Prompt:
Can I haz a pre-serum Steve fic where he is your soulmate and ever since he
first started to draw, he drew you. And they get more and more realistic until
one day he recognizes you in the park as the girl from his drawings? Plz and
thank you either way.
Note:
Aaaawwwwwwww. Steve and Reader are in high-school.
Warnings:
None?
The drawings started when he was five. Steve
picked up a crayon in his tiny hand and sketched a very crude drawing of a
stick-figure girl with a red bow in her stringy hair. He couldn’t place her
name or where he knew her from, but he knew he would know her someday.
When Sarah saw Steve’s drawing, one word came
to her lips. Soulmate. Steve wasn’t
sure what she meant then. He was young. They hadn’t started to teach kids about
their soulmates in class yet, but he would know soon enough.
The next week in school, the teacher pulled
out a book about soulmates. She explained that every person on the planet had a
soulmate, and often times, people started drawing their soulmate or hearing
their name, but no matter what it was, they would meet them someday.
As he grew up, Steve clung to the hope that
the girl with the red ribbons in her hair was out there somewhere waiting for
him. He grew to love art, drawing, and often found himself mindlessly drawing
her, painting, dreaming about her at night.
He became so frustrated with himself for not
being able to capture every detail of her face the way he wished he could. But
if he was being honest, the only details he had were the ones that came out on
the paper.
Some pictures were good, some came out
better, but no matter the quality, one thing was always true, she was always
wearing a red ribbon in her hair in the shape of a big red bow.
Steve was seventeen. It was a Sunday
afternoon. Bucky had gone to work, and he was all alone, sitting against a tree
in the park. His sketchbook was resting against his knees as he continued to
sketch her, the girl with the red ribbons.
In this sketch, she was sitting on a park
bench, drinking a cherry coke and writing in a notebook. She was wearing a red
dress. Her hair was curled, and her lips were coated in cherry red lipstick.
Steve sighed, taking in all the details and shading in the shadows. This was
the best one yet, he decided. It looked like it could have been a picture.
Steve took a break and glanced up for a
second, only to see a girl in a red dress drinking a cherry coke and writing in
a notebook. His eyes went wide, flicking from the paper to the girl and back
again. The resemblance was uncanny. It was her.
In his heart, he knew he had to go over and
talk to her, but he stopped himself. She was so pretty. Gorgeous, the most beautiful
dame he had ever laid his eyes on. She could be a model, and he was…awaiting a
growth spurt that he knew was never going to come. Why would an angel like that
want a pipsqueak like him?
“You gotta go talk to her, Steve,” Bucky
scared the daylights out of him, coming out of seemingly nowhere.
“Bucky, I can’t.” he shook his head. “She’d
never like me like this.”
“Are you kidding me?” Bucky pulled him off of
the ground. “If you don’t go over there, I will.”
“Okay, okay, fine.” Steve sighed, took a deep
breath, and made his way toward her. “Um, hi there. I know you don’t know me,
but my name is-”
“Please tell me your name is Steve Rogers,”
you begged, looking up at him. He gasped, nodding wordlessly.
“How…h-how did you-”
“I have been writing your name all over since
before I could spell it right,” You confessed, showing him your notebook. Every
single page was filled with his name over and over and over in varying sizes,
colors, and fonts. He was shocked in the best way, smiling like an idiot. “I
never knew why…but…I feel like I kind of knew. You know, that you were…what we were…”
“Yeah,” he smiled, understanding exactly what
you meant. He showed you his sketchbook and you stood up, looking it over in
shaky hands. Sketch upon sketch upon sketch of yourself filled the book. “So
um, what’s your name?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” you introduced.
“Would it…are you okay with hugging? Can I hug you?”
“Y-yeah! Yes. Yeah, that’s fine,” he
struggled with the words, cheeks burning bright red as you enveloped him in
your arms, sighing in relief. He was real. He was here. He was in your arms,
where you knew he belonged. “You okay?” he asked gently.
“Yeah, I just…I’m so relieved. I can’t
believe you’re real. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Me neither.” He agreed. “God, you’re so
beautiful,”
“Steve,”
“Yeah?”
“Steve.”
“Yeah,”
“I just…I really like your name.” you
giggled, clinging to him tighter. He chuckled.
Toad's Cave 