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angelkurenai · 5 years

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Draw me, like one of your French girls - Steve Rogers x Reader

Title: Draw me, like one of your French girls

Pairing: Artist!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Visiting your good friend in his small apartment every time means you get drawn to his art, amazed by whatever he has created and curious about his inspiration which he always hides that it’s you. You don’t insist, and thing remain the same. It’s only when you finally ask him to draw you that things really change; maybe in a way you could never expect. Surely drawing you naked wouldn’t be a problem, right?

“Incredible.” you breathed out, your voice filled with awe as you ran your fingers over the new papers scattered across the room “This is... truly incredible.” you couldn't contain a small laugh, which was only half a second later joined by another one, soft, sweet and so warm to your heart “And, my gosh, Steve it's so beautiful. I've- I have no words. How- How did you manage all this?”

“It's not really... much.” he mumbling, shrugging for just a second, the papers in his hands filled with sketches nearly slipping from his fingers, but the sight of that adorable smile was enough to distract you from everything happening around you.

“Are you serious? Steve I was here two days ago and these weren't here. Two days, you did all of this in only two days and it's... my dear, stunning.” you bit your lip, eyes wide an filled with wonder as you tried to keep yourself from reaching out to trace your fingers over the charcoal on the canvas “Sometimes I think this isn't humanly possible, that you've found some kind of- oh I don't know, some...” you trailed off, your smile turning into a mischievous one as you looked at him over your shoulder “Magic potion? A serum? The kind that makes supersoldiers but only in your case you're something like-”

“What, a superartist?” he asked, his smile more of a teasing smirk.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to stay mad at him but failed “Not the words I was going to use, anyway. You said it.” you shrugged “Besides, I think that with that kind of built and height a supersoldier serum would have been unnecessary. You easily steal hearts wherever you go as it is.”

A laugh, soft and almost shy but certainly able to make your heart skip another beat, followed soon afterwards “I don't think that's entirely possible or the case but thank you.” he said, gathering more papers and sketches in his hands to make room for you to finally be able to sit.

“Nonsense. Everybody knows it. With a heart of gold, so loving and caring unlike anybody else, a body that even ancient Greek sculptures wouldn't be able to capture well enough and a talent that even Da Vinci should be envious of, just face it-” you smiled, snatching the sketches before he could even react – though he did protest and tried to prevent you from having them but you both knew it was a familiar fight that you won every single time “You're a catch. It's a well-known and commonly accepted fact. Hey, are these recent too? I've never seen them before.”

“Those are not-” he tried to lie, oh how he wished he could lie about it, no matter how hard it was at first he had managed to do so real well when it came to his feelings for you. Granted, that was more hiding the truth than lying to you about them but it was up to some degree practice.

He wanted to tell you that no it wasn't all things drawn within the span of three hours, after only an hour of you leaving his place. He wanted to lie, to pretend that you weren't the embodiment of inspiration, of beauty, love, everything wonderful and important in this world for him and everything else his heart longed for too. He wanted to lie about it so much, just so that he could hide the embarrassing fact that whenever he saw you, whenever you visited him even if it was for a cup of coffee and a casual talk because you were close by or you run into him I the street, it was like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long, nearly dead and starving for life.

He needed to lie to hide that he looked forward to moments spent with his eyes closed, picturing the way you had been laughing and smiling and looking at him – and only him – just a couple minutes prior, before grabbing any and every piece of paper, sketchbook and canvas he could find so that he could draw you or any other part of you, from the way the sun shone over your eyes and lips to the flowers on your dress or the hands on your lap. That didn't mean that he got theprivilege everyday, though. There were times when he tried to do that with the memories he had of you of a week or two ago, and it wasn't like he didn't ave plenty to last a lifetime, but there was always something different about getting new images of you; new memories. He had resorted to using the older memories only for when it came to creating a new piece that was either meant for a customer, for the upcoming exhibition or even the new art gallery he was planning to set up in town again. All in all, paintings that drew you as inspiration but could in no way directly linked to you – not unless someone was reading Steve's mind – were the ones for display, for the world to see, while the rest were only for Steve. The ones that reflected all the ways he saw you and all the things he felt for you were still tobe kept hidden, far too personal for anybody else to see yet.

Lying or hiding the truth was one way to go about it, but not in this case. So he decided against it in the end. With a soft sigh he smiled as he watched you flip excitedly through the various drawings, taking in every expression – especially on the ones you lingered most on, as you made yourself at home. Shoes off, bag falling at the feet of a chair carelessly as you dived in the art and made yourself comfortable on the bed. Steve only held his breath as he forced himself to stay put for a second longer instead of grab a brush and start capturing as much as he could.

He cleared his throat and looked away, focusing on making you your cup of coffee “Yes, actually. I did those last night.” he said the truth, not daring too look up at you. Keeping busy was the key.

“Oh Steve.” he could still hear the smile in your voice much like the awe “These are...” a breathless laugh, he couldn't hold his own smile “You know, I don't understand how you do this, how you suddenly find such inspiration but Steve you should use it more often. These have such potential, they could end up in the biggest art galleries all around the world! Not like your work isn't already there but, you know, these could be thee most popular works of the year! If not decade.”

“That's just too much, (Y/n). Not possible again.” he said with a laugh.

You narrowed your eyes at him, taking the cup he offered you “In all the time you've known me, when have I ever been wrong, Steve? Never.”

“I must admit that's true, though I fear I will regret it later.” he said with an adorable smile “And I'm guessing that same goes for everything else?”

“Considering you're a catch?” you raised an eyebrow, taking a sip “You bet.”

He only hummed, taking a seat on his chair by his desk, close but far enough to take all of you in before he asked softly “Is that what goes around in the office too?”

“Aha so Romanoff has spoken then!” you exclaimed before laughing, earning a laugh from Steve as well even though he tried to seem as innocent as possible with his shrug “I should have known she was going to out me at some point. Gosh I'm gonna kill her, can't believe I asked her to keep quiet about it and she just-”

Steve would have gladly stayed in that moment forever, admired the look of you sprawled in his bed amongst his rumbled bedsheets, the sun casting perfect shadows and light wherever needed, the insanely adorable flush on your cheeks captivating and intriguing as ever. So intriguing that he couldn't help but speak to ask you in the end “Well, honestly, she only said a couple of things. Natasha doesn't really let things slip, so I'm guessing this is something she wanted to happen. It was just the... necessary ones and they were uhm... interesting to say the least. I didn't know I was so popular.”

He tried to hide the smile behind his cup of coffee, mostly because he hoped he could hide his lie. Of sorts at least. Natasha had barely said anything, truth was he had little to no idea, but seeing you get so flustered over it, so damn beautiful was the only thought his brain provided, he needed to know more.

“Only you would say that Steve. Which begs the question, are you going to get another apartment or what? You could afford any and every house and loft in town, you know. This place is so small you can barely move as it is but with all this art, it feels tiny. And I love cosy places, you know it, but there is a high risk of getting some work lost or ruined in here.”

This time he couldn't nor wanted to hide his smile. Pulling his cup away from his lips he gave you a look “Are you trying to change the subject (Y/n)?” he asked but you shoo your head, shrugging to innocently it wasn't innocent anymore “Anyway, to answer your question, I'd take my mother's old apartment any day. Your turn and I want a direct answer.”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That's oddly... dark of you. Serious and possibly hot. I like that.” you smile despite your nerves and shyness “Well, to answer your unspoken question: It all started when Sharon asked me and a couple other girls out for drinks, you know ladies night, but you and I had already made plans. I couldn't lie because they'd think I was avoiding them so I told them. And then of course combined with all the times you've come to pick me up from work or I've spent my lunch with you or I've accompanied you to your galleries and exhibitions, well-” you huffed, looking down at your mug before placing it away “I wasn't aware of it until recently that they've started talking about us and thinking we're a couple. I could- I've tried to clear it up but honestly nobody seems to believe me and, you know, it doesn't help that you're so famous and sought after. Plus, we act the way we do it's just- It's all just a misunderstanding, it'll clear up.”

“I didn't mean to...” his voice was sad, almost filled with regret, even though his heart was beating too fast and eagerly in his chest “(Y/n), I'm sorry for-”

“What?” you gasped “Oh no, no Steve. There's nothing to be sorry for, it's not like it's.... a problem for me. I mean I never cared what others thought or said, not unless it was my friends, and besides-” you smiled, or at least tried to through your nervousness “Am I really that bad for you, Mr Rogers?”

“No!” that came out embarrassingly fast “No, of course not. I mean, (Y/n) you are the kindest and most loving person I know. You light up the entire room when you're there and if I'm completely honest, you have been my anchor more times than I can remember. More... so much more than that actually. I don't know where I'd be without you. So, if anything... you are the catch.”

“Alright, let's stop right there before it gets out of control and I am unable to stop myself from kissing you.” your smile was playful much like the wink you sent him but oh how he wanted to believe it was all real, but he got carried away by the way you laid down on the mattress, stretching softly as you focused back on the sketches in your hands, some already laying around you “Which reminds me: Where did this all come from? I mean, last time we talked two days ago you said you were behind on schedule with the pieces for the new gallery and now two days later you have pieces and ideas for ten more galleries.”

“I suppose... that's how inspiration is. Comes and goes. I was lucky enough this time, although, they're still just random works. I guess... the flowers and the eyes could turn into something good.” he shrugged.

“And may I ask, what is the source of said inspiration? Or is her name a secret?” you asked, your voice having lost some of the lightness in it “I could feel jealous of her if I wasn't so taken by your work. Lucky her, though I'm sure she must bereally special to be your muse.”

“H-her?” he stuttered, his posture straightening. He'd been careful to hide any and every sketch or painting that clearly depicted you in any way that you could easily tell. But there was just so many that it was very likely that he had missed one or two. Butt then, why would you refer to yourself as “her”? Thinking about it and as he said the next words, he noticed a sketch of your face and subtly but hastily made sure to hide it, by placing other blank papers on top of it.

“Muse? You know I- I don't have one.” whenever he had to lie to you once or twice he did feel guilty but he always told himself it was for the best. This time however it was joined by such a great wave of regret and sorrow, the only one that could describe his belief that he was somehow betraying you.

“Really?” you sounded really curious “Then who is this?”

He tried and he hoped he did a good job of hiding his relief. It was an older one, of you curled on his bed not too long ago, face deep buried in his pillow as you had all but collapsed there after a hard day at work. It was meant to be a visit but you ended up sleeping there, only for Steve to stay awake all night drawing like there was no tomorrow.

“Nothing. It's nothing.” he smiled “I saw a sculpture the other day and it was inspiring, that's all.”

“Oh. Oh. Sorry, I-” you almost looked relieved “For a second I thought... well, nevermind.” you shook your head “It's still very beautiful too. But-” you frowned, turning your head just slightly to look at him again “I've noticed that while you do draw people on the occasion, it's never the same ones, not for long for sure and even more not ones we know. Not ones I know. What I mean is that... why not, Steve?”

“I don't...” he looked out of the window, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you despite how captivating you were in that moment “Well, there is something about painting people I know. You know I put emotions into my paintings but when it comes to my friends, to my family, to the people I care for and have memories with then I feel like it's all on the canvas there too. And sharing that with virtual strangers feels... I don't want to expose myself so much.”

“Well, then maybe it's because you haven't tried it out yet?” you suggested softly, making him tilt his head “Maybe, you have to... learn how to put out specific feelings. I'm not saying none at all, maybe some that will make the painting stand out, not like your art already doesn't, but you know so that it is still part of you like every other painting of yours. However, you could decide to keep the things that are most important to you about it only for you. Like, certain feelings, it doesn't have to be all there for everyone to see. It could be things you only get for once.”

“That sounds good (Y/n) but sadly easier said than done.” he said, already fidgeting with a nearby brush.

“I didn't say it was but with practice everything becomes easier at some point, right?” he could practically hear the small voice in his head saying that this wouldn't end well but he couldn't help but be entranced by the small hopeful smile on your lips “I mean, it could be hard at first, but it's only because you haven't tried it yet. Or practiced that much yet, whichever. But with time you could get used to it and I, well, I think it would be really interesting to try it out. It's something new and if you find it doesn't fit your style then you could just... stop. It's up to you.”

“It is, I know, I'm just-” he paused, pressing his lips together as he studied your expression for a couple more seconds “You already have something in mind, don't you? What's going on?”

The questions were mostly rhetorical but he asked anyway. And you shrugged as innocently as you possibly could “I mean... I might.”

“And are you planning on ever telling me or what?” he couldn't help but chuckle “Why don't you just ask (Y/n)? All you have to do is say it and I-”

“Why don't you ever draw me?” you cut him off gently but with a clear voice.

“I- What?” he could swear his heart leapt to his throat.

“I mean-” you cleared your throat “It's not like you haven't tried it at all to begin with. I've seen the portrait you did for Sharon, though not for your galleries, it's still beautiful and-”

“Sharon asked me to do it.” he said a little too fast, but his need to justify himself to you was far too great “She was- I was working on a new drawing when she came to visit and it was of- of a random couple I had seen that she asked me if I could draw her. It was more of a quick drawing than anything else. It's not-” he let a small breath, glancing down at his hands “It wouldn't be the same.”

“Well-” you started, looking down for a few longer seconds but he did notice the smile on your lips, making him feel happy with his words despite his initial worry “Then... you could try to draw me? If only for practice. I wouldn't mind at all. You've done amazing portraits before, I think you would do great again. I mean, if you'd like to of course. You're-you're the artist. If I don't insp-”

“It's not-” he started with a soft exhale, getting up from his chair and slowly making his way to you “What would you like?” he asked instead, smile soft as he let himself brush a few stray strands of hair out of your eyes. He could swear he heard you take in a shaky breath but his own heart was hammering in his ars so he couldn't know what he heard for sure.

“To know... how much I'd inspire you.” you confessed, voice small and almost fragile in a way that made his heart clenched beautifully in his chest. Oh if only you knew. If only he could really tell you everything.

“And...” he started again in a soft voice, fixing the bedsheets only a bit around you; he wouldn't dare touch a thing nor change it, he wanted you more than anything to stay exactly the way you were “You would like me to draw you. Well then-” he didn't realize it when his fingers had found your face again, now on your cheek tracing the line of your cheekbones as the excitement made his stomach fill with excitement, he could finally get to do this “Good, I thought you were never going to ask.”

You scoffed a laugh which turned into a warm big smile that stayed on your lips for good even though you rolled your eyes at him “Isn't the artist supposed to be the one to ask those kind of things?”

“Hm” he shrugged “I'm pretty sure we've always been a bit unconventional on some things.”

“Fine then. Since we are unconventional on some things, and not all, how about we start making a few exceptions now?” a smile had started to creep up on your lips, one that he could almost swear was too playful already to look anywhere near innocent as you planned for it. And maybe, just maybe, it didn't help that the way you were looking up at him through your lashes, sprawled on his bed, as he hovered over you so close – too close for it to be so comfortable or anywhere near appropriate and his mind almost screamed at him to take a step back but the rest of his body refused to move – it was all all but innocent.

“Again...” his voice came as something barely above a hoarse whisper “Something tells me you have something in mind already. It's beginning to feel like this has been your plan all along.”

And then you smiled more as if to look like you were sorry, but the way you were biting your lip was far away from sorry and nearly too seductive it should be alarming “Well-” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts “If you put it that way, and if... you like the thought of it then, who am I to deny it? You know now. Yes, I've carefully planned everything from the beginning and you've already fallen into my little trap. Again.” you laughed, your eyes sparkling with possible mischief and yet so much joy it almost made you look innocent. He could look at you like this forever if he could.

You clearly didn't mean it but there was always a part of him that thrived in moments like this. A part of him that eagerly looked forward to seeing you relax so much around him, when it was only you and him, that you ended up becoming so playful. Some would call it downright flirty, and it no doubt looked like you were trying to seduce him and oh he wished for that to be true, but he knew that it was nothing more. And he was content with that, if only for the time being, as he enjoyed the proximity it more often than not allowed him.

“So, what am I to endure this time?” he asked, a smile tugging at him lips.

“Endure?” you frowned, almost pouting “Stevie, you say that like my plans are ever anything but fun. As if-” you stopped when you noticed the raised eyebrow he gave you and then continued “Well-” you shrugged, grinning “For me at least they are. Though you always enjoy yourself so don't act like that.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is you want to or what?” he asked instead, and despite his words his voice was soft and calm “This exception of yours.”

“Well, you know me. I'm a hopeless romantic at heart so I want a few things to be, let's say, classic.” your voice softened but your eyes still held that playfulness “I said I want you to draw me, yes, I'd love to see myself through your eyes for once and through your incredible art but-” A moment of silence that stretched on for longer than needed but that neither of you realised, not as Steve got lost in you, fingers still caressing your cheek. He almost didn't realise it until you were more than just propping yourself up on your elbow and it was already too late. Nearly in a sitting position, you'd gotten closer to him, free hand pressed on his abdomen and face close to his belly as it was tilted up to face him.

“Wh-what is it?” he took a step back, or what was a pathetic try at it.

You smiled, pulling your hand away and laying back on the bed, eyes on him the whole while “Like Rose once said...” a moment of real hesitation “I want you to draw me like one of your french girls.”

“I- Wha-what?” he blinked, this time taking an actual step back but not too fast. Of all the things he had imagined, this was not one of them and he was fairly sure it could never be.

“Well, you know what I mean.” you still smiled “I didn't- I don't suppose you'd have a problem with that? I mean, art is art, any and every form is equally important and we both believe so. I mean I've seen you-”

“(Y/n)” his mouth had gone completely dry “That's not what I mean. You-”

“What?” you tilted your head “I'll be fine. I mean, I know you, I trust you and we both know it's not like you are going to put this painting in any exhibition to begin with. It is only going to be for me to see and... for you. So, no, I don't have a problem. I'm alright with you having it. If anything, I believe I would want you to be the only to have it. That is... if you'll draw me.”

“I-” he started but all words died out in his lips. Seeing the small if not barely there smirk on your lips, he couldn't help but let his mind wander back to his previous thoughts. What if this was all part of the two of yours game, part of the teasing and joking. Only a way for you to get a reaction out of him – which in every other occasion he had had the pleasure of giving you – since you were always the only one to push the boundaries. Was it the same or was there more truth here than he could think of?

Letting a calm and soft expression rest on his face, he knelt in front of you, fingers running over the line of your jaw and looked straight into your eyes before he whispered “Alright.”

He could almost feel the electricity that shot through you, he certainly saw it in the way your body almost jolted before he pulled away, but left you no time for you to speak; instead “Take off your clothes.”

“Wh-what?” he heard the whispered question behind his back, barely audible but definitely there.

“I said, alright I'll do it.” he barely glanced at you over his shoulder as he got to his art supplies “You take off your clothes, (Y/n). I will I get everything I need ready for the painting.”

Maybe it was time for him to see your reaction this time, whatever sort of consequences it ended up having in the end. It could all be damned or it could all be worth it.

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