5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


45. Target

All she wanted to do was go to Target, get the laundry detergent that her parents had basically banished her out of the house for, and go back home to hibernate, probably. But, like – things don’t always go to plan, you know? Which was why, as she was walking towards the section she needed to be at, four incredibly tall figures were trudging past her, clinging onto each other and giggling maniacally.    


And, like. They’re standing by the rack with CDs stacked – their attention mostly being captured by the CDs that are 5 Seconds of Summer’s new LiveSOS CD – and then the other woman (she thinks) is suddenly attacking the other woman whilst the one in glasses starts shouting “hey, that’s my wife!” in a voice that sounds way too gravelly and forced to belong to that of an old man.    


But she smiles anyway, shaking her head slightly, mostly in disbelief because honestly, she’d never have the guts to do something like that, no matter how fun it may seem to be.    


And then one of them falls. And Y/N would have to be a terribly horrible person to walk by an old woman who’s just fell, yeah?   


- - -   


“You alright?” A voice asks, and Luke snaps his head up (probably way too fast for someone who’s supposed to be dependant on a walking stick and her husband to lead her places), eyes growing wide behind the sunnies that he’s got on despite it being night time and him being indoors.    


“Mate?” The girl asks again and, fuck.


Now that Luke’s properly looking at her and not being paranoid about blowing his cover – even though he and the boys have already blown their cover, like, twenty times in the past five minutes – he realises that she’s so fucking pretty. She’s blinking at him, body crouched and he’s just realised that she’s got a hand on his shoulder and another around his elbow – probably to help pull him up or summat – and she’s so gentle with him, what the fuck. Like. Of course he’s going to meet the prettiest fucking girl whilst he’s in a goddamn skirt and is looking like a cross between an old man and woman and of course she’s going to have to be one of the nicest persons ever – helping him even though it’s clear as day to anyone with eyes that he’s clearly not an old woman.   


“Oh,” he says, then he’s clearing his throat, “Yes, yes, I’m okay, thank you, dearie,” Luke says and then he’s wincing internally because dearie. Like. Wow. Really, Luke?

“‘s good,” she nods, then she’s moving to help him get to his feet, making sure he’s standing alright because Luke is not making himself unstable on purpose, absolutely not. “Well, uh. Have a nice… night,” she smiles, nodding at him, then she’s turning away to go get whatever she came into Target for but then Luke doesn’t exactly want her to go just yet, so.   


“Wait, sweetie,” he calls out, smiling a little too widely and probably a little too creepily when she turns around to look at him. “What’s your name?”   


She blinks, “Y/N. And yours, ma’am?” She emphasises on the ma’am and every logical part of him is telling him to just run right now, save him the embarrassment but she’s a pretty girl and she seems really nice, so he’s going to go against every logical part of him.   

Now. What the fuck did Ashton call him earlier on? Was it Moira? Or was that Michael’s name? Oh wait it’s – "Melissa,“ he answers.   


"Nice to meet you,” Y/N smiles – and god dammit, that’s a pretty smile on a pretty face.   


“Do you know where the CDs are?” He blurts out next because how the hell is he going to be able to keep talking to her whilst still pretending to be an old woman?   


She nods slowly, “Yeah, ‘s right there – " she points to the area with the CDs that isn’t all that far away and he can clearly see, but she’s not ever going to know that.  

“Oh, would you look at that? They are there. Silly me!” Luke chuckles and he sounds so dumb but these are the sacrifices he’ll make because he wants to keep talking to this girl. “I think –” he trails off, taking on a thoughtful tone. “I think I might need you to lead me there. You should hold my hand, yeah? So I don’t fall,” Luke clarifies.   


To her credit, Y/N smiles again. She seems to be biting back a laugh, but she just smiles a little wider, slipping her hand into his larger one and – fucking hell, she’s got soft hands. He doesn’t want to ever let go. “You know…” Y/N starts, tone casual. Luke startles slightly, eyes going back up to her face from where he was staring at their joined hands. “You’ve got pretty, uh, youthful looking and feeling hands, for someone of your age, ma’am.”   


“Of course,” Luke chimes in agreement before he can stop himself. Because well, fuck. What’s he supposed to say to that? He could just stop the whole old woman thing he’s got going on, but then that would probably mean Y/N would stop holding his hand, possibly also just ditch him to leave or do something else, so. ”I moisturise!” He blurts out, and. Genius. Bloody genius.   


- -   


“Cheers for playing along, just now,” he says, no longer bothering with the shit excuse of a falsetto. “‘s fun – putting on shite disguises and doing stupid shite like that. ‘specially with, like, – yeah.”   


“With the band getting so easily recognised now?” Y/N supplies, raising both eyebrows. Luke hums in agreement, a shy and almost sheepish smile on his face. She shrugs, “Was fun. Besides. Couldn’t let an old lady wander around after her husband’s ditched her when she fell, could I?” She teases, and Luke breathes a laugh, before he’s clearing his throat.   


“Do you, uh. D’you reckon I could, um. You know,” Luke trails off, mumbling for the most part, shrugging his shoulders. Y/N doesn’t say anything, just smiles, raising a brow because no, she doesn’t know, so. He clears his throat, looking at her, “Right, um. Do you reckon I could get your number or summat?” He asks, tone confident now and a smirk forming on his lips.   


“I mean,” she starts, tone unsure, and the confidence that he’d had is visibly decreasing. “Like. You’re not really my, uh. My type?” She purses her lips, brows furrowing, gesturing to him. “Also, you’re, like. Way too old for me? And I’d rather date someone within my age range and also, uh, having a dick?"    


Luke glances at her, then he’s a giggling mess, bringing a hand to his chest, “Fuck, I thought you were gonna say you were a lesbian. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He says quickly when he sees her raised eyebrow and quirked lips slowly lowering. “Just, I mean. Like. You’re really pretty, and. Y’know. I reckon we’d get along well and, like, I don’t know much about you but I would like to get to know you – as dumb as that might sound – and, uh –” Y/N leans in as he’s scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly, gently and slowly kissing him on the cheek and then pulling back with a light blush on her cheeks. “Oh. Um. Is that a, uh. A yes?”   


“A yes to what, exactly?” Y/N asks, tone slightly teasing as she smiles at him.    


“To everything,” he blurts out, then he’s frowning. “I mean. To giving me your number? And, like. Going on a date with me? Or not. I mean – we don’t have to if you don’t want to so, like, uh –”   


Luke’s cut off by Y/N giggling lightly this time. She reaches out to take the Sharpie from her back pocket – the one that Luke’s pretty sure he had dropped earlier – and grabs his forearm, penning down her number in the most cliché way possible.    


"Text me, yeah?” She says, then she’s handing him the capped Sharpie, “And I believe this belongs to you.”   


“Thanks,” he laughs lightly. “And, uh, yeah, I’ll text you. Definitely.” He nods, beaming at her.   


Y/N smiles at him again, pecking him on the cheek once more before she’s turning on her heel and walking away. She barely manages to get five metres away when her phone beeps with a text and she’s already grinning to herself, shaking her head slightly – more to herself than anything.   


How’s dinner and a movie sound? :-)


(And if Luke’s smiling so hard at the reply that lights up his phone – as long as you’re there, I’m in :) – that people start to actually proper stare at him because he looks absolutely mental, then, well. No one apart from him and the people wondering if he’s escaped from a mental asylum have to know.)  

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