Morning Angel - Emily Prentiss
As promised and voted for the most here is the Emily Prentiss smut, listen I haven't written smut in a while so its only short and probably really crap, but you guys wanted it so here it is!
This will also be uploaded on my wattpad & Ao3 (Watppad is KissingPrentiss & Ao3 is Jemilysgirl)
Cw: cnc (ish)
The light of the sun crept through the small gap in the curtains. You stirred awake to find your girlfriend still sleeping peacefully, an arm wrapped around your waist. Smiling at her, the older brunette looked so cute when she was asleep. It was rare that you woke up before Emily.
Then you recalled last nights events, realising you were both very naked. Smirking to yourself, you had an idea that you've always wanted to try but never got the opportunity to do, because Emily was usually awake before you. Biting your lip at the idea, you carefully removed her arm from around your waist, hoping that she doesn't wake up from the slight movement.
All your girlfriend did was stir slightly in her sleep. You wasted no time in going under the duvet, your face between her thighs, hands gently wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place as you kissed along her thighs lightly, teasing her. You chuckled quietly at the fact she was already wet just from that.
You felt Emily stir again, somewhere between breathes she let out a whimper, as you licked up her slit teasing her, collecting her juices that already started drippling from her pussy.
Your girlfriend let out another whimper, along with a low moan. You removed the duvet slightly from hers and your body just enough to look up with your eyes, Emily's eyes still closed, but one of her hands started gripping the bedsheets.
Flattening your tongue against her clit then alternating between sucking and licking. You devoured her. And that's when Emily let out the loudest moan. Stirring awake even more.
"Fuck!" She moaned, your eyes met her brown eyes when she finally woke up. You felt more wetness come from Emily's pussy on your tongue, gushing into your mouth or onto your chin. Her hand fell into your h/c gripping it, holding you in place as you continued to devour her cunt.
"Oh!" She yelled out, in absolute pleasure, her head falling back into the pillows as she tried to slightly sit up, which failed.
You knew your girlfriend was close, the way her chest rises, heavy breathes. You sucked on her clit a few more times.
"Y/n!" Emily moans.
You continued, as you hear Emily's pretty sounds that she makes. God, she was so hot.
Emily practically yells between moans. As she came in your mouth, you gently licked her clit through her orgasm to make it last a bit longer, cleaning the mess you made up. The moment she pulled your head away and let out a small whimper, she was telling you she's too sensitive. You chuckled, wiping your chin that glistened with Emily's cum, with your arm. As you sat back up, Emily pulled you down, on top of her.
"Morning to you too, angel. That was by far my favourite way to wake up" Emily breathed out, still recovering from the previous orgasm. You smirked at her.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, I did too" you added. Emily smirks at you then pulls you down for a kiss, tasting herself on your lips and tongue. You moaned into the kiss when she bit your bottom lip slightly. Her tongue against yours.
"I think someone deserves a reward" Emily says as she pulls away, falling into the usual roles of her being the dominant one. She was usually the top but because you're both she liked giving you control sometimes.
"We have plenty of time for that Em, I just wanted to make you feel good. We haven't been called into work. There's a shower and breakfast calling our names. Although I quite like the breakfast I've just had" you smirked.
Emily chuckled "next time I'm waking you up like that. And who says I'll be keeping my hands off you in the shower?" She adds.
"Then by all means, let's go" you added, getting off of your girlfriend and going into the bathroom, Emily shortly following behind. As the shower run and the two of you got into it. Emily's lips were already on your neck.
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I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"
Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.
In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.
In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.
In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?
In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.
The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.
And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?
And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?
Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.
The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.
The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.
They always come home eventually.
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a trans woman gets wrongfully deleted, falsely accused of making threats and is harassed by automattic's ceo, after years of trans women talking about how they are constantly having to deal with things like this, and days later, someone pedojackets another trans woman because they failed to read her website rules in their entirety, and less that a month after that, someone pedojackets yet another trans woman because of a months-old comment replying to a stranger, which she has already addressed repeatedly. not a fucking thing has been learned.
respect trans women. support trans women. actually treat them like human beings deserving of compassion and reflect on how public accusations of wrongdoings do not accomplish anything good, and are especially harmful to trans women, whether they're true or not (and most of the time, they're not true). and yes, love trans women too, but that goal cannot be reached without everything else.
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