Handsome Dictator Of My Crimes

Handsome Dictator of my crimes

ᦾSirius 𓂅 agender 𓂅 23

He/Him is fine.

I will be writing smut and explicit material. I rather minors at the very least don't interact with those posts if you must lurk, but I'd prefer you do not interact period.

Links will update as content is posted.

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English is not my first language, but it sure as hell isn't the last. I am also dyslexic. Sigh.

Kinktober ˚₊ · »-♡→ Day I

Degradation

Dom!Geto x gn!Sub!reader Word count: 2.2k Warnings: Softcore porn with plot, mixed POV, no use of y/n, Geto gets mean, cult leader Geto, follower sorcerer reader, cult activities, power dynamics, name calling, bit of a findom vibe but with curses, cursed reader, probably not the most accurate description of curses, mild insulting allusion to Jonestown I’m sorry (I told you he gets mean), lowkey foot stuff but only out of humiliation aspects. Plus letter replacement for the words that had tumblr screaming crying throwing up and wouldn't let me save the draft because of it.

There’s only two things monkeys are good for: bringing in money, and bringing in curses.However much time non-sorcerers spent adoring Geto, listening to him and giving their prayers to him in exchange, meant nothing to him. No amount of praise, tears, thank yous or recruitments could ever make the man even think about caring about the mass of idiotic humans that sat before him.

Death to the fool, punishment to the weak, love to the strong.

What had started as the Star Religious Group finding themselves following him out of fear, had twisted and flourished into a pyramid scheme of convenience where the leader was the only true winner; civilians get cleansed of the curses that latch onto them, which gives the monkeys the superficial amount of merit needed for them to keep their lives. That is, while they’re useful.

Money, curses, money, curses, money, curses, all coming bit by bit in small amounts and low grade.

Human hatred is a strong thing, and monkeys somehow had the power to manifest it into the world, affecting sorcerers the most. When Geto’s beloved right hand sorcerer fell victim to a heavy grudge from a man going bankrupt over his contributions, Suguru didn’t hesitate to kill him; he was as useful as his pockets were heavy, after all– but the curse stemming from his hatred for the sorcerers above him had already latched itself and had no intentions to go down easy.

Ever since you could remember, you had an astounding resistance to curses. No one truly is immune, except maybe Satoru Gojo, but the deformed grudge that perched on your shoulder like a festering gargoyle was nothing you couldn’t handle.

Your Master took some time to believe you weren’t dealing with any “symptoms” just yet, his reluctant trust being mainly fueled by your idea of growing the curse; after all, your eyes being opened to the safety of a sorcerer-centric world saved you from the shit you were going through before Geto found you, so it made sense to want to pay him back. Especially with how much you adored him.

You were utterly and unconditionally devoted to the man that saved you.

As time had passed, there were less and less ways you could help him after meetings and troubles, the line between his eyebrows getting harder and harder to smoothen. You’ve held him in your arms, reminded him how well he’s handling things, the future being closer and closer to being what he’s planned for your family. Praise, sex, and blowjobs seemed to get it done, too; after all, he took his time to mutter against your skin how your praise is the only one he’s ever cared for, your eyes witness to the way your words always traveled straight to his cock.

But there’s only so much any of that can do.

Sometimes he just needs to let it out.

He needs to let it out.

He needs to drop the stupid mask of pleasantries that kept monkeys from getting too snappy.

Your way of paying him back came in a perfect package of shooting down two birds with one stone. Your curse gets bigger and stronger for him to absorb something worth it some day, and he gets to destress after the day’s duties.

Stemming from hate for you, the creature latched to you thrived from misfortunes thrown your way; insults, harm, violence.

And if it came from Geto, you thrived from it too.

“Meeting’s long over.” His tired yet always silky voice snapped you out of whatever fantasies you were having, eyes snapping up from where you knelt seiza on the tatami flooring of the meeting room.

“Master… I could not make it in time to see you preach today.” Your voice was merely a whisper, laced with the submission that had built up on the way back to the temple after a mission. Suguru’s disdain over having to speak to those lowlifes had kept your mind company all day, the frown over those dark eyes of him threatening to make you slip up during a fight.

The anticipation in your stomach burnt like a knot dipped in acid and set on fire. You wonder if this is how your beloved’s throat feels when swallowing curses.

Shifting where you kneel under his gaze, any chance to focus is pulled from under your feet by his sigh, lips tight in a grimacing snarl. He’s pissed.

“You’d think you could at least be good enough at being under me.”

His feet tiredly but decidedly made their way to the kneeling form of his plaything, who was already beginning to lightly tremble in their attempts to keep any sort of eye contact; whether it’s fear or excitement goes beyond him. He hopes it’s both.

“If you were more efficient in your missions, you’d have the time to come see the ridiculous meetings that you like oh so much.” His hand made its way into their hair, getting a good hold of their scalp to force them to look up at him. “Has that curse of yours mushed your brain that badly that you need to hear the words I direct to those monkeys?” “NO-! No…” They were quick to correct their tone, seemingly desperate to show their dedication to the cause despite the submission clouding their mind. In their panic, they had reached forward, arms wrapping around one of Geto’s legs as if desperate to make him stay- if he had planned to leave at all was irrelevant. “I just… seeing you up there, controlling the crowd and making yourself heard… Remembering the power that brought you here in the first place- I can’t get enough of it, I-I can’t-”

“If I didn’t know the power you carry within you, I’d think you’re one of those delusional kool-aid drinkers that believe me a god.” The distaste in his voice made you pout, resting your cheek on his thigh “I’m not a mindless follower! I don’t go around adoring blindly-” your heart raced and your voice quieted down as your defences dragged on “-and you may be a god to me…. How could you not be? I’d be nothing without you.”

Just what he needed. Those sorts of needy little confessions that dropped from your lips any time you ached to have him put you in your place were like morphine to him, clouding his senses and making his dick harder than any meeting could be. The grip on your hair only tightened, getting a creaky whimper out of you. “You may be a shit sorcerer, but at least you’re good at choosing where your loyalties lie.”

You could feel the way he shifted his body some, rotating his hips just enough to have the growing tent in his pants press lightly against your nose and lips. Despite the gojokesa and burlier accessories of his ceremonial outfit being long discarded before you even got back, he still looked imposing and ethereal; traditional clothes on Geto were nothing short of a breathtaking sight, pure beauty dressing up the cruellest lips you know.

“You took too long coming back to me today. Will it always be this way when I need you?” “No, master.” “You were very bad today.”

The disapproval and weight in being called *bad *settled in your being like acid, the pout that made you bite the inside of your lower lip trembling over letting your everything down. “Master, I will do better, I don’t wanna be bad-” “And yet you were. It feels as if the more you want to prove yourself to me like a show horse, the more pathetic you become with every inevitable failure.”

Easing Geto’s frustrations after particularly bad days had become routine in the past months. He got to project his disdains on you, and you got to be his masochistic little pet, taking it all in bit by bit the same way he took in curses. Everyone has a role in the future of sorcerers, and this was yours. The arms around his leg could only cling tighter as your breathing got warmer, heavier, the panting of a person at the mercy of the strongest Sorcerer you would ever see.

Suguru’s eyes were fixed on the way your eyebrows arched, eyes heavy-lidded in a pleasurable submission that even he couldn’t fully understand. Any doubts he had had about mistreating you the first time you begged him to let it out on you were cleared and gone the moment he saw this face. “You’re pathet|c.” Ghetto leaned down, maintaining a cold eye contact that sent shivers down your spine and straight to your crotch. “I’ve barely spoken to you, if at all, and you’re already panting and fidgeting like a dog.” The whine that his words pulled from your throat made him scoff “Have you already become such a lowlife whore that you can’t even hold a conversation without thinking of my co.ck?” Ignoring the way you rushed to shake your head in denial, he went on “Had I known I would break you so easily I would’ve gotten a longer lasting toy.” “Please, master Geto, I-” “You’re a useless s|ut.” His deadpan words interrupted your futile attempts at redemption, dark brown eyes staring into your shaky little soul as your thighs pressed tighter and tighter together. “I swear, I-” “Say it.” That voice of his, so cold and hateful as it spits out orders that only you ever hear, did nothing for your aching need. The need for his hands, his dcik, every inch of his body getting the most use out of yours whether on or in you.

Geto is not a patient man right now, and you’ve made him wait. Feeling his spit land on your face, trailing down your left cheek barely deterred by your jolt, snaps you out of your horny mental praisings. “Say it.” “I am a useless s|ut.” “Yes you fucking are.” Taking two steps back, both of his big, warm hands had a hold on your head now, forcing you to lose your balance as he pulled forward. You could only pathetically stumble, hands frantically trying to lay flat on the tatami to keep you up as he pressed and rubbed your face on his clothed boner, sweet sighs and grunts leaving him at the friction you provided. His soft clothes, his rough pulling, the scent of him and his body, all melted into a sensory mix that had you losing your mind. The fire between your legs begged to have him in you, to get hate fucked with the misdirected anger that did not belong to you. “Please. Please, master, let me please you-” “You don’t fucking deserve myco.ck.”

When he finally let go of your hair, it was solely to pull your mouth open, pressing it uncomfortably around the shape of his painfully confined dcik. “It needed you and where were you? Struggling to take on some low grade curses like a useless bitch. I taught you better than this.” The feeling was hard to describe, with the fabric drying your flattened tongue but whatever saliva remained in your mouth dripping down your chin. It was uncomfortable, it was icky, it was fucking humiliating- and it had you hopelessly horny. Geto could only watch in impressed disgust how you crawled to close the distance between your bodies once more, your hands clinging to his clothes desperately like a sick man imploring to be saved by his god. He felt his leg settle warm and heavy, his tabi socks being the only barrier between him and your need as your crotch grinded on the bridge of his foot. “God, you’re disgusting-...” his words left him in a snarl, but they weren’t near mean enough to hide the smirk gracing his lips. On the other hand, you had began miserably lapping at his clothed dcik, aching for any amount of service that you could provide for your one and only; it was messy, it was gross, it was trying to get all the flavour of his dcik while frustratingly not being allowed to have him in you. It wasn’t any prettier when you whined and panted your words against him, desperate to get another chance. “Please, please, please! I will do anything, I will be anything, just please let me please you. I can’t be anything if I’m not serving you, I need it, I need you!”

Suguru sighed like a disappointed parent, rubbing the wrinkle between his eyebrows before looking down at you pitifully once more, hand on his hip. “No different from a bitch in heat… I guess you really have become nothing but my cocksleeve.” He pulled his leg away from you, pushing you back so you’d fall on your ass as he took his sweet time crouching, grabbing your face with a painful strength. The oh so familiar cruel smile of his sent a thrill through you, knowing nothing good ever came with his feigned sweetness.

“Go on. Earn it.”

I know, bit of a short one ( ||–𓋰– )=3 It's my first time ever writing a one-shot, and the prompt didn't bring enough explicit creativity to me (may have to do with it being 4:00 a.m.) But hey, at least it's out. If you have criticisms: Be nice or I'll cry ♡ Sorry for the anticlimactic wrap up, I'm saving up the explicit smut for the next prompt.

I went through hell to be able to post this... all for a mediocre piece, oof!

🌸Describing Scents For Writers 🌸| List of Scents

Describing aromas can add a whole new layer to your storytelling, immersing your readers in the atmosphere of your scenes. Here's a categorized list of different words to help you describe scents in your writing.

🌿 Fresh & Clean Scents

Crisp

Clean

Pure

Refreshing

Invigorating

Bright

Zesty

Airy

Dewy

Herbal

Minty

Oceanic

Morning breeze

Green grass

Rain-kissed

🌼 Floral Scents

Fragrant

Sweet

Floral

Delicate

Perfumed

Lush

Blooming

Petaled

Jasmine

Rose-scented

Lavender

Hibiscus

Gardenia

Lilac

Wildflower

🍏 Fruity Scents

Juicy

Tangy

Sweet

Citrusy

Tropical

Ripe

Pungent

Tart

Berry-like

Melon-scented

Apple-blossom

Peachy

Grape-like

Banana-esque

Citrus burst

🍂 Earthy & Woody Scents

Musky

Earthy

Woody

Grounded

Rich

Smoky

Resinous

Pine-scented

Oak-like

Cedarwood

Amber

Mossy

Soil-rich

Sandalwood

Forest floor

☕ Spicy & Warm Scents

Spiced

Warm

Cozy

Inviting

Cinnamon-like

Clove-scented

Nutmeg

Ginger

Cardamom

Coffee-infused

Chocolatey

Vanilla-sweet

Toasted

Roasted

Hearth-like

🏭 Industrial & Chemical Scents

Metallic

Oily

Chemical

Synthetic

Acrid

Pungent

Foul

Musty

Smoky

Rubber-like

Diesel-scented

Gasoline

Paint-thinner

Industrial

Sharp

🍃 Natural & Herbal Scents

Herbal

Aromatic

Earthy

Leafy

Grass-like

Sage-scented

Basil-like

Thyme-infused

Rosemary

Chamomile

Green tea

Wild mint

Eucalyptus

Cinnamon-bark

Clary sage

🎉 Unique & Uncommon Scents

Antique

Nostalgic

Ethereal

Enigmatic

Exotic

Haunted

Mysterious

Eerie

Poignant

Dreamlike

Surreal

Enveloping

Mesmerizing

Captivating

Transcendent

I hope this list can help you with your writing. 🌷✨

Feel free to share your favorite scent descriptions in the replies below! What scents do you love to incorporate into your stories?

Happy Writing! - Rin T.

Wishing you all an exciting Kinktober, my dear writers.

you need to remember to blog with your pussy first and brain second

To all my writers who have a tough time with smut terms and not knowing which ones to use, I have found the holy grail for us.

This reddit user took a poll of 3,500 people and went really in depth with asking their favorite terminology, along with actual pie charts on what the readers preferred to see in their smut.

Here's the direct link to the Google doc with all the info!

KINKTOBER DAY THREE: bondage with nanami.

kinktober masterlist

Nanami, your other half, is meticulous and an overbearing perfectionist on the best of days. You love it about him, love the way that when it comes to you, everything has to be perfect to no fault. You love his dedication to the simplest of things, his attention to detail, you love his patience.

You don't love it when he's using said perfectionism to prolong your time being tied up. You see it in his pretty eyes, that knowing look—he's not taking his time for the sake of perfection, he's taking the time to perv on those frustrated whines that you let out the longer he takes.

Your wrists are bound at your front, a soft shibari rope wrapped around your skin. He had picked it out himself, opted for a more expensive option as it was less likely to irritate your skin—after all, you're being bound to further enjoy yourself, not to decorate your skin with marks he'd much rather leave with his mouth.

Still, he works on the rope around your waist with no sign of eagerness or a rush towards completion. Instead, he continues to watch your body in what looks like a clinical examination, hands working gracefully as he knots the rope against your skin and builds a harness, no doubt good to hold onto so you can't start to shift away once thinks become overbearing. You sit on your shared bed, eyes heavy and stuck on his face as he works—calculated ministries become just a little quicker as you pout.

"Ken," you whine, subconsciously trying to pry your wrists apart to grab at your lover. Your fingers find nothing but air, your arms bound, rendering you useless.

"I'm almost done," he says calmly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He finishes before any other complaints can leave your lips, though you suspect he could have been finished fifteen minutes ago if the sight of rope against your bare skin didn't send blood right down to his cock.

He stands back from where he's working with satisfaction, a pleased look in his eyes that makes you want to squirm, wanting to crawl into his lap and beg forgiveness for whatever you might have done wrong in your past life if it means he'll just fuck you already. But you keep your head up, eyes set on his.

Your legs are bound thigh-to-calf, your throbbing cunt forced onto display by your bindings—if Kento were a worse man he'd leave you like this, bound with a vibrator against your pretty clit for hours on end as he files some paperwork or catches up on the novel he's been reading.

And although the thought is enticing, turning your moans and drawling orgasms into ambient music for the house you share, he's a selfish man at heart and could never deprive himself of you—not when you're like this.

"I think you're beautiful, my love," he leans over you, brushing a cool knuckle over your warmed cheek. A flush spreads across your cheeks, warmth blooming in your belly. His touch doesn't last long, his hand trailing off your shoulder and dipping down to tug at the rope that twists around your torso.

"You're perfect, you know that?" He tries again, and pulls so hard on your rig that your back meets the mattress and, all of a sudden, your Kento is hovering over you, cock hard against his slacks. "And you know that I love you."

"I know," you nod.

His hands fumble for his belt, and he's hooking his cock out of his pants in the same breath—too eager to fully undress. "I appreciate your trust in me," he tugs at a rope around your thigh to get you just that little bit closer to him; you can feel the heavy weight of his length against your stomach—and he can see just how deep inside of you he will be soon enough, "Though I fear seeing you tied up like this… it makes it hard to be gentle with you, love."

You lean up to kiss his jaw, his lips, anything you and reach while bound so intently. "I don't need you to be gentle with me. I am at your disposal."

Something in your lilt breaks the band of resistance that holds your lover still—he groans as he presses forward, pushing into you without any preamble. You're beyond wet, he hardly feels bad for not prepping you on his tongue beforehand. He has plans of ruining you with his mouth once he's fucked you full of him. "How can I possibly deny you?"

As he bottoms out inside of you, Kento grabs the rope that binds your wrist and lifts them above your head, pressing them into the sheets and rendering you completely motionless. Try as you might, you can't move an inch—you're entirely at his lust-glossed mercy. "That's better, hm? Much easier now, yes?" He pushes deeper into you, grunting out as he fills you in. "You don't have to think, don't have to move, you don't have to anything but take me."

The words are familiar to you—you've heard them hundreds of times before. In the throes of ecstasy, they sound like a lullaby to you—though this time there's some truth to his words. A genuine lack of need to move, to speak, to try and keep your hips at pace with his. As Nanami pulls back, drags his aching cock out of you before rutting right back into your tight core, you're able to completely relinquish control.

And god is it narcotic. The ruthless pace that he sets, muscles that cord his arms keep you in place as he bullies his cock into you. His mean thrusts are occasionally broken up with an open-mouthed kiss to your waiting lips, though the world is spinning too fast for you to register much other than raw, undiluted pleasure. You barely have the voice to announce your orgasm, let alone ask for permission to cum, so when your orgasm wracks through you like tropical waves against a cliffside, your lover can't help but bite at your exposed neck in feigned disappointment.

"Oh, love," he coos, but doesn't slow the roll of his hips even slightly. "You know I don't like it when you don't use your words."

You can't, not with the way he's fucking a second orgasm into you before you've even recovered from your first. Not when you're bound so tight that you know you have no way out of his ministries, not that you want one. You haven't felt so blissed-out in a long time, and there is no place safer to lose your mind than in Kento's arms. Though there's a dangerous lilt to his voice when he leans own, thrusts sharp into your overstimulated pussy, and whispers against your ear. "You're going to wait, and you're going to cum alongside me, love."

It's all too much, your vision is near-white with hot pleasure and you worry that you'll never think a straight thought again if he keeps rendering you dumb like this. You try desperately to climb up the bed, away from his overwhelming size, but he's got an iron-wraught grip on your bindings. "Ah," he chides. "Don't run, take me- I know you can."

The moans that rip from your throat are made for porn, especially in conjuncture with his groans and bitten praises. It's not long before his ruthless pace starts to falter, and the slap of skin against bruising skin starts to stutter as your lover reaches climax.

"With me," he chokes, the hand that had held your wrists up finally falling down to rub relentless circles over your sensitive clit. You're overwhelmed, orgasm cresting almost painfully as your mind blanks and you come harder than you think you ever have before. Nanami releases inside of you, his free hand holding you as close as humanly possible through your bindings.

And once he's cum, stolen a few breaths to steady himself enough to lift himself up and look down at you, Kento Nanami fears he might be a bad man. Because with the way you look, tear stained cheeks and complete lack of freedom, he can't help the words that slip from his lips.

"You can handle another, can't you, love?"

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