Sleepless (Part 1)
Asra Alnazar (The Arcana) x Female!Reader
Genre: (Y/n) can't seem to fall asleep and Asra decides to help.
contains: Dom/Sub Dynamic, Fingering, Choking
A/N: I wrote this about 2 years ago when I was deep in the Arcana fandom and crushing hard on Asra. I don't write much at the moment and a lot has changed in my life, but I thought why not post this old one anyway? I'm planning on posting a second part that I still have from back then and then I'll see if I continue it after that.
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"What is it, Darling?", he mumbles, his voice cutting through the soft crinkling of the sheets as you both move - you continuing the tossing and turning that had infected your limbs for half the night already, or so it felt, he to look at you with eyebrows knitted in concern.
"Are you not feeling well? Want me to get you something?"
His torso lifts off the mattress effortlessly only to be held back by your palm, quickly fumbled out from under the blankets. "No no", you whisper. "Thank you, Love. But it's nothing. I just can't sleep." Once again you turn, this time to lay facing him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders tightly and a slow exhale leaving your lungs.
"That doesn't sound like nothing to me, (y/n)." The moonlight dances on his neck, illuminating his lashes, as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes, lost in thought. "Why don't we go into the kitchen and have a little midnight tea? That helped you last time. I enjoy making tea, especially for you, my Love. As you know."
You chuckle and shake your head. "That sounds lovely... " Once again his torso lifts itself, once again you hold him back, sitting up under his attentive gaze. "But it's not like last time. I'm not sure tea would help me tonight."
The corner of his lip twitches up so lightly and at such a pace that you're not sure you actually saw the movement. He raises his eyebrow in concern, yet somehow like he's very well aware of what could help you. "Mmh", he hums, "Is that so?"
"What could possibly not be cured by a cup of tea?", he asks, letting his gaze fall to your lips.
When you don't respond, he lifts your chin with a finger, moving closer. "Huh, Darling?"
You stand his gaze, allowing your lips to form a smirk.
Sly eyes find your neck, collarbones, decoltee, and gentle fingers brush your waist before falling down towards the hem of your pyjama shorts. He lingers, hesitating, looking for signs of consent in you.
So you smile before letting your head fall back and eyes fall shut, and you relax, moments before his hand slips between the warmth of your skin and cool of the silk on your hips. You prepare for his hand where you want it most, almost feeling the touch, almost feeling the warmth of his fingertip dragging up and down, up and down. He stops instead.
"Oh no, Love. First of all, I want to hear you telling me whether you really want me to touch you there. Second of all, be polite and look at me as we unravel the secrets of your insomnia, won't you?"
With a blush on your cheeks and a sigh, you open your eyes and bring down your chin, looking at him expectantly. He taps your lips with his index finger and you cant help but smile. "Yes", you say, gently, looking at him with fascination as he cups your face. "Keep looking", he reminds you.
Your relaxed expression quickly fades as without a warning, he dips into your wetness, then pulls up his finger, then circles your clit in one smooth, quick movement. The pleasure is overwhelming, radiating throughout your body like waves. You can't help but let your lips part in awe as your eyebrows knit, biting your lip and letting your eyes fall shut. Your fingertips dig into his wrist, afraid he'll let go - and you want to scream, beg, cry when he does only moments later. Still attached to his wrist, you feel your hands being pulled up like a puppet, holding onto his arm like your last straw.
You're ready to complain, mouth heavy with questions, when the realization hits you. You closed your eyes. He had told you to keep looking at him.
"I even repeated myself beforehand."
You feel a strong hand grab your jaw when you don't respond within moments, forcing you to look up at his face, observing. There' s no anger painted on his features - amusement, rather, mixed with pure, dangerous, intoxicating lust.
"Did the insomnia affect your ears?", he whispers lowly, playfully concerned. "Or did you lose the willingness to follow commands that are given to you?"
You try to shake your head, but his hand holds your jaw in place. "Use your voice, "(Y/n)", he purrs.
"I- just", you stumble on your words, "I forgot. And it just felt so good and-" You break off, trying to avoid his eyes, but your gaze is limited with your head being held in place.
He notices your struggle and hums softly as you decide to look at his cheek. Picking up your gaze, he moves his eyes into your field of view.
His expression feels like an amused allegation and when you don't make any effort to defend yourself, he slides his hand down from your jaw to your neck. He grabs - lightly at first, then so tight you gasp and fail to hold back a moan.
"Does this help you remember?", he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. Dizziness corrupts your brain. "Does it?", he asks again, letting you inhale once before applying tight pressure again. You don't speak, even if you could. You just look at him and allow yourself to look as desperate as you feel. You'd be lying if you denied the pleasure that swirls up in your stomach, flowing into a pool of wetness between your legs. And so a noise - half moan, half gasp escapes your throat, and he's quick to let go. You inhale desperately, wrapped into the warm blanket of his careful gaze. This time, real concern is in his voice as he checks in on you. "Was I too rough? Are you okay?"
Still breathing heavily, you take his hand into yours as a response, leading him to wrap around your throat another time. No, you shake your head, "I liked it."
When he doesn't choke you again, you apply pressure to his hand, encouraging him, but now he's the one to shake his head. "Patience, Darling, not too fast. We do intend to get you tired after all, right?"
You feel yourself long for his touch not even moments after he pulls his hands from you completely, grabbing a pillow and making his way back through the tangled sheets to lean onto the headboard. Through eyes narrowed in confusion, you watch his moonlit frame get comfortable on the other side of the bed, away from you.
"Hm?", he makes. "All clothes off, then touch yourself."
