Summary: The pandemic comes through to save you from an unwanted fake dating relationship ... yeah. Unwanted. Right?
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word Count: 600
Warning: Cliche type fluff. COVID-19-related discussion -- nothing serious, no political stances, etc. It’s essentially just a plot device here.
Square Filled: Fake Dating for @marvelfluffbingo
A/N: Shoutout to @captain-s-rogers for inspiring me with your Chris Evans fangirling! ;)
One date. You were only supposed to have one date with Chris Evans, so that he could have some arm candy for a red carpet experience. Though you weren’t entirely sure of the chemistry between the two of you, the media was — and both publicity teams jumped on the opportunity. One date turned into one year. You agreed, reluctantly, and thus began your fake dating relationship.
Six months into the agreement, the entire United States was in an state of ordered lockdown, thanks to the coronavirus pandemic. You were hanging out with Chris at his house — under the close eye of the paparazzi, of course — when the call from your PR agent came.
“You’re off the hook, I guess,” she informed you. “With social distancing and lockdown and everything, you two can’t be going back and forth. His team acknowledges that, too, so we’re calling the deal fulfilled.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
You ended the call and frowned; what was this weird feeling you had? Not that you minded Chris, but the entire dating situation had been coerced, a farce. Social distancing had come to your rescue here. You could get on with your life, eventually meet someone for real.
“But I don't want to distance from him.”
You said it, out loud. The words caught you by surprise but were quickly followed by a smile. Sometime in the last few months, you had actually developed feelings for Chris; he made you laugh, was respectful of your boundaries within the whole agreement, he did nice things when he didn’t have to do them. Sometimes it was entirely in private, too, when no one was watching. Maybe there was a chance …
He was still in the living room, lounging on the couch. He looked up when you returned, tossing the remote on the coffee table.
“I got the call, too,” Chris said, stretching his arms above his head before twisting one way and then the other to crack his back. “Guess we’re off the hook.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what my girl said. I guess …”
Chris licked his lips. “Food’s already on the way. We can eat before you go, if you want.”
You nodded. “Mmhmm, yeah. I was thinking, actually, maybe we — I mean, yeah, we can eat first, but maybe I’ll just — I mean, if you’re interested and this isn’t too forward or assuming, maybe we could, you know, tough out this lockdown together.”
The last of the sentence came out of your mouth in a rushed rambling of words. You prayed to God that Chris had understood what you said because you weren’t sure you had the courage to repeat yourself. As it were, he smirked and stood up from the couch, coming towards you with a look that made you want to rip your clothes off then and there.
“Is this part of the act?” Chris asked as his hands gripped your hips.
You shook your head. “It’s not. At all.”
He smiled and tugged you closer to him — however that was possible. “We could be stuck together for a while, you know. They say a few weeks, but this could go on for months.”
Your hands rested on his forearms before sliding up to his shoulders. You gave a little shrug. “I’m game, if you are.”
“I’m game,” Chris whispered against your lips.
In the next second, Chris was pressing his mouth to yours in a first kiss so sweet, you knew that, even if the pandemic did go on for months, it wouldn’t be enough time to steal all the kisses you wanted from this amazing man.
Summary: It’s your wedding day, and Chris can’t quite contain himself.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word Count: 665
Warnings: None?
A/N: Thank you so @captain-s-rogers for the prompt! It’s bolded in the fic :) I’m still looking for more one-shot ideas, so feel free to ask!
Clearing his throat and straightening his bowtie, Chris casually meandered up to the third floor of the hotel where his wedding ceremony would be taking place in an hour or so. Maybe if he took the stairs this time, he could get through.
He had been looking forward to this day almost since the moment he had met Y/N. She was beautiful, that he knew instantly; but when their mutual friend introduced her and she graced him with that gorgeous smile … from that moment on, Chris was gone, and there was no coming back.
As he reached the top of the steps, he thought back to their disastrous first date. He had planned a perfect picnic in a park, planned a walk around the pond, talking and getting to know each other. Thanks to traffic, he was an hour late meeting her to begin with. They were in the middle of some delicious sandwiches when rain started to pour out of nowhere. Chris cursed out loud, but Y/N only laughed and grabbed his hand, running for the nearest shelter. With water dripping from head to toe, lightning and thunder going off around them, Chris pulled her to his chest, and Y/N tilted her head up for their first kiss.
Chris’s smile was unmistakable as he approached the door where Y/N was getting ready with her bridesmaids. He just needed a glimpse of her before they walked down the aisle, a quick fix before the big moment. He needed to know that this was indeed his reality, and that she would really be there at the altar with him not so far in the future.
The door was cracked open so that everyone could come and go as necessary without needing a key. As quietly as possibly, Chris leaned in to the open door, a not-so-stealthy attempt to steal a peek at his very-soon-to-be bride.
Just as suddenly as the storm had crashed their first date, Y/N’s best friend, nicknamed Omaha, crashed his mission. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him.
“Didn’t I kick you out already?”
“Yes, but —”
“No. Out.”
Her friend only missed kicking him in the ass because her dress wouldn’t let her leg reach that high. He turned in the hallway and pleaded his case.
“I know she can do better than me, you know? Y/N is … there are no words. But she picked me. She’s gonna marry me. And I need to see her, to know that this is real.”
Omaha looked at him, her expression soft and sappy. “I get it, Chris, I do — but if I let you see Y/N before she walks down the aisle, I’m gonna end up with one of her pretty bridal heels up my ass. So, stay out.”
The door slammed in his face, a final note of resounding defeat. Snapping his fingers, Chris made was for the elevator and headed back down to the main floor.
An hour and seven minutes later, the time had come. The guests were all seated in the banquet hall, the mothers had been escorted in, as had the grandparents. Chris’s groomsmen were lined up behind him, and Y/N’s bridesmaids, including Omaha, were lined up on the opposite side.
The doors at the back of the hall closed, but Chris only got a brief look at the man walking Y/N down the aisle before they closed all the way.
Just a few more seconds, he told himself.
Time stood still for a quarter of a second; then there was music playing, and the guests were standing. The doors were opening again, and everything else floated away. Not even the man beside her, all Chris saw was the woman in the white dress. The one walking toward him, waiting to start their forever together.
The moment Chris had been waiting for since that first smile from Y/N was finally here.
Summary: Your mission for curtains is more than just house decor.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word Count: 870
Warnings: Fluff, domestic bliss, predictable.
Square Filled: Curtainfic - @marvelfluffbingo
A/N: This is for my dear friend @captain-s-rogers. Love ya, Ash!
You knew that spending an afternoon in Bed, Bath, and Beyond wasn’t Chris’s favorite activity, but he had committed his open Saturday to you and the final decor in the house the two you had purchased together a little over a year ago. The small room down the hall from the bedroom the two of you shared was the last to be finished. Part of the delay was not knowing what to do with the room, but one day, the idea clicked. You had impatiently waited for Chris to have time to start the decorating process with you, and now here the two of you were, growing the curtain selection in the big store.
“These are nice,” Chris offered, gesturing toward a neutral-gray colored panel. “We have those extra curtain rods that we can hang, would really complement the color nicely.”
You shrugged and kept moving through the aisle. You had a specific shade in mind, and while it wasn’t fair to not fill Chris in on your idea completely, you had it in your head that this was going to go a certain way. Anything that might send your plan off track could likely send you into a frenzy.
“How do you feel about these?” you asked, pulling a pretty, pale green curtain in front of you. “They’re a light color, but they’re heavy enough to block out the natural light if necessary. But not too bulky.”
Chris came forward, placed his hands on your hips, and kissed the tip of the nose. “Well, the color certainly brightens your eyes. I’m all for that. I thought you wanted neutral colors throughout the house so you could accent them however you wanted? Are curtains an accent?”
You shrugged again. Chris trailed behind you, always a hand on your hip or in your hand or hugging you to his side. You pointed out a few more options, but the both of you came back to the pale green. Twenty minutes later, the purchase was made.
“I just can’t get over how much that green brings out your eyes,” Chris said on the drive home, kissing your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to get too much PDA going in public there. I’m quite taken with you, Y/N.”
You giggled. “I would hope so, since we bought a house together and, last time I checked, we plan on spending our lives together.”
“That we do.” He kissed your hand again and then did his best to concentrate on the road so the two of you could get home safe.
With the curtain rods and newly-washed panels in hand, you and Chris headed down the hall to hang the curtains — well, Chris did all of the measuring and leveling and hammering and hanging. You supervised carefully, making sure the curtains were exactly how you had pictured them.
Finally, Chris stepped off the ladder and stood with you to look at his handiwork. “I am very much liking this. Great job picking out the shade, babe.”
“Thanks,” you said, mouth suddenly dry. “You know, it’s funny, it was actually this gift bag that gave me the idea to look for something like that green.”
You held the bag out on a finger, grinning excitedly. Chris raised his brow, taking the bag from you.
“We got those curtains because of this gift bag?”
You nodded. “C’mon. Open it.”
With a sigh, Chris tossed the tissue paper aside and pulled out the picture in the bag. He let the bag drop to the floor as he studied the picture. His eyes watered and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” you smiled, standing next to him so you could see the sonogram, too. “I wanted to be sure before I said anything, and I had a doctor appointment while you were out of town last week. Happy and healthy baby, so far — although, we are only about ten weeks in.”
Chris shook his head. He couldn’t believe that he was going to be a father; that he had made a new life with the love of his life. Then, it dawned on him.
“The curtains are to make this room a nursery!”
You laughed. “Yes, exactly! I knew you’d get it eventually. I’m just glad you didn’t start asking questions before I could show you the sonogram.”
Chris wrapped his arms around you and twirled you off your feet. He had no idea how he was going to get through the next thirty-or-so weeks, as excited as he already felt. He set you back down to kiss you, and something else dawned on him: the brightness of your eyes had nothing to do with the shade of the curtains and everything to do with the baby, and getting to share the news with him. He pressed his forehead against yours and promised to be the best daddy there ever was.
“I know you will be,” you assured, “I have no doubts. I love you, Chris.”
“I love you, Y/N,” Chris returned. Then, his eyes watered all over again as he knelt down in front of you. He let his forehead fall against your tummy. “And I love you already, little baby.”
Summary: It’s your wedding day, and Chris can’t quite contain himself.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word Count: 665
Warnings: None?
A/N: Thank you to @captain-s-rogers for the prompt! It’s bolded in the fic :) This is an edited re-post from my multi-fandom blog.
Clearing his throat and straightening his bowtie, Chris casually meandered up to the third floor of the hotel where his wedding ceremony would be taking place in an hour or so. Maybe if he took the stairs this time, he could get through.
He had been looking forward to this day almost since the moment he had met Y/N. She was beautiful, that he knew instantly; but when their mutual friend introduced her and she graced him with that gorgeous smile … from that moment on, Chris was gone, and there was no coming back.
As he reached the top of the steps, he thought back to their disastrous first date. He had planned a perfect picnic in a park, planned a walk around the pond, talking and getting to know each other. Thanks to traffic, he was an hour late meeting her to begin with. They were in the middle of some delicious sandwiches when rain started to pour out of nowhere. Chris cursed out loud, but Y/N only laughed and grabbed his hand, running for the nearest shelter. With water dripping from head to toe, lightning and thunder going off around them, Chris pulled her to his chest, and Y/N tilted her head up for their first kiss.
Chris’s smile was unmistakable as he approached the door where Y/N was getting ready with her bridesmaids. He only needed a glimpse of her before they walked down the aisle -- a quick fix before the big moment. He needed to know that this was indeed his reality and that she would really be there at the altar with him not so far in the future.
The door was cracked open so that everyone could come and go as necessary without needing a key. As quietly as possibly, Chris leaned in to the open door, a not-so-stealthy attempt to steal a peek at his very-soon-to-be bride.
Just as suddenly as the storm had crashed their first date, Y/N’s best friend, nicknamed Omaha, crashed his mission. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him.
“Didn’t I kick you out already?”
“Yes, but —”
“No. Out.”
Her friend only missed kicking him in the ass because her dress wouldn’t let her leg reach that high. He turned in the hallway and pleaded his case.
“I know she can do better than me, you know? Y/N is … there are no words. But she picked me. She’s gonna marry me. And I need to see her, to know that this is real.”
Omaha looked at him, her expression soft and sappy. “I get it, Chris, I do — but if I let you see Y/N before she walks down the aisle, I’m gonna end up with one of her pretty bridal heels up my ass. So, stay out.”
The door slammed in his face, a final note of resounding defeat. Snapping his fingers, Chris made was for the elevator and headed back down to the main floor.
An hour and seven minutes later, the time had come. The guests were all seated in the banquet hall, the mothers had been escorted in, as had the grandparents. Chris’s groomsmen were lined up behind him, and Y/N’s bridesmaids, including Omaha, were lined up on the opposite side.
The doors at the back of the hall closed, but Chris only got a brief look at the man walking Y/N down the aisle before they closed all the way.
Just a few more seconds, he told himself.
Time stood still for a quarter of a second; then there was music playing and the guests were standing. The doors were opening again, and everything else floated away. Hardly noticing the man beside her, all Chris saw was the woman in the white dress. The one walking toward him, waiting to start their forever together.
The moment Chris had been waiting for since that first smile from Y/N was finally here.
Summary: Sometimes when you want someone, you have to prove it to them.
Pairing: Chris Pratt x Reader
Word Count: 2160
Warnings: None, unless you don’t like fluff!
Challenge: This is a transfer from my multi-fandiom blog. I wrote it a while back for Ash’s ‘90s Challenge. My prompt was Shape of My Heart by BSB – I went more with the spirit of the song. @captain-s-rogers
The summer day was cool, even for Seattle. Chris zipped up his jacket and continued his trek from the pier where the ferry had docked, to the farmers’ market he visited one or two weekends every month. Sometimes he brought cuts of lamb to barter for other products, but today he came with only his backpack and his wallet.
Customers and merchants alike were bustling around the market. There wasn’t a bad time to be part of the crowd, but Chris always preferred to come out mid-morning so that he could get his purchases done and return back to his home on San Juan Island to enjoy the rest of the day.
“Mr. Pratt, I have fresh spinach bunches, just for you!” an old man called to him.
Chris smiled and made his first stop of the day at Mr. Lewis’s greens stand. “You’re too kind. Thanks for setting them aside for me.”
“Of course, of course,” the elderly man replied. “Have you seen Y/N yet today?”
“Just arrived, actually,” Chris said, chuckling through the slight blush that dusted over the tops of his cheeks. “She busy today?”
“As always,” Mr. Lewis replied.
Chris nodded and handed the man a couple of bills to pay for the spinach. He put the paper-wrapped vegetable in his backpack. He waved to Mr. Lewis and promised to stop by on his way back to the ferry.
As he made stop after stop at various stands, filling his backpack and visiting with the regular vendors, Chris took his time getting to Y/N’s stand. She sold flowers mostly, but occasionally set out fruits and vegetables if she had an overabundance from her garden. He had met her on her first day at the farmers’ market, fell in love with her laugh the first time he heard it, and did whatever he could when they crossed paths to make her smile. Her flowers often graced his kitchen table, giving him justification to think about her on the days between his visits to the market.
Mr. Lewis wasn’t the only one aware of his attraction to the woman, thanks to several inquiries Chris had made during his first few visits after meeting her. He hadn’t been told a single bad thing, and had mustered up the courage to casually ask her out for dinner — a few times, actually. Despite his persistence, Y/N always laughed him off, told him the joke was going to get old one day, and to let her know when he found an actress or singer or someone else in the entertainment industry that had captured his heart.
Until he figured out how to convince her that he was serious, he would just have to make due with seeing her during these visits to Seattle.
Backpack almost full, Chris finally made way to Y/N’s stand. She smiled and waved her acknowledgement of his while she finished up with a couple of customers, then sauntered down where he was checking out her selection of dahlias.
“These are even fuller than your last batch, I think,” he mentioned.
Y/N nodded. “I’ve been singing to them.”
“Really?” Chris raised his brow.
“No,” she laughed. “The whole crop of them would be dead if I did that.”
Chris laughed with her. “Well, you got me. How’s life, Y/N/N?”
She shrugged. “Life is life. I plant, I grow, spend time with friends and family. The usual. Oh! I only had a couple of extra heirloom tomatoes, and you’ve got to take them home. They’ll go with anything, but I’ve been eating them on their own, actually.”
Y/N busied herself with searching through the crumped paper bags with her belongings, coming up with two, plump, bright red tomatoes. She handed them to Chris, and he pointed to the dahlias.
“I’ll take a bunch of those, too.”
“Tomatoes are on the house; five for the dahlias.”
They finished out their transaction, Chris put the tomatoes in his backpack, and kept a careful grip on the dahlias. He opened his mouth to say something more, but Y/N cut him off.
“No.”
Chris frowned. “No, what?”
“Chris,” Y/N sighed. “You’ve been coming to my stand for almost four months now, and every time you’ve asked me to dinner, I tell you no. Thanks to Mr. Lewis, I’ve caught on that you’re not joking, but I still think you’re crazy. I’m happy to see you when you come by and I —” She held up her hands and shook her head. “Anyway, the point is, you deserve better than me. You’re way out of my league.”
“That was very honest,” he said, not sure what to make of her answer.
Y/N shrugged. “I’m an honest person.”
Gripping the dahlias a little tighter, Chris leaned forward and spoke so only she could hear him. “You and I are not a crazy idea, and I’m going to show you how serious I am. Just you wait and see.”
He held her gaze a moment longer, then sauntered back towards Mr. Lewis’s stand for some help with the plan already forming in his mind.
* * * * *
Y/N was packing up the few vegetables and flowers left on her table at the end of the day, ready to get home and relax, when Mr. Lewis approached her.
“You had a successful day, it looks like,” Mr. Lewis commented.
Y/N smiled and handed him the last bundle of dahlias. “For Mrs. Lewis — and you’re right, I did have a good day.”
Mr. Lewis smiled his appreciation. “Sophie will love these for the dinner table. Oh, speaking of dinner … this is a huge favor to ask, but I do hope you’ll humor an old man. The church Sophie and I attend has a father-daughter dinner every year, but my daughter isn’t able to attend this year. It’s tonight, which I know is last minute, but perhaps you’d accompany me?”
Y/N smiled. “Of course, Mr. Lewis. I don’t usually make big plans after farmers’ market day, anyway.”
“Then I’m in luck.” He waited for her to write down her address, then tucked the paper safely into his pocket. “I’ll see you just before seven, my dear.”
“I’ll be ready.”
The two friends said their see-you-laters before parting ways. On her way home, Y/N mentally flipped through her closet, deciding which dress would be most appropriate for the event. She wouldn’t have much time to get ready by the time she got home, but she would make it work.
* * * * *
Y/N smoothed out her yellow dress, primped her curls, and checked her makeup in the hallway mirror before answering the door for Mr. Lewis.
“Ah, you look lovely,” he complimented. “Ready?”
Y/N nodded, accepting the elbow he offered to escort her to his car; she noted that he was still in the same clothes he had been wearing at the farmers’ market and felt over-dressed. Not wanting to be rude, Y/N kept the thoughts to herself, instead engaging in small talk with the older man as he navigated through Seattle traffic.
“Mr. Lewis?”
“Yes.”
Y/N bit her lip, hesitating in asking the next question. “I don’t mean to seem rude or anything, but — this seems like the way to the farmers’ market.”
“Yes.”
Y/N frowned then. The man was being tight-lipped for a reason, she was now catching on. The conversation stopped as she tried to figure out what in the world was going on. She didn’t get to wonder for long as they were pulling into a parking space at the market, and Mr. Lewis was coming around to open the door for her. She stepped out and her attention was caught by the candlelight in the distance.
“Go ahead, dear,” Mr. Lewis encouraged. “And hopefully once you’re completely in the know, you’ll forgive me for this little trick. I’ll wait here in case you don’t want to stay — although I’ll be very surprised if you don’t.”
Fear never crossed her mind, only confusion. Y/N made her way across the market lot, towards the candlelight. Her breathing was heavy as excitement took over her emotions; she still didn’t know what was happening, but her interest was piqued enough to keep moving towards the candlelight.
There had to have been at least one hundred candles lit all around the area of the market where she set up her booth. The overhead lights helped, but the candles were what gave way to the whole set up: a table for two with a pretty tablecloth and two tall candles, dahlias in the middle of the table in a pretty vase, and a chair on either side of the round table.
Y/N swallowed hard, as it seemed no one else was around, except for one man standing off the to the side in a suit, with a towel over his arm — obviously in the role of a waiter. When no one else appeared, she took a deep breath.
“Hello?”
Movement to her left caught her attention; Chris stepped out from behind a market banner. He was dressed in a button-up shirt, dark jeans, and dress shoes. Y/N couldn’t help but smile.
“You,” she grinned, shaking her head.
“Me,” Chris confirmed, approaching her. He shoved his hands into his pocket and shrugged. “You wouldn’t accept a dinner date with me, and I get your reasoning, Y/N, but I had to prove to you that I’m serious.”
Her smile fell a little as she remembered her reasoning. “Why? Why me? This is all … it’s amazing — that seems like an understatement. This is the most romantic gesture of my life, okay? But I’m … I’m no one. I moved to Seattle from Small Town, Nowhere, and I live a quiet life here. Your life is — it’s big. It’s bigger than me.”
He pulled one hand from his pocket and interlaced his fingers with hers. “I don’t care about any of that, and I hope someday you don’t, either. Right now though, I’m not asking you to figure out how your life fits with mine. I’m not asking you to marry me or to even start some long-term thing. I can’t say I haven’t thought about that — the point is, I’m just asking you to have dinner with me. One meal. Then we can take it from there. As long as that dinner’s with you … that’s all I need, it’s all I want.”
Y/N couldn’t tell if she was hyperventilating or had stopped breathing all together. Though his words were charming, there was no ulterior motive behind his speech; no intentionally greased words to convince her to have dinner with him. Only true and genuine desires.
“You really were serious before,” she said, squeezing his hand and taken by slight surprise as the lump in her throat.
“Yeah,” Chris said, his other hand coming up to caress her cheek. “I was.”
Y/N let out a deep breath, blinking back the happy, excited tears that were pooling in her eyes. “I don’t want to jump the gun or anything, but if you kissed me before dinner, I wouldn’t be upset. You know, if you’re okay with that.”
Chris smirked. “You kidding me? I’ve been waiting months to kiss you, Y/N.”
He dropped her hand and reached around her waist to pull her flush against him. He caressed her face again as he pressed his lips to her, softly at first, and then with more earnest as both arms encircled her. Y/N’s hands had started on his shoulders, but slowly moved up behind his neck as the kiss deepened.
Before the kiss could turn into a full-on make-out session, the waiter cleared his throat. “Pardon me, but your meal is getting cold, Mr. Pratt.”
Chris cleared his throat and nodded at the waiter before looking back to Y/N. “Guess we should eat, huh?”
She giggled, wiping at her smeared lip gloss. “Guess so.”
The food was delicious, and the conversation even better. By the time Chris and Y/N parted ways — phone numbers exchanged and a second date planned — hours had gone by, and all of the candles had been extinguished by light breezes as they came through the market. Y/N had called a cab to take her home, and Chris waited with her in the parking lot until the yellow car arrived.
“Sure you won’t let me take you home?”
Y/N shook her head. “Just dinner, remember?”
Chris took a deep breath and let it out. His own words were coming back to bite him in the ass. “You’re right. Just dinner. And … another kiss?”
Y/N glanced in the driver’s direction as she leaned with one hand on the open car door. “Okay, but the meter’s running.”
“I’ll give ‘em my card,” Chris whispered before touching his lips to hers once more.
