#mark hoffman fluff

[bosinclairsgff]

What the slashers smell like

Warnings: this is realistic lol

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Amanda Young, Mark Hoffman, RZ Michael Myers, The Grabber, Thomas Hewitt

A/n yes I realize this may be just a bit weird

- He smells like grease, sweat, and a cheap cologne. Of course there’s a hint of iron on him most days buts it’s just faint enough to miss. Bo definitely washes his hair with soap. He also reeks of cigarettes.

- This man is musky I’m sorry. He probably doesn’t shower a lot. His hair is very greasy, all the time. He usually smells like a moldy basement and sweat. With a waxy smell (duh).

- This man smells like blood, sweat, alcohol and a man who hasn’t showered in YEARS. He is stinky sorry girls. He also smells like piss.

- Baby takes better care of herself than Otis does. She smells like alcohol, blood and maybe I cheap perfume she stole from one of her many victims. Something floral.

- She takes regular showers so she’s not stinky. Amanda doesn’t care what shampoo she uses so she probably smells like coconut or vanilla, whatever she found at the store. I say she most likely doesn’t drown herself in perfumes. However there’s slight irony smell about her most days.

- This man smells like a expensive cologne he bought years ago and still hasn’t used it all. Also, he DEFINITELY uses three in one shampoo, conditioner and soap.

- He smells awful. Reeks of death and literal shit. Michael kills humans and animals, he’s stinky guys. He doesn’t know how to take care of his hygiene. His breath is AWFUL to.

- Albert loves being clean and well kept. He showers regularly, brushes his teeth regularly and wears a nice cologne. His cologne smells like old spice.

- Another stinky boy! He does not shower, ever. Maybe he’ll take a bath? I doubt it though. Thomas smells like blood, human shit and pure musk. You know how in cartoons when someone stinks there’s a green cloud? Yeah, that would be him.

[faultlessheart]

should i write a lil hoffman halloween blurb where his significant other wears a sexy costume and he gets all flustered 👀👀

[scarymaddy]

Mark Hoffman

Pairing: Mark/female

Content: Fluff

Warnings: No

The gloomy warehouse was lit by a dim light, the room you were in with Mark was cold with a green hue. You were going over the blueprints while Mark was busy perfecting the various traps.

You had been Jigsaw's most recent acquisition, after your test which you passed with flying colors, John saw potential in you, almost the same as Amanda's, after one last test, this time of loyalty, you officially joined his entourage of apprentices.

You sympathized with Amanda, however she was closed to any kind of vulnerability towards you. On the other hand, Mark Hoffman, the corrupt detective who in his spare time spends his free time setting up traps that he will then help decipher with other detectives, was the hardest to talk to.

He didn't talk unless it was necessary or he was in the mood to annoy you. Be that as it may, something magnetic, magical made you feel an attraction to him; a tall, strong, burly, lethal man.

- Are you going to make any changes to the plans, or is your brain not up to it," Hoffman mocked as he took the plans from you. He looked at them for a few moments, studying them carefully. - Certainly not bad..." he muttered, putting down the plans and looking at you.

His expressionless face looked at you, his eyes pierced your nerves, though you hated to admit it, Mark's presence was imposing and he always had a way of intimidating. Normally you always had something witty to say, but for the last few days your brain hasn't been helping, and you feared that it would be.

While Mark made short comments about improvements in the trap you were working on, your eyes wandered from his face to his hands, you looked at his suit, you never saw him with different clothes although he didn't complain, the suits always looked good on him.

-I'm going to trust you understood what I said- he said looking at you, you looked at him nodding and took the plans. - You've been very quiet lately... I'm not complaining, but I'm curious.

-Nothing to worry about, detective," you muttered with a grimace. You rose from your chair with the plans in hand ready to build the trap.

You didn't have much interaction after that, as things seemed to go downhill. After John and Amanda died, you and Mark were the only ones, you didn't know if that was a good thing or not. John's will had left a box to Jill, he gave them five envelopes, with the information of the new participants of the game. We went through it together, as bad as you felt, John and Amanda's death brought you closer together, although at first he tried to get you out of everything to do with Jigsaw, as a way of protecting you...In his own way, rough but with good intentions.

This was where it all started to go wrong, the police were hot on their heels. Mark had been put on trial, but managed to escape, Jill ran to take refuge with the police.

You were with Mark in the warehouse, the TV was on with the news.

-Fuck..." you muttered, looking at the wound on Mark's cheek.

-It doesn't look good.- he laughed reluctantly, his brow was still furrowed, this was the first time you didn't see him without his suit, he was casual, he looked good anyway.

You took a needle and thread, disinfected everything while you looked for a comfortable position to start sewing. Standing was not an option, if you knelt down you would be too far below his cheek, there was simply no comfortable position.

Mark snorted and rolled his eyes.

- Damn it, just sit down," he growled taking your waist and sitting you on one of his legs. You were about to protest but realized you were now at the perfect height to start sewing.

You moved a little to get comfortable and moved closer to his face. -I should tell you that I only took half a year at the medical academy.

-Anyway, it's better than bleeding to death," he murmured, his voice deeper because of the closeness, you tried not to think about it as you put your hands on his cheeks and started sewing.

Unconsciously, he kept his hand on your waist, tightening his grip as you inserted the needle. You mumbled several "I'm sorry" as you finished. You wiped away the blood and looked at your work, it wasn't the best, but it was decent.

You took his hand, it was also injured, probably with several injuries, or worse, broken bones. You were still sitting on his leg, you took a piece of gauze with hydrogen peroxide and cleaned the blood. You grimaced, not knowing quite what to do.

-Just bandage it up, then I'll have it checked," you nodded and took the bandages. You wrapped it carefully while Mark's gaze was fixed on your features.

Now, Mark was not a man for emotions, much less letting them show. Something about you made him feel warm, you were just as irritating as Amanda, but at the same time you were sweet.

He ignored the feelings, hid his appreciation with insults and looks of irritation, but having you like this, with you on his lap, one hand on your waist, made his mind fly. Feeling cared for like this was something he hadn't felt in a long time, not since his sister's death. He closed himself off to all possibility when she was gone, gave himself over to hatred and revenge.

-That's it..." you warned, leaving his hand gently on your knee. -What now?

-I'm going to find Jill," he didn't hesitate, the aggression in his voice almost palpable. You looked at him, trying to decipher it.

Mark looked back at you, his eyes lost in yours, against his will, he lowered his eyes to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips. He swallowed hard, you felt his hand come down to your hip with a slight pressure, heard his breathing subtly quicken.

-I want you to stay away...from this," he murmured, you came to and looked at him confused. -Stay home, forget about this...At least until I sort this out.

-Mark, I'm not going.

You tried to refute but Mark abruptly interrupted you.

-No arguments. You'll do as I say and that's it.

And again, Mark's superiority shut you up and you nodded biting your lip. He lowered his gaze and resisted.

- Good girl," he murmured, patting your hip.

Yes, the nickname and his action thrilled you, but you were still upset with him for pushing you away.

You did as he asked, you stayed home, it didn't last long. Jill had turned you in to the police, ratting you out as Mark's main accomplice. And since he was in hiding, it was easy for the police to find you.

Now you were in an interrogation room, however, you never said a word, but your ability to annoy everyone and your loose tongue got you several beatings.

Mark noticed your disappearance, and when you appeared on TV, he knew who had ratted you out. He didn't wait any longer, as good as he was at making plans on the spur of the moment. He was at the police station, lashing out left and right. Anger blinded his mind, he didn't care if they were innocent or not, anyone who got in the way was an easy target.

When he found Jill, he vented all his anger at her. Betraying him was one thing, but messing with you drove him crazy. It let him know that he shouldn't have messed with him, let alone you.

He had killed half the precinct just to get to you, when he found your cell he shot the lock, the noise startled you and you csminaste towards the cell door.

-Mark..." you whispered, he looked at you, your eye was black and the corner of your lip was hurt. He clenched his jaw feeling the anger come back to him. The bad thing about killing them all, he could only do it once.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the cell, he decided to ignore your blows, now you had to get out of there. As you walked through the police station, you passed a room, you thought you recognized Jill, you didn't know it, her whole face was disfigured, but from the trap she had on her head, and the blonde locks, you knew it was her. You opened your eyes in fright but didn't stop.

You and Mark went back to the warehouse, he burned all his cards. He turned to you and looked at you.

—Are you okay?-He was referring to your bruises, you touched your cheekbone and nodded.

-Yeah...not too bad...what are we going to do?

Mark looked at the bag next to him, it was full of money, it wasn't in his plans to take you with him but seeing you like this, he knew he wanted and had to protect you, you were probably the only good thing that would never happen to him again. He thought for several seconds, he wasn't insecure, but he didn't know if you wanted that too, or if you wanted him.

He looked at you, walked towards you, looked down to see you, his hand touched yours on your cheekbone and murmured.

-I want to take you with me," you opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out so you closed it thinking about what to say. -I can give you anything you want, I have money, we can go anywhere you want. Tell me what you want and I will do it.

-Is this some kind of statement or something?" you asked with a smirk. Mark looked at you seriously and then let out a little chuckle.

- Yeah, you could say that," you smiled at him, fiddling with your fingers nervously as your eyes wandered.

-"Well...If you're going to keep me then I accept." You joked, Mark smiled and took your hand, he brought it to his lips and left a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

-It is a promise.

[grxmreaperx]

So Good for Me

This has been a highly requested fic and I have been thinking about it so much, so here you go!! Mark taking the reader’s virginity and being an absolute bastard about it. This turned out more smutty than I thought it was going to be, but is also very fluffy and kind of goofy at the end. Hope y’all like it!!

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+!!! Very smutty!! I did not expect this to turn out as horny as it did but here we are! Virgin! Reader, Mark being a cocky bastard, oral and fingering (f! receiving), p in v penetration, dirty talk. Also pretty fluffy

Summary: After dating for a few months, your relationship with Mark begins to heat up. However, when you tell him that he’s your first, the bastard’s ego inflates even more. —

As soon as Mark walked through the door, you could tell it had been a long day. His jaw was set, shoulders tense. You made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his lips.

And now you were here, sprawled under him in your bed, his lips making their way down your neck.

You and Mark had been together for a few months. Your relationship started slow: he was hesitant to allow anyone to get close to him, and you were very selective, looking for the person you want to spend your life with. And you think you’ve finally found him.

Once you got his walls to come down ever so slightly, and he showed you he was serious about this, about you, you were both head over heels.

You were always honest with Mark, both because you trusted him and, frankly, because he was a detective. How would you be able to keep anything from him, even if you wanted to? But there was one thing you had kept from him, unsure how and when and where to bring it up.

“Mark,” you said softly, trying to get his attention as his teeth caught your earlobe.

He pulled away just enough to look at you. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the look on your face. “What’s the matter, baby?”

You bit your lip, eyes looking anywhere but at him. “There’s – there’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

His eyes scanned your face, trying to decipher how you were feeling. You stayed silent, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly under his gaze. He watched the ways your eyes darted around, not meeting his. He watched the blush spread across your face, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. And he smiled.

“Are you a virgin, baby?” he asked, deep voice purring in your ears.

You lightly slapped his wide shoulder before burying your face in your hands. “Get that shit-eating look off your face.”

He had had a suspicion, he always noted how, whenever things got a little more heated, you suddenly stopped in your tracks, saying you would rather just cuddle for now, or you were tired. He didn’t mind, he was willing to wait, but he had always wondered why.

Now that he had his answer, he couldn’t stop the overwhelming feeling of pride from pooling in his chest.

He gently grabbed your wrists in one of his hands, pulling your hands from your face. The other reached up, cupping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Would you like me to change that?”

You felt your face get even hotter, blush spreading to your ears, as you nodded. You had wanted it for a while now, you wanted Mark to be your first. You trusted him, you cared for him, and you wanted to spend your life with him. And he made sure you knew he felt the same.

He leaned down, lips meeting yours in a passionate embrace. He rested a hand around your throat, not constricting, but guiding. He pulled his mouth from yours, continuing where he had left off before as his lips returned to your neck, gliding down to your collarbone.

You felt his hands taking in your body, running down your sides, your hips, your legs.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he started, hands coming to rest on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. “Has anyone ever tasted your sweet pussy before?”

You inhaled sharply, feeling his words go straight between your legs. “Once, but not for very long.”

“Did he make you cum?”

You shook your head. His eyes grew hungry.

“How about you strip down for me, and I’ll show you how it’s supposed to be done, baby?”

You quickly got to work, pulling your shirt over your head as Mark helped with your pants. You instinctively reached up, covering your chest with your arms. You had never been fully naked in front of someone before, suddenly very aware of his eyes taking in every inch of you.

He slowly removed his dress shirt, undoing each button agonizingly slow as he took in your reaction. He was trying to restrain himself, trying not to move too fast with you. He could tell you were nervous, unsure of yourself. He wanted to have you right them, feel every inch of your body as he made you come undone on his cock.

He settled himself between your legs, draping one over each of his bare shoulders. His lips made their way slowly up the inside of your thighs as his fingers hooked on each side of your underwear. His eyes met yours, looking for one last confirmation that you wanted this, wanted him.

You nodded. “Please…” you said softly.

His resolve almost broke right then. God, he wanted to ruin you.

He slowly pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side, eyes taking in the sight of you completely bare for him.

He started slowly, placing soft kisses along your folds, making his up to your clit.

“God is this all for me, baby?” he asked, a smug look on his face, before wrapping his lips around your clit and running a finger through your wetness.

You started to say something, anything, to wipe that cocky look off his handsome face, but your words quickly turned to moans as he got to work. He slowly pushed one finger into you, drawing circles over your clit with his tongue. It took a moment to get used to the feeling of something inside of you, but the sensation of his finger pumping into you soon turned euphoric. Once you had gotten used to the first, he added a second, curling his fingers inside you.

“You think you can take one more for me, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away from you for just a moment. “Gotta get this pretty pussy ready for my dick, hmm?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathed, completely lost in the feeling of his fingers working you. He slides a third finger in, drawing a loud moan from your mouth. His tongue quickly gets back to your clit, your hips bucking up to meet him before he wraps his free arm around your hips, holding you in place.

You felt tension quickly building in your stomach, more intense than you had ever felt with just your own fingers. You moaned his name as you came undone around his fingers, riding out your orgasm as his movements slowed.

He pulled away from you, crawling on top of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

“You see how fuckin’ good you taste, baby?” he groaned, smirking at the look of pleasure on your face.

Your vision was hazy, still coming down from the most intense orgasm that you had ever had. You heard him undoing his belt, the sound of rustling fabric filling your ears. His face entered your vision again, looking down at you as you felt the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he asked, reaching up and gently cupping your face in his hand. You gave him a nod and he slowly pushed into you. You sucked in a breath, trying to get used to his size, the feeling of being stretched out. He bottomed out, giving you a moment to get used to the feeling before setting a slow pace.

He let out a low groan, steeling his resolve to keep himself from fucking you into the mattress. “Fuck baby, feels so good. You’re doing so good for me.”

The pain slowly subsided, his hand reaching down between your bodies to rub circles around your clit. The glint of pride returned to his eyes as he saw your face scrunch up, no longer from pain but from pleasure.

“Faster.”

He let himself go, just a bit, and picked up his pace. He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he felt your legs begin to tremble. God, he was in heaven. He had been with other women before, but none had compared to this. He loved watching your face change as you got used to being full of his dick, loved hearing the noises he drew from your throat, and how tight you felt around him.

He was the only man to ever see you like this, completely cock-drunk underneath him. And he was going to make damn sure he was the only man to see you like this for the rest of your lives.

“You gonna cum all over my dick, sweetheart? Cmon baby, show me how much you love taking my cock.” He leaned down until his lips were against your ear, encouraging you until he felt your legs trembling, cunt tightening around him as you came undone. He felt your nails dig into his shoulders and it pushed him over the edge, filling you up as he reached his own high.

You both stayed like that for a moment, him still buried inside you as you two tried to catch your breath. He slowly pulled out of you before grabbing tissues to clean you both up.

He threw himself down in bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him, planting kisses along your forehead. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, still completely lost in your own euphoria. He chuckled, that feeling of pride swelling in his chest again. You looked up, laughing at the smug look on his face.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You, you’re so fuckin’ proud of yourself.”

“I have no idea what your talking about,” he said, smile growing wider.

“You’re such a bastard, wipe that look off your face.”

“Well, I’m the bastard that just took your virginity.”

“Shut the fuck up before I kick you out of bed.”

He laughed with you, rubbing your back soothingly and placing kisses in your hair. He was going to make sure no one else ever had the chance to see you like this.

[wings0fruin]

"I ask you, Special Agent Strahm: Have you learned enough to trust me?"

Hi Sawblr :3 again teehee

I'm finally done with my second Saw painting - and the background is kinda lazy , but WHATEVER ....... took me long enough

[corn-fanfiction]

Mark Hoffman fluff?

Ask and ye shall receive, dear Anon.

Rating: M

Tags: language, drugs n alcohol, Eric Matthews being himself, fluff (I tried anyway), some descriptions of facial wounds

Not an Asshole (Mark Hoffman x GN!Reader)

-·=»◆‡«=·-♡·=»◆‡«=·-

"Ah!"

You suck air through your teeth and cradle an ice pack against one side of your head while thick yet curiously nimble fingers work at the laceration on the other side. Mark has removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Things would be different if your vision wasn't still skewed from the tussle. For one, you'd be fixing your wound yourself. Also... you'd be able to better glimpse at Mark's face while he focuses on his work. His brow furrows differently than normal when he focuses, like the usual scowl is a front and this is him in his element.

"Am I gonna have to report this?" he grumbles, setting aside a bloodied alcohol wipe and readying a suture.

"I'm probably the last person you wanna ask."

"Why?"

He's mumbling, clearly looking to fill the silent space. You indulge him.

"Because you know what I'm gonna say."

"That I shouldn't report it?"

"Yep."

"You broke a pretty strict code of conduct," he murmurs so quietly it almost registers as a hum.

You had, in fact, broken quite a few codes of conduct, and in public no less. There's a reason you're in your apartment and not the hospital.

"He had it coming."

Mark 'tsked'. "Still."

You smirk. He agrees with you.

"Get that smile off your face. He's gonna run straight to the chief and tell. I give you a day, if that. Hold still; this is gonna hurt."

You clench your teeth and grip your whiskey glass so hard you're afraid it might shatter in your hand, and then Mark will have even more to clean up. He begins your sitches and you take a shaky sip.

"Still," he scolds you like you're a disobedient animal. You roll your eyes.

"Just take me out back and shoot me."

"You're so dramatic. They're stitches."

"Yeah, and they fucking hurt."

"Well, you fucking earned em, didn't you, Ace?"

Ace. Your nickname, or rather, his nickname for you. Because no one else called you Ace. It started out mean, critical. You were, after all, a rookie, and he your mentor. He was allowed to say basically whatever he wanted to you, and in the beginning, he did. He said things that had you crying in your car as soon as you were out of sight. Any stress, he took out on you. Even the shit that probably wasn't even related to work- it ended up on your shoulders.

It was like that for a while. Then, something changed.

To put it simply, you had saved his life. He was caught unawares, him, and you managed to talk the perpetrator down. More than that, you'd been stupid, deliberately putting yourself in harm's way just to save Hoffman from a beating or maybe a bullet.

So you're Ace. Hotshot, hotheaded. Everything Mark was before you entered the picture. Now, he finds himself taking on some kind of new role to balance you out, though he's not exactly sure what it is or how much he likes it.

"Not my proudest moment, admittedly," you say with a pained groan as Mark pulls the sitches through.

"I'd really hope a bar fight with Eric Matthews was not your proudest moment, no."

"It wasn't a bar fight."

"Ace-"

"It was outside the bar and he threw the first punch."

"He missed."

"Yeah, the first swing."

"I don't feel like arguing about this- hold still unless you wanna lose an eye."

Begrudgingly, you seal your mouth as he manages the last stitch. He pulls a particularly sensitive piece of skin, or maybe sends the needle a little too deep because you hiss and shoot a hand out to clutch his leg.

"Sorry," he mutters. You can't see him, but you feel his eyes hot on your hand and you pull it away, trying and failing to mumble an apology of your own. Even though he's literally sewing your skin closed, the hand to thigh contact is somehow the most intimate thing that's ever happened.

And you have to admit: you maybe had the occasional fantasy about Mark. It couldn't be helped. He's a man in a position of power and you have enough childhood whatever that it has a certain draw. But in any of those fantasies, it's you playing doctor to him. He's the more notorious hothead, after all.

"You're probably mad I'm stealing your title," you half joke. He snips the suture and dabs at it lightly with a fresh alcohol wipe.

"Oh yeah? You think you're gonna make head detective?"

The first part of your response is a gut reaction. "God no. I meant as the biggest asshole in the precinct."

His hands slow, and for a moment, though you're still coming down from your near blackout-level of drunkenness, you're scared you offended him.

"You're not an asshole, Ace. Well, maybe sometimes. But your heart's in the right place."

You're never one for serious or genuine conversations. You always want to leave a conversation with a joke or snarky remark. But here, now...

"And yours isn't?"

After a moment, he sighs and turns himself away. You're sitting on your kitchen counter and he's on a barstool. Even with these levels, he's as tall as you. You kick your legs as he stands.

"This isn't about me."

You hop down from the counter. "I think it is about you as much as it is about me."

He shoots you a grim look. "How do you figure that?"

"Come on. Matthews is pissed that you're good at your job, and by extension, I'm occasionally good at my job."

"That's vanity," he quips.

"But am I wrong?"

He struggles for a moment, caught between lying versus telling you that you're right. He says neither.

"Not the point."

He removes his gloves and tosses them in the trash, along with the wipes and leftover sutures. There's a moment of silence, of him watching you as you retrieve the whiskey and refilling your glass.

"Want one?" You ask.

"Sure."

You get another glass and pour. Like it's a strange instinct, you touch glasses before drinking.

"To being the two biggest assholes in the precinct," he says. You half expect the phrase to be some sort of sad, but he says it with a small smile, as if to say 'yes, we are, and that's just the way it'll have to be.'

You don't mind the idea.

You down your whiskey and pour another glass.

"Slow down there, Ace. How many painkillers have you taken?"

Honestly? You don't remember.

"...some. I'm fine."

To prove just how fine you are, you push yourself from the counter and immediately stumble.

"Alright," Mark sighs and sets his glass on the counter. "Where you trying to go?"

"Couch," you point. It would seem that yes, most of the substances you've ingested in the past two hours are combining at once.

Mark comes and hovers a guiding hand at your lower back to move you to the couch. You make it, plopping down and grabbing the remote.

"Whaddya wanna watch?" You ask, not quite slurring your words but definitely not enunciating them.

"I really oughta get home, let you rest."

"Noooo!" You groan. "At least not right now. What if I have a concussion? I can't sleep, right?"

Panic starts to creep in. You have been a little irresponsible tonight.

"And the drinking, and the meds- holy shit..."

You get woozy, start to fall on your bad side and Mark catches you and sits you up.

"Okay, where's the bathroom?"

You wave your hand to the hallways behind you and he leaves. Distantly, through your haze you hear Judge Judy on the tv. Mark returns with a cold wash cloth and the small trashcan from the bathroom.

"Here," he hands you the cloth and you set it on the back of your neck. Mark sets the bin by your feet. He straightens up and gets a good look at the state of you.

"Well, now I'm worried about you passing out."

And now you feel guilty about keeping him here.

"You're fine," you mumble. "Don't wanna keep you here."

Mark sighs, looks around the room, then looses his collar, undoes the first two buttons of his shirt.

"Scoot," he instructs, and you move yourself to one side of the couch. Mark kicks off his shoes and sits beside you.

"I'm staying until we're certain you won't overdose in the middle of the night. Deal?"

You would verbally respond but you're getting sleepy. You nod.

"Hey, wake up. Can't sleep yet."

"Whynot."

"Concussion."

You turn so your body is facing inwards, towards Mark. You toss the remote onto his lap.

"Pick something."

"This is fine."

"No, you hate reality TV."

"How do you know?"

"You told me once," you mumble with your eyes closed. You roll your head back and forth to keep awake.

"Oh," he says. "Well, I don't mind this one."

You crack an eye open. "You like Judy?"

He doesn't respond, just purses his lips.

You're not in your right mind. That's what you tell yourself every day since this night because it's the most dignified way you can justify your next move.

You've pulled your socked feet up on the couch and start nudging Mark's leg with your toes. His head swivels towards you.

"What?"

You clear your throat and squeeze your eyes shut to let a stab of pain pass.

"Lap."

When he realizes what you want, Mark sighs and moves his arm so you can swing your feet onto his thigh, snuggling even closer. He tenses, but doesn't move.

"You're not an asshole," you mumble. Your forehead gets closer to his shoulder.

"Yeah, I am."

"Not to me."

"I used to be."

"I know," you yawn. "I forgive you."

As you fall asleep, you think you might hear an apology slip through his lips.

-

When you wake up the next morning, Mark's gone. But you wake up on your side, covered in a blanket, the trash can placed strategically by your head. On your coffee table is a glass of water and two painkillers. And next to them is a sticky note.

Ace,

eat first. Don't take on an empty stomach.

-Mark

You smile and chug the water, then take the pills anyway. Your stitches ache, and your brain pulses against your skull, but you grip the note tightly in your hand, content to slip it into a drawer somewhere and 'forget' to throw it away.

Yep. Maybe an asshole. But not last night. Not today.

-·=»◆‡«=·-♡·=»◆‡«=·-

Sorry if it's OOC but Mark's not a super fluffy guy. This seemed like a natural-ish way to play it. Thanks for the req, anon!!

[barkhoffman]

I'm gonna finish this properly sometime but I needed to share my sketch first

hoffstrahm at the PD Christmas party where everyone is alive and nobody is Jigsaw :) Hoffy had a little too much to drink but it's okay because Strahm is there to get him home safe

[staarboyyy]

┏━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┓

-ˋˏ [ bowie | 19 | any pronouns ] ˎˊ-

┗━━━━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━━━━┛

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┆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ⏳ ₒ ‍ ‍

┆ ┆ ┆ *:･ﾟ ↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ ✦ ⌇ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ↴

┆ ┆ *ೃ bowies tumblr!

┆ ‍ ‍ ‍ *₊°。

¨🎞

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧 ; all characters are 18+, written by adult(s), for adults, in adult scenarios. These scenarios can range from explicit, to gorey depending on the given tags. minors do not interact!

★📎 {} .. if requests are open, please be patient with completed drabbles! i am only one person with two weak malnourished thumbs, have mercy :(

☆💬。・i write for characters that have been considered "controversial" in the past, such as homelander, soldier boy, amanda young, etc. if those characters/sources bother you, please feel free to block me and my tags !

☆・．❕「tags」

-ˋˏ #bowies fics [all fics]

-ˋˏ #bowies requests [requested fics]

-ˋˏ #bowies comfort tag [reposts of fanart of sources i love]

-ˋˏ #bowies silly tag [funny reposts]

-ˋˏ #pretty colors!!!@ [reposts of fanart of sources i love]

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

request status ; closed !

✩°｡⋆saw franchise x reader - all gender neutral

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: amanda young x reader

drowning ; unhealthy dynamics, descriptions of violence, s/h mentions slight stockholm syndrome, menetions of kidnapping, fluff, no smut - strangely soft moments and recalling memories of being taken in by amanda and john [ romance ]

quiet morning ; fluff, sleeping with socks, sleepy morning, buffmanda, pervymanda, straddling, teasing - amanda insists you both sleep in. [ suggestive ]

choice ; stroke mentions/slight descriptions, surgery mentions, panic attacks, grounding, hand holding, fluff, "i hate everyone but you" trope - after john has a stroke, you find yourself slightly split between two sides of the same coin. [ angst / romance ]

territory ; apprentice!reader, jealousy, amanda being a guard dog, anatomical terms for vagina, degradation, dubcon if u squint, biting, sadistmanda - amanda catches you and mark going over your lastet work. [ smut ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: mark hoffman x reader

worthy test ; dead dove, detective!reader, kidnapping, smut, gender neutral anatomy, gags, rough sex, slapping, needles, drugging, unhealthy dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, size difference kink, age difference, creampie, big ol man tiddies YEEHAWW!! - you and your team of investigators have been after jigsaw's apprentice for months, yet waking up bound to a chair makes way for suprises more sinister than you could have imagined [ smut ]

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✩°｡⋆the boys x reader - all gender neutral

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: homelander x reader

compliance ; sublander, bloodplay, knifeplay, handcuffs, dom/sub dynamic, consent, communication, prior planning, oral sex - getting homelander in a vulnerable position where you put him in cuffs he's not allowed to break. [ smut ]

supernova ; depowered!homelander, homelander reffered to as john, angst with a fluffy ending, domestic sweetness, anxiety attack, eating difficulties - john feels lost after losing his powers despite settling into a "normal" life with you. [ angst / romance ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: soldier boy x reader

negotiations ; dubcon, forced orgasms, slight daddy kink, glove kink if you squint, size kink, southern charm, drug use, wall sex, no pronouns used for reader but afab anatomy is repeatedly mentioned - upon joining The Boys to take down Homelander with the help of Soldier Boy, you come to realize he's much more of a hard bargain than you anticipated. [ smut / slight romance ]

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .: frenchie x reader

people will talk ; weed smoking, alcohol references, fluff, intoxication, cozy fic, - late night meetings between you, frenchie and a joint [ fluff ]

✩°｡⋆ Unexpected

; ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ thomas shelby x reader fic [ smut - specified anatomy ]

summary ; the shelby's and your family have worked together for quite some time. when your mother made a bold move against the lead shelby brother, you took to going to apologize personally.

tags / warnings ; intoxication, spanking, grinding, pleasure denial, thomas shelby being a bitch, smoking, masturbation, facial, cumplay if u squint, explicit consent, power imbalance

i. evening ,, ii. morning

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⊹ꮺ˚ masterlist will be updated bi-weekly!

⊹ꮺ˚ for a more accurate list, check #bowies fics ! <3

[hrtsforhoffman]

stop making every mark hoffman fanfic about SEX!! let him be SILLY!!!

[gurokatt]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Saw

Pairing: Mark Hoffman / Peter Strahm

Word Count: 6,259

Summary:

With Mark and Peter are on the run, they cannot be a normal couple, that's not on the table for them. Mark can fantasize anyway

[veeva-i0i]

My Mark and Peter fic is probably gonna be more fluffy than is called for (since you know, horror movie couple), but I can't help myself. I low-key live for the fluff.

Anyways, Mark looking through picture albums on the anniversary of his sister's death and being vulnerable while Peter walks in on it all is canon.

[bosinclairsgff]

Pet names the slashers use

Warnings: none

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Amanda Young, The Grabber, Corey Cunningham, Brahms Heelshire, Mark Hoffman, Dollface

A/n I was running out of pet names I knew at the end sorry

- Bo will call you darlin, baby, babe or pretty girl. I could also calling you his little lamb. When he’s mad though, he’ll call you bitch or whore.

- Oh my gosh, Baby will call you just about anything. She mostly, however calls you sweetheart, sugar, honey, darling, pudding, cutie or love bug.

- Otis will address you as bitch anytime of the day. Even if he’s not mad at you, he could be HAPPY with you and be like “come hear bitch” and wouldn’t think twice. He will also call you mama, babygirl, bunny and missy.

- Amanda would call you something basic like baby, babe, MAYBE baby girl I’m not sure about that one though. She’s always calling you a pretty girl. I’m sure she’d occasionally throw in sweetie or sweetheart.

- Albert would of course call you dove, my love, sweetheart, honey, doll, baby. He’d only use degrading names when he’s angry.

- This man is a SIMP. Corey would call you baby, babe, my love, darling, baby girl, pretty girl and cutie!

- Mommy. He’d call you mommy, maybe mama. He’s a lil freak I fear.

- Mark isn’t a crazy romantic, he’d call you things like darling, babe, hot stuff and some other oddly specific name he comes up with.

- Dollface would call you sweet and cute names! Such as, baby, pumpkin, darling, kitty, bunny, love, sweetie, baby cakes and pretty girl.

[wolverton]

LET'S GO TO THE GARDEN. LET'S BE KIDS AGAIN. I'LL CHASE YOU IF YOU CHASE ME.

BLOOD, GUTS, AND ANGEL CAKE

by wolverton

T | Amanda Young & Mark Hoffman | Oneshot | 2.5k

SUMMARY

Mark Hoffman could be a good big brother when he put his mind to it. Luckily for Amanda Young, he was putting his mind to it—complete with a total resurrection of his long-forgotten baking abilities.

(NOTABLE) TAGS:

Fluff, Birthday, Sibling Bonding, Brother-Sister Relationships, Not Canon Compliant, Fluff and Crack, Found Family

(see ao3 for more!)

[defectivehoffman]

Did someone say "self indulgent Hoffdonheight migraine fic"? No?

Well... tough tibbies.

[grxmreaperx]

TEDDY BEAR HOFFMAN OH MY GOD on lazy Sunday morning’s he just buries himself into your side. His hair is all mused and he has his whole body wrapped around you. He’s needy, he’s sleepy, I want to scream into my pillow at the thought.

AHHH this is so adorable!! teddy bear hoffman has my whole heart!!

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x (gn!) reader

Word count: 550

Warnings: none, this is super fluffy

Summary: A sleepy morning with your boyfriend <3

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking at the morning light peeking in through the blinds. You groaned softly, stretching your limbs. You made to slide out of bed, ready to make your morning coffee, when you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back.

“Where you going?” Mark’s sleepy voice asked.

You chuckled slightly. “Well, I was going to make us some coffee.”

He pulled you closer, your back against his chest. “Not yet.”

It was one of Mark’s few days off, one of the only days he had nothing to do. Except focus on you.

He buried his face in your neck, letting out a small sigh. You gently pulled away, just enough to turn over to face your boyfriend.

His neat hair was tousled, small pieces sticking up. His eyes, still filled with sleep, stared into your own. His arm found it’s way back to your waist, gently rubbing circles on your hip.

“Stay in bed,” he groaned, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You and Mark had been together a couple of years now, and it had taken a while to get him to show this part of himself. When he first began spending the night with you, he would hold you when you asked him to, but he had preferred to stay on his side of the bed, holding you until you fell asleep before moving to his own space.

After your first year together, he became more open, more touchy. He would pull you to him, wrapping an arm around your waist when you were in public, always looking forward to lying down with you at the end of the day.

Once you moved in together, he became the biggest teddy bear you had ever met.

He always had to be touching you, even in small ways. A hand on the small of your back, holding his arm out for you to cling to. But once you were both home for the night, lying together in bed, he had to be pressed up against you. He loved pulling you close, setting your head on his chest, or wrapping his arms around you while you spooned. He loved the feeling of your chest rising and falling as he held you, knowing that you were safe and taken care of.

He placed soft kisses along your collarbone, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Just lay here a little longer.” His arms tightened around you, running his hands across your back.

Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his rustled hair. He let out a soft sigh. You ran a hand across his shoulders, gently rubbing to ease the tension he held there.

“I’m staying like this all day,” he muttered.

You laughed. “All day?”

He nodded. “I’m not moving.”

“Are you going to let me move?”

He shook his head.

You let out a contented sigh. “Love you, dumbass.”

He placed a kiss on your shoulder. “Love you too, bitch.”

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

(if y'all want a smutty version, let me know👀)

[blueberrypancakesworld]

She is not your's - Hoffman/Strahm x fem!reader

warning : smutish, some gun play, use of handcuffs, teasing, kissing, hurt/comfort, fluff, some angst

Summary : She belonged to Mark Hoffman, he had taken her love first. But his games as Jigsaw's successor kept them apart. So it's only right that Peter Strahm shows her what's really right. Or is it real in the end or just a game for her?

Info : Back at it again with another One-Shot and what can I say these two sweetys are just ahhhh so godd to write. Have fun reading ;)

masterlist

costas mandylor - masterlist

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

Mark Hoffman and Peter Strahm two investigators on the same case to find and kill the Jigsaw successor to bring an end to the game.

A task that proved more difficult by the second, by the day and by the week. They had both already lost good colleagues and longtime friends to the deadly traps.

They both wanted all the more to pursue their target, which Agent Strahm knew was closer than he would have liked. Hoffman knew that his colleague and enemy would eventually find out.

But this rivalry between them had one thing in common between the taunts and suspicions. In addition to the affection, there was a woman, a young detective, who had stolen their hearts.

First employed as a young policewoman under Hoffman as his team, she was the only one to survive alongside Hoffman. Whenever she was sent to a place by her department leader, she was never hurt. Nothing had happened to her, not even a scratch.

But after he no longer had a department and she was the only one left, the two seemed to become partners. Her initial naivety turned into mistrust and fear. Emotions he wanted to see in her - he knew that her heart beat for him.

Ever since he had seen his beloved walk into the department as a beginner, he knew they were meant to be together. As the new Jigsaw, he decided on lives, so he should also decide on her life.

He knew how scared she was of the traps, everyone was scared of the traps. ,,I won't let him hurt you...I promise sugar" he had told her after he had found her dissolved in her office. She usually smiled at the nickname and had even blushed when he had approached her. But now it was different.

He saw how she had looked at the photos of her colleagues and missed them. But those sweet gentle touches were cold because she couldn't know how much he lusted after her. That when she tried to suppress her tears, she only felt more helpless and embarrassed.

But he saw that all he had to do was control her a little more, that he finally wanted her for himself. It would be his reward. ,,They-are all-" she didn't finish the sentence and hid her face in her hands. She didn't want to face reality and yet the only thing she had left was Hoffman.

But he achieved what he wanted when he leaned down and gently removed her hands from her face and their eyes met. ,,Shhh I told you I'm always with you and I always will be," he said calmly and his words hit where they should. The flip of a coin equaled this because he was always with her and always would be.

,,Mark," she sniffled and her trembling hands lay in his larger ones, her warmth meeting his cold. He stroked her hands and then wiped away her tear with his thumb. So fragile and beautiful, he would have liked to tell her, but he knew there was a problem.

She would never be completely his if there was still Agent Peter Strahm. Instead, their eyes met again, her glassy eyes meeting his obsessive ones. Instead, he ventured forward, not waiting for her, and kissed her.

Finally kissed her after such a long time he had doted on her. He had finally been able to taste her. Her lips warm and soft, her sweetness and the saltiness of her tears.

He could feel how she seemed surprised at first, not knowing what was happening before she clung to him. Pulled him closer and returned the kiss. She held on to him tightly, he was the only one she needed. He was convinced that he was the only one she needed.

It was that kiss in her office that brought them together and they seemed to go from being colleagues to partners to a couple. That's how it looked at first because it was her conscience that got in his way.

As much as she loved him, her sense of justice and after the murders were something that separated her from him. The more he approached her, the more she seemed to try to fly.

And yet at the end of the day, when she lay in her bed and heard the lock to her apartment open late at night, she always let him. Always let his soothing, manipulative, controlling words get to her.

Let him into her bedroom and let him take her again and again. His hands roaming over her body, his words of praise in her head that was clouded with lust when they slept together. She overlooked the hint of brutality when he took her down.

She started to cry when he took her and it felt so good at the same time. His voice, his gaze, the blood on her body, his body desiring hers. She would whimper when she felt the cool metal of his weapon on her lips. And yet.

And yet every time she licked the gun, she saw his excited expression and the satisfied grin when he grabbed her by the neck and pulled her towards him to kiss her again. The fact that the gun could be fired at any time was of no interest to anyone.

The only thing they needed was each other and nothing more. At least that's what they both thought. That's what they thought for a long time...until he showed up.

Special Agent Peter Strahm came into the game after more victims appeared. A man who seemed to be the other side of Mark. He wasn't necessarily direct, he was softer and not so demanding, he was what Mark didn't perceive.

While Hoffman went too far in his mind and got lost between the two sides, it was Strahm who stood up to his actual colleague. And saw all the more who was the real victim in this whole department. Hoffman's colleague, partner and, for Strahm, clearly also his lover.

A fact that everyone seems to have turned a blind eye to because Mark Hoffman the hero only cared about his partner. They didn't both stay in the station until late at night to avoid disappearing into the locker room together. Strahm hadn't trusted Hoffman one bit from day one.

And yet, despite everything, it was one thing he realized he couldn't let go of. As much as he hated Hoffman, the more he wanted to free the detective from him. He was the righteous agent and he would save her, she deserved someone better like him and not Hoffman.

Two men who in their minds thought they had a claim on a woman, a life, that she was the one who should belong to the other. She was his. But who was his?

It was only a matter of time before Hoffman could no longer be with his beloved all the time. He had been given tasks and knew that he still had to keep the games going. His tasks were time-consuming and the door to his loved one's apartment remained closed more and more often.

She was left alone and as much as she longed for Hoffman, she could feel the special agent's eyes on her. She could feel him looking at her, handing her the coffee, his fingers stroking hers. Unlike Hoffman, he seemed to represent warmth.

His smile was sincere and his eyes followed her, worried that something might happen to her. ,,You did well today, darling," said Strahm who, like Hoffman, had found a nickname for his love. He had clearly seen how she reacted to her dependence on Hoffman, which had almost trained her. Her cheeks grew hot and she turned away in embarrassment.

She didn't see his knowing smile as he stepped closer to her, not brashly like Hoffman, but carefully, wanting to make her love him of her own free will and not out of dependence like Hoffman. ,,Darling? Strahm isn't that a bit...personal?" she asked, trying to cover whatever this situation was leading up to with a sip of coffee.

,,You tell me, darling, is it...personal?" he asked back, taking the coffee away from her and pushing her a little further, but she stood firm. He wouldn't give up and so he had her. He could feel her decision as she placed her hand on his chest. His hand slowly moved up her hand and ran lightly over her body.

Saw how she dropped her gaze, how the touch reminded her of Hoffman and yet it wasn't him. ,,Darling...answer me what is it?" he asked, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look at him. Saw how she pulled it towards him and how he would have loved to interrogate her under other circumstances.

But then it happened, she pressed herself against him, kissed him and with a victoriously satisfied grin, Strahm returned the kiss. He pressed her lightly against the locker, felt her clinging to him, felt how needy she actually was.

That night, the door to her apartment opened again and yet it wasn't Hoffman who came to her. He went into her bedroom and laid her on the bed in his arms. Because while Hoffman was in control, it was Strahm who wanted to tease her his darling.

He wanted to show her how good she could be and how far she could go if she wanted to. He caressed her body, leaving kisses and hickeys on it. Before he started teasing her pleading noises went through the room over and over again. He wiped away her tears and only kissed her more.

She praised him for his strength. ,,So good, so incredibly good for me darling" he told her over and over again as he gave himself to her. It was not pain but pure devotion as he pushed her back onto the bed, her wrists handcuffed to the bedpost.

He knew she would like it, she was learning to love the curiosity and the unknown with him. Before she ended up kissing the red strings and he took care of her. Not like Hoffman who pulled her close she knew she was his and yet the aftercare of Strahm seemed to mean the same.

But when night fell and all three parties reappeared at the station, something lay between them. Hoffman's chains had wrapped around her and Strahm had thrown his and hit her. She was caught between them, unaware that when they all three met in the hallway, Hoffman would see it.

He would see Strahm's victorious grin meet him as she ran her gaze over them, and both men would see each other's markings on the body of their beloved. ,,She's mine" came from Hoffman and his hand slid to her hip, pulling her closer and she felt his tension.

He seemed to want to smash Strahm's skull when she saw his fisted hands. But Strahm just kept smiling as he approached the two of them and stopped next to her, turning his gaze to Mark and saying, ,,Are you sure about that?".

Before he put his finger under her chin again and she looked at him. She saw his wink before he disappeared into the interrogation room with a ,,See you...Darling". But as in every trap, every game, in the end it was clear there could only be one.

Who did she belong to, who did her love belong to in the end. Mark Hoffman, who had built everything up through manipulation and lies, but if they were lies, why did her heart beat so fast when he drew her to him?

Or was it Peter Strahm's sense of justice and him as a hero, but hadn't he tempted her? Two men who learned in a bloody game that you could lose your lover faster than one would like.

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

@a-reading-dreamer , @megustadilf , @lola-max-sugar , @slut4hoffman