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reorientation · 2 months

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Hi there, it’s the “Ten Year Itch” anon here!

I know it’s been a little bit but just wanted to provide an update. 😊 So in my last submissions I’d talked about a man who wasn’t local to me, that didn’t end up working out (but that’s okay)!

I know things to on this blog tend to be more on the “not soft” (I’m not sure the best way to put it) so my update may not be a thing most folks are into, which I am sorry for.

I ended up giving in to the thoughts I’ve been having and as a result, I met a man locally and decided to try going on a few dates with him. He’s a total gentleman and very respectful, which I know may be a turn off for some folks but for me has been shamefully arousing. I’ve never been treated so well by anyone, even by women. Needless to say, we decided to become an exclusive couple. 💕

Introducing him as my boyfriend has been a both nerve racking and exciting experience. The looks on people’s faces when I tell them I’m dating is usually surprise and followed by them congratulating. I even formally introduced him to my parents.

We haven’t had sex yet and he knows I’ve never been with a man. He’s been patient and wants to make it a pleasurable, safe experience which I really appreciate (boring, I know). He tells me often how hot he finds it that I haven’t been with a man, and that I’m basically a virgin. He says he can’t wait to be my first and only. We’ve made out plenty, and that usually turns into humping. Every time we get that far I get so wet, he’s even been able to feel how wet I’ve gotten through pants.

Most recently we masturbated together and it was such a lovely experience. It was the first time I’ve seen a man cum in person, and it was so nice to orgasm while laying my head on his chest. I look forward to our first time together and will probably send an update when it happens!

Thanks for taking the time to read this, I know it’s not like the usual content on your blog. Thank you for giving me the courage to give in to my natural desires and accept my role. 💕🌸

(Previously)

Aww, sweetheart! I don't know why you thought I would be disappointed - not every girl needs to get raped into submission, as long as she submits. ❤️

In fact, in some ways, it's sweeter like this. Ten years with a gold star, "resisting as hard as I can, trying to remind myself I’m a lesbian and hate cock"... and then the right man comes along and all of that just naturally falls away.

Some girls have to be forced, you know. Some girls struggle and scream as they lose their gold stars. But you just went around introducing everyone to the man who's going to push his cock into you.

What do you think that tells everyone, when a lifelong lesbian blushingly introduces her new boyfriend? Is it going to help anyone believe that "lesbianism" is real, and not just a phase some girls go through? And when you tell "other lesbians", do you think you're the only one getting wet?

I'm proud of you, sweetie, and so glad I could help. You're going to be such a good example for other girls.

(And do come back and tell us when he lets you trade in your gold star in exchange for being an obedient whore for him.)

#kink interactions #reorientation writing #reor: anon ask #lgetsd #reor: anon life story #reor: ten year itch anon

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lottiecrabie · 1 year

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Could u write smth for George pls<3

Could u write a George smut with size kink? I wanna climb that man so bad it’s not even funny

could you do a smutty george piece where he can’t wait till you get home so after the gif he fucks you in the alleyway next to the stage door :)

this was written in a franctic at 2am lol. finally some george smut<3

After a show leaving you hot and needy, George can't wait to fuck you. Literally cannot wait.

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, size kink

1649 words

George has long, insatiable fingers. He flexes them around his drumsticks, extensions of himself he’s stopped thinking of. He dips his head to the beat. Something catches the light; you can’t see from your spot backstage, but you know it’s a series of rings decorating his hands. Your thighs clench.

God, he’s fucking gorgeous.

Sculpted, hard and sharp, cut to fit in the palms of your dirty hands. You watch him play, ignoring the twisting heat inside of you. The music is some ambient noise you barely register. You only hear the drilling drum, beating to the throbbing need between your legs.

George catches your eyes, an indulgent second mid-song. You smile at him, coy, full of siren warning. A smirk breaks his face. Promises, promises.

The concert goes well. George searches for you afterwards, picking you up in his arms, sweat sticking to your black dress. His limbs swallow you whole; strong things, hard and flexed around your waist, enough to choke you if he desired. You lick your lips as he drops you back to your booted feet.

He towers over you. You have to tilt your chin just to stare at him, getting on your tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

At least, you would if he didn’t dodge your lips, smacking your cheek instead.

“Don’t tease,” you try to warn, but it comes out more like a plea.

“No?” He pouts at you. You fall back on your heels, scowling at his games. Instead of finding pity on you, he laughs, loud and open-throated. “How’d you like the show?” He asks warmly.

“Hated it,” you answer bitterly.

George grabs a handful of your ass, tapping it softly in warning. “Don’t brat.”

“Don’t kiss, don’t brat, what can I do?”

“Definitely not mouth me off,” George chuckles, but there’s some underlying threat.

Of course, it doesn’t exactly have the desired effect: some twisting want spreads through your limbs. You clench your thighs, parting your lips in open desire.

“You’re incorrigible,” he whispers, and he has to bend down near your ear. You shiver at the words; rough, gravelly tone in your hair. Indulgently, he grazes a kiss under your jaw. You can’t hold back a moan.

You throw an arm over his neck, racking a hand through his short, blond hair, like that would be enough to keep him there. Like you could control him.

“George, please,” you whimper, feeling yourself grow wetter by the second. He blows on your ear just to watch it reverb inside of you, scrunching your face to stop some embarrassing moan.

George chuckles, stepping away from you. You groan, dissatisfied, looking up at him. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, no. It’s official. I really hate you.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re so dramatic.”

You gasp. “I am in pain.” Devil may care attitude, trying to prove your point, you take one of his large hands, drawing it under your dress to the pool of sopping need waiting for him. His breath hitches, and you stop yourself from smirking. “I need you,” you whine, just to bring it home.

George isn’t the only one with games.

“Fuck, love.” Languidly, he runs two callused fingers over your folds, playing with your growing pool of wetness. You bite your lips, throwing your head back, shaking from the resonating fire it creates inside of you.

You’ll melt down on his hands. You just hope he can catch the wax of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, already sounding affected. Good, you think, perhaps selfishly. See how it feels.

Coming back to the ball of your feet, you draw his head down with your tightening hold on his hair. You lick the sweat of his jaw; salty and sweet, just like him. “George. Fuck me.”

He groans, shoulders shuddering. “Fuck it.”

He always acts like you’re so needy and he’s so controlled. Yet, you always get him there with some breathy words.

Grabbing your wrist, George drags you through the venue, trying to find some unlocked closet to throw you in and have his sinful way with you. You try to follow with his long legs, practically skipping behind him, glowing before the sex even happens.

Of course, life would be cruel and send only closed doors your way. George sighs in frustration. “Let’s just fucking go home.”

He takes the exit, frantically looking around for a cab. The street is empty, and there’s an alley tucked behind you. You sneak a hand over his shoulder, sticking against his toned back. “I’ll start without you.” You warn, more to tease on the time it’s taking than any real threat.

He knows this, still grunting, “No, you won’t.”

You hum, letting go of him just to hint a hand under your dress. George flips to you, grabbing your second wrist. His fingers surround them, rings pressing in your skin. You smile innocently.

“You can’t fucking stop yourself,” he says, low.

Taunting, you quip, “I was just gonna scratch an itch.”

Moving your two wrists into one hand, he slams you against the bricked wall of the alley. He uses his free hand to pick you up by the thigh, throwing you over hips up. You circle his waist with your legs, trapping him inside of them.

Just the feel of his cock under his jeans, long and hard and practically begging for you, is enough to have you moaning.

“Is this what you wanted?”

It’s probably some taunt, but you answer truthfully, “Yes.”

You want to touch him. His cutting jaw, his short hair, his muscled shoulders. You want the feel of him under your greedy palms, but he still holds your hands firmly against the bricks.

Bending down, he licks a filthy trail of spit on your breasts, biting on the skin. You can’t stop a cry, throwing your head against the wall. “George.”

“I’ll destroy you.” And he would. Long and tall and strong, capable of breaking your ribs. You’d welcome it, head spinning at the memory of his long fingers spreading across the bones.

“Lot of talking and not a lot of doing.”

He huffs at your cheekiness, pressing your wrists tighter. It’ll leave some red marks you’ll have to hide behind long sleeves in fucking May. You’ll tug at them all day tomorrow, pulling them back when you’re by yourself just to stare at the blotches in the form of his rings.

Finally, George has to let you go, using all his effort to work at his belt buckle. You shimmy the dress up your hips, moaning when you’re finally free to rock against his hardness.

Hands out of jail, you grab his neck. “Kiss me.” Not a plea, a demand.

He scoffs, pulling his black jeans down. “Like you’ve earned it.” You’re about to pout, but he finally frees his wonderful cock, and you’re more busy gazing than anything else.

God, he’s magnificent. Long and thick, with a vein running on the underside, curving just enough to hit a wonderful spot inside of you. You practically salivate at the sight of him.

Of course, he knows this, smirking softly as he pets your hair. “I won’t be gentle.”

“I wouldn’t want you to be.”

George enters you with one powerful thrust. He doesn’t bother building up to anything, just fucks into you with some brutal, feverish pace. You can’t do anything but hold onto his shoulder and mewl, purring in his ear as he lights burning pleasure in the deepest parts of you.

“Shit, George.”

He sloppily kisses your cheek, moving down to bite on your earlobe. Bliss pours of you. You scrunch your eyes, throbbing around him.

“I love you like this.”

You snort. “You’re such a man.”

“You fit perfectly around me,” George continues, undeterred by your mocking. “Don’t you? I’m splitting you up. Like you open up just for my cock.”

“Your fingers too,” you moan, rocking your hips to rub your clit against him. He takes the hint, dropping one hand to circle your needy bundle of nerves. There, too, he doesn’t bother with niceties, swiping furiously until you’re drooling.

His hips snap against yours faster, carelessly chasing some high. Thank God the street is quiet, echoing the sound of your spineless whimpers.

“Kiss me,” you say, because you hate coming without his mouth on yours. George smirks, knowing this, knowing you’d ask eventually. “Come on. Kiss me, please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because—“ You sigh in frustration. Uncontrollable pleasure builds inside of you, pressing on your belly. He thrusts with abandon, some hard pace hitting the most wonderful places. You’re close. You’re definitely close.

Most importantly, you’re desperate. “Because I need you to. Because I can’t come without you kissing me. I was made for this. I was made for you. Please, please, George. Kiss me. Let me come.”

He laughs, bending down to press a heated kiss on your lips. You part them instinctively, moaning in his mouth as he licks your tongue.

You love him. You love him.

With a final stroke, you fall apart on his cock, screaming as waves of pure euphoria hit you in a dizzying tsunami. Relief washes over you, uncoiling the tense muscles. Your head drops on his shoulder, smiling happily as he continues to snap into you.

“My pretty girl.” You nod faintly.

George is quick to follow behind you, thrusts growing erratic as he finally finds this stupid high he has been missioned on. He groans in your hair, spilling inside of you, shuddering. You kiss his jaw softly, smiling.

When you finally trust your legs again, he puts you back down on the ground, tucking the underwear over your cunt to trap his leaking cum, carefully lowering the skirt of your dress again.

He smiles cheekily, kissing you. “How’s your itch?”

You hum, playful. “It’ll be better after another one.”

#george daniel smut #george daniel #george daniel imagine #george daniel x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #smut #imagine #writing #request #i don't think i fully achieved the size kink bc i didn't want to be overly specific of reader's body....#back to my essays now!#how’s your itch

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sneezarify · 10 months

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Oh hello nose, thank you for waking me up.

I get it, you’re itchy, but can’t you just wait until the morning???

#Nose is on fire #I keep getting really fkin itchy nosed #It comes on intensely #My nose throat and eyes start to itch #I start to hitch #And then I. Don’t snz half as much as I need to #Now I’ll be stuck sniffly n itchy for a while #Hope I fall asleep #snzblr #snz fet #snz kink #sneeze kink #self obs #keeping quiet is hard #snzfucker #hayfever szn #My nooooooose!!#sneezing fit

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holysaintscathedral · 2 months

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Low-key embarrassing the effect an Irish accent has on me. Like good God woman, learn some self respect.

#idk man their accent just itches a part of my brain just right #idk how else to explain it #😩#voice kink #sure I'll tag it as that #is related anyway

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reorientation · 4 months

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I’ve been a lesbian a for about ten years. I’ve only ever been in relationships with cis-women and I’m a gold star lesbian. I’ve always had a breeding kink but things have changed. My last relationship ended over a year ago and there were times while in that relationship my girlfriend would say I’d leave her for a man and that I wasn’t a lesbian. We eventually broke up but not because I had left her for a man. In the over a year since we’ve broken up I’ve found myself more and more desperate to be bred and knocked up.

This growing desperation led me back on to Tumblr and I fell down the rabbit hole that led me here. Now all I can seem to think about is being made to submit to a man who turns me from smart and independent to just a dumb little girl desperate to be kept bare foot and pregnant. It makes me so wet to think about what it would be like to give up everything to just become a breeding bimbo for some man.

I don’t know how to escape these feelings. I don’t know how to stop getting wet from such thoughts. It’d ruin my life if I just gave everything up to serve men and get pregnant. I’m resisting as hard as I can, trying to remind myself I’m a lesbian and hate cock but it’s so hard and I end up masturbating to the fantasy every night.

I’m hoping I’ll be able to stop all these thoughts soon and that I don’t make any dumb decisions. Thank you for creating a place where I could let this all out (love the blog, keep it up)!

-🌸💕

Oh, you poor thing. ❤️ It's so hard, isn't it? Knowing that your gold star is all that stands between you and a swelling belly. Having those little pink thoughts about being an empty-headed slut for a man find their way to your pussy, and stay there, making you ache with emptiness.

It must be very confusing for you. Your head tells you that you're a lesbian, that you've shaped your whole life around that, but your womb keeps whispering to you about there being another way. A new purpose. A whole new identity, where all you would have to do is what comes naturally.

I'm sure you won't do anything ill-advised, though, right? You're smart. You're not really a brainless breeding bitch, are you? No matter how good that sounds. No matter how many nights you've come hard to the thought of a man giving you an empty head and a full belly.

I mean, you're a lesbian, aren't you? It's not like you need a man to make you complete.

#kink interactions #reorientation writing #reor: anon ask #lgetsd #lesbian breeding #reor: ten year itch anon

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badmooncomic · 6 months

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Priest/Demon is done for members of the Kinky Boots tier <3 Check out all 4 images of them being nsft below ⬇️

#our art #nsft #patreon #demons #priest kink #already itching to do a comic with them ngl

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scummy-writes · 8 months

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I feel like me getting into ikepri is the result of New Thing To Focus On ( I have focused on isaac for almost 4 years straight, my first fanfic with him was in jan of 2020, and I know I liked him a bit before that), but also... accounts I follow getting more into ikepri also.

I use twibber mainly for a lot of ikeseries content, like following a lot of JP fanartists on there and such. I rarely run into character hate on there, I don't get weird messages claiming im a fake fan or whatever, and its just. Idk. I have more luck finding content without having to dig through a lot of negativity towards those who like the game/characters.

But now a lot of fanartists I follow have either deleted their account, or they've switched to primarily posting about ikepri. I think that also just inadvertently caused me to get into it more.

I miss a lot of the accounts I follow that are just Gone now though. I almost miss being excited about new events in ikevamp and stuff. Now, the writing has been such a steady train of poor quality and predictability for events that I just. Idk. I'm not as excited anymore, and it sucks. I was hyped for the election, but the prizes were so...???? Ugh.

I still play the game, at least log in a few times a week. I still love the characters to death. Ive just also focused a Lot on the game for the past few years, so a New Thing to have fun with has been preoccuping me. I miss having a lot of random conversations about vamp, though...

I don't know how much stuff im gonna write for ikepri, but I think I have to admit its in the roster now. Ikevamp stuff might be squished inbetween them because I am waiting for ikevamp to bring me more genuine excitement again.

#scum talks #this whole thing sounds like “im not gonna write ikevamp anymore :(” but fuck that i AM im just not as motivated now #ive written isaac and theo getting pegged. i should write arthur too one day.#ive written fluff. i have more wips. i have two wip series to work on. the desire to fuck isaac within an inch of his life still persists.#just now i have an itch to explore the same topics but new charas.#isaac also was all the fluffier kinks and gil allows me to go back to the not so fluffy kinks #hm #i miss having fun

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devotionbled · 8 months

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Apostle of Flames

I want to discuss something super interesting. I might be a dumb dumb and delusional to see it, but here we are. But I have a trope that I love that's utterly delicious, which is why I am fascinated by the dynamic between Joshua and Jote. I can only write and describe it, but cults and things!!! Being raised by people who worship you!! Being raised alongside a disciple who has been with you since age 6??? Insanity!! I'm putting this under read more because it got long. Let me know what you think.

Joshua is the embodiment of what the Undying have been worshipping for eons. He has been dying for ages, and he still hasn't perished. They saw that in raising him from a coma instead of serving from the shadows. Imagine what that does to a cult? To see it up close.

He's godtouched. Eyes seeking beyond where land and sea meet the sky, so embraced for a yearning for holy salvation--to seek the answers for what has happened. His reality is different, more holy, more glorious despite being a dying man. He is untouchable until he isn't.

The Undying love him. On the subject of Jote--and on mine, whether it is one-sided or not, I like exploring this in the trope I can't remember the name for now. Essentially, Jote is an attendant and a disciple, yeah? But it is plain she loves him; it is something she was taught at the Undying's feet, but it grew into a beast in her heart. That love has teeth, savaging her. It is all she knows. He is more her than she is herself. He is him, nothing of her staining him. Identities blur upon her own temple.

Devotion, no matter how engulfing it is, it doesn't matter. Because Joshua is marching to his death. Even if he did love her back the same, even if he did love her with the same ardour and pain beyond affection of comradeship and friendship, I don't think it could ever compare to how much she adores and loves him.

It will never compare.

To the core, I'm trying to articulate: Jote will never be loved to the same depth that she loves him. And that alone is vicious and hideous. She will never compare to the promise of recovering the world from the brink of destruction. Joshua is divine transcendence, and he cannot be touched.

Jote is the divine sword, divine violence, in the eye of the capricious Undying. In their name--no, in the Phoenix, she is a revolution. Her revolution is in the liberation of her own heart. Yes, she was taught to love him, and her heart was devoured by cruelty in the abyss of nothingness. Why else would a child, Kihel, be a potential victim of her shielding of the Phoenix? In regards to my personal headcanons, it will be an exercise in valour to learn what is beyond holy murder and the lesson in how when you die, there is no coming back. Love is a revolt, and he will always damn her beyond his death. In the depths of her adoration, she will be haunted by his ghost.

I do think Jote is a weird canvas of lessons taught in sacrifice. Forsaking humanity, your own body, for who is dying. Flames are kind, flames are warm--and she is hollowed out by them. It is scripture upon her soul; she has long been desecrated by something beyond devotion. It is an exercise in having no heart to adore a messiah.

#;ooc #;meta #;headcanon #its so SAD #;it is an exercise in having no heart to adore a messiah #oh look i have a tag #this probably doesn't make sense but my bad #this is me procrastinating from my studies don't mind me #i am so so passionate #i might have a narrative kink actually #urg it itches my soul #blame my upbringing on high literary journals and mythology

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