I always imagined the doodle sphere as just a yellowish cyanish world with papers or islands flying around it (Just like most of us do) but I also had in mind an idea that at the "bottom" of the sorta void doodle sphere you can see destroyed AU's, or just unstable AU's/Not known AU's whateva...which has pretty big amount of creations lol
If I had a series or I would do an actual comic (impossible) , this thingy would definitely appear hehe
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— PAIRING: Bang Chan x fem!reader
— SUMMARY: The four times you left him baffled during your pregnancy and the one time he never understood more clearer.
— WORD COUNT: 7.1k (dayummm)
— WARNINGS: BIG PILES OF ANGST!, depictions of panic attacks, chris trying to be the best baby daddy, pregnant!reader, depictions of pregnancy problems (morning sickness, momnesia, and mentions of being big), joke about cheating, crazy working conditions (normal kpop behavior), mentions of anxiety and depression, hyunjin mentions, maybe tokophobia (not completely sure), a little inspired by if i had legs i'd kick you, cursing
— a/n: part 2 to bodyguard, read part 1 here. format inspired by this fanfic by @overtheggum
Contrary to popular belief, your pregnancy actually came out of nowhere.
Yes, you wanted kids but you hadn't expected them now, or this early. But you were playing fast and loose, it was bound to happen.
All you did was bring him lunch on your day-off.
You weren't planning on anything to happen, you usually weren't.
That's how it gets you.
One quickie on the studio couch and a screaming Hyunjin later, and now you're with child.
It was unexpected but that didn't make you love your baby any less. You just got her earlier than you thought.
Emphasis on her. You're having a girl.
Only a few of your co-workers knew you had a boyfriend so they were the only ones that this pregnancy wouldn't sound crazy to. They even gave you a small baby shower in the locker room. Gifts, cake, and an annoying sash that read 'mommy-to-be'.
Seo-joon kind of lurked in the hallway, listening to the soft music that was playing, yearning like a dog at the dinner table.
Over the weeks, you got bigger so the kids started noticing.
Some were nice, asking if they could feel it or what gender she was. Others were actual demons from Hell, trying to hit you in the stomach or poke you.
You were eternally grateful for maternity leave.
Seeing kids everyday at their worst moments, bent or broken or bleeding, you just couldn't help imagining your unborn bundle of joy.
It was no wonder you and Chris were together, neither one of you knew how to calm down; it was a match made in heaven. When he had a day-off, he would spend it still worrying about the boys.
While on maternity leave, you told yourself you were going to read every pregnancy book possible, even as a nurse, you were still mad unprepared for this baby. And you refused to learn on the job, not again.
Anything there was to learn about babies, you were going to master it.
Turns out no one is the parenting expert.
Especially not you.
THE FIRST TIME; THE MARKET MISHAP
Being pregnant makes you mad fucking hungry.
Proven fact.
Food was being bought every two days it felt like, you were just running through things. You wanted to blame it on Chris but you knew that wasn't even slightly possible.
You were in fact eating as he was speaking to you.
He was going over your grocery list since he had to make another trip and he had the nerve to look at you sideways when you said you had to buy more of those fancy chocolates you seemed to like so much.
"I just bought a whole box a few days ago," he mentioned like it mattered.
"I don't know how to tell you this but our child is already bougie as fuck. She's not even born and she's getting spoiled."
He smiled all bright and shiny.
Our child.
He got all goofy every time you said it. They were his favorite pairing of words.
Not only were you carrying a baby but his baby; the one you were going to raise together, the one that was going to have your face, your hair, your smile. He was as giddy as a school girl just thinking about it.
He was less ecstatic about going to the market for what felt like the 10th time this month.
He knew not to tell you no though.
You were carrying life, the least he could do was be your little errand monkey. Sometimes he sort of liked it.
After all, he loved when you were bossy.
He makes sure to write down fancy chocolates when he makes the grocery list.
"When you get the chocolate, you can't get it from the market close by though. She doesn't like those, she rejects them every time without fail. She only likes the ones from the coffee place by your studio, that's where we found them."
His memory and brain power felt like it upgraded as he got ready to be a dad. He didn't write down your add-on.
He's prepared to remember that shit off the cuff.
And weirdly enough, he does days later once he finally makes this much-needed trip to the grocery mart.
He even plans it out so he can go to the coffee shop first, get himself a drink before he started shopping and pick up your chocolates, just to get it out of the way firsthand.
He orders his Americano no problem.
It's when he looks for the chocolate display that he runs into a snag.
Usually it was right by the register, but now it was replaced by some weird animal cookies.
He tried not to panic.
Once the barista comes back with his drink, he inquires about the chocolate. Turns out, that was just a promotion for last month, they don't sell them anymore.
Wrench, meet Plans.
He knows you're going to ream his ass if he comes home without your candy. Pregnant you was a different beast.
Beautiful but scary.
He thinks about asking if they have an extra in the back leftover, but then he decides against it since he knows he doesn't want you eating month old chocolate.
On his way to the market, he battles with breaking the news to you.
He knows you don't like the flavor that the market puts on the chocolate, you explained it to him days ago.
But he doesn't want to disappoint.
So he does the unthinkable and he buys the bad chocolate. His brain doesn't work like yours, he couldn't fathom how the air in the market could be any more different than in the coffee shop.
Your mind was probably playing tricks on you.
It didn't sound the nicest so he never spoke it out loud but pregnancy was doing things to your brain.
Typically where he didn't have neurons, you were the sense that he needed. The good influence that was still required in adulthood. But when you were with child, you moved a little slower.
Not just physically but mentally.
It took you an extra second to understand things now, you forgot more often, and you weren't able to do the things you normally did because you could no longer remember how to do them.
It was a mind game. Maybe if he didn't tell you where he got them from, you wouldn't notice. At least that's what he told himself with every stair that brought him closer to you.
You greeted him with that sluggish smile that let him know you just woke up, he tried not to gush at your cute puffy face.
"Hey, you're back."
He scoffed. "Barely. Going to the market so much is making me realize how much I actually hate shopping for food."
Your muscles crackle and pop with your stretch. He doesn't struggle bringing the bags in thankfully. His arms are sore from the gym but he just categorized it as practice for the baby.
And that's enough to power through without question.
"Did you get the chocolate?"
A chill went down his spine.
He paused slightly, not enough for your brain to notice but just right to cause a stutter in his steps. He continued on like nothing was wrong.
"Yeah, of course."
He fished it out of the open bag that he had just dropped on the counter and walked over to the couch with shaky legs.
He didn't even get to cross the threshold before your hand is slapped over your mouth and you're gagging.
All his resolve melted in a minute. Any decision he ever made was the wrong choice. You were always right no matter your condition. And he should listen to you. Forever.
He dropped it like it was hot and kicked it behind him.
"Actually, they were out."
You spent the rest of the night running back and forth to the bathroom because of the smell.
It doesn't make sense to his mind but he doesn't fight you on it.
Pregnancy was weirdly specific and he shouldn't try to trick it when it was clearly the superior being.
Once again, you were the smarter one.
THE SECOND TIME; TUMMY TROUBLES
Another proven fact; you get bigger.
As big as a house was how you put it. So big your toes had basically become non-existent in the many months you had been garnering your new figure.
Everyone kept on hammering it on though; 'You're glowing,' 'there's nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman,' or that you were already looking 'motherly'.
You definitely felt it.
When you want to just sit down and enjoy watching something but then there's a big ol' baby stomping on your bladder and now suddenly you have to pee.
Or how you were always more hungry than usual. And it was never for something normal.
You woke up and your feet were already on fire, as if you had just ran the longest marathon known to man.
You couldn't find anything nice to say about pregnancy. All of it was cons. The only thing you were holding on for was when she was finally in your arms and even then, that excitement was starting to not be enough anymore.
Not when it felt like you were literally getting the life sucked out of you in real time.
୨ৎ
All you were trying to do was make yourself some hwachae. The only thing you could hold down these days seemed to be fruit so of course this was your constant go-to.
It's the preparation that was the hardest for you though, mostly because she was in the way the entire time.
You couldn't even get the watermelon out of fridge before it fell on the floor, it wouldn't go past your stomach.
You spent a good minute bending and groaning, trying every angle possible to get it up onto the counter.
And Chan must've heard you all the way from the bathroom because soon enough, he was glued to your side once again, like he had been all month.
"Babe, you could have called me. I could have helped."
He grabbed it with ease, placing it on the counter.
"Maybe I wanted to do something for myself for once. I guess I can't do that anymore." You crossed your arms over your chest, a grimace permanent on your face.
He just laughed, he was thought your frustration was cute, you wanted to strangle him every time he laughed.
None of this was funny.
He wouldn't be cracking up if it was him walking around with all this extra weight.
"I'm glad you're having fun, because once she's out of my body, she's your responsibility for the first few weeks."
He smacked his teeth. "Wow, she hasn't even taken her first breath and you're already tired of her?"
You were quick to shake your head, you refused to submit to the stereotype of mothers hating their daughters so early, or at all for that matter.
"She's my baby, of course, I love her. My body is just going to need a moment to catch up with everything else."
Once again, he's heeing and hawing like his body is the one getting siphoned for all of its life source.
He's lucky he's cute.
"If anything, we're tired of you and your dumb little laugh."
His mouth fell open as he reached for the knife finally, preparing to cut your fruit for you. "What?! When we met, you told me you thought my laugh was cute."
"Yeah, it was. But not when I know that laugh is ping-ponging off the walls of my uterus like a fucking bounce house." You've gotten a little more snippy as well with your new development.
Just from listening to you talk and be in your environment, it's obvious that something's got you so despondent.
He keeps trying to dig, making comments to see if you'll bite but you just keep repeating the same thing: it's not her fault and things will be better once she's finally here.
Fighting the urge to Google what's wrong gets harder and harder everyday. But you're the nurse, if something was wrong, you would tell him.
So he meets you halfway.
"Ok, how bout I get your fruit and then I come rub your feet? Would that make you feel better?"
The speed at which your expression changed was unheard of. Out of nowhere, a villainous smirk is pushing you on cheeks. Your tongue finds its rightful place between your teeth.
"I knew I picked the right one to knock me up. It was close too — it was either you or Changbin."
You don't miss the way his face contorts as you waddle your way to couch.
"Changbin? Really? He's the one I have to worry about?!"
Now you're the laugher, giggling your way into the comfy divot you had been building up over time. Your show's already on, you melt in an instant.
Some quick chopping and some muttered curses to himself later, he comes bearing gifts. He makes sure your bowl and spoon are secure before he's leaned down in front of you.
For a good minute, you're in heaven — a nice refreshing treat and a pair of strong hands literally squeezing your pain away.
But then you catch the way he's looking at you.
He wants to say something but he's stopping himself from ruining your relaxing time. He opened his mouth, then it was closed.
You wait till the worry sets in between his eyebrows (and for your food to be gone) to actually bring it up.
"Are you miming something to me right now, Christopher? I'm not French. What's up?" He deflated when he was caught. He placed your legs back down on the pillow to rest before he joined you on the couch, sitting beside you.
"Are you feeling okay? You seem a little more blue than usual."
"Would you rather I be purple?"
You snicker at your joke, he remains quiet.
Now your shoulders are slumped. "It's not funny, Y/n. What's going on? Is it the baby? Should we call the doctor?" His hand lands on your stomach like rocks, hard and rough your brain makes it out to be.
There's a puddle of uncertainty in your chest. It doesn't make any sense, and yet it continued to fester within you. You could try to fumble through a explanation (one you didn't have) and bring him into your madness.
Neither one of you would feel better.
Not until you could name it.
So you omit a little.
"I think...I'm just tired, that's all. I'll be better once she's here."
He just nodded.
He doesn't fully buy it, you'd be worried if he did but he knows not to dig when you don't want him to. He reiterates; you'll say it when it's time.
THE THIRD TIME; YOUR ACCIDENTAL STUDIO SLUMBER
Today was like any other in the life of the big pregnant lady.
You had an appointment. It was just your normal check-up, you seemed to have one every day it felt as you were getting closer and closer to popping.
The only thing different?
Your shadow was missing.
Chris had to miss this one since he had to go into work for a few meetings he had to have over his paternity leave. That was something that also felt like was happening everyday.
As much as you both just wanted to just relax before your life was made anew, work still had to be banging on the door.
You worked a normal job, there was no pull when it came for you to have your time off. It was just protocol.
He does not work a normal job.
It was actually unprecedented for male idols to go on leave because they were having children. They were acting as if he was the very first. No one knew how to cope with him gone, there was basically a stick in the cog.
Their pressuring was constant these days, for him to fulfill his contract and go back to working obscene hours since he wasn't the one who had to push.
He didn't budge though, they could call him in to threaten with everything possible, he wasn't leaving your side when you needed him.
Besides for the obligated meetings they kept scheduling.
He didn't sweat this one that much though, he still drove you to your appointment. Luckily, your OB was not too far from JYPE.
He dropped you off and planned on picking you up once they were done lecturing him like a kid.
Although nothing was too out of order with you, you don't mention to your doctor the feeling you'd been having, it's not important.
Not yet.
You finish out before he does so like a woman who doesn't want to be surrounded by belly statues much longer, you trek the familiar way to the building.
It isn't your first time in your boyfriend's place of work, you had come to listen to them record sometimes when you were in the beginning of your relationship.
You certainly looked different than they saw you last.
Everyone asked you the normal questions: "When's she due?" — "What names were you thinking of?" — and for the new hires who just couldn't help talking to the pregnant girl, "Who's the father?"
Your short world tour of the building brought about great tiredness.
It didn't take much for you to get sleepy now. Just crossing the street and you were about to be down for the count.
But you couldn't go home.
He had the keys and you were supposed to go get lunch after this. Being in a place with limited seating as a pregnant woman is like leaving the house without headphones. It was unnatural, unheard of.
It made you want to rip your skin off.
Among other things.
You were about to give up hope when a stray thought popped into your brain. If your memory served you correctly, you could remember where the boys would usually record.
They definitely weren't in there today but you were absolutely positive there was a couch in there. A stinky one that smelled of boy farts and chip bags but sitting nonetheless!
You moved quicker than you ever did in your life.
God must have been taking pity on you since once you got there, the door was completely unlocked. No one inside the way it was expected and not too cold either—it's like the spot was made for you to chill for a second.
Sitting down, the cushions weren't too harsh on your bum, soft and relaxing for the first time all day.
It was too quiet for a place of business. There was no usual music pouring in from elsewhere, no rhythmic stomps rocking the walls, it could of been akin to a ghost town.
Everyone else must of been doing one of those company-wide events right now.
You weren't complaining, things were more soothing this way anyway.
So soothing, you didn't even noticed when your phone had slipped out of your hand and you were knocked out, drooling on the couch.
୨ৎ
Everyone's buzzing when Chris walks through the door.
By this point, it was hard not to hear about this endless fight that was going on behind closed doors. It was the talk of all the assistants who always seemed to be lurking.
'Hey, did you hear? Bang Chan got some girl pregnant and now the company's threatening to fire him.'
It wasn't true, but he didn't feel the need to clarify.
It was his life, he owed no one an explanation on what was going on in it.
He didn't need to listen to the lecture they were spewing, he's a grown man, the only person he had to listen to was himself and you. And you weren't around so ears were undeniably closed.
"Yah!"
He zapped out of his mind, meeting his manager's eyes with lackluster.
"Are you even listening to anything I'm saying right now?"
"I mean, it's kind of hard to hear when you're literally trying to tell me to abandon my girlfriend who's 9-months pregnant to make music while you have two other people who are perfectly capable of taking my place right now."
A pause as they both looked at each other, this dance was second nature at this point, there wasn't a step that was dissimilar.
It was a stare-down now.
"I don't know what you want me to do." The manager shrugged, his hands metaphorically tied.
"What are you expecting that I do? Are you telling me it's miss my daughter's birth or get fired? Because you lose. Without a doubt, every time."
His arms were at home crossed over his chest.
"No one is trying to terminate your contract. You are just not meeting the duties of your job. You can't just disappear when you're needed."
His righteous laugh seemed to be getting louder as time went on. This guy couldn't be serious.
Disappear was a little extreme, it's not like he left in the night with a bag and left a note. It should not be this mind-warping that he wants to take leave for his kid.
The note shouldn't be so cacophonous.
"And no one says you can't be there once she's born. It's just right now that you're not allowed this break. Legally. You can use your break time for taking care of her, just not until we're near her due date."
Clown music. The only things his ears were picking up was straight up clown horns, circus music because he surely was losing it.
"And if I don't come back this instant?"
Another pause.
"Then we'd be stepping into lawsuit territory."
Record scratch.
He could play cat and mouse with the company as much as he wanted, but not if it meant they could drag him into court for who knows how long. Not if it meant everyone was going to catch the brunt of it, including the people he loved most.
He refused to stress you out more than you already were.
As long as he could be with you both once you she was born, he could hold out for a few more weeks, after that, he could spend all his time with his family, sans company.
He let out a deep breath before meeting his manager's gaze once again.
"At least can I drive her home? Y/n is at an appointment right now, waiting for me. Am I allowed to pick her up before you make me clock in at the bullshit factory?"
He gives him a final solemn nod, it's courtesy letting him say goodbye before he goes off to prison.
At least, that's what it felt like.
Every step closer to the doctor's office was dreaded, each a little louder than the last and just slightly more damning. It sucked when you have to do things as an adult, especially if it doesn't make sense to you.
God also must've have wanted to give Chris another heart attack but when he showed up, you weren't there.
He asked the nurses: you had left out 45 minutes ago.
You couldn't get in the car without a key and you weren't in the waiting room because it would have been noticable.
So he pulled his phone out.
It was times like these you can be thankful for location sharing. It's gotten him out of many a scuffle before—like when he lost you and Hyunjin in Japan.
He found you both in a toy store, trying to buy almost all of their stock.
Looking now, it read that you were in the building, but not the one he was in, the one he left.
Huh?
Wouldn't he have seen you if you were in the company building?
He shook it off before breaking out into a sprint, back across the street.
He checks all the usual spots: the studio but the boys hadn't seen you today. The cafeteria but it was empty. You weren't even lurking in the dance practice room.
In a hour, you had gone completely MIA. No texts as to where you had gone. No rideshare notifications at the top since he always paid. There wasn't even a silly picture that you'd send when you were bored.
You couldn't have gotten far, you had been talking about pain all morning. He knew wherever you were, you found a way to be horizontal.
A few heart palpitations later and he was getting a phone call.
Not from you though but his manager.
"Hello?"
"You might want to get upstairs to the 8th floor. They found your girlfriend."
When he did find you, it was way worse than expected.
From the hallway, looking into the cracked door, it’s as if you’re getting reprimanded. Fingers are pointed at you like you’re the problem, loud voices pressing you for answers of what you were doing there.
He came in right in time.
"What's going on? What are you saying to her?" His tone is sharp immediately.
"She's not supposed to be sleeping in a studio and if she's not with you without a visitor's pass, she's trespassing."
He's not wrong, but doesn't give him the right to get buck.
Chris doesn't even lock eyes with him, he just helps you up and muttered that it won't happen again, all with a frown on his face.
It's very loud once you get in the car, it's staring you in the face. You know he's not mad at you but that doesn't worry you any less.
The drive is cold. No music is playing, the air isn't on, and neither one of you open your mouth.
You don't speak until you get home.
"Do you want me to ask or is it confidential?"
He just huffs.
"I can't stay, I gotta work." His voice is no louder than a grumble, he doesn't want to say the words. There's a reluctance. He wouldn't be doing this if he didn't have to.
Now it's your turn to grin and bare it.
There was no other option anymore.
THE FOURTH TIME; NO CHICKEN COMPREHENSION
It's been a few weeks since the last time you two had a night together. By now, you were supposed to be buzzing with excitement about being new parents.
Now most nights, you find yourself wondering if this baby was even going to have two.
You got texts every so often, short phone calls if you were lucky.
The pit in your stomach feels like it's swallowing the baby.
It's the only thing you hear in the night, the silent struggle that you know you're imagining but can't talk yourself off the ledge.
There's only one voice in the empty space now.
The worry.
Some days you don't even leave the bed; there's not much need to. Besides to get more fruit and go to the bathroom.
You don't even notice the days pass by, every one the same as the last.
Wake up, pee, get your food, and then return to your spot to watch the same slop over and over again. You don't even process it anymore, you just want it to be over. To be over the line and on the other side of this.
That's the only thing you're holding onto, the only thing keeping you sane.
But then, out of the blue, in the middle of your 5 hour of bed-rotting, you got a phone call, one that gave you some hope.
They would be finished a little earlier than expected, the boys could be home tonight like they wanted. Which meant if you wanted to have dinner with your boyfriend tonight, you absolutely could.
And not only that but he wanted to cook for you.
Heaven had opened the gates and finally welcomed you in.
You'd jump for joy if you could get high enough.
All you had to do was get the chicken out of the freezer for the dish he was planning to make you.
There was a new recipe, something new to shove down because it apparently was really good for the baby.
You didn't care, the idea of not being alone in darkness was enough for you to get up and actually take stake at the mess around you.
Tissues from the weird stuffy nose you had these past few days, pairs upon pairs of pants painting the floor from who knows what, and unlimited bottles of water that appeared when you flipped over your blanket.
It was like you had new glasses, messes were everywhere you looked and for some reason, they had gone untouched.
You didn't even realize.
Checking your calendar, it said the baby was due any day now.
You didn't know that.
How had such a big chunk of time just evaporate from your memory? How come you couldn't remember anything recent before today?
Was your pregnancy brain that bad?
You vow not to think about it and continue cleaning to get your mind off of it.
୨ৎ
The apartment was dirtier than suspected. You find yourself knee-deep in a problem you caused yourself, only wishing you locked in a little quicker.
As soon as you're done, the clock reads 7 o'clock.
Once again you wasted your day and this one you didn't even care to remember.
It just needed to be done.
You plopped down on a freshly clean couch, and just sat there. You didn't move to turn anything on, you don't grab your phone for easy juvenile media, you just shamefully bore into the void.
Your daze is broken when you hear the door open. It's foreign to your ears.
"I'm home!" His voice rings out into the space like a song, light and airy, all the things gone from his absence.
In the past, you'd sprint to the door in excitement, he'd twirl you like he had just come back from war because that's what it felt like without you. You'd tell him about your day and he'd gush about the music they were working on, back when it didn't feel so forced.
His glee was still apparent, you just couldn't fake it much anymore.
"I missed you." He's quick to meet you on the couch once he dropped all of his possessions to the floor in exchange for you.
Hands came up to cradle your cheeks, pulling you in to kiss your forehead—a gesture that now feels heavy on top of everything else.
"What did you do all day?"
"I cleaned. Then cleaned a little more." There's a lull as you sniffle quickly. "It was way dirtier before you got here."
It's not promising or pretty. It doesn't even sound like you.
The decay isn't even small anymore, it was a loud alarm, ringing in the ears of everyone who could hear.
There was no more time to Google, now was the time to be proactive.
But first—
"Did you pull out the chicken?"
His mind going a mile a minute, it wanders into the kitchen and notices how clean it looks. Almost too clean.
Your eyes are blown wide, you had been doing so much, you forgot the one thing you were supposed to do.
"Shit. I forgot."
It was something small, you could have done it two seconds in the midst of the cleaning. But you got distracted, that's all you were these days, forgetting and forgetting, and not getting any of it back.
This baby was sucking the life out of you and you hated that you were mad—especially when you knew she wasn't doing it on purpose.
Tears burn hot and fast going down your face. You don't try to hide it. Worse comes to worst, you could just blame on the hormones.
"Hey, what happened? No."
He uses the pads of his thumbs to wipe them away but you push him off, turning your head in the other direction.
"Y/n, you have to tell me what's wrong so we can fix it." He reached out, hoping to catch your shoulder but you're already moving to stand up.
"I have to pee."
He doesn't get much out of you that night. You're still in your head, and that mess wasn't as easy to get through in a day.
He does end up ordering food instead of making it, a place close by that you both like. You don't speak as you eat either, he just sits next to you, watching a movie silently.
It's enough.
For a little bit.
But you could only hold it in for so long.
THE ONE TIME; THE PANIC PLACE
The second you opened your eyes, something felt wrong.
You had felt a faint kiss on your cheek when the sun came up. You heard Chris mutter something about seeing you later but you couldn't count on it, not while half-dead.
You don't fully wake up till a few hours later, when the sun is already on its way across the sky.
You don't lay as long as you want to, you do something about it. You pretend like you're feeling normal; brushing your teeth, fixing your hair, and changing your clothes.
For the most part, it's managable.
You make breakfast and doom-scroll, you stare at the sky like it's the first time. You watch as the colors turn from dull blues to bright oranges and pinks.
You're numb as you stare in awe, the good kind.
Wind hits your face through the open window, bringing all the fresh air in, breaking down the snot that had been bothering you and letting your worries dissolve.
You can stand up without feeling needles between your toes.
You can breathe and it's not heavy.
You can believe someone's coming home just because they say it.
But then the breeze is gone. The sun finally rests and the colors burn out into ash. The sky's dark and the streetlights come on, bombarding your vision.
The blinds are shut once again to wrap you in the darkness.
Although the darkness isn't as homely as it's been. It's not a blanket protecting you from the cold, it's thick black ooze rising higher and higher, filling your lungs and cutting off your air.
Being alone isn't as easy it was before, now there's another body to care for, another life you could ruin, someone else who was looking up to you to tell them right from wrong.
What if you messed up?
What if you fucked her up before she even made it to her first birthday? If you were a bad mom, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself.
You're gasping before you discern what's going on, clutching your chest as if it's going to make it better, trying to describe your surroundings before you get too far.
It's too late, you're huffing and puffing.
Your vision is blurring and the only thing you can make out is your phone.
୨ৎ
It felt he was on the same part all day, and Hyunjin was unrelenting.
Once he finished this part, it was home free. The break finally started and the baby was due any day now. And going home would make it easier to find out what's wrong with you before it's too late.
If only Hyunjin wasn't such a perfectionist when it came to his craft.
It was sweet any other time, a little stressful at the moment.
"Do you mind if we do it one more time?" He inquired once again.
And it was met with a nod. Because he wanted Hyunjin to be happy with the take they used. Then they could all be happy.
He's about to rerecord when his phone rings.
Generally, phones are supposed to be on silent since this was an active recording area. But that rule kind of flew out the window when you had a pregnant girlfriend at home who was about to pop any second.
And to no one's surprise, your name painted the screen.
He answered immediately.
"Hey. I should be home in a hour, I promise. I'll bring food. Do you want something special?"
Silence, the only thing coherent was the crackle of his phone speaker.
Maybe a butt dial. He doesn't think twice when the line goes dead and he sees his wallpaper again.
He continues on with Hyunjin, he doesn't stop until he sounds completely perfect and there's nothing else to tweak.
Everyone lets out a silent cheer, it's like summer all over.
He was packing up his bag when the phone's ringing again.
"Baby? Did you mean to call me?"
There's rustling on your end, perhaps you're moving your phone around to look for it. He's about to hang up when he hears something else: your breathing or at least the lack of it, it's labored, quick and low. It's faint but it's there.
He'd recognize it anywhere.
"Y/n? Babygirl."
You're hyperventilating, your words are jumbled and not coming out right. You cannot even form a proper thought.
All he could make out was, "can't breathe."
He doesn't need to hear anything else before there's a puff cloud the size of Australia in his spot.
The JYP building is gone in a mist, far behind Chan as he raced down the street like The Rock in The Game Plan. He had drove in but that didn't matter, he would have fiddled with the keys too much, it could have taken too long to start.
And time wasn't on his side right now.
Thanks to all the dancing, he's spent once he makes it to the apartment, and yet, he continues on, marching up the stairs with purpose, adrenaline doing most of the work.
The door broke open with a crack like it was locked. He didn't notice, you were more important.
He called your name out, no answer.
So he listens, it's quiet in the apartment for once. None of that mind-numbing tv you claimed that only the baby liked. No faint music that you listened to to calm down. He couldn't even hear your silly TikToks.
Just the faint sound of sniffles coming from the bedroom.
He wasn't fully prepared for what state he was going to find you in but you needed help and that was fuel to move.
You're sitting on the bed, hand clinging to your chest like you're trying to get your lungs to work again. You're trained on the blanket, hoping and praying that it ends, even just for a second.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks stubbornly.
You didn't even hear the door open.
You could tell from the way you flinched when he sat down in front of you. "Hey." He speaks soft, not too booming as if not to scare you. "You're safe, honey, I'm here."
"I shouldn't be pregnant with this baby." It's choked out. His hand lands on top of yours to ground you. He doesn't squeeze, just lets you know he's listening. "I'm not strong enough."
"What? Who said you weren't strong enough?"
"Me! I did. I can't do this alone."
"Since when are you raising this baby alone?"
You sniffled, bring your joined hands to wipe it away. You're still trying to calm your breathing and the snot isn't helping. He flipped around to sit beside you, taking his hand off of yours to place on your back, rubbing calming circles.
"I feel like you're a ghost. Is this how it's going to be when I give birth? I'm going to have to balance nursing with raising a child? I can only do so much by myself."
"You're not doing it by yourself, I'm home now. I can officially take my break today."
"But what's after the break, Chris? Then we'll have to get a nanny who will raise her while we're off living our dreams? That's not fair to her or me who's wanted this — to be a mom forever."
"Do you think I'm not going to fight for us?"
You finally look up at him and his eyes are as glassy as yours. Your pain is shared, you're not the only one freaked out.
To be fair, it's his first kid too.
"You're not the only one who's wanted this kid forever. I refuse to let you do any of this by yourself. She's our kid. I am just a part of this as you are. I think I contributed some on that couch."
A pause as he waits for you to give him a laugh.
"In fact, some of me is still at the scene of the crime."
That's when you snort, just a little to make your breathing slow down to normal.
"You're so nasty."
"You better get used to it, sweetheart, because I'm not going anywhere. I don't care what I have to do, we are raising this baby together. I'll renegotiate my contract. We're in this together. Promise."
He kissed your forehead, pulling you into his body.
"Give me your troubles, don't handle it alone. You need a pillow to scream into? Let it be me."
And so you do.
You tell him how bad you don't want to mess up, how scared you are for her but how excited you are to meet what a mixture of you two would be.
He shares your fear, he's just as terrified as you are. But he was being strong, for the both of you.
No one knows how parent immediately, it is something you have to learn on the fly. You saw it firsthand; kids do the craziest stuff and you just have to roll with it.
You're allowed to not know what to do.
You just have to understand as you go.
Explaining your dread did make it lighter, it felt nice someone giving you a hand.
Maybe you should have told him earlier.
Better late than never.
You two spend the night just talking about everything, all the things that built up, finally out in the open.
It reminded you of how much you actually missed him.
You don't have to handle it solo.
The next few weeks, her furniture finally comes in the mail.
You pretend like you're going to help but you just watch Chris put everything together with a devilish smirk on your face.
You have a room set up just in time for when she comes.
She's born into a blue room for a girl because he wanted the room to be wolf-themed. You don't stop him, you just add a few pink things here and there for the fantasy.
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