Imagines

Complete Stranger (Ash AU)

Too many people in the house. Too many people for comfort. You excuse your self as you walk sideways through groups of people smudging together and trying to listen to someone talk over the loud music blaring through speakers in the living room. It wasn't your decision to throw this party, your roommate wanted to have a house warming party for the apartment the two of you had just moved into. What was supposed to be an intimate gathering turned into this.

"EXCUSE ME," you yell at someone, probably with too much of an attitude. The guy you were trying to get around turns around and when he sees you his annoyed expression turns into one of pure amusement.

"Sorry babe," he turns around so that he is facing you, your chest pressing against his periodically as the people on either side of the two of you push you into each other. There is a bandana holding his hair off of his forehead and it doesn't match the sweater he is wearing at all. "Not much room in this apartment."

"Can I just squeeze through?" You ask, stomping your foot like a child but you could care less. You just want to get to the kitchen, grab another drink, and hopefully make it through this night.

"What's your name?"

"Seriously?" You roll your eyes and push past him and through the rest of the party.

When you finally reach the kitchen there is no liquor left, only the cheap beer a bunch of (Your bffs name)'s guy friends brought along. At least they thought to bring something.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You groan to yourself. You aren't a beer drinker, you never were, and the beer in your hand is warm too boot. You pop the top and chug the contents, holding back the gagging sensation that over takes you as you finish the disgusting liquid blanket. You grab another one and are ready to chug that as well, hoping for that tingling sensation that would make you forget about your annoyance at the size of this get together, when someone grabs the beer right from your hands.

You look up and see the damn bandana.

"What are you trying to get plastered?" He asks, holding the beer just out of your reach. You should have listened to (your bffs name) when she told you to suck it up an wear the wedges you bought the other day.

"Yes as a matter of fact," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. "Can I please have that back...?"

"Ashton," he laughs, placing the beer on the counter behind him. "I thought you'd never ask. It's rude, actually, to not know that names of your guests, y/n."

"How do you know my name?"

"Your friend told me," he says, brushing it off as no big deal. "Now, I figure you aren't a beer drinker? Do you like tequila?"

"There is none left."

"Ah that's what we want you to think," he grabs your hand and starts pulling you back into the heat of the party. He brings you through the living room and off to the corner him and his friends have migrated too since you first passed them in the hallway.

"Calum do you have the bottle?" Ashton's friend, Calum, nods and hands him a white bottle in the shape of a skull.

Ashton pulls you again down the hall and opens your bedroom door, pulling the door closed after pulling you into the room.

You grab the bottle from him and go for the door. He steps in front of you and smiles.

"I'm not doing anything as payment for the liquor I bought."

"I didn't say you needed to do anything, can you at least share? I feel that it would be highly irresponsible of me to leave a tiny girl such as yourself with so much of such a deadly drink," he smiles, grabbing the bottle out of your hand. He unscrews the top and takes a long chug, his face scrunching up as he passes the bottle back to you.

You look him up and down, trying to decide what his game is. Finding no hint at where he is going, you grab the bottle and take a long chug. If you're going to be stuck here you might as well have a good time.

You take another long drink and look over the man in front of you. His light brown hair is a wavy mess behind the bandana that makes no sense, but his eyes look so kind and you have a feeling he is the kind if guy that could keep you laughing.

You laugh at yourself as you feel the familiar warmth spreading through you that reminds you of the bottle of tequila that you continue sipping while he watches you with a smirk.

"Take off your shirt," you tell him. Pointing with one finger as the other fingers hold onto the neck if the bottle.

"Excuse me?" He laughs.

"You heard me," you say, feeling more confident than you ever have. "Take off your shirt."

"Are you drunk?"

"No."

"I think your drunk."

You take another long chug to prove that you are fine and could keep drinking. It's just a little tequila. The bottle is much, much lighter in your hand but you couldn't have drank that much.

"Take off your shirt," you say again, the inappropriate and slutty urges that always come with a few shots of tequila are taking over slowly and surely.

"I'm not going to take off my shirt!" He argues, laughing.

"Just take it off!"

"You're drunk,"

"I am not! Take off your fucking shirt!"

"Fine!" He grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, exposing a mouth watering body. The v that leads to the most important part of a male's body is there but not too prominent that it is threatening. His chest is chiseled slightly, his abs visible when he exhales.

He takes a seat on your bed, laughing, and then looks up at you.

"Happy?" He asks.

"Yes," you smile, placing the nearly empty bottle of tequila on the desk next to your door. You take a step towards him and reach for the hem if your own shirt. He lays his hands over yours and looks up at you. You are standing right in front of him, between his legs, and you don't even remember how you got this close.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you," he tells you.

"It's not taking advantage," you promise him, trying to lift your shirt over your head. He stops you and wraps his arm around your waist at the same time. He pulls you towards him and lays you down on the bed next to him.

He pushes your hair away from your face and then his fingers trail down your jaw, down your neck, and across the neckline of your low cut T-shirt.

Your hands go to his bare chest and you can feel the sleep coming to you like a storm cloud on it's way to ruin blue skies. Your eyes begin to close and your leg goes over his and you wrap your body around his. Even in your now very tipsy state you can appreciate how well your bodies form together as he runs his hands up and down your arm. You start to drift off, wondering if it's a good idea to fall asleep with a complete stranger. But as his breathing slows and you look up at him, you wonder if he isn't a complete stranger after all.