all returns to silence
pairing: cyno/reader
content: sub!cyno, dom!reader, reader gives sleepy cyno a bath, handjob, body worship, praise, nipple play, biting/marking, this takes place after cyno’s first story quest, so mild spoilers!
word count: 5.2k
The moon was well into its tranquil climb up the night sky when you at last heard the long-anticipated click of your front door unlocking. It was so subtle, you were sure to have missed it if you’d actually been asleep like you were meant to have been hours ago. But in your defense, it was your fourth night alone.
You liked to think that you were used to it by now—you probably should have been used to it by now, with Cyno’s work so greedily calling for him to disappear for days on end, often with little to no warning. But knowing that offered you no consolation when each passing night, his scent faded from your sheets a little more, the lull in your bedroom grew a little bit louder, the space next to you in bed felt a little bit emptier. His absence occupied everything.
Silent as ever, featherlight footsteps padded down the dark hallway towards your bedroom, not making a stop by the kitchen or even the bathroom to wash his sand-speckled face. Straight to you. It was reminiscent of that deceptively calm trod he’d use to corner his prey, sneaking up on targets who weren’t even aware that they were being hunted by a hungry jackal. But now, those footsteps were full of care. Despite the fatigue gripping Cyno’s body, he still found enough strength within him to keep his movements quiet so you wouldn’t stir. If only you’d been asleep to begin with.
Before he could even slip into the room, you were sitting upright in bed, struck with a surge of adrenaline that immediately undid any progress you’d made in falling asleep.
“Cyno.”
You could see his eyes widen in surprise, even with nothing but the faint moonlight illuminating them through your window.
“Did I wake you?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” you replied. After mulling it over, you added with a soft smile, “So, in a sense, yes.”
You slid out of bed, unable to mask your urgency as you made your way over to meet him in the doorway. Lights flickered to life as you adjusted the oil lamp, flooding the bedroom with a pale glow and bringing you face to face with Cyno for the first time in days. He looked utterly exhausted. Eyes half-lidded, dark circles so deep that you weren’t sure where they ended and where his kohl began. Tousled strands of hair fell into his piercing red gaze, crystallized with grains of sand, sweat, and something you could only assume was dried blood.
It was to be expected, but that didn’t mean the battered sight tugged at your heart any less. Without him having to say a word, you could tell that he hadn’t gotten a wink of proper sleep since he’d left on his self-assigned mission into the Land of Lower Setekh. Even in the days prior to that, he couldn’t have had many opportunities to rest while investigating the Court of Desolation with the Traveler. Once Cyno put his mind to something, he would follow it through until his very last breath. It was the only path ahead of him, tunneling his vision and clouding his otherwise crystal clear mind.
The state of the man before you would make most others flinch in fear, but you rested your hands on his cheeks, cupping them delicately. Just like that, something shifted in Cyno. His stony face, hardened by the unforgiving squalls of the desert, mellowed under your palms. Catlike pupils dilated, melting into warm, glowing pools of crimson.
“You look tired,” you whispered, brushing a few silver hairs out of his eyes.
He leaned into your touch immediately, letting a quiet sigh slip out. “I’m okay,” he assured you. “Although…I could really go for some biryani right now.”
It took you a moment, but when you spotted the amused twitch of his lips, you knew exactly what was coming next. Funnily enough, what would normally make you roll your eyes now put you at ease.
“It’s rice to meat stew again, too.”
The smile that had been dancing on his lips broke free at last, making his cheeks swell in your hands. “You really like that one, huh?”
In truth, what you liked most was the proud look that would light up his face each time you giggled at his silly greeting. Except this time, a bit of relief was mixed into his expression as well. Almost like he’d been anxious that his gruesome appearance may have unsettled you, and immediately felt the need to make you laugh as a distraction.
“How could I not?” you beamed. “Hearing it means I get to see you again.”
Cyno’s self-satisfied grin softened into a shyer one, eyes averting suddenly with an awkward clear of his throat. It was ironic to you, how he could spew the most cringeworthy jokes with no ounce of shame, yet lose his composure over such a simple display of affection. Before you could call him out for it, though, he wobbled a bit in your arms, reminding you again of the situation at hand.
“Are you actually hungry? You must be sick of all those flavorless rations you’ve been eating the past few days.”
He shook his head, leaning forward to nuzzle into the crook of your neck without a word. The protruding ears of his headpiece rubbed against your cheek in the process, so you took the opportunity to gently remove the helmet from his head. You knew Cyno must’ve been ravenous, but at this point his exhaustion trumped all, making him forget about anything other than the comfort of your body pressed against his.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, letting a bit of his weight lean into you as he took in your scent. You welcomed it, relishing in every inch of his warm skin as if you were committing the feeling to memory for the next time his duties whisked him away from you.
Your hand rested on the small of his back, flattened, hungry to feel as much of him as you could. For once, he was selfishly devouring every bit of physical contact you gave him. He slumped against you a bit more, barely restraining himself from collapsing right there. As you stroked along his spine and up to his tense shoulders, your fingers brushed over a fresh scar ripping across his shoulder blades.
Cyno winced subtly when you traced along the jagged line. It felt rough under your touch, already beginning to heal itself, but you could tell it had been deep.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” his answer came a bit too quickly. Without even looking at you, he knew you weren’t convinced, so he continued, “Not anymore. Candace had Doctor Maruf apply some healing balm to it when I passed through Aaru Village.”
You hummed in acknowledgement, still rubbing the pads of your fingers along the wound. “And the blood…”
“Isn’t mine,” he mumbled into your skin. “Most of it, anyway.”
He took comfort in the fact that your body relaxed against his. You finally moved your hand away from his shoulders, instead playing delicately with the long hair swooping out at his nape. It took all of Cyno’s might to pull himself from the shelter of your neck, only because he knew he may very well fall asleep if he stayed like that any longer.
His heartbeat picked up as your eyes met his once more. After days of furious glares directed his way from apprehended criminals, after a lifetime of passing looks on the street filled with fear, mistrust, sometimes even unmasked contempt, he looked into your eyes and was met with nothing but love. Soft and raw and boundless. He never realized how much the stares he got truly weighed on his mind until he was back with you.
“Good,” you said at last. Your fingers stopped their caress of his hair, and Cyno nearly found himself pushing his body back in search of your touch again. The loss lasted for no more than a moment, however, as you took his hand in yours. His palm was calloused, no doubt carrying a residual ache from the iron grip he kept on his polearm. You almost felt a tinge of jealousy when you thought of that staff of scarlet sands, always by his side in his most perilous moments, always guarding him, even while he slept.
You gave his hands a squeeze. “Let’s get you washed up, then you can have a much-needed rest.”
Cyno paused for a moment. “Oh. That’s…not necessary—”
“You’re in no state to clean yourself, Cyno,” you reasoned. “I’m afraid you might actually pass out before the water hits your skin.”
You chose to leave out the issue of his injury, only because you were certain he’d disregard it even more than his exhaustion. As he opened his mouth to argue, he cut himself off with a wide yawn that he fruitlessly tried to hide behind the curtain of his bangs.
“And I’m not about to let you sleep without a shower so you can turn our bed into the Desert of Hadramaveth.”
He clamped his jaws shut, clearly disgruntled by his own body betraying him like that. Still, he agreed. “Very well.” He gave you a shy nod before adding, “Thank you…my love.”
He was never really able to say those words without stuttering or ducking his head, but that just made them all the sweeter to you. You still remembered the first time he’d let the term of endearment slip, so quiet that you’d thought you’d imagined it at first. But the flustered look on his face had been very real—that was another habit he still hadn’t grown out of. You hoped he never would.
Before you could reciprocate—or worse, tease him for it, Cyno promptly changed the subject as you tugged him towards the bathroom. “How are the gardens coming along?”
“Really well. Some of the Padisarahs have already begun to sprout,” you chirped. His weary eyes sparkled at that, and you knew he was already envisioning the pudding that would be made with them once the flowers were in full bloom. As you turned on the water and began to sprinkle dried herbs and petals from your garden into the bathtub, you contemplated the topic you planned to bring up next, one that had been nagging away at you for hours.
“Tighnari actually stopped by around sunset to check their progress. He seemed pleased, too.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Cyno tense slightly, already suspecting what you were hinting at with the seemingly offhand comment. If you and Tighnari had met today, then he surely must have passed the news on to you about what had transpired on Cyno’s mission. Cyno doubted his friend would’ve minced his words around you, he was far too straightforward.
There was a spell of silence as you scattered Kalpalata Lotus leaves into the rising water. Then, you spoke up again, confirming his suspicions. “Three hundred arrests in four days,” you mused, almost to yourself. Your tone gave away no signs of frustration, but it wasn’t a secret to Cyno how you felt about this development.
“Well—” he let out a quiet cough. “It had to be done.”
“By you alone? I hadn’t realized the Akademiya was so short on manpower.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” he tried to reassure you, though there was a distinct lack of his usual certainty to it. “I’ll carry out my duties to the end, no matter what it takes.”
“That’s precisely why I worry, silly,” you huffed, motioning for him to step in the prepared tub. He kept his head lowered as he undressed, both out of modesty over his bare form, and to avoid what was no doubt a disapproving stare from you. It was clear he had no regrets about the justice he’d delivered—you’d figured that much already—but the toll his duties had taken on him this time wouldn’t be easily forgotten.
Still, you decided not to press the matter any further, at least for now. What Tighnari had said to you earlier that day lingered in the back of your mind, about how lonely Cyno had looked after returning from his mission. Bearing the weight of his responsibilities as a matra was one thing, but the loss of Taj must have been infinitely heavier than anything he’d anticipated when taking on this case. You wanted to ease the burden on his shoulders, not add to it.
At last, Cyno removed the choker around his neck and slipped into the pool of water, letting out an uncharacteristically vocal sigh of relief. The bath was nothing like the scalding heat of the desert he’d grown used to enduring. It was a welcoming warmth, fragrant with natural remedies that he could practically feel seeping into his bones and revitalizing him. You settled on the tile platform surrounding the tub, scooping some water into your hands and trickling it over his hair.
“Whenever you’re willing…” you began softly. “You can tell me all that’s on your mind. Okay?”
There was a pause, and for a second, you worried that he may resort to old, guarded tendencies and dismiss your offer. Then, he nodded gratefully. “I know. Thank you.”
Satisfied, you squeezed some shampoo into your palm and got to work. Cyno had already been struggling to keep his eyes open, so it was no surprise that the moment your fingers found his hair, his heavy eyelids drooped to a close. He tilted his head back just enough for you to get a look at his content face as you gently began massaging his scalp. You savored the sight of him, knowing that he wouldn’t have been nearly as willing to be pampered like this if he wasn’t too worn-out to protest.
As you took your time detangling each lock of hair with careful attention, he drowsily recounted the non-confidential parts of what had unfolded the past four days. He glossed over the heavier details that he wasn’t quite ready to talk about, instead focusing on his escapades with the Traveler, which to you, sounded like something out of a storybook. There was a noticeable passion that crept into his voice when he talked about the outlander’s battle prowess, almost akin to childlike wonder. It warmed your heart, leaving a fond smile plastered to your face the entire time he spoke.
Grains of sand trickled down his neck and back as you rinsed the last of the rose-scented conditioner from his hair. The way the streams of soapy water glistened on his dark skin was utterly captivating to watch, and when you swept his freshly-cleaned hair to the side to begin washing his body, it was hard not to get distracted by the view. Cyno trailed off mid-sentence, seeming to realize that your hands had stopped their ministrations. He cast a curious glance over his shoulder, surprised to find you observing him with such intensity.
He tilted his head, wondering if you were still fussing over his injury. “I promise, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
Your gaze swept over his body, making no effort to mask your admiration as you drank in the toned expanse of his back, muscular shoulders, and lean torso disappearing into the foamy water.
The word slipped out like a reflex before you could stop it. “Beautiful.”
Cyno’s half-lidded eyes widened. Just as he turned his head away in embarrassment, you caught his cheeks flushing a faint shade of red, much to your delight. He mumbled something incoherent in response, pretending to busy himself with the floating petals that swirled around him in the tub. Grinning at his reaction, you lathered the sponge with soap to begin washing his back. His muscles relaxed under your hands, a soft hum of appreciation slipping out of him as you scrubbed gently at his skin. You were extra careful as you passed over the scar on his shoulder blades, tenderly dabbing around the affected area so as not to break the scab.
The tips of your fingers traced a pattern over the wound, so delicate that it nearly lulled Cyno to sleep on the spot. Once you had washed the residual soap suds away, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in to press a soft kiss over it. He stiffened a bit, then eased up again just a quickly, soothed by the plush feel of your lips.
“Sorry,” you whispered, mouth still hovering over the scar. “Couldn’t resist.”
“That’s alright,” he hesitated before adding, “It…feels nice.”
Smiling into his skin, you placed one last peck to his shoulder before pulling away to continue washing his body. As you reached over to scrub his chest, you could feel his heartbeat pick up under your palms. His tiny sighs of contentment gradually grew more labored. They were deeper, heavier, every now and then releasing as a shaky exhale. It made your nerves buzz with excitement, but you didn’t dare entertain the idea, not when making sure Cyno got some rest as soon as possible was of the utmost importance to you.
The lower your hand wandered, however, the more difficult it became to focus on your mission. You could feel his abdomen expanding under the sponge now, rising and falling with more urgency as you circled his stomach.
A weak grunt met your ears, just barely audible. When you looked Cyno’s way, you found him with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his eyebrows beginning to furrow, nothing like the peaceful expression he’d sported at the start of the bath.
“Almost done,” you promised him. “Can you spread your legs for me?”
He said nothing, instead sucking in an especially deep breath as the water sloshed around him, knees peeking above the surface and letting you know that he’d complied. Despite how he seemed to have braced himself for your touch, as soon as your hand dipped into the pool to brush the inside of his thighs, a poorly stifled whimper caught you both off guard. It was so high-pitched that you had trouble believing it came from Cyno at first, but the very obvious flush in his cheeks told you all that you needed to know.
Your mouth was practically watering with desire at this point, but still, you tried to restrain yourself, even if you were acutely aware of his hardening length bobbing in the water and brushing against your fingers. “Sorry, my love,” you whispered again. “I know you’re tired. Just a little bit more.” In an attempt to wrap things up as quickly as possible, you began running the sponge over his skin with more vigor. That, unfortunately, only seemed to make things worse for his growing problem, if the way his thighs suddenly jerked inward was any indication.
“N-no,” he swallowed. “It’s not that.”
You paused, hand hovering in place. “Is something wrong?”
“Please...touch me.”
Your heart skipped a beat. One breathless, hushed plea from him, and your resolve was effectively crumbled to pieces just like that. Even so, you refused to jump at the opportunity no matter how badly you wanted to—for his sake, if nothing else.
“What do you mean, baby? I already am.” You were thankful that by some miracle, your voice came out steady.
It only lasted for a second or two, but you could’ve sworn Cyno’s lips fell into a pout. He knew you were aware of exactly what kind of effect those words spoken in that innocent tone would have on him.
“More. H-here, please.” Was all he managed to say. He inched his hips up hungrily, breath catching in his throat when the tip of his dick made contact with your fingers. “It's too much to bear.”
You forced yourself to stay perfectly still—this time, not to test his limits, but out of genuine concern for the spent man. “Are you sure? You really need to get some rest.”
He was still refusing to make eye contact, so you reached out with your free hand to brush his wet bangs out of his face, cupping his cheek and urging him to look at you. His pupils were fully dilated, nothing like the usual sharp slits that could freeze his enemies in place with a single look. The pure desperation in them gave you his answer before he even opened his mouth.
“Need you more. Please, m-my love.”
This time, his stutter was for entirely different reasons, but it made you melt all the same, something between affection and arousal pooling in your gut. With a sympathetic noise, you slid your hand along his pelvic bone before finally curling your fingers around his cock. Cyno’s reaction was immediate. A gasp slipped out of him before he could think to stop himself, head falling back against your shoulder in pure relief.
“Poor thing,” you cooed. “You’ve been working so hard, haven’t you?”
He mustered a strained nod into the crook of your neck. “Ah…missed you.”
You pressed a kiss to his temple, spreading a warm, hazy sensation through his weary mind. “I’m here, baby. Let me take care of it.”
His length twitched needily in your grasp as you began to pump it. Even with the warm water engulfing you, he felt so hot to the touch, waves of body heat rolling off of him as more and more blood began rushing to the spot where he craved you most. Within just a few strokes, he had grown fully hard, heavy and pulsing in your hand with the tip of his dick peeking out above the water, just enough for you to see.
He sank his teeth into his lower lip, trying to muffle a moan as you picked up the pace with every addictive twist of your wrist. Ripples began to break the surface of the water, both from your rhythmic movements, and the helpless squirms that Cyno couldn’t suppress no matter how hard he tried. He typically prided himself on his self-control, but now, mind clouded with bliss in the safety of your embrace, he didn’t stand a chance.
To steady him, you slid your free hand down his body, trailing over his pecs and earning an adorable hiccup when you brushed over his nipple. It was stiff with arousal, so pert and cute, you couldn’t resist rolling your index finger over the bud. The choked sound that erupted in his throat didn’t disappoint, immediately encouraging you to repeat the action and coax even prettier cries out of him.
“My beautiful boy,” you whispered, so close to his ear that it made him visibly shudder. “So strong and brave, keeping everyone safe. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”
Your words were already enough to make his brain melt, but on top of that, you coordinated your hands to pinch his sensitive nipple just as you squeezed down on the base of his cock. Cyno groaned so loud that it echoed throughout the bathroom, immediately overwhelmed by all the different sensations at play. He was too worn out to muster up any kind of verbal response to your praises, and the pleasure coursing through his veins only made his thoughts all the fuzzier. All he could do was tilt his head back uselessly, jaw clenching and hips bucking into your fist.
With his neck on full display, you took the opportunity to latch your mouth to it. His pulse raced wildly under your lips as you pressed slow kisses into his skin, hot and wet and dizzying. You dragged your fingers playfully along the underside of his dick, earning a low, drawn-out whine from him before stopping to pay special attention to its swollen head. You flattened your palm around the tip and began circling rhythmically just as you sank your teeth into his skin. The fresh wave of stimulation caught him by surprise, so intense that it felt as if you’d set his whole body on fire.
“Oh, please,” he gasped. “That's good, feels so good.”
“You’re so good,” you mumbled, swirling your tongue over the patch of skin you’d just devoured. It felt raw and swollen, sure to leave a deep, noticeable mark blooming on his throat in the coming days. “My good boy, always doing his best for me.”
He whimpered something incoherent, your honey-soaked voice wrapping around his mind like a blanket. You knew as well as Cyno did that he’d never taken on his job for glory or acknowledgement, but your praise was an entirely different story for him. He would do anything to hear your sweet words of encouragement. They were enough to wash all the pain, all the burdens of his duties away in an instant.
Maybe it was cruel of you to overwhelm him when he was already so weak like this, but the chance to spoil him without any of his embarrassed protests didn’t come very often. After nibbling on his neck for a bit longer, you moved further down, peppering kisses along his traps and shoulders until you reached his biceps. They bulged even more than usual against your lips, tense from how tightly he was gripping the edges of the tub.
“This is how you protect us, hm? With these big, strong arms.” you marveled, licking a long, languid stripe along the curve of his flesh.
Cyno’s muscles flexed eagerly under your tongue, responding to the praise in a way his mouth couldn’t quite manage. Amidst all the water splashing around you, something thicker, stickier began to coat your fingers the more you stroked. Precum leaked out of his flushed head as you paused to thumb at his slit. He practically lurched forward, sure to have come undone in no time if you’d continued teasing it. To his relief you scooped up the oozing fluid, using it to add just enough slickness and pressure to your pumps that was agonizingly good.
“For you,” he managed to stammer out. “They’re—hah—all for you.”
Even when he was so far gone, he was trying his hardest for you. It simultaneously made your heart swell and gave you a power rush. One of the most powerful men in Sumeru, feared and revered by all, and here he was falling apart in the palm of your hands.
“My sweet boy. You’re perfect for me,” you crooned, trailing more kisses down his arm to soothe him.
Every pinch to his nipples, every drag of your teeth, every slippery glide of your hand sent a jolt of electricity through his senses. With the way his cock was throbbing, you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. And though you were devouring every little whimper your hands and mouth coaxed out of him, Cyno was having trouble controlling his reflexive thrusts as his orgasm drew closer, bucking up desperately in search for release. So, you moved away from his chest, leaving his nipples swollen and puffy, and instead slid down to press on his abdomen to keep him still.
The added pressure of your hand on his core only intensified the pleasure creeping up on him. He cried out your name, stomach muscles flexing wildly under your palm.
“C-close,” he tried to warn you. “Please, can’t—ngh—hold it.”
“Shh, it’s okay baby. Cum for me, let it all out.”
Cyno shuddered against your chest. All it took was a few more strokes, and suddenly his hips shot up out of the water with a long, broken moan. The sound of it sent shivers down your spine, so soft and sweet, yet so utterly sinful at the same time. You rubbed gentle circles into his stomach as he came, admiring the way his toned abdomen contracted beautifully with each wave of pleasure, spasming along with his cock as white ropes spurted out of him. His seed spilled out from between your fingers, pearly drops splashing onto his stomach and adorning his tan skin.
When the last few shockwaves had rippled through his body, he collapsed back into you, chest heaving. You took in the sight of him as his panting filled the room, not wanting to miss a single detail. His hair was beginning to dry, fluffing and curling up at its ends, draped over his marked up shoulders like snow. White lashes rested atop his cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss, forming a breathtaking contrast with the flushed skin of his face.
It took some time for Cyno to get his breathing back under control, but eventually, his lips—swollen and parted just moments ago to let out all the angelic noises that had rung throughout the bathroom—closed at last. You wiped the corner of his mouth with your thumb where a bit of drool had dribbled out, and he blinked up at you sheepishly. His eyes were softer now. No longer blown wide with lust, back to their warm, sleepy red haze from before.
“How are you feeling?” you murmured, twirling a lock of his hair around your index finger.
Cyno hummed shyly, still not quite back to Teyvat. Mustering all his strength, he leaned up to press a swift kiss to your cheek, leaving himself blushing even more furiously than when you’d had him climaxing into your palm.
“Thank you, my love.”
The two of you stayed like that for a while, with you tenderly washing up the mess you’d made of him until he was squeaky clean once more. When he finally rose from the tub on wobbly legs, he tried to insist on drying himself off, only for him to surrender shortly after when you caught him swaying from side to side as if he might fall over at any moment. He grumbled out several more disgruntled “thank you”s, even if it was obvious he was enjoying the attention. You made sure to be extra gentle as you ran the towel over his body—accidentally working him up again was the last thing you wanted when you could practically see his last bits of energy slipping away from him.
Your bed felt nothing short of pure heaven when you and Cyno at last collapsed unceremoniously into it, reminding you for the first time that night of how tired you really were. But as wonderful as the comfort of your head sinking into the plush pillows was, it couldn’t compare to the feeling of Cyno curling up beside you to slot your bodies together, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like you were pieces of a puzzle. The feeling you’d been missing for days.
Just as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, you were pulled back into the waking world when you vaguely registered the sound of Cyno saying something to you.
“By the way, I wanted to warn you. The other matra may come after me for what I did.”
His words caught you so off guard that your eyes snapped wide open. Before you had the chance to panic, however, you were relieved to find Cyno grinning up at you lazily.
“Oh?” you played along. “And why’s that?”
“I was resisting a rest.”
You couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed this time, letting your laughter slip out freely, much to his delight. “You spent four days thinking that one up?”
“You don't think I'm clever enough to come up with it on the spot?” he feigned offense.
Rolling your eyes, you pulled his head back against your chest before he could start with his arsenal of jokes that would surely keep you up for the remaining few hours of the night. Thankfully, it worked like a charm. Cyno nestled into you without question, drowsiness taking over as he inhaled your familiar scent. No matter how exhausted he’d been in your time apart, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep without the steady sound of your heartbeat in his ears.
