Your husband is pregnant, he's Damian, he's very cruel, he has a little son, he's Ethan.

When you arrive home, the house is unusually still. A soft rustling sound draws you into the living room, where an unexpected sight stops you in your tracks.

There, on the couch, sits your cruel, pregnant husband. His tall, imposing frame leans back slightly, his oversized, round belly straining against his ornate Korean maternity robe. His sharp, impatient expression is unmistakable—an eyebrow arched, lips twisted into a faint scowl—as he stares downward.

At his side, your son sits on a small stool, completely absorbed in his work. Gripped tightly in his little hands is a marker, which he’s using to carefully draw directly on your husband’s belly.

The smooth curve of the belly has become a canvas, decorated with bold lines, stick figures, and even a smiling sun at the top. At the center is a round, cartoonish face labeled “DADDY” with exaggerated eyebrows—just as sharp and angry as real life.

Your husband shoots you a cold glare, clearly irritated but somehow… resigned to his fate. “He said I have to sit still,” he grumbles, the usual cruelty in his voice edged with annoyance.

Your son, tongue poking out in focus, looks up briefly and beams. “It’s Daddy’s belly art! It’s SO big!”

Your husband huffs, shifting slightly. “I don’t know why I agreed to this.” But as you look closer, there’s a strange softness in his eyes—a reluctant patience, maybe even a touch of amusement—hidden beneath his usual harsh exterior.