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An Artist's Muse (Pre-serum Steve Rogers x fem!reader)

"Paint me like one of your French girls." The movie in the background continued, but Steve wasn't paying attention after that line. The memories floated into his head before he could stop them and made his eyes well up with tears. He quickly excused himself and headed for his room.

Once there, he went into this closet and grabbed the package still wrapped in paper. The one he hadn't looked at since he woke up from the ice. He carefully unwrapped its contents and smiled when he saw the portrait. The one he did of you all those years ago. When you surprised him by asking him to draw you.

*back in the 40s*

"Why does this always happen to me?" Steve thought to himself as he watched you laughing with Bucky. "Why do I always fall for the doll I can't have?" You were Bucky's other best friend so you spent a lot of time with Steve too. For Steve, that was probably the hardest thing in the world. Seeing you all the time, knowing you would never be his. Not only was he too small and sickly for you, but he also couldn't seem to talk to you without tripping over his words.

So, he never said anything to you about what he felt. Instead, he kept to himself, writing his thoughts down. Or rather, drawing them. Without meaning to, Steve had come to see you as his muse. He drew pictures of you all the time. He kept his pictures hidden away as best he could, but you found them one day.

You and Bucky were visiting Steve shortly after his mother passed away. Steve and Bucky had gone out to grab a few things and you decided you were going to tidy up a bit and dust a little since Steve couldn't because of his asthma. While you were cleaning, you accidentally knocked one of Steve's books off a shelf and some papers slid out.

Thinking you had torn the book somehow, you picked up the book and pages to see if you could put it back together. Instead what you found were several beautifully done sketches of you. You sat there staring at Steve's drawings for several minutes, your heart racing in your chest. What did this mean? Did Steve have feelings for you or was he just looking for someone to draw? If it was the latter, why were they hidden away?

You didn't want Steve to know that you had seen his drawings yet, so you quickly put them away and placed the book back on the shelf. You continued cleaning absentmindedly. Your thoughts kept traveling back to the pictures you'd seen. They were good, very good. They made you look more beautiful than you actually were, but you still wondered why Steve had drawn them and then hidden them away.

The next day, you returned to Steve's home with a pounding heart. This time, you had come without Bucky. You knew Steve would deny your request right away if Bucky had come with you. He'd be nervous about it and you didn't want that. You liked Steve a great deal. He was sweet and adorable and funny. He had problems talking to women, but you found it endearing. That's why you wanted to do this.

You knocked on the door with a shaky hand. It opened a moment later and Steve looked at you in surprise. "Y/N?" You flashed him a smile. "Mind if I come in, Ace?" Steve shook his head and moved to let you in. Once you were inside, you felt the nerves kick in. "Bucky's not here," Steve told you sadly. "I know that. I came to see you."

"Me? Why?" You took a deep breath and set your purse down on the table. "I saw them, Steve. The sketches you keep hidden in that book." You indicated which book you were talking about and Steve's face turned as red as a tomato. "I'm sorry, Y/N! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Doll." You laughed softly.

"You didn't, Steve. I'm flattered and I wondered, well...that is, if you wanted to-" you cut yourself off because you knew you were rambling. "If I wanted to what?" he pressed, his face still red. "If you wanted to draw me for real, like a portrait of some kind. I'd really like to gift it to someone special and you're the only person I trust to get my features right." Steve's mouth hung open in shock. "Really? You want me to draw you? Like a professional?" You nodded. "Only if you want to. I'll even pay you if you agree to it."

"I won't take your money, Y/N." You smiled. You figured he wouldn't, but you had to try. "So you want me to do a portrait? You'd pose for me?" You nodded again. "W-Would it be, um-" he was struggling to say the word, so you supplied it for him. "Nude? It can be, but I will leave that up to you. I trust you, Steve." Steve cleared his throat after a minute and said, "I'll do it."

*time skip*

You posed as still as you could while you and Steve talked. His brows were furrowed in concentration and his hands were gliding over the page in front of him. He really was a talented artist and a considerate one. He would give you as many breaks as you needed and he never snapped at you to stay still except when he was sketching your face. And he apologized right after.

During your weeks of posing with him, you got to know Steve even more. When you weren't working on the portrait, Steve was too nervous to actually talk much, but when he was in his element, he opened up like a flower. It only made you like him more and you hoped he was enjoying your company.

He was. Steve loved sketching you and he really liked the conversation. He was grateful that he could draw while he talked because it made it easier for him to speak to you and get closer to you. The intimate setting and the fact that you were wearing a sheet didn't distract him because he was working.

What did distract him was the thought of you giving this to someone special. You'd never clarified who that someone special was so Steve could only assume you had a beau that you were close to. Perhaps you were even planning on marrying him. That hurt Steve, but he never showed it. Not until the portrait was done.

"It's finished," Steve declared sadly. You clutched the sheet to your chest and came around to look at it. Your jaw dropped and your eyes filled with tears. It was a masterpiece. "Steve, it's..." you couldn't seem to find the right word to tell him how you felt. "Is it bad? Do you not like it?"

"I love it, Steve. It's amazing. You make me look so beautiful." Steve laughed. "You are beautiful, Doll. You're the most beautiful dame I've ever met." You felt yourself heat up. "You're too sweet. Thank you for this, Steve." It nearly killed him to let you take his masterpiece. He didn't want another man to see what he had. He knew another wouldn't appreciate the beauty that he had captured.

As Steve was about to hand it to you, he froze. "I can't." Your smiled turned into an expression of confusion. "I can't let you take this and give it someone else." A frown made its way onto your lips. "Why not?" Steve sighed. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you like this. I want to be the only one...it makes me feel special. Like I have a special place in your life that no one else can take."

You let out a breathy laugh that turned into a giggle. "Oh, Stevie. You don't get it do you?" He asked what you meant. "I only asked you to draw me so we could spend more time together without Bucky. I never intended on giving that to anyone. It would be for my eyes only until or unless I marry. I don't plan on doing that anytime soon."

Steve stared at you in disbelief. "You only wanted to spend time with me?" You nodded. "Of course." Steve handed you the picture. "I'm glad. I've been carrying a torch for you for a long time," he admitted softly. You smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Me too, Steve."

Steve remembered the day he got the portrait back. He had come back to New York after the experiment and you were nowhere to be found. He searched for you and tried to call before he even went home. It wasn't until he had gone back home that he saw them. A letter attached to the front of a package. The letter told him that you had decided to become a nurse to help the troops and that you loved him and hope to see him again.

Then, Steve had opened the package to find the portrait he'd done. With the portrait there was another note. It read: "There's no one I'd rather give this to than you. Forever yours, Y/N." Steve treasured that portrait when he went on the ice and he stilltreasured it today. For him, it would always be a reminder of his first love and his greatest muse.