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monsterinmyboxers · 7 months

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STRESS RELIEF. craig cahn x male reader. — ft. thigh-fucking + praise + self-facial.

this camping trip seemed to help craig a lot more than either of you expected.

the first time you saw him, it seemed that he had it all together. he had matured greatly since college, that much was obvious. it was honestly impressive how much he grew over the years, considering how he used to be.

but, the more he opened up, the more you felt the need to take care of him. in more ways than one.

he was fully capable, and you knew that, yet the urge to give him everything and more was strong. might be a dad thing, or you love him more than you originally thought. it was probably both.

you both sat in content silence for a moment, after you gave some much needed words of confirmation and comfort, only small crackles of the campfire heard. this night made craig realize how tired he really was, and that you could remind him to reward himself with a break or two. you could muffle that voice in his head saying he doesn't deserve it.

"if you could only see yourself the way i see you."

he was staring into the stars, but once you spoke his gaze instantly locked onto yours. craig wasn't one to back down from eye contact, yet in this moment, he's never felt more inclined to look away. his heartbeat was erratic, his breathing no different, he was smiling so hard his cheeks started to hurt━ and, fortunately for him, he couldn't feel the blush spreading down to his neck due to the fire.

he glances back down at his feet, in fear of confessing to you right then and there. maybe he should've, maybe that was the right moment and he just lost it, forever. no, he can't start thinking that way, not now. he was so close. shit, where had his confidence gone?

quickly, he thinks of something else to focus on, shuffling over to his bag of supplies. "c'mon, i brought dessert." he didn't look at you, didn't dare to, but he could just feel your gaze, all over him. how could you not stare? he was half fucking naked, in damp boxers. you didn't lie before, his ass looks great.

"oh, are you gonna use the campfire to torch the tops of some crème brûlée?" a pause. he still doesn't turn to face you. "what?" and another. "i know little to nothing about cooking." he laughs at that, then pulls a bag of marshmallows from the bag. "well, you still know how to make s'mores, right?"

you both are once again sat next to each other, this time with s'mores in your hands, craig having one, while you were on your third. despite having more than him, you were much cleaner than he was. he doesn't eat things like this often, so you aren't that surprised.

besides, you don't mind a mess.

casually, silently, you bring a thumb up and wipe some of the melted marshmallow off the corner of his lip, then licking it off your finger. he froze at your touch, rough but comforting, just as a dad should be.

and he watches as you take it into your mouth, so calm about the entire thing while he freaked the fuck out.

"the stars are so much brighter out here." your voice was smooth, low, and gave the slightest rasp whenever you ended a sentence. it scratched every itch he had inside him, and made them throb even more with pure need. he loved the feeling. craig, no, don't let yourself ruin this. "yeah. i missed this."

you smile. "me too."

you both reminisced about old memories, until the fire finally died down and it got late. climbing into the tent, while you unfurl your sleeping bag, craig speaks. "wait, where's the other sleeping bag?" you look around. huh. "oh, i must've left it at home." on purpose? on accident? you honestly can't remember what your intentions were. but later on, you'll thank yourself, you just don't know that yet.

"it's all yours dude, i'm sorry. i'll just.. curl up over here." you hand the sleeping bag over. "no way. here-" craig would grab it, but instead of keeping it for himself, he'd unzip it completely so both of you could lay on it. you fit, somewhat. you appreciate the gesture, nonetheless.

"night, bro." laughter escapes you, without permission. you just find the nickname funny, he's used it since the day you met him, and probably before that. "goodnight, bro."

you're laying down, back-to-back with one another, no blanket. it's cold. your body shivers, and without realizing it, you scoot closer to craig. that's when you felt his breath on the back of your neck, he turned over. you do the same, attempting to get more comfortable. eventually, you accept the fact that this isn't working, and look at the man in front of you. and the sight was heavenly.

he wasn't asleep, not fully anyway, you've seen your daughter fake sleep enough times to know the difference. yet, he looked so peaceful, face void of any stress or exhaustion as it had earlier.

trailing down, you examine over his body, sucking in a breath once you come across the slight dip on his side, and his v-line. you want to outline his muscles, feel the goosebumps form along his skin.

but before you could think any longer, his eyes flutter open. quickly, you notice, and tear your gaze away from his waist. by that look he gave you, he knew what you were doing, what you were thinking. there was something there that darkened them, something weighing in his pupils, it made him all the more attractive.

neither of you knew who leaned in first, but suddenly you were kissing, each more passionate than the last. once you pull away, you struggle to come up with something to say, luckily craig already had it planned out.

"i got feelings for you, bro. feelings i can't deny anymore." awfully poetic, in your opinion. either way, it made you smile. "bro, me too."

you chuckle, as craig shifts positions. he seemed hesitant at first, but the hold you had on his sides encouraged him, even boosted his confidence. you made him feel desirable. "you know, talking about old times is fun, but.." he was sat on top of you now, straddling your hips, thick thighs heating your lap. everything felt so much warmer than before. "i like making new memories with you." his hands cup your face, thumbs caressing the skin under your eyes.

this time, neither of you break eye contact.

well, that was until you kissed, never parting for long, taking the smallest breaks possible to breathe before continuing. your palms travel, allowing themselves to finally feel every inch of him. mind you, you're both still in just your underwear. your clothes had dried a while ago, you could've put them back on earlier, but you didn't see the point in that. you hadn't acknowledged it, but something told you that you wouldn't be needing anytime soon. it was right.

at this point, craig was shaking in anticipation, attempting to subtly grind down on you. when you speak up about it, he interrupts with pleads. he had his face shoved into the space between your neck and shoulder, lips brushing against your pulse while he whispers, begs. "please, please, i'm sorry, please," he wanted you, so bad, so much that he felt guilty for it. he was moving too fast, he was forcing himself onto you, he doesn't deserve you. though, when you started grounding him, like before, all those thoughts disappeared. you hush him, tugging at his boxer briefs. "i know what you want, sweet boy. take it."

he's never reacted so quickly.

once again, he repositions, this time pulling you on top of him so he could shove the thin fabric down, nearly ripping them in the process. yours follow, thrown into the corner of the tent. instantly, he looks down, having to hold back a whine as he did. you weren't fully hard, not yet. he knows how big you are, you went to college together for fucks sake.

though, he figures out a way to help. he spreads his legs, reaching over to grab the base of your cock, not before you give him a nod of approval, and puts it between his heavy thighs. he lets you take control then, pushing them together and treating his thighs like a fleshlight. and despite how big they were, he could still see your head poking out and leaking onto his own. he had to suppress a whimper, the image of you inside him immediately flashing in his mind.

the underside of your dick rubs against his, making his hips twitch upward, which only added to the friction. craig had his head tilted back, too embarrassed to have even a mere glimpse of you. you took that as an opportunity.

using your spit, you slick up two fingers, then bring them down to circle his hole. he's hardly aware of it, until you push one fully inside. a loud gasp came from him, lifting his head and curling in on himself. "breathe, baby, breathe." you offer a hand, pressing it to his chest to soothe him, and he lands flat on his back once more. you grind harder as well, evening out the field of pleasure. "good, atta' boy." he nods, as if he's agreeing with you. pretty. eventually, you add the other finger, scissoring him open while rolling your hips.

by now, the inside of his thighs were smothered with your pre-cum, and the moment you pull them apart you could see clear strings still connecting them. you were completely hard, that was the first thing craig took note of.

his arms hook around your neck, pulling you down and pressing his mouth to yours. both your hands take place beside his torso, tip poking and prodding at his stretched hole. "in, in, please." he tries to force you inside, clenching around nothing and huffing when he fails.

"shh, i know, i know.." no matter how adorable his fussing was, you were still just as desperate as him. lining up, then driving in, and you swore craig shouted. before you could express any concern, or even think about doing so, he keens out, "good, it's good! really- really good, yes. thank you."

he was vocal, just as you thought, showing unnecessary amounts of gratitude for something so inappropriate. it was cute.

you wasted no time, smooth ins and outs, craig moaning at the slightest movement. poor man was already drooling. he didn't know what to do with himself, trying to piece together anything to say, but instead he finds something else to busy his mouth. leaning up, he sucks and licks at your neck. there were very faint marks, ones that will fade in the next couple hours. you'd need to thank him for that later.

your thrusts grew faster, harsher, making the skin of craigs ass ripple every time you made contact, his entire body jerking up with it. you didn't know where this aggressiveness was coming from, since you haven't done this in what seemed like forever. you assume that the craving to fulfill craigs every need played a part in it.

and he gladly takes this burst of energy, for as long as he can, though the warmth flooding his stomach was unbearable. "gonna, fuck, gonna come, can i? can i?" the second you nod, thick ropes of cum spurt from his slit, shooting far, all the way up to the nick in his eyebrow. you don't stop, holding out until nothing was left, then slowing.

both of you take a few moments to pant, giving one another a couple pecks here and there. you think you're down, that you can get off some other way, but judging by the way he tightens his legs around your waist, you now doubt it.

"keep going. please?"

#fics by jj #male reader #x male reader #craig cahn #craig cahn x male reader #dream daddy: a dad dating simulator #ddadds #dom male reader #top male reader #not gonna get any attention bc ddadds is dead but wtv #kinda glad too bc this sucks ASS #rushed at the end. just ignore it #i put way too much effort into this

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cassius-the-kitten · 5 months

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General Headcanons (DDADDS x Reader)

warnings: just a lot of x reader fluff, also swearing in some sections, also some alcohol mentions

Pairings: Brian Harding x Reader, Hugo Vega x Reader, Robert Small x Reader, Mat Sella x Reader

Brian Harding

Brian loves to cook, even if he’s better at grilling. he will cook you bacon, eggs, sausage, and pancakes every morning. it’s honestly a miracle that nothing ends up burnt, because he does it all at once like some sort of multitasking magician.

he may be a general contractor, but he’s got Very clumsy hands. nothing in his house is glass or ceramic because he WILL drop it. it’s all plastic cups from here on out.

thankfully he is very, very careful and extra mindful when he cooks. to the point where you shouldn’t have a conversation with him during his cooking because he will have a hard time keeping up with you due to the 5 million other things he is doing.

his dadbook profile isn’t wrong. he thinks a lot about how much smarter Daisy is than him.

but in Daisy’s defense, Brian is a himbo, through and through.

he cannot get any social cues ever and is absolutely clueless when someone obviously has a crush on him. he’s the type of guy to think you’re just being nice to him when you’re flirting.

he genuinely just likes having friendly competition, he has no clue why the dadsona seems to hate him and is getting so frustrated with losing.

and Brian’s autistic, which actually makes a lot of sense because of him missing every social cue ever.

over half of his wardrobe is button-up shirts and cargo shorts of various colors. he actually wearing socks and sandals… and even crocs. thankfully he sometimes has the decency to wear normal sneakers or even boots outside.

if you get him a button-up shirt, he will love you forever. he basically collects them.

believe it or not, but Brian was born in Florida. his parents just decided to move up to Massachusetts when he was little. his parents have since then moved back down to Florida for retirement. he and Daisy visit them sometimes for the winter holidays. one time they made the mistake of visiting during summer, and have never visited Florida in summertime since then due to the heat.

he is a very warm man. not just when he’s sleeping. he is a furnace. if you hug him for long enough, you will be sweaty by the time you come out of it.

his love language is physical affection. he just loves to pick up people and hug them and cuddle them whenever it’s socially acceptable to do so.

he’s like a dog sometimes. if you have a job and you get home after he does, he will be ECSTATIC and like Maxwell, will immediately come up to the door to greet you with kisses and hugs.

and like a grizzly bear, he’s pretty fond of fish. Brian just prefers whitefish like cod or haddock to salmon, but he’ll eat pretty much anything you put in front of him.

unless it’s spicy. Brian cannot handle any spice hotter than black pepper. on good days he can eat some semi-spicy chicken wings and enjoy himself, but only if he has a lot of water and coleslaw on hand to eat with it.

Brian actually likes piña coladas. it’s his favorite alcoholic drink besides beer, and it’s usually his second choice if he’s got a sweet tooth that day. but he doesn’t drink that often, actually.

honestly, he’s probably gone to Margaritaville with Joseph at one point. Joseph kinda meant it as a date but Brian had no clue and was so oblivious that Joseph thought that it was on-purpose in a passive-aggressive manner.

Hugo Vega

Hugo is autistic and his special interests are wrestling and literature. Ernest is also autistic. i will die on this hill

sometimes he writes a bit of poetry in his spare time, though he’s quite insecure about it so he has never shown it to anyone. a lot of them have allusions to other pieces of literature or wrestling.

the poetry writing is funny because i imagine that when he was first put into a poetry course in highschool he probably Hated it because he just couldn’t pick up much on the metaphors and the tone of the piece (just like me fr). but later in his life Hugo definitely gained an appreciation for poetry and started to write a bit of it after the divorce just to deal with his feelings.

he’s always willing to give constructive criticism. to anyone. sometimes he comes off as judgemental when he does that and he doesn’t realize it

Hugo speaks Spanish fluently, and knows a little bit of French. he actually grew up speaking Spanish and English in a bilingual household because his parents immigrated from Mexico.

he also celebrates Día de los Muertos and has since he was a child. it is his favorite holiday due to the symbolism, even if he ends up just celebrating it from home with Ernest. it’s actually one of the few things they still bond over — just decorating, making food, and Hugo going over some family history with Ernest.

this man works hard to keep his house as clean as possible. and he works hard to try and get Ernest to clean his room, which works maybe half the time. sometimes Hugo caves in and can’t help but to go in there and clean it himself if it gets bad and Ernest is out. he makes sure to try and put everything back where he found it, unless it was on the floor. then he puts it on Ernest’s bed.

Hugo isn’t much of a movie or TV show type of guy, unless they are an adaptation of a book. then he reads the book and then watches the movie\TV show. then he writes a review of it to get his thoughts and feelings out, and he Will send it to you if he trusts you enough. but only if you’ve watched it. Hugo believes heavily in the sanctity of not giving out unwanted spoilers.

he’s got a guilty pleasure of watching bad horror movies. this is canon. go replay Hugo’s second date and you will find this piece of dialogue which i hold near to my heart.

he can’t really handle good horror movies. horror movies that are good at scaring people, anyway.

he could probably crush a watermelon between his thighs. or his arms. if you ask him if he could crush a watermelon, he would be Very confused because he doesn’t know the trend(? was it a trend or did i imagine that???)

“…what? Why would I want to crush a watermelon between my thighs? I don’t like watermelon. Neither does Ernest. Honestly, I don’t know the last time he’s ever willingly eaten a vegetable or fruit.”

but then he’d be very surprised if you showed him videos of people doing it. he’d just stare with interest, impressed by the muscles.

if you manage to do it, he’ll actually start blushing so hard that he has to try and hide his face.

speaking of, he actually does try to hide his face a lot when he realizes he’s blushing. it’s very cute because he also can’t hold back a very embarrassed smile when he does so.

Mat Sella

Mat’s kind of a punk, alternative, and rock music guy, but he also really likes R&B, indie, and even some of those catchy pop songs.

his handwriting is very, very neat and pretty. he writes in cursive a lot, but only because he thinks it’s pretty and he’s just used to writing in it a lot.

he takes very, very good care of his hair. he also is the one mainly taking care of Carmensita’s hair, since she has a general disregard for taking the leaves and twigs out of it after she plays outside. so Mat is the one doing hair clean-up duty all the time.

he also cleans Carmensita’s glasses after she comes inside after playing. because she refuses to clean her glasses.

thankfully, Mat is good at cleaning and likes to clean. obviously he bakes almost every other day for both the Coffee Spoon and himself. music is playing on the record player while he’s baking or cleaning, unless he’s doing some late-night cleaning when Carmensita is asleep; that’s one of the few times he wears headphones in the house

he takes headphones with him everywhere he goes, though. he has a little bowl next to the front door with his keys and headphones in it so he doesn’t forget them

he loves coffee, to say the least. he brews a cup every morning, it’s almost like a ritual to him at this point. he just enjoys the process and relishes in it every day. it’s almost like it’s own type of therapy for him.

if it turns out that you don’t like coffee, however — he will act like a normal person and say “oh, okay” and just not make you drink coffee. he’s a little disappointed that he won’t be able to share his morning coffee time with both of you having a cup.

but if you at all try to join him on his coffee time with your own drink, just sitting in the morning and soaking up the sunlight and happy silence, he’ll be over the moon sharing that time.

we all know that he has the tendency to talk too much when he’s anxious, so moments like these where you’re just sitting together, mostly silent, is his favorite.

Mat just isn’t much of a talker when he’s super comfortable. so cuddling will be pretty quiet, too.

Mat grew up with cats, and absolutely adores them to the point where he is so tempted to turn the Coffee Spoon into a cat cafe. the only reason he hasn’t adopted any cats is because each time he is confronted with the idea he is incapable of making any decision and gets anxious.

but if you like cats, you’re totally getting a cat together. especially if you give him any kind of confidence when you’re around, like Rosa used to.

Mat isn’t an alcohol kind of guy. not since Carmensita was born, anyway. he also just doesn’t really like the taste of beer and other alcoholic drinks. he prefers the bitter coffee taste (couldn’t be me).

Mat does drink tea sometimes, but not often. maybe once a month he treats himself to a cup of tea.

Rosa actually really liked tea, so part of the reason Mat doesn’t drink it that often is because it reminds him of Rosa.

Robert Small

the man is Big. 6’3” and pretty chunky, so yeah. he’s pretty intimidating, and not just because of his RBF (resting bitch face).

speaking of RBF, he looks constantly mildly ticked off when in reality he is thinking about what he’s having for dinner. sure, he has plenty of other expressions, but they’re not quite as common as his “looks like he’s thinking of committing multiple crimes” look.

this man wakes up with some serious bedhead — hair sticking up in all sorts of directions, not because of the way he sleeps but because of Betsy. sometimes she gets up and sleeps right next to his head. and sometimes she gives Robert’s hair a bit of a nibble.

he really gives the whole “raccoon at the dumpster” type of look.

sometimes he volunteers at the animal shelter but only really late in the day when nobody except Mary is there. he usually brings a flask of whiskey with him to share with her, but Mary isn’t super keen on drinking around the animals.

he’s more like a cat than he is a dog. he likes to just sit in the general vicinity those he likes without saying anything while they talk for hours on end and he gives acknowledging feedback. usually just a blink and a nod.

but sometimes, very rarely, if he loves likes you enough, he’ll smile as he stares right at you, saying nothing.

if you end up dating him and move in with him, you could be doing literally anything and then turn around to find him staring at you with a smile that he tries to hide. sometimes he can’t believe that he’s in a healthy relationship after all the heartache he’s suffered.

but it’s also unnerving when you do something kinda embarrassing, like struggling to find a midnight snack, and then you just turn around and this big old man is just staring at you like my a cat waiting for you to go back to your bedroom.

remember how i said he’s more cat than dog? scratch that. if you have a job or god forbid, leave home without him, he will wait for you to come home. he will check the front door any time he hears even a little noise, very excited to see you, until he realizes you’re not home yet.

he counts down the hours and minutes until you get home from work. if it was socially acceptable for him to drive you to work and sit in your work’s parking lot the entire time and spend it waiting for you, he would do it.

if he can go with you somewhere, he will. even if it’s a 5 minute trip to the grocery store and it will take him longer to get dressed than to go with you, you better wait because he is coming with.

the second you come through that door? he is getting up off the couch that he moved to purely so he would be closer to the door and he, like Betsy, is coming directly towards you to ask you how your day was and if you brought anything back for him.

if you critique any of his whiskey then he will break out into a very passionate rant about the best kind of whiskey is the kind that makes you almost die a little bit on the inside when you take a shot.

idk why, but i feel like if he and Saul Goodman met, they’d be best friends. they’d pull off the best grifts together.

also Robert fucking loves Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. he just rewatches it over and over again as a comfort show even though it doesn’t provide any comfort whatsoever. his faves are Saul and Nacho

he will force you to watch Breaking Bad or Better Call Saul. or at the very least, he explain the plotline.

Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul is the Only reason that he has a Netflix subscription. there is no other reason he’d ever need one.

also Robert fucking hates Margaritaville. Joseph took him there once — Robert got sick from the Cheeseburger in Paradise, and now Robert vows to never step foot in one of those damn restaurants ever again.

Robert doesn’t like margaritas, so maybe it was doomed from the start.

#ddadds #dream daddy a dad dating simulator #dream daddy #hugo vega #robert small #mat sella #brain harding #headcanons #x reader #general headcanons #game grumps #ddadds headcanons #ddadds imagines #dream daddy headcanons #dream daddy imagines

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