Pleaseplease Make More Daisuke Mouthwashing X Reader 18+ Stories Where Hes A Whiny Boy Because He Got

pleaseplease make more daisuke mouthwashing x reader 18+ stories where hes a whiny boy because he got jealous about u hanging out with curly ( sneaks in ur room to talk then ure up with the rest ! ) i hope this gets noticed tho💔 i would absolutely appreciate if u take this request! 🫶🏻

P.S I LOVE YOUR WORK!! i enjoy reading ur stories<33 it makes me feel like im actually in their world lol, i can imagine it pretty clearly😭😭 ure amazing!!

as mentioned earlier i got drunk writing this sorry / +18!!! / probably less than 1k words idk

@maniacpixiedreamboy come get your man he's barking....

Daisuke lets people get away with a bit more than he should. Usually that means allowing assumptions that he's dumber than rocks; life is easier that way. Less responsibility, less arguments, less struggle to be heard. The only person to ever see through that and call him on it is hidden behind a steel door thicker than his captain's head.

...ugh.

Captain. Captain Curly.

Raising a trembling hand, Daisuke knocks -earnestly shocked he's actually gone through with it- and feels his heart leap into his throat as seconds pass. Silently awaiting either brutal rejection or sweet remedy.

Part of him disbelieves his feet are even outside your door. Third eye beaming down on his own lean body poised for embarrassment, after an hour talking himself up just to leave his quarters. Swansea was dead asleep when he stealthily padded out, and Daisuke prays the old man remains that way when he shamefully crawls back inside.

"Daisuke?" your voice startles him.

Jumping, he snaps a wristband against his skin and silently stares at you, wide-eyed, "Uh. Hi."

"'Hi'? What the fuck are you doing out here...?"

Voice rocky with slumber and eyes discolored with exhaustion, Daisuke imagines you're seconds away from ripping the answer out by force.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, shooting this wary look back as if he's doing something illegal and whispers, "Do you have a thing for Captain?"

"The fuck?" that seems to wake you right up. You blink bleariness out and glare at the man, posture straightening out, "What's wrong with you?"

"Well, you two seem close and all..." Daisuke wants the Tulpar to spontaneously split down the middle and for his body to get ripped into the vacuum of space, "For the age gap, anyway."

"Why do you care?" you dig out drowsiness from either eye with your index knuckle, yawning into Daisuke's face which he supposes he deserves, "You can have the dude, I don't like him. He's my boss."

"I don't- !" Daisuke hisses until you giggle quietly, "Oh, you're mean."

"Yeah," you shrug nonchalantly, leaning against the doorway with folded arms, "You're still standing outside my door. So what?"

"I don't like when you're mean to me..."

"Yes you do."

"But you're not supposed to know that!"

"Alright, then," you step back, finger out to press the close button on your doors, "If you've got nothing else to say, then I will: goodnight, Daisuke."

"No!" he wails, immediately burying teeth into his hand and cringing at the outburst. Just to follow it with a muted one, "Nooo...."

"What? What do you want?"

"You already know," he whines, batting those thick lashes at you like you've been anything remotely resembling sympathetic tonight.

"I wanna hear it," you snag him by the collar of his Pony Express sanctioned sleep shirt and drag him inside before closing your door. Shoving him back until his knees buckle against the bed frame.

Daisuke crashes into your thin sheets. Again: Pony Express sanctioned. Meaning they're bright fucking yellow and do shit for keeping out the cold. But they're a welcomed reprise from that stiff hallway. He shakily exhales, eyes darting around the room for a mere glimpse of any deposed laundry he could spot. Underwear, specifically. Which is strange because until he boarded the Tulpar, Daisuke did not think he was a pervert.

He's ran around a couple bases back on Earth, and he's watched porn, and he's been in casual relationships (two, actually, both of which were surprisingly chaste). He'd never known himself to be obsessed over the idea of sullied garments.

"Daisuke," your voice lulls him back into the moment, eyes low and expectant, "Don't ignore me."

"Sorry," he blurts, swallowing hard and refocusing entirely on the sorry excuse of pajamas you've thrown on. Thin short sleeve and boy shorts. Fuzzy socks he can admit are adorable.

Briefly, the image of his hands wrapped around them as he holds your ankles to your ear flashes in his mind and he has to shake it out just to remember the English language.

"I, uh, well, you know? I'm," he clears his throat, pushing up onto both hands and thighs spreading as this insufferable heat begins throbbing all across his lap, "I'm super pent up. Like. Crazy pent up. I didn't think I'd share a room with Swans', I'm dying without jerking off," your rising brow only prompts more pathetic truths from his mouth, "And I can't find any material other than. Well..." again, his eyes crawl over you without subtlety or remorse. Tongue darting out to slicken his lips, "You."

"Me?" you take one step forward and his hips jump up instinctually.

"You," he confirms, sitting up straighter before slumping forward. Crooking his head up as you approach, and telling himself he allows you to take his cheeks in both hands, "You're so hot you make me wanna vomit. I don't even think it's the isolation, I just... want you."

"Yeah, baby?" it's so condescending, the way you smile down at him and coo, "You wanna fuck me?"

"Uh huh," he spreads out even wider, fingers knotting into your sheets to keep from abruptly grabbing your hips. Silently begging to be touched and praised and kissed.

"What a sweet boy I got, how'd I get lucky enough to get stuck on a haul with you?"

Your wondering goes unanswered long enough for Daisuke to feel permissed to strip those flimsy boy shorts from your legs. Shoving them near your knees before begging,

"Can I put it inside? Just for a little -I need you, please?"

Daisuke spent a countless sum of nights deliriously spiraling into dreamland to thoughts of you riding his cock, but now the reality is sweeter than every built imagination.

His head is practically molten against his shoulder blades and his lungs are expelling air faster than they can recover. Hot thighs slap and stick and peel and you're mewling over him with honeyed lips just wavering above his,

"Is this good, honey? Is it everything you dreamed of?"

He sounds like one of those pin-up blonde girls in porn, fucking wailing for you. Your name muddied and drug through a series of babbled, "Uhhhhh, fuck, yeah, yes yes yes fuck so good. Never had it like this, fuck fuck, I think I love you."

You staunchly ignore that last bit. Mouth hovering over his and teeth snagging Daisuke's with the prayer to draw blood.

Cock fat enough to stretch you out while his head thump thump thumps deep inside you. Velvet walls hardly accommodating with how tightly they squish around his shaft.

Far thrown out his mind is Captain Curly, now all Daisuke hopes for is to be the sole person on board you've made your sex toy.

"fuck me," he wails, even as you follow that exact command, "Fuck me, baby, God!"

Swollen with pleasure, you grind against every down-thrust as you ride his cock and moan his name just like he wants. One hand buried in his bleach-strained hair and one carving into his thigh for purchase.

"Daisuke, harder, babe- give it to me harder!"

He does his best to compky, as Daisuke always does: eager to prove, eager to be useful. Punches his feet onto your mattress to thrust up into you and slam fully inside your snatch, his balls bruising against your ass.

Again he claims to love you and again you choose to ignore it.