#yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now is hands down the best thing ive ever read

[inventedfangirling]

bad buddy textposts part 3✨

[chocosvt]

a moon without stars universe.

⚬ pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader. ⚬ word count: 2220. ⚬ warnings: none. ⚬ genre: FLUFF!!! enough to swim in it.

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo is inexplicably anxious to see his baby for the first time, so much in fact that he senses he might faint.

✧✎ a/n: you scoundrels got me... you MADE ME SUCUMB and this is the product. just in case you’re unaware, this is a follow up to a gigantic wonwoo fic i wrote almost two years ago (you can read it here), so consequently, some parts to this might seem confusing if you haven’t read the original fic!

Wonwoo feels like he’s going to be sick.

No—even worse than that, Wonwoo feels like his knees are going to collapse and that he’ll black out in an anxiety overload on the hospital floor. At least he’s at the hospital, but in his complete honesty, that doesn’t assure him to any notable extent. There’s a wail from the other side of the wall, taunt with pain and determination. He can hear the muffled encouragements from the doctors, urging you as best they can even though it’s been over an hour and you’re utterly spent. 

He presses his hand against the door whilst his head leans down, taking in a deep breath that attempts to draw some sense of harmony into his core. Wonwoo had walked in and out of the labour room at least three times. There were so many emotions, memories, and stupidly poignant decisions shaking his skull. One moment he’s right next to you, your fingers crushing the bones in his hand as a contraction seizes you and the sweat glimmers down the side of your face.

Then another moment passes, and Wonwoo is overwhelmed with self-hatred. He closes his eyes and relives the day in which he abandoned you in your apartment complex, the thought of becoming a father, a parent, when he is merely so young and unaware of his purpose in the universe too much for him to compute. On that day, he walked away from you when you needed his support most. Wonwoo would never be able to forgive himself for his selfishness.

It takes a hold of him like a terrible virus, and then he can’t bear to be in the room any longer, prompting him to pace back and forth in the corridor whilst his anxiety bubbles and festers.

Suddenly, the door he’s leaning against clicks open slightly and Wonwoo stumbles. There’s a nurse facing him, and she smiles at him tenderly.

“She’s almost there,” the nurse tells him, “do you want to try coming back in?”

His expression is paler than moonlight and his eyes are incredibly wide. Wonwoo’s heart densely whacks against his ribcage as though it’s trying to break free from his own chest. He swallows dryly, though he indefinitely nods because there is no way in hell that he’ll miss the birth of his own child. With slow steps, Wonwoo approaches the bed and takes a seat in the stool next to it. He can see that your strength is slipping out from under you like a silk sheet.

You breathe so heavily, in intermittent tatters, whilst the glossy curves and slopes of your face can hardly afford to contort. The doctors are still encouraging you, promising that if you put your all into this next push, the labour will at long last end. Wonwoo reaches for your hand. It’s shivering, clammy, though he doesn’t care, just strokes between the ridges of your knuckles and stares into your pretty, exhausted face. He develops a new appreciation for you in that moment.

Everything you endure, you endure to bring life into this world. A life in which he helped kindle. 

Your head turns meekly to look at him. There’s a fuzziness in your eyes, and he can tell you nearly want to give up and just let yourself fall. Wonwoo squeezes your hand, he squeezes it tight and wishes that more than anything he could take away your pain and tiredness. Since the day he first met you, there was a timid nature about you, but he knew there was also a vivacious fire that could bloom like the golden flares of the sun. He smiles at you and chuckles softly.

“Aren’t you nearly there? It’s not the time for a nap.”

There’s a tiny spark that immediately ignites in your eyes.

“Sh-shut… Shut up, Jeon Wonwoo…” You manage to string the words together and he feels your hand tighten around his with a dull pressure.

“Wouldn’t you like to make me?” He teases, knowing that it’ll uproot some of your energy.

The doctor concentrating at the end of the bed urges you one last time to push with all your might, and for a fleeting moment, Wonwoo reads the fear that paralyzes your expression. Maybe you think you’re not capable, but he is aware firsthand the falsity of your doubt. Wonwoo has never seen someone as capable as you. He raises his other hand and brushes away the damp hairs that are flush to your temples, your skin incredibly searing to his gentle touch.

You look at him again, panting deeply, and Wonwoo knows he needs to say something that will ease or replace your insecurity.

“Remember that time we were sitting in the garden together, after you made me go outside so I could look at your dumb hibiscus plant?” Wonwoo murmurs, watching you nod. “And you told me about how you always wanted to take your children to look at all the flowers there?”

You gulp dryly and bob your head again.

“Well, just think. Once this is all over, you have the opportunity to do that. We can go to the garden as many times as you want, whenever you want, even if it’s every day. I promise. But we can’t exactly do that if you don’t have this baby, right?”

“R-Right,” you stutter, your eyes shining and glossy, “I n-need to have the b-baby.”

“Yes, sweetheart, our baby, you need to have our baby. But you have to push, okay? You really have to try it.” 

“I n-need to push,” your ironclad grip was returning to his hand, “I re-really need to push. Then we can s-see our baby.”

Wonwoo smiles at you like you’re the most magnificent jewel in the world. 

“Why don’t we count down from three, okay?”

Everyone in the room seems to collectively agree that it’s a good idea. Wonwoo knows you’re scared, he knows you’re inconceivably frightened and somewhat petrified of what the future has in store for you. He’s scared too. You’re two young parents who have yet to finish college, and everything about your relationship seemed to happen so suddenly. But, below his anxiety, the way his heart is drumming so loud in his ears it’s deafening, Wonwoo discovers his purpose.

She comes into the world with a high-pitched, nasally cry. Her fingers are the smallest he’s ever seen in his life, and he just sees them wave in the cold air before the doctor turns around and there’s a crowd congregated in the corner of the room. Wonwoo can hardly breathe or move or think one coherent thought. It’s not until you softly pull on his arm that his emotions come crashing down. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and yet you look so sweet and blissful. 

Wonwoo quickly wipes away the tear that slides down his cheek just before he leans over the bed and kisses your forehead.

His purpose—to take care of you and his newborn baby girl, is the only thing he could ever care about in that moment.

“We’re not naming her, Airplane. Are you joking?”

“Well that’s what I called her when she was in the womb!”

“So you want to put that on a birth certificate? Airplane? I know you’re exhausted but I can’t even begin to express how bad of an idea that is.”

Wonwoo lies beside you in the hospital bed, the newborn wrapped in a pastel pink blanket, a small white cap, and cocooned dearly against your chest. Neither you or Wonwoo have stopped staring at her since the nurse placed her in your hold. Her eyes are closed, and she balls her hands in tiny fists. Her nose is merely the size of a button. Together, you were attempting to scheme some names, but Wonwoo notes that you were impenetrably stuck on Airplane. 

You sigh. “We don’t have to think of it now, alright? Let’s just keep admiring her.”

He leans his head against yours, and continues to gaze warmly at the baby wrapped in her adorable pink cloth. His heart feels so content, so incredibly tender and swollen with love. She mirrors an unprecedented flower that has yet to be tainted by the surrounding cruelty of life, just an innocent petal whose beauty could never be articulated, as it would almost ruin such precious ambiguity. But then Wonwoo starts to fill with this horrible, sickening feeling.

What if he walked out that day and never came back?

What if he walked out and never got to experience this incredible fulfillment? To never see her, to never touch her or care for her, watch her grow and stumble and become the thing he was most proud of in the universe. The self-hatred snarls in his gut and he becomes tense.

You nudge him concerningly.

 “Is everything alright?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Just… What if I... What if I never—” He wasn’t sure how to express his complex frustration. The words deflate helplessly on his tongue.

Somehow, you seem to know what he was feeling, even without the words being painted for you, it’s clear to see that Wonwoo struggles to relieve himself of the ache in his heart, in which he turned his back on you that day in your apartment. You understand that he feels undeserving, but what he hadn’t acknowledged was that he never had the intention of giving up. Even if he wasn’t with you in those beginning stages, he was keeping busy, learning how to improve himself for you.

For your child. 

You press a kiss to his jaw, and then to his pink lips. Wonwoo’s hand softly cups the side of your face, deepening the contact with an intimate, loving passion.

“There’s no need to dwell over what could have been,” you whisper to him, staring into his dark, copper eyes. They glitter slightly as you grin and propose, “Why don’t you hold her? I promise you’ll feel better.”

With extreme care, Wonwoo helps take the baby from your arms, his heart pounding relentlessly as he settles back against the thick pillow and attempts to relax with her new weight against his chest. His gulp is audible, heavy with nervousness as he peers down at her delicate, miniscule frame, afraid that even the tiniest exerted force will hurt her. From his peripheral vision he sees you stifle a giggle. She squirms slightly in his arms and Wonwoo begins panicking.

“Oh my god oh my god, she’s waking up, what should I do?”

“Just relax,” you croon to him, resting your chin on his strong shoulder, “she’s probably waking up because your nerves are crowding up the whole damn room.”

“That’s not funny,” Wonwoo pouts, unable to peel his gaze from her sweet face.

You roll your eyes. “As long as you’re gentle everything will be fine.”

Wonwoo is being as gentle as he possibly can. Eventually, his rigidity starts to subside and he feels more comfortable with handling her. She’s sleeping soundly against his firm chest, though the nurse had warned him she would want to feed soon, and that there was a lactation consultant available to help them. Her little hands rising and falling with his chest make his heart flutter. When he looks to his shoulder, he realizes you’re fast asleep as well. 

Which was no surprise to him. He figures childbirth is quite draining.

His appreciation and reverence for you has swelled to such an inconceivable state.

As time continues to progress, Wonwoo finds that he’s also growing sleepy. Ever since your labour began almost eighteen hours ago, he’s felt absolutely wired, restless, unable to even stand in a single spot without uncontrollably jittering. Now his eyes are heavy with the desire to dream. Just as feels himself fading, his consciousness sinking into a black, lulling abyss, there’s a hiccupping cry at his chest and he’s unforgivingly dragged out of his nap. 

But Wonwoo can only smile.

He pushes himself up groggily, careful not to bump you, and cradles his baby with the utmost preciousness, kissing the small, warm expanse of her forehead as her cries echo through the hospital room. Her eyes flutter open, though he supposes she is far too young to decipher much but his bleary, fuzzy outline.

“Hello sweetheart,” he hums quietly, watching her small hands attempt to reach out for him. He stretches out his index finger for her to experimentally squeeze and pinch. 

“I guess you’re hungry, darling. I hate to wake up your mother, but I don’t think I have much choice, do I?”

No—Wonwoo doesn’t know what would become of him if he left your apartment and made the decision to never see you again, to completely cut you from his life because he was so fearful of embracing this new chapter. To continue mundanely living, working at the piercing shop and the mechanic’s garage, always having to wonder about his own child, having to wonder about you and how you were supporting her. But now he would never have to suffer in lack of closure, as you were right next to him, your daughter safe in his arms.

Wonwoo knows he is going to live a very beautiful life.

One that he will never look back on.

✧✎ a/n: even though i can hardly reread a.m.w.s without lowkey despising my old writing, i feel like this was long overdue. i have literally never written childbirth before nor do i know SHIT about babies so i was just like.... Okay lol... also, i didn’t have them name the child bc i didn’t have a name for her either? i was thinking lily or something bc the reader is a florist. but i wasn’t sure. so you can name their daughter whatever tf you want hehe.