angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

Party Favour // Chris Evans

   Popular, tuneless music poured from hidden speakers and rung in your ears, accompanied by raucous shrieks and drunken laughter. The bar vibrated beneath your fingertips and you tapped them absently to a different tune than the one reverberating through your head. The entire building reeked of booze and body odour, the scent alone nauseating, never mind the amount of people evidently trying to get laid so publicly.  Lights flashing frantically only contributed to your growing migraine, and you were closer to throwing up with every passing second, not that you'd be alone if you were to hurl. Your boyfriend told you to meet him there, and he was yet to appear. Liquor sat in a low glass in front of you. You didn't touch it. 

   "Y/n!!!" The slur snapped your head upwards and you took your eyes away from the liquid in front of you to see whoever seemed to know you. Your boyfriend was grinning lopsidedly, eyes misty and stumbling as he tried to dance over, instead falling into your chest and gripping your arms. You leaned back, trying to push him up off you, the stench of sweat and whisky intoxicating the breath that rolled over your face while he messily kissed it. You found yourself flinching.

   "What took you so long?" You asked, snapping more than you intended to while he sat at the stool beside yours, taking your liquor and downing it in one thirsty gulp, like he hadn't been sipping similar substances all night.

   "I was DANCING, babygurlll..." He grinned woozily, flinging his arms out and lightly tapping a passing guy. He paused to glance at the two of you, your boyfriend completely wasted and shirt undone and you, stone-cold sober and clearly uncomfortable in the skintight dress you wore, before moving on. You kept your gaze on him, watching his muscular frame leave in a perfectly straight line, unlike your boyfriend after he murmured something indefinable, then laughed too loudly and dragged you up, staggering to the dance floor. You were plunged into a sea of sweaty bodies and your nose wrinkled, eyes clouding over. Your boyfriend continued to pull you bodily forward until you resurfaced on the other side. Where you ended wasn't much better than where you'd been before - low black leather sofas sat around tables where people drank and did drugs and made out. You tripped while you continued on, heels threatening to snap, your boyfriend finally stopping and sitting down, immediately take a joint from a shifty-looking guy's filthy hand and pulling you onto his lap. His other hand, the one that wasn't shakily holding the weed, reached up to fondle your chest. You hastily pushed it away.

   "Stop." You said through gritted teeth, turning your head a little so he'd hear. He didn't listen, just chuckling stupidly and trying clumsily again. You weren't fast enough to stop him that time and he clapped his sweaty hand over your breast. You flinched again and sat up uncomfortably straighter, clenched your fists in your lap to stop yourself screaming. He was never the greatest guy to begin with, but give him alcohol and suddenly he was a million times worse.

   "Are you going to dance for me?" He asked, leaning back on the sofa and spreading his legs without any warning. You almost fell off his lap, throwing your arms out for balance and waving them frantically while you tipped backwards, then finally toppled backwards, landing on your ass with your legs still over his, completely humiliated. Everyone around cheered eagerly and you scrambled to get up, desperately pulling your dress over your thighs and blushing. 

   "I have to go." You spat, tight lipped and turning to leave. Your boyfriend grabbed your wrist and pulled hard. You tripped and he put his head up to yours. His hot breath on your neck made your skin crawl.

  "I said dance." He hissed threateningly. You pulled away, then put your arms up like you were going to obey. He leaned back and appreciated the view, smirking proudly. You swayed your hips a little, then broke into a run and darted around the crowd, aiming for the exit so you could leave, doubting he'd make it as far in his state. You heard an angry growl and then pounding footsteps. You hissed a curse under your breath and kept going, whipping past people, your loose hair swinging behind you and heels making your ankles bend awkwardly every few steps. You saw the exit, you pushed the door open, you started to go out... and then a sharp tug on your hair sent you tumbling back, straight into your boyfriend's heaving chest and then onto the floor, concrete cool and sharp beneath your bare legs. You boyfriend yanked you upwards and into one of the walls, arm against your windpipe, blocking it. You gasped for air while he stared you coolly in the eyes. He didn't look anywhere near as drunk anymore.