manilla file folder

Drabble Prompt #43

Author: criminalized-writing

Word count: 961

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning: Torture, abuse, drugs, and language

Summary: (Y/N) is kidnapped by an unsub.

A/N: Written using Drabble Prompt #43. The prompt was “She’s been missing since Friday and you’re not worried?!”

     (Y/N). She was all Reid could think about. To say he was worried about her would be an understatement. He was terrified for her safety and well-being. He should have been there to protect her. He should have been right next to her, but he wasn’t and he hated himself for it. He  told her to be extra cautious on this case. The unsub’s victims looked strikingly similar to (Y/N). Same (e/c) eyes, same (h/c) hair. Like (Y/N) had said, it was like she was looking in a mirror. Reid knew what this man did to his victims, and time was running out.

     Reid hadn’t slept since (Y/N)’s abduction. He spent the nights following with files and photos scattered over his bed at the hotel, attempting to discover something, anything, that would bring (Y/N) home. The unsub kept his victims for seven says. (Y/N) had already been missing for four.

       The young genius entered the police station in a haste. He wouldn’t stop until they found (Y/N). The team was already gathered. They looked like they had at least gotten some sleep. Reid, however, did not.

     “How ya holdin’ up genius?” Morgan asked, face stuffed in a manilla file folder. Reid grunted in response and stared at the map. (Y/N) was out there somewhere, and he was going to find her.

     (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness of the room. The entire room was white, seeming as though it stretched for miles. Dried blood clung to her skin. Her hands were bound behind her back with rope, as they had been the past few days. Her legs were weak. Each time she stood up, her knees would buckle and she would fall to the floor. There were cuts and gashes along her skin, which were most likely infected by now from lack of medical care.

     The door opened and closed swiftly. A white male in his late 20s walked toward her, wielding a leather belt. He lightly slapped it in his other hand, taunting her. He struck her with it, hard. Her skin writhed in in pain as she cried out in pain, the sound of leather hitting flesh rippled through the room. He kept striking her until she was screaming, begging for him to stop.

     “Please!” She pleaded desperately. “I’ll do whatever you want! Just stop.” He leaned down to her level, taking her face in his hands.

     “Listen here you little whore,” he spat. His voice sent shivers down her spine. It was harsh and cold. Terrifying. “All you’re going to do, is sit here and take it.” He slapped her cheek, leaving behind a red handprint. He puller a glass vial and needle from his pocket. She didn’t realize what was happening until she felt a small prick in her forearmsl. He smirked down at her and turned to walk out.

     “Why are you doing this?” (Y/N) struggled to keep her voice from faltering. His facial expression turned to one of rage. He yelled at her incoherently through gritted teeth and kicked her repeatedly in the abdomen.

     “I suggest you shut your big fuckin’ mouth.” He walked out of the room, slamming the door in a fit of rage behind him. She could hear the tumblers turning as he locked it. (Y/N) screamed. Her limbs felt heavy. She screamed for help. She knew the team would find her before it was too late.

     “She’s been missing since Friday and you’re not worried?!” Reid threw his hands up in frustration with the team. This was getting ridiculous.

     “Reid, (Y/N)’s strong. She’ll get through this just fine.” Hitch reassured.

     “How can you possibly know that?!”

     “We dont, kid. We’re aware of the fact that it’s been four days, but we just gotta be hopeful.” Morgan explained, but Reid couldn’t bare to listen.

     “It’s all my fault this happened. We never should have split up.”

     “Spence, you can’t blame yourself for what happened.” JJ placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

     “I can’t not blame myself.”

     “Blaming yourself is only gonna make you feel worse and that’s not gonna help us find her.” The phone rang.

     “Go ahead Garcia.” Hitch instructed.

     “I found something.”

     (Y/N)’s soft cries for help went unheard. She was beginning to lose hope of being found alive. She couldn’t imagine the team finding her body. None of them deserved that. Somewhere, she heard a loud crash and the familiar shout of ‘FBI.’

     “Help! Please!” (Y/N) yelled at the top of her lungs, her breathing becoming erratic. “I’m in here!” She tugged at the bindings around her wrists to free herself. It burned as they rubbed against the already raw flesh. She sat up and screamed louder until she could hear talking from behind the door. Said barrier was broken down moments later. Members of SWAT filed in, quickly followed by JJ and Reid. Reid was the first one to drop his weapon and be at (Y/N)’s side. He unbound her confined wrists, tossing the restraints aside and gathered her in his arms. (Y/N) clung to the material of his bullet-proof vest, her nails digging into the padding.

     “I thought I’d never see you again.” Reid confessed into her hair, voice wavering slightly.

     “I missed you.” Tears flowed down her cheeks as her body shook. She tried to be strong, to not let her walls come crumbling to the ground, to hide her emotions. She could hear the recalcitrant yelling of her abuser coming down the hall. Morgan led him down the corridor through his kicking and screaming.

     “He can’t hurt you anymore.” Reid reassured.

     “I know.” She responded. “I know.”

Terrible Things (Part 2)

Imagine Dean trying to impress you by taking you out on a case, while trying to maintain his cover by pretending to be a private investigator.

Author: hogwartsismyhometoo

Requested By: 13sjacobs

Word Count: 4,195

Read Part One


I didn’t know what one normally wore on a PI case/date/outing with total stranger, but I figured I should wear something nice. At least something that wasn’t stained with tomato soup.

After some primping and much scowling in the mirror, I took a few seconds to take deep breaths and relax. It was going to be fine. I was going to be fine, he was going to be fine, everything was going to be fine.

I had just enough time to panic about the fact that I was going on a maybe date with a man I’d barely met along with his tall and strong-looking brother on a possible murder case. No big deal. But as I was starting to hyperventilate, I heard the rumble of an old engine crescendo up my street.

I dashed over to the full-length mirror and my bedroom and took one last glance at my reflection. The dress I’d chosen—a cute but casual purple summer dress with a floral print and matching cardigan—was smoothed out, the black leggings I wore with it had no holes in them, and my makeup hadn’t smudged anywhere. I pulled on a pair of flats, grabbed my purse, and flung the front door open.

I let out a little, “Oh!” of surprise as almost collided with Dean, his fist poised in a knocking position. He blinked at me, the only part of him that moved. He didn’t seem to know what to do or say now that I’d opened the door.

Keep reading

Steve x Reader

Originally posted by buddyineedyou

A/N: I have a prompt list up! Please send some requests. Requested by an anon :)

Taggies: @shtybabutt @rachaelproductions

Pairings: Steve x Reader

Prompt: “Do you want to tell me what really happened?”

Warnings: None

Word Count: 595


Having the munchies isn’t the worst, but usually, when you have the munchies and want to hide from the human race, it’s probably not the best to be in the kitchen. And that’s where Steve found you. Shoving spoon after spoon of ice cream in your mouth. The most recent mission was tiring and your back still ached from landing on the edge of a building. You felt like a grandma when you picked yourself up and the pain shot up your back and sides. At least the pain was keeping you grounded to reality.

A manilla file folder was tossed and you heard the small slap it made on the table. As it landed, you saw it slide towards you. Looking up from your bowl, you tilt your head, glancing at the folder.

“What is it?” You ask, looking up at him after picking it up.

“I was hoping you would tell me.” His blue eyes observed you from afar. He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

“I don’t know, you’re the one that handed it to me.” You shrugged and flipped it open.

“I know what it is but I want you to tell me.”

“A mission report?” Is all you could think of.

“Yes,” He said. “Now read it. All the way to the end. After, read out loud the part that doesn’t seem right.”

You took a few moments to read it to yourself. You read it again. And then one more time for good measure.

“Uh, Fury took his eyepatch off to threaten someone?”

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice had a warning in it. He took a seat across from you as you put another spoon of ice cream in your mouth.

“Steve, I’m not stupid. I know that after missions, everything has to be reported so why don’t you just get on with yelling at me like I’m a child.”

“I never said you were a child.”

“You always act like I’m one! I can handle myself without anyone always breathing down my neck.” You cried out incredulously.

“In the report, It says you physically assaulted Fury.” Steve changed the subject. “Do you want to tell me what really happened?”

“Okay,” You nodded. “So I might have punched Fury in the face.” There was a few moments of silence. “And got suspended for a few days.” Another few beats of silence passed by. “And also may or may not have called him a major dick bastard.”

He sighed and put a hand to his forehead, rubbing small circles into his temple.


“He told me to stay back! I wasn’t going to watch my team die! Then, on the way back, he was giving me shit about my performance out on the field. So punch to the mouth it was. And the verbal insult.”

“Promise not to punch anyone -and I mean anyone, no matter how much they piss you off- again?”

“Okay.” You brushed it over your shoulder.

“That wasn’t really convincing or confirmation.” Steve stated suspiciously.

You just smiled and tilted you head, getting up. You hummed as you walked out of the room with a skip in your step. You had to find a certain billionaire who filled your guns -that you had to use in the recent mission- with the string and the cork at the end, so when you pull the trigger, the only thing that happened was the loud popping of the cork.

“Y/N?” You heard Steve ask.

“Y/N!” He shouted.

You’re target was Tony’s face. And you were definitely using your fists.