poeta nascitur, non fit ~ steven meeks x fem!reader

long live (y/n), Queen of hell-ton~

song of the chapter: loverboy by a-wall

a/n: also, this chapter is lovingly dedicated to the wonderful @junobirchasf, because they're awesome<3

(y/n)'s pov...

Something that had always been of great comfort to (y/n) was the sunset, particularly at that moment when the golden light spilled across the ground diagonally, creating a perfect atmosphere of romantics, to better help her live her life fully. At Welton, where the only interference were trees instead of the cramped rows of homes in London, the sunset seemed even more ethereal and intoxicating for the young girl. 

However, her love of the sunset was noticed by Charlie, who impatiently grumbled from his position slumped over his desk, where the two pupils had been attempting to study for the upcoming verbs quiz. 

"Hey, (y/n), baby if I'm ever going to pass this class, you've got to stop staring at the sunset as if it's Meeks' eyes. Jeez." he complained, stretching. (y/n) blinked, snapping out of her reverie. 

"Alright, alright," she yawned. "So, like I was saying, you have to identify the first principal part of the verb, and from then you can determine the full conjugation. Here, try this one." She gently passed him a slip of paper with a hand whose forefinger was wrapped in a dark opal ring - a gift from her grandfather years ago - upon which the word 'mon' was scrawled in her handwriting. 

Charlie frowned for a moment, glancing over at the girl unconfidently. She smiled at him and flipped him the bird.

"Don't think those blue puppy dog eyes are going to soften me up, Charles Dalton." she warned while he only smirked slyly in her direction. 

"Can't a gorgeous girl such as yourself take pity on a poor soul like me?" he begged, to which she only laughed. 

"C'mon, just write it down. I can tell you know the answer, so stop trying to flirt with your teacher." he waggled his eyebrows at her before turning back to the page and, with a flourish, finished conjugating the verb so it now read, 'moneo'. (y/n) clapped as he lit a cigarette to celebrate. 

"Maybe your stupid genius is rubbing off on me." he suggested, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he offered (y/n) a puff. She took it gingerly, inhaling quickly and breaking into a fit of coughs. 

"That's, disgusting," she gasped between coughs, Charlie laughing and petting her shoulder affectionately. 

"Didn't anyone ever tell you?" he asked, grinning "ladies aren't supposed to smoke. Tsk tsk, (y/n)." she rolled her eyes and stood, brushing off her plaid skirt. 

"Well, I'm not a lady, I'm a chaotic mess of human consciousness. Now," she said walking to the door "I'm bored. Let's go find someone to bother, shall we?" Gratefully, Charlie stood up and grabbed his blazer, following her out the door with mock chivalry.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning, the entire Dead Poets table was alight with excited chatter, each young person anxious to share their original poems in front of the class. Of course, some - like her dearest Todd, were not happy anxious, but rather, well, anxious anxious. (y/n) had written her poem that had been dedicated to the people she loved most, authors and poets of the past. Knox, on the other hand, took a different approach, lovely albeit a touch creepy, if you asked (y/n).