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underthemoon-and-stars · 5 years

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Art Brought Us Together- Preserum Steve X Reader

This is a lil present for Steve’s Birthday so!!! Happy Birthday you cutie!!! -Selenophile

He was an artist.

was

Now he’s fights in Germany, dancing along to death’s ballet with unskilled HYDRA soldiers. He’s become the American Dream for so many back on the home front. He’s the star-spangled man with a plan, advertising war bonds - a term he probably never understood, since after all he dropped out of high school - to inspire nationalism among the population.

Steven Grant Rogers was the one, the only, Captain America.

At one point, though, he was an ordinary everyday artist. Attending painting class every Monday. Sketch every Tuesday. Perspective on Wednesday, etc etc. Missing his train by 5 minutes due to his disorganization. Always having at least 1 or 2 blotches of crimson decorating his skin or white collared shirt.

Sickeningly skinny. Asthma ridden windpipe. Blistered knuckles. Beautiful baby blue eyes that told a million stories his mouth couldn’t.

That was the Steven Grant Rogers you knew. That’s the Steve you fell in love with.

Both of you met in an advance art class in the center of Brooklyn. You were drawing out the basic shapes of the fruit bowl when he stumbled into his chair. Your eyes couldn’t help but dart over to the young man. You heard his heavy-as-a-ton gasps of air, you watched the gross salty beads of sweat drip down his brow. What caused the struggle? He was 15 minutes late to the first class. Missed his train by 3 minutes ( which later wouldn’t surprise you as much ). His small hands swiveled down into his bag and-

Nothing was in there.

You had to help him out at this point.

“Here” You spoke up softly, sliding a piece of sketch paper his way. “just take some of my paper”

His head gently turned towards you, the redness of his cheeks resembling a perfect cherry tomato. Not only was he embarrassed he left all his stuff at home, you were just simply gorgeous. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty voice.

Overwhelmed, he took the paper rather slowly. His thank you came rather slow too. With a nod of your head, he turned away and started to work.

You didn’t think much of him after that. The skinny little boy who sat next to you in art and occasionally needed paper was just that. Of course, you thought he was adorable, but just not your type. The disorganized life he lead just wasn’t for you.

That thought all changed though.

It was late at night, at least two months into the corse when your changed your mind on the boy.

You braved the streets of Brooklyn, hoping for a smooth night. You didn’t not receive that. Cat-Calling lead to name calling which lead to you being followed. You had so many fears in your mind. Were you going to be attacked? Robbed? Worsening thoughts came to your mind as you found yourself running away from two big men behind you. Alleyway was a dead end. You mumbled your last goodbyes, blew a kiss up to your parents, and prayed you’ve been good enough for the afterlife.

Until you heard him

“Leave her alone!! She’s done nothing to deserve whatever you plan on doing to her!”

It was the kid who sat next to you in art. Small, skinny and ready to fight.

The two men laughed real hard.

“And what are you going to do about it?” One of them bruted.

Blinking was such a bad thing to do. One minute the men where approaching the little man, the next both of them were holding their jaws and you were being ran out of the alley.

The boy’s asthma catched up with him though, and they were blocks away from your apartment. Luckily, you were close to his. That’s were you hid for the night.

He placed you down on an old ottoman, fetching you a glass of somewhat cool water.

The first thing he asked you was: “are you hurt?”

You shook your head no in response. Weakly taking sips of your drink, you saw his sigh of relief.

“Thank god your-“

You can’t help but interrupt him “No no, thank you. Without you I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. I don’t ever wanna find out what would happen to me.”

Heat returned to his cheeks, just like they did on the first day you two met.

“Ah shucks, it was my pleasure”

The room went silent before you finally learned your hero’s name.

“Oh, I’m Steven Grant Rogers. Steve is just fine though. And You are?”

“Y/N”

“It’s a pleasure to finally know you Y/N”

From there on out, it was smooth sailing between you two.

He wouldn’t let you walk home alone anymore. Some nights it was you and him, sometimes his friend Bucky tagged along. Either way, you two wouldn’t shut up about art and books and yourselves until you arrived home safely.

One night, while the sun hung real low in the sky and the moon was waiting for its chance to shoot into the atsmosphere, he asked you a question.

“Can I take you out somewhere, someday pretty girl?”

Your smile widen. “You may Steve”.

That first date became the best date of your life. He set up a nice picnic in the park. You two laid on the comforting green grass for hours. You just enjoyed being with him, and he was enfatuated with the ideas of seeing and being with you.

That night you slipped you fingers together. It was a perfect puzzle. Interlocking them wasn’t painful, nor uncomfortable. Your hands just fit so well together.

It was destiny.

You two continued going on dates after that. Movie dates, Dinner dates, Park dates, Art Dates. One day he took you into New York City just so you could say you’ve been. After each date you became more intimate with him.

On the first date you held hands, the second date you held each other in a big hug. The third date you spooned his cute little body snug into your chest. Forth included waist holding, Fifth included arm clinging. It wasn’t till the ninth date when he kissed your cheek, prompting you on the tenth to kiss his plush, pink lips for the first time.

It was magic the way you two kissed. You felt your stomach flip, he boticed fireworks exploding in his heart. His hands made their way to their rightful places on your cheeks. Gentle thumbs rubbed the soft skin you beheld. Now, your hands met his hips, where rubbing the bone made him giggle and blush more. Both lips danced together in a rhythmic motion. It reminded you of your hands: perfectly interlocked.

He moved into your place a month later. You cuddled every single night, anyways switching positions time to time. Little did you know he was moving back out a month later.

“War...stevie, your joking....”

“I need to play my part, Y/N. People need my help...”

“You act as if your the only man out of that battlefield...”

Tears spill out of your eyes. His little arms wrapped around you. Steve was such a sweetheart and you were about to loose him to war. You wish you could stop him, but you knew that was impossible. That big heart of his didn’t stop him back in the day, it won’t stop him now.

“Fine...but I want you to give me the best night of my life before you go, do you understand me?”

“Always”

And so, that night finally came around. Bucky left a long time ago. He had no choice as he was drafted. But Steve. Steve was to leave for a Jersey training camp at 6 am. He could stay. They could kick him out for all his physical ailments. They wouldn’t though. He’s already gotten this far on lies.

He sits next to you on the bed. Your body immediately collapses into his

“Don’t leave stevie...I need you here with me”

“Y/N, you know I’ll return to you”

“And if you don’t?”

Steve laughed a bit before he said “then you can fetch me out of my grave and kill me again for hurting such a beautiful girl like you, my wife”

You pause, allowing your head to tilt off to the side. “Wife?”

Steve slides a golden band on your finger. “Wife. I’m going to marry you after the war, if you allow me to that is”

You sit up, raindrops falling from your cloudly eyes. You never nodded so hard in your life.

He keeps his promise too. He gives you the best night of your life. You honestly couldn’t believe he had such talent in him.

“Congratulations Stevie, you have taken away my virginity” you say between your pants.

“Mine as well, Y/N”

You wake up to an empty bed. Well, not completely empty. There’s a note that reads “I love you more then I ever loved anyone else. I’ll see you before you know it”

Before you know it was 80 years later. At 97 years old, your son, Steve, places you in an elderly home. He visits you at least once a week. This day, though, it wasn’t your son Steve visiting you. It was a past husband of yours.

“Y/N....my name is St-“

“What took you so long? I was starting to think I had to beat your ass in heaven. “

He laughed weakly, your hands interlocking perfectly. Just like they did back then.

“I love you Y/N....my wife”

“And I love you Steve....my husband”

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