Dead Poets Society Imagines/Preferences

Pitts/Reader

Adore You

You walked the halls of Welton Acadmey, you were Mr. Nolan's grandson do you had special privileges. One of them being able to get out of the dorms at midnight just to walk. Your mom and dad had passed earlier that year.

You were pulled away from your thoughts when you heard laughter and footsteps. You looked around trying to find the source of the noise when a group of boys appeared, shocked to see you.

"It's Nolan's kid," one of them whispered. You stared at the confused. They stood there awkwardly and scared.

"What are you guys doing out of bed?" You whispered looking at them. They looked at each other before one of them decided to speak.

"A meeting?" They said, he earned groans and sighs from the rest of his group.

"A meeting? For what?" You asked walking close to them. They looked at each other and then back to the person who spoke.

"A Dead Poets meeting..." Again his friends groaned and sighed some even shook their heads.

"What's that? A secret club?" You asked this time intrigued. He nodded and you grinned, "I'd like to join your secret club."

"You can't," another butt in.

"Why? Is there a sort of initiation? A ritual of some sort?" You chuckled.

"You're Nolan's kid. You might fink and tell him." The boy continued and your expression dropped.

"I won't tell, Nolan won't go any easier on me if he found out." You sighed looking at the ground. "Whatever though, pretend you didn't see me and I'll pretend I didn't see you."

With that you began to walk away from the group, obviously hurt that they would think of you so low like that.

"Wait!" One of them said, the tell brunette boy from earlier stopped you. "You can join, just tonight. If the rest of the group likes you then you can stay."

He smiled at you and you blushed looking down that in his eyes. You nodded and followed him back to the rest of the group of his friends.

"My names Gerard Pitts, by the way." He smiled and you nodded.

"I'm (Y/n) Nolan, but you probably already knew that," you chuckled and he nodded smiling.

"Welcome to the cave," a brunette boy said, you knew him, that's Neil Perry. He's in your English and Latin class.

"It's nice to be invited to your cave." You smiled entering, the rest of the group following behind you.

"Let's get this meeting going," the raven haired boy smirked holding up his saxophone. "Poetrusics, by Charles Dalton."

He began to play his saxophone, tumbling, mumbling. Gotta be more gotta do more.

Gerard looked at you as Charlie played his saxophone in front of him. This caused him to laugh as Charlie resumed with his saxophone playing.

He was unexpectedly amazing at the saxophone. No doubt he was the artistic one from the group, if this weren't an elite school then he'd probably be a greaser or something.

"He's really good," you whispered to Pitts who nodded with a smile.

"He never struck me as a guy who played the saxophone." He whispered laughing and you nodded.

"He definitely gave me saxophone player vibes, it's honestly cool," you whispered back. That's before a light brown haired boy stood up dramatically. He began talking about someone named Chris and dying if he weren't with them.