Hiii im in love with ur mark hoffman fics <3 would u be willing to take a request for m!detective!reader x mark where reader sends nudes to mark during their day off while mark is working? Its ok if not no pressure!!
Mark Hoffman x Detetive male reader
Warnings⚠️ Phone sex, accidental flashing? Nudes, masturbating, degrading, being called a slut, smut.⚠️
I’m genuinely sorry for posting this so late😭 I wish I could just get on my knees and apologize a million times for posting this so late.
You two tolerated each other. You guys weren't friends; you didn't hang out after work and rarely texted unless it was work-related. So how the hell did you end up sending him a nude picture?
After weeks of nonstop working, you finally had enough and told Mark and a few other coworkers that you're taking the next few days off. You refused to work since Halloween was coming up and you needed a desperate break. Mark had a bit of a snarky attitude about it but brushed you off about it.
You finally had a day off. You caught up with the chores around your house—cleaning, laundry, the usual. It was a short distraction because soon enough you found yourself bored, flipping through shows and mindlessly scrolling.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you stripped out of your clothes and let your hands wander. You played with your nipples, twisting and pulling them until they hardened under your fingers. Your other hand trailed lower, past your stomach, wrapping around your growing cock. Your body arched into your own touch, a low groan slipping from your throat as pleasure sparked through you.
You lay back fully, legs spreading a little as you started to stroke yourself properly—slow, firm pulls that had your breath hitching. The room felt hotter, your skin tingling. In the dizzy haze of it all, you grabbed your phone, opened the camera, and angled it down. The flash went off once, capturing everything: your flushed chest, hard nipples, leaking cock heavy in your fist, thighs parted.
Still riding the high, you opened your messages and tapped the photo. Your thumb hovered for half a second before you hit send, mind already drifting to the filthy replies you’d get from your usual fling.
You dropped the phone onto the sheets with a soft, breathless laugh and kept stroking, hips rolling up into your hand. Soft, heavy moans filled the quiet room as you pumped faster, imagining exactly what your fling would say—how they’d tease you, tell you how good you looked, maybe even describe what they’d do if they were there.
The bed vibrated once.
Then again.
You didn’t even glance at it right away, too lost in the slick sound of your hand and the building pressure in your gut. Only when the third buzz cut through the fog did you pause, chest heaving, and reach for the phone with your clean hand.
Your heart slammed to a stop.
Mark Hoffman.
The name sat at the top of the chat like a bucket of ice water dumped straight over your head.
Before you could even process it, the screen lit up with an incoming call.
Mark Hoffman.
Your thumb hovered, trembling. For one insane second you thought about declining and pretending none of this ever happened. But the phone kept ringing, insistent, and your cock gave a traitorous twitch in your fist.
You answered.
There was a beat of silence. Then his voice—low, rough, and dangerously calm—filled your ear.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Detective.”
Your breath caught. “Mark—I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up.” The command was sharp, cutting you off instantly. “You send me a picture of your cock like some desperate slut and now you want to play innocent? I’m sitting here in the middle of the precinct, paperwork piled up, and my partner’s dick is staring back at me from my phone. You think that’s funny?”
Heat flooded your face, but it went straight to your groin. Your hand gave an involuntary squeeze around your shaft and you had to bite back a whimper.
“I’m sorry,” you managed, voice already shaky.
“Sorry?” Mark laughed, dark and low. “You’re not sorry. Look at you—still breathing like you’re two strokes away from blowing your load. Bet you didn’t even stop touching yourself when you saw my name pop up, did you?”
You swallowed hard. The truth was humiliating.
“…No.”
“That’s what I thought.” His tone dropped even lower, velvet over steel. “Keep stroking. Slow. I want to hear every filthy sound.”
Your hand started moving again before your brain could catch up—long, dragging strokes that made the slick head of your cock glisten. A soft, broken moan slipped out.
Mark hummed in approval. “There it is. Listen to you. Moaning like a whore just because I told you to. You really are pathetic, aren’t you? Sending nudes to your own partner on your day off because you’re too fucking horny to behave.”
“Mark—” Your voice cracked.
“Shut your mouth and listen,” he growled. “You’re going to keep that pretty hand moving exactly how I say. Nice and slow. Squeeze the head on every upstroke. Yeah—just like that. I can hear how wet you are already. Leaking all over yourself like a desperate little slut who can’t even wait for someone to fuck him properly.”
Your hips jerked up into your fist, a louder moan tearing free.
“Pathetic,” Mark continued, voice steady even though you could hear the faint creak of his chair in the background, like he was leaning back to enjoy this. “My partner—supposed to be a professional—lying naked on his bed, jerking his cock because he accidentally sent me a picture of it. What would the rest of the department say if they knew their precious detective was such a needy cockslut?”
“Fuck—Mark, please—”
“Please what?” he mocked. “Please degrade you more? Please tell you how fucking disgusting you look right now? Because you do. Face all flushed, nipples hard, cock dripping down your fingers. I bet you’re spreading your legs wider just hoping I’ll keep talking. Aren’t you?”
You whimpered, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “Yes—yes, I am—”
“Good boy. Such an honest little whore.” His voice dipped, rougher now. “Speed up. I want you right on the edge. Pump that cock faster but do not come. You hear me? You don’t get to cum until I say so.”
Your hand obeyed instantly, strokes turning frantic. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room and you knew he could hear every single one.
“That’s it. Fuck your fist like the desperate slut you are. Imagine it’s my hand instead—except I wouldn’t be so nice. I’d edge you until you’re crying, begging me to let you shoot all over yourself like the pathetic mess you are.”
A broken sob of pleasure left your throat. Your thighs were trembling, balls drawn tight, every muscle coiled.
“Mark—Mark, I’m so close—please—”
“No.” The single word was merciless. “You hold it. You sent me that picture, you stupid fucking tease. Now you’re going to suffer for it. Tell me how bad you need to cum.”
“I need it—fuck, I need it so bad,” you gasped, voice wrecked. “Please, Mark, I’m leaking everywhere, my cock’s throbbing—please let me come—”
He chuckled, dark and satisfied. “Beg prettier.”
“Please, sir—please, I’m your pathetic little slut, I’ll do anything—just let me cum, I can’t—fuck—I can’t hold it—”
There was a long, agonizing pause. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, hand still flying over your slick cock, teetering right on the brink.
Then, finally, his voice came through like a command from on high.
“Cum. Now. Make a fucking mess for me.”
The orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision whited out. Your back arched violently off the bed, a loud, guttural moan ripping from your chest as thick ropes of cum painted your stomach, chest, even up to your collarbone. You kept stroking through it, milking every last pulse while Mark listened to every broken sound you made.
When the pleasure finally ebbed into oversensitive tremors, you collapsed back against the sheets, panting harshly into the phone.
Mark’s voice returned, low and smug.
“Good boy. Look at that—you actually listened for once.”
You let out a weak, breathless laugh, still floating. “Jesus Christ, Hoffman…”
“Clean yourself up, Detective. And next time you’re bored on your day off…” He paused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make your spent cock twitch again. “You call me first. Understand?”
Your voice came out hoarse but obedient.
“Yes, sir.”
Mark hummed, pleased. “That’s what I like to hear. Now get some rest. You’re gonna need it when you come back to work tomorrow.”
The line went dead.
You stared at the ceiling, chest still heaving, cum cooling on your skin, and a stupid, satisfied smile slowly spreading across your face.
Maybe taking a day off hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.
Since you said you could write for male! Reader,I have a request. Maybe slashers reacting to their boyfriend coming home crying because someone was homophobic to them? (If you write for trans reader too,maybe you could make the reader ftm (female to male) and the comments were transphobic and homophobic,but that's up to you.) It could be his parents being homophobic,if you're comfortable with that,or just someone else they know or don't. Whatever you feel comfortable writing. I'm asking this mostly because I have homophobic and transphobic parents and I'm a trans man,so I love some good old hurt/comfort. Sorry if this made you uncomfortable in any way and feel free to ignore it if you want. Platonic kisses and hugs from me,I hope you have a lovely day/night!!!!
Slashers dating and comforting a ftm reader ᯓᡣ𐭩
includes : Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair & Amanda Young with ftm!reader, SFW
A/N : Thank you for your request!! So sorry you have to be in those situations, please keep yourself safe and never let anyone shame you for being yourself no matter who or how close they are to you, seriously. I didn't make the person who attacked reader as their parents specifically, felt too personal and also, I imagine the reader probably wouldn't be in contact with them since their dating, you know, a slasher. ALSO! I should mention, I am a cis woman, BUT, I am part of the community and, I had and have FTM friends on which I based some of their experiences for this, so I hope I did all of you justice with this. You didn't ask to put any specific slashers, so I decided to only put the 5 of them which gave me the most inspiration for this situation, hope they're ok with you! If anything's wrong with what I wrote, please let me know :) Hope you'll enjoy!!
Thomas Hewitt
➛ Thomas hears you before he sees you.
➛ The door creaks open, heavier than usual, and your steps aren’t right, too slow, uneven, like you’re dragging something invisible behind you.
➛ He’s already turning, before you even come into the room.
➛ And then he sees your face; red eyes, wet cheeks and lips pressed tight like you’re trying not to fall apart again.
➛ Thomas freezes as something deep in his chest twists hard.
➛ He steps toward you immediately, heavy boots thudding against the floor, hands flexing at his sides like he doesn’t know where to put them. A low, worried sound escapes him, rough.
➛ You try to brush it off. “It’s nothing—”
➛ But your voice cracks and that’s it, it’s all it takes for Tommy to close the distance in two long steps and pulls you into him.
➛ It’s sudden but tight and protective.
➛ One arm wraps around your shoulders, the other presses firmly against your back, pulling you fully against his chest like he’s trying to shield you from the entire world. His mask presses into the top of your head as you can feel his uneven breathing.
➛ You don’t even realize when you start crying harder.
➛ He doesn’t let go. Not for a second.
➛ His hand moves up, big and careful, cradling the back of your head as he presses you closer, like if he holds you tight enough, nothing can touch you again.
➛ He rocks you slightly, awkwardly, but still so lovingly, letting out soft, distressed sounds each time your shoulders shake.
➛ When you finally manage to get the words out about why your crying; what they said, how they looked at you, how it made you feel, Thomas goes still. Completely still.
➛ The air around the two of you shifts.
➛ His grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough that you feel the anger and the protectiveness mixed with the terrifying promise behind it.
➛ A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest. Not at you, never at you, but at them.
➛ His hand moves to your face then, clumsy but gentle, tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him. His thumb brushes clumsily at your tears, smearing them away like he’s frustrated they’re even there.
➛ You can’t see his expression, but you don’t need to to know exactly what it looks like.
➛ You’re his. And there is nothing wrong with you that deserves to make you feel this bad about yourself.
➛ Thomas presses his forehead against yours, the leather of his mask warm from his skin. He lets out a softer sound this time, almost soothing, almost a hum.
➛ Then he pulls you back into his chest again, somehow even tighter yet safer.
➛ He doesn’t have the words to explain gender, or identity, or the weight of what you carry. But he understands one thing perfectly; you’re his man.
➛ And anyone who makes you cry for that won’t get the chance to do it again.
Bo Sinclair
➛ Bo notices something’s off the second you walk in.
➛ You don’t slam the door like usual, don’t call out for him and your steps are too quiet, too careful, as if you’re trying to not to be seen.
➛ That alone puts him on edge.
➛ “‘Bout time you—” He cuts himself off when he finally looks at you. “…The hell happened to you?”
➛ His tone isn’t gentle. It’s sharp as usual, if you didn’t know him you would even think it was aggressive, but there’s something underneath it the moment he sees your face.
➛ Your eyes are red, your expression tight, like you’re barely holding it together.
➛ Bo straightens immediately while you try to brush past him.
➛ “It’s nothing, I’m just—”
➛ Your voice cracks and Bo’s entire demeanor shifts the second he hears it.
➛ He grabs your arm, not roughly, but firmly enough to stop you. His grip loosens almost instantly when he sees you flinch, but he doesn’t let you go.
➛ “What happened?” he asks again, lower this time. Serious.
➛ You hesitate, and that’s what sets him off.
“Don’t give me that ‘nothin’’ crap! You come in here lookin’ like that and you think I ain’t gonna notice?”
➛ You finally break, almost before he even finishes his sentence.
➛ The words spill out messily; what one of the tourist said to you this morning, the looks, the way their friends laughed, how it stuck under your skin no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
➛ And the second Bo understands? He goes dead quiet. No jokes, no attitude, just silence.
➛ “They said that to you?” And you nod in answer, wiping at your face like you hate that you’re crying in front of him.
➛ Bo swears under his breath, pacing once like he’s trying to burn off the anger crawling under his skin.
➛ “Bunch of damn morons… Think they real funny, huh?”
➛ You sniff, looking down. “It’s stupid, I shouldn’t even—”
➛ He’s in front of you again in a second. Bo grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.
➛ “Don’t. Don’t you start that shit.”
➛ His thumb brushes roughly at the tear on your cheek, like he’s annoyed it’s even there.
➛ “Ain’t nothin’ stupid about bein’ pissed when someone disrespects you.”
➛ His eyes scan your face, softer now, but still intense. “You hear me?”
➛ You nod weakly, making Bo exhale, running a hand through his hair before suddenly pulling you into him after a hot second.
➛ It’s not as gentle as most boyfriend would be when comforting their boyfriend. It’s tighter and more possessive than it should.
➛ One arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you solidly against his chest while the other presses against your back. You can feel how tense he is.
➛ “How many?” he asks suddenly.
➛ You frown, looking up at him as best as you can with how tightly he’s holding you, managing to get out a weak, confused ‘what’ through your sobs.
➛ “How many of ‘em were laughin’?”
➛ Your stomach drops a little at the tone.
➛ “I hope it’s not the ones who’re already dead.”
➛ He doesn’t push further, but the message is clear. He wants names.
➛ Instead, he just holds you there, grip tightening slightly when you sniff again.
➛ “Listen to me darlin’, I don’t give a damn what they think. They don’t know you, don’t know a single damn thing about you.”
➛ His hand comes up, pressing against the back of your head, keeping you close.
➛ “You’re my boy, alright?” he says, quieter now. “Ain’t nobody gonna tell me different.”
➛ There’s something fierce in it, certain. Possessive, yeah, it’s Bo, but also grounding. Like he’s anchoring you back into yourself.
➛ You feel him relax just slightly when your breathing starts to even out. But the anger? It doesn’t go away.
➛ Later that night, Bo’s still tense. Quieter than usual and watching you more closely.
➛ And if you catch him staring off into space, jaw tight, eyes dark, you know he’s still thinking about it. About them, about what they said, and whether or not they’ll ever get the chance to say it again.
Vincent Sinclair
➛ Vincent knows something’s wrong the moment he looks at you but feels somethings weird before he even does.
➛ He hears the door to his room open, the pause, then the way your footsteps drag just slightly against the floor.
➛ When he looks up and sees your face, everything in him stills.
➛ Your eyes are red and your expression tight, like you’re holding everything in by force alone.
➛ Vincent straightens slowly as you try to look away while trying to move past him.
➛ “I’m fine, just tired.” you mumble, sniffling.
➛ Vincent doesn’t believe you for a second.
➛ He sets his tools down quietly, wiping his hands on a cloth as he approaches you. His movements are slow and careful, giving you space to pull away.
➛ You don’t. So, he reaches out, gently taking your wrist and rubbing circles on them with his thumbs.
➛ When you still won’t look at him, his other hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before softly tilting your chin up.
➛ Your eyes meet his and that’s all it takes for you as your face crumples, tears flowing.
➛ Vincent’s expression immediately softens somehow even more, concern flooding through him.
➛ His hands move without hesitation now; one wrapping around your back, the other cradling your head as he pulls you into him.
➛ You break against his chest. He holds you close, firm, but so gentle it almost hurts.
➛ One hand presses between your shoulder blades, steady and grounding, while the other slides into your hair, fingers threading through it slowly. He rocks you just slightly, a quiet, instinctive motion.
➛ No words, just presence, just him.
➛ When you start trying to explain, voice shaking and uneven, you feel him still for a moment as he listens. Really listens.
➛ And as the words come out, of what they called you, how they looked at you, how it made you feel like you had to shrink in yourself, Vincent’s hold tightens before he pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face.
➛ His thumbs brush under your eyes, wiping away tears carefully, like they shouldn’t be there in the first place, then he signs as he gently lets go of you after a quick rub up and down of your shaking arms.
➛ “They are wrong.”
➛ His eye doesn’t waver from yours for a second as he lifts one hand, resting it gently over your chest, then points to you.
➛ “You.” A pause. “My boyfriend.”
➛ His hand lingers there, over your heart, like he’s anchoring the words into you.
➛ His expression softens even more, something warm and certain in his eyes as he signs again, slower this time.
➛ “I see you.”
➛ No hesitation and no doubt. Simply you, exactly as you are.
➛ Vincent leans forward then, pressing his forehead gently against yours. His eye close for a brief moment, like he’s grounding himself to stay calm and not let his twin’s anger take hold of him.
➛ Then he pulls you back into his arms and he doesn’t let go until you do.
➛ Not when your crying slows, not when your breathing evens out, not even when you try to pull away slightly as you say sorry for wetting his shirt.
➛ His grip tightens just a little, a silent ‘stay.’
➛ Later, when you’ve freed yourself of his hold, he still keeps you close.
➛ Sitting beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, repetitive patterns against your arm.
➛ Every so often, he glances at you, his way of checking, making sure you’re still okay.
➛ And if your expression drops again, even slightly, his hand finds yours immediately.
➛ Because with Vincent, you don’t need them to understand; you are his boyfriend, and he sees you, simply because he loves what he keeps seeing.
Lester Sinclair
➛ Lester notices right away. Not in an observant way like Vincent, more like… instinct.
➛ Something feels off the second you walk in.
➛ “Hey, you’re back!” he starts, turning toward you with that usual easy smile but it drops immediately as he realises his instinct was right. “Baby?”
➛ You look like you’ve been trying not to cry for a while… and failing.
➛ Your eyes are red, your face tense, like you’re holding everything together with thread. Lester straightens up fast.
➛ “What’s wrong? You okay?”
➛ You shake your head a little, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just—”
➛ Your voice breaks and Lester freezes for half a second. Then he’s right in front of you as you almost jump, not expecting him to suddenly be so close to you.
➛ “Okay, no, you are not fine. C’mere.”
➛ He doesn’t wait long, just gently pulls you into a hug, arms wrapping around you in a way that’s a little clumsy but warm. One hand comes up to the back of your head, pressing you lightly into his shoulder.
➛ “Hey, hey, it’s okay…” he murmurs, rubbing your back in slow circles.
➛ You try to talk, but it all comes out messy and broken. The words mixing together of what they said, how they laughed, the way it made your chest feel tight and wrong.
➛ Lester goes quiet. Really quiet. Too quiet for Lester.
➛ “…they said what?”
➛ You nod, wiping at your face, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just—”
➛ “Hey, no, don’t! Don’t apologize! You ain’t done nothin’ wrong sweetheart.”
➛ His arms tighten around you a little. “People just suck sometimes. Don’t know what they’re talkin’ about half the time.”
➛ He pulls back just enough to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. There’s no judgment there, just concern.
➛ “Listen, you’re you, alright? ” he continues, somehow even softer now. “That ain’t somethin’ they get a say in.”
➛ His thumb brushes awkwardly at your cheek, wiping away a tear.
➛ “And for the record? You’re my boyfriend. Ain’t nobody gonna convince me otherwise.”
➛ It’s simple. Casual, even, but it lands.
➛ He pulls you back into a hug right after, like he doesn’t want you drifting too far from him. “C’mon. Let’s sit down, yeah?”
➛ He keeps an arm around you as he guides you over, not letting go once.
➛ Later, Lester sticks close. Like, really close.
➛ He keeps checking in without making a big deal out of it, by offering you something to drink, nudging you lightly and making small jokes just to keep you grounded.
➛ And every time you get quiet or seem like you’re slipping back into your head, he bumps his shoulder against yours gently.
➛ A silent ‘hey, I’m here. You’ne not alone.’
➛ Because Lester might not always know the perfect thing to say, but he makes sure you never feel alone long enough for those words to stick.
Amanda Young
➛ Amanda knows the second she sees you. She’s so used to seeing people in despair, she can almost smell it now.
➛ She doesn’t ask right away, doesn’t rush you, she just watches.
➛ You walk in too quiet, shoulders tense, eyes avoiding hers, and she’s already putting the pieces together. By the time you try to pass her with a muttered ‘I’m fine’, she’s not buying it for a second.
➛ “Come here.” she calls, voice low, but you keep walking. Big mistake.
➛ Amanda stands up fast, crossing the space between you in a few steps. She doesn’t grab you hard, but her hand closes around your wrist just enough to stop you dead in your track.
➛ “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”
➛ You try again. “It’s nothing, I just—”
➛ Your voice cracks, making Amanda’s expression shift instantly.
➛ The tension in her shoulders drops, her grip loosens, and before you can turn away again, she pulls you into her.
➛ “I got you.” she murmurs, one hand coming up to the back of your head, pressing you into her shoulder.
➛ That’s all it takes for you break completely.
➛ The words come out messy, telling her what they said, the way they looked at you, how it made something old and ugly crawl back under your skin. That feeling of being seen as wrong, of being reduced to something bad simply for being.
➛ Amanda goes very still as she listens. “I know that feeling.”
➛ She doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to fix it right away. She just holds you while you cry, one hand rubbing slow circles against your back, grounding, steady.
➛ Her chin rests lightly against your head, and you can feel the tension in her jaw.
➛ When you finally start to quiet down, she pulls back just enough to look at you.
➛ Her hands come up to your face, thumbs brushing under your eyes, wiping away the tears like it matters, because you matter.
➛ “Look at me.”
➛ You hesitate, but still, you do. There’s nothing but certainty in her expression.
“You’re my boyfriend.” she says. No hesitation and no doubt. “And there’s nothing wrong with you being my boyfriend. Not one thing.”
➛ Her voice is steady, but there’s something fierce underneath it.
➛ “If anyone’s got a problem with that, that’s on them.”
➛ She presses her forehead lightly against yours for a second, grounding both of you.
➛ Then she pulls you back into her arms again, slower this time, letting you settle into her instead of holding you too tight.
➛ “You don’t have to deal with that alone, not anymore.”
➛ She sits beside you, shoulder pressed against yours, one arm loosely draped around your waist. Every so often, her fingers trace small, absent patterns against your side, something grounding, repetitive.
➛ If you go quiet too long, she nudges you gently. “Stay with me.”
➛ And if your thoughts start slipping back to what happened, she’s right there to pull you out of it.
➛ Because Amanda doesn’t just comfort you, she understands, and she refuses to let anyone make you feel like that.
➛ Don’t act shocked when one of them ends up in the news a few days later, a journalist explaining the saw trap they died in.
"Been thinking about this all goddamn night,” he panted, hands everywhere, desperate for touch. Needing you. “Christ. You have no idea what you do to me, baby." You roll your eyes and push his head down to were you want... No need him.
"So impatient." He chuckled, breath hot against your skin as he nipped and sucked along your thighs. His touch was electric. Hungry. “Want my attention that bad, huh?"
He shifted lower, teasing that sensitive skin with his tongue just to feel you squirm against him. “Don't worry, gorgeous. I plan on giving you all the goddamn attention you can handle."
"what did you expect... You left me in the middle of the night..." You moan.
"Mmm, and look what I came back to," Adam murmured against your inner thigh, hands gripping your hips like he owned them. “A wet, pissed-off goddess with her legs spread just for me?" He flicked his tongue over your clit-once, slow-then pulled back just enough to smirk up at you.
"You really think I'd leave you hanging after all that?" Another teasing swipe. "Nah. I'm gonna make it up to you... inch by aching inch."
You moan holding his head in place, bucking your hips against mouth as he sucks and licks your clit.
"Adam, right there-" you moaned, fingers tightening in his shaggy hair as your hips buckled against his mouth.
He growled actually growled-at the demand in your grip, loving every second of it. His tongue worked you with a relentless rhythm, swirling just how you liked it while one hand slid up your body to tease a nipple between his fingers.
"That's it,” he rumbled against your soaked skin between flicks of his tongue. "Tell me what you need... You know I'll give it to you."
"ah fuck!" He had that familiar wicked glimmer in his eye-the one that meant he was about to do something sinful. "That's not an answer, gorgeous...” he murmured, voice thick with arousal-lips still so achingly close to where you needed him most, teasing. "Use that pretty mouth and tell me what you want.”
"keep doing that baby..." You whimper. "That's my girl," Adam purred, finally -finally-giving you what you needed. His tongue circled your clit with slow, torturous precision, each flick building the fire higher. One hand slipped down to tease through your wetness, two fingers sliding inside with a groan. "So damn tight... Been thinking about this pussy all night.”
He curled his fingers just right as his mouth clamped over you-sucking-and whispered against your skin: “Come for me, baby. Let me taste it."
Your back arched, body quivering as release shattered through you. “Ah... Adam-! God!"
And that was all it took. The feeling of you clenching around his fingers as you came undone... It would've brought a man to his knees.
But it just made him want more.
He crawled up your body, pinning you against the pillows with his weight. "Think you can take more, baby? I'm not done with you yet."
WARNINGS: fluff, somewhat suggestive? kissing, some angst, mentions of saw traps, mentions of blood. Adam is suggested to be trans. AU where he survives the trap
authors note: HIHI!!! WOAW.. my second fanfic ever… crazy…. ok I just got the random urge to finish this fanfics that’s rotted in my notes app for months,, and I like it!!! jeff buckley was playing while I did this thank him ok
word count: 948 enjoy!! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
the sun sneaked its way through the thin curtains, kissing the skin of you and adam.
the two of you were a bundle of limbs, arms wrapped around eachother, legs tangled up together, your eyes tracing over his face, warm hands radiating under his thin shirt, resting on the scars that rest upon his chest, your fingers dancing along them gently, a soft hum between the two of you.
whatever record that was playing was background noise in your mind, a faint buzz as the evening sunset sneaked its way through the curtains, which were really sheets, holes ripped into them and suspended onto hooks, floral and tacky.
the rug imprinted into your skin, your shirt lazily curled up to the rolls of your stomach. Adam’s hand rested easy upon your hip, fingers dipping into the waistband of your underwear. Seeking the warmth, a shiver running through your body at the action, making the ends of Adam’s mouth quirk up in amusement. Letting out a hum that vibrated beneath your palms.
you scooted closer, goosebumps forming along your skin. “you’re freezing.” you smiled, no real venom to your voice as you grinned at one another. “good thing youre warm then.” adam quipped, arm curling around your middle, pulling you impossibly closer, having you squirm against him in protest.
the two of you let out a fit of giggles, helplessly trying to squirm away from him. the two of you rolled around upon the carpet, shaking with laughter as Adam’s cold hands slipped up your shirt.
after a couple minutes of tussling with one another, Adam’s shenanigans ceased, leaving you laying beneath him, staring at his big grin as the two of you huffed for air, a laugh leaving your lips.
you two stayed like that for a while, breathing in one another, adams arms on either side of your head, shaky with exhaustion. you gently snaked your arms from your sides, hands gently cupping either side of his face.
your thumbs swiped up against his cheek bones, before you tugged down softly, and he immediately collapsed into you, making you let out an amused chuckle. his face burrowed into your neck, nose tickling the sensitive skin.
he pressed a soft, slow kiss upon your pulse, letting out a hum as he felt it skip a beat beneath his lips.
your fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed warm kisses to your neck, along with teasing bites that made your heart race.
his fingers toyed with the band of your underwear, sneakily slipping down before coming back to hold your hips, keeping you snuggly against him.
this little charade went on for a while, the two of your voices intertwining together as you let out soft giggles. Your body still moving in protest against his teasing touches, but your hands only pushed him closer.
after a plethora of kisses and bites were left upon your neck, adam lifted his head slowly, the grin you fell inlove with etched on his face. Your skin glistening with his saliva. He adjusted and rested his head upon your love bitten collarbone. Breathing in one another fo a while once again, your heart beat slowing down. Your fingers found their way into his dark locks, playing and toying with his hair for a little before resting on his scalp.
It was rare the two of you got moments like this anymore. Moments where you forgot where Adam ended and you began. Moments when there was no one else in the entire world. No sounds interrupting your quiet moment, the whole room buzzing with a feeling that felt to raw, it dug too deep into the two of you, twisting its way into your hearts.
it was hard to find moments like this with the buzz of your normal routine you two had crafted together through the 3 years you’ve been together.
life had been especially hard since the trap.
You’ll never forget how he looked when you arrived at the police station. Like a lost and scared puppy, your heart ached seeing the blood on him, seeing the man you had wormed yourself into, who was always so full of love, that had that awkward charm. Who listened to all his CDs too loud, kept all the tabs from his soda cans to make into jewelry, who pirated endless amounts of tv shows and movies he could care less about just because you mentioned them once.
seeing all of that color washed away, like a water color painting that’s too rushed, the colors splotch and melt into one another and ruin. your water color painting. Pent and curved at the edges. Your Adam.
sitting in that cold, hard and metal question room.
You gulped hard at the memory, how he became like a rock, the nightmares never ending, the paranoia become worse ever day.
Adam noticed the way you hardened, fingers tightened in his hair, your eyes spaced out as you stared at the ceiling fan that didn’t work anymore. rosaries hanging from its panels, the decals of wood chipping.
“You with me?” his voice broke through all your thoughts like a knife slicing through butter. Eyes flicking to him in an instant. The crypt of broken memories washing away the minute your eyes locked. You cleared the phlegm and anxiety in your throat and hummed, dimples popping out.
“Yeah.” Adam mimicked your expression, his teeth revealing themselves with a soft smile, reserved for you.
His arms tightened around you, his shirt riding up more along with yours, skin messing together, your chin resting upon his hair. Absorbing each other until you both drifted off to sleep, bathed in sunlight, wrapped up in eachother.
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
written by yurisoldier400/@teethkinksoldier
I do not condone my work being stolen or fed into ai.
𝒱ic — 8teen, he/him. about me + main blog. masterlist below! (mostly wips at the moment)
male & gn reader only, top when applicable. fandoms i’ll write for include Supernatural, The Walking Dead, Saw, X-Men, MCU, The Boys, plus some xtra. requests always welcome ^_^
THE WALKING DEAD
GN READER pulling more than just your weight.. taking glenn’s polaroid cam..
★ DARYL DIXON daryl x dean winchester hcs + part 2
GN READER drawing daryl..
MALE READER hiding from merle as teens.. being his gay awakening..
EXPLICIT nsfw headcanons.. discovering his praise kink.. first time..
★ GLENN RHEE
EXPLICIT he’s a little too loud..
★ MAGGIE RHEE
GN READER teaching maggie how to slowdance..
SUPERNATURAL
★ SAM WINCHESTER
GN READER sleepy & clingy sam drabble.. being a movie nerd.. patching him up.. comforting him after a fight with dean.. alternative partner headcanons.. he loves you, even through your bad days.. unwinding after a hunt.. it’s your birthday.. you’re his safe space.. can’t sleep, so he plays with your hair..
MALE READER you’re dean’s best friend; surely you have no chance.. pining for one another until dean gets tired of it.. spending the morning together.. getting paired for a project at stanford.. making him emo for the day.. sam can't lose you.. taking care of you when you over-bind..
EXPLICIT save a horse, ride a cowboy.. in lieu, let a cowboy ride you.. taking care of you after a hunt.. needs you to stay quiet during sex.. making up for how busy you’d been on hunts..
★ DEAN WINCHESTER dean x daryl dixon hcs + part 2
GN READER you’re his personal photographer..
MALE READER he doesn’t know how to handle intimacy.. reconnecting after transitioning.. seeing your top surgery scars for the first time..
EXPLICIT he gets curious about your second surgery.. [ftm reader] car sex drabble.. teaching a pillow princess dean how to ride.. he just haaates you.. save a horse.. he can’t help himself when he’s in your lap..
★ CASTIEL
MALE READER he’s extra clingy tonight.. someway, somehow, an angel falls for you..
SAW
★ ADAM FAULKNER-STANHEIGHT
MALE READER falling for the photographer.. [rockstar reader]
MCU
★ JAMES “BUCKY” BARNES
MALE READER getting buck to sit on your lap.. slowdancing.. you’ve caught a cold.. best friends to lovers..
EXPLICIT taking care of a sleepy you.. keeping a little something before he’s gone..
Kinktober 2025 || unfair exploitation of a mask kink with Amanda Young
Warnings/contains: gn! reader, Jigsaw apprentice! reader, swearing, smut/nsfw content, mask kink, knife kink, slight fear kink, slight dom/sub dynamics (dom Amanda/sub reader), grinding/dry humping, mild swearing, overstimulation, could be seen as dubcon in some places
Prompt list used | Kinktober 2025 masterlist
Beginning notes: a mask kink and mandy is such a perfect combination (I was debating between her and hoffman but mr lip filler didn't make the cut)
You were a new apprentice of Jigsaw that had recently been recruited after surviving your trap with a sudden new appreciation for life. Amanda was doing her best to help teach you the ropes, explaining the best way to knock someone out when "collecting" them for their traps.
"First, you want to put your mask and cloak on, and keep them on the entire time. You can't risk being seen without them," she stated while unceremoniously shoving them in your arms. "Wait until they're distracted, then sneak up from behind and inject them with the needle. It should knock them out instantly."
Nodding your head to let her know that you understood, you replied with, "got it. Mask and cloak, inject with needle once distracted."
"I'll be going on my own for this one, but if you're good I might let you join me next time." She grabbed her own outfit and headed for the workshop's shoddy elevator, calling out over her shoulder as she went. "And don't fuck with my things while I'm gone."
You watched as she left, feeling a strange sort of stirring in your gut when you saw her with the pig mask on before she disappeared from sight. Brushing it off as just nerves, you busied yourself with tidying up your own workstation while you waited for her to return.
It was seeming to take forever for her to get back, and since you were a little tired you figured you'd lay down for a short nap on the cot you'd been given. It couldn't hurt, right?
You weren't sure how long you were asleep for when you were jolted awake by two hands on your shoulders, shaking you aggressively. "Wake up," the muffled voice of Amanda spoke through the mask, the dull eyes of the pig staring down blankly where you still laid.
Your own eyes went wide with shock, your heart racing as you tried to catch your breath. It certainly didn't help how she still had her mask on. Something about it made a shiver go down your spine, and it wasn't from fear.
Even though you couldn't see her face, you could sense how the wheels seemed to be turning in her head as she processed your reaction to her startling you awake. "You're not afraid, are you?" She bluntly questioned.
"Um..." you weren't quite sure how exactly to respond. You didn't get very long to think before she was pushing you back down onto your makeshift bed, straddling your hips as she tightened her grip on your shoulders.
"Answer the question," she demanded, her fingers digging harshly into your skin through your shirt.
"No! No, I'm- I'm not afraid, per say," you managed to mumble out, avoiding direct eye contact with her (which in this case meant averting your eyes from the mask). A warm feeling was beginning to pool in your lower belly, and it became more and more noticeable the longer she was there for.
"You enjoy this, don't you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She was quickly starting to catch on. Amanda was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.
"...maybe..." you quietly admitted, seeming a bit reluctant to give up that kind of information, especially given the current situation you were stuck in.
She let out a huff, though whether it was one of exasperation or amusement remained to be seen. Reaching down into the pocket of her cargo pants, she pulled out a small knife, moving to hold it against your throat.
You swallowed thickly, unsure of where this was going. Until you felt her shift above you, one of her knees slipping between your legs and pushing itself against your crotch. "Wha-?"
"Shh. This can just be another test for you." Her voice was scarily soft, almost sweet, which you most definitely were not used to. She carefully dragged the blade from your neck down, brushing it along your collarbone as she spoke. "You're much more fragile than the rest of us, aren't you? It's almost cute."
Part of you felt a little offended by her condescending tone, but a much bigger part of you could only focus on the mask on her face, her knee between your thighs, the blade on your skin. It was utterly terrifying, in the best way possible.
"Please..." you breathed out, though you weren't quite sure why. Maybe you did it because you knew deep down that she wanted to hear you beg for her. Maybe you just sought her approval that badly, and you wanted to make her proud.
She seemed pleased regardless of the reason. You thought so, anyway. It was a bit more difficult to get a read on her when her face was covered like it was.
"Look at me," she suddenly commanded, her free hand moving to grab onto your chin, forcing your gaze up on her. You'd still been avoiding looking at her directly, and she wasn't having that.
A slight whimper managed to escape you, your body trembling in anticipation for whatever could happen next. She shifted some, her knee pressing against your crotch more noticeably; this caused your hips to twitch upwards on instinct, seeking out friction from her to help quell your ache.
She snorted with laughter at the movement. "Good job," she lightly praised, as though she was happy with the display of your obvious need.
That caused your heart to stutter in your chest a bit. Hesitantly, you pushed your hips up again, swallowing back a noise of pleasure at the feeling of her knee rubbing against you.
"Don't silence yourself," she chastised, the knife taking a detour from where it had been resting on your collarbone to teasingly ghost over your cheek before returning to its previous position. "I wanna be able to hear all your pretty little sounds. If you behave, I might even let you join me the next time I need to go out."
You perked up instantly. She never let you go out with her, always insisting that you should stay behind in case John needed you for something. It was a bit boring to be stuck in a warehouse all day with a dying cancer patient, to be honest.
Nodding your head in agreement, you moved your hips up for a third time, allowing a moan to escape when you did so. It took you a few tries to get a steady pace, not to mention become confident enough to do it continuously. Your thrusting was eager and sloppy, making it obvious that you were more than willing to please, even if you had no idea what the hell you were doing supposed to be doing.
Breathy whines and mewls from you filled the otherwise stiffling silence, the pig mask staring down with a kind of quiet smugness as Amanda kept her hand on your chin, the other maneuvering the flat part of the knife blade down your clothed chest.
It was all a bit too much. There wasn't a single part of you that hadn't been affected by her, it would seem. Your noises turned desperate, your movements even sloppier, as her knee persistently pressed forward.
"That's it, there we go," she continued to coax, seeming to enjoy the way you were falling apart underneath her. "Keep going, you're almost there, I can tell."
With a finalizing grunt, you came, your body tensing as your intense orgasm washed over you. It seemed to drag on forever, and it certainly didn't help that Amanda was keeping her knee in the same spot.
Whining, you tried your best to wriggle away, like a worm caught on a hook. She waited another moment or so before moving off of you at last, having found a sort of perverse pleasure in watching you struggle.
"Just look at you, completely fucked out just from humping my knee." Her tone was equally sympathetic and cruel, but you were too exhausted to care.
You simply watched as she finally removed the mask from her face, tossing it off to the side before grabbing a nearby rag (one that you hoped to god was clean) that she then used to wipe some of the sweat from you.
"You did so well with following my directions," she cooed out, seeming genuinely proud. Her hair was messy from being put up in the mask for so long, but you thought she looked beautiful. "I think you're ready to help me set up some traps now that you've proved what a good listener you can be."
End notes: I think this is good?? idk man sometimes I just sort of type stuff out and hope it all flows together nicely lmao
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