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kkanabel · 18 days ago

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co-pilot mischief ✫ curly concerns ✫ chapter uno

captain curly x teasing!reader

curly panics when he realizes he's attracted to his co-pilot. a mixture of professionalism and fear of making you uncomfortable are keeping him from pursuing his feelings. so, when you find out that he has a thing for you, you tease him to see how long it'll take for him to give up.

directory/m.list next chapter ⇨

words: ~3.5k

t/w: sexual references but no actual yucky (yet), reader being lowkey sadistic, cute curly <3, gn!reader/pronouns but reader wears a bra

a/n: hi. been obsessed with this video game recently—well, especially with Curly (go figure. i like fictional men). i needed to make something self-indulgent bc i just like this man way too much. and because i just want to make a world where none of them have to suffer. enjoy~

~jambalaya does not exist in this world~

Planned Shipment Duration: 382 Days Elapsed Transit Time: 292 Days

It had been over nine months aboard this damned ship, and Curly was just short of going mad. Not the kind of madness that came with sleep deprivation—he’d conquered that particular beast long ago, his body numb to the restless nights. No, this madness was quieter, more insidious, burrowing into his mind and refusing to leave. It trailed him through the claustrophobic halls of the Tulpar, slipping into the smallest crevices of his day-to-day. The worst part was, he knew exactly what caused it.

Or rather, who.

His co-pilot. The bane of his existence. The source of his sanity slipping through his fingers like sand.

Curly groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands, his calloused palms dragging over stubble. The cockpit was bathed in the green glow of the ship’s display panels, casting long shadows over his hunched figure. For once, he was alone. His co-pilot was off—God knows where—and he was left to grapple with the gnawing frustration that never seemed to diminish. It wasn’t the kind of irritation that burned; it simmered, steady and unyielding, until it became part of the fabric of his thoughts, melting like wax into his very being.

He could see their handwriting on the little sticky notes scattered around the console, each one an infuriatingly sweet reminder to stretch, drink water, or take a break. He tried to ignore the way those notes made him feel a little lighter, even when he wanted to crumple them up out of spite. Then there were the meals—hot, fresh, and left beside him during the long hours he spent poring over ship diagnostics on days he’d forget to come to the main lobby for food. Like clockwork, they arrived, a silent reminder that someone out there cared. Too much, in fact.

It wasn’t the fact that they’d climbed the ranks with startling efficiency or that they were nipping at his heels for his own position. But the issue wasn’t their competence. Hell, he’d been the one to recommend them to the crew. No, the problem—the real problem—was that he didn’t mind the notes. Or the meals. Or the way their laugh lingered in his head long after the joke had ended.

That was the crux of it: he didn’t mind. He cared too much.

Curly growled under his breath and pushed himself out of his chair, dropping into a push-up position before the thought could take hold again. One. Two. Three. The strain burned through his biceps and shoulders, grounding him in something tangible. In the beginning, this ritual had worked. Twenty push-ups, and he’d feel clear-headed enough to get back to work. But now? He was well into quadrupling that number, and the haze in his mind hadn’t lifted.

“Damn it,” he muttered, shifting to one-armed push-ups. Sweat beaded on his brow, but his thoughts remained stubbornly fixed.

It was their fault. The way they lingered in his peripheral vision during late-night shifts, always a step ahead of him. The way their presence filled the cockpit, electric and steady, as if the entire ship ran on their quiet energy. He hated it. He needed it.

Curly collapsed onto the floor, the cool metal pressing against his flushed skin. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the dull ceiling, and exhaled sharply. But it wasn’t their fault. It was all his.

Because no matter how many push-ups he did or how hard he worked, he couldn’t seem to outrun the one truth he hated most: he was falling for his co-pilot, and there was no way to make it stop.

It all started so innocently.

A couple of months ago, when Curly’s sleep was deteriorating thanks to the unholy cocktail of chronic insomnia and the Pony Express directive of “only indulging in five hours of sleep a night,” the signs of wear were becoming impossible to hide. His dark circles deepened, hollowing out his features, and the number of minor piloting errors he made began creeping upward. He hated slipping up, especially in front of the crew. But you had been there, catching the mistakes before anyone else could notice, your tone warm and forgiving as you covered for him without a single reproach.

“How many hours of sleep did you get last night, Captain?” you asked, glancing at him with a knowing arch of your brow. The question was less accusatory and more concerned, which somehow made it worse.

The third time you caught him in the cockpit, chugging yet another cup of bitter instant coffee, you sighed with exasperation. He barely had time to process what you were doing before you nudged him toward the door with a bottle of melatonin clutched in your hand.

“Rest, Captain,” you said firmly, standing your ground in front of him with a tilt to your chin that tolerated no argument. “Don’t go abusing yourself—and caffeine—like that. Do me a favor and take one of these with some water. I’ve got the ship tied down.”

Before he could retort, you physically pushed him through the doorway and locked the cockpit door behind him. He stared at the bottle of melatonin in his hand, blinking in confusion, his mind too fogged with exhaustion to properly argue. He barely made it to his quarters without bumping into a wall. Still, he heeded your demand.

When he woke up hours later, groggy but undeniably more refreshed than he’d felt in weeks, he returned to the cockpit to find the door unlocked and you sitting in his chair, nursing a steaming cup of water between your hands.

The smile you gave him as he walked in—small, gentle—made something in his chest falter, like the ship had hit a pocket of turbulence. He ignored it, chalking the reaction up to gratitude. “Thanks,” he muttered before reclaiming his chair.

That should have been it. A one-off moment. But it wasn’t.

The next time was when you came bounding into the cockpit, an excited glint in your eyes, holding a bundle of old films scavenged from storage. “Look what I found!” you exclaimed, dropping them onto the console as if they were treasures unearthed from a sunken ship. The crew’s old stash of classic movies. You suggested a movie night, and by the weekend, everyone was gathered in the living area, dressed in mismatched pajamas as per your insistence.

The fake day-and-night screen in the living room had been converted into a movie screen (thanks to a favor from Swansea), and you’d somehow transformed the cramped space into a cozy theater. The crew was laughing, the air thick with the buttery aroma of popcorn—smuggled aboard in direct defiance of Pony Express regulations. Swansea lounged in a corner, throwing popcorn into his mouth with perfect aim, while Daisuke and Anya shared a bag of candy bars, their laughter ringing out during the film’s funniest moments.

And then there was you, looking at the rest of the crew, a relieved smile on your face from seeing them having fun and relaxing.

You’d curled up on the couch with bunny slippers, wearing an oversized t-shirt that reached down to your knees. Curly found himself staring at the way your legs curled up in front of you, the smooth skin catching the flickering light of the screen. He shook his head and willed himself to look back at the film, feeling an odd mix of discomfort and… something else.

It wasn’t just your legs that had caught his attention. He watched your shoulders relax as you looked at the others having a good time. From your shoulders, his eyes slowly trailed up to your neck,

There was the lace halter bralette peeking out from the neckline of your shirt, delicate and intricate, its strap circling your neck like a whisper of fabric. He’d overheard you mention it in passing to Anya once, saying how they were more comfortable than traditional bras. Cute, you’d said. Anya had agreed wholeheartedly, and the two of you had launched into an entire conversation about comfortable alternatives, leaving him both bewildered and hyper-aware of the intricacies of brassiers.

That night, you’d tied your hair up, sweeping it off your face and revealing the curve of your neck. He hated how his eyes kept trailing there, lingering too long on the strap of your bralette before snapping back to the screen.

What was wrong with him?

The laughter of the crew filled the room, but Curly’s focus was elsewhere. He watched the way your shoulders relaxed as you leaned back, your smile warm and unguarded as you looked at the others enjoying themselves. It had been a rough couple of weeks, but in that moment, you looked so at ease, like you were carrying everyone’s joy on your shoulders and doing it gladly.

His gaze drifted again, following the line of your neck up to your jaw and almost to your lips before he froze, his chest tightening with realization. He was staring. Stop it, you creep. His heart thudded in his chest, the weight of his guilt sinking in. The last thing he ever wanted was to make you uncomfortable, to let you see just how hopelessly he was starting to lose control of his own feelings.

And yet, even as he looked away, forcing his attention back to the film, the memory of your smile lingered in his mind, burning as brightly as a star in space.

Later that night, after the crew had dispersed to their quarters, Curly lingered in the living area. The faint smell of popcorn still hung in the air, and empty mugs cluttered the low table, remnants of the impromptu movie night.

He hadn’t planned to stay, but you were still there, stacking empty bowls with practiced efficiency. You hummed softly as you worked, the sound low and content.

“You don’t have to clean up,” he said, his voice startlingly loud in the quiet.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, an easy smile spreading across your face. “Neither do you, Captain. Yet here you are.”

Curly looked so charming, sweeping up the crumbs from the ground with a bashful smile. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Force of habit, I guess.”

He stepped forward and started gathering stray candy wrappers. You didn’t protest, and the two of you worked in companionable silence. The only sounds were the soft clink of mugs and the occasional hum from the ship’s systems.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter. He kept his eyes on the mug in his hand, turning it absently. “I think… the crew needed it.”

You paused, a little surprised. “Needed what?”

“A break. A reminder that things aren’t always so…” He trailed off, searching for the word. “Mechanical.”

You laughed softly, and the sound was warm enough to make his chest ache. “Even machines need downtime, Captain. And so do you.”

He glanced at you, his resolve faltering as you met his gaze head-on. Your eyes were steady, soft, and full of something he couldn’t quite name. For a moment, the ship felt too small, the air too thin.

“I guess I’ll work on that,” he said, forcing a crooked smile and dropping his gaze.

As the months passed, his little problem only got worse.

It started as little things.

The way Curly’s voice would soften when he said your name, like he was tasting it before letting it leave his mouth. How he always seemed to position himself between you and anything remotely dangerous during routine checks, even if the “danger” was just a loose panel or a slightly sparking wire. You noticed those things before, but they hadn’t meant much to you at the time.

But lately, you’ve started picking up on more.

Like how he fidgets whenever you lean over his chair to point something out on the cockpit screen. Or how his ears turn red if your hand brushes his when passing tools or data tablets. At first, you think it’s funny—how someone so competent and in control can get so flustered over little things. But then, there’s the moment in the Main Lobby.

You’re digging through one of the upper cabinets, on the hunt for something sweet, when you hear his boots scuff against the floor behind you.

“You’re always after the chocolate in the vending machine,” he says, leaning casually against the counter like he isn’t watching you a little too closely.

“And you’re always after the coffee,” you quip, holding up a ration bar triumphantly.

“Touché.” His lips twitch into a smile, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on you just a moment too long before he turns to grab his mug from the shelf.

It’s not unusual—this kind of back-and-forth—but as you open the bar and break off a piece, you catch him glancing at you again, almost like he’s about to say something. He doesn’t, though, and the moment stretches long enough to feel... significant.

That’s when it starts clicking.

The lingering looks. The slight hesitation in his voice when he talks to you. The way he goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable, even when he doesn’t have to. The realization settles in your chest, warm and a little thrilling.

Does Curly like me?

Your mind starts replaying recent moments with a new lens. The way he always pulls you aside first to explain changes to the schedule. How he always offers to carry extra supplies during inspections, even when you insist you’re fine. That time he casually gave you his jacket when the living quarters were colder than usual, like it was no big deal.

“Earth to you,” Curly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He’s holding out a water pouch, his brow slightly furrowed. “You zoned out there for a second. You okay?”

You take the pouch and give him a smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

You tilt your head, studying him, and your smile widens when he shifts under your gaze. “Nothing important.”

It’s a lie, of course. You’re thinking about him—about how he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, about how he tries so hard to act unaffected when you’re around.

And for the first time, you feel a little wicked. If Curly likes you, why not have a little fun with it?

Curly knew something was off the moment you walked into the cockpit.

It wasn’t just the way you greeted him, your voice light and playful as always. It was the way your smile lingered, like you were holding onto a secret you couldn’t wait to let out.

“You’re up early,” you said, dropping into your seat beside him.

“Could say the same for you,” Curly muttered, keeping his eyes on the console. He was grateful for the excuse to look busy, though the screen in front of him was just a diagnostic report he’d already read three times.

“You’re always so serious, Captain.” Your tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He didn’t respond, didn’t trust himself to.

The silence stretched, and just when he thought you’d moved on, you leaned closer—close enough for him to catch the faint scent of whatever soap you used.

“Hey, Curly?”

His stomach flipped. “Yeah?”

You paused, drawing it out, like you were savoring his anticipation. Then, with a sly grin, you said, “You’re staring.”

“I’m not—” He froze, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”

“You are,” you insisted, your grin widening. “You’ve been staring at that same report for the last ten minutes. What’s so interesting about it?”

Curly’s mouth went dry. He scrambled for an answer, but his mind betrayed him, replaying every fleeting glance he’d stolen of you earlier that morning. How long had you noticed?

When he didn’t respond, you leaned back in your chair, smug satisfaction written all over your face. “Relax, Captain. I’m just messing with you.”

But you weren’t. Not entirely.

Because as you watched the tips of his ears turn pink and saw how his jaw tightened, you realized something. Something that made your pulse quicken and your lips curl into a wicked smile.

He likes me.

And now that you knew, you couldn’t help yourself.

Curly swore the ship’s cockpit had never felt this small before.

You were now hovering just over his shoulder, leaning in to inspect a blinking diagnostic alert on the screen. The proximity was maddening—he could feel the warmth radiating off you, the sleeve of your Pony Express jumpsuit brushing against his arm every time you moved.

“Hmm,” you mused, tilting your head. “Looks like a minor power fluctuation. Nothing to worry about, but we should log it for the next maintenance check.”

He nodded stiffly, trying to focus on your words instead of the fact that your hair was so close it tickled his cheek. “Right. I’ll, uh, take care of it.”

But when he reached for the keyboard, so did you. Your fingers grazed his, and you both froze.

“Sorry,” you said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. A playful smile tugged at your lips, and he didn’t trust it for a second. “Didn’t mean to get in your way, Captain.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, turning back to the screen. But his fingers trembled slightly as he typed, and he cursed himself for it.

“You know,” you said, leaning against the edge of the console, your voice deceptively casual. “You look good when you’re focused like that.”

He nearly choked. “What?”

“I said you look good when you’re focused.” You shrugged, like it was the most normal, casual thing in the world. “It’s kind of intimidating, actually. In a good way.”

His face burned, and he fought the urge to bury it in his hands. “I—uh—thanks, I guess...”

The smile you gave him was nothing short of devilish. “You’re welcome.”

You stayed there, watching him a little too closely, and he could feel his pulse thudding in his ears. Finally, he risked a glance at you, only to find you tilting your head with mock innocence.

“Everything okay, Captain?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, focusing hard on the screen. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Oh, no reason.” Your voice was light, teasing. “You just seem a little... tense.”

He stiffened, embarrassed and confused as to what you were doing but powerless to stop it.

“You know,” you continued, leaning a little closer again, “you really should loosen up. It’s not good for your health to be so serious all the time.”

“I’m not—” He cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Hmm.” You studied him for a moment, and then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you added, “If you ever need help relaxing, Captain, just let me know.”

He froze, his brain short-circuiting at the double meaning behind your words.

Before he could stammer out a response, you straightened up, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Don’t work too hard, okay?”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving him alone in the cockpit, his heart racing and his mind a chaotic mess.

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. He was doomed. Absolutely doomed.

From the moment you saw Curly’s ears turn red, his fate was sealed. You’d never imagined the stoic, dependable captain could be reduced to such an adorable mess, and now that you’d seen it, there was no going back. It was just too cute—the way his bravado would falter, his words stumbling over themselves as he tried and failed to maintain composure.

Normally, Curly was all broad shoulders and easy charm, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. But you’d discovered a crack in that armor, a secret button that turned him from the ever-confident leader into a flustered, helpless schoolboy. And oh, what a delightful button it was to press.

You’d always found him attractive—how could you not? He was responsible, dependable, and unfairly handsome. But for the longest time, you assumed he’d only ever see you as his co-pilot, someone to rely on professionally but never personally. Yet now, the way his gaze lingered a moment too long, the subtle flush on his cheeks whenever you got a little too close, told you a very different story.

It gave you a strange, heady sense of power, and you had absolutely no intention of letting it go to waste.

A small, wicked thrill ran through you whenever you imagined the possibilities. What if you teased him just enough to make that carefully controlled exterior crumble? What if you pushed him to the edge, until he couldn’t hold it in any longer? Your mind wandered to a particularly wonderful thought: Curly, unable to take it anymore, bending you over the console with a heated, desperate confession.

You shivered, the fantasy almost too delicious to bear.

And so, your mission began—not to reject him, but to push him. To tease and torment, to watch his resolve unravel thread by thread. You weren’t cruel, not really. You knew he’d crack eventually, and you planned to reward him handsomely when he did. But until then?

Until then, you’d savor every stolen glance, every stammered reply, every moment he tries and fails to hold himself together.

After all, what was a little mischief between co-pilots?

a/n: let me know what y'all think! biggest thank yous to those who have written curly x reader fics thus far, y'all fueled me lmfao.

oh yeah.. smut.. eventually...

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics... also might be accepting requests hehe! i can't guarantee that i can do em, but i'll accept ideas!

thanks for reading! <3

btw. not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos or inconsistencies stay safe & hydrated as always!

(and go to sleep if you're reading this super late. don't be a curly. take care of yourself! (i say, writing this at midnight))

crossposted on ao3

directory/m.list next chapter ⇨

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing game #Captain curly #curly x reader #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader smut #captain curly smut #curly fluff #mouthwashing fluff #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #grant curly #curly smut

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the-meme-monarch · 26 days ago

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was thinking abt how anya sleeps by the polle statue. which is motion activated to start talking.

+ i like drawing polle as a Character

#now originally i drew this under the same kind of premise as the animatic i did #in that it Is in reality just a statue but is. subconsciously treated as alive and as it’s cartoon self? if that makes sense #but i was thinking abt what if polle Was alive. a toon put on the tulpar as a shitty morale boosting animal that Isn’t you friend #but i worry this would change too much abt the story. i wouldn’t want to add too much levity/fluff #mouthwashing #the art gallery #polle being a toon instead of a statue kinda cheapens it’s effect probably #like i think it worked In The Little Bit like in the animatic. but not through the whole game #plus also it’d probably really muddy his like. symbolism. of like thr company and the baby #so i do have a couple more doodles but (shrugs worriedly)

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unluckiestmember · 1 month ago

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Mouthwashing X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Anya, Swansea, Daisuke, Curly and Jimmy

Warning: Mention of death, but outside of that, none. SFW.

A/N: Should I open up requests for Mouthwashing? I absolutely love this game so I wouldn't mind doing some headcanons here and there for it!

Anya

When it came to everyone in the Tulpar, Anya tried her best to have a strong bond with her crewmates. You were no exception. She found your presence along the spacecraft to be a breath of fresh air. She is always delighted to see you and super excited to teach you all she knows about medical practices and safety she’s read up on. When you, her and Daisuke are together on game nights, she always knows it’s going to be one of the best nights ever.

Some nights when she stays up, she appreciates your company and will even tap into her motherly instincts by laying your head on her shoulder or lap while she hums a tune to you. You are one of the only people who knew about her “incident” and jumped straight into action against Jimmy. Anya greatly appreciated it but always tries to keep you out of trouble out of fear of you getting hurt. The final days of her life were hard, but at least she can look back and confidently say that you were one of the best people she’s ever met. She hopes you two meet again in another life…

Swansea

Swamsea didn’t like you when he first met you. He thought you were another airhead like Daisuke or some quiet soul like Anya. But after a while, he came to secretly care for you like one of his children back on Earth. You are one of the only people he opens up about his family to, reminiscing on the past and revealing his inner turmoil as a father. He appreciates how you simply listen instead of overlapping him, bearing his heart to you unlike another lovable young member aboard to Tulpar.

If you love shoes, Swansea will find it easier to love you since the both of you bond over shoes of many kinds. If your shoes get ruined during the crash, he won’t hesitate to give you his own shoes so you don’t hurt your feet on loose materials. Swansea reminds you a lot of your own father, so you guess you can call him a dad away from home? He’ll act annoyed, but he secretly loved this title. He always did…

Daisuke

Let’s not lie to ourselves, when Daisuke first laid eyes on you, he wasted no time rushing to your side. In your eyes, you might’ve seen only a fellow co-worker, but for him, he saw a new friend. The both of you ended up being pals way before the Tulpar even set off into space! The members aboard the ship like to label you two as siblings, one being a chaotic brother and the other the sweet gentle sibling. A golden retriever and a puppy to say the least.

When he’s not bothering Swansea or hanging out with Anya, he’s rushing to your side to see if you want to take turns playing Pokemon on his gameboy or if you want to play dress up with his abundance of clothing. Sometimes he’ll open up about his life at home, revealing the troubles he has with his parents and how he doesn’t like to be labeled as the “rich kid on board for fun and games”. It hurts, but it helps knowing that you’re sweet enough to look past that aspect of him. Even with that axe hanging over his head, he could at least close his eyes and drift to sleep knowing that in taking this job, he met his true best friend; You.

Curly

Though the both of you didn’t spend much time together, whenever Curly was around he always tried his best to make sure you were comfortable along the Tulpar. When you two first met, he could tell you were shy and nervous about your space voyage together. So in good spirits, he opened up a dialogue of Pokemon with you, leading to not only you revealing more of yourself to him, but also attracting the rest of the team. Whenever he had cake aboard the ship, he would always sneak his slices over to you and Daisuke since he made sure to note you loved sweets.

After evaluations with Anya and others, he always made sure to treat you in some way for being such a good member of the crew. The time the both of you spent together was short, but also as sweet as commodorative cake and Curly would’ve loved to spend more time with you. Unfortunately, his chance has passed… There were so many times he wished he would have opened up to you and just. Be your friend instead of your captain… Some captain he was, right? If only he knew that even up to the end, you still cared for him…

Jimmy

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way! Screw it, if you have Mouthwashing requests too, then throw them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

#mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #anya x reader #curly x reader #daisuke x reader #swansea x reader #headcanons #x you #x reader #requests are open #requests are welcome #fluff headcanons #requests are still open btw #justice for anya

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luckybunny001 · 2 months ago

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“It only took a moment…”

(Mouthwashing Daisuke x Mechanic! Reader)

The crew had been stranded in space for what felt like an eternity—food supplies dwindling, hope fading.

Curly, their captain, lay immobile in the medical bay, a constant reminder of their dire circumstances.

Jimmy, the co-captain, ruled with an iron fist, belittling everyone and taking advantage of Curly’s condition.

Anya, the ship’s nurse, fluttered nervously around them, her eyes darting whenever Jimmy came near.

Swansea, the tough-as-nails mechanic, had taken Daisuke under his wing but seemed to grow increasingly frustrated with him.

“Just pull yourself together, Daisuke,” he would say, his gruff voice echoing in Daisuke’s mind.

But now, sitting on the floor, Daisuke felt anything but together. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the swirling thoughts that accompanied his tipsy state.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching.

Panic gripped him, and he quickly wiped at his eyes, hoping to hide the evidence of his inebriation. But as he opened his eyes,

Reader appeared in the dim light, her silhouette framed by the flickering overhead. She looked down at him, concern etching her features.

“Daisuke?” she said softly, kneeling beside him. “What’s wrong? You look… off.”

He forced a smile, trying to mask his feelings. “I’m fine! Just… taking a little break, you know?” His voice was unsteady, betraying the bravado he was trying to project.

Reader frowned, her brow creasing with worry. “You don’t look fine. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He felt the walls closing in around him, the weight of the ship’s uncertainty pressing down on his chest. “Really, I’m—” But before he could finish, the dam broke. Tears, pooling at the corner of his eyes as he quickly squeezed them shut to prevent them to fall but to no avail as he felt the sting grow more as the tears escaped his eyes.

Reader’s expression shifted from concern to immediate empathy. She quickly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Daisuke buried his face in her shoulder, the warmth of her body grounding him as he let the tears flow freely. He felt embarrassed and vulnerable, but there was something about Reader’s presence that made it feel safe to let it all out.

The warmth of her concern was like a beacon in the darkness that surrounded him, and suddenly, the weight of everything crashed down. “I… I’m sorry, Reader,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “I just… I feel like such a loser. I can’t do anything right.”

“Daisuke, you’re not a loser,” Reader said firmly, rubbing his back in soothing circles. “You’re one of the most optimistic people I know. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. We’re all struggling right now.”

“I thought I could handle it,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I thought I could be helpful, but all I’ve done is mess things up. I can’t even—” He choked on his words, the shame washing over him like a tidal wave. “I drank mouthwash! I can’t even do that right.”

Reader pulled back slightly to look him in the eye, her gaze steady and unyielding. “Listen to me. You’re not defined by this moment. None of us are. We’re in a tough spot, and it’s okay to not be okay. You’re trying, and that counts for something. You bring light to this ship, Daisuke. You really do.”

He sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “But Curly… and Jimmy… and Swansea… they all think I’m just a burden.”

“Curly is in a bad place, and Jimmy… well, he’s just Jimmy,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and sympathy. “And Swansea? He’s tough because he cares. He sees potential in you, but it’s hard for him to show it right now. You’re not a burden. You’re part of this crew, just like the rest of us.”

The mention of Curly brought a fresh wave of pain to Daisuke’s heart. The captain had been a beacon of kindness, now reduced to a shadow of his former self. “I just wish things were different,” he murmured as Daisuke took a shaky breath, absorbing her words. “But what if we don’t make it? What if we run out of food and… and…”

Reader’s eyes softened, and she cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “We will make it.” Reader said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “But crying won’t help. We need to be strong for each other, especially now.”

Daisuke leaned against her, the warmth of her body grounding him in a way he desperately needed. “How do you stay so strong?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“It’s not easy,” she admitted. “But I remember why I’m here. I think about the people I care about — like you, Daisuke. You make it worth it. And I know you can be strong too.”

He swallowed hard, her words wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. “I want to be strong. For you. For the crew.”

“Then let’s do it together,” she said, her eyes shining with determination. “We’ll figure this out. One day at a time.”

As the tension began to ease, Daisuke felt the crushing weight of despair lift, if only slightly. “Thanks, Reader. You always know what to say.”

“Just don’t bottle it up next time, okay?” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “You can always talk to me. I’m here for you.”

Daisuke nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. “I will. I promise.”

Before he could think twice, he leaned in and hugged her tightly, grateful for her support. She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

In that moment, surrounded by the uncertainty of space and the weight of their situation, Daisuke felt a sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long.

Maybe it was with her… he didn’t know.

They were lost, yes, but together, they could navigate the abyss.

As the ship drifted silently through the cosmos, two hearts found solace in each other. And for the first time in a long while, Daisuke believed that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a way forward.

Unfortunately… that wasn’t possible for one of them at least….

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #fyf #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #angst to fluff #light angst #x reader #daisuke x reader

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deathbyday · 1 month ago

Text

-'⁠🫧*⁠.⁠✧mouthwashing✧.⁠*⁠🫧'⁠ -

“How could we end up here…?”

Daisuke x implied F!Reader

TW: OD’ing, death, suicide, mouthwashing deaths in gen

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Written By: DeathByDay

(Also written on Mobile)

4 MONTHS AFTER THE CRASH

After 10 minutes of being away from the medical room, you figured it was time to go back and check on Anya and Curly. You walked up to the door, gently knocking before waiting for an answer. But to your surprise, the black haired woman didn’t respond.

You became confused. You pressed your ear against the door, your skin glazing the metal. You heard breathing. You couldn’t make out whose it was, causing you to continue knocking, hoping for a response.

“Anya? Are you there?” You asked, raising your voice in case she couldn’t hear you. You heard light footsteps behind you, so you turned your head to see Daisuke walking towards you, a confused expression on his face.

“Is Anya okay?” He raised a brow, pressing his hand against the door. “I don’t know.. she isn’t responding.” You replied, voice soft and filled with worry. You keep your eyes on Daisuke, swallowing the bad feeling inside your gut.

“Anya! You okay?” He shouted, banging on the door. The two of you subconsciously stopped breathing, hoping to hear her reply.

“..Yeah.” She whispered, her voice muffled. Your eyes lit up, hearing her speak. “Is the door stuck?” You asked, feeling a knot get tighter in your throat. This was definitely something more than just a jammed door.

You heard a slight sniffle, causing you to slightly purse your lips before speaking once again. “Anya, we’re going to get you out of there.” You promised, glancing over at Daisuke, his face mimicking yours.

That was until his eyes lit up, remembering something that he paid little attention to before. “Oh, I’ll be right back! I saw Jimmy in the lounge just a couple minutes ago. I’ll go grab him!” He hurriedly explained before turning around, ignoring your calls to wait.

If anything, Jimmy would just make things worse for Anya and the two of you. You knew that, but why didn’t he? You quietly groan, turning back towards the door and banging on it once again.

“Please, Anya, I’m not dumb. Come on out, alright? We can talk this over. Just don’t do anything stupid!” You shouted, feeling the corner of your eyes sting with tears. You shook them away, knowing it wasn’t the time.

After a few seconds, you heard the sound of four feet run against the ground. You glanced behind you before stepping off to the side of the metal door, Daisuke settling beside you.

“Anya? I brought Jimmy!” His voice was filled with urgency, not knowing what to do. Hell, you didn’t know either. “We’re here to rescue you, so don’t worry.” He reassured, his hand on the wall. Jimmy takes a step closer to the door, causing you to shuffle your feet to the side even more.

He gently knocks on the door with his knuckles, the side of his face against the metal. “Hey. Heard the locks broken.” He confirmed, keeping his sentence short. Anya doesn’t speak, causing him to shout her name.

You stood off to the side, one hand resting on your forearm. As you did so, Anya finally replied, causing him to let go of a soft sigh. “The rest of our medicine stash is in there too. Damn, this could be bad..” He muttered. “Did you try to really put your back into it?” He asked, his voice raising.

You rolled your eyes before pushing past the man and hammering your fist on the door. “Anya, this isn’t a game. You need to come out!” You plead with her, not wanting this to go on any longer. Daisuke placed his hand on your shoulder in attempt to calm you down.

“Any wrenches laying around? How heavy is the med kit?” He called out, gently pulling you behind him before getting in front of the door, placing his two hands on it. “Anya, is the door stuck?” Jimmy whispered, wondering if she could hear him through the door without raising his tone.

She didn’t reply for a few seconds before muttering a small, “No”. Your blood ran cold. You opened your mouth, but Daisuke cut you off before any words came out.

“What do you mean?” He asked, raising a brow. Anya didn’t have any chance to reply before Jimmy spoke up. “Look, we’re all stressed. But, you can’t go breaking down at every little hardship.” You glanced towards him, seeing his brows furrow, clearly becoming frustrated.

“Open the damn door.” Your leg subconsciously shook, knowing where this was going to go. “You were right. You were right all along.” Anya’s soft voice felt heavy as she spoke. “I should’ve done this from the beginning.” You turned back towards the door, keeping your eyes locked on it.

“I always believed that our worst moments didn’t define us. Didn’t make us beyond repair.” The three of you stayed silent, the only sound being her echoing voice. “You think i wanted this either? Make no mistake. This isn’t my worst moment.. far from it. It’s the best one I’ll ever make.” She chuckled.

You heard the gentle sound of pill bottles being opened, causing you to immediately panic. Before you could even begin to talk, a firm hand gripped your bicep, causing you to back down.

You shook the hand off, not wanting the man to touch you anymore. “Open the door.” He demanded, hands forming fists. You were just glad he wasn’t holding you in his grasp anymore.

“I’ll take care of it.” Anya promised. Suddenly, Daisuke was the one to panic. He banged on the door with his palms, shouting at the woman inside. “What does that mean?!” His voice was shaky. You couldn’t help but just stare at him, feeling hopeless.

“Curly is still in there with her, right?” Jimmy mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Daisuke turned around, nodding his head. “Yeah. You don’t think-..” He cut himself off, realization creeping into his skull.

Jimmy took a deep breath in. “Daisuke. You and Swansea know the internals of the ship better than anyone. There’s absolutely no other way into Medical?” He started, raising a brow. You turned to him, curious as to where his plan was going.

Daisuke thought for a moment, sounding hesitant. “Swansea said it was strictly off limits..” He stated, fully turning his body around. “Like, super, mega not allowed above all else.” Jimmy’s face twisted to realization. “The utility room.”

Your breath hitched, words getting caught in your throat. “That busted vent in there loops into Medical. But, technically a person could totally fit through it.” The brunette confirmed, causing you to finally budge in, glaring at Jimmy.

“That vent has been busted for a long time now. Someone could get seriously injured if they went inside it.” You warned, taking glances at the two men. “Y/N, if that’s the only way, we’ll make it work.” Your eyes widened, surprised by the boldness of Jimmy.

He then turned his body towards the door, keeping his eye locked on you. “You listening, Anya?” It felt as if the whole ship went silent as you three waited for her reply, but she never spoke. “Fine.” He gave up, relaxing his face. “Come on, Daisuke.”

He motioned for him to follow, causing you to grasp your boyfriend’s arm, making him stop in his tracks. “Daisuke, c’mon. You can’t be serious.” You whispered, keeping your voice low. He was clearly hesitant to go with him, but he gave you a smile nonetheless.

“Trust me, babe. I got this.” He promised. You shook your head, glancing back at the man who waited for the two of you. You slowly let your boyfriend go, resting your arms at your sides. “Fine.” You grumbled. “I’ll stay here, I guess..”

The brunette just chuckled, almost forgetting his task before Jimmy cleared his throat, growing impatient. Daisuke nodded towards him, quickly hurrying towards him, you hesitantly staying back.

If only you fought harder.

______

8 HOURS UNTIL JUDGEMENT

“Jim-.. what the fuck did you do?!” You shout, dragging out his name. As you did so, your voice became louder and more intense. Glancing down, in your arms laid an almost lifeless Daisuke. He gasped in shock, clutching his stomach as you continued panicking.

Jimmy ignored you, staring down at the man in your arms. “Don’t do anything!” He demanded before muttering; “stop” over and over. “I can fix thi-..” He spoke, causing Swansea to cut him off. “Why do you keep fucking saying that?” He asked, hands on his hips.

Daisuke groaned softly, causing the two men to shut up. “I-..I’m s-sorry..” He mumbled, shaking his head in sorrow. You leaned down, hugging his head to your shoulder like he was a baby. “It’s going to be okay, just stay still. I’ve got you, I promise.” You reassured, planting a light kiss on his temple.

“We still have disinfectant, right?” Swansea turned back towards Jimmy, his hands now over his chest. “The one from the extra medical stash?” He asked quite frantically before demanding he grabbed it.

“The cocktail..” Jimmy trailed off, glancing down at Daisuke. “The cocktail?!” Swansea shouted. “What are are blabbering about?” As the two men bickered, you drowned their voices out. You kept your eyes on your boyfriend, watching him squirm in your arms.

“You need to stop moving around!” You cried, almost pleading for him to stop. Jimmy stood up before walking away with Swansea, you being left alone with Daisuke.

______

After about 20 minutes, the two of them came back. Jimmy held a bottle of mouthwash in his hand, causing you to shout at him as he sat down in front of you, taking the bottle cap off. “Are you crazy?” You asked, knowing what he was about to use the blue liquid for.

“It’s the only thing we have.” He replied harshly. He tore the cap off, tossing it to the ground before turning it to the side. You pull Daisuke back, not letting Jimmy touch him. “You can’t!” You plead, shaking your head.

The brunette only glared at you, his grip on the bottle tightening. “Let him go, Y/N.” He demanded. You shook your head once again, not wanting him to touch the man in your arms.

“No..” You mumble, holding Daisuke to your chest. “Godammit, let him go!” He yelled at you, causing tears to flow down your cheeks. Hesitantly, you obeyed. Jimmy let out a deep breath, turning the bottle onto its side once more, letting the liquid fall out and onto Daisuke’s wounds.

It sizzled as you covered your ears with the palm of your hands, hearing your boyfriend’s screams. You hiccup, curling in on yourself.

You just couldn’t bear to listen to his raspy voice cry.

______

3 MONTHS AFTER THE CRASH

You stayed behind, watching the door to medical. There was a chance she could change her mind and unlock the door, making you the first to see her after the incident. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her guilty face as she stepped out of the door, accepting your attempt to hug her.

But your thoughts were cut short by a loud scream echoing behind the automatic door. You recognized that scream almost immediately. Your face twisted from pleased to panic in an instant as you gripped the side of the door, your fingernails barely grasping the metal.

As you groaned, you pulled as hard as you could. But to your dismay, it didn’t budge. You silently waited, knowing you couldn’t do anything. The only thing swirling inside your mind was the hope that Daisuke got to the other side of the vent, let alone was still alive.

You heard a grunt before Daisuke spoke up. Your muscles tensed, hearing his voice. It was raspy; sounding like his vocal cords could explode any second now. “Anya..? Wh-..What did you do?” His voice was shaky, hinting that he was crying.

Your breath became faster, anxiety rushing through your veins. “Daisuke, that’s you, right? Baby, I need you to open the door for me right now!” You shouted, banging on the door in hopes he would obey. You heard shuffling inside the room before the click of the door, causing it to automatically open.

The sight in front of you was unbelievable. Curly laid on the medical bed, staring directly at you. Anya sat on the ground beside him, pills scattered around her, making the cause of her death easily visible. Overdosing.

You fought the urge to scream at her to wake up, knowing that if you did, it would only be a waste of time. You then glanced at your feet, seeing your boyfriend with cuts all over him.

You instantly react, lifting his body up by the arms. You drag him out of the room, a light blood trail following. Rough footsteps came from behind you, but you couldn’t bother to turn back, already knowing it was Jimmy.

“What the fuck?” He muttered in shock, causing you to yell at him. “Don’t just stand there, what is wrong with you?! Help me!” You cried, feeling a deep gash on Daisuke’s chest. The older man took him from your arms, carrying him into the lounge.

You stayed close behind, noticing that Daisuke’s blood was all over your arms and hands, and even your jumper. You stared in shock, but you didn’t say anything. You knew panicking wouldn’t do anyone any good.

______

7 HOURS UNTIL JUDGEMENT

After Jimmy used the mouthwash as disinfectant, Daisuke’s wounds didn’t seem to get better. You ended up blowing up at the older man, screaming at him, saying what a shitty job he’s done.

You almost broke skin from your knuckles from smashing the metal floor, trying to let your frustration out.

Swansea was the one who had to comfort you. He didn’t hold you, but he did have his arms loosely wrapped around you, guiding you to sit on the floor as Jimmy kept muttering random words to Daisuke.

He sat you against the wall on the other side of the door, letting you glance over at the wounded brunette whenever you felt like it. You continued sobbing, not caring if you were ugly crying or not. That was the least of everyone’s concerns.

Everything came crashing down on you like a train. You hadn’t registered Anya’s death until now, along with how serious Daisuke’s injuries actually were. You couldn’t believe what was happening. You couldn’t escape this nightmare.

Your body faced Daisuke, your arms wrapping around your own body in attempt to ground yourself from lashing out at Jimmy once again. You hiccuped, feeling Swansea’s hand gently caress your back. He was seated next to you, his body also facing the two men.

“It’s going to be alright.” You heard him mumble. You weren’t sure if he was muttering those words to you or him, but you nodded nonetheless.

You lowered your head into your arms, feeling the dried blood of Daisuke flake off. You snuffled, resting your head against the metal wall.

“I know.” You replied, your voice raspy. It hurt to speak after shouting for a minute straight, but that was the consequence of your own actions. After a few minutes, you felt the tears that fell from your eyes finally dry.

You muffled a sob as Swansea pat your back, giving you one last glance before standing up. He walked back towards Daisuke and Jimmy, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You quickly decided to follow suit, feeling your legs wobble as you stepped towards your boyfriend. It hurt you to stare down at him, knowing the paining backstory as to how he got so injured.

You sat down in front of Swansea and Jimmy, Daisuke lying in between. You held an expression of someone who’s exhausted, yet still fighting for worth. That’s exactly where you were at now.

Except the only person who made you feel like you were finally worth something was bleeding out in front of you. And you can’t do anything about it.

The three of you stayed silent as the brunette continued groaning in pain. You couldn’t help but feel tears sting the corner of your eyes, wishing you could do something to take his pain away.

Letting out a soft sigh, you lean over and wrap your arms around Daisuke before resting his head to your chest, cradling him like you were doing an hour ago.

You felt his fingers loosely grasp around your clothed skin, causing you to let out a soft whine, trying not to break down again. You hid your face from the two men’s view in Daisuke’s hair, your forehead to the top of his head.

You knew his time would be over soon, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to accept it. And so, you cradled him in your arms like a baby, not ready to let go. Suddenly, you heard Jimmy’s harsh tone of voice.

“I can fix this.” He muttered, his expression calm, yet his body language stated otherwise. He was shaky, twitching out of hesitance.

You lifted your head, watching as he let out a deep sigh. His eyes were set on Daisuke’s stomach, seeing blood continue to flow out of his body.

You then turned your attention towards Swansea, who already had his eyes set on you. Your brows upturned, seeing his saddened expression. He knew what you were thinking.

You gave Daisuke a short lived kiss on the top of his head before placing your chin in that exact spot, careful not to put any pressure. You advert your eyes to the side, ignoring the older man’s stare.

“It’s going to be alright.” You whisper to the man in your arms, repeating what Swansea had said earlier. You felt a lump in your throat, feeling the tears continue to sting your eyes.

“I know it hurts, but p-..please, I can’t do this without you.” Your voice was so soft that Daisuke could barely hear you.

He knew he didn’t have much time left, seeing as blood was gushing out of his chest. But he continued fighting, not ready to leave you alone on this space freighter.

______

6 HOURS UNTIL JUDGEMENT.

“The bleeding won’t stop.” Jimmy’s voice rang through the intense air. Daisuke still laid in your arms, his eyes glancing towards you from time to time. He could see your expression and how dead you looked.

“Just try to stay still, Daisuke. I-..I need a second to think. We can fix this.” The man with stubble on his chin whispered, causing your body to tense up.

He always said the words, “I can fix this”. Most of the time, he always screwed it up. Why was this time any different?

Swansea stared down at the wounded man in your arms, wondering how he could help. At least he was actually doing something instead of mumbling that he could fix this mess.

Then you. You. You caressed Daisuke’s cheek, causing him to glance up at you again. You can see the pain in his eyes, his suffering to keep himself alive. It was draining him, and it was obvious to everyone nearby.

You couldn’t bear staring at him any longer. The men beside you were stalling, not knowing what to do. But you did. You slowly lowered him to the ground, careful not to make any sudden movements.

As you did so, Daisuke began coughing. He wrapped his arms around himself, blood seeping out past his lips. This only drove you further to do what was necessary. You glanced back up at the older man in front of you, leaning over and holding out your arm.

“Give me the axe, Swansea.” You uttered, your other arm resting at your side, hand running through Daisuke’s sweaty hair, almost like an attempt to comfort him. To soothe his pain.

Swansea hesitantly set his axe in your hand, not wanting to believe what he was thinking. But in the back of his mind, he knew exactly what you were planning. And so did Jimmy. He instantly shouted at you to stop. To think about what you were doing.

But you couldn’t.

Not when the only person you ever actually cared for was in pain. Not while he’s lying in front of you helplessly, waiting for the suffering to end.

Your hand parted from Daisuke’s hair to help support the weight of the axe. You glanced at the weapon in your hands, then at your wounded boyfriend, then at the men who sat in front of you.

One held a stern look on his face, the other pleading with you to think about what you were doing. But you knew exactly what you were doing. You lowered your head, lips parting from each other as you spoke, staring at the brunette through a pained expression.

“It’ll be okay, Daisuke.” You muttered, ignoring Jimmy’s words that fled your head.

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes I’ve made with keeping myself here. I don’t want to make you suffer with the consequences of something that isn’t your fault, Daisuke.” You somberly shook your head, keeping your eyes locked on him.

“You deserved a better life, not one that requires going to space to make the people you love proud.” Your voice cracked, tears finally breaking free from the tiny glass wall in front of your eyes once again. The liquid fell down your cheeks, planting themselves onto the hard metal ground.

“You should’ve been out there on earth having fun.. but instead, you got stuck with the people who only put you down when you needed them most. And for that, I say sorry. I say sorry for everyone who ever hurt you. And to that, that includes me.”

You held your shoulders high, lifting the axe in your hands and setting the sharp side beside your head.

“Close your eyes, Daisuke.” He obeyed almost instantly, your voice being the last thing he ever heard before you smashed the axe across his face, ending his life.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

authors note

so um.. how do we like this chapter?

(crashing out ASAP as if I didn’t write this entire fic.)

obviously there’s more chapters to come, so be on the look out for that!! chapter eight will be out in a week or two.

like half of this chapter was supposed to be in chapter eight, but I couldn’t stop myself from hitting you all with more angst after each sentence. I got carried away

nonetheless, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I definitely enjoyed writing it<3

(and crying while doing so)

#mouthwashing #indie games #mouthwashing game #video games #horror games #x reader #writers on tumblr #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader mouthwashing #angst #angst with no happy ending #forgive me please #love you guys #i’m so sorry #no fluff #chapter 7

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roventum · 2 months ago

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putting him in the cat ear headset

#mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #rove art #just a dream au #made a new tag for the fluff and slice of life lol

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thugbiscuits · 20 days ago

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— november fic recs. 18+ only

please note: none of these fan fictions were written by me. when you read please make sure to like, comment, and reblog. IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE. minors / ageless blogs will be blocked.

psst… hey cuties! i hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving, or had time to spend with those you love. my month was.. meh, but the fics don’t stop. make sure to send some love to your fav writers during this season <3

joel miller fics .

୨୧ rewind (joel miller x reader, fluff) @hotgirlbedtimescenarios

୨୧ boop me once… (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @sp00kymulderr

୨୧ the older one (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @frannyzooey

୨୧ handyman (joel miller x f!reader) @mrsmando

୨୧ moonlight (joel miller x reader, smut) @pedgito

୨୧ feelings are a lot of work (joel miller x f!reader, smut) @iamasaddie

୨୧ stiff (old man!joel miller x reader, smut) @gutsby

logan howlett fics .

୨୧ watersports (wolverine x reader, smut) @plutodexay-nsfw

୨୧ need you close; (logan howlett x reader, fluff) @wadewnstonwilson

୨୧ how i look on you (logan howlett x reader, smut) @retrosabers

୨୧ anything for love (but i won’t do that) (logan howlett x reader, fluff) @meetmypointlessaddiction

୨୧ guard dog (logan howlett x reader, smut) @bpmiranda

୨୧ babe, im gonna leave you (logan howlett x reader, fluff) @gothgoblinbabe

୨୧ something happens and im head over heels (logan howlett x reader, smut) @logaenhowlett

୨୧ pornstar!logan fucking you dumb (pornstar!logan howlett x f!reader) @honey-on-your-tongue

୨୧ “i think you already know that” (logan howlett x f!reader, fluff, angst, smut) @yxtkiwiyxt

wade wilson fics .

୨୧ birds of a feather (dark!wade wilson x reader) @cvrnelians

୨୧ wade wilson boyfriend headcanons (fluff, smut) @soaked4mk

୨୧ a sight to behold (wade wilson x f!reader x logan howlett, smut) @macabrebatz

bucky barnes fics .

୨୧ my neighbor is a pornstar (series) (bucky barnes x f!reader) @brunchable

୨୧ imperfect for you (bucky barnes x reader, fluff, smut) @tojigasm

mouthwashing fics .

୨୧ curly headcanons (fluff) @izumizumii

୨୧ the crew's reactions to walking in on reader touching themselves (tulpar crew x reader, smut) @ridingtorohan

୨୧ sweet as you (curly x reader, fluff) @satori-runa

୨୧ NSFW curly headcanons (smut) @curly-my-beloved

୨୧ habits (curly x reader, smut) @grimmsbride

divider/mdni creds to @adornedwithlight <3 / header by me :)

lovey’s note: if y’all wanna come to my ask box and send thots and ramblings about any of these characters PLS DO. my lizard brain is running on these men

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson smut #mouthwashing curly #captain curly x reader #thugbiscuit’s fic recs

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isadelusions · 20 days ago

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Captain Curly Headcanons!! from Mouthwashing

| modern au | fem reader | married :)

☆꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷☆

Married headcanons

His Love language

•Act of service

-Since I’m sure that he is a busy man,when he has time to be with you,he will literally try to help with anything if he can.

-I can see him as a workaholic but if your not feeling well, he would try to get off his job early to take care of you or maybe even try to cook a healthy meal for you (well uh.. his cooking skills are hm..). After all, your his wife;)

-When he’s brushing his teeth and noticed you left some unrelated bathroom items on the sink? He will place them back where you would usually put it. He sees your one dirty place next to the sink which you planned to wash after using the restroom? He immediately gets that plate clean.

- He’s a sweet gentleman

•Physical touch

- When it’s just the two of you finally having time for each other, he definitely gets all over you.

- Watching a movie together, ur legs stacking onto his, getting close and comfy, his arm around your waist while you lean in close to him.

- Probably gets bored of the movie and starts to caress your fingers with his free hand, gently giving you a small massage for ur finger which wore that beautiful ring since marriage.

- Would totally place a hand on your thigh while the other on the steering wheel. You lectured him about it,how it isn’t safe and he would retreat back to his original position but does the same action again after a few minutes.

- Would hug you from the back and rest his chin on your head or shoulder.

- Pls give this man his cuddles and kisses.

Nicknames for you

- It’s just natural for him to call you hunny or hun. For exp: ‘You good there,hun?’

- He would call you my love too,like greeting you a ‘Good morning my love’ or ‘I’ve got something to tell you, love’

Random scenarios lol

- At a restaurant, if curly received his meal but it wasn’t the right order, he would just tell himself to suck it up and eats the meal or he either doesn’t care and still eats it. He feels like it’s troublesome for the employees to take back the meal.

-But if he was supposed to be served his favourite meal, you can tell by the expressions on his face, his lips curled in slightly looking a bit sad. Before he prepares to consume the food, you took the plate of meal away from him and asked the waiter politely to receive the right one.

- Curly would try to stop you but in the end he’s hesitant too. After all, he’s served with the right warm meal and appreciates your gesture.

- He would randomly thank you about it after having a few bites and repeats again. Trying to show how much he appreciates you.

-Dad jokes. He loves to tell you random dad jokes just to see that annoyed expression from you. It doesn’t really annoy you but some are just not funny. You secretly do like it tho because he’s curly after all.

-Night owl or Morning Bird? He can be both honestly,really depends on the event. If he’s up early,he would go for a jog, stops by pretty bushes of flowers and would take pictures just to send them to you. So sometimes you would be awake by his notifications, by different kinds of flowers.

Stays up late due to work or a rare chance which is to binge watch movies with you,even though it just always ends up into cuddles and a long comforting talks which the both of you love.

☆꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷☆

Hope you guys enjoyed it! Don’t be shy to send a request or some ideas. My requests are open! (Still new to writing ffs and looking forward to improve!!) I think I might make some oneshots according to some of the hcs here,byeee:0

oneshots > Comforting Porridge

#mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x fem reader #fluff #mouthwashing fanfic #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing #captain curly #curly mouthwashing #fanfic #curly x reader

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konpeitonom · 13 days ago

Note

Pookie I'm BEGGING YOU for a curly x fem reader smut but like he has a rough day and reader asks her to take it out on her so he's like rougher with her than usual 🤭🤭 then there's some nice fluffy aftercare afterwards. As usual take ur time and take breaks!

-🌺 anon

a long day of work, captain grant curly.

nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader — content warnings for light choking, degrading.. he’s a bit mean. some creative liberty was taken..

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; i don’t like to write full length one shots n such and don’t plan too.. just not my style. so i’ll write this in sort of a headcanon-ny / drabble formatting. just a quick heads up for anyone who requests me! i also.. forgot the fluffy aftercare part.. perhaps another time, or a little pt2 if i feel so inclined..

but this might have been my favorite to write for today. this is my 6th piece for the day (posting in the morning..) thank you for ur request anon..

nsfw under the cut! minors do not read

— curly after a long, tiring day of work, all he wanted was to see your pretty face. it always made him feel better. everytime he opens that door, he’ll hear, “welcome home!!”, “you were working for so long, can’t you cut back your hours?”, “i missed you so much. quit that stupid job, please?” .. you get the point.

— he seems extra tired today. even after dinner, a nice bath, some tv, he still looks so stressed! you have to do something. isn’t there anything you can do?

— eventually he ends up venting about work, how stressed he is. he doesn’t like to but he knows you don’t mind. one thing led to another and he was on top of you.

- ♡

“curly.. you know, you don’t have to hold back as much as you do..” you say, your hands on his arms. your fingertips trace his muscles just slightly, as a way to ease him into the idea.

he groans at that thought. god, he really needs to let it all go. but he can’t do that. he really can’t, “what are you talking about?” he said, playing dumb. but you were able to see through him, of course you were.

“curly..”

“no, i can’t.”

“please.. you can take it all out on me. please? i want it. i really do. don’t you want it too?” you respond so desperately.

- ♡

— you knew your husband well. he’d only do it to make you happy. and if that was it? then he can’t say no.

— he’s a bit soft at first. he’s still holding back. just be patient with him, it’ll take awhile for him to get a bit rough the way he does.

— one of his hands holds tightly onto the bed frame, the other on your shoulder keeping you down. his pace is regular but his thrusts are much rougher, you can feel his dick bruising your insides.

— please be vocal.. it tells him you’re enjoying it too. even all pent up and stressed, he’s prioritizing you’re pleasure. even like this, he’ll make sure you cum first.

- ♡

your mouth is wide open, the prettiest noises coming out of it. he looks down at you, his eyes a bit squinted as he places a hand on your neck. you nod gently as to reassure him it was okay, and that’s when he pressed down.

he lets out a low groan, “fuck, do you like that? seriously?” he teased, his tone mean. you didn’t expect that from him, but it was more than welcome.

“god, should’ve told me sooner.” he said, as he pushed down just a bit- pushing the boundaries of what was you’re regular, “look at you. you’re such a mess. i wish you could see your face right now, it’s fucking pathetic.”

- ♡

— you can tell he feels bad, but small reassurances fuel him. so just nod and smile and he’ll continue.

— at this point his pace quickens and he’s rough with it. his hand that isn’t wrapped around your neck like a vice, is on your hips- digging deep into your skin.

— he’d then turn you over to your tummy, making you go on all fours as he pulls your hair back. kind of like a leash. his dick balls deep into your pussy still.

— god, he was so rough. it hurt, you can’t lie. but it felt so good, so good to know that the sensitive man you married has a side to him that only you have the pleasure of feeling.

— “fuck. seems like you enjoy being used like this. yeah? like a fucking toy? why didn’t you say so before then?” he’d whisper into your ear.

— he cums at the sight of your eyes rolled back to make eye contact with him, your tongue a bit out as you moan uncontrollably. maybe it was also the teardrops that stained your face. you looked pitiful, really.

— “are you okay?” he’d whisper in your ear. he felt bad for cumming first. but he couldn’t help it. he could only hope you wouldn’t be too upset.

— that’s when he’d turn you over to your back to see your face much more clearly. if you tell him now that you need a break, he’s happy to do so- then please you. no harsh words, just love.

— but if you nod, tell him it’s okay- and that you want to continue. you’re in for a long night, because at that slight nod he’s already shoved his dick back in you. he’s desperate, and you’re willing to give it to him.

#nomnompyon #mouthwashing #captain curly #captain curly x reader #curly grant x reader #curly fluff #curly headcanons #curly x reader #grant curly x reader #mouthwashing fic

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lakesparkles · 2 months ago

Text

This guy doesn't leave my mind, I can't stop drawing him 😔

(adding some selfship art here shhh pretend you don't see it)

#daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing #self shipping #self ship #oc x canon #swansea is here too ig #and my ocs #jeffrey #fluffs #i'm not even home yet but i know i'll be too lazy to post later #most of these i drew in these last two days

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ang3lofdivinity · 1 month ago

Text

Because I’m trying to get back into writing more…

Imagine: Daisuke and you on the Tulpar managing to find time to spend together doing something like.. making food for the crew. No matter what your job is, you’re always willing to help him out with baking whenever needed!

“Dai, can you-“ You immediately freeze, looking over at your boyfriend who has made a rather large mess on the counter. He had dropped the batter out of the mixing bowl somehow, enough for it all to pour out as he holds the messy, metallic bowl and spatula in his hands. His expression? Dumbfounded to say the least

You genuinely cannot contain the giggles that escape your throat upon seeing the scene before you.

“Hey!! This isn’t funny!” He immediately pouts, whipping his head around to face you before looking back down at the bowl, using the spatula to scrap whatever remains are within the bowl and slinging them at you, causing you to laugh even harder - tears falling down your cheeks.

The batter had splattered on your clothes, along with your neck. But hey! At least you got a nice laugh out of it.

Quickly, your hands swiftly grab the nearest thing, which just so happens to be an opened sweetener pack, as you launch it towards him, causing him to squeal like a mouse.

This then, continues. For nearly hours as you laugh and cry about your food fight, throwing ingredients at each other as you can’t find a care in the world for the mess you’re creating. Only caring about your boyfriend’s happiness.

Other food items, utensils (non-harming ones), and bowls were thrown. The bowls and utensils clattered as they fell to the ground, nearly causing you both to fall at certain times as you raced around the dining table in the center, trying to avoid getting hit once more.

There’s honestly nothing that can ruin this-

“What are IDIOTS doing???”

Upon hearing Swansea’s voice, you both instantaneously pause, staring over at the old man standing in the doorway.

Without a second to spare, you quickly rush over to Daisuke, who’s practically trembling under Swansea’s gaze.

“You stupid kids! Why would you waste these products!?” He yells, brows furrowed.

You move in front of Daisuke rather protectively, clearing your throat.

“It was my fault, Mr Swansea. I instigated this, and pressured him to join me in.. what I thought was fun. I’m so sorry. We’ll clean this up right away and salvage all that we can.” You bow your head in respect, lips now pursed.

“Just, don’t do it again..” He huffed as he turned on his heel, now leaving as the door slid shut.

It takes you guys a moment before you start giggling ever so slightly.

Imagine: You are sleeping, and then you suddenly hear your door open in the middle of the night. Surprise, it’s Daisuke! And even when trying to tough it out - he eventually can’t find it within him to go back to sleep without company. So he goes to your room to ask if he can sleep with you because being with you makes him feel better.

You groggily manage to raise yourself enough to sit on your bed, eyes blinking slowly as you try to adjust to your surroundings. Yawning, you finally see who’s opened your door.

Daisuke.

“..Sweetheart, it’s still nighttime. Can whatever you have to say wait until morning?..” Your voice is slightly raspy, but you try your best to sound as kind as you can, giving a small smile to the man in the doorway.

“I um.. sorry- I can go.. I didn’t mean to disturb you..” He fumbles over his words, fidgeting with his fingers as he stumbles backwards a bit. Something.. something seems wrong with his tone, however. Like something’s genuinely going wrong. So, that really gave you a wake-up call.

How could you push away your boyfriend in order to get just a bit more sleep tonight when he seems so distressed??

“Wait!-“ You quickly call out, causing him to stop him from leaving once he showed signs of him beginning to leave. You couldn’t let him leave just like that!

He turns to you, a worried look on his face. As if he’d done something wrong. You’ve seen that look before. He makes the same face whenever Swansea calls out his name all of the sudden, making him stiffen up, worrying that’d done something wrong.

But he hasn’t.

He’s just a young adult, like you.

Just trying to live.

Just. Like. You.

“..Come here.” Your voice is softer, sounding much more normal to how you normally sound - yet it still has that tired tinge to it.

He stares at you for a moment, confused about what’s happening before obliging. He slowly enters, the door sliding closed behind him as he awkwardly stands near the side of the bed where you’re resting. Swiftly, you lift up the covers, moving back a bit before patting the free spot on your bed.

“Come on. We can talk about it in the morning if you’re ready then.”

He almost immediately jumps into your arms upon crawling up into bed with you, wrapping his own around you while burying his face away into your shoulder. One of your hands glides up, finding its way into his hair, tangling with strands of it, stroking his hair, massaging his scalp - doing simple things to try and get him to relax a bit more.

Which works.

He’s out once more, arms wrapped around each other.

Imagine: Giving little gifts to each other with small letters of affirmation written on little post it notes. Even if that small gift is just an article of clothing one of you guys borrowed from the other.

‘You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. Keep the good work up, Dai. :)’

- (_____)

Daisuke reads the note attached to a bag of sweetener with a cheeky grin, clearly pleased with this. I mean, he’s been told he’s useless, that he’s just an idiot - but you see through that. You see the effort, the time it takes. Even if it fails, at least he tried to do it.

Quickly he looks around his room for a moment, trying to find the perfect thing to give you.

When he finds it.

Upon arriving back to your room from the medic bay, helping Anya with Curly and a few other errands she needed - you’re greeted with the sight of a hoodie somewhat neatly placed on your bed. You furrow your brows, confused for a moment before you approach your bed, now seeing the post-it-note attached to it.

A small grin slowly graces your lips as you tilt your head at the sight, gently taking it off the hoodie.

‘Know that you matter to me! You’re so incredibly awesome, I don’t know how I got to date with someone so cool >:D’

- Daisuke

As your smile grows larger, you realize 2 essential things:

You’re so thankful to have him.

And

He’s the best boyfriend ever. (Even if a bit silly at times).

You love him.

#mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #x reader #drabble #scenarios #fluff #he’s so pookie #he’s so attractive #and silly #i love this man #fanfiction #🪥 - mouthwashing #🕯️ — random angel things #🪽 — ang3lofdivinity

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kkanabel · 16 days ago

Text

co-pilot mischief ✫ both broken ✫ chapter tres ✫ finale

captain curly x teasing!reader

it’s been a month since your epiphany that Captain Curly has a sweet little crush on you, and you’ve been teasing him the entire time. what happens when you push him even closer to the edge? you asked that question, and here we are: Curly has officially broken.

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter

words: ~6.1k

t/w: sex, minors dni, overstimulation, fingering, REALLY OVERSTIMULATION, multiple orgasms, curly being a lil shit, so much yucky, gn!reader who wears a bra, no specific genitalia mentioned for reader (if i fucked up & did somewhere, pls lmk), any other things i should mention?

~jeremy does not exist in this world~

Planned Shipment Duration: 382 Days Elapsed Transit Time: 342 Days

Since the incident, you’ve noticed Curly’s behavior shift from his usual awkward-but-adorable responses to something else entirely—avoidance. Every conversation with him feels clipped, every interaction rushed. This avoidance comes to a head when you have to discuss the ship's fuel readings.

“Captain, can you double-check the fuel calibration?” you ask, stepping into the cockpit with a tablet in hand.

Curly is already seated at the console, his back stiffening at the sound of your voice. “It’s fine,” he mutters without looking up, his fingers flying over the controls.

You narrow your eyes. “Fine? It’s been showing inconsistencies for two days now. Can we be sure it won’t cause an issue later?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “I’ll… take care of it.” Still, he doesn’t glance at you, his gaze fixed on the screen as if the fuel levels are the most riveting thing he’s ever seen.

You step closer, placing the tablet on the console in front of him. “It’d be quicker if we checked it together,” you say, deliberately leaning over just slightly to try and catch his eyes.

But he shifts, pulling back as if your proximity physically burns. “I’ve got it,” he says tersely, still avoiding you.

The clipped tone stings more than you expect. You hesitate, studying him. His hands grip the edge of the console, the veins in his forearms standing out as though he’s using every ounce of willpower to keep his composure. He looks tired—no, exhausted—but there’s something else in his expression, something tight and defensive.

You pull back, watching him with a frown. There’s an ache in your chest you weren’t prepared for—a pang of guilt mixed with frustration. You liked teasing him, pushing his buttons just enough to see the cracks in his armor, but this? This feels different. It’s like he’s shut a door between the two of you, and you can’t help but wonder if you pushed too far.

You bite your lip, torn. Was it the water incident? The shirt? Or maybe it’s been everything—the touches, the flirtation, the unspoken tension you’ve been toying with for weeks. Whatever it is, the wall he’s built feels higher than before, and it leaves you restless, your stomach knotting with something that feels a lot like regret.

That night, sleep refuses to come. You lie in your bunk, staring at the dim ceiling of your cabin, your mind replaying every moment from the cockpit earlier. His stiffness, his avoidance, the way he couldn’t even look at you—it all swirls together, making your chest feel heavy.

Was he angry with you? Embarrassed? Or worse—had you made him so uncomfortable that he didn’t want to be around you anymore? The thought makes your throat tighten, and you sit up, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

The hum of the ship’s engines fills the silence of your cabin, steady and soothing, but it does little to calm the turmoil in your chest. You’ve been lying there for hours, staring at the ceiling, your blanket pushed to the side as your mind cycles endlessly.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

The look on Curly’s face earlier had been… different. It wasn’t just the usual exasperation you’d grown fond of teasing out of him. It was heavier, like he was carrying something you couldn’t quite name, something you weren’t sure you should have pulled at.

You close your eyes and groan quietly into the darkness, guilt and frustration twisting in equal measure. Sure, it’s fun to watch him squirm, to push his buttons just enough to see the cracks in that carefully constructed exterior. But you may have gone too far—even if the water spilling on your shirt was a complete accident. His jaw had set so tightly, his words clipped in a way that left no room for your usual playful retorts.

The memory sits heavy in your chest now, pressing down like a weight.

You roll over for the hundredth time, but the ache of regret and the nagging spark of curiosity keep you pinned wide awake. It’s not just the teasing, is it? Not really. It’s the way his silence speaks louder than his words, the way he looks at you like he’s bracing himself to lose something he doesn’t even have yet

You sigh, sitting up and running a hand through your hair. You know you should leave it alone, let him come to you when he’s ready, but patience has never been your strong suit.

Sliding out of the bunk, you glance at the reflection of your sleepwear in the metal panel across the room. The skimpy fabric makes you hesitate, but only for a moment. If you’re honest with yourself, part of you still wants to provoke him. But another part—the part twisting in your gut—just wants to be able to speak to him normally again.

The ship feels colder at night, the air biting against your bare skin as you make your way down the narrow corridor. The faint glow spilling from the cockpit confirms your suspicion: he’s there, just as you expected.

You pause in the doorway, your heart beating harder than you’d like. He hasn’t noticed you yet. His head is bowed, his fingers raking through his messy blond hair as he leans over the console. He looks… defeated. The sight sends a pang through you, sharp and unwelcome.

Taking a breath, you step inside, keeping your voice soft as you speak. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He straightens abruptly, his shoulders stiffening as his chair creaks under the sudden movement. His eyes meet yours for a moment before flicking downward and darting back up, his jaw clenching. You catch the faintest flush across his cheeks, but his expression is unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” His tone is flat, but there’s a strain beneath it, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You try to smile, but it falters. Stepping closer, you cross your arms, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than you expected. “I—” You stop, unsure of how to begin. “I just… I wanted to check on you.”

His brows furrow, suspicion flickering across his face. “Check on me?”

“Yeah.” You force a small laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. “You seemed… off earlier.” You hesitate, glancing at the console to avoid his gaze.

The silence that follows feels heavier than when the ship’s gravity went haywire and pushed down on you all. You risk a glance at him, only to find him watching you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. His hands grip the armrests of his chair like they’re the only thing anchoring him, his knuckles pale.

“It’s fine,” he says finally, his voice tight, controlled. Too controlled. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

The way he says it makes something inside you crack. You know that tone, the one he uses to push people away, to keep himself locked behind walls you’ve only just started to glimpse behind. And it hurts.

“Curly…” You step closer. “That’s not what I—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his voice sharper now, his eyes flashing with something you can’t quite name.

But you don’t back down. Not this time.

“Don’t what?” you challenge, leaning closer to him. You keep your voice soft, almost hesitant, but there’s no mistaking the edge behind it. “Don’t worry about you? Don’t care?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might not answer. He just stares at you, his stormy blue eyes locked on yours, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he finally says, but there’s no conviction in the words. They’re a shield, flimsy and cracking.

You tilt your head, your voice dropping lower. “Why not?”

“Because…” He looks away, running a hand down his face, and you see the way his fingers tremble. When his gaze snaps back to yours, there’s fire in it, raw and unfiltered. “Because I can’t keep doing this, alright? I can’t—”

He stops himself, his voice breaking on the last word, and your heart stumbles in your chest.

“Can’t what?” you press, taking another step closer, your bare feet brushing against the cool floor. Your voice softens, and this time there’s no teasing, no game. “Curly, just tell me.”

He lets out a frustrated sound, somewhere between a growl and a groan, and rises abruptly from his chair. The suddenness of it makes you flinch, but you hold your ground.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is louder now, but it’s not anger—it’s desperation, raw and bleeding. “You waltz in here in your—” His eyes flick down to your barely-there pajamas before snapping back up, his expression torn. “—your… whatever that is, and you look at me like that, and you think it’s funny, don’t you? Messing with me, pushing me, like it’s all some game!”

You blink, stunned by the outpouring of words. “I—”

“No,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking. “You don’t get to talk right now. Do you know how hard I’ve been trying? Trying to keep this… whatever it is… locked down? To keep things professional, to not…” He trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to dislodge the thought.

“To not what?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“To not ruin everything!” he bursts out, and the words hang in the air between you, heavy and unrelenting. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, waking up every damn day and seeing you, knowing I can’t—shouldn’t—feel this way?”

His chest heaves, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He’s closer now, the space between you shrinking with every ragged breath.

He leans in closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the flicker of hesitation before he barrels on. “Do you know what it’s like to sit next to you every day, to have you so close and know I can’t touch you? Can’t tell you?” His laugh is bitter, almost self-deprecating. “God, I can’t even think straight when you’re around. You’ve got me walking into walls, screwing up flight routes, forgetting my own bloody name half the time.”

“Curly…” You reach out, but he grabs your wrist before you can touch him, his grip firm but not painful.

“Don’t,” he says again, but this time it’s a plea, his voice breaking. His gaze locks on yours, his eyes glassy with an emotion you’ve never seen from him before.

And then, before you can say anything, he moves.

In one swift motion, he pushes you back against the console, his hands braced on either side of you, caging you in. His face is inches from yours, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the unsteady rhythm of his breath.

“I can’t…” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, but you don’t move, don’t dare to break the fragile moment hanging between you.

“Then don’t,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His eyes search yours, and for a heartbeat, everything stands still. Then, with a groan that sounds like defeat, he closes the gap, capturing your lips with his in a kiss so fierce it steals the breath from your lungs.

The kiss is not soft or measured, but raw, desperate, and full of everything he’s been holding back for months. His lips crash against yours with an intensity that makes your knees go weak, and you gasp into him, feeling the weight of all his pent-up frustration pouring out into this moment.

His hands, rough and calloused, grip the edges of the console beside your hips like he’s barely holding himself together. You feel the tension in his arms, the way his muscles cord and flex, the sheer power of him caging you in.

And then, suddenly, his hands shift. One moves to your jaw, tilting your face to deepen the kiss, while the other slides down to your hip, pinning you firmly to the console beneath you. The cool surface bites against your skin, grounding you as his fingers wrap around you with just enough force to keep you there without hurting you.

He pulls away for a moment, searching your eyes for any hint of rejection, finding none.

You open your mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His lips crash back down onto yours, more insistent this time, as if he’s trying to erase every teasing word and playful glance you’ve ever thrown his way.

His body presses closer, and you’re keenly aware of every inch of him—the strength in his broad shoulders, the solid weight of his chest against yours, the way his body is being held between your thighs (which you’ve just realized that you wrapped around him), keeping you and him firmly in place. His free hand trails down your side, his touch firm and possessive.

“Curly,” you keen, eyes fogged from the kisses he just gave you.

“Don’t,” he warns, his voice low and rough. “Not unless you’re ready to take responsibility for what you’ve started.”

The words send a shiver through you, and you meet his gaze, your breath catching at the unrestrained emotion in his expression—anger, yes, but also longing, vulnerability, and an aching kind of need that makes your chest tighten.

“I’m not sorry,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling but steady enough to hold his gaze.

His lips curl into a gentle smile, and he shakes his head, leaning in until his forehead rests against yours. “I expected such,” he murmurs, his voice softer now but no less intense.

And then he kisses you again, slower this time, but just as overwhelming. It’s less about frustration now and more about everything else—the want, the need, the relief of finally letting it out. His hand slides from your hip to thread his fingers through yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if to soften the moment, to remind you that despite the force of it all, he’s still Curly.

Even then, as he pulls his lips away to trail his kisses down that delicious neck of yours that he’s been fantasizing about for the past couple months, he bucks his hips into yours subconsciously.

His eyes widen at the realization of what he just did, and he’s just about to apologize when he hears your soft groan, your hips grinding back into his.

You’re going to be the end of him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his mind goes entirely blank while reaching his hands to grab onto the mounds of your chest as he places wet kisses all over your neck.

The sensation makes you gasp—his warm lips suckling all over the crook of your neck, trailing slightly further down as his large, warm hands grasp at you, fingers gliding against the thin fabric over to the tips of your nipples. He teases it over the fabric, each graze sending a jolt down your core as his pants get tighter.

You watch as Curly’s eyes glaze over while looking at the thin fabric of your shirt, watching your nipples peak and harden under his ministrations. One of his hands pulls away from a breast, brushing down your body until he pulls the skimpy fabric of your shorts and your underwear to the side and places his fingers right onto your heat at just the right spot, rubbing at it.

Your gasping, arms tightening around his neck, and your hands gripping at the hair on the base of his neck only serves to spur him on. His eyes are still hazy with a sheen of lust as he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them lasciviously before easing a finger inside your hole, slowly massaging at your walls until he finds your most delicious spot.

When you tense up and you let out another gasp, his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, knowing that he’s found it. As you reach up to capture his lips with yours, he slips another finger in.

As you’re kissing, you let out a choked moan as he only rubs against that little spot more, fingers starting to curl up rougher and faster. His fingers filled you up so well—so thick and long, pressing your insides in all the right places.

When you clench and spasm around his fingers, you expect him to slow down, but his fingers only get faster through your orgasm. You squeak in response, and his eyes are hooded as he finger fucks you into oblivion.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growls against your lips, his voice thick with frustration and something darker. His breath fans hot against your cheek as he pulls back just enough to speak, his eyes blazing as they meet yours. “To push me until I couldn’t take it anymore?”

His face is a storm of emotions, each one fighting for dominance. His jaw is tight, clenched as though he was holding back. His lips are red and slightly swollen from the kiss, a stark contrast against the stubble shadowing his sharp jawline.

But it’s his eyes that leave you breathless—dark and blazing with an intensity that borders on feral. Those blue eyes, turbulent and unyielding, locking onto yours like they’re searching for every answer you’ve ever hidden. It combines with the feeling of his fingers pressing you in the right spot, making you see stars.

“You’ve been playing with fire, haven’t you?” he breathes, his voice rough and biting. His lips curl into something that’s not quite a smile—a shadow of one, edged with frustration and disbelief. “All those looks, those little comments. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

His hand at the console shifts, and he presses a little closer, his body heat seeping into you. “God, do you have any idea what it’s been like? Watching you parade around like that? Laughing, teasing, pretending you don’t notice what you’re doing to me?” His words are a low snarl now, sharp with exasperation and tinged with lust as he drives his fingers deep into you, earning a squeal from your lips.

“Every time I thought I had it under control, you’d pull something new. A touch here. Showing off some skin there.” His free hand slides along your jaw, his thumb brushing deliberately across your cheekbone. His touch is gentle, almost a mockery of the fire behind his words and the intensity behind his fingers. “You really thought I would break eventually, didn’t you?”

His eyes flicker to your lips, and his fingers keep curling and thrusting inside you in a way that makes you squeak. The sound makes his gaze snap back to your eyes, his expression darkening further. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself from this onslaught of pleasure.

“Was this the plan all along?” he taunts, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “To push me so far I’d lose control? Or were you just so sure I’d never cross that line?” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, congratulations. You’ve got me right where you want me.”

He pulls back just far enough to meet your eyes again, his lips curling into a wicked smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So tell me,” he murmurs, his tone both a challenge and a warning, “what are you going to do now?” Your gummy walls clench on his fingers as he works you undone again—with both his fingers and his words.

“Please,” you keen, voice breathless. “Just fuck me, Captain.”

The use of his title in that pleasure-drenched voice of yours makes him sharply inhale. He leaned back, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he says, his voice low and commanding. "You're going to need to be ready for me. Really ready. So, I’m going to take my time." He knew the company regulations like the back of his hand—no personal items, especially not the kind that could be used for pleasure. And he knew you hadn't had anyone else in almost a year.

Your eyes go wide with shock as he speaks, and you realize what he meant. "But I... I've been... stretching," you protested, face heating up at the implication.

Curly's smile grows, and he leans down, his mouth hovering just above yours. "With your fingers?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement. "That's not enough. Not for what I've got in store for you." You look up at him in shock.

"Trust me," he murmurs against your lips. "You'll thank me for it later. Especially when I break you like you tried to break me. I’ll have you begging, you little tease." His words send shivers of excitement up your spine.

With that, he slides his hand back down your body, his fingers slipping into you again. Your muscles are still contracting from the aftershocks of your two climaxes. He pumps his fingers in and out, watching your face contort with pleasure and overstimulation. But he knew he had to prepare you, had to make sure you could take him.

He leans in, whispering in your ear. "You're going to come again," he tells you, his voice a promise. "And then again. And each time, I'm going to make you feel so good that you'll forget your name."

Your eyes close, breath coming in short pants as you moan into his mouth. Curly revels in the feeling and the view of your hips moving in time with his touch.

Curly slides in a third finger, curling them gently, feeling the slickness of your arousal. Your eyes fly open, and you look at him with a mix of shock and need. "Curly," you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand, hole stretching around his fingers. "Please..." He strokes you in a steady rhythm, watching your face contort with pleasure. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet, but the occasional whimper escapes.

He pushes your tiny tank top up, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling it as he continues to play with you. Your hands pull him closer, urging him on. He can feel your body tightening, your legs starting to tremble. He knew you were close.

And then it happened. With a cry, you cum again, your muscles clenching around his fingers. He still doesn’t stop, though, instead curling his fingers deeper inside you, keeping the pressure on your sweet spot. Your orgasm went on and on, your body shaking with pleasure, legs giving out.

As the last of your tremors subside, he pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth. He tastes you, watching as your face heats up. "So good," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’m going to push you until you can’t take it anymore.”

Without warning, he slams his mouth onto your core, his tongue flicking you rapidly. You scream, hips jerking up. Your nails claw at the console, searching for any kind of purchase before gripping his blonde locks.

Curly feels the warmth of your orgasm wash over his hand and lips, juices coating his fingers and face as he watches you come apart in front of him. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you let out a guttural cry, body arching.

He waits for you to open your eyes, to look at him with the same hunger he feels burning in his gut. When you do, there are tears in the corners of your eyes, and you’re panting. "Please," you beg, voice a whimper. "Please, Curly. I need you inside me." Your vision was already starting to go blurry, and you felt a slight twinge of dizziness from all the mind-numbing orgasms.

His only response is a shit-eating grin and his fingers continuing to work you open. The sound of your wetness fills the cockpit, and he couldn't help but groan. You’re so tight, so perfect. And all his. He watches your face as he works into you, his tongue circling you in time with his fingers curling up and down, thrusting in and out. You’re close, so close to breaking altogether, and he can feel the tension building in your body.

“Curly, please, I-” And then, with a scream, you cum again, gushing wetness all over his hand and face. He pulls away, wiping it from his cheek with a grin.

"See?" he says, his voice filled with pride and eyes filled with darkness. "I told you I'd make you beg for it."

Your chest heaves, breath coming in ragged gasps. You stare up at him, eyes glazed. "Curly," you whisper with a needy voice. "Please... I need you."

He stood up, his cock straining against his pants. "Not yet," he said again, his voice firm. "We have all night."

He reaches down, helping you to your feet. You sway slightly, legs weak from the intense orgasms. He swiftly picks you up and carries you to the Captain’s Quarters. The crew is asleep. The only sounds are the steady hum of the Tulpar's engines and your two footsteps.

Once inside, he places you down onto his bed gently, your legs still shaking. He hovers over you, his eyes dark with hunger. He kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you and your desire. You moan, hands reaching up to tug at his shirt.

He breaks the kiss, pulling his shirt off. Your eyes scrape up and down the sight of his bare chest, his muscles rippling in the dim light. He leans back in, his mouth moving down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles. You shiver, skin sensitive from the previous orgasms.

Curly slides his hand down to your hole again, his thumb pressing against you as he kisses his way down your body. You gasp, hips rising to meet his touch. He spread open your legs revealing you, all bare and wet. He took a moment to appreciate the view, your swollen hole and the glisten of your arousal—the glisten of your multiple orgasms.

With a groan, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking over you at the perfect spot. You almost scream, the sensation too much. He slides two fingers inside, desperate to continue stretching out your inner muscles.

He licks and sucks, his mouth a symphony of pleasure. You cum again, body bowing off the bed, hands tangling in his hair. He doesn’t let up, his tongue relentless, his fingers curling inside you, pushing you to the edge once more. Your cries grow louder, more frantic, until you’re almost screaming. And then, just as suddenly, you go quiet.

Your eyes roll back in your head, and you go limp beneath him as your body refuses to stop twitching. Curly pulls back, panting, his mouth wet with your essence. He watches your chest heave, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He knows you’re on the edge, just about to shatter into pieces.

He slides his fingers out of you, watching the way you quiver.

He stands, his own desire clear in the bulge in his pants. "You’re doing so good," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now you're ready." Curly chuckles as he watches your muscles twitch. “So cute,” he mumbles as he zips his jumpsuit down all the way and pulls his boxers down. It's massive, thick and long, standing erect and flushed with arousal.

You’re still unable to form words, eyes blank as you come down from the onslaught of pleasure. Your eyes flutter open when you feel him getting back onto the bed, chest heaving as you stare up at him. "Curly," you breathe, voice shaky. "I don’t… I don’t know if I can take it anymore."

He leans over you, eyes dark with need. "You can," he says, his voice firm. "You will. And you're the one who begged for it."

Curly lines up his cock with your slick entrance, the tip kissing you lightly. It's hot, and you can feel the pulse of his excitement. His reddened tip is so much larger than what you've felt before, veins standing out. Your eyes widen, looking at the size of him, and you feel your stomach flip.

Slowly, with a look of absolute focus, he starts to push in, watching your face as you bite your lip to keep from screaming. The head of his cock, that angry red tip, breaches your entrance, and you can feel your body stretching around its thickness. He goes so slowly, so carefully, that you can't help but trust him. The veins on his shaft stand out like roads on a map, and they feel like they're carving into you as he slides in inch by inch.

The pressure is intense, but you’re so wet, so ready for him. He slides in deeper, feeling you stretch around him. Your walls cling to him, and he knows he'd never felt anything so amazing. He pauses for a moment, savoring the sensation.

And to his surprise, you cum again, walls tightening around his cock. A keening sound tears from your throat, and you buck your hips against him, trying to push him deeper. He holds you still, watching your face, feeling your walls pulse around him.

It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, a wave of pleasure so intense it almost brought him to his knees. “Fuck,” his eyes squeeze shut, voice hoarse.

But he doesn’t stop. He couldn't. He pushes in further, feeling you tighten even more. You were whining now, a high-pitched sound that seemed to echo through the room. He knows he’s hitting all the right spots, that you were on the edge again. And he was going to make sure you fell over it.

You're so wet, so ready for him, that he's able to ease into you with surprising ease, despite his size. Each time he pushes in, you feel your muscles resisting before giving way, your body adapting to his thickness. Your walls clench around him, trying to get used to the feeling of being so full, so claimed. It's as if every part of you is being rewritten, every nerve ending remapped to accommodate his size.

His thumbs press gently against your pulse points, feeling the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. “You’ve been in my head for months. Twisting me up so bad I can’t tell what’s real anymore. Hell, I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you.” His voice has dropped lower, huskier, the edges roughened by emotion and strain.

The feeling of fullness is intense, almost overwhelming, but it's mixed with an aching need for more. You can feel your body stretching, adjusting to his size, and it's both slightly painful and incredibly arousing. He's so much larger than any toy you've ever used, and the thought of taking all of him sends a fresh wave of desire through you.

You glance up at his form, the dim artificial lights overhead casting a faint, bluish hue across his bare chest. His skin glistens faintly, a sheen of sweat highlighting the sculpted lines of his muscles—the curve of his shoulders, the sharp planes of his chest, and the ripple of his abdomen. Shadows deepen in the grooves between his ribs and along the flex of his arms as he shifts, his every movement purposeful, almost mesmerizing. There’s faint golden hair dusting his chest and trailing down his stomach.

The sight of him makes you coo, “Curly, you’re so perfect.”

His eyes never leave yours, and in them you now see a fierce concentration, a hunger that's been building for a long time. The head of his cock reaches deep into you, and you arch your back, the sensation overwhelming. You're so full you feel like you might burst. But then he pulls out slightly, only to push back in even deeper, and it's as if you've been hit by a bolt of lightning.

With one final, powerful thrust, he's all the way in, and you let out a cry that echoes through the cabin. Your nails dig into his back, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. His cock is so big, so hard, that you feel it in every part of you, filling you up in a way you never knew was possible.

Your hips are moving, rutting against him, urging him deeper.

He starts to move, his hips rocking into yours, his cock sliding in and out of your tight hole. You moan, the feeling so intense that you don’t know if you can handle it. Orgasms roll through you, one after another, each one more powerful than the last. You couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, they just blended together into a never-ending crescendo of pleasure.

Curly's movements then become more forceful, his thrusts deeper and faster. Each time he fills you, you can feel your inner muscles clench around him, trying to hold onto that delicious feeling of fullness. He groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to pick up the pace.

Tears slide down your cheeks as he fucks you, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. Your eyes are now squeezed shut, and all you can see was the bright white light of pure ecstasy. You don’t know if you can take it, don’t know if you could handle his size, his strength. But you don’t want him to stop.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you. It's primal, animalistic, and you can't help but get lost in it—in the feeling of his body pressing into yours, in the heat of his breath against your neck, in the way your orgasms build and crash over you like waves.

Your body starts to shake, your muscles tensing as you feel another climax building. You look up at him, eyes pleading, and he leans down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss. It's as if he knows exactly what you need, and he's more than willing to give it to you.

Curly starts to hit that spot inside you with every thrust, the one that makes your toes curl and your vision blur. You moan into his mouth, your hips rising to meet his, desperate for more. Fuck, but you don’t know if you can take it anymore. He's relentless, his cock driving into you, stretching you further and further until you think you'll shatter into a million pieces.

And then, with one final, powerful thrust, you do.

You push him away, just enough for his cock to pop out of you, and you squeal. “‘Curly,” you keen, twitching all over as you release all over yourself, him, and his sheets. His dick twitches as he watches you spasm all over his bed, coating both of you in your cum and slick.

The corners of your eyes sting with tears of pleasure, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Curly’s gaze doesn’t waver, his lips slightly parted as he watches you, his chest rising and falling with his own labored breaths.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his voice hoarse and rough. Then, without hesitation, he flips you over with a strength that sends your pulse racing all over again. His hands are firm yet careful, a mix of desperation and reverence in the way he touches you.

“You drive me insane,” he growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. The weight of his words settles over you, and you know this is far from over. His frustration, his need, his months of pent-up tension—all of it is unraveling here and now, and you’re the one holding the thread.

And with those words, you know it’s going to be a long, unforgettable night. The thought crosses your mind in a brief, hazy moment of clarity: How are you supposed to walk tomorrow? But the question is quickly swept away, drowned in the whirlwind of Curly’s relentless thrusting and the electric heat between you.

Hours later, when the two of you finally collapse into each other, exhausted and sated, there’s a rare, blissful quiet in the air. His arm drapes over you after he cleans you up, heavy and warm, pulling you against his chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing lulls you into a peace you haven’t felt in ages.

For the first time in years, Curly sleeps soundly. No tossing, no turning, no restless hours spent staring at the ceiling. In his dreams, as in reality, you’re there with him. And ever since then, he hasn’t had any insomnia.

And you? You have no regrets.

a/n: the finale~~ let me know what y'all think!

oh yeah.. smut.. neverending smut..

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics.

also might be accepting requests hehe! i can’t guarantee that i can do em, but i’ll accept ideas!

btw. not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos/inconsistencies stay safe & hydrated as always!

(and go to sleep if you’re reading this super late. don’t be a curly. take care of yourself!)

thanks for reading! <3

crossposted on ao3

taglist: @m-carriaga2021, @skyeconch

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter

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artzybunny · 1 month ago

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Pardon my wth background, i was out of ideas and with a big headache so i just blazed some brushes around like Im Picasso or sum TUMBLR THEY ARE DRESSED

Hope you like them ♥️

#digital artist #art #digital art #fanart #artists on tumblr #anya mouthwashing #captain curly #anya x curly #mouthwashing #mouthwashing fandom #mouthwashing fanart #curly fanart #anya fanart #curly x anya fanart #curly x anya #steamy #fluff

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grimmsbride · 25 days ago

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USELESS FUCKING JANITOR [ daisuke / reader ]

after a small incident with jimmy, you’re left feeling miserable and a little bad for yourself. luckily a certain useless ray of sunshine pops in just to comfort you

notes / this originally was gonna be smut but i decided to go a different direction, whilst the next daisuke fic will def be smut. please enjoy and please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

You hadn’t know the co-captain for long. You didn’t know much about his background, values, or morals. You didn’t know a thing about him, yet you knew enough to steer clear of his path. Something about him was unnerving, and sometimes downright odd. One such being the way he loved to pick people apart. Metaphorically digging his fingers into a person, pulling each little insecurity as if perfect bullets for his emotional ammo. You’ve seen Jimmy do this to Anya, reminding her of her flaws and lack of accomplishments. You wondered how exactly she continued the day as if his words had no effect. Like water off a duck’s back.

Other times it was his captain and even friend Curly. Though far in between. While few times it was Daisuke, the only bundle of optimism left tracking around the ship. You couldn’t deny the affection you were slowly developing for the other. Was it simply you being a hormonal young woman in close capacity with another hormonal young man surrounded by grumpy older people? Or was it something else? Either way you couldn’t deny the way your stomach fluttered each time he would smile at you, wave, or even blink in your direction.

Let alone how he met Jimmy’s usually harsh words with a bright beam of a smile, declaring he’ll do better. Only for the co-captain to sigh and mumble something under his breath, truly bothered by the intern’s existence.

If only you were capable of taking a piece of his personality in times like this.

The day had started off simple, you walking around; earbuds shoved in whilst cleaning up. From dusting, scrubbing, to wiping down surfaces; you were nearly done with your daily duties. Unless of course someone made a mess later, but the others were luckily nice enough to clean up after themselves like the grown people they were.

The last task was to mop, one you dreaded quite a bit. While the clean smell the chemicals left behind were a nice touch, you truly hated how heavy the mop got or how bulky that ugly yellow bucket was. Regardless of your opinion you had a job to do, and fulfill it you would.

The wheels squeaked against the floors as you dragged the large bucket, the chemical-water swishing against the walls of the plastic container. You slowed your dragging as you came across the hallway, humming softly along to the music currently blasting in your ears.

You silently thanked your past self for the taking the time to pack your i-pod, knowing you wouldn’t be able to survive a second on this place without it. And despite Curly’s slight reservations about it — safety and all that — he didn’t bother you much since you got your work done efficiently.

Plunging the long stringed mop into the water, you slowly lifted the heavy weight up and between the unholy yellow contraption. Grabbing the black bar, you pushed, wringing out the excess water for a moment before releasing the mop from the tension. Once satisfied you lifted the mop out, slowly dragging it against the floor in careful strides, assuring each space was throughly cleaned.

In the midst of your focus, and between songs; you couldn’t help but hear a voice you came to enjoy. Your eyes flicked to the side, spotting Daisuke standing in the main lobby, wearing a nervous smile whilst his mentor stood over him.

You couldn’t make out everything they were saying but you got the gist from the expressions plastered across their faces. One of irritation and the other of nervousness. Nine times out of ten Daisuke accidentally messed something up with his overzealous nature once again.

You rose the mop blindly, plunging it into the water just when the man glanced over at you. You spotted a little crinkle of his lips, his once nervous smile growing just a bit cheeky. You could only chuckle softly, lip quickly being bit to silence your laughter. The last thing you wanted to do was get on Swansea’s bad side as well.

Unfortunately, however, with your focus elsewhere you hadn’t even realized how rough you were being with the mop. Attempting to pull it out suddenly grew difficult the moment it got caught on the edge of the bucket, tipping it forward and soon falling.

Just in time for a certain co-captain to be walking by.

All color drained from your face as a loud swear fell from his lips. Your eyes settled onto the man, spotting the darker colored fabric of his uniform. Luckily there was no bleach in the bucket.

Jimmy glared down at his clothes before turning the harsh stare to you.

“Are you incapable of mopping or something?”

You swallowed harshly, gripping the handle of your mop nervously. “I—i’m sorry Jimmy, I..”

“You have the easiest job in this entire place and you still manage to find a way to fuck it up.”

You clammed shut instantly, watching his lips continue to move yet not hearing a thing. You felt raw and open under the harmful speech he uttered, forcing yourself to breathe as not to shed tears. You had done so well before keeping your head down near this man, escaping his radar as not to cause tension.

But of course, your luck ran out in this exact second.

“Useless fucking janitor..” Jimmy finished, walking off, shoes noticeably squeaking with each step. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your rapid heartbeat slow the moment he was out of earshot. Still, his words rung through your mind, clouding it and soon your vision.

You blinked rapidly, quickly moving to lift the bucket and clean up the mess you created.

All under the watchful eye of a certain someone.

“Hey, what are you listening to?”

Your eyes slowly rose from the floor of your room, drifting over to the young man currently occupying space in the doorway. His lips were curled into a little smile, tapping his fingers against the entryway for a moment before stepping inside fully— the door sliding behind him.

You shrugged a little, waving your i-pod lazily. “Some random song.” You mumbled back, attention going back to the floor as drums and singing filled your ears. Usually you were up for conversation, loving to go on tangents about the music blasting in your ears. Through your talks, it felt as if you were still connecting to your home back on Earth.

Earth.. oh how you wished to go home. Away from that god forsaken co-captain that just loved to ruin another’s day. It’s not like it’s your fault his life is so shitty. He shouldn’t take it out on you or anyone else for that matter.

Stewing in your anger, you hadn’t notice Daisuke come even closer until he was standing right beside you. In a split moment he was dropping to sit beside you, knee grazing your own as he crossed his legs.

“Mind if I listen?”

You thumbed the circle button of the little device, lips pursed stubbornly. No, you can’t listen. I rather stew and rewind that complete embarrassment of a lecture I received hours ago. Was your first thought, ready to leave your tongue as your eyes darted over to the other.

Except you couldn’t. Not when he was smiling like that, so sweetly; eyes crinkled and pretty lips curled. You swallowed silently, a shaky hand lifting to the earbud closest to him and extending it towards the other. His fingers grazed your own as he grabbed the bud gently, coming just a bit closer to you as he tucked the bud into his ear.

Daisuke’s head went slack, hands falling to his lap as the music ran through his ear. It’s been a while since he heard good music like this. Not the typical instrumentals Swansea played — albeit rarely — when they were working. No, this was perfect. A nice reminder to what he has back home.

“Let me ask, do you listen to this music when you’re cleaning up?”

You nodded slowly, moving a bit uncomfortably whilst leaning back into your bed. “Yeah.. I can clean without music but ya know, I prefer it.”

“I get what you mean. Helps you stay focused doesn’t it?”

Daisuke peeked at you, causing your mouth to run dry; deciding just to nod. A silence entered the room shortly after, the two of you simply listening to your music; your lips slowly moving to mouth the lyrics. Within the second chorus of the song, was when Daisuke spoke again.

“What Jimmy said earlier..”

You shook your head, “Daisuke, you don’t have to say anything. I’m not a child, I don’t need to be consoled after being lectured.” You said cynically, eyebrows furrowing just a little as you glanced at anything but him.

But, the young man didn’t let up. Daisuke gently begun again;

“I’m not consoling you. Just.. reminding you how cool you are.”

You snorted at his words, eyes finally stealing away from the floor to glance at him. “You being funny?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. You watched, in a rather annoyed manner, as the man shook his head— with enough force his earbud slid a bit, causing him to quickly adjust it.

Despite his assurance, you weren’t convinced.. at all.

“I’m a janitor, Daisuke. I highly doubt that’s cool.”

You watched as his eyes rolled, furthering your minor irritation and confusion.

“You’re a janitor.. yeah— but think about it!” Daisuke hummed, flashing another one of his perfect smiles. “Without you this ship would be filthy, smell bad, and maybe even dusty. Terrible conditions for someone to work or live in.”

You glanced away, struggling to keep your lips in a neutral position. “Anyone can clean, Daisuke.”

“Yeah but you’re the one doing it. Not me, Curly, Anya, Swansea— or Jimmy. You are..”

You shivered as you felt gentle fingers on the back of your hand, causing your eyes to blink back to the other occupying the space beside you. Drifting from that sweet smile down to your hand, you noticed his fingers gently tracing your knuckles for a moment. The feeling was.. pleasant, intimate— enough that a heat of warmth flushed from your chest all the way to your cheeks.

“—You’re just as important as anyone else on this ship.” Daisuke hummed, stealing your attention back to his words. With ease the man was curling his fingers around your hand, turning it over to then link his digits with your own.

“At least I think so. And..”

This time Daisuke leaned close, lips just a breath’s away from your ear. “Whatever you splashed on Jimmy just made him smell.. wayyy better.”

You snorted, now all smiles and teeth as laughter escaped you. Your own pleasant sounds mixed with his, the two of you bumping into each other in the midst of your joy. You hadn’t even noticed the squeeze he was giving to your hand, nor the way your head was practically leaning onto his shoulder.

Moments of this bliss passed before you two could slowly settle down, realization of your current positions quickly dawning on you. Your eyes drifted to the hold resting on your lap, the cool sliver ring he wore rubbing against your heated skin. Your eyes rose from the hold and over to the man beside you, spotting him already looking at you.

Again, that same warmth overtook you— the same warmth that has been doing so for months; every time you looked at this bundle of sunshine. Your lips curled in onto themself, struggling to keep eye contact as nothing seemed to swirl in the eyes staring back at you.

Only when they suddenly flicked to your lips did you get even an inkling of what he wanted. Luckily, the feeling was definitely mutual.

Squeezing his hand, you moved closer— Daisuke meeting your advance and pressing his lips to your own. The kiss was slow, full of uncertainty yet passionate enough that same bliss trickled throughout your entire body. His thumb circled your skin, whilst his other hand reached over to gently grab your arm.

Moments passed before the two of you were satisfied, or more like out of breath; pulling away as your chests rose and fell in tandem. Your head lowered to rest against his shoulder, smiling to yourself as his warmth and your music consumed you.

“So uh.. does this mean we’re… together?”

You chuckled softly, turning to stamp a kiss against his neck, feeling him shiver.

“Yes Daisuke.”

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black tumblr #black!reader #chubby reader #poc writer #black reader #x reader #/ reader #reader insert #fluff #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke mw #intern daisuke #reader x daisuke #▌ ִ ♱⠀ׂ ִ gooey ⸺ fics. 𒀭

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