"I'm gonna make an absolute feast," I announced, gripping the shopping cart handle and pushing forward into the fluorescent-lit produce section.
The wheels squeaked lightly against the polished tile floor, echoing through the mostly empty aisle. "I swear, I'm cooking so much food that you three are gonna be suffering under leftovers for weeks."
Elara chuckled, that deep low laugh that always vibrated in my ribs, while Bella placed her chin on my shoulder from behind, hugging herself around my waist as we moved. Her hair smelled like coconut body spray—sweet, heavy, and comforting.
I stopped at the first display and started grabbing ingredients: crisp heads of romaine, bright cucumbers with condensation beading on their skins, a bag of cherry tomatoes I rolled in my hands to check firmness. The cold air from the fridge cases brushed across my face, waking me up more than the coffee had earlier.
As I reached for a bundle of parsley, Bella suddenly asked, voice soft but sincere,
"Why don't you eat more, Noah?"
I froze. Elara, who had been scanning through a rack of peppers, glanced over immediately. The brightness of the produce aisle felt painfully sharp for a moment, lights glaring off the white floor.
"Oh, Bella..." I exhaled, almost laughing at how innocent she sounded. I placed the tomatoes gently into the cart and wiped my palms on my thighs.
Coming into this world had changed me physically, mentally, emotionally—everything. My strength, my biology, my role in society... all rewritten the moment I woke up here. But my mindset? My libido? Those stayed.
"Men gain weight easier," I murmured, keeping my eyes on the cart. "And... I don't think you guys would like me very much if I gained weight."
The silence that followed wasn't just silence.
It was heavy.
Like the air got thicker and the blood in my veins slowed.
Elara's footsteps approached quietly, and then her hand slid around the back of my neck, fingers threading gently into my hair. She tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet her eyes—dark, intense, protective.
"Noah," she said, voice low and unwavering, "I would love you no matter what. If you gained weight, if you changed, if you lost every muscle in your body—I don't care. I'm here for you. Not your size."
Her thumb brushed my cheek, and I swear my chest caved in on itself. My throat tightened, vision blurring slightly from the unexpected warmth rising behind my eyes.
Before I could breathe, Bella stepped forward, sliding her hands to my waist and pulling me closer.
"Yeah," she said softly, eyes glistening even though she tried to smirk, "you could weigh four hundred pounds and I'd still fight every girl on the planet for you."
My breath caught.
God, I didn't deserve either of them.
On instinct, I reached up and kissed Elara first—slow and desperate, fingers fisting the fabric of her shirt as she leaned down into me. Her scent was sandalwood and sweat and something uniquely her, grounding me completely. When we broke apart, I barely had time to inhale before Bella grabbed my face and kissed me too—warm, sweet, tasting faintly of cool mint gum.
When we finally parted, all three of us were breathing unevenly, our foreheads nearly touching.
"Okay," I whispered with a shaky laugh, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "Enough kissing. If we keep going we're getting banned from this store."
Both girls laughed softly, eyes still glued to me with that fierce, overwhelming love that made my knees weak.
I pushed the cart forward again, hands steady now, breath lighter, heart full.
Pushing the cart over to the canned and boxed goods aisle, I slowed down, scanning over rows of brightly colored packages stacked like soldiers. Stuffing boxes towered in front of me—cornbread, herb-seasoned, gluten-free, sage, apple-cranberry... there were so many variations it almost hurt to look at them.
I dragged my fingers across the boxes until I found the most expensive brand, packaged in a sleek matte black box with gold lettering. Fancy. It better taste like it costs three times the others.
I grabbed two boxes and tossed them into the cart, the cardboard thudding softly against the metal frame.
"If it's expensive it's gotta be good, right?" I muttered, half to myself. Then I shrugged. Meh, whatever. If it ends up tasting like trash I'll just donate it to someone else.
Behind me, Bella and Elara were messing around—Bella balancing a box of instant mashed potatoes on her head while Elara pretended to coach her like a gymnastics trainer.
"Keep your balance, rookie, you drop that and you're doing twenty suicides," Elara teased.
"Shut uuuuup," Bella groaned dramatically, wobbling before catching the box with both hands. Their laughter echoed softly down the aisle, warm and vibrant, grounding me.
I turned back, scanning the shelves one more time. "You guys don't care for cranberry sauce, right?" I asked, picking up a can and rolling it in my palms.
Bella paused mid-laugh. "Actually... my mom likes it a lot," she said, voice softening slightly.
"Right." I smiled and gently placed a can into the cart. "Then that's all that matters." Even if Liz was the only one eating it, I wanted her to feel taken care of too.
I stood still for a moment, cart handle in my hands, trying to mentally map what else we needed. My mind fell completely blank.
"I should've written it down... stupid me," I muttered under my breath, tapping my forehead lightly in frustration.
Footsteps approached behind me and Elara's hand slid over my shoulder, warm and steady. She leaned down, her voice low in my ear.
"Hey... you know it doesn't have to be a perfectly traditional Thanksgiving, right?" she murmured. "You don't have to pressure yourself to make some perfect textbook meal. Just go wild, baby. Make us so full we'll feel it for a month."
I swallowed, heat rising in my chest. She always knew exactly what to say. Always.
Her hand gently squeezed my shoulder, thumb brushing the back of my neck. I turned to look up at her and she gave me that look—half proud, half in love, all dangerous.
I smiled, small but real. “Gosh... I don't deserve you," I whispered.
Elara rolled her eyes playfully and flicked my cheek. "Oh shut up. You deserve everything."
Bella trotted over and lightly bumped her hip against mine. "You really do" she said, eyes bright.
"I love you guys too much," I said quietly, still smiling to myself as I turned back toward the shelves. I resumed mentally sorting through the foods we already had stocked at home.
"Potatoes are at home... corn is at home... I can make the gravy as well... and the rest, well—I'll just freestyle it." I murmured softly, half to myself, half to the universe.
Behind me, Bella and Elara immediately fell back into goofing around, Bella holding up a can of yams like a microphone while Elara pretended like she was in a wrestling match. Their laughter echoed down the aisle and warmed something deep in me.
Pushing the cart forward, I headed into the meat section. Cold air spilled over my skin, prickling goosebumps up my arms. In massive glass fridges lay rows and rows of steaks, ribs, and whole chickens—Bella and Elara both stopped dead like they'd just stumbled into heaven itself.
Bella pressed her hands to the glass dramatically, "Look at that ribeye... holy shit..."
Elara tilted her head, eyes locked on a marbled tomahawk steak like it owed her money. "God that's beautiful," she muttered.
Meanwhile, my hands wandered toward a Butterball turkey, instinct guiding them like I was reaching for a friend. I picked it up—not heavy but awkward—and set it in the cart.
Instantly, Elara's hand clamped onto the edge of the cart and shoved the turkey right back onto the shelf. Hard.
"Woah, woah, no, we're not doing that," she said sharply, eyes wide with urgency.
I blinked at her. "...What? It's a Thanksgiving turkey."
Elara leaned in close like she was about to tell me a government-classified secret. Bella looked over curiously.
Elara lowered her voice to a whisper, checking over both shoulders:
"Haven't you heard, Noah? The videos of women... cumming inside the turkeys?"
She shuddered. Bella made a face so disgusted she almost gagged.
"Oh gods," Elara added, voice strained like the memory pained her physically. "They use the stuffing holes and everything. It's like a cult trend now. Never the pre-made ones again."
I stared blankly, processing that horror.
Then my face scrunched.
"...Why would you ever say that in public?"
Bella slapped her hands over her ears, shaking her head rapidly. "Do NOT put that image in his brain, Elara—he's making our food! What is WRONG with you!?"
"I was protecting us!" Elara retorted defensively. "We need a fresh turkey, one straight from the butcher. One that hasn't been..." She gestured vaguely and gagged.
I sighed, defeated. "Well now I don't even want to touch any of them."
"Exactly." Elara grabbed the cart and steered it away from the Butterballs like they were radioactive. "We're getting a fresh one. Noah deserves to make something pure."
Bella nodded sagely.
"Yeah... I don't want my Thanksgiving themed around trauma."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I hate this world so much sometimes."
Elara wrapped an arm around me from behind, pulling me into her chest for a moment as we walked.
"We'll cleanse your brain with ice cream after this," she whispered. Bella leaned close on the other side. "And donuts... definitely donuts."
Their warmth pressed against me, their presence solid and real. My heart lightened again despite the cursed information now permanently stored in my brain.
"Fine," I sighed. "But you're both telling me if something worse exists so I can prepare emotionally."
They looked at each other. Both went silent.
Too silent.
"...there's more?" I asked, horrified.
Elara patted my head like a puppy. "Baby, let's focus on groceries."
"You didn't have to go all out for Thanksgiving, Noah," Liz said from across the table. The dim amber glow from the chandelier softened the room, the fireplace crackled behind us, filling the air with that smoky, comforting scent of burning oak.
The table was packed—steaming dishes crowding every inch of space: golden roasted turkey glistening with butter, bowls stacked with creamy garlic mashed potatoes, thick gravy simmering in a ceramic dish, perfectly toasted garlic bread, roasted vegetables arranged like art, and the cranberry sauce Liz loved resting beside the centerpiece.
It looked like something out of a movie—except very real, very warm, and very us.
"I had to," I replied, wiping my hands on a folded cloth napkin. "Plus, I'm feeding your daughter. She eats like a black hole." I tilted my head toward Bella.
Bella was practically vibrating in her chair, fork already raised like a weapon, pupils dilated as she stared down the plate in front of her—turkey stacked high, mashed potatoes fluffy with butter pooling at the top, and garlic bread glistening. She looked moments from committing a violent crime on her dinner.
"Don't destroy the plate, Bella..." Liz teased.
Bella paused only long enough to grin mischievously.
The bathroom door clicked and Elara walked back into the room, her hair still slightly damp from washing her hands, sliding into the seat beside me. She looked at the food like she'd been starving for weeks, eyes locked on the turkey with predatory hunger.
Before she could pick up her fork, Bella spoke up, turning to me with hopeful wide eyes.
"Can we do that thing where we say what we're grateful for?"
I exhaled gently, immediately softening. "I suppose so. You start, Bella."
Bella straightened dramatically like she was about to deliver a speech to Congress.
"I'm grateful for Noah," she began proudly. "My boyfriend Noah, my husband Noah, and food." She ended with a huge smile that made her nose scrunch slightly, and I couldn't help laughing.
Her gaze shifted to Liz.
Liz placed a hand over her heart. "I'm grateful for life... and for all of you being in it."
Then her eyes slid to Elara.
Elara smiled slowly, confidently, like she knew exactly the effect she had on me.
"I'm thankful for Noah. And for Noah. And also Noah. And I'm thankful for my husband Noah." She tightened her hold on my hand beneath the table, her thumb brushing over my knuckles in slow circles that sent warmth all the way up my chest.
My heartbeat stuttered.
I looked at each of them—three women who had become my entire world without even trying.
"Well," I said quietly, swallowing the emotion rising in my throat, "I'm grateful for all of you being in my life... and I'm most grateful for my future wives."
I reached out, squeezing Bella's hand on my left and Elara's on my right, grounding myself in the warmth of both of them.
Liz exhaled softly, something like admiration or relief crossing her face.
"Dig in, girls," I declared.
Bella didn't need to be told twice. She tore into her plate like she'd been starved for years, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk, eyes rolling back with bliss.
Elara ate more gracefully, but the hunger in her gaze was identical. Liz took her time, savoring every bite.
I just sat for a moment, watching all three of them—listening to the clink of silverware, the crackle of firewood, the muffled hum of warmth filling the house.
Everything was perfect like always.
Happy thanksgiving, hope all of you have a great time, see you guys soon and stay safe :)