5 seconds of summer Preferences

You meet during the holidays

Y/F/N = your friends name
Ashton:
You hurry though the mall, shopping bags weighing down both of your arms as you finish up your last minute Christmas shopping. You catch sight of a new and intriguing store and turn your head to catch sight of the name when it - or he - hits you. You fall to the floor, landing on your butt with shopping bags scattered around you. You look up, ready to tell the idiot that ran into you to watch where he's going, but your words get caught in your throat when your eyes meet those of the boy on the floor in front of you. "I'm so sorry!" he says, instantly hopping to his feet and reaching a hand out to help you up. "Oh, it was my fault," you mutter, blushing as the stranger helps you to your feet. "Are you hurt?" he asks, moving to collect your bags. "I'm fine," you say, brushing off your jeans and fixing your hair. "I should've watched where I was going," he sighs. He hands you back your bags with an apologetic smile. "I wasn't watching either," you explain, "It's really fine." "Well, I feel bad," he sighs. You laugh lightly at his concern and he smiles. "I'd feel a lot better if you let me take you out for coffee or something," he informs you. "Oh, really?" you laugh, cheeks reddening. He nods, biting his lip as he awaits your answer. "Well, if it would make you feel better we better do it," you sigh and he laughs. "Great," he says with a nod, "I'm Ashton, by the way."
Michael:
You and your friends walk down the streets of the neighborhood famous for its extravagant lights. You clutch your hot chocolate tightly in your hands for warmth as you laugh and talk with all of your friends. Meanwhile, a bit ahead of you a group of four guys stop, observing the lights as tourists. "It really is beautiful," a boy named Ashton observes. "Speaking of beautiful," another one, Michael, breathes out, his eyes on you instead of the house. "Do you think that's her boyfriend?" he asks, nodding at your friend. "I dunno," Ashton says with a frown, "Why don't you ask?" Michael shoots him a glare before turning his attention back to you. "Don't look now, but that guy keeps looking at you," your friend tells you quietly. "Really? Is he cute?" you ask, wishing you could look without being obvious. "I dunno," your friend replies, shrugging his shoulders. You subtly turn around, connecting eyes with the stranger before turning back. "He is cute," you confirm for yourself. "Talk to him," your friend suggests. "Ooh, who is Y/n talking to?" another one of your friends butts in. "That guy who seems into her," the first friend responds. "I'm not gonna talk to him," you say, shaking your head. "Then we all will," your friend says, shepherding your group forward to catch up with theirs. "Hi," your friend greets the four boys, "I'm Y/F/N, um these are my friends." He gestures to your confused-looking group, all unsure as to why you had stopped to talk to these guys. "Oh and this is Y/N," he says casually, pulling you forward and looking at Michael. "I'm Ashton," one of the boys tells you, "These are my friends. The extremely good looking and charming one is Michael." "Hi, Michael," you chuckle, blushing a deep red. "Hey," he laughs, smiling at you shyly.
Luke:
"You're not having fun," your friend observes with a frown. "No, I am," you lie with an unconvincing smile. "Why don't you at least try to have fun?" she sighs, sounding more like your mother than your friend. "Okay, I will," you sigh. "You're lying," your friend notices, rolling her eyes at your refusal to enjoy her Christmas party. You shrug, making her laugh a little before she says, "I have to go fix the hot chocolate maker, um, here!" She pulls a surprised looking blonde toward you and pats him on the shoulder, saying, "This is my mom's friend's kid or something, I dunno. What's your name again?" "Luke," the stranger says, his eyes meeting yours before he quickly drops them to the floor. "Great, Luke, this is Y/n. I'll see ya later." With that your friend shoves Luke toward you and bustles away. "Hi," you chuckle, blushing as Luke smiles at you. "Hi," he says with a crooked grin, "You're not one for parties?" You shrug and he laughs, nodding understandingly. "Nothing against Christmas parties, but honestly if my mom hadn't forced me to come I wouldn't be here," he informs you. "Family Christmas parties are just so weird," you sigh, looking around at the mingling strangers surrounding you. "Let me get you a drink," he offers. "There's no alcohol," you tell him. "Hot chocolate then," he offers with a laugh. "Make it a double," you call as he moves to find the drinks. He turns back, laughing at your joke as he walks. In only seconds he returns with two cups of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies. "I figured food would make this party more bearable," he explains, with a shrug and a grin down at you.
Calum:
You watch with amusement as a customer looks confusedly through the racks of women's clothing, muttering to himself about how difficult Christmas shopping is. Deciding he may be needing assistance, you approach him as he tangles himself in a few different scarves. "Need some help?" you ask, biting your lip to keep in your laughter. He jumps at the sound of your voice, turning quickly to see who is seeing him embarrass himself. "Oh, yeah. How do I get out of these scarves?" he asks with reddening cheeks. "Here," you laugh before grabbing the end of one scarf and untangling him with ease. "Thanks," he mumbles, with a shy smile. "Who are you shopping for?" you ask, secretly hoping he doesn't say his girlfriend. "My sister," he sighs, looking hopelessly toward the clothing rack in front of him. "I can help," you offer. "Oh, that's alright. You probably have other stuff to do," he says with a shrug. "Honestly, if you don't need my help I'll have to go help that lady," you whisper, gesturing toward an angry looking woman dragging around a toddler and yelling about how she can't find the right sized shoe. "In that case, yes. I'll need your help for a while," Calum says seriously, "Maybe even until your shift is over. When is that?" "Fifteen minutes," you tell him with a small grin. "And what are you doing after that?" he asks smoothly. "Dunno," you answer simply. "Could you possibly be going out with a cute customer from today?" he asks hopefully. "I think I might be," you respond with a laugh.

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A/N :
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