#chris eveans reader insert

[hertzwritings]

Pawprints

A/N: My brain is used and rotten by all my professional knowledge at this point in time, so I’m resetting with some good, old fanfiction. It’s the cure all, and I will die on this hill. Prompt: “There’s blood everywhere.”

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you something personalized – the sky is the limit, my loves!

I love y’all so much and I’ve honestly been blown away over the response to some of my stuff lately, so thank you! Remember, feedback feeds the soul (min, in particular) and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits to what you can ask for, because I am me and I have none.

 MASTERLIST

CHRIS EVANS MASTERLIST

PROMPTLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Chris Evans x plus sized!Reader

Contains: language, mentions of SMALL injury to Dodger (PROMISE IT’S BARELY A THING), Vetenarian!Reader, flirty Chris, smidge of angst, a lot of fluff

W.C.: 3.000

 Pawprints

  You weren’t sure what you were expecting, when you moved to a small town just outside of Boston to take over the veterinarian position; at any rate, you were here and it was the quietest job, you’d ever had in your entire life. Mrs. Robinson came in once a week with her poodle, because she convinced herself it was limping (it was not, nor was it the time before that), Mr. Ericsson came in with his parrot, because he needed you to make it stop swearing (it did not, but the parrot did get worse at it) and all in all, you didn’t do much. It was still only a month since you moved to Boxford, and you had wanted the quiet of the small town. It fit you perfectly after a shitty breakup and a shittier job. The quiet of your small home on the outskirts of the town, the living room facing the lake and the forest around it – you might have a shit-ton of handiwork on front of you, because the cabin was overgrown, falling apart at the seams and your foot had gone through a hole in the kitchen floor more times than you could count, but it felt like home.

You sighed and placed the last of your cups in the cupboard, finally emptying the last box – it was a relief to finally be done, especially in the sweltering heat. You felt like you could swim in the amount of sweat, your body had produced; another wonderful aspect of being a bigger girl. You glanced at the clock and decided that it wasn’t late enough to call it a night, and the fact that you hadn’t actually seen more of the town other that the supermarket, your practice and your home, made up your mind to at least see something from the town.

The walk to town wasn’t too long, and the warm evening air felt comfortable on your skin as you trekked through small and narrow streets, the soft noises of the day winding down and the evening kicking in, surrounding you. The town was small and quaint – it was pretty, with soft lights from the streetlights flooding the sidewalk leading to the post-office, while people walked to and from the grocery store, the small restaurant and the park, families hauling blankets and children in their hands. You smiled at them and waved politely at them – your eyes scanned the town square and they landed on a sign to the only bar in town. Perfect.

You stepped inside, the smell of beer and peanuts flooding your senses, and you walked straight to the bar, ignoring the stares that followed you. New people in a small town were bound to draw a few eyes. The bartender smiled politely at you. “What can I get you, doc?” you laughed a little under your breath. “I’m not a doctor, I’m a vet.” “Same difference here.” He winked at you. “What will it be?” “Double whiskey, please.” He nodded and pulled down a bottle from the top shelf, before he winked at you. “You deserve the top shelf-stuff. Don’t worry, no extra charge.” You chuckled and gratefully took the glass from him. Another voice sounded from your left. “Hey, Henry, can I have whatever beer is the coldest?” It sounded familiar. You turned your head a little and almost threw up. Holy shit. Blue eyes locked in with yours, and a soft smile played on his lips. “Hi.” You gulped and tried to fix the sudden dry spot in your throat. “H-hi.” You stuttered. The bartender placed a cold beer in front of him, and turned to you. “Don’t worry too much about it, that’s the general reaction he gets from anyone under the age of 60.” You both laughed at that, and he turned to you fully, extending his hand to you. “Chris.” You nodded. “Kind of knew that.” You grabbed his hand and shook it. It was warm and slightly rough. “I’m Y/N.” “Oh, shit, you’re the new veterinarian, right?” He asked, letting your hand go and grabbed his beer. “Yup.” “Can I ask why on earth you moved here? It’s… Uhm…” he trailed off and you didn’t miss the way his eyes zeroed in on your lips as you licked them. “Uneventful?” He nodded. “Uh, well… I guess I needed it. Besides, it was my old teacher who ran the practice here, and I was pretty close with him, so it seemed perfect for me to take over.” You shrugged. “I have to know though, what you’re doing here? I thought you were a big-city-boy?” He chuckled. “I used to be. I needed the freedom a little, after both L.A. and Boston, I guess. I like to be able to walk Dodger around without having a camera or five in my face.” “That makes sense.” He smiled at you. “Where did you move in? I didn’t think there was any listings in town?” He took a sip, leaning against the bar. His bicep was bulging out of his tight t-shirt and it took you a moment to focus on talking. “Oh, there wasn’t. I actually moved into the lake cabin.” You said and grinned at his expression. “I know, yeah, it has… A few issues.” “Y/N, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is literally a gust of wind away from collapsing.” You laughed along with him – you felt warm and slightly giddy, while also in awe that this man, this absolute God was talking to you willingly. “Maybe so. But I’m working hard to make it a little sturdier.” You said with a shrug. “It’s a little difficult with a small toolbox from IKEA, but I make do.” “Oh no, that won’t do. You at least need a powerdrill that can do something.” He said with a grin. “My powerdrill is perfect, thank you very much.” You finished your drink and stood. “I should get back, or Mrs. Robinson will be very upset with me tomorrow.” “Of course.” He grinned. “Uh… Can I, maybe walk you home?” he asked, and you were surprised by a soft blush on his cheeks. Without thinking about it, you answered. “Sure. I’m still a little lost on the trails, so…” “Cool. I’ll pay, hang on.” And with that, he paid for both of your drinks and left the bar together.

As soon as you were out of the town center, and the sidewalk turned to gravel under your shoes, you opened your mouth. “So you’re not… Like a serial killer or something, right? Who just uses fame as the best cover ever?” You asked, only halfway joking. He laughed hard, his hand flying to his chest. “No, I’m not, but I commend you for asking the question after we are out of eye and earshot, in the darkness and in the woods. Very good on survival-skills, Y/N.” “Damn, I didn’t even think about that.” You mused. “Well, can we just make a deal that you don’t kill me, then?” “Sure thing.” You walked a little while without talking, until he cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m sorry if I seemed forward. It’s just a little rare that people my age shows up around here.” “You don’t even know how old I am. Or if I’m single.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “For all you know, I might be 45 and married with seven kids.” He chuckled. “That’s true. So… How old are you, and do you by chance have a husband and seven kids, I need to know about?” You shook your head. “No husband or kids. Thankfully dodged that bullet. And I’m 27.” “Oh wow, you’re younger than I thought you were.” He said quietly. “And what do you mean dodged that bullet? Kids or the husband?” “The husband. I’m not that young, Chris. Full adult here.” “Want to talk about it?” “My age? Pretty self-explanatory. See, I was born…” He laughed and you nudged his shoulder – well, more like his elbow, because he towered well above you. “Ha, ha, funny girl. No, the husband. Or lack of him.” You sighed. “I, uh…” Somehow, you found yourself pretty comfortable with him around, and it seemed as easy as it was talking to your friends back in the city. “Well, we were together for a long time. Almost five years. He proposed and took it back three months later, because he found someone else.” “Ouch.” “Not the worst part, if you can believe it.” You said bitterly. Your house was appearing out of the darkness. “He told me it was because I gained weight. I wasn’t… I don’t know, sexy, I guess, anymore. So, he found a blonde, tall and skinny model-type, who doted on him. More than I did, anyway.” “Holy shit, he’s a douche.” Chris said, stopping dead in his tracks. “I mean, I barely know you and I think you’re a catch.” You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that. I’m pretty used to…” “I’m not saying it out of pity. Seriously, I… Okay, so… You can ask Henry and he’ll tell you I never willingly talk to anyone. You kind of drew me in. He’s a douche, your ex, Y/N.” You scoffed. “I wish I knew that five years ago.” You looked to your house. “Uhm, this is me. I guess I’ll see you around?” He nodded and sent you a boyish smile. “I guess you will. Goodnight, Y/N.” “Goodnight, Chris.” He turned to leave, gravel crunching under his feet, and something clicked inside of you. “Chris, wait!” You yelled after him and jogged to his side. He turned quickly to face you. “Give me your phone.” You asked, and he handed you it willingly. “Why?” He asked, while you punched your number in and gave it back to him. “Uhm… Well, now you have my number. In case, I don’t know, you need some vet-assistance. You can call or text if there’s anything you need.” It was half true – you also just kind of wanted him to have your number. You grinned and he echoed your grin – his eyes lit up even under the cover of darkness. “Well.. Thank you, Y/N. Sleep tight, honey.”

 When you laid down in bed, you saw your phone light up with a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Just in case you need the powerdrill. 😉

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  It was only two days later, after you had already dozed off, when your phone rang, and Chris’ name lit up your screen. You answered groggily. “I know I said anything you need, but it’s a little late…” you mumbled, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “It’s Dodge.” His voice was panicked. “I don’t know what happened, I don’t… He’s, God, I let him out, and there’s…” He was panicked, that’s for sure. You could hear how shallow his breaths were, and all traces of sleepiness disappeared from your body. You sat straight up and fumbled for your lights, turning them on and quickly throwing your sweatpants and a hoodie on. “Y/N, please, there’s blood everywhere.” “Okay, hay, it’s alright. I’m on my way, okay? Is his breathing normal?” You asked, putting him on speaker to throw your hoodie on. “Yeah, I… yeah, I think so. He’s limping.” You nodded. “Okay, Chris, I need you to text me your address. I’ll drive to you as fast as I can, okay? Make sure he tries to drink some water, and keep an eye on him to see if he gets sleepy.” “Ye-yes, yeah, okay.” He hung up and you practically jumped into your sneakers and out into your car, praying that the piece of shit would start. It did, and you put your phone in the cupholder, GPS on and found the address he had texted you.

 You knocked on his door – the big door that belonged to the big house with the other side of the forest behind it – with your go-bag over your shoulder. He opened quickly. “Thank you so much!” His eyes were wide, and he looked just about ready to cry. “Yeah, no problem. Where’s the best boy?” You asked, toeing your shoes off. “In here.” He led you through his hallway to the living room (which was beautiful and kept in neutral colors, with dashes of forest-green added here and there) and your eyes found Dodger immediately. He was laying on the floor next to the fireplace, pawprints of dried blood around him. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you, yeah?” You slowly extended your hand and he leaned against it, allowing you to scratch him behind the ear. “I had hoped it would be in a different way, but nonetheless…” You let your bag fall to the ground gently, and turned your head to Chris, who was biting his nails. “Chris, can you go and get two clean towels and wet them both?” He nodded and rushed to what you presumed was the kitchen. “Alright, Dodge, what’s up with you, huh? Scaring your dad like that…” You chuckled when his tail wagged. “At least your mood is good.” You looked at his eyes and felt his nose. “Buddy, I’m going to check you, okay? I promise I’ll be good if you don’t bite.” He woofed gently and you took it as a sign of goodwill, and began slowly inching your fingers through his fur, around his neck, down his tail and finally, his paws. “Ah, there’s the culprit.” You mumbled to yourself, and Chris knelt next to you with the towels. “Can you give him one of them to just suck on? Sometimes it’s calming to them, and we’re making sure he’s getting fluids.” He nodded and followed your instructions. “He was outside?” You asked, feeling Dodger’s hindleg. “Yeah, I… I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t more than a minute, and I just looked down and there was blood…” he drew a deep breath and you smiled reassuringly at him. “Dodger is going to be just fine. He got cut by something, see?” You held the paw up, and sure enough, a gash was at the bottom – it wasn’t too deep, and wouldn’t require stiches, because it had already stopped bleeding. “Oh, thank God.” Chris closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you. I always panic when something happens to him, and I just…”  You shook your head. “it’s fine. It’s what I’m here for, remember?” You smiled softly at him. “But we’re not totally in the clear yet. I need to clean the surface of it, and I need to give him a shot, just in case.” Chris paled. “I promise, it’s fine and he won’t even notice me giving him the shot.” “Honestly, it’s not him I’m worried about. It’s me. I hate needles.” He confessed and you laughed a little, nuzzling Dodger’s fur. “Aren’t you covered in tattoos?” You asked, while searching your bag for the necessary things. “Yes, but I don’t see the needle there.” “Ah.” You worked fast and fixed the shot quickly. “Okay, then do me a favor, okay?” He nodded. “I need you to just hold and cuddle Dodge while I give the shot. Don’t look at it, okay, just keep your eyes on me.” “That won’t be a problem.” He said quickly and blushed. “Wow, flirting, are we?” You joked. “Not that I mind.” You added quickly. “I would hope not. I mean… It’s kind of hard not to look at you, have you seen yourself lately? Gorgeous.” He chuckled and held Dodger’s head in his lap. “Okay, just… keep your eyes on me, okay?” You blushed and began stroking a spot on Dodger near his stomach, that made him visibly relax and quickly gave him the shot. He didn’t react at all, and was being a very good boy, even when you cleaned the gash with antibacterial wipes. “Good boy, Dodger!” You praised and both he and his owner seemed happy to receive the praise. “I got you something, boy…” You fumbled for a moment and pulled out one of the surefire winners in the treat-book and gave it to him after Chris nodded to you, agreeing. Dodger took it happily and trotted off in no time, barely limping. Chris fell back against the backside of the couch, closing his eyes.

“Seriously, thank you. I don’t even know what to say other than that.” “No worries, I am here to help.” “I wonder what he stepped on.” “I can help figure it out with you tomorrow?” You suggested with a nervous smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiled, and you moved to sit next to him, shaking slightly. “I hope it’s not too much, but, uh… Do you think you can stay for a little while? Just to make sure he’s good?” You nodded. “Of course. Anything.”

And that’s how you spent the night. You moved from the floor and the backside of the couch to actually sitting in the couch after a while, talking easily with him, and flirting even easier – he made you feel safe and comfortable, as you talked and laughed until the sun came up. You talked about everything and nothing, and he was not shy from flirting with you, which you weren’t one to not return tenfold to him.  

“You know, we should go find whatever he cut himself on.” Chris said with a slightly hoarse voice. You had talked through the night. “Yeah, and I should get home after. I have a giant hole in my kitchen, I need to fix.” You said, standing up. “I mean… We could come with you? I’m real’ handy, miss.” You laughed. “And Dodger is a pro at finding spiders, so you’ll be spider-free and hopefully hole-free.” Dodger wagged his tail and woofed gently. 

How could you say no to that?

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