a bunch of pll imagines and preferences...

65- Long days and lonely nights- Mike imagine

Anonymous said:

Can you do a mike Montgomery imagine for how is coping with his girlfriend (y/n) in the dollhouse? By the way I love your imagines xx

Anonymous said:

Can you do one where the reader is Spencer's little sister in the dollhouse and the reader and mike are best friends but they are secretly in love?

A/N: these are really old requests and I finally wrote them! They were so similar I decided to put them together x I hope that's ok  warning- it's a bit of a mish-mash of things but I had no clue what I could solidly base the story on xxx

words: 827

"Mike, what are you doing here?" you asked, clueless, the puzzled look on your face making his heart palpitate. He didn't reply, instead he walked straight into you, enveloping you in a hug. You hugged him back, giggling at his outburst of affection.

"I miss you." He mumbled into your hair, just behind you ear. His hands gripped you tightly, as if you were about to disappear, scrunching up the fabric of your clothes.

"But I'm right here." you confirmed, pulling back to look him in the eyes as you cupped his face. Your skin felt warm, his cold. He hadn't shaved much, the stubble poking the palms of your hands.

"Y/n. come on, we're going to be late." Spencer, your sister called from upstairs. Mike hadn't even noticed she was around. You gave him an apologetic glance before attempting to run upstairs to her. Mike clamped down on your wrist out of instinct, stopping you from getting more than a few feet away from him.

"Mike, I'll be back in a second." You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he released your wrist, letting you jog upstairs to your sister. Mike stood in the quiet house, just listening out. Listening to the sound of your laugh as you chatted to spencer. He always loved that laugh.

"MIKE!" you cried, accompanied by a loud smashing. Mike ran up after you, throwing your empty bedroom door open. There was nothing inside. The room was undecorated, unfurnished. Nobody lived there. He gripped the short hair on the top of his head as tears fell down his face. He ran to every room in the house, frantically looking for any sign of you, yet he didn't find anything.

Mike woke up, startled. Fresh tears were running down his cheeks just like in the dream. It had been exactly three weeks since you had gone. He'd been counting every hour, every minute since his parents told him what happened. You'd only been dating a short time before you were kidnapped, it must've been only a few months. But you had been friends longer than that. A lot longer.

You'd met through spencer, through her friendship with aria and since then you'd been best friends. It was obvious to any outsider that you two liked each other more than friends usually like each other, however neither you came clean for years.

One day he had admitted it, tired of hiding his feelings. You happily told him you felt the same and the rest was history.

Every day in the last three weeks mike carried out the same ritual. He'd spend an hour or so trying to figure out where you were, with no luck. He'd spend another hour tormenting himself about how he should've been there. He'd go around town and pester the police to see if they had any new information. Mike had to spend the rest of each day pretending everything was normal, that you weren't gone. He had to eat so nobody worried about him, even if he wasn't all that hungry. He had to go to school and attend his after school clubs and laugh at his friends jokes, when all he wanted was for you to run up and jump on his back to surprise him, like you usually did.

The worst part wasn't the long days, it was the lonely nights. He missed how you'd spend the night together. How it felt to have you wrapped in his arms, his lips on the skin on your collarbone. He missed the words you'd whisper to him as he drifted off. The dreams he had of you now only brought back the painful realisation that you were gone when he finally woke.

The longer you were missing, the worse it got. He started to worry that he'd forget what you smelt like, what it felt to have you breathe next to him. Small things he never wanted to forget because it made him feel comfortable and at peace. He didn't want the memories of the two of you to become so distant that they too felt like the dreams.

You could be anywhere, locked in a basement. Tied up. His imagination was destroying him. A small voice in his head asked him what would happen if you never came back. He would shake his head to try and get rid of the thought but it filled him with the deepest sense of regret. He should've told you how much he cared for you. Granted he told you he liked you and he tried to show you that all the time. What bothered him was he'd been keeping a secret from you, that he loved you. He was waiting for the right time to admit it, but then you were taken. If he had one wish, he wished he could have you back that he could tell you everything, but all he could do was sit and wait.