the thought of Mike arriving at his home a second too late and the Abbionette actually crushing Vanessa's skull just crossed my mind and i don't like it
operation kill Mike Schmidt!!??! The novel lobotomized him so much!! Schmelly fans are on the brink of extinction 😦😔 "you're just like you're father" HELLO???
I REFUSE creep jeremiah so have headcanons that are realistic because we need it
Jeremiah is a hardcore baseball fan. He has a collection of rookies cards about players he admires in his room and tries to watch every single match when he can.
Former catcher: he still works at the gym, and his daily training allowed him to become a respected mall security guard
He has a sister named Destiny who wants to become an archaeologist and loves paleontology. She has tons of dino figurines in her bedroom and owns a space poster (from her childhood fav movie). She thinks Jurassic Park movies are inaccurate and prefers to read the novels.
Has a small apartment near his workplace but often stays at his family house to help his mother for chores
Had a crush on Mike but it quickly vanished after he found out that Mike had a thing for Vanessa. He still values their friendship a lot and comes around to help.
Actually shed a tear when Mike was fired from his security guard post at the mall, but remained calm when he was officially informed
His fav dessert is pancakes with a cherry on top. He also enjoys bagels and his eyes light up when Mike picks some for snack time.
On the ace-spec, doesn't really have a partner nor think about getting one.
Was a great student at school, loved chemistry a lot, but ended up focusing on trying to become a judo teacher
Really likes martial arts, but didn't pursue in that field after a bad injury.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Wrote a little one-shot for today's prompt 'drink'
Summary:
“Vanessa? Are you alright?” He asked cautiously
Her head snapped up, her face covered by her hair. She brought a wobbly hand to her face and tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. “Mike!” She slurred out.
Mike took a step back, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was drunk.
-
A very drunk Vanessa shows up at Mike's door unannounced, and Mike does his best to take care of her.
Mike has been parked outside of Vanessa's house for almost ten minutes now, trying to gain the nerve to actually go inside.
It's not that he thinks she won't like it — well, that's part of it — but that the thing sitting in his passenger seat is so embarrassingly sincere it makes his chest hurt every time he thinks about her seeing it.
It looked fine in his shop — good, even — and he'd been proud of it there, standing under the bright overhead light with sawdust still clinging to his shirt and his tools scattered around him. He'd spent nearly a month trying to make is as perfect as possible — even stained it a pretty color to match her bedroom furniture — and now it's done and wrapped up in a brown paper bag and he has to actually give it to her.
Great.
Mike groans softly and lets his head fall back against the seat. It would be one thing if he'd just bought her one, but this? This is a whole other level of humiliating.
This is a whole month of evenings in his shop, measuring and sanding and redoing parts that were already perfectly functional just because he knew they could be better. A whole month of thinking about how Vanessa had complained to him three separate times about her old jewelry box — some tiny thing from her childhood that was just one shallow compartment — and about how it took her forever to find matching earrings, even longer to untangle one necklace chain from the other, and how 'I swear to god, I hate this stupid box, I just need to get a new one.'
Mike knows her well enough to know that she'd never actually get herself a new one — knows she'd just keep putting it off because she doesn't like to buy herself things unless she actually needs them — so he'd decided to just build her one himself.
There are sections in the top for rings and earrings, deeper little drawers for bracelets, and brass hooks on either side behind narrow glass doors for necklaces. He'd even lined the inside because the bare wood had looked too rough and unfinished for something meant to hold her things.
Mike scrubs both hands down his face, then forces himself upright again, staring hard at her front door.
He could still leave, technically, but that would make him a coward, and he'd still have to live with the fact that he spent a month making Vanessa a jewelry box only to panic in her driveway and go home.
Mike glances over at the bag on the passenger seat. It’s not even wrapped well — Abby had told him so herself, but offered no help to fix it — just folded over at the top and taped shut. The brown paper at least looks a little less formal, he thinks — a little less like he spent a month building Vanessa something custom because he pays way too much attention to every little thing she says.
Get a grip.
He finally grabs the bag and climbs out of the car before he actually drives back home. The night air is cool enough to sting faintly at his cheeks, and Vanessa's porch light is on, glowing warm against the dark. Mike tries not to think about how many times he's walked up the path to her porch, only knows that it's been enough times that it should feel less nerve-wracking by now.
By the time he reaches the front door, his pulse is thudding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He shifts the box higher in his arms, stares at the door for one last second, then knocks before he can chicken out. He waits a moment before he hears the soft click of the lock, the turning of the handle, and then the door swings open.
Vanessa's wearing a sweatshirt and some soft-looking sleep shorts, toweling at her hair that's wet from a shower. She immediately smiles at Mike, then her eyes fall to the brown bag and narrow suspiciously. "What's that?"
Mike huffs a nervous laugh and adjusts his grip on the box, because if he somehow managed to drop it, he's pretty sure he'd just crawl under her porch and die right there. "It's nothing."
Vanessa eyes him knowingly, an amused look spreading across her face. "It's definitely something."
Mike can feel his face getting hot already. "Can I come in?"
She steps aside with a quiet giggle, and Mike slips past her into the house, clutching the bag a little tighter than he means to. It’s warm inside, smelling faintly like the apple-cinnamon candle she always has burning and her vanilla shampoo.
"What is it?" Vanessa asks again, shutting the door behind them as Mike walks over to her counter. He sets it down quietly, trying not to make a noise so she doesn't figure out what it is before she actually opens it. He turns around as she pads over to him, tossing her towel over one of her barstools.
"It's uh…" He trails off, suddenly losing every ounce of confidence that got him out of the car and inside her house. "I made you something."
Vanessa freezes in front of him, brow arching in curiosity. "You made me something?"
"You might hate it," Mike rushes out, wringing his hands together now that they aren't holding onto the box. "But I just… thought you might like it."
Vanessa’s expression changes so fast it almost gives him whiplash. The amusement softens into something warmer, and she takes a step closer, tilting her head.
"Hey," she says, voice gentler now. "I’m not gonna hate it."
Mike lets out a weak little laugh. "You don’t know that."
"Mike," she starts, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "You know I love anything you make."
He supposes she's not wrong. Ever since he got fully into carpentry, she acts like every little thing he makes is some kind of miracle — a shelf, a new nightstand for Abby, fixing one of her kitchen drawers so it stops sticking. Vanessa reacts to all of it like he's invented something brand new, which is nice in theory and significantly less nice when he's standing in her kitchen with a handmade jewelry box that she very much could hate.
She probably won't, but still.
Mike rubs his palms against his jeans and glances toward the bag. "It’s just— I don’t know. If it’s not your thing, that’s fine. Seriously. I just thought it would be nice."
"There is literally no world where I won't like it." Vanessa steps closer to the counter then, fingers curling around the fold of the bag. "Can I open it?"
Mike lets out a quiet breath through his nose and nods before he can snatch it away from her. "Yeah."
Vanessa smiles as she carefully peels the tape off and unfolds the paper, opening the bag and peeking inside. She glances at him with intrigue — probably because all the can see is the smooth wood from the top compartment of the box — then reaches inside to pull it out.
She gasps once it's fully out of the bag, and sets it down so carefully it almost makes him laugh. For a second all she can do is stare, and Mike's heart is beating so hard he genuinely thinks he might keel over onto her floor and die out of anticipation.
"Mike," she breathes, eyes wide in awe as she smooths a hand over the box. "You made this?"
Mike exhales an awkward sound, his throat feeling weirdly tight. "Um… yeah."
Vanessa looks up at him, and there’s something wide and soft in her face that makes Mike’s stomach twist even harder.
"You made this," she says again, quieter this time, "for me?"
Mike shrugs, immediately hating how small the gesture feels. "Yeah"
Vanessa’s eyes drop right back to the jewelry box. Her fingertips trace along the edge of the lid first, then over one of the drawers, then the little side doors. She opens the top and stares down into the compartments inside.
"Oh my God," she murmurs.
Mike rubs his palms against his jeans. "You said your old one was annoying, so…"
He cuts himself off as she opens one of the drawers, then another, then one of the narrow glass doors on the side. Vanessa lets out another soft little gasp, suddenly smiling so wide that Mike can't help but smile too.
"I know it’s kind of a lot," he says quickly, "and maybe weird, because I know I could’ve just bought one, but I wanted it to actually fit your stuff. The ones in stores never really look like they have enough room, and I wanted you to have plenty room, so I just—"
Vanessa glances back up at him, and the words die in his throat. She walks in front of him slowly, letting her arms loosely wrap around his neck. "Mike."
He swallows and looks up at her, and he swears her eyes look a little bit glassy. "Yeah?"
She giggles and leans in closer, backing him up until his lower back is pressed against the counter. "You built me a jewelry box?"
He lets his hands come up to her hips, settling loosely around the curve of her waist. "Yeah."
One of her hands cups his face as she tugs him closer, guiding his mouth to hers. Mike breathes out softly through his nose and kisses her back properly, and Vanessa lets out the sweetest, most content little hum before she pulls away. She doesn’t go far, resting her forehead against his and leaning in until their bodies are pressed flush together.
"That," she murmurs, brushing her nose against his, "is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."
Mike lets out a surprised laugh, hands rubbing up and down her sides. "Really?"
"Yes, really." Her thumb strokes over his cheek before falling to his bottom lip, tracing it lightly. "You made it by hand."
Mike can feel his face warm, and he tips his head up just enough to meet her gaze, admiring the soft flecks of gold in her eyes. "Well… yeah."
Vanessa giggles again and pecks his lips softly a few times in a row, then presses one to his cheek and another to the corner of his eye. "You listened to me complain."
"Vanessa," he says, rolling his eyes playfully. "It's just a box."
"It's not just a box." She presses another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "It’s a box you made for me because you paid attention to something that was bothering me and decided to fix it."
Mike opens his mouth to argue, but Vanessa kisses him again before he can get a word out. This one is longer, a little deeper, one that makes him forget any further protests or complaints.
"Mm," Vanessa hums, pulling back slowly from his lips. "I love it, Mike."
Mike lets out a breath through his nose, somewhere between embarrassed and helpless. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She slides her hands down his arms until she gets to his wrists, then lets go of them to go back over to the box. "I love that you made it."
His face warms all over again. He’s pretty sure he’s been blushing for the better part of the last ten minutes, which is objectively humiliating, but Vanessa doesn’t seem to mind. He turns his head to watch her trace over the details he added in the trimming. It feels different now, somehow, standing here while Vanessa actually admires something he created with his own hands.
"C'mon," Vanessa says suddenly, scooping the box up in her arms. "I wanna put my stuff in it."
"Right now?" Mike asks around a startled laugh.
Vanessa looks back at him like the question is ridiculous. "Yes, right now."
She turns to walk down the hallway towards her room, and Mike realizes she's probably expecting him to follow. He trails after her into her bedroom, where Vanessa has already set the box down and is shoving the other one out of the way. Mike snorts to himself and sits on the edge of her bed while she positions the box where she wants it to go.
"It's so pretty," she gushes, stepping backwards once she's got it in place. "And it matches my dresser perfectly.
Mike can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. "I tried to get it as close as I could."
"Well, you did great." She reaches for the old jewelry box to start swapping everything out, and grimaces the second she lifts it. "God, I hate this thing."
Mike laughs and gets up off the bed, coming to stand beside her. "You’ve said."
"And I mean it."
She flips the lid open, and the inside is exactly the kind of mess he’d built the new one for. Tangled chains, loose rings, a bracelet hooked around an earring. Vanessa dumps all of out onto her dresser, the clatter echoing throughout the quiet of her bedroom. She stares down at the messy little pile with narrowed eyes, then reaches in and lifts up two necklaces that are somehow already looped around each other.
"See. It's awful."
"I got it," Mike chuckles, carefully taking the necklaces and slowly working them apart. Vanessa leans her hip against the dresser and watches him do it, arms folding loosely over her chest, still looking altogether too pleased with herself.
When he finally gets it untangled, he opens one of the little glass doors and hangs the first necklace on one of the brass hooks.
Vanessa gasps immediately, eyes completely lighting up. "Oh my god."
She reaches out and lightly taps the hanging chain with the tip of her finger, smiling so wide Mike can't help but stare. "You like it?"
"Do I like it?" she asks, sounding completely baffled. "Mike, you added necklace hooks."
Mike lets out a quiet laugh, feeling another flicker of pride. "Yeah, I figured that was the selling point."
Vanessa only smiles as she starts digging through the rest the little pile on her dresser, sorting things one at a time while Mike helps where she needs him. The two of them work shoulder to shoulder in the warm quiet of her room, and every so often Vanessa glances up at him with that same content look that’s been making him blush all night.
By the time the last few pieces are put away, the whole dresser looks put together again. Vanessa closes the little glass door over the necklaces, then the lid, and stands there staring at it for a second like she still can’t believe it’s hers.
Mike wipes his hands on his jeans. "Happy now?"
Vanessa turns her head and looks at him, completely beaming. "Very."
She loops her arms back around his neck and tugs him in, kissing him slowly until he fully melts against her.
"Thank you," she hums once she's pulled back, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I really love it."
"Good," Mike murmurs, finally allowing himself to feel a little more proud.
Vanessa smiles and kisses him again, and Mike’s hands find her waist automatically, bunching up the fabric of her sweatshirt. Then she nudges him back a step, then another. Mike breaks the kiss just enough to laugh. "Van—"
She doesn’t answer. She just kisses him again and keeps walking him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He drops down onto the mattress with a startled huff, looking up at her as she stands between his legs, hair still damp around her shoulders, eyes gleaming with something warmer that makes his stomach flip. Mike’s face is already hot by the time she leans in again, sliding herself into his lap.
"You know," she murmurs, one hand sliding up into his hair as she kisses the corner of his mouth, "you are ridiculously good with your hands."
"Vanessa." Mike wraps his arms fully around her waist where she's straddling him, holding tight so she doesn't slip off his lap.
She hums an innocent little sound as she mouths down the line of his jaw, kissing until she's hovering near his ear. "What? You are."
Mike shudders at the way her voice drops a little lower, tipping his head to the side when she grazes her teeth against his ear. "You think?"
"Mhm." She leans her head back up to kiss him again. "Think you can show me what else they're good for?"
Mike’s breath catches so hard it almost hurts. For half a second he just stares up at her, hands tightening at her waist, his whole face burning hotter under the look she’s giving him. He lets out a shaky laugh and tips his forehead against hers.
"Yeah," he murmurs, voice rough. "I think I can do that."
Vanessa smiles like she already knew the answer. She kisses him once, slow and pleased, and then again when he brings his hands up her sides with a little more confidence this time, her sigh melting right into his mouth. By the time she nudges him down against the bed, still smiling against his lips, Mike is too dizzy on her to feel embarrassed about any of it anymore.
He built something just for her, but Mike can’t help feeling like he got the best gift of all.