#Pirate Sam Coe

[fangbangerghoul]

Tear You Apart

This is a one-shot dedicated to @spookyspecterino for her birthday!

Minors DNI, 18+

TW: CNC, Facefucking, bondage, light forced voyeurism, it's very explicit and it's a pirate being a pirate so just be wary. This isn't your Sam Coe from Kansas anymore.

word count: 5, 139

You are now Starborn in search for the remnants of what you have left behind in your new current universe. You rush to be reunited with a new version of those you cared deeply but things go awry.

I am extremely excited to share this for my wonderful mutual @spookyspecterino who was one of the first writers on here to inspire me to start writing again in the first place! I wouldn't have 37k of Delgado fanfiction if it wasn't for your fic New You.

Thank you @thatsgoodsquishy0 for being my Editor in Chief and @bearlytolerant for giving it a go and providing the fantastic gameshot!

I hope this is well received and that you enjoy it Spooky! After all it is for you!

Not all of it will be posted here due to it's explicit nature. The rest will be on Ao3. If you would like to go straight there: Tear You Apart Ao3 comments and kudos are appreciated but never required!

Playlist to accompany it

Tear You Apart

Your eyes open slowly to the sound of a crackling fire. Your memory is foggy as you come back to consciousness trying to remember how you passed out in the first place. The last thing you remembered was coming to the Lodge after joining this universe. It was an emotional toll leaving your world behind but it was something you and the Constellation agreed upon before entering your ship one last time to make your journey to Unity. The first mission your heart was set on was to find your friends again, no matter the version of them you may meet. 

You lift yourself and feel your hands tied behind your back. The tight rope was creating a hot friction that rubbed at your wrists creating mild discomfort. There was a deep sense of anxiety that creeped into the pit of your stomach, wondering who could have done this to you. Did The Hunter possibly beat you here? Was it an enemy you had not met yet? Or worse did a version of the someone you once knew have tied you down like this? 

The sound of footsteps against the wood floors interrupted your thoughts and worries and you felt yourself hold your breath in anticipation of your captor. Whoever it was you knew you had the chance to use your wits and persuade them to let you go and to see reason, even if your reasoning sounded straight out of a sci-fi novel. The footsteps were heavier and closer, echoing within the room, as they circle behind you till the boots owner was within your view. Your eyes widen as you look at the man in front of you. He was so familiar yet so alien to the version you knew so dearly. His blonde hair was chopped down to just below his ears and it was shaggy around his face. His leather brown adventurer's hat had a lovely crimson ribbon tied around the base. His eyes were steely blue portraits of the arctic planets you once traveled together. There was even a scar on his left cheek that mimicked lightning that was nonexistent on the version that you knew and once loved. 

“Sam” You breathed, giving yourself away accidentally. His appearance was shocking and what caught you by surprise the most was the crimson skull that anointed his baggy black sweater. He cocked his head to the left and a smile curled at his lips in curiosity. 

“How do you know my name?” His ragged voice was rougher than you remembered and the tone of it sounded amused, like a cat that played with its prey. This version of Sam had a voice that was an octave deeper and it was raspier as if he smoked. You feel yourself shrink to his question unsure of how honestly you should answer him. 

“Are you….part of the Fleet?” You asked him unsure of how to react. What could have made this Sam join the Fleet? Better yet, was he the one who tied you up? His blue eyes glance over to his shoulder where the Crimson Fleet skull patch was and back to you less amused than before. 

“You didn’t answer my question but anyone could have guessed that, darlin.” Sam said lazily as if he was starting to get bored with this conversation. He moved closer to where you sat bound on the couch and with a swift move he had his pistol out, cocked it back and pressed it gently onto your forehead. “I suggest you start answering my questions if you plan to see tomorrow.” 

“I knew another version of you.” You spat out quickly as your heart pounded from the cold touch of his gun. You were so confused and stricken with the sudden turn of events. The face before you was a near perfect replica of a man who used to hold you so tightly at the end of long days, who wouldn’t dare point his gun at you. You felt your chest become heavier with each second as the anxiety crawled up your throat. 

“I don’t appreciate liars.” He growled as he pressed the gun harder to the center of your forehead threatening to pull the trigger. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head down to demand your eye contact. You feared to look away, unsure what he would do. 

“I’m not, I swear! There’s another version of you that I knew from the universe I came from.” You said quickly trying to defend yourself trying to use your eyes to plead him to trust you. If this man was anything like the Sam you knew perhaps, he could believe the unbelievable too. You wiggled your wrists around in panic because in this moment a part of you knew you needed to play along to make it out of this position. “We used the artifacts to go through Unity together.” 

“What did you say? Artifacts?” He bent over to get closer to your face as his gun still was positioned to shoot at any moment. 

“You must be another member of Constellation.” His eyes examined you top to bottom as he slowly removed his gun and put it back in its holster. He took a step back to stand straight and had one boot pointed directly at you as he fixed himself into a comfortable stance. Sam looked past you and made a nod. That was when you heard more footsteps and there were other men who circled around the couch and took their place on each of his sides. They were men you didn’t recognize but each had an unsavory look about them and hunger in their eyes for something yet to be seen. 

“We thought we had already dealt with all the Constellation members but it seems they were hiding one. Maybe you are more willing to share some answers. They didn’t and unfortunately ended up in unsavory places around New Atlantis.” There was a dark chuckle that escaped his lips and something caught in your throat after he admitted to killing this universe’s versions of your friends. You wondered if this Sam was even a part of Constellation at all within this universe or if he killed his friends in cold blood. There was a chill that crawled down your spine and the pounding of your heart now echoed within your ears. You couldn’t tell if it was from the light of the fire or because of the men around him but you started to see more shadows upon his face and the menacing nature of this Sam was all too clear. 

 “Y-you didn’t?” Your words stammered out in disbelief and in horror and you felt tears fill little pools into your eyes ready to crash down your cheeks. It was unthinkable that this world existed. A world where Sam was a bloodthirsty pirate and someone who killed off members of Constellation one by one. He laughed at your horror filled reaction and that’s when he was directly in front of you again, resting his boot on the couch beside you, crouching down to be on your level. You couldn’t tell if he bent down to mock you or to make sure you could hear him. 

“Oh honey, we sure did. They refused to give us what we wanted and well we live by a very strict motto. Fleet First. Not like we didn’t give them the chance.” His voice was laced with fake sympathy as he showed his sharp teeth in a wide grin. He thought he was hilarious and so did his men who laughed behind him. “Now tell us, where are those Artifacts?” 

“I don’t know.” Your lips trembled and your breath escaped you. There was a part of you that regretted the fact that you could bring nothing with you to this universe and didn’t think to stop anywhere to arm yourself. It was obvious now, this Sam wasn’t your friend and the last thing he needed was access to Unity. He would most likely be just as horrible, if not worse as The Hunter. 

Continue reading here

[silurisanguine]

In an alternate universe, Sam might never have been saved by the Rangers....and might have taken another path if things were very different.

(aka what Sam would look like in Delgado's outfit. aka inspiration for my mirror universe chapters....)

[bearlytolerant]

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @fangbangerghoul! I don't have much but I've got a chunk from a short fic I'm writing with Lila, Sam, and Goose! They were too much fun to not go back and see what they're up to!

---

It had been Goose’s idea to rebuild the Bitter Angel. The War Bard was a powerful ship but it was near impossible to sneak up on anyone with its pastel blue paint job and 40m frame. She’d served well in the battle for the Key and Toilman but they weren’t fighting in the war anymore. They were pirates and needed something zippier and subtler than the Bard.

It was Lila’s idea to use a busted up UC transport they’d stolen during the Toilamn conquest as the base for the new Bitter Angel. It already had some of the parts, including the armory, landing bay, and rear landing gears. The landing gears needed repairs but Jazz’s team could manage that.

Sam was the one who pitched the idea of custom habs for the new Bitter Angel. Nothing crazy, just more personalized spaces for longer jobs. Sam and Lila took a Hopetech captain’s quarters and gutted it, leaving only the water closet intact. They installed a large bed in the back of the hab with a sliding divider to close it off for added privacy. A pair of corner couches and a L-shaped desk formed a more physical barrier in the hab to separate the bed from the living space. Goose swapped the Nova all-in-one of the old Bitter Angel for his own room. He picked a Hopetech captain’s quarters as the base, though like his parents he had it gutted save for the water closet. The back half of his hab looked like a computer core with a wall of servers and monitors and a L-shaped desk to separate the back from his sleeping area. He installed a Murphy bed along the inner wall of the hab with a large monitor mounted on bottom frame to be watched from his couch when the bed was up.

“That’s quite the view,” Lila said from the pilot seat. She was leaned forward to look around the blind spots of the chunky bridge frame, “I don’t think I could design a more aggressive docking situation if I tried.”

“That was the point,” Sam was leaning on the seat, “no time for finesse when you’re raiding someone.”

“Yes but from here it looks like the bridge would slam into the mark,” Lila looked back at Sam and Goose, “not to mention you can’t see shit from here. Hopetech really seems to hate pilots being able to see anything.”

“It’s not that bad,” Goose said with a laugh, “plus she’s squirrelly so if you can’t see just tap the stick.”

“Could be worse, could be trapped in a Stroud cockpit, “Sam poked her shoulder, “all that room and one narrow line of windows to see.

“I suppose,” Lila swatted Sam’s hand away as he continued poking her, “You two can have fun flying her, sitting here is tying my stomach in knots.”

“Really?” Goose said in astonishment.

“Yes this cockpit is claustrophobic,” Lila stood up and made her way back through the narrow fuselage, “I might be ancient but I’ve never fully shook the ol’ Terra Firma Syndrome. Why else do you think I like big ships?”

“But you’d said space travel didn’t bother you anymore?” Goose asked.

“Correct,” she leaned against the clean white padding of the fuselage, “but being in a tiny space inches from the void with nothing but a cluster of dinky windows to shield me is too much.” She turned and left the two men in the small bridge, hopping down to the lower level, an echoing thump as she landed on the closed floor hatch to the workshop at the bottom of the ship.

Sam itched his chin, digging at the growing beard. He still wasn’t sure if he was going to keep it, it’s been years since he’d gone more than a few days shaving. Lila liked him either way, though he noticed she was fussing from the scratchy stubble. He’d probably end up shaving it again, if only to escape the itchiness.

He’d only started growing it out because of Goose. The now 18 year old young man wanted to grow out his facial hair but was getting discouraged so Sam agreed to grow his out in solidarity. So far Goose had a decent disconnected goatee going; the hair on his upper lip, chin, and lower lip had grown in thick. He wanted a full beard but the hair got patchier up his jawline and he started shaving it to not get teased by folks around the Key.

Sam watched Goose check over the systems, recalibrating them just like they did with the old Angel. His hair looked feral with the two years worth of grow-out curling every which way. Lila had convinced him shortly after the fight for the Key, when he was still recovering from his injuries, to let her trim all the fried ends from his hair. He hadn’t bleached or dyed his ginger hair since, his curl pattern free to take over. Both Sam and Lila had encouraged Goose to style it in some way, to keep it out of his face, even just run a comb through it to tidy it up but Goose seemed to like it messy and unkempt so there wasn’t much they could do.

At least he bathes and wears deodorant, Sam thought as he lowered himself into the pilot seat. He had a leg up on most his pirate peers with that. Sam flipped on the ship intercom, “if you’ve got any business with the Key say something now, otherwise we’re outta here.”

Lila’s voice bounced up through hatch and down the fuselage, “Let’s bust this joint!”

[x3no9]

The first of many Jaylen Pryce sketches. He is my OC Heinrich's, guilty pleasure. Heinrich is married to Sam BTW. I will be drawing Sam too.

Check out my Starfield fics to see some cowboys and pirates get together ❤.

[spookyspecterino]

New You

Sam Coe x GN! Reader x Delgado

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is called Rook a few times, like in some Crimson Fleet quests.

Some angst. A lot of explicit language. Implied sexual relationships. Pining for a criminal. Poor Sam. Sam is supportive but worried. Delgado is a warning all by himself.

You're there to watch as the pirates you've worked beside for months are taken to prison. They have a few things they'd like to say.

This is about the Crimson Fleet Undercover plot.

I just started the questline. I have no idea how it ends of if anything along these lines even happens. My brain literally bullied me into writing it 😭 I stopped everything to write this lmao.

I really love the theme of going undercover, assimilating, and then having to deal with who you've become and how you've changed after everything. So there's some of that in here.

“You sure you wanna be here for this?”

“I have to see it through, Sam. After months of being undercover, it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.”

He grunts softly. “Alright. Just prepare yourself for pirates to be, well, pirates.”

Doors open on the other side of the transport deck. A squad of UC security and Naval troops, all decked out to the nines, file in, holding mean looking rifles.

The sounds of trouble already echo through the open door.

“Ya fuckin’ bastards! Let me go, I didn’t do jack shit!” A mane of red-brown hair comes in the doorway first as Mathis is quite literally shoved through. It was no surprise that he’s giving everyone trouble.

It doesn’t take much time for him to notice you standing to the side. “You!” He snarls. “I’m gonna put a bullet through your head if it’s the last thing I ever do!”

The laugh that comes out of you is rough, full of vile, and cruel delight. “Shut the hell up, Mathis. The last thing you’ll ever do is rot in a two-by-four cell. I hope they make it cold just for you!”

Mathis screams more explicit insults, most geared toward your mother. The guards fight and yank at the man, rifles raised. Still, they manage to subdue him, robbing you of a chance to put Mathis down yourself. You’re laughing until he’s well past the other doorway and out of sight, you hoped he could hear it from down the hall.

“Seems like a real winner. Good friend of yours?” Sam asks, studying you.

“Fuck no. Hated that asshole from the moment he opened his mouth, to be perfectly honest. I’m going to sleep well knowing he’s going through his worst nightmare.”

Sam’s face pinches together, you only catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eye. His mouth twists, as if he has more than just, “Ah, I see.”

“Have something you wanna say?” The response is snappy, challenging, automatic—something you had to adopt in the midst of pirates, and you regret it immediately. “I…I didn’t mean that…” You sigh, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“It’s alright. I get it. Just try to remember you’re not a pirate anymore.”

“Yeah...I’m working on it.”

His eyes linger. You can feel his thoughtful gaze. It makes you itch.

Pirate life was at least simplistic. Somebody had a problem? You’d know about it immediately. A short knife fight or a brawl and it’d be over. Done.

Being around Sam again was…well it would take an adjustment period.

Months of pirate life, a life you’d adapted to very quickly, and you’re spit back out into civilization on the other side. There was no guidance on how to go back to “everyday life”—on how to shed this new person you’d become.

It’s infuriating. Everyone expects you to pick back up from where you left off…but you can’t. You’re not the same person anymore. Sometimes you wake up and think you’re still on the Key.

Sometimes you wish you were still on the Key.

“I can see you thinking behind that wall of silence.” Sam gently says. His voice sounds so loud on the empty transport deck. “Just know that I’m here for you—always will be. You wanna talk about what happened during those months, you can come to me, judgement free. Promise.”

When you don’t respond, Sam chuckles. “You’re always so quiet now—which is fine,” he’s quick to add, “I just want to help.”

“Yeah…thanks.” Is all you can manage as the transport deck’s doors open again and more armed personnel file through.

Naeva is silent, head held high…until she catches sight of you.

“Oh, it’s on when I get out of here, Rook!” She spits through her teeth, trying to lunge for you. The guards stop her, pull her back into line, but her body remains tense.

“Looking forward to it, Naeva.” A cruel grin breaks free. “You know, I never killed that other Rook you sent me after. Austin Rake. He’s at some Starport, drinking for free right now.”

“You fucking traitor! You’d better be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your damn life! ‘Cause when you don’t, I’ll be there to put a knife through your back!”

“We’ll see about that. I’m sure you’ll get a knife through yours first. Delgado probably isn’t happy that it was your recruit who brought his empire down around him.”

She grins, something dangerous lurks in her expression. “Oh, I’m sure Delgado has some plans for you, Rook. After everything, I can’t imagine how you’re gonna look him in the eyes.” They’re nearing the other doors, Naeva’s trying to twist back to face you, fighting the pushing and pulling of her security escort. “You know he trusted you. Honest to God. Have fun living with that for the rest of your life, traitor!”

Her words hit a nerve. You were very careful not to let it show. Still…it hurt.

As the doors close, Sam turns to face you. “Listen, why don’t we just go? This isn’t healthy.”

“Not really focused on whether it’s healthy or not.”

“That’s part of my point. You have to get away from this stuff, away from the Fleet. This whole thing is just going to give you more to think about and keep you awake at night.”

Lashing out and snapping back a retort is what you want to do. But instead, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

His voice turns soft, pleading. “Don’t go silent again. Please, talk to me.”

“Sam,” you start, very carefully, “I need this. This is my closure.”

“Are you sure?” His blue eyes were soft, full of worry.

More questions—and feelings. It agitated you. Made you grind your teeth together. “I’m sure.”

He looks away, frowning. He’d probably bring it up again, but future you would have to deal with that. Right now, you were more focused on—

Doors slid open. Your heart skips with that familiar flutter while a hard knot forms in your stomach.

Delgado walks, freely, without any guards touching him, through the doorway. He’s given space and walks leisurely as if he owns the Vanguard. There’s no hassling, there’s no pushing.

You’re expecting the worst—or for him not even to look at you. Instead, he holds your stare with a faint smile. “Hold up.” And the guards around him actually stop.

You know that look in his eyes, you’ve seen it a hundred times, your feet move without any command or thought.

Delgado. Leader of the Crimson Fleet. Even if you tried, you couldn’t spare him.

He steps away from the security unit. One last private meeting with the man who owned you, heart and soul, for the last few months.

“I was wondering whether I’d see you here.”

Why are you smiling? “Couldn’t resist the urge to tell Mathis one last time to go fuck himself.”

He chuckles. It sends your nerves out of whack. “I’m very impressed by you. Playing the part that well…” he tilts his head, a secretive smile just for the two of you catches at his lips. “…certainly had me fooled.”

Late nights in dim lighting. Cigarette smoke. Legs tangled up in sheets. Whispers. Rare laughter. It floods back, threatening to break your tough façade.

“Tell me, mi tesoro, are you prepared to go back to the life of normalcy? With your,” He leans over, looking Sam up and down with open distaste, who stands further back—arms crossed and glaring, “little Vaquero?”

“I’m working on it.”

Delgado barks out a laugh. “I know this person you are now. You’ll never be satisfied again.” There’s a teasing glint in his eye that you’re stubbornly avoiding.

“My life before the Fleet was just as exciting and satisfying.”

He hums, his smile turning darker. “I doubt that very much. There isn’t anything so thrilling as robbing a GalBank transport and returning home to celebrate with drinks and…” He pauses, eyes scanning you. “Well, that last part is just between you and me, eh?” His eyes flickered to Sam, then back. “Can he give you that?”

You chuckle, it’s forced. “Delgado. Jealous to a fault. Some things never change.”

“You know he can’t.”

“He can give me something else. Happiness. Security. Maybe even be a life-long partner.”

“And I couldn’t? You insult me, my dear. I would have given you everything.”

“Just as long as you had what you wanted first.”

He holds up a finger. “We obviously know one another very well. So, I offer you this. If you ever get tired of playing nice in a universe that is anything but, you know where to find me.”

“You’re serious?” Your voice lowers to a hiss. “And what, break you out of high security prison just for you to kill me? No thanks.”

“On my word, all debts and grievances would be squared. Think of it. I’d have you by my side—we could build something better than the Fleet ever was. Be free of the UC, the Rangers, everything. Like we always talked about.”

A guard behind him starts walking over. “Alright, time’s up. Let’s go.”

You’re frowning, eyes flickering anywhere but his. “You’re insane.”

Delgado’s expression turns. The light fading from his eyes. “You’ve never been satisfied. It’s something I really like about you.”

He lets the guard corral him back to the others. Your fists are tightly gripped. “The person you knew was undercover.”

“Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better.”

As he’s escorted away, you want to follow. Your legs tense, trying to keep still. His parting words before he passes through the door are, “I’ll be seeing you.”

Then he’s gone. The transport deck feels emptier than it ever has been.

Never satisfied. A life of normalcy. Going back to surveying planets and doing odd jobs for the Rangers. The idea claws at you. Your mind battles with the concept, with the unspoken feelings. Remnants of your past self against whoever you are now.

We could build something better than the Fleet ever was.

You know where to find me.

Sam walks up, standing by your side. Watching. You hadn’t moved. Still staring at the closed doors.

“What did he mean, ‘I’ll be seeing you’?”

The lie is easy. “No idea.”

[doe-writes-stuff]

A/N - Some more action this time around. I don't write too many of those types of scenes, so with any luck they are as thrilling as I hope them to be! Please enjoy, and thank you for your continued support through my Sam Coe Hoe Era <3

WARNINGS: Strong language from reader, space battles.

With the grav drive activated, the threads of space and time shot by in an inspiring painting of bright lights. Distant stars and planets, shooting by as if they were inches apart instead of lightyears. You’d dimmed the interior lights to get the full effect, the silence a fitting backdrop for the show in display. Times like this, you’d often wonder how anyone could go their entire lives not traveling the expanse of space like this. What a view they were missing out on…

Lounged in your cockpit to wait out the travel time to the next system, your eyes watched the black sea fold before the ship as you traveled forward. Cora had stayed up to watch the sight a few hours previously, jabbering on about anything space-related she’d read in her most recent books, but now both her and her father were asleep in the living quarters one deck below. Good. After the non-stop missions you’d run searching for artifacts, they both deserved the rest.

Barrett and Gideon were likely in the rec room just down the way from the sleeping quarters, shooting the shit while you traveled your course to your destination. There was little for them to do while the grav drive was engaged, but you felt it necessary to keep to the day and night shift rotations, if only not to butcher any sort of routine sleep schedule for your crew. Better that than to be unprepared in the case of an ambush from Spacers or, even worse, the Crimson Fleet.

Vasco, of course, didn’t sleep. But you’d set him to cataloguing and organizing the ship’s cargo after your latest expedition dealing with Spacers who’d taken over an abandoned mining facility. To the victor went the spoils, as Sam always liked to say. Better that those damned pirates had less equipment to work with, anyway. Like vultures, they’d eventually flock back to where their dead fell, collecting any supplies left behind and likely picking up where they left off. At the very least, selling off their armaments was an acceptable repayment for the inconvenience of having to deal with them almost everywhere you landed.

Drifting away with your thoughts, three rapid beeps drew your gaze to the navigational projection screen in the cockpit of the Razorleaf. The final stretch of your journey was nearly finished. Sitting up straighter in your chair, you stretch your shoulders and neck, letting out a sigh at the relief it brought.

You press the button to intercom only to the rec room—so as not to wake your two sleeping companions. “Approaching the Sagan system, ETA 20 minutes. Prepare for grav drive disengagement.”

There’s no immediate indication that anyone had heard you, mostly because there was no need to scramble to stations with this much prior warning. Out of habit, you glance over the system statuses. All nominal, nothing of note to be concerned about. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of boots on the rungs of a ladder, and Barrett is the first to speak as he takes his place somewhere behind you.

“Evening, Captain.” His deep, naturally-booming voice sounds all the louder in the small cockpit. You can hear his smile without having to look at it.

“Barrett.” You greet with a small twist in your chair and a nod. Then, a thought occurs to you, and a grin plants itself on your face. “So, who won?”

“I did!” A voice calls from just below the ladder, and Gideon is next to emerge from the below deck. His smiling face says all as he straightens from the rungs. “Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

“If I recall, it was a stalemate.” The dark-skinned man retorted with a chuckle as he took his seat. “But if it helps you sleep at night, we’ll say you win this time.”

“Stalemate? Hardly.” Gideon took his place at the opposite crew station, turning in his chair to point at his board game opponent. “I was a few turns away from capturing your FOB, and your production facility was surrounded.”

“I think you mean to say ‘strategically positioned,’ my friend.”

You turn back to the command console as they continue debating who in fact had come out victorious this round of Star Frontiers—if memory served right, Barrett was still up 4 to 2 with Gideon—and begin settling in place for entering the system. There were still several minutes to go, so you sat and relaxed as the ship counted down the necessary time left.

Eventually, another beep from the ship’s console alerted you the the immediate, impending disengagement of the grav drives. With a loose grip on the throttle and another on the steering mechanism—it wouldn’t be the first time you’d damaged the hull because of some asteroid field suddenly manifesting into existence in front of you—you watch as the grav drive’s timer ticked down to zero.

As it disengaged, you felt that familiar pull of gravity deep in the pit of your stomach. The ship didn’t falter or shudder, but the painting of lights and lines as you’d traversed through the fold slowly lengthened and morphed until you caught a view of the star system of Sagan. All this in the blink of an eye.

So fast, in fact, it took you a solid two seconds to adjust to the change and notice the fleet of ships now pinging your proximity scanner. Too far away for a solid visual quite yet, but you preferred to be overly cautious in known Crimson Fleet territory.

Gideon’s concerned voice floated over to you. He must have noticed too. “Uh, Captain-?”

“I see them.” You say, eyes narrowing out into the endless black, speckled sea of space. You just manage to see the tail-end of their thrusters against the darkness. With one touch of a screen, you initiate a data scan of the ships. Before the report even comes through, your communication array is already pinging with an incoming transmission. In the distance, you see the group move to face your direction.

You hesitate before accepting it. The voice on the other end is…predictably malicious. “We’re going to make this real simple for you. Let us board and you might all live, or die to the vacuum of space as we blow your ship to bits.”

Probabilities are running through your head, but apparently the silence in those precious few seconds isn’t what he was wanting to hear. “You have until my ship gets within missile range to respond.”

“Barrett how fast can the grav drive re-engage?”

“We’d need about 10 minutes for the fuel tanks to be refilled. Vasco!” He commed directly to his robot companion from his station. “Whatever you’re doing right now, drop it and get us refueled as soon as you can. We’re about to have trouble.”

“Acknowledged.” Is the robotic, tinny response.

Too long on the refuel. The Crimson Fleet ships would be upon you by then. You bite your lip, cursing this whole situation. The math wasn’t in your favor, either in engaging in combat or attempting a retreat. That left you with little choice…

Leaning forward, you tap the button to transmit your own message. “This is Captain Y/N of the Razorleaf. We…will prepare to be boarded.”

You could hear Gideon make an astonished sound behind you, but ignore it in favor of listening to the pirate’s response. “Wise choice.” The transmission cut off with a blip, and the cockpit is silent for all of one second.

“Captain, how-“

“I’m not letting them onboard this ship, Gideon.” You reassure with a firm voice, any and all relaxation leaving your shoulders as you straighten in your chair and strap yourself in. “They’ll find that out soon enough. Redirect some power from the grav drive to shields and engines while Vasco refuels.” You’d sooner die than have them anywhere near the inquisitive young girl you had onboard.

Speaking of…remembering that your two other companions were still sound asleep below deck, you hit the full-ship intercom to wake them. “Sam and Cora, strap into something down there and brace for evasive maneuvers. Five Crimson Fleet ships inbound. Repeat, Crimson Fleet ships inbound.”

Once again, there’s no signal to tell you that they heard your com, but you trusted that Sam had woken up at the very least and sprung to action. The group of ships had continued their way towards you, their hulls painted with the signature skull motif growing more visible as the distance between shortened.

With one slow inhale, and carefully controlled exhale, your hands take control of the steering and thruster throttles. The odds weren’t exactly in your favor here, but with any luck, the element of surprise will give you enough of an edge to make it through.

You weren’t about to let Cora die a gruesome death in space. You weren’t about to let Cora die at all. Fuck that and fuck these pirates.

The fleet of ships drifted closer, their speed now slowing in preparation to connect to your docking bay. Crimson Fleet ships were always designed to intimidate, and you had to admit, they were doing their job. Large guns and missile mounts alongside their hulls made for quite a threatening picture. Had this been a merchant or exploration vessel, you doubt you would have had any chance at all.

Gideon says something, but in your concentration, you don’t hear him. A few more seconds…they drift closer. You swallow, anticipation and trepidation in equal parts buzzing just under your skin.

There’s no signal or sign to cause you to engage the engines at full thrust with your boost enabled. It came out of nowhere, and the Razorleaf shoots forward out from the group of ships that had been preparing to box you in. You’re pressed back into your chair, the pressure grounding you as you spin the Razorleaf on a tilt, the distant stars shifting in your cockpit’s view.

Gideon half cursed and praised the sudden change in velocity, but otherwise remained quiet and focused at his station. Barrett was unusually silent, but you were thankful for his lack of interruption or witty quip that was so typical of him. Now wasn’t the time as you began your flight away from the pirates.

Another incoming transmission pinged on your communication array, but you simply denied it, not bothering to give the pirate anymore of your attention.

It would be too much to ask to cleanly get away from the fleet without them firing a single shot. It’s less than a minute before you see the first of the laser fire shoot past your ship and out into the space beyond. With a flick of your wrist, the Razorleaf banks and plummets below their firing line, sending them to chase you through the emptiness of the black sea.

Having Sam around had definitely improved your overall piloting ability. The man was a wonder behind a command console, and you silently thanked him for all of the skill and knowledge he’d seen fit to impart upon you on your travels together. You maneuvered the ship with ease, so familiar with its ability that it felt no more than an extension of yourself, in a way.

Your console blared to life an angry red, alerts coming at you full force. ‘Enemy Missile Locked-On’ it spat at you, and you cursed.

“Shields at 86 percent.” Barrett reported, then because he figured you’d ask, “Vasco, how long before we’re topped up?”

“Should current velocity conditions persist, refueling will take an approximate 16 minutes, 39 seconds. Recommendation: stabilize current flight trajectory to decrease time required for completion.”

You feel the rumble and impact of the missile against the ship’s shielding, but your tight grip on the steering mechanism means you barely tilt off your current course at all, weaving around empty space to throw off their targeting as best you could. 

“Shields?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“49 percent. Those things ain’t no joke.” Barrett mentioned.

“Another one of those is gonna put us in a bad spot.” Gideon mentions with worry in his tone. He’s right, though, and you know it.

With few options at your disposal, you make the realization that evading was only going to last you so long. The Razorleaf had superior shields, but under the onslaught of 5 ships’ weapons systems firing upon you at the same time, they would melt away in minutes just the same as any other ship.

Offensive action was now required.

“Gideon, divert all power from the grav drive to main weapons. Keep shields and engines at their current level.” You order, settling as best you can in your chair. “Looks like fighting is our only way out of this now.”

“Y-yes, Captain.”

She knows what she’s doing.” Barrett chipped in, just as your weapons all clicked online. “Don’t start doubting her now.”

You release a steadying breath, focusing on nothing but the impending fire fight. The throttle seems to hum in reassurance beneath your fingers, and with a resolute prayer to protect those you loved most in the deck below, you activated the boost and shot forward.

4 seconds, then 5, passed as you gained ground in front of the chasing ships. Then, right at the end of your boost, you addressed Gideon. “Cut all engine power.”

Thankfully, he didn’t voice his confusion this time, and simply followed orders. Just as the engines cut off, you jerked the throttle to the side, spinning the. Razorleaf in a free-floating turn to face your attackers. For all of 7 or 8 seconds you continued drifting forward, but space shifted in your cockpit view. This was a risky maneuver, but one that you had successfully employed before.

And then the pursuers came into view as you finished your 180 degree turn. Seeing the ships coming closer with the lasers still firing your direction, you shout once more. “Engines full power!”

The Razorleaf burst to life, the velocity once more shoving you back into the seat and propelling you forward. With a direct line on the first of the approaching ships, trigger finger clamps down on the gear like a vise, shooting the lasers from your upgraded main guns straight into those of the Crimson Fleet vessel.

“Enemy guns down.” Barrett reported proudly, but you’re already onto the one behind it by the time he finishes his sentence, managing to get a lock-on to the ship. A well-placed EM shot took down their shields, and your follow up laser blast no doubt damaged some parts of their hull on the port side.

At your current speed, you shot past them with a tilt of your steering mechanism. The whole thing lasted barely 12 seconds, but it had slowed down to what felt like a lifetime. Barrett, shields?”

“41 percent. Looks like you disabled the second ship. Only 4 more to go.” He reassured with something akin to pride in his voice. You manage a small grin, but don’t let your attention up from the stars before you.

More laser shots hit your shield and past it off into the black sea. More evasive maneuvers puts you in a better position to return fire, though it’s little more than a dogfight. Time passes strangely; what feels like an eternity is mere seconds and the span of a breath, and in the moments of breathless waiting you swear it happened in an instant.

The second ships sparks and explodes in a shower of metal debris in similar fashion to the first, your EM weapon making quick work of the shields, only to be followed up with a barrage of laser fire. Only 3 ships remained, and your shields had so far held steady at 37 percent.

Another missile lock-on warning blares across your screen, sending the adrenaline up a notch. Another boost and you’re suddenly out of range of the enemy’s targeting. Really, tangible hope begins to blossom in your chest as the third ship falls. Your wing grazes some of the debris, and you grit your teeth against the reverberation it sends through the ship.

“Fuck!” You shout, nearly colliding with one of the remaining Crimson Fleet ships as you attempt another evasive roll and bank to get away from his companion’s laser fire. Something loud bangs as you pass, and Barrett cursed under his breath just loud enough for you to hear. “Status?”

“Shields at 9 percent, Captain.” His sentence is punctuated by more laser fire, and he shakes his head at his screen. “Make that 6 percent.”

“These fuckers…” You mutter, angry that they’d been laying here in wait to begin with. Angry that the Crimson Fleet even existed. Maybe once all this artifact business was done, you’d reconsider the SYSDEF’s offer after all. At this point, you’d do anything to see them all wiped from the universe.

Another swift roll of the ship and you shoot forward through the bits of debris through one of the already destroyed ships, making sure to avoid the biggest parts just in case. Your shields wouldn’t hold up much longer, and especially not with the 2 remaining ships still firing at you. Luckily, one comes into view in your cockpit, and your EM weapon was ready to dole out its deadly effects.

This one doesn’t take out the shields, rather the engine. Just as well, you think, leaving the ship to stall out in empty space as you continue on with the last ship in pursuit. Another angry beeping sound alerts and diverts your attention.

“We’ve lost shields.” Barrett warns.

“Now or never.” You tell yourself, bracing for a risky move yet again. “Gideon, cut engines!”

Once more, you feel the Razorleaf lose momentum just as you pull up sharply on the throttle. The view of space tilts in your cockpit as you circle around to face the final working ship. You feel and hear as your ship takes damage, but you can’t focus on that until later. With another sharp order, your engines are back online and your weapons are full-blasting in the direction of the enemy ship.

Amongst the beeping on your console and the the celebration of Barrett and Gideon as the Crimson Fleet ship suffers an explosion—one of your lasers must have hit something vital—you can barely hear anything at all. Your ears ring, what from no one knows. But you sit there, adrenaline still coursing through you as you slow the ship to a more gentle velocity.

The command console still blares, but you shakily reach for the com. “Vasco, damage report.”

“Shield generator and port-side KE-42 Cannon sustained moderate damage. Left wing sustained minimal contact damage. All other ship systems nominal.”

“Any damage below deck?”

“Habitation units sustained no damage.” Then, as if he predicted what exactly you were trying to get at, he added, “Life signs for Sam Coe and Cora Coe are nominal.”

“Thank god.” You whisper to yourself, finally leaning back and unstrapping yourself from the pilot seat. “Vasco, please resume refueling the grav drive. Gideon, reroute power from weapons back to the drive, and Barrett, do an extensive scan of the area to make sure there aren’t any other ships coming to back up those ones.”

You received a smattering of affirmatives from your crew, before slumping forward in your seat. Your legs felt like jelly and the rest of you buzzed with the unused adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Barrett must have noticed your sorry state, because you feel his hand on your shoulder after a moment. When you look up, he’s smiling at you. “That was some damn good piloting.”

“Thanks.”

He gestures to the rest of the ship behind him. “Go on and have yourself a rest, Captain. Gideon and I will handle it from here.”

“But-“

“If we need you, we’ll let you know.” He implies, not giving you the option to refuse. And truthfully, in your shaken-up state, you’re in no position to either. Nodding your acceptance, you somehow manage to stand and make your way towards the ladder to the deck down below. After all of the rolling and moving, it feels strange standing and walking on a static deck. The space seems to sway around you.

However, your head spins before you make it all the way. Dizziness overtakes you, and you sink down onto your cot just feet away. The bed is firm beneath you, but it’s enough to get your bearings on. You plant your face in your hands and exhale a shaky breath, elbows propping you up on your knees.

You’d nearly lost everything. You’d nearly lost your crew. You’d nearly lost Sam and Cora. That scared you more than any number of Crimson Fleet ships baring down on you. It had been too damn close. Too fucking close for your comfort.

Another shuddering breath escapes you, ears still ringing and hollow after such an ordeal. The weight of responsibility, to protect the ones you love most, presses ever downward on your shoulders and back. It would crush you if you let it.

Instead, a gentle hand is upon your back and a gentle voice draws your thoughts from spiraling downward. “Hey. You hangin’ in there?”

It feels like too much to lift your head and look Sam in the eyes. Instead, you simply allow your muscles to shake and shudder as the last of the adrenaline leaves you in a rush. You can’t speak, words failing uselessly at the tip of your tongue. But Sam seems to understand, and simply sits beside you, rubbing smooth circles into your back.

“C’mere.” He says, pulling your arms easily until you’ve buried your face in his leather jacket and wrapped your arms around his back. Maybe he knows where your anxiety was originating, because he whispers all the reassurances he can into your ear. “We’re alright. Cora’s alright. A little motion sickness maybe, but we’re still breathin’, darlin’.”

A deep breath fills your nose with his scent. Familiar and safe and just like home. Hearing him speak, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart underneath the layers of his clothes…you slowly begin to use them to ground yourself back to the present, away from a possible reality where you all floated lifelessly through the dark empty void of space for eternity. No, Cora was alive. Sweet Cora and her father that you held so dear.

You feel the rumble of the grav drive come to life somewhere on the ship. Vasco must have finished the refueling. That revelation does ease some of your nerves. You lift your face away just enough to speak. “It was so close, Sam.”

“Yeah, but no cigar.” You feel Sam prop his chin on your head and pull you in just that little bit closer. “Five ships…Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

“More like crazy…”

“A bit of that too, maybe.” You can practically feel the smile when he presses a kiss against your head. “But hey…Any day we aren’t space debris is a win, right?”

You sigh, deciding to let the man comfort you for once, letting go of some of the stubborn guilt that tried eating away at you. It was warm and comfortable, and right now, nothing sounded better than a nap. “Right.”

“Get some sleep, ok?” He encourages, pulling away so he can finally look you in the eyes. Pride and warmth swims behind them, and you can’t look away. Eventually you nod, and he flashes a wider smile, bringing your head closer to place another kiss, this time to your temple.

“We’ll all be here when you wake up.” Is his promise. One you know he would always keep.

[fatgothgf]

i will defend starfield, but let it be known, i am playing a pirated copy

i think the game is good but it still isnt worth paying for LOL

when they let me fuck sam coe in the ass on screen ill pay full price for that shit

[foxgirlpauldrons]

sam coe when the bounty hunter decides to side with the pirates instead of the cops that imprisoned her and artificially inflated her bounty for not siding with them

[calico-heart]

Lyrha, the literal ex-pirate, smuggler, and human trafficker:

Sam Coe I assure you she was not

[fangbangerghoul]

Header originally made by @thatsgoodsquishy0

Hello everyone! I am pleased to share a great event we had in our Comrade Coe's Spouses discord server for Valetine's Day!

This server is full of wonderful creatives who all share one thing in common, our love for Starfield. Okay...maybe two and our love for the bisexual single dad space cowboy! We love to support each other in our creative endeavors and to showcase this this post is going to have all the pieces from our Valetine's Day Art Trade!

Each person who signed up was randomly paired with another. We had a channel to fill out a small form of what they preferred, what they were willing to create, and their do's and don'ts in receiving other creations! We allowed about 8 weeks for people to discuss, plan, and create their own masterpieces!

Our server is always open for incoming members and there are only a few things that you need to know before requesting to join.

You must be over 21

You must love or at least appreciate Starfield

And you are joining for a good time, some creative vibes, and with an open mind!

Just tap or click on the link embedded in the server's name above for more information on how to join!

banner made by @bearlytolerant

Everything you will see below is crafted by a member of our server! There will be links to their Tumblr and ao3 links to check more of their work out!

Please feel free to show their blogs some love and their fics on ao3 as well! You can also check out their other works under the tag The Coemancer Crew. One of the core values of our community is supporting each other's creative pieces and we hope you all would love to participate in doing the same!

@atonalginger's

Anton x Sam Astral Haze

@thatsgoodsquishy0's

From Death; A Life

You almost died. Sam's grateful you're alive.

“Wait until Constellation hears about this,” you say, accompanied by a shaky laugh. “I wonder if they’ll even believe us.” He shakes his head. “They should, they don’t have to. We were there. We survived. You survived. That’s all that matters in my book.” His realism brings your gaze to the table, though a swirl of gratitude rises in the back of your mouth, coming out in a weak smile. This was nice. Peaceful, but not enough. There was still untouched territory to discuss. You lift your head, eyes soft and sincere. Unsure. “I wouldn’t be here without your help, Sam.” A pink flush spreads across his cheeks as he smiles. Averting his gaze, his pupils dart across the wall, and you notice they focus on nothing in particular. He shuts his eyes, and you suspected he was replaying the evening. You cock your head, curious. If you could pry open the contents of Sam Coe’s brain, you would, and you would soak up everything about that man, a fact you hadn’t truly believed until tonight.

@fangbangerghoul's

Crimson Slut

@bearlytolerant's

Paint It Crimson

Delgado is tired of Ghoul not resting so he takes matters into his own hands. His attempt means trying to teach her a new hobby.

She chuckles and he chooses not to engage any longer. He’s been toyed with enough. Even if that’s what they do. Argue and bicker. Pull their claws and bare their fangs until eventually he walks away with enough of his pride beaten down, dragging his ego behind him a little broken and worse for wear. It happens often enough that he can’t say he always comes out the winner. But he is weary of the game today. He wants to be nice. Try to be nice. He is determined to be nice. Another step and he reaches around her head and tugs at the blindfold. The knot unravels. Unfurls. He removes it in one smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. Then he thumbs her chin, tilting her head up to get a good glimpse of her. He gazes into her citrine eyes. The warm glow from his hanging lamp, hovering over the tall snake tongued leaves of the sansevieria in the corner of the room, reflects off her irises and they glimmer and shine just like a gemstone. Thoughts waxing poetic, he blinks them away before he speaks them aloud. “I wanted to surprise you.” He releases her chin.

@silurisanguine's

So coy

@eridanidreams's

Twisted Towards the Light

Seren and Sam run into a little bit more excitement than they expected when taking down Tawny Adams...

Sam leaned against the wall. "We having fun yet?" He was breathing a little harder than usual; she gave him a quick once-over, but his suit seemed intact. He caught her look and gave her the grin she'd come to love. "I know you like what you see," he purred, "but maybe look a little less like you want to rip my suit right off until we're done? Mercs might get the wrong idea." Seren couldn't help but laugh. "Arse," she growled. "And a fine one," he agreed. "Though yours," he eyed her up and down, "might be even finer. Pity that your suit hides it, or we could do a real close comparison. Hands-on, even." "Focus, Sam," she reminded him, hitting the 'cycle' button. "Bad guys that way." "I am focused," he said, sounding innocent as the day was long. (In the case of this misbegotten little moon, that was only 4.5 UT hours, so… not all that innocent.) "I'm just a busy man. I have to work in all that quality time of thinking about me and you."

[silurisanguine]

A year playing with my main spacefarer : Seren Jones.

Wannabe businesswoman, whistleblower and then dusty. Became a spacefarer and found her soulmate only for everything to be taken from her. Walked into Unity to try and find it again and has been searching since. But each universe, when ever there is a certain spacecow boy, she is drawn to him, even when he's not her Sam. It makes each universe a little easier to bare until she finds the one she can call home once more.

[bearlytolerant]

a stolen moment

[atonalginger]

The cast of a story I'm working on, the one I shared a snippet of on Wednesday.

Top Left: Cooper Benbow, hotshot pilot for Freestar Militia Top Middle: Goose, adopted son of Starborn!Sam and Lila, decorated captain in the Crimson Fleet Top Right: Ruby. adopted daughter of Starborn!Sam and Lila, former xenowarfare test subject, maybe part siren Bottom Left: Delgado. Face of the Crimson Fleet, really, really, done with Ashta's shit Bottom middle: Lila Aiza - Coe, Starborn, "Atomic Autumn", cyber runner, master spook, Pirate Queen, not one to fuck with Bottom RIght: Sam Coe, Starborn, "Ashta Morph", Pirate King, Done with Delgado's shit. shot fuse, will stop at nothing to protect his family.

[x3no9]

A lot more Jaylen Pryce. Biker and Outlaw versions. Love him!

[spookyspecterino]

STARFIELD MASTERLIST

🧡 Mature Teens | 💛 SFW | My AO3

💛 "Grunt Work" | GN! Reader

Reader and Sam Coe go to Tau Ceti II to check up on the settlers in the Tau Gormet Production Center.

💛 "Left Behind" | GN! Reader

Seemingly out of nowhere, you ask Sarah to go out exploring with you instead of Sam one day. He’s clueless as to why, until he talks to Barrett. After realizing his mistake, he’s determined to close this rift between you and him.

💛 "You'll Be Ok" | GN! Reader

While exploring, you get injured. Sam cares for you.

💛 "For the Drinking and the Dancing" | GN! Reader

Your night with Sam and Walter at the Astral Lounge may be the first time you can sit down and have a drink together.

💛"Soft Moments in the Stars" | GN! Reader

Staring out into the stars, while everyone sleeps, your mind starts to worry. Sam notices you're awake and stays up with you.

💛"Confessions" | GN! Reader

Two short stories of times when you and Sam tell each other I love you.

💛"New You" | Sam Coe x GN! Reader x Delgado

You're there to watch as the pirates you've worked beside for months are taken to prison. They have a few things they'd like to say.

💛 "Card Game" | Sam Coe x GN! Reader

A game of blackjack with Barrett, Andreja, and Sam gets interesting.

💛"Gentle Promises in the Dark" | Sam Coe x GN! Starborn! Reader

Sam asks what your future plans are. Will you leave him in search for another universe or stay behind?

💛 "Lost in the Stars" | Sam Coe x GN! Old Earth! Reader (ongoing)

When you get transported to a strange new city where nothing looks like home, or even Earth, one or two people are more than a little curious about your arrival.

💛 "Pieces of Me, Locked Away" | Delgado x GN! Reader (ongoing)

After you turned in the Crimson Fleet you find yourself unable to return to the person you once were before going undercover. You do your best to find closure, even if it leads you straight to ruin.