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#cis female
helveticandy · 2 months
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Here is some smut I wrote quite a while back :P. I wrote it before I knew of HDG but i guess I can use it as a stepping stone to writing HDG stuff. The character is a cis female in this one.
TW: non con
Tentacles/vines/sci-fi
Amelia lowers her sleek ship into the pit on the planet’s surface, its blue thrusters kicking up foliage and making the dark plants dance. Its tripod landing gear extends and touches down on the mossy ground, gradually taking the entire load of the ship until the thrusters fully power down, clicking with the undoing of thermal expansion.
Amelia pulls a lever and lowers the loading ramp onto the moist surface. A small laser hologram grabs a few particles in the air, swinging it around making it let off a soft hum. The image warps into a small screen and shows the atmosphere to be breathable and, despite being under a red sun, safe temperatures. Amelia goes back inside the ship for a moment to take off her suit, coming back out in her skin tight jumpsuit and boots, an emergency belt slung over her shoulder as she descends. She had always hated wearing the suits, they got too hot too quick.
The trip had been a long one, the starship’s air always got stuffy after a week or two in the recycler. She had always been tempted to open a few pure oxygen containers to restore the fresh scent but had thought it best to do otherwise.
Amelia takes a long draw of breath through her nose, holding it for a few moments, noting the humidity and greenhouse like smell before exhaling through her mouth. She glances at the hologram.
Time to get this mission done.
She had been sent to this planet so affectionately called [C116-A2] to take readings on the environment. The heavy clouds had obscured the satellites and the probes were all unable to find a foothold due to the ground absorbing their scanner signals. This planet has been a massive resource sink and there are billions more planets to explore. Amelia was essentially a last ditch effort from command before giving up. So she wasn’t given much other than a few basic samplers and a light.
She pushes through the underbrush, the plants are a dark coloration from millions of years of evolution to absorb as much light from their dwarf sun as possible. Amelia gets on her knees and attaches a small white sampler to a leaf. It whirs for a few seconds before blinking green, letting off a cheerful ding, and pricking a hole in the plant like a hole punch. Immediately storing it away in preservative to be taken back to the lab.
Amelia goes around quickly to an assortment of different plants and mosses that cover the environment. Each one chiming in sequence.
She spends the next few Earth hours digging around and recollecting samples. When she is done hauling back all the samples she sits down on the soft ground and lets out an exhausted sigh. Although the nano fabrics of the jumpsuit did their best, sweat was starting to stain it. Nothing a wash can’t fix, she thinks.
She doesn’t even register a nearby plant vine slithering through the brush and opening up to reveal a small prong. By the time she realizes and jumps up to run, its too late, the vine springs forward and stabs into her thigh.
Amelia yelps with shock and rips off the vine. Throwing it back where it came from. Her steps start smoothly but begin to trip over each other as she staggers toward her ship. Her vision tunnels away into a point as she reaches forward. Falling limp onto the ground. Unconscious.
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Amelia can feel the dark warmth of the red sun against her eyelids, the ground moist against her back. Her thoughts are a slurry as she tries to form a coherent thought.
What happened?
She tries to roll over but finds that she is incapable of doing so, rings of vines have shackled her to the moss. When she tries to lift her head up another rope of vine has restrained her by the neck. A set of vines squirm against her inner thigh and wrap over where her legs meet her hips into more looping chains of plants.
Shit shit shit. God damnit. I should have worn my fucking suit.
Amelia frantically brings up her cognator to check her vitals.
Pulse, good. Breathing rate, a little higher than normal. Blood, stable. Nutrience, Perfect. Everything is surprisingly ok. Hell, things look great. Wait, what is it doing?!
An exploratory probe vine finds the seam of fabric around her ankle where her jumpsuit meets her skin. It wriggles into the jumpsuit and begins to slither up Amelia’s leg.
Amelia does her best to kick away but the fibers of the vines are like vices. Noticing the fightback, the vine going up Amelia's jumpsuit starts to secrete moisture. Lubricating its way up her back and once around her waist. Eventually to the edge of the jumpsuit’s inbuilt bra.
Amelia arches upward in reaction to the wetness, straining every limb against the foliage. But it strains back, Amelia lets out a sharp and pathetic moan.
It's not hurting me, per say… and my vitals are ok….
She squeezes her thighs together and another vine senses the heat. Bolting for her core. It slides up from the ground and meets the firm fabric protecting Amelia's slick warmth.
No way Im wet from this… I mean… I guess it couldn't hurt…. For science, right?
Amelia untenses her muscles, letting her legs be pulled apart ever so slightly by the vines. The vines take advantage, going up through the thin seams of her sleeves and legs. The jumpsuit strained to keep a skin tight fit. They lubricate themselves and glide across her body, ghosting against her nipple with thin strands while others massage her inner thighs and gently squeeze her neck.
Amelia takes a sharp breath when she feels the two vines on her inner thigh travel to the outer lips of her warmth. Leaving trails of slime. They hold there with a gentle pressure all the while the other vines lift her hips from the ground and spread her a little further. The vines around her outer lips brush against Amelia's clit. She shivers and lets out a soft breath. Feeling herself get a little wetter. The plants feel the moisture and send smaller, string-like tendrils against either side of Amelia's clit and begin massaging out bolts of pleasure that make her hiss out a moan.
The tendril that had laid itself between Amelia's legs digs at the outside of her jumpsuit. Finding a hold and tearing the meticulously engineered nanofiber until there was a hole large enough for it to reveal Amelia's slit to the humid air. The vine draws itself from Amelia's clit down to the source of her moisture. Instinct kicks in and it laps at her warmth, absorbing moisture made with each carnal wave of pleasure. Amelia, through the haze of enjoyment, feels the vines tense up for a moment. The one drinking up her wetness pauses, then, slithers inside of her. It presses up against her g-spot and her mind goes blank. Her muscles in her core and thighs tensing up with the rhythm of the vine within her.
Amelia writhes and moans in ecstasy, the only thing holding her back being the dark, alien vines as she reaches her peak. Falling over the edge into rippling shockwaves of orgasm.
The vines lay Amelia against the soft moss, where they rub out the places they wrapped a little too tightly. Once done, they retreat back into the brush. Leaving Amelia still panting in the quiet clearing in which not moments ago had echoed her moans.
I… Would consider this… successful….
Holy fuck I needed that…
She takes a few moments before getting up, walking to her ship while still shaking with light aftershocks of pleasure and endorphins. She sits in the cockpit, raises up the ramp, completes the startup sequence, and begins her journey to drop off the plant samples at the lab stationed on Europa. She pulls up her holographic screen and marks a personal note about the planet.
[visit again soon]
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montysstuffs · 2 years
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It Will Come Back
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Request: omg. could u maybe write more mean nick smut with fem reader😭 got me thinking thoughts
Warnings: name calling (slut, Bunny, angel, baby), a bit of degrading, orgasm denial. NICK IS MEAN, ONCE AGAIN! Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) Summary: Your jealous ex comes by for some “closure” after your breakup. Word Count: 1.8K
AN: I was supposed to have had this posted last night, I know. But it’s fiiiiine. Music inspires me to write so many things, so I was inspired by It Will Come Back by Hozier. I’m definitely gonna be doing more song fics, so if you have recommendations, let me knooooww! If there are a few mistakes, I also apologize about that!!! It was proofread like once, so there’s that!
Upon the arrival into your room, you are greeted with an already open window. The wind seeping through bit at your cheeks and arms. Causing a shiver to be sent up your spine.“Did you miss me baby?” You tense up as you are stunned to turn around and see a familiar figure. You hated to say it, but you actually did. Missed how familiar his cologne was to you, late nights cruising down random roads. The spontaneity of your adventures. What you don’t miss, however, is how he always seemed to get into a fight with any and everyone around him. Walking around with his chest puffed up, looking for more than a few fights.
Upon the arrival into your room, you are greeted with an already open window. The wind seeping through bit at your cheeks and arms. Causing a shiver to be sent up your spine.“Did you miss me baby?” You tense up as you are stunned to turn around and see a familiar figure. You hated to say it, but you actually did. Missed how familiar his cologne was to you, late nights cruising down random roads. The spontaneity of your adventures. What you don’t miss, however, is how he always seemed to get into a fight with any and everyone around him. Walking around with his chest puffed up, looking for more than a few fights.
It wasn't until he saw you under another man's arm, that he realized what he had missed. Whether he was a friend or not didn't matter. What did matter is that he couldn't deny that he wanted you.
Music filled the spaces of silence in between you both. Not knowing whether to throw him out, or ask how he got inside in the first place, you stood baffled. Tears began to well into the corners of your eyes. How could he just think he has the right back into your life after all of the hell he put you through. 
Don't let me in with no
Intention to keep me
Jesus Christ' don't be kind to me
Honey, dont feed me,
i will come back
“There we are. Give us a hug. Are you done throwing your tantrum now?” There it is. That smug attitude that made you dump him in the first place.
“My tantrum?” You scoff and rolls your eyes at him. Not even having the capacity to argue with him right now.
“Yes, your tantrum,” he glanced down at your glass that you were still nursing from the hang out session. Taken aback at your freshly done nails. “Wow, you’ve got pretty hands baby. Wonder what they look like on my cock. Your new boyfriend pay for that manicure?” You scoff, once again, at the pettiness seeping from his pores. Enveloping you both in a tension that you could taste.It lingered in your lungs like smoke. You couldn’t help the crooked expression on your face. Dainty features screwed up at him in disgust and confusion, "is that what this is about? Jacob? There's nothing going on between us." You cross your arms in front of your chest, holding firm in your stance. It wasn't to keep your guard up, really. Your feet were planted in place to keep from running into his arms, like a billion times before.
“You do this all the time! You and your fucking ego think you own me. You’re so fucking annoying. It’s like-“ before you knew it, nick’s lips were on yours. A pathetic, needy whimper crept up your throat, but you couldn’t force it down. He couldn’t help himself, honestly. You looked sinfully delicious in your nightgown. He places his hand around your neck. Not coming to a full grip, but just resting it there. His other hand, rubbing the fabric of the gown between his index finger and thumb. He lead you backwards onto your soft bed. 
It can't be unlearned
I've known the warmth of your doorways
Through the cold,
I'll find my way back to you
“Just wanna make you feel good, Angel,” there is something ominous about the way that pet name drips from his tongue. A benevolence as he hungrily eyes you. Large, calloused hands pressed into your thighs. Slowly feeling up your soft skin. You let out a whimper. A thin layer of sweat had built up, coating your brow as his weight dipped into the bed. Your thighs clenched together involuntarily once you felt like he was a bit too close to your clothed pussy. The bed never made a sound under him as he leaned closer. This time, placing a chaste kiss onto your lips. Those pretty, shiny lips that he wants to see all over him. Wants to see the lipstick print all over his chest and stomach. 
“Please,” you stuttered under your breath. His face, mere inches from yours. No point in being nervous now. Those same hands that had made you come undone many a time before were doing what they do best. Gripping and pulling on your lace panties. Effectively pulling them past your thighs and stashing them away in his varsity jacket. You choke out a satisfied purr at at the silky soft sensation of your plush pillows under your head. 
His nimble fingers expertly found your aching and neglected clit. He hums, satisfied with how slick your folds were for him. Your delectable scent practically spelling out your perverse thoughts to him.
I warn you, baby, each night,
as sure as you're born
You'll hear me howling outside your door
"Wanna say that again, baby?” He heard you quite loud and clear the first time, but this is a game for him. To see how well he can push you to your limit. He can see now that he wants to do any and everything in his power to make you beg for him. 
Your mouth was only slightly agape, but no words escape past your lips.The stretch was excruciatingly delightful. Coaxing a gasp from your lipstick smeared lips. You can feel the tense bundle of nerves in the pit of your stomach, unfurling like the tips of flames. And you know he feels it too by the broad smirk he gives you. Slowing down the pace of his fingers significantly. You shoot him an annoyed scowl, “w-why’d you slow down.” You whine in a plaintive voice, pouting at him. “Can’t let you get off that easily, bunny,” he murmurs in a husky tone. “Rude,” you moan softly. Leaning up, so that your breath fans his neck and ear. 
Lazily pumping his cock, he scanned your body. Both of your clothing discarded a little while ago. You groan at him in anticipation. Causing Nick to chuckle and shake his head at you, “patience. I know you can’t control yourself from being a slut, but I’m sure you can wait a moment, yes? You nod vigorously at him. His fat, mushroom tip leaking right above your soft mound. 
He sinks himself into you with a bit of struggle. It had been too long since he had been with you. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there. But whats the fun in that? You were a panting, whimpering mess. Nick is cruel with the pace he sets. With his cock buried to the hilt, he pushes your legs back so your thighs are up to your chest. Such a pretty sight for him. His hands were splayed across the fat of your thighs as he quickens his pace. A thought shoots across your mind. Everyone was still downstairs, “m-maybe we should be quieter.”
 “Did i ask you your opinion, bunny? No I didn’t.”
His eyes darkened as he watches you shake under him. “Now, you may speak. Y’ever let anyone fuck you like this before?” You can’t even give him a proper answer. Only whimpers and pants coming from his pretty girl. His fingers interlock with yours. He puts them over your head, his strokes becoming more meticulous. Slow and calculated, but still just as strong. You feel a shudder travel up your spine and involuntarily roll your hips against his. Causing him to groan under his breath. He places a teasing kiss along your neck.
“Have I fucked you dumb? Can’t talk to me baby? Let me hear your pretty voice,” he smirks down at you. His pace is relentless. No wonder you don’t have a single thought. He’s got your knees pulled up into your chest and in a mating press. He wants to get a deep as possible into you as he can. Successfully shaping your insides to fit only him.
“When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer," he shines a toothy grin at you, "But not too loud, right? Don’t want him to hear his little angel getting railed like this right? Don’t want him to know that you’re my personal pocket pussy."
You responded, your mouth dry and hoarse. The answer coming out louder that he had expected. Let him hear how much you needed and missed him. He lands a harsh smack on your ass. Causing you to wail again in shameless pleasure. “Like that, baby? You like when i’m rough with you? Jacob not treating you right?”
“J-Just friends.”
“J-Just friends,” he repeats at you in a mocking tone, “-again, unwanted opinion. But you can’t tell me who fucks you this good? We both know you don’t wanna be treated like a fragile princess.” His voice is husky in your ear as he reaches between the both of you, finding your aching clit. You let out another wanton moan as he rubs in small circles, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm.  His thrusts become more sporadic every passing second. His blown out pupils watching as your breasts jiggled and bounced. Acting on first instinct, he takes your nipple into his mouth. You cry out, throwing your head back sharply, squeezing his length as you soak his cock. He groans and follows soon behind at the added tightness of your orgasm. Hot ropes of cum painting your velvet insides. Covering ever crevice in his essence. His thrusts become lazier and lazier until he softens. Leaning down to kiss you again.
 “What do you say?”
“Thank you.”
He rolls over onto his side, pulling you close against him, “atta girl. I also know that you’re just friends. I was just-” his train of thought leaves him as he searches for a correct word.
“Jealous-” you complete the sentence for him. Ultimately completing him as a whole. He chuckles at your response, “yeah, jealous.” If he’s gonna fuck you like this, maybe you should break up more often. After all, he’ll always come back.
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genderstarbucks · 5 months
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hi! could you make a translunar cis man flag? btw i love your flags!
Translunar Cis Man + Transtidal Cis Woman!!
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Translunar Cis Man is a term for cis men who also consider themselves translunar
Transtidal Cis Woman is a term for cis women who also consider themselves transtidal
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loopyrpgifs · 2 years
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MAGGIE LINDEMANN | break it! Music Video (2022) | x
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conformant-archive · 1 year
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Cismasculine Cis Man Flag | Cisfeminine Cis Woman Flag
[1st flag design: seven horizontal stripes colored with four shades of blue, cyan, darker cyan, and royal blue.]
[2nd flag design: seven horizontal stripes colored with four shades of light pink and three shades of hot pink. End IDs.]
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candiceswanp · 2 years
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BARBARA PALVIN | Vogue Italia (2021) | x
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ailelie · 1 year
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on gender
I tried to write this a couple years ago and ended up deleting it all about two minutes after posting. So let's try again.
This is going to be a terrible analogy. One way for me to think about gender and my feelings toward it is to think of assigned gender like being given a specific toy at birth. And, let's be super traditional/sexist here, and give girls dolls and boys trucks.
When I was born, I was given a doll. I love my doll and refuse to give it up. If you caught the bit of anxiety in that last statement, congratulations. Part of me has often feared that someone would take the doll away because I didn't play with it correctly.
Maybe five years ago, I was walking down the street. No one else was around except for myself and a guy on his phone walking the opposite way past me. As we passed each other, I heard him say something like 'the guys are out today' and then spent the next block re-assessing how I had dressed and reassuring myself it was feminine. Once I realized what I was doing, I stopped and pointed out to myself that the phone conversation had nothing to do with me.
Long before that, when I was a little girl, I hated my voice. I felt it was too deep for a girl. I would practice talking in a higher pitch. My voice is not low; I was just anxious.
I have debated posting anything about this for fear that someone might say, "Gotcha!" and take my doll away. I have zero desire to play with trucks.
Even in college when I privately flirted with the idea of a masculine nickname, what appealed to me the most was the potential of seeing people react when the name and face did not match as they'd expected. I flirted with the idea of a masculine nickname, not to make some claim on masculinity, but rather to highlight my femininity. But I worried that wouldn't come across and I've never really understood how to make a nickname take, so I dropped that idea entirely.
And this does intersect with sexuality, because I am from a conservative family, so the traditional idea is for women and men to marry and have children. I do not want to give birth. I'm not heterosexual. And part of the stress of figuring out my sexuality was also that voice in the back of my head going "you're not being a girl correctly! they're gonna take that away from you!"
What has helped the most has been having trans friends and developing a more robust understanding of gender overall. That makes it a lot easier to dismantle and destroy the idea that there is a "right" way to be a woman. Every woman has her own way. Universal standards don't exist.
And it also made me realize that I would always be a woman. If I woke up tomorrow morning with a penis, I would still be a woman. If I had been born with a penis, I would still be a woman. That is both who I am and who I choose to be. I'm just lucky my parts and appearance match general expectations.
So I don't really get gender as euphoria or feeling and I disagree that it means matching a standard. For me, control freak that I am, gender, like love, is a choice.
I am who I choose to be and no one is taking that doll from me.
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faceclaimscape · 6 months
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Stana Katic
Cis Female | 1970s | Brown hair | Hazel eyes | Caucasian | Actor
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lazycranberrydoodles · 4 months
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omg. jiejie
bonus sketches wahoo!! i am very much the ‘genderswap means they look the same but with boobs’ type of artist
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uncanny-tranny · 5 months
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Men, it's fucking normal to have stretch marks and even cellulite. It's normal to not have a flat stomach, to have body acne (especially because of hormones/puberty), to have unbalanced hair distribution along all parts of your body. It's normal to have deep hair lines, to have thin hair, for hair to regrow odd.
Very, very few of us will live in this world unscathed. You owe nobody the conformity of man. So many problems that are seen as "womens-only" occur in men, too, because it is a part of the human condition to have weird bodies.
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sanlangsaturday · 4 months
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bingjie...
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marzipanandminutiae · 8 months
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redditreceipts · 7 months
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"there is no way to define "woman" without leaving out some cis women" so how do you define "cis woman" then? if you're so sure about who is and who isn't a cis woman, your definition of "cis woman" is my definition of "woman" :)
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loopyrpgifs · 2 years
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BARBARA PALVIN | Vogue Italia (2021) | x
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buried-in-stardust · 16 days
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Cosplay of the women of TGCF
[eng by me]
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candiceswanp · 2 years
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BARBARA PALVIN | Vogue Italia (2021) | x
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