly bit, “Oh, get a load of this lying bastard.”

“What? I’m not moving.” He lied, another slight pull out before bumping your core again, and the first huff melted into a groan. A spike of bravery, the same one that had been toying with you all evening as you did him, struck again. “I don’t know why I expected you to play fair.”

You clenched your walls around him, the heat from the act (or lack thereof) seeping through to you as the hold on your wrists tightened. He breathed deeply through his nose, and you decided there was a new angle you could take. “I can’t believe I wanted to play with a man who can’t keep his word.”

You smiled, seeing a slight shake in his arms, and his lips purse tight from the corner of your eye as you pressed your ear to the table and spoke over your shoulder, voice trembling and stuttering but continuing to egg on. “Here you are, telling me to stay still when you’re on the verge of fucking my brains out. Wouldn’t that be enough of a rut for the both of us? I don’t even have to come-“

“You’re not going to if you keep talking.” He sputtered, the snarl to his voice making your jaw fall open, and somehow you felt as though he slipped even deeper, holding the position as your voice fell from grace, and you asked, “I th-think I just…” You heaved a breath that jostled both of you slightly, and splayed your legs just a bit more comfortably.

“Sure. I just want you to do it, then.” A twitch in you made you twist the knife, and you even put a little hum to your voice now instead of the brutality you had laced it with, “Please.”

Another awful sound from above was all you got before your hips were released from digging into the table – and then promptly shoved back in. Forming bruises made you yelp as he started taking a pace that was half orchestrated, a decent rhythm, and quickly spiraling out. He released your wrists, one hand now pressing back on your neck while the other hooked around your thigh.

“Stupid whore,” He muttered, and you merely hummed in reply, “Don’t forget how easy it was for me, how badly you fucking wanted this.”

“I do,” You agreed, “And you’re giving it to me. It’s a t-two way street-“ You cut yourself off with another hiccuped moan, jostled to the point your feet barely stayed on the ground as you melted back into his pace, barely heard what he said next.

“This isn’t ending the way you think it is.”

You sighed in relief, an itch feeling closer to being scratched and assuming it meant he was going to let you come, let both of you have some sort of release after the day you spurred on, no consequence for you after all.

That was lost fast, the sensation and warm tickle inside quelled as he suddenly pulled out. You almost had something else to say, whimpering slightly as he pulled you off the table, turning you around. You stayed silent for once, breathing through an open mouth and trying not to beg any more. Still, you gave him one look, and he responded by pushing you down to your knees.

A position you had teased him with before, you realized as you fell forward from another pull of your hair, positioning you to take the erection he still had, blue-balled to hell and back and burning against your tongue, into your mouth. You went all the way back, retching against him and grabbing his knees to brace yourself.

He froze, and suddenly you realized you weren’t just drooling out onto his base. You tried to pull back, begin gagging up the thick semen that was now dripping down your throat, filling your mouth, but he suddenly plugged your nose and held you still as you demurred loudly against him.

When he did pull out, he came down to one knee, hitting your head against the edge of the table and covering your mouth.

“Swallow it.” He demanded, and when you made eye contact but stopped struggling against him, stunned from the bump your head had taken, he nodded with his hair slipping into his face. Your breaths were muffled against his hand, but you supposed the best thing to do was play with him, not against him. He seemed to agree too, feeling you shudder as your throat finally started to take it down and your eyes closed.

“Good girl.”

#mark hoffman x reader #jigsaw x reader #slasher x reader #kinktober 2024 #notsfw #✏️#🧩#LOVE listening to era vulgaris as a whole and thinking about him tbh

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