day-dreamed

[day-dreamed]

overheard — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: a girl flirts with spencer, leading him to tell her that he has a girlfriend, not realizing that garcia is right behind him. content warnings: secret relationship , they're at a bar , girl hitting on spencer a/n: hiii !! can u tell i love the secret relationship trope by now ? bc i do also theres a small tiny pride and prejudice reference if anyone catches it :')

“Do you want anything to drink?�� Spencer asked, his voice gentle as his hand rested on your thigh beneath the table. His fingers squeezed slightly.

The two of you sat in a dimly lit booth at the bar, a casual night out with the team.

You turned your head slightly, considering. “I’ll take a soda,” you said with a soft smile. 

Spencer nodded, his thumb brushing over your thigh absentmindedly before he reluctantly pulled away, pushing himself up from the booth. You could see it—the slight hesitation.

The urge to press a kiss to your temple before he left was almost unbearable. It would be so easy—too easy—to forget where you were, who was around. But he caught himself just in time, swallowing down the impulse with a tight-lipped smile instead. 

Your eyes met his knowingly, before turning back to JJ and Garcia.

Spencer made his way to the bar, his hands flexing open and closed at his sides as if chasing the phantom sensation of your warmth. He exhaled slowly.

The bar was busy, and it took a moment to catch a bartender’s attention. As he waited, his gaze flickered to the side, and that’s when he noticed her—a woman nursing an almost-empty glass, her eyes fixed on him. 

Spencer tensed, his fingers tapping against the counter.He quickly averted his gaze, directing it back toward the bar, subtly shifting his weight in discomfort.

Finally, a bartender stepped in front of him. “What can I get you?” 

Spencer blinked, clearing his throat. “Uh—two sodas, please.” 

The bartender nodded. As Spencer waited, his eyes drifted back to you. You were giggling at something JJ had said, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sight sent a warmth through his chest. He smiled softly to himself before turning his attention back to the bartender—who was now deeply engaged in a conversation with another customer. 

Spencer exhaled slowly, realizing he might be stuck here for a while. His fingers tapped lightly against the counter.

That’s when someone suddenly slid into the empty barstool beside him. He turned his head slightly, only to see the woman from earlier—the one he had accidentally made eye contact with. 

“Hi,” she greeted, flashing him a wide smile. 

“Hi?” Spencer responded, his tone more questioning than anything else. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” she remarked, taking a slow sip from her drink, her gaze lingering on him through long lashes. 

Spencer hesitated, his brain momentarily scrambling for a polite but distant response. “Uh… yeah, I don’t come here often,” he finally said, shifting uncomfortably. He glanced at the bartender again, who was now fully engrossed in his conversation and seemingly in no rush to get him the sodas. 

“You should,” the woman said, her smile widening. 

Spencer swallowed, his shoulders tensing. Social cues weren’t exactly his strong suit, but even he could pick up on this one.

The way she leaned in slightly, the way her eyes remained locked on him—it was clear she wasn’t just making small talk. 

His fingers flexed at his side, an unconscious reaction to the absence of your touch. He didn’t like this. Because the only person he wanted to be sitting next to right now was still at the booth, completely unaware of this interaction. 

Her hand drifted closer to his on the counter, fingers brushing just barely against his own. Spencer immediately pulled his hand back, hoping she’d take the hint.

But she was too drunk to register it as rejection—if anything, she barely seemed to notice. 

He exhaled through his nose, his patience thinning. His eyes flicked back toward you, hoping—praying—you’d look over so he could silently plead for an out. But you were still deep in conversation, completely unaware of his growing discomfort. 

“What's your name?” the woman asked, her voice slightly slurred, her smile lazy as she leaned in a little closer. 

Spencer hesitated, tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently. “I, uh—I’m Spencer,” he mumbled, keeping his voice polite but distant.

He didn’t return the question. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how to extract himself from the conversation without causing a scene. Direct confrontation wasn’t really his style—he much preferred logical exits.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much logic in dealing with an overly persistent drunk woman at a bar. 

Thankfully, just then, the bartender finally stopped talking and turned toward him. Spencer wasted no time making himself known. 

“Hi, excuse me,” he said. His urgency must have been apparent because the bartender immediately nodded. 

“Right, sorry about that,” he said, quickly grabbing two sodas and setting them on the counter. 

“Thanks,” Spencer muttered, relieved. He grabbed the drinks, ready to make a quick escape, but just as he turned, he felt it—her hand wrapping lightly around his own. 

His entire body tensed. His eyes shot down to where her fingers clung to his, and then slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. 

“You’re cute,” she giggled, her grip lingering. 

Spencer’s breath hitched in his throat, an overwhelming discomfort settling in his chest, as he removed his hand from her grip. He had officially had enough. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think twice. 

“Look, I’m just here to grab two sodas for me and my girlfriend,” he blurted, shifting the drinks slightly to emphasize his point. 

Spencer always felt a warmth in his chest when he said that word—girlfriend. Sometimes, he still couldn’t believe it. But right now, that feeling didn’t even have a chance to settle, because the moment the words left his mouth, a loud, dramatic gasp sounded from behind him. 

His stomach dropped. 

No… No, no, no… 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if that would somehow reverse time or make what just happened disappear. But deep down, he already knew. 

He turned around hesitantly, almost like he was afraid of what he’d see. And there she was. 

Penelope Garcia. 

Mouth open, eyes impossibly wide, practically vibrating with the weight of this newfound information. 

“Garcia, wait—no—” Spencer started, panic rising in his voice. 

But it was too late. She gasped again, spun on her heel, and bolted toward the table. 

Spencer stood frozen, still clutching the two sodas, staring after her in absolute horror. He didn’t even care that the woman at the bar had pouted and walked away—his attention was solely on the impending disaster. 

At the booth, you were mid-conversation when you suddenly heard someone shout your name. Startled, you turned, only to find Garcia standing in front of you, hands on her hips, eyes ablaze with betrayal. 

“How dare you?” she demanded. 

You blinked, glancing at JJ, who looked just as confused as you. “What—?” 

But you didn’t even get to finish the sentence. 

“How could you not tell me you are dating our boy genius?” she exclaimed, her voice full of dramatics, as if you had just personally wounded her. 

“What?” JJ blurted, her straw slipping from her lips and falling into her drink. 

“Sweetheart, repeat what you just said,” Derek said, grinning so wide, clearly enjoying every second of this. Rossi, sitting beside him, raised an intrigued eyebrow. 

And then, from behind Garcia, Spencer slowly came into view. 

He stopped a few feet away, standing awkwardly with the sodas still in his hands, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

You stared at him. 

He stared back. 

He was red. His ears, his cheeks—blushing terribly, looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor. 

“Oh. My. God,” Garcia whisper-yelled, her hands flying up to her mouth as realization fully settled in. “It’s true! Oh, my God! How long?” 

Derek was cackling. JJ still looked like she was buffering. Rossi sipped his drink, clearly entertained. 

Spencer let out a long, slow sigh.

“Well,” he muttered, avoiding everyone’s eyes, “so much for keeping it a secret.” 

Spencer carefully maneuvered around Garcia, who was still watching him like a hawk, her arms crossed as if she were about to interrogate him. He set the sodas down on the table before cautiously sliding into the booth next to you, his movements stiff with embarrassment. 

“What on earth did you say?” you hissed under your breath, leaning in slightly as the entire team erupted into overlapping chatter around you. 

“Nothing!” Spencer insisted, though his voice cracked slightly. He swallowed, shifting awkwardly. “I just… a girl was flirting with me, and I told her I already had a girlfriend. And, uh… Garcia overheard.” His voice got quieter toward the end. 

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh, though the situation was anything but funny to Spencer. 

“I cannot believe this,” JJ muttered, shaking her head in amused disbelief. She swirled her drink in her hand, blinking between the two of you as if processing new information she should have known long ago. 

You shifted in your seat, feeling increasingly self-conscious under all their stares. Garcia was practically vibrating with energy as she whispered animatedly to Derek, who was grinning ear to ear, clearly loving every second of this. Rossi, meanwhile, simply stared blankly, his expression unreadable, and JJ—well, she was definitely staring, her slightly tipsy gaze moving between you and Spencer as if still coming to terms with reality. 

You turned to Spencer, who was fixated on the glass in front of him, his fingers toying with the condensation as he tried to pretend he wasn’t still very red. 

Sighing, you nudged him gently with your knee under the table. “You know… it’s fine,” you murmured. 

Spencer looked up at you, eyes cautious. 

“Not having to hide anymore,” you clarified, your lips twitching slightly. “It sounds nice.” 

Spencer blinked at you for a second before something in his shoulders loosened. His lips parted slightly, then curved into a small, shy smile. 

“It does,” he admitted, nodding slightly, his curls bouncing with the motion. 

Without really thinking, you reached out and lightly brushed your fingers through his hair, the soft curls slipping between them. “Now I can touch you,” you teased. 

Spencer’s smile widened, his blush deepening—but this time, there was something more relaxed about it. He wasn’t panicked anymore. 

The moment was sweet. Soft. 

And then— 

“Oh my god, they're touching!”

[day-dreamed]

Sick Day

Summary: in all your days of working with Melissa Schemmenti as her aide, you've never seen her miss a day. Except today.

I had a vivid dream. This is basically just that dream with Reader instead of me.

Being a teacher's aide was not where you thought you'd end up, least of all in Philly. But here you were and honestly? You liked it.

It wasn't that she didn't like you, Barbara had always assured you. She just never let herself get too attached to someone who wasn't going to stick around.

Well, you really liked working with the teacher you were assigned to, Ms. Schemmenti. Her personality was as fiery as her hair and you knew from the second you met her that you were going to like her. You had introduced yourself with a cheerful, "Hi," and her response? She looked over you with an unimpressed gaze and immediately turned on her heels, expecting you to follow her to the classroom.

How could you not fall a little bit in love?

But you kept it professional. You did your job; you made sure the third graders were kept in line so that each grade could focus on their lessons. By the end of your second month, you earned a glare from Melissa with a begrudging, "Good job."

Fair enough.

You, on the other hand? You got attached. You liked catching the smirk she allowed herself when you told a funny if arguably dumb joke. You liked the Italian phrases she taught the class. You liked the way she muttered "Oh Madone," to herself when she was grading a particularly bad test.

Okay yes, you liked her. Working with her was the best part of your job.

So when she didn't show up, you definitely noticed.

When you finally flagged Ava down to ask what the hell was going on, the principal suddenly remembered that Melissa had called out.

"Girl sounded more hungover than I did, figured she could use the time."

"Would've been nice to know," you snarked.

Ava scoffed, shaking her head, "Girl, you sound more like her every day. Gonna start calling you Mini-lissa."

You scrunched up your nose in distaste. "Not your best."

The smile faded from Ava's face. "Admittedly an off day." She walked away, leaving you to take care of both classes.

It was an awful day. It was chaotic, unorganized, and by the end of the day, you just assigned free reading. Thankfully Melissa's passion for reading was contagious and her little eagles were grateful to just sit in silence and devour words.

Finally, the bell rang and you dismissed the class for the day. You didn't have bus duty, so you were able to get the hell out of there. You got in your car and went straight to Melissa's house.

You pulled up to the driveway and had to remind yourself to slow down, for the love of god. The woman was hungover, not dying. Though did you ever know Melissa to be hungover on a school day?

After a round of knocking, a very tired, very haggard looking Melissa answered the door. She very clearly had just woken up, and she was not happy to see you.

"Whaddya want?"

Your throat ran dry. You had come over, worried, but Melissa looked like she wanted nothing more than to kill you. "Ava said you were hungover, which I knew wasn't right, so I thought maybe you were really sick and I came over to check on you," you babbled. "So... are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Melissa held the front door open further and turned around, expecting you to follow just as always. And just as always, you did. "If I stand in the sun for any longer, I'm gonna get a migraine," she said over her shoulder as she trudged into her living room.

She flopped down on the couch, a blanket spread over it to soften the plastic.

"I'm not hungover," she said, voice muffled by the pillow she was laying on. "Just sick."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" you offered.

"Yeah, go home. Don't need you catching whatever the hell this is."

But you didn't move. You couldn't bring yourself to leave when she was laying there so pathetically. You dared to draw closer and knelt down on the floor beside her. "At least let me make you some soup or something? I'm sure you've got all the ingredients for penicillin."

Now that got her attention. Melissa rolled over onto her side to face you. "You gonna make me pastina?"

"Won't be as good as you could make it, but I'd like to. If you'd let me."

For just a moment, there was a softness in her face; someone offering to take care of her seemed to be a rarity. But then she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

Without really thinking, you reached out and pressed the back of your hand against her clammy forehead. "Because you're sick. Isn't that reason enough?"

She didn't seem to be buying it. Melissa said nothing at first, just kept her critical gaze on you. And then, "Need me back asap because you can't handle the kiddos on your own, huh?"

Maybe it was because she was vulnerable right now that you felt that you owed it to her. Or maybe it was because those sparkling eyes could make you do anything. Whatever the reason, you caved. You confessed.

"I like you, Melissa. A lot. I like working with you. I like being your aide and I like... being around you. So yeah, I want you better so you can come back to work. Because even after one day I miss you like crazy."

You sounded insane. She was going to think you're insane. But there was no going back. You dared to lean in a little closer, and to your surprise, she didn't pull away.

"I know this is really bad timing, but I'd like to kiss you right now," you admitted. That felt corny, was that corny?

Regardless, she didn't admonish you. She didn't laugh in your face and call you "kid" condescendingly. Instead, Melissa cracked a weak smile and said, "That's a very bad idea. I'm sick and I didn't brush my teeth today."

You chuckled. "I can let that slide just this once."

And you leaned in.

[day-dreamed]

masterlist!

by character a-z

aaron hotchner

emily prentiss

spencer reid

melissa schemmenti

i wanna dance with somebody

last updated 3/15

[day-dreamed]

this new severance episode is so funny because absolutely every character is fucked right now. both characters we love and characters we hate all of them are so fucked. i didn't even know a show could do that

[day-dreamed]

this shot tho..................

[day-dreamed]

milchick brought to tears when mark is just. super real with him for a second. it’s just work. it’s just life. what about balance? what has milchick sacrificed for a balance that lumon’s version of whiteness defined. your words are needlessly complex. your self is needlessly complex. it’s just work. it’s just work. it’s just work. i think he should get to hit drummond with a rock

[day-dreamed]

Stab a politician day!!!!

[day-dreamed]

guidelines!

please respect these boundaries that i would like to set!

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that’s all for right now. thanks for reading! ( ˘ ³˘)

[day-dreamed]

Lunar Eclipse, Blood Moon

[day-dreamed]

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE 1.01 ― "Steven Sees A Ghost"

[day-dreamed]

ABBOTT ELEMENTARY 4.15 – 100th Day of School

[day-dreamed]

i wanna dance with somebody

melissa schemmenti x f!reader

summary: during karaoke night with the abbott crew, tensions rise to a new height between you and the red head.

tags: s4e17, alcohol consumption, karaoke, mutual pining, pet names (hon, sweetheart), kissing, let’s pretend that the whole thing with captain robinson never happened LOL

word count: 1.3k

author’s note: thank u sm for reading! •ᴗ•

The second you walk into the bar for karaoke night, you pull Jacob and Janine aside. 

“You guys, I don’t think I can do this.” You’re panicking. It’s engulfing you, making your heart pound heavily against your ribcage. “I can’t—I have to go home.” 

They both shake their heads. “Come on, just stay!” Janine exclaims, bumping your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine. And you have to sing the song that you chose.” 

“Janine’s right. Besides, we both know you’re going to crush it,” Jacob says. 

The thought of doing that in front of not only everyone you work with, but especially Melissa Schemmenti, has you wishing that you could crawl into a hole in the ground and hide. 

“Fine,” you sigh, trying to ignore the feeling of dread settling like a weight on your shoulders. “But I’m only doing it because I love you two.” 

Janine opens her mouth to respond, but something catches her eye. When you see who she’s looking at, your stomach erupts with butterflies. It’s Melissa and Barbara. You can’t help but notice that the red head looks absolutely incredible tonight. Your eyes follow her as they walk in the other direction, like a moth to a flame.

“They’re here already, that’s great,” Janine says. The conversation takes a welcome turn and Jacob becomes the next topic of discussion, along with a guy that he has his eyes on. “Oh! Why don’t you go say hi? He’s a little cutie patootie,” she smiles.

Jacob’s face scrunches up. “Cuties are everywhere. It’s gonna take a lot more than being the cutest cutie to ever patoot to turn the head of Jacob Hill.”

“Okay,” Janine responds, her gaze turning into one of playful suspicion. “Then why is your neck in owl mode right now?”

“That’s because I’m—Because I’m checking out—”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Oh, I see. Go do your thing, Hill.”

He rolls his eyes in mock exasperation and makes his way over to the bar to escape further teasing. You turn to Janine. “Hey, I’m gonna grab a drink and then head over to see the rest of the group, wanna come with?” 

“That’s alright, I actually see Erika walking in now… with Simon?” 

“Good luck,” you say before leaving her to deal with whatever kind of mess that will be.

When you walk in after having ordered a beer, Barbara, Melissa, Jacob, and Mr. Johnson are already there. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of Mel. You aren’t sure how long your heart will be able to take being in the same room with her while she looks like that. 

They all smile when you approach them. “Hey, hon,” Mel nudges your shoulder. “You ready to get up there and sing for us?” 

“Not until I’ve had a few drinks,” you mumble, cheeks growing warm as you duck your head. 

She snorts. “You and me both.”

“So, who’s singing first?” you ask. 

“We are!” 

The group turns to look as Erika and Simon walk in, Janine following behind them. The couple goes up to the stage and puts their song on. When the singing starts, everybody cringes except for Janine, who’s dancing along in the front row.

Barbara looks exasperated. “How are they still attracted to one other after hearing each other sing? If Gerald even burps off key, I’m not looking at him for a week.” 

“Hey Mr. Johnson! All of these songs are in Korean,” Mel complains, and when you lean over her shoulder you find that she is, in fact, correct. 

“I know that! I’m BTS army,” he replies.

“What’re you gonna sing?” you ask her, shifting away from her and instantly missing the warmth she radiates. 

She grins at you, and the way her eyes sparkle makes your stomach flip. “That is a question for the me that is living three drinks in the future, sweetheart.”  

“I will get us some new drinks!” Jacob exclaims, jumping up from his seat.

You continue to cringe at Erika and Simon’s singing and laugh at the way Janine records them on her phone like she’s at the concert of a famous pop star. By the time their duet finally ends and Barbara has finished as well, your breath has started to come out in quick gasps and your palms have turned sweaty. You keep wiping them off on your jeans, but to no avail. 

“You okay?” Mel asks as she stumbles over to you. “You look a little nauseous.” 

“I…” you trail off, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “Take me out of the queue, Mel. I can’t, I—I’m too nervous.”  

“C’mon, you’ll do great! And if it makes you feel better you can keep your eyes on me the whole time, alright?”

You gulp. “Okay,” you breathe out shakily.

As you walk up to the screen, microphone in hand, you attempt to steel your nerves even though you know it’s useless. When the first notes of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)” by Whitney Houston start to play you lock eyes with Melissa, trying to use the other’s cheers as a confidence booster. By the time it’s over, it feels like everything has become muffled, like you’re experiencing everything from underwater. Your coworkers are praising your singing, but all you can focus on is the way Melissa is looking at you. The smile that she had previously worn has been wiped from her face, her eyes are filled with something you can’t decipher and her cheeks have turned red. 

A lump forms in your throat and you shake your head. “Excuse me, sorry, I—I have to go to the bathroom,” you manage to squeak out, squeezing yourself between Janine and Barbar in order to make room for an exit.

You rush through the bar and make your way to the bathroom, letting your head fall into your hands once you’ve found yourself inside an empty stall. Tears fill your eyes as you think of your stupidity. What must Mel be thinking right now? She probably hates you. The thought makes your shoulders heave with silent sobs. 

When you hear the door open, you freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Your breath catches at the sound of Melissa saying your name. She’s not slurring her words like she was ten minutes ago. No, now she sounds completely sober.

“Are you okay?” 

Those three words make you let out a watery laugh. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t sound fine to me,” she says quietly. 

“Please leave me alone, Mel,” you beg her. “I can’t do this with you. Not right now. Not like this.” 

“Do what?” 

You sigh and open the stall door, focusing your gaze on the tiled floor beneath your shoes. “I saw the way you were looking at me, after. You… God, you must hate me right now.” 

Melissa takes a step closer to you. “Kid, is that really what you think?” 

Your head snaps up. “What?” you breathe out.

“I don’t hate you,” she huffs out a laugh and shakes her head, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

This can’t be happening. You think that this must be a dream, that you’ll wake up and realize none of this was real. But the heat you feel from the press of her palm against your cheek says otherwise. 

“Mel…”

Her lips are soft when they press against yours. Your heart races at the gentle way she kisses you, taking her time and savoring the moment, as if she wants to commit it to memory. The world around you ceases to exist and it’s just the two of you. It feels like you were meant to be in each other’s arms, the way puzzle pieces are meant to fit together. You’re both panting when she pulls away and leans her forehead against yours. 

“Wow,” you mumble. It’s all you can think to say. 

Mel chuckles, a twinkle in her eyes. “That good, huh?” You groan, your face feeling like it’s on fire. “Hey, I’m only teasing, hon. Whaddaya say we head back out there? Maybe we could duet Poker Face,” she grins.

“Melissa!”

[day-dreamed]

about me!

vi 25 she/her

reading: yellowface by rf kuang

watching: abbott elementary s4, severance s2, the good place s2

listening to: lizzy mcalpine, chappell roan, ashe, noah kahan, the lumineers, bob dylan, gregory alan isakov, role model

hobbies: reading, writing, journaling, walking, working out, piano, guitar, singing, listening to music, watching movies/shows

likes: rainy days, sleeping in, cozy sweaters, autumn, spring, chai lattes, tea, pink, green, blue

my inbox is always open if you ever want to chat! i love making new friends (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[day-dreamed]

welcome to day-dreamed!

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last updated 3/16