#aging these cunts they’ve been in their early 20s for far too long

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

already got some timeskip designs lined up for dragons rising please let there be a timeskip

[joeloverture]

comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n] word count: 2.7k a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).

It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.

You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.

It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.

FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.

If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.

Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.

Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.

“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.

“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”

Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”

“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”

Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.

“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”

The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.

Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”

Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can. 

“I– what?”

“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.

Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck. 

You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”

“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.

There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.

Dead fucking end.

An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.

“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.

You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.

“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists. 

All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–

“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–

You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.

Stupid. Fucking. Idea.

Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.

“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.

He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–

“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”

“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”

You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”

Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.

You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.

Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.

You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.

The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.

Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.

“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.

A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.

You still.

Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.

He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.

“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”

You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs. 

Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.

You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.

Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.

He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper. 

You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–

Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you. 

The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire. 

Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?” 

He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.

“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”

[ramons7161849616-blog]

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If you're looking for the good stuff, it starts about halfway through. I came home from school early one day and there they were, in the living room, going at it. But I think you might enjoy reading this from the beginning. I celebrated my forty-second birthday about two weeks ago and still occasionally think about that. I did however, think about it, on and off during my teenage years, if you know what I mean. Ellen, that was her name, made me promise not to tell our parents. When I was young, I saw an older man, must have been in his forties, fuck my sister, who was nineteen. If you didn't, please let me know why This story takes a little while to set up. If you enjoy this story, please let me know why. I'm kind of loud and my mouth tends to have a mind of its own. I've never married, but I have had many girlfriends. I promised and we never spoke of it again. Probably because it has been a bit of a sexual obsession of mine since then, if you haven't figured that out yet. Some were my age, but mostly they've been younger than me. I'm not particularly good looking. I'm balding and I have what can best be described as a mildly brash personality. Or, rather, it tends to speak my mind without going through any sort of filters. For some unknown reason, younger women seem to like me. What matters is how I feel about it and I feel that I have now reached the age that I always imagined that hairy dude who was fucking my sister was. In my mind, that means that I now need to fuck as many eighteen year old women as possible. That doesn't really matter. This brings me to the beginning of my story, which happened last weekend. This was one of those weekends, and by the time I got out of the station, I was exhausted. Depending on your own age while reading this, at forty-two I either reached "older man" status a long time ago, or I'm not even close to being "older". This particular friend has had a history of relationship problems and he's been there when I've needed him, so I agreed. He asked if we could hit the Lion and Whistle pub downtown, a place we'd been in the past, but not recently. I just wanted to go home, but a buddy of mine called and said he really needed to talk. The idea of an older man having sex with a younger woman turns me the fuck on, and now I finally am that older man. That was usually my starting drink. Why did I tell you about that afternoon in my younger years? I'm a disc jockey at a rock radio station and once a month I work weekends. By the time I had my second Ketel video one porn (vodka always followed Whiskey), I had an inkling that perhaps he wasn't going to be showing up and I started to get a little ticked off. She was alone, and my mind instantly went places the minds of forty-two year old men shouldn't go when they see a girl of that age. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen and she had bright pink and purple hair. Why was she alone, I thought? To be truthful, though, while eighteen would be nice, at this point in my life, anyone between eighteen and about thirty will do. I walked in and looked around. I don't have many of them, but I like to start with a whiskey. Was she, too, waiting for someone? Our eyes met and we gave each other a polite smile and nod. He wasn't there yet, so I ordered myself a Jameson. That was when I noticed her. She noticed me at that point. I felt a little awkward so I turned away and ordered another vodka. "We were supposed to meet at 8:30". I downed it pretty quickly and looked back. " "I was, but my bitch girlfriend seems to be taking her sweet, fucking time," she said. By vodka number four, I had gathered up the courage to walk over. "A buddy of mine was supposed to meet me here at about 8:00. "Are you waiting for someone? In fact, I'm pretty sure that on weeknights, when the deejay is off, this bar has our radio station on. It was a couple of years old, but was in our current rotation at the station. A band we play on a regular basis. As she said that, I felt her foot touching mine. "'Disturbed' is my current favorite," she said. My face got a little inquisitive. oh I don't know what I was. " Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold started playing and her head began bobbing when the drums fired up. Does that make you feel any better. Her eyes were still on me, as if they had never left. Despite my joking tone, she pulled out her driver's license. " Her foot moved up to my calf. "Fuck, they let me in the bar so I'm at least eighteen," she said. I like other shit like dubstep 'n' stuff, but I'm mostly into metal. " "License and registration, ma'am," I said, jokingly. "You seem to be alone", I yelled over the music. I was starting to get a bit of a boner. I looked at it and then at her, as if I was a cop. Her hand moved to her blouse and she traced a finger from just below her throat down into her cleavage. "Happy birthday," I hd free porn videos said. "No, but I do want to taste your cum. She was indeed twenty-three. "Same here," I yelled. There was a streetlamp about 20 yards away. She had smallish breasts, but from my vantage point they'd fit nicely into my hands. " That turned my 'bit of a boner' into a full-fledged, raging hard-on. It was a cool fall evening but even so, without speaking, she unzipped her jeans, wriggled them down to her ankles, hiked up her blouse and leaned forward slightly against the brick wall, offering herself to me from behind. The next five minutes were a bit of a blur, but we ended up in an alley not far from the bar. It cast a little bit of light our way, enough to barely see each other, but not enough to let anyone else know we were there. Without saying a word, I unzipped my fly, got my cock out through my underwear and quickly slipped on a condom. Fuck, she was nearly dripping. I put my hand between her legs, sliding my index and middle fingers from the bottom of her pussy to her clit, to determine her level of 'readiness'. In fact her birthday was last week. " We smiled at each other and her leg rose from my calf to my thigh. Not unless they were within whispering distance anyway. "Nghhhhh," as I slid my fingers out. "Mmmmm," as I slid two fingers inside her pussy. She pushed her ass towards me as I removed my fingers, wanting me to slip them back inside. I finger fucked her for a few seconds and she let out soft moans as I did. "Do you want another drink," I asked, my eyes pointing at her empty beer glass. She was 'ready' all right. " I spread her pussy lips with my fingers and inserted myself melanie rios hd porn videos hd porn videos into her. "Unhhhh," she groaned as I slowly increased the pace. I slowly began to thrust into her, both my hands on her beautiful round, young ass to steady myself. Suddenly, I realized I needed to feel her with my hand. She seemed to like this. I went to her pubic area and realized she was completely clean shaven. I stimulated her clit while wriggling my cock inside her for a while, but soon it became clear that she needed to have have my hard shaft go in and out of her pussy again. I positioned one hand on the wall we were fucking against to steady myself and with the other I began to explore. I fucked her and moved my hand up her belly to her chest. What I hadn't imagined was how firm and pert they'd feel. They were, as I'd imagined earlier in the bar, a perfect handful. I took a break from thrusting and instead pushed my cock deep inside and wriggled around a little as I felt her mound and went for her clit. I moved my hand from breast to breast, cupping them and taking her nipples hd free porn videos between my thumb and index finger, which still had a little pussy juice on it. "Your cock," she breathed. I slipped my fingers inside of her cunt and felt her welcome me, nearly pulling my hand inside. Cum," she said rhythmically. "Fuck me hard," she half-whispered, half-grunted. She began letting out short, sharp "uh" sounds and I could tell I was about to make her cum. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. My first spurt came inside the condom, inside her cunt. " And, with that, I couldn't hold it in any longer. Then I quickly pulled out and pulled off the condom and finished cumming on her ass. It was hard and it was perfect. Even through the condom, her pussy warmed my penis, which, unused to the outdoors, was a bit chilled. Then, she stood up, pulled up her jeans, straightened her blouse and walked away. and her nipple, oh her nipple. I was about at the tipping point and she seemed to be as well. Using my cock I rubbed my semen into her ass cheeks, then with my hands I spread my warm creamy cum up under her blouse and around her back. Although, I have thought about her since, if you know what I mean. "Fuck, that was nice," I said. That was the last time I ever saw her. Nghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I stood there stunned for a few seconds before zipping myself up.