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milksnake-tea · 4 months

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━━ duty calls.

Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.

grim x gn!reaper!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit

word count: 4.2k

a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties

"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"

Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.

Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.

You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.

Bold words coming from a bringer of death.

“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.

“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”

You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”

“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”

“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.

“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.

“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.

The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.

“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.

You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”

“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”

“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”

“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.

“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”

“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”

“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.

“Let’s race.”

Casper raised a brow. “Race?”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.

It was… captivating.

“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.”

Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.

“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.

“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”

“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”

You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”

Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”

“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.

“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.

"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"

“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”

“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”

You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.

“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”

“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”

“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”

“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”

“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.

“So long, Casp!”

Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.

You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.

Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.

As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.

“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”

Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.

True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.

You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.

The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.

Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.

Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.

For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.

“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”

You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”

“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”

“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”

“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”

You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”

Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”

Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”

“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”

Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.

“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.

“I was honestly trying to forget.”

Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.

“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”

“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”

“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”

As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.

“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”

━

For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.

Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.

If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.

But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.

“...Snow.”

Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.

“He’s like snow.”

Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.

“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”

Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.

You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.

You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.

Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.

As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.

“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”

Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”

“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.

Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.

Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.

Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.

Even in defeat, he was beautiful.

You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.

“I win,” you sang mockingly.

Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.

“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”

“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.

“I don’t know, what does it mean?”

You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time.

To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.

But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.

━

The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.

You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.

For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.

Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.

When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.

Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.

He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.

The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.

However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.

Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.

But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.

The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.

Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.

Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.

As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.

Then came you.

Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.

He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?

His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.

“What do you want, Casper.”

Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.

“I…”

He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.

You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.

“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”

You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.

You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.

Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.

However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.

You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.

“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.

Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.

“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”

You hugged the plushie a little tighter.

“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”

Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Hardly anything is.”

“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”

“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”

“He won’t.”

Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.

“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”

“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”

“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”

“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”

Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.

“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”

Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.

“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”

“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”

You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”

Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.

“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”

“Mm… yeah. What about it?”

“I’d like to cash it in right now.”

“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.

Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”

You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”

Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.

In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.

“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”

His grip around you tightened.

“Please.”

You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.

“...I promise.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#a date with death #a date with death x reader #adwd #adwd x reader #adwd casper #adwd casper x reader #casper x reader #casper #x reader #y/n #reader insert #grim reaper #grim reaper x reader #archives 🏵️

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berryless · 3 months

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OK, Mr Grim Stalker

Grim Reaper | Casper x Custom Female Main Character (PWP, NC-17 || 5k words || smut, fluff, dirty talk, consensual voyeurism, masturbation on camera)

Summary:

Casper was caught in 4K during call, and MC lives for it. They banter lots, tease each other, Casper's barking and begging.

!Warning!

Not Enterely Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Slight Canon Adjustments, Alternative Timeline, Canon Typical Angst and Mentions of Death/dying/etc (but nothing bad really happens, I promise) (at least not in this fic) (this is pure smut with just a sprinkle of warnings)

Read this work on Archive of Our Own.

"You're blushing, Casper," Caha smiled, her head tilted as she watched him sputtering on the other side of the screen. Somehow the certainty of being seen made his usually perfectly coordinated limbs stiff and awkward.

"…What are you wearing?" he managed in a strangled voice, habitually avoiding answering unwelcome statements.

"Oh, this?" Caha tugged on one of the straps of her top, and her breasts jiggled right in front of camera. Casper wanted to look away, but couldn't, eyes glued to the display. "Laundry day clothes. Be thankful I bothered to put on anything at all."

Did it mean she could've potentially been sitting there naked..? He tried really hard not to think about it, but failed miserably. A stupid thing, really. Not that he never reaped someone during the intercourse, or never saw other bodies naked—both things happened to him plenty of times. The problem was, those things happened with strangers he had no feelings for whatsoever, and so was able to stay perfectly calm and composed the entire time.

And Caha, as much as it pained Casper to admit it, wasn't such a stranger. She was a nuisance and a sole failure in his outstanding career, and, fuck, why was she leaning closer..?

Casper straightened up, squeezing himself into the back of his armchair, watching Caha's chest practically pressing against the camera as she fished for something. He never knew she had a mole there, right in between. Perfect spot for kissing.

"Lyusha says hiiii," Caha hugged the cat to her stomach and waved Lyusha's paw.

"Hi, Lyusha," Casper answered weakly, casually waving back.

No, he wasn't at all disappointed with the creature's appearance. Or the fact that she was now babied to pieces, taking all of Caha's attention.

In fact he could stand not being watched for a minute or two.

Losing a glove in process, his right hand slid under the desk, brushing against the throbbing tent of his pants. Hells. It was infuriating how little Caha needed to rile him up.

Casper watched her scratching Lyusha's belly, breasts jiggling with each movement of her arms.

Caha had plenty of moles on her face, but he never knew… Right in between, huh..?

He propped his chin, leaning on his left against the table while his right hand was quietly pulling down the zipper. Unlike certain someone, he was dressed properly for the call. And now regretted it a little: sweatpants would've been easier to get around. Still, he managed. Without the constraints of tight clothes, his erection freely stretched the boxers.

Casper took a quick look at the screen, but Caha was still preoccupied with petting purring Lyusha sprawled on her lap with the most annoying baby voice accompaniment possible. 'Oh, who's the cutest sweetest little thing in the whole wide world' and 'yes, my darling baby angel, you guessed right, it's you' were spilling from her like they cost nothing, flowing right into his ears together with the endless kissy noises, like she was saying that to him.

She wasn't, though, and Casper couldn't help but look at Caha, voicelessly begging her to spare at least a crumb of that attention and affection to him.

She didn't notice, of course.

She never did.

Casper hid the lower part of his face under his left hand and took a first tentative stroke, still through clothes, lips tightly pursed to not let out the slightest sound, eyes on the screen, on that fucking mole, thinking only about how it would feel on his lips. Caha was so warm that one time he touched her. So soft. Even through his gloves, Casper felt that.

His lips would probably melt off on spot if he were to kiss her. Run his palms along her curves. Squeeze her chest, fingers sinking into soft flesh. Bite her collarbone, then neck, taking in the pulse of her life beating against his lips.

Now he could only bite on his glove and swallow down the swears as he slowly stroked himself. Quiet. He needed to keep quiet.

Caha paused, then smiled, eyes sparkling.

"I was expecting a pretty please, but that's better."

She slipped out of straps of her top and then yanked it down, breasts bouncing free of fabric. Casper watched her, breath caught in his throat, mouth suddenly dry. Caha scooped them into her palms, fondling herself carelessly, fingers digging into flesh. That mole was there again, deep brown in jarring contrast against Caha's pale skin.

"Well, how about it?" she asked, looking at him with a smile. "How do you like your bones, Grimmy? Are they up to your distinguished taste?"

He tugged his left glove away with his teeth and ruffled his hair, shaking his head that felt two sizes too big all of the sudden.

"You really want to see me barking at you like a dog, don't you?" Casper sighed helplessly.

"Maybe. Is that the only thing you want to do with me?"

"…Hardly. If anything, I want so much, I can barely think human thoughts."

Caha let out a satisfied laugh as she plopped back into the pillows.

"Not a very good boy, are you now, Grimmy?" she teased, finger circling around her nipple. "With many, many naughty thoughts in that fluffy white head of yours, tsk, tsk, tsk."

"And who's at fault for that?" He couldn't help but glare at her, grating his teeth.

"Yours, of course," Caha scoffed in a matter of factly manner, her chin raised high. "You could've been fucking me like an animal all you wanted, no thoughts, head empty, brain smooth and unwrinkled, but instead you chose this. Now suffer in the bed you've made. Or rather, in a chair. Touch yourself with those beautiful cold hands of yours, thinking about how mine would've felt. Warm. And soft. Very, very soft. No calluses, no rough spots. Wrapping around all of your length, one atop another, stroking, caressing and rubbing you all over."

"Hah… hngh…"

Casper choked on his suddenly thickened spit. With Caha voice in his ears, saying stuff like that as she played with her tits, watching him masturbating, his body tingled all over, nipples tender and taut, hips thrusting into his hand by themselves.

"Please… Talk more, Sunshine… Please… I want…I want to hear more…"

She sighed in a way that made him tremble, then her right hand slid down again.

"It's not just my hands that are warm, you know? It should be much hotter inside my mouth. I'm not sure if I'd swallow you whole, you're kinda…a handful, in more ways than one, but the tip? I would've circled it with my tongue and taken it in. You know those ridges at the roof of the mouth? Right behind the front teeth? Bet they'd feel good against the skin, won't they?"

"…Yes, yes they would."

Hot sweet mouth. That sharp tongue of hers gliding all over him. She would definitely be all teethy about it, just to make him quiver in anticipation of a bite.

Hands on him, warm touch of them. Handling him with that tender carelessness of hers. Soft, then firm, then soft again. Light scratches.

Her face, her eyes, looking at him from the bottom up with that mischievous glint to remind him that she may be on her knees now, but it's him who's getting played. Defenseless and at her mercy. Getting the desired relief only with her permission.

"You're so pretty, Casper. So, so pretty." Caha whispered, words round and sticky inside her mouth, r's rolling from her tongue right into his head like pebbles, disturbing his already unstable mind.

"Can't…take your eyes away…can you?" he scoffed weakly, trying to shake the picture away before he'd start begging out loud.

"Can't."

"Knew…it. Ha. Good…you're finally admitting it. Told you…I'm charming…and irresistible…for your kind. Hah. Hngh. Fuck…"

He bit on his lip, squirming in his chair, close, so close…

"I'm trying, believe me. You know…there is another hot and wet place beside my mouth I can put you in? One that'll take you whole. It's practically dripping now, I'll have to squeeze my shorts after this call, really, what are you doing with me… Better then, what you're not doing with me. When you could've. Honestly. You. Ugh."

He knew what she was talking about. Of course he knew.

"Caha…"

"It's hard to do it dry handed, isn't it? You're so sensitive, Casper. Bet it's grating to you without any lube, huh? I could've helped with that. Maybe. Depends on your attitude."

"Please…"

"No. More."

"Woof..?"

"Still no. More."

"Sunshine…please…"

"Please what? Use words."

"Please…help me. Please… I…I want…"

"Yes?"

"I want…this. You. I want…you…so much, I'm going…crazy. You're fucking up… my life…and my head…and my job…and I still… I… I… Caha… Sunshine… Please."

"…You're telling all this, but still aren't coming. Even though I have perfectly toasty dripping pussy to put you in. Swallow you whole and squeeze the life out of you. Or death. Or soul. Or something. I'm sitting here, wet heaving, frothing at my privates, begging to be stuffed. Begging, Casper. Contracting on nothing but air. Achingly empty inside. All those nice wet folds and pulsing muscles left unused when they could've been wrapped around your stupid pretty pink cock. Hot and tight, so, so, sooooo tight. Milking every last drop out of you. Wouldn't that be nice?"

That was the only thing in his head as Caha spoke, words and images blending together, all the fantasies about her he played on repeat swarming in at once, flickering under his eyelids in sporadic fragmented flashes: Caha with her legs spread wide, demanding to fill her; her again, palm pressed against his chest as she straddled him with that annoying cute irresistible smirk on her lips, her wet folds sliding against his cock, covering him in her juices; her again, hands on his shoulders, palm cradling the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin as he thrust inside her; her again, pushing his head between her thighs, fingers raking through his hair before grabbing a fistful of it right at the roots, the tug just the right amount of painful to feel pleasure; her again, eyes closed, teething on her lower lip, all her soft flesh and curves trembling while he mindlessly beat into her like an animal in heat; her again, riding his face, trembling and moaning, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place; her again, his teeth on her neck, biting and licking and biting again, leaving possessive marks in his wake, mine, mine, mine. Her body, her soul, her heart, everything, all of her, only his.

Nothing but her on his mind.

Just like she wanted.

Casper came and choked, gasping on air, dizzy and breathless, lost between fantasies and reality, not sure which was what.

Caha looked at him from the screen, head tilted, pouting, her cheeks bulged.

"Congratulations. Good for you. I still think I would've done a better job. Made much less of a mess. And you could've cuddled with me afterwards, and I would've kept you warm. Humph."

She turned her face away, but soon looked back at him from the corner of her eye, then turned even further, chin raised high, harrumphing again.

How could someone be simultaneously so stinking cute and so fuckable? It was still a mystery to him.

Casper leaned onto the back of his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, evening his breathing and heartbeat.

Caha was so incredibly wrong about that one thing: she was the one who made all this mess in the first place. Unceremoniously squeezing into his life, into his head, carelessly breaking and destroying all the rules he upheld, all the things he thought were right, all the plans he had for the future, and triumphantly taking the main place among the rubble of his disorderly mind, crowning herself as she took all the space inside it, leaving no room for other thoughts.

And a week later he was supposed to claim his rightful rewards for winning the bet and ferry her soul to the afterlife, never see her again, and turn back to the life he had before he ever knew her.

Yeah.

She couldn't have made a bigger mess if she tried.

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