#canon setting

BOSS!SEVIKA ♡ that just shows up at your apartment for a fuck. what the hell is a booty call? she’s stressed and horny, you’re stressed and horny. it’s what you two signed up for. but sevika never makes you doubt she’s just using you; she does care.

“did you eat once you came home?” the question is murmured against your lips as sevika backs you up against the wall. she breathes you in, grasping your hips with those broad hands — one sharp and cold, another thick and warm — to roll them against hers.

“mhm…” you huff against her mouth, cupping her cheeks to seize her lips properly. “did you?”

“i don’t have this physique for nothing, sweetheart.”

it’s not long before you two are tumbling onto your bed. the mattress never fails to squeak from sevika’s extra weight, and you can never not snicker about it. clothes come off quickly, but oh so carefully. sevika’s quite mindful of her prosthetic fingers— even with years of experience of having one, she’d never forgive herself for scratching your skin for being careless in the heat of the moment. either way, she enjoys the process of peeling clothes away little by little.

with your blouse out of the way, her thick lips slide down from the delicate slope of your neck down to your sternum. she kisses the flat space between your breasts as her right hand works the clasp of your bra free with ease. you shrug off the straps to aid her, and once the chill air hits your skin, your pebbled nipples ache from the lack of stimulation on them. sevika’s mouth descends on your left breast, tongue flattening against the firm peak to suckle. your fingers curl into the silky strands of her hair, hips rocking upwards when her right hand settles over your other tit.

“missed these,” sevika breathes against your skin, shuddering in delight when your grip on her hair makes her scalp burn. “you keep doing that, baby. hold onto me.”

BOSS!SEVIKA ♡ adores to go down on you in her office. nothing heals her headaches quicker than having her tongue at the apex of a woman’s legs, head crushed between that soft thigh fat, and senses dulled and narrowed down to focus on taste and scent.

you’re splayed across the desk, socked feet propped up on the armrests of the chair sevika’s seated on. the old mahogany is tall enough that sevika doesn’t have to do much other than to lean down a little. her breath fans over your belly as she kisses her way south of your body, and you cant help a shudder when her thumbs spread your lips open to expose your leaking cunt.

“aw. look at her,” sevika coos quietly, giving a tut. “what’s she so wet for?”

sevika knows— she just wants to hear it.

"from watching you in the meeting today," you admit, shuddering out a breath when sevika rewards your honesty with a slide of her tongue over your slit. she sucks before pushing her tongue into your tongue, neck tipped backwards to properly nuzzle her thick, hooked nose against your clit. "when you — fuck — called them out on their bullshit and shut their mouths up. do you know how... sexy it is that you didn't even have to raise your voice?"

"i have a rough idea, yeah..."

there's not much else that needs to be said. sevika takes her time. her prosthetic hand remains splayed over your belly— not as a means to keep your hips pinned down, but to instead feel every jump and jerk more efficiently. her tongue curls into you before slipping out, and her mouth moves up to seal itself over your clit. she doesn't hurry things, opting to keep her motions slow to draw things out.

her middle finger sinks into your cunt, and sevika relishes in the noises she pulls from your mouth and pussy as she pumps the digit before adding another in. she flicks her tongue over your puffy bud, and the combined stimulation of those thick fingers, her mouth, and her hand pressing down on your belly so that you can feel more of her is enough to tip you over the edge with a cry of her name.

BOSS!SEVIKA ♡ breaks the 'casual' code sometimes. what you two have is nothing more than just simple relations, but she can't help but stay the night every now and then. if you're at her place, she insists you don't return home alone. she knows you're capable of handling yourself — you're her assistant for a reason — but she uses her "worry" as an excuse to keep you in her arms just a little longer.

BOSS!SEVIKA ♡ that's more submissive late into the night. she likes it when you take control— settling the pace, telling her how to angle her hips, and guiding her hands on where you want them most. she's an old lady with something on her plate at all times, and most days, she simply wants to let go.

sevika's naked chest expands with every raise of your hips, then relaxes in an exhale and quiet grunt or moan when they roll back down. her gaze is indecisive— unsure of whether to stare at your face, your breasts, or where your body meets her as you sink down on her strap in slow and steady motions.

"wish you could feel me. how deep you are in me," you murmur, bowing your head forward. your palm slides to the right to cup her full breast, and sevika's hips jerk upward when your fingers roll the dark nipple between them. "yes— like that. angle your hips like that—"

sevika complies, easing her hands towards your waist as an anchor. she aids you down on her dick as she repeats the smooth yet firm motion of her hips. spent as she is, watching and hearing you spurs her on and keeps her going.

"touch your clit for me, baby," sevika gasps out, thick brows pinches together. "come around me."

BOSS!SEVIKA ♡ is very clingy after fucking, but can you blame her? she's always been a woman on her feet, and shortly after having a fling, she was out of the house — or brothel — to move on. so yeah, she likes to indulge in all that pillow talk. she's no stranger to giving aftercare, but she is new to being kissed, massaged, and having her hair played with.

she doesn't mean to fall asleep on you, though. sevika doesn't like to sleep around other people after spending her whole life keeping her guard up. but she does, and it's not even the light kind of sleep where you have to mind how loud you're breathing— no. it's that full REM sleep, and you even manage to adjust sevika's position to avoid a sore neck in the morning without waking her.

"you know you snore, right, sev?" you tease. sevika scoffs, rolling herself out of bed with a crack and pop of her right shoulder.

"i do not," sevika disagrees, because of course she does. she's not the type to snore, she's not. and she's not the kind to admit that sleeping by your side has been the best sleep she's gotten in years. "but you move around a lot. and kick."

Nie Mingjue wants to hit something, wants to slam his fist into the next wall, and only the thought that he has already hurt Jiang Cheng beyond belief with his actions stops him.

It wouldn’t do to hurt Jiang Cheng’s home as well.

Nie Mingjue scrubs a hand over his face, the regret still putting a sour taste on his tongue, and he wonders where they will go from here.

It’s clear to him that he just lost Jiang Cheng—and rightfully so, with what he did—and the thought makes his heart stumble painfully.

Nie Mingjue has been in love with Jiang Cheng since the Sunshot Campaign and he doesn’t understand how he could lose control like this after all this time. There is no excuse for it; it’s not his first visit to Lotus Pier, it’s not the first time he has been alone with Jiang Cheng and it’s certainly not the first time Jiang Cheng smiled at him.

There is simply no good explanation for it, and Nie Mingjue feels like that only makes it worse. There wasn’t even a trigger and that means he can never trust himself again.

“Zongzhu, I—” a disciple suddenly says as she steps into the room, but she falls silent when she sees that Jiang Cheng is no longer there. “Where is Jiang-zongzhu?” she asks, her eyes already narrowed at Nie Mingjue.

“He left,” Nie Mingjue rasps out and then bows to her. “Please tell him that I’m—” he wants to say sorry but it doesn’t feel like enough, doesn’t feel like it could even begin to put everything right.

“I will take my leave,” Nie Mingjue says instead. “Please reassure him that I will not return unless he asks me to.”

It feels like the least he can do, to stay away from Jiang Cheng until the other man wants to see him again, if that case should ever happen.

“What did you do?” the disciple asks, her voice noticeably colder and Nie Mingjue shrugs helplessly.

“Something I shouldn’t have,” he finally whispers and he was not prepared for how fast she suddenly moves, but the next thing he knows, her sword is at his throat.

“Did you hurt him?” she asks, her voice dangerously low and Nie Mingjue keeps himself completely still.

“I think so, yes,” he mumbles, afraid to speak too loudly in case the movement makes her sword bite into his throat.

“Then you will leave,” she tells him, almost sweetly now, and Nie Mingjue has to admit that he hasn’t been this afraid of someone in ages.

He absolutely believes that she is going to kill him should she find out what he did to Jiang Cheng.

“You will leave and you will stay the hell away from him. And if you don’t, if you show your face here again, if you dare to hurt him again, you will be a dead man.”

Nie Mingjue swallows at her words, and just like he thought her sword bites into his throat. The pain is minimal but it’s the least he deserves.

“Understood,” he gets out and despite everything he is beyond glad to see that Jiang Cheng has good people at his side.

“Then scram,” she tells him, finally taking the sword away from his throat and Nie Mingjue should be offended by her behaviour but instead he bows deeply to her.

“If you think he wants to hear it, tell him I’m sorry, please,” he says, even though it’s still no excuse.

It’s not like there could ever be an excuse for kissing someone against their will.

“We’ll see about that,” she haughtily tells him, and Nie Mingjue supposes that’s the best he can hope for.

He bows to her again and just in that moment the door opens a second time and in steps Jiang Cheng.

“Zongzhu,” the disciple says, her sword still in her hand and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at her.

“What is going on here?”

“I am leaving,” Nie Mingjue says, not daring to come out of his bow and meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Words cannot express how sorry I am,” he still forces himself to say. “Rest assured that I won’t be back until you explicitly ask me to.”

“Like hell you will,” Jiang Cheng snaps and Nie Mingjue flinches at his words.

“Zongzhu,” the disciple starts but Jiang Cheng cuts her off.

“If that is his blood on your blade, then we will talk later,” he tells her and now Nie Mingjue finally comes out of his bow.

“Please do not punish her. She was justified in her actions.”

“I doubt that,” Jiang Cheng says, his eyes falling to the no doubt shallow cut on Nie Mingjue’s throat. “Leave now.”

“I will,” Nie Mingjue says exactly at the same time the disciple says it and Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at Nie Mingjue.

“You are going to stay,” he tells him and of course Nie Mingjue nods.

He’ll do anything Jiang Cheng says, in an attempt to make up for what he did.

“Zongzhu, Nie-zongzhu,” the disciple says but her tone is still as frosty as before.

Jiang Cheng watches her leave before he turns to Nie Mingjue.

“I’m sorry about her,” he says. “She’s my second in command and she can get a little bit overprotective.”

“No need to apologize. It’s good that you have loyal people like that,” Nie Mingjue says, unable to meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

He wonders if Jiang Cheng is going to yell at him, or if he’s simply going to tell him to get out and never come back but in the end it doesn’t matter. He’ll take whatever Jiang Cheng deems an appropriate punishment for his actions.

“You’re bleeding,” Jiang Cheng mutters, already reaching for a handkerchief but when he steps forward Nie Mingjue moves back.

“That’s alright,” he says. “It’s just a shallow cut, there’s no need to concern yourself with something like this, Jiang-zongzhu.”

“Mingjue, what the hell,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and moves forward so fast that Nie Mingjue doesn’t have time to step back. “Just let me clean it.”

Nie Mingjue can do nothing but obediently tilt his head back to give Jiang Cheng easier access to the wound.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me, but please rest assured that it won’t happen again,” Nie Mingjue can’t help but to say as Jiang Cheng dabs at his throat.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him and Nie Mingjue snaps his mouth closed.

If Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to hear him speak then he won’t.

“Mingjue, I—”

Nie Mingjue doesn’t dare to look but he’s reasonably sure that Jiang Cheng is no longer cleaning the cut, but instead resting his hands on his chest and he doesn’t know what to think of that at all.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Mingjue whispers yet again and Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath.

“Will you stop saying that, for heaven’s sake,” Jiang Cheng groans out.

Nie Mingjue shakes his head as he takes a step back, making Jiang Cheng’s hands fall away from his chest.

“No. Never. Because I am so incredibly sorry. I never meant to—” he takes a deep breath and scrubs a hand over his face.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng suddenly says and Nie Mingjue freezes.

“What?” he whispers and finally looks at Jiang Cheng.

It seems like now it’s Jiang Cheng who can’t meet his gaze, but Nie Mingjue is fascinated by the light blush on his cheeks and it’s a sight he surely will never tire of.

“I’ve been in love for you for a very long time,” Jiang Cheng admits, his hands nervously playing with the handkerchief. “So when you kissed me, I just—I didn’t deal well with it. I’ve wanted that for so long and I just—I didn’t know what to do with that. Leaving seemed like the safer option.”

“You love me,” Nie Mingjue repeats, his heartbeat tentatively taking up speed as the words truly sink in. “You are in love with me.”

“Stop saying it!” Jiang Cheng hisses at him, now definitely red in the face and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“Never. Say it again?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng says, sticking his chin out. “Not before I hear you say it. Or isn’t that why you kissed me?”

There’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice, and that is something that Nie Mingjue cannot allow at all.

“Of course I love you. I wouldn’t kiss you if I didn’t,” Nie Mingjue immediately reassures him, taking a step forward and pulling Jiang Cheng close with a hand on his hip. “I love you,” he whispers into the space between them and when Jiang Cheng raises his head a little bit, Nie Mingjue doesn’t hesitate.

This kiss might even be better than the first one, because at least now Nie Mingjue knows that Jiang Cheng wants it as well.

“I apologize for my second,” Jiang Cheng says when they part, his fingers drifting over Nie Mingjue’s throat again. “I’ll talk to her.”

“No need,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and captures his hand to kiss his fingers. “She thought I hurt you, so there’s nothing to hold against her. I’m glad you have her.”

“She overreacted,” Jiang Cheng sighs out.

“She thought I hurt you,” Nie Mingjue reiterates. “If I thought someone hurt you, I would have done way worse. Hell, I would have cut myself if I thought it would make it up to you.”

“Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng whispers, his eyes wide. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I thought I did. I thought I took something you were unwilling to give. Her reaction was mild in comparison to what I deserve for that.”

“It was willingly given,” Jiang Cheng softly says and Nie Mingjue pulls him into a hug.

“And I will forever be grateful for that,” he mumbles into Jiang Cheng’s hair, the stress and worry finally falling off him.

“If you still want to make up for it, though, you can do so with more kisses,” Jiang Cheng shyly says into his shoulder and Nie Mingjue allows himself to smile.

“I will want to make up for that for the rest of my life,” he promises Jiang Cheng and pushes Jiang Cheng just far enough away to get started on that immediately.

If kissing Jiang Cheng is his punishment, then Nie Mingjue will gladly take it. And going by the smile that curves Jiang Cheng’s lips as Nie Mingjue kisses him, he is just as glad.

He turned his head a little to look at her, and to acknowledge her presence.  She hadn’t changed much in appearance, he thought; it was most likely imagination that suggested she was even thinner now than when they’d arrived.  He felt guilty for bringing her to this desolate place, as useless as that sentiment was, and it clouded his judgment.  It was frustrating that he allowed emotion to rule his thoughts like this since his release from internment at the end of the war.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Saitō-san—”

“Hajime.”

“Oh! I keep forgetting… I mean, Hajime-san.” She pronounced the syllables of his first name with special emphasis, and then smiled shyly.  He smiled in return, feeling the usual twin rush of satisfaction with her and dissatisfaction with himself for allowing his emotions such free rein.

“Is there a problem?”

“Ah, well, it will be getting dark soon, and it’s not very warm out today already, so I thought maybe you’d like to come in and have some tea?”  She squared her shoulders, and continued, “It’s really too cold for sitting on the ground you know, H-Hajime-san.”

“Hmm.”  She was right of course.  The air didn’t yet smell of snow, but tonight they would have frost.

“Or perhaps I should fetch water so that I can start heating a bath—”

“No—I mean, it isn’t necessary for you to fetch the water.  I’ll get it.”  The full bucket was heavy, and awkward for her to carry from the well they shared with their closest neighbours.  But that wouldn’t stop her, once she’d made up her mind that he needed a hot bath.

“Okay! Thank you, Hajime-san.”

“Chizuru… You do not need to thank me for fetching us water.”  He couldn’t help the amusement he felt creep into his tone.  “Especially not when it is water for my own bath.”

“Ah—”

“Although of course you are welcome to bathe first, if you wish.” Saitō kept a perfectly straight face, and waited for the inevitable reaction to such a shocking breach of custom (not to mention Chizuru’s manifest personal inclination).

“Oh no, Saitō-san! I could never do that!”  Sure enough, his beloved—his wife—was appalled.  But after only a moment she returned, undeterred, to her purpose. “So you’ll go fetch water now, then? And drink some tea while I heat your bath?”

Helpless before such determined care, Saitō rose from seiza, and pressed a light kiss to Chizuru’s forehead. That wasn’t quite enough to convey his gratitude, so he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest.  He ignored her faint—very faint—protest of embarrassment.

“Yes, dear one.  I will fetch water now, and then we will have tea while it heats.”  He’d endured so much worse than sitting for an hour on cold ground in the past—days and weeks of sleeping injured and without shelter during the war in Aizu—but he knew that she knew this, and understood that it was why she was determined to spoil him (his word, not hers, of course).

“…Well, good then. … I mean, thank you for fetching the water.”  Her words were muffled by his kimono, but neither of them moved to break the embrace right away.

There would be frost on the ground tonight, but Saitō knew that he wouldn’t feel it in either his body or his heart.  Chizuru was a surprisingly stubborn woman, and she had appointed herself his guardian in these matters.  He would be able to grieve his losses in his own time, and in his own way, and she would make sure that he stayed warm.

[END]