꒰ྀི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 …

dex + reader with daddy issues …

content <𝟑 .ᐟ 18+, f!reader, trauma, brief mention of stalking, crying, pet names, a single use of daddy.

dex knows that you’ll never say it outright. you physically can’t, no matter what— he’s tried to coax it out of you time and time again with soft touches and reassuring words that amount to nothing. you won’t cave in. you won’t admit that you like to be babied and coddled, that you need him as much as he needs you in your own special way, that you see him as someone who fills a void that was left in you during your most formative years whether you acknowledge it or not.

he sees himself in you when you’re at your weakest, and he yearns to make it better. as if it’s akin to or as simple as kissing a scrape on your knee. he’s known this about you before you even knew who he was, it’s what drew him to you … but that’s a conversation for another day.

maybe he’s so impatient because he knows once you uncover that awaiting dynamic in your relationship, it will heal a major part of him as well. he can already see himself doing the little things that matter the most. picking out your clothes for the day, tying your laces, tucking you in at night when every feeling big or small seems to be too scary and you need some soft handling from him the most.

and when you’re sleepy and your face is puffy with tears after a stressful day of being unable to process things healthily and masking it for everyone else’s sake, he just can’t take it anymore.

“oh, baby … c’mere.” he coos, taking you in his arms and forcing you to curl up in his lap. you sniffle into his strong chest while your hot tears melt into his sweater. you have no choice but to take in his comfort. you can’t fight it this time, especially when he’s mumbling right over your ear. his big hand comes up to cradle your face, and a rough thumb brushes away a stray tear that threatens to slip down your plush cheek, “you don’t have to pretend anymore— i’m here, angel girl. ‘m not going anywhere, i promise.”

you’ll be a daddy’s girl in no time.

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.

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.

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.