Commentary Crew Oneshots/imagines

James Marriott X Reader (smut)

Prompt: the boys crash your house party and your roommate assumes that you're the one who invited them

Warnings: smut, alcohol

"Listen, were only in America for a week and I want to have an authentic American experience," James said.
""How is crashing someone's party an authentic American experience?" George replied.
"Well, first of all, it'll be full of Americans-"
"As is the rest of America."
"And its the one thing you always see in American movies and television. The big house party."
"Well, I'm down for some free booze any day. Let's go," Will agrees.
"Alex?" George asks, hoping to have someone on his side.
Alex shrugs, "I don't see the harm in it, but I don't really mind either way."
"So we're going," James says. With the decision having been made, they walked towards the booming sound and flashing lights that poured out of your house like a siren to anyone looking for a good time. They knocked on the front door, though they debated trying to sneak in the back with the smokers, and a large man in his early twenties opened the door. "Hello, are you y/n's friends?" y/f/n asked. "Uh..." Alex started. "Yes. Yes, we are," Will states. "I'll go get her. Come on in," y/f/n said and then went up the stairs.

You were upstairs in your room with a few friends while the party was going on, guzzling down some wine and having conversation in the least noisy room in the house. Of course, conversation was difficult anyways as the majority of you were absolutely hammered, though this was the usual for you lot. You were filling up another solo cup with wine when one of your roommates came into your room, "Hey, y/n, some of your friends just got here. They're at the front door, and they look a bit uncomfortable."

"Thanks, dude, I'll be right down," you responded and finished pouring yourself your wine before you headed down the stairs, clutching the railing like a lifeline in case your high heels become a problem in your intoxicated state. You approached the four boys, knowing full well that you had never seen them before. You could feel them looking you up and down, taking in the short tight dress, messy hair, and dark makeup. While you enjoyed attention, the blatant staring made you feel a bit exposed and uncomfortable. "Hey. Y/f/n said that you were looking for me?"

"Are you y/n?" Will asked.
You nodded, "Welcome to my house. There's a bucket drink on the counter and Natty's in the mini fridge."
"Anything that isn't absolute shit?" George asked.
"Not for strangers."
He looked away, embarrassed. Just then, your friends came back down the stairs having been uncomfortable hanging out in your room without you there. "Y/n!" One of them shouted. "Lets dance!"

Not needing anymore convincing than that, you followed them into your LED-lit living room. The boys followed behind, less eagerly and with little intention of actually dancing. They pushed their way through the dance floor while you and your friends were dancing and made their way to the kitchen to grab some drinks. Alex opened the mini fridge and grabbed a can of Natty Lite. He opened it, took a sip, and made a face. "This is disgusting!" He put the can down on the counter with several other abandoned cups and cans.

Will poured himself a cup of yellow liquid from the bucket. "Ooooh, this is dangerous." It was a pineapple-flavored mixed drink with enough rum in it to make even the most seasoned alcoholic tipsy. The rest of the boys poured themselves bucket drinks and leaned against the counter, observing the pong tournament in the middle of the kitchen.

"See this is what I meant. An authentic American house party. Beer pong, shitty strong drinks, and loud music," James stated.

"I guess this is a decent party," George reluctantly agreed.

Will chugged the rest of his drink and poured himself another, "I'm ready to get fucked up." The rest of the boys followed suit and were about to join the pong game when they saw you and another girl get up on a coffee table that had been pushed along the wall with the rest of the living room furniture. The both of you were very into the music and a bit too drunk to worry about modesty or safety. They saw you drop it low and as you came back up, your balance faltered for just a moment before you carried on as if nothing happened.