[sweetplea]

꒰ྀི১ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 ໒꒱ིྀ anaïs / ani. twenty-four years young, jasmine ‘n vanilla scented, certified kitty girl, east coast brat <𝟑 .ᐟ blog links = coming soon. my most recent post. 18+, minors do not interact. this blog supports and creates taboo content. ₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 🐈‍⬛ @kittybehavior 4 visuals — @popepout 4 more …

[sweetplea]

hi baby i just discovered ur account whilst trying to find other bullseye writers and i gotta say you are the perfect and most beautiful variant of perverted that i just have to applaud🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 my brother just another me. i hope u have a good day bae ur an amazing writer

cliterally purring rn, this is so sweet !!! PERVERTS RISE UP. thank you so much sweetums, please have a great day / night xoxo 💋

[sweetplea]

need to start an AU where reader is basically dex’s housecat …

[sweetplea]

giving dex permission to take his anger out on you—

content <𝟑 .ᐟ f!reader, pain play / kink, obsession, casual dominance, impact play -> consensual face slapping, crying, mention of manipulation, use of sir / sir kink.

he’s hesitant. hurting you has never been his prerogative … even when his obsession with you was at its scariest. if anything, he’s only ever wanted to shelter you from all of the pain and terrible nonsense that the world has to offer. sure, he can fully understand why you would want such a thing. he’s observant, he can see the little gleam in your eyes when he’s extra rough on you. but you seem almost alarmingly into the idea of him slapping you around and using you as a stress toy just because he can. it’s making you restless.

clearly you’ve learned to feel out his moods, you’ve discovered when the perfect times to talk back and huff and whine are. a part of him wants to praise you for being such a clever girl, albeit manipulative. he isn’t bothered by your pitiful attempts at getting him to snap, he can settle you down with a single stern look sometimes. at the end of the day, he has the upper hand. you’re the one waiting for him to give in with that same semipermanent pout on your face.

“little fuckin’ masochist,” he grumbles to himself when you’re done clinging to his arm and you’re out of earshot for the moment, huffing on a laugh that he can’t seem to hold back.

of course it happens when you least expect it. weeks later when it’s off of your mind completely— on a day where benjamin isn’t able to scratch that itch, a day where his fingers twitched to do something else even after bruising his knuckles under his gloves.

the sound of him undoing the locks on the front door forces your ears to perk up. his bulky boots meet the floor with each and every heavy step, your breath catches at that before he even grabs you up. a firm hand settles on your jaw as he ignores the whimper that falls from your lips. you’re shocked but you’re not scared, and that’s exactly how he wants you when his hand comes down on your sweet face.

experimentally at first.

your eyes gloss over with both tears and excitement as the pain blossoms over your soft skin.

“are you gonna cry? isn’t this what you wanted?” dex taunts, his calloused fingers colliding with the plush expanse of your cheek once more after the initial slap. and then again, before you have the chance to respond or hiccup out a little sound. your face is sore as he squishes your cheeks in his grip, making your lips jut out pathetically while he speaks to you— low and raspy, “you’ve been begging me to hurt you for months, sweetheart. save the sniffles for later ‘n thank me.”

you nod faithfully, biting back a dazed smile as you mumble a sugared “thank you, sir” that forces dex’s heart to squeeze in his chest.

[sweetplea]

stalker!dex + your first time together …

benjamin poindexter & f!reader

content <𝟑 .ᐟ 18+, obsession / possession, stalking, manhandling, size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mention of f. masturbation, mention of crying (reader), reader is clueless.

benjamin knew he had to have you in every way from the moment his calculating eyes fell on you. you’re everything he isn’t. you’re sweet, you’re precious and innocent to a devastating fault. it almost makes him sick. faithfully, he took his time figuring you out. there’s nothing wrong with him watching you from a safe distance as long as it doesn’t get out of hand— that’s what he told himself as he memorized your routines, your tiny habits and mannerisms, the things in your life that alter your moods … all with the intention of getting to know you better.

months of preparation for when he finally gets close to you.

it wasn’t easy. you were skeptical that first time you met. maybe it was because you were clinging to an unsettling feeling. the feeling of being watched everywhere you went, whether it was day or night. it was enough to make you install a dead bolt on your door. he remembers catching a glimpse of it through your window. he scoffed, mostly because he was endeared by the fact you thought it made a difference.

he’d end up getting past those locks, anyway. time and time again.

like after your fourth date, when you invite him in and something about the way you purr your words tells him it’s not just for rosé flavored kisses and heavy petting or getting handsy on your couch. it doesn’t truly hit him until you’re pulling him into your bedroom with breathy giggles falling from your lips in between kisses. he’s nervous, a little fidgety as his deft fingers mess with the zipper on your dress— you’d never be able to tell by the grin that’s spread over his features. or the way he squeezes your waist with his big hands in the next second, muffling the mewl that falls from your swollen lips with his own.

you’re on your back and at his mercy in record timing. all it took was some tossing you around until you met your mattress with a soft sound. your dress is discarded, thrown to the floor along with your lacy panties and the delicate bra that matches. he’s careful not to tear anything no matter how badly he wants to let those urges take control for a brief moment. you can’t see that side of him yet.

the side you can see, however, is how attentive he can be while he has you folded up under him. while you’re gasping and whimpering and his hands are tucked under your knees, keeping your thighs spread wide and your pretty cunt on display for when he finally sinks in. you gasp in sync, and benjamin swears he’s never been closer to true salvation.

he wishes you both weren’t so desperate for it. he wishes he could take the time to press his face between your legs, kissing and sucking on your sensitive clit in earnest until you’re hiccuping for him to stop. he’s thought about it countless times, both on his own and while watching you play with yourself through your frilly curtains. whether it was your clumsy fingers rubbing yourself stupid or a pillow you decided to hump on, he’s seen it all. he’s thought about it all. and much like you, he’s thought about how no amount of finger fucking yourself to thoughts of him after your little dates could have prepared you to take him.

“look at that. y’did so good, angel girl— even after all that whining and crying,” he croons, running a rough hand down the length of your tummy as if he can feel himself under your tender flesh. he presses, just enough to make you gasp once more and whine. you can feel him right there, like weight of him is resting in your stomach. his gaze finally trails upwards, he breaks it away from where his cock pushes inside your soft, messy cunt and meets your dazed eyes instead. “but i think she wants more, huh? wants to be stuffed real good, yeah?”

he knows you don’t have the strength to respond fully. broken pleas and feverish nodding is all you can manage before he coos down at you and allows his hands to slip to the backs of your thighs. he feels your dewy skin as his fingers sink in for leverage, he rears his hips back before they twitch forward and chase after the silky, heated vice that your sweet pussy seems to be. yeah, he picked the perfect girl.

“fuckin’ made for me, you were made to take this cock,” he grunts out, peering down at you while you lose yourself little by little. pathetic sounds fall from your lips freely and he’s quick to shush you, leaning over your dizzy and manhandled form entirely as he speaks right above your spit slick lips. the words that leave his mouth send you into a frenzy— “i knew you were all mine from the second i saw you.”

[sweetplea]

i just deeply, truly and honestly love characters who very much have something wrong with them …

[sweetplea]

need him in ways that haven’t even been invented yet …

[sweetplea]

dex + manhandling …

benjamin poindexter & f!reader

content <𝟑 .ᐟ 18+, brat!reader, strict dom / brat tamer!dex, small mention of blood, manhandling -> use of a headlock, casual dominance, a single pet name, use of sir / sir kink.

sometimes you don’t know when to stop, at least that’s what dex has noticed. for example— when he gets home from a long day, and he barely has his shoes off before you’re following him around like an attention starved house pet, pouting about god knows what while he’s simply trying to unwind. the scent of blood and grime is still lingering in his nose for fuck’s sake, and here you are trying to cling to him.

he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, watching you. he can see your pouty lips moving with quickness through the borderline blinding frustration that’s taking over his vision. he can hear your sugared voice and that little rasp you have when you’re close to crying. you’re being petulant. all fussy and worked up because he let one tiny thing he promised slip through the cracks. because he won’t let you run off to the mall with his credit card like he said he would. if he has to hear you whine “but you pinky promised” one more time, he’s going to snap.

“enough,” he barks— and before you have a chance to bite back somehow, because he knows you will— dex is hooking a bulky, veiny arm around your throat. not hard enough to hurt you in the slightest bit, but more than enough to get you to shut up for a moment aside from the angelic gasp that falls from your lips. his firm chest presses against your back and your smaller form immediately melts into him.

teasingly, he jostles your already dizzy head in his grip while leaning in. his nose brushes against your heated cheek, his warm breath fanning over your ear as he continues on, “you know, you didn’t even greet me properly before you started running your mouth. i don’t think that’s very nice, angel face.”

“i— ‘m sorry, sir.” you mumble, turning your head to look over his sharp expression and features with dazed eyes. you’re no longer ready to start kicking and screaming, no longer worried about your shopping spree. all that matters now is getting his approval back and fixing your attitude. his hold on you doesn’t relent, especially not when he presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss designed to keep you docile.

“yeah, ‘m sure you are now that i’m touching you … such a shame you don’t deserve it.”

he sighs in your face, peering down at you with no sympathy. he’s not in the mood to pretend, either. even when he knows how messy you get between your thighs when he lays the faux pity on thick. he lets you go and you stumble on your feet for a brief second— he doesn’t bother to steady you, already heading off to take a shower while you stand there all needy and desperate for him to rough you up some more. to put his hands on you again. he can feel your heavy gaze on his broad back, he can sense your silent pleading and the way you’re holding back more whines now that you’ve been scolded.

it only makes him grin to himself.