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Your grim reaper is cute.
He’s shy. Soft and cute and oh, so inexperienced. He lets you take his hand, but looks the other way. He leans into your hugs and affectionate touches, but stammers complaints. When you tease him, he flushes red, and claims to hate it.
Well, tries to say he hates it. Casper can’t actually lie, now can he?
Nightly routine doesn’t change his behavior. Even curled up in the same bed, Casper is skittish. His eyes dart around uncertainly, cheeks a pretty pink. Breath picking up the closer you come.
Naturally, this means you snuggle right up against his back.
“Sunshine?” He asks quietly into the dark, shoulders tensing. “What are you doing?”
You spoon him from behind, his back pressed to your chest. You nuzzle your nose against the back of his neck. Your arm snakes around his torso, your leg wrapped over his own.
“Snuggling you.” You confirm cheerfully.
“Oh.” A pause. “Why?”
“Because I promised to, remember? If you were comfortable with it. Are you?”
The tension eases, a little. He breathes in more steadily, and tentatively squeezes your fingers with his own, over his stomach. You smile into his hair. Soft and pretty, just like the rest of him.
“Yes.”
You give an affectionate gesture of your own, rubbing your thumb against his stomach, just below his rib-cage. Even through his night shirt, it affects him. You can feel his shiver.
“Also,” you add softly, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, “because I love you.”
His hand spasms against your own, before letting it go entirely in embarrassment. The tips of his ears are red. His hand overs uncertainly over the sheets until they settle next to his face, gripping the pillowcase tightly.
“I… yes. I see. I, ah… you, too.”
“You love me too?”
“Yes. I also, clearly, hate you when you do this to me.”
You nip playfully at the skin of his neck, in reprimand. His next breath is sharp and sudden.
“Sarcasm.” You scold. He makes a vague noise in response.
Hm. He’s tense again. Not as verbal and biting – heh – as he usually is. That may have been a bit too far for him, yet. You turn the nibble back to a kiss, gentle and lingering.
“Sorry, baby.” You murmur. “You’re doing so well for me.”
He is. He’s adapting so well to this new life of yours – together. For as much as he struggles to receive affection, you never doubt his love for you. He fits into your life like a missing puzzle piece. He chases your loneliness away with constant, steadfast companionship. He’s fun to tease – very much so – but you would never want to actually make him uncomfortable.
At your words, Casper whines.
You pause, frozen in surprise. The lingering touches against his stomach stop. He makes another noise, this one a far more aggrieved sigh.
“Look – I’m – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you were just – touching – and – I can go sleep on the couch, it’s okay – “
“I don’t have a couch.” You interject, still dazed from the sudden jolt of arousal.
What was that, and how do you make him do it again?
“That’s your fault, not mine!” Casper shouts, tenser than ever before. He’s curling in on himself like a roly poly. This is less than ideal.
“Shh,” you hush him, instinctively pressing down on his stomach. Your full palm makes contact this time, instead of just a brush of fingers. Your hand splays out firmly across his abdomen and you push him back into you, pressing him securely into your embrace. You want him to feel safe. You want to make him safe, and you want him to make that noise again.
“I –“ He cuts himself off with a wheeze. You see his pretty white eyelashes flutter shut, as you shift to face him clearly.
“What is it, baby?” You ask him quietly. “Why are you acting like you did something wrong?”
“I – You –“ He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. You rest your cheek on the peak of his shoulder, waiting patiently.
“You didn’t notice?” He asks, just as quietly as you. His red eyes flicker to yours, then back down at the sheets. Cute.
“Notice what? That pretty noise you made?”
He huffs, but you notice that tiny little jolt at your words. You smile at him encouragingly.
“What is it, baby? Tell me.” You coax. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You’re really going to make me say it? Why are you like this? Sent from hell to torture me?”
You hum noncommittally.
“It’s – “ His eyes flicker down, past your hands, then up to the ceiling, as if searching for strength from they beyond. “I liked it, okay? I liked it too much. Now will you let me go so I can stop ruining everything?”
Oh.
He’s hard.
You got him hard.
You called him baby – you called him good – and he whined and squirmed and got hard in your bed. For you.
“Can I touch?” You ask, directly and immediately. Casper chokes, wide eyes snapping to yours.
“Touch?” He echoes faintly.
“Yes. I already told you before that I wanted to touch you.”
“But you were teasing.” He says dumbly.
“I was absolutely being serious.” You say severely, gaze boring into his. “You are so dumb.”
His nose scrunches, brows furrowing. “Shut up!”
“No.”
You kiss his nose scrunch. Cute.
“Now let me touch your dick.”
Casper makes a noise not entirely unlike a tea kettle. After a brief moment of deliberation – during which his eyes flick from the hand touching him, to your eyes, hurriedly elsewhere, to the strap of your night shirt halfway fallen down your shoulder, to your mouth – he nods.
“Okay.”
You take a deep breath, then smile.
“Okay.” You confirm.
You gently nudge him onto his back, and curl yourself up against his side. With your free hand on his cheek, you guide him into a kiss.
This, at least, he is familiar with. He relaxes a little more, for each moment you kiss him. His breathing gets heavier, his squirming worse. His hand clutches at the front of your shirt when you bite at his lip, separating from him enough to hear his gasp aloud in the otherwise quiet room.
He blinks at you, a little dazed. You smile, and lick your lips.
You return to your method of distraction, claiming his mouth thoroughly. As you swallow his – cute – little whimpers, your hand massages it’s way down his torso. You keep your touches light and gentle. You want him to feel loved, not tense. Any roughness can wait until much, much later.
You don’t touch him directly, yet. First, you slide his sleep shorts off, scritching lightly at his inner thighs along the way. His legs jerk a little open, at that, hips canting up slightly.
Oh, he’s lovely.
Bare and presented to you, you want to take in the view. Reluctantly, you part from his lips. He trails after you, seeking another. You indulge him once, twice – three times. Lightly dragging your nails up and down his inner thigh as you do.
“Babygirl, I want to see you.” You whisper against his lips, firmly separating him from the kiss with your hand on his jaw.
His half-lidded eyes spark at the nickname, his gasp audible. He squirms toward you, angling his body to your wandering hand.
“Be good.” You whisper, watching heatedly as his eyes grow more dazed. “Stay still for me. I want to see.”
The squirming stops. Mostly.
“Good girl.” You tell him. A guess, mostly. Something you think he’d might like, and if you’re right…
You’re right.
His eyes flutter shut, head tipping back only just. His breath stutters in his chest. You see his lungs heaving, rosy blush going all the way down his chest. You kiss the closest part of him to you – his chin – and look at your prize.
Oh, he is lovely.
Pretty and pink and hard and swollen just for you. He’s leaking at the tip, precum puddling at his bellybutton. He pulses upward under your attentive gaze, pretty purple vein throbbing. Gorgeous. It’ll be lovely inside you. You can’t wait to tie him up and ride him until he cries.
Well. Another time. That will definitely be too much for right now. He looks like he’ll come at the first touch.
Actually…
“You’re so pretty, babygirl.” You coo, sliding your finger into the sensitive little V of his thigh. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you trace them lightly with your nails.
Casper whines at the name, shivering.
“I love you so much.” You assure him, nuzzling your nose against his cheek. “You’re so good for me.”
“Love – you too.” Casper responds shakily, though you didn’t think he’d be able to.
He’s so cute. Not a word since this started, but he can’t pass up telling you he loves you. You adore him.
“If I touch you, will you come?” You ask innocently. Casper’s eyes snap open in alarm.
“No!”
“You look very close, is all. So cute and hard and tense.”
“Not – cute!”
He stutters on the delivery. Your nails dig in his soft thigh. His eyes flutter. Then, he glares.
“I thought you wanted to touch me?” He demands with a pout.
Oh, you love him.
“You’re so cute, babygirl. I just wondered if you were so worked up that I could make you come for the first time like – “
“A- aah…”
“Mhm, not yet, hm?” You observe with only a tiny bit of disappointment, trailing your fingertip from base to tip.
You tap gently at the spongy head, a thin trail of precum attaching to your finger. You swirl it against the head. Casper’s hips buck, and you take your hand away quickly.
“Please, I’m…”
“Hm?” You hum, pressing kisses against his cheeks, his neck.
“Please, just touch me,” he begs, “I’m so close – I don’t – I don’t want to embarrass myself –“
“Oh, you’re so cute.” You breathe, filled with affection for the man underneath you.
It would not be embarrassing if he came practically untouched. And even if it was, you like that shit. Regardless, you want him to feel safe and happy and good. You wrap the hand now covered in precum around him firmly, and stroke.
“Ah!” He gasps. “Sun – Sunsh -”
You hush him, pressing your lips against his. He bucks into your grip, moaning into your uncoordinated and messy kiss.
“Please, please,” He gasps for air, but you’re unrelenting, “please - ”
“So good, babygirl.” You murmur against his mouth, grinding your own needs against his knee.
He nearly bites your tongue off when he cums, but you manage to disengage just in time to bear witness. He arches prettily off the bed. One hand is fisted tightly in your shirt collar, the other twisting in his own hair. His jaw clenches, then drops open in awe. White shoots across his abdomen and onto his own shirt. It goes on longer than you anticipated, but you guide him steadily through it. When he calms enough to take a deep breath, you give his cock another firm pull, causing his legs to kick out with another roll of ecstasy.
“Please, mercy!” He gasps out when you do it again, pressing meanly against the head of his cock, just to watch more cum jerk out under your fingertips.
“You sure?” You ask innocently. “I think you can come again.”
“Sunshine.” He wheezes.
“I could use my mouth, this time.”
“Sunshine!” He whines, more urgently this time. Another shiver rolls through him, the last drops of cum dripping out of him. For now.
“Hm. Alright, we’ll pin that for later.”
Casper lets out a shaking breath of relief. After a moment, he uses the hand lodged in your nightshirt to tug you closer. With an oof, you land atop his chest heavily. His arms squeeze around you tightly, smushing your face into his neck.
You hum, pleased. Your legs tangle with his, and your arms settle snugly at his waist, uncaring of the mess between you. Comfortable silence surrounds you as Casper recovers. His deepening breaths lull you into relaxation. Your own need is secondary, in this moment, to the satisfaction of fulfilling his.
You don’t know how long you lay together in silence, until Casper speaks.
“I love you, Sunshine.” He says, with feeling. No stuttering. No sarcasm, no underplaying his feelings. Just love.
You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes, and snuggle impossibly closer.
“I love you too, my little reaper.”