#mark hoffman x fem reader

[bookloover35]

Mark Hoffman X fem reader - I won.

Yns Pov:

I won Haha, I fucking won.

I passed the test, I beat Jigsaw's test.

Everything felt like a horrible nightmare, a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

I don't remember much about how I got there, what I remember is that I was on my way home from work and then I blacked out.

Then I woke up in one of his traps.

I understand why he chose to kidnap me, I know what I did was horrible, but it was in self defense and it was either me or him.

Miss (y,l,n) miss (y,l,n).

Huh I said, looking up at the door to my hospital room.

Where one of the nurses was standing.

Yn: Yes?

Nurse: Detective Hoffman am here and want to ask you a few questions about what happened to you.

Can you bear to talk to him?

Rather not.

I already told everything to the police.

I was on my way home from work didn't even make it to my apartment, then it went black and I woke up in one of Jigsaw's traps.

The trap was like an iron maiden in chair form.

It was even a miracle that I managed to get free and that the police even managed to find me in time before I bled to death.

But I won.

Scarred for life I will be because of that bastard.

My whole body is newly covered with scars that will show what happened to me but it will also show that I am a survivor.

Yn: You can let him in.

Nurse: Okey.

I've heard a lot about Hoffman, but I've never had the honor of meeting him.

But what I've heard the most about, and it's from women, is that he's extremely handsome.

Hoffman: Miss Yn.

I looked up again and was greeted by an extremely attractive man.

Wow what women say about him is no lie.

He is really attractive even extremely hot.

What a man, wow those arms.

Yn: You must be Detective Hoffman.

Hoffman: I would like to ask you some questions.

Yn: Please I already told everything to the police.

How many times do I have to tell you everything?

Hoffman: You haven't really told us everything.

Why did he choose to take you?

Everyone's Jigsaw victim is someone who needs to be punished like that.

What have you done Yn?

I sat up carefully from the bed and put my hands on my knees sighed and said.

Yn: I killed a man in self-defense.

Dun dun the end.

[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.

[mrkheartffmans]

♡Intro♡

name: Elle

status: si-taken (idk yet)

pronouns: she/her

age: 21

all my fics are ♡here♡

writer and artist of some sort

black chubby girl so my characters will be black and chubby wubby also <3

i also rp as fem!oc x character !!

rp persona: sweet and flirty best friend. she/her, 21. be nice to her she's fragile </3

writing nono's- EVERYTHING NSFW

characters i write for: adam stanheight♡, mark hoffman, peter strahm, mike schimdt♡, and much more by request !! just ask me <3 (if i don't have basic knowledge abt a character i can't write for him)

minors/ageless blogs pls DNI

18+ only

border creds to: @cafekitsune

i do not write nsfw anymore pls do notvrequest it

[normanbateswife]

the warehouse aftermath

mark hoffman x reader

warnings: typical canon violance, saw five spoilers, plotless comfort

The silence was the worst of it. You could feel yourself needing to speak to comfort yourself. The situation seemed neverending. How long would you be stuck in this loop created by a man who knows nothing but pain. A man you had never agreed with but had gotten your boyfriend in his grips and wouldn’t let him go. It felt deafening. It felt like being cold and suddenly very warm, like a relief that you know was ill conceiving. 

You watched the warehouse with intense eyes. He had run you through it. He had told you exactly what would happen, over and over again. You enjoyed seeing him sober but it felt like he was drunk in some other vice. He was not doing this alone. He was creating half of his life with you and the other half with some shrouded mystery. Something you understood only portions of. 

“You got here fast,” you heard someone say beside you. You turned, removing your thumb from your mouth. You had been chewing at your nails anxiously, picking at the loose keratin. You recognized the face in front of you only abstractly. You knew you had seen him but you were aware of the fact that you never bothered to learn his name. Maybe you had seen him in passing on the way to Mark’s office. Maybe you had seen his picture on the wall of decorated officers. 

“I have a scanner in the house,” you said, voice more confident then you felt. Your eyes remained on the warehouse but you could feel the man looking at you. You turned to glance at him. He must have been aware of your relation with the hostage. With the kidnapper. “He didn’t answer my call. I went looking.” 

“I’m sure he’s okay,” the man said, lying through his teeth. This was Jigsaw. Jigsaw. How could he even have the heart to lie to you right then? Your distaste must have shown on your face as you moved a step forward, watching the doors. 

Finally it opened, crashing, loudly. You welcomed the break in the silence of your mind. You recognized the face of the man, despite a little girl half blocking it. He was gripping her tightly, the fear on his features half sincere. You wished you could question anything except your own relief. You pushed through the crowd and right past the man who took the little girl out of Mark’s arms. 

“What the hell man? What happened?” the man asked, a man you recognized but another you didn’t know the name of. “Where’s Riggs?” 

“I tried to help,” Mark said as you walked up. “He didn’t make it. Nobody made it.” The officer turned to grab a shock blanket for him and you wasted no time in throwing yourself into his arms. He caught you with ease, almost giving up his composure of fear. The relief of having you in his arms was genuine. It was over. It was over now. 

You didn’t speak, scared that whatever you would say would give information you didn’t mean to. He shamelessly buried his face in your neck. 

“Made it,” he grumbled against your skin. You could feel each breath reach your lungs. You could feel how cool it was, suddenly realizing just how icy the night was. You could think again. You could process information again. 

“We got a live one!” A blanket was shoved onto Mark as you pulled away in surprise. You both turned around, eager to see the survivor. Peter Strahm was on a gourney but he was alive, breathing, barely. A loose end. You glanced at Mark’s face. He was even keeled, too even. He needed to have more reaction. 

You put your hand on his shoulder. He looked back to you. 

“Let’s get you checked up,” you said, gently. He nodded once and realized his slip up as you spoke. He followed you, staying close. There was press here now, taking pictures, their bulbs flashing in your face like a mockery of your emotions. Someone sat him on the back of an ambulance. 

“I don’t need to go. I’m fine,” he said, more to the pushy nurses crowding him than to you. You knew that wasn’t true if things had gone how he planned them. Hours of sitting next to a dying man, gagged, tied, near death if one thing went wrong. 

“You need to go,” you argued. He looked up at you. You weren’t used to being higher than him but as he sat you were now subject to his gaze. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go to bed. “Let them take your vitals, make sure nothing is broken. All I have at home is a first aid kit and a high school health class,” you said gently. He smiled a bit, in exhaustion. 

The paramedics waited anxiously around you.

Mark nodded, halfheartedly. 

The pounced, holding up stethoscopes and taking the blanket off his shoulders. You took a step back, watching everything unfold. You searched for the little girl in the crowd but didn’t find her. Strahm was gone already. They had rushed him away. 

What was his trap? 

They blended together in your mind after a while. 

The water box, you recalled. You looked back at Hoffman who looked distant in his own failures. You looked at his hands through the paramedics, hands that had set someone up to die so many times. The cold ate at your skin. You move aside for a few moments, to allow for some space. 

“Hey.” You were looking away when he spoke. You breathed evenly as you fought back through the small crowd. “Can we go home now?” You looked around at the paramedics. They looked sympathetic but not worried. That made you feel better. 

“He’ll live. To be safe he should come in, in case there’s anything internal we can’t account for,” one of them said. You looked back to Mark who had pleading eyes. You weren’t worried he would create an internal injury himself. 

“I’ll monitor him like a hawk,” you promised evenly. You put your hand on his elbow, helping him stand, not that he needed it. His button up was soaked with sweat. It was drenched in the dry blood of others. 

You were walking together, slowly, to where you had parked your car. Hoffman was quiet until the doors were shut and you were both inside the silence once more. This time you were together. 

“Strahm,” he grumbled, putting his hand to his forehead. “Fucking Strahm.” He hit the dashboard and you tried not to jump. You were pulling away already, in hopes no one would see the outburst. “I locked him in there. There was no way he could-”

“Let’s not worry about that right now. They don’t know if he’ll live through the night and I doubt he knew or saw enough to puzzle piece things together.” 

“Do you always have to be the voice of reason?” he questioned, though his voice wasn’t with a tinge of anger. He was tired. You had observed that plenty of times in the few minutes he had been back to you. You needed to get home. 

“Yes,” you answered, after a long bout of silence. 

-

The home you shared with Mark Hoffman was nice, though it wasn’t fancy. It was a home. It was just his to start. It was clear now, that it was a home of two. Your things melded together. You had nothing of your own. Mark was protective and all consuming. 

It wasn’t healthy, but you didn’t mind. 

You turned the lights on as he walked in front of you. You hadn’t grabbed anything in your desperate attempt to leave the house for the warehouse. All you needed to drop was your keys and your shoes. The air inside felt stagnant, unlived in. How often were the two of you even here at the same time? At night? When your breathing was even and you were unable to revive the air? 

He discarded his clothes as he walked. The door of the bedroom opened and you followed, wordlessly, silently. The master bathroom door creaked as he pushed through it. You weren’t going to push or say anything but regardless he stopped in the archway. He had lost the once white button up already. You observed his silence. He was looking down, not directly down, but just away. 

You were opening the dresser drawer. He walked back to you and breathed heavily through his nose as he engulfed you in his arms. Your arms were folded up to hold his back, palms down against his skin. 

You recognized his breath. Deep. Slow. He was coming down and you weren’t even sure what he was coming down from. You closed your eyes, just happy to have him here again. You could be content with this right now. There was so much to be discussed but there had been enough worry for one day. 

“Go clean up before you go to bed,” you muttered against his chest. He didn’t speak immediately, nor did he move. 

“I’ve been tied up all day,” he grumbled. “Just let me stand here.” You smiled. 

“Mkay,” you hummed. You could feel the heat emanating off of him. You started to recognize the traits. The adrenaline in the thumb of his fingers, the fear in the tightness of his grip, and the accomplishment in a job done. 

You waited, quietly, for a couple moments before kissing his collarbone. You left your lips there, chastly trailing kisses. 

“Don’t start something we can’t finish,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. He pulled away finally to look at you. He held you in his arms. 

“You all sleepy Hoffman? What, did the attempted murder really wipe you out?” You leaned forward to kiss him before he could laugh but when you pulled away he was smiling. “Take a shower Lieutenant.” 

He hummed but it sounded more like a guttural type growl as you moved away from him. 

You wanted him to go to sleep so you could rest. You saw his phone on the nightstand. Had he even taken it with him today? There would likely be phone calls waking you both up in the morning, Texts from superiors, asking for a statement. You wouldn’t know peace for a couple of weeks. He would get his promotion. There would be questions from Strahm, never ending correct accusations. Newspapers asking for a quote. He would come home later. 

“You stay where you are,” he said, quietly, tiredly. 

“I’ll be here when you get out,” you promised. He watched you for a moment, trying to memorize you and then he shut the bathroom door behind him. You started to fish for your own pajamas. 

He came out of the bathroom twenty minutes later. His hair was soaked, matted down onto his head. You were in bed, only the lamp beside you was still on. He crawled under the comforter beside you. He wore only his boxers, limbs aching from the stress of the day. 

You faced him, cozying into the pillow. 

He pulled you closer to him, till you were practically in his chest. You threw an arm around him. He liked having what he needed protected. You let your eyes close slowly. 

“I love you Mark,” you muttered, brain already hazy. He kissed your forehead and you thought he whispered it back before you fell into unconsciousness. 

[oicuperp]

dating mark hoffman

(mark hoffman x fem!reader)

he leaves you for a man

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant”

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairings: Mark Hoffman x reader (fem/afab)

Rating: R (18+ only!)

Tags: finger fucking, thigh grinding, daddy kink, older man x younger woman, inappropriate boss x secretary dynamics, mild cum tasting, dadbod/chubby physique appreciation

Summary: Typical afternoon being Detective Hoffman’s tarty little secretary

Author’s notes: Written purely for self-indulgent reasons. Idk.

“Sweetheart, if you’re gonna stay there you gotta gimme a little more room to move around. I don’t wanna elbow you.” The “very broad and thick” (as you mockingly but sincerely titled him) Detective Hoffman shifted you around on his lap, pulling you by the hips like a doll. You noted how much his legs spread out on his meager rolling chair, not only to accommodate for your snug presence, but to allow for comfort for the girth of his thighs and torso.

“As if you’re not the one who sat me here in the first place. What if I just got up? Wouldn’t you just hate that?” you tutted, making the slightest motion to get up.

He yanked you back down by the waist. “No, no, I didn’t fucking mean like that. Sit down, pretty thing.”

You smirked at the term of endearment. Soft pet names seemed foreign in his stern and quiet voice, but you liked how almost begrudgingly it tapered off his full lips. He was exhausted by how sweetly teasing you could be—how distracting it all was—but would sooner stick his hand in hot coals than to let it cease.

You wiggled your tight-skirted behind against one thigh. “Oh no, but what if someone walks in? What if they don’t see me at my desk?”

This song and dance had been done before. So much so that Hoffman furrowed his brows at what a joke you were making by asking such questions.

“They gotta knock first, don’t they, darlin’? Besides, they probably already know what you’re doin’ in here.”

He continued to look down at his papers, which you guessed he was really only half-reading. Wasn’t reading files to him your job?

You feigned a gasp at his implication, trying so hard to hold back a giggle. “Oh, detective, you think the precinct thinks I’m some kind of floozy? Some kind of slut?”

“No. They think I am, which is why none of this would be a surprise, would it now, babydoll?”

Another little name that, from any other man, would sound goofy, cheap, forced. But from him? With his languid Jersey accent? It was precious.

Hoffman froze up, making a show of stopping his reading and thumbing through leaves of paper. He turned his head quite deliberately towards you, tired blue eyes meeting your gaze. “If you’re gonna keep grinding around on me like that, I might as well take a break.”

His wide, bearish palms retracted from his desk and down over your thighs, ending at the thick elastic of your stockings. He tucked his index fingers under each band and gave a little snap. “Think these are work appropriate?” His lips began slipping into that rare, lopsided smile.

“You’re the boss, and you haven’t said anything yet.” As you smirked back, you turned your body just enough to reach one hand to his side, grabbing a love handle and squeezing. He jolted from the tickle.

“You just love doing that, huh?” he grumbled, still sort of smiling but with a slight eye roll.

“It’s a weakness, I’m sorry boss.” You wrinkled your nose into a joking expression.

“You got a weakness for fat, old fucks like me? Old enough to be your dad?” He gently stilled your wandering hand with his much bigger one.

“Mmmm, maybe.” You tilted your head with a little playful frown. “I dunno, you’re looking a little thin lately. Why don’t we go to dinner? Find a way to put it on the precinct’s dollar. Call it a work dinner.”

“Yeah, they won’t bat an eye at that, I’m sure.”

You tugged at his black tie, locking your doe eyes in on his. “Well, what if I—what if we—”

He brought a free hand to your face, thumb pressing delicately on your chin. “You’re just trying to make me fatter, babydoll. I see you.” He grinned sarcastically, eyes squinting tight.

“I like having a lot to hold onto,” you pout. “You look so good, so comfy.”

He exhaled in defeat. “Fine. I’ll take us to dinner wherever you like. But what do you say?”

“Thank you.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Thank you Daddy.”

“There it is. Thank you for being a good girl for me.”

“Of course, sir.”

You had since twisted your body completely, now straddling Hoffman’s lap in your dark-shaded stockings and black heels. You began rubbing circles on the sides of his thick belly with your fingertips, playing around with the suspenders that were in the way.

As you unclasped one suspender clip, quickly moving towards his fly, he stopped you.

“What do you think you’re doin’, baby?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, “just thought…”

“You’d make a mess of that pretty face? Try sucking me off under the desk or something? No, let me take care of all this.” He smoothed his right paw down your thigh and under your tight skirt, brushing past your small, silky panties and into your folds.

Immediately you felt the teasing pressure from his chubby finger.

“Use me however you want, sweetheart,” he practically purred with his low tone, never once breaking his stare into your eyes. “I’m your toy. Your big ol’ teddy bear, yeah?”

You let yourself move a little more wildly, messily, skirt hiking up past your ass. The callusing on his fingers gave you just the right friction, just the right edge.

“There you go, doll,” he prodded you. “Gonna finish for Daddy?” The way the sentence twisted out of his lips was more than a snide tease. It was like he was trying to challenge you in return for being such a bratty distraction to him on the regular.

It was embarrassing how quickly you felt yourself get there—how quickly you felt your wetness trickle down between your thighs, between Hoffman’s fingers. You collected your exhaustion into one satisfied, blushing grin.

Hoffman slid his hand out from under you, immediately sliding a finger between his lips, tongue darting out slightly to curl around.

“I want this for dessert when we go out, yeah darlin’?”

“Yes sir,” you comply, feeling yourself blush a little harder.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Door.2 ~ Escape in winter ~

Mark Hoffman x fem!reader

warning : fluff, kiss

Summary : The game had begun, there was a winner and it wasn't the police. Hoffman had managed to outsmart the police and had taken with him the most important thing he had - his love. Together as the snowflakes covered the streets, a pair of lovers fled out in the dark.

info : The second December have fun with Hoffman and I hope you enjoy reading it

masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon stood brightly over the city from the moment it was picked up by John to the final game that brought everything to an end. The white bright moon with its cold light cast just the right shadows to be the light for shadows.

But it wasn't John who escaped the clutches of the police at night, who continued his game and judged people for their deeds for much longer.

It was above all his followers, his assistants and perhaps sometimes friends and children, but above all they were the pawns, pawns that at some point outlived their usefulness and moved across the playing field on their own.

From the moment Hoffman showed up at their apartment because of “investigations” and “connections” of mutual friends and they both quickly realized that the collaboration was more than they had thought.

That through the risks they were taking, they were working together more and more and looking out for each other, a looking out that resulted in many hours of hiding together from cool fall to winter.

A winter in which he and his beloved, the woman he recognized that she could fill this aching emptiness, ,,I won't let anyone hurt you, we can do this together, I promise you love,” he had said to her as they turned off the last cameras and loaded the sports bags with money and necessities into the car.

The evening had turned cold and only hours earlier the city police had started searching for them both after Hoffman's voice was unmasked and she had cleared the files at the station.

,,They won't get on the trail, at least it'll be a few hours before they show up,” she replied and he took one of the bags from her before closing the trunk and resting his hand on her side.

Despite the cold around them and the frozen road, it didn't seem cold between them, ,,That's my love,” he murmured, running up her side before taking her hands in his and placing a kiss on them before they pulled away from each other and got in.

The engine roared and the car moved through the streets without lights, she saw Hoffman looking straight ahead, concentrating on the streets to avoid possible police patrols.

She caught the smell of leather and smiled as she stroked Hoffman's gloves, ,,It's gotten really cold.” She tried to start a conversation and saw the smirk on his lips as he glanced briefly at her, amusement in his gaze, and he suddenly wiped a few flakes off the windshield with the wipers.

She opened the window and stretched out her hand to feel a few of the small flakes before closing the window again so that the car wouldn't get too cold.

,,Your love warms even the snow,” he suddenly said and she couldn't help but laugh at such poetry, which she wasn't used to from her love.

A laugh that even infected the older man and his hand took hers to place another kiss on it while the white snowflakes enveloped the car and the love in it and helped them to escape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@megustadilf , @librababe99 , @morimemichael , @faultlessheart , @marshmellonut

[bluekidchaos]

toxic!mark hoffman x reader

this is ass btw

Pairings: Mark Hoffman x reader (no pronouns i think but envisioned as fem)

Warnings: 18+, manipulation, panic attacks, trauma, reader was in a saw game but no actual details are there, age gap (not actually mentioned but i envisioned it so in my head and i think it adds another spicy layer to the toxicness hihi), i guess kinda dub-con bc she’s only attracted to him bc trauma and manipulation so idk

Words: 1.5k

Can also be read on AO3!

Back to masterlist.

mark isn’t handling your case directly but he sees you at the station after you had won your game and he’s mesmerized as he sees you again

he approaches you and makes sure you are ok and don't need anything

when you’re at the hospital he visits you as much as possible, offering a shoulder to cry on and to listen when you talk about what happened (or anything really) 

he sneaks you non-hospital food and drinks and keeps you comfortable

when you get released he gives you his personal phone number and tells you to call or text whenever and he’ll respond as soon as you can

you’re a bit hesitant at first, i mean he’s already done so much for you and now he’s letting you bother him off the clock?

but he insists that it’s ok, the first text comes late that night, just a small thank you for everything

the next few calls and texts are few and far between but as he keeps reassuring you it's okay you feel comfortable calling him more, sometimes just to chat about random stuff

you’d consider him a friend at this point and you meet up a month later for coffee, you mention feeling paranoid in your apartment, it’s where you were taken after all and he tells you there's nothing to worry about but to call if anything happens

a night or so after the meet you call him in the middle of the night, he can tell you’ve been crying by your hoarse voice and the sniffles coming through the phone

“what’s wrong?” he fakes a tired voice. “i’m s-sorry, did i- did i wake you?” you almost sob out. “no, not at all, are you okay?” worry clear in his tone, “i can’t stay here, i keep seeing shadows move in every corner and i constantly feel like someones watching me.” you blurt it all out in one breath. 

mark tries his best not to let the smirk betray his voice, “alright, you’re alright. i..” he pauses “i might have a suggestion but please tell me if i'm crossing a boundary here.” he knows you won’t say no but he’s gotta keep up the act a bit longer

“please, anything, i don't know what to do anymore, i haven’t slept in days.” you sound so desperate for his help and he has to stop himself from groaning into the phone, “you can sleep at mine tonight, i’ll take the couch and then i’ll help you find a new place okay?” 

your heart misses a beat, and you wanna take the offer the second it leaves his lips but the thought of putting him on the couch in his own home stops you, “i can’t do that, i mean you shouldn’t have to do that”

“it’s fine, it won't be forever” he gives a little laugh that reassures you, “just until we find you a new place ok?”

you resing your hesitation, you’re too exhausted to argue ���okay..thank you” mark smiles again, this time not caring as much if it's noticeable “alright, text me your address and i’ll come and pick you up right away, and pack a bag.” 

you hang up and text him the address and start packing as he said

mark already knows where you live of course but you don't need to know that, he waits in his car for the time it would have taken him to drive from his to you before stepping out of the car and going up to your door and pressing the buzzer, “i’ll be right down!” he hears you say through the door phone before it flashes green and he steps inside and waits for you

you come down the stairs fast, he can tell you haven’t slept in a while, the bags under your eyes the biggest indicator

he grabs the bag from you and escorts you to his car before driving the two of you to his place

it’s the first night you sleep through all the way, feeling safe as mark is just outside on the couch and you're surrounded by the smell of him and his things

the next morning you wake up by mark shuffling around in the room clearly trying to be quiet but he notices you stirring and goes still “shit, sorry i was trying not to wake you” you sit up and groggily rub your eyes, “what time is it?” he walks over to his dresser and grabs some sock out of it, you notice now he isn’t wearing a shirt, only some sleep short and you turn your gaze away, a bit flustered, “5.30 am, sorry i’m just getting ready for work. you should go back to sleep.” 

oh, work, right he has a life to live, now you feel extra stupid for taking his offer, depriving him of sleep when he has to get up and work, stupid. but it’s like he can tell what you’re thinking, “hey, you go back to sleep and stay here today alright? you can use my computer to look at apartments if you want.” you nod and lay down again, and you fall asleep before he’s out the door.

that evening when he walked through the door he was met with the most delicious smell as you greeted him from the kitchen, “i thought i’d at least make myself useful while im here so i made dinner” he walked over to the stove and to a deep breath, he probably hadn’t smelt anything this good in years. “wow, it smells really amazing, thank you, darling.”

the name made your stomach flutter, and you blushed at his praise, “oh it’s nothing"

the next 2 months consisted of you and mark living together, you cooked and cleaned while he was at work, making sure he always came home to a warm meal, he would go with you to look at apartments and give his advice and opinion when asked. you really appreciated it, he always knew when an area was unsafe or not and you seemed to be quite unlucky in your search as all the places you found were either in unsafe areas or unsafe apartments, you didn’t really understand that but you trusted marks opinion on your safety and if he didn’t deem it safe for you you didn’t take it. 

you and mark had also gotten closer during this time, he’d care for you through your nightmares and panic attacks, and he’d hold you while you cried yourself to sleep and stay all night in bed with you. you were so lucky to have mark, he really cared for you, he'd seen you at your worst but still cared. he’d kissed you one night while comforting you, it caught you off guard a bit but you craved his affection and touch. it was the first time you had sex. 

you tried your best to go out and be a part of society but it always felt like someone lurked in the shadows, ready to get you at any moment. sometimes you called mark in a panic bc it felt like someone was following you, 

he gladly came to get you every time, lamenting on about how you had to be careful and there were dangerous people out there, he would always bring up some case he was working on as examples, eventually you stopped trying to go out on your own

you had realised one night while looking at places together that you didn’t want to live without mark, couldn’t live without him, the thought alone made your chest squeeze and your breath heavy. he could tell you were having another panic attack and pulled you into his arms immediately soothing you, “hey, hey what’s wrong?” he pushed some hair behind your ear to get a better look at you.

your glazed and teary eyes find his and the look you give him makes him have to bite back a moan, he always loved seeing you like this, panicked, desperate for his comfort, only he could calm you down, “i can’t live without you, i don’t feel safe if you're not around, how am i supposed to be on my own, i need you there!” you practically wail at him in your hysteria, clinging to him like your life depended on it and to you it felt that way

mark only held you closer and ran his hands soothingly up and down your back, “shh, shh, it’ll be alright. you don’t have to move out if you don’t want to, i don’t mind having you here. i’d feel better with you near me too.”

“really?” you barely get the word out between sobs, “yeah, i mean we’re together anyways so moving together officially maybe isn’t that dumb. and it’s a dangerous world out there, how am i supposed to protect you if i'm not with you?”

you nodded in a haze, “thank you, thank you, i’m safe with you” you cried as you buried your face in his chest again and he continued stroking your back

you couldn’t see the smile on his face as he finally had you exactly where he wanted you

paranoid and afraid of the world around you, only trusting of him, your love

[tangerinesgirl]

Fowl Play

Chapter 1

Fem!Reader x Mark Hoffman x Eric Newlon

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: DEAD DOVE, dark fic, non con, pet names, reader in saw trap, violence, no smut (yet), stockholm syndrome

Summary: Eric is back and has enlisted the help of Mark to resume where he left off. Killing people involved in the Black Friday massacre with rigged jigsaw traps.

Notes: Set after the events of Saw 3D and Thanksgiving, no one knows John Carver's identity. I also came up with my original Saw trap for this one which was fun. Currently writing chapter two where things get steamier. I hope you enjoy!

Edit: This fic has now been discontinued, thanks everyone for your continued support.

You jump awake at the sounds of gears churning, unsure what is going on or how exactly you ended up here. You instantly recognise the abandoned Rightmart, the place where all those people were killed a few years ago on Black Friday. The place tried to reopen a few times but it was doomed since that night, people would never forget... you would never forget. You look down and see that you’re sitting on something resembling a pommel horse, with two massive steel black boots on both feet, forcing you into place, but also forcing your weight down after each churn of the cogs. Your hands are also tied behind your back with police handcuffs.

Suddenly you remember all the newspaper articles recently saying that John Carver was back, despite dying in a fire a year ago, the guy behind the Thanksgiving killings on a revenge mission. You just so happened to be in the store on that Black Friday night, but you hid in the clothing section, waiting for it to pass over, you wouldn’t hurt a fly, never mind kill anyone! Why you? 

The cogs start turning faster, and you can feel some of your bones starting to shift and you start to scream and panic. Looking down, you notice the machinery could be in arms reach. You contort yourself to try and wedge the handcuffs in the middle of a cog and *SNAP* they break in half.

You immediately bring your hands up to the seat to try and shift your weight onto them, to give your hips a break. You try to tip the horse over with your weight, but it’s drilled to the floor. You put on a brave face and decide try and break the machinery somehow. You bend back down and you swear you can hear the cogs moving faster again. You panic and decide to just lodge your left hand in the machinery and hope for the best. The thick steel part of the handcuff on your wrist jams a cog for long enough for you to reach with your other hand to unscrew it.

You groan as the blood rushes to your head as you remove the wheel, sitting back up. You let out a deep sigh, thinking you’ve escaped and stopped the machine, but to your surprise, it keeps going. You panic again and start to smash at the metal boots with all your strength to free yourself. The sweat and the blood from your hand made freeing your foot from the first boot surprisingly easy as it just slips out. As you dented the metal of the boot, the cog also broke, so you pick up the boot, swing yourself over, and start smashing the other boot with it. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally break loose and collapse to the floor, letting out a guttural scream as you realise you’ve narrowly avoided death. You realise you don’t have time to sit and cry about it, and need to move to safety. As you stand, your hips struggle to realign themselves, are they broken? Tough shit. Your wrist is still bleeding out but you can worry about that later, you’re more concerned how you’re going to walk out of here.

You wobble quickly through the abandoned store to the main exit. Locked. Of course it wouldn’t be that simple. You jump as you hear a fire exit opening from behind you, and dash to the same clothes aisle you hid that Black Friday night. 

“Clever girl”.

Your eyes widen as you realise you know the voice. The town Sheriff. You’ve always had a little crush on him, even if he did try to literally crush you in return just now. Under normal circumstances, if he had called you a clever girl, you would have been turned on. You can hear his footsteps pacing the empty store. He picks up something off the ground, every urge of your body is telling you to turn around and see what it is, but you don’t. You sit solid in fear, covering your mouth to try and regulate your breathing. You can hear him chuckle slightly, how can he laugh seeing you like this? The sick bastard.

“Shame you weren’t clever enough to cover your tracks”.

You look down and see the blood from your wrist leading directly to your hiding spot. You grab a jumper from a hanger and quickly bandage your hand, and quietly get up to find another exit. Luckily it’s pretty dark, and you have no shoes on, so you can cover the noise from your walking pretty well. You stick closely to the wall, trying to feel for another exit, what little light you had disappearing the further back into the shop you went. You feel a door handle, so you slowly and quietly open it. You try to peer inside when suddenly you feel a rush of pain to your face, sending you a few steps backwards, straight into Sheriff Newlon, wielding an axe. He puts his arms around your waist, using the axe to lift you up off the floor as you kick and scream trying to free yourself. 

“Aw did you really think I would go this alone after the last time? Cute.”

As the Sheriff carries you back the way you came, you can see the face of his accomplice as the security lights outside occasionally flicker to his face. It’s a new detective on the police force, you’ve seen him around before. Then it dawns on you. It’s the guy who was proven to be the jigsaw killer all those years ago. Mark Hoffman. How did no one see this? Maybe they did, and the whole police force is in on this operation. A grim thought. But you’re speculating here. 

The Sheriff slams you back on the floor in the room you just escaped from. You try to get up but he threatens you with the axe, hovering very close to your neck. 

“Don’t even think about it princess”.

Damn it, why does he use pet names for you like this? Your body betrays you as his voice makes you shiver. The Stockholm Syndrome isn’t helping the fact that you actually like this guy in real life.

“You know it’s a shame your contraption didn’t break her hips, Mark”, the Sheriff's gaze still fixed on you.

The Detective speaks up, “You’re right, we will just have to break them another way”.

He bends down to look into your eyes, wiping away your tears. 

“You look very pretty when you cry”. 

You spit on his face, making him flinch slightly. He looks back at you and smiles. 

“I think we can have a little fun with this one”, he says, addressing the Sheriff.

[bookloover35]

Mark Hoffman X fem reader- All it takes its one bad day (2).

Where we left off.

Hoffman: What happened that night miss Yn.

Yn: You could say that all it takes is on bad day.

Back to the story.

Yn: What more can I say.

I cracked and had enough and I have no regrets.

Should have killed the bastard a long time ago.

Then my mother would still be alive.

I told him sighing leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.

As I said nothing regrets the pig deserved it.

He was a pig.

Hoffman: Tell me what happend.

I sighed again and began to tell about that night.

Yn: I got out of bed to drink water.

And when I came into the kitchen, he was standing there covered in blood over my mother's dead body.

He held a bloody knife in his hand looked up at me and said "your turn".

At times like these, a normal person would have run from there, called the police.

But for me it turned black.

The last thing I remember is the police taking me away in handcuffs, covered in blood and defense injuries.

People say I killed both my mother and stepfather.

But my mother was already dead when I went down to the kitchen.

Yes, I killed someone, so if you're going to arrest me, do it for the murder of my stepfather, not my mother.

Hoffman: I believe you Yn.

But I will need to talk to you again soon.

He said to me and stood up.

Then I leaned forward and licked my lips in a flirtatious manner and answered him back.

Yn: I look forward to our next meeting.

He opened the door and called in two policemen who were to accompany me out.

I got up from my chair and looked at the handsome detective and told him before walking out of there.

Yn: Has anyone ever told you that you are extremely sexy Detective Hoffman.

The end.

[coryosbaby]

♡ Content warning . 18+ mdni, nsfw under the cut, mentions of knife play, daddy kink, dark yandere themes ig?? be warned

Can’t stop thinking about Mark putting all his weight on top of you after a long day :( knowing that you’re so needy and desperate for him, and the instant that he walks through the door you’re already naked and on your knees waiting for him. Just an obedient, cockdrunk little slut the moment he gets his big cock inside of you, and you can’t do anything but take it.

“daddy’s here, baby, never gonna leave you alone this long again.”

“yeah? Is daddy pounding those princess parts good?”

“Oh, baby. Daddy’s got you, shh shhh…”

his tummy, soft and plush and oh so perfect, presses against yours as he pounds your guts. He really tries not to put all his weight on you, but he’s so tired and you’re making him feel so good like the perfect little girl you are and he can’t help it— he presses into you, rests his bulging arms on either side of your shoulders as he forces his hard cock past your teeny tiny walls. Your eyes rolling back, small whimpers leaving you as you call out, “daddy! Daddy!”

He can’t help but fuck you harder at that, and on your end it’s getting hard to breathe because he’s so much bigger than you and he’s so heavy— but it feels so good, your little swollen lips wrapped tightly around your daddy’s big cock, his deep voice growling in your ear about how much of a good little fucktoy you are. It’s not long before you’re squirting, soaking the sheets in your warm, wet arousal as he bullies his slick coated cock in and out of your pussy <3

But he doesn’t stop there, no. Daddy’s got a lot of stamina tonight, people at the office have been making him mad and asking questions about where you are and he needs to let it out somehow. So soon he’s got you on top of him, full Nelson style, pounding your guts. His muscle-y hands wrapped around your head, also holding your ankles over your ears. Pounding and pounding, abusing your raw fucked hole as he whispers out that nickname you love so much.

“Bunny… such a good little bunny.”

“Take that cock, you dumb bunny.”

His balls hitting your freshly spanked thighs, your mouth watering at the sight of the heavy sacks as you watch them slap against your creamy little pussy.

He cums inside you more than once, making sure to fill his baby up to his heart’s content. His cum, white and stringy, connecting to your used cunt and his fat cock as he moves in and out, in and out <3

He uses his favorite pocket knife to cut his initials into your lower back as he takes you for a third time, your ass in the air like a little whore waiting to be bred. He licks up your blood with his tongue, groaning at the taste and getting lost in his deranged thoughts. Tweaking your nipples, maybe even putting some clamps on them— it’s up to you! But either way, you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. You’ll stay here, getting filled and fucked and bred until Mark is satisfied, only being saved from those torturous jigsaw traps all those months ago to be his own personal fleshlight. It’s all you’re good for <3

[slash-me-please]

HIHIHI I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AND I SAW THAT YOUR WILLING TO WRITE FOR AMANDA YOUNG BUT IF YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT THATS COMPLETELY OKAY ALSO!!

Can you do jealous Amanda x Fem reader? Somewhere around reader and Amanda having a complicated relationship and reader is an apprentice. Another apprentice flirts around with reader and Amanda doesn’t like it at all :$ Also some NSFW but if your not in the mood for it you don’t have to add it!

I hope you have an amazing day 😋😊

I love writing for Amanda!!!! I'm so happy to be getting more fem requests because I am a gay mf. Anyways on with the story.

-In the event that Michael Marks survived, he has became an apprentice. Michael Marks. Yknow, the key in the eyeball guy. So, let's begin.

A Deeper Understanding

Warnings: Literally nobody getting along, Jealous!Amanda, Cursing, Threatening, Fingering, Domish!Amanda, Getting Caught

John Kramer had collected quite the assortment of a team. He hoped at least one of you would continue his legacy perfectly. He'd make sure before he died that he'd live on through the lot of you. You were all currently at the workshop, bullshitting about random tests and other people you were interested in "helping". There was about four of you there, Dr. Gordon couldn't make it, like usual. Michael Marks had been your second choice, Gordon has always been your first.

His eyes traveled down your body, a look that made you feel a certain type of way, not a good way. He was your partner though, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. "I'm glad everyone is here," John smiled a thin smile, Jill stood across from him, eyes trained on his every move. You knew that it'd been hard on her since his diagnosis. "I need your help with the scalping seat, I'm not sure it'll get done on time." He took a pause, "I've had some other things to tend to, my apologies."

He hadn't been looking at you, you weren't the mechanic of the group. John looked to you for ideas for traps. You had a knack at creating a symbolic test, one which would change the looks of the masses. Michael stepped forwards, eyes lingering on you for too long for someone who had just needed to build a trap. "I used to work as a car technician before Homeward Bound," He said, bending down and looking through the gears. "Unless Hoffman can do better." Hoffman wasn't much for Michael, he stayed silent.

"Nobody wants you to touch anything, you hardly beat your test. I don't know why John even wants you here because you're obviously not even serious about him." Amanda stood from her spot near John, she walked forwards and towered over Michael- only for Michael to size her up. "What are you even talking about?" He barked, his chest puffing. "Amanda calm down, we need to finish this trap. Brenda's test is what matters." John corrected her, his composure was always impenetrable. "No John! Have you seen this guy? He's been eye-fucking Y/N since we got here!"

Amanda's fists clenched as she yelled back at John. She seemed ready to blow a fuse, and you were thankful for it. "As far as I am concerned, He has not said anything to Y/N that has made her uncomfortable." "But-" "No, we'll deal with him later, we have to focus on the contraption now, we'll deal with him later. I need you to act level-headed if you're going to carry out my legacy." Amanda huffed, speeding past the group and into the hallway. "Amanda!" You yelled after her, jumping down from the table and following after her.

You found yourself in a grimy hallway, off to the side was an opening to what you presumed was where Amanda had went off to. You stepped forward, watching as the curtains to the archway swayed back and forth. "Amanda?" You called, and she opened the swaying curtains as you stood in front of them. "Finally got enough of Mr. Fuck-me eyes?" You shook your head. "We're not... doing anything." She nodded, stepping away to move back to a decaying workstation. You saw she had her reverse bear trap on the table, she seemed to be fixing something wrong with it.

"What are you doing to it?" You wondered, she glanced over at you for a moment. "John gave it to me to fix, fucking Hoffman took it somewhere and it broke." She gulped. "I hate this thing, but I'm about finished." Amanda was grumbling as she fixed her trap, she seemed elsewhere and you could tell that this was a coping mechanism for her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, and with a sigh she sneered. "I just don't understand why Michael is even here, he hardly completed his test and he's an asshole y'know?" Her voice elevated, and she turned towards you. "He's awful and I just don't understand why he can't leave you alone!" Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening as she stared right at you. "Uh-" But you cut her off, hands coming up to hold her face. It happened to turn out that she would be the one to press forward and kiss you. She only let it escalate from there when her hand moved to reach under your shirt and pull you flush against her chest.

Her nails dug into the plush of your stomach skin when she picked you up and placed you on the workbench, shoving the bear trap off to the side. Amanda placed kisses on your collarbone as you worked to pull your shirt off, and in the heat of the moment she found herself dizzy with lust. She had been dreaming about this moment since you joined the group, and she thought she might've entered her dreamworld when you finally got your shirt off. "You're fucking perfect," She mumbled, the androgynous tang of her voice flowed through your core and straight between your legs. You opened them right up.

Amanda leaned forward, tongue landing flat on your nipple and sucking at it until it pressed hard against the pad of her tongue. With her left hand, she groped you passionately, and she praised how you fit in her hand perfectly. You had leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head as she pushed your skirt up and over your ass, eager to get where she had wanted to touch most. You blessed her with it, gripping the edge of rotten wood when she hooked her long fingers inside your heat. "Shit..." She mumbled, her left hand dropping your tit to push you back by the stomach. You stumbled back against the wood with a whine, biting onto your left hand as the other gripped her wrist.

Amanda watched with an intense gaze as you moaned into your hand, she was more than interested, her left hand moving to rub circles on your clit as she fingered you. Your hips pushed against her fingers, desperate to feel more of her as she pleasured you- you knew her thoughts of Michael Marks were gone by now, her gaze enraptured by the way your cunt sucked her in. She felt herself becoming devoted as she listened to the gasps and whimpers you released of her name- you felt the same.

She began to kiss your hips as your legs shook around her fingers and your whines became more noticeable. Amanda gathered she had to be doing something right, her ego inflating as you rode her hand. "You're doing so well Y/N," She whispered, the fingers on your clit speeding up. You cried out, "I'm so close..." yelping when she pushed her fingers deeper and shushed you. You felt your insides clench and twitch, legs spreading wider as you held her wrist against your sex- whining out a flurry of "Thank yous," While you finished on her hand.

Finally, you leaned back down, huffing against your hand. You reached out to maybe grab her, and she reached to pull her shirt off. Unluckily, she didn't make it far when you heard Michael open the curtains, halfway through his sentence. "I'm sorry Amanda, I didn't- oh!" His eyes landed on you, and you yelped, flailing to cover your body as he stared.

Amanda's lip twitched in annoyance, pulling your skirt down with a little bit of attitude. You knew it wasn't directed at you though. "If you do not get the fuck out of my office, I will literally blow your brains out Michael."

And he turned around, scurrying down the hallway. Amanda turned back to you, giving you a happy kiss on the lips. "Maybe we can arrange a date this week?"

[jiggy-manda]

hiiii

please write about Amanda Young x fem!reader :)

she gets very jealous and furry when someone flirts with us :)))))

jealous!amanda young x fem!reader

warnings: none… age gap kinda? obv amanda is in her 30s but reader is in her 20s so just take that how you will

wc: 1.6k

your situation with jigsaw and the apprentices was… different.

you weren’t an apprentice, per se, but you also weren’t completely a victim; you floated around somewhere in between. like a middle-man, almost. you were never directly involved with the crimes, though you were definitely knowledgeable of them. you’d been tested as well, but for some reason it seemed like your test wasn’t… as brutal.

you’d talked to amanda a few times, mainly when you were begging to be let go and she was busy laughing at you. some part of you kind of thought she went easy on you, but you couldn’t tell if that was true or if it was just you making up things to cope with what had happened.

ever since your test, you’d been staying with john and the apprentices— which you later learned was not normal for other jigsaw victims. you never found out why, but there was always a slight feeling in your brain that the lingering looks from his female apprentice had something to do with it.

either way, it was something you chose not to dwell on because you knew it would only lead to more questions and more disappointment.

it felt pointless to continue stewing over it, so for the next few minutes you continued on in your notebook, writing down different plans john or the apprentices had mentioned over time and looking over the new list of people and their offenses.

you were so busy reading a file on some new contraption that you didn’t even notice the shadowy figure suddenly hovering above you.

mark hoffman was perched on the side of your desk with one leg hanging off the edge. “what are you working on?”

amanda quietly scoffed at his presence from her makeshift bedroom, a bit in shock that you would even entertain the man. you, on the other hand, were just looking for a way to exit the conversation with him.

looking up at mark, you quickly realized he was way too close— you could smell his cologne, or lack thereof.

she tried not to keep looking at you, but amanda couldn’t help but stare. she smirked as she watched, noting how you subtly crinkled your nose when he leaned towards you.

amanda has never liked hoffman. hoffman, not mark— she’d never dare give him the pleasure of addressing him by his name. she never liked him, but she disliked him even more when he interacted with you. in the back of her mind, a small part of her thought he just continued to talk to you simply to piss her off. he’s not completely clueless; he knows how to push amanda’s buttons. he’d probably talk to you even if he didn’t like you just to fuel his vendetta against the small brunette.

she didn’t like it when he was around you.

“…oh, you know. just, traps and stuff, i guess…”

“you guess?” he laughed at that. “c’mon sweetheart, you gotta have more confidence than that.”

you sighed, setting down the pencil you’d been holding to look up at him. “do you need something, mark?”

“oh come on, don’t be like that,” he replied. “you barely talk to any of us! i’m just trying to get to know you.”

you looked down at the hands you had eventually clasped and set against your desk. you then gave him a tight smile. “okay… what do you want to know?”

he grinned. “you got a boyfriend?”

you instinctively recoiled back, hoping the disgust you felt didn’t show on your face. if you asked amanda, she would’ve said it did— but she wasn’t even watching, of course not.

taking a moment to clear your throat, you met his gaze to respond. “no, i don’t.”

the brooding woman in her makeshift bedroom finally spoke up, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “but i’m sure she’d love to hear a proclamation of love from a man twice her age.”

he turned his head towards amanda, the force of his movements causing even his body to shuffle. “can’t you just mind your business?” he shot back.

you were planning on jumping in, eventually— but the decision of what to say was still playing around in your mind. to be fair, you were in a borderline cult of serial killers, so your sexual preferences really should be the least of their concerns.

“whatever you say, old man. im just pointing out the obvious, that’s all. i don’t think a woman your age would even go for you, honestly.” the corner of amanda’s lip turned into a grin when she saw mark’s hand twitch.

“you know what, smartass?” he said, slamming his palms on your desk as he stood up. “you wanna say that again? what the hell is your problem?”

amanda pushed herself off of the perch she called a bed. “you’re my problem, asshat. you think you’re so much better than me and everyone else just because you’re some high class detective who’s never failed a drug test in his life,” she spat out.

mark got closer to amanda, nearly backing her up to one of the desks close by. at this point, your brain had finally started working again, so you rushed to get between the two.

“okay, can we please be a bit rational here?”

you were facing mark, watching as the upper part of his mouth twitched, and you just managed to keep a straight face when amanda mumbled something about ‘his lip injections going haywire.’

“and can you please sit down?” you finally addressed both of them. they both grumbled as they made their own separate ways to take their places.

clearing your throat, you returned to your seat and ran your hands through your hair. “she’s not completely wrong,” you said as you faced the man who’d started this whole thing. “i don’t mind if someone’s older than me,” you started, looking back at amanda to correct her comment.

you looked back at mark, studying his face before finishing your statement. “but i don’t date men.”

amanda, for once, was happy your attention was focused on mark and not herself. she did not need you to see the shock (intrigue) on her face at that revelation.

mark just stared at you for a few moments, not quite sure what to say.

“oh.”

“yeah,” you started, your face starting to heat up at all the attention on you. it didn’t help that the topic of the matter was your sexuality and love life. “so. um… yeah.”

“then… you got a girlfriend?”

amanda perked up at this, wishing she could appear less interested.

“nope,” you let out with a sigh. “but it’s whatever. i like it here anyways, working on traps and helping out.”

“sure,” he said, scanning the room. it seemed like he didn’t really know what to do at that point… it was clear that flirting with you was his only objective, so it’s not like you had anything else to talk about. “i’m gonna go ask john about one of the next traps but i’ll be back soon.”

you nodded, while amanda gave a “yeah, whatever.” you tried not to laugh at their back-and-forth demeanor. it was clear they didn’t like each other— though, you weren’t a very big fan of mark either. you had a hard time believing anyone was, really.

amanda, however… you weren’t quite sure how to feel about her. you never interacted much; mark made more of an effort to talk to you, and you didn’t even like him. if anything, you were confused by amanda.

she didn’t really talk to you, but for some reason it was like she didn’t want anyone else talking to you either. on the rare times that she did give you more than a few minutes of her attention, she would snap at anyone who interrupted the conversation— anyone besides john, of course.

“so you’re gay?”

the question struck you out of your thoughts, nearly making you jump. you turned and faced amanda completely, pausing a few minutes to take in her presence.

“yeah.”

“cool.”

a few silent seconds passed before amanda spoke again with a slight smile playing at her face. “me too.”

“yeah?” you tilted your head, meeting her eyes.

“yeah… and i really didn’t like seeing hoffman flirt with you,” she replied.

you paused, not sure whether you should push it any further. “amanda young,” you said with a dramatic gasp. “were you… jealous?”

she immediately scoffed, rolling her eyes where she stood. “you wish.”

“i think you were,” you replied, taking a step closer. you tilted your head to the side and looked into her eyes. “i’m not stupid, amanda. you’re not subtle in the way you snap at everyone who tries to interact with me.”

her face slightly flushed at that. “that’s not true,” she sputtered out. “i snap at everyone.”

“pfft, yeah, whatever,” you let out.

“im serious,” she said, taking hold of your arm. you looked down at your arm and then back up at her, raising your brow. she quickly let go of it and brought her arm back. “i just don’t like people,” she reasoned. “it’s nothing personal.”

“sure.”

“whatever,” she huffed out. if looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under by now. you didn’t know a small body could hold so much rage, but you figured you’d save the psychoanalytics for later.

it was clear that you’d gotten under her skin, and a small part of you felt a bit of pride that you’d gotten the usually stoic girl to stutter and blush.

you grinned, making your way back to your desk covered in blueprints and plans. “and amanda,” you started. “let me know if you ever want to… collaborate.”

a/n: yayyyy more amanda fics 😙😙 this was really fun to write <3 i might make another part? idk i feel like leaving the ending open was kinda fun 🫣

[love-dilfs]

˚ ༘ 🕯️𖦹⋆｡˚ Rules

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Rules

I. I'm just starting to write, so if you send me a request and I don't answer soon, don't be mad at me, I try to write in my free time but I will always read your requests.

II. I only write for fem!reader and maybe gn!reader.

III. Always be kind and respectful, don't forget to say please and thank you.

IV. English is not my first language so if you ask me something try to explain it so I understand better.

V. I write fluff and smut and maybe headcanons.

VI. Requests are open!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Don’t write

I. I don’t write about real celebrities, hybrid! Reader/mutant!reader(only in the x-men world I write of mutant reader), pegging, murder, pedophilia, necrophilia and every strange and nasty fetish.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Characters I write

જ⁀➴ American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Violet Harmon

Kit Walker

Kyle Spencer

Jimmy Darling

James Patrick March

Kai Anderson

Winter Anderson

જ⁀➴ Josh Hutcherson characters

Sean Anderson

Mike Schmidt

Peeta Mellark

Clapton Davis

Josh Futturman

જ⁀➴ Others

Logan Howlett

Peter Maximoff

Mark Hoffman

Slashers

Carl Grimes

Newt(tmr)

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Sirius Black(marauders era)

Remus Lupin(marauders era)

Peter Parker(tasm)

Prince Caspian

Edmund Pevensie

Young!Coryolanus Snow

Will Byers

Eddie Munson

Robby Keene

Miguel Díaz

Johnny Lawrence

Daniel Larusso

Anakin Skywalker

Stranger things characters

It’s all, hope ur ok💗

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant” Pt 4

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairing: Mark Hoffman x fem/afab reader

Rating: R (just because of what it’s leading into for the next part)

Warnings/Tags: older man x younger woman dynamic (consensual though, obviously guys); boss x secretary relations; mild daddy kink; implication of face riding; bratty behavior; switch behavior (for both characters I reckon); mild body worship; slightly heavier with the feeding kink and fat fetishism here

Summary: You use overtime hours as an excuse to fool around in your apartment.

Author’s Notes: Same as usual—sorry for errors I guess. The dialogue feels cornier in this one but I mean, I imagine that’s how Hoffman talks when he’s not being serious. The man is a goober.

There was a debriefing in the main conference room first thing in the morning. Not necessarily related to “THE big case” (as the Jigsaw situation was often referred to as), but something slightly less significant, for the benefit of the rookies. A little training wheels bit for them.

It looked a little strange to have you of all people hovering in the corner—and you agreed. There wasn’t a need for your presence. In fact, you probably should have stayed at your station, manning any missed calls or appointments coming through for Hoffman. But the boss specifically requested you to tag along, under the guise of taking notes or something cheap and easy to write off. Something people wouldn’t question. Not that the precinct didn’t have a notion about Hoffman’s slutty nature and inclinations towards his younger assistant.

“I just wanna have your eyes on me,” Hoffman had told you beforehand with a sassy wink (usually saved for charming more pestering representatives from the public). “I gotta make sure I look good up at the podium.” He had lightly pinched your cheek before opening the door to a sea of badges and black uniforms.

And look good he did. In your opinion, at least.

Hoffman’s slow, smooth trickle of words tranquilized you, even if he was talking boring, technical shit. You chewed at the tip of your pen, corner of your lips curling up, as you noted the way his belly rolled forward against his starched gray fabric, just enough to press against the podium’s edge with a gentle bump as he shifted around. He absentmindedly scratched at the broad sides of his gut or made a gesture of adjusting how his pants rested on his waist—things he knew would catch your attention. He was cheekily doing it all on purpose. He had definitely rounded out since you had started working for him—just adding to the comfortable softness he already possessed from genetics and long hours behind his desk (feet usually propped up with a sugary coffee nearby).

As he spoke, you noticed also how gentle the curves of his face had gotten: chin ever-so-slightly chubbier, cheeks looking fuller against his plush lips and prominent cheekbones. It was cute. You ate up how a man who stalked around with such an intense and lumbering presence was really just a big fat teddy bear (one who whose lips were always sweetened by donuts and goofy flirtations towards you).

You finished fake-scribbling notes in your pad as the meeting was dismissed.

“Did I look okay?” Hoffman inquired as he shuffled beside you, making it look as if he was filling you in on some important task.

“You look so good, pookie.”

“Cool it with the ‘pookie’.”

“Sorry, Hoffy.”

“Fucking ‘Hoffy’, okay… That’s fine.” He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t relent with the babying terms. “I have to go to Sacred Heart Hospital this evening to ask about some records. I could use your help obtaining and tracking those documents, if you don’t mind.”

“What if I mind? What if I’m busy tonight?”

Hoffman leaned in with that shit-eating, stiff smile that only ever oozed out when he was frustrated. “It’s your job, darlin’. You don’t have a choice and you know it. I think you’re just being a brat again.” He pulled back, still all casual smirks.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What’s in it for you? The job you get paid to do—what’s in it for you, baby?”

“I mean, you would be keeping me after hours. What kind of overtime am I getting?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his pointed nose, and then lightly chuckled. “I’ll drive you home.”

“And stay for a drink?” you prodded.

“Sure, darlin’,” he agreed.

——

Retrieving the information Hoffman needed was so menial that he hardly needed you. Though you knew your penmanship and attention to detail was a little more experienced, you still had to wonder how he had gotten things done things before hiring you.

Back at your apartment, you hesitated with the next step—not sure whether to pull the classic “Let me change into something more comfortable”, or let your boss work his way to peeling your office clothes off. All in all, you decided to just let things take a gradual, natural course.

“You said you’d stay for a drink, right sir?” you peeped as your boss hovered around aimlessly behind you, taking in your décor and tchotchkes. He seemed lightly amused by all the little details.

“Just a small one. You know I don’t drink that much anymore, baby.”

“Yes sir.”

He had settled onto your modest couch, leaning back heavily, lap spread (and honestly inviting). You scuttled your way over, working between his legs as you often did. It was your favorite spot, after all.

You put the glass in his hand and immediately went to loosening his dark necktie… followed by undoing the buttons of his straining shirt until the flesh between his pecs was exposed.

“Didn’t realize I was getting the gold star treatment tonight,” Hoffman grinned languidly through a sip of bourbon.

“I just wanna dote on you a little. So don’t let it go to your big head. This is more for me.”

“Such a sassy little thing.”

“Takes one to know one.” You grabbed his hand, still gripping the glass, a treated yourself to a drink.

Your eyes raked over Hoffman’s big form, which remained so deliciously comfortable and pliant under you. You inspected him with your smaller hands: combing gentle black wisps of hair from his eyes, padding your thumb across his lower lip, booping his nose and giggling softly.

“See something you like?”

“Yeah, all of it,” you answered. “Everything about you is so big, so sturdy.” You knew the saccharine onslaught probably sounded ridiculous and corny (and would probably merit some teasing later) but you couldn’t help it. “Your big nose, these big, soft lips…” Your hand trailed down to the cleft between his pecs, a finger tracing over his pink scar. “This strong chest with these broad shoulders.” Your palms drifted further down, caressing his sides down to his legs. “These sturdy thighs I get to sit on… And my favorite: this big pillow.” You dug your fingers into the sides of his belly, jolting a tickled reaction out of him (which only made his belly wobble all the more under your touch).

“Oh, you’re in trouble, babydoll,” Hoffman bit, tone both playful but snide. He set the near-empty glass down by the lamp table and slammed you onto your back threateningly quick, your legs suddenly hooked through his arms. “Does this do it for you?”

He leaned down, doubled over your splayed legs, and pressed his gut against your crotch. The pressure was so heavy and warm, making you shamefully throb quicker than you cared to admit.

“Is that what you need, babydoll? A 250-pound weighted blanket?”

Your eyes flickered and went glossy at the mention of just how heavy he was. Such a hefty, cushy presence atop you, playing around with you, was all you could want. He could suffocate you with his weight and you’d be fine with it.

“You’re such a little freak, sweetheart.”

“I don’t hear you ever complaining,” you snarled back sweetly. “But I guess it’s hard to hear you at all when your mouth is full.”

“Calling me fat again, huh, baby?”

“Maybe I meant something else by it, too.”

A dull glimmer shone in Hoffman’s tired eyes, mouth catching up into an amused little grin. “Mmhm, I see. You want the best seat in the house.”

“Always.”

“Well at least let me get comfortable in your bedroom then,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh wow, bold of you to assume.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let Daddy into the bedroom and you can do whatever you want, okay?”

“You make it hard not to be sweet on you, you know?”

[lucyswinter]

Request guidelines

Requests are : OPEN<3

Masterlist

Who/what I write for:

-Cillian Murphy/ characters: (Jackson Rippner, Tom Shelby, Neil Lewis, Jonathan Crane, Kitten Braden, Jim: 28 days later, Emmett: a quiet place part II, Raymond Leon, Robert Fischer, Tom Buckley)

-Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, JJ,

-The Bear: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Sugar Berzatto

-Saw: Lawrence Gordon, Adam Stanheight, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Amanda Young, Jill Tuck, Lynn Denlon (for ships: I’ll do chainshipping, coffinshipping, and shotgunshipping/lynnmanda!)

-American Horror Story (All seasons up to Cult with the addition of 1984. Only ships if they are canon (by season, I mean)! i.e: I won’t do Kit Walker (s2) x Madison Montgomery (s3) or anything! And for canon relationships, I will do any season besides NYC and Delicate as long as they are already together. For example, I would do Montana and Richard from 1984.)

-Nip/Tuck: Sean McNamara, Christian Troy, Matt McNamara, Julie McNamara, Liz Cruz, Eden Lord, Sophia Lopez, Kimber Henry

-DC villains (from the Nolan trilogy or Gotham tv show! I will specify from which one I mean. I’ll also write Batman but that’s the only “hero”/vigilante)

-Peaky blinders: Luca Changretta, Tom Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Finn Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Oswald Mosley

-Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick: any characters! (For ships, I only rlly know IceMav 😭 but I’m open to others! I’ll also do penny!reader)

-Bridgerton/ Queen Charolette: Daphne x Simon, George x Charolette, Anthony x Kate, Colin x Penelope (and all of these characters individually as well as Benedict, Violet, Eloise, and the Featherington sisters! *Edit for season 3*: Lord Debling, Lord Stirling, Lady Arnold, Lord Anderson, Francesca Bridgerton, Cressida Cowper)

-Community: Professor Ian Duncan, Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir, Britta Perry , Annie Edison, Troy Barnes

-Impractical Jokers: Joe Gatto, Sal Vulcano, James Murray, Brian Quinn

-Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Destiel (will not do Wincest or Wincestiel)

-X-files: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, MSR

-BBC Sherlock (only JohnLock)

-Good omens (only Ineffable husbands)

-Hannibal (only Hannigram)

(Any other characters im open to! Just PM me to see if I know the fandom/media they’re in, or rec with a few options! I’ll ignore if I don’t know them <;3)

I will write: A bit ooc (depends on scenario 🤭), fluff, smut, small-ish age gap, AU’s, non romantic pairings, alternate endings, fem!/gn!/afab!reader, character x reader, character x character

I won’t write: Male!/nonbinary!/trans!reader (im a cis female so I will write gender neutral reader if requested, but most fics (unless specified) were written with a fem reader in mind :)), incest, underage reader (or character), dub/non-con

Thanks for reading! Feel free to PM requests if you aren’t comfortable sending them through the question button or want to work through the request :)