vicious

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[vicioussimp79]

all about vicious (simp)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

vicious. tauro. 18. poeta. isfp. holden ford's wife.

☆ solicitudes abiertas!

wattpad: @AstralAmethyst

personal: reni

tiktok: cupidsvzsvz

importante

masterlist - request rules

[antiswagc0rp]

MALARKEY HAS THE SLUTTIEST ARMS IVE EVER SEEN THEY WONT LEAVE MY BRAIN SOMEBODY SEDATE ME BEFORE I START CHEWING ON MY WALLS I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE FREE ME FREE MEEE

[briefkittenearthquake]

I like my men smart

[beif0ngs]

The Knight and the Zoomer—they retire from battle, and they settle down in a small village. With each passing day, their love grows stronger.

[djo]

The bard, craving knowledge, makes his way to the Mage’s Guild of Enclave, where he spends his days in their vast libraries. Though deeply devoted to his studies, he still makes time for the occasional adventure. 

STRANGER THINGS 5.08: The Rightside Up

[yawnzshit]

him. in my mind. RENT FUCKING FREE.

[vicioussimp79]

St elmo's fire, Kovin Dolenz just fluff and sad after he wrote his "The Meaning of Life"

OMG, defenitely yes. Hope you enjoy it!

masterlist st elmo's fire masterlist

The room was dim. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the creak of the armchair under Kevin’s weight. In front of him, on the table, lay the open notebook, the ink still fresh on the last page.

He tilted his head back toward the ceiling, as if he could find an answer there that his writing hadn’t given him.

—“I finished it,” he murmured, without conviction. “And I feel nothing.”

Your voice broke the silence.

—“Of course you feel,” you said from the doorway. “You just don’t know what to call it yet.”

He turned his head, startled to see you there. He hadn’t heard you come in. A tired half-smile tugged at his lips.

—“You scare me when you do that,” he replied, with a faint trace of humor. “You should wear bells on your shoes or something.”

You walked closer and sat down across from him, folding your arms on the table. Your eyes lingered on the scribbled words in the notebook.

—“Can I?”

Kevin hesitated, then nodded.

As you read in silence, he couldn’t help but study you: the way your brow furrowed at certain passages, the way your expression softened at others. When you finally looked up at him, your gaze was warm.

—“It’s beautiful,” you said sincerely. “Painful, but beautiful.”

He scoffed, unconvinced.

—“Beautiful isn’t enough. I don’t feel different. I thought writing it would give me answers. Do you know what I feel now? Empty. Like I tore something out of my chest and glued it onto those pages.”

—“Kevin…” you whispered gently, leaning closer. “That’s exactly what it means to write something true. The emptiness is there because you left part of yourself inside it.”

He lowered his gaze, fidgeting with the pen between his fingers.

—“And what if that was all my meaning? What if I already left it behind?”

You reached out and stilled his hand with yours.

—“Then it means there’s more of you to find. It doesn’t end here.”

He let out a broken laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

—“Sounds hopeful, but… what if I don’t find anything else? What if this was all I had to give?”

—“Then,” you said firmly, “I’ll remind you every single day that you still have more. I’ll be here to fill the silences.”

Kevin looked at you, really looked at you, as if your words were too big to fit inside him. His lips parted, but it took a few seconds before he spoke.

—“Why do you do that?” he asked quietly. “Why do you insist on staying?”

You smiled softly, tenderly.

—“Because you’re my meaning too.”

Kovin’s throat tightened. He turned his gaze toward the window, where the rain traced crooked lines across the glass.

—“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he whispered.

—“You don’t have to do anything,” you replied. “Just… let me stay.”

He pressed his forehead against your fingers, still laced with his, closing his eyes. You both stayed like that for a while, words unnecessary. Outside, the city lights flickered like embers in the dark, but inside everything was still.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer than ever:

—“Maybe the meaning of life wasn’t in that notebook. Maybe… it’s right here.”

—“Exactly,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand a little tighter. “It’s always been here.”

Kevin let out a short laugh, tired but genuine. He leaned back in the armchair, letting his shoulder brush against yours. For the first time that night, he didn’t think about what was missing or what he had lost, only about what he had.

And in silence, he realized that maybe, just maybe, that was the answer he’d been searching for all along.

[rogers-carter]

bucky barnes + dogtags

[anyalarbslasagna]

may not love the new stuff but marvel KNOWS how to fuckin cast

[vicioussimp79]

Unexpected Christmas in San Francisco | Huey Lewis

masterlist 80s masterlist

Summary: An unexpected encounter in San Francisco changes the rhythm of her day. What starts as a funny accident turns into something much closer and special.

Huey Lewis x lectora

Themes: Unexpected friendship, growing trust, playful romance, family warmth, lighthearted comedy.

Warnings: none.

Song: “Brown Eyed Girl” – Van Morrison

San Francisco had that unmistakable crispness in the air, the kind of morning that made people rush a little faster to their coffee shops, umbrellas in hand, scarves tugged tight. She was weaving through the crowd on a busy street, eyes on a crooked sign hanging above a tiny record store, when she collided—hard—into someone carrying a stack of papers and a coffee.

“Oh! I—I’m so sorry!” she stammered, cheeks burning. Her words tumbled out fast, Spanish accent soft but noticeable, “I wasn’t looking, I mean I tried to see the sign and—oh no, your papers!”

Huey Lewis looked down at his now-splattered sheet music, then up at her wide-eyed, panicked face. He couldn’t help it; a grin spread across his face. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, voice warm, amused. “I guess I should’ve watched where I was going too. Coffee and music… not the best mix.”

She laughed nervously, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I… I can—uh—help clean it?” She gestured vaguely at the mess, nearly dropping her own drink again.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he replied, still smiling. “I’m Huey.”

“Uh—hi! I’m… uh… I mean… sorry, I’m terrible at introductions when I spill things on people,” she said, words tumbling out so fast that she stumbled over herself. Huey chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, nice to meet you,” he said. “Want to grab another coffee? My treat. Consider it a… I don’t know, friendship offering?”

Her eyes widened, surprised. “A-another coffee? You mean you… don’t think I’m—uh—you know—clumsy?” She giggled, hiding her face in her hands for a moment. “I mean, I’m always… uh…” She laughed nervously, stammering again.

Huey laughed too, and that was the start.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

Over the next weeks, their encounters became little routines. Sometimes it was random: a street corner, a record shop, a café. Sometimes it was planned: a walk along the Embarcadero, sharing stories of music, life, and her family back in Mexico.

She was shy with most people, but Huey’s presence seemed to loosen her. Her words flew out fast, sentences tangled and stuttered when she got excited, but he loved it. Loved the way her laughter filled a space, how she tilted her head when she was thinking, and the way she wrinkled her nose when she tried to concentrate.

He, in turn, was patient, always leaning in to catch what she missed in her flustered bursts, teasing her gently. He found her endlessly charming, the kind of presence that made ordinary walks feel like adventures.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

The first time she met him at a small gig he played for friends, she couldn’t believe she was actually there. He had that same smile when he saw her in the crowd, waving her over like it was completely natural. They talked, laughed, and shared a quiet moment backstage, the noise outside fading as they leaned against amps and cables.

Months passed, and with each encounter, their friendship deepened, moments of closeness growing almost accidentally: sharing an umbrella in the rain, her scarf brushing his arm as they walked, a hand lingering just a second too long.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

Then came Christmas.

Her parents, younger sister, and four rowdy dogs had arrived unexpectedly in San Francisco for the holidays. She had been nervous about introducing Huey; it wasn’t exactly small talk territory. But when she opened the door and he was there, holding a tray of cookies he’d baked himself, her heart leapt.

Her dad’s eyes widened. “Huey Lewis? The Huey Lewis?” he whispered, almost reverently.

Huey grinned sheepishly. “Yes, sir. The one and only.”

Her younger sister jumped forward, bouncing with excitement, and the dogs charged around their feet. She hid behind Huey’s arm, laughing, “They—they might like you… maybe…”

Huey knelt to pet the dogs, letting her peek around his shoulder. Her mom came over, giving him a warm, welcoming hug. “Thank you for taking such good care of my daughter,” she said, smiling. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

The room was filled with chatter, laughter, and the chaos of the dogs and kids running around. Huey leaned in, whispering to her, “I think your family likes me.”

She laughed, face pressed to his shoulder, “They love you… except maybe the dogs—they’re suspicious.”

Her dad, still awestruck, held a cup of cocoa, looking like a kid at a concert. “I can’t believe this. Huey Lewis… in my living room. With my daughter!”

Huey smiled at her, brushing her hair back gently. “I’m glad I’m here. With you. That’s all that matters.”

She looked around at her family, the dogs, and him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fireplace. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Me too.”

And for the first time, she realized how natural it felt—her life in San Francisco, her laughter spilling out, and Huey Lewis right there, holding her hand, part of her world.

The Christmas lights twinkled outside the window, the dogs barked happily, and somewhere, a record played one of his songs softly in the background. Everything felt exactly like it should.

[vicioussimp79]

Una Navidad Inesperada en San Francisco | Huey Lewis

masterlist 80s masterlist

Summary: Un encuentro inesperado en San Francisco cambia el ritmo de su día. Lo que comienza como un accidente divertido se convierte en algo mucho más cercano y especial.

Huey Lewis x lectora

Temas: Amistad inesperada, confianza creciente, romance juguetón, calidez familiar, comedia ligera.

Advertencias: ninguna.

Canción: “Brown Eyed Girl” – Van Morrison

San Francisco tenía ese aire fresco inconfundible, de esas mañanas que hacían que la gente apresurara un poco el paso hacia sus cafés favoritos, con bufandas ajustadas y paraguas en mano. Ella iba zigzagueando entre la multitud por una calle concurrida, con los ojos puestos en un letrero torcido sobre una pequeña tienda de discos, cuando chocó—fuerte—con alguien que llevaba un montón de papeles y un café.

—¡Oh! ¡Lo… lo siento mucho! —balbuceó, con las mejillas encendidas. Sus palabras salían rápido, con un ligero acento mexicano, —¡No estaba mirando, o sea, intentaba ver el letrero y… oh no, tus papeles!

Huey Lewis bajó la vista hacia su partitura manchada de café y luego la miró a ella, ojos grandes de sorpresa. No pudo evitar sonreír. —Tranquila —dijo, con voz cálida y divertida—. Supongo que yo también debería haber mirado por dónde caminaba. Café y música… no es la mejor combinación.

Ella rió nerviosa, acomodándose un mechón de cabello detrás de la oreja. —Puedo… puedo ayudarte a limpiar? —dijo, señalando el desastre, casi derramando su propia bebida de nuevo.

—No, no, está bien —respondió él, todavía sonriendo—. Soy Huey.

—Eh… hola, yo… bueno… lo siento, soy pésima para presentarme cuando… cuando le echo café a alguien —dijo ella, las palabras saliendo a toda velocidad, enredándose y tartamudeando. Huey se rió, sacudiendo la cabeza.

—Bueno, encantado de conocerte —dijo él—. ¿Quieres tomar otro café? Yo invito. Considera esto… no sé… una oferta de amistad.

Sus ojos se abrieron, sorprendida. —¿U-un café más? ¿Quieres decir que… que no crees que soy… eh… torpe? —rió, escondiendo la cara entre las manos un momento—. Quiero decir, siempre soy… eh… —rió nerviosa, volviendo a tartamudear.

Huey se rió también, y así comenzó todo.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

Durante las semanas siguientes, sus encuentros se volvieron rutina. A veces al azar: en una esquina, en la tienda de discos, en un café. Otras veces planeados: caminatas por el Embarcadero, compartiendo historias sobre música, la vida y su familia en México.

Con la mayoría de la gente, ella era tímida, pero con Huey se soltaba. Sus palabras salían rápidas, enredadas y con tartamudeos cuando se emocionaba, pero a él le encantaba. Le encantaba cómo su risa llenaba cualquier espacio, cómo inclinaba la cabeza cuando pensaba, y cómo arrugaba la nariz al concentrarse.

Él, a su vez, era paciente, siempre atento a lo que se le escapaba en sus ráfagas de palabras, burlándose suavemente de ella. La encontraba infinitamente encantadora, capaz de hacer que simples paseos se sintieran como pequeñas aventuras.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

La primera vez que la vio en un pequeño concierto que dio para amigos, ella no podía creer que realmente estuviera allí. Él tenía la misma sonrisa cuando la vio entre la multitud, saludándola como si fuera lo más natural del mundo.

Hablaron, rieron y compartieron un momento tranquilo detrás del escenario, con el ruido de afuera desapareciendo mientras se apoyaban contra amplificadores y cables.

Pasaron meses, y con cada encuentro, su amistad se fue profundizando, con momentos de cercanía que surgían casi por accidente: compartiendo un paraguas bajo la lluvia, su bufanda rozando su brazo mientras caminaban, una mano que se quedaba un segundo más de lo necesario.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────

Y entonces llegó la Navidad.

Sus padres, su hermana menor y cuatro perros traviesos habían llegado inesperadamente a San Francisco para las fiestas. Ella estaba nerviosa por presentarle Huey; no era exactamente una conversación de café. Pero cuando abrió la puerta y él estaba allí, sosteniendo una bandeja de galletas que había horneado, su corazón dio un vuelco.

Los ojos de su papá se abrieron. —¿Huey Lewis? ¿El Huey Lewis? —susurró, casi con reverencia.

Huey sonrió, un poco tímido. —Sí, señor. El único e inigualable.

Su hermana pequeña saltó hacia adelante, rebosante de emoción, y los perros corrieron alrededor de sus pies. Ella se escondió detrás del brazo de Huey, riendo: —Pueden… eh… tal vez… les caigas bien…

Huey se agachó para acariciar a los perros, dejando que ella lo espiara por encima de su hombro. Su mamá se acercó, abrazándolo con calidez. —Gracias por cuidar tan bien de mi hija —dijo, sonriendo—. He escuchado mucho de ti.

La sala se llenó de charla, risas y el caos de los perros y la hermana pequeña corriendo por todos lados. Huey se inclinó y le susurró: —Creo que tu familia me quiere.

Ella rió, pegando su rostro a su hombro: —Te… Te adoran… aunque los perros todavía desconfían.

Su papá, todavía asombrado, sostenía una taza de chocolate caliente, como un niño en un concierto. —No puedo creerlo. ¡Huey Lewis… en mi sala! ¡Con mi hija!

Huey la miró, pasando suavemente la mano por su cabello. —Me alegra estar aquí. Contigo. Eso es todo lo que importa.

Ella miró alrededor: su familia, los perros y él, sintiendo un calor que no tenía nada que ver con la chimenea. —Sí —susurró—. Yo también.

Y por primera vez, se dio cuenta de lo natural que se sentía: su vida en San Francisco, su risa desbordándose, y Huey Lewis allí, tomándola de la mano, parte de su mundo.

Las luces de Navidad brillaban fuera de la ventana, los perros ladraban felices y, en algún lugar, un disco tocaba suavemente una de sus canciones. Todo se sentía exactamente como debía.

[isjustreni]

about me!

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🦭‧₊˚ Hi! I'm Reni; 18 ; ISFP ; Taurus ; Cabin 13 ; Ravenclaw ; Matcha Lover ; Polyglot in process

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠! ★‧°𖦹｡⋆☆

Big sis energy (because I actually am) with a big crush on Tom Cruise, a heart for Holden Ford, and a soft spot for sad books. Living life with Mr. Brightside on repeat, romanticizing everything and overthinking most things. I’m here to chat, give advice, share recipes and tips. Basically everything every girl needs. I love movies, books, and those little things that make life pretty. Welcome to the cute chaos.

I'll also be posting in different languages (Spanish is my main one tho), so even if you speak a different language, there’s probably going to be something for you here. Promise.

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꩜ .ᐟ Content: reni's diary , music , spanish , english , italian , russian , german , advice , self care , hauls , books , movies , recipes , makeup , fashion , travel , reni's crushes, etc. 📎

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[vicioussimp79]

New Blog !

Follow my personal blog !, I’ll be posting any kind of things. I’m sure there will be something for you to enjoy!

Don’t forget Requests are OPEN for @vicioussimp79 one shots, imagine, etc.

Note: I’m so sorry for the late responses to th last requests, i just figured out how i’m gonna do this and when, etc. I PROMISE I’ll do the requests the best i can and i’ll post them as soon as i finish them. 🥹

Oh and in case my english is not good or something. I’m sorry, please remember english isn’t my native language 🥲🩷

🩷🩷🩷

Sigue mi blog personal !, postearé muchísimas cosas diferentes. Estoy segura de que habrá algo para que puedas disfrutar!

No olvides que los pedidos están ABIERTOS para @vicioussimp79 one shots, imagines, etc.

Nota: Siento mucho las respuestas tardías a las últimas solicitudes, acabo de averiguar cómo voy a hacer esto y cuándo, etc. PROMETO que haré las solicitudes lo mejor que pueda y las publicaré tan pronto como las termine. 🥹

🩷🩷🩷

[nobitchs-world]

If I ever get these men in my claws I will transform into the ultimate freak

[vicioussimp79]

Free Weekend (and Not So Secret Anymore) | Steven Meeks

masterlist dead poets society masterlist

Summary: During a free weekend, the boys of Welton accidentally discover Meeks' very unexpected secret.

Themes: Secret relationship, unexpected attraction, teenage mischief, tenderness, romantic comedy.

Steven Meeks x reader

Warning: none

Song: "You Send Me" – Sam Cooke

Welton Academy, Fall of 1959

The woods behind Welton felt like another world.

Leaves crunched under their shoes as they ran between the trees, dodging branches, throwing each other looks that were challenges disguised as smiles. She laughed loudly as he tried to catch up, his tie crooked, his hair a mess, and that look on his face: the perfect mix of love and terror for how much he cared about her.

“Cheater!” Meeks shouted between laughs. “You elbowed me!”

“You were stepping on my heel!”

“Lies!”

She looked back at him just before tripping over a root. She screamed, but Steven caught her just in time, rolling with her over the dry leaves. They landed tangled, laughing non-stop, their faces so close they could count each other’s freckles.

“That was very clumsy of you,” he said, not moving.

“And very you to catch me just in time,” she replied, amused, eyes locked on his.

He didn’t say anything. Just looked at her lips, then her eyes. And kissed her.

He kissed her with the kind of passion that’s terrifying because it feels too good to be real. He had her pinned gently against an old log, his arms around her waist, and she was tugging at the collar of his wrinkled shirt. The world paused in that scene. Or at least, that’s what they thought.

No one knew about them. No one had a clue. She wasn’t an ordinary girl. Not a face anyone would overlook. She was the kind of girl that made even the leaves stop to stare. Too beautiful, too seductive... but never arrogant. She was just her — with that sweet way of looking, of speaking, of brushing his neck when no one was watching.

And Meeks... Meeks looked at her like the universe had done him an impossible favor.

They didn’t hear the footsteps. They didn’t hear anything. Just the crunch. Too late.

“…Steven?”

Todd’s voice was the first. Soft, but full of awe.

“Meeks?” Charlie said it with that mix of teasing, admiration, and pure disbelief.

Neil just widened his eyes like he’d discovered a national secret.

Meeks opened his eyes at last, just as the boys came into view. Frozen. So was she.

“Shit,” Steven whispered, not moving.

She didn’t say a word. Just buried her face in his neck, hiding, wishing the trees would swallow her whole. Her breathing trembled.

“Who…?” Charlie began, frowning, but grinning like a kid catching something he wasn’t supposed to see. “Is this for real?”

“No way…” Neil muttered. “Meeks?”

“Steven has a girlfriend!” Pitts blurted from behind, absolutely unfiltered.

She clung tighter, face still buried, redder than the leaves scattered on the ground. Steven held her, like he could somehow shield her from the chaos that was coming.

“Don’t say anything,” Steven said, still holding her close. “Just… don’t say anything. Please.”

“You’re dating a movie star and didn’t tell us!?” Charlie was genuinely scandalized.

“She’s not a movie star!” Steven replied — though, in his head, she absolutely was.

She tried to step back, too exposed now, nervous, trying to escape the moment… But she stepped wrong. The ground cracked.

Then gave way.

A second later, she vanished into a ridiculous splash that no one saw coming.

“What the—?!” they all shouted.

“I’M OKAY!” her voice came from the little hidden pond, previously covered in leaves.

Silence.

Steven took half a second to rush to the edge, lean down, and see her soaked, laughing, one hand on her forehead and leaves stuck in her hair.

“Oh my God…” Meeks whispered, eyes wide, heart pounding in his chest.

“I’m fine,” she repeated with nervous laughter, even though she clearly wanted to disappear.

And Steven… Steven burst into laughter. That soft, glowing, sincere laugh.

The rest of the boys didn’t know whether to laugh, help her out, or ask what the hell was going on. But Steven just stood there, looking down at her.

And in that moment, she knew it didn’t matter who saw them anymore.

Because Steven Meeks looked at her like the strangest thing was that they’d ever tried to hide at all.

[vicioussimp79]

Fin de semana libre (y no tan secreto) | Steven Meeks

masterlist dead poets society masterlist

Summary: Un fin de semana libre, los chicos de Welton descubren por accidente que Meeks tiene un secreto bastante inesperado.

Steven Meeks x lectora

Temas: Relación secreta, atracción inesperada, complicidad adolescente, ternura, comedia romántica.

Advertencias: ninguna

Canción: "You Send Me" – Sam Cooke

Welton Academy, otoño de 1959

El bosque detrás de Welton parecía otro mundo.

Las hojas crujían bajo sus zapatos mientras corrían entre los árboles, esquivando ramas, lanzándose miradas que eran un reto disfrazado de sonrisa. Ella se reía con fuerza mientras él intentaba alcanzarla, su corbata torcida, el cabello algo alborotado, y esa expresión en su rostro: la mezcla perfecta entre enamorado y aterrado por lo mucho que la quería.

—¡Tramposa! —gritó Meeks entre risas—. ¡Me empujaste con el codo!

—¡Estabas pisándome el talón!

—¡Mentira!

Ella se volvió a mirarlo justo antes de tropezar con una raíz. Gritó, pero Steven la atrapó justo a tiempo, rodando con ella sobre las hojas secas. Quedaron uno sobre el otro, riendo sin parar, sus rostros tan cerca que podían contar las pecas del otro.

—Eso fue muy torpe de tu parte —dijo él, sin moverse.

—Y muy tuyo el atraparme a tiempo —le respondió ella, divertida, sin apartar la vista.

Él no dijo nada. Solo bajó la mirada a su boca, luego a sus ojos. Y la besó.

La besó con ese tipo de entrega que da miedo por lo fuerte que se siente. La tenía contra un tronco viejo, sus manos rodeando su cintura, y ella tirando de su camisa arrugada. El mundo se detenía en esa escena. O al menos, eso creían.

Nadie sabía de ellos. Nadie tenía idea. Ella no era una chica común. No era una cara que pasara desapercibida. Era la clase de chica que hacía que hasta las hojas se detuvieran a verla pasar. Demasiado hermosa, demasiado seductora… pero nunca presumida. Solo era ella, con esa manera dulce de mirar, de hablar, de tocarle el cuello cuando nadie veía.

Y Meeks… Meeks la veía como si el universo le hubiera hecho un favor imposible.

No oyeron los pasos. No oyeron nada. Solo el crujido. Tarde.

—…¿Steven?

La voz de Todd fue la primera. Suave, pero cargada de asombro.

—¿Meeks? —Charlie lo dijo con esa mezcla entre burla, admiración y puro desconcierto.

Neil solo abrió los ojos como si hubiera descubierto un secreto de Estado.

Meeks abrió los suyos al fin, justo cuando los chicos quedaron a la vista. Paralizado. Ella también.

—Mierda —susurró Steven, sin moverse.

Ella no dijo nada. Solo enterró el rostro en su cuello, escondiéndose, deseando que las ramas la tragaran entera. Su respiración temblaba.

—¿Quién…? —empezó Charlie, frunciendo el ceño con una sonrisa entre divertida e impactada—. ¿Es real esto?

—No puede ser… —Neil murmuró—. ¿Meeks?

—¡Steven tiene novia! —soltó Pitts desde atrás, sin filtro.

Ella se aferró más fuerte, sin levantar la cabeza, roja como las hojas que cubrían el suelo. Steven la abrazó, como si pudiera protegerla del escándalo que se venía.

—No digan nada —pidió Steven, sin soltarla—. Solo... no digan nada, por favor.

—¿¡Estás saliendo con una modelo de cine y no nos contaste!? —Charlie estaba escandalizado.

—¡No es una modelo de cine! —respondió Steven, aunque en su mente, lo era.

Ella quiso dar un paso atrás, ya demasiado expuesta, nerviosa, intentando salir del momento… pero dio mal el paso. El suelo crujió.

Y luego se quebró.

Un segundo después, desapareció en un chapoteo ridículo que nadie vio venir.

—¡¿Qué…?! —gritaron todos.

—¡ESTOY BIEN! —salió la voz desde el pequeño estanque que había estado oculto por las hojas.

Silencio.

Steven tardó medio segundo en correr hasta el borde, asomarse, verla empapada, riendo con una mano sobre la frente y hojas pegadas al cabello.

—Oh por Dios… —susurró Meeks, los ojos grandes, el corazón latiéndole hasta los oídos.

—Estoy bien —repitió ella entre risas nerviosas, aunque claramente quería desaparecer.

Y Steven… Steven se echó a reír. Esa risa suave, brillante, sincera.

Todos los demás no sabían si reír, ayudarla o preguntar qué carajos estaba pasando. Pero él solo se quedó allí, mirándola desde arriba.

Y en ese momento, ella supo que no le importaba quién los viera.

Porque Steven Meeks la miraba como si lo más raro del mundo fuera que alguna vez se hubieran escondido.

[vicioussimp79]

Like Autumn Knew Your Name | Knox Overstreet

masterlist dead poets society masterlist

Summary: After two years apart, she shows up at Welton Academy — and she’s nothing like the girl Knox Overstreet once knew. Beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming, her return shakes him more than he’s willing to admit.

Knox Overstreet x reader

Themes: Unexpected reunion, teenage tension, quiet longing, nostalgia, overwhelming first attraction.

Warning: none

Song: "This Magic Moment" – The Drifters

Welton Academy, 1959

Leaves crunched under polished shoes as the Welton boys walked beneath the trees—blazers sharp, hair neatly combed, Charlie’s laughter bouncing between the trunks like it owned the place.

Knox walked in the middle of the group, distracted. He half-smiled at whatever Neil was saying, nodded vaguely at Todd’s quiet remarks, but his mind was drifting. Like it always did. Especially since two years ago.

Then the world shifted.

—“Knox?”

He stopped. So did the others, like the wind itself had frozen. A voice. That voice.

He turned. And there you were. But not the way he remembered you. Not like this.

Not with that dark coat, lipstick that matched the red of the maple leaves, that warm but confident smile, and that walk—nothing like the girl from back then. You looked like trouble. The best kind. Beautiful in a way that didn’t ask for attention… but stole it anyway.

—“What...?” Knox barely managed.

You didn’t wait for an answer. You ran straight to him, not a single hesitation in your step. And he opened his arms. Of course he did.

The hug was full. Real. The kind no one expects to see at Welton. But it happened. And it said everything.

—“I can’t believe this!” you laughed, still clinging to him.

Knox stood frozen, arms half-tight around you, as if holding something he thought was gone forever. You had been fifteen the last time he saw you. He’d already felt something back then, sure, but this? This was something else entirely.

—“What are you doing here?” he asked when you finally pulled back, just enough to look at him.

—“My dad works with the school board now,” you said casually. “I came with him this week. Can you believe it? I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Knox couldn’t respond. Not yet.

Charlie, however, grinned.

—“And where’d you come from, darling?”

You turned to him, raising one brow playfully. He liked that.

—“And who exactly are you, sweetheart?”

Charlie laughed.

—“Charlie Dalton. Poet, current disaster. At your service.”

You extended your hand with mock elegance.

—“Nice to meet you, disaster.”

Charlie kissed your hand. Of course he did.

Meeks and Pitts exchanged glances, clearly holding in laughter. Neil was watching you like you were a new character in a play. Todd… well, he blushed instantly.

—“Since when does Knox have friends like that?” Charlie whispered to the group, clearly impressed.

Knox still hadn’t moved. He was staring at you like you’d fallen from the sky, and he was the only one who remembered your name.

—“You’re…” he started, then stopped.

You tilted your head.

—“The same as before?”

Knox shook his head with a shy smile.

—“No. Not the same.”

—“Worse?”

—“No. Definitely not.”

You laughed, and that was it. He was a goner all over again.

Charlie offered for you to join them as they walked across campus. You agreed, naturally, slipping in between Knox and him, asking the others curious little questions with ease and charm, not a single part of you out of place.

Knox kept glancing sideways at you, like he still wasn’t sure you were real. Like he couldn’t believe how much you’d changed—and how fast his heart was catching up.

And you? Sometimes, you glanced at him too. With that quiet sweetness that said: Yes, Knox. I remember you, too.

[vicioussimp79]

Como si el otoño supiera tu nombre | Knox Overstreet

masterlist dead poets society masterlist

Summary: Después de dos años sin verse, ella reaparece inesperadamente en Welton Academy, ahora convertida en alguien completamente distinta. Knox Overstreet nunca la olvidó, pero no estaba preparado para reencontrarse con esa versión de ella: hermosa, segura, y más deslumbrante que nunca.

Knox Overstreet x lectora

Temas: Reencuentro inesperado, tensión adolescente, atracción no disimulada, nostalgia, primeras emociones intensas.

Advertencias: ninguna

Canción: "This Magic Moment" – The Drifters

Welton Academy, 1959

Las hojas crujían bajo los zapatos de charol mientras los chicos de Welton caminaban entre los árboles, los sacos ajustados, los peinados impecables, y la risa de Charlie rebotando entre los troncos como si fuera dueño del bosque.

Knox iba en medio del grupo, distraído. Le sonreía a medias a lo que Neil decía, asentía a lo que Todd murmuraba, pero su mente divagaba como siempre, como casi siempre desde hace dos años.

Y entonces, el sonido del mundo cambió.

—¿Knox?

Él se detuvo. Los demás también, como si el viento se hubiera congelado un segundo. Una voz. Esa voz.

Giró. Y ahí estabas. Y no… no podías ser tú. No así.

No con ese abrigo oscuro, los labios pintados, la sonrisa cálida pero demasiado segura, y ese modo de caminar que ya no era de niña. El tipo de belleza que no te advertía que iba a aplastarte el pecho hasta dejarte sin aire. Era como si hubieras crecido en dirección opuesta al mundo. Como si la tierra te hubiese permitido florecer a escondidas, lejos de él.

—¿Qué…? —Knox apenas pudo decirlo.

Y tú no esperaste explicación. Corriste. Literalmente. Saltaste los últimos pasos y te lanzaste a sus brazos. Y él los abrió. Claro que lo hizo.

El abrazo fue grande. Real. Como esos que no deberían pasar en Welton, pero pasan cuando el corazón ya no sabe disimular.

—¡No puedo creerlo! —dijiste entre risas, aún sin soltarlo.

Knox estaba paralizado, los brazos temblorosos por la intensidad de tenerte tan cerca. La última vez que te había visto, los dos tenían quince años. Él ya te miraba con algo de amor, sí, pero eso... eso no lo preparó para esto.

—¿Qué haces aquí? —logró preguntar cuando te alejaste apenas para mirarlo de frente.

—Mi papá trabaja con la junta académica ahora —dijiste con naturalidad—. Y vine con él esta semana. ¿Puedes creerlo? No pensé que aún estuvieras por aquí.

Knox no respondió. Todavía no podía procesarlo. Charlie, por otro lado, silbó con descaro.

—¿Y tú de dónde saliste, muñeca?

Te giraste hacia él con una ceja levantada, divertida. Él sonrió, encantado con la reacción.

—¿Y tú quién eres, encanto?

Charlie rió, fascinado.

—Charlie Dalton, poeta, desastre con piernas, a tu servicio.

—Un placer, desastre —dijiste, estirando la mano con ironía.

Charlie te la besó. Claro que lo hizo.

Meeks y Pitts se miraron entre sí, intentando no reír. Neil observaba la escena como si fuera teatro vivo. Todd... solo se ruborizó.

—¿Desde cuándo Knox tiene amigas...así? —murmuró Charlie hacia los demás, sin disimular.

Knox seguía en el mismo lugar. Mirándote como si fueras un sueño. Como si el otoño te hubiera traído a propósito. Como si el universo estuviera burlándose de su torpeza.

—Estás… —empezó a decir, pero la palabra se le quedó entre los dientes.

Tú ladeaste la cabeza.

—¿Igual que antes?

Knox negó con una sonrisa nerviosa.

—No. No. Nada igual.

—¿Peor?

—Imposible.

Te reíste. Y él volvió a enamorarse.

Charlie te ofreció caminar con ellos. Tú aceptaste, por supuesto, caminando entre Knox y él, haciéndole preguntas curiosas a todos, sin perder nunca el tono suave ni la sonrisa audaz.

Pero Knox te miraba de reojo. Como si aún necesitara confirmar que eras real. Que estabas ahí. Que habías vuelto. Que podías romperle el corazón, y él te dejaría hacerlo con gusto.

Y tú, por momentos, también lo mirabas. Con una dulzura que parecía decir: Sí, Knox. También me acuerdo de ti.