hazuri

//How I see it:

SerpentsHaste Hazama: Super ridiculously dominant person. Totes a hottie. Sayuri would easily submit. She was shy because he always had that aloof way of going about things. And he just poured straight up Dominance.

Serpentine–Captain Hazama: More suave than the first Captain. Very slick, more snake-like. And adorbs. Sayuri would be utterly fascinated with him, and be more bold because she could be more dominant and get away with it. [Sayuri is the seme here. She doesn’t care how it happened, but it kinda did. sAYURI WHY. Y'know why? It’s cuz she has pants in this ship, mhm! *shot*]

OuroborosCivettuola Hazama: A perfect mix of the above. Totes more give and take, but I think it’s more because she’s the only female Haz there is. Easily an equal relationship there.

Hazuri shipping 101

Cleaning is fun

Fingers, long and thin, worked the shampoo in her hair. Hazama honestly loved how red it was, and that she would allow him the privilege to clean it. He was gentle, tender even, as his fingers scraped against his scalp.

She moans softly, his fingers working the shampoo into a lather. “If I’d known you enjoyed your hair washed, I’d have done it sooner,” he laughs. He presses a kiss to lips, sweet and chaste.

“You should let me wash your hair next,” Sayuri murmurs. Hazama carefully rinses out the shampoo, making sure not to get not to get it into her silvery eyes. With her head fully tilted back, he presses a kiss to her throat. She hums lightly.

“I don’t see why not,” he replies. He finished, letting her sit up. They switched positions and he chuckles lightly as Sayuri carefully wets his hair. “I don’t know why you’d want to.”

“Because I like your hair,” she states simply. She picks up his shampoo, a scentless thing, and works it into his hair. Unlike Sayuri’s fine strands, his hair was difficult. It took her a long while of effort, but she managed to detangle the strands. Hazama begins chuckling at her efforts.

Sayuri happily begins to lather the thicker strands, pleased that she’d managed them thus far. Hazama sighs, nibbling on her collarbone and pressing kisses on her shoulders. Sayuri giggled softly when he pulls her close. He simply squeezes his arms, holding her.

She carefully rinses his hair, making sure that the soap was no where near his eyes. Hazama sighs, pleased when the shower finishes. They dry each other’s hair, Sayuri first at Hazama’s insistence. Sayuri begins giggling as she dries his thick strands of hair. They were sticking up in their typical fashion.

Hazama sighs, tolerantly allowing her to run her fingers through his hair. “My hair is going to stay like this for a day or so.” Sayuri giggles some more, her lips curled into a smile. Hazama’s own lips begin to curl, her smile was contagious.

“That’s fine,” she murmurs. “I like your hair like this better.” He chuckles indulgently. He didn’t mind this, he guessed. Though he wouldn’t be able to go to work the next day. He noticed the extra sway to her hips as she turned to get her clothes. Well…She wouldn’t be going to work either.

A Midnight Hello

The soft ticking of the clock in the corner was accented by breathing. Sayuri was curled on the couch, her head resting on her arms. She was asleep.

She’d tried to stay awake, waiting for Hazama to get home. She knew she’d most likely fall asleep, but she wanted to attempt it anyways. She always tried.

That’s how Hazama found her. He was startled, seeing her asleep on the couch. Hey keyboard lay nearby with Shirogane curled on top of it. It was still on, by the looks of it.

Long fingers flicked off the keyboard and brushed against Sayuri’s cheeks. Sayuri yawned quietly, silvery eyes blearily opening. “Hey baby,” she slurs. She raises her arms, beginning to stretch.

Hazama darts down, scooping her up. Sayuri’s outstretched arms simply drop to wrap around his shoulders. She tucks her head into the crook of his neck, sighing quietly. “Just get some sleep,” he croons.

“But,” she whines. He squeezes her, making her pause. “Okay,” she relents. Hazama tucks her into bed, pressing kisses to her cheeks, her jaw, her lips and neck.

He begins to strip himself for bed. Finally ready, he curls next to her, pulling her close. Sayuri lets out a massive yawn, snuggling into his warmth. “Love you,” she slurs.

Sayuri was half asleep when he replies. “Love you too,” he croons. He nuzzles her sweetly, whispering words she might not remember. “Love you more. More than you would ever know.”

Cup of joe

Sayuri stares at her traveling coffee cup, horror etched on her face. This wasn’t her coffee. It was black, boiling and disgustingly bitter.

Somehow in the morning rush, their traveling mugs had gotten swapped. Sayuri’s coffee was overly strong, perfect mouth temperature, tons of cream and plenty of sugar. They had two coffee brewers for a reason. Hazama’s regular coffee was decently strong, black and dark roasted. Sayuri’s was brutally strong, hazelnut flavored sludge. It resembled watered down coffee grounds rather than actual coffee.

Hazama had joked that you could stick a spoon in the center of the pot and it would stick straight up. He stared in absolute horror when he found out that yes, indeed you could. Sayuri hadn’t been able to live down his terrified screams of “Blasphemy! BLASPHEMY!”

She darted out of her office and phased through his office door. The coffee traveling mug was raised to his lips, as if he were to take a sip. “No,” Sayuri cries desperately. He pauses, staring at her confused as she dives at him. She phases through the desk, her hands wrapping around the cup.

Pressing her mouth against his in a rough kiss, she pulls the cup from his hand. When she pulls back, she sips the coffee. Yup. Hers. Hazama looked slightly dazed, staring at her incredulously.

Sayuri places his rightful cup in his hand. “If you think my coffee is a nightmare by looking at it,” she states, sliding off of his lap. “Then I wouldn’t want to see your reaction by accidentally drinking it.” She nearly shuddered at the thought.

Fluttering, Fluttering so Far

Sayuri knew he was out today. She wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. Or what he was doing. But after she’d admitted that she liked to play the keyboard and manipulate a synthesizer, Hazama immediately got her one.

She knew he did it to make sure he wouldn’t come home to see her an utter mess on the floor. Sayuri didn’t mind. She was distracted by the disjointed melodies that’d run through her head as soon as her fingers touched the keys.

Quietly, she began to sing. She wasn’t sure what the song meant, only knowing that it wasn’t her native tongue. And it was something that’d reminded her of Trinity and her relationship with Terumi.

Sayuri occasionally felt the echo of Trinity’s love for Terumi. And knew it was dwarfed by how Sayuri felt for the Snake. He’d made himself vulnerable to her. And he showed her things Trinity could never even dream of.

Shirogane quietly listened, its long ears twitching as Sayuri’s fingers moved over the keys. Her voice was quiet, matching the tone of the song. The last note seemed to echo in the room and Sayuri had to pause a moment to gather herself.

Silvery eyes slid open and she smiled at the little dragon. “How’d I do, Shirogane?” The Grimoire chirped, pleased. It very much liked the song.

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Sayuri’s apartment had burned down. Straight to a crisp. There was no hope of recovering her things. It was just when she came back from a mission that she was informed of the event. She felt tears prick her eyes. Some of those things had belonged to her parents.

She was in the office when she finally broke. She was at her desk when the tears suddenly came. She sank to the floor, letting herself curl into a ball under her desk. She tried to hide her sniffles. She tried to keep quiet. But it seemed like her Captain had sensed her distress.

His golden eyes peered at her, aloof though curious. “I have something to show you after work,” he murmured. He shifted slightly, an awkward quirk to his lips. Then he sighed. “How about I show you now instead?” He slowly coaxed her out, giving her tissues. Not like he cared. But Sayuri looked like a wreck.

They walked to his apartment. It was maybe about ten minutes. He allowed her in first before stepping in himself. He took her hand, leading her to a specific room. He opened the door and shifted out of the way, allowing her to enter. Sayuri gasped, seeing her dresser. Everything in her tiny apartment was in the room. Boxes of her things were in the corner. But her bed. Old photo albums filled with her family’s pictures. Everything that she’d worked to hard for was in the room.

Sayuri turned to him, speechless awe on her face. Hazama couldn’t quite look her in the eye. He shifted a bit, an odd tension in his shoulders. “They’re already calling you my little wife,” he sneered finally. “So why not just let you stay here? You can’t be late to work and you’ll even get a decent night sleep.”

Sayuri closed the distance between them, her arms wrapping around his waist tightly. She ignored how he jerked back at the sudden touch. She stood on her tip toes, pressing a fervent kiss to his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered. Tears dribbled down her cheeks.

“Tch!” Hazama sighed. His arm wrapped around her while his hand wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “Just stop cryin’ alright?” Sayuri smiled sweetly, her tears slowly stopping. Then Hazama leered. “And if you’re gonna kiss me, do it right.” Sayuri laughed, pressing kisses on his mouth. He wouldn’t know until later how important those photos were to Sayuri. Her last memories of her whole living family were there. The only evidence that they’d existed, other than Sayuri’s obvious presence.