#sam x daniel

[sssssssim]

s01e15 - Singularity (aka the first episode with Cassandra)

[riverageleis]

I need fic recs. Can you help me get inspired and excited about my fandoms again?

[stardustbarbarians]

Kneel Down Ye Sinners

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Summary: Daniel has a bad round of golf... and Sam is bored.

Tags: spanking, oral, unprotected sex, literally just smut idk what else to say... so MDNI!

Words: 2.3 k

A/N: This has been written in my drafts for over a year and I just got around to polishing it up. Anyway, as usual, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel because when is it not. (Also pspspspspsps @runwayblues) Title taken from Wild Side by Motley Crue (I swear I don't listen to them that much). Anyway, and as always, enjoy!!

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"God, that was awful!" Daniel yelled as he stormed into the house, throwing his baseball hat into the wall and kicking off his slides. They made a subdued smack as they landed onto the floor near the entrance. 

"How was golf?" Sam called out for his spot in the living room, flipping through channels mindlessly. He was bored out of his skull, having already finished all the chores he wanted to do this weekend and really not all in the mood to play any of his instruments. 

"I shot in the 90s! I haven't gotten a score like that since high school!!" The golfer raged, now pacing in front of the couch Sam was on. He had to admit, Daniel was hot when he was mad. He'd get this set in his jaw that defined it more and this look in his eyes that reminded Sam of all the times he was pinned underneath Daniel. 

Oh, thought Sam, now there’s an idea 

"Oh, baby, that's rough," Sam patronized, his voice dripping in manufactured sympathy. He threw the remote down, not needing the tv anymore. His entertainment had arrived.

Though, he felt his heart skip a beat when that rage fueled gaze was cast onto him. His skin began to prickle with goosebumps as Daniel stopped in his tracks, one of Danny's eyebrows cocking up. He felt his blood simultaneously freeze and boil beneath his skin at that look. 

"You think you can do better, Samuel?" His tone was even and dangerous, a low grumble in his chest. 

Sam had to suppress a shiver at the words. He was diving head-first into the deep end and he knew the risks. 

"No… but you should've" Sam retorted, his bratty streak always strong. He knew he was in trouble the moment Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles very visible under the pliant fabric of his golf shirt. 

"You've got quite the mouth on you. Don't you, princess?"

At the pet name, Sam visibly shivered, unable to suppress this one. That name was reserved for the moments when it was about to get nasty. And the way Daniel was glaring at Sam? It was about to get very, very nasty. 

"And what about it, big loser?" The bassist really hammered the last nail in the coffin with the smirk and raised eyebrow he sent Danny’s way. 

That's what finally set Daniel off.

His arms dropped to his sides, hands balling into fist. Sam watched it happen in rapt fascination, feeling just the tiniest twinge of fear in his heart. However, it was drowned out by the excitement flooding his veins at knowing just how much he had successfully riled up Daniel. 

"On your knees.”

Sam was not expecting that of all things for Danny to say. He felt his eyes get big as he swallowed thickly. That fear had turned into surprise, his heart fluttering inside his ribs. He knew where this was going, however he still dumbly asked: "W-what?"

"Get on your knees. Right now, princess," Daniel growled, his teeth clenched as he spoke. 

Doing as he was told, Sam slipped off the couch and stood on his knees, his eyes gazing up at Daniel. This was far from the first time Sam had viewed Daniel from this vantage point; it certainly would not be the last, either. At least, not if Sam had any say in it.

"What have I told you about that mouth of yours, princess?" Daniel approached Sam, only a few inches away from him. Danny leaned down just enough so that Sam didn’t strain his optic nerve to look at him, but Daniel still loomed above him. Sam was suddenly reminded of devotees gazing up at their gods on bended knee, feeling a sense of understanding of their blind devotion at that moment. 

"That it's only useful wrapped around your cock," Samuel answered, stealing a glance down at the other man's crotch directly in front of him. He felt a rush of saliva at the mere memory of the weight of it on his tongue, having to swallow it down so that he wouldn’t drool. 

Daniel hummed in approval, his hand coming to pet Sam's hair. Sam is only mildly ashamed to admit he leaned into it like a cat. 

"That's right, pretty boy," Danny used his other hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, leaving them on and only freeing his cock, "now put it to good use."

Knowing when to obey, Sam immediately wrapped his lips around the tip of Danny's dick. The growl that slipped past the golfer's lips made Sam's own dick twitch inside his jeans, a whimper escaping his lips.

Sam wasted no time bobbing his head up and down the length of Daniel's cock, hollowing out his cheeks and laying his tongue flat. The long, drawn out moan that escaped from the back of Danny’s throat was music to Sam’s ears. When he looked up at Danny through his lashes, he’d noticed that the drummer’s head had tipped back, his eyes pinched closed as he basked in the pleasure Sam was imparting onto him. 

It wasn't long before Daniel grabbed the top of Sam's hair and began setting his own pace, Sam gagging as the other man's cock hit the back of his throat particularly aggressively. But Sammy took it all in stride, only mildly disgusted when the extra spit that flooded his mouth began dripping down his chin. At least Danny would find it hot that Sam now looked all ruined. 

Tears fell from his eyes right before Daniel pulled Sam off of him, a string of saliva connecting them as he looked at Daniel with the most lust filled gaze. His eyes half lidded as he panted in order to catch his breath, barely able to breathe around Danny’s girth.  

"Take off your clothes, whore," Daniel commanded, his voice rough but still authoritative. He had tilted his head forward in order to look down at Sam. 

"Awww, Danny boy's a wreck 'cause of little ol' me," Sam taunted, his voice even more of a mess than Danny's. 

Daniel cocked his eyebrow once again, Sam's smirk growing at the reaction he was able to pull from Daniel. However, it quickly fell from his face at what the drummer stated next. 

"Clothes off. Get on the coffee table. On your hands and knees.”

Sam's breath caught in this throat, finding himself obeying the commands at the deep, rumbling tone Daniel employed. Once he was stark naked, Sam climbed up onto the wooden coffee table and rested on his hands and knees just as he was told. A twinge of embarrassment made his face pink, overly aware of the heavy staring from Daniel. 

"I told you to only use that pretty mouth of yours for sucking, princess. Now it's gotten you into deep trouble," Danny told Sam, his voice deep and guttural. 

Sam looked over his shoulder to see Daniel sliding his belt out of his pant loops, gathering the white leather in his hand; the appendage bulging with veins underneath tanned, practiced, and calloused skin. 

The bassist involuntarily whined as he put together what was about to happen. Yeah, he was in deep trouble. Like, the deepest fucking layer of trouble he could possibly be in- well… maybe not. There was one time that Sam had continued to mouth off even after this stage and… well… Sam was pretty sure they’d have to move this little shindig to their bedroom to get the rope if he pushed his luck any further. 

Sam gripped the edge of the table in his hands as a sharp snap of leather came down onto his ass, a yelp leaving his throat. He didn’t hurt. Far from it, in fact. The noise was one of surprise, more than anything else. 

He felt a warm, calloused hand smooth over the spot that was just struck before it remained planted on the opposite cheek. Another blow came, the sound just as loud as the belt made contact with Sam's skin. This time, however, instead of a yelp in surprise Sam let out a needy whine as the pleasure overruled the pain. 

Daniel kept going, raining down blow after blow. His fingers dug into the skin of Sam's ass as his moans became needier and needier. Samuel was certain his ass was becoming bright red. But he wanted Danny to keep going, to allow the belt and his digging fingers to leave bruises that would stain the skin there for days; to serve as a reminder for who he belonged to and who belonged to him.

With another snap of the belt, Sam became a waterfall of incoherent pleas. "Oh, please, please, PLEASE, Daniel! I need more fuck- FUCK! I need more,  you don't understand how much I need- oh my god please FUCK!"

A pleased hum sounded from the drummer. "Look who finally learned how to run their mouth properly.” 

Without any warning, Daniel flipped Sam so his back was pressed against the coffee table. Sam's brow was knit as he pleaded up at Daniel, his lips pouting slightly. 

"God, fuck! You don't know how easy you are to fucking need with a face like that!" Daniel lost his composure momentarily after gazing upon the visage of Samuel fully exposed and begging him for anything Danny was willing to give him. It was enough to break any man, even one perceived as a god. 

Throwing the belt to the side with a loud clatter, Daniel pressed his lips into Sam's; sudden and aggressively. Sammy's hands immediately grabbed at Danny's shirt, trying his best to rip it off. He was eventually successful as the fabric tore underneath his hands with a clamorous noise. Daniel was surprised, to say the least; marveling at what Sam had just accomplished. 

"You're gonna pay for that, princess." And just like that, Daniel was back. Though, there was no missing the awe hidden just beneath that authoritative growl. 

"Hurry up and give me my punishment, Danny. I've been waiting for it this whole damn time,” Sam impatiently demanded, also falling back into his role within the blink of an eye. He wouldn't be tamed so easily. It was more fun for both of them that way. 

Opening the drawer next to Sam’s head and popping open the bottle of lube with his thumb, Daniel glared down at Sam. "Watch your fucking mouth."

Before Sam could even say anything, Daniel was plunging his  lube covered fingers into him. With an unfettered scream, Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his back arched up off the table. Danny played Sam like a violin, using his fingers to cause Sam to make all the noises he wanted him to. 

Just as quickly as they had been shoved into Sam, Daniel pulled them out much to the bassist's dissatisfaction. He made his disapproval known, huffing out loudly. "That wasn't even close to being enough."

Kicking his boxers off, Danny's hand came down hard onto the side of Sam's right thigh.

"I think your next lesson will be one of patience, princess," Daniel threatened before squirting lube onto both of his hands before tossing the bottle back into the drawer. 

Using his left hand, Daniel stroked his own cock. His right hand came to wrap around Sam's aching dick, a pathetic wail ripping out of his throat at the contact. He'd never been so thankful over the fact that Daniel was ambidextrous in his entire life. Truly, he’d have to write him a card or something for him when this was all said and done. 

Daniel's hand never left Sam's dick as he plunged his cock into Sam, all eight, well endowed inches into Sam. All of the other noises Sammy had made up to this point had been absolutely nothing compared to the toe-curling scream he let out as

Daniel pushed himself in. Sam's vision was beginning to white out in pure pleasure, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

His hands gripped the sides of the table for dear life as his back arched, his toes curling involuntarily as the feeling of Danny throbbing inside of him. It was driving him insane, the feeling of it being too much, yet not enough all at once. 

It wasn't until Daniel started thrusting that Sam really lost control of himself. He became a mess of pleading and screaming out Daniel's name like a satanic and perverted prayer. 

"Daddy please - fuck, please!!"

Sam cried out after Danny managed to nail his prostate, his vision fully whiting out.

Daniel, knowing exactly what he had just accomplished, shifted his thrusting to focus all his attention there. Samuel's brain short circuited, his mouth permanently hanging open as he remained silent, all brain function stopping. 

Sam gave no warning before cum began spurting out of his cock, a final pathetic cry ripping out of him as he painted himself in white. It was a surprise to even Sam. But, hitting your g-spot over and over to the point of abusing it would surprise anyone, he guessed. 

Daniel was soon to follow, pulling out and pumping his cock before he also covered Sam's chest in cum. They were both out of breath, sweat covering every inch of their skin. Danny had bent over at the waist, his arms catching his fall and planting on either side of Sam’s head. Looming above Sam once more, the bassist had never felt more comfortable in his life. He’d happily perish in this spot if it meant he got to spend his final heartbeats  between Daniel’s arms. 

"You should play bad rounds of golf more often," Sam finally posited, a stupid smile on his face as he gazed up at Daniel. 

The drummer laughed, caught by surprise. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, princess?"

Samuel gulped at the pet name usage. However, that previous edge had vanished from his voice. 

Impossibly, he felt his dick twitch at the combination of seeing Daniel covered in sweat and cum while panting heavily. And when he looked back into those hazel brown and green eyes and saw nothing but amusement, adoration, and satisfaction, Sam knew that it was, in fact, he was where he belonged. 

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Tag List:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop

[fighting-naturalist]

“lol what’s personal space”

Sam and Daniel in “Avatar”

[stargaterevival]

SG1 Singularity (1.15)

[atlantis-scribe]

I wanna hear about your sam x daniel agenda :D

the agenda is that I ship them lol

my main SG-1 ship is JD, but after reading Still Life With Cliche by Komos (it's AMTDI SamxDaniel & JackxDaniel, so be warned) it really made me Think Things.

granted, the pairing itself already had great potential in my books. it's less flashy than all the other big Stargate ships, but sometimes I like a nice, quiet little partnership between kindred spirits, you know?

I see it more as a far-into-the-future OldMance thing, maybe when they're both ushering in new blood for the program. (and maybe with Jack out of the picture, because he's always going to be The Elephant Under the Mountain).

SG-1 has always been a little more fucked up for me than SGA in terms of psychosexual dynamics (save for Teal'c, which is largely the writers' fault, tbh, and is definitely surely not at all a racially motivated writing choice because seriously, have you seen Christopher Judge??) but yeah. let's just chalk it up to our favorite Jaffa not touching the Humans Are Weird About Sex issue with a ten-foot pole. basically, I have some headcanons about the whole group (with Cam and Vala) being this weird poly thing that is too convoluted to even think about much less discuss among themselves.

And in the middle of all that tangled-up mess I see Sam and Daniel as some kind of oasis. maybe it started as them sizing the other up in relation to their own UST with Jack, then the genuine friendship and unconditional trust, then the let's-try-it-what-can-go-wrong-ok-so-i-love-you-but-there's-still-the-Jack-thing, then it develops into a deep understanding and affection and faith in each other that is valid as a platonic lifelong friendship but also sounds sweet if at the end of the road, they find their way back to each other. quiet and peaceful. no more unspoken baggage. just love.

[calebbrewsterr]

LOVE LOVE daniel asking if he and sam were in a relationship in fallen.

[moonxnite]

I smile like an idiot when I see my man, who’s not my man, on my television screen.

[riverageleis]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sam Carter/Daniel Jackson (Stargate), Rodney McKay/John Sheppard Characters: Jennifer Keller, Cameron Mitchell (Stargate), Jack O'Neill, Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, Evan Lorne, Teal'c (Stargate), Vala Mal Doran Additional Tags: Alien sex pollen with a twist, Mutual Pining, background mcshep, But It's a Terribly Kept Secret, Mentions of Previous Sam/Jack, Mentions of previous Jack/Daniel, Stargate Atlantis Season 4 AU, There will be episode tags eventually, They are incredibly competent people except with each other, Fluff and Angst Summary:

Set somewhere in a Stargate Atlantis Season 4 alternate universe, Daniel ends up on Atlantis under Sam's leadership. We get some pretty typical Daniel stuff, but there are also some surprises. We get to see a depth of Sam's character not previously seen. Jack's influence on them both becomes more and more obvious as time goes on. With the help of Pegasus flora and, maybe even a nudge from Atlantis herself, Sam and Daniel find that maybe being more than friends isn't a terrible thing at all.

  Note: There is absolutely no non-con/dub-con in this piece. That's the sex pollen twist.

[stardustbarbarians]

Dial Drunk

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Tags: angst disguised as humor, drinking, getting arrested, sam-centric

Trigger Warnings: implied alcoholism

A/N: Hi guys I swear I'm alive. Good Omens just has me in a goddamn chokehold rn. Anyway, I recently became obsessed with Noah Kahan and so this is the result. Cover made by the incomparable @ofthecaravel (thank you, Karou <3). Title from Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (once again, not required, but I highly encourage you listen to it). Enjoy!

Words: 4.5 k

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I'll dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'll die for you

Sam was sloshed. And wasn’t that just the understatement of the century. He’d stumbled into this bar after the other one had kicked him out yelling something about him needing to stop causing a ruckus. It didn’t matter. 

What did matter was that the alcohol flowing through his veins was encouraging him to make the worst of decisions. His brain had long been soaked in tequila, taking close to ten plus shots over the course of the night. 

“Another,” he slurred out, slamming his empty glass on the bar to alert the bartender. He realized that he couldn’t focus his eyes on the man and something in the back of his mind told him that was cause for concern. Another shot would shut it up. 

“No, son. I’m cutting you off,” the bartender informed him sternly. At least, that’s what Sam thought he said. 

“I don’ CARE. Gimme ANOTHER,” Sam yelled, slamming the empty glass so hard onto the bar that it made the ice inside fly out and onto the floor. 

The bartender made for the glass, saying something about shattering it and getting Sam hurt. Sam, despite his sluggish brain, was able to yank it away and out of reach. 

“NO!!” 

The barman huffed and made another attempt at reaching for the glass Sam was holding. He pulled back even further to get out of the man’s reach only to find himself falling flat on his back onto the floor. 

“Yeah, you’ve had enough,” the patron on Sam’s right had declared. She got up from her stool and plucked the glass from his hand, Sam too stunned to try and fight her. 

The drunk slowly picked himself up off the floor, heavily relying on the arm the woman who took his glass offered. She was a burly woman, probably worked on the assembly line in the auto plant right down the road. She easily hoisted him up, Sam being about as heavy as a boiled noodle. 

The young man slurred out what he thought was a thank you, but it came out as more of a “thaa-oo” than actual words. 

Sam, still leaning on the woman without realizing it, locked eyes with the barman. “More.” 

“No. You’re done. If you’d like me to pour you a glass of water, I’d be more than happy to.” The man lifted his chin up just a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. 

It finally seemed to get through the sea of tequila that was Sam’s brain that he’d been cut off. Well, he understood that this gentleman was no longer serving him. And nothing as trivial as one person would stop him from getting what he wanted. 

Finally, he pulled away from the woman he was leaning against and rounded the opening in the bar. Unfortunately for Sam, this particular barman had guessed that would be his next move the minute he formulated the plan in his mind. However, he wasn’t fast enough. Sam was able to round the bar, but ran right into the bartender. Sam was hardly fazed, making a reach for one of the bottles of tequila behind the man. 

“If you don’t quit it, I will throw you out,” the bartender warned, pushing Sam’s arm down. He wouldn’t quit, trying to move past the annoying man to get his desired drink. 

“C’mon, man!” Sam was rapidly becoming more frustrated, his attempts becoming increasingly more violent. He eventually planted both of his palms onto the man’s chest and shoved him back. He stumbled a step or two but was able to recover, using his forearm to pin Sam against the bar. It hurt as it pressed into the small of his back, his arms attempting to shove the unwanted touch off of him. 

“Call 911 and tell them we’ve got a reckless drunk here,” the bartender ordered, looking at the woman who helped Sam to his feet. Sam was vaguely aware that his end goal was coming to fruition, but he was too preoccupied with screaming at the bartender to “get off me” and shoving his arm off. 

It was within the blink of an eye that Sam was being yanked from his shirt off the bar. He came face to face with the man he recognized as the bouncer. 

“Get a grip, man,” his deep voice growled out. Sam, whose brain was long past thinking through his actions, did probably the stupidest thing he could’ve. 

“Get OFF!!” he roared before rearing back and punching the man in the face. He stumbled back a few steps, nursing his jaw. But most importantly, he released the grip he held on Sam’s shirt. 

He took the opportunity and bolted for the door. Unfortunately for Sam, other patrons in the bar had begun to take notice of the massive disturbance he was causing. As he made for the exit, about four people took action and tackled him to the ground. He attempted fighting back, only to find himself completely pinned to the floor. 

“Take him outside,” the bouncer ordered from somewhere behind Sam. He felt hands strongly grasp him by the shoulders and pinning his hands behind him as he was marched out the front door. He tried to thrash against the hold on him, but it was no use. He was completely restrained. When they reached it, Sam was pushed forward out the swinging door. 

“Thanks, guys. I’ve got it from here,” the bouncer announced. The hands left his arms and shoulders. However, he wasn’t able to make an escape like he wished. Instead, he felt a tight grip on his shirt from behind him. He wasn’t getting anywhere. 

Sam was forcefully sat down on the curb, that hand on his shirt never leaving. He attempted running a few times, but each time he was yanked back violently. After the third time, he’d given up when he scraped his elbow on the rain-slick concrete. Since when did he get woozy at the sight of blood?

“You ain’t going nowhere until the cops take you away for punching me, you son of a bitch,” the bouncer spat, using the hold on Sam to yank him back once more. He sat on the curb, the cold of the rain sinking through the thin material of his shirt and seeping into his skin. He had to keep wiping the rain off his face, droplets trickling down his skin. His breath ghosted out of his mouth with each exhale, a chill long since setting into his bones. 

It wasn’t long until Sam saw the lights in the distance, the wailing of the sirens following quickly after. The cruiser with “sheriff” painted along the door pulled up right next to the entrance, an officer stepping out a moment later. That’s when the reality of the situation sunk in for him. 

When he finally looked up into the face of the policeman - having difficulty with the bright lights burning his retinas - Sam groaned. Could his luck have been any worse? 

“Samuel,” the officer greeted, a cold amusement in his tone. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a corner of his mouth twitched upwards. It was hard to see behind his large mustache, but right as rain, it was there. 

“Deputy Russell,” Sam grumbled, a pained look on his face. 

“How come when we got the call for a drunk and disorderly I knew you’d be the one waiting for me at the bar?” Deputy Russell towered over Sam from his involuntary seat on the curb, the latter having to crane his neck in order to look at him. 

Sam buried his head in his hands, groaning loudly. He felt like a scolded toddler after breaking a window. Except, this was significantly worse. 

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve just got a crush on me, Alexander,” Sam managed to say relatively comprehensively. He even managed a pretty charming smile. 

That earned him a laugh from the policeman, albeit a small one. Still, it gave Sam hope that he’d go easy on him. 

“You’re not my type, Sam,” Russell lightly commented, his attention turning away from him to the bouncer, “Alright, tell me what he did this time.” He produced a small flipbook and pen from his brown rain jacket that had light brown piping along the arms and his badge embroidered onto the left breast pocket. 

The bouncer launched into a lengthy account of the events of the night; how Sam became increasingly violent as people tried to stop him. He became a lot more animated when he got to the part where Sam socked him. 

“...And that’s when we dragged his sorry, skinny ass outside. He tried making a break for it a few times, but he never got away,” the bouncer finished, his hand never leaving Sam’s shirt. It was probably going to be permanently stretched at that point. That’s not even mentioning the crimson staining the fabric from the injury on his elbow. Pity, Sam liked this shirt. 

With a sigh, Deputy Russell finished taking his notes on the bouncer’s story. “Did he manage to hit anyone else?” 

“You’d have to ask Jerry about that one. I only intervened when he went behind the bar,” the bouncer answered. 

 There was a deep-seated look of disappointment that had crept onto his face as the bouncer went further and further into his account of the night. The deputy scribbled something else down on his paper before flipping it closed. 

“Arlight, Sam. You know the drill,” the deputy sighed in a resigned tone as he removed the cuffs from his belt. 

He knew this part was coming. It was what he was hoping for. 

“Breaking out the cuffs tonight? Awww, Alexander, what’s the occasion?” Sam teased. He rose up from his spot on the curb; or, at least, he tried to. The bouncer still had his hand fisted in Sam’s shirt and he ended up nearly falling onto his face if it weren’t for Deputy Russell’s lightning-fast reflex to grab Sam by the shoulders. 

“You’ve proven that you can’t be trusted,” Russell grunted, righting Sam on his feet before twirling him around. 

The metal of the cuffs was cold as they dug into the skin of his wrists. It didn’t help the chill that had nestled into his bones at all. The noise as they snapped into place was a unique one - a cross between a snap and a creak - and one that was not unfamiliar to Sam. 

“Hope you rot in that cell,” the bouncer spat as he watched the young man get loaded into the back of the patrol car. 

“And that shiner looks real cute on you. I can give you another one as soon as I’m out, sweetheart!” 

“I didn’t hear that,” Deputy Russell firmly stated, accentuating his point with the slam of the car door. It wasn’t that he was trying to get Sam out of trouble, he just didn’t want to add another charge atop his mountains of assault paperwork he would have to file in the incident report. 

+++

“Samuel Kiszka… I should’ve known it was you,” someone drawled from within the precinct. Sam knew that voice all too well. 

“You owe me a twenty, Alice,” Deputy Russell yelled as he hauled Sam inside. 

Sheriff Alice Langston was the best Sheriff the county had seen since 1967. She wasn’t a strict by-the-book woman, but knew when someone deserved some leeway and when they deserved the wrath of God. She was in her mid fifties, gray streaking her black hair that was always pulled back into a very professional bun. Smile lines had creased themselves besides her dark brown eyes along with the ridges in her forehead. 

“You thought someone else was being an annoying drunk?? Alice, I am deeply hurt…” Sam joked, his face pulling into a look of fake offense. He was rather good at acting and perhaps in another life he would’ve pursued a life on the stage rather than attempting to break the local record of most arrests before 30 years of age. 

“What can I say, I’m an optimist,” she replied to Sam before turning to her deputy, “what did he do this time?” 

“The usual. Drank himself stupid until someone tried to stop him and got violent,” Deputy Russell recounted, a wariness in his voice that came with months of dealing with Sam’s tiring behavior. 

Sheriff Langston put her hands on her hips and shook her head. A sigh that originated deep within her bones escaped her lips. “When is this going to stop, Sam?” 

Sam just shrugged his shoulders. “When I’m dead, perhaps.”

The sheriff placed a hand on her forehead, her fingers rubbing at her temples. Sam knew how much of a pain he was to the local law enforcement and underneath all of his heartache, Sam was sorry for it. But, it was the only way he could have a valid excuse for calling him. So he wasn’t going to stop until Sam finally got his ex back. 

“Lock him up,” Sheriff Langston ordered her deputy with a sigh. 

“Wait, wait. Don’t I get my phone call first?” Sam frantically asked, his head whipping around back and forth in order to try and get a better look at Deputy Russell who was behind him. It made his head spin even more and increased his feeling of nausea, his stomach churning aggressively and making Sam want to keel over. 

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” Langston informed as she made her way to her office.

“That’s not fair!! I want my one call!” Sam screamed, attempting to wriggle away from the deputy’s grasp on his arms. It wasn’t as effective as he hoped given the fact that he could hardly walk unassisted and was about one sharp movement away from vomiting all over the carpet of the precinct… again. 

“And I want a million dollars. We don’t all get what we want, Kiszka,” Deputy Russell grunted as he moved Sam towards the holding cells. 

Sam was uncuffed before he was pushed into a holding cell, the door slamming behind him with a resounding finality. It echoed off the walls of the holding area, making the pounding in Sam’s head worsen. 

“Can I at least get a towel or something?? I’m gonna die of hypothermia at this rate,” Sam pleaded, his hands wrapped around the bars and pressing his face in the space between them. 

With an eye roll dramatic enough to win him a Tony award, Deputy Russell turned on his heel and disappeared out of the hold cell area and down a hallway that Sam had never been down. A few minutes later, he reappeared with a beach towel in his hand. 

“Thank y-” his gratitude was cut short with the towel being thrown in his face. Sam, in his drunken state, fumbled the folded cloth for a moment before he secured it in his hands. He was just thankful he managed to grab it before it touched the floor. He knew firsthand how fucking disgusting the floors of these cells were. And considering his shoes were sticking to the floor, he’d rather not let the thing he wanted to wipe his face with touch it. 

He unfolded it without ceremony. He had to laugh at the fact that Ariel was featured prominently on it. The towel was probably one that came from Russell’s personal locker, one he probably took from home. He had a daughter who was now in her teens; Sam had seen pictures and heard stories from Russell about her. Sweet kid. Brilliant. 

Sam threw the towel over his head and began scrubbing his hair, the droplets dripping off the strands and down the skin of his face and back had been driving him crazy since he was thrown in the patrol car. Next he patted his body down, knowing it was nearly futile as he was soaked to the bone. Once he was done with that, he threw his hair up into a towel tie, thankful the wretched stuff was off his neck. He liked how long his hair had grown - to the middle of his back - but it was certainly a pain to maintain. 

“So. Just us again, huh?” Sam asked Deputy Russell after he’d finished toweling off. 

“Yes, considering god hates me,” the officer grumbled under his breath. 

“Awww, I’m not that bad."

The glare that the deputy threw at him was deadly. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a loveable nuisance as he’d thought. 

“Tell you what. I’ll cut you a deal,” Sam began, his hands back around the bars as he got as close to the deputy as his enclosure would allow him. 

“Because you’re in a position to negotiate,” Russell laughed, the sound bordering humorless. He’d taken his hat and rain jacket off at that point. One of his hands had come up to his face to fiddle with his mustache, a habit he tended to enact while he was idle. 

“You give me my phone call and I’ll keep my mouth shut for the rest of the night,” Sam continued, ignoring the deputy’s comment. 

“Not happening, Sam.” Deputy Russell’s voice was stern, the words a finality. 

“I’ll praise the flag-”

“Nope.” 

“I’ll kiss your badge-” 

“No.”

“I’ll change my fucking faith-”

“Nice try.”

“Man, why?? Why the hell won’t you let me call anybody??” Sam whined, going so far as to stomp his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Though, to be fair to the toddlers, they sounded far more mature than Sam just had. 

“Because,” the deputy began slowly, his patience already wearing thin, “Sheriff Langston said so.” 

With another frustrated stomp of his foot, Sam groaned petulantly. It wasn’t fair! He always got his phone call and all of the sudden they just cut him off??

“That’s not a valid reason and you know it, Alex!” 

“It is fair.” 

“How?? ‘Because I said so’ is the answer you give to a child!” 

“Well,” the deputy leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped together as he rested his elbows on his knees, “maybe if you started to act like an adult, I’ll treat you like one.” 

Sam groaned in frustration, hitting his head on one of the bars in front of him. 

“You know I’m just going to keep asking until I get what I want.” It was very much a threat thinly veiled as a promise. 

“Oh, I know.” The deputy turned his attention away from his prisoner and onto a book he just pulled out of one of the desk drawers. Sam only got a glimpse of the cover and in his drunken state it took him a lot longer to process the two word title: Good Omens. 

Well, if Sam was anything, he was a man of his word.

Taking a deep breath, Sam began singing. “Baby shark, doo-doo-do-doo-doo-doo…”

This went on for about twenty minutes - Sam singing Baby Shark on loop - and he had to admit he was impressed. The deputy had put up a pretty good resistance, but Sam was nothing if not a stubborn bastard. 

“FINE!! YOU WIN!!” Russell yelled, his hands unclamping from his ears to ball into fists onto the desk. 

Sam ceased his singing, a victorious smile spreading across his lips. It didn’t fall in the slightest as he was yanked out of the cell and put back in handcuffs. 

The deputy maneuvered the criminal towards the payphone that hung on the far wall of the precinct. It was an ancient thing, probably having not been replaced since the mid 70s. There were marks all over it in multiple colors of Sharpie, more than a few of them cursing out the police. Gouges and scratches littered the once proud, shiny, black plastic. A seat was placed just to the left of it, equally as trashed as the payphone itself. 

Before Sam was set down in the seat, Deputy Russell removed a cuff off one of Sam’s wrists before moving his arms from behind his back to in front of him. He then snapped the cuff onto the arm of the chair after Sam sat in the dirty and ripped upholstery. 

With his hand not holding the receiver, Russell snagged a quarter off one of the nearby desks and slid it into the coin slot. His finger poised to enter the number into the rotary. 

“Who am I calling,” the officer tiredly asked, his head turning towards Sam as he brought the receiver to his ear. 

“Daniel Jean Louise Marie Wagner, please and thank you,” Sammy answered, flashing a superficially sweet smile at the deputy. 

“I don’t even know why I asked,” Alexander Russell muttered under his breath. He didn’t even need to access a computer to enter the number, having it memorized just from the sheer amount of times Sam has made Daniel his emergency phone call. 

When it began ringing, he handed the phone off to Sam. He went to grab it with his cuffed hand at first, then made the quick adjustment to reach with his free hand. 

It rang for a lot longer than Sam had hoped. He just about gave up and believed that it would go to voicemail when the line went quiet… then a brief amount of rustling on the other end. 

“....Hello?” a bleary voice croaked out; Daniel’s voice. 

“Daniel! Danny, baby, so uh… yeah…” 

Sam hadn’t thought Daniel would actually respond so he had no idea what to say. 

“Right, so I’m at the county lockup and-” 

“Oh, for FUCKS-” 

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Crestfallen, Sam slowly let the phone drop from his ear. His mouth fell agape as he felt his hand fall into his lap. He couldn’t believe it. After all that… 

“What happened?” Russell asked, his stern demeanor softening slightly at the sight of his favorite troublemaker so dejected. 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. Well, there was a sound, but it sounded like if you scuffed your shoe against a hardwood floor. So hardly word material. 

“Did he hang up on you?” 

All Sam could do was nod. He finally snapped his mouth shut, forcing himself to act like a human again. He slammed the receiver back onto its hook so hard it caused the bell inside the phone to jingle. 

“Damn. That’s… That’s wrong. Son, why do you do this to yourself?” 

It was a good question. Why did he continue to ruin his life for a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with him? 

Sam didn’t respond. He just sullenly gazed down at the wretched linoleum as if it were to blame for Sam’s pathetic love life. Stupid fucking tile floor. 

“Well, I can’t let you stay there. Let’s get you up.” Russell didn’t even bother to put the cuffs back on Sam. He knew the kid was too broken to try anything, not to mention stumbling drunk. 

When Sam was back in his holding cell, all he did was sulk. He laid down on the uncomfortable and scratchy cot that was stuffed into the corner with his back against the wall. He wanted to get some rest, but every time he closed his eyes it felt like he was in a washing machine with the spin cycle on high. So he just let his head rest against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. 

Deputy Russell made a few attempts at conversation, but Sam would only respond in these two word sentences. He wasn’t in the mood, frankly. He felt like an ass, but that happened more often than not these days. The pain would metastasize when the sun would peek over the horizon, leech into all of his bones and burn inside him with glowing shame and embarrassment for his actions the past night. 

But that’s tomorrow. 

Tonight was reserved for wallowing in his self pity and-

“Samuel?” It wasn’t Russell that asked, but Alice Langston. 

The man in question snapped his eyes open and whipped his head forward. He moved too fast, his stomach churning and making him have to press his hand into it to keep the nausea at bay. 

“Yeah,” he weakly responded, his eyes pinching shut to stop the room from spinning. 

The cell door opened. That made Sam crack his eyes open. 

Staring back at him with a rage and fury that could rival only the wrath of God Herself was none other than the man he wanted to see most in the entire world. 

“Daniel,” Sam sighed, a smile spreading so wide across his face that he started to feel his cheeks hurt. 

The frown on Danny’s face deepened and that’s when Sam noticed the dark bruises underneath his sunken eyes. He hadn’t slept. Or, rather, he had slept, but it was interrupted. The scowl on his face aged him about five years. Or maybe it had just been so long since the last time he’d seen Daniel. He wore a pair of ratty gray sweats, a maize and blue sweatshirt he got from his alma mater. He also had on a black rain jacket that was covered in droplets, grass sticking to his converse. So, it was still raining. That was also evident by the few strands of his curls that stuck to his forehead that had fallen out of the bun he had hastily thrown up. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his shoulders tensed as his eyes bore into Sam’s very soul.

He’d never seen a more gorgeous sight in his whole life.

“You’re here.” 

Daniel didn’t speak, just glared at him before turning on his heel and walking towards the front door. Sam, dumbfounded and a bit star struck, swung his gaze back and forth between the two officers of the law standing at the door to his cell. 

“Your bond has been paid; you’re free to leave,” Langston informed him. Her voice was soft - well, soft for her. 

Sam’s smile somehow brightened, doing the impossible. He jumped off the cot (having to rest his hand against the wall for a second to let his vision stop spinning) and followed after Danny. 

“Daniel, wait,” he called as he tried his best to run after Danny, the guy having the advantage of both sobriety and longer legs. Damn him and his nice legs. 

The man halted in his spot, his back ram-rod straight. Sam was close enough to hear the heavy sigh he let out as he did stop. 

“Why did you… What are you doing here?” 

Danny swiveled his head towards Sam, that death glare probably permanently fixed in Daniel's eyes as they beheld Sam. It made Sam stagger back a few steps, swallow down any words he might’ve had on his tongue. 

“You will keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night, you understand me?” Daniel’s voice was cold, his finger pointed at Sam with an intense look fixed towards him. 

Sam gulped. There was a mix of several emotions swirling around inside him that he was far too drunk to parse out. Despite that, he nodded his head and flashed a nervous smile. 

As he turned away and made for the door, Sam swore he saw Danny’s face soften for a fraction of a second. It was enough. 

For the rest of the ride, Sam couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Daniel would act cold towards him all he’d like, but his actions spoke volumes louder than the message he was trying to convey to Sam. 

It was a start. And that was enough for Sam. 

+++

Taglist: @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop @candycigsonacolortv

[cuillere]

Daniel being supportive <3

Stargate Sg-1 | 1x15 Singularity

[softstrawberrycreamcake]

Louis: *Talking about his life experiences as a vampire*

Armand: Louis was-

Daniel: *Pauses the recording*

Daniel: I’m sorry, was I talking to you? No, Louis, let me talk. Correct me if I’m wrong Armand, Amadeo or whatever the hell your name is, but the last time I checked this was “Interview with the Vampire” not “Interview with the Vampires”. Please, show me in writing where I asked for your input or opinion. Because every time I ask Louis a question, something in your prehistoric vampire muddled brain thinks that I’m talking to you. I have an idea, why don’t you take that cheap outfit of yours and those freaky halloween eyes glowing in the back of your head and get out of here? No Louis, I’m not going to calm down, because if he wants to talk, let’s talk about San Francisco………oh now everyone’s silent? That’s what I thought.

Daniel: *Resumes the recording*

Daniel: So Louis, you were talking about how hallucination Lestat’s hair looked in the moonlight-

[bluerosefox]

Of Tiny Tots, Mistaken Identities, and Reunions

Seventeen year old Damian Wayne is dragged to a business deal outside of Gotham (along with his father and Drake), mostly to keep up appearances that the family does work outside of Gotham, networking, and because Damian does need to learn the ropes of the company, he decides to head outside the meeting with the Manson family to get a breather (mainly cause the Manson's were annoying him fully, it was like they were trying to suck up towards Damian and trying to push their daughter on him but at the same time he caught them almost insulting and hostile towards him before they would stop and correct themselves) when out of the blue a three year old toddler with black hair comes running over with a cheerful "Daddy!" and latches onto his leg.

Damian is stunned in place but feels frozen when he hears a voice, older and almost identical to his own but he can detect a familiarity in it, a voice he only hears in his dreams nowadays say.

"Ellie, no! That's not me Starlight! I'm so sorry dude-"

When Damian turned his head towards the voice he's meet with an near identical face, granted there were some minor differences, but very, very familiar pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. Eyes that were somehow full of life, which shouldn't be possible because the last time he saw those eyes they had been dim and milked over years ago. The speaker had become startled at the his sudden turn and the words that he had been saying had quickly died out when he too took in Damian's features.

"D...Damian?..." the name came out so soft and small that Damian almost didn't hear it but he did.

And before Damian could stop himself, he spoke a name he hadn't dared utter in years.

"Danyal."

His twin looked like he had just seen a ghost, and Damian was sure he looked the same. And given the last time they had last saw each other it was no wonder they both looked like death warmed over them for a moment.

After all... Damian had failed to protect his brother, Danyal al Ghul all those years ago on a botched mission.

His bother who... wasn't dead.

His brother who was looking like he wanted to run but was keeping himself rooted in his spot.

His brother whose eyes were glancing downwards and seemed so nervous.

His brother who knew the little girl, Ellie, still hugging his legs.

His brother who had... responded and corrected her mix up when she had called Damian 'Daddy.'

And oh, she's looking up at him and making grabby hands wanting to be picked up and she has Danyal's eyes and his nose and-

Oh... Damian.... Damian's an uncle it seems.

[calebbrewsterr]

Beautiful heartbreaking Sam x Daniel fic. (NC-17)

[stargaterevival]

Relationship goals 💘

Sam and Daniel in “Singularity” (ft Cassie)

[redroses07]

if miguel introduced johnny to snap