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exosmutfactory · 3 years

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Six Phases 006 Pt 1

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: Hello!~ Long time no see. Are you ready for what comes next? 🤭😇

This chapter update is 20.5k so far... and it’s only the 1st “section” of Chapter 6 so you can imagine how this is gonna go (<.<) oops

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut (in part 2) ]

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⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010

(I was unable to tag one of you guys, sorry love💗)

If you’d like to be added next time, please check out this blog post. Thank you ^^ 🌹

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A/N: I will be making the story layout more pretty ^^ Hope you like it! Let’s go!~

Track 01

It's funny how the most important people in your life can enter your world at any given moment. So suddenly—so unexpectedly that you can't imagine your new acquaintance becoming one of your best friends, a flirty friend of friends looking out for you, or even winning a playboy millionaire's heart.

Sometimes these people come out of the blue, and you may not see it then, but they will become pillars to help you hold yourself up; practical family members that you can go to in times of uncertainty—and you will thank your lucky stars every night for not being dumb enough to push these pillars of strength away. Especially if one of them holds the key to your heart…

As dumb as he can be with some things.

And there's just something about observing a silver-haired man walking through a world of white. Snowflakes clinging to the top of his head and his brown winter coat as he struggles with a large box in his hands.

• • •

The adorable pout on his lips makes a giggle escape mine. I watch him from afar with a fond smile, cupping my hands around my mouth. "Baekhyun!"

My loud call seems to startle him. I burst into laughter as he stumbles over his feet again. "Here, here." Chuckling, I quickly run across the parking lot to assist him. Thankfully without slipping on a patch of black ice along the way. "Let me help you."

"Please do." His warm brown eyes meet mine under the dim street lights, a pout still on his lips. "You sure we'll be alone tonight? This box is quite heavy."

I shoot him a small, secretive smile, neatly tucking my hands under the box along with his, my mitten-covered fingertips brushing against his leather gloves. "Yes babe, it's just you and me~"

Baekhyun hums, unconvinced, as we walk the box to his car, carefully setting it on the floor in the backseat. I catch a whiff of his heart-fluttering, cinnamon-scented cologne before he walks around to the driver's side. "Ready to tell me what's in it?" He raises a brow, resting his folded arms on the top of the snow-covered Audi, a smile playing at his lips.

"I'll think about it~" I chirp, slipping into the passenger seat as he climbs in with a chuckle, hovering my palms over the vent when he starts the car and cranks up the heat. "It's a surprise though."

He hums, carefully backing out of the empty parking lot.

"Oh!" Turning to him with my best puppy eyes, I softly ask, "Can we stop by the convenience store?"

"If you tighten your seatbelt," He advises, taking a quick glance at me and a moment to adjust his own before turning onto the road.

I lean back in the comfortable leather seat, humming along to a familiar song on the radio as he taps his fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. A smile forming on my lips while admiring his side profile against the snowy backdrop of the fogged-up driver's window.

He glances over with a smile of his own, "What?"

I can't help but giggle. "Nothing." Cheekily resting my chin on my palm and balancing my elbow on the handle of the door, I muse, "Just admiring my handsome boyfriend."

Even with only the glow from the radio and the occasional streetlight, I can spot the telling red color on his cheeks. "Shh, you're distracting me." He insists in a flustered murmur, steering the wheel.

Chuckling softly, I turn to face the window, sneaking a peek at him every now and then.

• • •

After I flashed the cashier my ID and purchased what I desired at the store, I held the bottle in my lap for the rest of the ride home, carrying it up as Baekhyun assured me he could manage walking the box on his own to the elevator. Of course, I held open the door for him to make both our lives—and my subconscious—easier, and I unlocked the one to our shared apartment.

He had asked me to move in with him the night of our one year anniversary. The question came so out of the blue, I nearly sprayed champagne all over his nervous features across our chandelier-lit table at an upscale Italian restaurant. I mean… I love surprises—and him as well—but damn man, not even a subtle warning!? And why the hell does he want to live with me anyway?

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," He murmurs, cheeks rosy. From his confession or the champagne, no one knows. My face doesn't feel like it's doing any better either. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to-"

—Okay, okay. Baekhyun is a hopeless romantic who I'm forever trying my best not to melt into a lovestruck puddle on the floor because of his heart quaking words. And what he wants is what he gets. Most of my clothes are stored in our closet, my purple toothbrush next to his golden one, and my 'emergency' duffle bag is stuffed in the farthest corner of the large space.

Now that I'm officially considered, "Baekhyun's woman," Among his group of friends, I have plenty of options for places to crash for a few nights if the need arises. I'm still getting used to his face being the first thing I see in the morning and sometimes I need a little breather, especially when I sense an argument on the rise. It's all fun and games until we're both running low on sleep and high on adrenaline. A girl's always got to have a plan B.

Even Jongdae offered me his guest bedroom for shelter—and sleepovers!—since Jenny moved in with him after graduating earlier in the year. Must be nice, I got a few classes to finish up while diligently editing the current novel that Park's Publishing is working towards welcoming to the public. It's a lengthy fantasy read full of cheesy romance and battling monsters I can't even think to name—typical shit, a few twists and turns along the way, you get the gist.

Baekhyun carefully sets the box down in the living room while I remove my white coat and snow-covered shoes, quickly skipping into the kitchen with the bottle in hand. "Still trying to figure it out?" I call over my shoulder, moving to get ice from the freezer.

"They're definitely canned," He murmurs, padding into the room on sock-clad feet; his arms wrapping around my waist and chin resting on my shoulder as I work on the countertop. "Did you order exotic food again?"

I shake the bottle in my hand, "What goes good with vodka?" Looking over my shoulder, I find his eyes shifting back and forth between the drink in my hand, and the two iced filled glasses on the counter. His brown eyes light up in realization. "Cheerwine?" He chuckles at my excited nod, "You were serious, weren't you?"

"I miss my homeland soda, okay!" I huff, grinning at his endearing laugh before batting my eyes up at him, "Mind opening the box, babe?~" My eyes flutter closed as he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead.

"Of course," He murmurs, soft lips curled in a smile.

As he goes to unpack the drinks, I put my focus back on the ones in front of me, carefully pouring roughly an ounce of vodka in each glass. There is no desire to party too hard tonight when both of us have work in the morning.

"Are you ready, babe?" I tilt my head towards him, holding a glass in each hand. At the confirmation of him indeed prying open the box, I bring the drinks into the living room, neatly setting them down next to the two red cans on the coffee table. "Ready to relax?" I utter playfully to his lean body stretched comfortably across the entirety of our black & white striped couch. His black button-down shirt and matching snug jeans straining deliciously over his thick thighs and firm chest.

Baekhyun nods with a soft hum, and I won't even deny the way my heartbeat skips when he sits up, welcoming me into his open arms with sparkly brown orbs. "Come here."

Accepting the invitation—what am I gonna do? Say no? No way in hell—I carefully nestle myself in his lap, snuggling into his firm chest as my cheeks warm. They burn even more as my eyes catch his fond-filled ones. "Uh-uh." I gulp, squeaking, "Drinks?" Carefully pulling the tab on the first can he hands me before leaning forward to pour an even amount of soda in each glass. Relishing in the familiarity that washes over me in wake of the soft fizz.

Baekhyun hums, a soft smile playing at his lips. He hands me a glass and collects the other for himself. The feeling of his racing heart on my back has me hiding a smile of my own in the fabric of my pastel green turtleneck. I watch his reaction as he takes a tentative sip; his jaw moving while he seems to savor the taste before taking another, briefly meeting my eye.

I blink expectantly, "Well?"

Baekhyun chuckles, planting a heart-fluttering kiss on my nose. "It has a nice cherry flavor. I like it."

I hum, arching a brow, not quite satisfied. "Better than Cola?"

He laughs, nodding as I sip on my own. "Yes, baby," He murmurs, soft lips brushing over my forehead while pulling me closer, "definitely better."

With a nod, I let the conversation lull into a calm silence, nothing but the tinkering of shifting ice and the reassuring beat of Baekhyun's heart interrupting the blissful atmosphere. Nights like these are my favorite: staying in and curling up to each other for warmth. Away from the loud bustle of our daily lives.

Thankfully with my hard work ethic, (read numerous sleepless nights,) the higher-ups have allowed me to work from home as long as I come in for important meetings and I am present three days a week. I rarely miss more than a day every few weeks though; I have no issues working in my designated office there. However, having the option to pack up my laptop and go spend lunch with Baekhyun in his company a few blocks over is always a treat. And the cutest expression of surprise that forms on his features... I'm never taking it for granted.

I stir a little at a soft pressure on the top of my head, blinking a few times before looking up at an equally sleepy Baekhyun. Giggles soon escape us both. "Cheerwine is a sleeping drink, hmm?" He smiles, eyes twinkling.

"It's really relaxing okay," I smile as more laughter rumbles in his chest, melting further into him as his hand rubs soothingly over my back. "I had a lot through high school."

"Helped to prepare for finals?" He inquires, gently combing warm slender fingers through my hair, melted ice swirling around the bottom of his glass.

I nod, briefly closing my eyes with a hum. "That and facing idiots every day. I almost didn't want to go to college, man."

A gentle smile lights up his face, "But you did." The sparkle in his eyes as he gazes down at me warms me up from the inside out. "And then you met me."

"—The persistent idiot from a frat party."

"Yah!" He complains as I erupt into another giggle fit, squealing when he starts leaving ticklish kisses all over my neck.

"Hey, I'm drinking here!"

Baekhyun chuckles, stopping his playful attacks; his small smile pressed to my neck.

"What?" I mutter breathlessly, savoring the remainder of my drink while regaining my breath. Trying not to waver despite the heat rising in my cheeks under the warmth of his stare. His comforting grip on my waist isn't easily ignored either.

"Nothing," He murmurs, looking me over for a moment. Adoration shining clear in his bright orbs as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, uttering softly, "Want to take a bath with me?"

"H—Huh?" I squeak, wide-eyed, hiding behind my hand. My face damn near bursting into flames. "Why?"

Baekhyun laughs softly, briefly squeezing my waist. "I don't know, I just…" He falters, fingers fidgeting, an all-telling red hue filling his cute cheeks. "Just thought it'd be nice."

"Nice, huh?" I mumble over the rim of my glass, licking a few stray drops before they can fall while arching a brow; my lips curling at the tint of red crawling up his ears.

"Y-Yeah, I mean," He stutters, focused on my cherry lips.

"I think you just want to see me naked," I tease, leaning forward to set my glass on the wooden table behind his blushing form sitting against the armrest of the couch.

"No-" Baekhyun's breath hitches, tilting his head back at my cold lips softly exploring the warm skin of his gorgeous neck. "M-Maybe…"

"Mmhm." Gently nibbling where his neck meets his jaw and putting his half-full glass away as well, I murmur, "That can be arranged."

Baekhyun sits there for a long moment, blinking owlishly at me before he straightens up. He swoops his arms under my knees and behind my back, standing up without a word, his biceps flexing at the motion. Soft eager lips press to my squealing ones as he walks down the hall to our bedroom.

I wrap my arms around his neck with a shy smile, smirking inwardly at the rapid beat of his heart under my palm resting against his neck.

"Give me a sec," He mumbles, entering the master bathroom. He sets me down on the spacious counter and opens a nearby drawer. "Can you open the cabinet for me?"

"You're gonna light a candle?" I blink, eyes widening at the box of matches in his hand.

"Not a candle," He braces his free hand on the countertop, capturing my lips in an unhurried kiss that makes me gasp. "Many candles."

"How romantic," I chuckle, breathy as he pulls away.

"Everything for you," His lips curl into that adorable, boyish smile; his hand patiently waiting. I retrieve the container of cream-colored candles from beyond the mirrored door behind me, carefully closing it before turning back to him, watching as he lights the match. The flickering flame reflects beautifully in his brown eyes while he holds it to the first candle, the scent of vanilla filling the room. A knowing smile forms on his lips at my unwavering stare.

I clear my throat, gripping the edge of the counter, "I'll go start the water-"

Baekhyun wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back to him with a shake of his head. "No, I'll do it."

"But-"

"Baby," He has that pleading look in his eyes, lowering the lit match held between his fingertips. "Let me pamper you."

"You're gonna make me spoiled," I grumble, eyes fluttering shut at the soft brush of his lips over my cheek.

"You're my girl," He murmurs, chuckling, softly squeezing my waist. "Of course I'm going to spoil you."

My chest nearly bursts under the weight of my surging affection. "Well then..." I begin, calm despite my racing heart, sliding my hands down to unbutton his shirt and tug at the belt on his jeans. I pull up his tucked-in t-shirt, aimlessly searching for his lips. "Do it properly."

My eyes flicker open just in time to catch his adam's apple bobbing, his little nod causes my lips to curl up. He hands me the lit match before shrugging off his shirt; his black t-shirt not too far behind. I lick my lips, trailing my gaze over his honey-toned torso. Smiling before pressing my mouth back to his soft pillows, mindful of the flame between my fingers while wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "My favorite view."

Baekhyun's bashful smile presses more firmly to mine, strong arms holding me flush to his body. I don't know if the sudden heat in the room is coming from my thick clothes or the proximity of his firm chest.

Just as I start to feel overwhelmed by the warmth, he detaches our lips with a loud smooch, carefully taking the match from my hand. The passionate fire in his orbs burning brighter than the flame between his fingers is enough to make me scorching hot under the collar.

Baekhyun has that knowing little smirk forming on his face again, lighting a few more candles before blowing out the match. "I'll start the water."

I can only giggle, completely enamored with him. The twinkling sparkle in his eyes in response to my laugh makes my heartbeat skip even more. I duck my head to hide from his amused expression and adoring gaze.

He just chuckles, planting a fleeting kiss on my forehead before stepping towards the grand tub on the other side of the room. Grand because the damn thing has three white steps leading up to it and it's at least as big as our king-sized bed in the other room.

The soothing sound of running water fills the air, mixing with the sweet aroma of vanilla and the view of Baekhyun leaning over the tub. His back muscles flexing alluringly, black belt tugging perfectly on his hips.

I look away, covering my red face with a muffled giggle, tugging at the collar of my shirt. Just what has this man done to me?

"What?" He glances over his shoulder, an amused smile playing at his lips.

"Nothing." Hiding my smile is nearly impossible until it falls off my face entirely in wake of him running a wet hand through his silver hair. The soft strands pushed off his gorgeous forehead with those dancing brown eyes of his watching me. I'm not blushing, I swear it's the humidity in the room.

He steps back over to me with antagonizing slow strides, his hands resting comfortably on my waist. "May I?" He murmurs, sliding them down to take hold of the hem of my turtleneck. The warmth of them somehow manages to seep through the thick fabric of my shirt.

I can only gulp, nodding meekly as he smiles, pulling the soft material over my head. The way his eyes drift over my tank top makes my cheeks warm—even more so when he rids me of it without hesitation.

"I should consider underwear," He mutters distractedly, one hand swiping under the edge of my bra while the other slides warmly up my back.

"You wanna compete with them too?" I arch a brow, leaning into his touch.

"No," He shakes his head, wrapping his arm around my waist, lifting those brown eyes back up to meet mine. "I want to see you with my name."

I can't help but snort despite my racing heart, giving him a disbelieving look. "You'd make a whole clothing line just for me to wear?" My amused grin falters at his serious nod. "I wouldn't be the only one wearing them, Baekhyun."

He hums, leisurely peppering kisses to the exposed skin of my chest. Goosebumps rise under his gentle caress as he pulls off my bra, quietly muttering, "You're the only one that matters."

There's no hiding my quickening heartbeat with his lips pressed so firmly to my skin; his brief smile not helping the state of my flushing cheeks at all. Just as I part my lips, my breath hitches—words forgotten with his hands trying to slip under the waistband of my thick leggings. I tsk, lightly smacking them away. "Yours first, mister."

"Mmm." He smiles, his palms sliding down my thighs. He's got that look in his eyes again that tells of unspoken mischief. "I kinda like the sound of that-"

"Never in a million years, Byun."

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over my cheek. "Remember last time? When you just-"

"Baekhyun!" My hand clapping over his mouth does nothing to muffle his contagious laughter. I can only shake my head, reaching to unzip and pop the button of his jeans. He gets quiet as I push them down to his calves. "Don't give me that look," I mutter, running my hands over his back, already well aware of the barely concealed problem he has.

"Why?" He murmurs, seeming to be content with painting me in gentle pink hues with his soft lips.

"You're staring."

Baekhyun chuckles, lifting his head, meeting my eyes with his twinkling ones. "I love admiring art."

"Oh, so I'm an object now?" I arch a brow, leaning back on my palms braced against the countertop.

"No." He shakes his head, brown eyes still focused on mine, long strands of silver hair cascading down his forehead. "You're the source," He pauses, smiling almost shyly, "Of my love and affection."

I'm ignoring the urge to coo at his reddening ears, merely planting a kiss on his cheek before wiggling out of my pants and carefully sliding off the counter. I collect our scattered clothes from the floor, tossing them into the wash basket a few feet away, curiously venturing over to the tub. Funny how we haven't used it since I moved in with him months ago. Then again, dating a CEO or not, I still think it is a waste of water just to fill up half of this thing, let alone what kind of water bills come with turning on the internal jacuzzi mode that will set the water into motion. But tonight is a special occasion.

No need for fancy anything—well, excluding the expensive bathtub—just being by his side is one of the most rewarding feelings in the world.

The steam rising from the still water makes my face feel dewy and refreshed. Coaxing me to dip into its heated depths. I gather my hair up into a bun, reaching for my hair-tie only to find out that it isn't on either of my wrists.

"Ah—do you need one?" Baekhyun mumbles, pausing mid-stride, pink lips pouting as he ruffles his silver hair.

Smiling adoringly, I make my way back to him with a shake of my head, grabbing his wrist. "No, it's fine."

"But-"

"It's alright, Baekhyun." Noticing the uncertainty playing on his features, I giggle. "It's not going to melt off, you know?"

He still has a furrow between his brows.

Fighting my smile, I shrug after a few moments, scrunching my nose, "My hair just gets a bit puffy—but." Holding my hand up at the sight of his dancing orbs, I narrow my eyes, muttering, "If my head ends up underwater, we are going to have a problem."

"Alright," He nods, lips curled up in a sheepish smile. "I can work with that."

I smile softly, taking a deep breath as he steps closer; heart palpitating when his familiar scent hits my nose, mixing with the aroma of vanilla permeating the air. His wet hair flops over his forehead in the most endearing of ways, outlining the cute droop of his eyes and his brown irises lit with the flickering candle flames. I doubt I will ever find a more comforting place than the shelter of his strong arms, fully content with melting into the security of his honey-toned skin.

"The water's getting cold," I blurt, muffled in the safety of his shoulder.

Baekhyun laughs, briefly dipping his hand into the water. We strip off the rest of our clothes and slip into its pleasantly warm depths.

'Wow,' I mouth, settling against the far side of the tub, relaxing under the water comfortably lapping at my shoulders.

"Nice, hmm?"

"Nice!?" My eyes drift to him as he moves closer. "Dude, I could spend an entire lifetime here if I wouldn't shrivel up like a prune."

I catch a glimpse of his sugar-sweet smile before he moves to sit behind me, pulling me close until my back is resting on his chest. Relaxing completely against him, all tension seems to leave my body, only a sense of warmth and security fills my being.

This kind of closeness—this intimacy—is something I'm definitely up for getting used to. The steady beating of his heart, the soft puffs of his every breath... It makes me inwardly scold myself for not doing this with him sooner. But when I stop to think about it…

I shoot down the thought quickly, fighting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut. The past is in the past. It shouldn't define the present, nor should I think about it. No matter how painful it is, I rather focus on Baekhyun's fingers gently playing with the ends of my hair instead of getting lost in the reminders of why my chest aches from time to time. The unanswered questions and concerns that easily plague my mind if I'm not careful enough.

I'm brought back to the calming waters of the tub by the feeling of Baekhyun's hand sliding down my stomach. "What are you doing?" I grumble, peeking an eye open.

"Appreciating," He murmurs with a small smile, wet strands of his hair tickling my ear as he plants a kiss on my shoulder. "I want to wash your hair. May I?"

Both my eyes flutter open with a quiet hum, a lazy smile forming on my lips. "Only if I can too," I propose, peeking over my shoulder at him. The view of his slender neck bared while his head rests against the back of the tub with water lapping at his chest is damn near intoxicating. Like what the hell, I swear this man grows finer by the day—or maybe I'm just a sucker for him... At this point, it's probably a mixer of both. Possibilities are endless when it comes to being in love—especially the cringe-worthy ones.

Baekhyun hums, brown eyes shimmering brightly as I turn around to face him, resting my palms on his lean abdomen for stability. "I'd love that," He murmurs, arms wrapping around my waist.

I shoot him another sweet smile, reaching to grab his shampoo bottle left on the edge of the tub. An all-too-familiar citrus scent wafts into the air when I open it. Squeezing a bit in my palm, I rub my hands together. "Close your eyes—just in case," I mumble sheepishly. I'm not about to risk him getting soap in his eyes tonight. Between his luck and my clumsiness, we must take all precautions.

Baekhyun chuckles, his eyes fluttering shut as I carefully run my hands through his hair, shifting into a comfortable position on his lap. He rubs soothing circles on my back, making me smile shyly, treating his soft strands with care.

"Your roots are showing," I note, gently ruffling his silver locks.

"I know." He tsks, cracking an eye open. "I'll get it done in a few days. When inventory calms down."

Humming, I swipe away shampoo drifting down his forehead, looking into his eyes sternly. "Enough of that. Less talking, more washing."

Soft laughter rumbles in his chest. "Yes ma'am," He mumbles, brown orbs shining in amusement, shutting his eyes again.

I massage the shampoo into his scalp, thoroughly covering the hair at the nape of his neck, pausing at the soft peck he presses to my lips. My cheeks burst into flames, "Lay back for me?"

"Oh?" He peeks, soapy suds sliding down his jaw. "This isn't what I was expecting, but I'm not complaining," He murmurs, smirking.

"Baekhyun!"

He's full-on laughing, causing the water to ripple around us. I shake my head, smiling a little, shielding his forehead and scooping up water to rinse his hair.

"Almost done," I mumble distractedly, my gaze drifting over his handsome features in the meantime. There's nothing like seeing a peaceful expression form on his face, or being the one to help him relax after a tiring day. Witnessing the way his stern eyes soften into the purest brown pools of love makes me feel like a criminal. "There."

"Thank you, baby." He hums, eyelashes brushing his cute cheeks before his sparkly brown orbs focus on me. He leans up for a sweet kiss that washes my every worry away, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form on my skin. "Your turn."

I don't even try hiding my smile, relaxing at the rare feeling of his hands carding through my hair. Something about the gentle way he does it makes me giggle, giddiness bubbling in my chest.

"What's so funny, hmm?" He murmurs, biting my ear.

"Baek!" I squeal, nearly opening my eyes as he chuckles, pressing a ticklish smooch to my neck.

Stealing a peek at him, I could melt at the adorable concentrated look on his face. Moments like these remind me how much I love this man. His every habit and cute mannerisms. Even on days when we've had enough of each other, where we teeter close to the edge of a breakup, I rather try a thousand times with him than start over with someone else. Stubborn personality and all, no pride of mine outweighs my never-ending love for him.

Nothing compares to how much I would do for him. Rain, sleet, or snow, I'll be there—and knowing he'd do the same, that he feels the same—is the greatest feeling imaginable.

"Baekhyun?"

"Hmm?" He lifts his head from the edge of the tub, holding me close to his beating heart, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The warmth of his gaze and the familiarity of his palm cupping my cheek send my adoration to new heights.

Taking my time to gaze over his features, I map every soft slope, every stunning curve, every unique freckle of his skin to memory. The little imperfections that make him even more perfect to me, reminders of why I haven't given up completely on humanity. I could spend forever with you. "I love you."

His beaming smile is the most heart-fluttering gesture in the world. "I love you too."

The sizzling of meat and the mouth-watering aroma of seasoned beef fills the air, popping to the tempo of my anxious heart. I blow away annoying strands of hair dangling in my eyes, painstakingly swirling the steadily cooking, thinly sliced marinated strips around the pan. Monitoring the rice cooker on the other side of the stove while being mindful of the glass plates neatly set out on the counter. I'm grateful that this recipe is as simple as the online articles have stated, who knows what kind of disastrous mess the kitchen would be in by now if it were any more difficult on this Friday night. 8 straight hours of back and forth with a picky, opinionated novelist has left me ravenous, I can't imagine what Baekhyun must be feeling.

The familiar sound of the security code being typed in is audible over the quiet atmosphere, bringing a smile to my lips as the front door opens.

"Honey," That honey-filled voice chimes, beautiful even with the tiredness in his soothing timbre. "I'm home-"

I carefully slide the food out of the pan, giving his plate the bigger portion, glancing over my shoulder at him while trying a piece of meat. He's just standing there in the middle of the room with parted lips, his white dress shirt straining against his chest and black blazer hanging off his biceps.

"Welcome home, Baekhyunee," I murmur, an amused smile tugging at my lips.

He hangs up his coat and blazer with an acknowledging hum, neatly placing his dress shoes on the shoe rack before slipping into his black house slippers, entering the kitchen with quick resounding footsteps.

My eyes flicker over to the beeping rice cooker as I finish emptying the meat from the pan, barely taking two steps before he's wrapping his arms around my waist. "You're home early."

"That I am," He muses, pressing a kiss to my hairline, strong arms tightening around me. "What's all this?"

"...Do you not recognize Bulgogi?" I frown, giving him the side-eye while scooping rice out of the cooker, smiling at the result. It's not overdone or undercooked. Perfect. "—Wait, is it that unrecognizable? Did I fuck-" I gasp, disoriented from being spun around so quickly.

Baekhyun chuckles, brown eyes twinkling in awe as he smiles down at me. "You didn't, baby." His thumb brushes over my lips, dexterous fingers curling stubborn strands of hair behind my ear. "I'm just surprised is all. What's the occasion?"

"Well..." I mumble, spooning a piece of meat on top of some rice. "I'm tired of getting takeout all the time. We may be busy, but I'll be damned if we buy food that we can cook in mere minutes like what's the point? When we can just-" My eyes flutter close, heart rate exhilarating at the feeling of his soft pillows pressed to mine.

"Let's cook more often," He proposes with a smile, leaning down to take a bite of the spoonful of food held in my frozen hand. Not even two seconds go by before his eyes widen.

"What?" My eyes enlarge the longer he's quiet; he's chewing so nonchalantly I have the urge to run away in a burst of panic.

"It's amazing," He mumbles after a few minutes, eyes sparkling so brightly while gazing at me, planting a kiss on my nose. "I love it."

"You…" I blink a few times, lightly smacking his arm. "You jerk!"

Baekhyun just laughs, pulling me further into his warm embrace. Brown eyes forming cute crescent moons.

"I thought you didn't like it," I mumble, slumping in defeat, unmistakable warmth rising on my cheeks.

"Why wouldn't I?" He murmurs, planting a kiss on top of my head. The tiredness from a long day of work only amplifying the sexy rasp of his voice. "Even if you burnt it to a crisp, I'd compliment you."

I scoff with a racing heart, stepping out of his hold, "That's not very honest."

"Mmhm, but-" He chuckles softly, taking me by the hand and spinning me back around, love shining in those deep brown orbs of his. He's breathtaking under the dim overhead light of the stove that will need to be replaced soon. The faint glow and coupling shadows cast over his features in a captivating way, making him appear older and reformed yet reflecting the youthful emotions in his eyes all the same. His silver hair is blinding under the reflective light; surprisingly the least bit ruffled in its state over his forehead. How someone can look so stunning after working all day will always astonish me, but that's just him.

"I'm honestly in love with you," Baekhyun utters in a heart-quaking hush as if sharing a secret, setting my cheeks aflame. "—And your cooking. Holy shit, what did you put in this?"

I shoot him a small, secretive smile, resting my hand on his bicep, "It's a secret~"

"A secret, huh?" Baekhyun muses, arching a brow, fighting a smile. He briefly glances down at my mouth at that moment, licking his lips before leaning in.

"Ah-" I take a step back just as his soft pillows brush against mine, bracing my hand on his firm chest when he steps closer. "Don't you dare."

"What?" He mumbles, meeting my eyes, pink lips jutted out in the tiniest pout.

Shifting my gaze away from the unfairly adorable sight, I mutter, "I spent all afternoon marinating that meat. You better not let it get cold."

"I'm hungry for something else at the moment," He murmurs lowly, biting his lip. Just those words alone from his sinful mouth make my insides quiver. I clear my throat, trying my best to keep a flush from reappearing on my face as he runs a hand through his silver hair, giving me those darkening brown eyes.

Spotting a magazine out of the corner of my eye, I grab it just as he's leaning in again, promptly smacking his arm. "Dessert comes after dinner—if," I breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, "you're lucky."

"May luck be on my side then..." He hums thoughtfully, swiping his thumb over his lips; slender fingers softly squeezing my waist. His dark brown orbs lift back up to mine, eyeing me intensely for a long minute. My cheeks redden at the implications.

Baekhyun finally shifts his attention back to the steaming plates. "I'll handle these. Go sit down."

"I-"

He turns those dark brown eyes onto me again, the mischievous promises swirling within them enough to weaken my knees. I spin around on my heel without another word, hurrying to the dining table. He brings both the plates over, setting them down on the winter-themed table mats placed in front of our designated seats. We prefer sitting next to each other when having meals together at home—some nights spent with my right hand being held securely in his left one.

Baekhyun slides into his chair just as I pick up a pair of chopsticks, the faint scent of his cologne tickles my nose. Would it be silly to say that the room seems to warm up whenever he is around? He's like a little source of comfort and warmth, relaxing me in any situation. It doesn't matter where I am; if he is there, I'll know I'm safe, that everything's going to be alright.

"Say ah," Baekhyun's melodic voice rings, sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

I pause mid-bite, glancing over at him. He continues to hold up a piece of meat despite my incredulous stare, "Really?"

He just smiles sweetly, patiently waiting, his bright brown eyes sparkling when I take the offered food with a playfully annoyed sigh.

"I missed you today," He murmurs warmly, pointedly staring down at his plate. My heart nearly jumps out my chest at the sweetness. I bite my lips to fight back a smile, holding back a giggle. It's always heartwarming to know that even after all this time, I'm not the only one bursting at the seams with my love for him. He's so fucking adorable.

"I missed you too," I mutter, kissing his rosy cheek before shifting my attention back to my food. "Eat up, you've had a long day."

"Oh baby, you have no idea." He groans. The familiar sound of metal cutlery clinking against glass dishes fills the room.

"Wanna share?" I inquire, resting my chin on my palm, carefully picking up a few pieces of beef and rice. I gaze intently at him with an encouraging smile.

"I've had three meetings since the afternoon," He grumbles, a tired smile briefly tugging at his lips. "Someone kept messing up the orders and a truckload of the material conveniently ended up shipped to the wrong facility."

"Conveniently?" My gaze flickers to his glass of water on the table, dangerously close to the edge. I move it closer to the center of the table mat, eyes widening slightly at the clench of his jaw. His eyes are full of that stern businessman gleam he only gets when he's restraining the urge to go off on a subordinate.

"Mmm." His body is rigid despite his calm tone, voice deeper than usual, "I swear that they are out to get on my nerves." He speaks slowly as if containing his anger. "We've been at this for years, why haven't they got their shit together yet?"

"Did you get the shipment?" My voice is soft as I tentatively rest my head on his shoulder, stroking his arm.

Baekhyun hums, relaxing a little, resting his head on top of mine. "It's frustrating." He sighs.

"Good thing you're the boss then," I chirp, peeking at him, cheekily adding, "You can yell at them and you won't get fired."

Thankfully, my words make him laugh, breaking the tension in his broad shoulders. The joyous sound rumbles his chest and echoes off of the walls.

"Shh!" I whisper, softly covering his mouth, making a show of looking around. "Yah, don't wake the neighbors. They might think I'm watching questionable comedy again."

Baekhyun only laughs harder, pressing a kiss to my palm before taking my hand into his own, his brown orbs lit up in amusement. "That movie was a wild ride."

"Literally," I agree, raising my brows to broaden his smile. "How much longer do you have to work these long hours?" My tone comes out whiner than intended, but I just hide my face in his neck, basking in his comforting scent.

"A few more days," He mumbles, kissing my head, gently tangling his fingers in my hair. "Why? Do you miss me?" He teases, curling a strand around his finger.

My heart downright quivers. "Nah, I'm just curious—of course, I miss you!" I retort, scoffing, shooting him a look. "12-hour shifts are too much. You're gonna start getting gray hair for real."

"Just until Thursday, baby." He murmurs, chuckling at my doubtful expression, tucking hair behind my ear, and cupping my cheek in his warm palm. "Two more days and then I'm all yours."

"Are you sure about that?" Muttering under my breath, I get lost in the mocha brown of his eyes, my own fluttering shut at the light kiss he presses to my lips.

"Mmm as sure as I am about loving you," He smiles, caressing my cheek with his thumb, gazing adoringly into my eyes.

If I was standing, I'm positive I would have stumbled over my feet by now. I swear this man and his affection will make me melt into a damn puddle one day—possibly today at this rate.

The loud buzz of a phone goes off in the room. Heavy vibrations come from the left pocket of Baekhyun's black slacks, warmly pressed against my thigh. He pulls it out without breaking eye contact, but the sight of a child out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. My heart quickly sinks at the realization that…

This kid looks just like the man next to me.

"Hello?" Baekhyun hums, closing his eyes, a peaceful expression forming on his features until they snap back open. "What did you say?" He breathes, straightening up, face going pale the longer the person's muffled speech filters through the phone.

My eyes shift back and forth between him and the blank screen of his phone, the image of that child still circling around my mind. Who is he? Why is there a picture of a child that resembles him so much on his phone?

Baekhyun and I never really talked about his family, despite him meeting mine. I just assumed that it was a touchy topic or something, so I never—

"I can't—I can't," He grits out, abruptly leaning away from me, knuckles white from his tight grip on the device. He roughly runs a hand through his hair, growing more agitated by the second. "My schedule is packed for the next two weeks. I won't be able to..." He goes quiet, listening as his brown eyes drift over to mine. The nearly blank look in them makes my heart race, and not in a good way.

"I understand," He mutters, ending the call.

The silence that stretches out in the space between us while he re-pockets his phone is unbearable. Even more so with the way he seems to avoid my eye, crossing his arms over his heaving chest; a faraway look within his dimmed brown orbs.

It takes a few deep breaths for me to dare to say anything, reaching out towards him only to lower my hand back to my lap, curling it into a fist. "...Baekhyun?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps up, blinking a few times before meeting my gaze. The unfamiliar daze in his tired eyes is worrisome, "Yeah, baby?"

"That…" I bite the inside of my cheek, not sure how to go about the question I'm dying to ask. Baekhyun rarely gets like this—he gets angry, yes, but to reach this extent of...rage? I only recall witnessing it last fall when I had my phone off all night, and that one time I almost sliced off my thumb while trying to peel potatoes. Multiple chirps of his phone has my eyes darting back down to his pocket.

Baekhyun follows my line of sight, realization dawning on his features. "Ah..." He nods, adam's apple bobbing in his throat, smiling a little before reaching out for me. "Sorry about that, my love."

"Who was that?" I try my best not to seem stiff when he pulls me into his arms, but by the way his smile falls off his face, he already knows.

"My brother," He mumbles, pressing kisses to my forehead, gathering me closer despite the protesting squeak of our chairs.

"And the kid?" I look at him dead in the eye, leaning back regardless of the frown forming on his face.

"Hmm?" He tilts his head for a moment, brown eyes soon widening. "Oh! That." His sheepish smile is borderline guilty as he ruffles his hair, uttering quietly, "That's my nephew. Isn't he adorable?"

Nodding slowly, I hum, turning to poke aimlessly at my cold food. "Looks just like you."

Baekhyun's arm tenses up under my hand. He pulls the phone back out of his pocket. "You mean his father. See?" After a few swipes of his finger, he holds it up; the device displays an image of the little kid and an older-looking version of Baekhyun. "Baekbeom and I got confused a lot growing up."

Uh-huh... My heart squeezes uncomfortably in my chest as I twirl a chopstick around my plate. "Why do you never talk about them?" I whisper, taking a peek at him.

"Why don't you ever ask?" He shrugs, lips twitching—an almost annoyed tone in his voice.

"O-Oh well..." The painful throb in my chest is immediate. I grit my teeth, lowering my head and pushing away from the table. "I'll go wash the dishes-"

"No—wait." Baekhyun grabs my wrist, gently pulling me to him. "Come here." He whispers, wide eyes flickering all over my person.

"The chair's gonna break," I mutter, avoiding his eye, reluctantly sitting on the edge of his lap.

"Shh—baby." His voice has taken on that soft comforting timbre he reserves for dreary nights and hushed calls between meetings. His strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me further into his warmth. "Look at me, please?" He tucks a finger under my chin, coaxing me to face him.

Shaking my head, I keep my eyes down on my hands, fully content with examining the state of my chipped nail polish instead.

Baekhyun sighs after a while. "I'm sorry," He mumbles, hugging me to his chest, nuzzling his nose into my hair. "I had a long day and shouldn't be taking it out on you."

"And I cooked for you." I huff quietly, crossing my arms. "Next time I'm making food for myself. You can stick to your precious takeout."

"No," He whines, hiding further in my hair. "I want your food. Your cooking is the best."

"You only had one meal." I roll my eyes.

"And I want them all." He pulls back, cupping my cheek in his hand, staring deep into my eyes. "I want all of you."

There's no holding back the smile that automatically forms on my face, but his words do nothing to ease the lump in my throat or the burn of his actions. No amount of butterflies in my stomach can hide the fact that... there are parts of Baekhyun's life that he refuses to share with me. But there's no point in getting upset over something I've known for over a year, is it?

Baekhyun peeks over at me mid-bite. "What?"

"Nothing," I murmur, breaking out of my daze, mustering up a smile. Gently wiping away a grain of rice from the corner of his lips. "You're just so cute, I bet you were adorable as a kid."

"Mmhm." He nods nonchalantly, though his reddening cheeks are a dead giveaway. "Our kids will be lucky."

I splutter, damn near dropping the glass in my hand. "Baek!" My light slap on his chest does nothing to disturb his laughter. "Stop playing, I'm still upset."

His chuckles evaporate in an instant. "I'm not." The serious tone of his voice mirrors the determination in his eyes. "I mean it."

My eyes widen, "Oh..."

"Do you ever think about it?" Baekhyun's voice barely reaches a whisper, he meets my eyes with a bashful expression before looking away. "Having kids, I mean."

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" He breathes, wide brown eyes focused on me. The utterly surprised look on his face is refreshing to say the least.

I nod, choosing my words carefully, "I wouldn't mind 2, 3, 4 mini me's."

"Four!?" The chair creaks as he leans back in astonishment. If his eyes were wide before, they are the size of saucers now. "Are you mad, woman?"

"No! I just-" It's hard to formulate words with his fingers mercilessly tickling my sides. "Stop." I groan, laughing, batting his hands away. "Can't I dream about having a bunch of cute kids?" I shrug, looking away. "I dream big, so what?"

"Nothing." He smiles, bright orbs dancing, softly squeezing my waist. "Keep dreaming, baby."

"Mmhm." Relaxing against him, I wrap my arm around his neck, giving him a look. "What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm' me." His widening smile is contagious, I just want to kiss it off of him. "How many kids you want?" I murmur, picking lint off of his dress shirt, peeking under my eyelashes at him. He stays quiet as I gently curl his hair around my finger, "Go on. Spill."

"Doesn't matter," He mumbles, pressing a kiss to my palm, picking up his chopsticks again.

"Really?" I arch a brow, not the least bit convinced. "Are you sure? I bet you want two."

"Nope." The word comes out muffled around the cheek-full of food in his mouth. Even his audible chewing is adorable and attractive.

I scoff in disbelief, smiling a little with a tilt of my head, resting it on his shoulder. "How many do you want then?"

"Doesn't matter the number or gender," He shakes his head, neatly setting his chopsticks down on his empty plate. "I just want them." He peeks at me, "With you."

My brows raise in surprise. "Thinking ahead, are we?"

He shrugs, a smile quirking at his lips. "I like being prepared."

"You know life is unpredictable, right?" I mutter, narrowing my eyes at his cheeky expression.

Baekhyun smiles sweetly, pulling the collar of my oversized shirt off my shoulder, brushing his lips over my skin. "Then I hope life predicts me with you."

It takes everything in me to hold in a gasp, tangling my fingers further in his silver locks. "What are you up to now?"

"Making it up to you." He leaves a trail of soft smooches up to my collarbone, nibbling at the sensitive skin, gently digging his fingers further into the swell of my waist.

"Making it up..." I mumble, melting into him, resting my hand over his heart. "How exactly?"

"Well." He pulls back with a tiny grin, biting his lip, pure mischief swirling within his sparkling eyes. "There are many ways my mouth can apologize..."

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: What is Baekhyun up to now? I swear he grows more complex by the day. Do I write the fic or does the fic write itself? (>.<) let’s not talk about the filth that leaves his mouth (<.<) *coughs* 😳🔥🌹 onto part 2 we go~

#baekhyun smut #bbh-net #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #baekhyun angst #Six Phases

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banshee-cheekbones · 7 years

Text

title: right where we belong [ao3: here]

fandom: Preacher

main pairing: Emily Woodrow/Tulip O’Hare

rating: m, for sexual content

word count: ~3000

written for: Femslash February, the ‘domesticity’ square on my FemTrope Bingo Card, and for the Femslash February Celebrates Black Women' event!

summary: Tulip O'Hare possesses a long, long list of talents and skills (some more illicit than others), but if there’s one thing she’s perfect at, it’s slotting into Emily’s life like she was meant to be there from day one.

If there's one thing that Tulip O'Hare is good at, it's making amazing microwave popcorn.

Of course, that's far from her only talent; in the months that have passed since Tulip whirled into Emily's life with all the grace and fury of a tornado, she's demonstrated that she's in possession of a long, long list of impressive skills. There are some that Emily thinks she'd rather not know about; like how Tulip can drive 110 while simultaneously thumbing away on her cellphone, how she can snap a man's wrist clean through his skin with one swift movement, how she can nurture a vampire back to health with nary a grimace in sight, even when her hands are soaked in animal blood.

Emily knows all of those skills are part of what makes Tulip... well, what makes her Tulip, but still. She thinks she would have been happy remaining willfully oblivious of those particular skills.

Thankfully, Tulip also possesses a number of other talents that aren't so illicit. She's surprisingly patient and tolerant with the kids, although Emily doesn't think she'll ever forgive Tulip for accidentally teaching them to curse when they stub their toe on the corner of the couch. She always manages to rustle up supplies for the church before they actually run out, and she's more than capable of picking Emily up and carrying her to bed.

(Emily is sure that looks rather ridiculous, since she's almost four inches taller than Tulip and has at least fifteen pounds on her, but she's always been too distracted to look in any of the mirrors they pass.)

She can mix drinks in only a few seconds, use her sharp tongue to tell off Jesse (or the sheriff, or Cassidy, or anyone else, for that matter) without flinching, and then use that same tongue hours later to make Emily's breath catch and toes curl.

But while all of those skills are important and valuable, after a long day of running errands for the church followed by a six hour shift at the diner, Emily values the popcorn the most.

They’re on their second bowl of the night, and Emily’s fingers are greasy with butter; the real stuff, not the cheap junk that comes in a plastic yellow tub, or the almost orange gunk they offer at the movies. They’re both curled up on the couch, backs resting against opposite armrests, legs entangled in the middle, the bucket resting on the dip between their knees. Tulip’s bare toes are curled against Emily’s hip, resting just underneath the hem of her orange work polo. Tulip’s still wearing the same thing she had when she blearily stumbled into Emily’s kitchen at seven o’clock in the morning; a black crop top with fringing hanging down, a baggy, ripped pair of jeans that used to be Emily’s, and a soft cloth headband to keep her dark curls pushed off her face.

There’s a black and white detective movie playing on the television, casting the room in unsteady flickering light. The volume is down low, but closed captions roll at the bottom of the screen. The movie is reaching its ending and amazingly, not one of the kids has interrupted them by asking for a glass of water or another blanket or for their sibling to stop snoring.

“You didn’t drug my kids, did you?” Emily asks teasingly during the next commercial break, absently licking a drop of butter off her finger.

“Doped them right up,” Tulip replies, grabbing a single piece of popcorn, tilting her head back, and tossing it straight into her mouth. “Nah, just read them that story they all like. Added some details of my own. They were out in five minutes.”

“They never do that for me,” Emily says, more than a little envious, as she adds master storyteller to her internal list of Tulip’s many skills.

“Maybe you ain’t doin’ the voices right.” Tulip grins at her as she slides her foot a little higher up Emily’s shirt, poking her lowest rib.

“Maybe my voices are too good for them to sleep through,” Emily retorts, a grin of her own spreading across her face. She’s still getting used to this, the easy back and forth, the teasing that never grows mean, never has some kind of hidden edge to it. It’d never been like that with her husband; he’d been a serious, stoic man, strong and rigid as a pillar of rock. He almost never laughed, only smiled when she welcomed him home.

But he’d been a good man, and she’d loved him, truly. It’d just been a different kind of love than what she has with Tulip, no better or worse.

“Whatever you say,” Tulip drawls, as the film comes back on. Emily dips her hand into the popcorn bowl and comes back with only a few kernels that are slippery with butter. She drops them back into the bowl and brings her fingers to her mouth, licking off some of the residual taste.

(She peeks behind herself first, at the hallway leading down to the kid’s rooms, just to make sure there’s no one standing there, waiting to call her out on her bad habits.)

“We out again?” Tulip asks, taking the bowl and setting it on the already cluttered coffee table.

“Yeah, but I'm fine. Two bowls is enough for one night.” Her fingers are no longer covered in butter, but they still feel gross, so she reluctantly untangles her legs from Tulip’s. “Lemme know if I miss anything important. I need to wash my hands.”

“Bet he did it,” Tulip responds, pointing to the main character, a world weary detective with a jet black suit and a constant stream of cigarette smoke curling over his shoulder. “It’s always the fucking cops.”

“You’re probably right,” Emily laughs, craning over the back of the couch to quickly press her lips against Tulip’s. When she pulls back, her lips are tingling slightly, and they continue to do so all the way to the bathroom.

She takes her time in the bathroom, scrubbing soap between her fingers and under her nails, until her hands ache from the hot water pouring over them. She towels them thoroughly and, after glancing at the overflowing hamper in the corner of the room, decides to add her work shirt and thick khakis to the top of the pile, swapping them out for a faded t-shirt and equally faded pink pajama pants. It’s far from a sexy outfit, but she’s long since given up on going out of her way to impress Tulip.

(The first few times had just ended in embarrassment, after which Tulip straight out told her there was no need to go out of her way. She was “more than perfect” just the way she was, without lace or frills or attempting something she’d read about in a magazine.

Emily thought that might have been one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her.)

As she pads back into the hallway, she takes a moment to linger outside the kid’s rooms and listen. There’s quiet music playing from the boy’s room, presumably from their new iPad (which Tulip had showed up with one day) but other than that, not a single sound.

“They still out?” Tulip asks once Emily comes back into the living room. The television has switched to another movie, color this time, a Western if the sand swept scene is anything to go by. Tulip’s no longer sprawled out; she’s sitting up, back against the cushions, arms stretched along the back of the sofa.

“Like lights,” Emily says, sinking back into the couch. “You sure you didn’t drug them?”

“Not on purpose,” Tulip says with a lazy shrug. “Maybe they got in my trunk when I wasn’t looking.” Emily rolls her eyes, but before she can do more than drop her mouth open to speak, there’s a flurry of movement as Tulip rolls up and onto her lap, knees tucked into the cushions on either side of Emily’s waist. The flickering light of the television coronas around her head like the world’s most unsteady halo, and Emily has to resist the urge to reach out and touch it. She settles for dropping her hands to Tulip’s hips, warm and bare and soft above the frayed waistline of her jeans.

“Were you planning this?” she asks, biting her lip as Tulip slides her fingers over the crown of her head to where her hair is still pulled into a tight ponytail.

“Not exactly,” Tulip replies. “Just saw an opportunity.” Her fingers brush over the elastic and she raises an eyebrow, waiting for permission. Emily nods, carefully staying still as Tulip works the tight elastic out. She sighs with relief as her hair drops loose around her shoulders, Tulip’s combing fingers working it of the prison it’s been in all day.

“Better?” she asks, nails gently scraping down Emily’s neck. Emily nods, curling her thumbs to brush along Tulip’s waist. Her jeans have slid down low enough for the elastic of her underwear to be visible, poking out of the top, a dark stripe of black tattooed against her brown skin. She idly thumbs at it as Tulip hunches over and presses a hard kiss against her forehead.

“You’re beautiful,” she mumbles, curling one hand around the back of Emily’s neck as her mouth trails down her cheek, which immediately flushes with warmth. It’s one tiny remark, but the way Tulip says it, almost reverent, like she’s at prayer, makes Emily feel like she could spontaneously combust and be completely content with it.

She knows that they should move to the bedroom; it may be closer to the her children’s rooms, but at least there would be a locked door to shield them if anyone got up for a glass of water or to use the bathroom. Here, all it would take is a few steps down the hallway to step into the living room, and while the couch would block out something, Emily isn’t sure if it would be enough.

But it’s been over two hours, and none of the kids have come out.

It’s a risk, but she thinks that it's one worth taking.

She cranes up and meets Tulip halfway, lips curling around each other automatically, slotting together like a record and a needle. Tulip’s hand tightens on the back of her neck, and her tongue presses forward, scraping along Emily’s bottom lip and coaxing out a quiet sigh that Emily still barely recognizes as herself, even after all this time. A gunshot rings out from the television screen, and Tulip abruptly pulls away.

“Don’t think we need that right now,” she says, twisting at the hips and arching backwards until her hand snags the remote (and knocks the empty bowl of popcorn over in the process). She thumbs at the mute button and plunges the room into near silence, aside from the sound of shifting fabric as Emily moves and the very faint strains of music coming from down the hallway. When Tulip moves back, she idly plucks at the thin straps of her crop top.

“Want this off?” she asks. Emily muses for a few moments, thumbs smoothing over the thin skin stretched over Tulip’s hipbones. Having Tulip’s shirt off would make things considerably easier, but it would also make it significantly harder to explain if one of the kids happens to wander out of their room.

“Maybe not today,” she sighs reluctantly, twirling one finger around a hanging piece of fringe brushing against Tulip’s navel. Tulip just shrugs.

“Alright. I can work with that,” she says before leaning back down and returning to Emily’s lips hard enough to push her head back against the couch.

They don’t remain sitting up for long. While the light from the silent television flickers and spasms, they shift and twist until Emily is on her back, half-slumped against the armrest, her loose hair mussed around her shoulders, too-big t-shirt bunched around her ribs. When Tulip situates herself between Emily’s legs, her cloth headband slips down her forehead and over her eyes like a makeshift blindfold and, with a muttered curse, she tears it off and tosses it over the back of the couch, into the darkness of the living room.

“You know, we’re never going to find that again,” Emily says, tucking her knees tight around Tulip’s hips.

“Doesn't bother me,” Tulip says. “There’s plenty more at the dollar store where that came from.”

Emily is fairly certain that the subtext in that statement is that there’s plenty more waiting to be stolen, and she doesn't exactly condone that, but she has more important things to focus on at the moment, like how Tulip’s lips are slipping over her neck and flitting up to her jaw. Everywhere she moves, she leaves behind flushed skin, and Emily feels like she’s slowly melting from the inside out.

And that’s before Tulip speaks again.

“You’re the best thing about this town,” she says quietly, her warm breath brushing over the base of Emily’s neck, around the stretched out collar of her shirt. “The only thing worth sticking around for.” Part of Emily thinks that she should stick up for Annville, say that it has some redeeming features, but she knows that Tulip won’t listen to her.

(And, frankly, she’s not sure that she could think of any real redeeming qualities, not unless she set a few hours aside just for thinking).

Instead, she gasps softly and wraps her hand around Tulip’s shoulder, cheeks flushing like coals. Tulip’s teeth scrape gently against her collarbone before she settles back on her knees. Shadows flicker across her sharp cheekbones and jaw.

“Want me to keep going?” she asks, hands settling on the drawstring waist of Emily’s pajama pants.

“Yes,” Emily responds with a swift nod. “Please.” Tulip’s teeth press into her bottom lip and her head quickly turns to glance down the hallway towards the kid’s rooms. She only looks for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity, and Emily finds herself squeezing her thighs together for relief from the warm heat pooling between her legs.

“You gonna be able to stay quiet for me?’ Tulip asks with a raised eyebrow, tugging Emily’s pajamas down an inch. Emily nods again. Normally, Tulip likes to hear her, whispers in Emily’s ear or against her heated skin that she can be louder, but this definitely isn't the time for that.

“I’ll be quiet,” she whispers. The room plunges into darkness for a moment as the movie fades into a commercial, and when the light floods back, Tulip is smiling at her, dark eyes sparkling.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, hooking her fingers and finally, blessedly, tugging down Emily’s pants and underwear in one swoop.

Emily has to bite back a relieved whimper.

Tulip only pauses long enough to grab a blanket from the back of the couch and drape it over her back before she curls over her knees and buries her face between Emily’s thighs. Emily’s pants and underwear are still wrapped around her ankles, which means she can’t open her legs any wider, and a frustrated groan leaves her mouth unbidden.

“Hey,” Tulip says, tone soft, as she pokes her head out from underneath the blanket. “You alright? We can move.”

“No,” Emily says, yanking one foot out of her pajamas, which gives her at least some freedom. “I’m okay. Please keep going.”

“You’ve got it, darlin'.”

The next time a noise slips from Emily’s lips, it’s the furthest thing from frustrated.

It takes her some time to catch her breath afterwards. As her chest rises and falls and spots of color flash beneath her closed eyelids, Tulip presses kisses along the curves of her trembling thighs and up to her stomach.

“You’re amazing,” Emily gasps, pulling in a deep breath of air that still smells like popcorn. She feels Tulip’s mouth twitch against her stomach as she continues moving upward, blanket falling away from her head and down her back.

“Hon, you’re the amazin' one,” Tulip says, pressing one last kiss just below the curve of Emily’s breast before she sits up on her knees. Her lips part to say something, but before a word can come out, a tiny, exhausted voice comes drifting from down the hallway.

“Mommy? Can I have some water, please?”

Emily sighs and reluctantly opens her eyes. She was hoping she’d get a chance to return the favor to Tulip before they were interrupted, but she’s not surprised that her luck didn’t turn that way. But, as she starts to sit up, Tulip stops her by gently pressing her hand to Emily’s chest.

“You stay here,” she says, leaning down and pressing her mouth against Emily’s briefly. “I’ll get her some water.” With that, she slides off the couch and disappears out of Emily’s sight, footsteps soft on the worn carpet leading down the hallway.

“Your mama’s asleep, honey. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright. Let's go together.” Emily takes that as a sign to pull her pants back up, and she’s just barely gotten herself fully clothed and hidden under the blanket when Tulip walks by, effortlessly carrying Alice on her hip like she’s been doing it since Alice was born. Tulip briefly catches her eye and smiles before continuing on her way, asking Alice quietly if she wants anything else. Emily slumps back against the couch and sighs gratefully.

Tulip O’Hare may be good at making a great bowl of microwave popcorn, but if there’s one thing she’s perfect at, it’s slotting into Emily’s life like she was meant to be there from day one.

#femslash february #ffcbw #femtropebingo #preacher fanfiction #preacher #so i'm gonna need y'all to write more femslash for this fandom #there's only like six real fics and i've written three #mine #mine: fic #emilytulip #long post #food mention cw

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