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[tangerinesgirl]

Idk if I explained why Fowl Play is spelt that way. All my Eric Newlon fics are titled after Thanksgiving themed puns, fowl being the term for poultry instead of "foul". Okay that's all, thanks for your time.

[tangerinesgirl]

How come I never see any fanart of Hoffman just covered in tattoos. It's like an unspoken rule that he has none but we never see him shirtless ever so WHAT IF he just has this massive chest piece and we didn't even know.

[tangerinesgirl]

Fowl Play

Chapter 1

Fem!Reader x Mark Hoffman x Eric Newlon

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Clever girl”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t even think about it princess”.

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

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

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

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

“You look very pretty when you cry”. 

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

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

[tangerinesgirl]

Complete Collapse

Costas Mandylor as Kenny Lacos x reader.

I did a collab w the amazing but deactivated @costashoffman.

Word count: 3.4k

Content: dubious consent, bondage, teasing, toys, squirting, car sex, the usual crap.

As you slip through the door of a store catered to just adults and their bedroom hobbies, your heart beats a little faster, not from fear, but from the thrill of what you're about to do. The aisles stretch out before you, filled with vibrators, dildos, plugs, various flavors and types of lube, cock rings, strap ons- anything anyone might need, was there. 

You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the shelves for items that call out to you. You look around to ensure no employee is watching you, or that there aren’t any security cameras around to capture your thievery. 

Each piece you select is slipped discretely into your bag, the weight of your burgeoning collection a tangible reminder of your daring. There's a rush in this act of rebellion, a feeling of power in taking what you've been told to leave untouched.

But as you prepare to walk out the front doors, you’re met with the sudden flash of blue and red lights through the store's windows. 

The sound of officers entering the store, their voices authoritative and stern, freezes you in your tracks. They're here for you. You've been caught. The handcuffs click around your wrists, a cold, hard confirmation of your actions.

Yet, in this moment of capture, your mind races. You're not ready to give up, not ready to face the consequences of your actions. As the officers are momentarily distracted while speaking to the general manager, you see your chance. With a heart pounding in your chest, you make a split-second decision to run.

Your escape is a blur of adrenaline and desperation. The city streets become a maze, one you navigate with the single-minded goal of evading the officers behind you. The handcuffs, still secured around your wrists, are a constant reminder of the stakes. You dart through alleys, your breaths coming in sharp gasps, your legs pushing you further into the night.

Just as you think you've made a clean escape, the night takes another turn. Out of the shadows, a young officer named Kenny Lacos emerges, his determination mirrored in the set of his jaw and the focus in his eyes. You barely have a moment to react before he tackles you from the side, taking you down with a precision that speaks of his training and a resolve that's all his own.

The ground rushes up to meet you, the impact knocking the wind out of your chest. Kenny's grip is firm, his presence a solid weight that pins you to the pavement. The adrenaline that fueled your flight now mixes with a rush of fear and frustration. You're caught, truly caught, with no room left to run.

Kenny alerts dispatch that you’ve been caught, and he will take you down to the station. The young officer grabs you by your shoulders and pulls you to the ground, holding you by your wrists. Kenny reads you your Miranda Rights as he escorts you to his patrol car, the lights still flash. 

You’re too embarrassed to respond, you merely nod at Kenny. You hold back tears from shame, and pain from landing on the cement, your face and arms are scraped and dirty. 

The back door to Kenny’s patrol car was already opened, he guides you into the seat but he’s not gentle - you land against the seat with a thud.

You lift your legs in, feeling defeated, knowing there's no way out now. He slams the door shut, grabs your bag off the ground, and chucks it to the floor of the passenger side as he climbs in. 

You wince in pain as the handcuffs securing your wrists together dig into your back. The hard plastic back seat of the patrol car is not very comfortable either. No matter how you tried to wiggle around and adjust yourself, something always hurt. Kenny glances back at you, a slight smirk resting upon his face.

"Is someone stuck?" Kenny asked teasingly, to which you respond by nodding and whimpering. Unbeknownst to you, when Kenny tossed your bag down, some of the items had fallen out. Biting his lip, Kenny knew just then what his plans were for you.

In the attempts to wiggle around and get comfortable, the black skirt that covers your thighs is hitched up just a little bit. A stinging pain covers the parts of your skin that made contact with the ground, only adding to your distress. The car takes a sharp, bumpy turn, and you look out the window to find you're in an empty lot. 

He parks in the middle of the empty lot and sits silently, staring out the window. The seconds stretch to minutes as you grow more tense, wondering why you're in the middle of an empty lot. 

"Umm, why are we stopped here?" You ask after about 3 minutes of growing silence. Slowly, he turns to face you, removing his seat belt as to move easier. 

"Well, I have to think about making the punishment fit the crime.." he says, making eye contact with you, making it feel as though his blue orbs are staring into your soul.

"What do you mean?! Am I under arrest?"

"That depends. Would you rather have a theft charge on your record? Or work this out between us right now?"

"What do you mean?" You ask. 

"Well, usually people steal things because they have a need, so I can only assume you need some kind of release."

"I... uhh...." Your eyes dart nervously from side to side, and you sigh because you can't deny that he's right. 

Kenny can read you like a book. A sly grin spread across his face, looking at you in the backseat, helpless. He can sense your nervousness, and he takes it to his advantage. You're trapped there, your hands cuffed behind your back, your seat belt keeping you in place. Reaching his hand out, Kenny softly touches your thigh, causing you to gasp, his fingertips like magic on your smooth skin, suddenly sparking something inside you. 

"Do you need a release?" He whispers, his fingertips dipping underneath the soft material of the garment that barely covers your thighs. Already feeling intoxicated just from his touch alone, you just stare at him and nod.

“Y-Yes.”

As the words escape your lips, admitting your desperate need for release, Kenny's eyes light up with eager anticipation. Kenny’s quick to reach for the bag of stolen items that had fallen to the floor of the car, and the grin spreads across his face as he rummages through its contents.

He sorts through the various sex toys nestled within the bag, each one a tantalizing promise of pleasure and satisfaction. After some moments of scanning the items, deciding what he wanted to use on you, Kenny selects a sleek vibrator from the array of items, its smooth surface cool to the touch as he holds it up for you to see. The toy he selected was average in length but very thick, dressed in blue silicone. 

"Well, well, well," Kenny tuts, admiring the toy in his hand. "Looks like you came prepared for a little fun, didn't you?"

You can only nod in response. Your cheeks flush crimson with embarrassment. But despite your apprehension, there's a surge of excitement that courses through you. He exits the vehicle, only to join you in the back seat so he has easier access to you. 

Kenny switches on the vibrator, its gentle hum filling the air of the car as he presses it against your throbbing clit. You gasp in pleasure as the vibrations send waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, your hips bucking instinctively against the toy. 

Kenny leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "You like that, don't you?“

You can barely nod as the pleasure courses through your body, the fact that you're handcuffed and held back by the seat belt only adding to your arousal. Unable to move, you can only sit there as Kenny presses the button, turning the power up another notch. 

Gasping, you pull your hips up, increasing the pressure of the toy against your clit, a wet spot beginning to form on the front of your black panties. Your eyes are closed, and you're completely lost in the feeling as your legs begin to tremble. You're barely able to focus, the sound of your moaning and whimpering filling the air. 

Sensing your approaching climax, Kenny chuckles as he withdraws the buzzing toy, much to your dismay. 

"You thought I would let you get off that easy?" He says, switching the toy off and dropping it to the seat next to you.

"Please..." You beg, your eyes wide, squirming and writhing, pushing towards him with the desire for more pleasure.

He pushes on your chest right between your breasts and then moves his hand over to squeeze your left nipple hard over your shirt, which causes you to gasp. 

"You're going to have to earn it, sweetheart," he purrs, his hand traveling down your body. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed. Just how he wants you. 

"That's better," he whispers in your ear, his thick fingers grazing the inside of your bare thigh. You look over at him, still struggling against your restraints.

He picks up the toy and, without turning it on, slowly runs it up your thigh to your sopping opening. You're desperate to feel it inside you. As you slightly raise your hips up, he pulls it away from you. 

"Be good," he asserts, "and I'll give you what you want."

Holding still, you gasp as he teases you with the tip for a few seconds. It's almost impossible to hold yourself still. 

"Good girl..." he slowly slides it inside you, "hold still for me...." You look at him, your lip quivering, begging with your eyes.

You moan as the girth of the toy stretches you out. It's been a while since you've done anything. You feel fuller than you've felt in a fat minute. But he doesn't move it, just keeps still. The toy is deep, resting snug against your cervix.

Holding the thick toy deep inside you, Kenny hits the button, turning on the vibrations and sending shockwaves through your body. You squeal and try to move around, desperate for more. You need it so bad. But he doesn't budge. He just holds it inside you as it vibrates your core. 

"Gah, fuck!" You moan loudly, throwing your head back. Kenny's free hand grips the soft flesh of your thigh hard, his fingernails leaving indents, preventing you from moving around as he relishes the site of you having to take whatever he gives you... You whine loudly, desperately needing some stimulation to your clit, but Kenny isn't giving in.

As Kenny pulls the toy out of you, you can't help but let out an aggravated groan of frustration. You feel so empty, desperate for more. 

Kenny just watches you, relishing the power he holds over your pleasure. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he's enjoying every moment of it.

"Please, Kenny," you sob. "I need more. I need to cum so badly."

But Kenny only teasingly trails his fingers along your thigh as he savors the sight of you squirming beneath him. 

"Not yet," He shakes his head, "You'll get to cum when I say so, and not a moment sooner."

With that, he reaches for the vibrator once again, but this time, he doesn't hold back. With a flick of his wrist, he turns it on to its highest setting, the intense vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. With his free hand, he teasingly dances over the sensitive skin of your clit with his fingers.

An almost sadistic looking smile spreads across his face as he watches your body shake. He is loving every bit of teasing you, of your reactions, and it shows. 

"Fuck you!" You cry as he pulls the buzzing vibrator away once again.

Kenny chuckles as he sets the toy down and reaches over to unbuckle your seat belt. The back of the police car is surprisingly roomy, so it's quite easy for him to rotate you on the seat and position himself between your legs. Your wrists are still cuffed behind your back, but he moves you with ease. His fingertips on one hand slowly graze your thigh as his other hand works to undo his pants. 

"Do you want to cum?" He asks as he removes his stiff cock from the confines of his pants. You bite your lip at the sight of it. You can see it throbbing as he tightly grips the shaft. Your pussy twitches just looking at his thick cock, begging to feel it.

"Yes," you whimper, "I need it, please..."

Teasing your wet opening with the tip, he bites his lip as you raise your hips up, ready to take every throbbing inch of him.

"Be good," he says, his voice dripping with desire and passion, "and do what I say." He slides his length inside of you, making you gasp. It was a lot girthier than the toy.

"Fuck yourself on my cock," he purrs, holding his hips still. You roll your hips up and down, taking his entire length inside your dripping cunt. High pitched moans escape your throat as the tip hits that sweet spot perfectly every time.

"Good girl," Kenny groans, "fuck, so good...."

Kenny picks up the vibrator, turning it to a medium setting and places it against the sensitive bud. Crying out in pleasure, you move your hips faster, and he thrusts inside you to match your movements.

"Stop moving," he demands as he places his hand on your lower stomach, firmly holding you down to the seat as he begins to fuck you hard and fast. You feel your climax approaching, and you look at him with pleading eyes. He looks into your eyes as he turns the vibration to the highest setting, making you squeal loudly.

"Can i... can I cum?" You gasp, your legs shaking, your breathing shaky, your nipples so hard you feel like they could cut glass.

"You can cum," he whispers in your ear, "cum for me..." 

The second he says that, you come unraveled, your body trembling violently. But he doesn't stop or even slow down, still fucking you deep and hard as he holds the vibrating toy firmly against your throbbing clit. His other hand presses down on your lower stomach, preventing you from moving around.

Kenny doesn't seem the slightest bit tired as he continues to pound into you. Your head is spinning, and it's as though you've lost control of your body. You gasp for breath as the toy continues to vibrate your super sensitive clit, his thick cock moving like a piston inside you.

Without warning, another orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your body convulses as Kenny's hand keeps your hips pinned down. Overstimulation hits you like a train. It feels like a fires been ignited between your legs, and you try desperately to break away from his grip.

"Please..." You beg, "i.. I can't..." You can't even finish your sentence. 

"You wanted to cum," Kenny growls, "so you're gonna cum."

For some reason, you wanting him to stop, and him not stopping, just makes you want more. The sensation is like electricity coursing through your veins, but you can't get enough of it. Your body falls limp, your mouth hanging open, barely able to form any sounds. A sheet of sweat collects on both of your bodies. The metal handcuffs are sure to have cut into your skin by now, but you pay it no attention.

The slickness of your arousal makes it difficult to hold the toy still on your throbbing clit, so the movement of it only adds to your sensitivity. Kenny intensifies his movements, his thick cock driving into you with even more force as he continues to stimulate your sensitive clit with the vibrating toy. The dual sensation pushes you over the edge once again, and you're powerless to resist as another mind-shattering orgasm rips through your body.

Your back arches off the seat of the patrol car, your nails digging into your palms as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your cries of pleasure fill the air, echoing off the walls of the car.

“That’s a good girl,” Kenny kisses your neck softly, your skin salty from sweat. He stills his hips for just a moment and moves the vibrator to the side, giving you a moment of relief.

“I think I can get one more out of you, huh? Think you can cum again for me?”

"I don't... think.... I can..." You gasp, catching your breath. Your head is spinning, body twitching, like a bug that's just been stepped on. Black streaks of mascara stain your cheeks, your hair a mess. You're not sure how much more you can take. But being pushed further than that is what excites you the most.

"Aww, come on," Kenny teases, trailing the vibrater slowly up your thigh, "one more."

Without waiting for an answer, Kenny swiftly moved the toy between your legs once again, turning it back to the highest setting. He snaps his hips forward, fucking you deep, the tip of his cock punching your cervix repeatedly, sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure shooting through your body.

Your throat and mouth are dry and sore from screaming. You just lie there with your mouth hanging open as Kenny has his way with you. This is the most used you've ever felt before, but you're absolutely in love with the sensation. Knowing you're going to be sore, unable to walk for days after this.

A high-pitched yet hoarse squeel emits from your throat as a fourth orgasm quickly approaches. He pounds into you relentlessly, each thrust sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your walls clench around him, and a sudden rush of fluid comes out of you, catching both you and Kenny by surprise.

"Oh my god," you shriek, the immense pleasure you feel outweighing any embarrassment or shock over what just happened. Kenny doesn't seem to mind that you soaked the front of his clothes as his breathing gets heavier.

Kenny groans loudly and quickly withdraws his cock as he cums, the hot, white fluid shooting out towards you, landing in your hair and all over the front of your shirt. Kenny falls back against the door of the vehicle, panting, catching his breath. As your breathing slowly returns to normal, you look up at him as he's zipping his pants back up.

"You really made a mess on me," he chuckles, looking down at his shirt, soaked with your fluids. Your cheeks turn a crimson colour with embarrassment because that's never happened to you before.

"Nobody's ever made me do that before," you say shyly, looking up at Kenny. He smiles at you, reaching for the key to your handcuffs.

"Let's get you out of this." You lean into his chest as he undoes the cuffs. Your shoulders and elbows are sore as you pull your arms in front of you, your wrists bloody from the handcuffs digging into your skin.

Kenny reaches in the front for a first aid kit. You watch as he slowly dresses your wounds, a small hint of regret in his eyes as he wraps bandages around your sore limbs.

"So what does this mean? Am I free to go?" You ask nervously. He looks at you with a smirk on his face.

The sky is dark by this point as he drives you home, the ride filled with silence. Kenny lets you ride shotgun as opposed to the hard plastic back seat. As the patrol car rolls up in front of your house, Kenny picks up the bag of goodies and places it in your lap.

"Keep it," he says, opening the glove box and producing a business card, "and call me if you need another release." He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

Smiling back and biting your lip, you take the bag into your hands and drop the card inside. Your legs are still trembling, but you manage to reach your front door. Just before slipping inside, you turn back to him.

He winks at you before driving off.

[tangerinesgirl]

I’m on my knees BEGGING please write something for the marquis, there hasn’t been anything new for MONTHS

Fully Charged

Fem!Reader x Marquis de Gramont

Word count: 800 (could have sworn this was longer!)

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: smut, p in v, phone sex, exhibitionism, rough sex, creampie

Summary: After spending the night together, the Marquis has an important phone call to answer, right in the middle of you two having sex.

The sun streaming in from the curtains gently woke you up. Your mind instantly jumps back to the events of last night; the party, how the Marquis couldn’t keep his hands off you on the ride back in front of the chauffeur, the passionate kiss leading you both to the bedroom. The way he wanted you to leave your dress on as he guided you onto the bed and ate your pussy like a man starved. The way you rode him all night, and slept naked on his expensive silk sheets together.

Your mind flicks back to reality, you can feel the Marquis slowly waking up too. You can tell this by the growing morning wood you can feel on your back as he spoons you deeply. He lets out a deep inhale as he wakes up to nuzzle into your neck. “Good morning”, even though he can be quite harsh for the organisation he works for, which can bleed into his sex life too, he can be surprisingly nice when he wants to. 

You turn over to face him and straddle his waist so his wood is teasing at your entrance, “Hmm yeah I would say it is, yes”, you both smile knowing what you’re alluding to. 

“I can still feel how wet you were from last night… Did my baby girl not get enough attention?”, he tucks in a stray hair behind your ear, looking at your eyes then down down at your lips.

“I could say the same for you”, you bite your lip as you flip yourself on top of him. You start to grind on his member as he reaches for your sunlit tits, your nipples growing hard from his touch. 

Precum is already leaking out of him, as you insert his cock into you. You let out a satisfied moan as he fills you up perfectly, when-

*BZZ BZZ BZZ*

“Don’t move”, the Marquis demands, his sudden tone turning you on even more as you clench around him. He answers the phone with no greeting, holding it up to his ear. He covers the speaker briefly, “Did I tell you to stop?”, he has totally changed, you can tell it was important business by the way he instantly got worked up. You continue to ride him slowly so the bed doesn’t creak too loudly. “Mmhmm, so you didn’t do as you’re fucking told?”, he pulls your hair as a signal for you to go harder. You guide his hand down to your breasts where he tugs on your nipple. You suddenly forget yourself and let out a little “Marquis”. He instantly puts his hand around your mouth. You stop. There’s a long pause, then, “No, now is a good time. Continue.” 

You take this as a signal to resume riding him, when he suddenly flips you over, putting you on your back. “I gave you one simple instruction”, he puts the phone down and on speaker, so he can have a better grip on you. “But seems you can’t follow fucking orders”, his hand grips your mouth and jaw as he starts pounding into you, as he unleashes his anger through you. His cock knocking against your cervix, tears forming at the side of your eyes as you try not to moan out loud.

He stops suddenly as his other hand, that’s currently protecting the headboard from making a noise, dips underneath you, his fingers starting to play with your clit. “So by noon today I want you to fix your simple mistake”. You can hear the caller on the other end close to tears, spilling constant apologies out of his mouth. You let out a little whimper as he plays with your sensitive nub. “Just a moment”, he covers the speaker again and ducks down to whisper into your ear, “if you don’t be quiet, I’ll make you be quiet”. You let out a small nod, “Good girl”, he smirks. 

“Now as I was saying,” he resumes hammering into you without warning, your legs wrapping around his waist to take him deeper, “if I don’t hear back from you in two hours saying you’ve located Mr Wick,” you can feel the Marquis getting closer to finishing. You aren’t far behind him as you arch your back. “I will hang you for all the Continental to see, as a warning, and simply just because I can. Understood?” The caller whimpers and agrees, hanging up soon after.

The Marquis lets go of your jaw and you both spill moans out as he reaches his climax, he continues to rut into you as you can feel yourself filling up with his seed. The sensation brings you to your peak as you come undone underneath him, tensing up around his dick as he unloads into you. He pants and groans as you milk him for everything that he has, as he claims you as his. He removes himself from you, his hand pushing his seed back into you. He wipes away a tear from your face and gives you a quick kiss on your neck, "Mine", he whispers as he falls onto the bed with a deep exhale.

“So… Do you have any more phone calls to take?”, you look at each other with a smile.

[tangerinesgirl]

Hello! Just a quick ✨update✨ to my blog/bio. I don't always reply to my asks but I do read and appreciate every single one 💕 Fic ideas, conversations, compliments, I'm here for it! I also don't really have one specific fandom/person I write for; I just tend to write for my current hyperfixations, so any asks for any character will be read, maybe we have the same taste in morally grey fictional characters!

Fanfic updates: Please be patient with me, I don't write very often, this is like my super part time hobby! I still have that other John Carver one in the works...it's still being a pain to write. Good news though, to everyone asking, I do have a start of a Marquis fic that I'm tempted to pick up again.

[tangerinesgirl]

"Between Us" - Feyd Rautha x Wife!Reader

a/n: from an anon request. just a fun lil drabble 🩷

Summary: Feyd gives you a gift that you won't soon forget, proving nothing will come between the two of you.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, murder/violence, bullying, blood kink, choking, fingering, oral m receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 1,236

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

It’s late when Feyd finally comes to your shared bedchamber. His days have grown longer ever since taking up the title of Baron. He resents that it takes him away from you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made him truly happy. But this burden is his honor and his duty as his uncle’s chosen heir. Though he spends so many hours away from you, he always makes sure to return to your bed and only yours every night. He had his fun with his concubines, memories that he looks back on with fondness, but now? He can’t imagine being with anyone but you. His pets have fallen to the wayside ever since the first time he had you. 

Nothing and no one else could ever satisfy him the way you do.

Feyd expects you to come running into his arms, embracing him as you always do. He is a cold man, bloodthirsty and cruel, but your love and affection softens him. He frowns when he opens the door and sees you standing at the balcony, wearing your nightgown. The moon lights up your skin, making you look like some sort of ethereal goddess. He approaches you, moving your hair off your shoulder to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice.

He turns you around to face him, hands cupping your face as he questions, “What troubles you?”

As if waking from a trance, you blink, meeting his gaze with a melancholy smile, “Nothing, my lord. Everything is fine.”

Your answer comes a moment too quickly and Feyd shakes his head, “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying to me.”

You pause before sighing, “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

The way you ask is so endearing that he can’t help but nod, “I promise.”

“One of your… Concubines…” It’s as if you struggle to say the word, your innocence bringing a smile to his face as he forces himself to hold back a chuckle, “One of them approached me and…” You shake your head, cutting yourself off, “Never mind. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Feyd narrows his eyes, gripping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly, “Tell me.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes, the sight of which has never failed to make his heart, which he once thought to be nonexistent, melt, “She said a weak little thing like me could never satisfy you the way the three of them did. That you’ll grow bored of me and come back to them. That you don’t…”

The way your breath hitches, tears pooling in your eyes…

Rage fills your husband, fire in his veins, “That I don’t what, little one?”

“That you don’t love me. That you never will,” comes your anguished whisper. Feyd lets out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Feyd, please don’t be angry with me, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

He quickly realizes that you’ve mistaken his anger as being directed toward you and loosens his grip, shaking his head though his expression is still furious, “I’m not angry at you. I would never be angry at you. You are the only one who brings any sense of calm into my life, little one. You are my wife. I chose you.”

He releases you from his grip, stalking past you toward the door. 

Your lips part in surprise as you stare after him, confused, “My lord?”

Feyd pauses, turning to look at you, pulling his dagger from its sheath, gritting his teeth, “I have to take care of something, my love. I’ll return soon.”

“FEYD?!”

His grin is bloody at the sound of your shriek, the heads of his three concubines thrown at your feet. Feyd chuckles as you scramble backward on the bed, staring at the disembodied heads with shock. He crawls over your body, feeling pleased when you calm at his touch, your hands resting on his cheeks, still stained with blood. He traces your lips with his thumb, watching as your eyes flutter shut at his touch.

“I will never let anyone come between us, little one,” he rasps, pressing his lips to your jaws, the blood of his concubines staining your skin, “Never. You are the one I love, the one I chose. I never went to see them after I took you as my own because I know their touch could never satisfy my lust, my love the way yours can.”

You kiss him, your legs parting to accommodate his frame as his tongue moves against your own. He’s eager tonight, you muse, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against you. He moves your underwear to the side, fingers stroking at your slit, a wicked smile on his face.

“Seeing your lord husband painted in blood made you so wet,” Feyd whispers, “It seems my little wife isn’t so innocent after all.”

You bite back a smile as he spreads your thighs, mouthing at your wet cunt. And when you close your eyes, your head falling back against your pillow, he lands a slap against your center. A reminder that if you don’t keep your eyes locked on him, what he’s doing to you, he won’t allow you to reach your peak. He moans, pulling you in close, burying his face between your legs, inhaling your scent as he continues lapping at your folds like a man starved. Your fingers twist in the silken bedsheets, losing yourself in the pleasure he gives you, reaching your peak against his tongue, pulling him into another kiss as he crawls over you.

“No woman could ever taste as sweet, mewl my name so perfectly,” he vows, slipping his pants down to reveal his pale cock, already achingly hard, leaking from the tip, “It’s only you, my love. No one will ever come between us. Not even death.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling him rut against you, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he slams back into you, your nails raking down the pale skin of his back, leaving an angry red trail in their wake. Feyd bites down hard on your neck, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark. You take his hand, bringing it to your throat, and Feyd immediately knows what you wish of him. He squeezes, restricting your airflow, smirking at the way it makes your body tense, your peak quickly approaching once again. Your eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, his hot seed filling you.

Perhaps you seemed a sweet, unassuming little thing to your husband’s former lovers. But they didn’t realize that the longer you spent with him, the more your tastes began to mirror those of your husband.

He presses his lips to yours in a kiss, uncharacteristically gentle and yet still so very passionate as he vows to you once again, “I love you. Nothing will ever come between us.”

You grin, moving to lay on top of him, raking your nails down his chest as you whisper, feeling his cock already beginning to twitch against your thigh, “I believe you, my husband.”

Feyd chuckles, hands moving to palm at the flesh of your ass, groaning slightly as you continue your ministrations, clearly not wanting tonight’s fun to be through, “What a greedy little monster I’ve made of you, little one.”

[tangerinesgirl]

alastor, who comes back to hotel from an overlord meeting with a twitch in his eye and a white-knuckled grasp around his mic, pouring off waves of irritation that leaves the others scrambling.

alastor, who says nothing but a sharp crackle of your name, a silent command for you to come with him as he makes his way to the room he claimed as his own.

alastor, who is deathly silent in the elevator, only tapping his claws against his mic as he watches the floors pass, his other hand resting heavy on the small of your back.

alastor, who bolts the bedroom door shut and commands you with a single word. “strip.”

alastor, whose eyes grow hungrier and whose smile grows wider and bigger the more you undress for him.

alastor, who fucks you so roughly against the wall first that you swear you see stars as he ruts up into your heat like his life depends on it.

alastor, whose claws dig into the delicate flesh of your skin as he rams into you, and the smell and taste of your blood only pulls him deeper into his daze of lust-fueled fury.

alastor, who rasps and crackles absolute filth into your ear as he maneuvers your knees up to your chest on his bed so he can fuck into you deeper. “such an obedient pet for me, aren’t you, darling? always so good and willing. i think that deserves a reward, don’t you?”

alastor, who allows you to cum first (and licks it up with that long, silver tongue of his) before using you to chase after his own pleasure.

alastor, whose antlers grow and eyes redden further as he approaches his climax, baring his teeth to leave a bite mark in the juncture of your shoulder and laving his tongue over the blood that trickles from the wound.

alastor, who buries himself as deep as he can possibly go inside you before reaching his end and collapsing on top of you as you feel his antlers shrink back and his chest heave with breath.

alastor, who relaxes slowly and even hums a soft, barely-there purr as you gently rub at his pointed ears and caress his scarlet tresses.

alastor, who allows himself just a few minutes of silence before getting himself up and dressed to run a bath for you.

alastor, who forces you to eat the stew he made for you after, even if you’re not hungry. “eat up, my dear. i can’t have my darling doll too weak to take me next time, hmm?”

alastor, who smiles to himself for days when he sees the bruise from his bite mark poking from the edge of your collar.

[tangerinesgirl]

Unravel

AFAB!Reader x Mark Hoffman

Word count: 1.8k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: smut, masochism, size difference, some brief talk of weight, creampie, mostly Dom!Reader but some Dom!Mark, spitting, p in v

Summary: Your ex, Mark, has no where to go after the glass coffin trap and needs your help...even though you've been on a break.

Notes: I wanted to challenge myself to write a fic that has more detail this time. Reading my works back they all seem super quick to get into the action. So let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

You jump out of your skin at the loud bang against your apartment door. You begrudgingly roll over to the bedside table to check your phone: 1:03AM. Sighing, you put on slippers and stagger to the door. There's a more polite knock this time as you look through the peep hole: it's Mark Hoffman.

You and Mark had a rocky relationship ever since he became an apprentice for John Kramer. You found out from his clothing being torn, covered in oil and miscellaneous substances, or just straight up gone missing, and confronted him about it. He showed you the way of the traps and Kramer's ideology, part of you was sick to your stomach thinking about how many people have died like this, but the other part of you was seriously into how he would build the traps, brainstorming ideas and coming home all hot and bothered. But in the end, you had to take a break, Mark couldn't commit to a relationship as he was essentially married to his work. What you both had was fun, but you always wanted something more.

You unlock the door and Mark tumbles into your flat and walks straight into the kitchen. When you turn around you notice his once silk blue shirt is now red, full of cuts and glass shards. You don't quite know how he got to you; did he drive? Walk? Either way it was impressive how he's still standing. He swipes the kitchen table clean and dumps a first aid kit down. "Fix me", he demands of you. You sigh, thinking about how many months have passed without hearing from him and he turns up like this out of the blue, then inevitably grab some tweezers and sterilising fluid.

Nothing more is said after that, the only sound in the room is you cutting off Hoffman's shirt. Mark had actually trained you in first aid since he started up the traps, to cover for all eventualities. Things like how to stitch a wound, fix dislocations, and so on. You didn't think you'd actually have to use it when he left. It's not exactly like he could fish out the shards himself so it made sense in a way, even though it was painful for you to see him again. Maybe not as painful as the actual glass in his back though. You carefully start removing pieces from him, every so often he flinches but stays as stoic as ever. You put each shard on the table, disinfecting the tweezers as you go. It's painstaking, especially without a word being said. There's too many thoughts whizzing around your head, you wouldn't even know where to start, so you focus on your work instead.

You dab at the wounds with wipes, you notice a couple of particularly deep ones need stitches, and few more need steri-strips. You start to unwind your thread, and begin to close them up. He still flinches and groans occasionally as you fix his wounds. You're surprised you have enough steri strips for the rest. You give it one last glance over to make sure there's no more tint hidden pieces. Once you're happy with your work, you start to pack the rest of the stuff away.

As you reach for an unused bandage, Hoffman suddenly grabs your wrist. You turn to look at him, and he looks at you, deeply into your eyes, as if to say "thank you" without actually saying it, since that wasn't really part of his nature. He then glances down briefly at your lips. He thinks you didn't notice, but you did, and you look down at his too.

There's a lot of tension in the room, and you find it extremely hot that not a word has been said in the last two, maybe three, hours. You've lost track of time, you always do when Mark is around, because nothing else matters. You start to move forward into a kiss but you stop, inches away from him. Mark looks at your lips again. Then he suddenly puts his hand on the base of your skull behind your head and grips your hair. You let out a little surprise gasp.

Then everything happens so fast.

Mark slams his lips against yours, like a man starved, his kisses are desperate and all tongues. You both lightly moan through the heavy kisses, you sit on his lap and start to drag your hand through his hair in exchange, tugging occasionally. You start grinding while on his lap, searching for more. You can feel his member through his trousers. Then you accidentally knock one the cuts on his back and he groans out in pain, however you couldn't help but notice his cock twitch as you did so, now semi erect. You both stop for a bit and share a glance, not one of humiliation but of realisation. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, and start to purposefully play with one of his stitched wounds. Mark moans and quickly grabs your other hand that's resting on his chest.

"Stop", he commands. There's clearly some unsaid things between you and Mark. You stop and look at him, you both look at each other with need and desperation.

"I don't know how far I'll go, I can't promise I'll be gentle", Mark has danger in his eyes.

"I know", you admit. Mark was always the kind to take out a rough day at work through sex, and you had a feeling tonight was no exception. But it somehow felt different. It could be the time you've had away from each other, or whatever he experienced that night had him particularly wound up.

"Same safe word?", you ask. He nods slightly, and in a flash he's back to passionately kissing you. He lifts you up, trying to walk you to the bedroom, but can't see where he's going as he's so tied up in the moment. He slams you into a wall, you moan as the air is pushed out of you.

You break the kiss momentarily to remove your top, you must have each other now and can't wait until you're in the bedroom. Mark removes your bra, his hands replacing it. His hands are so large, one hand seems to cover your entire chest. His rough skin feels amazing on your soft breasts. You moan as you remove your underwear. Mark breaks the kiss to kick off his trousers and underwear. He catches you looking at his erection, he walks back over to you and grabs your hair.

"How do I look?", he growls in your ear. You moan and start to kiss him again.

Without warning he pushes his cock into you. You forgot how well he filled you up. He was just the right size, but girthier than average. His thickness stung a little since he slammed into you without warning, but it's a good thing you were already slick with arousal. You hold him around his neck as he's lifting you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he's slamming into you against the wall.

With him still inside you, he then carries you over to the kitchen table. It's a good thing you packed everything away earlier. You put your feet on the edge, with your back on the table. Mark continues to push inside of you, sweat starting to glisten down his forehead, onto his large chest. Somewhat hairy, but oh so broad. His frame and arms have always been a turn on for you. Sometimes he was self conscious about his weight but you found it extremely hot. Especially the way it felt on top of you.

You sit up, breaking his momentum briefly, as you can feel the table shake, becoming more and more unstable. You push him to the chair where he was sat as you were cleaning his wounds, and motioned for him to sit down. You straddle him like before, only this time you were completely naked. You haven't felt this powerful for a while. You start to ride him, reaching behind you to start and fondle his balls. He tilts his head back in pleasure, mouth wide open. You stop briefly to hold his jaw open, you look over him as a dribble of your spit travels into his mouth. You forcefully close his mouth to get him to swallow, and continue to ride him.

It's not often you're able to take charge, but you were enjoying it. Hoffman, even though he wouldn't admit it afterwards, likes to think he's dominant at heart, but also loves it when someone takes control.

Your hands start to trail down his back once again. You could feel a few of his stitches had begun to unravel. Mark hisses as you trace your fingers over them. You stop briefly, making sure he was okay with you going further. After no safe word, you continue to pluck open a wound. Mark pretty much jumps out of his seat, slamming into you as he does so. You both moan, the lines of pleasure and pain blurring. You start to dip your finger into the warmth, blood coating your finger and travelling down his body.

"Y/N, I'm gonna-", Mark trails off. You remove your finger, and smear the blood as you caress his face. Around his lips, his jaw, down to his neck.

Mark is VERY into this, he's a massive masochist and seeing you like this has his mind going into overtime. What traps could you come up with? Maybe you could come with him during the next game, getting off on your hard work, putting each other in a trap, and seeing others in them. Watching them struggle in your game, totally oblivious to you and Mark having the steamiest sex of your lives over the monitor.

At this thought, he starts to cum inside of you. The biggest orgasm of his life. You continue to ride his orgasm out of him, the amount of cum you can feel inside you also triggers your orgasm. Mark slams you down by your shoulders to get you to stop moving as his penis slowly grows softer and twitches inside of you. You collapse into Mark's chest, both of you breathless.

You both sit there for a moment, taking everything in. Mark still inside you, his cum leaking out onto the chair, onto the floor, mixing with the blood from his wound that you opened.

You eventually move and mention that you should clean him back up. Mark reluctantly agrees. Neither of you decide to put your clothes back on, as you start to disinfect the table and open your first aid kit again. You mend his stitches and clean him up, and Mark is giving you that look again. Looking at your lips, totally helpless. You sigh as you realise you'll be stitching him back up once again.

[tangerinesgirl]

Like A Bitch in Heat

@deedoop and I came up w this hehe

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, CNC, breeding kink, prey v predator, gun play, blood play, violence, fear play, NSFW *EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL*

Description: You and Mark Hoffman enjoy playing a friendly game of cat and mouse.

-

It’s dark, moonlight peeks through the tall tees and the bright light of your flashlight beams in front of you. Leaves and twigs crunch under your feet as you carefully step through the forest, the wind howls with every gust.

It’s late, maybe around 11:30Pm if you had to guess and you’re out in the woods, you’ve just set up your campgrounds for the night and you need to gather wood for the fire. You came alone, but you’re expecting a visitor.

You hear animals and birds in the distance, owls hoot, coyotes howl and cicadas chirp, adding to the eerie surroundings. The air smells damp with soil and mildew, the scent of distant fires add a smoky element.

Crunch.

You gasp and jump, your head whips around as your flashlight scans around the area. With fearful eyes, your hands tremble as you fear what may be lurking. After a few moments, you reluctantly deem the area safe after a lack of further disturbance.

You take a few more steps, you’re more on edge than you were when you entered the woods. You feel like there are eyes on you, that there’s someone else in the woods with you that isn’t a nosy raccoon or hungry coyote.

In the distance, you see a pile of discarded logs. You set your sights and move closer, you almost feel relieved when you find the logs. You let out a sigh of relief.

You’re inches away from the logs, your arm reaches out but you’re stopped. Your eyes widen and you gasp, dropping the flashlight as you feel a hand cover your mouth, while another grabs a fistful of your hair.

“I’ve been looking for you.” A voice whispers in your ear. Your body fills with fear as you try to scream but every cry is muffled by the palm of the detective’s hand.

You fight and thrash around, your hands pull at Mark’s hand, scratching and hitting his arms. “Don’t try to fight me, girl. You won’t like the outcome.”

Mark suddenly grunts as your foot goes back between his legs, you miss and hit the inside of his thigh with your boot. He uncovers your mouth and forces your head forward, your skull crashes against the hard bark of a tree.

“You fucking cunt!” He snarls, crashing your head against the tree once more. You see stars and your head spins, pain thumps in your head. You fall to the ground on your knees, landing with a thud.

Mark lowers himself in front of you, his hand cups your cheek. You feel warm blood drip down your face, and Mark smears it around with his thumb. You whimper weakly, tears rolling down your face as you look at him with half hooded eyes.

“I knew you’d be here…” His voice is low, he leans in close and takes a deep sniff. “I could smell you from a mile away, like a bitch in heat.”

“Please..” You whimper, you try to look at him but your vision is blurred. You know it’s Mark, but you can’t focus on him.

“Begging ain’t gonna save you here, bitch.”

You feel helpless, like you’re the size of a grain of sand in front of a meteor. The power Mark holds over you seems like it’s creating a powerful aura around him, anyone in his presence was sure to feel minuscule.

Mark pulls out his pistol from his side, you see the metal shine under the moonlight. His thumb cocks the gun, loading a bullet into the chamber. He smiles as he dances the loaded gun in front of your face, seeing as you tremble with pure terror.

You maintain your gaze on the barrel of the gun, looking down at something that could turn off all the lights in one fell swoop. His finger rests on the trigger.

Mark puts the gun up to your lips, commanding you to suck it. He threatens to fire the gun if you disobey his order, and you comply out of fear. Your jaw opens shakily, he inserts the cool metal of the barrel into your mouth.

“There you go. Play nice and I’ll let you walk free.” He watches you closely as your lips wrap around the gun, tears and blood stream down your cheeks. You suck on the metal, twisting your head with each stroke. Your head fucking hurts.

While Mark is focused on you, one of your hands blindly fumbles to find anything to ward him off. You feel around and find a twig with a sharp edge, indicating it was broken off at an angle. He’s smiling at you devilishly, reveling in your submission.

He pulls the gun out of your mouth when he’s satisfied with your work, drool coats the black barrel. He cups your chin and looks into your eyes, he squeezes the trigger with his index finger and a loud bang rips through the forest as the bullet makes contact with a tree.

You scream and cover your ears, shaking and falling on your ass at the shock. Your ears ring and you feel even more disoriented. Mark blows the smoke from the barrel, tucking it back into the holster.

“Aww. Was that scary?” He says in a mocking tone, “The big, bad Detective nearly blew your fucking brains out and all you could do was sit there like some pathetic little bitch.”

You sob as you tremble, watching as Mark walks over to you. He straddles your body, the weight of the Detective holds you in place. “Fear is a good look on you, every tear you shed merely encourages me.”

Mark strokes your hair, you let out a blood curdling scream as his thumb presses into the fresh wound on your head. He’s laughing at your pain, and you’re more desperate than ever to escape. Your hand finds the sharp twig and with all of your strength, you plunge the stick into his right shoulder.

“Fuck!” Mark cries out, he falls back as his hands fly up to the twig. You land a firm punch in the middle of his face, and you stumble to your feet, heading southbound.

Mark is quick to pull his gun out, he fires another round at the ground by your feet. You fall into a pile of leaves and other debris. You hear shuffling behind you, and you roll onto your back to see Mark standing above you.

He’s smirking as blood spills from his nose, the twig is still firmly planted in his muscle. Crimson blood stains his white shirt, a growing stain appears on the fabric. “That’s real cute.”

The man pulls the twig from his shoulder, blood gushes out of the wound and some sprays on your face. He tosses it to the side and it lands with a nearly inaudible noise. His eyes are fixated on you as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his blood stained skin. He smears the blood around as it continues to seep from the fresh wound.

He leans over you, “You should’ve fought a little harder, and maybe you would’ve gotten away.”He sneered. He holds you down by your shoulders, his weight has returned on top of you.

You whine, you’re kicking your legs and squirming underneath him, off the ground but his balance never halters. His hands grab your clothes breasts, thumbs pinching your sensitive nipples underneath.

“Are you gonna fucking stop?!” He spits in your face, “Look at me! You fucking worthless bitch. Are you gonna take my cock? Huh? Or do I need to do something worse for you to fucking obey me.”

You look up at him, snot mixing into the blood and tears that stain your face. You spit in his face, “Fuck you.”

“That’s it.” Mark grabs your hair and bashes his forehead against yours, adding to the pain that was already there. You fall back to the ground, smiling up at Mark.

“If you’re smiling, then I’m sure as shit doing something wrong.” He grabs ahold of your shirt, tearing the fabric off of your body. Your nipples harden under the cold wind, his thumbs pinch and pull at them. He crashes his lips against yours, you taste a salty mix of blood, sweat and saliva. He kisses you hungrily, the metallic flavor of your blood adds to his arousal.

Your hands roam over his body with the strength you could muster, smearing blood around the man’s torso. You moan softly at the wet warmth, hands trailing down further.

Mark stops you from advancing by grabbing your hair. he picks you up and tosses you left, you trip over an old tree stump. “Pathetic..pathetic..pathetic.”

His rough hands on your leggings, tearing the fabric open with a swift move.

You’re naked, with the exception of your shoes and panties but the thin fabric wouldn’t be around for long. Mark grabs them and pulls them down, goosebumps the bare skin of your ass under the cold wind.

You hear Mark’s buckle unfasten and you feel him get closer to you, crying out as he shoves his cock inside of you in a quick movement. You cry out at the intrusion, feeling the length of his shaft tear you nearly in two. He growls as your tight, warm cunt wraps around his cock, he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward.

“Ah!” You scream, your hands grip onto the edge of the tree stump. With each thrust your skin scrapes against the rough wood, surely leaving a few splinters. His hand snakes around your neck, pulling you up to his chest.

“You’re nothing but a bitch to fuck.” He bites your neck, “You love it though, isn’t that right? You love when I fuck your needy little cunt, you want me to fuck my cum deep inside of you.”

You nod, your eyes flutter shut as he pounds into your cunt. The drag of his cock sends waves of pleasure through your body. “Y-Yes, s-sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you - fuck.” You’re a blabbering mess under the spell of his cock, “I want you to breed me, sir. Please.”

“You want me to fuck a baby in you, huh?” Your ass bounced against him with each thrust. “Claim you as mine…as your belly grows you’ll be reminded every damn day of who owns you.”

“Oh god, yes! P-Please.” You push your hips back against his, filling yourself up with every inch he could provide.

“Such a greedy little girl.” He tuts, your hair tangled around his fingers. You feel him kiss your neck, his teeth graze over the sensitive skin. He licks a stripe from behind your ear to your collar bone, you hear a pop as his teeth sink into the flesh.

“Fuck!” He snickers, his tongue laps at the crimson liquid forming at the wound. He growls lowly as he feeds like a vampire, the metallic taste floods his mouth.

Your legs squeeze together, feeling his balls slap against your clit. He feels as your thighs begin to shake, he taunts you as your release slowly creeps up on you. “Is someone gonna cum?”

You nod frantically, his hand squeezes your neck tighter. You can hardly breathe but it adds to your pleasure, your throat feels raw from screaming but that doesn’t stop you from letting out filthy sounds.

“You’re gonna cum as I fuck my load into your pussy.” He says, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Your own slick fluids drip down your thighs. Your bodies stick together with sweat and drying blood.

Mark is breathless as he fucks into you, his grip around your waist is tight. The pads of his fingers dig into your bare skin, surely leaving bruises Your mouth hangs open with pleasure, soft pants escape with each thrust. Blood crusts on your eyelashes and mats your hair to your forehead.

Mark holds you down against the stump, his teeth dig harder into your skin as he reaches his peak, he fills up your pussy with every last drop of his sweet cum. He removes his teeth and arches his back, nearly howling like a wolf at his release.

Your cunt drips as you feel his cock erupt inside of you, painting your walls white.

“Go on, bitch. I want to feel your greedy pussy cum.”

Your cunt pulses around his throbbing cock as you fly over the edge, a mix of pleasure and pain flood your mind. Mark fucks you through your orgasm, you both shiver at the overstimulation. You’re panting and gasping, whining at the emptiness as Mark pulls his cock out of you. He watches as droplets of his seed seep out of your glistening cunt, he gathers the white fluid with his fingers and dips them into your cunt.

You jerk as he pushes his fingers deep into you, twisting inside your walls. He’s not risking anything by losing even the smallest amount of his cum, he pushes the fluid as deep into you as he could.

Mark removes his fingers, tucks himself into his pants and helps you to your feet. He hands you his jacket to cover yourself up with, he picks you up and holds you securely in his arms.

“Did you really have to stab me?” He looks down at your dirty, bloody face.

“It was fucking hot. Be grateful I didn’t hit a major artery.” You smile weakly at him, your teeth stained with blood. He kisses your forehead, sighing.

Mark carries you back to the campsite, he cleans you up and tends to his own wound. You both were still bruised and battered, leaves and twigs are tangled in your hair. You feel used and weak, but you love it.

[tangerinesgirl]

Me when my abusive ex rubbed his blood on my face: fuck this shit I'm out 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

Me when Costas Mandylor does it: 🤭🤭🤭

Costas Mandylor in Fist of the North Star (1995)

[tangerinesgirl]

Playing With Fire

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Cw: 18+, smut, pushing Mark’s buttons, thigh humping, teasing, denial, dirty talk, p in v penetration, cockwarming

Description: You push Mark’s buttons until he gives you what you’ve silently been wanting for a while.

-

"Here you go, black coffee with two Splenda." You hand the detective a coffee, he accepts with a smile.

"Thank you, sugar."

You're blushing, you can't help but admire how handsome he is.

Since you started at the Police Department as Mark Hoffman's secretary, you and Mark have been innocently flirting with each other and there has been undeniable sexual tension. You see the way Hoffman looks at you, or he makes little comments to you around the department. You admit that you've tried to get his attention before, by wearing tight fitting sweaters, heels that made your legs look so long, or skirts that were a little too short.

You're at a breaking point, Mark has gotten you so riled up over the last couple of weeks without laying a finger on you. You're too intimidated to make a move on him, you're waiting for the moment the tension reaches a breaking point and he just snaps.

Recently, you and Mark have been spending alot more time together amid the Jigsaw murders. Daniel Erikson has assigned Mark as the lead detective, and he put you in charge of keeping all of the information organized. A lot of that time includes late nights at the office, just the two of you with no one else in the building - it was the perfect opportunity.

You've come close a couple of times, you and Mark would disagree on something or you both would be frustrated when you would get stumped, and when he gets heated he will make sure that you're well aware of what he's saying. Just a few nights ago, you and the Detective hit a wall and all you did was make a simple suggestion and the Detective nearly blew his top.

He was inches away from your face, your eyes were locked and you wanted him to take his anger out on you, you wanted to grab him by the tie and pull him close to you. You didn't, he didn't.

You sit across from Mark in a soft leather chair, you cross your legs. "Tell me, Detective. What does Erikson want to discuss?"

"The team went over the latest game again and found something that we missed on our initial investigation, he thinks that we might be one step closer to catching him." Mark types on his computer, "Did you grab the files I needed from the records room?"

"Yes, I did. I also emailed you with relevant audio files and transcripts from interrogations, interviews, what have you."

"Atta girl." He praises you, and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Mark looks at his computer, his gaze is fixed on the screen.

You tap your pencil on your notebook, anticipating Erikson's phone call. Mark reads information off to you as you write it down.

The Detective is getting into detail about the latest incident regarding Jigsaw. There hasn't been a new game, but Erikson thinks he may have a lead and wants to go over the details of previous games.

You sip your coffee, looking up at the Detective. He's not paying attention to you, he's more focused on his screen. You kick off your heels quietly and scoot your chair a little closer to his desk, he doesn't notice what you're doing.

You trace your foot up his calf, and he kicks you away. He gives you a stern look, he doesn't say anything, but he narrows his eyes at you.

You do it again, and he grabs your ankle, tightly. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Nothing, Detective. I was just stretching out my legs."

"I doubt that." He scoffs. "You're in no position to tease, remember that."

"What're you gonna do about it?"

"I really don't think you want to find out."

It was a challenge, and it excited you in more ways than one. You thought, what could he possibly do? After all, Erikson was about to call. You contemplated for a moment, but you lean forward to make eye contact with Mark and you do it again.

"You know what." He purses his lips with intrigue, "Come here."

You're uncomfortable with how calm he is, you thought for sure that Mark was going to snap and all of the built up tension would melt away. He motions for you to sit on his lap, and you do.

You sit in his lap, facing him. He kisses your neck gently, brushing your hair out of the way. You let out a gasp at the unexpected contact, instinctively arching your body closer to him.

His hands roam over your body, resting in the small of your back. You’re weak under his touch like you’ve turned into jello. "What were you hoping to gain by pushing my buttons?"

"I want you, Mark. I want you to fuck me." You're trembling under his touch, "Let's face it, we've had this thing between us for weeks now and it's driving me insane."

You know you sound desperate, begging for a higher up to fuck you where you stand, but it was sooner or later that one of you would end up breaking.

"You want my cock, baby? Is that what you want?" He hums against your neck, lips grazing over the most sensitive spots. You nod frantically, you press your hips into his thigh.

"Too fucking bad. What you're gonna do is use my thigh, show me how badly you want me to fuck you." He kisses down your collarbones, to your chest. "Then, maybe you can have my cock."

"Mark.." You whine. "Please."

"No. Incase you forgot, I call the shots around here and you're going to take what I give you."

You roll your hips against his thigh, and he praises you with an encouraging "Good girl, nice and slow." Your clothed cunt grinds against his firm thigh, the friction ignited all of your senses.

Mark's hands sneak up to your torso, his hands cup your clothed breasts, massaging them gently as you let out soft little sighs and breathy moans, hips quickening with speed. You duck down to bury their face in the crook of Mark's neck every now and then.

"Does that feel good?" He asks, and you mutter a yes. It does feel good, but you want more."God, look at you. You're so fucking desperate for me to fill you up..."  

Your desperation is fueling his fire, you can see a bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It arouses you more, you want to feel it, taste it, touch it. One hand reaches down to palm him, but before you could make any contact he smacks your hand away.

"You can have my cock whenever I say you can." You whine, but you continue to work your hips against him. He leaves marks on your collarbones and chest as he pulls your tits out of your bra, his fingers pinch the soft bud. 

You feel a coil of heat form in your stomach, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a wet spot on his pants. Mark attacks your lips in a sloppy embrace, you moan against his lips. You hear him unzip his pants,  you look down to see him stroking his cock as you ride his thigh. His hand is wrapped around his girth, and just the sight makes you whine. 

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum. Oh god-" You whisper against his lips, the friction deliciously is stimulating your clit, your legs shake as you get closer to the edge. Your eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, your nails dig into his clothed shoulder. 

"Not yet, I don't think you've earned it babydoll. Stop moving your pretty little hips." He purrs, and you stop your hips. You whine and look at him with desperate eyes, you were so fucking close. Mark moves your hips over slightly, and you feel him move your panties aside with his fingers, he positions the head of his cock against your slick pussy. 

You slowly lower your body onto his cock, biting your bottom lip as he stretches you out.He's so big, he's so thick and the tip of his cock presses firmly against your cervix. 

"That's a good girl, slowly take every inch of it." His hands hold onto your hips tightly, watching as you envelope him, your walls snugly wrapped around him. You moan as you bottom out, you adjust as you lift your hips up. "Uh uh, I didn't say you could move."

"What?"

"Erikson is going to be calling soon, you're going to keep my cock nice and warm as we have our meeting. You got that?" He's balls deep inside of you, you want to feel him move inside of you and most of all, you want to cum around his cock. 

You nod, sucking in a sharp breath. You hear Mark's phone ring, and he picks it up. The phone is placed on speaker. 

"Good afternoon, Erikson." Mark starts, clearing his throat. 

"Afternoon, Detective. Is y/n present?" 

"Yes, I'm here." Your voice cracks as Hoffman thumbs at your clit, watching  with a smirk as you try to maintain your composure. You reach back to grab your notepad and pencil, and the slight movement sent electricity though your body, you fight back a moan. 

"Great, let's get started then." 

The meeting starts, and luckily Hoffman and Erikson do most of the talking. You do your best to focus on taking notes and not making a sound. it proves to be difficult when Hoffman adjusts to reach behind you for a document and his cock shifts inside of you ever so slightly. 

They exchange critical case information. Unfortunately for you, Erikson asks Mark to cover the Jigsaw case from start to finish. At one point, Erikson asked you to weigh in on what strategies they could utilize to find out if there’s a second accomplice.

“Maybe you could...” You lose your train of thought as Mark kisses your neck, “You could cross examine some of the key evidence to older games.”

“Give me some examples, I’m writing this all down.”

“Look at crime scene photos of-“ Your sentence is cut off by a gasp as Mark jerks his hips into you, and he hushes you.

“Is everything all right over there?” Erikson asks, you can tell he’s mildly concerned.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I bumped my coffee cup and it nearly spilled. As I was saying,” You clear your throat. “Examine the photos of the pieces cut from each subject, listen to the tapes and see if you can pick out any differences.”

Erikson goes on to start planning the next steps, and Mark hits the mute button on the telephone. He thrusts up into you again and you cry out.

“Look at you, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?” He taunts you, thumbing at your clit.

“I fucking hate you.” Your voice is breathless.

“Oh really? Well your soaking pussy says otherwise.” God. He’s so cocky and you just want to smack him for it, but you can’t lie, it’s hot.

You try to move your hips again, and he holds them tighter. “Just a little bit longer, and then I’ll make you feel so good.”

Before you can speak, Mark unmutes the phone. Neither of you were paying attention to what Erikson was discussing, but Erikson will send you both something to recap once the meeting is over. He asks Mark if he’s on board with the plan, and he agrees like he knew exactly what Erikson was talking about.

Mark and Erikson soon wrap up their discussion, and Erikson hangs up the phone. Mark waited a second to hear the dial tone to ensure it was disconnected, he wasted no time in standing up and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the sudden movement, and Mark fucks into you, hard.

“Yes! Fuck, please keep going.” You nearly scream with pleasure, you’re so overstimulated at this point that you could cum at any point.

“Do you know hard you make it to keep my hands off you? Walkin’ around here with those little outfits, your fuck me eyes…God, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.” He’s breathless as he pounds into you, his forearms rest beside your head. “It’s really cute that you think you can act all controlling like that, because I know damn well I can leave you shaking under me.”

The sounds of sex fill the room, wet slapping mixed with breathless moans and sounds of pure pleasure. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.“

“Go ahead, cum.” Mark stills his movements, and you thrash around underneath him.

“Fuck you!” You sob, tears of overstimulation spill out of the corners of your eyes. You move your hips desperate for release.

“Play nice, now. Remember, I’m in control.” He growls as he snaps his hips forward, drilling his cock deep into you. You’re so tight around him and wet, he could fuck you all night given the opportunity. “Look at me when I’m making you feel good, baby.”

You lock eyes with the Detective, yours are desperately and pleading. He mumbles a “That’s my good girl.” as he looks at you, his face is flushed and glimmering with sweat.

“If you want to cum then you’re gonna have to beg.” He seems to be loosening up, desperate for his own release.

“Mark, please make me cum. I want to cum all over your cock, it feels so fucking good inside of me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” He pants, “Go ahead honey, cum.”

Suddenly, all of the built up sexual tension and frustration melted away as an orgasm rocked you to your core. Your legs squeeze around Mark and your nails dig into his back, your muscles tremble and tighten as you reach your high.

Mark isn’t far behind you, with a few sloppy thrusts he’s cumming deep inside of you. His eyes close as he throws his head back, his mouth open as he lets out low moans. His warm, sticky load fills you up, spilling out of you slightly as he is still buried inside you. He looks angelic above you, that image of Mark will forever be in your thoughts.

He pulls out of you, panting. His hair is all messed up but you love the sight.

“Now, go make me a fucking coffee.”

[tangerinesgirl]

Quick fanfic update, I'm in the middle of a new Newlon work but holy crap it's being such a slog to write. I've had to plan it out twice already and every time I read what I've written back, I want to crumple it up and yeet it into the sun (I don't recommend this when you're writing on a laptop).

[tangerinesgirl]

Pls write more Hoffman stuff T-T I’ve been reading it repeatedly for the past couple of days along with your Adam stuff. I’m gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. I love your writing <3

𝒞𝑜𝒸𝓀𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀 + 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒽𝓂 ♡

Cw: nsfw . Slight dubcon towards the end, cockwarming, p n v, exhibitionism, daddy kink, age gap, threeway, creampie

A/N: u ask u shall receive 🙏🏻 this is Hoffman & strahm + maybe a lil hint of Daniel Rigg but I’ll be writing more of just Hoffman soon if that’s what u prefer 🩷

The days spent in Mark’s office can either be incredibly boring and painful, or incredibly fun and painful.

And on this day, as his hard cock slides itself inside of you, you decide it’s going to be a fun but painful day— quivering, you let out a small whine as he fills you up in his desk chair. His cock, thick and long, is causing an ache and burn in your core. But how could you care when you’ve been wet for him all day?

Mark is barely paying mind to you; being a detective means having a lot of paperwork, and that he must finish today. But that doesn’t mean he can’t squeeze in a little time for you, right?

“Daddy..” you mumble, adjusting the ends of your skirt. He had just slid right in, with absolutely no warning at all! He was so mean sometimes. Batting your eyelashes, trying to get him to look at you, you add, “Cmon, why do you just fuck me?”

“Quiet.” He grunts. He’s flipping through a page from a case file. Although it’s confidential, he never minds letting you see the cases he works on. You’ve kept worser secrets for him, after all. “Keep yourself occupied, why don’t you?”

Oh, that’s rich coming from the man holding you down on his dick. You pout, crossing your arms across your chest. You purposely squirm on his lap, then. He exhales sharply, as you clench your walls on him.

And just then, a knock sounds.

Your face becomes bright red, and you’re quick to try and get off of Mark’s lap. But he tsks, holding you down with both hands and keeping you in place. Your eyes widen in fear.

“Come in,” Mark states.

And of course, the person who opens the door is Peter Strahm— someone you’ve grown to dislike since you heard him whisper something about the “young piece of ass” Hoffman had laying around in his office every day. You were quite offended by that statement, even though Peter has grown to be— in your opinion— too nice to you.

“Hoffman,” he says, trying to avert his gaze from your flushed face. You pray that he can’t see Mark’s unbuttoned pants and your pussy wrapped around him. “I need to talk to you… alone.”

Mark rolls his eyes, pushing his hips up. Letting out a tiny gasp, you can feel his cock sliding against your walls— and with shame, you try not to pay attention to the way your cunt gets slicker at the thought of Peter catching you being such a whore.

“You can say it here, Strahm.” He pats your hip, ruffling your skirt. “I can assure you, her pretty little head is empty right now.”

You should be offended, but really, you can’t think. Peter’s sleeves are rolled up today, his arms and hands exposed and— fuck, why do you want them to touch you?

“It’s about the Jigsaw case,” Strahm presses. His eyes land on yours again, and he watches the expanse of your legs. Your face flushes furiously, and you feel a drop of slick begin to run down your inner thigh.

Shit.

“And?” Mark teases. “It doesn’t matter to her. What is it?”

“It’s..”

Peter’s eyes are on your tits, your thighs quivering. You bite your lower lip, and you can’t help but let a fuzzy feeling take over you as he watches you.

“Cat got your tongue, Strahm?”

Mark smirks, and when he grabs your hips and pushes you further down on him, you can’t help it— you let out a moan, a desperate and sex crazed moan.

Peter doesn’t even know what to do or say— just stands there, his mouth open and a tent forming in his jeans. Mark continues to bounce you up and down on him.

“No—“ you whimper. “Mark! Peter, ‘m so sorry—“

“Fuck..” Peter whispers.

“You want a piece of her?” Mark chuckles, lifting up your skirt. Your cunt is exposed, all creamy and wet, little clit throbbing. You begin to rock your hips back onto your boyfriends hard length. “She wants you to fuck her. Don’t you, angel?”

You can’t help but nod, watching as Peters hand goes down to palm his crotch. He looks at you with a hungry stare.

Mark lifts you up with his strong arms, getting out of the chair and dragging you to the front of his desk. He slips out of you, pushing your body down onto the hardwood. Your cheek presses against a stack of papers as Mark spreads your legs with one of his feet. He lifts up your skirt, revealing your aching cunt for Peter to see.

“Cmon, Strahm,” Mark urges. “Don’t you wanna fuck her pussy? She’s so tight, so warm…”

And fuck, as wrong as it is Strahm is practically hypnotized by the sight of your gaping hole clenching around nothing. It needs something to fill it so bad, he thinks.

Fuck it. He stalks over, gives Mark a little shove to get out of his way. He unbuckles his belt. Mark begins stroking his cock at the sight of your doe eyes looking up at him. Peter pulls his throbbing length out of his pants, and rubs it up against you. You feel like heaven— and when he pushes into your hole, presses his balls firm against your ass, his eyes almost roll back into his head. It’s been a while since he’s fucked such a young, tight pussy.

“Oh—“

You whine as he pulls out and pushes right back in, incredibly hard. His skin smacks against yours as he begins to pound you against the desk.

Mark, chuckling, pats your cheek with his palm.

“That’s my girl.”

He’s stroking his cock over your face now, and Peter groans and spreads your asscheeks apart to get a better view of you.

“Been keepin’ this sweet thing from me all this time, Hoffman?”

His differences with the other man seemed to be forgotten because of your warm, wet cunt.

“Would’ve let you fuck her sooner if you weren’t such a prick.” Mark replies, and grunts when the tip of his cock hits your lips. “Don’t cum inside her. That’s something only I can do.”

Strahm huffs, displeased, but doesn’t say anything. He listens to your whimpers and moans. His mouth begins running, spewing harsh words to you as his cock moves in and out of your slick folds.

“Such a slutty little girl.”

“God, baby, are all the men you fuck always twice your age?”

“Knew you were a filthy whore the moment I saw you walk into big man’s office. Shit, yeah, clench like that again, bitch.”

Although Mark should be angry at these remarks, he knows it’s just a way to break you down on Strahm’s cock. He knows that you love being degraded and used.

It’s not long before Mark’s length fills your mouth, and as you swallow him down your throat Peter begins to rub your clit in harsh circles. Choking on Mark’s cock and squeezing your walls around Peter, your orgasm washes over you in harsh waves. You spasm against the both of them, your release dripping onto Peter’s thighs.

Peter is close, too, and he can feel it. Pulling himself out of you is probably the hardest thing he’s ever forced himself to do— and this even includes when he had to stick a metal straw in his neck because he almost drowned to death. He rubs himself against your lower back, letting out a small, “fuck yes, baby, such a good whore for daddy,” As he spills thick ropes all over the tramp stamp adorning your skin. He relaxes against you for a moment, then pulls away and tucks himself back into his pants. He nods at mark, then murmurs a small, “thanks, honey.” To you as he approaches the door and makes his way out. Mark pulls himself out of your mouth and makes his way over to your quivering form.

“Okay?” He murmurs softly.

You nod, head empty and hole clenching as Mark lines himself up. Much thicker than Strahm, he adds a harsh sting to the mix of your overstimulated cunt once again. He thrusts in and out of you at a harsh pace, his cock practically ripping you in half as it pummels your guts. You can feel that neediness coming back, that urge to cream all over a cock again.

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl. “Please. Please, I need it..”

“Yeah?” He says harshly. His fingers dip into your hips, watching the puddle of cum forming at the base of your lower back. “What if I called the whole office in here, huh? Two cocks not enough for this greedy cunt? Maybe you need to be smothered by another detectives pussy. Maybe you need another fat cock to split you in half…”

And Jesus, Mark’s filthy fucking mouth has you squirming and aching for another orgasm. He grabs your throat with one of his strong hands, bending your body back towards him. Strahm’s spend leaks down in between your ass cheeks and smears all over Mark’s lower stomach, leaving white strings stuck between your body and his, but he doesn’t care. Chasing his release, the mess adds to the amount of pleasure coursing through him.

Your fingers move up to hold onto his hand, as a way to loosen his grip. But you know he won’t let up— once Mark is set on a brutal pace with you, he always has to have his hands around your neck. His cock is bruising, kissing your cervix in just the right way and —

Oh.

Your eyes now, have averted to the office window. A breath of air leaves you as you realize that the blinds, ever always closed, are now open.

You try to get Mark’s attention— try to find a way to get him to let up so the window can be covered again. Thankfully, no one has walked by. It’s an empty hallway. But anyone could be willing…

“Mark,” you wheeze. His eyes flit to where you’re eyes are focused. To your surprise, the man doesn’t stop fucking you— in fact, his thrusts only seem to increase. His smell evades your senses, all cologne and herbal soap and laundry detergent, and you feel fucking dizzy.

And then, a shadow crosses that hallway. A familiar figure, with a stack of papers in his hands.

Daniel Rigg.

There, walking right across the office window. Noticing movement out of the corner of his eye, his body freezes midway, and he turns to look at the both of you.

Eyes filling with tears , you can’t do anything but take Mark’s cock and watch the man. And slowly, you recounted that you hadn’t seen Strahm when he had left the room— hadn’t seen him pull on the string of the blinds. Hadn’t seen Mark’s small smirk when he saw them being opened.

“Looks like we have an audience.” Mark teases.

You notice the tent forming in Detective Rigg’s pants, and your eyes flit down. He begins to stutter on his movements, and the papers in his hand drop to the ground. He shuffles, quickly picking them back up. And, with embarrassment and an urge to stroke his now hard cock, he begins to walk, fast, away from the scene.

Those motherfuckers.

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[tangerinesgirl]

will you write any more john carver/newlon smut?🤭also i have the worst memory im so sorry if i sent another ask before this😭

I really hope I do, I'm still very much in Newlon brain rot mode. I'm also up for ideas! I just write when things come to me 🥰

[tangerinesgirl]

Traps || A Mark Hoffman x f!reader SMUT

Summary: Mark Hoffman and (Y/N) hate each other , but what happens when tinkering on traps in the same workshop leads leads to spicy tension?

Warnings: NSFW, hate sex, degrading/explicit language, only one partner being fully nude , Mark Hoffman’s temper

Note: Hello my fellow Big Bad Hoffman enthusiasts, this is my very first smut piece (as in ever) and I really hope it’s not too bad. I’ve read over it a couple of times and hope there aren’t any major mistakes.

Have fun reading ✨

“What do you want?” the deep grumble of Mark Hoffman’s voice vibrates through the room of the warehouse, as (Y/N) enters the room. “Certainly nothing from you.” She rolls her eyes, already annoyed by the man’s presence, as she walks over to the shelves across the table that Hoffman is working at. “I was in the middle of something important.” the man grumbles, looking up from the contraption he was currently tinkering on. She huffs, ignoring the man as she roams through the shelf in front of her. “Have you seen my blueprints anywhere?” Not lifting his gaze from the piece of metal he was currently securing, he gestures to the shelves. “Check your bloody work area. I’m not your secretary.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman pauses her movements. “You know, if you’d answer me like a fucking decent human being, I’d be out of your way much quicker.” (Y/N) grumbles, shoving a box of scrap metal aside.

A few moments pass, before (Y/N) spots her blueprints on the very top of the shelf, leading her to mutter a string of curse words under her breath. The young woman turns around, pointing to the chair next to Hoffman. “Do you need that?” Mark pauses for a moment and shrugs his shoulders before he mutters a simple “Suit yourself.” Stepping over to the table, she wordlessly grabs the chair and drags it back to the shelf before climbing onto it in order to reach for her blueprints. “I’m gonna kill whoever put those up here,” she mutters, struggling to pull one of the prints out from underneath a box. A spark of amusement twinkles in Mark’s otherwise deadpan expression as he watches his fellow apprentice struggling to get what she wants. Cold, hungry eyes travelling up and down her body as she stretches to reach the blueprints, Hoffman suddenly finds himself grateful for whoever has moved her stuff to the top shelf, enjoying the view in front of him.

Feeling his gaze on her (Y/N) looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at the man, before turning back around and opening one of the blueprints in order to inspect it. Hoffman decides to wait a moment before speaking in a mocking tone “Your temper is rather volatile.” Keeping her focus on the blueprint she murmurs “Thanks asshole.” “No problem, love.” the detective replies in a snarky tone, before picking up his tools again to continue working on his trap.

Ignoring the man and the feeling caused by the petname, she steps down from the chair, spreading the prints on top of the table to get a better overview of them. God, she couldn’t stand Mark Hoffman.

“You know, “ his voice interrupts the silence “It’s rude to ignore someone.” Looking up from her blueprint of a hand-trap, she meets Mark’s arrogant, smug expression. “Rude? No. Actually ignoring you is a really REALLY blissful experience.” she hums. “Is that so?” the mocking tone in his voice is as prominent as ever “Is it also a blissful experience being a fucking brat all the time?” he snarks.

“I don’t know, tell me about it.” (Y/N) shrugs nonchalantly, grabbing a pen to make some corrective notes on her design. “You’re an insufferable bitch. Maybe Kramer will realise that and kill you off first.” The detective snarks back at her.

“I hope your death will be swift and painful,” he remarks to himself under his breath. “Oh, believe me” (Y/N) retorts as she gathers some mechanical pieces from the shelf behind her. “Nothing could ever be more painful than having to share a workspace with you.” Mark Hoffman’s eyes watch the young woman like a wolf hunting for prey, his fist clenching around the screwdriver in his hand, as his frustration with her builds up. “God you’re infuriating…” He continues working on his contraption and mutters something. “...annoying little slut” being the only words she catches.

Tired of the man’s antics, (Y/N) slams her equipment down onto the table, looking over at Hoffman with fury burning in her eyes. “You're unbelievable, you know that?" (Y/N) seethes, gaze burning into Mark Hoffman's figure. "You can't just go around hurling insults like that and expect me to take it lying down." Hoffman meets her gaze with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Oh, I'm well aware of what I can and can't do," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "But it's not like you make it easy to get along with you, behaving like such a bitch all the time."(Y/N) takes a deep breath, trying to calm her rising anger. She knows that she should just ignore him, focus on her work, and get through this collaboration without any more unnecessary drama. But something about Detective Mark Hoffman just gets under her skin like no one else.

"Look," she says, her tone somewhat calmer but still laced with irritation, "we're stuck here together, whether we like it or not. We both work for Kramer and in doing so we have somewhat of a mutual understanding. Can we at least try and be somewhat civil, so he doesn’t come for our heads?"

Hoffman seems to consider her words for a moment, and then he lets out a begrudging sigh. "Fine," he mutters, finally releasing the screwdriver he'd been clutching. "I suggest you start working on your trap. I don’t want to be around you for much longer." (Y/N) smirks, satisfied that she's at least made a small dent in his armour of arrogance. "Likewise," she replies, turning back to her blueprint and resuming her work. As the tension between the two persists, the air in the dimly lit workshop crackles with a strange energy.

Their exchanges alternate between moments of begrudging cooperation and stinging sarcasm. The attraction they feel toward each other simmers just below the surface, an unspoken truth neither is willing to acknowledge. However, the more they try to fight it, the more it intensifies. It's a dangerous game they're playing, one that could lead to unforeseen consequences.

Hours pass, and the traps they've been designing near completion. Hoffman’s rugged confidence and the air of danger that surrounds him ignite a forbidden curiosity in (Y/N). She can’t help but steal glances at him when she thinks he’s not looking, admiring the way his muscles flex as he handles the tools. His hands move with precision as he assembles the final components, and for a brief moment, she finds herself captivated by his expertise. She despises herself for being attracted to someone so incredibly insufferable.

Hoffman, on the other hand, can't deny the way (Y/N)'s dedication to her work is both impressive and alluring. He's never met anyone who can infuriate him to this extent yet simultaneously arouse his curiosity. Her intelligence and determination draw him in, even as her stubbornness drives him mad, it awakens something deep inside him, something he thought he’d buried long ago. He’s drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Putting the tools in his hands back into the tool box with a loud clang, Hoffman suddenly leans over the table, his voice low and dangerously close to (Y/N)’s ear as he examines her contraption. “You know,” he begins, the low rumble of his voice and the feeling of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine, “you have a way of pushing people’s buttons.”

(Y/N) grits her teeth, trying to ignore the effect his proximity has on her. “I could say the same about you.” she retorts, her voice equally low. Hoffman smirks at that. “I find this never-ending game of cat and mouse rather….exciting.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes. (Y/N) scoffs but can’t deny the truth in his words. “Exciting, huh?” she raises her brow “More like infuriating.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching” he whispers, voice laced with arrogance, lips dangerously close to her ear. “Yeah keep dreaming, Hoffman.” she glares at him, eyes filled with anger and something else she refuses to admit. “This is ridiculous,” Hoffman mutters, this time with a different tone in his voice.

Before (Y/N) can ask what he means, Mark has rounded the table in a sudden urgency, yanking her head towards him by the neck and slamming his lips onto hers in a heated kiss. (Y/N) responds instinctively, her anger melting into desire as their mouths battle for dominance that neither is willing to concede. (Y/N) can feel the edge of the table pressing into her back as Mark traps her beneath his body, making her bend backwards onto the cold metal. The sheer sight of her body trapped beneath his seems to fuel Hoffman’s desire even further, a dark look of hunger in his gaze, as his hand grabs her throat, roughly pushing her down onto the table. His eyes focusing on her chest, as her breasts bounce with the movement. A surprised moan escapes her mouth at the action, her back arching as it gets pressed into the cold metal, making Hoffman’s eyes snap back up at her. “Fuck, you look so good with my hand around your throat.” the dangerously low grumble of his voice making her feel the heat pool in her abdomen, leading her to clench her thighs together. Noticing her arousal Hoffman squeezes her throat a little tighter, whilst his other hand sneaks under her shirt, groping at her breast. “God, you’re such a filthy slut. Coming in here in those tight clothes , showing your curves off to me like an attention whore.” Hoffman’s hand yanks (Y/N)’s shirt up, a low, animalistic grunt leaving his throat as he sees her nipples stiffening through her bra.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” (Y/N) smirks, seeing his the outline of his erection through his pants, she decides to play a dangerous game. Opening her mouth and lowering her jaw a little, she lets her tongue trace over the thumb resting on her jawline as Hoffman’s is still gripping her throat, before sucking on it gently, all the while looking up at him through her lashes. “Fuck.” the detective grunts as his dark gaze watches her mesmerized. Noticing Hoffman’s mesmerized state, (Y/N) dares to make her move, fingers travelling up and down his hand which had previously groped her breast, before swiftly yanking it to the side.

The metallic click echoing through the room, breaks Hoffman out of his daze, furious eyes snapping to his right hand which he now finds to be locked into the trap, (Y/N) had been working on all night long. “You fucking bitch.” he bellows, voice seething with fury. “I’ve decided it’s my turn now” she smirks at the man, sitting up on the table. “Don’t worry.” her voice is low and seductive as she whispers into Hoffman’s ear. “I don’t think it’s fully functioning yet.” she playfully bites his earlobe, before pushing him backwards into the chair behind him. “Your a worthless brat.” he hisses, his free hand trying to pull the other out of the glove-like metal contraption,on the table.

“Hmm.” (Y/N) hums , taking off her shirt painfully slow “Does big bad Hoffman suddenly not like to play games anymore?” Her hand wanders up the trapped arm, before wandering to his chest, as she gets off of the table and straddles the detective’s lap. “And here I thought we were finally having fun working together.” She purposefully rocks her hips, feeling his hardened cock underneath her. Another low growl leaves Hoffman, as his free hand grabs a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back before attacking her exposed neck with his mouth.Sloppy kisses trailing up and down the soft flesh. He singlehandedly opens her bra with expertise, ripping the garment off her body. “I fucking hate you, little brat.” Mark snarls , hungrily sucking one of her breasts into his mouth, twirling her nipple with his tongue, whilst his free arm encircles her waist, holding her against him. “You’re such a bastard, Mark Hoffman.” she moans, hand gripping his hair, as she presses his face further into her chest. With her other hand (Y/N) reaches down to unbuckle his belt, earning a bite from the man.

"Bastard" she repeats again, trying to sound angry but failing miserably as arousal floods her body. She bites her lip as her hand slides into his pants, feeling the size of his erection. Pulling her body from his hungry mouth, (Y/N) slides from his lap, positioning herself on her knees between his legs. Her mouth already watering at the thought of what she is about to do. (Y/N) looks up at Mark’s eyes and smirks, taking control. Slowly, she moves closer, licking and kissing her way down his throbbing shaft. Each gentle touch sending vibrations through her body. As she takes him deeper into her mouth, Mark groans loudly, unable to hold back. His hand clenching the back of her head, desperately wanting more.”Why don’t you use those perfect tits of yours?” Mark grunts out between pants, pulling (Y/N)’s head back a little to look her in the eyes, before his intense gaze follows the string of salvia, running down from her swollen lips onto her chin. Enjoying the feeling of dominance over the detective, (Y/N) doesn't allow him to take over though, pulling out of his grasp suddenly. Leaving him on edge.

“You don’t always get everything you want.” she purrs, leaning back in to lick the length of his erection in a painfully slow manner.

When suddenly Hoffman’s hand forcefully grips her hair again, yanking her head back once more. Mark’s voice is dangerously low as he speaks, leaning down towards her “See, this is where you’re wrong, princess.” The name leaves his mouth in a threatening hiss when suddenly he pulls his trapped hand free and yanks (Y/N) upwards. He had figured out how to escape the trap way earlier, but the sight of his competitor taking him into her mouth tempted him to hang on and play pretend for just a little longer. Enjoying the sight of her trying to dominate him. “Seems as if that little trap of yours does indeed still need improvements. If you behave like a good girl, I might teach you a trick or two.” The detective’s arrogant gaze shamelessly travels up and down her body.

“And why would I behave like a good girl for you?” (Y/N)’s snarl is mixed with arousal as she glares back up at him, feeling the increasing wetness between her thighs as Mark’s eyes roam her naked form. “Because, “ the man shoves a hand between her legs, calloused fingers pushing her panties aside and boldly slipping into her entrance, making the woman let out a strangled moan, “I always get what I want.” he states matter-of-factly, pulling his fingers out of her and examining them. “God, look how fucking wet you are already. You’re such a whore.”

Before (Y/N) can open her mouth for a witty comeback, the detective has already

spun her around and bent over the table. Pinning her wrists on the small of her back. Hoffman wastes no time as he rips her panties off, lining his cock up with her entrance without hesitation. (Y/N)’s breath becomes shaky as she arches her back and pushes her ass up in anticipation, her tits pressing further into the cold metal table. His tip shortly teases her entrance, before he forcefully slams into her. “Fuck, Marks-” she blurts before a filthy moan interrupts her own phrase, as Mark fully pulls out of her dripping cunt only to roughly plunge into her again. All control leaves Mark's body when he hears his name coming from her lips over the wet sounds of her pussy and her lustful moans. His hips slam into hers, and the sound of skin hitting skin fills the cold, dimly lit workshop.

"You always come here thinking you're better than I am or that you can play games with me, but now look at you letting me fuck you completely exposed on a table and not even being able to form coherent sentences because you've never been fucked by a man's cock like you are by mine.” Hoffman's voice sounds almost animalistic next to her ear as he presses into her back, groaning against her skin. (Y/N)’s eyes roll back as her walls flutter around his cock in response to his words, she finds herself at a complete loss for words, overwhelmed and almost drooling by the sensation of the detective burring himself balls-deep into her dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Mark rasps out, beads of sweat rolling down his temples “Do you know how many times I’ve fucked myself to the thought of seeing you all desperate for me like this?”

(Y/N) whimpers as she pushes her hips back into him, enticing another lewd groan from Hoffman. He was still hunched over her back, grunting near her ear, as his cock hits all the deepest spots inside her. “Make me cum, Hoffman.” she breathes, the friction in her cunt becoming almost unbearable. “Only because you behaved so well, princess.” Hoffman husks, straightening himself, his thrusts picking up in pace. “Oh fuck Mark!” (Y/N) cries out in loud ecstasy, her jaw almost going slack as her climax takes over, eyes rolling to the back of her head and knees almost buckling as her body spasms and she continues to moan in sheer pleasure. Mark makes a strangled sound, the sight of (Y/N) cumming with him inside her making his cock throb.

His hand rears back slapping her ass, as her sensitive cunt clenches around him. He keeps ramming into her mercilessly as she rides out her high, murmuring incoherent slurs behind gritted teeth. (Y/N) was sure that her upper body would leave an imprint on the metal table if Mark kept up the force of his thrusts any longer. With a primal grunt and stuttered breath, the detective reaches his climax, thrusts becoming more sloppy as he releases inside her.

For a moment both of them are silently trying to catch their breath before Mark pulls out of (Y/N), smirking at the sight of his cum dripping down her thighs.

The sound of a zipper and belt buckle snaps (Y/N) out of their dizzy state. She straightens up, her eyes wandering over the sweaty print left on the table as a testament to Hoffman's and her little escapade.

Collecting her clothes, she turns to Mark as she begins to dress herself. “This changes nothing.” The man raises a brow at her. “I still hate you.” she states, grabbing a piece of cloth from the shelf behind him to wipe down the table.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from a brat like you.” Mark answers nonchalantly as he pulls a screwdriver from the toolbox "Now let me show you how to improve that pathetic trap of yours."

(Y/N) couldn't help but smirk at Mark's retort. As Mark began to work on the trap, he explained his modifications in detail, his hands deftly moving as he made adjustments. The woman watched him intently, despite her attempts to maintain an air of indifference. She couldn’t deny that their rivalry had a strange way of bringing them together.

[tangerinesgirl]

Sleepy

Fandom: “Saw”

Pairing: Dom! Mark Hoffman x bimbo! Reader

Synopsis: On Friday nights, Mark comes to your apartment.

Cw: established relationship, age gap, nsfw . Rough sex, spanking, oral (m recieving), anal fingering (f recieving), creampie, cum play, breeding

It starts innocent— Mark, your beautiful and slightly sadistic hard working boyfriend, slides under your ruffled pink sheets. Although you haven’t moved in with each other quite yet, it’s not uncommon for the man to let himself inside your apartment on friday evenings. Cool air against the bare skin of your ankles gives way to Mark’s warm touch, his big hands wrapping around your calves, stroking the soft muscle there. Your eyes flutter at the sensation. You had fallen asleep waiting up for him, but you could recognize his touch even in slumber.

“Mark?” You murmur. Your sleepy eyes look up at him with a doe expression, and Mark thinks you’re completely gorgeous like this.

“Mhm.”

You lift yourself up, smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck. His smell— cologne, laundry detergent, a scent of something herbal— invades your senses. You breathe it in gratefully, thankful that Mark has come home safe and unharmed. Fingers in his hair, you pull him on top of you. A small chuckle emits from the man’s chest, his hand going down to your waist and his other wrapping around your neck in a sort of non threatening chokehold. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip. You nick at it teasingly with the tip of your tongue.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart.” Mark coos. You push up against him, the pink two piece pajama set adorning your body rubbing against the fabric of his pants. He lets out a little breath when your hand moves against the outline of his cock.

“Missed you, daddy.”

“You talkin’ to me?” He says, as his fingers dip into the waistband of your juicy couture shorts. “Or are you talkin’ to my dick?”

“Both.”

His fingers rub up against your slit, the wetness seeping through your pretty pink thong. At the feeling of the fabric touching his fingertips Marks out a growl.

“Were you waiting up for me?”

A nod. And then, spilling roughly from his lips, “Naughty fucking girl.”

His mouth crashes to yours, hot and heavy and aching with lust. It’s been only a few days since he’s saw you, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to pummel your guts like it’s been a year.

Your tongue slips into his mouth eagerly, feeling up the whites of his teeth. His fingers rub harsh circles into your clit and your hands go to the sleeves of his work suit.

“Off,” you whine to him. “Want all your clothes off.”

“I know, honey, I know.” he chants, as you thrust against the hardening bulge in between his legs. He slips off his coat, then begins to undo his tie. His chest is exposed to you as he unbuttons his shirt. Beautiful and muscled, with a bit of softness along the bottom of his tummy, he’s the most perfect man you’ve ever seen.

You bring yourself up to kiss his chest— then his shoulders, his pecks, grazing along his nipples and nibbling softly, making him let out a heavy groan. Then you move down to his lower belly and nuzzle your face into the skin there.

“Enjoying yourself?” Mark muses, as you wrap your arms around his waist. You’ve missed him so much.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply sweetly. You toy with his belt for a moment, rubbing your thumbs against the buckle. “Wanna suck you…”

“Get to it then, angel.”

Hands grasping the leather, you pull it from the loops. His pants button comes undone next, and then the zipper. The tight black briefs are now the only thing keeping you from your most prized possession.

You lean down and nuzzle your face against him again, only now on his thighs. He’s so hard, practically throbbing as he watches your eyelashes flutter shut and your mouth run over his aching, clothed shaft. Drool practically leaks out of the corners of your mouth as you taste him through the fabric. You look up to see Mark’s bottom lip caught between his teeth, his eyes looking down at you with a predatory stare.

Your fingers grip his waistband. You pull it down until his aching prick springs free, slapping against his stomach and dripping with arousal. You take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He groans, heavy, balls clenching up. He has so much cum to give your sweet cunt.

“Good girl, baby,” he praises, when you sink your lips down to his base. You choke a bit, but that doesn’t stop you from going so far down that the dark hair at his base is used as a pillow for your nose and lips. He always asks if it bothers you, and it doesn’t. Quite the contrary, in fact. You breathe him in and something deep and primal stabs into your guts— much like his girthy length. You move up and down, up and down, making sure to palm what you can’t take in your small hands, making sure to make the man you practically devote yourself to feel the best he can possibly feel.

And by the sounds he’s making, you seem to be doing a good job. Grunts, groans, and the occasional whimper escape from Mark’s plump lips, his head throwing itself back in ecstasy.

You can tell he’s close by the way his thighs begin to shake and quiver. You pull off of him, quick to leave one more little kiss to his cock before kissing him harshly on the mouth once again. He groans into you, grabbing your hair with a harsh grip. He turns your body over and pulls your ass up to him. Too impatient, he decides to just pull your shorts down and push your panties to the side. He slaps his cock against your clit, once, twice, making you mewl.

“Whose pussy is this?” He asks gruffly. You cry out, cunt trying to suck the tip of him as it runs along your seam.

“Yours, daddy,” you whimper. “It’s all yours. Fuck it, please, need your fat cock so bad, daddy…”

Mark lets out an animalistic noise, slowly but heavily sliding himself inside your tight snatch. It’s always hard for you to take him, his cock being so large and all, but your arousal lubricates him perfectly. And when he looks down it takes everything in him not to tear you open right then and there. Your cute little cunt, all spread out on his big dick, pussy lips wrapped tightly around him, clit bulging and throbbing.

“You’re a dream,” Mark growls. You clench around him, his voice and smell making your brain hazy. “A goddamn dream— fuck, you little slut.”

He begins to fuck into you, holding your thong to the side and watching the way your behind jiggles with every thrust. Hitting his thighs over and over, he’s hypnotized by the fat of your ass. The creamy sounds of your pussy, along with smacking sounds, is quite loud throughout the room. Mark grabs your hair and yanks you up so your back arches more. Squealing, you grab his hands in an attempt to loosen his grip. But knowing how brash the man can be, you know he won’t let up anytime soon.

“Just like that,” he grunts against the shell of your ear. “Daddy’s little girl is so pretty, isn’t she? Couldn’t wait for his cock to fill you up, huh? Couldn’t wait for his load all in your guts?”

You try to nod, but all that comes out is a desperate and loud moan.

“It’s so good! Yes, need it harder, need more..” you cry. Mark chuckles, dark— he knows exactly what you’re asking for. His hand comes down to your ass, and he gives it a light smack as if to tease what’s about to come. You grind back, trying to get his hands back on you again. “Please daddy!”

He slows. Brings his hand up. It comes down hard— as if all his frustrations and anger come out into one particular spank. You cry out desperately, but your pussy quakes. Fuck, it feels good to be hit by him. And when it comes down again, and again, and again, your orgasm draws even more closer. He begins to pound you like you’re a worthless sex doll used for his own pleasure. He pounds you like you’re a desperate whore who’s on her deathbed for some cock— and in a way, you are. It’s not long before his strong hands are ripping the shorts and panties away from you. How he has the strength to cause such a rip in the fabric, you don’t know. He presses your back against his chest and rips your tank top down your chest. Your tits are exposed, nipples puffy and swollen.

“Slutty fuckin’ tits,” he huffs out, tweaking a nipple in between his fingers. Your eyes roll back, and he smacks the pebbled buds harshly. “Slutty little cunt… slutty little ass—“

His thumb plays with your puckered hole, and you gasp when he spits down into the seam of your ass. Lubricating it, he slides his thumb in. The burn of the stretch hurts but it’s not unbearable.

“Yeah, dirty bitch,” Mark’s gasping, hot, bringing his lips to yours and clashing the both of your teeth together. “Love having that little asshole played with…god, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

You nod, pushing back, clenching.

“Give it to me, daddy! Fill my hole up with your cum, it needs you, needs your fucking cum—“

And with a ferocious yell and one last thrust, he spills balls deep inside your pussy. Fucking himself through his orgasm, his cum seeps out the edges of your dripping seam. His fingers come down to your clit, his thrusts weak and his cock overstimulated, but he’s desperate to make you cum. A few circles rubbing into your swollen button is all it takes for you to scream and finally hit your peak. Your vision goes white, your ears ringing, and you swear your body dies and goes to heaven for a moment.

Warm and filled and used, you rest there for a moment with Mark. Just basking in the afterglow, in the feeling of him inside you. After a while, he speaks.

“You okay?” He asks. You nod, a dazed smile forming on your lips.

“Never better.”

He pulls out of you slowly. Watching his cum gush out of you and run down your legs almost makes him hard again, and he presses a finger into the puddle of creamy spend dripping out of you.

“Push it all out.” He states, dark. “Let me fucking see it.”

You do, making sure to let all of it drip out as much as you can. He came a lot, and your pussy is practically overflowing with his seed. You scoop up some with your finger, licking it all up and looking behind at your boyfriend with glazed eyes. He watches, hypnotized by your lips wrapping around the white substance.

“That’s my girl.” He says. “My good little girl.”

And you know you are.