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hoffstrap-yuri · 3 months

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Primadonna Girl

ao3 // masterlist

*Summary:

“I haven’t said ‘I love you’ in almost twelve hours.” “What makes you say that now?” “Just… thinking about how I want to say I love you.” “I love you too.” Mark leaned in and kissed Strahm’s cheek. Strahm took his foot off the brake and looked into Hoffman’s eyes. “Pete?” “Let’s get married.” “Peter, are you crazy?” Hoffman laughed.

*Rating: +18 for Explicit Mature Content

*Tags/Content: Crack Treated Seriously, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Fluff, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Feeding Kink, Hand Feeding, Feeding, Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, PWP, Domestic

*Status: Chapter 1 of 2/Complete. Link to Chapter Two Here.

Author's Note: You voted, you got it! A request for @markhoffmanluster who wanted more feeding and more drag Hoffman. I could never refuse the two for Mark. Running that poll was really pretty fun, I'll have to do some more in the future. But here's a little sequel to the sequel of my Hoffstrahm fake dating AU, I hope you'll enjoy!

“I love you.” Strahm curled his hands around the ends of the wig that his partner wore for him. He pressed his lips onto his and kissed him. His hands shifted to his partner’s back, taking a hold of the thick love handles he loved so dearly. He needed to drink in every last bit of his being, needed to be one with his love.

“I love you too.” His love finally responded to him, biting down on the inside of Strahm’s lip. “I love you so much… You know your lips would look prettier wrapped around my dick.”

“Shut up.” Strahm replied sternly before cracking. He smiled like a dope at the object of his affection and ran his hand across his chest. He kissed the divot in Hoffman’s chest where his neck met with his torso and sucked

“I’m going to get looks at the precinct if you don’t move that stupid mouth of yours lower.” His hand glided through Strahm’s hair

“Wear a shirt that covers your tits.” Strahm’s lips hardly left the surface of Hoffman’s skin as he spoke. He dug his knee into the space between Hoffman’s legs while the other man grinded up into him. “I love…”

“Don’t say it again. You’re gonna wear it out.” Mark’s arms wrapped his arms around the back of his neck. Strahm lifted the wig up from off Hoffman’s head and kissed along the indent in his forehead.

“I need you.”

“Need me how?” Hoffman raised an eyebrow, “You can have me right now.”

“No I mean… I need your everything.”

“You’re not making any damn sense, babe.”

“That’s okay… it’ll make sense.” Strahm sat next to Hoffman and wrapped an arm around his back

“So you just turned me on for nothing?” Hoffman teased him, palming at Strahm’s crotch.

“I can take care of you…” Strahm sat up a little before being pushed back down by the tips of Hoffman’s fingers

“No, it’s fine.” Hoffman kissed him, “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He nodded and lazily kissed his partner back. Hoffman rolled onto Strahm’s lap and looked into his eyes. “We need to go to bed.”

“Five more minutes.” Strahm grumbled, burying his head into the crook of Hoffman’s shoulder

“No.” Hoffman hauled himself up off Strahm’s lap then helped him up onto his feet. Strahm hadn’t realized how tired he was until he swayed as he stood and his eyes fluttered. Hoffman helped him to their bed and laid at his side. His fingers found their way through Mark’s hair and in turn Mark ran his hand over Strahm’s stomach.

“I love you…” Strahm whispered, his voice muffled by the pillow his head was rested against

“I love you too.” Hoffman rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder. Strahm’s arms looped around Hoffman’s stomach and he held onto him like the slightest crack in his touch would make Mark slip from his fingers. The light woke the special agent up in the morning and he lifted his head up to look for Hoffman. As if his partner read his mind, he appeared at the foot of their bed.

“Your turn.”

“Huh?”

“The shower. We have to go to work, Agent.”

“Yeah…”

“You seem distracted.” Hoffman’s hand crept up the inside of Strahm’s thigh

“Yeah, you have that effect on me.” Strahm shot back before getting up. He turned the water on but left it as cold as he could stand it, trying to kill the morning wood he had. He was going to do it. He was going to propose. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about it. Would Mark tell him he’d gone to far with their ruse? That he went off the deep end? He had the ring at the ready, he had a dinner reservation for the weekend… Mark knocked on the door,

“C’mon, we’re going to hit traffic if you stay in there.”

“I didn’t say you had to stay.” Strahm bit back a little

“Who else was going to tell your spoiled ass to keep moving?” Strahm heard Hoffman step away from the door. He dabbed on some aftershave and stepped out into the bedroom. His clothes were lying neatly on the bed and he could smell Mark working the toaster in the kitchen. He hurried into the outfit and shuffled downstairs as fast as he could, picking his shoes up from the entryway to throw on while he waited for his toast. The pieces popped out, and Hoffman grabbed them before throwing it onto a plate. Strahm finished tying his shoes before taking a bite and pressing his lips onto his partner’s cheek. Rather than focus on the food, Peter’s arms found their way around Hoffman’s center.

“You’re even more affectionate than usual. Hurry up.”

“We don’t have to rush. Lindsey knows.”

“I know she knows.” Mark rolled his eyes, “She wouldn’t be a very good agent if it’s taken her five months to realize her previously frigid co-worker was dating their point of contact.”

“I…” Strahm tried to rebuttal but couldn’t come up with anything more than a slightly disappointed “Yeah” at himself. His arm tightened its grip around Hoffman while his hand slid up the other man’s chest and rested against his cheek. “Let’s go out this weekend.”

“Out or out?” Mark put emphasis on the latter option

“Like I want to see your fat ass in a tight dress.” His lips hovered over Hoffman’s neck before pulling back. If they touched now, Perez wouldn’t see the two for another business day.

“It’s a date then.” Hoffman’s thumb ghosted over his boyfriend’s lips. Strahm looked down at the appendage before applying the softest of kisses onto it. Ever the romantic, Mark brought his thumb up to his own mouth and connected their kiss. “Let’s get to work.”

---

“Hey Pete. We need to talk.” Perez said as soon as Strahm walked in to their make-shift office that wasn’t so make-shift anymore.

“And a ‘good morning’ to you too.” He replied, dragging his hand across his face. He hadn’t realized just how tired he still was back at Hoffman’s house. He wishes he had listened to Hoffman about hurrying up so he had time to grab coffee before coming in. “What is it?”

“It’s about Detective Hoffman.”

“Yes?”

“I know you’ve been dating him, but we haven’t had time to talk about it. Every time I’m like ‘hey you want to go and get coffee’ you reply with something about him.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt.” She shrugged, “I’m happy you’ve found someone willing to deal with your anal tendencies.”

“I don’t have anal tendencies.”

“Peter.” She looked at him with the look of a mother ready to scold her child

“What?” He asked before more exasperatedly asking, “What?”

“For one, you fixate on something someone says and use that to try and circumvent the issue at hand.”

“I do not do…” He paused as he had a moment of self-awareness. He chose to keep his mouth shut after that.

“Uh huh.” Lindsey grinned, basking in her smug satisfaction of being proven ever so right. “But really, how is it?”

“How’s what?” He responded after logging into the work computer, “You mean the sex or…”

“Ew. No.” She gagged, “No I mean how’s the relationship going? He treat you well?”

Strahm started with a sigh, “Well he treats me like an ATM.”

“And you just let him? Talk about whipped.” She laughed mostly to herself, “Is Peter Strahm in there? Mister ‘I’m not buying a second ring for my second wife’?”

“That’s different.” He protested

“Uh huh.” She replied before Strahm shoved his head onto the desk. He didn’t want to look Perez in the eyes as he pulled his box of shame out from his pocket. “Oh my god, are you two that serious and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m that serious.”

“Then you don’t know how he feels? Peter, I love you, but this is just asking for divorce number three.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” He tucked the box back into his pants, hiding the growing red flush across his face.

“Just think about it a little bit. Okay?”

“Think about what?” Hoffman’s booming voice crackled behind the two FBI agents

“His coffee order. I’m running to Starbucks. You want anything?” Perez answered for her partner

“Flat white. Venti.” He replied. He closed the distance between himself and Strahm. He rested his hand along Strahm’s shoulder before saying, “You look dead tired. It’s a good thing Lindsey here cares about you.”

“Yeah, she’s got the patience of a saint for dealing with me.” Strahm grumbled, barely lifting his head up from his shame huddle.

“I do. What do you want, Pete?”

“Red eye’s fine.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. In the meantime, you can pour over those files I have on my desk.”

“Got it.” He replied, sliding his chair away from Hoffman and over to Lindsey’s work space. He stole a small stack and handed Hoffman a similar sized stack to sift through. She turned around and headed out to get their drinks. Hoffman flipped through a file before interrupting Strahm’s concentration.

“I do have a job, Agent.” Hoffman set the file folders down on Strahm’s desk, “I’m your liaison, sure, but I do have work for the police department to do as well.” His words were bitter, but his voice was cloyingly sweet.

“Then go do your job.” Strahm huffed, “Simple solution really.”

“I don’t want to. Not right now anyway.”

“Then don’t bitch to me about it.”

“Easy Agent.” His hand rested firmly on the center of Strahm’s chest before he started circling with his fingertips, “Wouldn’t want you popping a blood vessel in that pretty face of yours.”

“Did you come here to kiss me or just piss me off?” Strahm leaned against his desk

“If I said it was both?” Hoffman smirked

“I’d tell you to go fuck yourself. I have a job to do.” Strahm threw the words back at his partner. Despite the malice laced in the words, Mark knew that Peter was all bark and no bite. He leaned in and kissed Strahm’s cheek before turning away from him. Strahm pulled him back by his wrist for one quick proper kiss on the lips before letting Hoffman slink back to his bullpen. Strahm stared at the clock in the corner of the computer. Mark was eating at his mind. His touches, the way his mouth crinkled when he tried not to smile, the way he made looking like a woman attractive… he hated him with such passion it twisted itself into an intense, perverse love. There wasn’t anyone in the world that made Peter feel this way, he had the trail of divorce papers in his path to prove it. He knew that Mark Hoffman was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, it was just that simple to him. Lindsey came back with their drinks, dropping the red eye in front of Peter.

“How much work did you get done?”

“I flipped through a few files.” He replied, bringing the cup to his lips before taking a tentative sip. Thank god the coffee wasn’t scalding hot.

“Uh huh.” She looked the pile, “I guess three file folders over twenty minutes isn’t that bad. Let’s see if you actually retained any of that info though.” She reached over him and pulled up a document where they had been logging info for the case. She brought her arms back to her body and crossed them in front of her, waiting for Strahm to regurgitate anything. He sweated as he hit the keys for a quick ‘the’ before going back and deleting everything. ‘The victim’ and back. “You didn’t read anything.”

“No.” He sighed

“You were thinking about Hoffman?”

“Yeah.” He let out a pathetic croak

“You’re useless.” She smiled and took the folders back off Strahm’s desk and got into her own work for the day. At some point in the day, the special agent passed out. He woke up in the dead of night, Hoffman sitting across from him.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” Strahm grumbled. He sat up and the suit jacket that was draped over his shoulders slid. He quickly grabbed it to prevent it from falling on the floor, knowing that Mark’s taste in menswear far exceeded Strahm’s wallet. He tucked himself back up into the larger garment, sniffing the collar to feel closer to his partner. Hoffman got up from Lindsey’s chair and came to wrap his arms in front of Strahm’s neck.

“I don’t normally get to see you sleep. You looked so peaceful not barking out orders.”

“I don’t bark out orders.”

“No, you just like dressing them up like dolls and fucking with them in hotel rooms.”

“Are we still talking about orders?”

“Maybe.” Hoffman’s lips curled up at the ends

“What time is it?”

“About 7:30. I’ve already called in an order at our Chinese place, I’ll go inside if you drive me there.”

“Okay, okay.” Strahm wiped the tired from his eyes and got into his car. He didn’t realize how warm he felt when he heard Hoffman call it ‘their’ restaurant. They had… a pattern, something tangible. Hoffman slid into the passenger seat and reached his hand over, letting it rest on Strahm’s lap. “I haven’t said ‘I love you’ in almost twelve hours.”

“What makes you say that now?”

“Just… thinking about how I want to say I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mark leaned in and kissed Strahm’s cheek. Strahm took his foot off the brake and looked into Hoffman’s eyes. “Pete?”

“Let’s get married.”

“Peter, are you crazy?” Hoffman laughed. Strahm didn’t know if this would be the end of everything if he kept going but he needed to get his feelings out there. He pulled the box from his pocket and presented it to Mark. “You are crazy.”

“This isn’t how I planned it…” He started to apologize, only to be quieted by Mark’s lips pressed onto his. His hands hovered over Hoffman’s back for a second before his partner pulled away.

“Put it on.”

“Okay.” Strahm fumbled a bit, pulling the ring from its holder and slipped it onto Hoffman’s finger. It was a simple band, but it looked so right on his finger.

“What was your plan, hm?” Hoffman couldn’t peel his eyes away from the ring

“I was going to take you to a nice restaurant and propose there.”

“Who’s saying we can’t still do that?” Hoffman shared a glance with Strahm. “Just take my ring back before we get in the restaurant, we propose and get a free dessert or something.”

“Okay.” Strahm had to laugh, the idea was so stupid, but he was willing to indulge. The two of them sat in silence for a moment before Strahm put his foot back on the brake and drove to the restaurant. Hoffman slid back out of the car as they arrived, his hand brushing over Strahm’s while Strahm put the car into park. He didn’t need to touch the agent’s hand like that, but he wanted to. He looked at his partner before going in and getting their food. Strahm waited, covering his face with his hand. He’d done it. Truly gone off the deep end. He prayed that Mark wasn’t gushing to the cashier about the ring right now as they had a spirited back and forth he could see from the car. Mark Strahm. Peter Hoffman? Mark Strahm-Hoffman… that could work, if Hoffman liked it that is. Mark came back with a slightly stained brown bag and collapsed into Strahm’s car.

“It smells so good.” He opened the bag up and stuck his whole head in.

“Don’t breathe all over my egg foo young.” Strahm gagged, pulling his head back by the roots of his hair. Hoffman bit his lip as the agent accidentally ended up slamming his head into the car headrest with more force than he intended. “Don’t tell me you’re getting turned on right now?”

“I don’t know. Something about it is hotter when I can call you my fiance.”

“Fiance?” Peter repeated the word with a slight stutter. It felt so right coming from Hoffman’s lip and caressing his ear.

“Just get us home.” Hoffman’s hand laid on its favorite spot along the inside of Strahm’s thigh. Strahm sped out of the lot and drove them home. Hoffman carefully brought the bag of food in before tossing it onto the table in front of their couch. “Do I need to get a dress on, or can you fuck me like the man that I am?” Strahm hooked his hands under Hoffman’s ass and picked him up, shoving him into a wall.

“That answer your question?” Strahm’s teeth sunk into the skin of the detective’s neck. Hoffman wrapped his legs around Strahm’s back and rested his hands behind Strahm’s head. He thrusted his hips up into Strahm’s center, desperately looking for friction. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Let me feed you while we do this.”

“Fucking perv.”

“Shut up. You’re engaged to this perv.” Peter threw it back in Mark’s face. He carefully let go of Hoffman, making sure his feet were planted on the floor before letting go of his back. He sat down at the couch and patted the spot next to him, unrolling the folds of the paper bag. Normally Strahm would ask Hoffman if he felt like starting with the egg rolls or his sesame chicken, but he didn’t have the time. He pulled a roll from the paper wrapper and pressed it up against Mark’s lips for him to eat. Hoffman took a slow bite, only for Strahm to adjust his position on the couch, leaning over Hoffman just a bit more. With one hand pressed into the center of Hoffman’s chest, Strahm forced Hoffman to eat the next bite just a little bit faster, and faster until the roll was gone. He pulled his hands away from Hoffman to get the container of fried rice from the bag. He fumbles with the tabs keeping the container sealed for a moment before taking one of the spoons from the bag and shoving it into the mountain of rice before them. “Think you can eat this whole thing and your chicken?”

“What are you going to eat?” Hoffman acted coy. He took the spoon that hovered in the space between him and Strahm and brought it up to his mouth, wrapping his fingers around Strahm’s for a second while he swallowed. He let go to let Strahm feed him some more of the side. He polished the fried rice without even a sweat, and Strahm pulled the chicken from the bag. It was lukewarm at best, but neither of them cared. Hoffman was hungry, and Strahm wanted to see his partner’s stomach bulge as he scarfed down a meal for two. He finished the sesame chicken before his head could register that he was full, so he asked “What else can you fit in me?”

“Here.” Peter broke into his egg foo young and slathered gravy onto it before shoving it into Mark’s face. Mark licked the gravy off the edge of Strahm’s fingers as he ate the other man’s food happily. His stomach gurgled, alerting the two that he had reached capacity and Strahm’s fingers slowly sunk in to the taut skin. He slowly massaged as Hoffman’s head started slowly catching up.

“Fuck.” He let out a low grumble. Strahm continued to work on moving his fingers in soothing circles over the distended belly that hung over Hoffman’s pants and rested on top of his lap ever so slightly. Strahm’s mouth worked over Hoffman’s jawline like a dog chewing on a bone. Hoffman leaned back, pressing his stomach further into Strahm’s chest as he titled his head and brought Strahm’s lips back to his. Strahm pulled away to get a breath and pull at Hoffman’s belt. It fought against Mark’s bulk until it lay on the floor next to them. He quickly undid the button of his pant and ran his fingers over the red indent that button had made on the underside of Mark’s belly.

“You’re so fucking handsome.” Strahm growled against Mark’s cheek, “Fucking Christ…” Hoffman wrapped his arms around Peter’s back and worked his legs around Peter’s hips. Strahm unzipped his fly as quick as his shaky fingers would let him and pulled his dick out. He unhooked Mark for a second to grab lube from their bedroom and threw the bottle into Mark’s hand. Hoffman eagerly coated his hand in the substance before giving Strahm a couple of quick pumps. Strahm leaned over Hoffman and pressed his lips against the other man’s neck. Hoffman took his clean hand and ran it through the slicked back hair of Strahm’s. Strahm asked, “Ready?”

“Ready.” Hoffman kissed Strahm’s lips before Strahm thrusted into him. He made a grunt as he thrusted harder into his partner, not giving Hoffman any time to adjust if he needed to. Mark’s fingers trailed up along Strahm’s back and dug in slowly to just below Peter’s shoulder blades. He rolled his back ever so slightly, getting Hoffman’s hands into a more comfortable spot as his pace sped up. Strahm’s lips hovered over Hoffman’s for a second, waiting for the moan in the back of Mark’s throat to come out from his mouth before re-establishing a second form of contact between their bodies.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hoffman’s teeth tugged on the inside of Strahm’s lip as his eyelids flickered shut, getting that much closer to cumming onto Strahm’s chest.

“Fuck…” Strahm came into Hoffman, not stopping his motions until he was completely spent. He used a hand to help Hoffman finish. He made a grunt underneath Strahm as he released, his lips quivering as Strahm drew out his orgasm for as long as Mark could take.

“Fuck.” Hoffman carefully readjusted the two of them so he could sit up on the couch and cupped Strahm’s face between his hands.

“I love you.” Strahm said in a low voice

“Love you too.” Hoffman leaned in and kissed him, running his thumb over Strahm’s cheek. They held onto each other for a moment before Hoffman asked, “What do you want for dinner?”

“Do we even have anything here? I thought that was the point of getting take out.” Strahm’s nose buried into the crook of Hoffman’s neck.

“I can probably throw together eggs and toast or something.” His nose rested against Strahm’s head

“I could throw that together myself.” Strahm bickered

“Just shut up and let me make it for you.”

“Fine.” He unwrapped himself from Mark and let his fiance leave his side. He flipped the TV on and waited for his meal in silence. Hoffman came back about ten minutes later with a decent sized plate and handed it to Strahm. Strahm pulled the bulkier man back down to his side and ate his dinner in silence. He set the plate down on the coffee table and wrapped an arm around Hoffman’s back, resting his other hand on the other man’s stomach. Hoffman brought his hand with the engagement ring up to Strahm’s lips. Strahm took his hand, curling Hoffman’s fingers around his and pressing his lips just above where the ring sat.

“I love you.” Hoffman’s lips hovered over Strahm’s head as he said the words

“I love you too.” Strahm replied. Strahm let go of Mark’s hand and rested his hand on his partner’s stretched abdomen once more, rubbing gentle circles over it.

“When are we getting married?” Hoffman asked him

“When can we sneak off to Atlantic City?” Strahm laughed to himself

“I think I can get away for a weekend in the next month.” Hoffman answered. His fingers gently ruffled the front of Strahm’s hair before his thumb ran over the smoothed skin of Strahm’s face scar. Strahm’s heart pounded in his chest. “The question is do you want me to wear a dress or a tux?”

“Let’s go to bed.” Strahm got up and started walking towards their bedroom

“Mrs. Marka Strahm.” Hoffman said with a satisfied smirk, following his partner as Strahm’s face grew redder than Rudolph's nose.

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that-fannerd-with-the-glasses · 4 months

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They literally make me physically ill you guys don't understand

#i have not posted fic snippets in a HOT second #but gooooh #i started writing this thing impulsively like uhhh #five weeks ago #i'm three chapters deep #no i won't reveal the actual plot yet but #its coming together #saw #saw movies #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #mark hoffman #peter strahm #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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thefinalinagirl · 10 months

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So, thanks to Jigsaw (2017) we know that canonically there are people who are invested in Jigsaw and his philosophy, but I wonder whether there is like... a Jigsaw fandom? People drawing some art and writing fanfiction? Making theories on whether some known survivors can be apprentices?

Because every time I think about Eleanor Bonneville being so into Jigsaw, I can't help but smile at the idea of her being a dedicated fan. Like, imagine her actually writing Chainshipping fanfiction (because I guess it's a well-known fact at some point that Adam and Lawrence were in this bathroom together). Or Hoffdon fanfiction (because Hoffman's identity was revealed to public and there were probably speculations about Lawrence being an apprentice as well). Or Hoffstrahm fanfiction. Or another pairing because why not?

But wait, here's the best part. Imagine apprentices finding out about that when they're introduced to Eleanor via Logan (because in this house we believe in apprentice Eleanor supremacy). Imagine Lawrence in shock at the thought of being shipped with Hoffman. Imagine Hoffman and Strahm being like "that's not how it is!", but they're taking mental notes to actually try what Eleanor has written about in bed. Imagine Adam and Logan just enjoying the sheer chaos of this situation.

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the-one-percent-of-germs · 6 months

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I love ships where both people are tops so they’re just constantly fighting over who gets to fuck the other first

#perc talks #ao3 #fanfiction things #hoffstrahm #yes this is about them

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ash-eats-film · 3 months

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I’ve got like six hours left on a roadtrip, anybody got any good coffinshipping recs to kill some time and catch me up on some good reads?? I’m down for supernatural au, au’s in general, fanon stuff, toss me whatever. I wanna see my two favorite lack lust law enforcers kiss and makeout

#saw franchise #saw movies #fanfiction #saw au #fanfic rec #coffinshipping #coffinshipping fic #hoffstrahm #peter strahm #mark hoffman

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coffin-contemplator · 5 months

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❝one of furnaces & bed hogs❞

Summary:

“Strahm’s trembling. Not shaking or even shivering. Trembling.”

Strahm’s trembling. Not shaking or even shivering. Trembling. If the edge of the mattress wasn’t this far away, he would be worried about falling off, his muscles convulsing so much despite multiple layers covering his body. No doubt, a few more hours like this and he’ll be all sniffly and sneezing by the sunrise. Why does Hoffman’s flat have to be this cold all the damn time?

The asshole in question seems to be unaware of the other man’s turmoil. The only thing keeping him from tumbling down onto the hard floor is the wall that’s unfortunately supporting most of the detective’s weight. He’s fast asleep, not a care in the world about being pushed to the side of his own bed by Strahm, even though it’s big enough to fit both of them.

The longer the FBI agent stares at him, the more obvious it becomes that waking that guy up would be close to impossible. At the moment, he’s just about as still (and possibly as heavy) as a damn rock.

Strahm huffs, frustrated, desperately searching for a good reason to be annoyed with the latter. He hates being honest with himself in such situations but the conclusion is undeniable—he has absolutely no one to blame, except his own body. The man beside Strahm is on his way to the floor, with no bedding to cover himself, barely even using his pillow. Both the blanket and the comforter are secured tightly around the agent, as he struggles with the temperature.

It’s really not fuckin’ fair. And yes, it’s a childish thought but then again, the problem is not much more serious than that, either. At least, from the objective point of view.

His hands are so cold. Curling up in a ball, he squeezes them between his thighs. That doesn’t help—nothing helps. Another violent shiver runs through him and he hides his face in the pillow for a second. He can’t go on like this, there needs to be some solution.

Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down. Think.

Strahm peaks again at the other man. There’s an idea—a bad idea but an idea nevertheless.

He reaches for Hoffman, carefully but deliberately. His palm settles over the latter’s heart (and if anyone asked him about it, he’d claim the spot was accidental), as the agent scoops closer. Just as the distance between them shrinks to mere inches, Strahm freezes.

He waits, refraining from releasing the breath he’s holding. Surely, the sudden cold touch will make the detective stir, at the very least? That wouldn’t be the desired outcome, of course, but Strahm has to consider all the possibilities.

Hoffman doesn’t react. Not even a twitch. Silent and unmoving, his chest still rising and falling at regular intervals. The agent exhales, relieved. It’s not that he’s scared of his partner’s reaction—he just doesn’t like to be seen while vulnerable.

Focusing on the physical contact now, he allows the sensation to envelop him. Damn. Just damn. The man lying beside him is so, oh so warm.

Encouraged by a lack of acknowledgement from Hoffman, he allows his other hand to join in. Both of them travel down, halting around the latter’s waist. Strahm lets them rest on top of the love handles. He’d never admit, not even before himself, just how much he loves this part of his partner’s body. In a way, it’s comforting, being able to touch like this.

He begins to relax a little, not as tense as he was just a minute ago. Uncurling slowly from the protective ball he’s made of himself, he’s now brave enough to fully close the distance left between them. In all honesty, Strahm’s never thought he’d ever find solace while cuddling into Hoffman, seeking heat. And yet, here they are. He and that giant portable furnace of his.

Finally, the agent may allow his eyelids to fall closed, the haunting uncomfortable feeling no longer present. For once, it doesn’t take much more than that for him to fall asleep.

***

The sun is already way above the horizon once the detective’s eyes flicker open. Still in the sleepy haze, at first, his senses don’t catch anything unusual about this morning. It takes him a few more minutes to fully get back to consciousness and realise the strange sensation flowing over him.

He’s hot, and not in an attractive way. He’s actually sweating, despite the thermometer on the window nearby showing rather low temperatures outside.

The hard surface against his back will probably prove to be the outer wall which, although relatively normal (happens every time he, for some godforsaken reason, decides to share the bed with a certain FBI agent), makes the fact that Hoffman isn’t even slightly chilly significantly weirder.

And then, he looks down. And what he’s met with is a mess of dark dishevelled hair. He’s sandwiched between Strahm and the concrete.

The initial surprise quickly changes into amusement, his face lighting up in a teasing grin. If the other man was awake right now, Hoffman certainly wouldn’t spare him any remarks. But as long as that’s not the case, their predicament cannot be allowed to go to waste.

The detective reaches for his phone left on the window sill. Turns it on, takes a picture. The agent doesn’t even stir.

Hoffman takes a glance at the screen, making sure it saves. It did, good. Perez will appreciate it.

Note: Thank you so much for reading another one of my fics! 💚 If you enjoyed this one, please consider stopping by my AO3 profile! My works usually get published there a bit earlier!

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jennilah · 5 months

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With "Trust" chapter 2 uploaded, "A Series of Mistakes" IS COMPLETE!

to everyone- to people who were waiting for the last chapter to drop, and to the people who patiently waited for the entire series to be finished before starting, I hope you enjoy!!!

#hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #mark hoffman #peter strahm #saw #saw fanfic #saw franchise #sawposting #sawtism #fanfiction

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everybody-scream-fxck · 3 months

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FANFIC PREVIEW - I Am The Only Thing Inside Of You That You Cannot Control - Coffinshipping

I just really wanted to share a bit from a coffinshipping fic I'm working on right now. Yay for evidence room quickies. I don't have a specific timeline for this, it just kind of Exists.

It's vaguely NSFW but they're still wearing clothes. I need to get back to this fic. Under a cut for length dick mention. This is also mostly unedited.

Strong hands wrapped around both of Peter's wrists, working them around until he could pin them to the wall palms out. The press of their bodies was tight, so much so that Peter swore that they would never be separated again. Even for the clothes keeping them from skin-on-skin contact, Peter felt the warmth radiating off of Mark, setting his blood on fire. It twisted in his veins, leaving him breathless but no less an active participant in the bruising kiss.

A gnarled, depraved desire scratched at his stomach with an intensity that would have worried a smarter man. A man who wasn't so involved with someone he deeply believed he should have hated; once upon a time he did hate. But the simple fact of the matter was that there was nothing even remotely similar to hate in his heart for Mark.

Could he do wrong? Sure, maybe even of course. Did it put any kind of damper in the way that Peter's stomach filled with soft, delicate wings when he was nearby? Did the need to surpass him, to do better, to be better make him falter in his need for him? Did his sharp tongue and quick temper have any bearing over the hard-on he ground forward, desperately, into the other man's hip?

The answer to all of these questions and more was a big, flashing, resounding no.

#MY WRITING ➽➽➽#Sawposting #Saw Fanfic #Saw Fanfiction #Coffinshipping #Stroffman #Hoffstrahm #Saw Coffinshipping #Saw Hoffstrahm #Saw Stroffman #Fanfic Previews #Fanfic #Fanfiction #My Fic #My Fanfic #My Fanfiction #My Writing #(NSFLiving)

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nothoughtsjusthoffstrahm · 10 months

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Chapter 4 of "You Two So Alike" (my Hoffstrahm fic, if you're new here) is up!!! Here's the link 💞

Finally, after all of the laptop problems 😅😅 Hope you'll enjoy it!!!

#saw #coffinshipping #stroffman #saw fanfiction #hoffstrahm fanfiction #coffinshipping fanfiction #peter strahm #mark hoffman #hoffstrahm #hoffstrahm fic #coffinshipping fic #mark hoffman x peter strahm #hoffman x strahm #glass coffin trap #saw x

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yadeadbattery · 2 months

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Saw AU scene brainstorming goes kinda crazy

#!!!!!(boner)!!!!!#writing genius over here #saw fanfiction #saw fanfic #saw fic #saw #saw movies #hoffstrahm #eric matthews #allison kerry #mark hoffman #peter strahm #amanda young #⌨️

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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 1/2

Author's Note: Second chapter of this fic can be found here! Woo my first MLM saw fic, it's only fitting it'd be coffinshipping. Huge thanks to @cubestrahm for helping me stay motivated on this project, and come up with an ending for it <3

There was an eerie silence in the air. Hoffman was in the middle of his daily crossword puzzle, scratching his head at what possibly could be the answer for 5 down. Strahm took a glance at the desk across from him before clearing his throat. When Hoffman didn’t look up the first time, he cleared it again with more phlegm coming up.

“Do you need something, special agent?” Hoffman finally looked up from his crossword. To say he was mildly annoyed by the other middle aged man would be an understatement. Unless he had the answer to 23 across, Hoffman didn’t want to hear a damn word come from his mouth.

Strahm took a deep breath before he said, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Ask Perez.” Hoffman replied, turning his eyes back down to the paper in front of him

“Would if I could, believe me.” Strahm propped his head up against his fingers, “See… I need you to.”

“Yeah?” Hoffman raised an eyebrow, bringing his coffee cup up to his lips. He started to take a sip when Strahm said maybe the most outlandish thing that Mark had ever heard in his life,

“I need you to pretend to be my wife.”

Hoffman spit out his coffee, droplets making it onto Strahm’s crisp white shirt across the two desks.

“Agent Strahm, are you high?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell are you smoking,” Hoffman sputtered as he kept trying to string words together. Something to make a coherent sentence. “Are you insa… Actually, I’ve seen the footage of your interview with Jill Tuck. I know you’re insane. Why would I even entertain this idea, Special Agent?”

“You get better insurance?” Strahm shut his eyes, hoping that the offer of a better plan would be enough to entice the man before him. There was a pause in their banter. Peter couldn’t believe that Mark would actually even consider this.

“Does the plan include dental?”

“Wait you don’t get dental?”

“I do.” Hoffman scoffed, “But I have a ridiculous co-pay. What’s yours look like?”

“500.”

“… Fine. What do you need from me?”

“Just come with me to DC. We’ll talk to an HR person for an hour, get the paperwork sorted out, and we both get better insurance.”

“I can do that.”

“Alright.” Strahm said with a heavy sigh of relief. He was still quiet around Hoffman the next couple of minutes until Perez came back from lunch. Naturally, Strahm turned his back away from the other man to talk to his partner. Hoffman pulled a straw wrapper off the side of his desk he’d been meaning to throw out anyway, crumpled it up, and threw it at the back of Strahm’s head. When Strahm turned around to see whether something had actually hit him, Mark played coy. Almost too coy. Strahm raised an eyebrow at him, trying to goad him into a confession. Other, weaker, men would have folded under the gaze of the man with immaculate eyelashes, but Mark was stronger than that. Or so he thought at the very least. Mark leaned forward on his desk and rested his head on his fists, inviting some kind of challenge from the agent. As Strahm opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal, he thought long and hard whether a fight right now was worth it. He zipped his own lips back up and turned back around to talk with Perez.

‘Did she know?’ Mark wondered to himself, ‘About Strahm’s stupid little plan?’

Strahm massaged the wedding band on his finger, as if a sign to Hoffman that he heard his thoughts. That Lindsay was in on the whole scam too. She had to know… He shook his head and tried to clear the thought from his head. Maybe Hoffman was the one really getting scammed.

---

“Nice ride.” Hoffman slung his bag over his shoulder, looking at the car behind Strahm parked in Hoffman’s driveway.

“Shut up.”

“First road trip…”

“Don’t.” Strahm pointed at his partner in crime, “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“Aw, afraid you’re gonna like hearing the words ‘newlyweds’ come from my mouth?” Hoffman got up in Strahm’s face. Strahm’s lips were mere inches from brushing up against Hoffman. He felt the tickle of a sharp inhale from the detective’s nose and the heavy sigh when the air came back up along his upper lip. Peter turned his head away so he didn’t have to look into Mark’s eyes. He turned on the back of his heels and opened up the trunk for Mark to put his bag inside of. Mark plopped his bag down next to what he assumed was Strahm’s overnight bag before attempting to open the back passenger side door.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Strahm asked, sticking his head out of his window

“Sitting in the back, idiot. What does it look like I’m doing?” Mark wriggled the handle some more

“Why the hell would you sit back there?”

“So I can get some sleep.”

“And make me feel like a damn taxi driver; I don’t fucking think so. Sit up here.”

“Fine.” Hoffman rolled his eyes and got into the seat across from Strahm. He crams himself in before feeling up the seat to find the height adjuster. He pushed it as far back as it would go and crossed his legs before pressing his weight up against the car door.

“Here, grab the directions from the glove compartment.” Strahm said. He wrapped an arm around the headrest of Hoffman’s seat as he backed up from the driveway. Hoffman handed him the three sheets of paper folded into threes. Before handing it off however, he took a peek under the fold to see where the MapQuest directions lead to. Some two-star hotel on the DC-Maryland border. Not that Hoffman had any right to complain about the lodging, but he wondered if the accommodations were coming from the FBI or Strahm’s wallet.

“Take a left here. It’ll be faster and it’s easier to get on the turnpike.” Hoffman pointed up a couple of blocks ahead of them. Strahm gave him an apprehensive look before following the instructions the other man gave him. “Nice smooth merge instead of fighting.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Take it you don’t go home much? Or am I not good enough to bring home to mom?” Hoffman asked as he handed the papers off finally.

“What are you on about now?”

“Why aren’t you taking me to your place?”

“My place?” Strahm looked at him, more confused than ever

“In DC.”

With a sharp inhale Strahm asked, “Do you think every FBI agent is based out of Washington DC? Are you really that stupid, Detective?”

“Maybe I am.” Hoffman shrugged nonchalantly. Was Hoffman trying to scam him, even now? A blood vessel was popping on the edge of Strahm’s forehead and he could feel it. That seemed to make Hoffman’s lips curl at the ends ever so deviously. So it was all a fucking joke. “What’s the plan?”

“What?” Strahm’s attention returned in that moment.

“When we get to DC, smart ass.”

“Go to sleep. Get up in the morning, go to the office, and get this done. We’ll be home by tomorrow night.”

“How punctual.” Hoffman purred. “Did you bring something for me to wear?”

“No, why the hell would I do that?” Strahm asked.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you, this was your plan. I thought you asked me because you had something already.” Hoffman sat up in his seat, giving the other man a dumbfounded look

“I asked because you’re the only one not in the registry like Perez is. I mean why the hell wouldn’t you go out and buy a cheap dress or something after I told you about this?”

Hoffman just sighed before realizing the implication of this. “So guess that means you have to take me shopping.”

“What you want to go to the National Mall for that, dumb ass?”

“And if I do?” Hoffman smirked. He was clearly enjoying himself far too much. On the other hand, it took every bone in Strahm’s body to keep the two of them from careening off the highway and into the Atlantic ocean. Most of the car ride was in silence after that. Mark would occasionally peer out the window when they crossed a river, making it damn near impossible for him to get his planned nap in during the drive. Like that, they were pulling up into the parking lot of their hotel. Strahm left the car on while he checked in, and made a motion out to Hoffman when they were all set. Strahm walked back out to the car and sat in the driver’s seat before looking behind him.

“Where are we going?”

“To go shopping.” Strahm said with a sigh.

---

“Where to first?” Hoffman asked, stepping out of the car. Strahm hadn’t allowed for any stops on their way down south, so getting out to stretch was completely out of the question. Now that he was free, Hoffman lifted his arms over his head and let out a yawn. Strahm shot him a look before saying,

“It was only three hours, you don’t need to be so dramatic.”

“It was four.” Hoffman corrected him. Strahm just rolled his eyes and locked his car, walking away from the verbal conflict.

“Let’s go find you a dress first.” Strahm said in a hushed voice. Not that there was anyone else in the garage, but if there was he was worried someone would hear the two male voices.

“Does it have to be a dress? Or do you just want to emasculate me?” Hoffman growled slightly.

“There’s no way you’d fit in a woman’s suit.” Strahm stated, as if it was common knowledge. “And this is the FBI, you have to look halfway decent.”

“Your wish is my command, hubby.” Hoffman slapped on the most offensively fake smile as they walked into the mall. While neither of the men knew the layout of the mall, Strahm seemed to fall in behind Hoffman. This was unlike his usual behavior back in New York but Hoffman didn’t think it was worth getting into. They walk up to a directory and find a shop to pick a dress out from, first trying the anchor stores and getting nowhere with that. They tried a specialty store next, with more results. The only issue is the staff seemed to glare as the two men rummaged through the racks to find something that would fit a man like Hoffman. Hoffman noticed that Peter kept stealing looks as he would step out from the dressing room to look at the dress in the full length mirror. “Here, this should fit, but I need to to zip the back up.”

“Fine.” Strahm approached Hoffman and pulled the zipper up. It seemed to fall back as it was just about to close so Strahm told him, “Suck your gut in.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Hoffman rolled his eyes and sucked his stomach in. The zipper went up fine and Strahm secured it with the tiny hooks on the back. His hands slowly lingered onto Hoffman’s hips as they looked at the outfit in the mirror. “Not bad.”

“Yeah, you just look like a nice broad now.” Strahm replied quickly, before realizing where his hands were resting. He took a step back and Hoffman did a half spin to see what his back looked like in the dress, “I think it’ll work.”

“Yeah.” Strahm’s eyes wandered up at the ceiling. Hoffman reveled in this power and slid his hands down his hips with a whistle. Strahm turned his head back to look at the other man before darting his eyes away again. Like fucking putty in Mark’s hands. He walked back to his dressing room, came back out, and quickly threw the garment into Peter’s arms. Strahm shuffled to catch it before Hoffman walked past him and back into the store. Strahm veered towards the cashier before Hoffman pulled him by the back of his shirt and asked,

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To check out.”

“Not before I get some accessories.” He turned Strahm around and took a look at the gaudy earrings the store had on display

“You don’t even have piercings.” Strahm huffed quietly, “You’re not about to get them pierced for this.”

“And if I wanted to?”

“I’d tell you ‘you’re insane’ and pull you out of Claire’s. Dumbass.”

“Well at the very least, you can treat your wife to a nice necklace.”

“Fine.” Strahm sighed, feeling the grip Hoffman had on him growing tighter. “We can go to a jewelry store for that.”

“God you really know how to spoil a woman, it’s a wonder you’re not actually married.” Hoffman teased him, taking the dress from his hands and bringing it up to the counter himself. The cashier at the time didn’t seem to care that two men approached her with a feminine dress. She finished the transaction as quickly as she could, and went back to sulking while the two men headed back into the mall. Hoffman dragged Strahm back to a directory to plan their next course of action. It would be shoes, makeup, and jewelry in that order. There were more than a few instances where Hoffman didn’t need to be so close to the FBI agent, but would still press his body up against the other man. Like when a family tried to walk around the two of them. It would turn Strahm’s face an embarrassing red to have the fabric of Hoffman’s shirt slide across the leather of his jacket. In a low voice that he was certain only Strahm would hear he’d say, “My bad.”

“Just shut up and keep walking” or some variation were the only words Strahm was able to eek out. They managed to find some heels that weren’t ridiculously chunky, and Hoffman could balance on before going to a makeup store in the mall. They found a disgustingly light powder pink that the saleswoman said ‘any girl would love’, while Strahm stood out in the mall proper pretending that he was just shopping with a friend after work. She also threw in some samples that Hoffman didn’t really seem to understand, but was thankful he wasn’t buying any more makeup than was necessary. Not that it was on his dime, but he’d have no use for it after this elaborate fraud. Next, the two walked around a jewelry kiosk. Mark pointed at a diamond necklace and Strahm nearly cussed him out there in front of the sales clerk but just handed the Amex over before there was any questions. They walked back to the car before Strahm excused himself and headed to the bathroom.

“You really can’t wait for 20 minutes to get to the hotel?” Hoffman asked him, rolling his eyes

“It’s four o’clock, there’s no way in hell the ride is only going to be 20 minutes.” Strahm retorted before going in. Hoffman waited impatiently, stamping his foot down and glancing at the clock. How long did it take this idiot to piss? Out of the corner of his eye, Hoffman saw another store that he ducked into. If he was going to be Strahm’s wife, he was going to make the agent really regret it. He hurried back to the spot where Strahm was just zipping up his jacket. “Where were you?”

“Looking at Auntie Anne’s, the fuck does it matter to you?”

With a huff Strahm replied, “Whatever” before beginning the walk back to the car. This time Hoffman was sure to follow behind the agent. He seemed more… on edge than he had been this morning on Hoffman’s doorstep. Were the nerves setting in? Was his bravado really that fragile that shopping for women’s clothing was going to trip up Special Agent Peter Strahm?

“You seem tense.” Hoffman remarked

“I’m fine.” Strahm dodged the accusation, but not very well. There was almost an edge of bitterness in his words. He seemed to realize how rude he’d sounded by the way his eyes softened and said again, “I’m fine” in a much gentler tone.

“Nervous?”

“About?”

“Lying to your employer, the federal government?”

“No. No that’s the easy bit.”

“Easy, huh? Don’t tell me you’ve deceived the government before.”

“Yeah. Then when they caught me in my lie about 5 years later just told them it was a clerical error.”

“How rebellious of you. Never in my wildest dreams could I see you, Agent Strahm, bending the rules. Much less for your amusement.”

“And you’ve always filed your taxes on time.” Strahm laughed

“I’d never mess with my taxes.” Hoffman replied with a slight frown

“Sure thing, altar boy."

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