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dearsnow · 7 months

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ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)

- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)

word count: 2,647

a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!

It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.

“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.

Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know for sure. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.

You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.

“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”

The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.

Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.

He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.

He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”

You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”

“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.

He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.

It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.

Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.

“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.

“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”

Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.

You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.

He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.

He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.

“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”

Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”

He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.

You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?

“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.

“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.

It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.

By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.

You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.

“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.

You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.

You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.

“What do you think about Y/N?”

Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”

There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”

Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”

Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”

“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”

“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.

Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.

After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.

He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”

You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.

Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.

“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.

“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”

Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.

“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”

For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.

You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”

“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.

“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.

He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.

He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.

“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.

When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.

Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.

“Can I kiss you?”

You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“

He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.

When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.

“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”

He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”

You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”

“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.

“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”

#solar eclipse.#charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton #dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dps #dps fanfiction #dps fandom #dps x reader #dps charlie

638 notes · View notes

ash5monster01 · 9 months

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hii could i request a neil perry smut, similar to the charlie one. With a Taylor Swift song!! Love your work🤍🤍

New Romantics

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, lust, sexual attraction, smut, mentions of nudity, oral, p in v, first time, fluff

Summary: Neil Perry falls for you out of no where. In his minor crisis over his feelings for you, you find yourself feeling the exact same about him. After all a forbidden romance was far more interesting than the boring life you both had stuck in Welton.

a/n: I’m so sorry I absolutely got carried away with this but sweet precious little Neil and Taylor Swift. It’s genius.

word count: 5,234

Masterlist

Neil Perry didn’t really care about girls. That didn’t mean he wasn’t attracted to them, of course he was. He just had far more important things to focus on than obsessing over a girl and her looks. That also wasn’t to say he didn’t care about those things either. Hell he had seen plenty of naked girls from the magazines Charlie stole from his father. He just never had in person and he was okay with that. He had things to focus on like school and pleasing his Dad. If he obsessed over girls like Charlie or Knox did he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the important stuff. At least that was what he thought until he saw you.

Neil had never been bothered by girls attending Welton like the other boys had. He’d rather them be comfortable and not distracting while he was here. Guys like Hopkins were the ones that couldn’t leave them alone. That was how he had ended up spotting you. Hopkins was leaning over you, hand pressed into the wall, his free arm trying to snake its way around your waist. Your heel came down so hard into the boys foot Neil actually heard him whimper.

“I told you to leave me alone!” you seethed, Neil’s eyes lifting to see your long hair swinging violently in your pony tail, bright eyes wide, nostrils flared. His heart stopped. You were damn near the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He was so distracted by the hills of your lips, imagining them pillowy soft against his own, he didn’t even notice you were now looking at him. A look in your eyes that could kill with your hands planted tightly on your hips.

“You want a go?” you asked, narrowed eyes and bright teeth shining behind your perfect red lips. Neil visibly gulped before shaking his head, clutching his books to his chest. You scared him. Yet not in the way you should. You scared him because for the first time in his life he found himself unable to deny his attraction.

“No, no. I uh, no” your head tipped back, the roll of your eyes so heavy he swore they almost disappeared. He wished your head would tip back like that looking up at him, touching him, taking care of him. The thought made his heart constrict in his chest, because he had never thought that about a girl before. It was as if he couldn't stop it, there was just something about you that made his skin tingle with anticipation. He had never had that before.

“Whatever Perry, find something else to entertain you” you scolded, briskly walking past him, shoulder brushing against his own. Unable to avoid it, another thought of you laying underneath him, with that fiery look appeared, and he actually had to close his eyes to shake the thought away.

So Neil spent the better part of the entire week trying to chase away thoughts of you. It was exactly what he had been afraid of. All consuming, distracting thoughts that he couldn’t seem to make go away. He had zoned out through three entire lectures before realizing he had a serious problem on his hands. He needed a way to get you out of his system and fast. Yet every time he was close to getting himself to stop he realized having thoughts and feelings for you was the most exciting thing to happen all year. The most exciting thing to ever happen in this school actually. At least since Keating had started teaching.

“Hey Neil, do you have the latin notes?” Charlie asked from Neil’s bed, surrounded by homework he was behind on. He preferred to catch up on it in the presence of his best friend rather than Cameron. Charlie didn't need a lecture about trying better at school from any one other than his father. Cameron had a habit of acting a lot like his Dad.

“Um, no actually” Neil gave him a sheepish look, long finger pushing the wired glasses up his nose.

“What do you mean no? You take notes even when Cameron helps us with math” Charlie sat up, confusion flooding his entire face. He just expected Neil to throw the notes over, he had never said no before.

“I was distracted” Neil shrugged, unsure how to properly explain himself.

“Something is up with you, you’ve been acting weird all week” Charlie shook his head, trying to read what was going on in Neil's head. Thing was it was usually Neil having to tell him what to do, not the other way around. As Charlie sat there trying to figure it out Neil felt the answer bubbling in his chest, ready to jump out at any moment. “What is going on?”

“Y/N” Neil blurted, nerves making his skin feel like it was on fire under the stare of his longest and oldest friend. The minute the name left his mouth he winced and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch Charlie as he processed this random response.

“Y/N? Like the Y/N in our latin class that tells Mcallister to eat it when she forgets her homework?” Neil opened his eyes and nodded, embarrassment covering his cheeks in a bright red.

“Since when do you even talk to her?” Charlie asked, arms crossing over his chest as an amused look covered his face. Neil never talked about girls, so this was a first.

“I don’t, but I can’t get her out of my head” Neil groaned as he gripped at his hair, more dirty images of the girl flashing through his mind. He needed help and as soon as he could get it.

“No way, Neil has a crush” Charlie snickered and that’s when Neil dropped his head on his desk, a defeated grunt escaping his lips.

“That’s the thing, it’s not just a crush” now that peaked Charlie’s interest, his best friend getting all squeamish about a girl was bound to be interesting.

“Not just a crush?” Charlie asked, eyebrows high in amusement. This was pure entertainment for Charlie, Neil embarrassed about a girl. Normally it was Neil being embarassed when Charlie said gross things about a girl.

“I can’t stop thinking about her. I watched her stomp on Hopkins foot and next thing I know I'm thinking about kissing her and..... other things" Charlie laughed loudly, eyes crinkling shut because for the first time it wasn't just him getting all hot and bothered over a girl. Hell it was Neil of all people.

"Wow, I did not expect this" Charlie said once he had finally calmed down, still amused over the predicament his friend was in.

"Stop laughing man, I need your help. I don't know what to do and if my grades slip because of this my Dad will kill me" Neil pleaded, not enjoying his friends amusement one bit. Charlie had been fighting attraction his whole life, Neil had never found anything worth it to be attracted to. At least until now.

"Look there's only one way to get rid of an itch, and that's to scratch it" Neil furrowed his eyebrows, confusion covering his face.

"I don't think that's true, actually the worst thing for an itch is to scratch it" Charlie rolled his eyes at his friends literalness and shook his head.

"Not that kind of itch, look you're not gonna stop thinking about her until you at least talk to her. Even better way to scratch it is to do all the things you're thinking about but let's start with baby steps" Charlie told him and Neil somehow turned even redder, the idea of even acting on his thoughts embarassment enough.

"Fine, I'll talk to her but that is it"

Welton sucked. Truly since the moment you had been here. The last thing you needed was to be harrassed by boys who had gone here so long without girls they'd have no idea how to act when one finally showed up. Yet your parents made you anyway the minute it became co-ed and it was exactly like you had predicted. Almost every boy in the school harrassed you, sexualized you, made slimy comments, and out right direspected you. A small part of you sympathized with them not being taught but at the same time you didn't feel the need to deal with it. It wasn't your job to make them decent human beings, it was their mothers, and all their mothers abandoned them here. So all you could do was put them in their place when they tried to mess with you. You had yet to meet a Welton boy that respected you.

You liked to pretend it didn't bother you but it did. You hadn't really gotten close to the other girls and all the boys ever did was tear you down. Everyone in this school was too bored and tired of everything. All they could do is mess with each other while they all waited for their escape. Especially you, waiting for that train you knew would never come. Didn't matter anyway, your parents were no better than this no good school. So all you could do was watch as they all flirted with each other, disgusting displays of undeceny, practically wearing scarlett letters like the Nathaniel Hawthorne book. Little did they know yours was better, you just hadn't bothered to show it.

Being young it was easy to play innocent, like being in this school wasn't putting you on the road to ruin. So everyone in this school could play dumb but they all knew what being here meant. It meant saying goodbye to the finer things in life, accepting a life of successful educational pursuits, with no passion for life behind it. So you continued to listen to girls cry in the bathroom at night and see the distraught faces of the boys when they realize now that their on this train they will never be abe to get off. Too focused on the progressive classrooms without realizing living their life held the best lesson for them. You hoped Keating would help them realize that, before it was too late at least. So that was what you thought about once English class had ended, the teacher yet again surprising the students in the classroom.

"Y/N?" turning you spotted Neil Perry, the dreamy dough eyed boy that sat two seats behind you. You had yelled at him last week, you hadn't meant to but people like Hopkins made you so mad anyone that happened to be in the cross fire could end up burned too.

"Hey Neil" you smiled lightly at him, hoping you wouldn't have to add another boy to the list of Welton imbeciles.

"Hey, uhm. I uh-. Could you-?" you watched as he stumbled over his words, eyes darting around your face, looking anywhere but your eyes. You realized he was nervous and he was also trying his best not to disrespect you. That was new.

"Take a breath Perry, I promise I'm not going to stomp on your foot" you chuckled, hand gripping his shoulder to ease the tension slighty. Finally his eyes met yours and they held so much adoration you swore your heart melted on the spot.

"I was wondering if you had the latin notes?" your eyebrows furrowed, surprised he was asking about notes. Especially since he was friends with Meeks who was top of the class. He spotted your confused face and the panic set in again.

"I mean yeah, but isn't Steven always on top of that stuff?" you asked as you began to dig through your bag, looking for the notebook.

"Yeah which is exactly why I don't want him to know I've been forgetting to take notes" at this you laughed lightly and Neil swore his heart stopped. He had made you laugh, Charlie was right. So far this conversation had already done so much for Neil, when all at the same time it was making his feelings for you absoltuley so much worse.

"Has something been on your mind?" you found yourself asking as you finally found the notebook and moved to hand it to him. Neil gulped nervously and chuckled.

"Uh, I guess you could say that" he said, adding the notebok to his mountain high of textbooks. "Thank you for this, and also I thought Hopkins deserved it just so you know. That's not how you treat a lady, especially you"

"I'm nothing too special, but thanks" you smiled softly at him, not expecting this. All the boys you had run into this year had been so vile. Who would've thought Neil Perry was a sweet heart.

"You're everything Y/N" Neil told you, stare hard as if the look itself could convince you of your worth. Your skin instantly started to crawl, your neck heating up, because damnit Neil Perry was cute and he just said you were everything.

"Would you want to study for latin together? My roomate goes to the library every night from six to seven so we could then" you found yourself saying, unsure why you had seemed to cave. You swore you weren't going to allow Welton boys in but you forgot how real gentlemen had acted and Neil was starting to take your breath away.

"In the girl dorms?" the color seemed to suddenly drain from his face and you snickered, the way he was so shy making you gigle like a young school girl. After all it was what you were but so many of the rude boys and vicous girls had thrown bricks at your cool and innocent structure. Hell you could build a castle from how many they had thrown at you. Yet, even if every day at this school was a battle maybe a night with Neil Perry could be a dream.

"Yes, Mrs Leonard reads in her room around that time. You won't get caught, promise" you told him, assuring him that the hall monitor wouldn't be on duty if he stopped by. Neil suddenly found himself nodding, the idea of seeing where you sleep every night, where you change, sending him into over drive.

"Okay, uh, sounds good. I'll see you then" you smiled softly before nodding and leaving him behind, a smirking Keating from his desk staring the young boy down.

"Should I be worried?" he teased and Neil shook his head, the tips of his ears red.

"No, we're just friends" Neil lied, right through his teeth, and Keating just laughed.

"My boy, you don't look at friends like that" Neil nodded, a blush permanently etched across his face as he rushed to tell Charlie because the only way he would survive the night was learning the expertise of someone who was a master at sneaking onto the girls dorm floor.

If you were being honest you half expected Neil to not show up. He wasn’t really known around the school to cause trouble. So when he showed up at your door, 6 o’clock on the dot, your heart fluttered. He had rid himself of his formal school uniform, now in sweat pants and a white t-shirt that he had covered in a long sleeve flannel to keep warm. The way he looked warmed you over as well.

“You came?” you found yourself saying out loud, stepping out of the way for him to slip easily into the room.

“Yeah, I wanted to spend time with you” Neil told you, honesty dripping from his tongue like honey. You watched as his eyes scanned your room, taking in the differences, and possibly the similarities to his own. Then his eyes landed on you and it wasn’t hard to miss the way they had darkened.

Neil almost rubbed his eyes because he had pictured you in a silk night set hundreds of times. It was how most of his fantasies would start. Now here you were in front of him, a silk red set laying softly against your skin. Long legs bare and for him to see. Maybe he was day dreaming again. Surely this couldn’t be real? He was going insane and he was going to start losing it. First his grades then he won’t be sure what planet he is even on.

“I didn’t take you for the sneaking around type?” you finally said, surprised goodie two shoes Neil had not only snuck away from his dorm floor but snuck his way onto yours.

"I'm not, but lately I've learned some risks are worth taking" Neil told you, hard stare set on you. You weren't one to fall easily into guys but for some reason the way Neil looked at you made your skin crawl. You allowed his stare to wash over you, refresh you, and for the first time you allowed yourself to think it was possible to be something with Neil Perry. After all you could be the new romantics and even though heart break was a national anthem you both could sing it proudly. Neil was a reminder that the best people in life are free.

"Um, here are your notes" Neil finally spoke into the silence, nervously gulping as he returned the notebook. It was damn near impossible to copy the notes when thoughts of tonight seeped into his mind, doing things in your dorm bed that no dorm bed should ever see. The minute he would get his focus back he would stumble upon some hearts you doodled and it would start the process all over again. He wished he could get every single heart tattooed on his body.

"Oh perfect! I'm glad I could help" you told him, taking this notes and turning to set them on your desk. You used this moment to catch your breath, no longer looking at Neil Perry like something you wanted to corrupt. Yet that was exactly how he was looking at you because the red fabric covering the curve of your ass was making him want to bite it like an apple, any taste of you willing to soothe his internal war of lusting after you. He was so distracted he hadn't even noticed you had turned back around and had caught him practically drooling over you.

Quickly his eyes snapped up to yours, unable to read your face. He waited for any type of reaction, more than likely one similiar to when you bruised the hell out of Hopkins foot but instead you just sat there, staring back him giving no clue as to what you were thinking. Little did he know this was poker and you were about to play your ace. When you're a teenager you are too busy dancing to get knocked off your feet but afterall you need love and all you want is danger. A forbidden romance could be exactly that. You knew starting something with him the rumors would spread like wildfire but the thing about rumors is even if they were terrible and cruel most of them were true. So what would it matter if they had one more brick to throw at you. Neil still didn't have a single clue as to what was happening as you took a step closer to him.

"I can leave, I didn't mean to upset-" Neil froze as you held up a hand to stop his apology. For the first time since you had a caught him a smile broke across your face.

"Please stay" you told him, your eyes now practically begging for the boy who had been falling apart for you all week. Neil's shoulders relaxed as he nodded, a soft smile on his face as he realized you were looking at him like he looked at you.

"Okay" he told you and before he could process what was happening next your arms were flinging around his neck, mouth sealing against his own. Eyes wide and unsure hands quickly turned into holding onto you like at any moment you would disappear and this wouldn't be real. Your lips were as soft as he imagined, you tasted sweet like sugar, and now that you were so close he could smell your shampoo. His senses were trying to take it all in, commit it to memory, because until now it was just what he had imagined and now you were pressed against him, mouth hot against his own and chest pressed tightly against his. You weren't wearing a bra, he had noticed immediately and now he wasn't sure he would survive this. Surivve you.

"Is this okay?" you asked as you pulled away, panting to catch your breath but Neil didn't answer because now that he had a taste he couldn't stop. His lips were now trailing down your neck, your perfume clinging to him, and he vowed to never wash it away. Charlie was right about scratching that itch but he needed it fully taken care of. One kiss would not solve over a weeks worth of painful pent up sexual feelings for you.

You read his message loud and clear and as his lips continued to taste every visible inch of skin your hands were pushing the flannel off of his shoulders. The fabric dropped to the floor and now your fingers were curling under the hem of his white t-shirt and he only removed himself from you for a second to allow you to remove it completely. Your head fell back in a gasp as his cool hands slipped underneath your own shirt, pressing softly into the flesh of your back, and impossibly closer to him. You had planned on studying, truly, but now that he was flush against you, his length against your stomach you realized you might never think of latin ever again.

"Take it off" you whispered in his ear and he finally detached himself from your neck, careful to not leave any marks. His eyes searched yours for any uncertainty but you didn't seem uncertain at all so he didnt hesitate to grip the red fabric and pull it over your head, lifting your hair with it. His eyes dropped instantly, taking in your bare form, hair swooshing down, and making you look like an angel. He realized none of Charlie's dirty magazines could never ever compare to the real thing. To you.

You realized his nerves and slowly grabbed his hands in your own. You gave him a reasurring smile as you lifted them, placing them directly on your chest. Nervously his hands cupped around your breasts, squeezing softly as he determined exactly what it felt like. He didn't want to hurt you after all. Your head tipped back at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth and he realized he much preferred that one over Hopkins. As if his body was on auto pilot his mouth moved to cover your own, to swallow your whimper, and sear it into his heart forever.

Your hands fell up one his shoulders, guiding him towards your dorm bed. Neil’s hands only left your chest when the back of his knees met the edge of your bed and he fell down into it. Propping himself up on his elbows he watched as you shimmied out of the silk shorts, leaving you in a white pair of underwear, a small bow right in the center. His eyes locked onto it like a missile to its target as you lifted yourself to straddle his lap. Neil fell back in the sheets, groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fuck, there is no way this is real right now” he spoke his thoughts out loud and you giggled lightly, leaning down so your face was hovering right over his.

“You treat me like I’m worth something Neil Perry, because of that I have no issue allowing myself to feel things for you” you whispered to him, wanting him to know that in this shit show of a school at least there was one other kindred spirit just like his.

“You should know you’re the only person I’ve felt things for ever” he told you in return and you smiled before sweetly kissing him, something you planned on doing for as long as you could.

You deepened the kiss once Neil’s hands gripped your waist, planting you firmly above his erection and trying desperately to not rut into you like a needy dog. Yet he was failing miserably because he could feel you everywhere and the sensation of your bare chest against his own was about to become much better. His thoughts were halted when your fingers curled into his waist band, head pulling away from his own as your eyes flashed to his bare torso. He looked at you pleadingly, begging you to do anything, so you stood up, tugging the sweatpants down along with his plaid boxers.

Never would you have guessed Neil Perry would be naked in your dorm bed yet here he was, in all his glory, clearly doing everything he could to last. Which he wasn’t going to much longer because now your were on your knees, delicate fingers tracing along the vein on the underside of his cock. The image more perfect than the first time he imagined it, the first time he had imagined you. “I’m gonna take care of you”

And then your tongue was licking a long stripe from the base of his dick to the very top. Your lips closing around to give it a soft kiss and Neil felt tears beginning to fill his eyes, a desperate mess and so needy for you. The effect you had was dangerous and he was done for, officially. He should just drop out. Then he couldn’t think of that any longer as your mouth finally closed around him, taking as much as you could. He rutted against the back of your throat, your hands palming his balls and he felt himself begin to tremble. You only smirked at the reaction, sucking him for all he was worth.

“I’m not, I’m not gonna make it” he stuttered out but before he could succumb to his needs you were releasing him with a pop, a small smirk on your face as he lost his orgasm. You felt only a little guilty as he looked at you so wounded.

“Don’t worry baby, I want us to finish together” you told him, now standing as you slid your panties down your legs. Neil cursed himself for hardening quickly again at the sight. You sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air met with the wetness of your core and before you could straddle Neil again he was sitting up and gripping your hips, fingers digging softly into the flesh of your ass.

“Could I-, could I taste you?” he nervously asked and you smiled at his shyness before nodding. Neil stood, allowing you his place on the bed where you allowed yourself to relax. “This is my first time”

“I’ll teach you” you encouraged and he nodded, now dropping to his knees himself. You had been so worked up that when he finally dared to run a finger through your folds you were tightening around nothing. Neil took a moment to explore, really see what it all looked like, a curious thumb pressing to your clit. When he heard you take a sharp rush of air in he looked up alarmed and you just chuckled.

“That’s the sweet spot handsome” you explained and he took this information in as he continued to look. In a daring moment Neil leaned forward, tongue dragging through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit again. He was shocked to find how good you tasted, not expecting it to be like this. The moment he realized how much you liked it he dug in like it was his last meal. Savoring it and hoping to keep your taste on his tongue the rest of the night.

Neil was a fast learner. After only a few more tips and adjusting his position he had you wreathing beneath him, you fingers practically trying to rip the hair out of his head. You could feel him rutting against the side of the bed and the minute you felt your stomach begin to tighten you pushed him back, panting out heavy breaths. “I need you inside of me right now”

Neil blushed and you leaned over to dig for the one condom you had come to Welton with. You had never planned on using it and now you realized you needed to figure out how to get more. You sat up and rolled the condom on for him before moving to lay on the bed the correct way. Neil followed your lead and settled himself between your legs, dragging the tip through your folds. You moved to put your own hand down there, lining him up before nodding at him. He pushed in slowly, his length stretching you sweetly.

Neil realized no day dreaming could compare to the sight of you naked underneath him and the way your warmness enveloped him inside of you. Once he was fully inside he couldn’t stop himself from dropping his head down and sucking your nipple into his mouth. You hissed at the pleasure it gave you, realizing he had gotten more comfortable during all of this. Slowly he started to move inside you, sucking so hard at each breast you realized he was leaving them covered in hickeys. You grabbed his head, pulling it up to kiss his mouth as he begun to hit the sweet spot inside of you.

Of course he couldn’t seem to leave your breasts alone, hands finding them as he kissed like you were his and he was going to keep it that way. Soon enough he was pounding into you like his life depended on it, you prayed the other girls couldn’t hear the bed squeaking or your moans. You wished you could let out the pornagraphic sounds you were holding back to avoid getting caught.

You felt your stomach begin to tighten again and Neil could feel you clenching around him. His thrusts began to get sloppy and in a moment of courage he took his hand and behind to rub your clit just like he learned and you were milking him for all he was worth in seconds. Neil allowed himself to finish as well, practically falling on top of you as he collapsed, the euphoric feeling making him dizzy.

“I guess even though we didn’t study you at least learned something” you said, pressing small kisses into the side of his neck. Neil chuckled lightly, lifting himself up to look in your eyes.

“I hope you know this wasn’t my intention. I mean I’d thought about it but I was at least hoping to take you on a date first” it was your turn to giggle and you pulled him down to give him a quick kiss.

“I know, that’s why I let you do it” you told him and he smiled, leaning back down, and hugging you close.

“I plan on keeping you” he whispered into your skin and you smiled, a hand running through his hair, him still inside of you, and warming your heart for the first time all year.

“Baby we’re the new romantics”

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gayfandomnerd225 · 2 months

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Au where Neil doesn’t die, goes to military school, loses touch with all his friends, and becomes a doctor, specifically an oncologist (cancer doctor). He starts working at a hospital and it best friends with a diagnostic doctor. Who then gets a patient with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a last name Neil could never forget, Anderson

Should I write this?

#dead poets society #dead poets fandom #neil perry #Todd Anderson #Greg house #james wilson #house md #dead poets fanfic #dps #dps fanfiction #dps boys #dps fandom

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in-the-sweet-november-rain · 5 months

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"Carpe Diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.”

-John Keating

#by vick ☆#vick's moodboards #dead poets society #dps #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #neil perry #todd anderson

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kylacxie · 7 days

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kind of new to the dps fandom, looking for dps fans so just reblog and ill follow you. also if any of my girlies have anderperry fics their working on i’d love to check it out!

#dps #dead poets society #dead poets fanfic #dead poets society fanfiction #dead poets society fandom #todd x neil #neil x todd #neil perry #todd anderson

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pursuedbyamemoryy · 7 months

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ೃ༄ cozy 🕯️

author’s note: tysm to @hcwevergreen for fueling my ideas for this <333!!! inspo from this post. sorry it’s a bit short!

about: playing with charlie’s hair as he falls asleep <3

“you tired, baby?” you ask with a little giggle. you craned your neck to look down at your boyfriend, who was most definitely falling asleep. he was laying on your chest, his eyes fluttering closed as you gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

“no,” he mumbled. “‘m just resting my eyes.” he snuggled further into your chest, wrapping his arms around tighter around your waist.

“mhm, sure” you say sarcastically. “whatever you say, love.”

if one thing could make charlie pass out it was playing with his hair. after long days and uneventful study sessions you often found him on your lap or laying on top of you, your nails gently scratching his scalp and soothing him to sleep.

his hair was always soft, and it smelled like his woody and citrusy shampoo. he took good care of himself, and you appreciated the gentle smell.

it was the little, vulnerable moments like these that you cherished. being able to hold charlie and show him the love he deserves. to see him be so soft and feel so comfortable with you meant the world to you.

his breath was slowly growing soft and shallow, his body heavy on top of yours. you continued to play with his hair, feeling yourself steadily drift off to sleep after him.

divider creds

#pursuedbyamemory writes #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader

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adamsfeministveganpunkgf · 6 months

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When they’re secretly gay and in love with each other but one dies at the end >>>>>>>

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sallymareeq · 6 months

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Under the Willow Tree

⚠️18+ [Minors DNI]⚠️

Summary:

"He moved a hand to your face, caressing your smooth cheek, and in that moment the world disappeared." A picnic under the willow tree with your "best friend" Todd. sappy lovey romantic poetic smut ok this will def become a series

Notes:

reader can be any race and weight as long as they are not bald :) comments are highly appreciated

It had been a year since the Welton Henley Hall merge and you had been living on the new west wing of the ‘strictly girls’ boarding houses for a while. Through classes you had finally made friends with boys you found respectable. You had your little group, Neil, Knox, Poppy, Charlie, Meeks and Pitts, Cameron, you and Todd.

You and Poppy had been the first to join Mr Keatings english class and she, being the extrovert she is, immediately connected with the horniest boy in the room, Dalton. Through being dragged along on awkward dates you did get to know Charlie and thankfully also his wingman Neil. Through Neil and Charlie you were introduced to the rest of the poets.

You began forming a connection with all of them, helping Neil rehearse for his plays because you loved to watch him act, working on a radio with Meeks and Pitts, going on walks with Knox to pick flowers, and getting study tips from Cameron.

But the time you cherished the most was the time you spent reading and writing and talking with Todd. Todd, like you, had a shy exterior, you had to be introduced by friends and at first your conversations were awkward and stilted, punctuated by furtive glances and blushed cheeks but eventually you just clicked. Todd soon became your best friend and you each saw a side of each other no one else had.

Late afternoons you would read Whitman under a willow tree in a hidden patch of the forest, sometimes Todd would get up and start dancing and laughing as he read, grabbing you by the hands to spin you around until you both tumbled over. One of Todd's favorite activities though was listening to you sing. Once he found out you could, he spent a week begging you to sing him something, even a little, until you finally agreed, under the condition that you got to play with his smooth, dirty blonde hair.

You had always wondered what it felt like, it always looked so soft and clean. So one warm Saturday afternoon, sitting on a blanket under the willow, Todd slowly lay his head in your skirt as you began to sing. An old gospel song you had learnt in sunday school, years ago,

As I went down in the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the robe and crown Good Lord, show me the way.

Todds eyelashes fluttered shut as you ran your fingers back through his hair, reveling in its softness,

O brothers let's go down Let's go down, come on down Come on brothers let's go down Down in the river to pray

A soft smile crossed his rosy lips and you began to notice the light dusting of freckles against his alabaster skin.

As I went down in the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the starry crown Good Lord, show me the way.

You stopped singing as Todd sat up, twisting so you faces were inches apart, his hair was messy, his lips slightly parted and his blue eyes were clouded with love. His hands were either side of you against the tree in an almost protective position and in a slow, dream-like trance you raised your hand to feel his cheek with your thumb. His skin was soft and warm and connecting to it like this stirred something inside you. He continued to breathe, staring longingly into your eyes as you moved your fingers across to his lips, so soft and inviting, his warm breath brushing your fingers. He moved a hand to your face, caressing your smooth cheek, and in that moment the world disappeared. You saw, as if from a bird's-eye view, two young lovers under a willow tree, body’s so close they shared the same air. A boy with his blue sweater, unbuttoned collar peeking out the top and khaki pants. A girl, her hair tied with a bow, wearing the boy's oversized cable knit sweater and a small skirt. You watched for a moment, admiring how perfect they looked together until you heard, or rather felt your name whispered against your lips.

‘Y/N’ the poet breathed ‘can i’ he glanced down at your rosy lips ‘may i kiss you?’

Your lips met fully as you fell into his warmth, he tasted like sunset and home. You lifted your chin as he pulled you in, gently placing a hand on the small of your back, pressing you as close as possible. You arched into him as you deepened the kiss longing to feel more of him, your hands moving from his warm chest to his soft hair. It felt like flying, kissing Todd Anderson, so gentle and yet so firm, so sweet and so lustful, a dance in perfect time. You broke the kiss, only to catch your breath and Todd rested his forehead against yours breathing, his now glossy lips revealing a row of perfect white teeth.

‘Wow’ he sighed

‘Wow’ you looked into his adoring eyes.

And as Todd opened his mouth to speak again a sudden need rushed through your body and you kissed him passionately. He was taken aback for a moment but quickly tightened his grip on your waist, holding your body's flush, together you rose to your knees as you leaned back into his hands. Todd kissed you hungrily, in a way you couldn't expect from him, and as your tongues met you felt yourself grow increasingly aroused at the closeness.

Todd slowly began kissing down your jaw to your neck eliciting soft moans as you began to tug at the hem of his sweater. He leaned back and removed it with a cat-like grin that you had never seen before but that made you want him more than possible. You lifted your arms as he removed your (well his) sweater and began feverishly unbuttoning your tight, white tshirt. His long fingers made quick work of your shirt as he pushed it down your shoulders, still kissing you hotly. He leaned back, hands on your waist, to admire your flawless skin. He ran a light hand over your collar bone as you melted to his touch, his hand traveled down your side, carefully avoiding your breast, to your stomach where he rubbed his thumb over the skin. He looked up at you through his long lashes then down at your low cut, blue floral bra, and more importantly your soft round breasts.

He glanced up again questioningly,

‘Please Todd’ you whispered ‘Touch me’

That confirmation was all he needed to cup his large hand around one of your breasts, kneading it softly and groaning at the feeling. He moved his head down toward them and glanced up a final time before his wet mouth connected with the skin covering your sternum. Slowly he traveled down your cleavage before moving to your left breast leaving small love bites in his wake. You hummed in pleasure as he pulled away the fabric, his hot breath hitting your exposed nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, tongue circling the sensitive skin causing you to whine breathily. Once he was satisfied with the left he moved on to the right still groping the left as he did. Once he had you leaning back on your arms, squirming and moaning his name he pulled away, you whined at the loss of connection until you saw him begin to unbutton his white shirt. You sat up staring longingly as more of his pale, lightly freckled chest was revealed, his muscles were taught and clearly visible, he looked as if he was carved from stone and as he shrugged off his shirt you felt your mouth begin to water. You sat up fully, holding him by the shoulders, cheeks touching as you breathed in his scent, distinctly masculine, like freshly washed sheets or a newly opened book, it filled your chest and stomach and back as you shut your eyes and basked in it. You moved together, not kissing, but breathing, feeling the pull of each other's energy.

You ran your hands down his freckled shoulders observing the rise and fall of his muscles, down his forearms covered in light blonde hairs, to his hands, silky and veined. You brought his hand to your mouth kissing the pads of his fingers and slowly inviting his pointer and middle into your mouth, you licked and sucked sensuously as he stared at the lustful sight. Drawing back, you licked saliva from your lips and continued your exploration. As you began kissing down his chest, feeling his warm skin you caught a glimpse of his bulge, straining against the front of his pants. He lowered himself onto his elbows as you savoured the feeling of his abs on your lips, you felt his hand brush through your hair to your cheek as he lifted your face and looked lovingly into your eyes.

‘hey, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to right?’ Todd said earnestly

“Little you know” you began to quote as you sensually crawled up his body, ‘the subtle electric fire for your sake playing within me.’ you finished with a soft kiss to his lips.

‘Whitman’ He smiled

‘i fear i am in love’ you mused

‘And i quite the same’ he whispered hot against your lips ‘O to draw you to me, O to be yielded to you, coming naked to me at night,'

'And you to be yielded to me, in defiance of the world’ he spoke as if kissing, moving and breathing and teasing.

‘Your body to me is sweet, clean, loving, strong,’ you spoke kissing his jaw

‘Your eyes are more to me than poems,’ you began traveling back down his neck

‘Your lips do better than play music,’ down his hot chest

‘The lines of your cheeks, the lashes of your eyes, are eloquent to me,’ over the hills and valleys of his toned abdomen

‘This face is flavor’d fruit ready for eating.’ you unbuttoned his trousers

‘You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh,’ unzipping them slowly

‘You take of my hair, breast, hands, in return,’ kissing his hip bones

‘Our flesh, and even a part of our flesh,’you lock eyes with the sandy haired poet, light eyes now dark with lust,

‘seems more than senses and life.’ he finishes for you as you remove his trousers and boxers in one fluid motion, freeing his throbbing member.

Todd sucked in a breath, cock twitching at the sudden cold as it sprung from his boxers. You stared in awe at his glistening member, already dripping with precum, it was large, more than 6 inches, and erect. You looked up at him unsure.

‘I have never done this before’

‘Its ok’ Todd assured ‘I'll tell you what feels good and what doesn't’

And you trusted him to do so.

You leaned forward, taking the tip into your mouth as you tasted him, warm and slightly salty, but knowing it was Todds made it taste like lust. You lowered, taking as much into your mouth as you could, Todd hummed with pleasure and let out a low moan when you felt the tip hit the back of your throat.

‘Mm yes, perfect’

His praise swallowed you whole as you began acting on instinct, taking what couldn’t fit into your mouth in hand, you began to bob your head up and down, slowly hitting the back of your throat every time. Your mouth filled with saliva and precum, dripping out onto your chin. Todd lovingly used his free arm to hold back your hair as you worked. His head fell back as he continued to groan and whisper your name like a prayer. You felt him guide your head faster and you swirled your tongue slightly causing his hips to buck. This involuntary show of desire caused you to moan around his cock, sending vibration through his body, his lips came together to stifle a moan and he whispered breathlessly.

‘Fuck Y/N im getting close, should i-’

But his words were cut off by a long, drawn out ‘fuck-’ as you took his entire length into your hot, wet mouth. He gripped your hair tightly and you felt his cock twitch as hot salty liquid shot down your throat, you swallowed as much as you could, longing to be filled with his love, and as you pulled back, come and spit dripping from your chin to your breasts, he stared, open mouthed.

‘If I am to have so much, let me have more, Drunken and crazy with love, swing in its plummetless sea.’ he recited

You bashfully wiped your mouth as you sat back on your heels.

‘Oh my- that was perfect’ Todd spoke

His eyes scanned your body

‘i have never bared witness to something so breathtakingly beautiful’ he started, holding you with a loving gentleness, ‘so sweet, so lovely’ he smiled as he began to lay you down,’so kind and fulfilling’ he removed your skirt exposing your matching floral panties, now soaked, ‘and sensual’ he mouthed at your navel, ‘something i want’ he breathed pressing a kiss to your hip bone, ‘something i need’ kissing the other, he moved to face your hot core, leaving wet kisses up your thighs ‘bid away matters of the mind, and think only with your heart’ Your head falls back, mouth open wide as you arch into the feeling of Todd's wet tongue running over your panties, but before you can moan out his name he captures your lips in a wet, sensuous kiss, the friction of his tongue being replaced by his long, capable fingers. He hooks his fingers under the waist of the garment and looks to you for permission before slowly pulling them down.

‘I have never done this before either’ Todd admitted as he leaned forward to kiss you

‘I trust you Todd’ you felt him grow harder at your words.

With newfound confidence he tentatively swiped two fingers through your folds, stopping when he felt you shudder at contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves. He quickly glanced back up at you,

‘Good or bad?’ he questioned,

‘Good… really good’ you breathed as he began to circle your clit.

You stared lovingly into his face as he slowly widened his circles until he stopped at your entrance,

‘Todd’ you said softly,

‘Hm?’ he looked up at you in that Todd way, mouth slightly open, blue eyes innocently questioning, dirty blond hair parted to one side.

‘Im a virgin’ you breathed against his lips,

The thought had never crossed your mind since you came to Welton, Poppy had always talked about sex and how great Charlie was in bed but you had never met anyone you thought you could trust with your body, so open and vulnerable, until you met Todd. With him everything just felt so right, a perfect boy, a handsome man, a lover.

‘I want you to be the one’ you whispered,

He kissed you softly, much slower than before but something felt different, like he had transferred part of his soul with that kiss and just as slowly and with as much care, he pressed his warm finger into you. You both shut your eyes, enjoying the sensation, he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around his long nimble finger, growing almost unbearably hard. You moaned loudly as he curled his finger hitting a spot that sent a rush through you.

‘Please Todd- Please’ you whined biting your lip

‘Please what petal, please what?’ Todd urged, eager to please

‘Faster’ you panted.

Todd was a fast learner as he soon found a pace that had you heaving for breath and begging for more all at once, he slowed slightly but before you could complain he added a second finger, pumping them into your throbbing core.

You bit your lip as a mix of pain and pleasure rocked through your body

‘Is that o-’ you swallowed Todd's question in a kiss that neither of you could ever forget, hot and wet and sweet, your tongues working in harmony, both of you making obscene noises as you felt the knot in your stomach grow tighter.

‘Todd i need you’

‘Im here, i'm here whatever you need’ he breathed still pumping in and out of you

‘I need all of you please’ you whined needily.

‘Ok’ he removed his fingers from your warmth and smoothed your lust onto his already hardened cock.

Kneeling in front of you he teased your entrance with his tip as you gazed dreamily up at his figure, the gold afternoon sun peaking through the branches left his pale skin gleaming with sweat. He looked down at you, laying sprawled on the blanket, had it been only this morning you considered each other friends, no, you had been much more from the moment your eyes met. Love. love was the only word to describe how you felt as Todd leaned his forehead against yours and slowly, slowly pressed his way inside of you. The world disappeared inch by inch as his length filled you up, you felt no pain this time, only an all-encompassing sense of wholeness. Your thoughts, feelings, memories became one as he slowly began thrusting into you, nuzzling into your soft hair and breathing heavily. It was just the two of you, breathing and moaning as you moved closer toward a shared bliss. You sucked at his neck, nibbling on a spot behind his ear that made him let out an almost whimper. He raised the hand that wasn't supporting him to your neck, not to choke but to feel your pulse. The feeling of his strong, smooth hand at your neck sent you reeling as you whispered his name frantically.

‘yes, Todd, Please, I love you, i love you, fuck, fuck’

With every thrust he lightly kissed your face, your cheeks, nose, eyelids, running his fingers through your hair. This moment was nothing like how Poppy had described it, not hot and dirty and rough and loud and forbidden, it was warm and sweet and kind and lovely and true. A moment of connection between two fated souls, under the shade of a willow tree.

The feeling was beyond words, beyond feeling, it was poetic. The passion in his movements pushed you to the edge of what you knew to be true, staring into his deep blue eyes, you knew you were close, you both knew. His movements slowed, becoming more sloppy as you both teetered on the edge of release. Your lips connected as you felt a wave of pleasure crash over you both, the feeling so great you moaned into each other's mouths. You rode out your orgasms, panting between kisses, Todds face buried in your neck. He rolled onto his back and you snuggled into his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I would quote whitman but right now i can only think of you” he sighed

You giggled as you passed him his pants.

He redressed clumsily as you gathered your clothes and jumpers.

You sat together talking quietly as he buttoned your shirt and you fixed up his hair.

“You're so good to me Todd” you smiled as he fixed your collar.

‘Well i just love you’ he said so casually he even took himself by surprise,

‘Where ever did I find you’ you shook your head smiling contently.

You lay with your head in his lap this time, reading Whitman while he picked the surrounding wildflowers, as you put the book down Todd blushed, he had made you a flower crown. You sat up and turned so he could place it on your head.

He smiled ‘you look like a woodland nymph’

You picked a small white flower- a spring beauty- and stuck it in his still slightly messy hair.

‘You're so very pretty Todd’

As the sun grew orange in the sky you began making your way back to the courtyard, probably looking like a pair of strays, hair full of flowers and clothes a mess, holding hands and smiling blissfully.

#Smut #Fluff #Fluff and Smut #pining #friends to lovers #todd anderson #dead poets society #dead poets fanfic #todd anderson x reader #dead poets society x reader #todd x reader

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charliedaltonssaxaphone · 12 days

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A REPOST BECAUSE NEIL IS HAPPY AND WELL <33

#dead poets society #dark academia #dead poets society memes #dead poets fandom #dead poets society fandom #dps #dead poets society headcanons #dead poets society fanfiction #dead poets #dead poets fanfic #dps headcanons #dps boys #dps fandom #anderperry #robert sean leonard #light academia #poetry

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sandyemmar · 6 months

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part 3 of a few funny things me and a gay person made

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dearsnow · 8 months

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THE LAST TIME

- ten out of the countless times you have seen neil perry, and nine where you saw him alive. (neil perry x gn! implied to be shy reader, fluff to angst, canon-typical main character death, major spoilers for dps but i assume you’ve watched it before, i included my own poetry so i hope y’all like it, sad face emoji i teared up while writing this).

word count: 9,006

a/n - thank you so so much to my beta readers @sorencd and @chuudidit for reading this massive piece, i appreciate you endlessly <3 this was definitely a labor of love, one that i took a considerable amount of time to write and edit. i adore dead poets society and poetry in general (i have written 130+ poems and never plan on stopping) so i definitely needed to put my thoughts into words lol 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy, because i definitely enjoyed writing this for you.

When Neil Perry first saw you, and god, did he see you, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

You were simply sitting there under the old tree just outside the borders of Welton with a book under your nose and the soft rays of a flashlight filtering through your hair. You had one knee up, holding the book in a gentle balancing act as he stared. Charlie gave him a nudge, eyebrows raised and a tease on the tip of his tongue, but Neil couldn’t even move. He was completely and utterly dumbstruck. The moon was hanging above your head, full and bright, drowning you in a poetic haze. You flipped a page and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before, and he had no idea why.

After a long minute, he peeled his gaze away from the figure under the tree and followed the other dead poets to their second ever meeting. From the corner of his eye, he swore he saw you glance up at him when he passed, but no one else seemed to notice.

When Neil and the poets were walking back to Welton, you weren’t there- something Neil noticed instantly. Of course, being who he was, Todd noticed that Neil noticed, and Charlie noticed that Todd noticed, and before he knew it, Neil and his fixation were the new tortured topics of the evening.

“Oh, love at first sight! The most beautiful kind.” Charlie teased, clasping his hands and spinning around. “How romantic.”

Neil shook his head, trying desperately to clear his suspicions. “It’s not like that. I swear, it’s not even a crush. I just thought it was weird.”

Cameron chimed in with a slightly hushed tone. At least he was aware of the fact that they were quickly approaching the earshot of every single person in Welton Academy. “I wonder where they came from. I mean, it couldn’t have been comfortable or safe to be out here at night. Especially alone.”

“Same. What do you think they were reading?” Neil responded, quick to try and put the teasing behind him. Despite his efforts, the teasing carried long into the night and the days following it. It seemed like nothing and no one would ever let him forget he ever saw you.

He would find out later that you were reading a poetry book.

He saw you for the second time on a trip to the main town. He recognized you instantly, from what little knowledge of you he had gained. You had the same hair, the same stature, the same book tucked under your arm as you peered into the musty old bookstore in the back corner. Just Todd was with him this time, and he definitely knew what was up.

Todd glanced at him, a warm expression on his face. Once again, Neil was entranced.

In the new glorious daylight, he noticed things he never could’ve before. The undertones of your hair, your skin, the way you seemed to glow even when you dipped into the shadows. He saw the pure beauty of you in a manner he had never seen anyone else in before. He took a step forward, pulled towards you somehow as his heart beat a mile a minute. The bookstore loomed over you, cracked and imperfect, yet casting the evening in a scene plucked out of a storybook. You turned, seeming to have seen him in the window’s reflection, and he flinched. He almost had a heart attack as his brain registered the color of your eyes and exactly how your mouth pulled up into a smile. Quickly turning away, he grabbed Todd’s sleeve and hightailed it out of there. Todd followed, as he always did. Neil was enamored, and Todd could tell.

“Do you think they saw me?” Neil gasped, pulling Todd into the square’s corner. He was panting lightly, red-cheeked, with a lopsided grin on his face. Todd had never seen him nervous, much less shy. In fact, he was the opposite- friendly, inclusive, and not the type to run away from a challenge. Something must have been different about you.

Todd raised his eyebrows. “Probably, Neil, they looked back.” He, too, saw your eyes, though he was mostly focused on the anxiety coursing through his veins rather than committing them to memory.

Neil’s gasping breaths were definitely louder than they needed to be. “Oh god, they definitely saw me. They probably think I’m a creep. Jesus, it’s definitely over.”

“What’s over?” Todd put a hand on his shoulder worriedly. “There was nothing there to begin with. They’re just a person, you’ll be fine.”

“Way to kill my dreams, Todd. Look, can you promise me that you won’t tell this to anyone else?” Neil asked, suddenly very serious. He glanced around like someone would waltz into the trash-filled and truthfully disgusting corner. The bathrooms were just around the bend, and he could smell it.

Intrigued, Todd nodded.

“I need you to say it. Promise me.” Neil whispered. His coat crinkled as he moved closer to Todd, the material dipping around his sweater. The fall air was the perfect background for whatever Neil was trying to get up to.

“I promise.”

Neil grinned boyishly and glanced around the corner again. “This is stupid, but I think I’m in love.” From the look in his eyes, Todd could definitely tell. His friend was suddenly more animated than he had been in a very long while, and he knew that he would do anything to keep him that way. His caution, however, took over.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. What if you never see them again?”

“And what if I do?” Neil breathed. “What if I see them tomorrow, or the next day, or a week from now? What if I see them every day of my life because I just went out and said something?”

Todd shook his head. “Just be careful, alright? There’s a very good chance that nothing will come of it.” Neil clasped Todd’s jacket, quirking his eyebrows.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Just no.”

The first time you saw Neil Perry, you didn’t even know you saw him. You were sitting under a tree, reading an Emily Dickinson book you bought in the town’s bookstore. It was a way to relax to you. A way to forget all of your troubles and just enjoy the wonders of the world. You don’t know why you picked that tree, or why you stayed so long you had to use the flashlight you so hastily packed, but life has its ways of pulling you towards something you didn’t know existed.

The scenery was absolutely beautiful, even at night. You wrapped your thick coat tightly around your shoulders. The fall leaves beneath you gave a crackle and the moon hung high above your head, slightly illuminating your page. Welton Academy loomed just outside of your line of sight. It was beautiful, too, but something about the cold stone walls made you shiver.

As time slipped away, you began to hear a hushed cacophony of boys around your age coming out of the school to the side of you. They had their hoods up, laughing and giggling like they were in some sort of secret club. You looked up, and one of them stopped dead in his tracks. You could see his breaths clouding in the night as the others urged him forward. Your eyes drifted back down to your book, as if you were embarrassed. The moment broke, and he was on his way.

You weren’t there for his return back to Welton.

The second time you saw him, you noticed him a lot more clearly. You were window shopping just outside of the bookstore. Even though the building was dusty and marred, it smelled like home. It smelled like stories and adventures and comfort. You were a frequent visitor to this place, and one of the owner’s best customers.

He often set up his new imports in the big, yellow-tinted window in front of you. As you gazed in, you noticed a face appear in the space next to you. You turned around partially, meeting his dark brown eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him.

It was an electric moment. His lips were slightly parted, and the gray clouds above him were engorged with unshed tears. You gaped at him, dumbfounded, as milliseconds ticked away like hours.

Before you knew it, he had sped away with his friend in tow. Huh, you hadn’t even noticed he had a friend. All you could think about was the fact that he looked familiar, and the fact that he was the most handsome boy you had ever had the pleasure of locking eyes with.

His stature reminded you of the boy by the tree, the boy from Welton Academy. There was just something about him that screamed “you saw him once in a dream”.

Somehow, you thought one simple thought: you were in love with someone you did not know.

When Neil saw you for the third time, and the third time you saw him, he worked up the courage to talk to you.

Mr. Keating was instructing the boys outside yet again. They were in the courtyard, taking inspiration from the world around them. From leaves, patches of mud, anything that struck their fancy.

You were taking a walk by campus. Once again, you didn’t know why; you just were. The boys were not a quiet group, and you could hear their shouts very clearly. You strained your ears, hoping to hear one voice in particular. Of course, you didn’t know what his voice sounded like, but you were listening anyway. If you were right, and he was a boy from Welton, maybe you might be able to catch a word or two.

That’s when Neil spotted the person walking loops around the front of campus. Maybe, for the first time, you could be his inspiration.

He looked over his shoulder, quickly trying to assess whether he could slip away unnoticed or not. No one seemed to be looking at him. He left his group behind and jogged up next to you.

You saw him coming. Even from a distance, you knew it was him. Your heart began to pound in your ears, loud and fast and just a little bit lovesick. You were right.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. You took a small step back. Your nerves were on their highest setting and your mind was reeling. What did he think of you, you wondered. More importantly, who was he?

As he approached, you put on your best nervous smile. “Hi.”

“My name’s Neil.” He said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. You complied quickly, saying your own name in turn. His palms were slightly damp, but you couldn’t blame him. Yours were probably worse.

The moment your hand held his, fitting perfectly under his fingers, he knew you were made for him. “I saw you in town the other day. Do you like books?”

Your voice was hesitant, unsure, and Neil wished he could reach out and smooth the wrinkles in the sound like an old coat. “Yeah.”

“What were you reading?” Neil asked. He tried to stamp down his own nerves, but something about you made his breaths flutter in and out like butterfly wings. It was a feeling he was completely and entirely new to.

You shifted the bag on your shoulder to your hands, reaching in to pull out the book. “Oh, Poems by Emily Dickinson. It’s not the traditional type of book, but I love poetry.” Your cheeks began to warm. You knew nothing about this boy. What if he thought poetry was stupid, just a lesson in his English class and nothing else? How could anyone know how much those words meant to you?

Neil beamed, big and wide and lovesick. You truly were perfect for him, he thought. Poetry. You certainly were poetic, with those gorgeous eyes and an equally beautiful mind. “I love poetry too.” He breathed.

Your tense smile turned genuine. “You do? That’s awesome.” A quiet flutter started to pick up in your heart.

“Yeah. You know what?” He grinned, “my friends and I have a sort of poetry club. The dead poets society- we do readings, original works, whatever the members are feeling at the moment.” He sucked in a silent breath, pausing just enough to let his reeling mind decide on what he wanted to say. “It’s at night in the old Indian cave.” You nodded along to his words, growing increasingly intrigued the further he carried on. This dead poets society began to excite you. It was all you ever wanted in life: a community of like-minded people sharing the verses that made your heart tick. “If you want, I mean, you should go to our next meeting. It’s tonight.” Neil offered. He could tell his words were cycling through your mind, finally catching up to his proposal.

You wanted to join the dead poets society so badly it made your heart ache. A little inkling, though, in the back of your head, sparked a pit in your stomach. “Would your friends be okay with me being there? I… I don’t exactly know them.”

Neil was head over heels. You were so wonderfully lively, in the way that a breeze touching his eyelashes with the tips of its fingers would be. You were exactly how he expected, and exactly who he needed.

He waved away your concern with the flip of a hand and a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. The others bring guests too, and gosh, I’m sure they’re going to love you! Especially Todd. I’m sure you two would get along real well.”

“Then I’ll definitely be there.” You replied. The sparkle in your eye shot Neil at full force. You were excited, smiling, happy. He made you happy. He mentally patted himself on the back.

“Great!” Leaves rustled from behind Neil, and you could see a group of boys approaching in the near distance. “Shoot. I gotta go, but make sure to show up. I’ll be waiting for you.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you before turning around to walk towards the group. You felt cold air where he had once been, and you wished for a moment that he would come back. His friends, however, were hooting and hollering, and you thought you could hear a kissy noise or two. You shook your head, a shaky warmth creeping its way up your neck, before turning to walk away.

You were going to go to a secret meeting in a secret cave at a hauntingly secret hour, and you had never been quite so excited in your entire life.

The fourth time you saw each other was the dead poets society meeting. You were brimming with nerves beforehand, shaking fingers gathering your materials as you tried to prepare for waltzing into a place with people entirely unknown to you. The bag you were holding contained a couple of your favorite poetry books, your own poems scratched in the empty spaces on certain pages that really inspired you. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to read a poem out loud, especially your own work, but earlier in the evening, you resolved to “go with the flow” and do what the others were doing. You hoped you wouldn’t have to regret that decision later.

After putting everything together and making sure to turn off your light and close your door, you slipped out of your house into the black night.

The scenery on your walk was entirely too beautiful. You never noticed just how much the bark on trees formed swirling patterns, or how the stars seemed to twinkle on their own. The ground under your feet was littered with fallen leaves in fiery shades and clumps of moist dirt. You began to smile just a little bit, thinking of a poem you had written when autumn had first started. That is surely what you would say if the dead poets wanted you to speak.

Nothing felt greater than breathing in the crisp, cold air and swinging your arms as you stepped along the path less traveled on.

When you finally reached the cave, heart significantly lighter, the sound of laughter floated up to your ears. It was bountiful and boyish and beautiful. You peered around the edge of the cave entrance, and Neil’s eye immediately caught on you.

“Come in, come in! We’re just about to begin.” He called. You stepped fully into the light and glanced around at your company.

They were giggling and shoving, gaping at you and Neil with a sort of uncertain certainty. Some were standing, some sitting, a couple moving around, and all of them male. You took a seat next to Neil, between him and the boy you saw with him in town. He gave you a meaningful nod and looked to Neil, who was opening an old, thick book. He was frightened to so much as speak in front of you, as silly as it might have seemed.

“Attention, dead poets. Today is another wonderful night.” He announced, voice deep and commanding and humorously theatrical. “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not life… And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…” His voice trailed off, and someone from the back of the cave echoed his last word. He closed the book with a snap, and the boys began to murmur excitedly.

Neil took a seat and turned to you, a glimmer of something sweet in his eye. When he looked at you, all he saw was magnificence. “Who wants to start?”

A boy jumped up. In his fist was a crumpled piece of paper, which he made a show of unfolding. “For those of you who don’t know,” He said, with a pointed glance at you, “my name is Nuwanda, and today, I actually made a poem.”

A couple boys yelled in support, and Neil gave you a nudge. “Charlie Dalton.” He whispered, making sure to not alert the others. You thanked him with a shy nod. Then, as “Nuwanda” was starting to begin his woefully homemade poem, Neil put his arm around your shoulders.

His touch sent jitters through your entire body, lighting you up like a firework. It just felt so right, so natural, so breathtaking. It felt exactly like shaking his hand and feeling his eyes and seeing his breath hang in the air- like it was destined, written in the stars, utterly perfect. You leaned into his touch, feeling his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and shoulder. “To live, to learn, to die,

my boys,

to see, to love, to burn.

To touch, to know, to harm,

my dear,

to eat, to reap, to sow.”

Charlie recited. For someone who seemingly took poetry lightly, he wasn’t particularly bad. He put more passion into his words than most other boys you knew. In fact, you’re sure he would be a great writer if he put more than an ounce of effort into it.

He took a bow as the room erupted into applause, Neil’s arm still wrapped around you. He could feel it too, the electricity. He wanted nothing more than to bottle that feeling and keep it forever.

Charlie sat, staring at you and Neil with a smirk on the corners of his lips. “Hey, why don’t we let our guest take a crack at it?”

The cave filled with a rumble of excitement from all of the poets. Neil’s brows were furrowed, but he gave an urge of support anyway. “If you want to, of course.”

You wanted to. Energy thrummed throughout your company, filling you with a sense of confidence you rarely had anywhere else. For once, you truly wanted to speak up. The air was crackling with a sense of anxious anticipation, and you could smell the love each boy held for each other. They knew, somehow, that the moment meant a lot to Neil, and they were willing to put aside any inhibitions to help him enjoy the night.

“I’ll go.” You uttered. Neil’s face lit up as his previous worries slunk away into the night.

You pulled out a book from your usual bag and opened it to the page you knew so well you could recite the poem it held without looking. And, of course, your own poem was scribbled in the margins.

Everyone was attempting to peer over your shoulder, to take a glimpse of what made you a poet. Having attention on you was an odd feeling, like ants crawling along the back of your spine. You took a deep breath. “When you die,

the beetles will still sing.

The trout will still jump,

and the earth will still rumble.

When you die, the moon will still turn

and the stars will still burn.

When you die,

The lakes will still ripple

and the trees will still creak

and I will lower you into the ground

and I will cry so hard the world stops moving.”

As the last words left your lips, a profound silence enveloped the group. Then, all at once, it exploded.

“We’ve got a real poet in here!” Came Charlie’s teasing (yet not entirely unkind) voice. “Truly Keating material. What sparked your creative melancholy?”

You felt yourself glowing as you sat. If you were being honest, you never could have imagined that anyone would genuinely enjoy your work. That notion was entirely unfounded and untrue, considering they were a group of poets, but it persisted nonetheless. “I don’t know, really. Just the notion of losing a loved one, I suppose.”

When Neil saw you, in that moment, when he heard your voice, he couldn’t breathe. He knew so little about you, yet you pumped his pulse up to be as fast as a racehorse. He wanted, no, he needed to learn everything that made you you. He needed to know what you looked like when waking up in the morning, or how your fingers felt threading through his hair, or your deepest, most desperate passions. He needed to be so close to you he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric of your shirt. He was intrigued.

When he first discovered acting, he felt the same exact way- a burning desire to learn, to know, to discover. If you let him, he would recite his lines all the way into your heart.

The meeting continued as the sky grew ever darker, complete with poems and rhymes and words spoken in deliberately lyrical tones. You fell into every verse and every story as easily as you would if they were written in a book. You began to learn every name in the room, and they quickly caught on to yours. It was a community, a group of people that began to feel like home.

Of course, by the time they decided to end things, the stars were full and bright. The sun would surely peek its head out of the fog in a couple hours. You were smiling harder and more genuinely than you ever had before, with Neil by your side, and Todd on your other. As they all stood up to leave with boisterous whispers, Neil turned to you.

“Will you come tomorrow? And the next, and every day after that?” His question was so excited, so innocent, like he didn’t know that you would kill for the chance to be near him and everything he held dear.

You smiled. “Of course. I’ll be a dead poet for life.”

Your eighth encounter with Neil was not a lucky twist of fate. He got permission to leave school for some something or other that you never bothered to find out. Now, it was just you two and the big town square looming in front of you.

In truth, it wasn’t that big, but when you’re standing at the beginning of a new day with the boy that holds your heart, everything feels intense.

He took hold of the sleeve of your sweater, as he so often did, and you descended upon the shops.

“Come on, you’ve absolutely got to try the milkshakes at Tom’s Ice Cream Parlor! They’re just the best. Hurry, hurry!” He tugged you along, a bright smile on his face. God, how you loved him.

You had grown closer in the past five dead poets society meetings. Often, he would stay with you in the cave long after the meetings had ended. You would talk about whatever crossed your mind in the moment, and he would spin stories out of thin air. He didn’t ever seem to talk about real life things, though. His work at school, sure, but anything outside of that was uncharted territory. When you asked him about his family, he just clammed up.

You laughed as he weaved through the clumps of people with you in tow. “Slow down, Neil! You’re gonna get us killed.”

The sound of your voice, especially your laugh, was something Neil had come to relish. He would keep you talking all day if it meant he could hear that giddy ring in his ears every time he craved your presence. “You’ve just got to go faster. The line is horrific at this time of day.”

“This place had better be good.”

“It is, believe me. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

When you arrived, bodies hot and just a little uncomfortably sweaty, the sight of the ice cream parlor was a welcome one. He led you through the doors and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. You wished you could do it for him. The line was, unsurprisingly, quite long. You made idle chat, but his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at him.

“…he was real impressed when Charlie played his sax. Mr. Nolan, though, he definitely wasn’t-“ And, before you could think about it, before the screaming in your head could tell you no, you reached up and smoothed the cowlick that always seemed to mess up his part. When you pulled your hand away, he was beaming.

“Thanks.” He said, simply. You smiled back at him.

“No problem. So, what happened to Charlie afterwards?” You questioned. Neil gave you a look, one you had come to realize meant “I’ll tell you later”.

As you stood three people away from the front counter, Neil fumbled around in his pockets. “Shoot, I could’ve sworn I brought more money than this…” He muttered. He pulled out a dime and three pennies, all slightly covered in the fuzz from his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, I must’ve spaced out- I’m usually so good about things like this.”

You took his arm with one hand and slipped the other in your pocket, rooting around for any spare change you had. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I have more than enough.”

You did not, in fact, have more than enough. You had a single quarter and a spare button. Pooled together, you could get exactly one milkshake and have his three pennies left over. Neil looked at you regretfully.

“You take it. I’ll get one another time.” He said, putting on a smile. “I’ve had too many sweet things today anyways.”

You would not accept this as an answer. Not here, not now. He deserved all the good things life had to offer, and you would be damned if he didn’t get them- starting with this milkshake. “It’s alright, you have it.”

Neil looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “You should have it, really.” He would be damned if you didn’t get what he dragged you out here to experience. If he could see your face, smiling and sticky-lipped, after taking a sip from something he contributed to, he would be the happiest man on earth.

The back-and-forth was getting nowhere and you both knew it. “Why don’t we just share it then? Ask for two straws?” You sighed. “It’s the best solution.”

He paused. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to give you (if this was any indicator), but it would work. Everything would work as long as you were there. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”

There was another quick conversation about which flavor to choose, but you settled on one that you both liked equal amounts. You discovered that he had far different tastes than you milkshake-wise. If you were any less filtered, you would’ve told him his opinions were downright wrong.

You sat with him, smiling so hard you thought your face would break as he finally told you what happened to Charlie. Apparently, Nolan had reprimanded him as he so often had to do, but Charlie couldn’t stop smiling during the lecture. Eventually, Nolan just stopped mid-sentence and ushered the boy out the door. Apparently nothing and no one could ever crush Charlie’s spirit, not even the hardships of wooden rulers.

You leaned in to take a sip absentmindedly. As you reached your straw, you felt the tip of Neil’s nose brush against yours, and you realized you were so close to him you were almost kissing. You pulled back quickly, a hotness enveloping your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You uttered, trying not to look him in the eye. You were so mortified you almost killed yourself on the spot.

Neil, however, was overjoyed. He felt your breath on his chin and it was all he could think about. You, close to him, like you would’ve touched him if you hadn’t pulled away. He relished the feeling.

He shrugged, trying in vain to make it seem like he was just simply all right with it. “It wasn’t a problem,” He said, before noticing that the milkshake was running dangerously low. “Hey, why don’t you take the last sip?”

You cocked your head slightly. “Why?”

“Because I never want to be the one to end it.” He grinned. You shook your head, the corners of your lips rising up as he let out a little laugh. You adored his laugh.

“If you say so.”

That conversation stuck with you a long time after it happened.

It took four more dead poets meetings for Neil to ask you to go somewhere with him again. By the twelfth experience, though, you knew him like the back of your hand.

He loved acting. Loved it. He loved it so desperately that he was willing to face the wrath of his father to pursue the play he was casted in. Oh, and you learned about his father through whispers, mostly from Charlie. Neil, he told you, would never say a word about him. Tyrannical, inhospitable, red-hot like fire and ice-cold like ice. You knew of his mother, too, and her quiet indifference. Neil held a special place in his heart for Todd, the new boy at Welton. He loved puppies and poetry and soft scarves. Not the scratchy ones, as those irritated his neck. He wanted to be an actor in the future, but his father wanted him to be a doctor. He loved so many things, and yet could not have them; however, he definitely hated when people felt sorry for him.

So, you weren’t sorry. You felt his desires like a burning in your gut, stripped away piece by piece, but you were not sorry. You loved him.

You needed him to be fulfilled in every way possible, and you were not sorry. He was going through so many conflicting things, and you were not sorry. You were hopeful.

Life would turn around, you told him. He would see. In ten years, he would be on Broadway, waving at you and Todd and Charlie from the stage. He would be great, and you knew it.

“I’ve never skated like this before. Are you sure it’s safe?” You asked, standing at the edge of Welton’s lake. It was late in fall, with powdery snow dusting the edges of the ground, but the lake may have been in the process of freezing still. Neil took your gloved hands.

“Trust me, it’s good.”

He often asked you to trust him, and you always did. There was just something in his deep, dark eyes that whispered exactly how strong he was.

You took a tentative step onto the ice, nose already feeling the cold burn of pre-winter air. The ground under your feet was slick, but it held. Neil walked backwards, gently guiding you, and you followed.

You found a sort of rhythm in the movements, pushing off with your feet and letting them slide forward on the ice. Neil’s face was tinged with red as you skated on flat shoes, never letting go of your hands. You laughed, truly and honestly. The world spun around you in a blur, white and brown and beautiful. The air snuck through the gaps on your clothes, but you did not care. In that second, it was just you and Neil and the most beautiful day you had ever known.

His eyes softened when he looked at you. Even through the lack of words, he knew exactly what you were thinking. That crinkle by your eyes, the curve of your lips, your laugh. You were content, happy even, because he brought you here. When you reached the middle of the lake, leaning against him, trusting him, he felt a fluttering in his stomach.

Throughout his days with you, he had come to discover the person behind the book, behind the shy smile. He could firmly say that he knew you, and he loved you even more for it.

He knew your favorite book, which jokes made you laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes, your favorite ice cream flavor. It wasn’t his, but it was completely and entirely you. There was nothing he adored more in the world than you.

You stared at him with a smile gracing your lips as you came to a stop. He reached his hand up to your face and brushed a small snowflake away from the corner of your mouth gently. His hands were soft.

He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his face. It was now or never, he thought. Carpe diem.

Neil pressed his lips to yours, and all of your feelings exploded from your connected flesh like dynamite.

He was warm, so warm. You kissed him fervently with your arms wrapped around his shoulders like you were dancing. He had finally done it, put to action the kind thoughts he had expressed, and you were glowing. There were stars in your tightly shut eyes, and you reveled in how they spun.

Neil’s mind was racing as you didn’t pull away. He didn’t know what he expected, but you pulling him closer was not his first thought. He most definitely didn’t mind.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both panting feverishly and looking starved for more. Your combined breaths hung in front of your faces.

“We should do that again.” He whispered. You huffed a laugh, feeling every bit as blushy as he looked.

“Only if you’re okay with never stopping.”

It was a week and a half before Neil’s big play, and the twenty-fourth (maybe twenty-fifth, you had lost count) time you saw him. It was also your tenth official date.

“Date” may have been a loose term, as it was more practicing lines than talking, but the atmosphere was quiet and calm at the café you sat in. There were grainy pictures of favorite customers on the wall and the chairs were just the right amount of wobbly. It felt like a place where you could relax without abandon. Neil’s hand was on top of yours and he was staring deep into your eyes as he spoke line after line, trying to steel his nerves and push past the stress of his approaching deadline.

“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck…” He hesitated for a moment, eyes unfocused. You squeezed his hand in support and he gave you a small smile. Clearing his throat, he continued. “…now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.”

You gave a quiet cheer and clasped your hands together. “I think that was your best runthrough yet! I’m so proud of you.”

His eyes lit up as he gazed at you bashfully. “You think?”

“Absolutely. You’re good, you’re really good. You could probably perform tomorrow if you wanted to.” He smiled and ran his fingers over his fleece sleeves as you spoke. If you were in the audience, he was sure he would be able to do anything. “In fact, you could perform any time you wanted to. You’re just that amazing.”

You were so impressed by the sheer amount of talent and emotion he had that you just couldn’t help but smother him in compliments. Every single one was true.

Neil tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, blushing like a madman. Every time you said something kind about him, his heart leapt for joy. “What about you? What have you been working on?” He posed. He had heard your poetry before, of course, but you always seemed to be creating something new.

You pulled out a book from the bag sitting next to you and flipped around. There was one specific poem you wanted him to hear. One you had written about him.

When you found it, you turned the book sideways so you both could see and pointed at it. “This one.” Neil tilted his head, opening his mouth to read it aloud. “I think,

if I was blind,

I would still know your face.

The curve of your nose would call to me

and your eyelids would flutter under my touch.

There is no one else, no one at all

who could make the pads of my fingers

see the entire world.”

He gazed up at you with a starstruck expression. “Is this about anyone in particular?” Neil leaned forward and dipped his head down to rest on his propped-up hand. He had a grin on his face. He absolutely knew who it was about.

“I wrote that one for Meeks. He’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You teased. Neil’s mouth dropped open as his expression turned to comical shock.

“I’m wounded, my love! How dare you.” He shouted, throwing his arms up. You started laughing as he continued his theatrical expressions, much to the dismay of the café workers.

“Be careful, we might get thrown out!”

“I’ll throw you out myself if you don’t stop laughing at my demise.” He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose as you giggled from your seat. “I’m so lucky to have you.” He murmured, suddenly as soft as a spring rain. You ran your fingers over his hand underneath the table, finding every groove like it was your own.

“And I’m lucky to have you. I love you, you know.”

Neil smiled gently. “I love you too. So much.”

You sat in that café for a few hours more, until the workers had to politely remind you of their closing hours. You laughed and talked and felt the sheer joy of being with the boy you had begun to consider your soulmate. He was a star, shining his light and illuminating you with his rays. Too often, however, the brightest lights fade within the snap of a finger.

“I hope that when I die,” Neil wrote, right before your thirty-first meeting,

“God will send me back to Earth.

He will say,

‘Live again. Run again,

hope again,

plunge your body into ice-cold water again.

Hate again,

and cry again,

run your fingers through the grass again.

Kiss them again,

press your palms to their faces again,

and lose them again.

Let yourself feel again,

and never forget

that life is what matters,

not death.’

And I will say,

‘I promise

to do everything I have ever told myself I could not do

again and again and again.’”

He closed his journal with a thump and tucked it into his drawer calmly. That was something he would rather not share with anyone, not even you.

The day was cold and drizzly, but he stood up with a kind of manic smile. He walked out of the doors of Welton and into your awaiting arms.

You both sat down on a park bench under the cover of a tree. Your seats were slightly wet and very cold, but it didn’t matter all that much. You were just glad to be there with him, with Neil. He was the love of your life, and any time with him was well-spent.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. He was the same as he always was, you thought. But his eyes were welling up with tears and you just felt the need to ask, like some unearthly force was telling you that you needed to.

He leaned back, putting his arm around the back of the bench with a sigh. “I’m trapped.” He was smiling, but there was such an utter lack of humor behind it that it made you shiver. You shifted closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as a silent sign of comfort. By this point, knew everything there was to know about Neil Perry- even the parts he tried to keep hidden.

“How so?”

“I don’t even know, I just… I want to be an actor. That is what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I can’t, and I’m trapped, and no one can help me, no matter how much they try.” His voice was sullen, but he was still smiling. Curse him for trying to make you feel better even then.

You placed a kiss on the back of his hand and threaded your fingers through his. Your heart ached for him. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, though, and that’s what made it even harder. Holding his hand, telling him it’ll all work out, everything ultimately did nothing for his situation, and you cursed the being that forced him into this position. If you could scream into the night, into the big, black sky to execrate the universe, you would. You did, in the future. You regretted not doing it sooner.

“I’m sorry.” You started, squeezing his hand. “ Just keep going, alright? I promise you, in the future, none of this will matter at all. You just have to stick with it. The world will find a way of figuring it out.”

His face formed a more genuine smile as he laid his head on top of yours. “Yeah. I guess it will.”

The last time Neil Perry saw you was the night he had been anticipating, dreaming about, and dreading: the night of his play. He was prepared. He knew every line and cue by heart, and yet he was still nervous. He was so nervous he could hardly think.

He stood behind the curtains listening to the chatter of the audience. The rest of the cast members and some of the technicians were scrambling to put everything in place, but he just stared at the dark walls of fabric separating him from his new life. That was it. He was going to put on the best performance of his goddamn life.

The lights dimmed, and he stepped away to take his place.

When it was finally time for him to make his entrance, Neil did it with flourish. “How now, spirit! whither wander you?” He spoke. Cheers came from the audience, whoops and hollers from the dead poets. He could hardly keep himself from smiling.

Then, he saw you. You were grinning wide and large from your seat, giving him that quiet encouragement he had always loved. You whispered his name, and Neil could hear it in his heart.

He was having fun. So much fun. With every line he spoke, with every movement he made, Neil was sinking deeper and deeper into the play and his love for acting. He didn’t remember the last time he had ever felt that alive.

But with every sinking, there comes a point where one drowns.

His father was there. When had he come? Neil hadn’t seen him before. God. He was burning a hole in the back of his head with his piercing gaze, and it took everything in Neil not to turn and run. That was it, he thought. He was done. But gods be good, he was going to finish his play. He would not let his father ruin this for him.

By the time he was speaking his last lines, the ones he had practiced with you, he barely remembered his father was part of the audience. The curtains closed, and the audience exploded into cheers. He could hear your voice, he swore he could- he was the happiest man on Earth. He had put on the performance of his lifetime, and he couldn’t be more proud. Until, of course, he was dragged out the door by his father.

He was back home before he had even registered his father’s anger. All he could feel was emptiness as the gnawing hole in his stomach expanded to encompass his entire being.

“We're trying very hard to understand why it is that you insist on defying us. Whatever the reason, we're not gonna let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I'm withdrawing you from Welton and enrolling you in Braden Military School. You're going to Harvard and you're gonna be a doctor.” His father stated, eyes sharp. Neil let out a noise of protest.

“But that's ten more years. Father, that's a lifetime! I won’t be able to see any of them again, not one person I knew before. You can’t do this to me, you just can’t.” Tears formed in Neil’s eyes, and as he looked at his mother, she was feeling the same way. And yet she said nothing. He could feel himself becoming increasingly more desperate.

His father scoffed. “Oh, stop it. Don't be so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term. You don't understand, Neil. You have opportunities that I never even dreamt of and I am not going to let you waste them.”

Neil rose to his feet, suddenly angry. He needed to fight for this, for himself. He couldn’t just let one man take away everything he had ever loved. If he couldn’t see you, his friends, if he couldn’t act, there was no purpose in his life. “I've got to tell you what I feel.”

Neil’s mother reached for him. “We’ve been so worried about-“

“What? What? Tell me what you feel. What is it? Is it more of this, this acting business? Because you can forget that. What?” And just like that, it was gone. Neil sat back down, staring blankly at his lap. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything because he was just a stupid boy who wouldn’t listen. His father scoffed once again before leaving the room.

His mother, ever the soft one, paused.

“I was good. I was really good.” He whispered. She sighed, urging him to his feet.

“Go on, get some sleep.”

Neil nodded, still in a trance, before trudging to his room. That was it. He was done. He would never see you again, no matter what, and it hurt him so badly he didn’t know what else to do. He ran his fingers over his things lightly before removing his shirt. That was it. He grasped his crown of twigs and placed it on his head, staring out through his open window. The cool air kissed his body sweetly, like your lips on a rainy day. He took a deep breath.

It was time for his last act, his curtain call, his final carpe diem. There was no warning, and yet there did not need to be one. That night, that cold, bitter night, he knew what he needed to do.

The last time you saw Neil Perry, he didn’t see you. He couldn’t see you. It was December 18th, and you had been asked to read a poem at his funeral.

God, the word “funeral” hit you like a train. Neil was dead. His sweet demeanor, his gentle words, his soft hair, they were all going to be covered in dirt within the next few hours. You couldn’t stand it. The world needed so much more of him, but terribly, horribly, the world did not deserve it. No one deserved him.

It was odd, you thought, how the sound of one gunshot could replay over and over again in your mind without you ever having heard it at all. The boom, the thud, the scream. It was all so clear in your mind.

As the priest spoke, you felt an emptiness pool in your guts. He was really gone. Your Neil, your poor Neil. You sat between Charlie and Todd, all three of your faces streaked with tears. You could feel more welling up in your eyes, and you let them free without a care. Neil was dead, and nothing else in the world mattered.

In a way, you couldn’t believe it. He was just here, warm and happy and yours. When you got that phone call, you almost joined him. Nothing was worth it anymore, nothing at all. The eulogies, the sobs, they faded into the background as you stared down at the ground.

Before you knew what was happening, you were standing at a podium with a piece of paper clutched between your shaking fingers. Neil’s mom looked up at you in silent support.

You took a breath, so much like the breaths you always took before reading a poem and yet so different. Neil could not hear this one.

“When you died,

the beetles still sang.

The trout still jumped,

and the earth still rumbled.

When you died, the moon still turned

and the stars still burned.

When you died,” Your voice cracked. Looking out into the audience, at people you didn’t know and people you knew so well you could identify them by a strand of their hair, it was too much. Hot tears slipped their way down your face as the pit in your stomach grew ever-wider.

“The lakes still rippled

and the trees still creaked

and I lowered you into the ground

and I cried so hard the world stopped moving.”

There was a murmur throughout the audience, choked sobs and utters of agreement. “For Neil, who lived as he died and died as he lived.” You rasped.

You were quickly ushered away from the podium and back into your seat.

Neil was one in a million. There was no one else in the history of ever that could make you feel so amazing. Like you were a real person, like you mattered. He made everyone feel that way, but something in him burned for you in a way that you believed was unique. And, of course, you burned for him the same.

The rest of the service went by in a blur. Everyone around you began to get up, and you knew it was time. As you sat there, still as a rock, when everyone went to say their final farewells, you were extinguished.

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. When you looked up from your tear-soaked lap, Todd was there, and he clasped your hand. “Let’s go.” He whispered. “Let’s say goodbye.”

You pulled a page from the book by your feet and shoved it into your pocket. It was for him, it always was and it always had been.

“In some other universe, I found you again.

Maybe in this one we held hands, gently and honestly,

or leaned against each other’s shoulders on the train,

or sobbed against each other’s shirts when we crashed and burned,

because anything with you

means flying too close to the sun.” It read.

As you stood in front of his casket, you could hardly bear to focus on his pale face.

He was cold, so cold. The embalmer had done well with his head, but there was so much that just looked off. He didn’t look like your Neil. He looked empty. You gripped his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. It was winter, and he was colder and paler than the snow.

You held him far longer than what was deemed socially acceptable before tucking the page into his lapel and swiftly walking away.

You weren’t there for his burial, and you knew you couldn’t be. It was just too much. If you had seen his casket close, if you had watched them shovel dirt on top of the wooden box, you would’ve dropped to your knees and screamed. Much like you’re doing now.

You sat on that same old park bench, knees clutched up to your soaked chest, sobbing harder than you ever had before. Your Neil was gone and you could never see him again, not ever.

When you saw Neil Perry for the last time, and god, did you see him, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

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