Draw Me Your Worries | S. Rogers x Reader

Ch. 12 - Back Painting

It was a rainy Saturday, Steve was at y/n's apartment because she said she wanted to do a couple's art project with him. What he expected was modeling and painting each other, or painting half a canvas and switching, not for her to tell him to take his shirt off and that she was going to paint his back.

Laughing and going along with it, he stripped from his slightly damp leather jacket and button-up that was clinging to his skin, kind of glad to have the wet clothing off. She set out a towel for him on the floor, but when he laid down on it the width of it didn't exactly reach both of his shoulders.

"I think we need another towel," he said sheepishly.

Her eyebrows pinched together and she took the towel from him, grabbing the edges and holding it up against his frame. It almost came to the end of his collarbones, and the long sides reached a little past his knees.

She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. "I'll just get one of my tarps..."

He grinned. "Good idea."

She came back with a tan painting tarp and set that on the floor instead. He laid down on his stomach, the tarp covering his entire body and more.

"Much better," he commented as she knelt beside him, her hair knotted up in a bun and some paint supplies in hand. He folded his arms under his head and rested his chin on his forearm to look at her through the corner of his eye. "What're you planning on painting?"

"In other words, how long do you have to lay here?" He chuckled and nodded. "You'll see when I'm done."

"Okay, okay."

He felt the first cold, wet swipe of paint at the top of his right shoulder blade. It seemed like she was blending paint horizontally all the way to the bottom of his back. When the bristles touched closer to his sides, a shiver ran down his spine at the ticklish feeling.

She waited a couple of minutes for her first layer to dry before doing another one. This time she was dabbing a tinier brush along the small of his back. Much more precision and time went into this part.

She started talking to him, telling him a story about her and her friends when she was in high school. Every once in a while she would giggle to herself at the fond memories.

His eyes were closed while he enjoyed the sound of her soothing voice, the feeling of her hands, and the cold, pasty liquid all along his back. He had no idea what she was picturing for this, but he just rested his temple on his arms and let her do whatever she wanted.

"I have some news, actually," she piped up after she finished her story.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I got a call from Stark Industries this morning, and they said that they'd like to have an interview with me. Said they're considering me for a job position, instead of an internship."

Steve tried getting up to congratulate her. "That's great! I'm so proud of you-"

Her eyes blew wide as saucers. "Wait, Steve! Stay still, the paint!"

"Oh, right." He carefully set his body back down, remembering the paint sticking to his back. He turned his head to the side and admired her as she calmed down. "You deserve it, Daffodil. You've worked so hard for this."

"Thank you, Steve."

"I would kiss you, but you said to stay still."

She pouted and put down her painting supplies. "I'll just lean down like this," She bent down far enough so that her face was level with his, a large smile now adorning her features. "So you can still kiss me."