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chaithetics · 1 month ago

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Oscar Isaac Boys with Period, Endo and PCOS Reader HCs

Pairing: Multiple Oscar Isaac characters (Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Abel Morales, Nathan Bateman, Cecil Dennis, Laurent LeClaire, Basil Stitt, Santiago Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide) x AFAB reader Word count: 2.2K Dividers by: @saradika-graphics Warnings: Periods, endometriosis, chronic pain, PCOS, non-specified shitty medical experiences, pretty much all fluff though douchebag Laurent mention sorry. No pronouns or body descriptions are used for reader. A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! It's just fluffy blainrot because the endo/post-lap hasn't been great. Reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated! 🫶 Tagging: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Steven Grant

Steven researches endometriosis, PCOS, adenomyosis and period pains. He learns about all of the different types of treatment plans. He learns about dietary changes that can help with inflammation and that other people diagnosed with these conditions have said have helped him. He goes down a rabbit hole of different PCOS recipes and dietary lifestyles, Steven ends up knowing of more PCOS blogs on every platform than you do by the end of that fixation.

He’s so sweet, there’s been many days where you’ve come home at the end of the day and been greeted with an endearing “Love, I found this new recipe, I thought we could try it for dinner? It has the PCOS and the vegan stamps of approval!”

Steven is also a great listener, it’s easy to tell him about how long it took to get a diagnosis, how much doctors don’t seem to care and are keen to dismiss you, to tell you birth control is your only pain management option or that you’re anxious and it’s all in your head. He’s horrified by this, he never judges or condescends and talking to him is always validating.

During your periods, he’ll happily cuddle up with you and attentively watch all your comfort shows and films, especially the guilty pleasure ones. He loves it. Steven finds good books and podcasts for you on the days of your period when you just want to stay in bed. He’ll read to you as a distraction, you find it cute, especially when it’s a mythology or historical book, his passion and excitement drips through more when he reads those books to you. He’s a sweetheart that’s always there for you.

Abel Morales

Abel will have every appointment of yours in his calendar, written in pen, he attends with you for support and as an extra voice to advocate on your behalf. Which he absolutely does. He has no issue speaking up if doctors are ever dismissive, especially when you’re met with a cold one. He’s spent his whole life trying to be taken seriously and to perfect his image. He knows how to use his eloquent words and charming people skills to get a doctor to do their job better and for you to have better healthcare. You both know that having him, a man in the room, makes it much easier for you and your pain to be taken seriously.

In the evenings during flare ups, Abel sits in bed and quietly holds you. He’ll press gentle and loving kisses to your forehead and the top of your head and rub your back in slow circles while you nap or are curled up on him in pain. He hates seeing you in pain but he knows being there is important for you and it’s also important for him as a partner. It never gets easier for him to see you in pain though but Abel will never complain about getting to spend more time cuddling you so tightly.

Nathan Bateman

When you first start dating you tell him you have endometriosis, it’s something that’ll come up eventually for any relationship that goes anywhere, even a casual one. You think it’s better to rip the band-aid off sooner than later. Nathan takes it in casually, like you’ve just told him what your favourite condiment is. It surprises you to say the least.

Nathan spends the next day scouring through numerous medical journals in order to become a human encyclopaedia on endometriosis and everything relating to the uterus and other reproductive conditions. If you’ve been medically cleared safe for a TENS machine, he doesn’t even spend a full afternoon building you one and it is the best one you’ve ever used, it becomes a regular essential in your pain management kit.

The highest ranking and most expensive medical practitioners in the field are flown out to the compound for every symptom and condition. The top pelvic physiotherapists come out, the gynaecologists. You want a dietician to try a diet to help with inflammation and bloating? They’re already on a helicopter. You want to try acupuncture? Again, they’re already on a helicopter. A massage therapist? Again, they’re already on a helicopter to the compound before you can even finish that request. There’s a room in the compound that he had modelled for you and these appointments to essentially be the fanciest hospital room you’ve ever been in. Nathan has no issue throwing money and technological innovations at any issues your uterus might give you, it’s a way of showing he cares, he’s arrogant and he can be infuriating but he loves you and will use his brain and bank account to prove it.

Jake Lockley

Whenever you have a negative experience with a doctor he happily offers to go down and take out that practitioner, sometimes he’ll make a scalpel joke even though he prefers a gun as a weapon. You’re not always sure if he’sjoking or not… Maybe it’s better to not know, plausible deniability and all.

He absolutely pampers you, every time you have a period, whenever there’s a cramp. Jake pampers you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, which is what you are to him. He makes you hot tea, soups, runs baths, puts on your favourite and comfort films. Jake offers to do things like brushing your hair for you and loves it. Jake pampers you! PAMPERS YOU!

Laurent LeClaire

Don’t. Just don’t. Sure, he’d be cute the first time you had your period and he’d happily offer period sex as a method of relief. But after the second period or flareup he’d attempt to gaslight you and say your symptoms or your pain being psychological. Then Jake Lockley would find a way to teach him a lesson.

Santiago Garcia

Santi’s long career has made him a master in observation and strategy, Santiago seemed to have a better understanding of your body than any period tracking app you’d tried to use, and not in a Tom Wamsgams baby-trap kind of way. More of a he was better at recognising the patterns, symptoms and remembering details than you were. Especially when the pain gave you brain fog. He picks up on the slightest details and after the first couple of months of dating you, he had a fine eye for pain. Whenever he spots the start of a flare up or painful period he goes straight into that mode, he checks in with you about pain meds, he gets heating pads ready for you and cuddles up with you on the couch or in bed while you curl yourself around one, runs baths and showers.

He has a plan in place for everything; when pain or a symptom is at a dreaded emergency department trip, when pain is flaring up. There’s a plan made for each appointment with symptoms that have been flaring up, objectives of what to get out of the appointment. Santiago learns what your boundaries and limits are, he’s big on pacing with you and not pushing yourself to do more than what you can handle or what will push you too far and lead to following pain days. He really encourages this for you, something he doesn’t do so well for himself and his knees.

Whenever Santi tags along with you to an appointment he’s great at asking follow up questions, especially if a doctor is being a dick. Sometimes it can feel overwhelming when you’re in appointments, especially when a doctor is talking, it’s easy to forget what’s been said as soon as you get home. Santiago always remembers every word that’s been said if you ever forget or want to double check. He’s an extremely practical partner and strong support.

Basil Stitt

Basil will have a panic attack, he’ll quickly google ‘period symptoms’, he doesn’t remember if people get cravings on their periods too or if that’s just pregnancy, or is it neither? Just something else he’s thinking of? No, he’s overthinking it.

During said panic attack, Basil will then do an uber eats order with several different types of chocolate and he’ll run to the kitchen to see what teas he has as Google mentioned peppermint tea several times. After checking the kitchen and making a mess in the cupboard and on the countertop during his search, he’ll order another box of it anyway just to be safe. Basil also is the guy who orders three different boxes of pads and tampons because he’s not sure what you prefer and he wants you to have options. Insert ‘What’s your pussy size, babe?’ meme, that’s Basil.

Anselm Vogelweide

All anxiety evaporates from his body when you just want to cuddle on the couch with him, watch some weird movies and order pizza and drink tea. He smiles and completely lights up when you tell him you like the flavour of the chocolate he ordered.

Going forward there’s a cupboard under the basin in his bathroom filled with various boxes of pads, tampons, and he eventually gets to the stage where he confidently has your period orders down and preferences of products. He’s quietly but goofily proud of the fact that he now knows your pussy size.

Anselm completely understands chronic pain from his own lived experience. You never have to apologise for a bad pain day, cancelling plans because your uterus is trying to kill you, when you need to spend all day in bed or in the bath to try and relieve pain and bloating. He completely gets that, he makes sure you have the softest and freshest pillows and blankets, bubbles, epsom salts, bath bombs etc. Whatever you could wish for to make you more comfortable. You no longer feel guilty for the things you used to before relating to having a chronic illness and terrible periods. You’re understood, seen but also pampered beyond what’s comprehensible.

Anselm immediately finds a team of the best professionals, new studies and treatments, both conventional and experimental, are quickly and quietly funded and greenlit. He offers you a world of treatment options you’d never considered or knew existed. Anselm always has his estate stocked with pain medication, all the drugs, drugs you’ve never heard of, drugs a normal prescription definitely wouldn’t get you. There’s medications and all the different options of treatment and pain management you could imagine available at the estate, hydrotherapy pools, massage chairs, massage therapists, sensory relaxation rooms, saunas, staff are there to cook all your favourite and comfort meals. Are you in pain and sad and needing cuddles with animals? Don’t worry, Anselm has a room being turned into a barn and a third cousin twice removed bringing a petting zoo over for any cuteness needs you might have. They should be there in five minutes.

Marc Spector

And if there somehow isn’t something there that you want, don’t worry, you just need to ask if he doesn’t read your mind first and then it’ll be moments away because Anselm can afford anything and everything and he always knows a guy.

Marc knew periods weren’t a walk in the park and were uncomfortable but it wasn’t until dating you and being around somebody with endometriosis and chronic physical pain did he realise how bad it could be.

The first time you had an endo flare up, it had really woken him up to that reality. He couldn’t help but grimace at seeing how you transformed from your usual self to being hurled over in pain. It freaked him out and his mind had panicked over the thought of this being your reality multiple times a year. It never gets easier for him to see you in pain or discomfort but he starts to find it easier to respond and be more present during flare ups.

He’s extremely observant, especially when it comes to you. He quickly learns how your facial expressions shift when you have a migraine, he closes all the curtains and turns the lights off. When you curl over on yourself in pain he’s there with a heat pad within minutes. When you screw your face up and say you’re nauseous he’s immediately there with a bucket on the side of the bed. During one of your worst flares when you’d been throwing up, he hadn’t even complained once. He’d helped you feel clean afterwards, there were no comments that made you feel bad and he cleaned the bucket out so it wasn’t something you’d have to worry about. Marc found it much easier to show up and do these acts than to be the verbally reassuring type, he shows up and these acts of service and care make you feel supported, loved and cared for.

Cecil Dennis

“Babe, do you wanna get high?”

“I read about cannabis and chronic pain, there’s honestly so many articles on the internet about it.”

Gets just as upset as you do when you're in pain, quite possibly cries more than you do whenever a flare up is happening. He'll watch films with you and he buys a CBD ointment and offers to rub it on your abdomen while you’re cuddled up in bed.

I’ll stop there, I’m sorry.

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 18 days ago

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Pet and Toy

Club!Blue Jones x Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 20: orgy/group

Summary: Blue's pet needs a new playmate.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). I'm gonna just gesture vaguely.

Warnings: kissing, threesome, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, gonna say dubious consent because reader works in Blue's club, collars, some dub/sub dynamics, Cecil is referred to as 'pet', not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2202

“Come in.”

Nerves run along your limbs, practically paralysing you. You’d tried to knock as softly as you could, and he still fucking heard.

You open the door and close it behind you as you step inside Blue’s office.

Fear makes you slow and it takes you a second to add two and two together to make four. But you get there after a few seconds.

Despite the calm and collected way he looks at you from where he is sat behind his desk, fully clothed, someone is obviously sicking his dick under it.

You swallow. And say nothing.

He gestures with his hand, “Come closer.”

You do as you’re told, walking to stand in front of his desk, your hands behind your back. You keep looking at his face, not daring to glance anywhere else.

Blue smiles. “Here.” He points next to him.

Painfully slowly, as if you could somehow wriggle out of this in the minimal amount of time it takes you to walk around.

His trousers aren’t even pushed down, only his fly unzipped. At first, you think the mess of brown curls between his legs belongs to another dancer, but you quickly realise that this person doesn’t work in the club. In that manner anyway.

Blue’s still smiling as he catches you looking. He takes your right wrist when you’re close enough. His grip isn’t hard, but the threat of it’s there.

“You’re very beautiful.” He says softly, and it isn’t what you were expecting to hear at all over the slurps of a very messy blow job. “Take off your clothes.” You swallow, but do as he asks without much pause. There was little point in objecting. He hums in satisfaction as you strip, releasing your wrist.

“Come closer.” He whispers when you’re finished, his voice low, and you step nearer. “Pet, here,” he tucks his fingers under the chin of the man between his legs, lifting his head up as he takes hold of your hand. His grip is soft, gentle even.

The man groans a little as Blue moves him back and looks up at you with soft brown shining eyes.

“This is Cecil,” Blue strokes his hair and Cecil smiles warmly, looking like the sun rising from a dark night sky. “My pet gets lonely, you see.” Blue’s talking to you as if he’s interviewing you for a job position and not standing completely bare in front of him. “I need to find him a playmate for when I’m busy, someone to keep an eye on him.”

Cecil presses his face into Blue’s hand, and Blue laughs softly.

“You make me sound like I can’t take care of myself,” Cecil grumbles, poking out his bottom lip ever so slightly.

Blue kisses the top of his head and, while he isn’t looking directly at you, you can’t help but sneak a small look at his erection. You gulp.

And Cecil giggles. “They looked.” He whispered in Blue’s ear.

Blue’s fingers twitch and tighten a little in yours, but he keeps his gaze on Cecil. Stroking his hair soothingly.

“Now, now,” he tuts charmingly, “you shouldn’t tell tales.”

Cecil giggles and presses his face into Blue’s chest as he turns back to you.

“You’ll have to forgive him, he is a little cheeky at times. Here,” he gently pulls at your hand, urging you to bend down, and when you do he puts his other hand to your cheek and guides your lips to his.

The kiss is surprisingly soft, tender even. And completely not what you were expecting. He runs his tongue over your lip and smiles as he pulls back. “Pet?”

Cecil jumps to his feet eagerly and Blue lets go of you, letting you stand back up as Cecil grins at you and stands close. Blue pushes his chair back further from the desk.

Cecil’s impressive cock bobs against his stomach as he moves, almost as completely naked as you are. The only piece of clothing, if you could call it that, was a thick leather collar around his neck.

“Hi.” He says, all sunshine, as if he was living in a completely different world to the one you were inhabiting. “Blue says you’re newish, only been here a few weeks?”

You nod.

“Aww, you quiet? That’s okay.” He grins friendly and lightly places his hands on your upper arms. He rubs your skin for a second before he leans forward and kisses you a little greedily.

He hums happily when you reciprocate and presses closer, opening his mouth to let you slip your tongue between his lips.

His eyes are softly glazed when he pulls back, a dopey smile plastered to his face. “You taste nice.” He mutters. “Sweet.” He kisses you once more, quick but still soft before burying his face into your neck and breathing deeply.

“Now, now,” Blue tugs him back a fraction and Cecil scowls, petulant and sulking. But he still follows Blue’s command and moves away from you, sinking back down to his knees in front of Blue - who motions to you.

“Come and sit.” He pats his thigh and you pause for a fraction of a second. “Aw, like a little deer in highlights. Here,” He takes your wrist again, guiding you into the position he wants on his lap, your back to his chest and facing outwards. His thick heavy cock digs into your spine, salvia and precum rubbing onto your skin.

Blue makes sure your legs are on the outside of his and spreads his thighs, in turn spreading yours. Lightly he kisses your neck, chuckling at the rapid beating of your heart. “We’re not going to hurt you.” He whispers, silky sweet. “You’re being so well behaved.” He lightly wraps his arms over the top of yours, holding you close against him.

He turns to Cecil, who’s still sitting patiently, “You need to taste more to see if they’re really sweet.” and Cecil grins.

He moves forward eagerly, placing his warm hands on your inner thighs and pushing them further apart.

You jump at the sudden touch, tensing, but Blue hushes you, squeezing his arms and keeping you still as he bites and sucks at your neck.

Cecil kisses your clit softly before he licks a thick stripe through your folds with his board tongue.

You gasp, shivering and Blue chuckles. The sound reverberates through you.

“Sensitive?” He mutters against your skin.

“So sweet,” Cecil groans, lapping eagerly and making you squirm and shake.

A little sigh slips past your lips and Blue grins.

“He’s very good with his mouth, isn’t he?”

You bite back a whine as Blue kneads your breast and sinks his teeth into your neck.

Instinctively your thighs try to close, to squeeze together, but Blue spreads his legs further apart, chuckling as you writhe.

Cecil runs his tongue along your pussy, agonisingly slow as he stares up at you from between your legs with large, soft eyes. His hands rub at your inner thighs, his moans vibrate along your skin.

You swear, your body trying to break free of Blue’s hold so you can chase your pleasure.

Blue groans, his cock rubbing hot and heavy against the swell of your ass. “Just a little more, sweet thing. Just a little more.”

“Please,” you sob, so close you can taste it.

“You want to come?” Blue asks, his voice thick.

You nod desperately.

“Oh, good little thing. So good, getting all worked up and wet.” Blue snakes one hand down to Cecil, grabbing the back of his head and pushing him closer to your core.

Cecil whines happily and you cry out.

“Playing so well with my pet,” Blue kisses your neck. And you scream.

You come hard against Cecil’s mouth, shaking in Blue’s arms as pleasure overwhelms you and robs you of thought. Spiking up your spine and sinking into your bones.

Blue groans, breathing hot and heavy in your ear as you fall apart, only pulling Cecil back lightly by the hair when your shudders subside.

“Very good, very good.” He mutters.

Cecil stands the moment Blue’s grip loosens, kissing up your stomach and your chest before he buries his face into your neck once more and breathes hard.

You swallow, about to speak, when Cecil grinds his heavy cock against your core, slipping in and moaning.

You gasp in surprise, your back arching as he slides in deeper, nearly half way when-

Blue snarls, grabbing hold of Cecil’s collar with one hand, while his other arm tightens around your arms. “Naughty, naughty pet.”

Cecil whines as Blue pushes him back and out of you.

“Who said you could?”

Cecil shakes his head, looking at the floor.

“Hmm?”

“No one.”

“Exactly.” Blue snaps.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted too…”

Blue tuts, and gestures to his desk. “Sit.”

Cecil perches on the edge, his hands in his lap.

“I’m so sorry about that, my dear.” Blue kisses your neck, and then groans sweetly as you shyly turn your head and press your lips to his. He breaks the kiss with a sigh, stroking your cheek. “Very good, very good… Now here,” he adjusts himself, urging you up a fraction before he takes himself in hand and pulls you back down onto him.

He moans as his head slips between your lips, notching at your entrance. There is a slight resistance and Blue pulls at your hips until his large cock breaches and he slides into your tight pussy.

Cecil squirms as he watches.

You shiver, your thighs shaking as Blue slowly lowers you down onto him.

“I can feel you shaking.” He teases.

“You’re… big.” You swallow.

He chuckles. “Is that bad?”

You bite your lip and shake your head.

“Are you sure?” He strokes your cheek, taking hold of your jaw so that you face him. “I’m not trying to punish you, not when you’ve been so accommodating.”

You suck in a sharp breath, you can’t remember a time you’ve been so full. But it’s not painful, the stretch makes your insides burn and sing the deeper he pushes.

“Oh,” he grins, “you like how I’m splitting you apart.” He growls and kisses you deeply, thrusting up the last few inches so that he is completely sheathed inside.

You whine, gasping and grabbing hold of any part of him you can reach.

Blue runs one hand along your side, slips down and toys with your clit until you're squirming and moaning.

“Pet,” he breathes hard, his eyes snapping to Cecil, who quickly stands. “Come and rut against your new playmate.”

Cecil practically bounds over to you, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He groans, kissing Blue deeply, before he kisses you and quickly presses between your legs. He rolls his hips, rubbing his heavy cock along your clit and making you sob.

Blue reaches around, grabbing hold of Cecil’s ass and controlling his pace. Cecil whines, breathing hard.

“Oh god, fuck, this is so fucking nice.” He shivers.

You moan as he massages against you, rolling over your bundle of nerves again and again, his balls smacking against Blue’s with the force of his grinding.

Blue growls, low in his throat, as your walls flutter and squeeze him. He licks up your neck. “That’s it, enjoy it, that’s it… being so good, letting us fuck you. Cecil’s going to make you come again, yes? And then I’m going to fill you up nice and full.” Blue grabs your hip possessively. “Like a good little toy, hmm?”

You moan, unable to answer the filth he’s whispering into your ear as Cecil kisses you messily, his tongue practically down your throat.

You clit throbs, pulsing with every roll of Cecil’s burning cock. You whine, your whole body singing between them.

“I’m gonna comeeeee,” Cecil gasps, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead against yours as his hips manically buck.

His orgasm crests suddenly, making him shriek and tense as his cum splashes up your stomach and chest.

Cecil swears, rutting for a few moments more until overstimulation makes him hiss. He quickly drops to his knees, sucking your clit into his mouth while he strokes Blue’s heavy balls with his free hand, smearing his cum over both of your skins.

“That’s it pet,” Blue grunts, “make toy come.” He nips at your neck as you arch your back, pleasure pulsing heavily in your stomach as it’s pulled from you without any say in the matter.

You gasp, your vision whiting out and Cecil moaning as your release coats Blue’s cock and drips down his balls.

Blue shivers, breathing heavily, “oh fuck, toy, yes, make me come, make me come, make me!” He snarls as his orgasm hits, pressing you tightly against his chest as he pumps load after load of hot, thick cum inside you.

You breathe heavily, Blue’s arms holding you gently as Cecil kisses up your torso, licking his spend from your skin. He nuzzles into your neck as you come back to yourself and then kisses Blue’s jaw as you recover.

“Can we keep this toy?” Cecil asks, batting his eyes at Blue. “I like them so much.”

Blue grins, “Yes, pet. I think we will.”

Thank you for reading!

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female-hysterics · 6 months ago

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Cecil waking up in the middle of the night to you dry humping his thigh in your sleep. That's it. that's the prompt.

He would be groggy, watching you in confusion as he tries to figure out what’s going on and what woke him up, and he sees you grinding against him and whimpering. Cecil would just sleepily roll over onto his back and take you with him before pulling down his boxers.

“Could’ve woken me up, sunshine,” he slurs, still half asleep, into the hair on top of your head as he pumps himself until he’s hard and you are blinking awake groggily against his chest in confusion as you’re dragged from sleep.

Then he’s pulling your panties to the side and pushing into you and you’re suddenly wide awake. You whimper loudly as he groans at how wet you are as he snaps his hips, sliding his thick girth into you with laughable ease, and you scramble weakly so you are bracing your hands on his chest so you can ride him properly. The new position lets him move deeper inside you and the fragments of your wet dream slip out of your mind as you roll your hips against Cecil. He rests his hand on your thighs and watches you sleepily while you squeeze your eyes shut and take your pleasure from him.

“That’s it, kitten. Just like that. Take what you need,” he murmurs and you nearly sob as you stop bouncing on his lap to grind against him in a slow dirty roll that had you seeing stars.

It wasn’t long before your orgasm washed over you, stealing your breath and locking your muscles, and Cecil was right behind you with a deep groan and a stuttering jerk of his hips. You collapse against him panting like you just ran a marathon, whining softly as he jerked his hips a few more times to ride out his own orgasm, and then he fell limp against the bed panting as well. Eventually you made to roll over next to him, but he made a small noise of protest, and kept you anchored to his chest and kept his cock nestled deep inside you.

“In case you need me again,” he said sweetly, a goofy grin on his lips, and you snorted out a laugh before placing a kiss on his chest over his heart.

“I always need you, Cecil,” you replied with a yawn, rolling your eyes at his answering coo, but then you settled quickly into a peaceful slumber with his soft snores lulling you to sleep.

#cecil dennis #revenge for jolly #cecil dennis x reader #Cecil Dennis headcanons #oscar isaac headcanons #oscar isaac x reader #Oscar Isaac #the void answers

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boredzillenial · 1 month ago

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Day three of @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction ’s Kinktober

Cecil isn’t gonna let a little whiskey dick stop him from making a point

railroad sentences as I was unable to edit much 😭

“Bullshit!” You bark out a laugh taking another shot.

“Youdon’t think I can?” Cecil teases with a lopsided grin.

“Finish a woman, in less than 5 minutes with no foreplay?” You scoff “you really think your dick is that magic huh?”

“Cock, mouth, hand. Just one of those and I’ve got ��em in a puddle in no time.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Bet me I can’t”

You look around for a test subject, but as you poke out from the booth in the far back of the bar you see the only people left are a bunch of drunken young guys watching a match of some sort on the tvs at the front.

“Don’tsee any girls for you to prove yourself.” You turn back to see he’s scooted closer to you.

“What, ya chicken?” He smiles and rubs across his groin.

You burst out into laughter “No way you’re getting that up after everything we drank!”

Cecil stumbles from the booth and hold out his hand to you, “Come on, gimme a shot at least.”

Liquid courage has you surging forward, clapping his hand with yours and stumbling with him to the single person bathroom.

A combination of giggles echo in the bathroom as you lock the door. “Alright, lets see this majestic cock then.”

He grins wider, pulling out his flaccid length and tries to stroke it to life. Heat rises in you as you watch. Though he is technically failing to rouse himself, seeing him like this was even more intoxicating. “Sonofabitch.” He grumbles.

“Looks like you loseeeeee.” You tease, hoping on the edge of the counter.

He stops his minstrations to look up at you, “Fuck that - alright.” His hands settle on his hips, limp cock still out as he tries to think through the liquid haze.

“Plan B - gimme your pants.” Cecil walks forward, undoing your jeans and clumsily trying to pull them down.

“What are you doing- “ you shimmy your hips as best you can, quickly sobering up as your bare ass touches the cold counter.

“Winning.” Cecil pushes your legs apart and kneels infront of you. His expression shifts to something more serious as he hands you his phone, “Set a timer.”

You fumble a bit but manage to get the timer set. “Alright -“ His breath fans across your exposed cunt sending a shiver through you “3, 2, 1, gooooo-“

Fingers fly forward into his curls as he dives into your heat. He wastes no time lapping and sucking, even nibbling at your inner thigh every now and then. “Fucksake-“ you shake, as his hand gropes up your leg to your already quaking pussy.

He looks up at you, lips glossy with your juices, “Fingers alright?” You nod down at him. In a slow stroke two of his fingers work into your heat and curl forward, that tried and true come hither motion gliding across your g-spot.

His fingers work deftly, coming out slowly only to twist and curl back in. Your head lolls back as he adds his tongue back to your aching clit. Soft whimpers and squelching fills the echoey space. “H-only shit-“ your hips rock in tandem with his movements.

Tension curls low in your belly as he works, your hips rock quicker to meet his fingers and all at once you’re on the edge. With a quick look at the open screen you realize there’s still 2:35 on the timer. He’s gonna win…

Fighting through the haze of pleasure and liquor you stare at the wall ahead. Focusing on the mystery stains and cracks to keep your release at bay. You manage to start to take deeper breathes, anchoring yourself to the distraction ahead before he realizes what’s happening.

“No ya don’t” he breathes against your pussy before looking up at the timer 1:20 remaining. “Fuck-“ He pumps faster, pulling a gasp as your gaze snaps to his.

He chuckles, the humming only adding to push to you the edge. “What’re you laughin’ at.” You huff.

He adjusts, burying his face against you and all at once sending lightning through your nerves as he sucks on your clit.

“Sonofabitch!” Your legs convulse around his head as your orgasm threatens to crash over you. You just had to hold out a little longer….

This little perverted game of tug of war continues as you cling to the edge of your sanity, boring a hole at the timer: 9, 8, 7…

The sound of him spitting brings you back to look down at him as he picks up the pace, this time slipping his pinky into your puckered hole along with pumping the other two into your quivering heat while his tongues relentless barrage on your clit. “Shit!” Is all you manage to grit out as you come crashing down, the sound or the timer dinging somewhere in the distance while you spasm around him.

His movements slow, easing you down from your high before he looks up at you with the biggest told you so grin.

“Congratulations, you lose-“ you chuckle breathlessly.

“Bullshit!” He swipes his dry hand across his chin and stands, cock now semi hard.

“You said cock, hand or mouth.” Your voice goes low “You used hand and mouth.” You tsk.

“You’re gonna try to take this from me on a technicality - really?” Cecil’s chuckles as he cuts on the water in the sink beside you to wash his hands.

You hop down from the counter and pull your pants back on “A win is a win.” You shrug.

Once he finishes he pulls your chin to turn you around to face him. A mischievous grin grows and his eyes are filled with determination. A firm prodding at your thigh tells you he’s finally managed to rouse himself, “Fine - double or nothing.”

—————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar @queerponcho @for-a-longlongtime @silvernight-m @ierofrnkk

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #cecil dennis #cecil Dennis fanfiction #cecil dennis x reader #cecil Dennis X you #revenge for jolly #cecil Dennis fic #cecil Dennis smut

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ominoose · 3 months ago

Note

Out of curiosity, which Oscar characters do you think would like to be with a short s/o? (And which ones do you think would like a tall s/o?)

𝐎𝐬𝐜 𝐈𝐬𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒/𝐎

*rubs hands together in 5'1* I'm writing this with the s/o being somewhere under 5'2. Ty for the ask!!!

Characters: Cecil Dennis, Jack Jackson, Jake Lockley Warnings: None

𝐂𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬

Will be condescending about it and not mean it. Goes "Awww" when you do things because you're so small and condensed and adorable, even if you're angry, he gets a form of cuteness aggression.

Adores spooning you, squeezing you into him with his arms around your torso like you're his teddy bear. Also loves you spooning him and does call you his "little backpack".

Loves to have you across his lap sideways when watching tv and rests his head against you in some way.

If you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him he'll swoon.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

Will be condescending about it and mean it. Chuckles and teases you when you can't reach something and have to ask him for help, but he won't admit he puts things on the high shelf on purpose every now and again.

His teasing is in fun, because he refuses to actually underestimate you. If you're staying at his trailer, you're trusted with the same tasks of tending to the homestead that he does if you're physically capable. Your height isn't a hold back to him, its just as another attribute just like your hair length, albeit one he finds particularly cute.

It does give him an ego boost to have height on you and he does dearly love to bend down and give you a cheeky kiss.

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

He takes on a traditional role in relationships, in a chivalrous, gentleman kind of way. He absolutely does not seek stereo-typically submissive partners, nor even feminine or female ones, but if you have a shorter height than him it will make him melt.

Won't grab things for you if its out of reach unless you ask, he refuses to make you feel lesser when you're there and capable yourself. When you're not there, you'll wake up to your favourite mug down and set for you, or a vase you'd mentioned wanting to get down from the top shelf is now on the counter, newly washed and filled with flowers.

Picks you up to take you over any puddles or even place you in the car. Picks you up to put you into bed. Picks you up to put you in a bath he ran for you. Picks you up to kiss you.

He will make a few little comments about it, with a smirk. He's sassy, he can't help it.

#cecil dennis x reader #jack jackson x reader #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac #omiwrites

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ierofrnkk · 16 days ago

Text

Summer’s Over

merman!Cecil Dennis x reader (~5.6k)

Summary: Someone, or, something washed ashore when you went to the beach. You bring him home, and you realize that things are much more complicated than you would have anticipated.

Content: gn!reader, reader is fine getting their hair wet, Cecil is literally a mermaid, angst, he gets homesick, medium burn, it’s my mythology I make the rules

a/n: blacked out and wrote 4k of this in one day. merman!cecil has completely captivated me

It was early when you headed out to the beach to go fishing, something you’d picked up over the course of the summer. The sun has barely begun to rise in the sky, the entire scene completely serene and comfortable.

Making your way down to the shore, you let your eyes drift over the horizon, making note of the few small fishing boats that have already set off for their daily routine, far off in the distance.

When you get closer to the water’s edge, though, you see someone lying still in the sand. Your heart jumps in your throat, immediately worrying that a surfer had gone out to catch early waves and had washed ashore unconscious.

As you approach, though, you realize it’s a much more complicated situation.

—

The man, who you now wonder if you can even call him that, is lying on his side in the sand, definitely unconscious. Your concern is waylaid by the fact that in place of where his legs would be, is a tail.

Deep green and blue, with a large fin at the end where his feet would be and a few smaller fins on either side of the tail.

This isn’t at all how you expected your morning to go.

There’s a mermaid—merman?—washed up on the shore where you fish.

Your mind flips through about a million potential scenarios, most of which being some variation of you being still asleep in bed and dreaming this; you know it’s not true, though, and you realize that you have to come up with a plan.

You can’t leave him here, out cold on the beach where the early crowd will soon come, finding him and probably killing him to mount on their wall.

For some insane, absurd reason, you decide the next course of action is to take him home until he wakes up and you can bring him back.

Fishing can wait for another day. Or maybe never again.

—

With great difficulty, you manage to drag him back up the beach and get him situated in the back of your car.

There’s a mer-fish-person in the back of my car, you think to yourself on the drive home, trying your hardest to rationalize it. That’s fine. This is definitely something normal that happens.

After the painfully long drive home, you panic for about three seconds as you try to think of exactly where you’re going to put him.

Eventually, you decide on your bathtub. Where else are you going to keep a semi-aquatic creature?

You run the tap, letting the water warm to a temperature that’s close enough to the sea, and you manage to get him into the tub with a bit more effort. He’s still unconscious, or at the very least, asleep, but he stirs when you get him in the water.

It’s only after you’re done getting him settled that you really take a good look at him.

The deep green-blue scales of his tail stop somewhere around his midsection, just above his hips, where that beautiful color transitions into his human half. The skin of his abdomen is tanned, just a little bit soft but still toned—from all the swimming, is what you assume.

He’s got a little bit of scruff on his jaw, something you didn’t expect from your limited knowledge of merfolk, mostly spanning from poorly-made 80’s movies, but he’s handsome. He has a prominent nose and pretty, dark eyelashes; his hair is shorter, but a dark brown and slightly curly on top.

You’re staring, but you can’t really be blamed for it.

—

He wakes up a half hour later, clearly confused as to why he’s in your house and not on the shore. You’re sitting on a chair beside the tub, having been watching him with untamed curiosity.

“What the fuck?”

Not what you expected, but alright. It takes you a beat longer than you’d like to come to your senses and give him something reminiscent of an answer.

“You were unconscious on the beach, I, uh—“You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to find the right words.

“—didn’t want you getting hurt, so..”

“So you brought me home,” he interjects, and you nod.

He shifts in the water, tail flicking slightly as he presumably tries to get used to the new situation.

After a few beats of heavy, uncomfortable silence, he speaks up again.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

You give him a polite smile, unable to take your eyes off of those stunning blue-green scales.

He splashes you, getting you out of your head.

“You’re staring at me.”

Your face flushes, and you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him at all.

“Sorry, I just—“

He cuts you off before you can continue, chuckling softly. You swear you’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.

“You’ve never seen someone like me. I get it. You can look.”

And you do.

“I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning, early. I don’t want anyone seeing you, I can’t—“ You take a breath, shaking your head briefly at the thought of what might happen to someone as remarkable as him if you let someone else get their hands on him.

“I can’t let anything happen to you. If someone else saw you, they’d probably, y’know.”

You make a vague gesture with one hand, allowing him to fill in the blanks; he nods in understanding.

He doesn’t seem as bothered about his current situation as you thought he might be, probably grateful that you’d saved him from certain doom.

“What’s your name?”

“Cecil,” he answers, simply.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but his name being Cecil was definitely not it.

“Cecil?” You echo, a bit incredulous.

He laughs again, nodding in the affirmative.

“What, you expected something more fantastical?”

Yes.

“I guess I just…didn’t expect you to have, like, a normal name.”

“Can I have your name?”

You tell him, and he repeats the word like he’s trying to imprint it in his memory.

You decide that you like the way your name sounds coming from his mouth.

—

The two of you spend a good part of the morning just talking.

He tells you about where he’s from, a city deep beneath the sea, about how it’s not much different from any other city, it’s just…underwater. You find that interesting, and express your interest in seeing it someday.

He agrees with the sentiment—he’d love to show you if you one day develop gills.

You listen with slight surprise as he admits that he’s never seen a human before; he’s never gotten close enough. He’s baffled by your legs and asks—with a sincerity you can’t even laugh at—how you manage to swim with them.

You answer him honestly, that you don’t swim much, so you don’t really use your legs for that. He plays up his surprise at the notion that you don’t swim that much.

You ask him with the same sincerity how he can breathe under the sea without any visible gills. He tells you that he just can.

A part of you doesn’t want him to leave.

—

Living a short drive from the coast has a few upsides, one of which being your ease of access to fresh seafood—something he expressed that he does, in fact, eat.

So, you went out and picked up some crabs, cooking a few for yourself, while he insisted that you keep his raw. You made a face, but obliged.

It makes sense, but it’s still odd in your mind.

The two of you are seated across from each other, a plate in your lap and resting on the edge of the tub where he resides in the water.

You pick at your cooked crabs, watching as he eats his raw with something you can only describe as morbid fascination.

This isn’t exactly a conventional situation, so you can decide that you can ignore him eating raw seafood.

—

You don’t want to leave him alone, in some odd mix of curiosity and politeness, so you accommodate him, just for the night.

You bring a few extra blankets into the bathroom, setting them down on the floor beside the bathtub in an attempt to make the hard tile floor somewhat comfortable. It’s not the best, but it’s manageable for one night.

He seems grateful for the company, especially spending the night in such a foreign place, so far from home.

You planned on just going to sleep, but as you lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling of the darkened room, you can’t fight that curiosity, eager to fill the dead air.

“What’s it like, being so far away from the rest of the world?”

You can hear him shift, the water making a noise as he moves, presumably thinking about your question for a moment.

“It’s different, I guess,” he starts, pausing for an extended period before eventually continuing.

“That’s my world down there, y’know? So I’m not really far away from anything, but I know what you mean,” he clears his throat, and you can hear his tail making noise in the water.

“It’s hard being away from it, but it’s interesting seeing what’s up here. I’ve never really—ever—gone up to the shore.”

You listen intently as he explains that to you, and you can’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty about taking him home with you.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve just—“

“No,” he interjects before you can even finish that thought.

“I would’ve died if I stayed out there. Much worse people would’ve found me and probably had me mounted on their wall by the afternoon.”

The air is a little heavier now, more tense with the seriousness of the conversation. He seems comfortable with this topic, so you leave it for the time being.

“You saved my life,” he tells you, voice as sincere as you’ve heard it in the short time you’ve known him.

“I can’t thank you enough for that, seriously. I’ll find some way to repay you.”

You want to tell him no, that he doesn’t need to do that, but it feels rude to interrupt when he’s being so genuine and open with you.

This is probably the most honest, intimate conversation you’ve ever had with somebody, and they’re not even of the same species.

That part of you that doesn’t want him to leave gets a little bigger.

You didn’t even realize you had been getting so into your own thoughts, and it’s only when you feel another splash of warm water on you.

“Cecil, what—“

“You’re being too quiet. I just made this whole speech and everything and you’re not saying anything.”

You quickly realize he’s teasing you. Teasing you.

You can’t stop yourself from laughing at his choice of words, and he laughs along with you. When he smiles, you take note of the slight sharpness of his teeth, and that doesn’t deter you nearly as much as you thought it would.

You’re starting to really like his company, and that’s not good.

—

The two of you end up falling asleep not long after that, and you find yourself getting very used to the sound of his tail flicking in the water every now and then as he sleeps; clearly, he’s not built to exist in your bathtub.

It’s a constant reminder of the fact that he can’t stay here. You have to bring him home eventually.

You wake up before him, and spend this time bringing the bedding back into your bedroom, before ending up in your kitchen to decide on something for breakfast.

You settle on toast and coffee, and bring a small dish up to him with some leftover tuna from the other night.

He’s awake by the time you make it back up the stairs, the upper half of his body draped dramatically over the edge of the tub. He’s got a pout on his face, and giving a look you can only describe as puppy-dog eyes.

“What?” You ask, a laugh breaking through the word.

“Woke up and you were gone,” he starts, tone overly pitiful and sad.

“Thought you’d completely abandoned me here.”

You roll your eyes and hand him his plate. He accepts it eagerly.

“No you didn’t, you big baby,” you reply, your tone nothing but playful.

He makes a face of mock-surprise, and the next thing you know, his tail is flicking in the water and you’ve been splashed. Again.

“Maybe I should’ve left you on that beach,” you joke, and he snorts, starting to pick at the piece of fish you’d brought to him.

“I would’ve been better off, and unfortunately I can’t drown you.”

That gets a good laugh out of him, and you’re grateful that he’s taking this lightly—the last thing you’d want to do is offend him or cross a line.

You’re quickly realizing that he probably doesn’t even have a line to be crossed.

“Maybe in another life, I’ll come back as a human so that you can drown me,” he muses, joking as he finishes up his plate.

You can’t deny the feeling of warmth that blooms in your chest when he says that.

You don’t want him to leave.

He doesn’t seem to want to leave, either, because he agrees to stay an extra day. For your convenience, he tells you. You don’t know how to feel about that.

—

Since Cecil’s now going to be staying longer than anticipated—not that you anticipated him staying at all—you decide to stay by him to try and keep him somewhat entertained, since he can’t really explore your home, and you’re not strong enough to carry him around for long periods of time.

He very quickly finds a way for the two of you to pass the time, asking about different things that he can see from his vantage point, which you happily explain to him.

He asks about your hair dryer, and you demonstrate what it does by turning it on a low setting and letting him feel the warm air—it completely fascinates him, but you put it away before he inevitably dries himself out with it.

You watch with quiet amusement as he grabs the fork from your lunch plate, insisting that he knows what this is. It takes everything in you not to laugh when he brushes the tines of said fork through his curls, and after letting him carry on for a few moments, you gently take the utensil away from him.

He blushes a pretty shade of pink when you tell him the actual purpose of it, and you find yourself staring at him—not his tail, for once—for a few beats too long.

You have a few questions of your own for him, most of which involve his lifestyle under the sea, which he graciously answers for you.

“It’s just like how I assume life is up here,” he tells you, clearly very interested in talking about his home.

“It’s a city—we have shops and jobs, a governing body, the whole like,” he laughs softly, reverently.

“It’s a lot nicer than you’re probably thinking it is. I’d love to take you there, someday. Show you my home properly.”

That warmth blooms and blossoms in your chest.

“I’d love to visit,” you manage, barely able to keep your voice steady, taken aback by the sincerity of his offer, a contrast to his playful, sarcastic tone.

He grins, so wide that you’d swear he’s just heard the best news of his life.

—

You play him some of your favorite music, and you’re surprised that he actually enjoys some of it.

He likes the vibrations that your speaker makes when it’s playing, so you let him hold it as you choose the next song to play.

Good thing it’s waterproof.

He laments that he isn’t able to show you his favorite songs. Not in the way they’re meant to be heard, at least.

“Sound works differently when you’re that deep underwater,” he explains, trying to find the best words to describe the phenomenon.

“So music is a lot different; it’s beautiful. I’m sure you’ve heard whale songs before?”

You nod. Of course you have.

“It’s like that,” he smiles, and you can detect a bit of sadness in it. Longing.

“It’s so beautiful. The music back home is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

You reach over and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He returns the gesture, and you notice that his eyes have gone glassy.

He clears his throat after a beat, using the back of his other hand to quickly wipe away any tears that have surfaced.

“Sorry, I’m, uh—not trying to get all emotional. Just a little homesick, I guess.”

Your heart breaks a little when he says that, and you decide with absolute certainty that he’s going back home first thing tomorrow morning.

“Don’t apologize,” you insist gently, tone soft.

“If I was far away from home and in a completely new place, I’d be pretty homesick, too.”

He squeezes your hand gently, and you continue.

“This has been really fun, and an unbelievable experience, but I’m bringing you home tomorrow.”

He nods appreciatively, and you watch him as he smiles.

It’s bittersweet.

He doesn’t want to leave either.

—

A sort of strange air lingers between the two of you after that.

You both know that this has to end. It’s not right for you to keep him away from his home to live an unfulfilling life in your bathtub, but you’ve grown fond of him in the short time you’ve known him.

He’s silly, but he’s so well-spoken. He’s seen things that you’ve only ever dreamed of or seen in a nature documentary. He’s lived a life so different from your own, and that’s exactly the problem.

You’ve moved your chair closer to the bathtub, sitting beside it and facing him, instead of sitting on the opposite side of the room as him.

You play more music for him, and let him bring your speaker underneath the water with him so he can hear it the way he’s used to. He smiles so wide that you can’t take your eyes away from him.

You keep your eyes on him as much as you can—you know that this is probably the last time you’ll see him, so you’re absorbing as much as you can.

There’s one more thing you really want to do, and when he resurfaces, you build up what little nerve you have left to just ask.

“Can I touch your tail?” You ask him, and immediately cringe, knowing you sound like a little kid at a petting zoo.

He doesn’t seem to feel that same awkwardness, thankfully, and that smile returns—softer, now.

“Sure.”

Before you can think to respond or reach out for yourself, he takes your wrist in his grip, pulling you closer until the palm of your hand rests at about where his thigh would be.

You feel your face go hot, but thankfully he isn’t looking at you—he’s focused on the slow, gentle movement of your hand on his tail. It doesn’t take you long to notice there’s the slightest flush to his cheeks as well.

The texture of it is different than you expected—his scales are smooth, and he feels more like a snake than he does a traditional fish. He keeps your wrist in his grip, bringing your hand down to where his knees would be.

To accommodate for the slight change in angle, you move in your seat, and this inadvertently brings your face a lot closer to his.

He raises his head to look at you, and clearly wasn’t prepared for the decreased proximity between the two of you, his breath hitching in his chest.

“Was that—“ he starts, clearing his throat before he continues. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for the briefest of seconds.

“Was that okay?”

You can’t do this. You shouldn’t, at the very least. You can feel the warmth of his scales under your palm, the slight tremble of his fingers around your wrist.

You don’t kiss him, even though you know how badly you want to, you don’t. To answer his question, you nod, your eyes never leaving his.

“That was perfect,” you murmur, voice a bit too soft.

You know that you’re going to regret not kissing him, but you can’t set yourself up for that kind of false hope. Nothing could ever come from this sort of lingering attraction between you and the merman you found washed up on the beach.

“Perfect,” he echoes, and it takes a Herculean amount of strength to keep yourself from kissing him right there.

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to gather what little amount of strength you have left to pull your hand away from his.

You figure that it doesn’t hurt to continue being honest with him, especially now, after something like that.

“I’m going to miss you.”

You swear his eyes have never been wider.

After what feels like an eternity of silence, he manages to get a few words out.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

The knowledge that he’s leaving early tomorrow morning makes your heart ache that much more.

He shifts in the water, clearly going through the same thought process that you are in that moment. The feeling reminds you of when your favorite family member has to go back home after busing for the holidays. It’s inevitable, but you hate that it has to happen.

“Can I have something to remember you?” He eventually asks, the question catching you a little off guard.

Immediately, your mind flashes through every single thing you’ve ever owned in your life.

You nod in agreement, already having decided on what you’re going to give him.

Standing, you rush into your bedroom to grab his keepsake—a thin, silver bracelet—when it catches the sunlight, it gleams, reflecting the light so beautifully.

You bring it back to him, and when you sit back in your chair beside him, you hand him the bracelet sheepishly.

It’s simple, and maybe a little tacky to be giving him a bracelet, but the way his eyes light up when he sees it is a pretty fair indicator that you’ve made a good choice.

Immediately, he slips the cuff on, admiring the way that the silver catches the light coming through the window in your bathroom.

After a few beats of watching him dumbly, you manage to ask him the same question.

“Can I have something to remember you?”

You don’t expect him to give you something—he didn’t exactly come with anything, but he nods, and immediately you start to wonder what he could possibly give you.

The racing thoughts are quickly silenced when he shifts in the water, bending his knees and reaching down near the base of his tail, where his main tailfin begins. You watch as he takes hold of and plucks a scale from the end of his tail.

He hands you the scale, and you hold it like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. It fits perfectly in your palm, no bigger than a half-dollar coin.

It shimmers in the light—a beautiful mix of blues and greens, the hues shifting as you move it slightly.

“Are you sure?” Is the first thing you manage to ask him, completely floored by the fact that he’s literally given you a piece of himself.

His voice is soft when he replies, his eyes holding a depth to them that you’ve yet to see from him.

“They grow back,” he insists.

“I didn’t want you to forget me.”

Your heart twists and knots in your chest.

You’re holding him in your hands, literally. You can’t think of anything else besides the very definite fact that you’re going to hold onto this scale for the rest of your life.

“I could never forget you.”

You swear that he stops breathing for a moment when you say that.

The next thing you know, he’s sinking down beneath the surface of the water, evidently very flustered by this exchange and needing a moment to compose himself.

When he finally resurfaces, you watch the way his curls stick to his skin, damp and darkened by the water.

“I’ll visit you. I’ll come back.”

Now it’s your turn to stop breathing.

You trace your thumb over the surface of the scale, trying to wrap your head around the implications of this all, and the fact that there’s clearly now something between the two of you that’s hard for you to believe developed at all.

You nod.

“Okay.”

—

The tension between you and Cecil has simultaneously been broken and built up even more. You want nothing more than to kiss him senseless, to feel the way his curls feel in your hands, but you resist.

You’re not going to torture yourself, dangling the carrot on the stick in front of yourself like that, knowing that you’ll never be able to truly have him.

You feel okay, though. His scale fits perfectly in a locket that you’d yet to find a use for, so now it lives in the pendant around your neck—a memory that you’re never going to forget for as long as you live.

He’s wearing the bracelet you gave him. It’s silver, so it’ll never rust when he’s back home.

You share a plate with him when you have dinner that night. One side of the fish has pieces of raw salmon that you’d gotten just for him, and the other has a few pieces of the same fish, cooked.

His hand brushes yours “accidentally” a few times as you eat, and every time, your heart jumps in your throat.

—

The sun’s set now, and you’ve turned off the harsh, artificial light in the bathroom, leaving you two in darkness besides the night light plugged in on the opposite side of the room.

You’ve abandoned your chair by this point, having settled yourself onto the ledge of your bathtub. He’s resting his head on his arms, settled onto that same edge, right beside your legs.

He’s looking at you like you’re the one that hung the stars in the sky.

These are two paths that never should’ve crossed. Two lives that never should have met.

You can barely make out his features in the dim light, but you see him so clearly. You want to kiss him so badly it hurts.

His hand moves to rest on your knee, fingers tracing gentle, aimless shapes and circles against your skin, just below the hem of your shorts.

The feeling between you—some sick twist of desire and longing that knots in the pit of your stomach—is near unbearable.

Your hand comes up to rest in his hair, your fingers brushing lightly through his curls. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment, completely enamored by you and everything that you do.

You swear you’ve never felt such intimacy before in your life.

He’s leaving first thing tomorrow morning; you’re going to drive him back to the beach and bring him right to the water.

He’ll swim away, and that’ll be that.

The pendant weighs heavily around your neck.

You watch him as he shifts, bringing himself closer to you. One of his arms rests lamely in his lap, while his other moves to allow him to continue touching you. His hand has shifted to your calf, still tracing those gentle shapes against your skin.

Now, he’s resting his head on your knee as your hand continues to brush lightly through his hair.

You want to say something to him; you feel like you should.

A goodbye, or a sappy speech, or a hasty, uncoordinated expression of the feelings for him that have developed over these two days.

You decide against any of it. It’d ruin the moment, anyway.

The room remains quiet, save for your breathing, and the soft sound of the motion of the water as he shifts, the confined space of your bathtub clearly becoming too much for him to handle.

He’ll be out of here tomorrow, you remind yourself.

His hair is soft beneath your fingertips, and you wish you could remember the way it feels forever. You feel the way his hand traces up and down your calf, the motion repetitive and soothing all at the same time.

It’s like he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin in his touch.

He doesn’t touch you any more than that, and you’re equal parts grateful and disappointed.

Eventually, you move to sit on the floor, leaning up against the tub. You miss the feeling of his hand on you, of his head in your lap, but this is just as nice.

The two of you assume a similar position, arms settled on the edge of the tub, with your heads resting on your forearms.

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep, so close to him like this.

—

You wake up before him, the slightest bit of dread beginning to sink into the pit of your stomach when you register that today’s the day. He’s going home.

The sun hasn’t risen yet, so you take this time to get your things ready to bring him back to the shore—bottles of water, the bag you use to hold your beach towels—and get it all packed into your car.

By the time you return, he’s awake, and you give him a soft, reluctant smile. His expression mirrors yours.

“Time for me to take you home.”

The smile on his face falters for a moment, but he nods. You both knew this day was coming. It was inevitable.

It’s a bit of a struggle, but you manage to get him out of the water, and carry him back down the stairs through your home.

He’s looking everywhere, trying to absorb as much information about your life as he can gather from your decor.

Though your muscles protest, you walk a little slower, just to give him more time.

Eventually, you get him settled in your car. It’s not a very long drive to the beach, and there’s no traffic so early in the morning, so he agrees to sit in the front seat with you.

There’s a towel laid out on the seat, and you’ve given him a few bottles of water to pour over himself if he gets too dry; you don’t care about your car at all right now.

He takes in the sights of your city as you drive, all the little beachfront shops and tacky tourist attractions, the surplus of hotels for summer visitors, and everything else wedged in between.

The drive to the beach is quiet, but you manage to get there quicker than you would’ve liked to.

The sun has barely begun to rise in the sky, the sunrise reminiscent of the one you’d seen the morning when you’d first found him on the shore.

Once you park and gather your things, you begin carrying him down from the dunes, all the way to the shore.

Your muscles ache, carrying him wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but you didn’t have much in the way of options.

You know that you can’t just leave him on the shore again and hope he’ll work himself back into the sea, so when you reach the line where the water meets the sand, you kick off your shoes and keep walking.

The water is surprisingly warm, especially since it’s so early in the morning, and you continue to walk.

You can feel the nervous tension, the conflict that lives within him—he’s eager to get back in the sea, you know that, but as you carry him, he clings to you a little tighter.

Your clothes are getting wet. You don’t even care anymore.

When you get to around waist-deep in the sea, you lower him into the water, and he adjusts to being back in a proper body of water—his home.

This is goodbye. You know it is. It has to be.

He gives you that soft, crooked smile, the one that says more than any words ever could, and he disappears beneath the waves.

It’s not a few seconds later that you feel his hand in yours, pulling you along with him. You gasp, taking a quick breath as you’re brought under the water.

You don’t have time to process what he’s done, because before you can think, he’s put his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

His lips are pressed to yours, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. Your hands manage to find their way into his hair, holding him close as you kiss him.

Your lungs burn in protest, desperate for air as he holds you beneath the water to kiss you. He must be able to sense it, because through some process beyond your realm of understanding, he passes breath to you, filling your lungs with air as he continues to kiss you the way you’ve wanted him to from the moment he met you.

It feels like an eternity later when he finally pulls away, and you manage to open your eyes to look at him.

He grins at you, wide and crooked, before he turns and swims away.

You watch him for as long as you can, until you finally have to resurface for air.

You wear that pendant every single day until he returns to visit you.

—

tags: @silvernight-m , @midgardian-witch , @femmeanonymelives , @faretheeoscar , @reallyrallyauthor , @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

#cecil dennis #cecil dennis x reader #cecil dennis x you #merman!cecil x reader #merman #mermaids #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac x you #revenge for jolly #oscar isaac fanfiction #merman x reader #fanfiction #monsterfucktober

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casinocarpediem · 7 months ago

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This meme is funny but like

Words cannot describe how much I want to **** cecil in the *** and then **** his ***** until he **** and **** *** ******* ** ***** ******

#🤯 random #cecil dennis #cecil revenge for jolly #cecil #baby boy #his puppy eyes #cecil dennis x reader #revenge for jolly #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #id do everything and anything for Cecil

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writefightandflightclub · 1 year ago

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“Yes man” (Cecil Dennis {fuck me, how did I get here} x fem!reader)

Summary: Blurby McBlurbFace. Mainly chat, slight fluff, smut, pining / friends to lovers vibes.

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Warnings: alcohol consumption; drug use mentions (weed); smoking; dumbification of Cecil, I guess. Mommy kink if you squint. Public erections / handjob sorta, premature ejaculation / cum in pants. Mentions of dead fish but no fish were harmed. Actually, a surprising number of animal metaphors. Oops. Rimming I’m sorry that one snuck in very last minute Omg.

A/n: having a shitty mental health day (boo) and this Cecil blurb (whilst not my best) is my self-care ☺️ I don’t remember his character well aside from wet bloody cat boy, but I’m damn sure not rewatching that again so this will have to do 😅. Feedback appreciated! 🧡 (Is the rimming too much? 🙈) Not proofed and I’m almost positive autocorrect will have screwed me over.

Also totally inspired by @my-secret-shame’s meme and @foxilayde’s amazing blurb. I will not pretend to have had an original idea! 🧡

“Come onnnn, Cecil,” you whine, poking him in his soft belly with your index finger. He giggles lightly, almost like a hiccough. “It’s always me coming up with the ideas. What do you wanna do next?”

He turns his head as though in slow motion. Moves as if he’s underwater, this one - at least when he’s got food and several beers in him (which is most of the time). He looks up. Blinks at you; dumbly. “What do you mean?”

Eh. You’d really thought your statement had been quite clear.

You resist the urge to pinch his cheek and tell him It’s a good job you’re pretty.

“I mean, that I suggest things, and you go along with them.”

He blinks again. It’s like everything is just a little slower in Cecil’s world. Takes a little longer to filter through. It’s refreshing, in a way. He’s in no rush, and it encourages you to slow down too. To smell the roses.

Cecil is beyond easy-going, come to think of it. Goes with the flow like a dead fish. You’re pretty sure, in fact, that he’d go along with just about anything. With just about anybody’s hare-brained schemes, without once thinking through a single one of the potential consequences.

Scratch that - he probably already has done just that; which would explain a lot of the trouble he’s routinely gotten himself into since you’ve known him.

Though, you suppose, in a way that’s refreshing too. You always did worry too much.

Besides, he always seems to muddle through, somehow. Though quite how has you stumped. It’s hardly due to his charm or his smarts, now, is it? Even so, despite whatever attributes he is lacking in, you can’t deny that he must be doing something right. Trouble simply seems to slide right off the man’s back. Like water off a… well. A dead fish, you guess. What a versatile metaphor.

He blinks at you again. Maybe those big pretty cow eyes help, just a teency bit, to get him out of trouble, you would wager.

Look at him though. You’ve never seen anyone more relaxed. Practically horizontal as he’s hunkered down in the booth, seated next to you in the corner of your usual dive bar. Maybe there’s something to be said for all the pot and seedy hotel room fucks he indulges in. You bet his shoulders are inordinately loose. Maybe he really does have it all figured out, despite appearances.

As you ponder this, Cecil -eventually- makes a non-committal noise, before his bloodshot, glassy eyes flick back to the TV hung up on the wall. He is barely even watching it. Just letting it happen to him, like he does with most everything else.

That’s probably why you’ve never fucked him, you realise, like a bolt out of the blue. He’s pretty, sure. But you wouldn’t.

You don’t mind control - that’s not it. You don’t mind taking charge. But with Cecil? You think he’d take it lying down - a little too literally. If you’d ever suggested you and he fool around, you’d never know for sure. Never know if it really was his idea - a thought or desire he’d ever had before - or if he was simply far too agreeable and opportunistic to decline. So agreeable, that he’d let you ease your vagina up and down on his cock until you came on him. You were intrigued by the thought, sure. But you refused to go there simply because Cecil couldn’t come up with anything better to do.

You look at him, and immediately bat that thought - the vagina all over cock one - away though, as you regard his complete lack of gumption. It’s tangible. Look at him now, for example. He’d seemed to like the way the air from his non-committal noise had filtered over the neck of his bottle, tucked under his folded chin. Indeed, he is now pursing his full, curvy lips, and blowing over the mouth of it until a soft series of “hoots” fill your booth.

You fold your arms and sigh.

You reckon that will amuse him for the next ten minutes at least, so clearly, once again, Cecil’s not the one coming up with a plan for the remainder of this evening.

It’s not that you ever really have to do anything with Cecil to have a good time. It’s just that, tonight, you’re antsy, and it’s making your thoughts wander in directions. Down below his zipper directions, so help you.

“Beer’s empty,” Cecil states flatly, finally noticing after sucking on the bottle for a mo, poking his wet pink tongue around the rim like the little wet cat boy he is. Cute though. Does things to you.

Anyway. You register his statement, but you observe that no action follows. He doesn’t look at all like he plans to do a damn thing about it.

You decide to test your theory, then. Your theory that Cecil’s simply a dead fish swept along in your river. That maybe he doesn’t even want to be here at all. Never did. That you are just another something that happened to happen to him.

“Do you wanna go get Mexican?” you offer, with ulterior motives Cecil is not shrewd enough to pick up on.

His eyes tick back from the captivating, shifting lights of the TV. “Sure,” he smiles softly at you, perfectly content, it seems - and yet, you are less than satisfied.

“See!” You smack the palms of your hands together in triumph, and he jumps. Pushes himself up a little straighter in the seat, his palms disappearing into the worn, lumpy upholstery. “See what I mean?”

He blinks at you blankly. Again.

Clearly not, then?

“You just go along with anything I say. We ate two hours ago, Cecil,” you complain, recalling the all you can eat Chinese buffet you and he had gorged on with two coupons you’d cut out of the newspaper. You drop your hands to your lap, dejectedly. You’re getting agitated with him, which surprises you, in truth. And still… there Cecil is. Unflappable. Calm. Constant. There are pros to his cons, for sure. “I just… I never know if you actually like what we’re doing, you know?”

“But. You always suggest things I like. So why would I say no?” He shrugs a little. “Tacos are good. I like tacos. I like…” he hoots into his bottle again as he says the word. “You-ooooooh.”

You hate to admit it, but his answer has you stumped for a moment. Cecil’s statements may generally be simple. Uncomplicated. But they can be oddly profound at times.

Christ. Maybe… Does the man actually have a valid point? Or, perhaps you’re looking too hard for meaning in his words - it’s possible. You feel like you’ve spent a lot of time lately looking hard at Cecil, perhaps to justify your bizarre and inexplicable feelings.

Possibly you’re even projecting. His seeming lack of independent willpower would certainly make that easy enough to do.

Maybe the man has a point though. Maybe he’s not as “easy-going” as you think he is. Maybe you’re just coincidentally so attuned to his desires that he’s never had cause to deny you. Maybe you are aligned with his desires. One and the same. “What if I asked you to do something you didn’t like, then?”

You slurp up the dregs of melted ice through your straw and Cecil blinks again as though it’s taking all of his processing power. Damn, though. You’re surprised that the fanning of those endlessly long cow lashes didn’t cause the curtains behind you to billow in the breeze they threw up. “Like what?”

You shake your head. Touch his arm to placate him. “Never mind, Cecil.” Christ. If he can’t even think of a single Thing He Wouldn’t Like, maybe you can safely stick to your dead fish hypothesis. It’s all the same to him. Just happening to him. He’s not choosing you.

That particular thought, when it arrives, niggles you more than expected, but you quash the growing agitation which rides in alongside it.

Meanwhile, Cecil looks around, quite visibly thinking. “I wouldn’t get up outta this seat,” he states adamantly, his voice croaked from all the blunts he’s worked through today. “I wouldn’t like that.”

You believe him. He’s practically sliding down to become a puddle on the floor. Dissolving into the bar furniture; becoming one with the upholstery.

Your lips curl up into a tender smile, remembering one particularly ridiculous night at Cecil’s. The night involving a 3am bong sesh, culminating in him genuinely believing he had merged with the couch, becoming a half-human half-upholstery monstrosity. He had waved the two huge, puffy couch cushions around as though they were his arms, and he’d grabbed you up in the middle of them like a grilled cheese, sandwiching you and taking you down to the floor where the two of you had rolled and laughed until you’d cried.

When the laughter had subsided to only the odd titter here and there, and you had lain on his disgusting rug almost nose to nose? That’s the first time you’d wanted to kiss him, and it turned out not to have been the last.

Fuck. You are rather fond of this idiot, aren’t you? How the fuck did that happen?

Engaged fully now though - slightly more lucid than your fond memory- Cecil sits up. Still slouched but this time over the table, his forearms bracing him against the surface. As he moves, you get a waft of his layered, stale cigarette smell. It’s… confusing, in its appeal. Should be off-putting, but you find, in fact, that it’s a comfort.

“No? You don’t wanna?”

With a rush of affection you link your arm through Cecil’s, and he slumps his head on to your shoulder as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You weren’t ready for the way his knotted curls brush your cheek, and it inspires a similarly dense and tangled knot to form in your middle.

“No.” It’s the most sure you’ve ever heard him sound. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“A minute ago we were going for Mexican food, Cecil.” There’s a beat. “That kinda involves movement, you realise?

He swivels his head towards you then, gaze all doe-eyed and pathetic, and the proximity of him parroting on your shoulder knocks you for six. “You mad at me or something, Hottie from Walmart?”

You snort. He doesn’t always pull out that nickname for you - how you’d been known to him before you had been known to him - but it always makes you sentimental when he does.

He shifts from you then, tilting his body towards you. Scrutinising you with apprehension in his sweet face.

Fuck him actually, and fuck his pouty beautiful kissable lips most of all.

You sigh, and you deliberately soften your face. He’s easy-going, sure, but he’s sensitive. Trouble slides off of his back, but other things… other things don’t slip off quite so well, and he often gets like this. Like he’s done something wrong, when he hasn’t.

You actively resist the urge to coddle him. To tenderly rake his somewhat grimy but beautiful curls off of his forehead.

You hardly want to examine the fact he brings out your… motherly instincts; but it doesn’t escape your attention that he always seems like he’s craving just a little nurturing. You want to take your thumb and smooth out the creases in his troubled brow.

“No, Cecil. I’m not mad at you. I’d tell you if I was and we’d talk about it.”

He nods.

You’re not mad at him. Really. And so, you take pause to wonder why this happy-go-lucky trait of his is particularly irking you today. “It’s mostly a good thing, I promise.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.”

He looks pleased for a minute and then: “Wait. What’s a good thing?”

You want to kiss his stupid mouth until he can’t think. Which you don’t think would take long at all, actually.

“That…” You think about how to phrase it, and it quickly occurs to you. “That. You’re my ‘yes man’.” He is expressionless for a moment, and you wait for comprehension to slowly crawl over him. “I mean, Cecil,” you take his clammy hand in yours. “That it’s always fun with you. I mean that you never shoot down my ideas. Even when you probably should.”

His face splits with a brief - goofy, but wholly endearing - smile. “You have fun with me?”

His big cow eyes go all soft and wet.

Oh boy. This idiot. If you didn’t have fun with him, even just sitting on his grotty couch, what other reason could you possibly have to hang out with him, huh?

You open your mouth to say as much before thinking better of it, but for once Cecil beats you to it.

“I have fun with you too, Hottie.”

It’s another one of those moments of levity that you’ve experienced surprisingly often with Cecil. One of those moments where everything feels a just little more profound. A little more magical. Sometimes, Cecil gets you in the gut just a little harder than expected.

Great. And now you’re thinking of Cecil all up in your guts.

“I should think so - I’m awesome. But, right now? All I’m saying is…” You tap your noggin. “Tank empty. No ideas. It’s your turn to decide what we do tonight? Okay?”

You search his eyes. His big, beautiful, sincere and secretless eyes. You silently ask the true question you want to ask him. I want to know what you want.

You’re not yet ready to admit the questions buried right beneath that one: do you want me back? Could you? Would you, Cecil?

“Yeah?” Cecil responds, unsure, and you immediately worry that you have, in fact, given him too much responsibility. His expression compresses in a frown of deep, deep concentration. Like he’s really wrestling with this.

You watch with bated breath, dying to see what he comes up with - if anything at all.

And then - aha - he finally has it.

“I could jerk off.”

“Wha-?” You playfully bat him in the arm, aghast. “Cecil!!”

“What?” A surprised, contrite laugh bobs in his throat.

“I mean.” You swallow. “How is that an idea for both of us?”

Oh that’s your problem with his idea?

That it’s not participatory enough?

“You could help.”

Your jaw drops open. “Cecil! I’m not gonna-” you switch to a loud whisper “-jerk you off!”

He blinks again, his eyes glinting with a gentle - ever so gentle - flicker of amusement. “You’re not a yes man,” he complains softly, his curly lips sneaking up into a curly smile. “Always shooting down my ideas.”

He bats his lashes at you and oh boy - even Cecil must be starting to figure out that you’re a sucker for those big, pretty brown eyes. Your one true weakness.

“That’s really what you want?” you ask, trying to keep things light. To keep your tone jokey and jovial, like always, despite the rising tremor in your voice. “It would involve getting up, you realise?”

He winks at you - a gesture which seems entirely unlike him and yet somehow works - and smirks down at his crotch. “Already am.”

“If you’re really so uncontrollably horny, why don’t you get someone else around here to help you, huh?” Your heart skips a beat. “Why me?”

He’s looking at you like he wants you but… he’s an opportunistic guy. Goes with the flow. That’s how things come to him; he’ll take his cigarettes and beers and fucks wherever and whenever he can get them.

He unceremoniously pulls out a rolled blunt and lights it up, the filter end pressed between his plush pink lips.

“No.” It bobs as he talks and he takes little, peppered drags to get the burn going.

“No?”

You blink at him dumbly now.

“No. I only want you.”

Correction. That’s the most sure of anything you’ve ever heard him.

He slips forward, exhaling his smoke into your mouth as his lips caress yours. “Come on,” he encourages. “Get going. Before my penis turns into a couch cushion.”

He kisses your laugh, and as his tongue slides hungrily against yours suddenly it isn’t quite so funny. Suddenly, you feel like maybe Cecil has the best ideas.

“Right here?” You reach down, and you smooth your palm over the clothed bulge at his crotch. “In the booth?”

“I’m already barred. Heh. What are they gonna do?”

You smile at him, licking your lips as Cecil bucks up into your hand, his head lolling back against the lip of his seat, and his pretty eyes fluttering closed.

He groans, as your fingers snake to tease open the button at his fly.

“Oops,” Cecil whispers contritely, almost immediately, his cheeks and his ears darkening with a deep crimson flush as he looks over to you. “I just… I…”

Oh God. He just came in his pants, didn’t he? Oh Lord that makes you inexplicably hot.

His big, pretty eyes are wet with apology. “Are you mad?”

“No, Cecil.” Poor baby. “I just think I should take you home and get you cleaned up, hmm?” You next words all run into one, as you struggle to get your new genius plan out of your mouth. “Mayberimyoualittlewhatdoyousay?”

Did you actually just suggest that you take him home to rim him? Good Lord.

He blinks rapidly, the colour in his cheeks flowering more, like a beautiful rose unfurling. “Y-Yes. I say yes.”

It’s a hare-brained plan, for sure, but you decide that for once,

you might as well just…

go with the flow.

It certainly works for Cecil.

#I bet I cave and watch it again #cecil dennis x reader #cecil dennis #Oscar Isaac

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apesarecuul · 9 months ago

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Oscar Isaac characters and video games/gamer!reader

Anselm one was inspired by @reallyrallyauthor

Steven Grant:

I know what you’re going to say. Cliche but he 100% plays animal crossing. It’s cliche but it is RIGHT. He loves digging up little artifacts and seeing them in the little museum. You will have to try hard to get him to play anything else. He’s not much of an action game guy. One night he’s watching you play Red Dead Redemption 2 and decides to give it a try. HE LOVES IT. Does he make any progress? absolutely not. Does he make you watch him play? absolutely.

Marc Spector:

Believe it or not I don’t see Marc as a first person shooter guy. He’s seen more guns and death than you can imagine. Why would he play a game about something he’s already seen first hand? I do think that once he finally gets comfortable he’ll secretly play games like Stardew Valley or Firewatch. He likes experiencing lives he hasn’t had. He won’t tell you that’s the reason for it. He is going to tell you that he plays them ironically. That’s why he romanced every character in Stardew…. To be ironic.

Jake Lockley:

We all know that Jake is an old man on the inside. He’s never been able to indulge in anything that really takes time. So when you got him a tablet for Christmas he didn’t really know what he was supposed to do with it. It was ok at searching up things but not as convenient as his phone, you couldn’t use it to call people but it was good for searching up cooking tutorials behind your back. Once when you got bored on a long car ride you borrowed his tablet and downloaded a few of those games that are riddled with ads. Merge Mansion, Candy Crush, Dragon City, etc. Once he gets it back he’s like ‘what the hell is this?’ And now he’s addicted like an iPad kid. Congratulations. I bet you feel proud of yourself 😠

Anselm Vogelweide:

(NSFW)

He’s not exactly a ‘gamer’. Sure he has all the fancy equipment, VR, PC, haptic suit, tracking, etc. He bought it for you before you two even really started dating because you mentioned wanting a VR headset one day. He doesn’t deny that he was attempting to seduce you and you don’t deny that it worked. What made him start using it however was when you mentioned something called virtual reality porn. Look at what you’ve done. He now has access to even more porn. As if he didn’t have enough. When you’re gone for more than a day he pulls it out and tries to pretend it’s you. He wanted you to make a VR porn game just for him. You had to break it to him that you had no idea how that would even work. Don’t you worry. He will find a way.

Cecil Dennis:

Call of Duty. He has a ratty taped up controller that his cousin through against the wall. He loves the Story mode way better than online. He doesn’t like online because he enjoys the plot more than the competition. (he’s bad at the game and gets bullied) He doesn’t rage. He cries when he dies too many times on a hard segment of the game and either makes to sit in his lap while he tries to get past that segment or he flat out lays ontop of you. Face buried in your neck sniffling.

#steven grant/reader #marc spector/reader #anselm vogelweide/reader #jake lockely/reader #cecil dennis/reader #no Blue this time because I can’t think of anything for him

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midgardian-witch · 1 year ago

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robbie and cecil would soo get turned on watching you tell off some guy at a bar/club,, practically beg you to take them somewhere private right after youre done;)

Oh yes! Robbie and Cecil (both which are of the pathetic meow meow variety of wet cat which are my personal favorites) would fucking melt when they see you defend yourself and tell somebody off.

Cecil's eyes glaze over as he watches you talk down the unwanted advances of some guy that tried to buy you a drink

your tone of voice is a bit off but it reminds him so much of the tone you use when you tell him you're going to punish him for fucking up (again)

his cock is already half hard and forming a noticable bulge in his pants when you turn back to him

he is just staring at you, mouth hanging open, just short of drooling over himself

you're about to ask what's wrong when he suddenly says "Fuck, that was so hot" full of awe

you raise an eyebrow "Oh really?"

"Yeah...," he blinks at you for a moment, "You wanna fuck me in the bathrooms?"

you can't help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief until you realize he's being serious

"Please?" he adds, remembering that you like it when he uses things like manners

you do end up fucking him in one of the bathroom stalls at the bar because Cecil absolutely couldn't wait to get home

now Robbie is a bit less direct about it

he's watching you dance while he guards your drinks when some guy tries to grind against you from behind

you shut that shit down fast and while he can't hear you, just the way you hold yourself makes him swallow hard

Robbie doesn't know what to make of his own reaction to what just happend, "I can't believe this is turning me on - what the fuck" type deal as his dick starts filling up, straining against his pants

when you return to your little corner offside the dancefloor you don't notice anything strange at first

you give him a kiss to his cheek and cuddle up to him as you take your drink from his hands

and he freezes up

you look at him, confused

"You ok, baby?"

he wants to reassure you, tell you that everything is good and that you shouldn't worry

instead what leaves his mouth is a strangled whine as he looks into your eyes

you're very familiar with that look and immediatly your lips curl into a sly grin, leaning in closer

"Are you horny, baby? Need me to make you feel good?" you whisper in his ear

he chokes on a groan and nods frantically

you take a quick look around, easily finding the fastest route to the bathrooms and drag him towards them

#robbie paulson #cecil dennis #robbie paulson x reader #cecil dennis x reader #revenge for jolly #cecil dennis/reader #robbie paulson/reader #ask answered

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 29 days ago

Text

What Did You Take?

A One For The Road Bonus Chapter

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 9: Sex Pollen

Summary: Cecil took... something.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

Warnings: kissing, swearing, talk of drunks, sex pollen, flesh lights, jacking off, p in v sex, oral (afab! receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1556

You answer Cecil’s call almost instantly. He was one of the few people who preferred calling (or video chatting) over messaging, always said he liked to hear your voice.

You liked to tease him that really it was because then he could make sure he was speaking to the correct person, and hadn’t accidentally sent a saucy pic (his dick) to the wrong contact (poor Harry one too many times).

“Hey Cec,” you lean down, grabbing a tin of soup and putting it into your trolley.

“Hey,” He draws out the word, his voice soft and breathy. He was definitely jerking off.

“I’m food shopping.” You say with a smile on your face, “Literally grabbing tins.”

“Uh huh,” he swallows, the sound clicking.

You frown a little, sure Cecil had a big libido, but you were sure even he couldn’t find you picking up ingredients that interesting.

“What you doing Cec?” You tease.

“Jerking off.”

“I got that.”

He whines, a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. “I got the fleshlight between the sofa cushions and I’m…” he moans, “Fuck, it feels really good.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Had to call and tell me about it?”

He hums an affirmative. “I… I can’t…”

You wait a beat, listening to his heavy breathing.

“I can’t get off.”

“What?”

“It’s not working, like, it feels good, so good, but I can’t get to the end.” He whimpers. “I, I took…”

“What did you take Cecil?” Worry spikes into your chest.

“It’s this… thing,” he always was so helpful with descriptions. “It’s, so it’s meant to make you super horny and keep going,” he groans and you hear a particularly wet thrust in the background, “and I thought because we’re hanging out later that it would be good for you if I was… if I could just keep fucking you and so I took it and fuck.” He sobs.

“Cecil?”

“It worked so quickly and I feel so hot, and I wanted to just come and take the edge off and I can’t.” His voice breaks at the end.

You’re already at the self-checkout, quickly paying for your items so you can get the hell out of there and over to him. “When did you take it?”

“Ummm,” he groans, the sound of his thrusts growing louder, “about an hour ago.”

“An hour?”

“And twenty.”

“Cecil! Fuck,” you grab your shopping and head to your car, how long could someone have an erection before they needed to go to the hospital. “So this is like super Viagra?” You say as you sit down and fasten your seatbelt.

“Sort of.” He groans, “God, talking to you helps actually,” he whines, “Feel so close.”

“Where did you get this anyway?” You pull out of the parking lot.

“Benny.”

“Benny?” You swear. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Noo,” Cecil whines, “He’s not that bad, he always gives me good deals, a friend discount.”

“Cecil, he sold you that weed that had roofies in it.”

“That was an accident-”

“And that ritalin and-”

“Can we not talk about him,” Cecil gasps, “please, I was really close.”

You pause, “My voice helps?”

“Oh god, so much.” He whimpers, swallowing thickly.

“I’m on my way over.”

He moans loudly, shivering. “Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, need to see you so bad.”

“Can’t leave you alone for a second can I?” You drive through the light on amber.

“You can’t.”

“Or you’ll go and take weird drugs that could put you in the hospital.”

“You could, um,” he groans deeply, “put me in you or something, I’m sorry, there’s an innuendo there somewhere, I can’t get to it.”

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong.” You tease, trying to make light of the situation and ease your slowly building tension.

He snorts through moans, and then whines pitifully. “I can’t come.” A little sob shakes through him. “I need to so, so, so bad. It hurts.”

“Fuck Cec.”

You make it to his house in record time, using your key to open the front door and practically throwing yourself inside.

Cecil is on you before you even get a chance to call out a greeting.

“You came,” he sobs, he’s naked, his skin flushed and feverish. His heavy cock bobs between his legs as he moves, slick from the lube he’s been using.

“Of course I did,” you stroke his cheeks, looking into his dilated eyes. “I told you I was on the way.” You say soothingly, he still hasn’t become used to you not stringing him along.

“Thank youuu,” He groans, leaning forward and kissing you messily, slipping his tongue into your mouth eagerly. Drinking in your air like it was his only source.

“Cec, Cec,” You manage to pull back, your hands on his cheeks.

He whines pitifully as your lips leave his.

“We should go to the hospital.”

“No, please,” He shakes his head rapidly, “Please, let’s, please, I need you so bad, let’s just fuck and try.”

“Fuck and try,” you snort despite your worry and he grins, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes, yes, try.” He drags you into the living room, yanking at your clothing and kissing your neck.

“Cec, maybe we shouldn’t in the living room, I mean, Harry’ll-”

He lets out a whine of frustration, taking his mouth off your skin only so that he can pull off your top and undo your bra. He licks your chest eagerly, focusing on one and then the other, his eyes rolling back as he sucks.

You gasp, your fingers instinctively sliding through his hair as he works.

He slips his hands down to your hips, hastily undoing your trousers and pulling them down to your knees.

“Cec,” you bite your lip, unsure if you should really be doing this and not taking him to the emergency room.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. He drags you onto the floor, finishes stripping you bare in a matter of seconds.

He’s everywhere, all over, licking and sucking and moaning in your ear as he squeezes and pinches and impatiently pushes his fingers inside.

You shiver at the intrusion, a little gulp escaping your lips. You shouldn’t be enjoying this quite so much, having him so desperate and needy for you.

Cecil whines, gasping and rutting against your leg as he curls his fingers and strokes your walls. “Fuck, oh god, oh god, oh god.”

You don’t even think he realises he’s speaking anymore, just letting whatever thoughts he has fall from his lips.

Pleasure cracks up his spine, makes his vision spin. He groans, bucking his hips faster as he buries his head between your thighs and sucks your clit into his mouth greedily.

You swallow, desperately grabbing at him as your body moves with his, chasing after the sensation he’s lavishing upon you.

He whines, whimpers, so, so close he can almost taste it, but still not close enough. He pulls away from you quickly, muttering apologies at your huff of frustration at the loss.

“Can I? Can I? Can I?” He kneels, taking himself in hand and notches himself at your core, the words fluttering out of his mouth in such a wanton mess they are nearly indistinguishable from each other.

You barely get a chance to nod before he’s pushing in, trying to slow the rapid buck of his hips by squeezing the base of his cock.

“Ohhhh fuuuuuuck.” He sobs, sounding even whinier than usual. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, feels so nice.” He rocks further in, pressing so wonderfully as he stretches you wide.

“Cecil,” you bite your lip as he just sinks down, thrusting shallowly as he bottoms out and presses his chest to yours.

“Yeah?” He sounds floaty, lost in the sensation as he rolls and rocks, keeping his length as deep inside as possible while he rubs the base of his cock against your bundle of nerves in a way that has your mind short-circuiting.

He feels so good like his body was made to fit inside and please you. You grab at his biceps, his curls, moaning against his lips as his fingers dig into your skin in desperation.

“Fuck, baby, please, ah, please can you squeeze my neck, please,” he splutters, his eyes screwed up so tight. “Gonna come, please, need to, I’ll take care of you after, I promise, I promise, I-”

You put your hand on his throat, a warm strong pressure, barely squeezing, more there to ground him than anything. And he sobs.

He ruts twice, frantic. His voice rises to an impressive pitch as he comes deep, his orgasm washing over him and robbing him of all other thoughts.

You expect him to collapse on top of you, nuzzle into your chest.

But he doesn’t.

He keeps moving, keeps bucking, causing pleasure to race along your nerves.

“Cec?” You bite back a moan, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead.

“Fuck, that was so good, so good, fuck.” He grinds his hips, picking up the pace as he fucks his still very erect cock into you.

“Still hard, gonna come again,” he whines, all high pitched and breathless. “Gonna make you come with me this time.” He bites his lip, looking down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

It was going to be a long night.

Thank you for reading!

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female-hysterics · 6 months ago

Note

Ninebluehearts asked:

I'm here to talk about Cecil 😩 I feel like while he does enjoy cuddling, he also sees it as an opportunity to touch you. You're finally all relaxed and pressed against him, enjoying a quiet afternoon together. But he just can't help but run his fingers around your tits and slowly make his way down to your thighs.. 🥴

I love taking about Cecil 😩❤️

Cecil is extremely handsy and will use any excuse he can to touch you. Sometimes he won't even bother with an excuse, just mumble out a "c'mere" or he just grunts, and next thing you know you're in his lap as he happily nuzzles you.

While Cecil is extremely handsy he is also extremely horny. Like all the time. You wouldn't expect it from someone who looks like they were just rudely woken up from a nap no matter the hour and who is generally a pretty chilled out guy (when he's not partying) and it gets to the point where on some days you just forgo any undergarments because they spend more time around your ankles or pushed aside than actually covering anything. Cecil always preens happily when he realized you weren't wearing a bra or panties and those days he got even more touchy.

But in reality he pretty much is a nymphomaniac, especially since you demanded monogamy from him as a stipulation for your relationship. So now all his pent up desires are directed at you and, coupled with his lack of self-control, you often find yourself in situations just like this.

Relaxing on the living room floor in a little mini fort you two made earlier, enjoying the lazy afternoon and the soft buzzing of the TV. You were almost dozing off, so warm and comfortable curled up next to Cecil who was tracing random patterns on your stomach underneath your baggy sleep shirt. You had your eyes closed but you didn't bother opening them when you felt his warm fingers drift up towards your breasts and gingerly roll your nipple between his fingertips until you sighed. You sleepily chalked it up to him just wanting to touch your body like always. Then those fingers skipped over your body, pressing into a ticklish spot on your stomach that made you flinch and grumble, before they delved underneath your shorts. Your eyes flipped open and you popped you mouth open to admonish him when he pressed his thumb against your clit and slipped one finger into your slick hole. You were still dripping and aching for him from your earlier activities, Cecil had pinned your hips to the sink while you did dishes and licked you out until your knees nearly collapsed, and he used that to his advantage.

"You want me again, kitten?" he murmured while steadily pumping his finger, adding another before you could properly respond, and you just gasped his name while kicking your head back against his shoulder.

Cecil mouthed against your shoulder and jaw and even nibbled against your ear before letting you pant against his lips in an open mouth kiss as he added a third finger. His thumb never stopped it's lazily circles and, coupled with the thick fingers fucking you roughly, you knew that your quickly approaching orgasm was going to be brutal.

"Go ahead and come, kitten. Come on my fingers so I can get you to come on my cock next," he said softly with a little smile and the orgasm that stole your breath away was only the first for the night.

#Cecil Dennis #revenge for jolly #cecil dennis x reader #Cecil Dennis headcanons #oscar isaac headcanons #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #the void answers

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winniethewife · 10 months ago

Text

You knew I wanted just to hold you (Cecil Dennis x reader)

Warnings: Drug use, Weed, making out,

A/n: Requested by @summonthesoups Hope you love it! Takes place in the same universe as “Drunk on Christmas”

Words:639

She stood on the Porch, leaning on the railing, a joint in her hand. It was five in the morning and after hours of tossing and turning she had given up on the night. She took a drag of the joint between her fingers and breaths deeply, closing her eyes as she inhales, letting the smoke fill her lungs, a comforting feeling. As she exhales she opens her eyes, she is face to face with her Fiancé Cecil. He looks half asleep and groggy, a slight pout on his face. She lazily offers him the joint and he reaches for it, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He takes a drag as he moves to lean next to her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, his soft warm eyes on hers as he takes another drag.

“No. Fucking insomnia.” She takes the joint back from him and takes another long drag. He tilts his head and looks at her like a sweet confused puppy.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? You didn’t have to be alone.” His voice whiny and slightly sad, like a kid who wasn’t invited to a birthday party.

“Just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean you have to lose sleep too.” She smiles softly at him. Cecil’s response is to wrap his arms around her and pull her in closer nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and he makes a soft whimpering sound.

“Still, I don’t like waking up without you. I get Lonely.” He softly whines. She smiles at him. Cecil was so touchy and needy it was one of the things she loved about him. She hardly ever gets touch-starved with him around. She takes another drag of her Joint before holding it out for Cecil to take the last couple drags. He obliges gladly before tossing the filter out. They both wander back inside, Cecil practically dragging her to the bed. He pulls her under the covers, wrapping himself around her, his nose pressed to her neck his hot breath on her shoulder as he keeps her close. As the weed starts to take effect she lets out a soft giggle, Cecil chuckles, and soon they are a puddle of giggles and laughs, arms and legs tangled together, foreheads pressed together as they stare into each other’s eyes.

“You’re eyes…they’re so pretty, Like, whoa.” He mumbles as he brushes her hair out of her face.

“Yeah? You think?” She chuckles, running her fingers along the stubble on his chin and along his neck.

“Yeah, I think…I think you’re pretty, like…so pretty” he continues, his eyes flutter open and closed, like he was struggling to stay awake, the combination of being tangled up cozy and the marijuana making it hard to keep conscious. She was finally also starting to feel the pull of sleep. She presses her lips to his skin, his forehead, the tip of his nose, finally landing on his lips. He snorts in laughter as he kisses her back, he takes her top lip in-between his teeth and pulls gently, teasing. She laughs.

“What are you doing?” She giggles

“Kissing you! What do you think I’m doing?”

“Being a goofball, that’s what I think you’re doing” She says with a laugh. He looks at her in mock offence.

“Well! Excuse me for being affectionate with my fiancée!” he playfully huffed.

“I’m so sorry honey, how can I convince you to forgive me?” She played along, looking at her with a sweet facial expression. He smiles at her, pulling her close and sloppily kisses her on the jaw.

“I think… I know… how you can… convince me.” He says between kisses, his hands dragging his hands along her body holding her closer and closer. “I want to hold you Babe…please.” He bites at her neck softly she shutters.

“Of course Cecil…I’m yours.”

Masterlist

#cecil dennis x reader #Cecil Dennis #revenge for jolly #x reader #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #fluff #request #Spotify

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blue-sadie · 10 months ago

Text

The Revengeful

Cecil Dennis x Birthday Girl Reader

Series Masterlist

Prt 8 of the Different Versions Series

Summary: waking up on yours and your doppelgangers shared birthday and getting the best gift ever

Warning: table sex

Yn/3rd person pov

I woke up to the soft voices and illuminating glow of the TV, I shifted further back into the couch clutching the blankets tightly as I yawned blinking the sleep away my eyes drifted towards the uncovered window up to the dark stary sky.

I stretched out my arm to grab the phone that was on the table groaning as the brightness blurred my eyea it was 00:47 "what the fuck is wrong with me" I whined slowly sitting up yawning one last time I looked around the room it was a connecting lounge that had the dining room and kitchen on either side.

I stared dead ahead at the TV a boring horror was playing, I perked up hearing a car door shut was it in the movie or outside, it couldn't be in the movie because they were in the sewers and the sound effects didn't suit it "princesa".

I turned my head to the voice hearing keys jiggle and the door unlock "I got you presents" my eyebrows frowned but softened as I saw him walk down the corridor with a small box in one hand and in the other a take away back that looked to be from a mexican restaurant.

"Happy birthday" he smiled stopping a few feet away from me, my lips twitched as I snatched the phone from the table looking at the date "we all share a birthday" I whispered I quickly shook my head before turning to him smiling up at him "thank you" I murmured, he quickly came over placing the food on the small table and gave the box to me the smell of cheap beer and cigarette smoke filled my nose makingit crinkle a bit.

I took it carefully admiring the large bow that was settled on top a little note on it 'love you my birthday girl, love cecil', my mind wondered back to the boys my eyes fluttered shut as I breathed in deeply would they even remember my heart ached as I thought about it "hey what's got my birthday girl down" he murmured wrapping his arm around me as he sat next to me.

I turned my gaze to him smiling sadly "nothing just thinking" I said, he nodded and smiled again as he gestured to the gift "open it" I slowly slipped off the bow before turning off the gift to peel off the tape each time I got closer to the gift he got more excited his knee bouncing in anticipation, I took off the wrapping paper placing it beside me and stared at the black box.

I held it by the sides before flipping the lid up, my breath caught in my throat as I came face to face with a beautiful full necklace that sparkled in the dim glow of the TV "w-wow" I was amazed by the gift my finger tips glazed over the jems my eyes moved between the necklace and him "I don't know what to say" I paused "thank you" I smiled and he smiled back.

"I'll do anything for my birthday girl to be happy" he murmured moving a bit closer "but I'll ask just for a kiss for a thank you" he grinned leaning towards me, I rolled my eyes playfully before leaning in as well intil our lips met in a calm yet passionate kiss my hands slowly moved to his shoulders and his to my waist as I moved to straddle him, my legs settling on either side of him.

"But I could take something else as well" he said pulling back as his eyes slowly moved his way up my body only stopping when our eyes meet "could see it as interest or an early pay on your next gift" I laughed making him raise his eyebrow "what I think that's a great idea" he chuckled as he moved his hand to the curve of my ass.

He moaned into my mouth as his hands tightened their hold on me slightly pushing my bearly covered core against his bulge "maybe this can be your second gift" he groaned moving his lips to my neck his cainies slightly grazing my skin as he sucked on it surely leave a hickie or two "fuck Cecil" I groaned my hands slightly into his clothed shoulders.

"That's it birthday girl say my name" he grinned nipping at my skin making me gasp and turn my head to the side giving him more access to my neck "that's it" he growled as his hands slightly massaged my ass inching down my pj shorts his finger tips dragging themselves down my bare skin of my ass as he guided the shorts down my thighs.

"Even though I fucking love this position I think we need to get our clothes off" I whispered pulling my neck away from his lips he sighed deeply and bit his lips as he stared at the marks he made on my neck, his hands linked under my thighs as he stood up forcing me to lock my legs around him "fuck I don't think we can make it to the bedroom" he groaned pressing his bulging cock into my pussy.

He slide me onto the table and stood back, his hands pulled off my shorts and tank leaving me bare against the cold wood, a shakey breathe Leaving my lips as a shiver run up my spine and my hand clasped the edge of the table my eyes watching his hands drop my clothes to the floor before removing his own.

He slide off his shirt with ease dropping it onto the pile "you love watching me don't you" he grinned as he slowly slid his hands down his chest his nails slightly digging into his skin leaving a light red trail down intill it came into contact with his belt, his eyes stared at me as he undid his belt and pulled it out with a powerful pull he stared at the belt his eyes flickering to mine and a big smile pasted onto his lips as he shook his head placing onto the table beside me.

"I'll save that for another day" he said quietly as he slide off his pants and boxers kicking them off and into the pile, "now where were we" he murmured and stepping back in between my thighs his hands gripping them tightly "I think your about to fuck me" I grinned leaning forward and pressing my lips to his, he chuckled against my lips as one of his hands left my thigh and grabbed his cock running its head up and down my slight.

A wavering moan left my lips as he slowly pushed the head inside he clenched my thighs and pushed in further my hands went to grip his arms as we moaned, he slowly pulled out and pushed back in his thrusts slowly increased as I got used to his size "fuck baby" he groaned dipping his head down to my chest his lips latching around my perky nipples giving them a few licks and sucks before moving onto the other one giving them each a term.

"You are so good for me" Cecil muttered breathlessly as he threw his head back, his thrusts sending jerks through my body, I moaned out my hands tightening their hold on his arms "c-cecil" I whined clenching around him fueling his thrusts "keep doing that for me" Cecil muttered.

My eyes slowly went cross eyed as I slowly layed back down onto the wooden surface the coldness of the wood making me quiver I could feel myself getting closer to the edge "fuck" I cried my thigh muscles tensing as I felt the knot inside me break, my pussy clenched around him hard making it harder for him to do his final thrusts before cumming, he yelled out in pleasure buring himself deep inside.

"Fuck fuck fuck" he groaned as he slowly pulled out and leaned down to watch his cum leak out as sleep started to take over me I felt him dip his hands underneath me picking me up and pushing me against his chest my head laying in the crook of his neck as he slowly walked his way back to the couch my eyes slowly fluttering shut.

"If I get this as I thank you I'll make sure to get you a Dimond ring next time, I love you my pretty baby I hope you had the best birthday ever and remember it's not over yet"

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