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slasher-male-wife · 1 year

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Horror characters taking care of their sick s/o

I'm in my sick Victorian boy era. I'm being dramatic because I have a mild case of the flu. I need to write something to keep myself sane so why not write for some characters I haven't written about for awhile.

Includes: Amanda Young, Adam Faulkner, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, and Pyramid head

Warnings: Reader is sick, some of these characters aren't super smart, mentions of vomit and medication, vague talk of cannibalism and violence

Amanda Young

Amanda has basic medical knowledge and when she sees you getting sick she's quick to get you to stay in bed and will be a little overbearing. She's been taking care of John for awhile and seeing her partner sick makes her very worried.

She's going to spend any free time she has taking care of you. She knows you're going to be fine but that's not going to stop her from becoming your personal nurse.

She wants to avoid using medication unless a doctor tells her to use them. She thinks because medication isn't working for John that must mean it won't really work for you.

She knows to keep some distance but she's still going to be around you and touch you. She might intentionally spend more time around you then get closer to Hoffman to try and get him sick.

She might talk to Lawrence about what she should be doing and your symptoms. If you know that she's a jigsaw apprentice she'll introduce you to him as her coworker. But if you don't she'll either bribe him into seeing you or just take his advice.

She is reminded of what happened at the gas house and if you're sick enough that you start to throw she'll need to leave the room and probably spend some time to compose herself. I strongly believe that what jigsaw did to her really messed her up but she denies it.

Adam Faulkner

Oh my god if he finds out you're sick I hope you're ready for him to try and help but honestly just make a fool of himself.

You're hopefully not living in his apartment anymore and depending on your temperature and the weather he's going to keep your bedroom window open because "fresh air helps".

He thinks that he doesn't have to keep space from you because you're dating and he probably ends up getting sick himself. But no matter how much you tell him to stay away so he doesn't get sick he won't listen.

While he's out working (probably for jigsaw) he'll leave out medication for you to take, food you can heat up or just eat cold, and probably gives you anything you need to stay entertained.

If you call him for anything he's dropping whatever he's doing to go help you. You have to literally tell him several times that he doesn't have to rush home and you can stay on your own while he works.

He probably doesn't have any insurance just by judging his apartment so unless you absolutely need to see a doctor he's going to be the one taking care of you.

Will Graham

His medical knowledge is better than some people in these head canons but it's still not the best. I feel like if it's anything than a mild case of the cold or the flu he's taking you to a doctor.

Probably looks up if human illnesses can transfer to dogs. Either way he's keeping his dogs away from you until you feel better.

Will not let you out of bed unless you're going to the bathroom. He deals with blood and guts for a living so dealing with someone who's sick is probably a vacation for him.

Will is going to try to keep Hannibal away from you while you're sick for so many reasons. But Hannibal is probably going to end up seeing you anyway because Will is going to cave.

If the weather and your health allows he's going to take you outside for fresh air like you're a consumption patient from 1912. He will let his dogs around you if you're outside.

Will guilt Jack into letting him stay home for a few days to take care of you. He is going to bring up everything Jack has ever done to him. "Hey Jack I need to stay home to take care of my partner. I know you'll let me take it off since you made me work while I had ensyphilitis."

Hannibal Lecter

He's a literal doctor but also a fucking weirdo so be careful. He'll still take good care of you but will also take the time to get into philosophical discussions with you while you're half asleep.

He refuses to give you anything store bought to eat. Will literally make crackers and break from scratch for you to eat. He'll lay off on the human meat until you're better.

Will not allow you to use one of his bowls as a "throw up bowl" You're using the bathroom to do so, he doesn't care if you accidentally vomit on his floors because he can clean the floor, but his bowls are too valuable.

He won't let you spend all day looking at screens. Hannibal will provide you with any kind of entertainment you want to get you off screens for awhile. He will get you whatever books you want or any other low energy activity.

Will insist on keeping your space clean. Will wash your sheets often and insists on giving you a bath, the temperature depending on if you have a fever or not.

He will keep a sort of distance from you but will also be near you. He will take precautions of course but he can't stop himself from spending time in your room, talking with you.

Pyramid head

He has little knowledge of human illnesses, because he's a demi god of sorts he never really gets sick. So when he sees you get cold sweats or start having a bad cough he's confused about why it's happening. '

You'll have to educate him on your condition and tell him what he needs to do to help you. I don't think there's any medication you can take in silent hill but he can probably find you something to help.

He also probably can't get sick so he doesn't have to worry about getting too close to you. If you try to pull away from him to hide your cough or sneeze he'll just pull you back. Even if he did get a cold from you he'd get over it pretty quickly.

He'll honestly want to be pretty touchy all the time even when you're not sick because he's never had human contact before. You'll probably have to explain to him that cuddling isn't the best thing when you have a fever.

He's going to try and get you as comfortable as possible while he's busy doing Pyramid Head stuff. It all depends on your condition and you'll have to explain to him what you need.

He also doesn't really understand germs so you'll have to explain them to him and why you need to keep yourself and your area clean and why you can't just throw up anywhere. After that he'll get you something to use for that then just throw it somewhere.

#amanda young x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #adam faulkner x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x yn #will grahm x reader #will grahm x you #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #pyramid head x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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blueberrypancakesworld · 11 months

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NSFW - Alphabet - Mark Hoffman

warning : +18, minors don't interact/read, it's getting steamy under the line

masterlist

costas mandylor - masterlist

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

A = Aftercare (how they are after sex).

°Aftercare for Hoffman includes wiping away blood and tears but any bodily fluids she can only clean up after looking at his work. He would want to see his handprints and maybe even take a few pictures of them.

°But if it's not his office and you're in a motel or in a bed, he'll wrap his hands around her and pull her close. Hold her close and give her a grateful kiss on the head.

°,,You've been so good for me sweetheart"

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B = Bodypart (his favorite part of you and them)

°His favorite body part in himself, besides his cock that he knew he could fuck you silly, is his hands. He loved running them over your skin, leaving his marks on your skin and reaching for you. Wrapping them around your neck and squeezing you, listening to you gasp and gasp as he continued to fuck you. You looked so fragile in his eyes that it was only his right that he had to train you so that you wouldn't break so easily...with his own hands.

°He loves your neck and your thighs. Wear a rollneck sweater and a short skirt for him he is glued to you and won't let you go. He loved to leave markcieurngen on his neck to see how the choke marks showed up. The red stripes and marks as well as the scratches on your soft warm thighs was pure beauty.

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C= Cum (anything to do with cum)

°Call it obsession but he loves cumming inside you, leaving you in position for a moment and just waiting for him to soften up again. Not just a time to cuddle but also to tell his favorite how good it was for him.

°,,Let's wait a moment mhhh sweetie?"

°But also licking the liquid from his hands or having it licked from his heart which he had enjoyed minutes before is something he likes to do and jokes that it is the taste of love between them.

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D = Dirty Secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

°A thought that had slowly settled in his head about what if he could give Strahm the ultimate blow with a little video he made himself. Hoffman is not stupid he knew exactly how Strahm looked at his girl and knew the look of seduction. So why not give the special agent a demonstration of how good his girl can be.

°He's not the biggest fan of role play, but what if he had met you under different circumstances. He a simple cop out at night and you a whore with maybe a little too much drugs and well pleasing is pleasing.

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E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

°He had many partners but no real longer relationship because he was rather married to his job up to a certain point. But when he met you, that was finally going to change. Because he finally wanted to have someone to love.

°He knows what he's doing, at least in his own way. He may still have to learn at first what it means to set a few boundaries and test them. Especially when it comes to his moral behavior, but that can easily be changed.

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F = Favorite position (without saying you know what it's about)

°Cowgirl = He doesn't always have the perfect amount of time to take his clothes off or most of the time in general. But having you on his lap while he's watching the game or working a night shift in his office, what's wrong with his hands repeatedly pushing your fingers aside and him calling the shots.

°Doggy = Bending you over his desk or on one with a deadly trap on it makes no difference to him. Even a bed, which is usually more optimal because he lasts longer than his favorite. A bed allows him to put his hands on her hips and pull her back against him. While he fucks her into the mattress and pillows and her moans are an unintelligible babble of whimpering words. He loves to put his hand around her neck and bend her back so that she lies against him to take him even deeper.

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G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment? are they funny? etc.)

° He is definitely the serious type when it comes to sex and foreplay. For him, it's something that's almost precious to have built up such a bond that he can drive over your body with a loaded and ready-to-fire gun...but in the end he would do what he wants anyway so it wouldn't necessarily make a difference.

°If he's in a good mood and wants to get one over on Strahm, he's always up for a bit of fun and flirting. You snuggled up to him while Strahm came in and a line left Hoffman's lips for the horrified look on Strahm's face.

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H = Hair (how shaved is it? Does the trunk match the apple? ect.)

°Hoffman paid attention to his appearance, he is always a policeman and represents an important aspect. Even after his accidents and burns he wants to look well-groomed. He always shaves when he takes a shower but the happy trail stays on.

°Only when he has to hide for several days or weeks is grooming not always the first thing on his mind, but a shave can quickly change that. But yes his hair downstairs is the same shade as upstairs.

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I = Intimacy (how are they at the moment the romantic aspect)

°Romantic aspects count if you both have a bed at all and not a cold table or a wall. But Hoffman would take a bouquet of flowers with him on special occasions, which would end up torn and mixed up somewhere anyway if you threw it aside and just slept together.

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J = Jack off ( mastubation headcanon)

°Since you've been together, he doesn't necessarily crave it, you can give him so much more. And you both know that. But when he's away for a while on a secret mission or in hiding, he always has a few private photos of you and if he doesn't, it's not the first time his darling has had the idea that you can send things.

°He will either use his imagination and come up with something. But a photo or video is enough to give him what he wants. Even before you got together, he just imagined that it was you stroking his cock, looking at him with a tear-filled gaze and feeling so warm and soft around him.

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Kink = (one or more of the kinks)

°Degradation = He makes the rules and he keeps those rules even through degradation. He knew what he could do to you. Knew exactly that her fingers played with the sleeve of her sweater more nervously and excitedly. Her thighs moved and she moved her hips slightly on the chair to get the same good feeling. Only to hear Hoffman's shameful words as he looked at her with a punishing yet smirky grin.

°,,Do I have to tell you to come here again or has that one round made you stupid sweetie?"

°Pain Play = He's gotten enough pain in his life and maybe as such he wants to see how far he can rub his sweetheart with it. He loves to wipe away her sweet tears while dragging a knife or his gun across her skin. But he knows that behind the fearful look there is lust and he is prouder and prouder every time she takes more and more.

°,,Longer than before such a good girl"

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L = Location (favorite place to do it)

°His office as often as he has to stay in the police station he can't even list. But when you come by to play the worried girlfriend, of course, the music is suddenly turned up or his door is locked...only when Agent Strahm is still there does the poor guy get a show he didn't ask for.

°Next to his office, the individual surveillance rooms in the games, no matter how big or small, Hoffman finds a place to have fun. In and during the game but also his car is a possibility if he has to observe someone.

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M = Motivation (what turns them on)

°Jealousy = When he's jealous, he's overwhelmed by the need to make it clear to everyone in the room that you're his. That he is yours and you are his. Whether with or without an audience, one wrong look from another man would be enough to feel his hand on your body.

°Skirts = He loves it when you wear pantyhose or knee-highs but a skirt so short that he can see your thighs, he's mesmerized. When you're in a meeting or interview, his hand is definitely on them. Loves to run it over the soft warm skin and squeeze everything while he imagines how he would take you afterwards.

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N = No (something they wouldn't do, dismissing)

°Gentle = Not necessarily a direct no but reluctant to hear from his partner. He is not and would never be the completely gentle type. He is too attached to rules and above all power, which is why he is not always gentle with his sweetheart.

°Vanilla = If he were your first, he would give you the full specktrum. From gentle to painful but completely "boring" he wouldn't like it. Once to get used to it, but after that he will do everything and bring everything closer to you to get variety between you.

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O = Oral (preference whether giving or receiving, skill, ect.)

°If he gives you head, it's rare on the one hand, not because he doesn't love to see you shake while you scream his name. It's because he could do so much more to bring you under his control. But his hands rest on the soft thighs of his beloved, pushing them apart with the gentle squeeze that she should leave them open and he tastes her until he either has enough or lets her come.

°,,Scream my name darling and I'm all yours I promise"

°Hoffman loves the effectiveness of being sucked off by her. Not only does he not need much space and his desk in the office is more than enough. Also his hands reaching into her hair and him setting the pace as she takes him more and more. The tears running down her cheeks, he wipes them away only to praise her as he hears her muffled moans.

°,,Look at you crying and still can't get enough you dirty girl"

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P = Pace (are they fast and hard? slow and sensitive? etc.)

°Hoffman is definitely the hard and fast type. Whether it's a longer foreplay or just a quickie. During sex he vents his frustration and wants to lose himself in the feeling and in her, which is why he takes his rough hard side into the bedroom.

°However, he can also be gentle and slow, especially when he has his sweetheart sitting on his cock. She warms his cock or her mouth is around his cock. He gently runs his fingers through her hair and he is grateful for what she has done.

°But on special occasions when they are not full of toys and new techniques, he will respond to your wishes and requests and make you happy.

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Q = Quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often etc)

°Quickies are his favorite thing to do besides long laps. Especially when she hides under his table or he can have his way with her body and it comes to a quick end. He uses her the way he wants and she gives herself to him alone.

°In the days and weeks when he hardly ever leaves his office or the police station, a quickie is in there at least half the time. Too often he has to calm down when Strahm gets on his nerves and he wants to lose himself in her.

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R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

°He experiments a lot and especially likes to experiment with his sweetheart. For him, sex is not only interesting because of the feeling of trying out new things. But the thought of trying out new places where they could be caught is more than tempting for the policeman.

°,,New coordinates, new fun"

°He would risk everything and perhaps this would be a consequence of his arrogance. But especially in places where a game had been played and the police did not yet know where he would do it with them. The idea that Strahm has a clue that leads not only to Hoffman but also to his activities is a particularly satisfying thought.

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S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long can they last?)

°Hoffman is a policeman and a rather athletic guy, apart from his age, he can usually go two to three rounds. On good days and especially when you've teased him and he just needs you, he can go four rounds, but afterwards he's not the only one who needs a good rest.

°,,Oh sweetie, don't... we're just getting started"

°Hoffman has time and can be very patient when he wants to be and he is patient when it comes to his pleasure and your posture and almost torture. He will take his breaks but he knows exactly how long he has to and can take to give you both what you need.

°,,If you keep doing this-ah then..."

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T = Toys (do they have toys? do they use them? on their partner or themselves?)

°Pistol = His pistol, even if it's actually a service weapon, something he's always wanted to use and would use on her. What was initially used for teasing and foreplay turned into something more serious between them after she sent him a video of her fucking his gun. He loved to see that little flicker of fear in her eyes when he pulled the unsecured gun over her body. Her tongue ran over the metal and her juices and saliva mingled on the barrel of the gun.

°Traps = Hoffman, though not the best trap maker, has been given more than his fair share of traps by John. His lust and will is enough to turn these machines into something else that could be the little extra between him and his partner.

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U = Unfair (how they love to tease)

°He loves to tease you, watching the warmth leap onto her cheeks. The actually raised gaze slips to the floor and she tries to move away from him. Only for him to grab her wrist and pull her onto his lap. Especially in public and in the police department in his office with the door open. Knowing that Strahm could see him, Hoffman's girlfriend was holding on to him too tightly.

°,,Are you going to be good or are you going to ask the department for a show?"

°But just as he can tease, he quickly learned that his girlfriend loved to tease him too. The reporter who came to the police station wearing a flamboyantly short skirt and a wide neckline and conducted interviews with Agent Strahm. She put her arm on the policeman's but her eyes were on Hoffman. She went to him next and it took him all his effort not to pull her into his office and remind her that he saw everything.

°,,Maybe I need to borrow the journalist for a moment...for a private interview"

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V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make, etc.)

°Hoffman is not necessarily loud when it comes to noise, but rather his words. He can whisper them quietly and convince you that you can hear his voice by now because he fucks you so well. But he can also be quieter when he's in the office with you and doesn't want Strahm to come in.

°Besides degrading words and his rules, he is still the moaning type. He can lose himself in your cunt and especially after a long hard day he won't hold back his noises.

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W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

°The reverse bear trap stays on during sex without the timer, of course, but it stays on. This dangerous game in which he loses himself with his beloved gets wilder from time to time until he reaches for the bear trap and puts it on her head after she couldn't stay quiet. But her stupid moans and pleas are all the more beautiful to Hoffman's ears.

°,,Come on, speak up and I'll stop or can't you...you usually open your mouth so well"

°When you play with him he hates not being in control on the one hand, but develops a game of his own in which he finds another undressed top for every task he solves and you end up lying naked on a big bed in front of him. He had never solved so many traps and puzzles for a pussy. But he would do anything for his sweetie.

°,,Love let the big bad wolf in...now!"

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X = X-ray (let's look under the clothes)

°He has a happy trail that is the same color as his hair, it is 15cm/5.9in long and even though Strahms is a tad longer, Hoffman's is all the wider. Your hand barely fits around it and yet it's perfect. Fills you out like no other can. A fact Hoffman loved to repeat over and over again to his sweetie. Fucking her over and over again and seeing her want more.

°He knows he's perfect for you. That he is the only thing you need and he is the only one who can take you so well. You look at him with that innocent look every time just to become a whiny whore for him on his cock.

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Y = Yearning (how high is the sex drive?)

°High especially when he is in the middle of one of his games. He's already tense and wants everything to go according to plan because it all has to go according to plan. Which is why he loves it when his favorite was with him, kneeling down and sucking him off while he could concentrate on the monitors. They were his toy for the moment and the hours that followed.

°But not only during the games and falls also during his work his thoughts go to her too often. His imagination and the things he wanted to do with her only to be disturbed either by Strahm coming into his office without knocking.

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Z = Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

°Hoffman is a night person sleep is something he can only do when he is not being followed by the FBI or has to prepare a new game, which is why he always falls asleep after you.

°When he falls asleep after you, he can hold you in his arms knowing that you are with him and no one else because in his head there is always jealousy and the fear that you might leave him.

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@megustadilf , @lola-max-sugar , @slut4hoffman , @callmeklarise , @c0stass , @toastnpretzels

#saw #saw movies #saw franchise #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #saw mark hoffman #mark hoffman saw #mark hoffman smut #smut alphabet

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apprenticestanheight · 8 months

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kindly asking for hoffman taking care of a sick s/o (but also not opposed to the same prompt for amanda,,)

Hoffman and Amanda taking care of a sick s/o headcanons

Okay!! This is coming out literal months after it was sent into my inbox and for that, I apologize! I am notoriously terrible at time management and I will procrastinate as much as the day is long.

Procrastination in accompaniment with a couple of personal issues and mountains of demotivation and anxiety as tall as mount everest are not the best cocktail and again, I am very sorry for how long this has taken!

I do have it titled in a way that might be a little confusing but, just to clarify, I did do headcanons and I did two separate sets rolled up into one fic just so that I could make it a little easier on myself because I could not, for the life of me, choose between hoffman and amanda for this. I don't write enough for either of them so this is kind of how I'm compensating for that lol

Fic type - this is very fluffy!

Warnings - the reader has a sinus infection/cold, so there's likely to be symptoms of that discussed, plus mentions of medication

oooookay!! To start, we're gonna go with Hoffman!

You wake up sick one random morning at the beginning of February and Mark is immediately like "oh NO, did I give them the sinus cold that's been going around work?" bc he had it like,, two or so weeks beforehand

and when you say good morning in a way that tells mark you're groggy but also sick, he calls in sick from work on your behalf and then calls the precinct to waste a few sick days to take care of you

After he's called in sick from work, he kisses your forehead both because he wants to and also to check for a fever. He finds that you're burning up, which is a bit of a surprise given the fact that, the minute Mark had adjusted, you'd practically stolen all of the blankets from him.

So, he kisses you on the forehead again and then leaves your apartment to grab the essentials: ibuprofen for the inevitable headache, a combination pack Nyquil and Dayquil to ease the fever and also help you function like a person during the day and get some sleep at night.

He also grabs chicken noodle soup and bread for toast, plus a few of your favorite snacks.

When he gets back home, he tosses one of his older NJPD sweaters into the dryer so that it comes out warm once the fever has broken, finds you in your bed with nothing but a stolen pair of Marks boxers and one of his button ups to act as clothes. A thick blanket covers your legs entirely and you've sat up in the bed, clearly trying to will yourself to function like you would if you weren't sick.

Mark is at your side relatively quickly with a Dayquil and bottle of gatorade in hand, kissing your forehead as you take the pills and thank him for running the errand.

Generally, Mark is absolutely the type of guy who just wants to make sure you have the time to rest. He takes care of the house work, makes sure that the windows are open so that you're still getting fresh air but aren't practically drowning in the wintery cold, does everything he can to make sure you're resting well.

that also means he's with you lots of the time--he'll lay down with you in bed for as long as you want, happy to kiss the top of your head and act as your anchor when a migraine sets in.

It also means kisses after you've taken your meds--you'll pop a Dayquil, sip some gatorade, and Mark will kiss your forehead or your cheek and then say nothing when you fall asleep against his shoulder twenty minutes later

he's generally very sweet and absolutely one hell of a guy to have around when you have a cold

okay! It's Mandys turn

Amanda is super clingy and has herself a few connections, so when she finds out you have a cold she uses those connections.

the biggest connection that she has is lawrence (I am firmly of the belief that they had a sibling dynamic and also that they were both only children) and she uses it the second you're asleep while sinus-infected and bedridden

she calls him up like "hi. my partner has a cold. I need a prescription for the best cold meds you have or at least a bit of advice please and thanks."

so, Lawrence kind of like,, he gives her the play-by-play, right? He tells her what over-the-counter meds work the best and gives her advice on how to help you

she follows it bc she wants you to get better. She gets you the good stuff and benadryl, which has the tendency to knock a person out as it were and the night-time cold meds were out of stock at the pharmacy she went to.

She even goes to walmart and gets you a heated blanket. she is the fuckin--she loves you so much that she's willing to spend the 2001 equivalent of modern-day $20 for one of the decent ones.

And then she gets home and kisses you on the cheek bc emotional support, and you thank her while she sets up the heated blanket

generally, Amanda is like--she's on top of your care. She makes sure you're always comfortable, bribes you with kisses to get you to take the buckleys or whatever it is that she finds when she checks another pharamacy after a bit of apprenticing one day

you also sleep a lot, and Amanda pretty much acts as your body pillow??

the minute you're tiredly pressing your face against her shoulder, she's just kind of happy to let you sleep as you please because she wants you to get better

generally, she's very attentive and is quick to get you what you need when you need it.

#mark hoffman x reader #amanda young x reader #mark hoffman #amanda young #saw 2004 #saw franchise

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shiro-ravs · 11 months

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hii<3 can u do an one shot where mark hoffman is y/n's dad and gets mad when amanda is flirting with y/n?

amanda x reader

synopsis: you get grounded by your dad (hoffman) as amanda is flirting with you.

tw: age gap (y/n is 18, amanda is 30); hair pulling; sex toys; light spanking; dom amanda; sub y/n; lesbian; calling names; mommy amanda

You and your dad are just walking out of the place where Amanda is working on her new trap. Hoffman, John's apprentice and also your father - was helping her with it. And you? You were there just because of boredom. And maybe to admire Amanda, as she was the hottest woman you've ever seen. The way she- "Y/n, are you okay?" Huh. You realized you have been staring at Amanda's lips for few minutes now, meanwhile slightly biting your own bottom lip. "Yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?" you responded. "I said Hoffman's waiting in the car. I'll see you tomorrow, beautiful." A blush crept up your face when you heard the last word, how she called you beautiful. She noticed your red cheeks, so she walked up to you and whispered into your ear. "When will you stop being so fucking cute, baby?" Oh well, this caught you off guard. Amanda touched your hips softly with her fingers, which made you feel goosebumps. Suddenly, a sound of a car door slamming interrupted both of you. It was your dad, of course. You shifted your gaze at him. He was smoking a cigarette, looking at you. His face immediately said that you're taking too long. Amanda quickly turned around and left without saying goodbye. Without any choice, you approached the car and got in the front seat. "What did I tell you before?" He asked in an aggressive tone. "That Amanda is your rival and I shouldn't talk with her..." "Exactly young lady, and here I am, watching you flirt with that dumb bitch who sees me as an only heavy lifting useful guy." You knew he didn't like you talking to her, but you couldn't help it at all. "I'm sorry daddy but I really didn't mean to!" Tears start to appear in your eyes, as he screams at you. "Fuck it. You're grounded. No going out of your room for a week." You stayed in silence the rest of the ride, sobbing quietly. Feeling of breeze on your face was perfectly relaxing. As you were looking throught a window, you noticed someone under your house. Gasp escaped your mouth when you realized it's Amanda. She pointed at you and gave you a sign to come. You jumped out of the window onto her arms. You sat on her bed just like she did. It was awkard, because until now you only watched her working on traps. "I know how you look at me, pretty." she confessed. At first you were clearly confused, but after awhile you understood what she meant. As you were about to respond, she pinned you down on the bed and looked in your eyes, grinning from ear to ear. "And I also know how much you want me to fuck you." Amanda undressed you. Since you were the only one naked, it felt unfair but also made you more and more wet. You didn't expect one thing. Her soon grabbing a vibrator. She pressed it against your clit, making you whimper her name. "A-Amanda~ Nghh~" "Please.. Mm...~" Amanda kissed your lips, suppressing your moans, then neck, tasting your skin, and finally your nipples. While holding your wrists, she turned you over to make you now bend on your stomach. "I-I think... Ahh.. I'm.. Ngh.. going to cu-" "Not so fast, Angel." She spanked your ass and pulled your hair. "Be a good girl and make mommy proud~ And I'll name my new trap Angel Trap." she whispered. Amanda put the vibrator aside to then put her lips on your cunt. You groaned as she licked your hole gently. You quickly felt mommy's tongue twirl neatly in you, which caused you to cum almost immediately, drooling over. And that wasn't the last time you came tonight.

#mark hoffman #amanda young #amanda young smut #saw #saw smut #amanda x reader #amanda x y/n

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wilt1ng · 1 year

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MARK HOFFMAN HEAD-CANONS

SFW AND NSFW

In honor of Saw X and its release, why not celebrate with Hoffman head-canons?

SFW

Morally grey

This one is rather self-explanatory. Although Hoffman is a detective, he isn't a "right" one. He follows rules that only he lives by and will maybe comply with the rules of others if it's to his benefit.

He isn't necessarily one to express his sympathies to someone, especially if they found themselves placed into a jigsaw trap. However, he shares an extent to whom he would personally place into a trap. For example, he doesn't strike me as a guy who'd trap someone who smoked cigarettes compared to a murderer.

He feels a sense of injustice when a person survives their trap, and disappointment follows. He has a tendency to question Jigsaw's ways.

Sense of self preservation

Unlike Amanda, it's clear Hoffman doesn't hinder positive feelings towards Jigsaw. There are simply things he would and wouldn't do if Kramer asked him.

He doesn't follow blindly and is constantly on guard.

Loves from a distance

Hoffman's love life isn't truly tapped into it as it wasn't necessarily relevant to the Saw plot line, unlike the showcasing of love he shared for his sister.

He's an emotionally distant man who'd almost rather never meddle in the topic of feelings and love. However, if someone were to catch his eye, he wouldn't be exactly normal about it.

Knowing the skill set he has now, he'd often watch them from a distance out of pure curiosity. He'd want to know their deepest secrets and how they behave when they think they're alone. Hoffman isn't under giving them a background check as well, almost obsessively researching them.

If Hoffman chose to actively pursue a relationship, he would surveillance them nearly 24/7 out of fear of being caught or discovered.

Hidden cameras, tagging your car, occasionally breaking in, watching you leave to work, etc.

• Petty and vengeful

I wouldn't put it past Hoffman to severely punish his s/o for something like cheating on him. This man can and will put them in a jigsaw trap for the hell of it. Whether or not it's beatable depends on your crime, but more likely than not, you won't survive it.

The trap would be personal and perhaps symbolic to the pain they inflicted onto him. Hoffman would be there to watch the entire process, not feeling necessarily happy, despite them betraying him.

Bonus+: he would also trap the person they had an affair with/ensuring they didn't survive.

NSFW

Dominant top 😇

Although the idea of someone taking control and riding Hoffman seems exciting, he mainly gets a kick out of having all the control himself.

He's into choking, bondage, and light bdsm. Can and will cuff you to his bed while he has his way. He enjoys a sense of a power dynamic, finding comfort in knowing he has full control of the situation.

He would 1000% use that fuckin voice he uses (you know the one) to degrade you with, while using a gentler tone whenever you please him.

"Don't disappoint me."

"That's it. Continue being good for me."

Emotionally distant

Unfortunately for some, but Hoffman would go a few days without speaking to you, only to break the silence with a quick fuck. A toxic dynamic between you two may be easily built.

It's insanely difficult for Hoffman to open up, especially about his sister and how he's been feeling since then.

Due to his vulnerability issues, if you were to make that exception, he'd be constantly wary of you. Hoffman could become accusatory and/or obsessive with you and how you think of him.

"You think I'm a fucking monster, don't you? I want to hear you say it."

Toxic ex

Safe to say you wouldn't want Hoffman for an ex. Except harassing phone calls, ominous messages left at your doorstep, and the constant feeling you're never safe.

Hoffman would send detailed threats on how he'd trap you and your new s/o (assuming you moved on). He may never actually go through with these plans but nonetheless shares empty threats.

You'd never feel completely safe as he'd still monitor you via surveillance, occasionally breaking in to watch you sleep.

That's all for now! <3

#slashers #slasher #saw 2004 #saw franchise #mark hoffman #xreader #headcanons

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hoffstrap-yuri · 7 months

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For Sickness and in Health (Insurance)

ao3 // masterlist

*SUMMARY: Agent Strahm was by the book when it came to solving cases. Being honest about his marital status was a different story entirely.

*RATING: +18 for Explicit Mature Content

*CONTENT/TAGS: M/M, Hoffstrahm, Coffinshipping, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Fake Marriage/Dating, Fake Relationship, Eventual Smut, Alternate Universe

*STATUS: Chapter 2/2 COMPLETE

Author's Note: First Chapter of this fic can be found here! I'm back with the smut I promised in the tags! This is a bit longer but I felt the events of this happen in one go so I broke up the chapters the way I did to keep the flow of the story in tact. As always please enjoy my little crack and let me know if you'd be down for a sequel. I do have a tenative idea if anyone's interested u.u

The rest of the night was mostly uneventful. Strahm ordered in something for the both of them from Olive Garden. They ate mostly in silence, with the sound of rerun episode of General Hospital playing on the TV. Something about Sonny’s brother or son… not that Hoffman could keep up with all the characters on the show, but Strahm seemed mildly intrigued. Either he was a big soap opera fan or he was just looking for mindless entertainment to fill the void. It didn’t matter much either way for Hoffman. He laid down on the bed before making a sarcastic comment,

“You couldn’t spring for two beds, cheapskate?”

“This was the only room they had on short notice.”

“Then you should’ve found a different hotel.”

“Oh and what, find some dump over in Rosslyn on the other side of the Potomac? Fat chance.”

“Sounds like you have a nit to pick with Virginia, Agent.”

“So what if I do?” Strahm brushed off whatever it was that seemed to be on his shoulder and lied in bed next to Mark. There was a noticeable gap between the two of them as Strahm sat up to turn the TV off. He rolled over onto his side and faced Hoffman, before realizing it was a mistake and turning onto his other side just as fast. Mark turned over so his back was facing Strahm’s before purposefully inching his body closer to the man but not enough that Strahm could protest it. While Hoffman continued to toss and turn, he listened to the man’s snores. How Strahm managed to fall asleep so quickly was beyond the detective but it was comforting in its own strange way. Hoffman flipped back over so that his face was in line with the back of Strahm’s neck. He prayed the other man was a heavy sleeper as he slung an arm over Strahm’s body and held him against his chest. When the agent didn’t seem to react to the intrusion, Hoffman wrapped his other arm underneath Strahm’s neck and let his hand rest on Strahm’s chest.

“Good night, Hubby.” He whispered in Strahm’s ear before shutting his eyes and finally allowing himself to fall asleep. The intrusive noise of an alarm clock woke Hoffman up, practically jolting out of bed. He looked bitterly over at the agent next to him who rolled over to face the man. Strahm took a second to process another person being in bed with him, and then another to process that Hoffman was leaning over him with frankly gorgeous messy bed-head hair. Rather than say anything, Strahm pushed the other man away from his space, and sprinted to the bathroom. He came back out a few seconds later and grabbed his toiletries and his clothes for that day before promptly locking himself back into the bathroom. Hoffman felt around the bedside table on Strahm’s side for the TV remote so he had some kind of noise as he was in the process of waking up. After about five minutes of Strahm in the bathroom, Hoffman called out to him,

“You’d better hurry up, I still have to do my makeup.”

“I’m just shaving now.” Strahm shot back. Was Mark getting under the other man’s buttons

“I might have as well gone down and gotten breakfast for you the way you’re taking so long in there.”

“Alright, alright.” Strahm stepped out, rubbing aftershave onto his neck, “All yours, princess.”

“Thanks, dear.” Hoffman passed the other man and lightly slapped his ass. Strahm turned back and looked at him with disgust as Hoffman got into the bathroom. He set everything on the counter out so that he didn’t have to think about anything once he was finished showering. Strahm knocked on the door after he stepped out of the shower and asked,

“I’m going to grab coffee, you want anything from downstairs?”

“Coffee and some kind of muffin. Blueberry if they have it.” Hoffman replied, holding the eyeliner pencil in his hand. It couldn’t be that hard to draw a straight line along his eyelid. Hell he’d done it for Angie’s prom makeup. All he needed to do was remember that…

“And if they don’t?”

“Then skip it.” Hoffman scoffed

“Both or just the muffin?”

“Just the muffin,” Hoffman rolled his eyes before cursing under his breath, “Dumbass.”

“I’ll be back in five.”

“Make it ten, stupid.” Hoffman pressed the pencil against his eyelid and tried drawing the line in one foul swoop. It went terribly. The pencil dragged against the skin and looked like Mark’s hand had just decided to give up. He groaned and used the sink water to wipe it off and start again. The dark black kohl when washed away made it look like he hadn’t slept in years. Determined to get it right this time, he went back in and lightly drawing in short strokes. With the lack of practice, there was no way in hell he’d get a winged look done in time, so he moved on to his brows. He slicked them down until they were about as thin as the eyebrow pencil was and tried to make a defined arch with a combo of hairs and pencil. Strahm looked at disgust in the mirror. Strahm must know a blind guy in HR because this makeup was not going to fool anyone with less than a 20/200 eyesight. He took a deep breath and continued working on his face, applying a shade of foundation that was considerably orange with a concealer to match. The concealer seemingly helped to clean up the dark circles his eyeliner had created and the define the shape of the brows better than his handiwork could do alone. Next it was time for blush. It was a bright pink that didn’t seem to fit the foundation all that well, but it was pretty in the tin. Last was the lipstick. Hoffman lined the edges of his lips with a bright red lip liner and filled it in with a mousse lipstick. He blotted it and cleaned off his teeth with his finger tip as the makeup had smeared onto them. He looked repulsive, but he had to throw the wig on still so he begrudgingly put the fake hair on. He still thought he looked off, but at a glance he figured he could probably get away with this after all. Now was the real struggle, the clothes. Mark had bought something a little extra while Strahm was putzing around in the bathroom at the mall the previous day. He sucked in his gut and put on the waist trainer he purchased and a push-up bra that Strahm was more than happy to buy his partner in crime. He gave his chest a little squeeze before stepping into his dress and zipping it as far as his big fingers would let him. He heard the room door open and some shuffling noise before Strahm announced that he was here.

“Can you help me with the dress?” Hoffman asked, unlocking the door so that Strahm could get in with him. Strahm stepped in and looked at Hoffman’s back, his middle and index finger tracing their way along Hoffman’s spine. He pulled his hand back before helping the detective zip up. Hoffman turned around to face him, hooking his arm around Strahm’s waist before purring in a low woman’s voice, “What do you think of your wife, huh?”

“I…” Strahm started before clearing his throat which turned into a coughing fit before he could recover and said, “Got you a muffin.” “You’re the best.” Hoffman took his other hand and pressed it firmly against Strahm’s pecs before sidestepping him to get his breakfast. While Hoffman was peeling the wrapper off the muffin, Strahm stood in the bathroom absolutely stunned for another minute. He was only snapped back to reality when Hoffman’s voice dropped back down to its natural tone, “Come on Agent, your coffee’s getting cold.”

“Yeah.” Strahm shook his head and grabbed the disposable cup before chugging the coffee inside. He threw the cup into the bin and said quietly, “I’m going to go warm up the car. See you in a couple minutes.”

“Whatever you say.” Hoffman twirled the ends of his wig around his pointer finger before rolling his eyes and finishing his drink. Before leaving the room, he grabbed the keys and did a quick touch up on his lipstick that had stained the white of the Styrofoam coffee cup and walked down to where Agent Strahm had parked the car. He walked with a bravado he tried to steal from Angie when she had bought her first pair of heels as a teenager. He saw the way men were looking at his ass in the elevator. He smirked with the quiet satisfaction that apparently he was hot enough to get heads turning as he made long strides through the lobby and to Strahm’s car. He leaned against the driver’s side door as he saw Strahm taking a drag off a cigarette. Strahm dropped the cancer stick onto his lap and quietly cursed before putting it out on the plastic cup holder in the car,

“The hell do you think you’re doing over there?” He looked Hoffman up and down

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I’ve been trying to quit for 10 years.”

“Shame. Hand me one and light it for me.” Hoffman said leaning down into the window. Strahm shoved a cigarette into the other man’s plump lips and lit it quickly. Mark took a drag off his cigarette before letting it rest on the side of his mouth and giving Strahm’s hair a quick scruff. “Thanks babe”. He walked to the other side of the car and sat in the passenger’s seat. Strahm put the car into reverse quickly and started driving to the office. While they waited in traffic, Strahm would flip through the radio stations to see what had changed since he last made a trip down to DC. Mark kept flipping the sun visor down to look at his makeup while the other man shouted obscenities at tourists for not knowing they needed to merge back into traffic sooner rather than now. Mark wrapped his hands around Strahm’s arms as he swore and that seemed to calm the other man down enough where his obscenities would be mere grumbles. “Good boy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Strahm protested

“My darling dearest husband?” Hoffman offered

“You can use the other one.” The agent mumbled as he made the turn to get off the tollway and onto local roads. They pulled into the parking lot and after showing his ID and confirmation of his appointment they were let in. Hoffman wrapped his hands around Strahm’s arms again and whispered into his ear

“Pretend I’m telling you something funny, and look down at the floor.” Strahm did was as he was told, giving a little laugh as he stared down the tiles underfoot. Hoffman repeated, “Good boy.” They took the elevator up to the offices where Strahm unhooked Hoffman and stood on the other side of the space. “Get back here.” Hoffman said between a faked smile, “What if someone gets in with us and sees us apart?”

“I’ll tell them to go fuck themselves. You don’t need to continue this show and dance in here.”

“And how are we supposed to sell the act?”

“We’ll be fine.” Strahm assured Hoffman. When the door opened and they got off, Hoffman’s arm found its way back to resting against Peter’s tailbone. The receptionist checked Peter in and they sat down next to each other before being greeted by another agent and following him to his cubicle space.

“So Mr. and Mrs. Strahm…” He started, “What’s your wife’s first name?”

“It’s…” Hoffman started to answer before Strahm quickly interjected with a cough. Hoffman slipped back into his falsetto and waited for Strahm to answer

“Marka. Her name is Marka.” Strahm replied, “Yeah. Mail order from Russia. Doesn’t understand a whole lot of English.”

“Oh, interesting. I actually just started learning Russian… Um, privet…”

“Sorry, Belarusian. Belarusian mail order bride.” Strahm corrected himself

“Da.” Hoffman responded, batting his eyelashes hard at the agent before them

“Oh that’s a shame. Don’t know any Belarusian. Maybe I’ll trying taking courses someday.”

“Super helpful.” Strahm cracked

“Okay so… your wife Marka Strahm. Do you have her papers?”

“I no have.” Hoffman replied, “but is okay, yeah?”

“Okay.” The guy looked over the two of them. Strahm wasn’t sweating bullets but he was certainly on the edge of his seat. Hoffman crossed his legs in his chair and rested a hand on his husband’s lap, inching closer to his bulge. His bulge? He gave the agent a look for a second, before turning it into a look of confusion.

“I am doing right, yeah?” He asked Strahm

“Yeah, you’re doing fine honey.” Strahm pressed a hand against Hoffman’s stomach, “We’re trying to make sure this one has coverage before the baby.” Mark blinked rapidly as he processed what bullshit Strahm had just said. Was this his plan from the beginning?

“Do you at least have your marriage certificate?” The agent asked Strahm

“Yeah, right here.” Strahm handed over a piece of paper before quickly scribbling in something while the agent wasn’t looking. Hoffman couldn’t keep himself from looking and he saw that Strahm had managed to poorly write ‘Marka Hoffman’ over his previous wife’s name on the certificate. He gave Strahm a look that only could be read as ‘Are you fucking stupid?’ The agent scanned the document and added it to the database before excusing the couple but not before saying,

“Oh and congrats on the baby.”

“Thanks.” Strahm quickly replied and guided his bride down the hallway and back into the elevator

“Well that could’ve gone better.” Hoffman scoffed and looked at Strahm, “The hell were you thinking?”

“It didn’t go as bad as I thought it would.” Strahm shrugged

“Oh you thought I was going to do poorly, huh?” The detective raised his voice, “And what the hell was with you fondling my stomach like that, saying I was pregnant, you stupid idiot. Dumb motherfucker. I bet you like this, huh?”

“What?” Strahm coughed, clearly not expecting this to turn into a confrontation

“That’s right, I was palming your bulge in those stupid pants of yours when you touched me. I bet you love questionable men tuning into fat broads for you with some makeup and dresses, huh?” Hoffman started but could tell he struck a nerve with Strahm. Strahm was cornered and he did the last thing he could think of to save any sense of self preservation he had left. He pressed his lips desperately onto Hoffman’s and moaned into their kiss. He wrapped his arms lazily around the other man and sucked at his bottom lip. “Oh… oh what a slut you are, Peter Strahm.”

“S-Shut up.” Strahm pulled himself away from Hoffman’s lips, but not off of Hoffman’s body. The door opened to a group of young agents waiting to use the elevator. Strahm quickly scuttled off the elevator without much dignity, while Hoffman walked off with confidence. Strahm tried to duck quietly into the bathroom but Hoffman followed him in and kicked open the stall door before Strahm could lock it. Strahm cursed as the door swung back into him and looked at Hoffman with a certain kind of lust. Was it a carnal lust, or blood lust? Either way it didn’t matter to Mark in this moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was all just some big kink for you, huh?” He took Strahm’s chin into her hand and jerked his head around, “That you like men that act like fat broads?”

“Would you really believe me if I told you that?” Strahm growled, placing a hand on the door behind Hoffman and pressing his weight into the heavier man. Despite his anger, his lips made contact with Hoffman’s forehead first and he took in the smell of Hoffman’s wig. He used his free hand to wrap around Hoffman’s waist and pulled the man in even closer. Hoffman was tired of waiting with Strahm. He pulled him in by his tie for a kiss on the lips and wrapped the tie tightly around his hand. Strahm made a quiet coughing noise as he was being depraved of oxygen in all the right ways. Strahm shivered and bit down on Hoffman’s lip. “I need you.”

“How?”

“Want you on me.” Strahm groaned

“You’re a man. Use your fucking words.” Mark was short with him. Enough with the lies, enough of the bullshit. Was that agent they talked to even an HR person or was he just another part of the ruse? He wouldn’t accept anything less than Strahm’s breathless devotion to him in this moment.

“I want you like a rabid bitch, bouncing on my cock.” Strahm said in a husky voice, pained with want. You would’ve thought Hoffman shot him and left the hole opened the way he whined.

“There. Was that so hard to tell me?” Hoffman spit out. Hoffman pulled up his dress and when he stumbled back a little bit Strahm’s arms moved to keep him held flush against his chest. “So strong.”

“Stop teasing and let me fuck you already.” Strahm said, before kissing Hoffman’s neck with every intent on bruising or marking him

“Take my panties off.”

Strahm took his arms away and slid the waist trainer down off Mark’s hips, leaving them at his ankles, “I was wondering how you got those hip dips so… nice.”

“Just shut up. You want to fuck me, then hurry up and fuck me you stupid asshole.”

Strahm slips the lingerie barely holding Hoffman’s boner in down and onto the ground. He stares for a second before he takes a hold of Hoffman’s body and spins it one-hundred eighty degrees so that Mark’s face is up against the cold steel. He takes Hoffman’s hands and holds them over Hoffman’s head, using his feet to spread Hoffman just little bit further apart.

“Will you be a good whore and if I let go of your hands so I can get my pants off, you’ll keep them where they are?” Strahm asked

“Anything for my husband.” Hoffman said with a hit of sarcasm. Strahm pulled his hand away and to his word Hoffman kept his hands over his head. He heard the sound of Strahm’s belt being unbuckled and pants falling to the floor. Without so much as a word, Strahm was thrusting into Hoffman’s ass. “Fuck Pete.”

“Yeah, say that again.” Strahm grunted

“Fucking hell… no one’s ever been able to satisfy you like I have, huh?”

“No.” Strahm replied between thrusts

“Sure you might’ve had fat partners but they could never please you the way that I do, you stupid pervert. I bet no one’s ever felt this good on your cock like this fat broad, huh?”

“No…” Strahm managed to cough out between broken moans

“No what? I’m not the best you’ve ever had, or no one’s ever compared to me?” Hoffman’s foundation was getting smeared all over the door of the stall as Strahm kept chasing his release

“You’re the best… no other…” Strahm made one final loud grunt as the tension that had been pooling in the bottom of his stomach came out in short bursts up Hoffman’s ass. When sense seemingly returned to his head, he took Hoffman by his jawline and kissed his cheek. “You’re taking it so good…” His lips sloppily connected with the one chiseled feature Hoffman had while his hands trailed wildly across Hoffman’s body. He was feeling up the bra that Hoffman’s chest was confined by, rubbing the other man’s stomach and kneading at the tender fat that rested just above his belt line in his normal work clothes.

“Fucking chubby chasing pervert.” Hoffman cursed under his breath while wearing a giant smirk. Strahm even brushed up against the erection that Hoffman had been trying to ignore up until this point. “Don’t touch me if you don’t intend on getting me off here, Agent.”

“Fine, I guess we’ll just have to save it for our hotel room.” Strahm pulled himself out of Hoffman’s hole, making sure to dirty up Mark’s inner thighs with his cum before cleaning himself off with a piece of toilet paper. He pulled his pants up fast and helped the detective look semi-presentable as they would walk out the entrance and back to the car. There was no saving Mark’s makeup, he’d have to walk out of the bathroom with half his dolled up face gone and the other half determined to stay on in spite of the sweat beads dribbling down his forehead. As Hoffman took the first step out of the stall he paused at the sink and held onto the porcelain tightly. He had no idea how much it would fucking hurt to walk after he got fucked. Strahm didn’t seem to notice the pain he was in as his hands squeezed his ass cheeks.

“Agent, you’re losing your cool.” Hoffman teased him

“It’s all I’m good for apparently.” Strahm shot back, making one more desperate attempt to be connected to his detective partner with benefits. He kissed along the hem of Hoffman’s neckline before walking out of the bathroom completely

“Fucking tease.” Hoffman huffed as he washed his hands and followed his fake husband’s lead and met him in the hallway. Some men happened to walk by in that moment, and after giving Strahm a once over look, they continued their conversation they were having previously. Strahm quickly wrapped an arm around Hoffman’s waist and led him out of the building. Hoffman wrapped an arm around Strahm’s neck and crooned for him as they passed the guard they dealt with early that morning to get in. They were over the top in their display of newlywed affection, but they were definitely selling it. Strahm barely made it to the parameter of the car before Hoffman was pushing him into the vehicle. Strahm’s hands found their way back to caressing Hoffman’s ass cheeks as his tongue worked its way into Mark’s mouth.

“Wonder who’s watching us, don’t you Agent?”

“No.” Strahm moaned, wrapping his hands around the back of Hoffman’s neck. “Get in the car.”

“Fine. No need to be so rough, agent.” Hoffman unhooked the other man’s hands, purposefully rolling his ‘r’ along his tongue for longer than was necessary. Strahm unglued himself from the side of the vehicle and shoved himself into the driver’s seat. He backed the sedan up with reckless abandon and sped out of the DMV. He pulled into their hotel parking lot and before he could shut his car off, Hoffman’s hand brushed over Strahm’s hand on the gear shift and locked their fingers. He pulled Strahm’s hand up to his lips and kissed Strahm as he locked eyes with the special agent. His special agent. “Wait.”

“What?” Strahm mumbled. Hoffman fumbled through his purse and pulled out his tube of lipstick before applying a fresh layer, only to use the back of Strahm’s hand to blot it off. It left a clear impression on the detective’s skin and Strahm bucked his hips up a little in response. “I can’t wait any longer. You’re a damn tease.”

“If I’m a tease, then you’re a con man.” Hoffman quickly countered, but acquiesced and got out of the car. He leaned up against the window and flashed their key card, “Hurry it up, hubby.”

“I’m hurrying.” Strahm remarked, wrestling with his seat belt to get out of the car that much quicker. Hoffman was five steps ahead of the agent and purposefully closed the door behind himself in the elevator. Strahm hit the door once before getting looks at from the family who had just stepped off. Strahm made a beeline to the stairs, thanking god they were only on the fourth floor and practically sprinted up the stairs. Nearly out of breath, the agent made it up to the door of their room and felt himself up to find the hotel key, only to realize that Hoffman had the only copy on him. He knocked on the door and Hoffman opened it up. It took him seconds to get to the point where Strahm could slip in, but with his level of arousal Strahm could’ve sworn it took Hoffman hours to open the damn door. When the door closes behind him, he pins Hoffman’s back to the door and they enter another cycle of sloppy, wet kisses between the two men.

“Careful agent, my back goes any further into this door and you’ll tear the damn thing off its hinges.”

“I’d enjoy that.” Strahm growled

“I bet you would, dick.” Hoffman smirked, wiping his smeared lipstick from the side of Strahm’s lips. Strahm glanced to the side as something black appeared in the corner of his eye. Hoffman’s stretched out waist trainer laid on the floor and there was a much more noticeable curve underneath Hoffman’s dress. “Now tell me Agent Strahm, what do you need from me so badly you came running up here all out of breath for?”

“Maybe I was just coming for some post-coitus cuddles.” Strahm replied dryly. Strahm tried to kiss Hoffman’s lips again, but Hoffman turned his head away. Strahm’s lips however did connect with the wooden door

“Just answer me, then we’ll both get what we want.” Hoffman’s fingers walked along the back of Strahm’s neck, smoothing down the raised hairs in his path. Strahm shook his head, trying to overcome the goosebumps that were spreading across his body with anticipation

“I’m going to fuck your tits.” Strahm blurted out

“Dress on or off, you pervert?” Hoffman leaned in and bit down on Strahm’s lower lip

“On.” Strahm pulled Hoffman over to the bed, guiding the detective over by his wrist. He shoved the detective down onto the floor on his knees before him. He ran a hand through the fibers of the wig and pulled on the back slightly, moving the hairline back to reveal Hoffman’s natural brown. Hoffman shot him a look before fixing his wig quickly. “This isn’t going to work…”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Here.” Strahm pulled Hoffman back up onto his feet before shoving him onto their bed. The detective unbuckled his belt and let his pants slide off onto the floor. He carefully positioned himself over Hoffman before sitting on Hoffman’s ribs. The shift in weight was enough to make Mark miss a breath of air and he glared up at his agent. “Just hold your boobs together and take it, princess.”

“So fucking rough to your wife.” Hoffman griped, but held his pecs together and gave Strahm a perfect divot for him to fuck himself with. Strahm shoved himself between Hoffman’s chest and let his eyes roll to the back of his head. With a thrust Strahm was swallowed by pleasure. The fabric of Hoffman’s dress gave him a rough surface to fuck against while his ass kept pressing itself up against the soft fat of Hoffman’s belly. Strahm came almost unceremoniously quick, stopping his thrusts to make sure that his semen filled the divot in Hoffman’s chest where his head connected to the rest of his body. When that crevice was full, the semi-fluid matter spilled down towards Hoffman’s collarbones. When he was spent, Strahm carefully crawled off the man below him and laid on his back on the bed. Some dull thing began to ache along his spine. They sat in silence for a moment before Hoffman sat up and went to the bathroom to clean himself off. Strahm was almost ashamed of his stamina, but remembered he’d already used up more than half of it back in the FBI building. Hoffman came back out, this time without his clothes or his wig and lied in bed next to Strahm. When it didn’t seem like the agent was going to make the first move, Hoffman rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Strahm. Strahm made a soft grunting noise as the other man’s arms snaked around his back. Hoffman went one step further and kissed Strahm’s cheek before turning Strahm’s face towards his own.

“What?” Strahm gave him a confused look

“Aren’t you going to hold your bride? You couldn’t keep your hands off of me earlier.” Hoffman protested

“My back hurts.” Strahm complained, but scooped an arm around Hoffman’s shoulders. He was nice enough to lift the covers up over their cooling bodies. “Good job.”

“Huh?”

“Good job. With the fake marriage thing.” Strahm’s face turned a soft red

“My pleasure, honey.” Hoffman rested a hand against Strahm’s stomach before pressing his lips onto Strahm’s. Strahm returned the kiss quietly and moved his free hand to rest against Hoffman’s cheek. He thumbed the soft flesh before humming a tune. “You know…”

“What do I know?” Strahm responded

“This was a shit honeymoon.”

“Huh?”

“Hell you don’t even buy me a ring, and the first thing you do is make me sign off on some papers. Really gets the blood going.” Hoffman scoffed, “At the very least, you could take me out for a real dinner.”

“Fine. Tonight?”

“No. I want something when we get back. I’m thinking somewhere in the village?”

“I fucking hate trying to park in the village.” Strahm complained

“Or midtown.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“I know I am.” Hoffman purred ever so slightly, having more fun with this back and forth cat and mouse game with Strahm than he could have ever expected.

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echo-writes-things · 1 year

Note

Hi I’m angsty anon😛 I recently got back into the saw movies and am now hyperfixating on them after seeing saw x in theaters. Wondering if I could request a fic about the father/daughter relationship between Amanda and John? Wondering if you could write Amanda getting the shit beat out of her like how Eric beat her up and John’s reaction, what he would do, if he would clean her wounds and take care of her, etc.

YES I CAN I LOVE SAW I COULD KISS YOU ANGSTY ANON IVE BEEN SO DESPERATE FOR SAW ASKS

Psycho Family Headcannons:

Let’s be real Amanda gets into fights a lot. Not even on purpose it just follows her wherever she goes

John always patches her up and tries to make it a lesson. That classic old man “we can learn from this” fatherly advice

It’s a ritual every time they run out of bandaids Amanda gets to pick new bandaids (yes she picks princess bandaids not for herself but to make hoffman use them)

John always hates that he can’t step in and stop Amanda’s fights. He’d ask Hoffman to do it but we all know he’s go “no no I wanna see what happens”

One VERY RARE occasion Amanda had to go to Jill for help getting patched up instead of John because he was gone probably for a doctor’s appointment. It was awkward but they both appreciated the experience

John is gone a lot for doctors appointments (cancer check ups usually happen every 3-6 weeks depending on the stage at least that’s what I experienced) each time he comes back he hears Amanda getting into a fight.

Eventually he pulls the “I won’t always be here to fix you..” and she bursts into tears (see what I did there? I referenced Saw III)

One day Amanda got into a real bad fight with a victim, blood everywhere and most of it was her own.

John when full panic. “What happened?! Who did this to you? How are you feeling? Anything broken? Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

Amanda calmed him down but he still made her sit her gay ass down so he could patch her up.

John may know some stuff about simple first aid but anything past that he’s lost. Stitches? He can barely hold his hand still. But he’ll put some gauze on it and if need be he’ll have Hoffman do it since he’d definitely know more about that sort of thing.

If she’s crying he’s wiping her tears and telling her that it’s all gonna be okay. “I’m here now. Let’s get you cleaned up”

She called him dad once when she was crying from being hurt and he had a wave of emotions. He has mixed feelings being called dad. It was meant to be for his son after all, not this homicidal maniac druggie he picked up off the street. But he lets it slide after a while and eventually gets used to it

Hoffman never makes fun of Amanda while she’s hurt but once she’s cleaned up he bullies her relentlessly

John then has to break up the fight between his two mentally unstable children, “you shouldn’t be fighting each other like this. Honestly you’re both acting like preschoolers”

John isn’t one for “treats”. He’s not gonna give someone a lollipop for not crying during their shot you feel me? So he doesn’t really give Amanda anything after he patches up her wounds. He’ll give her a pat on the back and encouraging words like “you’re strong and you’re smarter than fighting aimlessly like this.”

John is against the whole “Don’t start fights but you can finish them”. He thinks people should just walk away entirely. Silly man doesn’t realize you can’t always walk away, Amanda has tried explaining that but he won’t listen

Amanda is desperate for hugs from John. She never asks for them verbally but he can catch on when she needs one

Despite him practically being bed ridden his hugs are firm as fuck, one of those hugs where you kinda cry a little no matter who you are, just from how nice it feels

Sorry it’s not a fic! I might write an actual fic using these but I’ve had these headcannons held in my brain ever since I saw these tragic mentally ill people. I’ve got so many headcannons and theories please people send in asks for them.

#please I love this tragic found family #they love and hate each other at the same time #all deranged #they hold a special place in my sad little hesrt #horror #saw #saw vi #mark hoffman #amanda young #saw viii #saw x #saw iii #saw ii #saw headcannons #john kramer #jigsaw #jigsaw apprentices #detective hoffman

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corn-fanfiction · 9 months

Text

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Mark Hoffman x F!Reader) (Pt. 12)

(Pt. 11) (Pt. 13)

Rated: M

Tags/TWs: aftercare/ language/ past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader's life is complicated/ Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/ Detective Gibson/slight description of bloody boo boos

“You know what I was thinking?”

You and Mark lay in your bed. He's caressing your head and you have a hand resting on his broad chest. Your bodies are slack from sex and you're still coming down from the high.

“What's that?”

“Something Gibson said,” you feel Mark stiffen. “No, not that. But…I think he had a point. A shitty one, but maybe true? He said that I was wasting my life. My talent.”

“Prick doesn't know what he's talking about.”

“I don't know. Maybe not. But still, it got me thinking…what if I could be doing more?”

“What if?”

“You gonna talk in more than one sentence at a time?”

“Fine. Do you remember what you said when we first met?”

“Um…I'm pretty sure I said a lot. Which part?”

“You said that you keep your life small on purpose. That it was control.”

“I said that?”

“You know you did.”

“Hm.” You kiss his bicep. “What about it?”

“Well, what if your desire for control is what's holding you back? That you're scared of letting it go?”

“You're a psych now?”

“Alright, fine.”

He goes to move from the bed but you pull him back playfully. He falls, you hold him to you and run your fingers through his hair.

“I don't know…you know, I have a BFA.”

He smiles up at you. “No shit.”

“Yep. English. Wanted to go into publishing.”

“So why didn't you?”

You shrug. “Ted. Needed me to work so I put everything else on hold.”

“What about now?”

“I don't know. How do I move away from the control without being afraid to fail?”

“Well, you just have to trust that someone will catch you.”

You laugh a little. “No one can guarantee that. We're all alone at one point or another.”

“Not you. Not again.”

“Yes, even me. Things happen, Mark.”

Sensing your shift in mood, Mark sits up and brings you with him.

“Hey, look at me. You're never gonna be alone again, you hear me? Never. I won't let it happen.”

You stare deep into his eyes and can barely see color for the way his pupils are blown. His breathing is heavy. He means it.

You almost feel bad for getting him worked up so you pull him in for a kiss. A hand comes to rest on the side of your neck and you sigh, leaning into his touch.

“I guess I never really thought about what else my life could be. Never thought I'd have time.”

“You do. As long as you're with me, I guarantee it.”

Maybe something about that phrasing should strike you as odd but when he takes you into another kiss you hardly care, just allow yourself to fall into him.

If he wasn't so caught up in you, Mark would be horribly bored.

Nothing at his day job, and his night job is suspended indefinitely until he can shake the precinct from you.

It's a standard day of Mark clocking in, going to his office, paperwork, patrol, stopping by some crime scenes.

It's a standard day, until he gets a phonecall.

“Hoffman.”

“Mark!”

Mark creases his brow in curious thought. “Gibson?”

“Hey, we’re down at the abandoned museum on the Bailey Waterfront. We need you down here now.”

The corner of Mark’s mouth quirks up. “Hang on, let me get my recorder. Say that again.”

“Dammit, Mark. I’m being serious. It’s an active Jigsaw trap. I’m not stupid enough to think you won’t be helpful here.”

Fuck! Mark curses to himself. Who the fuck is this guy?

“Alright, I’m on my way.”

You get the call in the middle of work and you have Gerri speed you from the restaurant to the hospital. They don't mind to do it, of course, especially considering the fact that you can't stop shaking. It's bad enough that Mark's a cop; it's even worse that he's attached to the Jigsaw case, even if unofficially at this point.

You have to press your forehead to the cool glass of the window simply to focus on that sensation, rather than the nausea emanating through your bones. You've never been a patient person. Today it's worse.

The receptionist directs you and Gerri back to the ICU where you're turned around by five different attendings until you finally find the area occupied by Mark and Gibson. Mark's jacket and button up are off and he's in the process of getting stitches in his leg.

“Jesus,” you gasp, actually getting a good look at the drying blood and the new blood that oozes from the wound. He has other garden variety scrapes and bruises, but the worst of it seems to be the leg.

But he smiles when he sees you.

“Hey, baby.”

You sigh in partial relief and hug him the way you can from his spot sitting on the bed. He presses his head to your chest and you circle his scalp with your fingernails.

“What happened?” You ask as the panic begins to settle some more. He's calm, so you're growing calmer.

Mark hesitates and you clock it. You look over at Gibson.

“What the hell happened?” You repeat, this time with an obvious accusatory tone laced into your words now that they're directed at Gibson.

“It was another trap, I called Mark in.”

Fury shoots up your spine. “So you kick him off the case just to bring him back in and get him sent to the fucking hospital???”

You make a move towards Gibson but Mark lands a gentle hand on your bicep.

“Hey, he saved me.”

You look between them, your anger paused.

“What?”

“Got caught in the crossfire of a trap. Some buckshot. Gibson pushed me out of the way before I got fifty holes in me-”

You can't listen to it anymore without visualizing it perfectly and you hold him again. Maybe he senses the severity of your concern because he holds you back with his free hand.

“Hey, hey I'm alright.”

But all you can see are those photos of Ted that Gibson showed you with his body bloated and his limbs removed. Mark getting even a whiff of a bullet has tears pooling at your eyes. Any other day you'd kick yourself for being so weak, so vulnerable in front of strangers and, worse, Gibson.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper into Mark's hair. “I can't. I can't lose-”

“Hey, baby, sit down.”

You hear the scrape of a chair behind you and you sit.

“Thanks, Gerr,” Mark says. You reach behind you to hold their hand.

“You don't have to stay.”

“You sure? I don't mind.”

“I know and I appreciate that. I'll be fine.”

“Alright.” Gerri gives your hand a final squeeze and smiles at Mark before leaving. Over Mark's shoulder, you can't help but notice Gibson watching the interaction. You also finally notice that he's alone. And even though you hate him, he still saved Mark, and you feel a stab of pity in your heart.

“Gibson? You okay to get home?”

His eyes widen in surprise, not only that you'd talk to him, but that your words are suddenly considerate.

“Of course. They didn't take my legs,” he responds with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.

“You're right, I'll never ask about your well-being again.”

“Oh, so nothing will change.”

You decide that you're done with the interaction so you lean your cheek against Mark's shoulder and wrap your hands around his large one, content to stay as close to him as possible.

You take Mark home. You've never been to his apartment but the doctors said that he shouldn't drive on his hurt leg. You can't help but sneak glances over at him. He's sweating, still coming down from the pain. His face reflects yours only hours ago. His eyes are closed, his forehead resting against the cool glass. You're reminded of the instincts that overtook you during your movie night. But what you want now, to rest your hand on his neck then up through his hair. To kiss his eyelids as he falls asleep. He feels safe around you. Your heart swells at the thought.

His house is really nice, all rich and dark wood. You carry him into the living room and sit him on a leather sofa. He lifts his arm and flicks on a Tiffany lamp.

You press the back of your hand to his forehead.

“When did they give you a fever reducer?”

“It's been a minute,” he grunts, turns his head.

“Okay. Bathroom?”

He gestures to the back hallway by the staircase. You quickly tuck a lock of hair behind his ear before disappearing to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and giving it some cold water. You bring it back and lay it across Mark's forehead. He sighs into the sensation, and you're not proud of the way the sound makes you feel.

You like making him feel good. You like taking care of him.

Mark sits up to retrieve some preplaced glass of water from the coffee table and takes a long gulp. You watch as some of the water escapes the corners of his mouth and drips down the muscles of his neck. You swallow.

When he finishes, he gasps. He opens his eyes and finds yours.

“You can't look at me like that right now,” he mutters, lids heavy with sleepiness from the drugs.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper with a small smile, stroking his hair.

“It's not fair,” he's getting sleepier.

“I know, I'm sorry. I'm mean.”

He turns into your arm and kisses the soft skin there. He hums.

“I love you.”

And you're too stunned to acknowledge those words before he's snoring softly in your arms.

You wake up to banging.

You jump, jostling Mark who's still in your embrace. He's not quite awake but the sudden noise has you on high alert. You grip Mark's arm just in case you need to shake him awake. You're almost certain it was a banging on the front door.

Silence. You're frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

The banging comes again and you jump.

“Mark! Mark, open the door.”

Now that's interesting, you think, slightly less afraid at Gibson's voice coming through the door but still on edge, because it's- you check the clock- 3 am.

You decide to wake Mark. He grumbles.

“Mark. Mark, I think Gibson's at the door.”

More banging. Mark is managing to open his eyes. At the very least you need the noise to stop, so you help Mark to a sitting position and go to the door yourself. When you open it, you see Gibson on the other side…with about five other cops behind him. Your stomach drops. He looks about as surprised to see you as you do him and his entourage. But he also looks exhausted, like he hasn't stopped moving since he left the hospital hours ago.

“Where is he?”

Your grip on the lip of the door tightens.

“What's going on?”

“Move.”

“No.”

You can't stop yourself from saying it. You can't believe it, but you also know immediately what this is. It's impossible, and you're not going to let it happen.

“Obstruction of justice. You want to get charged, too?”

Gibson looks over your shoulder and you follow his eyes. Mark stands in the hall, or limps, rather. You want to go to him, of course you do, but you can't move.

“I'm not gonna tell you again,” comes Gibson's voice. You look between the two men, count the police outside one more time just to be certain.

“You can't,” you whisper to Gibson, your voice wavering.

“I ain't got a choice.”

Gibson pushes in past you and your back hits the wall. Mark limps towards you but doesn't make it far before two officers have a hold of him, cuffing his wrists behind his back. He fights, what little he can, and one cracks him under the knee. He cries out in pain.

“Stop it!” You shout and run forward, but not before someone can catch you around the waist. “He's fucking hurt!! He was hurt doing his job! This isn't fair!”

“Mark Hoffman, you're under arrest under suspicion of conspiracy to murder and active murder, specifically for the killing of Theodore Simpson-” your heart cracks at Ted's name. “And many others. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you on a court of law-”

Gibson carries on but you push your way to Mark, managing to touch his face one more time.

“I'm gonna get you out of this, okay? I don't know how but I will-”

Someone has you again and Mark…Mark is silent. Doesn't return any affection or offer any of his own. His eyes stare you down though, like he's trying to communicate something. But before you have even a chance of deciphering what that could be, they're walking him out the door.

You do attempt to follow but Gibson has a firm grip on your arm. On instinct, you swing your free hand around to hit him but he catches that one too, and twists you to where both hands are caught and you wince in pain.

“Don't try to fight me.”

“Fucking let go!”

“I get that this is hard. Don't make it worse for yourself.”

You struggle a bit more and he finally lets you go, but by the time he does, the cruiser with Mark inside is already on the main road. You curse, cry, punch the door and grab your hair.

“Fuck you. This isn't fair.”

“There is hard evidence. I know you don't wanna believe it-”

“You were just at the site with him-!”

“I don't know what happened, but it happened, okay?”

He's got you cornered, but almost in a way that is an attempt at calming you. Like you're a wild animal.

“No. I don't believe you. Or I don't believe that it's real. Someone's setting him up.”

Gibson rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It doesn't make sense! If it was Mark, why would he have stuck around for this long. Are you saying he put himself in that trap a year ago? Does that part make sense?”

“So I don't have it all figured out! But there is reason enough to put him behind bars, at least until we get this thing straight.”

You're all turned around. There are a couple more officers watching your interaction while they should probably be locking the place down-

Oh. Mark's apartment is probably a crime scene now.

“I, uh-”

“Come on. Let's get you home.”

Gibson goes for the door but notices you not following him.

“Don't make this difficult, for the love of god.”

“There's no fucking way I'm getting in a car with you.”

Gibson sighs in exasperation.

“Look. What happened the other day was completely unprofessional and I'm sorry. Shouldn't have happened. But please. Can this night just be over?”

You don't budge.

“Motherfuck- Zimmerman!” Gibson calls over his shoulder. One of the cops comes running. “I'm telling you, in front of her, that I am going to take her home now. If something happens to her, or if for whatever reason she doesn't make it home, you know she was with me. This is me alleviating her fears. Got it?”

The poor cop looks between the two of you before nodding in a slight and confused panic.

“Good. Get back to work.”

Gibson turns back to you as Zimmerman sprints back to his job.

“Alright. Shall we?”

You can't be alone. You hate it. The one person you rely on to keep you comforted in this strange brand of insanity is now locked into it.

You try to get something, anything out of Gibson in the car but he's tight-lipped. Once he drops you off, you lock your front door and sit behind it. Then you make it to your couch, then to the bathtub, filling it with scalding water.

I don’t know. This is the second time you’ve been involved. First time, you’re a witness and get his operation shut down. Second time it’s your ex in a trap. Not to mention…

I’m just saying, who else has been there the first time, and a second time?

If anyone of us would be Jigsaw, it would be Hoffman.

Irony of ironies, you never did like puzzles, and you certainly don't love being the supposed center of one. But this one is looking a little too clear. Like the picture on the box is insultingly simple and yet you insist there are pieces missing. It's a 100 piece puzzle. Just figure out the edges and work your way in.

Yes, coincidences can be bizarre and yes, they can fuck up a life. But when do you stop and take stock, and say “something about this isn't right?”

Is it when the man you love may or may not be a serial killer?

Yes, this is where most people would stop.

You grit your teeth as the water burns you.

Do you maintain some semblance of control by cutting your losses? Because at this point there is a very good chance Mark could go to jail. And with the surmounting evidence, most people would think he deserves it.

And yet you haven't seen any evidence, only heard theories that make sense when you, or they want them to make sense.

If only you could talk to Mark…

But you know they won't let you anywhere near them.

So you need someone else. Someone close to it like he is. Like you are. Someone who's been there.

You drain the tub. You wrap yourself in a robe and sit at your computer.

You've got work to do.

#mark hoffman #fanfiction #mark hoffman x reader #saw fanfic

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theflirtmeister · 9 months

Note

Domestic hoffheight :( need some cocaine inducing fluff of the guys ever :( some chicken noodle soup for the soul

On the third day, Adam demanded his bed back.

Mark refused to move from his cocoon of bloodstained pillows and sheets, because fuck whatever Adam said. His entire body ached, one moment cold, the next burning hot, and the new stitches up the side of his face prevented him from eating anything more challenging than soup. He had spent the last three days drifting in and out of sleep, pretending not to notice when Adam checked his forehead for a temperature, or tucked the blankets around him.

Now Adam was standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring. His apartment was exactly the kind of shithole that Mark had been expecting when he dragged himself up the flights of stairs, dripping blood onto the concrete steps. There were band posters and club flyers stuck to the walls, clothes strewn on the floor and on the backs of chairs. It felt like student living, but Adam was too old to be a student, and was now just pathetic.

“Get up,” Adam said. “I’m sick of sleeping on the couch.”

“Didn’t ask you to sleep there.” Mark rasped. His throat hurt from screaming, everything raw and tender.

“You didn’t give me much choice,” Adam said. “I had nowhere else to put you.”

Mark shuffled a little to the right-hand side of the bed, but didn’t otherwise evacuate. He was comfy, and the idea of sleeping on the sofa whilst trying to keep his face from falling apart didn’t sound ideal. Adam had sewn him up with the same thread he used to patch his jeans – Mark was surprised he didn’t complete the look with a safety pin.

“Good enough,” Adam muttered, and climbed onto the bed. “You’re a real dick, you know that Hoffman?”

Mark didn’t reply. Adam lay beside him like a corpse, staring up at the ceiling, hands by his sides. He was wearing his version of pyjamas, an old band shirt and a pair of boxers that slipped down his hips. His skin was goose-pimpled, and Mark started to tug at the covers, because watching Adam freeze for the sake of martyrdom was pathetic.

“What are you doing you weirdo-” Adam started, and Mark managed to pull him underneath the thin sheets, before Adam could protest further.

Adam went very still and quiet as Mark arranged the two of them, until Adam’s back was pressed up against Mark’s stomach. He was cold to the touch, and Mark wrapped one arm around Adam’s waist, burying his nose in Adam’s hair. He smelt like cigarettes and laundry detergent, unlike the horrible rot he had stunk of when Mark had gone to collect his corpse from Kramer’s bathroom.

“You’re going to get blood on me.” Adam muttered as Mark rubbed his face against Adam.

“You wanted the bed back,” Mark replied hoarsely. “Shut up and be happy.”

“Thrilled,” Adam said sarcastically. “I love having you snorting in my ear like the fucking pig you are.”

Mark shoved his nose into Adam’s ear and inhaled loudly, causing Adam to squirm away from him in disgust. Mark gave a wheeze of a laugh as Adam furiously rubbed at the side of his face – annoying him was so easy.

“You’re the worst.” Adam snapped. “I take you into my home, and you bleed all over my things and cry all the time and slobber on me.”

“I didn’t cry.” Mark prodded Adam’s back.

“Did cry.” Adam muttered. “When you were delirious and throwing up over yourself. It was real fucking pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic.” Mark replied lamely.

He didn’t want to know what he had said when his body was going through shock – whose names he’d called out, what secrets he’d spilt to Adam. He can barely remember the first day, but has a faint memory of being held on the floor, Adam’s fingers digging into his wrist as he screamed in pain. He thinks he may have begged for Angelina.

“Great comeback,” Adam said. “Ever considered a career in comedy Hoffman, instead of serial killing?”

“Fuck you,” Mark said, resisting the urge to prod him again. “I should have left you chained up.”

“Who else would sew your ugly face back together?” Adam asked. “Everyone else is dead.”

“Shut up,” Mark grunted and dragged Adam back towards him, tangling their legs together.

Adam, surprisingly, didn’t put up a fuss, allowing Mark to hold him. He must have felt some sympathy for Mark, or else was nervous that Mark would bite his throat open if he kicked him away. Mark hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since he was a child; one-night stands rarely stayed the night, and it was strange yet familiar to listen to Adam’s quickened breathing.

“I’m making you get out of bed tomorrow,” Adam said, his voice quiet. “Even if it’s just to sit on my fucking couch. No more feeling sorry for yourself.”

Mark could have protested. He could have screamed and shouted and threatened Adam, hidden under the covers like a child. Instead, he nodded his head, tightening his grip around Adam’s skinny waist. If he slipped his hand underneath Adam’s shirt, he could have counted every rib. Mark wondered if Adam had as many as his original namesake.

“Okay,” Mark said. “I’ll leave the bed.”

“Good,” Adam said, and reached across to turn out the light, the room cast into an ominous level of darkness. At least there was still a strip of light underneath the doorframe leading to the outside hall, and Mark stared at it until his vision blurred. “You better not snore.”

“No promises.” Mark grunted, and closed his eyes.

He listened to the sound of Adam settling down for sleep, arranging his arms in several positions before he was comfortable. He was warm as he pressed himself against Mark’s stomach, hair tickling Mark’s nose. Mark’s jaw throbbed, and he chewed the other side of his cheek to try and distract himself from the pain.

“Goodnight.” Adam said suddenly, and Mark gave him another squeeze.

“Night.” He said, and let sleep swallow him up.

#ANSWERED #Nice Anon #hoffheight #pipeshipping #this is as fluffy as i can go for this ship I'm SORRY #please schedule correctly tumblr #also should i bother to put this + my other long anon ask fic on ao3??#sound off in the comments #ANYWAY thought about mark going to adam for help and had to have a lie down x #what are they!! what's the relationship!! adam's going to wake up to mark dry humping him as a sign of romance <3

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vampirebloodie · 11 months

Text

Nightmares | Mark Hoffman x Reader

Summary: You are a surviving player in an interrogation and Mark helps you with the pressure of the police and with your motherhood

Nightmares about that night still haunted your thoughts when it was time to go to bed. He was right, you made a mistake and paid for it. A mistake that in your eyes was perhaps not so serious, but in John Kramer's mind it was. You were a professional thief, but you acted that way out of pure survival. Your mistake was robbing a woman, who was later revealed to be Jill Tuck, John's ex-wife, you stole a small amount of money, but the scare you gave her made her feel sick and end up in the hospital, you didn't realized that she was pregnant.

But you were reborn, as he said, you learned from your mistake and survived, with several injuries, but you survived. The police wanted you to make a statement saying more about that night, but what could you say? Accuse a dead man? Have you been marked as a future player before your game? You should reveal your crimes and possibly go to prison? Had Jigsaw tried to touch your son?

“Whenever you want, miss Y/N.”

The detective looked at you with a certain judgmental look, you couldn't take the small, cramped room any longer. Ubneeded some air to breathe before you panicked right then and there.

“I don’t know if i feel comfortable telling everything that happened.”

“You know that a statement could help the police a lot, right? We want to know who the apprentices are, you have good information.”

The detective tried, unsuccessfully, to pressure you into saying everything, but you were afraid of what might happen if you told everything, afraid that whoever set it up would come after you because you said it.

“I did some things wrong, maybe that’s why Jigsaw came after me.”

“It’s his modus operandi, Jigsaw never messes with an innocent person.”

You were a little uncomfortable with her judgment, but you just tried to ignore it as much as possible.

“Whoever attacked you was wearing this?”

The woman suddenly threw a pig mask under the table, you felt your throat close and your breathing become more labored and your heart beat faster every second. With tears in your eyes, you left the interrogation room, running through the hallways as you heard the woman's voice calling you.

You felt your back hurt from the impact when you hit the ground, you had just bumped into someone, a little dizzy you felt someone pull you up and lift you up.

"Are you ok?"

He was a tall man, probably also from the police since he was wearing a badge. No matter how much he asked, it wasn't like he cared, he kept a cold look on his face. As if he already knew you.

“Detective Hoffman. This is Y/N, she was giving a statement. Y/N, can we...”

The detective interrupted the woman before she could continue.

“Agent Perez. That's enough. I’ll take it from here.”

The woman gave you one last look before leaving. You couldn't hold back the tears and broke down, the detective suddenly hugged you, comforting you, you let go of the tears that had been trapped for days while he lightly stroked your hair.

“I-I’m sorry...”

Without giving you time to respond, he left, pulling you by the arm through the corridors of the police station. A little rough, perhaps. Maybe he is a bipolar.

“If I were you i wouldn't say much, they say he comes after those who talk too much. By the way, i think there’s someone in my office who will want to see you.”

It sounded like a threat to you, but maybe the trauma was just making you too scared of anything. You went to Hoffman's office, who turned to get coffee from his desk.

“Do you want to drink something, coffee, tea? I think it will help you relax a little.”

You got the tea, since that happened and you didn't sleep well at night, the fear of something happening again was greater, that pig mask.... Amanda Young.... Oh yes, Amanda was with you on the day of Jill's accident, you owed her a certain amount of money, the threats she made to you were making you upset and scared, you had a sick son, you couldn't let him be hurt because of your mistake, so you decided to obey her and steal Jill.

After these events Amanda had disappeared, until you discovered that she had also escaped from one of the traps.

“Where is he?”

“Look at him there.”

Your son came out of the bathroom with a toy dinosaur in hand. You immediately ran towards him and picked him up, hugging him tightly and kissing his face over and over again.

“My baby, I'm glad you're okay, I was so worried.”

You tried not to cry. Maybe you weren't as good a mother as you promised his father before he passed away.

“Mommy, uncle Mark took care of me! He’s the one who gave me this dinosaur, look!”

He smiled showing the green dinosaur to you, you looked at Hoffman who had a slight smile on his face.

“Oh yes, he is so pretty. Thanks for taking care of him, Detective Hoffman, thank you very much. How do you say it, son?”

You released the boy who quickly ran and hugged Hoffman's legs who hugged him a little awkwardly, he didn't seem to have much use with children.

“Thanks uncle Mark!”

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome. It was nothing, Y/N, i couldn’t leave him helpless alone.”

"Thanks again. Well, it's late, i think we're going to home. Goodbye, Hoffman.”

You picked up your son again and turned to walk away when he grabbed your hand.

“You know it's dangerous to walk alone now, don't you? Let me take you home. My work is over.”

Clearly a gentleman, he was right, going to the train station at a time like that wasn't very pleasant. You just agreed and then went to the parking lot together.

--------------------------------

The walk home was silent, your son had slept on the way, he looked so tired. When you didn't sleep, he didn't sleep either, especially with the nightmares that made you wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

“We’re here. Thanks, Mark.”

You smiled and got out of the car, going to grab your son from the backseat. Hoffman also came out and opened the back door.

“You must be tired, i'll take you inside. Do you mind?"

Okay, after all, taking an unknown man to your house might not be a good idea. But he was from the police and he was armed, if anything happened he could defend you.

“Hmmm, okay, i don’t mind.”

He took the sleeping boy in his arms and you entered the building, where you went up the stairs until you stopped in front of your door, which you soon opened.

“His room is here.”

Hoffman placed the boy on the bed and covered him with the colorful sheet.

“I owe you one.”

“You can pay now, i just need your number.”

He gave you his cell phone and you laughed, putting in your number and saving it in your contacts.

“Debt paid, miss Y/N, sleep well and lock everything up. Was a pleasure to meet you"

"The pleasure is mine..."

He said goodbye and then left the house, closing the door. You locked everything and lay in bed with your son, still silly. Hoffman was an interesting guy, who knows, maybe the two of you would get along?

#imagines #saw #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #saw x reader #costas mandylor

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grxmreaperx · 11 months

Note

ok alright listen...brat tamer Hoffman x f!reader.

I AM ON MY KNEES I am weak

i LOVE this!! that man is the biggest brat tamer in the world, no one is changing my mind!

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+!! Porn with no plot. This is filth. Reader being a brat, spanking, dirty talk, masturbation (m!), p in v penetration, degradation.

Summary: When you’re bored at home by yourself, you decide to make a quick call to your boyfriend while he’s at work. And maybe add in a picture or two to really get his attention.

“Detective Hoffman.”

As soon as he picked up the phone, you felt yourself smile. “Hi, Detective.”

He could tell from the sultry tone of your voice what you were up to. You heard him suck in a breath. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” His voice held a warning, telling you not to play your games while he was at work.

“Nothing. I’m just bored,” you said, drawing out the last word.

“I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

“But I’m bored now!” you whined.

“I know, baby, but I need to work.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “I guess I’ll take care of myself then.”

You could practically see the look on his face: jaw clenched, eyes narrowed as he tried to keep himself from rushing home right then.

“Did I tell you that you could do that?”

“I don’t need your permission,” you said mockingly, knowing it would get under his skin.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhmm. I’ll see you later, Detective,” you said, hanging up before he could get another word in.

And, for good measure, you snapped a picture for him: spread out on your shared bed, wearing nothing but his shirt and your underwear.

You heard the front door slam shut about an hour later, your boyfriend’s footsteps getting closer to your room. You sat on the bed, staring at him innocently as he came through the door.

“Hi baby! How was your day?” you asked sweetly.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It was good, until you decided to call and act like a little brat.”

You forced a confused look onto your face. “What are you talking about? Was I acting like a brat?”

He shed his jacket, loosening his tie from around his neck. “Don’t play dumb with me, baby. You know exactly what you were doing. Taunting me, sending me that pretty picture.”

“Oh! That!”

He sat down on the edge of your bed. “Get your ass over here,” he demanded, motioning to his lap. You excitedly crawled over to him, straddling his legs. He grabbed your hips, forcing you back off. “No, no, no, sweetheart. Over my knees.”

You slowly positioned yourself, trying to hide your excitement, lying over his lap with your ass in the air.

“How many do you think you deserve, baby?”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t think I deserve any, I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

He chuckled, landing a slap on your ass. “Wrong answer, baby. Try again.”

“Ten?” you tried.

“That’s better. And you’re going to count them for me.”

“And what if I don’t wanna count them?” You hid your face in your bedsheets, hiding your smile.

“Well, then I guess I’ll just have to keep going until your ass is red and you’re begging me to fuck you.”

He ran a hand over your ass before landing another smack. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan building in your throat.

He waited for a moment, seeing if you would begin counting, or if you weren’t done with your little act.

When you stayed silent, he landed another.

And another.

“I won’t fuck you until you count, sweetheart. We can do this as long as you like. I’ve got all night.”

As he landed the next blow, the moan you had been suppressing finally escaped your lips, followed desperately by a “one.”

“Much better.”

Two.

Three.

Four.

He ran two fingers through your folds, letting out a low laugh. “You love being a brat, don’t you?” Five. “You love making me punish you, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whined, before counting the sixth blow.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Better.” Seven.

Your legs shook as you became more and more desperate, hips bucking slightly, looking for any sort of friction.

Mark pulled your head back by your hair, your back arching. He leaned down, bringing his mouth right next to your ear. “If you hadn’t been such a bad girl today, I could already be buried inside you. But no, you had to act like a little slut, didn’t you?” Eight.

Your ass stung and you knew you’d have handprints imprinted on you the next day. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whined. “Just wanted your attention.”

Nine. “Just wanted my attention, hm? Well now you’ve got it, sweetheart.”

“Ten!” you moaned as he finished your punishment.

“Good. Now get down on your knees.”

You sunk down to the floor in front of him, hands moving to unbuckle his belt. He grabbed your wrists, giving you a mocking smile. “Oh no, baby. Only good girls get to suck Daddy off. You get to kneel there and watch. Put your hands behind your back. If you move them, I won’t touch you for the rest of the night.”

An indignant noise left your throat, but you complied, placing your hands behind your back as he undid his pants.

His eyes locked onto yours as he placed a hand around the base of his cock, slowly stroking himself. You let out a whine, forcing yourself to keep your hands and hips still. The ache was becoming unbearable. You had wanted punished, you had wanted his full attention, but now all you wanted was to feel him.

His eyes roamed your body as he sped up. “Such a pretty slut, aren’t you? If you had been good, you wouldn’t have to be punished.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. Please…”

“Please what?”

Your nails dug into your palms as you forced your hands to stay in place. You felt your face heat up.

“Cmon baby, tell me what you want.”

“Please, I want you to fuck me.”

He let out a groan. “You think you’ve been punished enough? You gonna stop being such a little brat?”

You nodded frantically.

He considered you for a moment, hand lazily working his cock. He finally stood, motioning for you to bend over the bed. “Get up.”

You hurried to your feet, lying your front half onto the bed. You felt the head of his dick tease your entrance. “God, baby, you’re fuckin’ soaked. You love being a little whore, don’t you?”

“Yes!” you moaned, trying to push yourself back onto him.

He gripped your hips roughly, pushing into you all at once. Your mouth fell open as his hand found its way up your body, snaking its way around your front, gripping your throat. He forced your body up until your back was pressed against his chest as he fucked into you.

“Is this what you wanted baby? You wanted me to use you?”

You quickly let out a stream of “yes’s,” head falling back onto his shoulder.

He chuckled. “Not so much of a brat now, are you? Not so cocky when you’re full of my dick, are you baby?”

You cried out, too lost in your own pleasure to form an answer. You held tightly to his arm, trying to keep yourself grounded.

His other hand reached down, rubbing quick circles around your clit. You felt your body shake, getting closer to the edge. “Can I…” you began to ask, a whine forcing its way out of your throat.

“Go on, baby, cum for me.”

As soon as he whispered the words in your ear, you let go, your high washing over you. He wasn’t far behind you, emptying himself inside of you as you came down from your orgasm.

He slowly pulled out of you before softly grabbing your hips and turning you around to sit on the bed. You let out a contented sigh, lying back onto the sheets. He smirked, lying down next to you and pulling you to him, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Did you enjoy acting like a brat?” he asked, a small laugh leaving his lips.

You quickly nodded. You had gotten exactly what you had wanted.

tag list: @bee-who-isnt-french, @enigmatic-blues, @kujofam, @aliengutzstuff, @mysunfishpeedinmyroom, @slut4hoffman, @schrodingersjigsaw, @hoffmansnightmare, @karmaswitch, @mrs-hotforhoffman, @returntodustsblog, @capan-deveraux2, @switchbabeeexo, @librababe99

#saw #saw franchise #fanfic #mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #fanfiction #smut

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