#fbi!sam

My wonderful anon!! 💕💕 I L O V E this idea so fucking much!!

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Sam's supervisor was reluctant to let him go undercover at first. They were only three months in and already he'd had to pull Sam aside for a lecture. Sternly reminding him not to take the case too personally and pointing out that Sam was walking a fine line between dedication and obsession.

But Sam had stood his ground. Pointed out that if roles were reversed, his boss would be just as "obsessed" if not more than Sam. Especially knowing that this monster was out there, bloodthirsty and cruel, slicing open the throats of innocent young men who looked just like him.

He was right, of course, no matter how much his supervisor wanted to deny it. And that was exactly how Sam had ended up in some backwoods bar off the beaten path near Saint Martin's Parish, Louisiana.

He'd started there because the local police had pulled two bodies out of the swamp earlier that week. Both long haired, young male victims with their throats slashed.

Autopsies revealed that the two had been murdered just days apart, so in the collective mind of the task force, it stood to reason that the killer was still close by.

Working with that, and the very small amount of information he already had about the unsub, Sam quickly decided that checking out all the seedy bars within driving distance of the killer's dump site made the most sense. Especially given the fact that the deceased were both carefree college students who, according to friends and family, liked to drink away their stress after finals.

And Sam had a gut feeling about this particular bar, Benny's. It was isolated, lowkey. Easy for a ruthless predator like Sam's killer to stalk and catch his prey without raising too much suspicion.

"What'll it be, honey?"

The bartender gives Sam a flirty smile when he walks up and Sam immediately slides into character, ordering a shot of whiskey with a toothy grin of his own.

"Comin' right up, dimples."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

With one last heated glance, the bartender turns to get his drink and Sam settles down on one of a worn stools. Curious eyes giving the smoky room a quick scan through the long rectanglar mirror hanging widthwise over the bar.

There wasn't much of a crowd, despite the fact that it was a warm Saturday night, but Sam could tell there were still a few regulars scattered about. Like the dude with the long grey beard in the corner playing dart with some pretty young thing that clearly had her fair share of daddy issues. And the bleach blonde soccer mom sipping her cheap wine, pretending that the ring on her finger wasn't equivalent to a ball and chain.

But unfortunately, and much to Sam's disappointment, none of them fit the profile. Young, attractive, a smooth talker. Strong enough to overpower his victims but seemly harmless enough to lure them in without a struggle.

Fuck, maybe this was just another dead end? It was like Sam was playing the most frustrating game of tag. One where he couldn't even see his opponent, let along get close enough to touch.

"Hey, dimples."

Sam jumps a little, shaken from his hopeless thoughts when he hears a soft voice trying to get his attention. Tired eyes soon focused again on the gorgeous redhead behind the bar with that million dollar smile and those mile long legs.

It's only then that Sam becomes painfully aware of the fact that he'd been neglecting his drink. Too preoccupied with the bar's patrons to play his role as a lonely college kid looking for some company. "Yes ma'am?" Sam clears his throat and gives the girl another quick smile, absentmindedly running his fingertips along the edge of the shot glass in front of him, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"This is for you," the bartender says with a hint of amusement in her tone that makes Sam tilt his head to the side a little. The young detective watching intently as she opened a beer and slid it over to him with ease. "I think you have an admirer."

"Who-"

The words die in Sam's throat when the girl hands him a small white paper napkin. He licks his lips and looks up at her questioningly, but she just shoots him a sly wink before walking away without another word.

"What the Hell?"

There's sweat rolling down the side of Sam's face now, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that it was drowning out the old, hillbilly country song currently playing on the jukebox.

The open beer in front of him was Sam's favorite brand and just seeing the label, dark red with glossy beads of condensation slowly rolling down it, made his stomach turn. God, he hadn't drank this shit since he was actually in college. How the fuck did this guy know? Only Brady and Jess would remember such a small detail like this, well and maybe...

Sam's blood turns to ice in his veins as the pieces of the puzzle snapped right into place. His hand visibly trembling when lifts up the napkin to examine it closer, toes curling against the insole of his boots when he notices that there's something small written across the paper in jet black ink.

"You're it, little brother."

Holy shit. Dean had played him.

All this time Sam thought he'd been the one in pursuit. God, had he been so wrong.

Now Sam was just where his brother wanted him. Alone and vulnerable. With a broken heart that ached for it's long lost other half. Desperate to be whole again.

And Sam knew right then and there, that if either of them made it out if this alive, it would be a God damn miracle.

Hi there, sunflower anon!

Sam and Dean Winchester. No relation.

The best team in the country, hundreds of cases under their belts. Kidnappings, murders, bombings. They could handle anything.

But the one that got away, the so-called “Angel of Death,” had always eluded them.

Dean’s family had been killed by the Angel of Death when she was 11. The killer had left her alive.

Sam’s parents were murdered by the Angel of Death when she was 7. Her infant brother had never been found.

Pairing: (past)FBI!SamxReader, FBI!Dean, (ofc)Caroline, (omc)Steven Harding

Summary: A blast from your past drops into your life. Will things still feel the same?

Word Count: 938

Warnings: a little language, flirting, talk of the past

A/n: This was a request from @samwinchesterfanfic. I hope you enjoy sweetie

Prompt:  Imagine seeing your childhood love, Sam, after 10 years...

Masterlist

 You perched at the edge of your seat as you scrolled through the appointments on the screen. Your boss was currently in the middle of a meeting and you knew you had a minute to yourself. The cup of coffee you brought to your lips was luke warm but you dreaded heading back to the kitchen to get a fresh cup. You swiveled slowly to your left and marked on the date book for your doctor’s appointment next week, a little reminder to head out early.

 The front doors opened and closed and you heard Caroline’s sickeningly, sweet voice carry through the lobby. You rolled your eyes as you heard her put on her extra flirty voice and let out a high pitched giggle. Must be some cute hot shot then. She only ever did that when there was something nice to look at. You smiled to yourself as she was struck down, immediately changing the tone of her voice.

 “Yes, of course, just around the corner there. His assistant can help you.”

 Great, now you had to handle the hot shot. You adjusted yourself in your seat and looked up just as two men walked around the corner. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized who had just walked through the doors.