Summer Stars (And Other Imagines)

Late night FIFA PT 1 (Luke Hemmings Imagine)

Y/N was so pissed. Michael, the green haired prick, had beaten her again at Fifa and was currently doing an odd little dance around his man cave, a dance that consisted of lots of whoops and "I am the KING!" Y/N found the whole thing a little unfair because honestly she didn't even know what Fifa was until a few months ago when she was invited to a sleepover with Ashton, Michael, Luke, and Calum. She walked in and saw Michael doing a very similar dance to the one he was doing now while Luke held his blonde head in his hands, shaking his head. Not from the shame of losing the game, Y/N assumed, but probably because Michael was just so effing embarassing.

"Michael! Could you quit, you're going to break something!" Y/N shook her head. The gesture wasn't too serious, though, because she was laughing.

He stopped jumping around and stuck his tongue out at her, receiving a pillow to the face for his actions. "Your aim is horrible, even in real life! No wonder I'm always beating you." Michael snickered and sat down again beside her, his head resting on her shoulder. The two sat a moment in silence, giving Y/N the chance to appreciate her having a friend like Michael. "Are you okay? You know, from before?" Michael asked softly, the laughter gone from his voice.

The "before" he was talking about was when he entered her room to find Y/N sobbing into her pillow softly, refusing to look at her arms. No matter how many times he tried, Michael couldn't get the pillow from her face without the promise of some sort of sleeves. So he took her to his mancave, her hugging the pillow the whole way there, and gave her one of his flannel shirts in exchange for the now tear soaked pillow. Then they sat down and played Fifa until Michael had Y/N laughing until she damn near peed, calmed her down enough to explain.

"Yeah, I think....I think I'm okay now." She nodded, looking over at him and smiling, hoping it would convey how grateful she was. "Do you want to tell me what was up? Maybe we could, I dunno, avoid whatever made you panic?" Y/N bit her lip, chewing on it nervously, as was her habit. This was the part she was dreading, the talking to people about what made her panic part. She hated  talking to people about her problems, mainly because they seemed to make other people sad.

"You can't avoid your own arms, Mikey." Y/N joked, yet when he looked confused, her fake smile faded. "My arms are the problem. You know, my scars. They just bother me sometimes is all."Y/N clarified, and Michael nodded his understanding, his green eyes glancing at her fabric covered forearms. "Have you ever told Luke about it?" Michael questioned, shifting his body better to face her. "Told me what?" A deep voice sounded from behind Y/N, and she felt her heart freeze behind her sternum. She didn't need to turn around to know who's voice that was. Looking down at her arms, she muttered, "Shit."