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paxamillius · 10 months

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-Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or What?

🎧 synopsis: Mikes normal, utterly boring day is pleasantly interrupted by a diabetic whirlwind.

🎧 warnings: finger pricking, foul language

🎧 authors note: big thanks to @zvdvdlvr for helping me, it wouldn't exist without you.🤍

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

mike shook his head, re-reading the sequence of numbers written in small, practised handwriting. a small smile pulled at his lips. despite having already memorized the number and how to spell your name, he kept glancing down at the slip of paper and running his thumb over the now-smudging pen ink.

with abby already asleep, mike debates if he should call or not. he doesn’t want to wake abby, but he really wants nothing more than to keep talking with the woman that (quite literally) fell into his arms.

mike exhaled. as long as he was quiet he supposed he could stay up and talk to her- y/n. y/n l/n.

slowly mike dialed her phone number; already imagining her voice from the other line.

the line didn’t ring twice before she picked up. “hello?” she answered, her voice having that smile that mike swears made the sun shine a little brighter.

“uh, hi. this- this is y/n, right? it’s-“ mike started, tripping over his words.

“mike! mike schmidt from the mall, yeah?”

another smile: wider this time though. mike beamed. “yeah, that’s me. mike from the mall.”

——👾; 6 hours earlier

the world was spinning, blurring. y/n cursed herself once again for her forgetfulness- she had a tendency to completely ignore her health until something like this happens.

y/n’s blood sugar was extremely low. she knew she needed something fast acting: juice, fruit snacks, soda… a slushie even. but with the way y/n could function, ordering something for herself would be out of the question.

maybe walking blindly into someone will help, was y/n’s rationale. so she carefully walked the best she could to someone, occasionally slamming into a bench or counter.

y/n’s head was spinning. she cursed her pancreas for failing to do it’s one and only job.

"oh dear lord," y/n mumbled. her legs struggled to keep her upright, let alone get her anywhere. her vision was fuzzy and the edges faded in and out, black dots swimming in her line of sight. y/n cursed herself- yet again- for being as careless as she was.

getting a few weird stares and several people backing away from y/n, someone finally approached her.

"are you drunk?" a blob- man?- asked . "ma'am, consumption of alcohol and being under the influence is not permitted inside of the mall, so i'm going to have to-"

"nononono, ‘m notdrunk…" y/n's words were sloppy and rushed. Hoping and praying he believed her, she wobbled a little bit on her feet.

Her body was trembling from the adrenaline and her legs desperately threatened to come out from underneath her. "im… diabetic," she paused, swallowing. "imhaving a hypoglycemia episode." sweat trickled down the back of her neck, making her wince at the feeling. "i need… i need food, like, now, beforeipassout, andgo intoa coma" y/n took a deep breath.

the man looked around. y/n was getting weaker by the second. her legs still felt like toothpicks and jello, with nothing left to support her. "i need… i need to sit…” y/n tried to stay on her feet, but her legs went slack and she was suddenly falling.

An arm wrapped around her waist. “No,” he mumbled quietly. “You gotta show me what to get you.” The man asked. He hoisted y/n in the air, shifting her weight and carrying her bridal style to the food court. “Alright… we got… pretzels, pizza, slushies, popcor-“

"slushies." y/n answered, a barely audible sound.

he nodded.

the man cut in front of the small line at a vendor and carefully set her in a chair. "i need two red slushies, the biggest size you have. please." he pulls out his wallet and slams a few crumpled dollar bills on the counter.

the worker stared at him for a second. "mike, you work here but you have to go to the back of the li-" the woman started.

"I’m sorry, Wendy but it's a medical emergency, she's diabetic and is really close to going into a coma, so im gonna need you to hurry,” mike rushed out, sneaking a glance back at y/n. She was pale and very clammy. It was obvious that she’d pass out soon.

Wendy followed Mike’s gaze and swallowed nervously. Then she turned on her heels and got to work.

y/n had her head in her arms, resting it on the table. she felt like shit. I wish i knew his name, she thought to herself. heat flashed through her body and her hands shook furiously, she felt like she had just run a marathon but hadn't moved an inch. she tried to distract herself from how horrible she felt, what had she done to get this low? Ah that's right. she had overcorrected for a stubborn high, then guess the amount of insulin for a giant drink, which she then proceeded to spill. Shit! she hadn't eaten anything to make up for the insulin she had given.

the man came back with two huge red slushies and says: “please drink this." he sets one down in front of her, and y/n pulls it towards herself and takes a sip.

mike- focused on making sure that the woman was alright- finally registered the whispers and snickers of passerby.

“Come with me," he murmurs. Mike gently grasps her again, handing her the second slushie. "Hold on to those for me, please.” Mike carries her into a small, office-looking room. He carefully sets y/n down against a wall, and he sinks down the wall beside her. Mike holds his hand out for his slushie and waits until y/n hands it to him.

"Uh… wait, i think that's the one i drank out of." She took the drink out of his hands and placed the other one in it. "No, actually this is the one i didn't drink out of. Here switch me again."

"Please just drink the slushie," he sighed.

After about 10 minuets y/n’s blood sugar started to come back up. it was hovering in the 40-50 range which was better than what it had been but still way too low for y/n to drive home. “Hey can you check something for me?" she asked, her vision still a little swirly and her hands still shaking.

Now y/n was able to read Mike’s nametag- which thankfully had a large font. “Hi Mike,” she added with a smile.

Mike smiled back at her, eyes softening slightly at her smile- it lit up her face. “What do you need me to do? Oh and, uh, what’s your name?”

"My name is y/n, but I need you to check something on my insulin pump, my vision is still a little...weird." She motioned towards her eyes. Unable to see small things with her current impaired eyesight, it would be quite a struggle to do it herself. She pulled out the small device. Turning it on she opened it up and turned the screen towards him. "That really little number down at the bottom."

Mike takes the device and squints at the tiny numbers. "It says... 10.7 u. Is that good or bad?" he blinks.

"Oh my god,” y/n groaned. “The one time i decide to pre-bolus, this happens. 10.7 units of unnecessary insulin. Sorry for interrupting and everything. I really should've been better about it." y/n shook her head.

"Hey as long as you're okay then it's totally fine. We can spend as long as you need to in here. I don't really have anywhere i need to be and this is a lot more eventful than what I normally do anyway… I’m not really complaining." Mike glances at his watch.

After a while of waiting and periodic finger pokes y/n's blood sugar returned to a safe enough number to drive home. They had sat talking to each other the entire time. y/n learned about Abby and about Garrett, and how his mom died and dad left.

"Well, I should get going. Thank you so much for everything, Mike." y/n smiles and smiles at him. A smile that just… lights up her face. Her eyes crinkle and a dimple appeared on her right cheek. Mike swears he almost swoons- he’s never had a (pretty) girl look at him like that.

Before she gets up, y/n tilts Mike’s head towards her and she places a delicate kiss on his cheek.

Mike swallows. He knows he’s probably overthinking it, just a simple thank you he reasons. So why did y/n’s eyes dart to his lips before getting up and heading for the door?

y/n has her stuff packed up before Mike realizes it. He watches her pick up her empty cup and toss it into the trash can. But before she leaves-

"Can I- uh," Mike stops y/n, voice breathless. "Is there any chance i can get your phone number? Just, uhm, in case you....y-know... need something again."

So Mike watches y/n write down her name and telephone number on a piece of paper. He watches the way a flush appeared on the apples of her cheeks. Mike watches her offer the paper to him and delights in the way she smiles again. But this time her smile is more bashful, more shy. Mike thinks it’s adorable.

“Thank you,” Mike murmurs, taking the paper. Her fingers brushed his and the flush darkens.

“I should be thanking you, Mike,” y/n says.

Mike can’t think of what to say next. He just stands there, falling further and further into y/n’s eyes. Slowly, cautiously, Mike reaches a hand out to y/n’s waist. She closes the space between them, letting herself be pulled into Mike’s arms.

Her hands wrap around Mike’s back in an embrace, but still looking at him, waiting for his next move.

“Mike?”

“Hm?”

“Are you gonna kiss me, or what?”

Mike leans down and presses his lips to y/n’s, tasting the flavor of the slushie on her lips. He feels y/n sigh against his lips, like she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

All too soon, y/n pulled away. “You should get back to work,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Mike whisperes back.

“Call me, Mike.”

“I will,” he murmurs, lips still tender from their kiss.

——👾; present time

“I’m free this weekend- if, y’know, you want to go get dinner or something. Abby can come too if you want,” y/n says over the phone.

In all honesty, Mike’s surprised y/n remembers Abby, even though they only talked about six hours ago. “Sure! Where do you-“ Mike swallows, “where do you want to go?” He doesn’t want to go anywhere too expensive even though he wish he could. He just couldn’t afford that.

“I’m okay with anything, homestly. Abby can pick if she comes.”

Mike smiles. “I’ll talk to her about it.” He knows Abby would say yes.

The phone crackles as the two fall into momentary silence.

“I’m glad you called,” y/n admits.

”I’m glad I called, too,” Mike replies.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. In fact, Mike doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. Ever. So as he sat there, talking to y/n, Mike told himself that she was good. Good for him, for Abby. This had to be the start of something better; a change in his life, perhaps.

Even later, when Mike was getting ready to sleep, he fell asleep thinking of her.

#pax writes📝#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #five nights at freddys movie #fnaf movie #fluff #mike schmidt fluff #diabetic #diabetic reader

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