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ghoulsbounty · 23 hours

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If you’re still taking requests I would love Baby Billy with the reader giving him a blowjob in a car if you can. You can do the plot and all that, thank you! I might request more if you’re taking them at the moment.

Heaven Itself

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), blowjob, oral (m receiving), cum eating (kinda), fingering, roadhead, spitkink-ish, rough oral sex, messy, face fucking, choking, gagging, dirty talk, reader is a good girl, porn with a little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: OH BOY I love writing dirty things with this weird man. I realise I took 'giving him a blowjob in a car' and completely ran with it but I hope you enjoy it regardless, Anon. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

It unfolded just as you had expected. You wished that Baby Billy would stop with the schemes, cease seeking approval from everyone else, especially his late sister's family. Yet, the allure of the coveted position of pastor at the new Locust Grove location, and the payday that would come with it, had drawn him back into their fold. You remained supportive, though with a quiet pessimism that always accompanied your husband's involvement with the Gemstones. It wasn't that you didn't like them, but they seemed to bring out the worst in him, and it was a side you rarely saw when it was just the two of you back home at Freeman's Gap.

Of course, it had happened again. Another argument with his brother-in-law, and Baby Billy had stormed out of the church, relinquishing the title of pastor and dragging you along with him to the car. It was a scene that played out at least once a month, and so when you caught Eli's exhausted eye roll as you were pulled through the doors, you gave him a silent nod. It was a signal that conveyed your resolve to sort everything out—not for Eli, of course, but for the sake of your husband's reputation and perhaps your own sanity.

Baby Billy gripped the wheel with white-knuckled intensity as you hurtled down the narrow, curving roads. The tires skidded on the tarmac with every tight turn, your stomach rising and falling with each dip as he accelerated so forcefully that you were pressed back into your seat. His eyes were wild, fixed in a furious glare at the road ahead, completely ignoring your pleas to slow down as your hand tightened around his thigh.

The rush of adrenaline coursed through your veins, mingling with a hint of fear as you clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your attempts to calm him, he seemed consumed by a reckless determination, his foot heavy on the pedal as he pushed the car to its limits.

With each passing moment, the world outside became a blur, the only constants the roar of the engine beneath you and his frustrated rant about the head of the Gemstones. His words came out in a torrent of anger, punctuated by the car's aggressive growl as it hurtled forward.

"Fuck Eli Gemstone," he declared vehemently. "He thinks he's so high and mighty, but he'd be nothing without Aimee-Leigh. And who made her? That's right, Baby Billy Freeman, that's who. He'd be nothing without the both of us."

His words hung heavy in the air, charged with anger. The car sped on, each mile marker blurring past as he continued to vent his frustrations. His grip on the wheel remained tight as he poured out years of pent-up resentment.

You had heard it all before. You'd listened to him lament the loss of his sister and his career, watched him pine over what he had once had, and seen him almost scream in frustration over the fact that he had to keep going back to his brother-in-law for handouts.

The weight of his struggles was heavy on your shoulders, a burden you bore alongside him with each passing day. You had witnessed the toll it took on him, the way it gnawed at his pride and eroded his sense of self-worth. Yet, despite it all, he persevered, driven by a determination to reclaim what he had lost and prove himself worthy of the respect he felt he deserved.

After each failed business venture, it always took so long to rebuild Baby Billy, to piece him back together again. You had been through this cycle before, weathering the storms of disappointment and setbacks together. Each time, you had stood by his side, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he picked up the pieces of his shattered dreams. And as the darkened landscape passed you in a blur, you mentally prepared yourself for the arduous task ahead, knowing that it would begin with getting him out of his own head.

Your hand on his thigh slid higher, your fingers teasingly dancing over his crotch as you swiftly worked on the belt and zipper of his jeans. His rant lost momentum, his gaze locking onto you with a wondrous glint before watching your hand disappear into his pants.

"Keep those eyes on the road, Baby," you instructed, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you boldly grabbed his cock through his boxers. He emitted a low groan, desire igniting in his eyes, yet he dutifully complied with your command, refocusing his attention on the road ahead.

"Ol' Baby Billy getting some roadhead, now? Alright," he chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he adjusted himself in his seat and spread his legs wider, eagerly anticipating your next move.

Baby Billy seethed through his teeth as you liberated his cock from the confines of his tight jeans, already half-hard and throbbing in your palm. You felt the weight of him as he sat thick and heavy in your hand, hummed affectionately when he pulsed against your touch.

With practiced skill, you began to stroke him gently, feeling him grow harder, larger, in your grip. Your thumb traced teasing circles over his weeping slit, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as he instinctively bucked into your hand, craving more of your touch.

You chuckled, unclipped your seatbelt and manoeuvred in your seat so that your legs were folded beneath you, leaning over the arm rest that sat between you both. His hand closest to you left the wheel, hung over you almost hesitantly before resting on your back with a soothing stroke.

The air around you crackled with tension, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with the steady hum of the engine as he slowed the car to an normal-pace. You smiled to yourself, inwardly praised yourself for knowing how this man ticks. You always managed to bring him back from the ledge that he put himself on.

As you took one tentative lick at his slit, Baby Billy gasped, his grip tightening on the fabric of your dress. You squeezed the base of his cock, flicking your tongue over him again and lapping at the salty tang that you craved.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, his hips instinctively rutting upwards for more as you pulled away with a teasing smile. Undeterred, you continued to stroke him leisurely, lifting your head up to kiss him momentarily on the cheek before dipping back down. With deliberate slowness, you spat a thick slew of saliva onto his aching, red tip before spreading it over him with your tongue, eliciting a low groan of pleasure from him.

"Well, if that ain't the best gotdamn thing I've ever felt," he sighed with satisfaction, his hand releasing its grip on your dress to tangle into your hair. "Hallelujah!"

As you hummed appreciatively around his cock, he guided your head down further, his hand urging you to take him in completely. The sensation of your throat constricting around him was intoxicating to him, a release of pent-up frustrations manifested in the rhythmic thrusts of his hips. Each choked gasp and whimper that escaped your lips fuelled his desire, a primal need to dominate and possess.

This dynamic between you had evolved over time, growing increasingly raw and intense with each passing year. You had embraced your role as the devoted wife, willing to fulfil his desires and provide him with the release he sought, no matter how unconventional or demanding they may be. And for Baby Billy, this unwavering loyalty was a source of comfort, a reassurance that despite the challenges and setbacks he faced, you would always be there for him, ready to support and submit to his needs.

You concentrated on keeping your jaw how you knew he liked it—slack and drool dripping down his shaft as he began to bob your head up and down with his grip in your hair. He set a rhythm that had you gasping for breath. The slickness between your thighs grew with each thrust, the taste of him—a salty bitterness—overwhelming your senses as he bullied his way deep into the back of your throat.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Choking on my cock, drool everywhere... you love it, don't you?" His hips thrust harder, his grip in your hair tightening as he took his pleasure from your willing mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building between them. His words of praise and filthy words always had you burning for his touch, your desire growing with each moment as he continued to use your mouth as a cocksleeve. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to seek your own pleasure, your focus remained solely on his.

His grip on the back of your head tightened as he began to thrust up to meet the descent of your mouth, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment. You felt a sharp intake of breath escape him as he pushed down roughly, hitting the back of your throat yet again but holding you there, your breath cut short as his cock filled your mouth entirely and you retched around him. His prideful chuckle cut through the air, and you clenched your eyes shut, thinking of how bruised you were going to be after this but revelling in it none the less as you willed your throat to relax it's spasms.

Finally, he released you, bringing you up for a gasp of air as your fat tears mixed with the thick saliva coating your chin. You took in deep, ragged breaths, your chest heaving with exertion as you blinked away the tears. Your body trembled from the intensity he loved to put you through, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He looked down at you with a mixture of pride and satisfaction, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. "That's my girl," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. "Always so good for me."

You shivered at his words, the ache between your thighs was almost unbearable, your arousal heightened by his praise and the soft touch amidst the rough handling.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His fingers traced your lips before slipping inside your mouth. "Get them good and wet, now."

You eagerly obeyed, swirling your tongue around his fingers as he watched you intently, his gaze dark with desire and satisfaction. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he suddenly veered off the road, coming to a hard stop on the dirt path. You jolted back against your seat, Baby Billy pulling you back over the armrest with your face in his lap and your ass in the air, on display to anyone who would drive past you on the dark back road. The hand that was on the wheel now gripped the back of your head instead, guiding your mouth back to his cock with a sense of urgency.

As he directed you with one hand, the other deftly flipped up the fabric of your dress, slipping beneath your soaking underwear. The touch of his fingers against your heated flesh sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire of desire that burned hot within you.

You moaned around him as his digits glided through your wet folds, your body instinctively seeking more of his touch as you swivelled your hips back hungrily to find friction against his palm. He laughed, his head thrown back against the headrest as he looked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I know you get yourself all worked up looking after me, now," he told you, the warmth of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "But you know Baby Billy will look after you too, sweetheart. A man's got to see to his wife."

You whimpered as two fingers entered you, thick and demanding, your body eagerly accepting the intrusion as you arched against his touch. The squelch of your cunt burned your cheeks with embarrassment as he fucked his fingers in and out of you with a relentless pace. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the tension in your body to unbearable heights.

Your screams vibrated around his cock as his thumb rubbed deliberate circles on your clit, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, as he expertly manipulated your sensitive nub, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each tantalizing stroke.

His other hand now rested at the back of your neck, holding you in place as his hips thrust up to fuck your mouth aggressively. You remained slack-jawed and slobbering over him, completely at his mercy as he took control. This was Baby Billy in his element, relishing in the power he held over you, using your mouth as a tool for his pleasure while simultaneously bringing you to your own bliss.

He liked to push you to your limits, to see how much you could take as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your throat. Each thrust was met with a gasp from you, your body straining to accommodate his relentless rhythm. Yet, despite the discomfort, you remained obedient, knowing that this was what he wanted, what he needed.

"I know you like it," he groaned, his eyes closed when your tongue began to lap greedily at his cock with every thrust. "Fuck, you love it when I fuck your mouth, don't ya? Having you here, stuffed with my fingers and my cock, you—fuck—you just eat that shit right up." His voice was rough with desire, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him

You could feel it building, the tell-tale signs of his impending release. His thighs tightened, his hips stuttered against you, and his breathing became ragged as praise fell from his lips. You knew it was coming soon, the moment when he would finally give you his load, and you braced yourself for the inevitable surge of ecstasy.

You were almost there, too. The familiar pit in your lower stomach, the delicate feeling of teetering on the edge as his fingers curled inside of you, pressing into that spongey spot that had you seeing stars. A muffled cry escaped your lips as you pushed back to meet his relentless assault on your cunt, the intense pleasure overwhelming your senses.

The sensation was electrifying, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you rode the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. With each thrust of his fingers and each stroke of his thumb on your clit, you felt yourself spiralling closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit you, a wave of pleasure so intense it left you breathless. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, pleasure rippling through you as you cried out. The sloppy sounds of him fucking you through your orgasm filled the car as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure shooting through you.

"That's it, let Baby Billy hear you, now," he panted, grinning as your garbled mewls grew louder, more spit gushing around him as he refused to stop his ministrations against you. You tried to wriggle away from his attention, your cunt now swollen and clenching around his digits that remained buried inside you. He chuckled breathily, his fingers coming to a still as they slid from you. He ran his hand up the expanse of your back.

Your body relaxed against the leather seat, tired and spent from your orgasm as your fingers released their tight grip on the arm rest. You pulled away from him, sucked in a deep breath, a string of spit connecting from his cock to your glistening lips. You felt empty and groaned at the loss of fullness, but didn't have time to contemplate it before both Baby Billy's hands were in your hair, using them to shove his way inside of you ruthlessly. He fell into a maddening pace, his hips rutting as his drool covered sac slapped against your chin.

"That's it angel," he said encouragingly, his breath short as he dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "You take everything I give you."

With a few more powerful thrusts, he comes with a loud shout from deep in his chest, releasing thick, white ropes down your throat. You swallow quickly, determined to take his heavy load as he desires, but there's always so much of it. It drips from the corners of your mouth, rolls down your chin as your chest heaves to suppress the rest of it. After the last few spurts have subsided, you lick diligently at his swollen tip, gratefully lapping up any traces that you couldn't take beforehand. Tucking him back inside his jeans, you raise back onto your knees to look at him with a fucked out gaze that has his chest warming.

He smiled at you with tired eyes, reaching out to cup your cheek. With a gentle swipe, he collected the salty residue of his release from your chin and guided it back between your lips. He was adamant that not a drop of him go to waste. You obediently cleaned it from his thumb, watching him through wet lashes before pulling away with a soft pop.

Your husband held your chin between his thumb and finger, giving it a slight shake as he smiled. His voice was laced with satisfaction and affection as he murmured, "Sent from Heaven itself."

#uncle baby billy #uncle baby billy x reader #baby billy x reader #the righteous gemstones #walton goggins #baby billy freeman #baby billy freeman x reader #fic request #uncle baby billy smut #baby billy smut #smut fic #the righteous gemstones smut #the righteous gemstones x reader

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ghoulsbounty · 1 day

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black sabbath - the collection part 1 1985 ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ

#reblog #black sabbath #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 1 day

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#reblog #house of 1000 corpses #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 2 days

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Filming is starting this month! Season 4 hive rise up!

#reblog #the righteous gemstones #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 2 days

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BOYD CROWDER & AVA CROWDER in 'JUSTIFIED' (SEASON 2)

I lied for you taking that mining money. This is different, Ava. I guess me taking you in and building you up was a mistake. Just set you back to square one. That's not true. You took me in, and you healed me, Ava. You give me a reason to wake up in the morning. For that, I'll be eternally grateful.

#reblog #boyd crowder #ava crowder #justified #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 2 days

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#reblog #a nightmare on elm street #freddy krueger #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 2 days

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I love that you are the reason for most of the fluffy Boyd requests in my inbox. So glad you've like them both!

The dishcloth on the shoulder I was like... Well wait a minute what if I just...ruined EVERYONE including myself? Okay cool.

Thank you for requesting, I love writing fluffy (and possessive) Boyd 🥹❤️

Okay! Boyd Crowder request pretty please. How about some short headcanons/ thoughts about reader wearing one of his shirts. You know those ones from S2 and 3? Like it’s a warm day and reader shows up to Johnny’s bar in some denim shorts, a crop top and one of Boyd’s shirts open with the sleeves rolled up. I think he’d loose his goddamn mind. Preferably no smut, but I know the request kinda leans into it so maybe something at the end. idk! you do you! Thank you!

Wearing His Shirt

Boyd Crowder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers for season 2/3, alludes to smut but no actual mention, a little angst, comfort, fluff and a happy ending.

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: Anon, this turned more into a little fic/scenario moment rather than a headcanon, I hope that's okay and you enjoy it still! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Boyd likes to think of himself as a considerate partner. Although your relationship is still relatively new, he takes pride in picking up on the small details that bring you joy or cause you distress, often understanding your needs before you articulate them. However, with the recent acquisition of his cousin's bar and the complexities of the Black Pike deal, his focus on you has diminished more than he'd like to acknowledge. His once regular check-ins and sweet messages have become sporadic and hurried, often cut short by pressing business matters. The late nights and brief phone calls have led to him being less present both physically and emotionally, and you're reaching your breaking point.

Johnny's bar buzzes with activity, the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses creating a lively symphony in the dimly lit space. The familiar scent of beer and faint traces of smoke hang in the air. As you push open the door and step inside, the room's energy seems to shift, heads turning to acknowledge your presence with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Their gazes, like predators sizing up their prey, linger on you, but your focus is singular.

Boyd stands behind the bar, a rag casually draped over his shoulder, the dim light casting a warm glow on his features. He engages in a conversation with a patron who is leaning heavily on the counter, gesticulating animatedly. Boyd nods along, listening intently, but the moment he spots you approaching, a noticeable change comes over him. His eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes the bustling room seem to fall away.

As you saunter towards him, his gaze follows your every step, his attention entirely consumed by your presence. The customer’s words fade into the background, reduced to a dull hum as Boyd's focus shifts solely to you. His eyes drift down your body, taking in every detail of your appearance, from the way your eyes shine as you look at him to the confident way you carry yourself. It's as if he's seeing you for the first time all over again, his expression a mix of admiration and longing.

You feel a spark of satisfaction knowing that you can still capture his attention so completely, even amidst the chaos of his busy bar. As you reach the counter, Boyd's lips curl into a slow smile, the kind that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. You watch as he gestures with a hand to the customer he was previously talking with and you smile at the older gentleman as he rises from his seat, disappearing behind you.

Boyd leans slightly closer, his eyes never leaving yours, making you feel like the most important person in the room. In that moment, surrounded by the lively chatter and clinking glasses, it’s clear that no one else matters to him but you.

Seeing you in his shirt stirs something deep within him, a quiet sense of possessiveness that isn’t about control or dominance, but rather a satisfying feeling of connection. He appreciates the way you fill out the shirt, how the navy and grey fabric drapes over your frame, hinting at the contours beneath.

To the other men in the establishment, the glimpse of your bare thighs in those fitted cut-offs or the swell of your breasts in the thin crop underneath his shirt would undoubtedly set their hearts racing. Boyd, too, couldn’t help but appreciate that enticing sight. However, what truly struck a chord with him was witnessing your subtle proclamation of his ownership over you amidst a room bustling with other men. You belong to him, and he certainly belongs to you.

You approach him with slow, deliberate strides until just the counter is between you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of admiration and desire. A mischievous spark dances in his eyes as he leans casually against the bar, his fingertips tingling with the desire to caress the fabric, to revel in the warmth of your skin beneath. Yet, just before his hand extends, he halts, a silent gesture of restraint, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. With a deliberate movement, he clasps his hands firmly on the counter, his touch reserved yet charged with an unspoken promise of what could be.

His voice, usually smooth and confident, carries a subtle huskiness as he speaks. "Well now, ain't that a sight," he remarks, his drawl laced with amusement. "Looks like my shirt found itself in the finest of company today."

"Been feeling mighty lonely lately. Ain't been getting much attention, you know," you confide in him, a playful lilt in your voice as you tilt your head. "Thought maybe borrowing your shirt might do the trick, you reckon?"

Straightening up, Boyd casts a deliberate gaze around the room, a silent command for everyone present to divert their attention away from the captivating vixen who's currently pouting at him. Once he's ensured that all eyes have shifted elsewhere, he snaps his focus back to you with a confident smirk.

"Well, darlin'," he drawls, his voice low and rough, "seems like you've succeeded in getting everyone's attention, mine included."

"Hard work, nowadays," you sigh dramatically, and he chuckles softly as he leans across the bar, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. "Do I get to keep it for long?" you whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the buzz of the bar.

"Have I been neglecting you, baby?" He grins as he leans back slightly, his hand reaching out to casually adjust the rolled sleeves of his shirt that adorns your figure. "Is that why you've decided to grace my fine establishment with your beauty, nearly causing every man in this joint to suffer a near fatal heart attack, hm?"

His tone is playful, but beneath the jest, there's a hint of genuine concern. He watches you closely, searching your eyes for any sign of discontent or longing, his fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt on your skin with a tender familiarity.

You giggle, running your thumb along his forearm as he continues to absentmindedly toy with the fabric. "Maybe that was the plan all along. Finally, some quality time for me with no customers or associates around, huh? I can be your number one priority," you tease, the playful tone in your voice ringing through the air. But your laughter falters as you notice a brief flicker of something in his expression, a momentary hardening before it softens again.

His gaze meets yours, and you can see the conflict playing out in his eyes, the struggle to balance his personal and professional life. There's a vulnerability there that he rarely shows, a glimpse behind the confident façade he wears for the world. You reach out, your hand gently squeezing his arm, silently offering reassurance and understanding.

As he pulls back from you, a fleeting worry crosses your mind. Have you said too much? Pushed him too far? Though Boyd has never so much as raised his voice at you, his sudden movement sparks a flicker of concern. You watch in silence as he takes the rag from his shoulder, tossing it down onto the bar with a resolute thud, and steps out from behind the counter, closing the distance between you at last.

In that moment of uncertainty, his words wash over you like a soothing balm. "You are always my first priority," he murmurs, his voice soft and intimate, filled with a sincerity that melts away your apprehension. His arms slide under the shirt you wear, encircling your waist as he draws you close to his chest.

As you nestle against him, his gaze meets yours, and you see the earnestness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't been present," he admits, his voice tinged with remorse. "But I'm going to fix that."

"I know," you assure him with a smile, your hands tenderly resting on his chest as you lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

He returns your smile, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in a hushed tone, meant only for you to hear. "Let's go in the back," he murmurs softly, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "I've got a feeling I need to remind you just how much you mean to me."

#reblog #ginevranights #boyd requests #wearing his shirt #out of time

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ghoulsbounty · 2 days

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rz michael canonically likes kiss

#reblog #halloween #rz!michael myers #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 3 days

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me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:

like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together

#reblog #meme #queue will hunt

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ghoulsbounty · 3 days

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Wearing His Shirt

Boyd Crowder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers for season 2/3, alludes to smut but no actual mention, a little angst, comfort, fluff and a happy ending.

Word Count: 1.3K

"Well, darlin'," he drawls, his voice low and rough, "seems like you've succeeded in getting everyone's attention, mine included."

As you nestle against him, his gaze meets yours, and you see the earnestness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't been present," he admits, his voice tinged with remorse. "But I'm going to fix that."

"I know," you assure him with a smile, your hands tenderly resting on his chest as you lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

#boyd crowder x reader #boyd crowder imagine #boyd crowder fic #fic request #walton goggins #justified #justified fx #justified fanfic #justified x reader #fluff fic #comfort fic #x reader #boyd crowder headcanon

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