ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴍᴀʜᴀᴍᴀᴛʀᴀ (
cashewlater) wrote2023-02-22 11:14 pm
for now the day bleeds into nightfall;
[ cyno has had these dreams his entire life.
sometimes they are innocuous, even warm. he dreams of the stretching sands, the selfsame sands he grew up traversing, but they are.. different, the landscape changed, the people changed, the cities large and bustling. he loves these people, in his dreams. he wields a great staff and works his will across the desert, and he is content.
but other times.. other times there is pain, and grief, and all consuming, utter madness. it eats at him, it drags him down into the tar pits in the back of his mind, and it refuses to let go. these nightmares are difficult to wake from, they urge him to remain, to give in to the deep, endless despair, for there is no light left to reach for. its warmth is gone, faded from the world forever, and he will never know the peace of her touch again - why bother to grab for what is gone forever? her legacy is all that keeps him on his feet, her belief in him, that he could be something more, that he could bring lasting change. even still, he can hardly find the will to stand.
cyno wakes with a shout, his chest heaving with rapid breaths, his bronzed skin dewy with sweat, his scarlet eyes wide and wild, slitted pupils blown large and black, eclipsing the fiery wreaths of his irises. he has been talking in his sleep, writhing and groaning, the sheets damp with sweat and tangled around his legs from his thrashing, not rising even at the sound of her voice, not waking until the dream at last releases him from its dark, frenzied clutches. since meeting her, the nightmares have worsened, growing more common, more insistent, but that won't keep him from her side. nothing will keep him from her side. ]
sometimes they are innocuous, even warm. he dreams of the stretching sands, the selfsame sands he grew up traversing, but they are.. different, the landscape changed, the people changed, the cities large and bustling. he loves these people, in his dreams. he wields a great staff and works his will across the desert, and he is content.
but other times.. other times there is pain, and grief, and all consuming, utter madness. it eats at him, it drags him down into the tar pits in the back of his mind, and it refuses to let go. these nightmares are difficult to wake from, they urge him to remain, to give in to the deep, endless despair, for there is no light left to reach for. its warmth is gone, faded from the world forever, and he will never know the peace of her touch again - why bother to grab for what is gone forever? her legacy is all that keeps him on his feet, her belief in him, that he could be something more, that he could bring lasting change. even still, he can hardly find the will to stand.
cyno wakes with a shout, his chest heaving with rapid breaths, his bronzed skin dewy with sweat, his scarlet eyes wide and wild, slitted pupils blown large and black, eclipsing the fiery wreaths of his irises. he has been talking in his sleep, writhing and groaning, the sheets damp with sweat and tangled around his legs from his thrashing, not rising even at the sound of her voice, not waking until the dream at last releases him from its dark, frenzied clutches. since meeting her, the nightmares have worsened, growing more common, more insistent, but that won't keep him from her side. nothing will keep him from her side. ]

no subject
She dreams of flowers like the moon blooming in lilac tones like her skin, of an oasis deep within the desert, of lost souls being granted reprieve. She dreams of dances given in honor of a treasured friend, of feelings of rebellion and admiration... And she dreams of downfall.
They are dreams that leave her yearning, wondering for a deeper meaning, that sometimes plague her thoughts in the waking hours but... They are not like Cyno's dreams. Hers do not bid her to speak in her sleep, as if to grasp at an unknowable reality, they do not wrack her body in its entirety and pull her into a deep, dark void that she cannot be saved from. When Cyno dreams like this, there is nothing she can do but wait. And wait. Until he at last returns to her, ravaged and torture.
She leans over above him, whenever he finally wakes from these nightmares, to fill his sight, his world of her and only her whenever his eyes finally open with awareness. To tell him that in spite of what he saw in that darkness, she is here. And this time is no different. Ori looks down at his face and reaches with a tender touch to brush his hair out of his face, her features every bit as gentle as they are bound in heartache that he so continues to suffer at her side... But she cannot bring herself to part with him, either. ]
You were having nightmares again...
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and then the moment passes, and cyno begins to come back to himself, his heart slamming like a fist against his ribs, his breath coming quickly, shallowly, the hair that she moves from his eyes sticking to his skin with sweat. he tries to speak, can find no words, and focuses instead on his breathing, on calming himself, though gods, the imagery still clings to him like an oily film he cannot wipe away. the dream always leaves him this way, half out of his mind and feeling like someone else, somewhere else, his mind fragmented, his head filled with the sound of his own maddened, anguished screaming. it takes some time for him to remember who cyno is.
but soon he's lifting one hand, slipping it into her dark hair, his callused thumb smoothing over the soft rise of her cheekbone. ]
.. sorry.
[ he says, eventually, his voice rough like gravel, his eyes heavily lidded. ]
It'll pass.
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The moment that he reaches for her, her other hand lifts to squeeze his hand as his touch drifts across the skin of her face. She will always reach out for him in turn. ]
It's okay, and I know it will pass. There's no rush.
[ Drawing in a deep breath, she leans in to his touch, turning her head just slightly to press a kiss to his palm. ]
I'll always be here...
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i'll always be here.
why do those words make his heart ache? why does it hurt to hear them? because he knows that it may not be true? in this moment especially, cyno can't help but feel that she will draw away from him, that she will go somewhere that he cannot follow. hot tears prick the corners of his eyes, but cyno blinks them rapidly away. ]
I know.. [ he whispers, drawing his thumb along the line of her jaw, along her lower lip. ] I know.
[ and, slowly but surely, cyno returns to himself, his quickened breathing slowing, his spiked pulse calming. gently, he tugs her down to press their brows together. ]
Thank you.
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You're welcome. I'm glad you came back to me.
[ Sometimes, when he is plagued by his nightmares, she worries that one day he'll wake up and the Cyno that she knows will be gone. Like he would be replaced by another's soul in the body of her beloved... ]
Cyno... [ She presses their lips together in a soft, brief kiss before she continues to mutter his name against his mouth, each time like a prayer, like a call for him to tell her that it's him. ] Cyno... Cyno. I love you.
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I love you, too.
[ he murmurs, closing his eyes and tipping his chin upward to kiss her mouth, slow and soft, tugging gently on her lower lip. breathing in her scent, tasting her air.. it grounds him to the moment, and cyno can only hum his contentment, his free arm locking around her waist to pull her nearer. though his dreams often take him out of his body, out of his mind, once the disorientation passes he wants nothing more than to be as close to her as is rightly possible. ]
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She will never be, if she can help it.
Her hands thread into his hair white like moonlight standing stark against the night sky of her own hair, and Ori hums appreciatively into their kiss as she moves to bring herself fully onto him, thighs pressed against his sides. ]
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Ori..
[ he murmurs, while both hands skate up her back, over the thin fabric of her nightdress then down again, palming over the dip of her back, squeezing her ass with both hands, pulling her hips right against his own. the friction sparks heat in his loins, and his breath rushes against her mouth, the gentle tug of her fingers in his hair sweeping goosebumps down his forearms. ]
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Touch me, Cyno...
[ This intimacy helps anchor him, she knows, and as such she more than willingly offers herself to him. She grinds down on him, her hips against his, before she sits up to afford him the sight and gift of her body. Her amber eyes peer down gaze down at him, half-hooded. ]
However much you need, my love.
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You're beautiful.
[ he echoes his thoughts, murmuring into the space between them as his hands rove, slipping beneath her nightdress to smooth along the tops of her warm thighs. his palms and fingers are rough and callused from his work, from self-defense training, and his many years spent working as an agent. several years as a tattoo artist has not softened his touch.
delicate fabric gathers at his wrists as cyno pushes upward, his thumbs teasing at the band of her panties, his hips rocking forward, grinding the thick shape of his cock against her core. and all the while his hooded, smoldering eyes are on her face. ]
I need you.
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You, too. You're gorgeous, Cyno.
[ She'll never tired of saying it, too, though her words give way to a little needful moan. When he grinds against her like that, when he looks at her like that, when his voice sounds like that, she can feel herself getting hotter and wetter by the second. ]
Then take me...
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cyno's hands on her thighs tighten, squeezing, his abdomen flexing as he heaves his weight, flipping her over onto her back with surprising strength. he isn't much taller than her, but he's certainly well built, strong, able to turn her with ease and pin her back to the mattress.
and he wastes no time. diving in to kiss her mouth, cyno's right hand slips beneath the skirt of her nightgown, smoothing along the inside of her thigh - gods it's so warm, so soft - to drag his knuckles against her satin panties. he can feel her heat through the flimsy fabric that's already beginning to dampen, and it's enough to drive him wild, cyno's hips rutting hard against her thigh as he thrusts his hand down the front of her panties, tenting the fabric over his knuckles as he drags his long fingers along her core.
she's already so wet for him, hot and needful, and cyno groans into their kiss, his fingertips delving along the slick folds of her cunt before they rise to rub circles against her clit. he's an attentive enough lover to make sure she's well and worked up before plowing selfishly into her, after all; cyno wants her to enjoy this as much as he will, he wants to drown her in bliss until she can no longer breathe, until all she can speak is his name, begging, whining, longing. ]
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Cyno makes good on his word - he always does - and no sooner than she'd finished saying her words is he moving to press her back into the mattress and have his way with her. Take me, she'd said, though she knows by now that he won't allow himself to do so until he's tended to her.
And for that, she rewards him with a moan thrumming through their kiss, and with her fingers once again threading into his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp. The touch of his fingers against her sinfully wet core and her sensitive bud is good, so good, and her hips lift up from the mattress to seek more. He is well on his way to drowning her in bliss, certainly, and already she is whining and writhing for him. Feverishly, she manages to move her thigh to rub against his length, teasing both him and herself with the promise of what's to come later. ]
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her responses are as perfect as always. she opens for him like a flower facing the sun, her petals unfurling, and cyno finds himself instantly driven, what had once been a primal urge now an inferno raging in his blood. he swallows up her lovely sounds, her soft moans and plaintive cries that are muffled between their mouths, while his tongue curls against her own, tasting her, lost in her.
though his hips move a little forcefully against her thigh, his fingers are gentle as they slip into her body, middle and ring, sinking deep to the last knuckle. the way is made easy for how wet she is, and cyno's fingers are immediately curling, seeking out the tender bundle of nerves that he's touched countless times now. he knows well how to make her squirm.
breaking from the kiss at last, cyno drags his lips down the column of her throat, over her clavicle, mouthing at her breast through her nightdress, the thin fabric dampening as he arches his tongue against her nipple, sucking hard. ]
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[ Her body responds almost automatically; the moment that he sinks his fingers into her pussy, she already knows that his fingers will curl just so, that he will indeed make her squirm. And so she does, spreading her thighs wide for him, hips twitching and writhing atop the mattress. ]
Gods...
[ He takes her breath away, it's just as well; he breaks their kiss in favor of mouthing at her breast, and her mouth falls open to pave the way for each gasp for air, each moan, each whine she offers in response to his ministrations, her walls clenching tight around his deft fingers as he rubs at her most sensitive spot. It's a wonder that she's able to gather her wits about her enough to be able to pull one hand away from Cyno's hair to tug her nightgown downward. The straps of them loosen around her shoulders, and then another tug bares her breasts fully to him, urging him to ravish her there, too, where she needs to feel his hot, wet tongue against her without fabric in the way.
Then, that hand drifts down to at last venture past the band of his pants, to at last palm at him, letting her hand feel out that familiar shape of his prick. ]
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when she tugs down her nightdress, cyno dives onto her greedily, opening his mouth wide over her breast and sucking hard, curling his tongue against the warm bud of her hardening nipple. his hand between her thighs continues to work, plunging into her body, at least until her hand is on him at last and he's distracted by the sweet pleasure of her attentions. cyno groans, low and rough as gravel, his hips twitching forward; he's so hard for her, needy and wanting, and his dreams have only fueled his desire to be with her, to be one with her.
breaking his mouth away from her breast, cyno dips to kiss her again, whispering against her mouth while his free hand tugs his waistband lower, to better free his cock. ]
I need you..
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Hah, Cyno, please...
[ She shifts her hips, her legs, pressing her thighs into his sides and her heels into his back. Her hand pulls away from his cock only so that she can wrap her arms around his shoulders. ]
Take me, fuck me, whatever you want, my love...
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and gods, does he want. cyno groans, rough against her skin, his teeth sinking hard into her lower lip, and he immediately misses the feel of her hand against his cock, but it's worth it to feel her thighs closing around him, begging him for more.
he hesitates no longer. supporting himself on one elbow, cyno drops the opposite hand between them to take his prick in hand and guide it to her core, dragging the tip along the slick folds of her pretty pink pussy, but he does not tease for long. soon he's pushing into her, gliding easily for how wet she is, and with a roll of his hips cyno's cock is soon fully sheathed. a shudder sweeps down his spine, cyno's mouth opening against hers to breathe a low and rumbling moan. ]
Fuck - [ he hisses, hooking his arms beneath her knees. ] You feel so good..
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[ Everything about him in this very moment drives her wild in turn, from the way his voice sounds, to the bite of his teeth into her swollen, well-kissed lips, to the feel of his tip gliding along her slick folds until at last he sinks into her, deeply, filling her with him, to the way his moaning thrums against her warm skin. Her legs hook more tightly around him, mirroring his moan with one of her own while her eyes slip shut, letting her focus on the feeling of him. Her walls cling tight around his cock, almost as if she was made for him.
And perhaps she was. It's hard not to feel as much when she can never shake the feeling that their love was meant to span over lifetimes.
She is left utterly breathless by the time he looses those words against her mouth. ]
P..Please, Cyno, i-it's so good. Make me yours...
[ As if she isn't already his. ]
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she feels so good. she feels so good. being inside of her.. it always feels right, like it's scratching an itch deep in his soul, and cyno chases that feeling of fulfillment, his hips jerking, snapping down into hers, filling her up. he's not being terribly gentle, but she asks him to make her his, and so he shall, fucking into her roughly, possessively, dragging his mouth along her jaw to her pointed ear, whispering against it. ]
You are mine. Always.
[ his tongue curls against her ear in a warm swipe, before he's dipping his head to suck a dark mark into the tender curve where her shoulder and neck meet, his teeth pressing hard into her skin. ]
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She feels that sweet sting of pain on her skin, and the near-reckless abandon with which Cyno thrusts into her, and all she can think is that she wants more. ]
M-More, please, more... Cyno..
[ She wants to surrender her body entirely to him, wants the marks of his love all over her skin and his spend filling her up until she can't take any more. And so she moves her hips with his, meeting him thrust for thrust and grinding her clit between them, her mouth falling open and her no longer able to pass words through. Instead, she offers wordless affirmations with each moan and pant and gasp and whine in her voice. ]
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he's a caring man, and usually quite gentle, but they know one another well enough by now to understand what is and is not acceptable in bed. she enjoys this sort of roughness just as much as he does, and the moment she happened to seem to be in pain, he would surely stop. but instead, she begs for more, urging him to rut into her like an animal, to which he is all too happy to oblige. cyno groans, low and rough, his body tense, muscle rippling beneath sweat-slick skin. it's clear that he's close.
but he won't let go. not until she finished.
leaning his weight on one elbow, cyno slides a hand between their bodies to rub the rough pads of his fingertips over her slippery, swollen clit, pressing in quick circles, mouthing at her throat, his hips still working hard. ]
Come for me, love..
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The sound of his voice, the press of his dexterous fingers against her sensitive clit, quick and strong and just right, the fullness of his cock inside of her and in powerful, rough thrusts are enough - more than enough to send that wave of bliss finally crashing through her entire body. Her walls snap tight around him, squeezing and desperate for him as she comes hard and shudders against him fully, fingers digging and biting into the skin of his back. She gives a sinful, loud, careless cry for him, barely managing to move her mouth enough to say: ]
Come— inside me...
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she spasms around him, clamping around his cock, and cyno's breath is punched from his lungs as she squeezes him desperately, her slick walls clinging to his length as if she wishes never to let him go again. for all he had been rutting hard into her, cyno now stills, his hips stuttering, then snapping forward, holding as he comes, filling her up with hot ribbons of spend, one after the other.
white stars cloud his vision, and cyno gasps, growls, burying himself deep, deep, deep in her body, the only thing that keeps him grounded is the prick of her nails against his back. ]
Ori.. Ori..
[ he murmurs her name, over and over again like a prayer to the heavens, cyno's arms trembling, weakening as he crumples down onto her, his hips shifting, rocking against her, chasing every last thread of pleasure. ]
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He chants her name like a prayer, and in much the same way, she offers her own prayer: ]
Cyno... I love you. I love you, I love you... Don't let go of me...
[ — something within her almost spurs her to say again, like an unspoken word waiting to be uttered for centuries, but she cannot pay any mind to it in the moment. ]
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Never..
[ he murmurs, soft and quiet, his arms around her tightening. ]
I'll never let you go.