#MANIPULATION

[postsforposting]

it's not just the "crying is weak" thing, though. if that was the whole story, people would not be so aggressive about it, because you crying would prove you're less than them. that's a good thing when you're trying to win an argument. crying would be seen as proof the other person is in the right.

that's not what happens.

crying is believed to be manipulative because people think you crying means you're being seriously hurt. they can't rationally deny you're crying, so it follows that they are hurting you. good people don't hurt anyone, and good people help those who are being hurt. it's seen as a manipulative attempt to guilt others and get your way, "making a big deal of nothing". people insult the crying to get you to stop so they don't have to think they did anything wrong.

you are supposed to hide when you're being hurt for social acceptance, to "prove you're not a whining baby". cause talking about your feefees makes you worthless, right? means you should be hurt more to "toughen you up". and the people harming you are then in the right, because they're """helping""". when people don't comply with this asinine stoicism, the people doing the hurting get upset. cause they can't claim they're """"helping you"""".

it's the same sort of bullshit as "i'll give you something to cry about", aka, "yes i am deliberately hurting you and if you don't stop rubbing my face in it then i'll make it worse". this is roundly seen as a jackass move, so instead people try to substitute it with this "it hurts me more than it hurts you" aka "you deserve this" bullshit by claiming the crier is faking it to get out of their assigned punishment. this too is a jackass manipulative move.

Everyone is so weird about people who cry easily. Fellas, is it evil and manipulative to *checks notes* have an involuntary stress response?

[cazshmere]

Moon Signs and the Trap of Manipulation 🎭

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: This post is meant to bring awareness to subtle manipulation tactics that each Moon sign might be more vulnerable to. Being aware of these patterns can help you set better boundaries and protect yourself from being taken advantage of. Remember, manipulation isn’t always obvious, and recognizing these behaviors can help you stay in control of your own choices. These are just my personal observations so please take them with a grain of salt 🎭

♈ Aries Moon

1. People pretend to be your friends but secretly compete with you, trying to one-up or outshine you.

2. Manipulators make you feel like you’re in charge, knowing that stroking your ego makes you more willing to comply.

3. You can be guilt-tripped into taking the lead in situations, even when it’s not beneficial to you.

4. You might be manipulated into unnecessary fights, arguments, or rivalries by people who provoke you on purpose.

5. People may secretly compete with you by copying your ideas, style, or achievements while pretending to admire you. They subtly try to outdo you or take credit for your originality, making you feel the need to constantly prove yourself.

🎭 for instance a “friend” that always hypes you up as the leader but subtly takes credit for your ideas and efforts. you end up doing all the work while they sit back and benefit.

♉ Taurus Moon

1. People use financial or emotional security to gain control over you.

2. Being pampered with gifts, acts of service, or luxurious experiences can make you overlook red flags sometimes.

3. Some people make you dependent on them so that you feel like you need them to be okay.

4. Fear of change or instability can be used to keep you in a stagnant or toxic situation.

5. People may appeal to your loyalty, making you feel guilty for leaving situations that no longer serve you.

🎭 okay so for instance a partner provides for you financially and always does nice things for you, but slowly starts controlling where you go, what you do, and who you see. since they’ve “done so much for you”, you feel guilty setting boundaries.

♊ Gemini Moon

1. People who can keep up with your mind can subtly steer your opinions and perceptions.

2. If someone engages you in deep, interesting conversations, you may ignore their true motives.

3. You might be manipulated through fast-talking, gaslighting, or cleverly twisted words.

4. You could be distracted by fun, new ideas, or constant entertainment, making you miss underlying manipulation.

5. People can create an “information overload”, overwhelming you so you stop questioning them.

🎭 okay so lets say there’s this friend who always has fascinating conversations with you but subtly inserts their own biases and over time, you start adopting their beliefs without realizing they’ve been shaping your opinions💀 scary ngl

♋ Cancer Moon

1. People who play the victim can make you feel responsible for their happiness.

2. You may stay in toxic situations out of loyalty, especially if someone reminds you of past good times.

3. Guilt-tripping tactics like “after everything I’ve done for you” can make you feel obligated to help.

4. Some people use their emotions to control your actions, acting sad or hurt whenever you set boundaries.

5. Fear of abandonment can be exploited to keep you stuck in draining relationships.

🎭 okay so lets say a family member constantly reminds you how much they sacrificed for you, making you feel guilty for prioritizing yourself. even when they mistreat you, you feel like you “owe” them loyalty.

♌ Leo Moon

1. Flattery and constant praise can blind you to manipulation.

2. People who make you feel special or put you on a pedestal can subtly control your actions.

3. Your fear of being embarrassed or looking bad in public can be used against you.

4. Manipulators may guilt you into staying by making you feel like their admiration is conditional.

5. Someone may create a situation where they “need” you to save them, making you feel heroic.

🎭 for example a partner constantly praises you in public but privately criticizes and controls you. you don’t want to leave because you feel like everyone sees you as a “power couple” because of the manipulation😕

♍ Virgo Moon

1. People convince you that you owe them help or that it’s your job to fix things.

2. You might be guilt-tripped into doing more by people who act helpless or incompetent.

3. Manipulators use your perfectionism against you, making you feel like nothing you do is “enough”.

4. Constant subtle criticism can make you dependent on their validation.

5. You might be drawn to “projects” or people who seem broken but just need your help to “change”.

🎭 let’s say a boss subtly criticizes your work but also tells you that “no one else can do it like you,” making you work extra hard for their approval😕

♎ Libra Moon

1. People use your desire for peace to pressure you into saying yes.

2. Manipulators guilt you into staying by saying you’re being “cold” or “selfish.”

3. Someone may use social circles or mutual connections to trap you in toxic dynamics.

4. You may stay in bad situations to avoid confrontation or looking like the bad guy.

5. Love-bombing (excessive charm and attention) can make you ignore red flags.

🎭 a friend always acts hurt whenever you say no, making you feel guilty. you keep agreeing to things just to avoid feeling like a bad person.

♏ Scorpio Moon

1. People create deep emotional connections quickly to trap you.

2. Secrets, shared trauma, or deep conversations can be used as a tool to control you.

3. Someone might convince you that only they truly understand you, making you dependent on them.

4. Emotional blackmail, threats, or withholding affection can keep you attached.

5. Manipulators might play with your trust issues, making you feel like you are the problem.

🎭 let’s say a partner love-bombs you, creates an intense emotional bond, then slowly isolates you from others, making you feel like they’re the only one who truly gets you, BLARING RED FLAG BABY 🚩🚩

♐ Sagittarius Moon

1. People convince you to take risks, knowing you love spontaneity.

2. Manipulators promise big, exciting things but never deliver.

3. Someone might make you feel “boring” or “trapped” if you try to be cautious.

4. Your belief in freedom may be twisted into an excuse for them to avoid responsibility.

5. You might be manipulated into chasing dreams that only benefit them.

🎭 someone constantly asks for your insights, ideas, or perspectives, making you feel valued for your wisdom. but later, they present your knowledge as their own, taking credit while you’re left wondering if you were just being used as a stepping stone.

♑ Capricorn Moon

1. People make you feel like it’s your job to take care of them.

2. Manipulators guilt you into overworking, making you feel like your success depends on them. I’ve noticed that for Capricorn Moons, there is a high possibility that one or both of their parents control and manipulate them.

3. Your fear of failure can be used to pressure you into doing things.

4. You may feel obligated to stay in a situation because you’ve already invested time and effort.

5. Someone might convince you that leaving means you “lack discipline” or are “giving up”.

🎭 picture this: a toxic work environment convinces you that you must overwork yourself because ‘success comes to those who sacrifice’. the people around you reinforce this message, making you feel like it’s normal😔

♒ Aquarius Moon

1. People use your love for unique perspectives to subtly push their own agenda.

2. Someone might make you feel like only they see the world the way you do.

3. Manipulators can twist your desire for freedom into making you avoid real emotional connections.

4. You might be convinced to reject traditional stability, even when it would benefit you.

5. Your rebellious side may be used to push you into unnecessary conflicts.

🎭 its like when a friend convinces you to cut off everyone in your life because “they don’t understand you,” isolating you so you rely only on them 🚩🚩🚩🚩

♓ Pisces Moon

1. People use your empathy to make you feel like you must save them.

2. Someone might make you believe in a dream-like fantasy to keep you attached.

3. Manipulators use sob stories and victimization to guilt you into staying.

4. You may be gaslit into questioning your reality.

5. Someone might use your idealism to get you to ignore practical concerns.

🎭 for example a toxic partner convinces you that enduring suffering together is a “beautiful love story,” making you ignore red flags💀 like boi???

gif & divider credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[creature-wizard]

I keep thinking about the post talking about how scammers will try and tell you how they're going to prove they're the real thing, where the "proof" they will offer you is actually meaningless because it doesn't actually mean what they claim this means, and how this is essentially the way witch hunters operate.

Your early modern witch hunters would always be able to "find" witches because they had easily-filled criteria for what constituted evidence of witchcraft - things like bad weather, strange symptoms and seemingly incurable ailments, night terrors, etc.

Of course, they had no evidence that there was a causal link between any of these things and witchcraft. They just said it was evidence of witchcraft, and a lot of people just assumed they knew what they were talking about.

And so it is with claims that hypnosis and various trance states can help people remember past lives and repressed memories. People with actual doctorates claim that hypnosis can help you uncover repressed memory, even though its ability to do this has never been demonstrated. In fact, the more you start looking into cases where hypnosis was used to help people remember something, the more you find that people can "remember" nearly anything - including, very famously, alien abductions.

In Ritual Abuse and Mind Control: The Manipulation of Attachment Needs (essentially pro-Satanic Panic literature, for those who haven't read it), Valerie Sinason acknowledged the people who seemingly remembered alien abductions, then proceeded to try special pleading for people who "remembered" satanic ritual abuse. Sinason's defense was that SRA was more plausible than alien abductions, therefore we should believe it's actually happening.

Of course, "more plausible" does not equal "actually happening." Just because it's more plausible that I have the skeleton of Elvis Presley in my basement than an alien skeleton, doesn't mean I have the skeleton of Elvis Presley in my basement. And when your methodology for obtaining your so-called evidence is this deeply flawed, you might as well just say "it's true because I want it to be true" and then try to locate all the cultists in your town with dowsing rods.

Indeed, when other people start setting higher standards for evidence, SRA proponents' ability to find witches (or cult programmers, as we're calling them today) vanish. All they can do is try to guilt trip people for allegedly betraying survivors and claim that the critics are part of a malicious conspiracy.

I've both studied and personally been involved in controlling and manipulative groups long enough to recognize this song and dance for what it is - it's fundamentally an assertion that you're betraying the good guys and letting the bad guys win. It's always an act of desperation.

Many Christians pull this when someone tries to leave the faith. It often goes like this: Jesus loves you so much, how could you deny him like this? Also everyone who refuses to become Christian has been deceived by the Devil, and some of them are even working for him on purpose!

Many neopagans do it whenever someone questions or disagrees with whatever dogma their personal group has. It often goes like this: You're betraying the gods (whom you owe your loyalty because they're the gods), and you're letting our Christian oppressors win.

Many peddlers of woo and conspiracy theories do it like this: You're being closed minded (and therefore you're being rude to nice open-minded people like them). You're also just brainwashed by the people who don't want the truth getting out, and you're basically doing their bidding.

Anyway, since I think most of us here can agree that the witch hunts were unjustified and that thousands of innocent people lost their lives, I want you to picture someone saying:

"When you say the Devil's Sabbath wasn't real and the witch hunts targeted innocent women, you're invalidating and erasing the pain of everyone who suffered from the torments of witches. I agree that some innocent people were burned, but there were absolutely real witches working with the Devil to cast evil spells."

As you can see, this rhetoric can be used to defend and justify any bullshit-driven atrocity. Let's try this with another conspiracy theory I think most of us can agree is bullshit - reptilian aliens:

"When you say the Reptilians aren't real and they're based on antisemitic tropes, you're invalidating and erasing the pain of everyone who suffered at their hands. I agree that some innocent people have been accused of being Reptilians, but there are absolutely real Reptilians out there torturing people and killing them to drink their blood."

So in conclusion, we must always think critically about what people present as evidence, and not let them guilt trip us into lowering our standards. Remember:

Efficacy of the evidence-gathering methods must be demonstrated. The methods must be shown to be reliable, unlikely to produce false results.

Causal links must be established. Assertions that X causes Y must be backed up with empirical evidence.

Other explanations must be ruled out. Do not assume the most sensational explanation without ruling out more common ones. As the saying in medicine goes, if you see hoofprints, think horses, not zebras. Do not consider zebras until horses (and any other common equines) can be ruled out.

[aphroditusiscorroded]

I love the idea that Bill’s manipulation tactics are horribly obvious but Ford is so socially inept that it works on him perfectly

“He was a masterful manipulator.”

No bestie he was just nice to you and you folded like a house of cards

[stalkerr-daddy]

As you lay there innocently sleeping, I begin losing myself in the perverted thoughts filling my head as I watch you sleep sweetly. Temptation starts to consume me the more I entertain those thoughts, until my body can’t take it anymore, I need to feel you. I gently lift up your shirt above your tits, softly licking them while I grope you, often checking to make sure I’m not waking you. As my thoughts get even more desperate I softly pull down your panties inch by inch, I start rubbing you, making you wet for me, sticking one finger inside of you. I begin licking you gently while i finger fuck your sleeping body. Making you moan out the sweetest little sounds as you start clenching around my fingers, making an even bigger mess for me to lick off of you. I stick more fingers inside of you, slightly picking up the pace as I feel you twitching and cumming around my fingers. Sucking your mess off of my finger I leave you to wake up to a sloppy, sticky wet pussy wondering what happened last night. When you ask me in the morning I make fun of you, telling you that you must’ve had a good dream last night because you couldn’t stop squirming around. Completely gaslighting you, knowing exactly what I did to your unconscious little body without your knowledge

[liberalsarecool]

Conservatives create a false reality to support white supremacy.

Do not normalize their lies. Call them out.

[bluemoonperegrine]

This bears repeating.

when you see some outrageous shit like this, look for the stuff that's been released at the same time. That's what they're actually trying to get passed.

IMO this is an outgrowth of Steven Bannon (remember that asshole?)'s "Flood the zone with shit" strategy. This screencap from a five-year-old Vox article explains it well.

I guess it's "flood the zone with shit" meets "magician doing sleight-of-hand Jackass-style". The media will happily report on the Greenland bullshit as well as the "make traveling doctors independent contractors" stuff.

Due to human nature, the Greenland bullshit will get more traction. People will either cheer for it or jeer it depending on their point of view. It prompts an emotional response and requires little thought.

The traveling doctor stuff is drier and requires thought. It won't get the clicks/views/shares/etc.

The fascists and technocrats know what they're doing. They've weaponized the media landscape. We're drowning in shit while the fascists try to push through everything they can while Republicans effectively control all three branches of U.S. government. They don't quite control the Supreme Court, but it's conservative-leaning.

If you've been trying to keep up with the news and feel exhausted and wrung out, that's the fascists meeting one of their objectives. They, like most abusers, do everything they can to wear their targets down. Weak opponents can't effectively fight back.

I don't know how to tackle these problems, but I can at least share some of their tactics. It's marketing and psychological warfare to take the U.S. back to the 1950s, if not earlier.

The US is truly incomprehensible

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.

[moompl]

A visual parallel I have noticed throughout SW is the image of a Palpatine goading his new apprentice to kill a defenseless person. He does it with Dooku and Yaddle, Anakin and Dooku, and finally Luke and Darth Vader (Anakin). Each time he encourages them to do something that goes against their morals (killing a friend, a defenseless person, or their father) and the choice they make is telling to who they will become in the future. Luke is the person to break this cycle when he refuses to kill his father after seeing Vader’s mechanical hand. He looks to his own hand and realizes that to destroy his father is to become him. He holds fast to his ideals in the face of Palpatines attempts to change them. It’s a nice way to keep consistency with Palpatine’s character and form of manipulation.

[envy-of-the-apple]

older reader?? SAY NO MORE

you're a confident, popular, charismatic lady in your 30s. you catch a pretty, barely-not-teenage gojo at a bar about to get roofied and rescue him.

you're neither a paragon of moral virtues but apparently you do still have some maternal instincts because you take him aside, help him sober up, and give him a stern but well-meaning lecture about watching drinks, staying safe, etc. maybe he gets a headpat and a caring look while you do this.

that's where you thought this would end but to gojo had absent parents and is starved of all forms of affection, including maternal, so he absolutely cannot let this end here and he will exploit his prettiness, his pitifulness, AND your maternal instincts to the max.

if wires get crossed and he manages to get you to bang him (and hopefully feel so guilty about taking advantage that he can get you to stay with him) then even better!!

omgggggyou know me so well-

(Warnings: manipulation, guilt-tripping, large age gap but both characters are 21+, implied non/dubcon, implied drugging)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Bad Night

When you open your eyes, your head is pounding.

Last night is a blur, but you get the big picture. You drank too much, and you brought someone home.

He's a cuddler, pressing you against his bare chest, a long arm wrapped around your naked body. It'd be a cute way to wake up if you weren't so sweaty and already in a bad mood.

You're debating on how to kick him out when he shifts behind you. He yawns, one hand reaching up to draw circles on your waist.

"You wake up pretty early."

It's not a stranger's voice. You know him.

You turn your head, almost afraid to look. He gives a sleepy smile.

"...Satoru?"

"Mornin'." Taking advantage of your shock, he gives a quick peck on your lips.

It's a jumpstart for the memories of last night to kick in. Satoru had invited you out, you had a bad day at work and you took the offer, you took shot after shot, one thing lead after another and then-

Shit.

"What's wrong?" He asks, and you doubt you're managing to hide the horror off your face all that well. His usually carefree attitude melted into concern.

"Feeling' alright? I wasn't too rough last night, was I?"

When you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a strangled 'I'm fine'.

"That's good." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. "I was worried I hurt you or somethin'. Last night was perfect, by the way. Everythin' I dreamed of, baby."

Baby. You want to throw up.

"Oh, you must be hungry." Satoru frowns, clicking his tongue. "Uh, wait here, I'll go whip somethin' up."

Another kiss, this time on your cheek, before he's sliding off your bed. He's naked. You squeeze your eyes closed when he starts to put on his pants. You keep them closed until the door shuts behind him.

What the fuck did you just do?

You know what you did. You just had sex with someone more than a decade younger than you. You can't even remember it, but the evidence was all around you. Your panties laying crumbled on the floor. The ache between your legs. The bitemarks on your chest, your legs.

You fucked up.

Satoru was by chance You weren't supposed to talk to him, let alone meet him. You were at the right place, at the right time. You happened to catch smug asshole putting something in the oblivious kid's drink. You happened to grab it right before Satoru could, before dumping it on the asshole's face.

Looking back, it wasn't your finest moment. You nearly got the police called on you, but ever since that day, Satoru clung onto you like Velcro. He didn't leave you alone for the rest of the night. You thought your lecture would have embarrassed him enough to leave, which kid wants to be scolded by a thirty-year old? If anything, that might have sparked his admiration for you.

He was determined. Before you knew it, Satoru was everywhere. He spammed you with texts everyday, when he couldn't call. He'd constantly invite you to places adults way past their college years should not be going. Despite your absolute refusal to visit his dorm, you found yourself reluctantly letting him into your house, picking him up from parties when he was too drunk to drive. He'd told you things he'd never told anyone before.

You knew what was happening, you weren't stupid. And unhealthy infatuation. Young, starved for attention, eager to please. You saw the signs, you tried to set boundaries, but you thought you could help him somehow. Your savior's complex grew too big...you thought you could help him.

And then, you ended up sleeping with him.

It wasn't illegal. You knew he was over 18, at the very least. You still feel nothing but nauseating disgust. When you looked down at your hands, they felt dirty.

You needed to fix this, somehow. You needed to tell Satoru that this was a mistake. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean.

You ignore the crumbled clothes on the floor: your flimsy dress, Satoru's shirt. Instead, you go to the closet and pull out baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. You needed to hide as much skin as possible. To preserve the remnants of dignity you had left.

You stayed in the bathroom for ten minutes, practicing what you were gonna say over and over again. I'm sorry, it was a mistake, I was drunk, I took advantage of you, it's not your fault. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

When you step outside your sanctuary, you smell something that makes your stomach growl.

Satoru's standing over a sizzling pan with a smile on his face. He knows his way around your kitchen because he's been here before, doing homework on your countertops. You feel sick all over again.

"Hey." He pouts when you inch closer. "I told you to stay in bed, didn't I? Silly." He reaches over, pinching your cheek in affection.

You swallow and you finally manage to steel yourself.

"Satoru, we need to talk-"

"And done!" Satoru cheers, setting down a plate. "Hungry? You gotta' be, right? We did a whole workout last night." You cringe at his choice of words, wishing he'd stop mentioning your biggest blunder.

When you don't move, he picks up some food with his fork, hovering it close to your lips.

"C'mon. At least try it." He urges. "I promise it's good. Please?"

You look into his baby blue doe eyes. Wide and earnest and eager. When you accept the offering, he glows.

He feeds you like this, one forkful at a time. When you ask why he isn't eating, he just shakes his head.

"I don't think it'll stay down." He admits. "I'm so happy, it almost feels like I'm dreaming."

You clear your throat. Hopefully, you can steer this conversation into something more productive. "Satoru, about last night-"

"Did you like it?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

"Last night." He says with a sheepish smile. "Did-did you like it? Was I any good?"

You stare at him, utterly bewildered. "I-"

"It was my first time!" He blurts out with clear impulsiveness, and your heart stops. "I-I was pretty nervous. 'Had no fuckin' idea what I was doing, but it looked like you liked it. Right?"

He looks at you with those wide eyes, filled with genuine sincerity and you want to throw yourself off a ledge because not only did you not remember having sex with him, you don't remember taking his virginity.

You were a horrible person.

"It...was a nice night." You mutter quietly.

He beams again, it does nothing to assuage your guilt.

Fuck this all. You needed to put a stop to this. You needed to stop stringing this poor kid along. You needed to be the bad guy.

But, like always, Satoru makes the first move.

He rounds the countertop, coming to a stop by your chair. Satoru kneels to the floor, taking your hands within his owns. If it were anyone else, you would have melted.

Not him. Anyone but him.

"I meant what I said yesterday." He quietly says. "I know you still think I'm young, but I'm 22. I'm more than old enough to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Oh God. When you turn away, he's reaching out, placing a hand on your cheek. You're forced to stare at him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." He smiles. "I-I always thought you'd never see me that way, but then you said you liked me too and-"

"Wait wait, hold on." You interrupt. "What?"

He suddenly looks unsure, his gaze darting around. "At the bar last night. I confessed, and you said it back."

That doesn't sound like you. If anything, when you're drunk, you're annoyingly honest. You've never seen Satoru as more than a kid how could you have said that to him?

But he can't be lying. Not with those eyes. Eyes that were suddenly starting to fall like dying stars.

"Oh..." He trails off. "Did you not mean it?"

He handed you your chance on a silver platter. It was a mistake. I was drunk. I've never seen you like that. I took advantage of you.

You can break his heart, here and now. You take in a breath.

"No." You smile. "Of course I meant it. I...really really like you, Satoru."

His smiles returns and he's leaping up. You can't stop him from kissing you, but he's quick, flitting away just as quickly to give you a hug.

"I'm so glad." He whispers. "I'll make you happy, I promise. I'll do anything for you."

You pat his back, still in a daze.

Satoru is smart. He's a physics major, he's got to be smart. You just need to pretend to date him for a while before he realizes that you're too old for him. Then, he'll leave you for someone his age.

He'll snap out of it eventually, right?

[luna-azzurra]

Manipulative Starters

"If you loved me, you’d do this."

"Everyone else thinks it’s a good idea, why don’t you?"

"I’m the only one who cares about you."

"Without me, you’d be nothing."

"You’re so lucky to have me."

"Nobody else would put up with you."

"I’m the best thing that ever happened to you."

"You owe me this."

"I sacrificed so much for you."

"Remember all those times I helped you?"

[angelyuji]

SOME MOREEE YANDERE PINES TWINS THOUGHTS

stan pines thoughts and professor ford pines??? HOLD ON LET ME COOK

18+!!!!

tw // yandere themes, gaslighting, manipulation, power imbalance, pervy uncle lowkey, also lowkey bimboification, noncon (not explicit)

professor ford pines!!!!!!!! known to be the eccentric professor who goes on tangents about trans-dimensional physics and other science junk, but also superrr lenient grader like no possible way anyone could fail his class. you’re def teacher’s pet type and he’s definitely aiming to make you a TA. always getting you involved in weird experiments, but you’re always down cuz ur there to learn! ford invites you to his house, you guys hang out outside of class and research, you’ve met his brother!! like u knew it was getting weird, but at the same time…. you need a good rec letter. so one day you guys are in his office at his home, grading papers…

“(y/n).” ford calls your name, sternly. the lights were dim and quiet classical music played in the office. you hum and turn to him. before you know it, his chapped lips press against yours. you push him away, scared and surprised.

“professor, what the hell are you doing?” you try back away, but ford grabs your hand.

“i think you are one of the most brilliant minds i know and i want to be with you, (y/n).” ford stands, pulling you into a hug. you push back, stumbling away from him.

“no, i-i never thought that! i thought we were just friends!”

“but, i invited you to my home.” ford’s face saddens, “you met my family…”

“i never… i never realized…” you felt embarrassed for the old professor. you take a step back. you can’t see his face, but you watch his fists clench.

“i suppose that means you’re okay with losing your job, as well as any opportunities in this field.” his voice was low, words drenched in anger.

“no…. no, no, no, professor you can’t do this to me.” your heart feels like it was being ripped out of your chest.

“no, i can’t, but who will you tell? who will believe you? i am a respected scientist in our field, (y/n). think once more on your decision.” ford looks at you, a smug smirk laying on his face. you don’t respond, knowing that you had no other choice. you step back to him and he pulls you into a soft, loving kiss. his 5 o’clock shadow scratches your face. “now, please (y/n), call me ford.”

stan pines who had known your dad when he lived in texas and saw him again in gravity falls. stan pines who gets invited over to meet his friend’s family for dinner and sees you. a cute, little thing in their early 20s. stan’s instantlyyy enamored. you’re so cute and respectful, explaining how you’re living at home while you work and save money for a house, blushing when stan compliments you, serving him food first. you were acting like a perfect homemaker and stan was instantly obsessed. your dad’s gonna tell stan before he leaves that you’re all moving somewhere cheaper:

“yeah, pines, we’re moving some time soon. you know how it is with retirement and the market going down.” your dad sighs, wearily. stan nods, trying to listen to your voice in the house. “can’t move till (y/n) finds a job though. its gonna be tough on them especially with how hard it is to find jobs these days.” stan perks up at his words.

“y’know, (y/n) don’t have to quit…” your dad looks at the older man in confusion. “my grandkids have gone back to california, shermie’s grandkids technically, so my attic is open for them to stay in. they can stay at their job and you guys can move.” stan offers, fighting a giddy smile.

your dad clasps stan’s hands, “stan pines, you are the kindest man i know.”

stan for sure acts like a feeble old man around you to get you to take care of him. like cooking dinner, doing laundry, and more. he conditions you into acting like his stay at home partner. he starts making advances, subtle at first, to see what you would tolerate. soon he’s dictating what you wear and bending you over on the kitchen counter to make sure you stay full :) (dont get me started on somnophilia cuz i have thoughts on those but idk if u guys are ready for the things im gonna say)

here are those thoughts i was talking abt… :))))

[deliciousunknownhologram]

Ok……WHO TOLD YOU MY DREAM>:c

Yes. I need this. Please

Somno as a way to brat tame is so underrated

Imagine a brat, tired from a long day of acting up, never truly giving in the whole time but they’re completely exhausted after putting up a fight for so long. They innocently fall asleep, proud of their defiance and you just let It happen because you know their training is about to start.

After a while, long enough to where they’re deeper in sleep, it’s all to easy to pull their clothes aside and start gently teasing wherever they’re most sensative. For some that might be their chest, but more commonly clit/ tdick/frenulum will do the trick. Carefully start circling it and tracing it up and down at a painfully slow pace. Normally this would be torturous but their sleeping body is gonna take whatever you want to give it, no complaints. Then just take your time and have patience. You get to enjoy the show of hearing their little soft breathy moans and seeing their face wince between whines. An honest expression of how good they feel, a refreshing change from the normal defiance and snarky comments.

The goal from here on out is just to tease them for as long as possible. Enjoy feeling as they get miserably hard or messy. You want to toy with them an amount they absolutely could not withstand if they were awake. Just be careful not to push them over the edge and actually let them cum, they need to ride that line for as long as possible. Once they’re sufficiently primed and you’ve gotten a good eye and earful of their embarrassing involuntary reactions just fix their clothes a bit and pretend to roll, or nudge into them in your sleep. Not so much that it’s obvious you’re doing it on purpose but just enough to wake them up inconspicuously.

If all goes well they’ll groggily get up and get hit by a wave of crippling arousal. Almost as if they’d been getting denied for hours. It’s hard to even rationally with how deliriously needy they feel but your brat will quickly realize they have a decision to make. Do they wake you up so you can help relieve them, or do they try to get themselves off without you knowing. Going back to bed is nearly impossible at this point so it’s going to be one or the other.

If they wake you up make sure to really rub their face in how embarrassing this is. Have them communicate in detail how desperate they are and make them beg, apologize and humiliate themselves for your help. They should be essentially broken by the beginning thanks to your hard work. You can either not mention that you toyed with them in their sleep and just start letting them believe they’re so much of a slut waking up desperately horny is a new trait they have or around the time you get them close to finishing you can tell them all the details of what you did, and how cutely they reacted, let them realize how easily they were trained to obediently come to you for relief.

If they try to get off themselves that works too. Just pretend to sleep while you listen carefully to their moans and whines. When they start getting more frequent and hectic, letting you know they’re close, simply wake up and catch them red handed. Then you get to tease and make fun of them for being so much of a pervert they tried to get off next to you while you weren’t awake. You’ll watch their face get all red and shy, a lot more pleasant than the usual defiance. Then they are faced with another decision, do they keep going and jerk off in-front of you like a depraved whore, or do they now start begging you for your help. I think that’s definitely the most humiliating combination of outcomes. But after all that teasing and almost getting close themselves, they’re just gonna be desperate for bodily relief, dignity at the wayside. You can really make them beg after that level of humiliation. Then you can hold how desperate they were over their head. After all, that was all of their own volition, as far as they know you didn’t do anything, only have themselves to blame. You can keep up consistent night training if you really want to ensure their obedience. generally just consider adding somno to your routine brat training, it really messes with their head more than most other methods and has them convinced they’re a total needy pervert.

[allurilove]

Yandere Professor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: sweet talking, breath play, age gap, fucking in his classroom, pretty gender neutral, manipulation, abuse of power, obsessed professor.

*Everyone is of age, and older than eighteen. He is referred to as “your professor” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: He’s your strict professor, and you’re trying to get a better grade. You’ve never seen him be swayed by a student before, perhaps you would be the first.

Your grade has tanked by a lot. You had an unreasonable professor, the man was picky, and on your last test it was covered in corrections by that damn red pen of his.

You began to wonder what it would take for him to give you an A.

You wouldn’t consider yourself to be a bad student. In fact, this is the first time you have been close to failing. It was honestly your fault, you’ve read the reviews on this teacher and still chose to take the class anyways. You just wanted to challenge yourself.

You gawk at the paper he hands back to you. Your eye twitched at the big fat zero out of a hundred, and that might’ve been impressive just in itself. Not even one question right. You narrow your eyes at the professor who was still handing out the quiz back to the students.

When class ended, you slowly packed up your things, and you kept tabs on how many students were still left in the classroom. When the last student left, you got up from your seat, and stormed your way over to the professor.

Any sliver of dignity you had was gone. Your cheeks still flushed when he announced the lowest score to the whole class. You pushed that memory aside, and you crossed your arms as you stood in front of his desk.

“I don’t have time for this.” Your professor sighed, and his brows furrowed as he loosened up his tie.

He knew why you were coming over to talk to him. This was the worst grade you have gotten in his class. And really, he’s not surprised. In his opinion you have been slacking off. Your body bristles at his words, his eyes are cold and unforgiving.

Maybe if you weren’t a rash individual, you would’ve seen that his comments on your test was totally fake. Every circle and outline with a tiny scribble on the side? That was his way of professing his love for you, and about fifty “I love you’s.” were on the paper, but he knew you wouldn’t read them.

He did know that the grade would haunt you. He did know that it would make you desperate enough to come to him during office hours.

Your professor watched you with amusement as you crawled onto his lap, and you guiding his hands onto your body. He could already feel his dick stirring in his pants.

“This is hardly appropriate.” He said in a disapproving tone, though his hands do cup at your chest.

His thumb circles around your nipple, and the rest of his fingers gently squeeze at opportunity you have given to him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly in his lap.

It felt like you were trying to chip away at his resolve, his face was stern, and he listens to you rant on about the grade he gave you. Though, him letting you sit on his lap, let you subtly grind on his growing erection. With every whine and pout, you tried to play with his heart strings.

Your professor sighed, shook his head, and tried to pretend that there was no way you could make up for it. His hand slowly, and quietly, opening his drawer to grab for a condom.

It didn’t take long for him to agree when you took off his glasses, your lips capturing his in a searing kiss. He followed your lead, letting you feel like you were in control.

His hands groping at your ass and he puts you onto his desk, his body moving his way in between your legs. You wore something easy to slip off, your shorts and underwear now down to your ankles. He caressed your inner thighs, his lips now trailing down to your neck.

Your professor licked and sucked at your skin, his teeth gently nibbling at you, and he made sure to leave marks.

“You can be quite cute like this…” The older man mumbles, “…so pretty, so perfect.” he took a deep inhale as his nose was buried into your neck.

“Oh shit.” Your professor growled, his belt falling to the floor and his pants were pulled down roughly.

Before you knew it, he ripped open the condom wrapper and he slid it on his cock. He spit on his hand for lube, and gave his member a few pumps. He aligned his tip against your warmth.

His hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing the side of it, as his hips began to rock itself. His dick hit the deepest part of you, he went slow, and he was determined to find your sweet spot.

“Don’t be upset…” He cooed, and he kissed you in between his words. “I had to give you a zero.”

“You weren’t understanding my hints.”

He needed you. He wanted to be with you the moment you stepped inside his room, or maybe it was when he found out you signed up for his class. Your name was interesting to him, your looks, and the way you carried yourself got him hooked.

He took a couple points off on your first test, just to see what you would do. You certainly didn’t deserve it, and he thought you would’ve challenged him on it, or come talk to him. Or even offer your body to him sooner.

He did it over and over again, until you were on the verge of receiving an F. He was getting frustrated, and you were a damn tease.

He was never like this before, and if you exposed him, he could lose his job. But maybe then he could be with you in public? He let out a deep groan, his eyes rolling back as he was fucking you for his release.

Your professor didn’t realize that your face was turning pink, your nails scratching at his hands that were on your throat, and you were on the verge of cumming. You gasp as he finally let you breathe, his hands now on the desk behind you.

The room was filled with his vocalizations, his whimpers, his mumbles of how good you feel, and how much he needed this.

He even called you his baby, his good student, love, and when you finally came— his eyes were glued to the white substance dripping out of you.

That was when he knew you were going to be his. He was going to be the only one that could make you feel this way.

That day, you received the A you have been wanting. But you also indulged the man that’s been pining after you, and he never stopped.

Allure: Idk why, but i’ve been really active lately omg.

[american-boyboss]