Emma Walker Bed Novels & Stories

Aesthetic’s POV: “ Don’t come closer! “ I exclaimed when he began to stepped his foot towards me. His dark eyes slowly turned into a red blooded one that made me tremble with fear. As he walked towards my direction, his addictive scent fill my nostrils that sends me an incredible cravings. The noises that I made created echos from nowhere, as if the room was thick and hidden. Compared to some rooms in the castle, I might say that this was the most simple one. With no luxurious things, only the golden chandeliers above. The walls are painted grey but the door was white. Only a huge bed can be seen, and that’s where I am at the moment. Hoping that Ace won’t hurt me, I covered myself with a bl

Lucy admitted. "Not for me," Willow replied tossing her supposed trophy away, the skull attached spine. "Now you know why am called the 'Spine ripper'," she said walking away. They stared at each other and followed along shortly after. EMMA'S RESIDENCE, MIDNIGHT: Emma had just returned from peeing in the bathroom, and going back to sleep she hesitated, couldn't help the feeling like she was being watched. So she filled her palm with a bright, white light ball.

Maybe she could distract him enough to get him to come back to bed. The floor was cool under her bare feet as she padded through the dark house. A light under a door she had never been in showed her the place where Jake was holed up. She took a breath and tapped lightly before opening the door. Jake sat at the desk and turned away from the clean surface as he looked out the dark window with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Emma crossed the space, took the glass from his hand, and slid into his lap. She took a sip of the amber liquid before handing it back to him.

Emma went upstairs to Jake's room and opened the door slowly and saw that the room was empty! She entered the room looking around! She kept her backpack on the bed. "Where is he? If he had a fever, he should be laying on the bed right now!" Emma said thinking and turning around to get out of the room but she bumped into a naked chest! She was staring at the drool-worthy chest, ignoring the fact to know who it belonged to! A warm hand touched her bare waist and she got startled as it tickled her!

IN MY STEPBROTHER'S BED EMMA & ALEX Emma stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror of her new bedroom, adjusting the hem of her oversized t-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs. At 18, she was still getting used to her body curves that had blossomed over the summer, full breasts that strained against the thin cotton, and hips that swayed with a natural rhythm she couldn't quite control. Her long, wavy auburn hair cascaded down her back, and her green eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

His mind was full. Of Emma. Of her face as she walked alone in the rain. Of her flushed cheek as he treated it earlier. Of the emptiness in her eyes. Suddenly— A soft sound came from the bedroom. A whimper. Alex immediately sat up. He hesitated for a few seconds, then stood and walked to Emma’s room. He knocked gently. No answer. The whimper came again. Alex opened the door. Emma was shivering on the bed. Her face was flushed. Her breathing uneven.

Emma’s bedroom was a shrine to teenage aestheticism. Fairy lights were draped over the headboard, Polaroids were clipped to strings on the wall, and the floor was an obstacle course of discarded clothes and textbooks. But tonight, the room felt small. Stifling. Emma lay on her bed, face buried in a pillow that was damp with tears. She was sixteen now, no longer the toddler who built towers or the child who organized book drives. She was a young woman navigating the brutal, high-stakes world of high school romance.

Emma clasped her hands together and stared at the both of us with a smile on her lips, "we have a few catching up to do." Amanda who was roaming inside the room turned to face Emma. She was probably wondering how she kept everything well-organized and clean. Emma's room contained mostly of neutral colors. The walls were plastered in white, and the beige-colored, carpeted floor had no stains nor any signs of imperfection. Her bed was always made up; the white pillows were arranged on the bed's headboard properly, and the blanket that was cloaking the mattress didn't even have some ruffles to it. The books stacked on her shelves were arranged from smallest to largest, same with the picture fra

The force of gravity in the room seemed to suddenly increase, threatening to drag her to the floor. Get over it. You knew damn well this was going to happen. Just . . . move on. She looked over her shoulder to finally take in the rest of the space. Her father’s bed lay inside one of the corners, the mattress a size too small for a man of his height and covered with the same camo blanket that rested on her own. A large bookcase lined one wall, its contents a hodgepodge of classic and paranoid—“Survivalist,” Emma corrected herself—literature. She scanned the titles. Finding Tom Sawyer and The Anarchist’s Cookbook resting beside each other conjured demented scenes of the scamp lobbing improvise

Took it. Emma led her down the hallway. The bedroom welcomed them with dim golden light from a single bedside candle and the faint scent of lavender on the sheets. Emma turned slowly, her fingers tracing the line of Alex's jaw before sliding down to the buttons of her blouse. One by one, she undid them, revealing smooth skin beneath. Alex mirrored the motion, easing Emma's top away until both stood in simple lace bras and soft pants.