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joemothersfavoritechild · 1 year ago

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“across the street” pt. 2

-3k-ish words

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-no trauma au

an: thanks for all the love on my last post!! i took some inspiration from a few joel miller fics for this one. also, referring to the ending, gotta let it marinate or sum. and if you get the orange reference, marry me.

summary: you have a late night phone call with yk who, and build furniture in the morning.

part one is here!

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You plopped down in your chair, sighing while rubbing hand sanitizer over your hands. Your shift had been busy as hell, this being the first break you had all day, and it was only halfway over. You wiped your now clean hands over your eyes, trying to rub the tired soreness out of them. At least the pay is good, you thought.

Your coworker calling your name pulled you away from your thoughts.

“25 wants you again.” They said.

“Why me?” You whined.

“I don’t know, I think she prefers women.” They answered your rhetorical, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck me, I’m going to have to take my lunch after this. I’m never working another Sunday.” You said, standing up on your practically creaking legs.

This was how the rest of your afternoon went, running in all directions like a chicken with its head cut off. “23 wants an ice cream,” “25 pulled out her IV again,” “Call security on 26, he’s trying to leave.” It was an absolute shit show, you hardly had a chance to see the time on your phone, let alone check for a text that you were desperate to receive.

Your drive home was quiet, soft music playing to hopefully decompress you. It always seemed to help. You pulled into your driveway, noticing the lights on at a certain someone’s house across the street, his old Accord telling you that he was home. You turned your car off, trying to stop looking at it from your rearview.

Walking into your house wasn’t as satisfying as you’d hoped, boxes still covering the floor. You took your shoes off as you set your work bag on the ground. You looked at your bed frame again in the dark, not bothering to turn a light on. Was a day too early to expect a message? Was that considered desperate? Probably, you thought. But fuck, you were so desperate. He checked all the boxes,

cute? : check

siblings? : check

caring? : check

a little mean? : check

dorky as hell? : check

abandonment issues? : probably check!

You forced yourself to pull your eyes off the box. As the saying goes, a watched fish doesn’t get caught.

That’s not right, you think. Your tired brain can’t decipher what you were trying to go for, but you knew it would’ve worked.

Anyways, constantly thinking about someone texting you doesn’t help anything. You plugged your phone into the charger near the couch, purposefully ignoring staring at it for too long.

Your eyes fell back to the boxes surrounding you. You passed them all, going straight to your bathroom to shower.

The shower was the right call, you decided. Scorching water loosened your muscles and kept your mind in the present. Washing the outside world off your skin was the highlight of your day.

You got out of the shower, eventually. The warm water didn’t last as long as you had hoped, though it did try. Your nearly hour-long shower would overwhelm any water heater on the market. You quickly dried yourself off, taking the time to brush your teeth and apply your skincare before wrapping your towel around yourself and stepping into your bedroom. You threw on some pajamas from your suitcase that moved with you; pajama pants and an old shirt.

You balled up your work clothes into your towel and put them all in the laundry basket in the corner of your room, already beginning to overflow. You reminded yourself to start the laundry sometime tomorrow as you walked back to your temporary bed, the large green couch in your living room.

You pulled back the covers on the couch, piling into it. You had completely decked it out; two blankets, a comforter, two pillows (one for your head, one for between your legs), and the fan dialed up. You closed your eyes, listening to the white noise of the fan above you.

You were interrupted by the shrill noise of your phone ringing behind you. You groaned, folding your blankets over so you could get off the couch and walk to the charger. You ripped your phone off the charger, taking it with you as you laid back into your bed. You re-adjusted your blankets before pulling the phone under your ear and swiping to accept the call.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Hey.” A voice responded. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized it. You were suddenly awake with nervousness.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi. Um, I texted you,” He said, sounding more like a question than a comment. “A few times, not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” He joked.

You paused, trying to quickly check your messages.

“You there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I’ve been working all day. It was super busy, so I didn’t have time to check my phone, and when I got home all I was thinking about was sleep.” You described.

“No need to be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You responded.

“Good, good,” He pauses. “So, um, how was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.” You summarize, hearing him laugh in the background.

“Tell me about it.”

So, you did. You proceeded to tell him all the gritty details about your job. What your coworkers are like, the patients that you had to deal with, the frequent fliers, all of it. He asked a lot of questions, making you feel more comfortable rambling on to him.

“What’d you have for lunch?” He asked.

“I had leftover wingstop, I barely have any food at the house.”

“What’s your order?”

“Eight-piece boneless, classic hot. With fries, ranch, and a huge coke. It was amazing,” You said, practically salivating remembering it. “What about you and Abs?” You asked.

“It was very fancy, I don’t know if you’re prepared to hear me talk about it, you might be jealous,” He said sarcastically. “I made cheese quesadillas.”

You laughed a little too long at that, surprised. He was funny, another check.

You talked on the phone for a while, so long that you were talking about the most boring stuff. Like how Abby was a picky eater, and it annoyed Mike because all he wanted to do was eat a good burger now and again. It was sickly sweet and felt like being a teenager again. Whispering as to not wake your parents up, hoping that they wouldn’t catch you up past your bedtime.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you fell asleep on the phone. Mike was talking about something, maybe about the tv show he had been watching. You’re not exactly positive, but you know that you passed out cold.

Your eyes fluttered open, the phone still pressed up against your cheek, warm from the contact. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your dream in your mind. You had to think hard, as it was delicate. If you let it go, you’d never remember what it was.

It was a good dream, as most of yours tended to be. You didn’t remember a lot, only pieces of it. But you knew Mike was there. You knew that he had led you to your bed, pulling you under the covers with him. You talked, cuddling close to him. God, it had felt so real. You could practically see the lines under his eyes and the pores on his nose. You smiled, but this felt a little creepy at this point. Borderline delusional, your mind added. You barely knew him and you were already dreaming about him.

You grabbed the phone from under your face, groaning as it got unstuck from your skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t dead. You unlocked it, taking the opportunity to look at the texts that you had gotten the night before.

Yesterday, 12:36 pm: hey, this is mike. i’ll need you on the weekends from 8 am-4 pm. and idc that you said not to pay you, i’m building your bed too.

Yesterday, 2:49 pm: you okay?

Yesterday, 5:03 pm: not to be creepy, but i think i’m going to call you. you’re worrying me a little lol

Today, 1:45 am: i think you fell asleep, i’ll talk to you in the morning :)

You smiled, making a contact for him. “mike <3” was now typing. Three little dots popped up on your screen and you quickly swiped out in nervousness. You opened it again when you got a notification.

Today, 10:23 am: i dropped abby off for school and slept in a little, is it okay if i come over to build that bed frame for you?

You smiled again, quickly replying to make up for last night.

Today, 10:24 am: yeah, ofc. give me a few minutes to wake up lol, i need to brush my teeth and clean up for a second.

He replied immediately.

Today, 10:24 am: lmk when you’re ready

You willed yourself to stop smiling, god it had been too long. You hardly knew how to act with a potential date.

“Oh, god.” You muttered to yourself, realizing you had to talk to him. Why did you have to talk to a man to get a boyfriend? Why couldn’t it just happen telepathically?

You sighed, rolling off the couch. You plugged your phone back into the charger, making your way to the bathroom. You completed your morning routine and ran to your bedroom to pick something out to wear for the day. You decided to go for casual, grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Didn’t want to seem too desperate. You pulled your socks up your feet, laughing at yourself.

You grabbed a quick breakfast from your kitchen, consisting of leftover cookies and a slice of cold pizza. You tried your best to tidy your place up, moving boxes to the corner of the living room. Running down the hallway to your bedroom with your boxed bed frame in hand, you placed it on the floor, taking the other boxes and moving them to the hallway. You scrubbed your toilet and sink, turning on the air fresheners you had placed around the house.

You washed your hands, drying them before returning to the living room. You texted Mike, letting him know that you were ready. He liked the text message, and in less than two minutes he was knocking on your door.

You eyed the door at the noise. Jesus, he was not playing around. You took another deep breath, opening the door to see him standing there with a small smile. He went for casual too, you noted. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. He held a bag, which you assumed was full of tools.

You smiled at him as a greeting and opened the door wider to allow him to walk into your house.

“Hey.” He said as you walked past you.

“Hi, thanks for coming so quickly.” You responded. “You didn’t have to, the payment feels premature.” You joked, shutting the front door. He looked a you for a second while taking his shoes off at the entryway.

“Shut up, you can’t sleep on the couch for a week”

“I totally can.” You bite back.

“You won’t, where’s your bedroom?” He finished, looking at you again.

You were shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm up. The comment made your head spin. Fuck, could he tell that you liked that?

You said nothing, ignoring his little smirk as you walked him to your bedroom. He followed behind you, dropping the bag on the floor with a small thump.

“Do you need any help or something?” You asked finally, breaking the tense silence.

“No, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of stuff like this,” He answered, shrugging. “You could put on some background music?” He suggested.

“That, I can do.”

You nodded, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You hesitated, before choosing a slower playlist of yours. Something calm, that you didn’t have to focus on. He nodded in enjoyment, then began to open the box that held your bed frame. He spilled the contents onto the floor, then kneeled on the ground. He started pulling stuff out of his bag. You guessed correctly, it was full of tools.

You just watched, sitting down against the wall of your room. It was attractive, him expertly putting your bed frame together. He was good with his hands, you wondered what else he was good at. He looked at you after a moment.

“You just gonna watch?”

“If that’s okay.” You shrugged, he nodded at your sort of question. He tried to hide his smile.

He was going to town, drilling, piecing parts together, all while completely ignoring the instructions. He didn’t need them.

After a while, you could tell he was getting hot. His black shirt was sticking to his skin. You hated to admit that it did something to you. You felt a warmth settle in your stomach and tried your best to will it away. Your eyes settled on his back, looking up to his neck when he turned towards you.

“Why’re looking at me like that?” He asked, eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

You made eye contact with him like a deer in headlights. Smiling at you, he laughed a little. Your words were stuck in your throat, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, do you want some water?” You settled on.

“Sure.” He answered, chuckling at your suddenly shy demeanor.

You stood up off the floor and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You scolded yourself, internally. Now he was going to think that you were a horny weirdo. I mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

You shook your head at yourself as you poured him a glass. This was ridiculous, you needed to chill out.

You came back into the bedroom and handed him the glass. He took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing over yours as he grabbed it. Telling you a small “thank you,” he brought the glass to his lips and began to drink greedily. You watched him as he downed the glass, some dripping down his chin.

When he was finished, he wiped a hand over his stubble. He looked over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He held the glass out to you and you took it, quickly walking out of the room.

You placed the glass in the sink, blinking to try and bring yourself back to life. How did someone make drinking water look so good? How was that even possible? And god, the look he gave you.

You needed to get it together before you blew it. Talk to him, say something, anything other than just fucking staring at him.

You walked back into the room with a mission, you were going to talk to him. Taking your spot on the floor, you cleared your throat.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” You decided on.

He barely paused before answering, “Definitely pasta, like a good chicken alfredo.”

“Shit, that’s a good answer. I’m really into sushi right now. Can’t afford it, but into it.” You said, smiling at his willingness to answer.

The stupid questions continued for a few minutes. The two of you got to know the smallest details of your likes and dislikes. Turns out, Mike can’t stand the color yellow but loves orange. He’s not much of a drinker, mainly because he can’t afford it, but he does occasionally smoke weed. He’s a cat person but would get a dog if Abby asked for one. It killed you when he talked about his sister because it was so obvious how much he loved her.

Eventually, he finished your bed frame. The gentleman that he is forced him to carry your mattress in from the laundry room, helping you set that up too. Mike may have been on the shorter side, but he was strong as hell. The two of you put on your sheets, blankets, pillows, and finally your comforter. It was almost too domestic, too real.

When you were finished, you didn’t want him to leave. You think he felt the same. This was confirmed when he saw the tv sitting in your closet.

“Do you want me to mount that for you?” He asked.

I want you to mount me, you fought against saying.

“That would be great.” You agreed.

Mike probably spent three hours helping you put your bedroom together, setting up shelves, arranging your cabinets, and helping you put your pictures and posters up while you talked his ear off.

Even though you told him a million times that he didn’t need to, he hung your clothes up in your closet while you folded the rest to go in your new dresser. Finally, your room was fully decorated and unpacked.

He rubbed his hands together, settling on the end of your bed. You sat next to him.

“Thank you, seriously. I was dreading doing all of that by myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

You both looked at each other for a second too long, the tension between the two of you becoming thick. You took breaks from looking at his eyes by moving down to his lips. You took a deep breath, noticing him moving closer to you.

He hesitated, pushing a stray hair behind your ear instead. His hand lingered on your face, eventually moving down your arm to put your hand in his. He interlocked your fingers together, pulling it close to him and pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. He held you there, hand resting on his chin. This was almost more intimate than a kiss, you thought.

“Do you not-” You started, getting interrupted.

“I want to, believe me.”

You looked at him, willing him to continue.

“I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” He explained, you nodded. You know that this was him being respectful, but it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. Forbidden fruit, if you will.

“Let me take you on a date, tomorrow on my lunch break. I know a place you’d like.” He continued.

“Okay.” You said, smiling.

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**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

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joemothersfavoritechild · 1 year ago

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“across the street”

-1.5k words

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-no trauma au

an: i’ve never written anything like this, so pls let me live lmao ik that it’s corny. this is more self indulgent than anything, but the mike schmidt hype has hit me hard 😭

summary: you move into a new place and meet your neighbors

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A sudden knocking pulled you out of your sleep, causing you to sit up on the couch. You looked at your surroundings for a moment, trying to remember where you were.

You had just moved into the house that you were leasing the night before, and still had so much to unpack. It was on the smaller side, a two bedroom one bathroom, but it was a steal for the price. Boxes were strewn around the room, and your eyes landed on one particularly large one. Your bed frame, which was still taped up. Leading you to fall asleep on the couch last night.

Another knock, smaller than the first, was heard. You hopped off the couch, suddenly remembering the cause of your early morning. You ran a hand through your hair, double-checking your outfit. Of course, someone had to knock as you were in pajamas; an old oversized t-shirt, and some black shorts.

“I’m coming, sorry!” You yelled, speed walking up to the front door.

Before you could look around you, you tripped on a box next to the couch. You fell, and landed directly on your ass, shouting out a loud curse.

“Fuck.” You muttered, rubbing your stubbed toe. At least your socks took the brunt of the pain.

“Are you okay?” A muffled voice asked.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Sorry, this is embarrassing.” You rambled, mostly to yourself.

You took in a deep breath, what a morning. You stood from the ground, now directly in front of the large wooden door. You tried your best to compose yourself before you were unlocking and swinging it open.

Standing in front of you was a little girl. She had bangs, a huge smile, and a big tupperware box in her small hands. Next to her was a young man, around your age. He was definitely attractive, in jeans and a grey sweatshirt. You looked at him for a little longer than socially acceptable before speaking.

“Hi.” You said with a small smile.

“Hi!” The little girl replied, her smile mimicking yours.

“Uh, this is my sister, Abby.” The cute guy said, gesturing towards his sister. You followed his movement with your eyes, landing on her again. You smiled at her before he continued.

“I’m Mike-“ He said before he was interrupted.

“We live across the street,” Abby said loudly. He glanced at her, nodding at her comment. You held back a laugh at his annoyed expression. They were siblings, alright.

“We made some cookies, thought we’d introduce ourselves.” He finished.

You made eye contact with him, finally, too overwhelmed to do it before. God, was it a mistake. How could you control yourself when he was so fine? He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a soft expression on his face. You were fucked.

You introduced yourself, Abby complimenting your name.

“Thank you so much for the cookies, I bet you did all the work.” You said, winking at Abby. She quickly nodded, and her brother bumped into her playfully with his hip. She giggled, handing the box over to you.

“Do you guys want to come in and try these with me? My house is a mess, but it’s whatever.” You asked, hoping that he would agree.

Abby looked over to Mike for his approval, she muttered a tiny “please”. He seemed to be contemplating before you continued.

“I have milk.”

“Okay.” He said. You opened the door further at his answer, leading them into your house. Mike closed the door behind you all.

You took them to your kitchen, which was thankfully the cleanest place in your house. You set the box on the island, opening up your fridge, and grabbing the half gallon of milk you had bought. You grabbed your only glasses and filled them up. You set one in front of each of them.

“You guys caught me on a good day, with the milk.” You joked, noticing Mike’s small chuckle.

Cookies were dispersed, and you groaned as you bit into it. You nodded in enjoyment, taking a small sip of milk.

“These are good.” You said to yourself.

Abby nodded enthusiastically, “I already had some before we came over.” She said.

You laughed at her comment and looked over to Mike, who was looking at Abby with the same exasperated look from earlier.

“You had to taste test them, I understand.” You said to her.

Abby looked at her brother, and then back towards you. He looked confused for a second but then spoke.

“Oh- um, what brought you to the neighborhood?” He asked, popping the rest of his cookie in his mouth. You wiped the crumbs off your hands before answering.

“I work at the hospital over here, so I decided to get a place to myself that was closer.” You said simply.

“Oh, that’s awesome. So you live by yourself?”

“Yep, just me.” You answered, wondering about him. “What about the two of you?”

“Just us.” He said simply, you nodded at his answer.

“Abby, how old are you?” You asked, trying to include her in the conversation more.

“I’m about to turn ten.” She replied.

“What about you?” Mike asked, bringing your attention back to him.

“I’m twenty-one.” You answered. His eyes lit up for a second.

“Twenty-two,” He said, pointing to himself. You smiled at his goofy gesture.

You were so screwed, you had a thing for dorks. Fuck it, you thought. Might as well try.

“Why don’t we exchange numbers? That way if you needed a favor, or a babysitter,” You said, looking at Abby’s smiling face. “And we could go out for lunch or something.”

He raised his eyebrows for a second but quickly recovered.

“Yeah, yeah,” He squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “That would be great.”

He quickly reached into the pocket of his hoodie and unlocked his phone. He swiped for a second before handing it to you, already on the contacts app. You smiled, putting in your number and name with a “<3” next to it. You returned it to him, noticing his eyes on you.

“Um, Abs. Can you give us a second?” He said, shooing her out of the kitchen.

“You can turn the tv on if you want, Abby. The remote’s on the couch.” You added, she nodded and sent her brother a thumbs up. You smiled at the silly action.

He seemed to need a second to compose himself, so you used his silence to grab the glasses and rinse them out in the sink. You heard the tv click on in the background. As you were placing the cups in the dishwasher, Mike cleared his throat. You turned back to him.

“Were you serious about the babysitting thing? If not, that’s fine. We can just get lunch or something-“ He rambled, you noticed the way he wasn’t rejecting you. You cut his sentence short.

“I was serious, about both.” You clarified, and he nodded at your response. He turned around for a second, looking at his sister. He looked at you again and walked closer to you. He lowered his voice before speaking again.

“This is embarrassing, okay? I really need someone to watch her, but I don’t know how much I could pay you. I haven’t been able to find someone that we can afford.”

“Mike, you don’t have to pay me. She’s a good kid. And I live across the street, it’s easy. Just text me when you need, and I can change my schedule.” You said, feeling helpful.

“You would literally be saving my life.” He expressed, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“Of course,” You said, looking past him and into your cluttered house. “Could you maybe do me a favor instead of paying me?”

He looked at you through his hands.

“Would you help me build my bed frame? I had movers bring in the big stuff, and I could’ve paid them to build it, but they were already so expensive and-“

“Yeah.” He breathed out.

“Yeah?” You asked, not sure what to say.

He nodded, looking at you like he was trying to see through you. Then he looked down at his phone and smiled. When he looked up again he had a light pink on his cheeks.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing. Uh, we’ve gotta go. I need to get Abby to school, but it was great meeting you. I’ll text you. About babysitting and lunch, okay?”

“Okay.”

He nodded again, a small smile on his face. He rounded Abby up and you walked them out. You stood against the doorframe, while the two of them stood in front of you.

“I’ll text.” He repeated.

“I’ll wait.”

The two of you smiled at each other for a second, neither wanting to walk away. You liked this weird banter the two of you had.

“Do you think he’s cute? ” Abby asked, voice monotone.

Your eyes widened, and you started laughing. This was going to be fun, you thought.

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**I do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

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