I'll Find A New Place To Be Found (Mike Schmidt/Reader)

Babysitters Best Work

You spent the rest of the evening with Abby. She excitedly had you watching everything from Mulan and The Lion King. The DVD's themselves were well loved with some scratches over the top but the bottom was good enough to work fine. Though, by the time she got to the third movie of the night, she was nodding off at the coffee table. She would shoot back up and continue drawing before slowly nodding off again. You couldn't help but smile as she tried so hard to keep herself awake. "Ready for bed?" You asked, leaning on the arm of the couch. She whined quietly. "No..." She huffed as she kept drawing. You shook your head playfully as you went back to watching the movie. Eventually, you felt a weight near your knees. When you looked down, Abby was leaning back on the couch, dozing off.

You carefully moved around her to get off the couch. You picked up the remote and turned the TV off. Carefully, you picked up Abby from the floor. She let out a snore-like grunt as you carried her to her room. You set her down in her bed, pulling the blanket back before tucking her in. She curled up easily in bed, rolling onto her side. You gently rubbed her shoulder before tip-toeing to the door. "Goodnight, Abby." You whispered, closing the door as you exited. You sighed before glancing to Mike's room. You looked down at your clothes then back to his room. You were sleeping over and weren't too thrilled to sleep in jeans. You hummed softly to yourself before entering the room. This was your first time inside and... It was pretty bland. He had an old, torn Nebraska poster in the corner of his room. This single poster was one of three things on his wall. The other two were drawings Abby did next to his desk. He had a nightstand next to his bed. On the other side of his bed was his closet and what seemed to be old crates stacked sideways to work as a spot to put his pants. He did have a small bookshelf next to his nightstand; however it was cluttered with books. CDs, a CD player, and random knick knacks. His room felt like a college dorm. The walls were bare besides three things and while the floor was clean, his desk and nightstand were messy.

Your hand ran over his comforter as you walked to his closet. At the bottom he had a chest, locked with a combination lock. You shifted through his shirts before settling on an old simple black shirt. Though the smell of him was so strong. You took the shirt off the hanger and couldn't help yourself. You brought the shirt to your face and sniffed. Pine and a hit of vanilla came off the shirt. Like a warm coffee in the woods. You sighed softly before shedding your sweater off and slipping on the shirt. He wore shirts that were bigger on him, but on you the neckhole nearly slid off your shoulder. It fit loose on him yet it looked almost like a short dress on you. You blushed a bit as you looked through his crate-shelves to see if he had any shorts. All you could find were boxers and a pair of swim trunks. You felt your face heat up a bit.

You just swallowed your pride and moved on. No shorts are fine. Surely he had a pair of PJ pants. You huffed a bit as you reached the bottom of the crates. Luckily, a pair of nice, plaid PJ pants were set neatly. You whispered a quiet 'thank God' before pulling your jeans off. Once you had the admittedly super comfortable PJ pants on, you realized how big they always were on you. You were both about the same height but you had the pants tied so much that the strings poked out from under the shirt. You bent down to pick up your sweater and pants. You took your clothes with you as you left the room to return to the living room. You folded them up before tossing them on the end of the couch. You took the time to clean up the living room, not quite tired yourself yet. You picked the crayons and pencils back in Abby's pencil box and placed it back in her bag along with her loose papers. You moved to sit down on the couch. You couldn't help but think about the day you had with Mike. You kissed. Your fingers traced over your lips at the memory.

You leaned to lay down on the couch. Ugh you felt like a schoolgirl with a stupid fat crush. Which was sort of true. You did like him. If you were really bold you'd even admit that you really might love him. At least you're starting to fall in love with him. He was aloof at first but now he was a mysterious and very attractive man you desperately wanted to crack open. You knew you did today, the yolk inside him shined for a bit. He was the type to try and bury his pain. But it seemed you struck gold. He opened up to you and that was something you'll treasure forever. He really trusted you. As you thought more about it, the faster you drifted off to sleep on the couch. Thinking simply about him. But, who could really blame you?