A/N: Okay, I gave you all an awkward Spencer. Now I give less awkward older Spence cuz I love both, and the music I’m listening to right now is just screaming confidence lmao. I also apologise if the writing is funky I tried to edit which I do not do but I’m trying to get better at it lmao ENJOY
SUMMARY : You keep getting Spencer Reid’s Mail, and based on the content of his magazine subscriptions, you wouldn’t be surprised if he murdered you one day. It was strange; you found him quite intriguing, but without context for his odd taste in reading materials, you decided it was probably best to just stay clear and ignore him. But when you order something, it ends up in Reid’s mailbox. You’ll do everything in your power to get it back because you will not survive the embarrassment if he opens that package.so you do what any sane person would…. Break into his apartment.
TAGS: breaking and entering, the universe has it out for reader , hot older Spencer you’re welcome, reader buys a sex toy … that’s it lmao.
The cryptic man living in the apartment next to yours was either a true crime enthusiast or a serial killer in the making. Even though you’d only caught glimpses of him over the years, you sure knew a lot more than you should or wanted to about your neighbour and his interests. The sheer volume of magazines featuring killers, cults and serial rapists that were mistakenly slid through your mail shoot was somewhat concerning at best. You could understand a few subscriptions, as you were a bit of a true crime fiend yourself. Still, the number of subscriptions was far too alarming for anyone to claim sanity.
This was a shame because, despite your caution and best efforts, you often found the idea of a true crime-loving brainiac stuck in your mind, even if he seemed to survive on an unhealthy amount of takeout judging by the copious amount of menus shoved under his door.
Aside from the few gruesome crime magazines, you’d also discovered a fair share of thrillers and classical books catalogues, alongside subscriptions relating to chess and some annoyingly advanced puzzles that always left your brain feeling fried after attempting to solve them. Your curiosity about him grew with each missent letter and subscription, pulling you in despite the logical warning to keep your distance and avoid him at all costs, just in case he was a creepy serial killer fanboy.
Yet you couldn’t even catch him in time to give him his mail back, let alone try to converse in a conversation, so you settled on avoiding him at all costs.
Instead of handing his mail to him like a normal, sane person would, you resorted to shoving all his mail through his door as best you could, along with a note urging him to do something about how much of it you were getting. Despite your best efforts to prevent his mail from becoming a tripping hazard in your apartment, here you were once again standing in front of his apartment door sporting a freshly applied face mask, fuzzy hot pink PJs, and a copy of Serial Killer Weekly in your hand. All you wanted was to get back to the comfort of your couch, but it seemed like fate had other plans.
Forcibly, you jam the magazine into its owner’s mail slot, grimacing as you watch the once-smooth edges start to wrinkle in retaliation. “Seriously, why do they make these things so goddamn small” Your frustrated remarks were interrupted by the sound of keys jingling, followed by footsteps echoing down the hall. “Shoot”, giving up and abandoning the magazine, you book it to your apartment, slamming the door behind yourself just as someone turns the corner. Catching your breath, you rest your back against the door, allowing the sudden burst of adrenaline a second to cool its jets before making your way back to the comfy little blanket-like nest you had been lounging around on all evening. The tea you had previously abandoned was now lukewarm, not ideal, but there was no way in hell you would waste a cup of tea. Bringing the mug up to your lips, you stretch yourself across the couch to where you had thrown your laptop, careful not to spill your drink whilst pulling it back onto your lap as you settle in to resume your nightly internet deep drive.
Did you have a slight online shopping addiction? Yes, yes, you did. It wasn’t unusual for you to shift from reading some odd article describing the history of how pillows were made to one of your bookmarked shopping sites. The one thing you loved about the internet is the abundance of useless random Shit you can buy, and boy, did you love useless random Shit. You knew you should be spending your money on something that you actually needed instead of cute little magnets of animated cats. Still, you were only human, highly irresponsible with money, but human nonetheless. A few minutes quickly turned to hours as you added things to your cart, justifying to yourself their importance and why they were an investment in your happiness. Any thought you had of your neighbour melted away as you got sucked back into the World Wide Web.
An all too familiar irritating burn scratched at your eyes, screaming at you to put the laptop away and go to sleep before you burnt a massive hole through your savings. Just as you were about to give in to the little nagging voice in your head, a scandalous ad floated its way across your screen, perking your interest. It was no secret that your sex life sucked majorly, and you weren’t usually the type to buy risky items. The only things you did own were stupid gag gifts hidden away in your closet that your friends had brought as a joke. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at them, let alone use them; it was as if they were mocking you for not being able to get any.
Maybe you deserved to buy one last thing before calling it a night; you just won’t look at your bank account in the morning and regret your life choices. As sleep starts to catch up, you quickly enter the billing address, not bothering to double-check it, before closing the laptop and making your way to your room.
Weeks had passed since that night; honestly, you had forgotten all about the order until you were interrupted mid-shower, screaming some trashy song with a notification from the postal company. Your package was arriving in the afternoon, so, like any normal person, you put all plans for the day on hold as you waited anxiously, sitting on your couch by the door. There was no way in hell you were going to risk your neighbours seeing the promiscuous packaging; the little old lady living right next door, who you just adored, thought you were such a sweet girl and could do no wrong you’d be damned if you ruined that image for her.
The urge to pee suddenly appeared as you and the door were in the middle of a weird yet intense staring match, you tried focusing all your attention solely on the door . And yet, the bursting need to pee was starting to strain. After pushing yourself to keep it in just a bit longer, you caved. It was only going to take a minute; surely, they wouldn’t drop it off whilst you were doing your business. Snapping away from the door, you push yourself off the couch and bolt towards the toilet, trying to make it in time, not really wanting to pee yourself today or any other day for that matter.
Just as you sit down, your phone lights up, alerting you that your package has arrived and has been dropped off, “Shit, of course, just my luck; here’s to praying Mrs Paddington stays inside. “grumbling whilst you finish up as quickly as possible, you stumble your way out of the bathroom rushing to the door still trying to pull your pants back up. Hastily, Swinging the door open only to reveal absolutely nothing, no package, not even the mailman walking up the hall to hand it over, just an empty hallway. Raising your brow in Confusion, you pull out your phone to double check, yep definitely says it was dropped off ... that’s when you saw it, fear shot its way through your body as you looked up at the address you had put down weeks prior, how you made such a stupid small mistake was beyond you, but fuck did you hate yourself right now.
“Please, god, no, please don’t be doing this to me right now,” you pleaded while clinging to some delusion of hope. You walked over to the little mail slot that belonged to the door just in front of yours.
Bending down, you push it open as far as it would allow; your eye hovered over the tiny opening as you peeked inside, praying to some god that it wasn’t in his apartment. But seeing as your luck was just so amazing right now, there it was, sitting right there on the other side of what you’d assume was a locked door, which, of course, belonged to the one and only neighbour that you swore to yourself you’d avoid like the black plague.
Now you were truly, royally fucked.
All you wanted to do was lay down and die, bury yourself in the ground and never come back. How in the hell did you end up in this situation? To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Never in your life have you fucked up this badly, and you fuck up frequently. Yet, here you were, banging your head on his door, wanting nothing but to simply disappear and not have to deal with the explanation of why your newly brought vibrator was sitting in his apartment.
As you sat there, forehead pressed against the hard wooden door, ready to admit defeat, a thought crossed your mind.
Who said he needed to ever know about the package?
Was breaking into his apartment one of your brightest ideas? No, probably not, but it was the only one you could come with. No way were you going to just leave it there for him to discover and have whatever dignity you had left destroyed by embarrassment.
Rushing into your apartment for a split second, you grab a trusty bobby pin from the bathroom and make your way back to his apartment, ready to put all the knowledge from the late-night crime shows you’ve binged to good use; it didn’t matter that you’ve never picked a lock before, how hard could it be.
Focusing all your attention on the lock, you shoved the pin in and jiggled it around, hoping something would click into the right place and do something.
Just as you were about to give up and resort to just kicking the door down out of frustration, you heard the clicking noise of the door unlocking. Your face lit up with pride; of course, you never doubted your skills for a second, okay, maybe just a little, but that wasn’t something you were about to focus on right now. Your victory was short-lived as you remembered your little mission. Carefully, you pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment, taking in your surroundings as you did so.
It looked like a library that had exploded everywhere. There were books and files scattered around in a somewhat organised way. Oddly enough, despite the chaos of every surface being covered with reading material, the space was immaculately clean. Confused: You walked past your package towards the cluttered dining room table. You ran your finger across the wooden surface, expecting there to be some dust residue. Yet, despite the house looking abandoned, there wasn’t a spec of dirt anywhere. “What an odd dude. “As hard as it was, you ignored your curiosity, not really wanting to risk being caught snooping through his things.
As you make your way back to your package, you let out a sigh of relief as you pick it up, holding it close to your chest. “Crisis avoided, thank god” Just as you were about to make your way out of the apartment to the safety of your own home, your body was roughly slammed into the table you were inspecting a second ago. Its edges dug uncomfortably into your stomach; your cheek was pressed against the loose sheets of paper as your assailant held you down in place. One hand was wrapped around your wrists, holding them in place behind your back, and the other had a firm grip on the back of your head. The colour quickly drained from your face as a bolt of panic hit your core. “What are you doing in my apartment?” a low, assertive voice grumbled against your back; a shiver ran down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin; suddenly, all the jokes about your neighbour killing you didn’t seem to feel that funny anymore.
“i-I promise there is a perfect explanation for this”, your voice betrayed you as it trembled pathetically, throwing away any image of composure out the window.
“You broke into my apartment? I’m not quite sure if there’s a good explanation for that; you realise you can get up to 10 years in jail for breaking and entering, right. “
Oh shit, you didn’t think about that.
“Seriously, I wasn’t stealing anything; there were no ill intentions. I didn’t even realise you were here. That’s why I broke in the first place” The words were spilling out, and there was no way you were going to be able to stop them. “That sounded bad, didn’t it? “
“Very. “The sound of his feet shuffling around on the wooden floorboards gave you a sickening uneasiness deep in your stomach. “Didn’t look like that to me; what’s this then “his grip loosened as he bent down to where you had dropped the package. There was not a sound coming from you, no pleading or begging. You just stayed there still and silent, knowing there was no point in stopping him now.
There was no need for you to see his face; the image of a shocked expression that your mind conjured up was enough to cause an embarrassing heat in your cheeks. The eerie silence that filled the room definitely didn’t help calm your racing thoughts. Before it could get any more awkward between the two of you, the once-restricting grip holding you securely in place loosened completely, leaving you free to push yourself off the table.
Your eyes danced around the room, making sure to avoid the apologetic look you felt coming from the man in front of you. Not wanting to subject yourself to this torture a second longer, you somehow mustered up the tinniest bit of courage and pushed your way past him, grabbing the box in the process and trying to save what little respectability you had left. Thankfully, there were no protests made as you barged out of the apartment; neither one of you dared to utter a word as he watched you escape back to the safety of your own apartment.
Aggressively, you tossed the scandalous box onto the couch, along with yourself. A loud groan left your body as it made contact with the softer surface. You could already hear your brain overworking itself as it replayed the scene over and over again, disregarding your displeasure. You could feel your stomach starting to churn with each thought, and the urge to puke was becoming more violent.
You knew there was no way in hell you were ever using it now; the feeling of embarrassment was glued to it now, and to be frank, you’d rather drown in a puddle of your own puke than think about today ever, EVER again.
Before you could spiral any further and trap yourself in an overthinking season, a faint knock came from the door, and your head snapped upwards as another knock followed. Not wanting to be rude, you hesitantly got up from your position on the couch, dragging your feet to the door and cautiously opening it, only to be greeted by the last person you wanted to see right now. “May I help you?”
“Hi, umm, I just wanted to apologise for earlier. I didn’t mean to embarrass you; I thought you were an intruder stealing my mail.”
“Technically, it’s my mail I was stealing, and the breaking in... yeah, I don’t have an excuse for that one.”
“Okay, well again, sorry for, well, everything that went down” The room fell uncomfortably silent; neither of you really knew how to shift the conversation; thankfully, you didn’t have to be the one that broke the silence. “guess I’ll get going then I just wanted to clear the air “sporting a slight smile he turns, retreating to his apartment but before he could reach his door you call out.
“Actually! Can you wait up? I have some of your mail” The chaos from today completely scrambled your brain; you had initially planned to take his mail with you as you technically broke into his apartment, but of course, the panic of him finding your package fucked with your ability to think. Stopping in his tracks, your neighbour gave you a rightly so confused look as he moved back into the apartment to hear you out. “You know you really need to talk to the mailman. I swear if I have to see another crime scene or a creepy middle-aged man’s mug shot, I might lose it. “The slightly crooked smile he responded with had you choking on air; before you make more of a fool of yourself, you turn quickly to sort through the pile of mail on the table, hoping to come across this morning’s additions. “I know, I know “, he sighed deeply as he moved closer, joining you in the search. “I just can never find the chance; I barely get any free time to relax as is” Before you can stop yourself, you regretfully let your filter slip. “Ah, does killing people take up all your time? I suggest retirement” Truly, you were shocked with yourself today; what kind of witch did you piss off to be cursed with suck shitty luck. Just as you had the apology on the way, you were interrupted with a chuckle. “Bold of you to say to someone you think to be a killer,” he smirked down at you, his brow slightly raised, questioning your judgement. “Well shit” As subtly as you could manage, you shuffled around the table, trying to put some distance between the two of you, glancing at him as you go.
The panic started to hit you as your mind began doing summersaults, quickly jumping to conclusions.
“I’m guessing I’m on the list now, huh?” A heavy chuckle filled the room, leaving you dumbfounded. Is he that crazy? He must have caught onto your discomfort and calmed down quickly to shut down your irrational thinking. “Sorry, sorry, no. I actually arrest killers for a living” As if you needed more proof, he pulls out a badge from his wallet and places it on the table. “I can kind of see how those magazines made you think otherwise” thank god you had never felt so relieved in your life, not today, death, not today. Looking down at the badge, your smile slightly fades. FBI… he’s with the FBI… YOU BROKE INTO THE HOUSE OF AN FBI AGENT. “Did I apologise for breaking in? Cuz I’m very, very sorry. “
“Don't stress, I’m not going to arrest you or anything; I get it, just maybe next time, knock?” you giggle as you walk over to him with his mail in hand “, “passing him the mail, your fingers graze against his sending a slight shiver down your spine.
“Thanks,” he says, you nod.
“Thanks for not murdering me” he smiles down at you before backing away towards the door, but just as he goes to leave, he turns back. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, neighbour “he waves goodbye as he shuts your door; once you can no longer hear footsteps, you finally let yourself breathe again.
“Well … least he’s hot,” you shrug off the events of today, turn, and make eye contact with the package in the corner of the room that started it all. “… I did spend money on it, and I’m not one to waste money” There was a long, silent pause as you debated it. “Nah, I shouldn’t. “Shaking your head, you grabbed the remote off the table and walked over to the couch, trying to make yourself comfortable whilst switching on your detective show. Honestly, you really were going to forget all about the toy. Still, once a curly, brown-haired character appeared on the screen that you refused to admit looked way too much like your (hot) neighbour, the urge took over, and before you knew it, you were grabbing the box and shutting your door, hoping you could keep it your little, shameful secret. I mean, doesn’t everyone think about their neighbour whilst they get off
can we all agree not to be weird when Nico Di’Angelo’s actor gets announced? if the show stays true to the books, the actor could be under ten years old, a literal baby, so let’s collectively take a deep breath and remember the actors are real people and the characters are completely fictional. we already failed when Annabeth’s actor was announced
Jason should have come back to the manor post-lazarus pit and revealed himself as Jason Todd but not told the rest of the family that he’s also Red Hood. can you imagine how fucking funny that would be.
Nightwing: honestly! my family is fucking INSANE! i swear the only good one is my little brother, he died and came back and decided to ditch the vigilante life.
Red Hood: oh shit really?
Nightwing: honestly probably the smartest one out of all of us, he’s reading in bed while we’re all out here on stakeouts!
Red Hood: interesting. tell me more about how this brother is the best of all of you.
~
Red Hood: so what are you guys getting the smart handsome not-vigilante brother for Christmas?
Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin:
~
Batman: now i need all of you to have an equal share in the clean up-
Red Hood: yeah sorry, you aren’t MY dad, so i’m gonna dip. have fun cleaning!
the funniest part is when Dick and Tim decide that since Red Hood and Jason are so similar and Red Hood CLEARLY seems to like what he hears about Jason, that they should try to set the two up.
Jason, calling Roy at 4am: i need you in Gotham within the next hour so you can dress up as Red Hood and we can pretend that I’m sleeping with myself.
Roy:
Roy: i’m gonna get caught sneaking out of your bedroom with lipstick on your helmet
Jason: this is gonna be the funniest thing we’ve ever done.
Omg, imagine Roy, dressed as Red Hood at the dinner table having breakfast, (Watching Jason have breakfast) instead of just ditching in the middle of the night??
The gear is covered in lipstick and Jason has some smeared around his face to make it extra convincing
Dick:
Jason:
Roy as Red Hood:
Dick: So-, when'd you start wearing makeup?
Jason: You never noticed I wore makeup? *Has never worn makeup a day in his life but bit be damned he's gonna start now.*
Dick: *Panicking because he didn't notice his little brother wore makeup
Dick:
Dick: *voice cracking* Try a darker red-
Roy: *Trying not to laugh at Dick* He normally wears a black or a dark red, His to go to is that black cherry from Dior
The following days is just Jason buying cosmetics and learning how to use it, He gets really good at it as well.
This is just another shitpost, a copy and paste from what I spammed my friend at like 5pm- ish
Jason or Red-Hood who's known for having 'information from the dead/graves' but his boyfriend is Danny 'phantom' Fenton and will just yap to his boyfriend over ghost gossip and not even realize that he's sharing new/unheard of information to Jason over crimes and other things happening around Gotham or in crime alley
People gossip but the dead talk, and Danny is all too happy to have someone to listen to all the ghost drama with him that the man will yap to Jason for hours. (Jason has timed it before, it got to hour 5 before he called it a day)
No one can figure out how why or when Jason started becoming two or three steps ahead of every villain/gang/goon/whatever, calling 'anonymous' tips into the batfam/police/whoever tf, days or even weeks before anything happened.
Jason who somehow ends up scaring the shit out of the bad guys because they 'changed their plans three times already to lose Red-hood' but yet, somehow, he's waiting for them by the time they arrive to where ever they were meeting up to do their illegal business with a coffee in hand and the police already called and arriving in 5 minutes.
I just woke up and somehow the only thought in my head was Jason Todd as an Etsy witch but he only sells ‘violent spells’ and instead of doing spell work he just personally goes out and beats the shit out of whoever you choose
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. THIS IS SO NASTY. WHAT IS THIS STRANGELY SHAPED, HI RES FUCKED UP PIECE OF SHIT. SOMEONE EXPLAIN TO ME THIS DISGUSTING MASS OF WHAT THE FUCK EVER THIS EVEN IS. WHY DO THINGS EXIST LIKE THIS. WHAT THE HELL DO I TAG THIS NASTY THING. WHAT IS THIS. WHAT IS THIS
jacobvanloon
