Bates Motel: Emma Decody Shares A Moment of Passion

Bloody Night

A/N: Please feel free to comment so I know what to improve and if you guys want a second chapter. Enjoy the satirical smut! ;)

"Is this okay?" You ponder, as you watch Emma Decody pull her muted-jewel blue jumper over her head. You pause for a moment, admiring her striking beauty as she sits cross-legged in her undergarments. Phrases from your Year 10 Sex-Ed talk come flooding back to you. Consent is key. Consent is key.

Not for one second does she divert her sunken, inquisitive brown eyes from yours. As you recline into the fresh linen sheets, Emma follows, maintaining a passionate eye contact.  She presses her soft, rose lips to your ear, and the cold plastic of her nasal cannula sends goosebumps down your arms.

"Don't worry, [y/n]. Dad is out selling his taxidermy. We've got the whole bloody night." Her use of British profanity makes you chuckle. Mr. Decody's Manchester spirit must've rubbed off on her. Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's Manchester.

She beams widely, and the overwhelming cuteness of her prominent dimples makes you do the same. Looking down, she curls a lock of luscious auburn behind her ear and sighs deeply, the air expelling from her fragile CF lungs. "I mean, is this okay with you?" you mutter, exploring her irresistible features for an answer. As you sink into the rippling mattress, you also find yourself sinking into the dark abyss of her liquid irises, lost, as if searching for an endangered species of octopus. She leans in, brushing her tender lips against yours as you slide your hands up her silky satin of her smiling face. "Yeah," she breathes. "Yeah, [y/n]. I love you."

As Emma's breathing deepens, she gently grazes her tongue against yours, feeling the hypnotic rhythm of your interlocking lips as if one entity. "Take me. Take me now," she whispers passionately into your left ear, her mellow American accent resonating in your external auditory canal. You jolt upwards to sit on her hips, a sudden rush of adrenaline flooding through the veins of your humanorum corpum.

Determined, you fumble for the bra fastener, now on a scavenger hunt for two gold nuggets. As if applying my sunscreen, you rub both hands together and slap them on her chest and she sighs. Oh yeah, second base! Just as it's getting good, the doorbell rings. "Emma, I'm home!" It's her dad.

"Shit."

Panicking, Emma rips off the sheets as she delves into the draw for a shirt, her hands shaking. Your moment of bliss shatters before your very eyes. Screw you, Mr. Decody. Screw you.