#sampo smut

[sampos-trash-panda]

I neeeeeed jealous possessive horny sampo. Trailblazer getting absolutely ravaged and claimed by her fool

Typed it on my phone as i drank my coffee. Enjoy :3

Public, hold the moan, dont get caught ;)

Stelle gasped, fingers clutching at the back of his jacket. His hips snapped against hers as her eyes rolled back. "S-Sampo," she gasped as he pressed her face into his neck.

"Ive got you, baby. Just let me...fuck," he grunted, holding her tight. His eyes glared down the alleyway, shuddering as he pressed harder against her. "Mine. Fucking mine."

"Yours," she moaned into his collar.

Her mind reeled. How did this happen? Was she hanging around Gepard too much? Was she yapping Dan Heng's ear off?

Whatever the case, Sampo dragged her into shadows and kissed her like it would be his last moment alive. His fingers worked magic until he finally tugged her panties aside.

"So good for me," he grunted into her ear. "Stelle."

She keened, heels digging into his ass as she bucked against him.

"Mine," he growled, gloved fingers finding her clit.

Whatever it was, she needed to find out just to do it again.

[notesfromthemirror]

Hellooo I really like your writing (particularly your mydei pieces🤭) so I was wondering if you could perhaps write something for sampo? like he and the reader (fem preferably) have been dating for some time and they finally have some down time together with no missions or schemes and get to indulge in some slow sweet love making~

For Once, Nowhere To Run (Sampo x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hi anon! :) First of all, I’m glad you enjoy my writing (haha, yes, I can see why you’d like the Mydei ones in particular. :D). Thank you for this request. It was such a sweet idea. I’ve never written for Sampo before, but this felt right for him: still playful and charming, but stripped of the performance, with all the tenderness underneath. The way you phrased it—“slow sweet lovemaking”—made me want to write this as intimate rather than completely explicit. I had a lot of fun exploring this softer side of him. He deserves to be loved this gently. I hope you will enjoy it. :)

MDNI (Minors Do Not Interact)

Tags: Female Reader. Soft Intimacy. Established Relationship. Tenderness, Vulnerability. MDNI. Smut (Slow and Sweet Lovemaking). NSFW. Emotional Connection.

Word count: 1450

___

The night is still.

No deals. No schemes. No one to fool.

Just you and him, sitting in the soft hush of a lantern-lit room that smells faintly of oil and ash. The wind outside brushes against the windows like it’s too tired to knock, and for once, neither of you have anywhere else to be.

Sampo stretches lazily across the bed, half-grinning as always, a lock of indigo hair falling over his eyes. “Can you believe it? A whole evening without somebody chasing me down, or yelling, or—gasp—asking for a favor.”

You smile from where you sit at the edge of the bed, fingers tracing idle patterns on the worn blanket. “You make it sound like peace is illegal.”

“Feels that way sometimes.” His grin softens, turning quieter, less practiced. “I’m not used to sitting still this long without waiting for something to explode.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Do you want something to explode?”

That earns a laugh. Warm, low, the kind that melts straight into your chest. “Depends. What kind of explosion are we talking about?”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth lifts anyway. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm, that’s one word for it.” He props himself up on one elbow, and something in his expression shifts. The usual mischief dims, leaving something slower, more honest behind. “Come here.”

It’s not a command. More like a request. An invitation.

You shift closer, your knee brushing his thigh. The air between you hums faintly with warmth and proximity. His hand comes up, fingertips grazing your wrist. Light, testing, like he’s asking permission even though you’ve given it a hundred times before.

“You look tired,” you murmur.

“Maybe.” Sampo leans back slightly, eyes searching yours. “Or maybe I’m just realizing I don’t have to keep running tonight.”

Something in your chest aches at that—the vulnerability tucked carefully between his words. You reach up, fingers brushing the line of his jaw. Warmth steady beneath your touch.

He catches your hand gently, thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles like he’s memorizing the shape of them. His usual smirk falters, replaced by something raw, almost reverent.

“You make it too easy to forget what I am,” he says quietly.

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze fully. “And what are you, exactly?”

He huffs a small, broken laugh. “Sampo Koski. A liar. A coward. A silver-tongued man who uses every opportunity that arises to make money.”

“Not right now,” you whisper, leaning closer until your forehead nearly touches his. “Not here. Not with me.”

Something cracks then. Invisible but unmistable. Sampo swallows hard, and before you can say more, his mouth is on yours.

The kiss starts playful, like him—testing, teasing, that familiar spark of mischief—but it deepens quickly, sincerity replacing swagger. His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s afraid to miss even a single breath.

You shift closer, hands splaying over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your palms. His skin is warm through the thin fabric of his shirt, his breath uneven against your cheek.

When he pulls back—barely, just enough to breathe—his forehead rests against yours.

“Still think I’m impossible?” Sampo whispers, voice rougher now.

“Completely.”

He laughs again, quieter, softer, and lets himself sink back against the pillows, pulling you with him. You go willingly, settling against him as his hands find your waist, your hips, tracing slow lines up your sides like he’s committing every curve to memory.

“I don’t deserve this,” Sampo murmurs against your temple. “Don’t deserve you.”

“Good thing I’m not asking for permission.”

His breath hitches—a sound caught somewhere between laughter and something more fragile. His hands tighten slightly, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

“You’re really something, you know that?” His voice drops lower, intimate in the quiet. “Make a guy think he might actually be worth something.”

You lean back just enough to meet his eyes. They’re softer than you’ve ever seen them.

No schemes, no angles, just Sampo.

Raw and real and right here.

“You are,” you say simply.

He closes his eyes like the words hurt, then opens them again, holding your gaze. “Then let me show you what that means.”

His hands move with deliberate slowness, fingertips tracing the hem of your shirt before slipping beneath it. The touch is reverent, almost hesitant, like he’s asking permission with every inch of skin he explores. When you nod, breathless, he helps you out of it. Careful, gentle, taking his time.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, and there’s no performance in it. Just awe.

Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, working them open one by one. He watches you the entire time, expression open in a way that makes your heart clench. When the fabric falls away, you press your palms to his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

He kisses you again. Deeper now, more urgent but still unhurried. His hands map your body like he’s learning a language he never wants to forget: the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the soft skin of your thighs.

When clothing becomes an afterthought, shed piece by piece with whispered words and shared smiles, he pauses. His hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You sure this is alright, sweetheart?” His voice is raw, vulnerable. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” you whisper, and the relief that floods his expression nearly undoes you.

He shifts, settling between your legs with a care that makes your breath catch. Every touch is deliberate, every motion slow and measured. He traces patterns on your skin—circles on your hip, lines down your thigh and then to your core—watching your reactions like they’re the most important information he’s ever collected.

When he finally slips into you and moves against you, it’s with a kind of fragile wonder. No rush. No performance. Just the quiet, trembling rhythm of someone realizing how much it means to be seen—and wanted—this way.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, one hand cradling your jaw while the other tangles with yours. “I wanna see you. Wanna see you when you—” He stops himself, swallows hard, voice breaking slightly. “When you forget the rest of the world exists.”

You do look. And what you see isn’t the smooth-talking rogue or the man who hides behind jokes and schemes. Just Sampo—flushed, tender, eyes dark with something that looks close to devotion.

The pace stays slow, almost agonizingly so. Every movement is intentional, every breath shared. He murmurs against your skin—your name, soft reassurances, broken confessions that sound like prayers.

“You feel so good,” he breathes, voice shaking. “So perfect. How are you so perfect?”

Your hands find his hair, his shoulders, pulling him closer. He responds with a shuddering exhale, pressing his forehead to yours as the rhythm builds. Still gentle, still slow, but deeper now, more urgent in its tenderness.

When pleasure builds between you, it’s not explosive. It’s gradual, like dawn breaking. Warm and inevitable and wholly consuming. He holds you through it, whispering your name like it’s the only word that matters, his own release following yours with a broken sound that he buries against your shoulder.

For a long moment after, neither of you move. He stays where he is—chest pressed to yours, breath still uneven, one hand tracing idle circles along your spine while the other remains tangled with yours.

“You’re quiet,” you murmur eventually, fingers combing gently through his hair.

Sampo hums against your skin, voice muffled and content. “Trying to figure out if this was a dream.”

“Do I feel like one?”

He lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze, and the softness there nearly steals your breath. “Yeah. But better. ‘Cause this one’s not running away from me.”

You smile faintly, brushing his hair from his damp forehead. “You don’t have to run, you know. Not from this. Not from me.”

Sampo exhales slowly, something easing in his expression—a tension you hadn’t fully realized he was carrying. “Guess I finally found a reason not to.”

He leans in, pressing one last kiss to your temple. Slow, lingering, achingly tender. Then, quieter still, he says,

“Guess I can’t call myself heartless anymore.”

And for once, he doesn’t turn the silence into a joke or deflect with charm.

He just stays—tangled with you, steady and real and present—as the world outside goes on without him.

For once, he’s not running.

For once, he’s home. ___ A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. :) MASTERLIST.

[luvlyycy]

silly puppy, he thinks. curling his fingers around your head as you pant against his neck, tail wagging so hard that you almost topple.

"sampooo.. feel's sooo good." you giggle, ears twitching as he chuckles in your ear, "good girl! gonna cum on my thigh? hmm?" he snuggles his face into your cheek. you're naked, rutting onto his suit pants as soon as he arrived home! you couldn't take it, you jus' missed sampo so much!

you nod and nip at his neck, earning a quick groan from him. his hands pull at your plump ass and drags your soaked cunt across his leg.

[luvlyycy]

sampo often finds himself in your bed, despite the fact you've broken up a few years prior. he finds himself splayed across your soft bed, your thighs locked around his head as you slowly grind against his face, fingers digging into the fat of your ass— it's good.

you moan out his name is soft little gasps. he groans out a 'fuck' underneath his breath as his nose bumps against your clit, his tongue slipping out to run against your hole then up to your puffy clit.

"i'm g'nna cum, sampo." you hiss out, your hands roaming across the headboard before gripping it, your eyes fluttering open and closed as he drinks up your juices.

"cum, cum in my mouth." he says before sucking in air between his teeth, eyes rolling into the back of his head— he hopes you'll squirt into his mouth. you moan loudly, half broken— it turns into a whine as you twitch against sampo's mouth for the umpteenth time. and he welcomes it, softly sucking on your puffy clit as you drench his face and neck.

nobody can make you cum like sampo can, and maybe that's why he often finds himself laid in your bed. the thoughts of making you his again, running through his head.

[ablondehoe]

Okay so Sampo won the poll. I’ll try and get smut out by next week. Just need to brainstorm some ideas. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, let me know

[lxves1ckfire]

SMUT!!!

Another drabble (ish) for Sampo (I am obsessed with him, no denying, no shame) Sampo Koski from HSR

Warnings: Uh...sex toys? idk, a pretty, way too handsome, tied up man (I'm totally sane about him) (English is not my first language!)

His muscles were bulging against the rope, glistening in the sweat that covered them.  His cheeks were stained with tears and a moan after moan slipped past his lips, echoing and bouncing off the walls of your shared bedroom along with other rather lewd sounds. His whole body squirming and jerking around at any friction against his skin. His face was red and his lips were puffy. He looked absolutely pathetic. Who knew this man of wit could be broken so easily, and so beautifully.

“Please,” He gasped, his eyes screwed shut.

Please, please, please,  he kept repeating like a broken record. What was he even begging for? He had no idea. He couldn’t think, not at all. Not when you’ve been torturing him for hours and  hours with no signs of stopping. The vibrator in his ass, the cockring around his cock, the fleshlight around it. He couldn’t. The pleasure yet the pain was so delicious and overwhelming. And you just watching him with that  stupidly attractive, smug smirk on your lips, that didn’t help either.

With how strong he is, you were surprised he hasn’t broken out of the ropes yet. The sight of his muscles tightening and relaxing over and over again was beautiful, that you had hoped the rope would keep him in place for a little longer. Though...what would he do to you if he broke free from them? Maybe in the future.

He whined as he felt you take the fleshlight and cockring off. Immediately grabbing his dick into your hands, you jerked him off, focusing on the tip. A string of almost yells and gasps followed from him as he came with thick spurts of cum covering his stomach and your hand. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh Go- Hnn...”

The sight of such a strong, smart, witty man tied down and taking all you gave him so good was truly priceless.

—LxveS1ckFire

[lxves1ckfire]

A small drabble for my beloved Sampo Koski

Smut!!! Sampo Koski from HSR, spanking, a lot of ass. We love butts!

(It probably (definitely) sucks and words repeat a lot, I was nervous writing my first thing for my blog, plus, English is not my first language, sorry 💀🙏)

Sampo Koski loves your ass.

He’ll lean back on the bed, or the couch, or anywhere, really, and watch you ride him. Bouncing up and down so prettily. He can’t help himself, despite you already struggling, to give a sharp spank to your ass cheek, only chuckling at your reaction. And he does that again, and again, and again. He’s obsessed with your ass, no matter how small or big it is, his hand is always resting on it, giving it a playful pat, or more. Also, he loves watching your ass jiggle. As much as he loves looking at your face and into your eyes, he wants to take from the back, from time to time, eyes trained at the way your ass jiggles with every rough thrust he delivers. Anything to do with your ass, he loves it. He loves you, but he also loves your ass <3

—LxveS1ckFire

[sugoibomb]

Fwb W/ Sampo <3

C!w: nsfw,f!reader, Tit fucking, reader has big tits, Sampo is needy, consensual, minors dnd

Authors note: First fic I’ve ever done so hopefully it holds up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seeing your friend was a rare occurrence; he was unpredictable and seldom found in the same place twice. So when he unexpectedly appeared in the middle of the afternoon while you were navigating Boulder Town's ever-changing streets, it caught your attention. His solid frame and well-groomed appearance naturally piqued your interest, and thus you were swept away by your friend Sampo to the nearest hotel.

It didn't take long before you two were stuck together by heated passion, eyes locked in a charged gaze, the air thick with anticipation. Sampo closed the distance between you two, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips brushed against yours, tenderly at first, savoring the softness. The kiss deepened, a passionate dance of tongues and heat, igniting a fire within both of you.. Sampo loved to tease, it was always a game. You being who you are always fell for the sweetness feeling your legs buck.

You melted into him, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You slowly move your hand lower, feeling the windows exposing his hips, playing in the divots of his frame. Your touch sends shivers down Sampo’s spine, every caress electric and intoxicating. Your breath mingled with his, Sampo slowly pulled away looking at you with half lidded eyes full of desire.

In an exhilarating rush, you feel his strong arms wrap around you, effortlessly lifting your body. The sudden sensation of weightlessness gives way to the soft impact as he carelessly tosses you onto the bed, where you land with a mix of surprise and excitement, the bed molding around you as you settle into the unexpected moment. He shifts on his knees on the bed looking at you with ragged breaths. Leaning his hips towards you, you become increasingly aware you weren't the only one who missed the other. You lick your lips as he moves his hands towards the constraints of his pants, pawing at his arousal.

You lean up to work your way to Sampo, but stopped by him pushing you back down on the bed. Lifting your shirt, he exposes your skin to the cool air, causing a shiver to run through you in response. The contrast between the warmth of his touch and the sudden chill on your bare skin sends tingles of anticipation down your spine, heightening the electricity in the air between you. You didn't even notice the bra you were wearing was already off your body and being tossed in some corner of the room.

He leans down towards your breasts littering them in kisses, almost drooling on the swells as he slowly trails down to your nipple. Clasping his mouth against it a hum of contentment was heard as he eagerly suckled, her eyes half-closed in peaceful concentration. The rhythmic sound of him sucking filled the air, accompanied by occasional soft sighs of satisfaction. His eyelids grew heavier, The familiar scent of your body and the gentle moans coming from you pulled him into a state of drunk contentment. His sucking slowed, becoming more intermittent as he felt you shiver under his body. With a final contented sigh, Sampo released your nipple, A trail of saliva connecting his mouth to your breast. His hand falling to your sides caressing the soft skin, He rises to loom over your hot frame, cheeks still flushed from the sight of your tits shining in the dim light of the hotel.

“Ya know’ your buddy Sampo is having a bit of a hard time… feel like helping me out.” He looks down at you onto the bed with dark eyes. He moves to free his cock from the confines of his pants, practically drooling precum once released. Sampo hisses at the sudden freedom, wrapping his hand around his member, giving it a couple strokes before spitting on your chest. You gasp at the sudden sensation, only to feel the assassin's hot member tuck himself into your tits. He thrusts into the separation of your breasts slathering his cock in the spit, along with spreading it around with precum.

A moan escapes your lips at the sight of your friend's cock sliding between your tits. You push your breast together to create some friction causing him to moan at the sensation, his thrusts becoming faster. You position your head down towards the member sliding against your chest, The sweet scent of precum and sweat filled the air as you moved down your tongue towards the tip, Savoring the first lick. The taste instantly hit your taste buds, sending a wave of delight through you. With each lick, the flavor intensified, making the man on top of you whimper at the sensation. The world around you seemed to fade away as you focused on the simple pleasure of making your partner cum. Occasionally, you would pause to admire the flustered and concentrated face your partner makes while he tries to rut into your chest. Sweat dripping down the side of his face, fully immersed in his own indulgence.

After what felt like an short moment of admiration you noticed a shorten breath and grunts. Hes reaching his peak. Grinning mischievously you took in a little bit more of your partner wrapping your lips around his tip getting slight swirls around the slit as he continued thrusting into your chest mercilessly. You hear a moan float out of his mouth met with a deeper thrust, the next moment he makes a series of babbling noises before finishing all over your plump breasts feeling the hot liquid spurt out of the still pressed together breasts. You release your grasp on your chest sliding your index finger along the trail of arousal he left behind, putting it in your mouth licking the finger clean, The last remnants melted on your tongue, leaving a lingering bitterness that made Sampo chuckle before grabbing onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.