#shxhdsstuff

[hazelira]

of henna and hakama

𝐤𝐢 ⋆ ｡ · ° ʚ 🐆 ɞ ° ‧ ｡ ⋆ 𝐤𝐢

The garden smelled of cherry blossoms and jasmine. The soft wind whispered between the trees—some native to the coast of Tunisia, others carefully flown in from Japan. The setting sun kissed everything gold, and beneath it stood Y/N, draped in a rich red and gold lebsa tounsia, delicate henna curling across her hands like lace.

She stared at the arch where she and Riki would soon be wed. Two worlds tied in silk and spirit.

“You're doing that thing again,” came a familiar voice, calm and grounding. Riki appeared at her side, dressed in a formal black montsuki haori hakama, embroidered with his family crest. His hair was tied neatly, and his expression showed boyish nervousness despite his quiet poise.

“What thing?” she asked, brushing her fingers against his.

“That thing where you worry if everything’s going to go wrong when it’s already perfect.”

Y/N sighed. “I just don’t want either side to feel out of place.”

Riki gently pulled her aside, leading her down the olive tree path toward a small grove—half planted with sakura trees, half with jasmine and palm fronds. He pulled a paper from his sleeve and knelt.

“I was saving this for tonight,” he said in accented but clear Arabic, unfolding a handwritten letter. “But I want you to hear it now.”

He read slowly, reverently, pausing between each line:

"I was born on an island surrounded by quiet. You were born in a land where joy echoes like drums through the street. I used to think silence meant peace. Now, your laughter is what peace sounds like."

Y/N blinked fast. She laughed softly, covering her mouth.

“I memorized it too,” he added, switching to Japanese, this time reading the same lines in his native tongue. “Just in case your family needs translation.”

She kissed his forehead. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours,” he corrected with a smile. “Also… I learned dabke.”

“You what? You're so silly!” she laughed.

“I practiced with your cousin over video. I’m still bad. But I’ll try.”

of henna and blessings

The henna party was filled with colour, drums, women ululating, and incense swirling. Y/N sat with her hands outstretched, fingers adorned in darkening dye. She was surrounded by cousins and aunties, laughter flowing like honey.

Then, gasps rose. Riki stepped in.

It was not customary for the groom to attend, but he held a letter, not a grand gesture. He bowed slightly, carefully kneeling beside her and having a cloth so he didn’t ruin her wet henna. His presence hushed the room in curiosity.

“I just wanted to read something.”

Another note. This one is shorter.

"You’re beautiful when you speak your language and dance with your feet bare. When you call my name like it belongs in your mouth. I will learn every word, drumbeat, and step if it means standing beside you all my life."

Even the aunties were wiping their eyes now.

of kimonos and kaftans

The morning sun broke over a ksar in the Tunisian desert, its ancient arches now lined with sakura garlands. Guests arrived dressed in bright foutas, kaftans, and kimono. Riki’s family wore traditional Japanese wedding garments. Your father wore a jebba, and your mother and sisters draped in silk.

The ceremony began with a Shinto ritual, the san-san-kudo. Three cups, three sips each, sharing sake beneath the carved olivewood gate.

Then, the drums began. Tunisian mezuoed music echoed as the couple wore traditional Tunisian attire. Riki looked regal in his embroidered vest and sash, slightly unsure but smiling. Y/N's hand never left his.

Dancers spun. Family ululated. The air smelled of incense and jasmine water.

They exchanged vows in both languages—her in Arabic, him in Japanese, both soft-spoken but unshakably sure.

of two moons, one dance

The stars watched their first dance from high above.

The music began: a carefully mixed track of soft strings woven into the upbeat rhythm of Tunisian drums. They twirled, laughed, and stepped wrong and right. Riki tried a dabke step, and everyone cheered—especially when he stumbled and laughed through it.

“Let’s call it dabke-onna,” he joked, mixing the word with onna-odori, a Japanese dance. Y/N threw her head back, laughing.

Later, under a canopy of cherry blossoms and jasmine garlands, they stole away.

Riki pulled a box from beneath their table. Inside were dozens of tiny notes—some on rice paper, others in folded Arabic calligraphy.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Letters I wrote every week since we started planning. Every time I learned something new about your culture—or about you.”

You read the first:

"I tried kaak warka today. I thought it was too sweet. Then I had a second one. You win."

Another:

"Your mother calls me waldi now. It means 'my son,' right? I cried after I left your house that night."

Tears brimmed in her eyes. She looked at him, overcome.

She kissed his hand.

Then she pulled a letter from her sleeve and handed it to him.

On it, in hiragana and elegant Arabic calligraphy, was one phrase:

“My heart is your home.”

of the end.

Two traditions. One love. Forever woven in jasmine and cherry blossom.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @shxhdsstuff!! I did my best researching both cultures of Tunisian and Japanese. I tried my best. This is my birthday gift to you, I hope we'll meet each other soon! If it doesn't make sense I'll fix it up afterwards!!

[hazelira]

soft fists

Jay adjusted his hold on his daughter, resting her against his chest as he brushed another glance toward you. His mind was racing with instructions for the maids, the doctor’s report, and his silent worry for you—but the baby in his arms had other plans.

With a tiny grunt, her pudgy fist came up and thwack—landed softly on his jaw.

Jay froze, caught completely off guard. She made another frustrated noise; her round cheeks puffed out as if she were challenging him.

“What’s this now?” he muttered, his deep voice unusually soft. He looked down at her, meeting her wide, teary eyes.

She swung another little fist toward him, this time hitting his collarbone, before grunting again like she was trying to make a point.

“Are you picking a fight with me?” he asked, one brow arching. His cold exterior melted as he watched her, utterly unimpressed by his status as the most feared man in the city.

She squirmed, let out a dramatic sigh, and shoved one fist against his chest, her face scrunching up in what could only be described as baby-sized frustration.

Jay let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and unfamiliar. “You’re lucky you’re cute, my little snugglepot,” he said, his lips twitching into a small smile as he gently caught her tiny fist in his more significant hand.

She grumbled, her other hand coming up for another attack, but Jay expertly caught it, too, holding both her fists in his palms. “What is it now, huh? Didn’t I hold you? Didn’t I save you from those scary maids?”

Her response was a soft, indignant squeal as if to say, Not good enough.

Jay shook his head, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “You’re more demanding than half the executives in my company,” he muttered, adjusting her position so she sat more securely in his arm.

The baby responded by giving him a hard stare—as hard as a seven-month-old could muster—before letting out a deep sigh and leaning against him with a pout.

“Thought so,” he said softly, his voice carrying an affection he rarely let anyone hear. He kissed her chubby cheek, his expression softening even more when she gave a tiny hum of approval, her earlier grumpiness melting.

Jay glanced back at you, still unconscious but now receiving the doctor’s attention. His jaw tightened again, but the baby in his arms gave another little grunt, pulling him back to the present.

“You’re just like your mother,” he whispered, rocking her gently. “Stubborn. And always needing my attention.”

Despite his words, there wasn’t a hint of annoyance in his tone—only love.

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[hazelira]

fries & binkies

As Jungwon stepped into the kitchen, the sight of you bustling around while handling both babies greeted him. He could see Jung-woo in his booster high chair, squirming as he munched on his air-fried sweet potato fries. His little legs swung back and forth, and crumbs clung to his chubby cheeks and shirt.

On the other hand, Jung-ah was sitting patiently in her high chair, her binky bobbing softly in her mouth as she observed the scene with wide, curious eyes. She let out the occasional coo, her tiny hands resting on the tray as if waiting for her turn to eat.

You were at the counter, scooping sweet potato baby food into a small bowl for Jung-ah, moving quickly to accommodate their different needs.

As Jungwon moved closer, Jung-woo’s sharp eyes locked onto him. The toddler stopped squirming and leaned over his tray protectively, his tiny hands hovering over his remaining fries.

“No!” Jung-woo declared, puffing out his little chest as if preparing for a standoff. “Mine!”

Jungwon paused, his brow arching in mild amusement at the sudden defensiveness. “What’s yours?” he asked, his voice calm yet teasing.

Jung-woo pointed at his tray, his cheeks puffed out. “Fry! No, Dada!”

You turned your head just in time to catch the interaction, laughing softly. “Jungwon, I think he thinks you’re here to steal his fries.”

Jungwon smirked faintly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Do I look like I want his fries?”

Jung-woo didn’t back down, his chubby hands clutching the tray as though Jungwon might snatch the food at any second. “No touch!”

“Alright, alright,” Jungwon said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Keep your fries, boss.”

Jung-woo momentarily narrowed his eyes at him before returning to his snack, still visibly suspicious.

Shaking his head, Jungwon walked over to Jung-ah’s high chair. The baby girl looked up at him with her big, round eyes, her binky still in place as she gurgled softly. He gently ruffled her soft hair, earning a small coo.

“She’s much more cooperative than him,” Jungwon remarked, glancing over at Jung-woo, who was still guarding his tray like it was a treasure chest.

You handed Jung-ah’s bowl and spoon to Jungwon with a smile. “If you’re not stealing fries, maybe you can help feed her?”

Jungwon hesitated for a moment but took the bowl from you. “Fine,” he said, pulling up a chair beside Jung-ah.

The baby girl kicked her legs excitedly, her binky falling from her mouth as she reached for the spoon. Jungwon carefully scooped up a small amount of the sweet potato puree and brought it to her lips.

“Open,” he said softly, and Jung-ah obediently opened her mouth, happily accepting the bite.

As the scene unfolded, you couldn’t help but glance between them. “Look at that; your Dada’s got it under control,” you teased, earning a small scoff from Jungwon.

Meanwhile, Jung-woo continued to munch on his fries, side-eyeing Jungwon now and then to ensure his snack was safe.

“Our son has trust issues,” Jungwon muttered, shaking his head as he offered Jung-ah another spoonful.

You laughed, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “I wonder where he gets that from.”

Jungwon shot you a look, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he focused on feeding his daughter.

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[hazelira]

sneezy

Heeseung was pulled from his thoughts by a tiny, high-pitched “achoo!” followed by another in quick succession. He looked over just in time to see his baby girl scrunching up her face, her little nose now adorned with a bubble of snot that wobbled precariously.

He couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking his head. “Oh, precious, you’ve got a little situation there,” he said, reaching for the soft baby wipes on the nearby table.

The baby girl let out a giggle, clearly amused by the strange sensation on her nose. Her tiny hands flailed excitedly as she squealed, her giggles becoming a shriek of joy when Heeseung leaned in to wipe her nose.

“Hold still, you little wiggle worm,” he chuckled, carefully cleaning her up. “Can’t have you walking around like this, can we? Your mama would scold me if I left you like this.”

She cooed at him as if understanding, her big eyes sparkling with mischief. Once her nose was clean, Heeseung kissed her chubby cheek, erupting into another fit of giggles.

“All better now,” he murmured, gently tapping the tip of her tiny nose. He sat back, watching her settle down and chew on the soft toy he’d handed her earlier.

He glanced back at you, still peacefully sleeping, oblivious to the adorable chaos unfolding. Heeseung shook his head with a smile, his heart full. His daughter sneezed again; this time, he quickly caught it with the wipe, feeling like a pro.

“Guess you’re trying to keep me on my toes, huh?” he said, his voice warm. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ve got this. Dada’s not going anywhere.”

Heeseung watched as his baby girl’s pudgy little hands reached out toward the doggy again, her chubby fingers curling as she tried to grab its fur. She was so small, so delicate, with baby fat rounding out her cheeks and little arms. Every movement was a reminder of just how precious and fragile this time was.

His heart softened, and he leaned down to kiss her head, her soft baby hair tickling his lips. “Don’t grow up, sweetheart,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Please stay little, my sneezy squish.”

The words came out like a quiet prayer, and he couldn’t help but smile as she wriggled in his arms, continuing to reach for the doggy. Her baby chub made her look even more adorable.

Her tiny nose scrunched again, and another little “achoo!” escaped her. Heeseung chuckled, wiping her nose once more as she giggled, clearly enjoying the attention. She looked up at him with those big eyes, full of trust, love, and innocence.

“You’re my little sunshine,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to keep you this way forever. Just stay like this for a while longer. Let me enjoy this stage… before you grow too fast.”

Heeseung gently placed her back in the bouncy seat, ensuring she was comfortable and still safe, then stood up slowly. He couldn’t help but glance at you, still sleeping on the couch, your gentle, peaceful face illuminated by the soft morning light streaming through the window.

He could feel the weight of his love for both of you—how his heart seemed to beat faster just being around you, how everything in his life had changed unexpectedly. In the past, he never would’ve imagined himself so soft, so vulnerable, but now, with his little girl in his arms and you by his side, he felt a kind of warmth he had never known.

Heeseung watched his daughter for a moment longer, knowing this was a fleeting stage. The baby squirmed in the seat, her eyes still on the doggy as she let out another giggle.

“Stay little,” he whispered again as if the words could stop time. “You’re precious just like this.”

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[hazelira]

ENHYPEN Masterlists | Baby Masterlist

~ I write angst, comfort, fluff only!~

@luvilists | vent page | socials

my perm taglist<3 <- planning to make a 2nd one or separate per member

HEESEUNG

Waiting for a Dream

Eternal Moonlight | @bywons event

blue - keshi

Wrong Person, Right Time

Beneath the Cold

anchored in silence

the way we left it ft. Sunoo | @luvilists

cravings & regrets | requested

cursed to be unloved | requested

more than 143 | part 2 | requested

hbd fic for our seungie

JAY

Healing Hearts, Bringing Souls

drunk - keshi ft. members

rope to nowhere

the weight we share

quiet afternoons

only for you

respawned feelings

rain check | requested

hbd fic for @kireistrawberryjayla

hbd fic for our seongie

JAKE

The Girl Before The One

right here - keshi

in the eyes of a wallflower

one more day of you ft. members

frosted glass

when love feels like goodbye

butterfly blue | part 2 | requested

hbd fic for our jakey

SUNGHOON

Echoes of a Once Heartbeat

Soaring Skies & Hidden :)s - inspired by pau

like i need u - keshi

𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒 ft. Heeseung

second chances

in the quiet of your touch

yours, finally

enough | requested

hbd fic for our hoonie

SUNOO

After The One

I’m not cute! ft. members | @luvilists

atlas - keshi

memories of sunshine

𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔

the way we left it ft. Heeseung | @luvilists

Hard to Love | requested

crimson ft. Jungwon | @luvilists

the angel in the painting | requested

in every lifetime, it's you - inspired by evie

JUNGWON

Lost in the What Ifs

beside you - keshi

fragile embrace

fainted confessions

almost lovers, forgotten promises

never again | requested by anonymous

crimson ft. Sunoo | @luvilists

hbd fic for our wonie

NI-KI

Through the Storm

skeletons - keshi

花吐き病 -> hanahaki disease

healing wounds

at least, once

you left me in a future I built alone | hbd fic for @pinkglitterpuke

of henna and hakama | hbd fic for @shxhdsstuff

hbd fic for our riki

If you liked my stories, reblogging, liking and adding comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

©hazelira, all work is written by me, do not copy or repost or translate.

[hazelira]

promises

The baby stirred slightly in his arms, her tiny fingers twitching as her breathing evened out, soft and rhythmic. Sunoo’s gaze never left her, his sharp features softening as he watched her peaceful expression. She looked so fragile, so untouched by the harshness of the world he spent every day navigating.

A rare thought crept into his mind, making his chest ache in a way he didn’t quite understand: she would grow up so fast.

He could already picture the moments he didn’t want to miss. Her first babble was when she might look at him and accidentally call him something that sounded like “papa.” Her first mood was the pout that would replace her cries when she realized she could win him over with her grumpy little expressions. The first time she tried solid food, she probably made a mess of herself and everything around her, but she looked so proud.

Would she keep clinging to him like this when she was older? Or would she start reaching for you instead, her tiny arms outstretched, finding her comfort in you more than him? The thought was bittersweet. Sunoo knew he wasn’t the warmest presence, but he desperately hoped that she would still look at him the way she did now. With trust. With love.

He leaned down, his breath brushing against her soft, bald little head. She smelled faintly of baby lotion, a simple yet grounding scent. Without thinking, he pressed a soft kiss to her head, lingering momentarily as if to capture this fleeting memory. The warmth of her tiny body against his chest, the weight of her small form in his arms—something he wanted to etch into his soul, never to forget.

“You’re going to grow up too fast,” he murmured against her head, barely audible. “But I’m not going to miss it. Not any of it.”

The vow settled deep within him, heavier than any promise he’d made before. For all the power and wealth he held, this was the only thing that truly mattered. Sunoo wouldn’t let the chaos of his world steal these moments from him. Not her first laugh. Not her first steps. Not her first words.

Not her first memories of him as her father.

The baby shifted slightly, her little mouth twitching as if she were dreaming. Sunoo smiled faintly, the rare expression softening the hard edges of his face. He resumed gently rocking the chair, the motion soothing for both of them.

“I’ll be here,” he said quietly as if making the promise to her sleeping form. “Always.”

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