Chapter Text
Casper’s eyes refuse to meet yours. Your hold on his chin is difficult to escape from, however — so no matter how much his rubied orbs flit about, he’s left with no choice but to meet your gaze.
His sudden shyness is endearing. It’s as if he wasn’t coming apart on your hand minutes earlier, all flushed and squirming and desperate under your fingers, demanding and moaning and whining. It makes you crack a fond smile.
The male cradled against you fixes your frame with a narrowed look. “Stop smiling like that.” The ex-Reaper mumbles, still dedicated in avoiding your knowing stare. His breathing has settled, leaving his voice to regain the lost strength it usually carries.
“Like what?” You pull a quick pout across your expression, clutching a hand to your chest dramatically. “Am I not allowed to smile at you? The audacity!”
He rolls his eyes, and you chide the action with a flick of your thumb. Brat, you think with an impish look. But you like being one, don’t you?
His eyes flicker away once again. You reign in the desire to tease further, looking down at Casper, a warm, fluffed want overtaking you — he really is so sweet, but especially like this, more docile and filled with post-orgasmic haze. Your cute bratty boy, all embarrassed and red.
“Not cute.” He argues, but his voice is small, so it comes across as pouty. But, surprising you, Casper reaches out a shaky hand and touches your cheek, the frame of the man arching over and pressing a kiss for your lips, pulling back quickly, melting into the bedsheets like he’s hoping they’ll open up and swallow him whole. “U-um, but, when you aren’t being overly annoying, I find you to be… quite cute. And your thoughts are… endearing. But still weird.“
The sudden admission astonishes you, a jolt of excitement racing down your spine, torn between wants. Huh, what? Should you speak, or thrill in the fact that Casper kissed you? Schooling yourself, you let the pleased, genuine smile conquer your lips. “How about we both admit to being weirdly cute to each other?”
Casper’s red eyes gleam under the warm lamplight. “But one of them isn’t true.”
“But it is,” You smile, tapping your finger against his forehead. “Haven’t my thoughts made that clear? I find you adorable. My sweet little thing.”
His throat bobs once again, lips parting, but nothing escaping him. Concluding the message was received, you wrap your arm around his body, rolling on top of him in a quick movement — Casper goes easily, a quiet yelp slipping free, orbs widening at this sudden development. “Mm, so cute, sprawled out beneath me. My cute little Casper~!”
He flushes darkly, face crinkling, “Why are you so weird? Can — can you just—?”
You tilt your head in a show of thought, a hand starting to trail across his sensitive side, settling comfortably on his bare hip. “Can I just… what?”
“Just!” The ex-Reaper squirms, so you settle him by gathering his wrists in your hold and pulling them up and above his head, spurred in how his pale face scorches scarlet. You know Casper has impressive, inhumane strength, but like this, his thrashing is equivalent to a temperamental puppy.
“Just…?” You prompt teasingly, applying a grain of force behind your hold. You watch as he bites his lips to stop them falling open, his legs wriggling and his spine twisting, but he’s mostly pliant under your hands. The arch of his back lifted his hips, generating the softest of friction between your two bodies, taunting your weight against his hardening, wet shaft, but not enough for anything substantial. “Go on, Cas, good boys always finish their sentences. What do you want?”
“Nnnn,” He whines unintelligibly, his gaze fixated on your shoulder, the embarrassment at so obviously enjoying being pinned by you burning on his expression. “You… you said… a reward?”
Clicking your tongue, you make an inquisitive hum. “Hmm, did I?”
His teeth pluck further into the soft flesh of his lips, a frustrated line building on his forehead. “A-ah, you did, so stop—”
You use this moment to press your pelvis against his, sinking Casper’s laxing frame against the bedsheets. Really, he shouldn’t be this easy to tease.
“Stop?” Loosening your grip tauntingly on his bundled wrists, you sit up once again, ignoring how Casper tries to follow, hips and chest raising. You stop the pathetic attempt with a sharp glare, smiling sweetly. “You mean, stop touching you?”
“No,” He moans, hissing out the words through his pressed lips. “You know what I meant.”
“Don’t be stubborn then.” You snap back, letting the fake honey melt from your speech. His eyes flinch wide, crimson ruby fitting to a deep maroon, swallowed by the lake of his pupils. You know you need to press, just a little, or else he’ll never work up the nerve to tell you. Your fingers twist and tighten again. “Or I’ll simply match you. I can do this all day, y’know, so no need to be shy. C’mon, baby,” Your voice rumbles to a low baritone, and you know you’ve won when the ex-Reaper nuzzles his cheek against the covers, a frustrated exhale raising his chest.
Casper mumbles under his breath. Despite the proximity, it’s impossible for you to make out his words, so you make a show of leaning in closer, dusting your nose against his.
“…not shy.” He utters quietly, staring off past your head.
You roll your eyes. “You always need the last word, don’t you?”
He doesn’t reply to that, whether out of thought or result of your words, you’re left unsure. That famine of more still simmers under your skin, pulled taut between you, pulsing through your connection, along with the bubbling nerves. In an attempt to ease him, you pet a soothing hand through his hair, humming as his tensing shoulders lull once again.
“I want…” Casper starts, trailing off, and at his tone, every vein in your body lights aflame, like your pumping blood was mere coal, waiting for the match of Casper’s words to funnel it to life.
Once you discover fire, you can never part from it. It feels too good, and feeling good, especially now, is being alive.
He sounds so soft, you muse internally, forgetting your thoughts are currently not private, grip tensing and laxing as you watch his mouth fumble, wetting his lips with that dexterous tongue. He’d look so good squashed between my thighs, putting that tongue to better use…
There’s a very unmasculine squeak from below you, and Casper’s mouth shutters open and closed, words tricking away like flowing water, leaving his lips moving around nothing. You find your gaze stitched to them, swallowing a saturated sound that fights to pass up your throat.
Like gravitational force compels him, Casper invites himself in closer. What lurks behind the cloaked simplicity of shadows marrows and stews in Casper’s eyes, blinking along the wet gloss, and despite the darkness, his eyes remind you of the sun. Or perhaps the moon? After all, it’s your brightness that keeps him going, you can’t help but think selfishly. Touched by the moon, forever left to yearn for it.
The ex-Reaper’s face flickers through an array of emotions, and you find your mind stuttering to a halt. He stares into your eyes like your thoughts aren’t enough, assessing the ghost of something you find yourself nervous to question. Even though you’d consented, hell, suggested this whole sharing thoughts idea, you’re left feeling… exposed. Ashamed? Sometimes, it’s difficult to stop yourself.
“It’s okay.” Casper says, a heavy note to his voice. He clears his throat, and in a lighter pitch, he adds, “I… I understand.”
The words are enough. A weight lifts from your chest, and you manage a smile, swallowing back any stray thoughts. That possessive, ugly thing always rears its head when you least expect it. You wouldn’t ever wish to taint this experience with desires like that; Casper deserves better.
But he’s still surveying you, face difficult to read. His eyes narrow, the soft look melting out of his gaze.
“I want you to be honest with me.” He says quietly, like even uttering the word want is taboo. Hell, perhaps it always was. “I… I don’t want you to hide things… for my comfort. I just want all of you.”
And, oh. Your hands retreat, grip slacking, but Casper keeps them stationed above his head. Your smile becomes genuine as you stare down at this bundle of ex-Reaper below you, chuffing and shaking your head. “Only you could turn a lewd request into something strangely sweet like that.” You press a chaste kiss to his collarbone, turning back to meet his gleaming eyes. “But the same goes for you. You don’t need to hide stuff from me. I already deal with your annoying antics, so what’s a few more, right?”
“Thank you.” He says flatly, but you can feel his amusement and relief. “I am glad I’m the only one here with annoying antics.”
“Mhm, yep.” You curl your smile, giggling at the way Casper’s eyes narrow. “Glad you admit it~!”
Casper, with all his dramatics, flops his head to the side with a groan. “No, I was being — ugh. Never mind. Good job. You killed the mood.”
The smirk only continues to grow across your face. “Hmm, did I?” And with a wisp of your hand, you draw patterns across his stomach, noting how his erection is still very prominent, despite the words and teasing. “No way, Cas… do you, perhaps, have a crush on me?”
“I think I’m going to lose it.” Casper says very seriously, scrunching his eyes shut like it’d succeed in blocking you out.
“What, your erection?” You add, “Or your secret repressed feelings for me?”
“Both.” He groans out in misery, but you see the twitch of his lips, and his cock is still half-hard. “Maybe my sanity, too.”
“Uh-huh,” Your dainty touch turns into a palm, tugging up his thin, cotton shirt, revealing pearly white skin just begging to be decorated with colour. Red looks so good on him, after all. “I’ll make sure you lose that later.”
His elbows twitch, shoulders meeting his ears as his body tenses once again. He surprisingly looks more skittish about the reveal of his upper half than his lower. And wow, isn’t he pretty. While you wouldn’t call him slim, his chest is more toned then you’d assumed… but his waist…
“Oh my god.” You can’t help but utter, and as your eyes drift upwards, your brain moves faster than your mouth can filter, “Small grabable waist. And you have breasts. This is a dream come true.”
Like a goldfish, Casper’s mouth falls open, and that familiar blush returns in full force. “For once in your foolish mortal life could you please shut up?”
“But it’s true!” You gasp, and you tuck his sleep shirt up and over his pecs, the noticeable mound adding to your point. “Look, it stays up. Holy shit. I mean, I sort of figured, but actually seeing it…”
The ex-Reaper’s hands fiddle and fumble above his head, his throat bobbing under the scrutiny. You tug once again at his shirt, smiling when he grumbles and his hands finally, finally, drop back down to assist in taking the offending fabric off. Interesting. We’ll come back to that.
The man lightly slapped you on the back of the head, more out of what felt remarkably like affection than reprimand. He tosses his shirt to the side, the material slipping off the edge of the bed. “Hush.” He chides, but you can’t tell what part he’s criticising, blush painting his cheeks.
For once, you decide to listen, as you’re more invested in acting upon the new, uncharted territory you’ve been given access to then blabbing on in your familiar banter. You slide your fingertips down the lines of Casper’s neck, lingering in the hollow of his throat, observing with a keen interest how he reacts — he seems a bit lost on what to do with his hands, now that there’s no sleepwear left on his frame to twist, so he settles with the bedsheets, orbs lingering on the stretch of your arm. There’s still that ever present nervousness, but a warmth of ease is filtering through your connection, a sway of comfort and trust that neither of you can place into words, but now dithers in the space between you.
You move to touch down his sides, head knocking forwards, ghosting your lips together. Casper lifts his chin to keep the invisible thread connecting you intact, and you’re warmly surprised when he initiates the kiss, breathing deeply and exhaling in pleased relief, more tension seeping out of his frame. Happy to comfort him, even if he’s too proud to admit it in words, you return to teasing circles with your thumb, rubbing into his hips as you settle between his legs.
“Mmn,” You hum, pressing on the ex-Reaper’s chest to settle him back against the bed, smiling as he melts easily. “Cas,” Murmuring, you tether away from his lips, catching him by the chin to draw his attention back to you, ruby eyes lidded and flittering. “How far do you want to go?”
Looking dazed from just a kiss, Casper wets his lips, as if recalling the feeling. He swallows as his eyes fog, heat building on his face again, pointedly looking downward as he whispers into the air, “I told you to try me.”
“And you want that?” You ask quickly, not wanting to push him, but at the same time, so desperately wanting to test that brink of how much he can handle.
Perhaps Casper senses that. Like the word want silenced him, he shakily nods his head in a brief jerk, wet breath catching your skin.
“Words, babygirl.” You growl out, feeling feral at the prospect of getting what you’ve wanted for weeks, what you’ve daydreamed and imagined in your own time, bringing and igniting those coiling desires to life.
And just like that, he folds. “Ah, yes, I-I, please—”
God, do you want him to beg more. If he already sounds this gorgeous, how will he sound when you actually get to fuck him?
Casper muffles whatever pathetic sound he was about to make as you dip your mouth to his chest. Your teeth graze his puckering nipple, tongue swirling a greedy stripe, enjoying how his muscles clench in surprise, a hot jolt rushing through his chest. He mewls as your fingers pull and pinch, sharpening the buds until they ripen into pretty pink berries, swollen from the vigorous attention. Satisfied for now, you move down his body, squeezing his chest and stomach simply because you want to crop a feel, spreading his thighs with perhaps more force than necessary, admiring your previous handiwork.
His hole is still wet and shiny with lube, inner thighs slick and sticky. You knead a mound of his ass, fingers stretching and pulling the damp skin, and a glob of lube trickles out of his hole, squirming down to further dirty your bedsheets, and you have to bite your lips furiously to stop any horribly indecent thoughts from possessing you to hasty actions — this will be Casper’s first time. It’ll be better to keep things simple… for now.
“Take a moment,” You say, leaning up to press a reassuring kiss to the ex-Reaper’s pretty lips. “I need to get us some things, ‘kay?”
“Mhm.” Casper hums, sounding distant, like he’s floating on another planet. He probably didn’t hear you, but all well.
You stand quickly, bustling over to the bathroom, taking a few calming breaths to ease the excited patter of your heart — or perhaps this tight anticipation is instead Casper’s? It’s difficult to tell, your feelings moulding together in a complicated puzzle. Opening your cabinet drawer, you pull out a fresh bottle of lube, a few condoms, though you debate on whether you’ll use them (you’ve already created quite the mess, so what’s a bit more?) along with a damp face towel, since the mess on his stomach felt like it was starting to dry…
Well, you’re about to wreck him even more, anyway. Swiftly, you remove your shirt and pants, rummaging in another drawer as you get yourself ready. Then, collecting everything you’ll need in your arms, you venture back out to greet Casper, unceremoniously dumping everything down at the end of the bed.
He makes an inquisitive noise, but doesn’t bother in raising his head, allowing you to settle back into your previous positioning. His chubbed cock bobs wantonly as you wetten your fingers again with the fresh bottle of lube, teasing the puffed muscle with dainty touches.
“Look at that,” You coo, slipping your thumb through the loose stretch, breaching his hot insides, “So loose from a bit of finger-fucking. Did you play with yourself while I was gone?”
“No!” He huffs out, squeezing tightly around the one digit, expression pinching at the accusation, “H-how dare you, ah, accuse me of such things — I’ll have you know that-mng…”
Whatever weak point he was protesting escapes him in a quiet muffle, your thumb crooking, a jolt bouncing up his legs. You’re certain you haven’t hit his prostate with your short thumb, but he must like the digging stretch, because he bites his lips and swallows when you make another jab downwards.
“…!!~” Some sort of high pitched squeal punches out of his frame, and you can’t manage to pinpoint how he made it, for the life of you. It sounded a bit inhuman… and also very cute.
You giggle, twisting your thumb and tugging it out, observing how his hole gapes, “All worked up from just a finger… hmm, maybe we should stop here. Surely you wouldn’t be able to handle anything else, if just this is causing you pleasure?” And, knowing Casper will rise to the bait, you lean down and blow a cool breath over his twitching prick and soaked hole, keeping his thighs parted when he instinctively moves to slap them shut.
He groans lowly under his breath, unable to bite down the undignified noise before it escaped his throat. “Stop teasing me.” He snaps out, squirming uselessly under your hold. “You promised me a reward… so you better follow through.” And he steels his expression, a quick battle waging across his face, before it fizzles out, something determined and so Casper-like dressing his gaze.
“Touch me.” He mumbles, but the words are fitted with that familiar confidence. You can’t help the way it makes you smirk; you’d missed this side of him, buried beneath all that worry and anxiety for these past few weeks. You always knew he’d put up a fight, and you’re so excited to tear down all those barriers, until he’s nothing but a cock-drunk, pretty doll for you.
“Good boy.” You all but purr out. Then, not giving him much time to think, you steal a quick swipe down his cock, tongue flattening teasingly along the base.
A violent shiver breaks down his body, and Casper buries his face against his pillowcase. “Ah!? W-wha—” The embarrassment coats his voice, hips bucking at the tantalising feel, so you treat him a little more with your talented tongue, smirking as you wet your mouth. This will be fun.
Guiding your mouth to align with his dribbling tip, you catch the bubbling pearl of pre with your lips, swallowing the bulbed slit down into your throat. Casper’s nails rake down his thighs, crescent moons mellowing against his skin, deep gasps of air breaking past his lips.
“I, holy shit,” He breathes out, rubied orbs fluttering open and closed, like he can’t decide whether he wants to bask in the pleasure or watch your mouth swallow him whole. “Su-Sunshine~ hah, slow down…”
You release his cock with a lewd pop. “Aww, are you close? All I did was play with you for a bit.” Rubbing his slit against the hollow of your cheek, you feel the pressure coiling in your stomach, simmering through your connection, and suddenly, an idea strikes you. “Hmm… you know, with our connection, I wonder if I could make you cum by simply imagining all the vulgar things I wanna do to you…”
“Please don’t.” The ex-Reaper breathes out quickly, his legs quaking a little.
Casper has much to learn you muse with a smile. Whenever someone tells you not to do something, all it does is compel you even more. But before he can start to panic with the wisp of that thought, you reassure him with a soft peak to the line of his shaft, lifting your head as you survey how you wish to take him. You’ll treat him well for his first time. But after that, well… fair game.
With a mischievous giggle, you fondle his thighs, giving his ass a playful slap. “Front or back?”
His gaze meets yours with an unimpressed look. Okay, so no ass-slapping. Maybe when he’s too horny to care it’ll be on the table. “What? And can you stop thinking about my ass?”
Oh, you hadn’t realised you’d been staring so intently. Patting the swell of skin carefully, you meet his exasperated stare. “Do you want to be on your front or back? Also, no, I can’t. You’ve got five seconds to decide, by the way.” You add, raising your brow, pointedly counting in your head.
“Front!” He shouts, already rolling to escape your stare. He grumbles his complaints into his arms, ears flushing pink, and you take this treasured moment to admire his state.
His long, silky hair slides down the waterfall of his back, a few rouge slips draping across the expanse of his shoulders. You guide his hips, lifting him to bend on his knees, promenading the slant of his back, the arch spilling his hair to bundle along his nape and shoulders, fanning down to his arms. He really is unfairly breathtaking, both in the figurative and literal sense, you consider with a chuff. Though, the only breath he’ll be taking now is yours.
Mine, you think, rather possessively, before you’re able to chide yourself.
Casper’s lips break with a quiet moan, hips squirming, like your thoughts are pinning him against the mattress.
“Of course you like that.” You scold playfully, rolling your eyes. Perhaps a bit of possessiveness is fine — he’d said he understood before. What types of possessive thoughts does Casper have about you then?
The ex-Reaper’s fingers twist and knead against the pillow. You enjoy how his legs quiver against your palm, how the trembling heightens when your fingers dance to his loosened hole. You unceremoniously shove two digits in, testing the stretch, and perhaps it’s the position, because the slide seems easy, hole swallowing your fingers down to the knuckle.
Slutty… the dip of his back follows through your fingers, a prominent arch downwards that makes you bite your bottom lip and refocus. You can test that bend later… hopefully Casper is flexible.
Instead of abusing his prostate like before, you focus on opening him up for your cock. His sounds muffle into the skin of his arms, and you catch your name and a few quiet threats meddled within whatever babble he’s uttering to himself, wet squishes of thick lube filling your ears.
“Mnnh, guh,” Neck tilting, Casper attempts to glance back at you, but you settle him with a firm palm on his hair. “H-hurry please, ahh… hah, no more teasing. No more.” His voice chokes wetly, hands scrambling like it’ll make you move faster, hips bucking back against you.
“Hands above your head.” You instruct, smiling when he complies with little thought. “Good. So obedient. Make sure they stay there.”
“I—“ He sounds like he wants to argue this point, but doesn’t get the chance when you spread your fingers, thumb tracing around his puffed rim. “Mnf-you really think I’m going to—“
“I do.” You cut off, smile twisting to a smirk. “Because you just did it, didn’t you? And if you want my dick inside you, I suggest you listen, yeah?”
Some of the daze leaves Casper’s voice. Then, with an element of cockiness only he could pull off in this moment, his cheek drapes against the mattress, muttering, “You’re funny if you think that.”
Your brow raises so fast it disappears into your hairline.
Right, that’s it. He’ll eat those words.
Perhaps if you’d been clearer of mind, it’d occur to you that he’s obviously riling you up. But this mind connection makes Casper’s desire squirm in your belly, your own sex starting to ache, so you figure it’s time to get this show on the road, as fun as teasing Casper is for you. Really, you could do it all day, but…
You pop the cap of lube open again. And, like a trained dog, the ex-Reaper’s head lifts like the sound is classically conditioned into his brain, his back arching just a bit, and you can’t help but swallow, eyes raking across porcelain skin. Thin waist, flat stomach, sharp hip bones… slender and toned, elegant and long. Even his cock is pretty too — pink and dripping for you, bobbing lazily between his bent legs, curved with the weight. Casper’s head balances to the side, watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, posture stiff but his muscles relaxed. Despite all the banter and talk, he really does trust you, and it only properly hits you in that moment.
“Deep breath.” You murmur, slathering your shaft until it’s unclear whose dripping more; you, or Cas. Then, circling around the red rim and teasing the tip inside, you press forwards, comforting hand on his spine to keep him steady.
“Hn!” Casper gasps, your groins striking with a damp squelch. You’re almost all the way in now… it was suspiciously easy, making you wonder if this really is his first time taking cock, observing how he relaxes against you, completely offering his body to you and the whims of gravity. His upper half has curved, giving you a great shot of his face, gazing blearily at you, fogged orbs lidded, neck tilted uncomfortably.
Then, lips parted, Casper smiles. Turning further to divert his abdomen to the attention, his weight shifts to prop his lowered upper half on his shoulder, cupping his stomach with one hand and forming a little circle over his tummy, as though tell you, here. Thrust here. Make this part of me bulge out…
Fuck. Your own personal siren… really, at this point, you can’t be held accountable for your actions.
Ignoring the wisp of mischief bubbling through the connection, you ease in further until your hips snuggle against his ass. You grant him the moment as you both collect your scattered breath, hunching over his trembling form, watching as he tries and fails to stop his legs from shaking. Both his hands latched onto the sheets and twisted on either side of him, white-knuckled. You take in how the crook of his elbow is red with bite marks, teeth imprinting on the irritated skin.
“Don’t do that.” Whispering, as if speaking any louder would shatter this moment of connection, “I want to hear your pretty voice as I fuck you.”
A whine leaves his throat, breaking at his lack of air. His usually cool skin has warmed under your attention, lips parting again, flushed all the way down to his chest. “Ohh… ohhhhh,” The sound drags out of him with the pull of your hips, the friction rubbing against his walls, until the slit of your cock pokes out from where it’s tucked snuggly inside him.
And then, there was no hope for Casper. You slide out of him, slowly, again and again and again, teasing him with the taste of more, but leaving him gasping and wanting, left with the crumbs of what you’ll give him. You chuckle at his hopeless attempts of fucking back into you, desperate for something fast and rough, but, well. It’s your first time together — he’ll get it gentle whether he likes it or not. At least for the first orgasm. Maybe if he’s good enough he can convince you otherwise.
“Please,” He groans out, perhaps hearing that thought. He already sounds debauched, white hair messily painted around him. “Pleaa-ssssee, I-I — ‘m… ah, ung—!”
“Yeah? What’s that?” You growl, low and panted with rising exertion, thrusts gaining momentum, lube squelching and squishing between your bodies, “Please what, baby? You want more?”
Either the pet-name got to him, his sanity really is declining, or it was a simple slip of the tongue; either way, his response wasn’t what you’d expected.
“Mommy~! Yes! Faster!” Casper pants, and, catching his expression, you take in how his eyes have rolled back, frame melting under yours thrusts. “Yesyesyesyes… ah… uhm…”
Reality comes crashing back. His face blooms rapidly while your jaw stretches wide, gaping in surprise as your brain catches up with the rest of you. Did… did he…
“That’s — I didn’t!” He says the words like he’s scandalised, face aghast, managing to look pale and bright red all at once. “Don’t you dare—”
He must expect you to laugh. You will admit the amusement crossed your mind, but honestly, you’re too horny at this point to care. So all you do is flatten your palm at the base of his spine, mouth quirked upwards, uttering in a honeyed, adoring voice, “Babygirl wants more? Mn? You want Mommy’s cock to fix you up?”
A pained, pitiful moan leaves him, bordering on a sob. Honestly, you haven’t decided whether the Mommy thing works for you, but you’re happy to play along, particularly when it causes reactions like this; chest heaving, beads of sweat starting to glitter against pale skin, the apple of his throat prominent with the line of his neck, lips the same shade of red as his eyes, kiss-bitten and swelling and his hole greedily swallowing you down again and again, puckering each time your tip kisses his rim, the oven of your body towering over his, hips starting to meet with a lewd plap! that sounds borderline cartoonish, your grip tightening on his hip.
Slow down, slow down some small part of you scolds, but every time you ponder this, Casper makes a feeble mewl (stray cat) and starts pawing at the bed frame like the noise will show his displeasure (stray cat), puddling in your arms when you comply with a deep sigh, (what a spoiled stray cat; tamed and docile and purring just for you).
“Look at you, what a mess,” Your hand trails to collect his wayward hair, wrapping the long length around your arm, past your elbow and gathering in your palm, like reins on a horse. “Come up now. You wanna sit on my thighs?”
A warm tingling settles in your chest, watching as the white-haired male tries to nod. You secure a hand across his chest, yanking him backwards by the rein of his hair, seating his back against your chest. Casper downright squeals, speared open by your cock, a desperate hand twisting across you to claw at your shoulder.
“Ah… ahh…” Casper’s fingers twitched, his voice turning shrill as he clenched around you… and then came, spraying glistening fluid over himself. “Ahh…!!”
This time, his climax hits you, instead of trickling through like soft waves lapping along a shore; your breathing falls heavy, eyelashes fluttering, bucking your hips to meet his rocking, deep grinds, ass rolling against your sex.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Eyes hypnotised by the alluring sight before you, palms squeezing the hollow of his waist, you grope his chest and fondle his slightly wilted cock, enclosing it in an oven of heat and leftover lube, and stroked. Casper cried out, a sob on his lips, as you assaulted his body with devastating touches. The same torpor of fog clouds across the link, overwhelming and painful but so fucking good that it stuns the both of you with its force, flutters through your chest and echos in his in return.
You’ve never felt so connected. In that moment, you feel as if you are Casper — his powerful lust encapsulates you, stinging your heart with your own desire, tangling together in a messy yarn of want and feelings that it becomes impossible to unravel what’s yours and his. Is the affection blooming within your chest Casper’s? Or yours?
Casper’s head lulls to the side. The gland of his neck gleams at you, so you cave to temptation, teeth sinking down to claim a bite.
“A-aggh!” His cock gushes pre, the ex-Reaper sagging boneless against you, words beginning to slur, “Fffuck, care-ful… don’t — nh! Ah! D-don’t… ohh, mnhg-ahn, ruin ‘m skin…”
That gets a chuckle out of you, abandoning his weeping cock in favour of fucking him, gooey fingertips teasing and pressing the moving bulge in his stomach, drawling the drag so he can really feel where you are inside. If he has enough coherent thought to worry about his skincare at a moment like this, then you’re obviously doing something wrong.
“You feel so good, babygirl.” You whisper against the shell of his ear, “Are you feeling good too? Do you feel where Mommy’s cock touches in your messy tummy?” With a cruel giggle, you change your angle and knead the bulge of your shaft, delighting when Casper arches into the touch, moans quietening from exertion, but still so breathy and full of want. “You gonna cum again on Mommy’s big cock? Clamp down as I kiss your pretty womb?”
“Ohmyhellsstoptalking,” He airs out the words in a single weak breath, squirming around you, clenching tightly and panting like he’s running a marathon. “Uhhgn ‘t’s ‘sho deep in me holyshitahh, mnh!” You see where pearls of sweat start to build along his nape, red welts of skin swelling from your combined efforts of him clawing at himself and your nails digging into his thighs and waist. And, holy shit indeed, you do feel like you might break him if you press any deeper, but somehow, each thrust only bulges the outline of your cock more, prominent shape scraping up his insides, banging against his prostate, punching cute little ah, ahh, ah! sounds from his loose hanging mouth, drool trickling and dripping down his neck.
Feeling your own breath start to dissolve, you wet your lips. “But you like it. I can feel how much you like it. Besides, you can’t lie. So just spit out the truth and don’t waste my time.”
Something in Casper seems to break at that. A wet, snotted noise pries free from his mouth, and at first, you can’t stop how your eyes widen, some of the haze lifting from your frame. Was that too far? But there’s no upset or panic or any emotion of the sort you can sense… only a deep sensation that you struggle to recognise.
Love, lust, embarrassment, desire, fear… and some others you can’t place. They all mix together in the cauldron of Casper’s emotions in that moment, and perhaps it all gets too overwhelming to register. He openly sobs, breaths fast and wet, and you reach around gently to cup his face, surprised when you’re met with a violent flinch and an array of tears.
“I… ‘m fine,” He tries, and you realise you’ve stopped moving out of worry. “…overwhelming.”
“Ah.” You exclaim, trying to get a grip on his emotions. His arousal is still prominent and jutting, and there’s a burrow of frustration buried within the complex swirl of everything… so it’s not like he wants you to stop. “Sweetheart, if this is about the Mommy thing, I really don’t mind that much — it’s kind of growing on me.”
“No!” He gasps like you spoke a forbidden word, lifting off your cock to twist around and settle between your legs, cheek pressing against your chest. A bit unsure on what to do, you decide on stroking his hair. “I mean, um. Ugh.”
Uh-oh, that’s his I’m-grumpy-about-something-stupid-you-did-but-also-endeared-and-I-won’t-admit-it tone. Casper’s eyes narrow into suspicious slits, but before he can complain or question how many weird sounding names you have mentally for his tones of voice (forty-six and counting), you cut him off. “What is it?”
That warm feeling emits from within Casper’s chest. A familiar cozy comfort that you’d gotten a tingle of before, but now blossoms in full force. His blushing face feels hot from where he’s actively trying to bury himself into your chest, ear tucked against your thudding heart, voice delicate and fragile but so sure and so Casper as he whispers, ruby orbs lifting to catch yours. “I love you, Sunshine.”
Your brain shuts down, and then reboots. A childlike excitement bubbles in your chest — he’s only said those three special words two other times before, so you treasure this giddy occasion in your heart. The fact that he physically cannot lie makes the words so much heavier. You beam back at him, bright and full of light, so much so that Casper squints, sensing the heighten in your energy.
“Love you too, Cas.” You bring him in for a quick kiss, but he takes the initiative in deepening it, slotting his tongue comfortably against yours, lazily enjoying the sensation. His emotions dawdle down, simpering to a low heat instead of an inferno, sighing deeply against you. You hope he can feel your emotions, too — you want him to really feel how much you care for him.
“Mnh, lie down,” You mutter against sweet tasting lips, wiping the dripping tears still trailing down his porcelain cheeks with your thumbs. “Wanna fuck you in my arms. Yeah?”
You watch his eyes blacken to pools of want. “Yeah.”
Casper flops to the mattress, rolling on his side as you join him. You sling his thigh over your waist, easily slipping back inside with little resistance. The position makes his walls clamp tighter, and you can’t hit as deep like before, but neither of you seem to mind.
It’s so much more intimate, gazing into his eyes, watching the fascinating shapes and expressions you can force his face into, how he lounges in your hold, tears still leaking from his eyes, head propped against your chest and the pillow.
You can’t stop your smile. “Pillow princess.” You tease, dusting rouge strands of hair out of his face, snorting as he shoots you a quizzical look, brows furrowing together adorably.
“…why would I want to rule over pillows?”
God, you love this stupid fucking dumbass. You don’t know why that made you horny, but it’s what causes you to yank the ex-Reaper in by the hair, melting against his lips as you fuck him deeply.
He lets out a ragged, shuddering exhale, moans growing higher and higher in pitch, becoming nothing more than desperate whimpers and bitten back sobs. His nails rake down your back as his legs quake, so responsive, fuck, so fucking responsive to you, reduced to a pathetic, babbling mess. Meaningless words of pleading desperation fall from gasping lips, aiming up somewhere towards the wooden bedposts and the scattered, messed sheets, head thrown back and arched into your waiting touch and thrusts. Pillow princess. You’ll happily worship him like one. Anything for your babygirl.
“Aww, shhh,” You coo, peppering kisses across the dust of his cheeks, wiping more flowing tears with small swipes and tender touches, murmuring as they path down his crumpled face. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart, Mommy is so proud of you.”
Casper hiccups, more pleasure-filled tears shaking out of him. “Mommy, please, a-a-ahh, ‘close, gonna cum-nmh, ang! Oohhh, ha~aah, M-Mommy, ’m good?” Glittering eyes flutter to yours, his dick rutting against you, looking completely fucked out like he’s in some form of sub-space.
That possessive thing rises in your abdomen once again. Actually, now that you think about it, you’re pretty sure he is. There’s only sensations flowing through the connection, no worries or thoughts or anything other then feeling and trust and you.
Has Casper been in sub-space before? It’s not common for a first-timer. On his own? That’s definitely not safe. Then with who?
“Yes, so good, of course you are baby, you’re my good boy.” You growl, kissing him sensually until he’s whimpering and trembling and his lidded eyes blacken enough that no slit of ruby can be seen. “My pretty boy. Mine.”
Something high and inhuman tears from Casper’s throat, voice linted with pleasurable despair. Casper’s hips jerk and twitch with each pulse of his climax, pelvic muscles squeezing and constricting. He lets out his loudest sound yet that has you worrying about your neighbors, gasping out, “I’m your good boy, I’ll be your good boy!” While he downright squirts pornographically all over himself, shining beads painting his chest, face, hair, and even your lips, cock drooling sensually.
Fuck, fuck. Your hips shake with growing force as you start to pursue your release, riding Casper’s high to further chase your own. His wet, leaking hole dripples with squishes of warm cum, adding to the wet slide of your cock fucking him open sweetly, so sticky and damp that he could easily pass as a girl.
You start struggling to bite back your own sounds, wrapping a fist around Casper’s soggy cock, pulling out his orgasm. His thoughts have gone fuzzy, completely overwhelmed by the indescribable feeling of your rough hand wrapped around his dick. Your touch is hot, particularly in comparison to his cooler skin, radiating so much warmth and heat and light. A calloused thumb runs over the slit to spread the teeming wetness across the crown of his cock, bringing out another sob, leg squeezing tighter from where it’s foiled around your waist.
“Hah…. ah… ah…. ahh…” His mouth drips with drool, glossed stare unfocused, but still so focused on you with an attention that makes that boiling connection between the two of you only heighten with that something, Casper’s long and dragged orgasm tipping your own, boarding of the brink of ecstasy, and then, Casper says, in a small, dazed voice…
“Full of your seed, unggh-please, fuck me, stuff me, yeah♡~!”
And, oh my god, even if it’s senseless babble, you want to so fucking bad.
You clamp your hot mouth around his nipple, sex pulsing and throbbing from the friction, hips flush against his reddening ass as you came. You blearily register Casper seems to be cumming again, wailing and crying, pathetically dribbling small wet globs down his wilting dick, hand fisted in your hair, the other thrown above his head, orgasm intense and devastating.
He feels your pleasure, you feel his, moans pulled from the pair of you. It’s like an endless feedback loop; his orgasm intensifying yours and vice versa, causing a strange push and pull between you, crashing over you, tidal waves swirling and dancing, white spots dotting your vision.
“Fuck.” You breathe out, once you feel like you’re capable of thought and words again. The ex-Reaper hasn’t seemed to of hit that point yet, panting furiously, flushed from head to toe, eyes closing and lulling. His face smooshes against you, muttering something in a language you don’t understand, but it sounds soft and warm, so the babble makes you smile.
“Good?” You check in after a few minutes, poking him to ensure he hasn’t drifted to sleep.
After a few slow seconds, his head lifts. “Mhm.” He visibly fights off a yawn, some of the daze leaving his eyes, returning to that sharp glow you’ve come to adore so much.
“Cute.” The word whispers out of you, laughing at how his face transforms so fast from sated to grumpy.
“…we aren’t starting this again.” He complains, rolling his eyes so heavily they could’ve fallen out of his head. “I’m tuning you out. Goodbye.”
“Nooooooooo,” You whine, clinging to him dramatically, “I need you! We need to brainstorm names!”
You keep your thoughts suspiciously empty. Casper lifts his head, raising his white brow. “Do I even want to ask?”
Perfect, he walked right into it. When will he ever learn? “For our soul child that you’re going to give birth to.”
It takes Casper a moment. Then, he looks down to his stomach, like he’s fearful to see a baby bulge suddenly spring out of nowhere, aside from the small bump where your cock is still outlined inside him. When he obviously doesn’t find one, his mouth gapes open and closed. “We are not — I’m not — can you stop going on about this!?”
“You need to get tested. You never know — we didn’t use a condom. Who knows what freaky soul magic is turning around in there right now.”
“I can’t—! T-This is not something we are discussing! Ever. What is with your obsession with this?”
“Do you like the name Steve? Actually, no. Steve is reserved for you only. What about—?”
“No, no! Shut up! No!!”
Laughing, you peck his droopy eyelids with your lips, unable to help yourself. His forehead comes to lean against yours, and you all too happily return the weight, displeased mutters leaving the ex-Reaper’s lips. Smiling, you let the silence envelop you, the busy passing of the world drifting away, leaving just him and you.
And, a few days later, he easily slips his hand in yours, lecturing you on your poor quality shampoo, the action so mindless that it doesn’t occur to him he’s done it until you tug him along and out the door so he can fuss about the isles, blathering your ear off on hygiene and skincare. But, even then, he makes no move to seperate, thumb swirling thoughtless circles in the back of your hand, shoving products in your face and insisting you purchase them.
You cave to a few of them. Only because it makes your babygirl happy. And only because you want to slip away and buy a few more bottles of lube while he’s distracted, shoving them to the bottom of your basket, taking great pleasure when Casper is forced to hand them to the cashier, ears splotching red.
He grumbles, giving you the silent treatment for the rest of the walk home. But his hand never leaves yours, even as you struggle opening the door single-handedly, avidly considering how you might’ve created a monster.
Well, he’s your sweet monster. Even as he struggles to navigate this new path, you know you’ll always stand beside him, gaze gentle with a warm smile kissed by the sun. Even if everything isn’t puzzled out yet, you’re glad to help ease this burden, and hopefully many more to come, his guiding light in a path once led in darkness. His soul and yours forever connected, forever entwined, bound in body and soul.
You’ll always be by his side, always. Just as he’ll always be by yours.
(And, in the many passings of the moon and sun, no matter the tribulations, Casper always is).