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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 month

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One For The Road [1]

Cecil Dennis x AFAB!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals• masterlist • ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: Cecil forgets he invited you over.

A/N: The biggest thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading this and fixing some of my British-isms <3 I owe you my life!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, weed use, fleshlights, Cecil talking about 'Catcher In The Rye', fingering, Cecil coming in his pants, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 3404

You Sit and Talk to Me on the Floor

You lean back against the sofa, getting comfortable as your high pleasantly buzzes in the back of your head.

You’d been pretty pissed when you’d got here and Harry was nowhere to be found. (You, him and Cecil and Harry’s new girlfriend Mary-Ann, who you hadn’t met yet, had plans to hang out and watch a film. Or at least that’s what Cecil had told you.) He’d grinned when he’d opened the door, “What are you doing here?”

Turns out he’d been high (unsurprising) when he’d messaged and asked you. And had promptly forgotten all about it without letting Harry or Mary-Ann know.

And now Harry was ‘working’. Or something. Cecil wasn’t exactly clear.

Ever since he’d been dumped by his girlfriend Cecil had been staying with his cousin to ‘get back on his feet’, or more correctly, ‘make a mess, panic, tidy the house in a crazy rush to a standard that would put a professional kitchen to shame and then repeat’.

He’d apologised for a good fifteen minutes when he realised his mistake, and had offered you a brownie as he ushered you inside.

“Is there weed in this?”

He stared at you like you’d grown an extra head. “It’s a brownie.”

“You know pot isn’t a standard ingredient, right?”

He’d pulled a face that made you laugh. “What’s the point in that?”

Cecil sits on the floor, leaning against the sofa and lolling his head back as he talks to you, “I’m really glad you came actually, sorry again,” he smiles shyly, “I was kinda lonely.”

“You can hire people for that.” You tease and he snorts.

“No, that’s not what I mean. Besides,” he shrugs, “I’m broke.”

You giggle, finding it far funnier than you normally would.

He grins and takes a swig of his beer before another hit from his bong.

“How many brownies did you have?” You ask, interested, you’d only had one.

“Two… and a half.”

“And you’re smoking too?”

“Yeah? I mean,” he puffs up his chest proudly, “I got a high tolerance.”

“If there were an olympics in getting high you’d probably get a gold.”

“I definitely would get a gold, I bet they used to have that, weed consuming, in the olympics I mean. They used to have poetry and people competing naked and everything, and then it got ruined.”

“With clothes or lack of poems?” You smile.

“Both.” He nods confidently. “Though maybe some clothes is a good idea…” He ponders for a moment, “I bet if you run and you got no pants on your dick just,” he flops his hand around like crazy and you giggle, “I mean, that would hurt. And boobs!”

“Boobs?” You wheeze out.

“Yeah, I bet some boobs would hurt too, you need those high impact bras and all that.”

“How do you know about that?” You run your hand through his hair absentmindedly, he always did have such soft, rich curls.

“I’m a guy of knowledge, you know. I know many things.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what then?”

He leans a little into your touch, smiling as you stroke his hair. “Erm, I know that this,” he taps the part of the sofa he’s leaning against, “is called a sofa skirt.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.” He grins at you when you poke out your tongue. “I know the sky’s blue because of Rayleigh scattering-”

“What’s Rayleigh scattering?”

“Why the sky is blue.”

“Cecil…” You roll your eyes playfully and he giggles.

“Okay, okay, it’s to do with light particles and how they,” he waves his hand to the side making a buzzing noise, “move about when they’re in a wavelength.”

“How do you know that?”

He shrugs, “I dunno. Just do. Something stuck once I guess.”

You nod, “Pretty impressive skill.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, “I don’t control what sticks, I’ve literally read every single math book I ever could on how to do algebra when I was in high school and nothing.” He pauses and then smiles, “I can quote Catcher in the Rye to you though.”

“What?” You shift a little, leaning closer. “Like the whole thing?”

“Mostly,” he shrugs again but he puffs his chest out, obviously pleased at your interest. “But I guess I could just be making it up if you don’t know it word for word and don’t have a copy in front of you.”

“I trust you.” You say kindly and he beams.

“Well, okay, look, first paragraph, because it’s easy,” he swallows and clears his throat.

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.” He puts on a voice as he speaks, at first it’s jokey as he tries to poke a little fun at himself, but as he continues it relaxes, becomes more like he’s inhabiting the voice of the character.

“That’s very, very cool.” You grin and he smiles shyly, looking down at his hands before taking another hit. “Yeah, well, doesn’t help much.”

“You like Catcher in the Rye?”

He nods. “Got an A+ on that report.” He grins, “I always thought it was sad, you know? The story I mean. Just a kid trying to be an adult because that’s what society implies, when really he just wants to be… you know… enjoy his childhood.” He nods a little. “I like that his little sister is more mature than him, that he has this innocence to him. That even though the story is about a loss of that, in the end, I dunno, I don’t think it fully happened.”

You incline your head, staying quiet so he’ll continue.

“I mean, I think he’s still innocent. Still playing at being an adult. Like everyone is.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “But whatever.”

You give his shoulder a light shove, “But whatever? Cec,” you lean forward, your hand still in his hair, “that’s so good, like insightful.” You say sincerely.

He gives you a bashful smile, his eyelashes fluttering a little as you compliment him. “Yeah, you know, thanks.” There’s the smallest flush to his cheeks. “You’re so smart and everything so that means a lot.”

“Cec,” you say softly, shaking your head, “you gotta think better of yourself.”

He nods halfheartedly.

“Really, you got to, you…” You pause, trailing off as something catches the light and inadvertently, your eye. It’s shoved to the side, on the floor between the right hand side of the sofa and the wall.

Cecil looks around to where you’re staring, mildly interested for a moment before his eyes widen. “Oh, shit, sorry!” He goes to push it further under the couch and out of sight but doesn’t reach far enough and ends up falling onto his side and flailing about.

“Is that what I think it is?” You giggle, unable to stop yourself.

“Erm…” He looks up at you, trying his best to give you a winning smile from the floor. “That depends on what you think it is?” His voice is hopeful.

“A flesh light?”

He groans and puts his hand dramatically over his face.

You laugh harder.

“Ugh.”

“It is?” You ask excitedly, unsure why this is amusing you quite so much.

“Mhmmm.”

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my goooooood,” you lean down and ruffle his hair until he has to take his hand off his face to bat you away and starts laughing, “Cecil getting it on in the living rooooooom.”

“No!” He lies.

“Ohhhhh, is that what you were doing before I got here?” The glee in your voice is palpable. “Is that why it took you so long to answer the door?”

“Stop.” He tries to pout but keeps laughing. “I hadn’t got that far yet.”

“Yet?”

“You came over! That’s more important than jacking off.”

You snort loudly. “I’m honoured.”

He pulls a playful face and lightly smacks your calf.

“I wouldn’t have stopped having a wank just because you came over.” You joke and Cecil bursts into hysterics.

He manages to calm down long enough to spit out his next words, “I wouldn’t ask you to stop.”

“What?”

“If you wanted to get down and whatever, that’s fine, I’d just hang in the kitchen.”

It’s your turn to have a laughing fit. “Oh, you’re so slimy.” You tease, adjusting your skirt as you move.

“No, no,” he sits up, still giggling, his cheeks flush. “I wouldn’t watch or listen, I’m not being a perv.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Hey! I don’t need to spy on people, I can, you know.”

“What?” You grin.

“See it on the TV whenever.”

You start laughing again. You had been expecting a bit of macho, ‘I can pick up willing partners whenever I want to’, not ‘I’ll watch some porn’.

“Yeah?” You prod him in the arm playfully.

“Yeah.” He nods, “that’s what I was doing before you came over.”

“Oh, good to know.” You chuckle. Part of you knows it’s the weed that’s making you a little less guarded than you usually were, but you can’t help yourself. “What were you watching then?”

“Well, I hadn’t decided yet.” He shrugs, but he’s grinning, obviously quite happy to talk with you about this. “I was having a look.”

“On what?”

“PornHub,” he shuffles towards the TV on his knees and grabs the remote and then his phone. “I cast it, see,” the screen mirrors his phone as he scrolls through. “I was just browsing.”

“You say that so casually.” You goad him playfully.

“Yeah, well, I mean why not? Most people look at porn.”

You nod.

“Don’t you?” He asks, quite innocently as he cocks his head to the side.

Heat rushes under your skin. “Well, erm, yeah, I mean.”

He grins, but not in a gloating way, more pleased that you’re both sharing something.

“What, erm,” you squirm a little, feeling foolish and trying to push the focus back to him. “What do you normally watch?”

“Like porn wise?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He grins, “lots actually, my tastes are very varied.” He says like he’s talking about wine. “Sometimes two girls, sometimes a guy and a girl, sometimes two guys, sometimes a group. Sometimes just someone by themselves.” He shrugs and looks up at you, when he sees you’re still listening he swallows and continues, “I got a favourite.”

You nod, your mouth dry.

“It’s two girls, erm, it’s not even like, that,” he waves his hands, “it’s just, it’s quieter, I guess? They sound more… natural. Like it’s not being put on for show, and they got like, these suits. It’s not like latex or anything, not that there’s a problem with that, it’s sort of like body suits, skin tight, but hands are free, and boobs, and,” he motions to his crotch, “down there, and… they sort of… like just…” his face reddens a little more. “They, rub together in like missionary and come and… and it just sounds so nice. They look like they’re really enjoying it.”

He looks up at you again and fidgets, his eyes dark.

The nervous expression, the flush to his cheeks shouldn’t be endearing, shouldn’t make you feel a twist of heat in your stomach.

“I could… show you?” He says quietly, like he’s trying to tiptoe around something else.

You find yourself nodding once, saying, “Okay.” before you even realise it.

He finds it quickly on his phone and sits down next to you on the sofa, a hands width away.

You stare at the TV while looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“This reminds me of high school.” He says quietly, biting his lips together. “A group of us used to, when porn was harder to get hold of, used to like, watch it together and smoke.”

You nod, a quick reply simply not coming.

The video starts, the two women posing for the camera before they make their way to the bed.

“I used to worry,” he continues, “because sometimes weed makes me really horny.” He shrugs, flinching inwardly at why he said that.

“I get that.” You swallow.

One woman climbs on top of the other.

“You do?” He asks.

“Yeah,” why are you speaking, why can’t you just shut up? “The horny thing.”

“From smoking or watching porn?” He asks innocently.

“Both, I guess.”

He hums, nodding. “Me too.”

You both continue to watch for a moment in an odd silence, the air is thick with an oppressive weight. You want to look at him again, want to see his soft eyes and plump lips.

Cecil shifts a little, fidgeting once before he pushes the heel of his hand against his leg and… wait… not his leg.

His erection is straining against his jeans.

You can’t help but look, going over the shape and outline and- You freeze. He’s looking right at you.

“Sorry.” He gives you a sheepish smile as if he was the one that had been caught perving. “Guess it’s a bit more obvious on me.” He jokes, but the tips of his ears still flush.

“No, yeah, I mean…” you stumble over your words, trying to fill the gaps as the moans from the TV grow louder and… they did sound like they were having fun. “I mean,” you swallow and start again, “I, if I had a dick, you’d see it,” you motion your hand upright.

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“Not just saying that to make me feel better?” He asks, gently nudging you in the shoulder.

“No… I would.”

He gives you a sweet look, but it’s still disbelieving.

“Cecil, I’m not lying.”

“I don’t know…”

“Why would I lie?”

“You’re too nice all the time, it’s not lying it’s ‘sparing my feelings’.” He motions with his hands.

“Well, I’m not,” you fold your arms. “I’m being truthful.”

“Okay.”

“Cecil.”

“I said okay,” he teases. “I’m agreeing with you.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

He nods. “That’s true.”

You huff air through your nose, exasperated. “I’m not lying.”

“Sure.”

“There’s no point to me lying.” Your voice raises a little at the end, which only makes it sound more like you are lying.

“Okay.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

He laughs, “just because you’re a dirty and bad liar, doesn’t mean-”

You don’t know why you do it, but you grab a hold of his hand and press it forcefully between your legs. “See?” Your voice sounds sure of itself, like a gloat. But your mind is just only catching up with your actions. And the sensation of Cecil’s warm, thick fingers against your core.

You’re wearing a skirt, the only thing separating your skin from his is the thin material of your panties which are undoubtedly damp.

“Oh,” he breathes, his cock twitches. “Yeah, you’re…”

You freeze, still holding his hand against you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His fingers brush a little against the cotton. The action takes you by surprise and much to your dismay a weak gasp leaves your lips.

He glances up to your face as you keep your eyes closed, screwing them shut to avoid his gaze. But seemingly he finds what he was looking for.

He moves his fingers again, a little firmer this time, tracing a soft circle against your clit and you shudder.

There’s a pause, a fraction of a second as he waits for you to stop him, to tell him no.

You don’t.

So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re squirming. Your breath is coming out fast as your hips shallowly move in time with his fingers.

He inches closer to you, pressing his chest against your shoulder and resting his forehead on your temple.

Cecil moans softly in your ear as you whine, your lip between your bottom teeth as you watch the two women fuck on screen without really seeing.

He slowly presses on the damp patch, rubs along your core before he slips your underwear to the side and touches you lightly.

You jolt, gasping, turning your head to press your forehead to his.

He groans as he traces his forefinger along your slit, marvelling at the slick that coats the tip of his finger before he lightly pinches your clit.

“Cecil,” you breathe.

“It’s okay,” he mutters, kissing your cheek and then your lips gently, “it’s okay, it’s just a friend helping another one out. Just helping…” He drapes his free arm around your shoulders, his fingers mirroring the pattern of his other hand on your arm.

He kisses you again, soft and sweet as he lightly teases you with the tip of his tongue.

The second you part your lips he inhales deeply, angling his hand and pushing two fingers deep inside while flicking your clit with his thumb.

You gasp, your moans music to his ears as he kisses you wantonly as he curls and strokes your walls.

“Oh, god, you’re really wet,” he bites his lip, grunting as he presses closer, curls deeper until you’re bucking and practically sobbing. “Really tight, mmm, feel so nice inside.” He mumbles, not really registering what he’s saying as he pants in your ear. “Thank you for letting me, oh,” he shivers as you whine, grabbing hold of any part of him you can reach and clinging on, silently begging him to continue.

“Is that good? Is that where it’s nice?” He swallows, stroking the same spongy spot again and groaning when your thighs quiver.

You nod rapidly and he coos, “oh good, good, mmm,” he kisses your neck, breathing deeply to fill his lungs with your scent. “God, so nice and warm, bet you got the cutest little pussy? Fuck.” He groans, moving so he can rub his crotch against your thigh, “you’ll let me look sometime? I would love to see it, bet it’s so sweet.”

Your eyes roll back, your muscles tensing as he keeps moving, keeps pulling you closer to that edge. Your moans are overshadowing the sounds of the TV, the squelch of his fingers fucking you relentlessly bouncing around the room.

You can hardly think, hardly form words, your mind obsessed with the reaction that all consuming pleasure that is so, so near.

“Bet it’s the prettiest pussy I’ll ever see,” he groans, the friction of his jeans burning deliciously against his cock as he rubs himself over your thigh, making him lightheaded. Being near you is making him lightheaded. The fact that you’ve let him touch you, and be in you is dizzying and those sounds you’re making are enough to make him come on the spot. Right now, so close. Just a tiny little more friction and-

You clench around his fingers, crying out as your orgasm is pulled expertly from you. Cecil whines, keeps moving his thick fingers in that blinding pattern and pressure, as he follows you instantly. Your blissed out expression driving him clean over the edge.

You shiver, your thighs shaking as you come, as the pleasure seems to stretch onwards and as Cecil moans softly in your ear.

You both breathe, Cecil’s fingers still inside you as you stroke a hand through his hair. A wet patch starts to bleed into his boxers, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’re so close and he feels so happy.

He opens his mouth to speak and-

There’s a key in the lock, and the front door opens. You both jump, moving away from each other to the opposite ends of the sofa as Harry comes back.

You feel oddly empty without his touch, without his fingers buried inside.

Harry pokes his head around before he comes into the room, he looks at the bong and beer and porn still playing on the TV. “You guys started the party without me?” He kids.

You laugh, not entirely convincing.

“Cecil, man, what’re you doing showing off your porn playlist huh?” Harry jokes and Cecil shrugs.

He’s using his forearm to cover any signs of his softening erection and wet patch, while he dangles his other hand off the arm of the sofa, out of Harry’s sight. Where his cousin can’t see how he rubs his slick covered fingers together.

Thank you for reading!

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