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toxicanonymity · 11 months

Note

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUEL: EVERY INCH 2 🔪 THREEQUEL: 3

Slasher master list

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist). You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up. It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car. He smells faintly of weed and sweat. You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand. You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure.

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried. It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare?

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you. Your heart pounds in your chest. You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body closer and your heart nearly stops as your inner thigh softly nudges his hand. But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it. Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches. He’s only somewhat hard, but obviously packing. He still doesn’t move. His chest is rising and falling with his breaths. You know he’s alive. Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more. You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately. It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear. You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you. Stabbing is penetrative after all. Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him? After all, he’s only a man. Why not, you think. This could be your best chance to find out. This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation. You’re turned on thinking about it. If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose. Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush. The tables have turned. You’re on top of him now. You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer. You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is. Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you. Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself.

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up. But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought. You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react. You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing. You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap. Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves. He seems to look at you. Then a soft, low sigh. You lower your crotch again and he’s harder. You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder. A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.

You’re going to have to have him. This is your chance and you can’t resist it. Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again. You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient. You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband. His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock. You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs. Your core aches to be filled.

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch. He moans but doesn’t move. Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt. His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full. It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time. You wonder if you could just fuck from now on. If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness. You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly. You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms, unable to free them from the headrest. He’s groggy and weak. You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming. You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race. “Knew it.” Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard. Always wanted this cock. Knew it. He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger. Nasty Girl.

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips. Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him. You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls. You decide to jerk him off as a power move. You kneel into the open door frame of the car. You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist. “All ya had to do was ask,” he says. All you had to do was ask. You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street. Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade. He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly. His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants. Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe. You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

Thanks @darkscape for helping me brainstorm his tagline.

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #slasher smut #slasher fanfiction #cw noncon #tw noncon #cw somnophilia #night walks #ghostface #slasher fucker #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #dark fic #ghostface ☠️

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selfproclaimed-moviecritic · 1 month

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This is so Beach Walks and just overall Night Walks coded I am having a heart attack fr @toxicanonymity

I do not own these photos!!! They are from @joeIsmillers on Twitter!!

#joel miller #lucien flores #the uninvited #pedro pascal #toxicanonymity ☠️#nightwalks!joel #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #smoking #nightwalks #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #god i wish that was me #i love him

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noxturnalpascal · 1 month

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Mutual

Steve Murphy x F!Reader (3.6k)

Summary: You and Steve spend some late nights in the office together, finding a new way to work off some of the frustrations of the never-ending hunt for the narcos.

Warnings: Basically all smut (and a big ole cock). Infidelity (only if your name is Connie).

A/N: A gift for one of my favorite - and long time - mutuals, @toxicanonymity. Thanks for everything you do for this community and for always being there whenever I need anything. Love you lots!!

You walk into the mostly-empty office holding two styrofoam cups of coffee and wearing a beleaguered expression. Immediately your eyes are drawn to Murphy’s hands, his elongated fingers, stained purple and red beneath the skin, cuts still oozing at his knuckles. You watch him stand up, take off his jacket and loosen his tie, then resume sitting behind his desk, completely ignoring your entrance.

“You’re here late,” Peña offers.

“Yeah, well some of us can’t get away with doing whatever we want,” you quip back.

Peña’s hand flies to his chest and pouts his lower lip as if your words have wounded him. You roll your eyes. You look back towards Murphy and can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing his wedding ring. You wonder why. He still hasn’t looked up, busy flipping through paperwork, making notes in the margins.

“Seriously though, why are you here so late? I bet your boyfriend doesn’t like that,” Peña teases.

“I’ve told you several times that I don’t have a boyfriend, Peña.”

“And I’ve told you several times to call me Javi,” he coos. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again as he maintains eye contact. “Besides, if you’re single, why don’t I ever see you going on dates?”

“Because I’m here, working through dinner with you cowboys!”

Steve huffs a laugh at that and when you look at him he’s finally looking your way, eyebrows raised and pointing to one of the steaming cups in your hand. You hand it over, his long, bruised fingers brushing over yours during the exchange, and then offer the other cup to his partner. He doesn’t reach for it.

“Actually ma’am,” Peña says in a mock accent as he tips an invisible cowboy hat to you, “this ole cowboy has a late dinner date.” He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, hastily shoves his arms into it, gives a wink to you, and heads out without another word.

“Don’t mind him,” Murphy says, “a ‘late dinner date’ is just code for hooker.”

Now it’s your turn to chuckle. Why isn’t he wearing his wedding ring tonight? Maybe he took it off earlier when he was washing the blood from his hands but… No, you don’t remember seeing it then either. You realize he’s looking at you, watching you stare at his fucking hands. He’s gotta know you like his hands, right? It’s not awkward. He’s gotta know.

“That looks painful,” you don’t look away from them. “Was it worth it?”

“I dunno yet,” he goes back to flipping through his papers. “Ask me tomorrow.”

Murphy’s little stunt earlier didn’t just mean his hands were a cut-up mess, it also meant he’d have pulled the short straw to finish the paperwork needed to try and sweep it under the rug. If all went well, and they’d put the right amount of money into the right people’s pockets, he could get away with having beat that snarky reporter’s face in and no one around here would be asking too many questions in the morning. It’s going to be a long night.

You grab the papers off Peña’s desk, carry them to the far end of the office, not your normal desk, and begin typing up his notes into a formal report. Your normal desk was upstairs outside the Ambassador’s office, being one of his attachés meant you traveled with him in-country and helped during his posting at his discretion. You were one of his favorite attachés and that came with a lot of perks; always flying with him and his family in the private jet instead of slumming it in commercial, a plant-covered, sun-lit desk by the window, and always being trusted with the most confidential of orders.

Unfortunately for you, lately, his orders had you spending long-nights with the feckless DEA agents trying to make orderly, lawful reports of their chaotic and illicit methods to catch the narcos. The ambassador trusted few else but you to spin their lawless nonsense into cohesive accounts with diplomatically-acceptable language. You knew your long hours were appreciated - by the Ambassador if by no one else - and you really didn’t have much of a life outside of work, so it wasn’t the worst problem to have. Besides, working late came with its own set of perks.

---

You’re not sure how much time has passed but as you wrap up typing Peña’s chicken-scratch, you look up to see if Murphy is anywhere close to being done only to find him not at his desk. You wait a few minutes and when he still hasn’t returned you get up and walk past it. His desk is more centrally located than the one you were using and from here you can see the whole office. The coffee cup sits empty, the ashtray overflowing, his coat hanging limply from his chair. But no Murphy. You walk towards the main entrance, pass the department secretary’s desk, call out his name, and receive no answer in return.

Just as you’re about to turn and go back to your work, you see just a fraction of movement out of the corner of your eye. The blinds in Messina’s office just beyond the secretarial desk are all closed except the ones covering the window on the door, which are raised just a fraction.

Is he? Again? He must like this more than you thought.

You make your way to the DEA lead’s office door and test the knob - unlocked - just like you knew it would be. Pushing the door open slowly and flipping on the lights has you greeted with a groan. It’s Murphy, sitting on his boss’s leather office couch, cock in hand.

“When we say you DEA boys do nothing but sit around all day with your dicks in your hands, this isn’t what we mean,” you tease. He doesn’t even try to cover himself, doesn’t make a move to hide what he’s doing. This is definitely part of it. He likes this. You’ll have to play your part. “What kind of a man has to jerk off at work? Things really that bad at home?”

He groans again, and you watch his big right hand squeezing himself at the base of his thick cock. You’re not sure how long he’s been in here but he’s apparently just been edging himself, if the ruddy head and pearlescent beads leaking from his tip are any indication. Just based on the size of him you always thought he might have a respectable dick, but the fact that it still looks massive, even in his giant fucking hands, is even more impressive.

“Sorry you had to catch me like this,” he grumbles, as if he didn’t orchestrate this entire scenario for that very reason. He hasn’t resumed touching himself, he just holds it - enormous and erect - like an obelisk of flesh.

“I don’t think you are sorry, you filthy pervert.” You close the door behind you and walk to Messina’s desk, sitting on the edge of it facing him. “I think you fucking love getting caught with that big cock out, don’t you?”

He sucks air and squeezes even tighter as you watch the clear precum flowing out of his slit and running over his flushed head.

“C’mon, Murphy,” you begin to slowly unbutton your blouse. “You’d better get it over with before more people walk in here and see that big, fat cock of yours.”

Almost like he was waiting for your permission, he begins pumping himself, using the viscous liquid running down his shaft to lubricate his strokes. You untuck your blouse and pull it off completely, folding it next to you on the desk while you watch him - completely dressed - jerking off. Aside from his loosened tie thrown over his shoulder, he’s still wearing the same outfit he came to work in, not even the blood-spattered sleeves of his rumpled white dress shirt have been rolled up. Just like last time, and each time before that, the only skin he’s showing you are his hands, wrapped around his dick and balls.

You pull your eyes away from what his hands are doing and make eye contact with him, seeing him break away to watch you undo your bra, letting it fall slowly down your arms to reveal your breasts to him. You set it next to you on the desk and sit back on your hands, sticking your chest to the sky. He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he speaks.

“Gonna take more than that, honey. Do it like last time.” And there it is, the first time he’s acknowledged that this is a repeat occurrence.

Like last time. You’d thought last time might have gone too far, thought maybe you’d scared him off, especially since it was weeks ago that it’d happened. But apparently not. Apparently it wasn’t too much. Apparently it was just enough… and he’s been thinking about it happening again.

You stand up off the desk, slowly pulling down on the zipper at the back of your skirt, letting your breasts push forwards while your hands work behind you. You watch as he licks his lips, tugging slowly up and down his shaft, gently squeezing his balls with his left hand. You pull your skirt down your legs, folding it and placing it with your other clothes next to you. You stick your fingers in the waistband of your pantyhose and underwear - the only clothes you have left on - and watch him slowly nod his head, eyes glued to your center, ready and waiting.

You slowly pull down your remaining garments, feeling the relative chill of the office air hitting your bare cunt as you bend forward. Once the hose is at your ankles you turn around to brace yourself on the desk, giving him the view you were just denying him. He moans, lowly. You bend forward, a hand on the desk, and slip off each shoe one by one, pulling the hose and your underwear over each foot. You finally stand to place them on the desk with everything else and then turn back to face the couch.

He’s slowed down so much his hand is barely moving now, just brushing languidly over the head of his cock, smearing the steady flow leaking out. You sit back on the desk and slowly, so slowly, spread your legs open. You hear him growl a yeahhh in response. “This what you wanted, Murphy?” You tease.

“You know what I want,” he whines through clenched teeth, “so give it to me.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to give me orders, you fuckin’ creep,” you snap, knowing it goes straight to his cock by the way his left hand tightens on his balls.

You oblige him anyways, knowing you need this just as badly as he does at this point. You take the middle finger of your dominant hand and run it up and down your slit, lips parting easily since you’re already so wet. You’ve probably been wet since you noticed he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring earlier. Maybe the rumors about Connie leaving the country were true, maybe his marriage is actually over. So if that’s his excuse for being a horny pervert, what was yours?

You tease your finger over your hole, spreading your legs wider so he can see every slick movement you make. You drag your wetness up to your clit and part your folds with your other hand, drawing smooth circles around your sensitive bud.

“You’d better hurry up, you disgusting deviant, because I’m leaving the second I come,” you command.

You don’t bother to wait for him to look you in the eye to measure your sincerity, you just increase the pace and pressure of your finger and throw your head back, moaning in ecstasy. You can hear him speed up his movements, can hear the sound of skin on skin schlocking quicker as he chases his release. Last time didn’t take long. Last time you got a few circles over your clit and he was coming all over his pale-yellow dress shirt. Last time you had to finish yourself at home, reduced to fantasizing about his cock while you cried out alone in your bed.

The thought has you changing course. Maybe you can actually come this time, if not before him at least the sound of his grunting orgasm could push you over the edge. It won’t be too much, right? He’s gonna get off - again - so why shouldn't you? You drag your fingers back to your hole, leaking wetness down your thighs. He makes a sharp intake of breath. Your head is still thrown back but he’s clearly watching you. You slowly insert two fingers, coating them with your wetness and then pumping them faster in and out.

The sounds of your fingers squelching in and out of your wet hole fill the room now, drowning out his pistoning hand and huffing breaths. It’s probably why you don’t hear him get off the couch, don’t hear him walk to the desk, don't hear him panting right in front of you. You don’t even know he’s there until the heat of his left hand is spanning across the inside of your thigh, halfway between your knee and your core.

You lift your head quickly, a sharp intake of breath instead of a scream, and see his nearly-black eyes watching your faltering hand with rapt attention.

“Can you fit a third?” he rasped. “I bet you can.” Your pussy clenches around your fingers.

You know a snappy quip wouldn’t go amiss but for some reason - with the heat of his hand matching the heat of his gaze - you can’t seem to get one past your lips. You drag your fingers out slowly and line up a third with the other two, already soaked and dripping. Steadily, you insert them back in your greedy hole as he squeezes your thigh - his massive grip taking up an obscene amount of real estate on your leg - and brings himself so close that you can feel his moving knuckles wafting cool air over your wet lips.

His dick is so fucking close. It would be so easy for him to just fucking stick it inside you. But he’s married. That’s what he’d made sure to say the first time… and the second. I’m married, as if it meant anything to you. Just help me out, he’d begged, and you were more than willing. Just a married guy needing a pretty, eager girl to look at. You’d been dreaming about Steve Murphy’s dick since he wore a tight pair of jeans his second week here, and you got a glimpse of the massive bulge he had hidden in them. Well, it was hard to hide, and now you know why.

But then you remember - eyes darting to his left hand, still hot on your skin - he’s not wearing his wedding ring.

“You ever fuck a woman with that cock, Murphy? Or just your hand?”

The sound that comes out of his mouth can only be described as a whimper. He moves his hand up your thigh, closer to where you want it, and squeezes your flesh again. His fist is making practiced moves over his length, starting mid-shaft where his girth widens and pushing up over his crown with fluttering fingers. He’s giving himself pressure on the underside where he’s most sensitive, then gathering the constant stream spilling down his cockhead and over his knuckles, and spreading it out on his downstroke. You feel him press in closer, so close, his eyes not wavering from your fingers plunging in and out of your sopping hole.

Then, it happens.

He’s moved so close that his knuckles graze along your spread lips, hitting right at your clit - four in a row - like the brief kiss of a vibrator. You almost scream. And Murphy notices. Oh, does he notice. Your movements have come to a halt, as have his, and you both wait to see what the other does next. A sly grin settles across his face.

“I thought you were in a hurry?” He taunts.

He pushes his left hand down into your thigh - spreading you open to your limit - and takes his right hand off his dick. He grabs your hand by the wrist, pulling your fingers out of you with a wet, suctioning noise. You watch him put your hand onto his dick, covering it with his much larger hand, and spread your own shocking wetness down and back up his shaft. He lets your hand go but before it can resume its place inside you, he’s closed the gap, pushing his pelvis forward, bouncing his cock against your hooded clit, causing you to twitch at the sensation.

“You’d better hurry up and come, honey, before Javi comes back to see you spread eagle like this.”

“Fuck you,” you manage to choke, hating how he thinks he has the upper hand now.

He stops tapping his rounded head on your sensitive bud and instead rubs himself left to right, the change in movement hitting you like a lightning bolt.

“You’d better come before I do, naughty girl,” he continues to tease, echoing your earlier demand.

“So give it to me,” you answer, echoing his.

He pushes forward, cock held tightly in his fist, and fits his wide head into your hole, making you gasp. You brace for the rest of it - the stretch, the sting - but it never comes. You wiggle your hips, even tilt your pelvis towards him the little bit you can from your position on the desk, and all you feel is his fist hitting your sticky lips.

“Murphy.”

His stupid fucking grin. Hmmmm? He’s watching you struggle.

“Quit playing around,” you whine.

“Quit playin’ around,” he repeats. He lifts his dick upwards, popping it out of its shallow entry, then slowly lines it back up, bumping around clumsily - on purpose - before putting just the tip back inside you.

“Fuck you, Murphy,” you hiss.

“Fuck me?” He repeats the motion of popping himself out, poking around, and then giving you just a fraction of what you know he could be giving you.

“Fuck me, Murphy, fuck me.” You throw your head back as he goes through the motions a third time. “Please, Murphy. Please fuck me.”

He lines himself up again at your weeping hole, but this time you feel both of his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips. He pulls you down onto him and pushes himself up into you in equal measure, slowly but steadily filling you up. You hear him groaning, hear yourself whining, high-pitched and strung-out. You feel the sting, you feel the stretch, you feel the weight of him pressing into you until his pelvis bumps yours. You’re both watching where he’s disappeared into you, the silence stretching on.

“You ready for this big fuckin’ cock, honey?”

“I’ve had bigger,” you lie.

He pulls back quickly and slams forward into you, rocking the desk you lie on, and knocking over a cup of pencils. You both ignore them clattering onto the floor as he pounds into you relentlessly. The wet smacking noise of your bodies clapping together, the huffing groans coming out of both your mouths, the smell of sweat and sex and coffee. He fills you up so perfectly, hitting every place deep inside you that you never even knew existed. It’s so much better than it was in your fantasies. You reach down to touch your clit and this time it’s you that comes after only a few circles around it.

You can’t fucking help yourself. His bloody knuckles turned white with their tight grip at your hips, his furrowed brow and utter concentration - pupils blown large - staring at himself fucking your cunt, his grunts of pleasure as he finally finally gives you his fat fucking cock. You cry out his name, feeling yourself clench around his length, flooding him with your release, hearing the sounds change from lewd to obscene. And you watch his face go from focused to downright pained.

He pulls himself out of you with a snarl and pumps his cock overtop you - coming immediately - white ropes covering your belly. He groans through it, continuing to cover you with a surprising amount, then leans over you and with his cock in hand, rubbing it into your skin with his dick. He rubs his cock back and forth, pumping it lazily, rubbing his sensitive head against your sticky skin and continuing to shudder from the overstimulation. Once he’s squeezed the last of his climax out, he steps back and tucks his dick away into his pants.

---

“Sorry again,” he mumbles, running his hand through his hair as you redress on shaky legs. “I really oughta stop doin’ this shit at work. It’s inappropriate, like you said.”

“Uh huhhh,” you answer, unconvinced.

You wish you had it in you to continue this little charade but you’ve just orgasmed all over someone’s desk and your cock-drunk little mind is having difficulty making sense of anything right now. You reach down to slip on a shoe and although you were bracing yourself on the desk, you still begin to tip over. Murphy catches you with a gentle but firm grip, his huge hand curling around your arm and settling you upright. His hand remains holding you, the heat of it burning you through your blouse.

“Maybe next time we can just go to my place,” he purrs, meeting your surprised look with a wink.

Boyd Tax: handsssss

#boyd-a-thon #boydo #fic event #boyd holbrook #boyd holbrook smut #boyd bungalow ☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️#steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #narcos fanfiction #mutual

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aurorawritestoescape · 1 month

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SUNSET || Boyfriend!Billy x f!reader || 1,5k

Summary: Billy takes you to watch the sunset. You don’t see much of it.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, SUP board sex, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, in public, anal play, swearing, multiple orgasms

A/n: for @toxicanonymity with eternal love and respect♥️ also it’s my humble contribution to boyd-a-thon, an event with a great cause. Check it out and take part if you’d like<3

Inspired by || Hot Billy video / gifs by @ilovewhiteroses - Skeleton Twins (2014) || Beach Walks prequel and Beach Walks by @toxicanonymity - Night Walks AU < READ IT

Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing || Gif in the moodboard by @ithinkwehitametaphor thank you!<3

*****

You’re watching the sunset slowly change the color of the sky - the blues melt into all shades of pink. Gentle waves of the ocean are swaying the sup board under you, lulling you into a peaceful haze. You’re leaning against Billy, his warm bare chest flush with your back, legs framing yours submerged in water. His arms are wrapped around your middle, your fingers are tangled, as you two are watching the sun slowly fall into the ocean.

To be honest you’d rather enjoy it from a nice beach cafe but Billy said it’s going to be “bloody romantic" and you couldn’t say ‘no’.

Refusing him anything was a challenge for you. Always loving and attentive to your needs he also possessed an ability to persuade you into doing whatever he wanted just with a rise of his brow or his sweet boyish smile.

The date was going really romantic like he promised. And then it got hot.

His hands leave yours and slide down from your waist to your naked thighs. He gives them a light squeeze waking you up from your peaceful trance.

“It’s beautiful, Billy,” you whisper, slightly turning your head to look at him in your peripheral vision. His hand catches your chin and he gently guides your mouth towards his and kisses you. His lips are salty and a little cold and your shiver in his arms.

“Ya cold, love?” He asks, parting from you and rubbing your arms. “Told ya to wear the dry suit,”

his arms envelop you and he presses you closer to his body, warming you up.

“I’m ok, Billy,” you hastily say, missing his mouth on yours. You reach up and he kisses you again. His tongue breaches your lips and the heat of his mouth makes your pussy flutter. Feeling cold just a second ago now you’re burning up for him.

You purr into his mouth and he smirks.

“Fuck, really? here?” His tone is playful but something hot and heavy lies underneath.

You feel your cheeks burn and turn your face away from him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed. Not moving your head, you look around. There’s a few people quite far from you also watching the setting sun.

“Ya sure?” Billy whispers in your ear making your skin erupt in goosebumps. “You can ride me right here, the board’s wide and steady.”

You giggle and shake your head but the image of you bouncing on his cock right here in the ocean makes you gush into your bikini bottoms.

Billy knows that sometimes all you need is just some encouragement, a gentle push.

So his hands stroke your thighs which are spread widely around the board and move to your tingling center. His thumb brushes your covered clit and a whimper crawls up your throat,

“Billy…”

“Hmm..?,” the only thing he says before moving your bottoms to the side and looking down over your shoulder at your glistening pussy.

“Would ya look at that,” he smirks and rubs your shoulder with his chin.

A warm breeze hits your exposed pussy and you buck your hips driven by a sudden surge of desire. You don’t care if people can see you anymore.

“That’s my girl,” Billy praises you, noticing your impatience.

He dips his hand in the water and brings it wet and slightly cold to your heated pussy. You wince from the drop of temperature but the sensation makes you moan and bite your lower lip.

Billy gently rubs your cunt with his whole palm, then places two fingers on your clit and slowly swirls them around your hardening bud.

“Don’t miss the sunset, sweetheart,” he purrs into your ear and you whine, turning into a pliant mess under his skillful touch.

The sun is submerging in water now, sky bursting with colors, but all you can focus on is how Billy’s rubbing your clit in tight circles, gently at first and then faster and with added pressure.

His other hand pulls your top down and he kneads your breast and twitches your nipple, arm crossing your torso and pressing you to him.

You turn your face in search of his lips and he’s eager to give you another heady kiss .

His mouth and his hands playing with your pussy and breasts are bringing you closer to a climax with every second.

In a few moments you are shaking in his arms, back arched, as waves of ecstasy are rippling through your body. Your whimpers are mixing with the sounds of the giant ocean around you.

When the climax subsides you slump into Billy’s embrace and he lets you rest for a few minutes while his hands trail up and down your arms and thighs.

“Can I fuck ya now, love?” he says, and his question sounds more like a statement, he knows you’ll let him do anything to you right now. But only after your breathy ‘yeah’, he puts his hand between your shoulder blades and gently pushes you.

“Lie down for me, sweetheart,”

“Why..?” You start asking but do as you’re told. Your naked breasts get squished by the cold surface of the board and you shiver again.

Now you’re lying on your front, thighs spread widely, legs still submerged in water from your knee down, right cheek pressed to the board. Your arousal returns with a new force and you whimper, grinding your pussy against the hard surface.

“Yeah, good girl,” Billy notices slight rolls of your hips and his hands start kneading your spread asscheeks.

“Lemme see you, sweetheart.”

He hooks his index finger into the back of your bikini bottoms and pulls the fabric to the side. You feel exposed offering your holes for him to use and they flutter when Billy slides his fingers up from your clit to your tight ring.

“Beautiful,” he mutters and pushes his digits inside your dripping pussy. You feel a dull ache of the stretch so it must be two. You’re so wet they slide in easily and the ache immediately turns into pleasure.

He pumps his fingers in and out a few times and then, not pulling out, turns his palm down to rub your clit with his thumb.

“Billy, please…” you plead and his digits freeze inside your pussy.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, I want your cock..”

He chuckles but you hear how turned on he is in the pitch of his voice.

“Want me to fuck your cunt? Right here? But people might see us, eh?”

You know he’s testing you but your mind is hazy thanks to the recent climax and his fingers which are still knuckle deep inside you.

“Don’t care…need you, Billy.”

“Alright.”

He pulls his fingers out gently so as not to hurt you. You hear the shuffling of his swim trunks and feel a slap of his cock on your ass cheek. His hand grabs your hip as the hot fat head of his cock nudges your clenching hole.

He pushes the crown into you and moans. You love this sound so much and love him for never hiding his pleasure.

Your pussy slowly sucks his cock in but you’re impatient so you plant your hands on the board and push yourself back helping him to impale you.

“Oh, fuck. You want it that bad, love, eh..? He says and chokes on his words when he bottoms out. You feel his thighs flush with yours, his happy trail tickling your asshole.

He starts rolling his hips against your pussy, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. Your lips parted, eyes rolled back, you’re moaning and breathing out soft ‘yes’s.

He groans with you, fingers digging into your thighs, until you feel the pad of his thumb pressed against your asshole.

“Hmm?” He asks and you nod, relaxing your muscle. He slowly pushes the thumb in. You gasp but still try to keep yourself loose for him.

“Fuck, your holes look so pretty plugged up. Gonna fuck your ass tonight, ‘k?”

You barely hear him, lost in the pleasure, overwhelmed by how full you feel with his big cock and thick finger inside you.

Billy’s free hand grasps your hip for leverage and he starts hammering into your pussy.

The board shakes but it’s still steady on the water. You close your eyes and let yourself drown in the feeling of the vast ocean under you, Billy’s cock ruining your pussy, his thumb hooked inside your asshole.

Your second climax hits you hard as you tremble against the board, suffocating on this ecstasy.

“Yeah, choke it..,” Billy groans and quickly follows you, spurting his hot cum inside your clenching pussy.

You’re spasming around his length, milking him till the last drop. Billy gives you one more sharp thrust and then stills inside you. His thumb leaves your tight ring and he covers your body with his, not pulling his cock out. His weight on you is comforting and pleasant.

You both revel in the afterglow of your orgasms as the last rays of sun dissolve on the horizon.

“Billy..?” You break the silence and he hums and kisses your shoulder in response. “Bet you’re happy I didn’t wear my dry suit, huh?”

He chuckles and then slides into the water pulling you with him.

*****

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated💖🌸

#boyd holbrook fic #boyd holbrook smut #billy skeleton twins #toxicanonymity ☠️#boyd bungalow ☠️#billy x reader #boyd holbrook #billy x you #the skeleton twins #Boyd-a-thon #fic event #smut #f!reader

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hexidous · 9 months

Text

Give And Take

Inspired by the Raider Joel series by @toxicanonymity - Alt version of part 7: Company

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Summary: Joel brings back someone new, expecting to make you jealous. He’s forced to find a new way to punish you when you have too much fun.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, non con, dub con, fingering, scissoring kind of, threesome, FFM, PIV, death.

HC: Joel’s bitch, the bisexual switch

Word count: 1.3k

“You’re sick,” the girl whimpers at Joel. “Shoot him!” she demands of you. “What are you waiting for?? SHOOT HIM!”

"I’ll try to make it good for you,” you say in a half whisper.

You stalk forward, gun heavy in your hand. You look at her, genuinely, for the first time. Her hair looks soft in the dim lighting, her eyes wide with fear. As you reach the dingy cot she kicks at you, screaming, “Get away from me!”

A surge of anger rushes through you. “And here I was going to be nice,” you hiss, subconsciously channeling Joel. You grab her ankle while pointing the gun at her head, slowly moving your fingers up her inner thigh.

“Damn, baby,” you hear him chuckle from behind you.

His words give you confidence. The power you have over her, that he’s given you, sets off a pulse between your thighs.

Well this is unexpected, you think as you feel the familiar dull throb in your pussy. You’re surprised at how turned on you are at the sick scenario unfolding before you.

Keeping your gaze locked on her teary eyes, you strike a quick back hand across her cheek. You climb over her, pressing the heavy, cold barrel against her temple and bring two of your fingers to her lips. “Be gentle, baby, or this is the last thing you’ll do.”

Her face twists in anger as she sucks your fingers, her tongue caressing the slit where they meet. Your breaths become more labored as you feel your wetness begin to drip between your thighs. “Good girl,” you whisper.

You hear Joel move closer behind you, swallowing the distance in two long strides. His fingers seek out your pathetically sopping cunt, groaning as he easily slips two inside.

“Having fun?” He asks, the smile on his face coming through clear in his deep, gravelly voice. He fucks his fingers in and out of you in time with the pace you set your fingers in his prisoner’s mouth.

“Yeah, maybe,” you respond in a daze. He curls his fingers roughly, sending yours in too deep, resulting in a gag from your new toy.

“Do you want to be nice yet?” you ask, feeling your lips curl into a cruel smirk.

She nods enthusiastically, a look of fear and lust in her eyes you easily recognizable.

You pull the gun back from her head. “No sudden moves, ok?” She nods again, her chest rising and falling quickly.

You drag the gun up and down over her clothed cunt as Joel continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. You angle the barrel to push just barely into her covered pussy and drag it up enough to catch her clit. Her breath hitches and she arches her back.

“I think she likes you, baby,” Joel breathes into your ear. He pulls his fingers out and you give a disappointed huff.

You hear Joel’s unzip his pants, pull his cock out and stroke it slowly.

“What do you want from her, sweet pea?” He asks in a strained whisper.

You look down at her, meeting her watering eyes, settling on her trembling lips. She’s terrified of what you may answer. But maybe a little excited. The thought alone sends a twisted chill down your spine.

You stroke her bottom lip with your thumb, entranced by the way she closes her eyes and leans into your touch.

“I want to see more,” you finally reply, eyeing her body, hidden within tattered and bloodied clothes.

“You head her,” Joel snaps, the change in tone and volume startling you both.

She gets to work quickly, shedding her soiled wears piece by piece until she’s completely naked.

“That what you wanted?” Joel growls.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, gliding your fingers over her soft skin.

She shudders as you reach her nipples, so you to pay even more attention to them. You drag your lips and tongue over her breasts as your hand ventures lower.

Fuck, she’s wet, you think as you delicately insert a finger into her pussy. She bucks into your hand, grinding her clit into your palm.

Why the fuck is this turning me on so much, you wonder as you feel your own pussy clench around nothing, weeping for any sort of contact.

“Get on top of her,” Joel commands, noticing your growing excitement.

You mount her without thinking, staring deep into her eyes. Maybe you were trying to make yourself feel better about the situation, but you could have sworn she met your gaze with the same amount of lust.

You have your legs straddling her hips and Joel’s knees pushing her legs further apart from behind you. He lines himself up with your desperate hole and buries himself inside you, pushing you hips down and grinding your clit against hers.

You both cry out from the contact. Joel’s unrelenting pace keeps your desperate cunt rocking into hers, the pleasure undeniable from either party.

Joel’s arm snakes around you and roughly palms one of her breasts, the flesh spilling around his large, dirty hands. You bring one of your own more delicate hands to her other, marveling at the difference in size. You become intoxicated at the feeling of being fucked into another woman. With any other man you’re sure you would have hated this, but as Joel slams into you your entire world is consumed by lust.

You feel a bite at the crook of your neck, Joel’s teeth sinking deep and marking you as his. He strokes the back of your hair before curling his fingers and tugging backwards, exposing more of your neck to him.

He licks a slow line up to your jaw, and with how transfixed on him the woman below is, you know he’s got his intense gaze fixed upon her. You almost feel jealous again but the tightening coil in your center snuffs it out quickly.

You feel the hand tangled in your hair push you downwards. Like dolls he’s playing with, he takes you both by the back of the head and forces your faces together.

You both resist at first until she moans into your mouth and you take the opportunity to lunge your tongue in. She uses her hand for the first time to grip your hair and you brace yourself for a fight, but you’re pleasantly surprised when she holds you closer and bucks her hips into yours.

She thrusts her hips into yours desperately. You reach down and hook two fingers into her wet little hole, giving her what she needs to find her release.

Her moans in your mouth and orgasm against your pussy combined with Joel’s vicious thrusts rapidly send you over the edge.

Joel watches and feels you cum with her and he can’t hold back any longer. He pushes you roughly into your new companion, spilling his seed with a feral grunt and a few more slow pulses.

You collapse beside the woman you hated less than an hour ago. She curls into your side and without really thinking about it, you stroke her hair. You extend an arm for Joel to join you on the tiny, stained mattress.

Instead of collapsing into your arms as you had foolishly hoped, he grabs you by the elbow, cruelly ripping you from your embrace to stand face to face with him.

You meet his eyes, wincing at the fire and brimstone set deep within. In your ecstasy you forgot who you now were. Who you belonged to.

The weight of the situation settles back onto the woman you knew so intimately moments ago.

“No,” she cries softly. “Please.”

“Can’t we let her go?” You ask meekly, tears threatening to run down your cheeks again, the pleasure and torment caused by this man exhausting you to the core.

“She’s seen too much,” he responds coldly. “I’ll give her a nicer end than any of my men will.”

You hang your head, knowing there’s not an argument to be had. Your head is swimming but you faintly hear her try to bargain her way into living a little longer. Her hand manages to grasp yours and you turn to meet her eyes one last time before Joel thrusts a knife into her neck. You hold her hand until it falls limply from your own, watching until her eyes glaze over, no longer registering yours.

He sought to teach you a lesson, and whether it be through jealousy or grief, the message came across loud and clear: You were his and his alone.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x reader x OC

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