#Dead Poets Society fanfic

[jakegyllenbaalz]

dead poets society, dir peter weir (1989)

[sustiawan-author]

I find it FUNNY how the boys in Dead Poets Society presumably (and so have been depicted) have not seen or interacted with the opposite sex properly before that the mere thought of talking to one gets them gaping and closing their mouths like a bunch of goldfishes.

Like hello?? Pull yourselves together

[perksofbeingpoet]

and how lucky is todd, how lucky to have found a home in other people's hearts.

knox comes in without knocking, two t-shirts thrown over one of his arms like a waiter in a posh restaurant, the seams soft and worn. "you said you like this colour", he smiles, sitting down on todd's bed because it's no big deal, because he's comfortable enough, "and i think we have the same size."

they're sitting over a trig assignment, the tips of their hair brushing as they lean in close over the paper. meeks is frowning, exhaustion and frustration pulling at his eyebrows. "maybe it's- it-", todd starts, but the words clump in his throat and he's not that good at maths anyway. meeks smiles, a reassuring warmth in his eyes like dawn fog in summer. "no, go on."

charlie is laughing, laughing in a very big way because that's the only sort of laughter he's capable of - clutching his sides and doubling over, blindly grabbing at a street lamp for support. "you know", he says finally, wiping his eyes, his words slurred from drunken laughter, "you're way funnier than you give yourself credit for."

cameron drags his shirt over his head, already running, and todd is trying to catch up. warm, peagreen grass tickles his feet as he races down the short stretch of hill, throwing his shirt on top of cameron's which is already crumpled up by the peer. cameron yells "first!" and sputters lake water when todd jumps in after him, laughing, wet-haired.

"c'mon, one more sip." todd shuts his eyes and shakes his head, his exasperated chuckle doing nothing to hide the heat in his cheeks. "this is silly, you don't have to do this." pitts rolls his eyes and waves the spoon like a weapon until todd nods and lets pitts feed him another sip. "if this is the only way we'll get some food into you when you're sick, i'm ready to commit. now come on, there's still half a bowl of soup left."

[ash5monster01]

Would you be okay writing a submissive Charlie smut? You can make him a bit bratty though, that would make sense lol. Thanks so much if you do. ❤️

a/n: I technically had this half written in my notes already so please enjoy the absurd horny thoughts that have been hiding in my drafts for months. at least I finally finished it <3

Not So Cocky Now

Pairing: older!Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, MA, smut, oral (male receiving), heavy teasing, mature descriptions, language, praise, edging, no plot, established relationship

Summary: Charlie Dalton always had a big ego but you learn pretty quickly how easily he can fold in the bedroom.

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

“You’re intoxicating” Charlie mutters against your lips, knee nudging between your own as he presses you firmly against the back of his door. When he had taken you to dinner tonight the last thing he expected was bringing you back here, but now that he had you he had no plans on letting you leave.

“I’d like to argue that it’s you, who’s intoxicating” he pants, kissing you feverishly back. You smiled against his lips, kissing him back just as hungry. Charlie was growing addicted to your voice, your lips, your touch. He pulls you in close, keeping you both firmly pressed against the door because suddenly he had all the time in the world for you.

You relaxed into the kiss, completely giving yourself to him as he basked in the feeling of his body against yours. He could have you any way he wanted, even against this door. He can feel his heart beat racing as he kisses you. Every time he did it took over his mind and his body began to crave you more and more. You were addictive like a drug that he just couldn’t get enough of. Now that he had a taste he was never going to stop.

You lift up your hands to run your fingers through his hair, tugging softly just as your tongue begins to explore his mouth. You whimper softly when his calloused hand drags down your side, hooking under your knee, and lifting to lock your one leg around his waist. When he’s settled against you, you can’t help the soft moan that escapes into his own mouth. He can’t stop himself from rolling his hips against you and the notion dragged a moan out of him that matched your own.

You clench around nothing as he continues to roll his hips into your own and his mouth begins to trail down your neck. He’s practically out of breath, heart racing furiously as he anticipates what could happen next. “I’ll never get enough of you,” he mutters softly against your neck, hands gripping tightly at your waist.

“Better indulge yourself then” you say with a grin and he smiles before leaving a teasing kiss just below your jawline. He wanted to cover your neck in hickey’s, mark your skin, make you his own. When he starts to suck a particular spot on your neck you find yourself reaching forward and slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. When you get it pushed off his shoulders Charlie’s hand suddenly lands on your breast, kneading softly over the fabric. The feeling brings you to meet your hips against his own.

With his shirt now gone you begin to lift your own, smiling as Charlie watches you with a deep gulp, revealing all that bare skin. When your hands finally unclasp your bra, you’re pretty sure Charlie’s reached euphoria watching it slide slowly down your arms. He was much like a starving man as he eyed your now bare chest. He let out a shuddering breath before trailing his hands across the soft skin there, caressing you gently. Slowly he leans down, kissing the top of your breast and you can’t help the gasp that falls from your lips.

Charlie doesn’t need anymore confirmation as he begins to suck your breast softly into his mouth, tongue tracing the outline of your nipple as he provided attention to both. He couldn’t stop himself from leaving a trail of bruises across your chest, marking his territory as he claimed it as his own. As your head tipped back against the wall you felt the boys fingers tuck into the waist line of your skirt, slowly nudging the fabric down your legs. He was desperate to taste you, slowly moving to his knees in front of you.

He looked up at you with his intense dark eyes just to watch your own expression and how breathless he had made you. He had only just barely tasted you and now he was determined for more. Yet your hands on his shoulders stop him from going any lower, the smile on your face devious. It actually makes him nervous, anticipating your neck move when he was already so wrecked for you. Straining against his pants and begging to be released.

“Me first,” is all you say, lifting him to stand up straight and guiding him towards the bed. It’s the first time he’s never been in control and yet he lets you move him anyway. A small grunt leaving his lips as you shove him down onto the bed and start with the buckle on his pants. His eyebrows raise as you eye the visible tent in his pants.

“This exactly how you want me boss?” he asks, a sarcastic tone laced with his voice and you smirk, hand cupping his length over the fabric and watching how he shudders just from the slight sensation.

“Yeah, laid out and nice and pretty for me” he blushes at the words, not expecting them or your sudden dominant attitude. It makes him twitch against your palm and your smirk somehow widens. Slowly you lean down to kiss him as you unbutton and unzip his pants, only breaking away to guide them down his legs. You waste no time by removing his boxers with them, eyes shamelessly staring at his hardened length. Standing proud and tall, grazing across his abdomen all angry and red. It almost had to be painful how badly he wanted you.

Charlie can’t help but stare at you, his eyes darkened with desire as he watches through half-lidded eyes. His breathing is already becoming shallow, and his heart is beginning to race. A few spots of red spread across his pale skin as he waits for your touch, watching with anticipation. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever been as desperate as he is now. What was even worse was how easily he had caved to you, no longer in control and needy for your touch.

Slowly you drop to your knees, hands landing on his bare thighs, caressing them slowly and mouth watering at the sight of him. His hips involuntarily buck and it makes you smirk, realizing he was puddy in your hands. He needed you and you planned to hold out, tease him as long as you could get away with before the poor boy burst. His body is already straining with need for your touch. Even though he so desperately wanted to take control, he couldn’t seem to find himself moving. He couldn’t help but let out a moan, his head lolling back onto the mattress as he bucked his hips up once again.

“So pretty” you muse, admiring the sight of him begging to be touched. Beads of pre-cum roll down his tip and you hold back despite how your mouth waters.

Your words make his breath hitch in his throat, and more of his skin begin to flush. Noticing the way you were admiring him already made his mind fuzzy. He can’t help but whine and buck his hips again slightly, desperate for any form of touch from you. He never thought he’d end up like this, squirming and needy for once. Every other experience he had before it was the other way around. Had the once great and mighty Charlie Dalton become a submissive in bed?

“I could stare at you for hours” you tell him, sighing softly as you trace your finger up the length of him. He trembles at your touch, needing more, begging for more. Your touch was like liquid fire across his skin, and it sent another shudder through his body.

“Please….” He whines, his chest heaving. He was wrecked, a mess, and nearly fighting off tears that were burning at the back of his eyes.

“Please what?” you urge, encouraging him to use his words and loving the control you suddenly had over him. He lets out a frustrated whine as you encourage him to use his words, his mind feeling hazy at the sound of your voice commanding him. He tried to put together the words in his head, but all that could come out in the moment was another desperate plea.

“Please, more…” he pants, eyes darting between where she kneels between his legs and the ceiling above him. He feels helpless, like he’s drowning and you’re the only one who can save him.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that baby, need to know exactly what you want” you’re evil, he’s quite sure of it. Especially when you grin, slowly wrapping your hand around the base of his length, enjoying how blown out his eyes are from how needy he is.

“Anything, please. Whatever you want, I just need you” but it’s the wrong answer, it cause your hand to release him and strangled whine that leaves his throat surprises you both.

“I’m going to need specifics” your eyebrows are raised, face way to calm for the panic rushing through him from how badly he needed you. At this rate a single touch would send him over the edge in seconds.

“You. I just want you. I want you to touch me, to give me anything, please…” he begs, voice whiny and high pitched. He should be embarrassed but his desire for you outweighed that feeling more. Realizing you’d turned him into a puddle for barely nothing you try to make things a bit easier on him.

“Charlie, my hands or my mouth?” he hand is wrapped back around him, slowly guiding it up and offering some pressure to his impending release.

“I-I don’t know” he stutters and you sigh, releasing him again. It almost made you feel bad but it also turned you on too.

“Decide or you get neither” your voice is serious and his cock twitching in front of you shows he wouldn’t be able to handle not having any relief. You either did something or he suffered. He lets out a helpless noise, eyes glued to your face before speaking.

“I want your mouth, please. I need it” You grin before wrapping your hand around the base of his length again. Charlie tips his head back into the bed as you wrap your lips around his tip. He smiles softly as your tongue slowly glides across, finally providing him some relief. He whines desperately as you lower yourself, taking more and more of him in. Finally finding solace in the soft warmness of your mouth.

“Oh God” He groans, his entire body relaxing the moment he got what he wanted. He moans softly as you bob your lips around him. His hips bucking slightly, but quickly making sure not to overwhelm you as he shivers against the mattress. His breath was coming out in huffs, and he still wasn’t sure he could making it out of this alive.

You continue to bob your head up and down his length. Hollowing your cheeks out and providing the relief he so desperately needed. You moan against him when his fingers tangle your hair, the sensation making him shudder beneath you. You love how whiny he is as he tries not to grind into your mouth. You’re giving him exactly what he wants, hitting the back off your throat as your warm tongue traces the vein up his length.

“You look so beautiful like this, baby” He moans, his words becoming praise instead of sentences at this point. He couldn’t help himself, he was so overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth and he could stop that or the occasional curse.

“You’re even prettier, all worked up for me” you say after removing your mouth, proudly flaunting the drool and tears that stream down your face from the pleasure. Charlie groans, suddenly getting harder at the sight and you just smiles before taking him back into your mouth.

You have no plans of stopping, sucking him for all he’s worth and taking all of him that you can. He finds himself close to finish when your lips meet the base of him, his length entirely in your mouth. His hips stutter when he feels himself nearing his release, but his moans are quickly turning into gasps of air as his mind turns to mush. He can feel himself falling further and further into a sea of pleasure as he nears his edge, his moans becoming more and more frequent.

“I-I’m so close…” you only move faster, bobbing quickly and sucking him as hard as you can as you urge him to release. It hits him all at once, the finish whiting out his vision as he cums without warning. He coats the back of your throat but your movements never cease. Bowling him through his finish. His breathing is shaky as he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes while your movements begin to slow. He needs a moment to catch his breath, air leaving his lungs as if he ran a marathon.

“Such a good boy” you praise as you release him, arm wiping the drool and tears from your face. Yet the smile you wear shows you didn’t mind it one bit. In fact you had enjoyed every second and you were still wearing your skirt and panties.

“Is it my turn now?” he asks, breath still heavy and you laugh as you crawl up his form. Smirking at the way he winces when his length brushes against you.

“I’m all yours” is the last thing you say before he finally returns to the Charlie he was before. Rolling and pinning you to the bed in order to return the favor. Which he does happily as he finally removes the clothes from your form.

“Now this is what I’m talking about”

[amorchai]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ─ n.p

⭑ ttpd collection!

pairing(s): neil perry x female!reader

summary: a romance between two individuals from different worlds who must keep their love secret due to familial expectations.

words: 1171

warnings/tags: r is considered 'lower class' since neil is upper.

the last place you would be seen near was neil perry’s family home. his harsh father would banish you away and punish your boyfriend for ever interacting with someone as “low” as you could be considered.

using your time after high school, which was very much a public school, to paint away in your room. the dream of becoming an art phenomenon in the greater future which neil only fuelled you to pursue.

neil was upper class, in a private school of all boys, your families different from one another in every way. each weekend neil’s parents throwing adult parties filled with fancy champagne and “hors d oeuvres” while you sat on your couch catching up on homework and your latest book.

neither of you told anyone in your spaces, not neil’s friends, not yours, and especially not his parents. on days he told his dad he was doing extracurricular school activities, he would be over at yours, writing playscripts and cuddled in your company.

so when neil left his prized possession at your house, you had to sought out to him as your next planned time wasn’t for another week. and neil would worry about leaving such a thing.

you awkwardly stood outside his school gates, glancing around feeling out of place of the rich bricked building encased with golden statues and gates. you tried to look nonchalant, but with this large an item held in your arms, you definitely stuck out.

in fact, it was the first thing neil’s friends noticed while the final bell indicated the end of day, the moment they stepped out in deep chatter, he heard knox’s exclaim of interest, “who is that?”

when his friend said this, neil didn’t expect his girlfriend to be standing far out the gates, amidst students leaving for the weekend. “hot, hot, hot,” charlie mused and they all seem to take notice of your frame.

neil glances around slightly nervous, chuckling along to his friends as they leave the gates. while saying their goodbyes, most leaving in separate groups depending on their journey, todd turns to his friend, “you coming?”

“i’ll catch up with you,” neil says, watching you with a small smile from across the main road. “you gonna try talking to her?” he asks, and neil smirks with a small chuckle again following, “maybe.”

he looks either way before crossing, your state giddy as your boyfriend walks towards you. “well, why are you here?” neil asks amused, glancing down at his typewriter encased by your arms. his typewriter. which now he realised he left at your place, you saving his weekend plans cooped up in his room telling his dad he’s doing homework when he’s writing away in his nook.

“you left your typewriter, and i knew you wouldn’t be able to get it back till next week. we can’t have that, can we?” you reply, neil glancing around to ensure his friends are out of sight before bending down to kiss your cheek sweetly. leaving a warm feeling upon the skin.

“here,” neil replies, lifting the machine from your arms and into his own before kissing your other cheek several times, erupting you into giggles as you push his arm jokingly. “you definitely can’t come back to mine?” you say with a slight pout, his hair flopping in front of his eyes in a boyish charm and you swoon.

he shakes his head sympathetically, “sorry, my love. my father got a big promotion, he’s got his boss and his wife over for dinner tonight, wants me there. i’ll see you wednesday though…”

it didn’t seem enough, you both felt it and you tug on the part of his tie visible above the typewriter to pull him down and press a chaste kiss upon neil’s lips and he smiles into it. “would much rather sit and watch you paint,” he swoons and you nod.

it’s just a shame you are both from completely different worlds.

he can tell you’re thinking about something, your eyes looked at his but were glazed in worry and he tilts his head inquisitively, breaking you from your reverie as you ask, “do you ever think we’ll be able to stop being so secretive?”

neil smiles softly, wanting nothing more. he dreams of a day where he moves away from his parents, under his own roof so his dad can’t give him a scolding when he finds out about neil’s girlfriend.

it wasn’t that he was ashamed of you, he was far from it. it was just so complicated, with his dad so very involved in every aspect of neil’s life, desperate for his son to go far and wide in the career world.

“of course, once i finish school this year i can apply to college and move out.”

he made it sound so simple, his eyes kind as they scan the features across your face, his smile growing which makes yours raise in response as well. and despite there being a big typewriter blocking your way, you can’t help but lean in and wrap your arms around him in a hug.

“these little moments matter just as much to me as anything else, though.” you murmur as his mouth leaves small kisses to your head since his hands hold the heavy object, “me too, my love. i plan on marrying you and living happy ever after. no one, not even my dad, is gonna stop me from doing that.”

you feel your heart ready to burst, the seriousness of his words enough to ease your worries, “who said we’re going to get married?” you muse with a teasing smile. neil is unable to tear his eyes from your face, despite having aching arms and being late home.

“oh, i said, did i not tell you?” neil laughs and you join in, your own bubble between you both as neil feels wary of being so close to you outside his school. “good luck with that,” you continue, tugging his tie again before standing back.

he smiles warmly at you, eyes gleaming, “i’ll need all the luck i can get when i’m dating someone as out of my league as you.” you shake your head teasingly at him, he couldn’t be serious. he was the one with a rich high-class background with the picture-perfect family – despite how it really depicts behind closed doors, it was very much the other way round.

“i’m serious! the forbidden love will seize soon as i plan to get down on one knee in years to come before you find out how out of my league you really are.” you raise your leg off the ground to nudge neil’s foot with your own, “you’re really something, neil.”

he smiles at you, moving towards the path he will take home, “i’ll see you on wednesday, okay?” and you’re nodding, “of course, bring the works you write this weekend with you.”

“always, my beautiful.” and despite the cold fall air, the entire walk home your cheeks feel positively on fire.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[poemcal]

helloo, I would like to make a request for Todd. where the reader is cheeky and flirts with him during breaks, but also leaves him small poems where she confesses her love. He feels the same way but she doesn't know it, and he confesses it to her one day when he hears her crying under a tree because she felt that he would never like her, and that she felt stupid trying to make him like her.

by the way, i love how you write and I fell in love the first time I saw Ethan Hawke in the movie😭😭💖

warning: none, too fluffy maybe!!

summary: how bad can it be having a crush on your classmate? Leaving poems in his desk, just as secretly as he is in love with you.

a/n: a long one, that's it, please clap for me A WHOLE THREE HOURS WRITING THIS 😭😭😭 hope you liked it!!! AND TY FOR YOU WORDS AND SAME I FELL FOR ETHAN IN THIS MOVIE TOO 😭😭🤍

✿ I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME? : TODD ANDERSON

Every day you wait for Todd and his group of friends during breaks, since you didn’t share any classes with him. At first, you were friends with Pitts, and then you became close with all of them, except Todd. One day after classes, you saw him sitting alone. He always seemed like a bundle of nerves, but you liked that about him. You snuck up on him until you were right by his side.

“Writing for English?” Your voice made him jump in his seat, and he looked at you, startled.

“Y-yeah. I mean, no,” he stammered at first, closing his notebook and glancing around as if searching for help.

“I heard the classes are very... strange?”

Todd looked at you, almost offended, and shook his head. “It’s more than that. It’s like a lifestyle.”

“Wow. I’d like to be there, then,” you said with a smile, sitting beside him and glancing at how his hands were clinging to his pants, holding onto his comfort zone.

“You should. Why aren’t you? Aren’t we in the same year?” he asked with an honest curiosity that made you smile. It seemed like he was interested in you, in a way.

You nodded. “We are, but I got assigned a different teacher. Old-fashioned and boring, but he reads us beautiful poems,” you admitted, and for the first time, Todd smiled—just at you.

“You read poetry?”

“Of course! Although we read a bit of everything, it’s always Shakespeare.”

“Mr. Keating prefers Whitman, I guess.”

Since that conversation, you would find yourself approaching Todd during every break, taking the opportunity to give him small hints about your feelings toward him, which only grew stronger. The others could notice what you were doing, but Todd? Todd always seemed to be too caught up in his thoughts, never really in the moment, but still, you liked him more.

"Todd!" You shouted from across the campus and ran in his direction. Todd blushed at feeling so many eyes on him, but still, he stopped and waited for you. "Thanks for coming over," you said, laughing, and stopped by his side, letting your lungs take in a bit of air.

"‘I-I’m sorry!’ He would say, embarrassed to feel so clumsy just watching you run.

"It’s okay" you said with a smile, stepping closer. "On Monday, I’ll have a presentation" you started shyly, and Todd looked at you, confused. ‘I’ll have to recite a poem.’

"Do you want help?’" he asked, with a voice as delicate as always.

"No! I mean, I would loved that, but I already have one, I just... I don’t know, I thought maybe you could come watch me.’

Todd paused for a few seconds, then snapped back to reality and nodded. "Of course. I don’t think I have anything to do. J-just tell me the time, and I’ll be there." He never looked you in the eyes for long. For a few seconds, his eyes would meet yours, then he would find something less invasive to focus on. But you liked it.

"At four. Library. If you go, you should bring me some roses."

"I-i should?" Todd nervously looked around. "I'll have to grab some from here, then."

You laughed. "Bring some pretty ones."

"Aren't all flowers pretty?"

You nodded. "You're right. I should be more specific. Bring ones that won't make me sneeze all day."

"You're allergic? Then why would you ask me to bring flowers?"

You shrugged. "Because they're pretty. The gesture will be sweet, too," you said, winking at him, making Todd blush slightly.

After that conversation, you began leaving little notes with poems written for Todd under his desk every day without fail. You would hide behind the door, watching his reaction from the hallway. His pink cheeks, sparkling eyes, a shy smile he failed to hide, and his hands hurriedly stuffing the notes into his pockets made you completely happy. You wondered if he kept them for himself and hid them somewhere special.

Weeks went by, and your moment to recite in the library finally came.

When it was your turn to step up, you held the paper in your trembling hands, and your eyes instinctively searched for that blonde hair, but failed. Todd hadn’t shown up. You sighed in disappointment and recited your poem. The room filled with applause and cheers, and people praised you all the way back to your seat. As you walked back to your dorm, you saw him. Todd Anderson was sitting on the grass with the other poets laughing, and suddenly, it all made sense. He didn’t like you.

Todd looked at you, his eyes wide open, but you simply turned away and headed toward the solace of your dorm.

The next days, the notes on his desk stopped appearing, taking with them Todd’s excitement to arrive early to class just to read them. From then on, you also avoided Todd at all costs, not wanting to see his face, wishing to forget him. But he remained etched in your mind and heart, as important as a commandment and as necessary as the air in your lungs.

But you never cried, instead, you were angry at yourself for your foolish efforts to win his affection, which ultimately amounted to nothing. That changed one afternoon when you were sitting under a tree, far from Welton. The wind played with your hair, and the orange sunlight on your face heightened your emotions, and you ended up crying.

Footsteps startled you, and as you looked up, there he was. Todd. His face, worried and exhausted as always, but this time, his eyes held an unusual brightness.

He knelt in front of you, his face full of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hesitant hands hovering in the air, unsure whether to touch you.

You nodded. "Yeah, go away, Todd."

"No, you're not," he murmured, watching as you swallowed your tears and avoided his gaze.

"I am. It's nothing, okay?"

"Come on, you can tell me," he whispered, something inside him knowing it was his fault, yet still gathering the courage when he saw you crying under that old tree.

"Todd, just—"

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, interrupting you. "I didn’t mean to miss your presentation. It’s just that—"

"You don’t have to make excuses, Todd. Really. You could’ve just said no," you murmured, letting out a tired sigh.

"No! I wanted to go. It's just... I wanted to find flowers for you, but I couldn’t. I asked the guys for help. At three! But time passed, and we failed. I’m sorry," he stammered, his hands fidgeting in a silent war with each other.

"Todd. It was sweet of you to try. But it's okay, I forgive you. That’s not why I’m like this, so don’t feel bad," you said, your voice as strained as Todd’s, which wasn’t usual for you.

"Then what is it? Y-you can trust me, I promise," he said, sitting in front of you, moving a few inches closer.

"It's silly," you said, playing with the long grass beneath your feet. "I'm... scared?" you confessed.

"Scared?"

"Yes, you know. That feeling you get when you think about the future or the past or the dark or—"

"I know! I mean, scared of what? I’m scared of many things... too many," he murmured, looking at you expectantly

"Of love," you admitted, embarrassed. "Not love itself, but the absence of love, you know?" Todd nodded eagerly. "I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever be loved or if I’ll have something with someone! And it's scary."

You felt so small next to Todd, filled with fear, shame, and shyness. Todd, on the other hand, felt with so much power, more power than what he liked. He knew he needed to encourage you, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth, making the moment worse.

"Don’t say that. You will be loved, you already are."

"By my mom, maybe," you said with a chuckle.

"No, I mean, yes! But I mean romantically."

"Do you believe in that idea that the love of my life is destined and wandering out there?" you whispered as if sharing a secret.

Todd nodded. "Y-yes. They could be very close to you. Closer than you think. Right in front of you... trying so hard to be noticed. Failing. Always," he finished with a whisper, his hands ceasing their internal fight and gripping each other for comfort.

"Todd, what are you talking about?" you asked breathlessly.

"I like you! I like you..." For the first time in your life, you heard him speak so loudly and clearly that it startled you, leaving you unable to form any words. "You don’t have to say anything... Your eyes. They say more. Always," he murmured, looking into your eyes for so long that you feared feeling exposed.

But then you understood. You already were. Todd already knew you were the girl behind the poetry and that you felt as deeply for him as he did for you. His hands released their grip and gently touched your face, wiping away the silent tears streaming down your cheeks and caressing the flushed areas. Your crying stopped, and your heart raced. You felt his heavy breathing over you, and he felt yours. After a few seconds, Todd kissed you. It was short, rushed, and anxious. But it was the best kiss you’d ever had in your life.

"I like you too. A lot, Todd," you whispered without opening your eyes, afraid your eyes would say more than your lips.

"I knew it the second week the notes stopped," he said, and you opened your eyes. "That’s when I realized I wasn’t the only one in love."

"Todd..." He silenced you with another kiss, this one slow, delicate, and patient, filled with unwritten poetry between the lines. Much better than the first, leaving you wanting more.

After that, the two of you began dating. You showed your love through physical acts, like kissing, hugging, or holding hands all the time. Meanwhile, Todd preferred to be more reserved. He now left you notes and preferred to kiss you in secret, feeling the intimacy of his love. And then, everything made sense.

[sophiejanefostersilver]

Currently reading a book, and im sure it was originally a dps fic because WHAT DO YOU MEAN ONE OF THE CHARACTERS IS NAMED TOM AND HES LITERALLY TODD ANDERSON

edit: he also write poetry??? Im sorry, just-

[pinkdaiisies]

Steven Meeks x Reader: Lost Poem

Words: 2350!!! (wow i didn't know I could write so much)

Summary: When Mr.Keating assigns your class to write a poem, Meeks uses it as a chance to tell you how he feels. When the poem gets in the wrong hands, it leads to some confusion. (Miscommunication trope, friends to lovers)

Notes: I'm so terribly sorry this took so long. So. So. Sorry. I hope you enjoy :) Also yes, the poem is an Elvis song lol

Mr.Keating assigned your class to write a poem to share aloud. It should've been an easy assignment. You're quite the talented writer and you've been enjoying being a part of the Dead Poets Society. But the only thing that is appearing on the paper in front of you is mushy rhymes of the nerdy redhead Steven Meeks, and that would be too embarrassing to share with the class.

Meeks' growth spurt this school year is doing wonders for him. Along with his slightly different haircut and the way his voice sounds a little deeper than you realized last may. Meeks' appearance might've changed, but the way he acted towards you hasn't. You and Meeks have been good friends throughout your years at Welton. Being one of the few girls at Welton made no difference to how you fit in with him and his friends.

You've always had a bit of a crush on the redhead, but this year it was different. You've found yourself smitten. Your head only contained thoughts of how his hand brushed against yours during breakfast yesterday, or how he offered his Latin notes to you, and only you.

You and Meeks spent almost every waking second together (with Pitts too, but that's besides the point). Nearly the whole friend group made jokes that you two were meant for each other, or that you two were dating already. It was obvious that both of you liked each other, but Meeks was too afraid to make the first move.

So now, as you stared at the lined paper in front of you, the only thing you could think of was the constellation of freckles on Steven's cheeks.

You were doomed.

In Meek's room, there was a similar situation going on. The redhead was currently contemplating whether he should use this assignment to create a heartfelt message to tell you his true feelings about you. The paper sat blank in front of him.

Steven Meeks felt like one of the luckiest guys on campus knowing that the prettiest girl at Welton was one of his close friends. Walking you to class, sitting next to you during meals, and studying together in the library was a privilege to him. Every single one of his friends knew that he was in love with you.

Everyone but you.

Pitts walked into his shared dorm. He immediately saw the look on Meeks' face and knew he was thinking about you.

"Jesus Meeks, tell the girl already!" Pitts said, as he threw a textbook on his desk.

"It's not that simple and you know that Pitts!" Meeks said. "If I tell her and she doesn't feel the same way I could lose one of my closest friends. It could break up the entire friend group! Todd and Neil will probably end up taking her side and we'd end up never seein-"

"You're overreacting Meeks." Pitts cut the boy off from his rambling. "That's not the type of girl she is. If she doesn't like you back she'll probably let you down easy."

"Gee thanks for giving me confidence." Meeks said sarcastically.

"But you don't even have to worry about that because she likes you back! Like I've said for the millionth time!" Pitts tried to reassure Meeks. "Now write that girl a love poem!"

---

You had decided to write your poem on rainy days. You couldn't stand the thought of your entire English class knowing who you have a crush on. Your day carried on with less anxiety knowing your poem no longer had the potential to embarrass the crap out of you.

Meeks seemed the exact opposite. He was jumping at every time you tapped his shoulder to get his attention, or every time you nudged him because he wasn't focused in Latin. You knew something was wrong because Latin was his favorite.

English class approached quickly. Meeks' face got paler by the second. Instead of walking together from Latin to Keating's class, he walked with Pitts. The pair walked into class while you were still down the hallway. You noticed a sheet of folded paper at your feet.

You picked it up and unfolded it. You recognized the handwriting immediately, as well as the "S.M" in the corner. You figured it must've been his poem for class. Before you walked through the door you stopped and read it.

It was titled "I Love You Because." Your heart fell to the bottom of your stomach.

I love you because you understand Every single thing I try to do You're always there to lend a helping hand, I love you most of all because you're you

No matter what may be the style or season I know your heart will always be true I love you for a hundred thousand reasons But most of all I love you 'cause you're you

You felt sick. You almost walked back to your dorm right then and there. Instead, you stuffed his love poem for some other girl into the middle of your poetry textbook and stormed into the class.

Instead of sitting in your usual chair next to Steven, you sat in the back near Charlie. When you sat down, Charlie noticed the bothered look on your face immediately.

"Why aren't you sitting with your boyfriend?" Charlie nodded his head towards Steven in the front.

"If you're referring to Steven, I have no idea what you're talking about, because he is far from my boyfriend." You said while not making eye contact with Charlie. Instead your focus was on stuffing Stevens love poem further into your book, as if it would make the words on the paper disappear.

Keating then walked into the room. Meeks noticed the seat beside him was sat in, but not by you. He looked around the room behind him, and noticed you with a sad look on your face. His attention turned to Keating when he started talking.

"Be prepared to share your poem today class!" Keating started.

Everyone shuffled their books around and pulled out the pieces of paper that contained their poem. Meeks realized that his was missing. His heart started beating faster. He could've sworn he put it in the front cover of his textbook!

Mr. Keating then started calling people up one by one to read their poem aloud. You paid no attention to the first boy that read his poem. Instead, your brain ran through the 7 girls in your class that Steven's poem could be about. It was probably the other girl in your Latin class that Steven smiled at last week! As you raged silently in your seat, Mr. Keating called Meeks up to read his poem that sat in your bag.

"Mr. Steven Meeks?"

"I'm sorry Sir, I can't seem to find it. I promise I did write one!" Meeks said worriedly.

"My! I expect this behavior from Mr. Dalton, not you Meeks!" The class laughed, while Meeks' face reddened. "It's okay, although, I expect the poem on my desk tomorrow."

"Yes Captain." Meeks said as he shrunk down in his seat.

More students read their poems, and before you could even realize, class was over. Mr.Keating said that those who didn't read their poem that day would read it the next day.

The class stood from their seats, and started to exit. Meeks walked out and waited for you by the door. You rushed out the door with Steven's poem in your hand. You pushed the poem into his chest as you walked out the door.

"Here, I think you dropped this earlier. Whoever it's for will probably want to read it." You stormed off, tears almost coming out of your eyes. You wanted to get away from everyone. You knew Charlie or Pitts would come to interrogate you soon. Luckily, English was your last class for the day, so you were able to lock yourself in your room until dinner.

Meanwhile, Steven was walking down the halls of Welton with Pitts by his side, poem still in hand. Steven was confused to say the least.

"You said she liked me! Everyone said that she liked me!" Meeks said.

"She does like you! At least I think she does..." Pitts tried to reassure Meeks. "Can you tell me her exact words again?" Pitts said as Charlie walked up.

"She said, "Whoever it's for will probably want to read it." What does that even mean? It was for her!" Meeks said. The poor boy looked so defeated. Charlie put his arm around Meeks.

"What happened Meeksie?" Charlie asked.

"Meeks' girlfriend, well I'm not sure if I should call her that anymore, found Meeks' lost poem. It was a love poem to tell her how he feels. And she got mad and said, "Whoever it's for will probably want to read it."" Pitts voice squeaked as he tried to immitate you. "And she threw it in his chest."

"Is that why she sat next to me today?" Charlie wondered. "She seemed pretty sad the whole class. I even called her your girlfriend Meeks, she usually gets all giggly when I call her that, but today she just got all upset." Charlie explained. "Well she's obviously jealous."

"What do you mean she's jealous? The poem was for her!" Meeks said.

"Meeks you're a Latin genius, but God, you're stupid when it comes to girls. She obviously thinks you wrote the poem for some other girl." Charlie said as if it was the most simplest thing ever.

Then it all made sense. Pitts and Steven both had the lightbulb expression on their faces.

"Well that's great! She still likes you!" Pitts said jumping up and down while shoving Meeks playfully.

"Yeah, but I still hurt her. She's in her dorm right now thinking I'm in love with some other girl.

"How are you gonna tell her? Charlie asked.

"I'm not exactly sure, but I think I'm gonna need Neil's help."

----

The next day was Friday.

Friday was usually filled with joy and laughter throughout the Welton halls, but with not having Steven by your side all day, was filled with dreary and sorrow.

Neil had invited you to dinner in town that night. It took a lot of convincing. You had originally planned to sit in your dorm all weekend reading. But when you told Neil you wouldn't be joining him at the Dead Poet's Society meeting he at least wanted to take you out to eat.

It was sweet of him. Word had probably spread about how heartbroken you were about Meeks not liking you back. He probably invited you for dinner because he felt bad.

And so, after a long day of classes, you put on one of your nicer dresses, did your makeup, and curled your hair. The plan was to meet Neil in front of the school so the cab can pick you both up.

It was 6:35, but still no sign of Neil. Your reservations were for 7, and you hated being late. As anxiety creeped in your brain, you noticed someone who was most definitely not Neil walking towards you.

Steven was walking towards you, bouquet and crumpled piece of paper in hand. He was wearing his argyle sweater that you had said was your favorite once.

"Meeks, no." You whispered beneath your breath. You felt so embarrassed! You had no idea what he was doing.

He said your name when he was finally a couple feet away from you. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, something he only did when he was nervous.

"I love you because you understand Every single thing I try to do You're always there to lend a helping hand, I love you most of all because you're you

No matter what may be the style or season I know your heart will always be true I love you for a hundred thousand reasons But most of all I love you 'cause you're you"

You looked at the boy standing in front of you, the flowers in his hand, and the deep red blush that was staining his cheeks. You were in love.

"The poem was for me?" You asked him.

"Yes. Of course it is." Meeks smiled. "Oh! These are for you!" His shaking hand reached out and gave you the bouquet. They were your favorite flowers. You grabbed them from him, fingers touching for a split second.

"Oh gosh Meeks, I feel so dumb." You put your hand on your forehead in embarrassment. "Thank you Meeks. I love it, the poem, and the flowers." An awkward silence fell between you two. You didn't know how to handle the newfound affection... and neither did Meeks.

"Do you mean it... the poem?" You asked, still not completely sure if you were dreaming or not.

"Of course I do." Steven said quietly. He took a step closer, faces almost touching. The tension was split apart by the cab pulling up.

"I love you too Steven." You confessed, sighing a breath of relief.

All of a sudden there was loud shouting and celebration around the side of the building. All of the Dead Poets came rushing to you and Meeks.

"Can I be the maid of honor!" Charlie asked you while tugging on the sleeve of your dress.

"Hey! I should be the maid of honor! She wouldn't be out here if I wasn't supposed to be taking her to dinner right now!" Neil argued, and reminded you of the cab a couple feet away.

"Alright, alright! We gotta go! Leave my girl alone." Meeks said while opening the door of the car for you.

Hearing him say "my girl" was enough for you to faint right then and there.

You stepped in the car and told the rest of the boys goodbye.

After Steven got in and sat right next to you, the cab drove off. The group of rowdy boys still jumping in excitement in front of the school.

Steven waited until the car was out of eyesight from the boys before he held your cheek and kissed you.

[good--merits-accumulated]

If we for a moment forgo canon events and disagreements then I do wholeheartedly hope and believe that Todd and Neil get married during the '70s. It's a sunny afternoon on the perfect day in mid-spring and the light is at its thickest and most golden and Charlie got registered as an officiant just for this day and not everybody's present - Meeks can't make it from Switzerland on short notice, but they get a photo of him and prop it up on the coffee table at the perfect angle to see. Neil keeps wondering if he's going to get the pre-wedding jitters and does end up pacing around the living room early in the morning, but it's less cold feet and more impatience. (Turns out it's kind of hard to get cold feet when your almost-husband is sitting drowsily on the couch to keep you company and he keeps almost nodding off and you keep remembering all the ways in which you love him.) Ginny barges in at noon with hairspray and a sewing kit and insists on making bouquets with shitty grocery store flowers for both of them and Todd's suit ends up with a hastily added elbow patch and Neil's tie doesn't match his pocket square, because one's from Cameron and the other's from Knox. (Something borrowed, something blue...) It's perfect. In the end they go out on the balcony and Charlie's wearing this really tacky priest outfit, just really shitty fabric so that he's probably sweating bullets, and the collar's come untucked, and at the last moment Chris shrieks, "You forgot your bouquets!" and throws one with such good aim it hits Todd in the face. But they get through the vows and both of them only cry a little, because Cameron cries enough for all of them combined, and then that's it - over - and married. And as Charlie beams and says they can kiss there's a well-timed shower of rice from the balcony above, and congratulations, from some upstairs neighbours and well-wishers. Pitts catches the kiss on his expensive video camera and he also catches the cheering, which is so loud that, four blocks away, a lone man packing up his street food van pauses in closing boxes and thinks that there must be a party going on. He's right. And at the end of the night when the last loved one leaves and shuts the door gently behind them to not disturb the newlyweds lying together on the couch, silent with happiness, it's still perfect. At that moment it doesn't matter that there is no piece of paper, or no registry office, or that if Todd has an accident Neil might not be able to visit him in the hospital room. There will be tears for those things, but they come later. For now they're married. The beautiful thing never changes.

[dreaming-in-daylight]

𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕪, 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕡𝕠𝕖𝕥: 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠

what if neil perry wrote suicide letters?

tw: suicide

Dear Father, 

I remember the days you used to pick me up and hold me in your arms. I remember the times you used to buy ice cream from the truck on hot summer days. I remember when you held my hand comfortingly on the first day of school. Or when you held me as I cried.

I will ask you one question, even though I know I will never receive an answer. What happened to you?  When did you become a man who had no son, but a slave? A slave who must bring you joy by being buried under piles of papers expectations until he loses his will to live. A slave who had his dreams burned after he had finally touched it. What brings you joy in that? 

You shouldn’t be surprised by me dying. I wasn’t alive either way. Just a body without a soul. I am sure it will be you who finds me by your desk, unbreathing, heart unbeating. I am a human, father. I have dreams. I am not a toy for you to play with. I have a soul and a heart. 

Sincerely,  A dead poet

tag list: @booklovrrs @thiamblogger @apollo-sunsaid @neil-perrys-reincarnation @1mlostnow

@poetsinnyc @hyacinthi-mortem @endeavour12345

[y-a-w-p]

I lied. Put your clothes back on, I'm gonna explain how the excerpt of Ulysses by Alfred lord tenyisson thats resd by neil perry is direct foreshadowing for the fate of the poets as a group

[jakegyllenbaalz]

dead poets society, dir peter weir (1989)

[sustiawan-author]

Neil Perry SFW Alphabet . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Aw finally a post for our favorite Puck. Let's get into it.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is so sweet. He's the sweetest boy you've ever met, and it shows each time you spend time with each other.

He shows his love through gift giving; buying you notebooks before you even asked just because he knew you've ran out of paper (he found this out by taking a peek at your desk when he visited you), finding floral hairclips at the store just to buy them for you because he thought they'd look "just heavenly" on your hair (lol).

He's lowkey obsessed with making you look like a Shakesperean dream. To him, you are already — but looking the part? Ohhhh boy, you'll get him breathless. And I'm talking about greek stolas, medieval wear, all that good stuff.

Accompanies you on errands (yes, he's big on quality time.) You probably cycled your bicycle around town to find some newspapers to read, and he'd be there with you. Either walking along, or riding the bike while you sit tight and hold on at the backseat. It's just so romantic.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

So annoying lol.

It's only fair since he visits you so often, but he'd find any — and I mean any — excuse to be with you. Maybe he'll say to his father how he's got homework (which he's probably smart enough to not need to be tutored by the girl across the street from his school), or he'll use the recreation time provided by Welton to plan anything with you.

Honestly, he's too much of a romantic to not be so obvious about it.

He might not tell his parents yet until he's ready because as far as he can allow it, to them you're just his "extremely good friend (for now)". But to his friends, he makes it clear as day — no matter how much he attempts to deny it.

They just know someone like him won't be going out for three hours without clear purpose, okay.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

HE LOVESSSS IT OMG.

Girl give this man a hug. Many hugs. Deep, devoted hugs with the sweetest kisses.

Any of you who volunteer to love on this man with faith, the entire fandom will THANK YOU because at least now he knows someone has true faith in him.

Kiss his hair, kiss the side of his mouth, kiss his forehead. He loves it all. There's no such thing as too much affection with him

If you're in public, he'll settle for holding your hand. It shows others that you're his.

If you kiss him in public, though, he probably won't be as good at kissing you back. He gets far too red, far too quickly. It emits that stifled, giddy laugh he always does.

Hold on to his bicep. It's his favorite thing in the world. Makes him feel in charge, like he's your husband or something. He eats that UP.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

YESSSSSSSS. (lol)

Almost to a fault since he's the rushing type. His dream, even if he hadn't realized it as strongly before he got inspired by Keating, is to love and be loved.

Slipping a ring on your finger is just the cherry on top then ^_^

Neil loves you. He loves imagining a future with you, the present with you, and how different his past would be had you been there for him and near him.

He kisses you so gently each time that he wishes no more for you two to have your own space, to have your own privacy, to love without the meddling of others (including his parents.)

That being said he is... not too good at cooking with a recipe.

He's amazing at doing individual tasks, though, we have to give credit to that. Neil helped his mother out in the kitchen often already, so he knows how to cut, slice, mix, blend. All that. He probably knows how to make a good stew, but you have to watch over him and guide him over the recipe or he'll accidentally knock over the food processor.

He's a clean guy, okay. Both to himself and his surroundings.

Neil irons his clothes himself, he steams them even, he washes them, he sweeps and wipes his dorm. You'll be satisfied.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I SEE YOU ANGST LOVERS BEING SNEAKY WITH THIS LETTER

Thank you, next.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He's gonna roar at this lol.

Like,,, really quick. Right after school. A maximum of a year.

He's just ready to treat and commit to YOU, okay... like please let him build a home and life with you.

His parents would expect that he settles down with a nice girl too, so having you is a blessing to them.

Speaking of their conventionality and conservativeness, Neil would probably find it so relieving if you do want to marry him just as quick.

Give this man kids y'all.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

♡o♡ He loves you. No question about that.

You know how he has big hands? He says their purpose is to hold yours when you almost trip after trying to manouver around a big oak tree.

That's your hangout spot btw lolz.

He always gives you those puppy eyes when he's admiring you, resting his chin on his arm when you're doing something.

Neil smiles wider when you poke his nose and nuzzle it against his.

Yeah, pretty self explanatory.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

They're warm, loving. It feels like home, like safety. He's so broad and tall that hugging him feels like a weighted blanket.

You love it most when he's rested against you when you both fell asleep after reciting Romeo and Juliet with each other.

He hugs you like you could dissipate from him any second; with desperation, a little bit of insistence, and a lot of devotion.

Sigh.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

This is adorable.

Neil saw you, his "best friend" (whom his parents already approve of, so thank goodness for that peace), sitting on his second play; a proud beam on your face and clapping the loudest applause.

It's only possible that he got to participate in it to begin with because you convinced his parents during dinner that theatre could "provide as a stress relief" for him before he entered Ivy League.

At the end of Hamlet, he pulls you onstage and kisses you in front of everybody. Yes, even his buddies.

He gave you his biggest bouquet full of carnations, delphiniums, lilacs, and pomanders and latently (not so much) declares you as his.

You can't help but agree since he's been the love of your life even before you've both verbally admitted it.

He kisses your temples right after, a show of gratitude, and whispers those words you've only heard in your dreams. Everyone's never been so proud of him. You're his success.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ohhh yikes. This one is interesting.

He does. LOLLLLL

Let's say you've married (YAYY omg), and you've settled down for quite some time. Maybe a year or two. He's your loving husband, and you're his delightful darling wife.

One day, he got an invitation for a reunion (yes, at Welton.) You both attend and all went well, but there was a reason why he didn't tell anyone outside of the Dead Poets about you while you two were in high school.

You're pretty. So, so pretty. All he's ever hoped and dreamed of — and apparently others too.

There's a reason why he grasps your shoulder closer during the event when his other classmates came to say hello.

It's less jealousy and more protectiveness.

He's your knight in shining armor and he needs to know you keep viewing him that way :( even while others might not believe so.

But he's awesome, so a little rub on his chest and a nice "I'll get us some hors d'eouvres, darling? I know how much you love the raspberry tarts ^_^" gets him all settled

And a bit smug, let's not lie.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Oh, this is soooo ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

He cups your jaw and caresses his thumb there, and he kisses you like a promise. Like he's going to war.

Don't be surprised. You literally married a theatre kid.

Neil makes sure you're both somewhat secluded, be it under a sycamore tree or by the corner of the library shelves, and backs you up before kissing you like he'll be the only one you'll love for eternity.

He loves to be kissed by his knuckles. It makes him feel so mighty and brave. Don't ask me why, it's a man thing. Lol.

Sometimes he'll bury his face on your neck and hug you from behind. You two will share stories and he'll be content just guarding you there.

Sigh. Love.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Neil loves them. Finds them especially adorable if you were the one to interact with them.

He's especially good at handling his baby niece. She's just two years old, but she calls him 'Ni-ni' each time she visits his parents' home.

They almost always make him babysit her when the parents are downstairs eating or just talking, and he always has such good fun.

He's an imaginative man, so he'll go out of his way to read a story to her and make funny noises until she cackles in her little voice and tumble backwards.

It all changed when you came into the picture.

He doesn't wait until he gets told to take care of her now — no, he offers himself to the position.

His parents love inviting you over for dinner or for thanksgiving and other holidays if you're not back at your parents' place, so he'll bring his niece to you and you'll both take care of her together.

It's the most fun he's ever had.

Let's say he'll probably talk about having kids that exact same night. Just entertain him. He's having a moment.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Once you're married, he probably works quite early. So you'll help fix his breakfast and he'll kiss you on the forehead, and while you're cooking, he'd tell you how gorgeous you are, how he's so happy to have you there, and how he's going to write you in his next playwright.

He groggily insists you should stay home beforehand, but both of you know you two are far too carpe diem-ish to sit still and do nothing.

You spend the day doing activities with the other in mind and heart.

Such a lovely routine.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Assuming he works long hours, by the time he's home you're both already tuckered out.

He mumbles something incoherent and slips behind to hug you like a grizzly bear preparing for hibernation

You just giggle and remind him to change and wash up first, since you've gotten a bit more sleep while waiting for him to return.

Neil pouts when you prompt him to get upright, but he eventually caves when you kiss him with the promise of more affection when he manages to change his clothes and get a nice wash.

Then he goes down to lock up everything before you two go off to peaceful slumber.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's the type to prefer the attention to be just around the both of you in the beginning.

He generally avoided talking about things surrounding his home life, or other things that revolve around that.

Once you've become familiar to one another and you assure him, with great vigor, that whatever he's been through or will go through in terms of family ties won't deter you from the relationship, then he'll open up.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's only ever angered by principle. If injustice is committed, if the people he cares about ever gets into trouble or unjustified danger, or something unfair ever happens.

He used to bottle it up and just say 'forget about it,' but you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms and berated him there and then.

Ever since, he's seen his anger as not a form of rebellion, but as an expression of care and genuine passion.

"If my love that envelops you is one of good passion, then I don't doubt that my rightful anger should be any less than."

Read that in his voice because yes, he said that.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He's a poet, baby.

Yes he does.

Even the way your fingers move in tandem when you wash your hair does not get missed out by him.

He's not perfect, though, and he knows you prefer him this way; he forgets your friends' names. Lol. I have to say it. Unless you mention them a lot of times or they're seen like 24/7 with you, he won't be able to tell who they are.

Everything else, he associates with you though. Like to him, your favorite color is his definition of you, your favorite flower is you. You become everything he's remembered about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Ah, love.

He remembers the moment you first declared your feelings for him, backstage when everyone has started to go home.

He stayed a while to talk to you with the excuse of taking off his costume and makeup, but you stayed there.

You sat on top of the vanity, swinging your legs as you looked up to him with sparkles of admiration in your eyes.

He leaned closer, savoring you. He didn't want to kiss you yet. Neil just wanted to make sure you're there, you're his, and that moment was shared just between the two of you.

His greatest dreams of love had just been declared into fruition, and he couldn't have been happier.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The first bit of this has already been answered so the second part it is.

He does it way more to you, but anytime you do it back, he finds it soooo ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ when you step up for him.

Like the time you had to convince his parents? Or that one time you snapped back a snarky retort at Charlie for teasing him? Ooh boy. Gets him going.

He just likes the feist in you, okay.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This is the sweetest thing because tell me he wouldn't absolutely write a journal's worth of poems for each of your birthdays.

He has the money to buy you trinkets and he would, like heart-shaped pendants, flower promise rings.

But he also loves to put in effort for the DIY gifts. I'm talking about scrapbooks with the photo of you two together, complete with the lipstick kiss mark you've left on his old notebook, torn neatly and stuck to the journal with some patterned tape.

His concept of love is to go all out for his beloved. In this case, you ♡☆♡ ^_^

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I'm gonna be so real...

He is such a crybaby when he's sick.

He'll go all out with the sniffles, the red nose and the coughing.

"Honey, come on. Please :(( I can't grab it myself," as he feigns reaching for the flu medicine. He hides himself under the pillow and whines for you.

You dated and married a theatre kid. Don't blame me for his dramatics.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oh, man lol. Boy has his self perception changed since he's met you.

"Honey, don't you think I look just as divine as you are? My arms grew quite stronger," as he flexes in front of the mirror. And he is locked IN to his reflection as he mutters this.

He used to be quite modest about himself, but now he's thrown it all to the side. Thanks to your endless compliments and praise that he let into his head!

"Darling, won't you hold the mirror for me, please? Need to look my best as your man."

You smack his arm with a hearty laugh before you two go out. He loves it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He's a lovely, mature, and sane man.

Secure attachment is all I'll say.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Let me just mention a couple of out-of-context phrases he'd say to you.

"But I wanted those bags of candies!"

"You promised to stay" (yes, he is guilt-tripping you. he does that often with his puppy, brown eyes)

"I love the way you smell. Honey, you're just as good as pie."

Like dude alright you're smitten leave all of us be.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He has an unspoken (yet often expressed) disgust about porridge.

Yes, he eats it when he's sick because he couldn't possibly have said no to his mother. But yes, he does gag a number of times when she isn't in the room because of how awful the texture is.

If he's sick, just make him soup. He wouldn't ever tell you if he doesn't like your cooking, but for the sake of his stomach.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Y'all r gonna laugh so hard but he's a drooler.

Like he drools and he curls up like a humbug.

It's okay, just put a napkin on top of his pillow and the problem will be solved.

You won't be able to deny his bear hugs anyway and you love him too much so.

You'll live.

taglist ⤷ @astridstark13

[perksofbeingpoet]

maybe this is all they'll ever be- gasps and hisses and marks in inconspicuous places, bruises on shins from soccer and teenage recklessness.

todd squirms away, his feet tangled in the knot the blanket has become at the far end of his bed. he's laughing, a laugh that's as wide and clear as the december sky outside their window. "neil, stop- neil!"

if it is- if shared breakfasts will be over once they leave welton, if looking back, they won't be more than an adventure had and lessons learnt- then todd wants this to go down slowly.

neil's laughing too now, teeth and grin clashing into where he's still pressing kisses, revelling in the way todd giggles like a child. a strange kind of intimacy, knowing where someone goes from shuddering to chuckling. "you're so weird, todd, no one's ticklish at their knees."

be gentle with us when you break.

let me be soft when i bleed, when i bite.

if our love is meant to die, if we have to kill it with blood-crusted nails, let's look at the body fondly.

[ash5monster01]

hey!! could you please write more neil perry smuts? they’re so rare and your writing is amazing

your wish is my command 🤍

It’s Just Practice

Pairing: older!Neil Perry x actress!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, language, oral f & m receiving, p in v, fluff, MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s Neil’s first sex scene on a new acting job and not only is he terrified but he’s afraid he’ll be so uncomfortable it will affect his acting. You provide a solution.

word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

You don’t miss the way Neil wipes sweaty palms on the front of his jeans, eyes darting to the filming schedule for the week, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Ever since you both had started filming this movie he hadn’t been nervous, in fact he was a natural, which you appreciated considering you had been doing this your whole life. That’s why his behavior has caught you off guard, the script pages fanning against your fingers as you flip through them in search of the lines you’d have to brush up on this week.

“What’s up with you?” your voice comes out sharp, startling him as he jumps to turn and spot you in your director chair, legs crossed, and script open on your lap.

“Nothing, I’m fine” he says unconvincingly and it almost makes you snort considering an actor should be much better at lying than he is.

“No you’re not, take a seat Bambi” you tease, watching the doe eyed boy nervously approach his own director chair beside you and take a seat. You know he hates when you call him that but someone so innocent looking like him exploring the world of acting on unsteady legs reminded you of the sweet deer.

“I swear I’m fine” he says, stretching his fingers over his thighs, looking anywhere but you as he clearly battles with whatever inner thoughts currently had him this on edge.

“Neil, I’ve been doing this a long time. So let’s skip whatever this is and get to the part where you confide in your experienced friend” his cheeks burn red, taking your words in a context you don’t quite understand yet, because he was currently freaking out about the scene scheduled for tomorrow.

“It’s about tomorrow” he nearly whispers, causing you to lean closer to make sure you don’t miss what he says.

“What about it?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed together as you close the script and plop it on the ground beside your chair. A nervous hand meets the back of his neck, massaging the flesh there as he attempts to find his words.

“I-I’ve never filmed a sex scene before” he whispers again and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your lips, shocked that of all things you two had already filmed together this was the one that shook him the most. “Please, it’s not funny”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just-, usually the men I act with look forward to those scenes the most” you offer, trying to calm your laughter down. Neil shakes his head so you reach to place a hand on his arm, offering as much comfort as you can.

“I’ve never done one before and if I’m being honest the guy who went to an all boys high school wasn’t actively getting laid in college” he tells you and this is something new about him that you hadn’t known, it could explain why he was still so nervous and sweet around women unlike some people in this industry.

“You have… right?” you find yourself asking and Neil wears a panicked expression.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been with a woman. Just not on camera, not like this” he gestures to the script, knowing the scene the two of you were to perform tomorrow was a high stakes passionate moment between lovers.

“Take a breath Perry, it’s easier than you’d think” you assure him, squeezing his arm once more before letting go.

“How could it be easier?” he asks, exasperated and little shaken up about this whole thing. He’s nearly positive that if he had known there was a sex scene he may have never taken the job.

“It’s easier because not only are we professionals but we’re friends. You can’t look at it like an intimate moment being watched by an audience, you have to be comfortable and trust me” you tell him, reaching for your water bottle. Neil lets the words sink in as you take a sip, eyeing how some of the water dribbles along your lip and your tongue darts out to catch it.

“Friends don’t kiss each other” he says with the shake of his head and you snort, twisting the cap back on your water bottle.

“In this business they do, it’s nothing, it’s friendly!” you assure and Neil can’t help but chuckle, finding a semblance of amusement in this minor crisis of his.

“Well if you don’t remember, this is only like my third acting job that isn’t theater” Neil says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and rub his hands together. You watch as his biceps flex under that thin material of his shirt and gulp lightly.

“Alright, here’s the deal. After filming today, come to my place, I’ll cook you dinner and we can…. practice the scene. Make sure you’re comfortable” you suggest, wringing your hands together and hoping the boy doesn’t take it in some weird way. You had been doing suggestive scenes a long time, long before it was probably even appropriate, so this should be nothing. How hard could it be to make Neil comfortable with you?

“Okay, that sounds good. Thank you” he says and you crack a smile even though you were suddenly the one who was nervous. There was nothing normal about cooking dinner for a man and practicing fake sex but then again nothing about this job had been normal so far. So you nod your head and prepare for the worst.

“Yeah, anytime”

It’s taking everything in you to tear your eyes away from them nearly empty casserole dish, the very one you and Neil had just picked at in order to delay the next part of this hangout. You felt silly even making it considering it was the only thing you ever learned how to cook and you had to double the recipe to feed more than one person. It was even more embarrassing digging through your kitchen for more than a single serve dish to cook it in.

“The food was great” Neil offers and it springs you into action, shoving the chair away from the table as you collect the dishes and start towards the sink.

“Thanks, I’m not much of a cook” you say, smiling as he meets you at the sink with his own used plate. He smiles back as you take it from his hands, setting it in along with the other stack.

“I brought my script, you know, just incase. Even though there isn’t a lot of dialogue” he says and you giggle, realizing your were more comfortable with him than you had previously thought.

“Great, why don’t we go to my room” you sound silly saying it, like a teenage girl unsure of how to get a boy in her bedroom but Neil doesn’t even flinch as he nods at you and waits to follow in your direction.

You use the opportunity to snag your empty wine glasses and the rest of the bottle from dinner to bring with you, flashing him a quick smile over your shoulder as he follows you up the stairs and to your room. He’s ever the gentleman as you set the glasses on your dresser, pouring fresh glasses as he eyes the minimal belongings around the room.

“Cozy” is all he says and you smile, handing him a glass while sipping from your own.

“Temporary, I travel too much for work to ever get comfortable in one place” the notion surprises Neil, considering he stayed in the same place for nearly his entire life. Even through all of college and into his adult years he still hadn’t even spent as much time out of Welton as he did in it.

“Sounds lonely” he suggests as he moved to sit on the end of your bed and you tip back the rest of the wine before joining him.

“Maybe, but I’m used to it” you tell him, taking the script from his hands and opening to the pages. If you were to survive this, you’d have to be as professional as you could.

“Alright coach, how do we do this?” he asks, lacing his fingers and stretching his arms out in front of him. You chuckle, shaking your head lightly at the boy who was so nervous about this earlier.

“Well the beauty of a sex scene is we have creative freedom. You only have a few marks you have to hit, other than that there isn’t much direction to follow” you explain, holding out the script to show how the script indicates where they kiss, where their hands should be, certain sounds, in only various places.

“Okay so make it your own but also hit the marks” he nods, glancing at the script as he lets the new information sink in.

“I find it best to count and also pace it as if it was real. So from the moment we first kiss, count to five and then put your hand on my cheek” you explain, pointing to the written direction on the page and Neil nods.

“Okay, so it starts with us at the end of the bed and I lean in for a kiss” Neil says, holding the adorable glasses he wore up to his eyes. You smile as he drops them back down into his front shirt pocket again.

“If it makes you more comfortable we can practice, I promise I don’t bite and I haven’t been told I’m a bad kisser” you shrug and he bellows a laugh, moving the script from out of between you both. He was nervous earlier but he also liked you, thought you were funny, and if you were this willing to work with him there was really nothing he should be afraid of.

“Tell me if I do something wrong” he whispers, ducking in close and tracing the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours. You suck in a sharp breath, unprepared for his causality about the whole thing.

Slowly you tip your head up, eager to chase his lips with your own and finally, just as in the script he meets you, unpracticed lips fumbling together as he kisses you like it’s real. You kiss back slowly, sighing softly as his hand meets your cheek and slowly slides into your hair, fingers lacing through the locks and grabbing a fistful to steady your mouth against his own. If Neil was truly unexperienced it would not be this good.

Following the next part of the script he slowly eases you onto the mattress, chest pushing against your own until your head meets the soft cushion of your bed. For once you’re thankful your character doesn’t have to do much of the work, you just let out soft sounds of delight as his lips trail down your neck and meet the front of your chest. You’re not even sure if you’re acting anymore when you roll your hips into his own.

“We can stop here” he mutters against your skin but you feverishly shake your head, hands meeting his face and keeping him where he was.

“No, it’s okay. We’re gonna see a lot of each other tomorrow, better to just get it out of the way” you urge and he nods, continuing to kiss your neck as he starts shoving your dress up the sides of your hips just like it is in the script.

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable” he mutters, lips kissing along the fabric on your chest and stomach, inching his way down.

This would be the scene where he removed your panties, the camera would be just on your face as you moaned out words of pleasure, as if he was actually giving you head. Ever the actor though, Neil has found himself with his arms hooked under your legs and head awfully close to your underwear where he can undoubtedly see the wet patch beginning to form there. You both freeze, realizing fairly quickly this wasn’t a scene surrounded by a hundred workers, that you were alone and he had made you wet.

“I-I’ve never” Neil suddenly says and your cheeks tint pink, hands already reaching to shove your dress back down and over your hips. “Could I?”

“What?” you can’t help the shocked voice that leaves you as the brunette boy gives you a sheepish look.

“I know we don’t actually have to but I really am comfortable with you and if you’d let me?” he suddenly feels like an idiot, coming over here for help and then nearly begging to eat you out. You can practically see the thoughts racing in his head and you slowly pull your skirt back up.

“Go ahead” you urge and despite the initial shock Neil doesn’t let it falter him as he slips his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly begins to slide them down your legs. If you had known the night would turn out like this you probably would’ve never invited him over but it was already too late, you wanted him hopefully as much as he wanted you.

“Just, make sure I do it right” he says and before you can respond with some sort of agreement his tongue darts out and glides through your folds, a squeak escaping the back of your throat as your head drops back against the mattress.

Neil realizes the reaction you made is a good one so he dives right in, relishing in the taste of you as he licks and sucks, exploring all the new parts of a female body he’d never understood before. When his nose nudges against your clit a loud moan break free from your lips, making Neil’s eyes widen as he dares to do it again in order to confirm that was the spot to get such a reaction out of you. When he realizes it was no mistake he moves to suck hard on that one spot and your eyes nearly roll back in your head.

“Shit Neil, you really sure you haven’t done this?” you pant, whimpering as he slides a finger into you. Neil hums in response, the vibration of it tingling up through your whole body. He doesn’t pull away to give a verbal answer and instead speeds up his movements that you begin to feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you and he moans against your clit do you feel your orgasm near the edge. On instinct your hand flies down to tangle into his hair, thighs slowly tightening around him as his movements never cease. Your other hand is wound so tightly into your sheets you miss the sly look he gives when he realizes you’re about to finish. With one last pump of his fingers and harsh suck to your clit you’re cumming swiftly, tightening around his hand as he continues to coax the orgasm out of you. The whines that leave your mouth are delectable and when your body finally relaxes against the mattress he pulls away, a happy smile on his face as his heart thrums in his chest.

“How was that for practice?” he says, breaking the silence, and you laugh quickly. At least he was able to be confident in this situation.

“I’d say we were a little too professional” you respond, breath coming out in heavy pants and Neil stands from the ground at the end of the bed, smiling down at you. Yet it’s impossible to miss how hard he is in his jeans, the length of him pressed uncomfortably against his zipper, and you gulp. Neil notices your eye line immediately, suddenly nervous all over again.

“You know the next part of the script is me helping you out?” you say in the form of the question even though you both know it’s not. Neil chuckles even though nothing is entirely funny about how your suggestion has suddenly made him harder and the look in your eyes proves you’re not going to let him off that easy.

“You don’t have to, I’ve kinda already stepped over the line” he shyly says, that nervous hand once again returning to the back of his neck. It doesn’t matter though because you’ve already sat up and started tugging at the zipper of his pants, fingers fumbling the button open.

“Shut up for once Perry and let’s finish what we started. Practice or not” and with one fowl sweep your tugging his pants and boxers down in one go. You had never considered the size of him before today but you’re not disappointed, in fact you’re shocked to see he had been hiding all that all this time.

Neil’s the one whining now, member standing tall and proud, grazing his lower abdomen and leaking with precum. You smile at him, hands pushing the T-shirt up and over his head before standing and pushing him down in the place you just were. He shifts, clearly in need of some relief, but you don’t touch him just yet. Instead you reach for the bottom of your dress, slowly tugging it up and over your own head just to reveal you had forgone a bra.

“Oh God” Neil says at the sight and you just grin, hands falling to his thighs as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling where he just was. Neil can barely watch as you place a soft kiss on his thigh, hand rubbing up to his pelvis and dangerously close to where he was desperate for your touch.

“You know Perry, of all things I never expected you to be so desperate” you tease and he goes to give a witty comeback, he really wants to, but you have your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and any words in his mouth are swallowed in an instant. You wait a beat before pumping your hand softly, when you earn a soft moan you finally dart your tongue out and slowly lick the tip.

Neil’s squeezes his eyes shut so tightly there is almost tears coming out of them. You smile at the sight before taking him into your mouth fully. The gasp he lets out is music to your ears and you take as much of him as you can. What you can’t reach you use your hand and just like that Neil Perry is a mess of a man in your bed, when not so long ago this was supposed to be an innocent and professional practice. When you speed up your movements he’s quick to snap his eyes open, sitting up in an attempt to push you off.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep going like this and personally I’d like to be inside you when I do finish” the pet name and the sentiment has your ears burning red but you release him with a pop anyway, arm wiping at your chin as you smile up at him.

“How does it go in the script? Me on top?” Neil blushes and you lift from your knees, crawling above him on the bed. His eyes dart from your own, to your breasts, to where the two of you will meet, and you can nearly see the gears turning in his head.

“God I’m in trouble” is all he says when you grind down onto his length, covering him in your slick.

“Why’s that?” you ask, an innocent look on your face as you settle above him and grind against his length again, not quite lining him up to slip inside yet.

“There’s no way I’m not going to get a hard on, on set tomorrow. Especially after I already know what it’s like to be inside you” he pants, hands gripping your hips as you move slowly against him, nearly killing him.

“You haven’t been inside me yet, in fact we could just stop right now and save you the embarrassment” you start to say lifting up, but his hands grip tighter, and bring you back down. You’re sure he might leave finger marks but at this point you don’t really care.

“Baby, I am painfully hard and this either ends with me inside you or me awkwardly going to the bathroom to resolve this little issue, and I’d much prefer the first one” the sentence makes you giggle loudly and Neil finally breaks a smile, grinding his hips up into your own and you’re quickly reminded of the sheer length of him nestled deliciously between you.

“I prefer it too” is all you say before you grab his member without warning and line it up with your entrance. Neil squeezes your hips tightly and watches with wide eyes as you slide down his length. Slowly, slowly, until you’re flush against him and your head is tipping back at the sensation.

It’s better than he could’ve ever imagined and without you looking he gains the courage to reach and grope your tits, shamelessly feeling them up. The action makes you grind against him and he stiffens, trying to make sure he lasts as long as he could. He didn’t want this to end. Yet you seemed to have enjoyed the feeling as well and without warning you’re grinding quickly against him, using his hold on your chest for balance. When the feeling doesn’t become enough you place your hands on his own chest and lift off him. His hands instantly leave your breasts and return to your hips where he guides you back down on him.

You stay like this for a while, filthy moans leaving both of your lips as you bounce on his length, your eyes rolling back every time he hits that spot inside you. When Neil is sure he can’t take it anymore he’s flipping you onto the bed, hovering above you and giving no warning as he starts drilling into you. The moan you let out is pornographic and as he continues to drive into you he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. When he feels you tightening against him he smiles and meets his lips with your own.

“Come on baby, finish one more time for me” he encourages before pulling back and thrusting into you faster. When his fingers meet your clit and begin to rub, you feel the coil tighten in your stomach, ready for release.

“Shit Neil” you gasp, hands gripping his arms and holding on tightly. Neil smiles and never slows his pace.

“Come on baby, so fucking pretty like this” he says breathily, moaning softly in your face and it’s enough for the coil to snap. You tighten down around his length, legs trembling as they try to close together and he never ceases his movements as you cum hot and fast.

“I’m not gonna last much longer” he warns and you wrap your legs around him, indicating to finish in you, and it causes his hips to stutter. When your lips meet his own he’s finishing, warm ropes filling your inside, and he pushes in deeply once more as he settles against you.

You both lay there for a moment, letting the weight of what just happened settle in. You had never let a coworker step over that line before but it wasn’t regret you were feeling. In fact your stomach was warm with desire that hadn’t quite burned out yet. You had found Neil charming and kind from the start but you had not realized the feelings that bubbled there all along. Brewing into something much bigger and deeper than you ever realized. Something that made you go through with what you just did.

“So that just happened” Neil breaks the silence and you giggle loudly, hand falling against the back of his head and keeping him against you. The warmth spreading from your stomach and all the way up your chest.

“I told you there was no reason to be nervous” you say, fingers grazing through his hair and he chuckles, arms wrapping tighter around your bare waist.

“That may be true but now I’m more nervous everyone on set will see how into you I really am” Neil admits, lips brushing against your chest softly and ending with a soft kiss.

“Good acting is all, Oscar worthy” you say and he laughs again, head lifting to look in your eyes. They’re so full of adoration your heart stutters in your chest and you realize just how gone for him you really are.

“Hopefully that wasn’t all it was, acting” Neil says softly and you shake your head, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“No, that was real” you admit and he smiles before leaning and pressing a firm kiss against your lips. One that conveyed he had no interest to stop kissing you after this moment. Maybe you were done for, in over your head, but at least you had this moment. A feeling, the idea of hope, that you could hold onto forever.

“It was real for me too”

[prettyyoungandbored]

See You Again - Charlie Dalton

Pairing: Adult!Charlie Dalton x Fem!Pregnant!Reader

NOT MY GIF

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Charlie asked, rubbing his wife’s back.

“Everything that is terrible for me,” she replied with a tired sigh, putting one hand on her belly. “Probably a bad idea bringing me into the grocery store.”

“We’re almost done with the list,” he told her. “Besides, we’ll be here for a week. We can always come back if you need other stuff.”

They decided to spend the week at his parent’s vacation home in Vermont. Y/N had been itching to get away from the city but considering she was four months pregnant, Charlie didn’t feel like going too far.

“How about we do some roast chicken thighs tonight?” she suggested. “It’s easy enough.“

“Perfect.” He kissed her cheek.

“Ok, so for that we’ll need some chicken thighs, rosemary-.”

“Charlie?”

Charlie looked away from Y/N, his smile falling. His blood ran cold at the figure standing in front of him.

Mr. Perry.

The last he saw Neil’s father was at Neil’s funeral. That was a little over 10 years ago, yet the man hadn’t aged all that much.

In all the times Charlie’s returned to Vermont since being kicked out of Welton, he managed to avoid seeing the Perry’s. There was the scare when his mother invited them to his and Y/N’s wedding, but they never responded nor showed up.

Y/N’s shifted from Charlie and the old man, wondering if she should stay behind Charlie and protect their baby.

“Mr. Perry,” Charlie spoke up, trying to swallow the lump in the throat.

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization and she wondered if she should step in for Charlie’s sake.

Meanwhile, Charlie saw Mr. Perry’s eyes fall to Y/N’s stomach. Charlie tightened his jaw, fists clenched.

“Congratulations…son,” the old man said with a nod.

Once the old man turned away, Y/N sighed in relief. “Let’s just pay and go, ok?”

Charlie wasn’t going to argue.

==================================

Following by a silent car ride home, Y/N spoke up the moment they walked inside the vacation home.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we’re going to,” she said.

“Honey-.”

“Non-negotiable, Charlie.”

His jaw tightened. “Fine. Alright. He has no right to show his face to me. Not after what he did. And the way he looked at your stomach…like…who am I to be a father, right? Like he…he…”

“Charlie-.”

“Neil should be here, dammit! He should be here and the fact his asshole of father is still walking around after what he did! After what he caused!”

Tears streamed violently down his face. Y/N reached out to him, but he stepped back. He turned around and walked outside, slamming the door.

Y/N exhaled softly, guilty tears filling her eyes. She just wanted to talk with him about it, but she knew she should have known better.

As she sat down on the couch, she pretended to ignore the sound of the car driving off.

==============================

Charlie closed the car door and made his way up the hill, hands buried in his jacket pocket. He walked across the cemetery, glancing at the names until he saw the one he needed to see.

And then he spotted it, his heart dropping to his stomach.

NEIL ROBERT PERRY

NOVEMBER 10, 1943 - DECEMBER 15, 1959.

He’d avoided coming here long enough. He’d sworn after the funeral he wouldn’t go here, already traumatized by the fact his best friend was in a casket.

Hot tears strolled down his face, as he lowered his head.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come out here,” he spoke up. “I would say it’s not for a lack of trying, but…”

He shook his head. “You know, I never forgave myself for not stopping your dad. I thought if maybe I intervened or actually did something, I could’ve…you know. I promised myself that next time I’d see him, I’d give him a piece of mind. Tell him what I should’ve told him at the funeral. Yet the second I see the son of a bitch in the grocery store, I choke.”

He lowered his head, a tear rolling down his cheek and hitting the headstone.

“I’m gonna be a dad, Neil,” he continued. “How can I protect my kid when I couldn’t protect you?”

The silence that fell was a reminder that Neil could not respond. He couldn’t tell Charlie what he needed to hear. He couldn’t tell him that things would be ok.

And he never would.

Charlie wiped his tears and sniffled. “I miss you, Neil.”

===================================

When Charlie returned to the house, he hung his jacket and slid off his shoes. Figuring Y/N was probably asleep, he quietly made his way up the stairs into the master bedroom.

There, he found Y/N lying awake in bed, the soft glow from the television reflecting on her.

She propped herself up when she saw him walk in. “Charlie, I’m sorry I-.”

“No, no don’t apologize,” he said, crawling into bed beside her. “I’m sorry I screamed and ran off like that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s ok. You were shaken up and I-.”

“No, Y/N, it’s not ok. There’s no justification for it.” He grabbed her hand, kissing her open palm. “I’m sorry and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Y/N went to turn off the TV when Charlie asked, “Can we keep it on a bit longer?”

“Of course.”

She snuggled into him, as he threw an arm around her shoulders.

Not a moment passed by when Y/N broke the silence and returned to the subject. “Where did you go?”

Charlie sighed, wishing to avoid it but knowing he needed to face it one way or another.

“I went to Neil’s grave,” he answered.

She straightened up her posture, mouth hung open slightly. “You actually went?”

“I didn’t really know where else to go. Plus, I figured it was time.”

He wanted to end the conversation there, but she had that look he knew all too well. It was the kind of look that begged him to keep talking about it.

“It was strange,” he continued. “The idea of talking at a headstone, knowing that’s the only way I can talk to him.”

His eyes fell to her stomach. “You know what kills me the most? The way Mr. Perry looked at me after he saw your stomach, like I had the audacity to become a father.”

“He knows you’ll be better than he was and that’s what kills him,” she said.

He glanced back up at her. “You think so?”

“The fact you’re opening up about it means you care enough not to repeat the mistakes you’ve seen others make,” she said. “I know you’ll be a better father than Mr. Perry and your dad ever was.”

His hand met her stomach. She placed a hand over his.

“I promise I’m gonna do my best,” he said.

He used his other hand to take a strand of Y/N’s hair, tucking it behind her ears. “I’m sorry I yelled and walked out on you. You never deserved that.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you to talk about it. I should’ve let you had a moment to process it.”

“You were trying to help.”

“I could’ve gone about it better though.”

“How about we leave it at we’re both sorry and we focus on enjoying each other’s company during the trip?” he suggested gently.

She smiled in agreement. “Works for me.”