Chris Evans Imagines and One-Shots (Smut, Fluff, Angst)

Chris Evans-Addicted

You groaned as you woke up, the pain was bearable but all you could think about was being completely numb. Two months ago you had gotten into a car accident; some asshole rear ended you, causing you to get some pretty bad whiplash and constant pain in your upper back.

Through physical therapy, you had been getting a little better, but the Percocet was what made you really feel alive; your body would become numb and you loved not feeling any kind of pain at all. Sure, you may have taken a few more pills than what your doctor prescribed, but you didn't care; it felt euphoric.

As your feet landed on the plush carpet of your shared bedroom with Chris, you dug your toes in, loving how soft the carpet was. You twisted your lower back, causing it to pop in a few places before ambling into the bathroom where you stored your pills.

Opening the medicine cabinet, your breath caught in your throat as your pill bottles were missing. Your eyes widened as you struggled to breathe. "Where the fuck are they?" you cussed to yourself as you started to move things around; maybe you had misplaced them.

You started opening all the drawers in the bathroom, your hands throwing items around as you desperately searched for what you craved. Letting out a quiet grunt, you slammed your foot on the floor before marching out of the bathroom and down the stairs. You had a slight feeling Chris hid them from you. He told you earlier that day that he thought you were getting addicted to them as you scoffed at his words.

"What have you done with my pills? I need them!" you demanded as you saw Chris sitting on the barstool at the kitchen island; phone in his hand. At this point, you were beyond annoyed; your lips pursed into a thin line as your hands were balled into fists at your side.

Chris' frustration radiated off of him as he ran a hand through his hair; shaking his head simultaneously. "I'm worried about you baby" he said with a soft sigh.

You rolled your eyes at his words before replying, "Chris I'm fine. It's fine. Just....tell me where they are. Please. I really need them." You tried to stay as calm as you could, just so you could get them back, but your anger was starting to boil.

"Y/N, we need to talk about this. How many have you already taken today?" Chris demanded, his voice starting to raise at you.

You damn well knew you already took more than the recommended dosing, plus some already today, but you didn't want to tell him that. You dropped your gaze to the ground as your body broke out into a cold sweat, your muscles starting to tense. This was your biggest fear; Chris finding out that you were taking more medication that required and that he would leave you, but you just wanted your damn pills.

"Y/N" he spoke your name harshly, wanting you to answer to him but you couldn't. It felt like something was sitting on your chest and you were being denied oxygen. "I want an answer goddamnit!"

You jumped at the harsh demand of his words, never hearing him talk this way to you before. Tears starting to spill over your eyes as you realized that you just might have a problem with addiction. "Seven" you whispered out as your voice quivered. You knew he would be mad, hell, you were even mad at yourself. The bottle clearly says, "no more than 4 tablets daily."

Chris got off his stool, making his way towards you as he wrapped you into his arms. You couldn't held it, the dam broke and as you sobbed uncontrollably into his chest.

"We're going to get you help baby. We'll get you better" he spoke into your ear asyou tears flowed freely. You couldn'tspeak, no words would come out and all you could do was nod your head; hopingthat he was right; hoping that you could get better.nd, he held�@>��b%