my wicked love, love, love

“Gosh,” you dramatically breathe out, deflating like a balloon on its last legs the very instant your shared bedroom door closes with a firm click. The servants have been sent away for the night, and the dim candlelight sets the room awash with a gentle, heartwarmingly domestic glow. “I thought the night would never end!”

You kick off your shoes and the outer pieces of your outfit, each accessory polished to perfection and not a single hair out of place. Valeriy insists on it: as his partner, you must look and act the part so not to bring shame upon his efforts. You’re willing to go along with what he asks; besides, he knows you indulge in quite a bit of pride at seeing what he accomplishes day in and day out. Acting the part of a distinguished major’s partner is a small sacrifice to make in contrast to the countless he has to make. 

Your shoulders sag, and though Valeriy knows he should scold you for haphazardly shedding your layers and throwing them all over the room, it’s as if a weight’s been lifted off his own shoulders when you throw yourself onto your bed. You’re in nothing but the most necessary of undergarments, and you let out another satisfied sigh at finally unburdening yourself of all the propriety of public scrutiny.

“There’s so many rules to remember. I don’t know how you manage to do it all without messing up!” You laugh, craning your neck to look up at him from where you’re splayed across the sheets. Valeriy swallows thickly. You’re the picture of innocent temptation, and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. There’s no prying eyes here, in this safe haven that exists just for the two of you, but old habits die hard. You don’t mind if he’s a little uncouth with you, but it’s only when he’s at his limit does he let his gentlemanly mask slip.

“I don’t think of them as rules to be followed. I make them part of myself until it becomes instinctual,” he responds coolly. He carefully slips his coat off of his shoulders and starts to shed his own layers too, taking careful steps to smooth and fold them over so that there won’t be any creases tomorrow morning.

You roll your eyes, but the smile doesn’t fade from your face for even a second. “I don’t know why I thought you’d say anything else. That’s Major Valeriy for you. If polite society demanded you hold your breath and do five cartwheels in a row while naked, you’d do so in a heartbeat. Isn’t that right, Riy?”

The all-too-innocuous petname has his stomach feeling like it’s holding its breath and doing five cartwheels in a row while naked. You’re the only person in Teyvat who could disarm him this easily. Not a lifetime of weapons and battle and bloodshed but a sly giggle and a one syllable nickname from the person he loves most. 

It’s his turn to bite back a laugh. He turns to face you, his silhouette illuminated golden. An unreadable atmosphere falls over his expression as he looms over you, shadows pinning you down in place. “Are you admonishing me, my dear? You say all this but I’d say you did a fine job tonight yourself.”

“Of course. I do it all for you,” you reply back. Valeriy wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and shove his own selfish mouth all over yours, your naughty little mouth that makes him forget that he’s a major and a respected member of the military, your coy mouth that reminds him he’s just a man underneath the glamor and the fanfare, one that’s not above kissing you until your mouth is swollen from his insatiable kisses and his name is all your tongue can eke out.

As much as he lives and dies for his code of conduct, it’s night like these he loves the best. Nights where he can put everything down and go back to being someone ordinary in your arms. Nights where he can put his own politeness down and tease you until you’re smacking at his arms and begging for mercy in between your own laughter. Nights where he exists solely for your eyes, poise and integrity be damned.

“I see how it is then,” he murmurs. You watch with eyes widening to the size of saucers, anticipation hanging thick in the air like the inches of snow stacking up outside your shared home. He crawls into bed with you, caging you in between the mattress, his torso, and his toned arms. Heat spikes the air when he leans in to press a sultry kiss to your jaw, and he’s rewarded with a sweet sound—a cross between a gasp and a laugh.

“Valeriy!” You squeal helplessly as he starts to indulge that hidden selfish streak of his, his lips greedily searching out every inch of your bare skin that he can.

“Don’t blame me—,” he breathes into your body. Your scent is intoxicating, and his composure has already run off far, far away. All that remains in its place is a hunger that only you can stave off, and Valeriy wants you now. 

He grins, wicked and impolite and voracious, “—You’re the one who wanted me to be a rule-breaker so badly.”