#rcwc

“Sir?” He chuckled. “Can you believe this girl Jensen?” 

Jensen glanced over at you, all laughter gone from his face. In it’s place was annoyance, and almost disdain. A look you had never seen from him before, and you scooted back in your chair, trying to get away from it. “Yeah, she’s something.”

The office was large and spacious. Framed prints of Supernatural filled the walls, awards placed proudly behind Jim. The desk was dark and masculine, matching the man sitting behind it. “I bet you’re wondering why we called you in here.” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice to talk. You had been wondering that exact thing since last night when you had received the email. It had left you with a sleepless night. That, with too much coffee had your hands shaking in your lap.

“You see, Jensen here is quite the catch,” Jim started off slowly, leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped loosely over his protruding belly. “He’s been deemed one of Hollywood’s hottest bachelors more than once.”

“Okay,” You whispered, wondering where the heck he was going with this.

Jensen took over, turning slightly in his chair. “You see, the attention can be...too much. Especially when I work a full week here, then head home to Texas to help run my brewery.”

“You have a brewery?” You hadn’t known that. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He was a very talented man, and was wealthy enough to dabble in whatever he wanted. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “And as much as I enjoy the bachelor life, the women throwing themselves at me has gotten…,”

“Out of hand,” Jim finished for Jensen, leaning forward. “And that’s where you come in.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth parting in a silent oh. You still had no idea why you were here. “We needed somebody, a woman, to step in and pretend to be Jensen’s fiance. It would help his public image. Along with that, it would hopefully put a stop to those showing up at his house...naked.”

“Naked?”

Jensen nodded. “I have this image I’m trying to keep. And it’s hard without…,”

“A woman to share it with,” Jim finished for him. “Sure, he’s had relationships, but…,”

Jensen rolled his eyes before reaching out and grasping your hand, surprising you. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I just want to be able to go to work, then head back down to Texas and run my brewery without the media and fans ruining it.”

“How can I help?” You asked, wondering how a production assistant could help Jensen out. 

Jim and Jensen glanced at each other, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to like what was going to be said. “We want you to pretend to be Jensen’s fiancee.”

Your mouth dropped open. You couldn’t help it. In your wildest dreams you had never imagined this is what they would have asked of you. “Fiancee?”

Jensen shook his head yes, and you could see him wondering if they picked the wrong person. “Yes, you would pretend to be engaged to me.”

“Why?” You blurted out. “Why me? Why the pretending?”

“Like we’ve explained,” Jim started slowly. “Jensen needs normalcy in his life. The media would go wild if he knew he was settling down with a woman. They’ve been trying to pair him up for years.”

“And as for you,” Jensen continued. “You’re somebody I see daily. You’re on the locked set with me. It could make sense that we met here and…,”

“Fell in love,” Jim finished for him. “I know this all sounds a little crazy, but it’s done all the time in showbiz. Hire someone to act like a fiancee, give it a couple of months then end it amicably. Listen, I’ll leave you two to figure out details. But Y/N, understand this. You will be doing all of us a huge favor. And if you don’t...well I’m not sure we could keep you on here at Supernatural any longer.”

“That’s...that’s not right,” you tried arguing, but he had already shut the door behind him. “He can’t do that!” You exclaimed to Jensen. “Fire me because I won’t be your fake..fiance.”

“So you won’t do it?” Jensen asked.

“I didn’t...I don’t…,” you stuttered.

Jensen stood up and began pacing the office. “Listen, I know this is a lot to take in. And a lot to ask. But please understand, I will do everything in my power to let you keep your job if you say no. But what’s the harm of doing this? You can still work here. I would have you move in with me, just for appearances. You would travel to Texas with me, help with the brewery down there. You would meet people, lots of people that could help your career move however you wanted it. And you would be doing me a huge favor.”

He pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his back pocket. “There’s also this as an incentive.”

With shaking hands you took the slip of paper, opening it to see it was a check. A very generous check at that. And you knew exactly what you would do with that money. Money that was so desperately needed.

You stared up at Jensen, your heart racing. He was handsome, you had always thought so. With that light brown hair always styled perfectly, his strong cheekbones and dreamy emerald eyes. Not to mention his plump lips, and those legs that jeans formed to so perfectly. Pretending to be engaged to him? That didn’t sound difficult at all. 

But on the other hand you would be living a lie. And you weren’t an actor. How could you make it work?

But with the pleading look he was sending your way, the words slipped from between your lips before you could stop it. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Thanks for reading. Tags are open.

READ CHAPTER 2

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82​ @acreativelydifferentlove​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @akshi8278​  @bebravekeeponfighting  @bi-danvers0​ @brindz30 @cap-just-said-language​ @colette2537​   @deansgirl215​  @flamencodiva​ @hamiltrash1411​ @its-not-a-tulpa​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @justanotherwinchester​ @just-another-winchester​ @karouwinchester​ @keikoraventeller​  @krys198478​ @librarygeekery​ @magssteenkamp​ @misspygmypie​ @mlovesstories​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​  @mrspeacem1nusone​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @ria132love​ @ruprecht0420​     @sortaathief​ @superseejay721517​ @squirrelnotsam​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @torn-and-frayed​ @tricksterdean​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​ @woodworthti666​

"He is not coming. He can be an asshole, but he is not as audacious as Kyle."

There was a hint of confidence flourishing inside your chest, although Alexis's persistence kept accelerating.

"He is famous, that makes you gain some audacity, thinking that it will allure people into doing what you want. I'm just saying, I'm here for you."

"Well, thanks. Did you talked to Kyle yet?"

"Fuck no! He can rot in hell for all I care about. That night was a disaster! The son of a bitch suddenly showing up."

You watch her squeeze her left thumb inside the other palm, harshly, before you shove the pile of bills under the glittery paperweight.

"Did he suddenly realized he wanted to be a father after ten years?"

She lets out a bitter chuckle.

"Appear at my front door with the most ridiculous, bushy mustache, like he just came out of a seventies porno." She huffs aggressively, archiving the blended expression of disgusted and angry.

"I couldn't even recognize him."

"Well, it's been years." You reminisce. " Did you really thought you could avoid it? At some point-."

An, almost discreet, movement next to the shelves interrupts the conversation.

The tired creak of the wooden floor exposed Nova, purposely or not. Judging by the posture shown seemed calculated. She had both hands inside the red apron, combined with a hint of annoyance spread on her features, very clearly portraited.

Alexis is dynamic, remaining natural regarding what her daughter could have listened to.

"Hey baby, are you ready to go?"

Nova sighs and her shoulders go down.

"No mom, I just arrived. What are you doing here?"

"I work next door, Nova."

"Still."

"Well, actually I wanted to take you all to eat something."

Cold lie, easy to spot, mainly because it was a fact that your sister hates to eat out, and that was why your niece's gaze, filled with doubt, was shot in your direction.

It didn't take a lifetime to recognize the type of moves, of which, Alexis would appeal for damage control. She needed to reassure her daughter, keep her on her side.

"She should have told him to go back the same path he came, but no, she just let him in." It was the following thing Nova said to you after arriving from school today, dropping her pink backpack into the ground behind the counter, followed by "I feel like she will accept him back at some point."

There was no remark on exactly when the pendulum of your niece's feelings towards Kyle became so stuck on the pure hatred side, although expected to happen at some point.

The complicated questions completely stopped at the thirteen. Alexis couldn't decide between relief or disbelief till browsing the history bar on the laptop while innocently- as she said- tried to find the recipe for cannolis and instead found Kyle's Facebook page, where he was incredibly active. There were photos, places, friends, trips, a lot of women, one of them Carly Raymond, his highschool sweetheart, who still had a perm.

There was nothing else for Nova to be curious about, and it is not your niece's fault technology was way easier to navigate for information than your sister was.

Alexis reacted cold, in the way you wouldn't expect, not actually trying to salvage the situation because a part of her would never forgive Kyle, the same part that wished Nova did the same.

"Was I supposed to lie to her? Make it worse, make her doubt me too? What he did is hateful, can I blame her? I was the one who always told me he would break her heart no matter what. He didn't even have to come here to do it, and do you think he is ashamed of all that crap online? Traveling, living his life around the world but not being able to come to see her, choosing this 'lifestyle' over here?"

"I know a good, quiet place, that opened down the street."

You ignited, but Nova kept the skeptical stare.

"Sounds great, come on Nov, get this apron off."

"Ok. We will have to talk at some point anyway."

You watch Nova give up, untying the apron behind her back, approaching the counter in slow steps, and leaving it there.

"That's my girl."

"Wait, I have to take something first."

Alexis watches her search inside her backpack as you got up from the chair, taking your sky blue Weichen wristband.

'Closed for lunch' in pink Sans Serif font as Nova made, was hanged on the inside of the glass door before you locked.

"Sorry for the inconvenience", advised to be added on by your niece was revoked by you since no one, not even Agnes would have felt inconvenienced by the closing. You still had the, sometimes, foolish hope of the weekends, when the streets would be fuller than now.

Leading the pace you could only hear Alexis's voice behind your back before you could spot the large Navy blue plaque of Ledbury restaurant and its crowded sidewalk, right next to Walmer Castle pub.

"Guys" You called. "There it is." You pointed front, towards the other side of the street, stopping on the sidewalk as the cars accelerated on the green light.

Turning around you capture your niece's smile as your sister whispered something in her ear. On Nova's hand, there was the same Smithsonian Magazine from this morning.

You forgot to tell Alexis about the way she sounded, reading on the drive to school an extended report about how brains are wired to capture and respond to emotions.

She held the magazine, folded in one hand while eating a Dairy Milk with the other, and in a very 'Alexis' tone discoursed: "Basically is just our brain responding to our way of thinking, even when we anticipate something in our minds. We don't even have to see it."

Your sister still whispered something towards Nova's ear, but the smile placed there died down as she looked, eyes wide, ping-ponging between you and something else that appeared to be amidst the crowd, standing on the other side. She pokes Alexis's arm with emergency.

Spreading as easy as the people starting to move again around you, the same tension, mirrored on their faces, irradiated on the pitch of your stomach right when sister's eyes went cold.

"Excuse-me." You hear, close to your right ear, remaining standing still.

"Oh, my God!" Another voice, a woman's voice as you can now notice as Alexis leaves Nova's side to grab your arm.

The woman's voice sounded alarmed and so does the beats of your heart as more people start murmuring.

"I can't believe it is him."

"Oh! Lord, it is Mike Levine."

Cars started to honk as the crossing street became fuller, and the crowd starting to form began to work as a magnet of more curiosity and obstacles, but Alexis's arm stood strong over your shoulders, navigating and crossing you to the other side.

You wished her arms were stronger than the temptation you blamed for making your back swerve.

There was a moment of not knowing what to expect till you came to realize expectations grew in a matter of seconds. There must be was a reason to want to look back at Mike Levine, surrounded by strangers all over, ungratefully creating an illusion of a time that didn't seem to pass.

He was still the same as you came to see once or twice in a free subscription magazine, but he wasn't plastic anymore.

For this part: Sambadrome:  parade area built for the Rio or São Paulo Carnival in Brazil. The venue is also known as Passarela or simply the Sambódromo in Portuguese. Feijoada:  a stew of beans with pork. Served with  white rice and oranges, as well as couve, a side dish of stir-fried, chopped collard greens, and a crumbly topping called farofa, made of manioc flour. Tutu:  consists of bean puree thickened with manioc flour or corn flour. Cracklings:  pieces of pork rind that have been fried until brown and crispy, and most of the fat has been rendered out. Manioc: commonly called cassava, manioc, yuca, macaxeira, mandioca, kappa kizhangu and aipim, is an edible starchy root. Often called yuca in Spanish America and in the United States, it is not related to yucca. Can be steamed, boiled, baked, or fried before being eaten on its own, mashed, or added to other dishes. Its starch is called tapioca.

Thank you @shellbilee​ for making sure I didn’t write anything weird. 

🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉🧉

It was raining.

I remember it clearly, because my hair was all frizzy in the reflection of the restaurant’s huge mirror by the entrance. There, as I hung my coat, I wondered if my life would ever change.

Being the middle child of a Brazilian couple established in the UK, and the last to be born in Brazil, I moved here when I was three years old.

Ever since, my parents have done their very best to make sure our culture is not lost, and insist on doing everything ‘the Brazilian way’. That included outings, making sure we studied Portuguese, our parties - including a very noisy carnival celebration with the broadcast straight from the sambadrome - family gatherings, social life, food.

So, when they opened the restaurant, of course it would have to be a family business, and of course all our time outside school would be spent holed in there. 

My sister lucked out, marrying (obviously) a Brazilian guy to my father’s content, his best friend’s son, as if they had been promised. But they loved each other, and I loved my three nephews, even if one of them was still on his way.

My younger brother, spending last summer holidays in our grandma’s house, in Brazil, met this girl he kept in touch with and from the look of things, they were pretty solid. He had a spring in his step as he worked in the kitchen - his feijoada was better than my mom’s - whistling when he wasn’t shouting at his sous-chef.

Which left me, in my early thirties, educated and skilled, to run the books for my dad in the restaurant. I knew I had talent for more and I could make more money, but talking to my dad once, as my graduation approached, made things quite clear to me.

“Our professor has contacts and said that I could find a job easily with my skills set!” I told my parents at dinner, my hands going wild with excitement. “And…” 

“What do you need a new job for?” my father asked, interrupting me. “ You’ve never complained about your job at the restaurant. Is your allowance not enough?”

His voice boomed louder with each phrase. He got up then, grumbling all the way into the kitchen to grab his nightcap.

I looked at my mom, who was looking at the threshold where my father had disappeared into. Her face was unreadable.

I lowered my head, trying hard to control the burning in my eyes as I held back my tears.

“Why must you bring up a subject like that during dinner? You know how he gets.” My mother sighed as my first tear fell. “I’ll talk to him.”

She got up then. My head shot up, my heart swelling with hope.

“Do you think he’ll come around?” I asked after a quick sniffle, with a shadow of a smile on my lips.

“Oh, you should know better than him. You do the bookkeeping.” She answered, waving a hand dismissively and turned to head to the kitchen.

“Mama, what do you mean?” I asked, honestly puzzled by her answer.

“Well, you’d know if increasing your allowance would be a problem for the business, wouldn’t you?” She shrugged and turned, disappearing into the kitchen.

I looked at my brother, who was intensely concentrated on his last spoonfuls of soup. He lifted his eyes to mine when the yelling started.

“They’ll come around eventually. Give them time.” he said as he grimaced. Apparently, he believed his words as much as I did.

That’s how I ended up staying, helping my father where I could.

And that day, with my mom sick with the flu at home, I was a waitress during opening hours and worked on the books after hours.

I was by the window, serving two plates of tutu, when I saw him.

Tall, towering over the people walking next to him, broad-shouldered, filling out the navy blue overcoat in such a nice way, I didn’t feel bad ogling as I noticed I wasn’t the only one.

He and his entourage sat by the far wall, and even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have gotten close to them. People definitely recognized him, and a good ten minutes of his time were spent on photographs and autographs.

Only after my dad got in there and told people to leave the man alone is that they were given menus, and my dad took their order himself as an apology for taking too long to intervene. The man told him he was used to it and that it was no problem.

Coming back to the counter, my dad put the order in my hand as I watched the group talk animatedly, my eyes mostly on him.

His eyes locked with mine.

“Did you hear what I just said?” my dad elevated his voice slightly, bringing the attention of many patrons to us and mine to him. “Get this to your brother. Prioritize it. Complimentary cracklings and fried manioc. I’m heading home to check on your mother.” he added, stern.

“Yes, father.” I lowered my head, and made my way to the kitchen.

He wasn’t the one to pay and the lunch rush got me too busy to have served them anyway.

I heard the waitresses talking, before we closed, that he was some super film star, but I was too tired to join the conversation and I still had to work the day’s numbers.

When I arrived home, I was glad to see my mom up and watching tv with my father sleeping, resting his head on her lap. I smiled at the scene and waved at her, making my way up the stairs to my room.

It felt like I had just closed my eyes when my alarm went off. 

My dad decided to stay home and make sure my mom wouldn’t overexert herself, which left me to “manage” the restaurant.

Things were pretty smooth until I was called. That never happened when my dad was there, so my brother and I exchanged a look.

Two gentlemen sat at the table in question, the one that had his back to me already middle-aged, his hair greyer than black. The one who sat facing me was completely bald, and had tiny, deep set eyes behind his round glasses. I didn’t recognize him.

“How can I help you gentlemen? Oh, Professor Mathison!” I said to the one who I couldn’t see before. “How nice to see you again!” I exclaimed, unable to contain my surprise.

“I’m happy to see you, too!” he replied “When I saw the name of the restaurant, I thought that maybe it could be your family’s. This is my partner, Kevin.”

We exchanged pleasantries and they invited me to sit with them to chat for a bit until the evening crowd was down to two tables when they said their goodbyes.

“So, what was so important that held you back for most of the night?” my brother asked me, concerned.

“It wasn’t a problem.” I said, still smiling and shaking my head at the frown on his brow. “That was my former professor in the Uni.”

“And you sat to reminisce?” he asked me with a bit of a scoff.

“No, they actually had a proposal.” I replied, averting my eyes to the look I was sure I’d see in his.

“Oh, dad won’t like that one bit. The day he chooses to leave things in your hands, you go and stab him in the back?” his accusatory tone irked me quite a bit.

“Excuse me? Stab him in the back? What the hell are you talking about, and who the hell you think you’re talking to Junior?” he straightened upon hearing the nickname I only used with him when he was being an ass.

“I’m sorry. But dad won’t like it anyway. What was this proposal all about?” he replied, his voice this time much milder, but still carrying a little discontent.

“They want me to work at their law firm. They need someone trustworthy to audit the companies they work for, so they know if they’re clean or if there’s money laundering, in case of lawsuits or investigations.” I explained, unable to hide my excitement.

“And you can do that?” his tone suggested genuine surprise.

“Yes. That’s why I studied as much as I did. This is everything I wanted.” I told him earnestly.

“And I bet you’ll make a lot more money.” he added, trying to hide the sarcasm but not quite managing.

It hurt me that he couldn’t be as happy for me as I was. But I understood. The things he wanted for his life didn’t matter to me, had and would never matter to me.

“Money is not what this is about. You know that. You all should know that.” my eyes burned with the tears I was holding back.

Mercifully, someone called me back to the dining hall.

“What is it Angela?” I asked the waitress.

“We have finished cleaning the hall and there’s one last order to be delivered, but Daniel has already left.” she told me with a grimace.

“I’ll deal with it. Does my brother have it?”

“Yes, Jean is already working on it. Good thing the man called when he did, because they were already starting to clean up the kitchen.” she added and said good night.

I said my goodbyes to her and the other waiting staff, to the cooks that were leaving, and waited by the kitchen for the order.

“What about the books?” my brother asked me.

“I’ll work on it tomorrow. I’ve left everything ready upstairs to do it as soon as I arrive tomorrow.” I answered, waving my hand dismissing his concern.

“You be careful!” he added.

“Yes, dad!” I replied. “It’s paid for, so I won’t be carrying cash around. Nothing to worry about. Deliver, drive home, shower, sleep.” I clapped after I finished just for effect.

“Yeah, that’s a great plan.” he said, handing me the bag with the order. “Goodnight, I’ll lock up. Be safe.”

“You too, goodnight.” and kissing his cheek, I left.

The night was chillier than I had anticipated and I had left my coat in the restaurant. I decided not to go back, otherwise the food would be cold by the time I delivered it, and turned on the heating as soon as I got into my car, rubbing my hands on my arms. The wool cardigan I was wearing wasn’t helping much.

London was already quieting as I drove through its wet streets. The light reflecting on the asphalt only added to the chill, and my hands on the steering wheel were painfully cold.

The trip to the address stapled on the brown paper bag was not a long one, which meant I was still not warm as I left the car to knock on the black door of the white house. It had to stay a few houses down the street in the only available spot, as the street was already littered with the residents’ cars parked for the night. All the houses on that street were white I noticed with a pfft.

Immediately after my knock, booming barks reverberated through the house and could have woken the Queen.

“Cow, cow, quiet!” came a command as loud as the bark had been.

That’s why the Queen lives in Windsor! I thought, smiling and shaking my head.

The door opened, and so did my mouth.

The man opposite me also looked surprised.

We stared, open-mouthed, at each other until it got weird.

“Your delivery!” I rushed the words out of my mouth, shoving the bag at him.

“You!” he exclaimed at the same time.

“Me?” I asked, and my face undoubtedly contorted into a puzzled frown.

“Thanks!” he replied, once more at the same time.

Still confused, I uncomfortably laughed. He did too, and I wanted to take a picture of that smile, making a mental note to never judge fangirls for the rest of my life.

I shivered involuntarily then, the cold overwhelming any warmth the butterflies in my stomach had generated.

His smile fell and he lifted a finger to tell me to wait, taking the bag from my outstretched arms. Our hands touched. His leaving a searing trail in their wake. 

He yelped at the contact.

“Your hands are freezing!” he said as he retreated, opening the door to what was probably his living room and putting the bag by a massive curious dog.

“Cow, leave!” he commanded.

He then opened a door to his right, probably a closet.

“Why did you name your dog Cow?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity.

He was still hidden in there and poked his head out, with a laugh.

“It’s not cow.” he said, diving back in there, and coming out with a coat draped on his forearm and gloves in his hand. “It’s Kal. K-A-L.” he spelled with a smile.

“Oh, what an odd name.” I wondered, under my breath.

“Here, put these on.” he said, and before I could protest was already holding the heavy coat open for me to slide my arms in. It was huge and engulfed me almost like a blanket. 

“Much better.” he whispered, as he tied a knot around my waist with its belt. “Put these on too, they’ll protect your icy hands.”

Words failed me as to why the gigantic man was so kind and pushy. Also, the smell of his cologne was intoxicating, it was hard to say anything as I inhaled deeply.

“Thank you.” I finally replied, and let go a long and deep sigh.

“Don’t mention it.” he said, smirking. “Just bring it back before spring.”

I stared at him for a second.

“It was a joke.” he said, the smile ever present.

“Oh.” I paused. “Is that a way to get me to come back?” I asked, a newfound boldness overtaking me. 

So many great things had happened so far, why not push my luck a little?

He puckered his lips, and looked up for a few seconds.

“What about dinner? Whenever you’re available?” his brows shot up to his hairline where his lovely messy curls waved in the icy breeze. He put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Nervous.

I frowned as I couldn’t fathom why such a man would be nervous about my reply. He must certainly have models lining up to dine with him.

“Thursday is my day off. I’d love to.” I answered smoothing my features, which led to him relaxing in turn.

“Smashing! I loved the food in your restaurant, but something tells me you’re fed up with Brazilian food.” he said, eyeing me from under his lashes, which was kinda comical with him being so tall.

“You’d be correct.” I replied, nodding. “What about Japanese? My friend owns this restaurant in Soho.”

“That would be perfect! At seven?” he asked, a contagious enthusiasm in his voice.

“Works for me.” I said, and there didn’t seem to be enough air in my lungs. I wanted to jump along the street like Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain.

The moment stretched as we stared at each other for a few seconds once again. Smiling this time.

Now if the objective me were to examine this scene from the outside, she’d see two dorks smiling at each other like fools. But she wasn’t around at that moment.

He finally sighed and cleared his throat.

“Will you give me your number?” he said, and it felt like he wanted to add something but decided against it mid sentence.

“Oh, sure, duh.” I picked up my phone from my pocket and handed it to him. 

As soon as he handed it back to me, I sent him a winking smiley face with my name. I looked up then and told him my name.

“Oh, shit, yeah! Forgive my lack of manners. I’m Henry.” he said, making a face, as if it were obvious. It must have been to the fangirls.

“So, see you Thursday, at seven.” I said in lieu of a goodbye, and waved briefly.

“See you then.” he replied. “Drive safely.” he added, when I was about to descend the last step.

I half turned and looked at him, haloed by the light coming from his entryway.

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For personal reasons, I do not read and will not accept into the challenge stories that include non-con/dub-con, underage sex, adult-child romantic/sexual relationships, spouse-bashing, child abuse -- I could go on, but I think you get the idea. If you’re not sure about something, I’m always happy to answer questions.

Characters and RPFs are welcome.

Bring on the ships, OFC’s, reader pairings -- I’m trying to be more open-minded as of late, but I can’t promise that I will read everything. Again, for personal reasons.

I’m running this challenge on multiple blogs, and you’re more than welcome to sign up for more than one fandom!

Other fandoms: SPN | John Krasinski (Actor & Characters) | Multi-Fandom

Prompts:

License to Wed (2007)

Secret Admirer (1985)

10 Thing I Hate About You (1999) @harley-sunday (Bucky) 

Fools Rush In (1997)

Isn’t It Romantic (2019)

Crazy, Stupid, Love (2011)

The Proposal (2009) @docharleythegeekqueen (Steve Rogers)

Sweet Home Alabama (2002) @captain-s-rogers (Chris Evans) | @fanfictionaries (AU Steve Rogers)

Sixteen Candles (1984) @past-perfect-future-tense (Bucky)

Better Off Dead (1985)

Pretty In Pink (1986)

Overboard (1987)

Look Who’s Talking (1989) @sunriserose1023 (Bucky) | @oh-its-nova (Steve Rogers)

The Wedding Singer (1998)

Never Been Kissed (1999) @captain-rogers-beard {Stucky)

One Fine Day (1996)

The Cutting Edge (1992)

Valley Girl (1983)

Pretty Woman (1990) @romaxnogersav (Steve Rogers)

It Could Happen to You (1994)

It’s Complicated (2009)

Something’s Gotta Give (2003)

You’ve Got Mail (1998)

Notting Hill (1999)

Serendipity (2001)

My Big Fat Greek Wedding (2002) @alyxkbrl (Henry Cavill)

Love Actually (2003)

Wedding Crashers (2005)

The Holiday (2006)

P.S. I Love You (2007)

Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008)

Easy A (2010)

Second Act (2018)

First Daughter (2004)

Music and Lyrics (2007)

What Happens in Vegas (2008)

He’s Just Not That Into You (2009)

The Prince & Me (2004)

Fever Pitch (2005)

Friends With Benefits (2011)

When In Rome (2010)

Letters to Juliet (2010)

Forces of Nature (1999)

200 Cigarettes (1999)

Reality Bites (1994)

Addicted to Love (1997)

Whatever It Takes (2000)

Can’t Hardly Wait (1998)

Coyote Ugle (2000)

America’s Sweethearts (2001)

Y/n looks at the wreath smiling and nods her head letting him take the wreath so she could put the others back. Placing it in their trolley they walk around gathering a few more items then head to the check out. Drew ushers y/n into the car having her warm it up while he loads their bags turning on the Christmas CD y/n cranks up the heat. The ride home is spent with y/n singing loudly to the radio and laughing at the few lines Drew throws in. When they finally arrive home they grab their bags quickly getting in out of the cold snow and icy wind.

"Okay my love what are we decorating first?"

"Let's hang garland around the ceiling then we can add some lights and go from there."

Y/n smiles happily, as she pulls out the red and green garland, handing it to Drew to hold while she digs out the tacks. Working together, they managed to hang the garland around the ceiling then in entwining lights with it. Adding a few more decorations around the house y/n turns her attention to the tree.

"Drew baby? Are you ready to decorate the tree?"

"Go ahead and start I'm busy."

"What are you doing?"

"Decking the halls."

He chuckles knowing y/n would be rolling her eyes and he was correct grabbing the lights y/n begins winding them around the tree. Standing on her tiptoes she manages almost the whole tree apart from the top damn Drew and his need for a tall ass tree. Leaving the top bare y/n begins on the garland wrapping the shiny material around the tree.

"Um lass? Why is the top bare?"

"Because not everyone is as tall as you and this tree Drew I couldn't reach it so if you want it decorated you'll have to do it."

Drew chuckles as he finishes wrapping the lights and garland around the tree.

"What's next?"

"The decorations we'll save the tinsel for last."

She smiles dragging the large box over to sit next to the tree, going into the kitchen she quickly makes two hot chocolates and a get a plate of Christmas cookies to enjoy while they decorate.

"Turn the music up and let's start decorating start decorating!"

Y/n cheers as she grabs a few ornaments and begins hanging them on the tree. Drew grabs a few as well the two working together to decorate the tree humming along to the music. By the end they're both singing to Winter Wonderland and Drew has his arms wrapped around Y/n's waist lifting her to place the tree topper on.

"The tree looks beautiful!"

"Aye sure does my love."

Drew smiles kissing y/n softly then leading her to sit on the couch to finish their cookies and hot chocolate. Drew lays the blanket from the couch over their legs, y/n curls into Drew's side watching the lights slowly blink.

"I'm so excited for Christmas."

She says softly kissing Drew's cheek playing with his fingers Drew kisses her lips softly smiling.

"I am too baby, how about we go celebrate a little early."