#and keating laughing at him

[giolovesyousm]

talking about the night of the play....chill it's nothing sad you can continue reading, keating's car I supposed had five seats, two on the front and three in the back (??) like all the normal cars I think.

but the fact is that they were five (excluding keating), cause neil was already at henley hall and knox walked with chris...I could swear on my life that charlie was on the front with keating and meeks was on pitt's lap

#yea all this papyrus for saying that probably someone had to stay on the lap of somebody else #it's pretty funny to me #charlie went surely like 'I'M ON THE FRONT' and just run for his life to the car #meeks (the pacifist) waited for the others to enter #pitts probably too tall had to bend his neck #cameron complaining about the music charlie wanted to listen #and keating laughing at him #todd watching from his little angle 🧍guys can you stfu

[rainymoodlet]

Kiss Me in Komorebi+ 🌸

[ Second Vacation: Keaton! ]

The next morning…

See what I mean when I say these two are flirty? 👀 Keaton’s been stuck in a Chilled moodlet since he got to the vacation house, and it doesn’t seem like last night’s cuddles got him any warmer! I’m sure they helped, though. 😉 Nothing a quick soak in the hot tub with a hottie won’t fix!

Part 4 of 6 🌹

@duusheen

#look at him just mooning at daniel omg 🥺 this post is entirely unposed thats keat’s real face!!! #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 challenge #ts4 screenshots #ts4 bachelor challenge #;kmik #sim: daniel #keaton stratton by duusheen #|| #this might be surprised but once dan’s got his thang goin he loves tease-flirting #its one of his favorite forms of blurring the friendship-romance lines fhdhfh #i love seein’ my boy smile so much omg 🥺 #early dan rarely ever laughed now he’s like 🙂 as a baseline #and i love that for him #i will say keaton is a lot bolder without so many sims around #he left daniel largely alone on his intro night #whereas here he can’t leave him alone!! #keaton’s the one who initiates action between the two of them more often than daniel its adorable fhfh #he’s just like hm what’s dan up to 👀 #i fixed my phone mod so the latest updates will not have that big chonky 80s phone #i will miss it though!! #sounds like dan is a lil disappointed their time is getting cut short hmmmm 🤔

[deadpoets]

sometimes i think about neil perry and end up in tears

#simone says #he's so tragic and i want to hold in my hands and give him a kiss on the forehead #i want to wrap him up in a blanket and tell him it's all going to be okay #his whole conversation with keating in his office makes me sick to my stomach #he's trapped and he gives this laugh but then everything turns all mournful #fuck i need to rewatch this movie

[papasmistakeria]

Okay, this one’s for the Malcolm Reed stans-

How many of y’all know about ‘Desmond’s’? Also, how many of y’all would be interested in a crossover fic where Tony was actually one of Malcolm’s old Section 31 undercover personas and the Ambrose family recognized him when Enterprise returned?

#desmond's #desmonds #star trek #star trek enterprise #star trek ent #enterprise #malcolm reed #dominic keating #crossover #alternate universe #papas mistakeria special #cause I'm tempted to write a fic about this #it'll be a crackfic but still be fun :) #Desmond would probably laugh his ass off when the white boy hairstylist came up and everyone's calling him a hero

[kuroken-lovechild]

dead poets society spoilers and oversharing in the tags

#i relate to neil perry (mf who smiles and laughs through everything even when asking for help from his teacher/someone he trusts #yet is unable to muster up any of that at the mere mention of a parent) #forgot to add + (so full of life at school when with friends or doing something he loves like breaking rules to do art and poetry #but nobody truly understands the depth of his trauma with his family) #it was funny bc when neil was standing in front of the window before That part i went like #“haha if I were neil wouldn’t it be funny if I’d kms to prove a point and make them feel learn their lesson’ #AND THEN HE ACTUALLY #someone tell me what neil perry was supposed to do please . #i thought mr keating was gonna give him the answer or even a hint but it didn’t work and I desperately needed that too cmon please

[kooqitas]

... law class & sex ★ with: jjk!

#pairings: teacher!jjk X reader

#synopsis: you didn't think your teacher would notice how desperate you were for his cock

#tags: teacher!jk, pwp, cockslut, rough sex, spanking, semi public sex (?), creampie, vaginal sex, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation,

🌸 . . nsfw, +18 | 

────────────────── ୭ ──────────────────ㅤ

"you fucking pervert. you like this, don't you? is this pussy wet after seeing my class?"

your teacher looks like you are a freak, yeah, maybe you are.

to be honest, it is kinda difficult to explain how this happened. you really have a big crush on your teacher and of course if he asks you to ride on his dick, but he's never made a mention about that, unlike this, he's really so kind and respectful with you and your friends. 

but he’s hot. super hot.

you feel your underwear wet after the moment you stepped on the class.

jeon jungkook is your teacher of criminal law, and you really like your teaching methods, but being a young adult in a constant fertile period doesn’t help. 

the teacher is so attractive, every part of your body, with the passing of the months you just want to sit on his face and sucking your dick. 

but you always hide this, except for today.

you never felt your pussy so wet when this man started speaking like annalise keating, and your tight pants doesn’t help, your thighs make you insane. 

the only thing you can do is take a lollipop and leave it in your mouth, sucking like jungkook's dick.

he got it. you practically devore him with eyes when sucks the candy.

the class is over, so he’s calling you.

“what’s your problem today?”

is he looking at your nipples? wow

“excuse me, sir?”

“to be honest, i really receive several proposals to eat my students, but you know, i always decline…”

it’s true, you always hear your friends say that they have tried something more with jungkook, insinuations, short clothes, inappropriate photos, everything, but he always said “no”. 

this is one of the motives you never tried anything.

“i know that, but i can’t understand why u tell me this, sir…”

“oh! really?” he asked, the mocker tone evident in his voice. “what you want of me, sweetheart?”

“excuse me?”

oh, jungkook we're going to humiliate you? say that you’re a pervert and he never wants anything with you? really? 

“i see how you look to me when sucks that lollipop, i see in your face how that cunt makes you wet at each little word i said.” he’s raised, staying in front of you. “you want that i fuck you, stupid whore?”

jungkook's face changed. he’s look like a devil, maybe the pleasure, but still a devil.

what the fuck he’s doing? all your friends say that he always said “i'm not interesting, bye” but why now he’s spoken like that? 

“i made a question, because to be honest, i’m tired of hiding how much i want to fuck your cute little drippy cunt, of hiding how much i want make you cum on my cock and made you my personal slut”

“y-yes, i want”

he laughed.

"you fucking pervert. you like this, don't you? is this pussy wet after seeing my class?"

so, he stood in front of you, grabbing her waist tightly and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

“the d-dor.” you said.

“that’s ok, i don’t care if someone see i fucking a whore.”

without a warning, he lifted your skirt and rubbed his middle finger on you wet underwear. you moaned.

“this is a good slut, i even need to prepare you with my fingers, you are so wet to my cock, desperate for me to fill you with my sperm, no?” he still rubbed, now your clit, your legs trembled and you feel that you can cum in his fingers. “we need to be faster, i said that i don’t care if someone see, but if this happened we can’t play anymore”

“p-please.” you even know for what you are asked, have jungkook brushing his middle finger on your clit is like a fucking wet dream.

“can your sweet and little pussy take my fat cock?” you feel the other hand pinched your nipple, and scream because of the pain. “a word, sweetheart, i need a word because nothing else will make me stop to fuck this hole open.”

“i dont need a w-word. i want everything.”

he pinched your clit, and you scream again, made him laugh on your ear.

“knew a dumb slut like you was good to me. desperate to feel begging me to defile this tight, no? but i need a word. but i know you won't use it, you're desperate to cry while i tear that pussy apart.” 

you said a word, nothing special just “popcorn”, don’t have a motive or anything, is just a random word that you can remember if it is necessary.

you even notice when he removed the belt and underwear, just feel he’s dick opening you without any care, it didn't hurt, you were too excited for that, of course, a slight burning but nothing that wasn't pleasurable.

“now, my favorite student, watch me dick fuck this little hole open” he said when he lifted your skirt and grabbed your leg, leaning against the table to leave you open for him. 

jungkook isn’t a ‘gentleman’ he’s fucking you like a toy, the table is shaking because the power of that he hit you and you scream everytime his ball hit in you.

you see his sucking his middle finger and you can’t understand what happens, but the confusion soon disappears when you feel him rub his finger wet with spit on you asshole.

“next time, i use this hole.”

“c-cu-”

“you gonna cum?” he let go of your waist to leave a slap on your face. “is your teacher's cock so hot that you're going to cum on it?”

“y-yeah.”

“so cum, whore!” he slap on your face again, and again.

and when the orgarms finally came, he kissed you trying to muffle your screams.

he continuous to fucking your pussy. you ruined and felt the overstimulation, your body didn't stand up, but his still fucking.

still fucking untill cum on your pussy, the white liquid oozing on you. 

the floor is a mess, the table is a mess, and you is a mess too.

you think that is over, but jungkook got on his knees and sucks you. 

making him swallow your cum and his.

“so…” she said, standing up and fixing his pants. “i want to fuck you everyday now.”

“i'll do anything for my favorite teacher.”

“so when you get home, send me a video of your shower. i will be waiting.”

🌸 . . part 2 maybe?

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 writer #bts #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook #jk x reader #jk #★... lulli writes

[cxmembert]

Live laugh love john keating but clasping your hands over the face of an anxiety riddled teenager who’s on the verge of tears as you continually bombard him with questions to make him come up with an entire poem on the spot in front of 25 classmates defo added another heap of trauma

#dead poets society #dps #dps boys #todd anderson #john keating #mr keating

[augiewrites]

"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 2)

summary: a group of boys catches y/n's eye in keating's class

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 600+

previous | next

Keating’s class wasn’t like the others at Welton. Walking into the classroom felt like a warm embrace and Keating himself stoked the fires of his students’ creativity.

But not today—not for Y/N.

They had never been so distracted in their life. Just walking into the classroom, Y/N debated asking Keating for a pass to the infirmary. Knowing they were being observed is one thing, but knowing exactly when is a whole other scenario.

Especially when they have no clue who’s eye they’re under.

Despite their nerves, Y/N took their usual seat. Two rows from the front, on the farthest row to the left. Not too close to be the center of any teacher’s impulse, but not too far away to get distracted by the rest of the class. Today was different, though. The only thing Y/N could bring themselves to care about was their classmates.

Y/N angled themselves in their seat in order to take in the classroom as students trickled in. In honesty, Y/N should have realized sooner that the culprit was in their English class—the amount of passion their classmates had shown throughout the year had never failed to take them by surprise. After all, Welton was not a place for passion.

Their eyes landed on a group of boys huddled around Knox Overstreet’s desk. Memories of the boy reciting a pathetic—albeit sweet—love poem to the class flooded their mind. The group of boys did always seem to be more enthusiastic about the class than most.

Despite telling their roommate they didn’t want to play detective, Y/N themselves straining to hear bits of their conversation—something about a book and finding a new meeting spot. They didn’t hear much as Keating entered the room and made his way to the front of the class. Charlie Dalton caught their eye as the group disbanded, sending them a wink and making a finger gun gesture at them.

Y/N couldn’t help but roll their eyes.

Dalton was a mere annoyance on a good day.

Todd Anderson walked to his seat in front of Y/N, and gave them a sheepish smile as he shrugged a shoulder in a “what can you do” gesture.

Y/N decided that was enough detective work for the period as Keating began a boisterous speech on Romantic contemporaries. All they wanted to do was lose themselves in Keating’s whimsy for the next hour, but a familiar envelope laying inside their desk compartment stopped any hope they had of forgetting about their admirer.

Moving as discreetly as possible, Y/N pulled out the letter along with their notes and textbook. The whole world muffled as they read:

From afar, I gaze, A silent, secret admiration, Your light shines bright, In my quiet contemplation.

And when you laugh, a melody, It dances in the breeze, I cherish each sweet note, With every sigh, I'm at ease.

Oh, how I wish for closeness, To bridge this gap in fate, To hold you near, not distant, To share life's love, not wait.

x, Yours.

Y/N couldn’t help the smile spreading across their face, nor the blush that accompanied it. They were so engrossed in the feeling that they didn’t notice the satisfied gaze they were receiving from afar.

The rest of the period passed in a haze, and Y/N was thankful Keating wasn’t a fan of pop quizzes. Y/N could barely focus on where they were, let alone absorb anything meaningful from the lesson.

Their eyes locked on Steven Meeks—thank God Keating had called him by name that period—shoving his notes in his backpack.

They had to act, and it was now or never.

~~~

part three

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dps boys #dps #dps fanfiction #todd anderson #neil perry #steven meeks #gerard pitts #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #todd anderson x reader #neil perry x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #dps x reader

[lunixiscool]

How I think all the poets would react to Neil and Todd coming out to them

(this is for a fic I'm writing. feel free to give any opinion you have on these hcs)

Charlie: Had suspicions but wasn't fully sure, never said anything about it though because he thinks it's not his place

Meeks: Is surprised because he just assumed they were really close because they're roommates, never really considered the possibility of them dating. He doesn't really care because he thinks what Neil and Todd do is their business and they're still his best friends

Pitts: Shares the same thoughts as Meeks. Neils a very touchy and genuine person so he never really thought about anything other than a simple friendship. (he's also very unaffected by it because there was a small week long rumor when he first came to Welton that him and Meeks were gay)

Knox: Thinks they're joking, he laughs it off until he finally thinks about them. He thinks it's a bit odd for maybe a day but he gets over it quickly, at the end of the day they're the same Neil and Todd he became best friends with and nothing will change that

Cameron: quite literally just says "okay and?". He doesn't care that they're dating, it doesn't affect him in the slightest. "them being gay doesn't make me gay so why would I care?"

Bonus

Keating: saw Neil and Todd holding hands under the lunch table one time and just smile and nodded

#dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dps fandom #dead poets #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #knox overstreet #dead poets headcanons #charlie dalton #richard cameron #gerard pitts #steven meeks #john keating #mr keating

[sugarsnappeases]

just had this thought of lily as a lit student volunteering at her local library and barty as this delinquent being assigned to do community service there. like she starts off with a bit of a ‘oh this poor criminal, i must save him’ mindset and then is constantly frustrated by barty as it’s clear that he just. doesn’t want to be saved. and he’ll deliberately mess up the book organisation systems and try to scam people by fining them when their books are nowhere near overdue so he can keep the money for himself. and lily is running around after him, huffing as she loudly puts the books back in their proper places, whacking him round the back of the head when she catches him trying to scam some old man. she’s screaming at him in the back room, leaning over him as he sits back unbothered on one of the chairs, shoving her finger in his face but he just grins and tries to bite it so she’s whacking him again and storming out bc he’s just SO infuriating. but then somehow he’s also going in depth with her about the motivations of iago in othello and whether the tragedy can be blamed entirely on him or if society itself plays a part in the plot’s development or animatedly discussing keats’ ode to a nightingale and the concept of negative capability and how it relates to the body. and she’s just completely fascinated by him, she wants to analyse him like one of the texts from her classes, she thinks she could write essay upon essay about his view of the world and the way his brain works and the tattoo she can always see just poking out of the top of his collar. and now she’s missing deadlines bc she wants to spend time w him, and laughing as he knocks over an entire bookshelf while trying to tell her about the book he’s just read, and really he doesn’t want to be saved but maybe he’s saving her instead…

#bartylily #i’ve been in the car for like seven hours now and my brain is ROTTING #it’s too dark to read my spanish poetry so my only real option is to just endlessly ponder these two #sorry about the long block of text btw but it had to be done #maybe i’ll write this properly one day… #picture me sighing and adding it to my long list of fic ideas #btw barty’s just like oooh smart sexy librarian!? mark me down as dtf #kara’s writing

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .5

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Possessive behavior; Jealousy; Size difference; Size kink; One sad horny old man; Angst!!!! that will continue just FYI no abusing poor little vic for enjoying the suffering of others :) it’s not my fault :)

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: peep the cameo!!!!!! :) 

Word Count: 6.1K

Read on AO3

.5

Vanish. Pass into nothingness: the Keats line that frightened her. Fade as the blue nights fade, go as the brightness goes. Go back into the blue. I myself placed her ashes in the wall. I myself saw the cathedral doors locked at six. I know what it is I am now experiencing. I know what the frailty is, I know what the fear is. The fear is not for what is lost. What is lost is already in the wall. What is lost is already behind the locked doors. The fear is for what is still to be lost. You may see nothing still to be lost. Yet there is no day in her life on which I do not see her.

Joan Didion, Blue Nights

Weeks pass after that night in his truck. He calls, many times, but you never answer. And it makes you feel like the worst sort of liar, but you can’t. You can’t hear the sound of his voice, it’ll ruin you, destroy your resolve, force you to your knees at his feet, which is, if you’re being honest, the only place you really want to be. It is, perhaps, the greatest struggle of your entire life, to hold on by the skin of your teeth to this idea you have of what it is he and his marriage should remain as, and what you and he should be and should not be. 

It’s Gerri’s birthday, and Tommy and her sister had decided to throw her a party at her house. Big surgeon money makes for a big fancy house, and Gerri was over the moon, filled with happiness and laughter and that wonderful brand of Gerri specific infectious glee that forces even your miserable, morose self to pull your butt out of bed and get ready to go celebrate her. She knows you’re sad, missing him, even if she doesn’t know it’s him specifically. Although, you suspect she might have an idea of it. 

She’d begged you to come during class at the start of the week, planting her stubborn butt on a stool to stare you down while the rest of your students finished up their work and then put away their materials. Please’s and threats of tears and bodily harm and promises of copious amounts of alcohol, and if you’re feeling up to it, I could even hook you up with someone – an accompanying waggle of her eyebrows. What about a surgeon? My sister knows the perfect, sexy doctor for you. You’d profusely, profusely refused that. You could not even consider another man right now, the idea was almost repulsive to you. As she begged and pleaded and whined, another one of your students had come up, eavesdropping on the pathetic display of supplication, “Come on, teach. Don’t be a sour puss, put her outta her misery, and go to the fucking party with her,” she’d laughed. One of your best students – she had the most gorgeous tattoo on the inside of her forearm of two overlapping ferns with an intricately detailed moth at the head. She’d told you once she’d sketched it herself. You’d rolled your eyes at them, sour puss, my ass. But you knew you had to get out of this hole you’d dug yourself into, and so, their teasing had gotten to you in the end – forced you to agree to the party out of sheer preservation for your reputation. Gerri’d taken to calling you the boring barnacle… yeah, and she’d never stop if you didn’t agree – would probably force all your other students into making fun of you for the rest of the semester, as well. Annoying little shit, it was very aggravating that you loved her so much. 

-

The house is stunning – big surgeon money indeed. All shining glass, sleek wood and modern edges. A huge infinity pool in the backyard, flanked by an impressively sized guest house that Gerri said she and Tommy stayed in sometimes when they got too drunk to drive home. 

There was, after all, a doctor from Andrea’s work waiting for you at their undesired and annoyingly meddlesome behest. He was nice, handsome, boring. Not tall enough, not broad enough, hair blonde and straight and kind of straw-like – no dark, silver streaked curls and deep, warm eyes. He kind of reminds you of a shiny scarecrow, if you’re being honest and not very kind. Not Joel enough. But he was nice, and seemingly interested and he’d gotten you a drink and stayed by your side all night, attentive and polite. 

You feel miserable and made out of plastic. Your smile, fake, forced, terrible. Something has to be done about this. Perhaps, electrotherapy, a lobotomy, an exorcism. Anything to get him out of your head. 

The shiny, blonde scarecrow – doctor – is telling you about his shiny, blonde family and their fancy skiing trips now, and oh, do you ski? No? I bet you’d love it – maybe I can take you one day? Never mind that you’d been born without a single athletic bone in your entire body, when, suddenly, you hear your name being barked, rough and angry, from behind you, and then a large, searing hot palm circling your bicep on one side while his other palm slides along the span of the small of your back to grip you at the bend of your waist. Fuck. 

“Joel–”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He does not look at you as he says it, but his grip on your waist tightens for one second. He’s staring down the shiny scarecrow, murder in his eyes. Oh, that look is very scary. 

“What are you doing here?” He turns the scary look on you at that, and nope, nope, it’s even scarier pointed in your direction.

“Tommy told me you were here.”

“Wh– what? Why would he tell you?” He gives you a pointed look, and you glance at the scarecrow, nervous. “You told Tommy?” you whisper back at Joel. 

Poor doctor man looks at a loss, gaze swinging back and forth between the two of you. “I’m so sorry, can you give us a minute?” you say, embarrassed. He takes one look at Joel’s terrifying face and scampers away.

-

Moron, he thinks, sour gaze following the fucker as he tucks tail and runs. He turns back to you, answering your question, “Didn’t have to, baby. He figured it out on his own. Don’t think we’ve been what one could call discreet if you’re really paying attention.”

You shut your eyes tight, bring up a shaky hand up to rub at the delicate wing of your brow. He desperately wants to smooth out the tiny frown marring the space between your eyes. 

“N– no– but,” you stutter. 

He takes the drink you’re holding out of your hand, takes a sip of it – something sweet and way too strong for your light-weight little butt. “Mm, he get that for you?”

You scrunch your nose up at him, and he knows he’s meant to take it as a sign of your annoyance, but all he can think is that you’re too adorable for your own good. “Wh– I– you overbearing, ridiculous – give that back!” you frown up at him as he holds it out of your reach. He sets the glass on a table behind you.

“Hmm–” His big hands span the width of your waist, can’t help himself, you’re so small compared to him. It makes his cock so hard. “Let me talk to you, please. Let’s go somewhere quiet.” He doesn’t care that he’s not supposed to be here, that he shouldn’t be bothering you, he’s reached the end of his rope. 

“No – go away. It’s– it’s Gerri’s birthday.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he pulls you further into his chest. “I’m supposed to be having fun. She said she’d be mad if I didn’t have fun.” There are already overwhelmed tears in your eyes, and if he wasn’t so fucking desperate to see you, to talk to you after all these weeks of you ignoring him, he’d run away. Far, far away, where he can never make you cry again. 

“Just for a little bit, please,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, causing the little wisps of hair there to flutter. 

You shiver. “Where– where’s Sarah?” You bring your small hand up to clutch at his beard, cup his jaw, and scratch your nails gently down the side of his cheek, and fuck, he’s ready to burst, just with that, even as your other hand feebly tries to push at his chest. He slides a hand low on your back to press your pelvis into his. 

“Baby-sitter.” Hearing you ask after his daughter has that soft spot behind his ribs where you live now, burn and pinch painfully. 

“And–” 

He cuts you off, doesn’t want to hear you talking about her. “Gone for the weekend – work conference.” Not that he believed that.

You open your eyes again, the tears lining your lashes make them almost glow in your skull. He can’t help himself, he bends to press a soft kiss over your eye, feels the whispering, wet flutter of your long lashes against his mouth. You let out a broken mewl for him – full of all your matched wanting. “F– fine. We’ll– we’ll just talk.”

Just talk, just talk, just talk. 

He can feel the pulse of his blood beat through the line of his erection against his thigh. He wraps his hand around yours and starts leading you through the house, spots Tommy at the back of the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking to someone. His brother takes in the two of you together, gives him a subtle nod, inclines his head towards the backyard – the guest house where Joel was headed. Tommy had known, since that day so long ago when Joel had tried to discreetly tag along to the college – hoping to get a glimpse of you, he’d known there was something. Nothing discreet about your half assed excuses, reeked’a desperation, he’d said. His brother wanted him to be happy, to have a good, fulfilling relationship. He’d been telling Joel to get a lawyer for months, had been the first to tell him to not get married. He’d help him now, give the two of you time to sort this out. He knows just how insane Joel had been these past few weeks, like a caged animal, pacing and hissing at not being able to get at you. 

He steps out the back door and pulls you towards the guest house. He’d been here once, months ago, helping Gerri’s sister out with a repair she’d needed. The two of you would have privacy there to talk, for you to finally stop avoiding him. He needs to speak to you, touch you, smell you. He was going out of his goddamn mind thinking about you, dreaming about you. His cock, constantly at half mast and leaking, at all hours of the day, just at your memory. Desperate, that’s what he is, he’s desperate for you. 

“Who was that guy?”

“Who?” Your voice is anxious, breath hitching. He knows you’re twisting yourself up in knots, and he turns to pull you into his arms now, in the privacy of the dark room, lit only by the light of the moon spilling through the large bay windows. 

“The one you were talking to.” He draws his palm slowly up and down the line of your spine, feelings the little bumps and jitters of your trembling form. Skittish little rabbit. He rubs his mouth over the line of your hair, baby soft wisps tickling his nose and mouth. You smell so good, he wants to rub himself all over you like some sort of animal – mark his territory.

“Wh– I– You cannot be serious right now.” You push at him, turn to move away, but he catches you around the bend of your elbow, tugging you back forcefully into his chest. He presses his front along the line of your back, grips your hip to bring your ass into the hard line of his cock. 

“Does this feel serious to you?” He’s hard as stone, throbbing beneath his jeans. 

“Oh God, Joel–”

“Don’t want you talkin’ to other men, thinking about any other men. I know it sounds insane – can’t help it, I’m sorry.”

“I– I don’t think about anyone else but you,” you whimper. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, brings one large hand up to cradle the weight of your breast and squeeze. He can feel the stiff little furl of your nipple through your dress. He feels a little unhinged right now, overwhelmed by the feel and scent of you. “I miss you,” he whispers. “Have you missed me?” He presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear that has a violent shiver jerking down your vertebrae, you grind your ass harder into him, give him the sweetest little moan. “All I do is think about you.”

“I did, I did– I miss you so much. I wanted to talk to you, I did,” you whimper, “But– but we shouldn’t, Joel,” you say at the same time as your hand comes up and around to twist into the curls at the back of his head. He turns your head with his hand wrapped around your jaw, his entire palm cups around your neck to your cheek, thumb pressing harshly into the corner of your mouth to angle you exactly how he wants you, and then he’s tasting behind your teeth, the wet lick of his tongue into yours sends a bolt of lust straight through him, almost bringing him to his knees. He moans, deep and rumbling into your panting mouth, and your answering keen has the dribble of his precum sliding down his thigh. He needs to be closer, he needs to be inside. Fuck, he’s in danger of coming just from this, just from the sweet taste of you, your little moans, all for him. 

“Did you like that boy? Think he was nice, hmm?”

“Wha– No– no, Joel. I don’t even know him.” Brow scrunching into the most adorable little frown he’s ever seen. You blink your lashes at him, eyes glassy and slightly dazed. 

He snakes his other hand down the front of your dress and under the lace of your panties, cupping the entirety of your mound in his palm. Fuck, you’re soaked and he’s touching you, finally, finally, he’s touching you here. 

“Is all this wet for him or for me?” he says softly, dipping a single finger into your seam, a ghost of a touch over the bud of your clit. Fuck, you’re soft. Soft and swollen and soaking wet. He never wants to see you near another man again, it’s unreasonable, insane, he knows this. But the dilemma of having seen you, tasted you, felt you, but only by half measures, not really having you, well… it sets the stage for insanity. This he cannot help. 

“For you, for you– please, Joel. Just–”

“She’s drooling for me, baby.”

“Don’t be mean,” you cry.

“Will you let me make you feel good, sweet girl? Please, I just want to make you feel good.” He presses wet kisses over your cheek, down your neck to lick into the hollow of your collarbone. Your hips hitch in little grinds trying to gain more purchase against his palm, and he circles your clit slowly. You’re fucking dripping, and he moves down to press over your entrance, gives you the slightest hint of everything else he’d like to give you. 

“Oh, please–” He slides two of his fingers into the last knuckle then, to the hilt. You’re so wet, there’s no resistance at all. Your cunt swallows his fingers whole, and the both of you let out ragged moans in tandem. You’re fucking tight, and he needs to feel you around his cock, he has to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’ll die.

“We– we were supposed t– to talk,” you stutter, little cunt grinding down as hard as you can on his thrusting fingers. The wet squelch is deafening and obscene in the quiet of the guest house, and he can almost feel the steam of your lust and embarrassment at the sound rolling off of your skin like heat waves. 

“Yeah, yeah, baby. We’ll talk in a second.” He licks a long wet swipe along the edge of your jaw, bites down harshly, and he can feel the tight clench of your cunt at the small hurt. He pulls his fingers from you, and you let out a protesting mewl, but then he’s spinning you in his arms and kissing you. Something savage and uncontrolled rising up inside of him. He half carries, half drags you down the hall to the bedroom he knows is at the back of the house, pulls the neckline of your dress down to get at your tits, sucking and nipping as much of the soft flesh he can get at. All the previous moments of restraint, of not touching, of just watching, have turned him into this uncontrolled beast. He can feel your little feel dangling off the ground, over his boots. He almost stumbles as you lose one of your sandals, stepping over your shoe, and gripping the back of your thigh to hoist you up higher, grinding you against his length. 

He sets you down on the bed, pushing you back to lay across it as he tugs the soft cups of your bra down to get at your bare tits, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth and pulling hard on the tip. So fucking beautiful. He swirls his tongue around your softness, kisses the underside of it, nips at the full, round side, switches to give the other one the same attention. You’re whining and crying out for him, almost sobbing. So sensitive, so sensitive – little fingers twisted in his hair to pull him closer, but he’s moving down, pulling away from your searching mouth and lifting the hem of your dress. He bends to bury his face in the soft apex of your thighs and breathes deep – satisfaction, hunger, rumbling through his chest. You smell so fucking good. He sticks his tongue out to lick at your slit over the lace of your soft, pink panties, sweet, little bow adorning the front of them. 

“Hush, lemme kiss your pussy for a little bit,” he soothes, “Don’t cry,” and you’re spreading your legs immediately at that. Good girl. 

He hooks his fingers under the soaking wet center plaque of your panties to pull it aside and drags the flat of his tongue right through your seam. Fuck, fuck. He shuts your legs to rip the fabric down your legs and then rips them open again to get at your cunt. Your back arches, curved tight like a bow string, and you spread your legs wider for him, tug on his hair to urge him closer. He settles between the space you’ve made for him – thinks that he just might like to live here for the rest of his life. He sucks your clit into his mouth and starts to press a single finger inside, giving you something to bear down on.

“God, Joel–” your gasps are wet, on the verge of overwhelmed tears, or already there, perhaps, “Feels so– so good.”

“Taste so fucking good–” He starts to fuck you with his finger, adding another, giving you more to stretch around. You’re so wet, leaking down to pool in his palm, and he focuses on your sensitive little nub, licking and sucking and kissing it, all while he watches the heave and tremble of your breasts, back arched so that you can rock into his ministrations. 

“Oh, I’m– I’m gonna come.” Yes, already, “I’m gonna–” He can feel the ripple and throb of your inner muscles working around his thrusting fingers, he hooks them against the deep, spongy spot at the front of your walls and sucks on your clit. Everything goes tight and liquid inside of you. The rapid flutter of your muscles trying to suck his fingers deeper, as you gush into his mouth, has all the blood rushing from his head to his dick so quickly he feels slightly faint. He licks you through it, gentling the thrust of his fingers but not stopping. Your restless legs shift around him, too much, and then he’s shifting back up to you, a bite to your nipple, a kiss pressed to the underside of your jaw, and he’s pulling you down the bed so your ass is right at the edge and tugging at his zipper, pulling his boxers down to free his aching cock and heavy balls. Fist clenched tight around himself, he jacks it once, twice and then presses the angry, red head to your clit, slides the underside of it through your cleft to feel the heat and wetness. Shit, your skin is scorching hot, soaked, and he can see the slight clench of your hole, begging to be filled. 

“Joel, please I– I want–”

“Fuck – will you let me– will you let me put it in? Just a little bit?” He’s thrusting against the slick red of you, palm pressed against the shaft to create friction on either side. On every pull back his head catches the smallest bit at your entrance, and fuck, fuck, it would be so easy, so good, “Just– just for a second, baby, please? Just the tip?”

“I – I don’t– I–” The head catches more fully, the wide tip of it giving you just the first slight stretch of it. “Oh, please–” Please, please, please. 

He feeds you the first inch – eyes glued to the way your little hole stretches obscenely around his fat girth, “Shit,” he snarls. He fucks you just like that, with just the tip and you try and arch even more, impossible, you’re already pulled tight as an arc, trying to take him deeper, and then your knee is hitching against his hip and pressing him in closer. He slides all the way inside, to the very end of you, in one smooth, devastating go. He feels his tip bump against the mouth of your womb, and your shared moan is pained and ragged. Your fluttering lids springing all the way open, eyes wide, almost shocked. The look shared between the two of you – incredulous, as if neither of you knew – had ever occurred to you – that something in this world could ever feel this good. 

He buries his face in your neck, shuts his eyes tight. Fuck, he’s gonna come, he’s gonna come. Your gasping moans, the lush press of your breasts to his chest, the fluttering of your cunt around him – nothing in all his life has ever felt like this. There’s a pain, deep in his chest, in a place he didn’t even know existed. This is like nothing else that has ever existed in this world. He’ll never be able to let you go after this, never, never. 

He wraps his hand around your throat, tries to settle you. “Don’t– don’t move, don’t make a sound–”

“I can’t– I can’t– You’re so deep.” Your legs kick restlessly around him.

“Baby, shut up, please,” he begs, he cannot come yet, he cannot. This is the first time in over three years he’s been inside of a woman, the first time he’s been inside of you. He cannot ruin it with a happy trigger finger. You’re clawing at his back, gasping and crying for him to move, to fuck you, please, please, please, fuck me. He slides a hand under your butt and lifts you slightly off the bed to bring you closer to him, grinds his cock deep, deep, right at your cervix so that you’re crying for real now. 

“Too much, too much,” you clutch tightly at his bicep, going back and forth between trying to push him away and pull him closer. He can feel the wet press of your tears sliding along his cheek, over his mouth, and he licks his lips to taste them, has his eyes rolling to the back of his head at their saltiness. He hitches you more firmly in his grasp and starts to fuck you. His thrusts, deep and devastating, punching all air, voice, thought out of you, heavy balls slapping wetly against your ass.

“You can take it, you can take it. You can take anything I give you. You’re my pretty, perfect girl,” he grits, pulls himself up so he can stare at the place where you’re taking him, puffy, red cunt stretched obscenely around his slick base. 

“You feel so good– I can’t, I can’t– What are we going to do? What are we going to do? It feels so good.” You’re crying, incoherent, fucked out look in your eyes as you claw at his shirt, little nails scraping over his belly and chest. He grips you under one knee to pull your leg up, hooking your ankle over his shoulder to deepen the angle. You come again, instantly, just at the change, the deepening of the angle, the head of his cock battering savagely against that deep, soft spot inside you.

“Fuck, yeah. Let me feel that cunt get wet, little girl.” Your mewls are high pitched, supplicant, and you gush around him. He feels it soak his pelvis, drip down his balls.

No one’s ever been this deep, nothing’s ever felt like this, you say, over and over again. 

He plants one knee on the bed and hunches over you, ankle still dangling limply over his shoulder and pounds into you. The feel of your cunt rippling around him, sucking him deeper is too much. He wishes he could last longer, feel you come around him again. What if you never let him do this again? What if you never want him again after this? What if it’s just a one time thing? He’ll never get over this, he’ll never be able to move on from this. He can’t hold back, he starts to fill you, hot thick spurts coating your insides, and you moan again at the searing heat of him, right at the mouth of your womb, grinds deep, deeper, as deep as he can, the contractions of your inner muscles pulling him in. He wishes he could crawl beneath your skin, live inside of you, make a home for himself behind the safe cage of your ribs, and he thinks that you’re right, nothing has ever felt like this, nothing will ever feel like this again. 

He’s ruined now. You’ve ruined him

He collapses on top of you, wants to crush you with his heavy weight, meld your chests together so that you’ll have to be with him forever after this. He presses wet, breathless kisses to the vulnerable underside of your jaw, behind your ear where your scent is the most concentrated, breathes you in deeply. You wrap your arms and legs around him, and he can feel the clench of your inner muscles around his softening cock. He hasn’t done this in a long time, he wonders what his refractory period is now, if he’ll be able to go again soon, if you’ll let him. 

“I wanted that so badly,” you whisper, nuzzle your nose into his hair. 

“Me too, sweetheart.” 

“I’m scared.”

“You have nothing to be scared of. I would never hurt you,” he promises because it’s the truth. He’d never do anything to purposely hurt you. 

“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” you say quietly, “I– I don’t–”

He slides his hand under you to press you closer. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.” He angles your head to give himself access to your mouth, starts his kiss out soft and gentle, slotting your full upper lip between both of his to pepper soft little pecks and sucks to it, then tilts his head to get a deeper angle and lick into you. 

You’re completely relaxed beneath him. Soft and warm and wet, entirely pliant. So sweet. It’s one of the things he loves most about you, how sweet you are. Sweet and kind and earnest – tenderhearted. You’re right, in a way, this is something to be afraid of. The things he feels for you – the depth of it, it’s not something he was expecting, not prepared for, but he’s certain there isn’t a way of stopping it now. This is what it is, will go where it was always going to go, from the first moment he saw you, touched you, tasted you. 

“What are we going to do?”

“I want to tell her.” It’s the only truth, the only road he wants to go down. He wants to be with you, he wants this out in the open. “You aren’t a secret to be kept or hidden. You deserve to be cherished out in the open.”

Your tears spill harder at that, “Joel–”

“Baby,” he lifts up slightly to look at you, “This is it.”

You turn to look away and he feels dread coil in his gut. If you pull away from him now he’ll lose his mind. He isn’t prepared for this, he isn’t the type of man who’s ever had to deal with this type of feeling. “I – I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I– I don’t want–”

“You don’t want what?” he brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face, runs the tip of his finger along the arch of your brow, down the slope of your nose. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he says, because it’s the truth. In this moment, he thinks he’d do anything at all you’d ask of him. Open his very veins for you. You have him speared by the heart, eating out of the palm of your small hand. 

“I don’t want to be the reason your marriage ends,” your brow crumples, “I told you. I– I can’t be. I couldn’t live with that.”

“My marriage never really began to start with. I told you that.” He moves to pull out, both of you groaning softly at the sensitive slide of his cock slipping out of you, the slick gush that follows. He sits back on his heels, grips both of your knees to keep you spread and enjoy the sight of the viscous drip of his spend out of your messy hole. He wants to bend to eat his own come out of you. You’ve turned him into some sort of beast, subjugated to the scent and sound and feel of your body. But instead he turns to sit at the edge of the bed, tucks himself back into his jeans. He leans forward, elbows resting against his spread knees, and drags his palm over his face, rubs the scruff of his beard. He feels you turn to curve around him, your hand snaking up the back of his shirt to press your palm against his hot skin, your knees curling into his lap around his waist. “It was never – it was never– I don’t even know. Never a real marriage, I suppose. Or never something either of us wanted for the right reasons. I – I felt like it was the right thing to do, at the time, for Sarah. I told you this. But– but it was never how it should’ve been. I worry now, sometimes, if we haven’t just done more damage to her, built a foundation that’s so rotten, so broken, that she’ll be able to feel it for the rest of her life.”

“Joel,” you whisper, dragging your fingers softly up and down his back. 

“She was born into a broken home – how can I ever– how can I ever make that up to her?” He turns back to look at you then, “A home where her parents never loved each other – barely even tolerated each other. What is that gonna do to her? What will that teach her about love and relationships?” He grips you around the bend of your knee, anchors himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his rough palm. 

“I think that, from– from experience, that it will be enough for her to know that she has you, that you love her, that you’ll always be there for her. You’re a good father, Joel. A– a wonderful father. She’s so, so lucky to have you.” And the look in your eyes as you say this to him is so earnest, so sincere and kind that he knows, in that very instant, that he’s falling in love with you, that he is already in love with you. He folds over to press his face into your belly, hug you tight to himself. “Your love for her will teach her what love is supposed to be. Honest, forgiving, patient. She doesn’t need any other example than that. That’s enough for a little girl, trust me.” You drag your nails gently along his scalp. 

He presses a kiss to your belly, another to your still bared breast. He rests his cheek on your chest to look up at you. “Thank you. Thank you for that.” What he really wants to say is, thank you for existing, thank you for finding me, thank you for being magic, thank you for letting me touch you. Please, let me keep even one small piece of you, I’ll take such good care of it for the rest of my life, I promise.

“But you– you can’t tell your wife about this, can’t– can’t leave her for me. That isn’t– that isn’t ever what I wanted, or– or set out to do. I told you why, I explained this to you.” He watches a bright flush flood your cheeks, brow folding into a frown as you stutter out the words. “I don’t want you to do that.”

“What’s left of this marriage is going to end either way. It’s only a matter of time.”

“But not for me. Not because of me, or for you to run straight to me. I can’t– I couldn’t live knowing I’d done that.”

“You haven’t done anything. This was done a long time ago, the foundation was damaged from the start.”

“N– no, still. I can’t.” You shift away from him, sit up to right your clothes. There is a part of you that hums the sounds of uncertainty, he can hear it in your voice, but it is so quiet in the face of everything else. The echo of your screeching guilt and fear so loud, it overwhelms everything else. 

“So, then what? This was just a one time thing? You want nothing more from this? From me?” He spits, hurt. He knows he should be gentle, not get angry, but the thought of you taking yourself away from him now makes panic climb like fire up his chest and throat. 

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, face still turned away from him. “I– I can’t tell you that right now. But I do know that I don’t want you to tell your wife, or to leave her for me.”

“So you think I should stay with her? Even though we’re both miserable. Even though all I want is to be with you. That’s what you want me to do?”

You let out a hoarse, anguished little sound at that, but then: “That’s not for me to say.” Your voice sounds broken, jagged, lacerating. “That isn’t my business,” you say so quietly, almost like you’re afraid to utter the words out loud, know what a lie they are. But he hears it. Loud and clear, like a slap to the face. 

“Not your business?”

“I should get back.” You stand to right your dress, he watches your shaking knees knock together, and he reaches out to catch you if you need him, but you steady yourself on your own. When you finally turn back to look at him, there are tears streaming down your face. In some sick, twisted way, the sight of them is a comfort. They tell him that this isn’t what you really want, that your words hurt you too. In a way, they help him understand you better, as well. You’re trying to do what you think is the right thing, as wrong as it is for all of you involved. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, wringing your hands together. He only nods. You go to clean yourself up in the restroom, shutting the door quietly behind you.

-

When you step back out into the bedroom, he’s already gone, but there’s a glass of water left waiting for you on the bedside table. 

Chapter .6

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

[sleepy-gee]

cutesy dps headcanons because why not

neil used to pretend that he didn't know how to tie his tie to get todd to do it for him. he found it odd but did it without complaint

when neil finally does start to tie his own ties, todd turns into a proud mother and smiles like silly

charlie has specialized nicknames for all of the poets + gets offended when anyone else uses them (think dean with other people calling sam 'sammy')

cameron is the jacket king. he has 50 million tucked away in his closet. always brings extras on cold nights for the other poets

meeks' favorite class is choir, my man loves to sing!! he often gets caught by the others humming or singing to himself

pitts is the kind of guy to get offended when someone 'ruins' a book, whether that be annotating or dog earing the corner of their pages. he carries bookmarks for this very reason

meeks is the complete opposite. he has no problem with annotating his book/dog earing the pages

they fight over that all the time

todd can play guitar at a pretty decent level

he plays and meeks sings :]

mr. keating makes his students hot chocolate on cold days/rough days (like the day before a test or during finals week)

knox is extremely ticklish

cameron and todd snort when they laugh

cameron doesn't care while todd is absolutely mortified by it

neil is unfortunately tone deaf. doesn't stop him from loving music tho

pitts and charlie are the kings of dad jokes. they can go back and forth for hours, to the annoyance of the poets.

#dead poets society #dps #dead poets society fandom #dps fandom #dead poets society headcanons #dps headcanons #dps boys #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #steven meeks #richard cameron

[sallymareeq]

Under the Willow Tree

⚠️18+ [Minors DNI]⚠️

Summary:

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

Notes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Wow’ he sighed

‘Wow’ you looked into his adoring eyes.

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

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

He glanced up again questioningly,

‘Please Todd’ you whispered ‘Touch me’

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

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

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

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

‘Whitman’ He smiled

‘i fear i am in love’ you mused

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I have never done this before’

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

And you trusted him to do so.

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

‘Mm yes, perfect’

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

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

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

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

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

‘Oh my- that was perfect’ Todd spoke

His eyes scanned your body

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

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

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

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

‘Good or bad?��� he questioned,

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

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

‘Todd’ you said softly,

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

‘Im a virgin’ you breathed against his lips,

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

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

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

‘Please Todd- Please’ you whined biting your lip

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

‘Faster’ you panted.

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

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

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

‘Todd i need you’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled as you passed him his pants.

He redressed clumsily as you gathered your clothes and jumpers.

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled ‘you look like a woodland nymph’

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

‘You're so very pretty Todd’

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

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

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello, how are you? I wanted to know if you could make an imagine where the reader is admiring the beauty of Morpheus' lips, please. great party and thank you

A Thing Of Beauty

Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: Head empty, only Dream.

Word Count: >500

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, touch deprived!dream, dream needs words of affirmation asap, simp!reader (me), fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: the title is also an excerpt from john keats work Endymion. just wanted to say although this has nothing to do with it Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

Dream sighed. He exhaled what felt like the weight of the cosmos through his delicate lips and closed his heavy eyes. He had been going through much of his tasks in his throne room. I was gladly spectating it all.

I looked at the curve of his nose, the way it sloped and pointed. I looked at the curl of his lashes, recalling how I'd witnessed it laced with snowflakes... laced with tears.

He rolled his arm atop the armrest on the throne, palm now upturned. He spoke nothing but I knew he was reaching out to me.

I had been on a tiny stool by his side the entire time. He offered to manifest another throne by his side, but I thought it would be too much. I reached out for his hand then kissed his pulse.

"Come to me," he whispers. He does it in a way that commands all the attention, and alerts all the Dreaming. Still, it was only a whisper.

I stand. The next moment my stool is gone. I circle over to him and make myself comfy on his lap. He pulls me close and seals me in his arms. I prop an arm around his shoulders and kiss his jaw. I retrace the area with my finger.

I do the same with his nose, with his cheek, with his brows, with his lips. He kisses my finger after the fact.

My hand then slides down to his neck, then his shoulder. I massage the area, the knot on his form. He sighs and pulls me closer to him, allowing himself to lean against me.

I feel his hot breath when he mutters, "what are you thinking?"

I barely chuckle, "don't you already know?"

"Narrate your thoughts," he says, "I wish to hear your musings of me."

I cannot hold back my laugh. I pull his face close to kiss his cheek, "what makes you think I'm thinking of you?"

The King of Dreams and Nightmares allows himself an airy chuckle, "it would be my complete devastation if the scent of your redolent thoughts were of anything but of me," he opens his eyes and looks at my face, "a desecration in my throne room, no less."

I give him a thoughtful look, "thoughts have smell?"

"And yours are the sweetest," he brings his face near mine, "when you think of me."

My nostrils flare and I shake my head. I brush my nose against him, "well, my lord, if you must know," I smile, tilting my head, "I was thinking of just how pretty you are."

Dream's lips curve into a soft smirk.

I snort and roll my eyes, "I feel like I should take that back. Your head is already too big for your body."

He pulls me tighter against him when I try to pull away. His brows furrow in offence.

I am repositioned on him, from how I was cradled to my side, I was now being pulled to his chest with my back to him. He presses a kiss on my nape then breathes out, "tell me how pretty I am."

I break into a loud laugh. I lean against him as my amusement slowly dies down. I crane my neck to look at his face, "like... so pretty."

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #the sandman x reader #morpheus fluff #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you

[desire-mona]

realising none of u have seen my writing before which is. a good thing probably. anyway i thrive best in letter writing format so here's a letter todd wrote to neil after he took a gun induced nap

(obvious tw for death and suicide and general grief adjacent feelings)

-

December 20th, 1959

Neil,

I’ve tried to write this about 7 separate times now, but I feel like I can never get the right combination of words to properly describe how I’m feeling. I don't really know why I’m writing this in the first place, I know you won't be able to read it. I guess I don't need a reason. I don't think I’ll be able to get it right no matter how many times I try, so forgive me if this doesn't make sense.

It's been about 5 days since you killed yourself passed and I still can't confidently say that it feels real. Mr. Keating got fired, Charlie got expelled, Cameron was behind all of it, and I can’t even bring myself to hate him for it. I'm angry, obviously, I’ve never been more furious with anyone in my life, but something in me knows that you wouldn't have hated him either. Things like that have been running through my mind a lot, I find myself operating under what I think you would’ve done, or at least wanted me to do. I hope I’m getting it right. I yelled at Cameron after he ratted us out, and it wasn't like those times before, nobody expected it of me. I like to think you would’ve been proud of me for that.

It's really quiet without you here, in ways that I didn't think I’d notice. You were never all that loud, which I appreciated, but even the small things being gone make me feel like I'm going insane. It's hard getting to sleep without hearing your breathing from across the room. Is that creepy? Sorry. Sometimes I open the window just so I can hear anything but silence. I usually just end up wondering how people can go about their days when someone so important is dead. How are people laughing and enjoying themselves when it feels like my entire world came to a screeching halt? How dare they continue with their lives without even acknowledging how much has changed? That’s about when I close the window, our the room starts to get cold after a while.

I'm trying to stay that more confident version of myself that you were helping me become, I could tell you liked a more outgoing Todd. I think he was buried with you, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to dig him back up. I hope that’s okay, I know how patient you were with me. Thank you for that by the way, you were the first person to give me the time of day when it came to that. It was really special, I wish I had the chance to tell you. There are a lot of things I wish I had the chance to tell you, you were the only person I ever wanted to say things like that to. I'm really sorry that I never did, I realize now that it probably would’ve done you some good to hear it. God only knows how little kindness your father gave you, if I had known how bad it was then I would’ve you deserved better than that. You deserved a lot more than what the world gave you, I think we all do. No amount of sorry’s can fix that.

I miss being near you.

I miss you.

I miss having you around. I’d forgive you if you came back and told us it was all a joke. I wouldn’t be mad at all, I promise.

- Todd Anderson

#desire mona #ugh idk how i feel abt this sorry #is it even in character? #whatever #dead poets society #todd anderson #neil perry #anderperry #writin

[hyperraduo22]

my dps roman empires

cuz i keep seeing those videos with my love mine all mine on my feed with consistently ugly-sob-inducing stories and roman empires so now i have this long list i wanna share

+ may include some little facts here and there for anyone new in the fandom

• anderperry’s entire relationship and dynamic

literally no explanation needed on why it’s the top of the list and the first thing i wrote down

the whole hourglass and icarus x the sun dynamics makes me sob every time without fail

someone rewrite the script so they have a happy ending please

also me: wym they already do?? they got married and went to new york??????

• charlie and neil :(((

• thinking about charlie’s experience and dealing with grief post-expulsion

• todd’s entire character

bro makes my quiet x anxious kid heart go brrr

like just thinking about the little implications of his behavior and what’s said about his brother in the script makes me wanna cry and scream and throw a tantrum

he really represents the epitome of all quiet shy kids out there and i really appreciate it

• dead poet’s society but from cameron’s perspective

i understand y’all wanting to punch and yell at him and show no forgiveness but i also think you should give a bit of sympathy for this kid

he doesn’t know any better just like charlie or any of the other poets

damn this movie does a great job of showing reality and the fact that there’s no real enemies

• dead poet’s society but from pitts’s perspective 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

like i’d pay to see this honestly

• pitts’s screen time :((((

my underrated boy :(((((

• pitts and cameron’s dynamic

i KNOW we see these two talking in the background and seeing him make cameron laugh and smile the most compared to everyone else

like??? i wanna see more?????

cameron being outwardly comfortable around someone finally???

• the fact that all the movie's events ensued as they’re all high schoolers

like idk if there’s a canonical age for any of them but whether they’re juniors or seniors the trauma is still the same

• the thoughts of the kids who stood up on their desks at the end of the movie

how are they dealing with keating being away now? how do they view life in general?? did they really appreciate keatings class???? would they join the dps if they had the chance???????

• hopkins’s portrayal

its kind of a 50/50 since bro barely has screen time, yet i see his character oftentimes being portrayed as the class asshole

i think it’s clear that him and his friends commit tomfoolery and are overall jerks but to think that he’s the more sensible, level-headed guy makes a lot of sense to me—kinda similar to charlie in a way

like he knows limits and when to not push them even if he doesn’t come off that way. all bro does is chill in class and stare off into the windows daydreaming (as shown in the whole ripping out the poetry intro scene). bro doesn’t wanna be there. he’s just chilling and honestly same💀

• spencer’s actual treatment in the movie

ik we love this man, and our headcanons (or at least what i’ve seen and my own for the most part) say that people treat him well but low key everyone be on his shit

like it brings up the question of whether or not this is considered bullying cause any scene i see he’s either blatantly shoved around or even the guys around him purposely steal his medicine and pass it around so he can’t have it (including stick participating in this)-

like i think there’s some limits to being a jerk and idk how spencer really feels throughout the movie cuz he’s a background character :////

• HANDSOME ASS BACKGROUND CHARACTERS AND THEIR SCREEN TIMES = UNFAIR! CRIMINAL !!!!!

• the fact that ginny’s character just gets completely cutout. like she has a few lines to begin with and then the movie comes out and she ends up being a non-speaking extra in the play like i’m- what happened???

• tina and gloria / girl characters portrayed in dps in general

let me explain cuz i love them but also feel bad for their characters

like low key they’re just used as experiments for the cave (implied by charlie in a deleted scene that wasn’t recovered although i think this part is in the original script as well if i remember correctly)

although he brings them back a second time in a deleted scene where they’re all dancing around outside of the cave on the night of the play only for him to make out with one of them in another deleted scene that wasn’t recovered… (( this was revealed in an old interview on someone working behind the scenes btw ))

so like i kinda feel bad for them. like y’all just there for show but i wish you had more lines and other purposes besides possibly not passing a bechdel test ://////

^ lowkey this same concept is kinda seen with chris’s character too. like all she’s there for is a romantic interest for knox. like cmon now she’s one of the main female characters and THIS is what she gets. i wanna know more about my girl chris!!!!

and i kind of understand why it’s set up this way since y’know it’s an all male boarding school in the 1950s—how do you fit female characters in and how are they viewed? it’s not the greatest setup of all time

• ANDERPERRY DELETED SCENE ON THE DOCK NOT MAKING IT INTO THE FILM LIKE OUT OF ALL DELETED SCENES THAT ONE IS THE REALLY IMPORTANT ONE !!!!!!!!!!!!!

• the deleted scene of the poets carrying neil’s coffin 🚶‍♂️

like goodbye. doors closed. tears shed.

kinda glad it’s not in the movie cuz i would’ve sobbed uncontrollably even more than neil’s death

• todd’s poem

another deleted scene that really rearranges my internal organs

the fact that him reading this poem was supposed to be in tandem/include shots with neil’s death-

why do the writers want us to cry rivers?????

BUT ALSO ITS FUNNY ASF IF YALL WATCH THIS DELETED SCENE WHEN TODD IS TELLING THEM WHAT TO REPEAT BETWEEN VERSES, ONE OF THE POETS GOES “what??🤨”

I’M SORRY TODD IK YOURE TRYING BUT THAT LITTLE AIRHEADED ASS “what?” IS SO FUNNY TO ME

• the fact that in the very first version of the script, keating was supposed to have cancer

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS UNTIL LAST MINUTE

LIKE Y’ALL ADMITTED THAT YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SCENE OF KEATING DYING IN A HOSPITAL AND WERE PONDERING ON WHETHER HIS CHARACTER SHOULD HAVE A FATAL ILLNESS FOR THREE DAYS ?!?!?

thank god y’all made the right decision and rewrote the script to take that out

#dps tumblr #dead poets society #dps fandom #dead poets fandom #dps #dps boys #todd anderson #charlie dalton #john keating #mr keating #neil perry #anderperry #chris noel #gerard pitts #pitts dps #cameron dps