thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea- if people like this I might make it into a fun little series
Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.
warnings: reader is crazy, joel is a non willing participant-- at first. heavy on the non-con/dub-con. Eventual punishment, cockwarming, snuggling, pet names (for joel) unprotected p in v. so many more if I keep going with this.
This is just a little drabble I wrote to go along with that stupid thing I made in canva.
Girl Dinner <- the first installment.
Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings, and he's trying to let you know.
He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair by ropes that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists.
You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna be nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"
His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot scream, his voice muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth. Clad in only boxer shorts, a thin t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.
It's so fucking sexy.
He's still really mad; which sucked!
"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, honey," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.
Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.
Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.
Soon.
Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.
He's just gotta wear something else first.
You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.
He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.
"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.
He's going to try-- he always does.
Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.
"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around your neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."
To be continued...?
tagging people that showed interest--- @lilac-boo @gothcsz @sp00kymulderr @xdaddysprincessxx @pedrospookie @almostempty @creepycorbeaux
