#Starfield fanfiction

[margowritesthings]

sam coe headcanons (18+ minors dni)

sam is so vocal in bed. he's a fuck baby, what're you doin to me? kinda guy, a low, visceral moan deep in your ear when he pushes into you for the first time. it's a bit of a problem when you're on the ship, trying to keep him quiet enough not to be heard, but when you catch those little glimmers of privacy, it is heaven.

he rarely uses your real name, in or out of bed, preferring m'love or darlin' or baby. he loves it when you say his name, though, caught on a sigh that tickles his ear when he touches you oh so softly.

he acts like a man starved when it comes to your touch. any touch, though you'll never find a more peaceful sam than one cuddling you while you give him gentle scalp scratches. he likes contact with you, tangling you fingers under the table at the lodge during meetings or running a finger up and down your arm when you're sitting together at the bar.

his self appointed purpose in life is to keep his girls safe. you and cora are his universe, and he's fiercely protective of both of you. he's a where is my wife kind of man, a get your hands off her soul. he'll drop 15 spacers where they stand for trying to hurt you, then he'll growl mine into your ear a thousand times over while he claims you body and soul.

sam coe cannot believe his luck. he wakes up to the sight of you sleeping soundly beside him and wonders what he did to deserve you. sometimes he worries that you're too good for him, that he never will truly deserve you, but he sees the way your eyes light up just as bright when your eyes fall on him, and he knows all he can ever do to be enough is keep that light shining forever. it's his offering to humanity, really, being the only one to make you smile like that.

a/n: oh no i've fallen for this man and i can't get up. anyways, i now write fics for sam coe x reader, so if you have any requests send em in! i have a few ideas i'm gonna work on soon, but these headcanons wouldn't leave me alone so i'm letting them loose to bug you guys too

divider by @saradika

[eridanidreams]

Snippet Sunday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson and @constellation-2330

Yes, I have a snippet today! While I work on finishing up the current chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand, here's something I was inspired to write the other day, from a future chapter.

Sam put his hand to the door and hesitated, reluctance rolling off him in waves. Cait laid a hand on his arm. "Love," she said softly, "we don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I don't," he admitted. "But... gettin' married here is kind of a Coe tradition." He let out a little huff. "Which is why I _didn't_ marry Lillian here." He gave her a wry little smile. "Bad luck, that. Or so goes the family tradition."

Cait couldn't quite keep the skepticism out of her voice. "You think that's why..." she trailed off, aware she was treading on shaky ground; fortunately, Sam just chuckled.

"No, darlin', I think things didn't work out with Lillian because it was never meant to be. You, though—" he wrapped his free arm around her and gave her a quick kiss. "Feel like I used up all my luck finding you. Not sure I want to push it any further." He let out another sigh. "Might also be nice to make some _good_ memories here. Make it feel like a home again."

"Okay, then." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I've got your back, you know?"

"Always," he reassured her, and pushed the door open.

Jacob was truculent as ever. "I wanted to see my granddaughter, not your... latest fling." his growl trailed off as he saw Sam's arm wrapped around Cait.

"Latest fling?" Cait said lightly, before the stress fracturing Sam's spirit could flash into anger. "That's nicer than 'Constellation lackey,' if not by much." She looked up at her lover as if Jacob weren't even there. "Sam, what does a lackey do anyway? Sarah didn't cover that in my orientation."

"'Cause you're way too much of a smartass to make a good lackey," Sam replied, just as lightly. The tension inside him released enough to let him find a semblance of his usual good humor. His arm tightened briefly around her waist as she sensed his brief flash of gratitude.

"Well," she said cheerily, "that just makes me perfect for you, doesn't it?"

Sam chuckled again, but quickly grew serious. While he wasn't as acidly angry as he usually was when talking to Jacob, there was no give in his voice or face. "The phrase you're looking for is _future wife_."

Shock flashed through Jacob, a bolt of lighting that burned through his usual sour resentment to wake something colder, sharper. "I would hope," Cait said gently, in an attempt to divert his usual vitriol, "that whatever else might lie between the two of you, you could be happy for Sam."

"Happy?" Jacob's eyes widened incredulously. "You expect me to be happy to see *my son* tricked into wedlock by some half-alien tramp?"

Sam's jaw set; his whole body tensed, and his rage roiled down her tie to him in a molten tide. Before he could say anything, Cait pivoted to put herself between the two men. She met Sam's eyes—whatever he saw in hers sent a shock of worry through the anger. She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. "Sam," she said, as levelly as she could manage, "Why don't you go meet Cora down at Sinclair's, maybe go for some Chunks? I'll call you when I'm ready to head back to the ship." Sam didn't argue the point; he paused in the doorway just long enough for her to pick up the complicated knot of emotions—anger, frustration, resignation, even a little savage satisfaction—then let the door fall closed behind him. Cait turned to face the room's other occupant.

"Don't think I'll spare your feelings just because he's not here to run interference for you," Jacob growled. Despite the assurance in his voice, he was anything but confident. She smelled his uncertainty like an ashta scenting blood.

"He doesn't need to worry about what you might do to me," Cait said dismissively. "I can handle a bitter old man like you in my sleep." She looked around the living room with the air of one who found it distinctly wanting. Just to make sure she'd seen what she'd thought she had… and the confirmation shredded the leash of her temper. She whipped her head back around to face him. "Tell me," she snarled, "what kind of father goes to these kind of lengths to make sure his son *forgets his mother's face?*"

"He needed to see the reality of the situation," Jacob said dismissively. "Better that he didn't have any unnecessary reminders."

"What you mean," she hissed, putting words to the emotions that writhed serpentine beneath his skin, "is that you didn't want to be reminded that she betrayed you. She left you alone. And you gave up *so much*. Respect. Influence. Power. After all, the government needed a Coe at the helm, didn't it?"

"That's right." He got up in her face, trying to stare her down. "Not that you would *understand* that kind of responsibility. God knows my son never did."

"He was never a son to you," she lashed back. "He was just a vessel for your ambitions. Grooming him to be your successor without a thought or a care as to what he wanted."

"It wasn't his *place* to want!" Jacob's face reddened. "I am his *father*. It was his job to sit down and do what he was told. Just like I did when I was his age."

"Lucky for you Sam doesn't think that way." Cait met his glare, knowing that her eerie gaze disturbed him—for once, she was not at all upset by it. He was the one to look away. "The *only* reason you've been getting time with Cora is because she wants it. And you have me—yes, the 'half-alien tramp'—to thank for that." He opened his mouth to say something; she just kept going. "Don't bother—I know just how much you'd mean it." She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. "Make no mistake, Jacob Coe, if I even get a *whiff* that you've done something to hurt that little girl, Sam won't find out about it, because I will take you apart myself."

Jacob paled and took a step back. "She's my *granddaughter*. I wouldn't—"

"I've seen what you did to your *son* because he wasn't what you wanted him to be. Forced him into a mold that didn't suit him. Belittled him with every breath. Made sure he *knew* he would never be good enough for you." Cait advanced on him. "I've stood right beside him, multiple times, listening to you spit your bile right into his face. You treat him like ashta crap, and you still expect him to lick your boots."

"If you can't show your worst side to your family, who _can_ you show it to?" he sneered.

The dark, dangerous part of her coiled up from the back of her mind at the thought of how much, and how badly, this man had damaged her Sam, and the barest wisp of it seeped into her voice. "Try the mirror." He actually flinched away from her. "Understand this, old man. You are not dealing with just Sam anymore. So keep a civil tongue in your head." Her eyes bored into his; he stared back as if caught in a basilisk's gaze. Her voice was deadly soft. "You don't want me to think you're a danger to my family." Before she could be tempted to say anything worse, she pulled her eyes away from his.

Jacob half-staggered back with the sudden release. "Is—is that a threat?" He tried to regain his usual bluster, but it was a threadbare cover over his sudden fear.

"A promise." Cait gave him a thin, ironic smile. "And a soon-to-be-Coe keeps her promises."

His hands curled into fists at his side, impotent fury sizzling through him, replacing the fear on his face. "I don't know what you did to get your hooks into my son, but—"

"I love him." Cait cut him off. "That simple." She laughed, but there was no real humor in it. "You have no damned idea what a gem you threw away." She tilted her head at a sudden thought. "Of course you wouldn't. You may have sired him, Jacob, but in every way that matters, Sam is *Solomon's* true son. You? You're just a petty, shriveled bureaucrat coasting on the laurels of your famous ancestor."

She turned and walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the frame. Over her shoulder, she said, "Détente, or war to the knife. Your decision." Without waiting for his reply, she stepped out into the Akila rain.

[booburry]

Smutty Sam Coe x GN!Reader One-shot

Thank you @notyourramona for the prompt and for @squidgeandsmidge2 for @'ing me to write this.

My reaction to what I have written in a single gif:

18+ - Minors DNI (for the love of god)

HELLA NSFW

Content warnings in the read more. (To protect the children)

Setup: Dom Sam / Submissive Reader

A/N: this is, honest to god, the first x reader fic I have written. I always wanted to try but for some reason I was always too nervous. I tried very hard to have this come off as GN. I apologize if I missed any details or described some things awkwardly. I'm sure y'all will still enjoy it! 🥵🤠

Will crosspost to A03.

CW: Choking, Deep throat, Dom/Sub, Forceful Movement's, suffocating on some dick and just all around dirty.

“That should be the last of them,” Sam called out from behind you, and despite how sweet the sound of that man was, it didn’t distract from the chamber up ahead that held the next artifact you were hunting. You felt yourself hesitate to walk forward, remembering the last artifact you had interacted with. “You don’t have to go through with this.” Sam reminded you as he stepped to your side, obviously not forgetting last time either.

You recalled Sam being more worried than you were. Passing out was something to be expected every time you cracked that artifact free and held it in your hands. The nose bleeds? Convulsions?

Yeah...not so much.

You looked up towards the man you had grown increasingly attached to with a smirk.

“So, whatcha say cowboy? One last ride?” You asked as he just chuckled before glancing toward you.

“You know I could never say no to that, but this won’t be the last time.” He warned as he delicately removed his hat, only to carelessly toss it aside.

“Promises, promises.” You teased him, your fingers slowly undoing the buttons to your shirt, excited for what came next—this tradition of yours was always better, and safer, in a world that had an atmosphere.

Sam reached out and grabbed your hand, a certain glint behind his eye that told you the way he wished today to go. Slowly you raised your hands, surrendering to his sly glance. He absently licked his lips before stepping forward, gripping your half-open shirt and, with one simple swipe, ripped it open.

“I need clothes!” You stated in shock, looking down to see your chest exposed. Sam, seemingly, took this distraction to press you firmly against the cool wall of the cave, forcing your face to life up to his with one hand, while you heard him start unbuckling his belt with the other.

“With all the shit you make me carry around,” he kissed your jaw, “I’m sure we can find,” he gave you another, moving closer along your neck towards your lips, “something decent for you to walk back to the ship with.” He completed, pulling away from you unexpectedly, your lips lightly puckered in anticipation for his own. He just smiled. “First, I would like those elsewhere, darlin’”

He told you, his smile turning into a smirk as you felt him push down on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees and a sultry, excited smile spread across yours as one of your favourite things came into your view—Sam Coe’s hard, delicious and throbbing cock.

It, reliably, was always happy to see you too.

Before having to give any further demands, you understood your role and played it with enthusiasm. Using only your tongue, you licked from the base of his shaft to the tip, wrapping the head of his cock within your lips. You sucked in your lips as you glanced upwards, seeing how irresistible you were to him in this moment.

Immediately his hand reached down you grab as much of your hair as he could, giving you a light tug as a warning before he rocked his hips against your face, pressing the back of your head against the cave wall and his entire cock down your throat. You felt your reflex kick in as he pinned you there, without breath, his cock twitching inside you, before he pulled back and let you gasp in a breath—small strings of spit, phlegm and cum staying connected between you and his cock.

Two gulps of air and you were ready again, eagerly smiling as you felt Sam grip your hair once again. This time, as he gagged you again with the length, spreading you with his girth, you started to play with yourself. Maybe Sam noticed, or maybe he just wanted more of you, but you felt him tilt your head to look up at him, his dominant and pleased expression greeting you.

“Tongue out.” He ordered, and you quickly obeyed. He slid his cock out of your mouth, taking it within his hand and slapping the tip against your tongue a few times, before going to each cheek—your tongue always out, loving every second of this.

It was rare you two were allowed to be this kinky, to feed your deeper desires, but it was always in these moments before you would get an artifact that it was just the two of you, in the middle of nowhere, with nobody around to hear or see you.

The thought sat blissfully within you as Sam lifted his cock enough to place his balls in your mouth before allowing the shaft of his cock to press against the bridge of your nose.

“Well, darlin’,” he taunted as you knew he watched you being used by him with unrivalled pleasure, knew what he wanted to do next, but you weren’t done. Maybe you would get in trouble for it later, but there was nothing like being a little defiant when you knew how well he would destroy you against this wall.

Not wishing to be done in this position, you slid your free hand to press against his taint, Sam letting out a groan of pleasure followed shortly by a growl at you taking control—but that didn’t stop you. Sliding your hand down a little further, pressing against him in a way you knew made him weak.

You released him from your mouth, tilting your chin upwards to, once again, drag your tongue along his length, wrapping your lips around his tip with a sense of déjà vu. The only difference, this time, was the force you applied to him so that you were once again slammed against the cave wall, Sam having no issue with continuing what you started.

Effortless he rocked his hips against you, leaning forward with one arm to brace himself as he deeply, satisfyingly, groaned your name. You felt his pace quickened, your grip on him tightened, determined to get the taste you craved.

“Fu-uck” his voice hitched in his throat as he forced himself against you, your eyes closed, your nostrils blocked, his legs twitching as he filled your throat with his salty, bitter, cum. Staying there for a moment longer, before unpinning you and letting you breathe and cough up whatever you couldn’t manage to swallow.

With you slightly hunched over, about to compose yourself, you felt Sam grab and twist your hips upwards so you were on your knees, ass in the air and face pressed against the cold, wet, stone floor. You heard Sam hum, as if quite pleased with himself at what he saw.

“You still have it in you, hmn?” He asked as he grabbed the base of the toy you had kept in your for the small excursion—it was one of those situations where it was so wrong that it felt...quite right. It was also so worth hearing or seeing, when the position was right, the satisfaction Sam expressed at the sight of your obedience.

It always made all of this a little sweeter.

Sam lightly tugged and repositioned the toy inside you, making you squirm as you naturally spread your legs wider for him.

“I promised if you play nice...” Sam’s speech tapered off, another tug of your toy making you flinch and know he wanted you to finish his sentence for him.

“I get rewarded.” You said with a gasp as you felt Sam roughly remove your toy and replace it, effortlessly, with his tongue. His face pressed between your cheeks, his beard scratching against your skin causing a pleasurable sting as he masterfully moved within you.

Your moan resonates within the open cavern channels, echoing far enough to alert any enemies you may have missed—but you and Sam were careful and, in perfect honesty, you couldn’t care less. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt your legs tense, Sam’s fingers beginning to slide against you, soaking in your precum.

“Sam—” You moan with a sudden hitch as you feel a finger join his tongue only to press against your most sensitive party. The one that, without fail, made you squirm and writhe against him, growing desperate for the rising tension for a release. “Don’t sto—” Your speech, once again, cut off as you moaned at the way he touched you.

Something, in that moment, told you that he didn’t want to hear you speak...at least not words. And...if you play nice then maybe, just maybe, you will get the reward you wanted. Your mouth opened, another desperate moan slowly releasing from your cum lined throat. With every precise stroke, every push of pressure from within you, every firmer and fervent lick of his tongue, you felt closer to climax.

Desperately wishing to call his name, to beg him to let you cum, you just moaned louder, and louder, and louder, until he removed himself completely, leading you to the edge of a cliff but not sending you over.

You audibly whimpered, trying to press backwards in hopes you would meet the same pleasure you had just been wrapped in. Sam’s arm snaked under you, wrapping around your torso to slightly lift you upwards before you fell backwards onto your ass, your back up against a cave wall once more.

Sam kneeled before you, his girthy cock hard and throbbing for you once again, a sickly-sweet grin spreading across his face as he watched you connect what was happening next.

He lifted your legs into the air, enough so that he could comfortably place the head of his cock inside of you. He rested one of your knees onto his shoulder, reaching out his free hand to grip your chin. His eyes squinted as he smiled at you, his cock lightly pressing a little deeper into you. He pulled on your chin, you following his lead and bringing your torso upwards, stretching the limits of your flexibility.

He was inches away from your face, which still had remnants of how he had used you earlier for his pleasure. You watched as his eyes took in everything, his hand releasing you only to wrap around your back to hold you in your bent position.

Sam smiled as he lightly pulled away, his cock barely in you. You tried, desperately, to press against him but it was impossible to do so in the position he held you in, one leg over his shoulder, one off to the side over his, your thighs firmly pinned between his own.

He had you, pinned and in control, and it was only you who just discovered that now.

“Do you really want me to fuck you?” He asked a question with an obvious answer in a tone that alluded to his disbelief in your desire for him and a need for release.

“Yes.” You told him obediently, trying once again to press your thighs closer to his, to make his cock sink deeper into you.

“Hmm,” Sam hummed as he watched you intently, playing his games before you knew he would fuck you senseless. “I’m not convinced.” You looked at him darkly, your eyes heavy as you suddenly felt done with this charade. You grabbed onto his thick locks, holding harder than you should in order to bring some pain.

“Fuck me until I am screaming.” You commanded of him, Sam taking a moment to analyze the shift in control. It was something that always happened when he pushed you too far, when you were left on the edge for too long and had grown desperate.

Sam always took it as the moment he broke through you—his favourite part.

You felt him fill you, the force of that motion causing your body to naturally rock backwards and slam, once again, back into his cock. Every time he pressed in, you returned on the backswing, a motion and sensation that made every muscle in your body twitch.

“When did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” He asked you, your hand immediately moving against yourself, only bringing a set of new sensations that clashed against the rest. He kissed you, pushing you both backwards so you were firmly against the cave wall, Sam leaning over you. He placed his hands on your thighs, bearing his weight down with every passionate and deliberate thrust.

You remembered, as your eyes rolled back in your head and you let loose a primal, guttural, groan of pleasure, his demand that you don’t stop touching yourself.

He noticed.

“That’s good, darlin’” He purred to you, his body towering over you but you barely noticed at this point. The only thing you felt in this world that the weight of his body, your hand moving rapidly and his cock spreading you with each press.

Your breath quickened, your gasps of air short and desperate as you felt yourself pushed to that edge again. You managed to look at Sam, a desperate, pleading, look—wordlessly begging him to make you cum.

With a smirk and a particularly forceful thrust, you felt your whole body shake and shiver, your hole tightening around his, still hard and throbbing, cock as you finally climaxed.

But Sam wasn’t finished with you.

Ripples of pleasure and pain coursed through you as Sam continued to fuck you with new vigor, your cum slowly covering his cock as it slid in and out of you. He didn’t make you continue to touch yourself at this point, he knew you were spent, but that didn’t mean he was done using you.

A notion you were more than happy with.

You continued to gasp as he thrust in and out of you, the sweat on his brow forming and you knew he was close. You looked at him, eyes hooded, begging him to press forward and fill you one more time for the evening.

That look seemed to do him in, as he immediately collapsed against your body, his muscles twitching against you, his cock inside you. As you felt a warmth fill you inside, a pleased, happy and tired smile spread across your lips.

Sam took a few moments to collect himself before he slowly pulled away, releasing you from his command, and immediately revering you with a soft, doting, loving glance.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He immediately offered, combing his hair back with his hands before putting on his hat—the notion making you laugh, although it was a weak one, given the complete lack of energy you had left.

“Maybe this was why last time was so bad.” You noted, speaking of the last artifact you had touched. “You tire me out too much before we go in.” Sam looked at you curiously before giving a soft nod and looking back at your gear.

“That is a thought...are you asking me to go easy on you next time?” He asked with a chuckle as he returned to you with everything you needed for an aftercare package.

First, he gave you some water and placed a few chunks next to you for when you were ready to eat. Then, he started to wipe you down, starting with your face, then your thighs and then the rest of your body. You felt him playfully tickle you in some of your sensitive spots, each flinch bringing out a childish giggle from him.

You lay there, eating your chunks, staring at the man while being absolutely stunned by his duality.

One moment he was slamming you up against a cave wall, shocking his cock down your throat.

The next, he was tickling you, giggling and lovingly taking care of you.

“Not a chance.” You finally replied, getting lost in your thoughts before remembering that he had asked you a question.

“Well, we can always rest here for a bit...go for round four and then get you ready for the artifact.” He suggested as he unfolded a shirt for you. “I promise not to rip this one.” He reassured you with a smile.

[therealgchu]

Snippet Sunday - To the Shore Style

been working the main fic lately. got a bit more to write up, then should have a new chapter friday. the narrative is kinda vignette-y because instead of actual, straight-through events, it's setting up the next story arc. but, it's all thematically the same. the next chapter will be called Home.

that said, tagging the coemancer crew for snippets today. share 'em if you got 'em.

if you wanna read To the Shore from the beginning, it lives here on ao3.

my other works are here on ao3.

little wee sneaky peeky

Her lips fell into a moue. “What?” he asked when he saw her expression.

“Umm…I don’t actually care for cake very much,” she answered.

“WHAT? How can you not like cake?” Sam demanded incredulously. “Everyone likes cake! It’s delicious!”

“I’m not fond of sweets, in general,” she explained. “It’s not that I dislike it, it’s just not something I go out of my way to eat.”

“Oh my god. My opinion of you has totally changed. What’s wrong with you?”

“The fact I don’t like cake very much is what has finally convinced you I’m crazy?” she laughed. “Not my abandonment issues, or how I grew up, or that I can’t relate to normal people. But, it’s my opinion on cake that’s finally keyed you in?”

He held up his hands, “Hey, relating to normal people is overrated. That’s not what’s beyond the pale…”

“But not liking cake is?” she asked.

“I’m not the one that said it,” Sam countered.

After a moment of studying him, she declared, “Sam Coe, you are a very strange person.”

He shook his head in disbelief, “I’m not the one that doesn’t like cake.”

[a-cosmic-elf]

Sunday Snippets

It’s been so long since I shared something new, and I needed to write this today. It’s just where my head needed to be.

It’s very rough, unedited, no grammar check or beta read, straight off the cuff. I just needed to get something off my chest.

No pressure tags for The Coemancer Crew. Thank you for tagging me in all your wips.

Last week I retired my Starfield OC, Calitrix. She found her forever home. This is from the end of her story. 🥲 I hope you enjoy!

What We Leave Behind

A Starborn Coemancer by a cosmic elf.

“Not far now,” said the Emissary.

Trix looked at him. Now they were here, back down on this planet. In front of the base that held the buried temple, as she had done many times before, she began to realise. There was something different about this Emissary. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to push her curiosity to the back of her mind.

The Starborn ambush wasn’t really an ambush if you expected it. These days Trix always opted to go high. Before long, they reached the doors of the base, with Andreja in her Constellation suit, bringing up the rear.

“This is it,” the Emissary told her, “hold nothing back.”

“When have you ever known me to hold anything back?” Trix replied, without thinking.

“You have a point,” he conceded, for the first time a flicker of emotion in his voice that sent a pain of longing through Trix’s heart.

Once inside, Trix ignored the bodies, and locked doors, moving directly for the first anomaly, she ran head first into her past. She jogged past Lin and Hellar endlessly debating without stopping this time. I’ll see you again, my friends, I promise. She never reached the artifact, she stepped back through the anomaly and into the base at the buried temple once more.

“The Temple is testing you, always.” The Emissary said.

“I know,” said Trix.

The Emissary paused, “Sorry, I forgot,” his voice cracked, “Noble Starborn.”

Trix was now sure. She had heard that voice before, she recognised it even under all the modulation. This Emissary was none other than Sam Coe.

If only it was her Sam.

The next fight was long and tough, but soon, another Starborn was dust and echos.

Trix spent some time with a locked case, but found it to contain only junk. She wasn’t sure why she was bothering with it at this stage, so close to the Unity, but the thought crossed her mind that she could leave everything of value she had collected this run in the ship’s hold for her crew after she had gone. It was something at least. If poor compensation for being dumped by their captain. Again, at least from her perspective.

Trix had done it more times now than she cared to think about. Always jumping in the hope that this time… what exactly? That she would find her forever home? She feared that perhaps she had already left it behind and there was no going back.

She missed Sam so much. Missed his smile. His carefree disposition. How easy it was to be around him, to always have someone to talk to, to be hold and be held. She missed his attention, his teasing, his need for her. Why that had gone away, or when, she couldn’t fathom. She thought hard and tried to remember where it had all changed.

The first time she had reached the Unity, their time together had not been perfect. She wished that she had done things better, that they could have their time over again and that it would be different, that she would be the Trix he deserved.

The whole time, they had promised each other that they would go through the Unity together. To face whatever it was and whatever was to come, united as a family, Sam, Cora and her.

But then she fired up the drive and met herself. There was a Starborn Trix in the Unity. Trix couldn’t understand why. Were they her future? They didn’t sound like her. Maybe they were the Creators, and it was just the way her mind interpreted the information. Or maybe, Trix in another universe always did sound like that, and therefore it was her fate to jump, because she always has done. But what about Sam?

He was there. Standing in the Unity. He looked at her but didn’t acknowledge her. It was heartbreaking, almost frightening. Trix hated every moment of it, especially the confirmation that they would not be jumping together. That he, Cora and everyone else on the ship would be left behind. That he would one day, jump himself, without her, to who knows where.

Trix couldn’t take it. She could face life without him. So when her Starborn self gave her a choice to go back to him, she took it. After everything they had done and been through together, she would not sacrifice what they had for the Unity. To hell with eternity.

She turned and walked away. She walked back to him.

And, shockingly, he didn’t seem to care. He brushed off her return like it was nothing. Spoke something about how they would all reach the Unity eventually, but for now, this would have to do. He seemed non-plused and unaffected by her choice, or the sacrifice she had just made - the refusal of knowledge, all for them. She’d never felt so disappointed. Here was the proof. He would always put reaching the Unity ahead of their lives together.

That was the moment when she realised she could jump, jump and find him again. But a new Sam, a different Sam and do it right this time. Perhaps this Sam belonged to her, one that cared.

And he did, the second time around, oh how he cared. Probably too much. But now Trix was Starborn, and Sam would never understand, not unless he jumped and left her. One day, she was sure that he would. Curiosity would get the better of him, and one day, whether she jumped or he did, she would lose this Sam too.

She couldn’t bear it. The thought was too much. So she jumped on what would have been their wedding night.

And now, Starborn, several times over, she was about to jump again. Only for the first time in a long time, the Emissary had sounded like Sam. All the old feelings were bubbling to the surface. She just had to hold it all together, just this one last time.

Trix was busy emptying all the crap out of her pockets when this Emissary, the one with Sam’s voice, half-ran over to her position and startled her.

Her hands fumbled in her pockets and she dropped a key.

The Lodge Key.

It was a key like all others, but instantly recognisable to those who knew.

Trix paused, the Emissary stared for a moment down at the key. A sharp audible breath left their helmet.

Trix couldn’t stand it any more. Having become accustomed to always wearing her own Starborn suit, for the first time in as long as she could remember, she removed her helmet and looked at him. Looking for something, anything that would tell her that this is the man she knew.

The Emissary groaned, “You have no idea how long I have waited to see that look in your eyes, Trix. Jumping from one universe to the next hoping that this time… I don’t know if it’s you, I mean, my you. But…” He took his helmet off and dropped it. His face was thin, his hair and beard short and streaked with grey. His blue eyes, ringed dark with age and time, were full of tears. He held out his arms to her, “close enough!”

Trix flew into his embrace and they kissed so fiercely, ike it was the last thing they would do in this life.

There it was, the thing that had been missing for so long. The feeling she had searched for, and it wasn’t through the Unity. It was right here in front of her. They had seen and heard each other. It had caused that pull, the undeniable attraction, from which neither could escape. That divine rush of endorphins as they gave into it, the need to touch, feel, hold and taste him, and to feel that same need in return. That was what she had been looking for all along.

Her heart sang with pure joy.

Andreja caught up with the pair, and stood awkwardly off to one side, “Umm, okaaay. So… we’re kissing the Emissary now. And oh, hey Sam, good to see you, I guess… I’ll er… be just over here if you need me.”

[notyourramona]

I need a one shot of Sam x reader having very aggressive smutty times that involves a wall of a cave, feral vibes and end with soft lovely aftercare

[fangbangerghoul]

photo used for banner by: @labelle-fleursauvage Below is a masterpost of my Sam Coe centered fics, all links lead to Ao3 all fics MDNI, 18+, heed the tags please

Starfield Fanfiction, Sam Coe edition:

One Shots/Reader Fics:

Capacity Limit (Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: Bondage, Cannon Violence

Reader and Sam Coe are on a mission to eliminate Spacers and Reader keeps picking up too much shit.

Tear You Apart (Pirate Sam Coe x fem!reader) 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.

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.

soft leather and spurs (softdom!Sam x fem!reader) Tw: praise kink, soft breeding kink, language?

You are leaving the bar for the night after playing a game of let's meet like strangers with your favorite cowboy.

gameshot by me (one of the few I have ever taken lol)

Ghoul series: The fics chosen from the Ghoul series are ones that heavily include Sam Coe. (will be updated in the future)

1. Neon City Delights (completed)TW: Drug use, SA, Cannon Violence

Walter Stroud has finally decided to talk to you (Main character) like you are a person at Constellation. So, to prove to yourself and the companion the association has assigned to you as of late, Sam Coe, you now get to walk the streets of your hometown to complete a mission with your lead. What happens at the Astral Lounge doesn't need to be told, right?

2. Settling with the Stars(completed)TW: Cannon Violence, Alcohol

Being grounded to a planet is worse when you know you could be out doing something better with your time. Sarah Morgan wants our main character to lay low while others have been out doing quests of their own. How has our main character been settling with their down time since their near-death experience at Neon City?

Bonus story:

Ghoul Adventures (Halloween edition, on hiatus)

This Halloween edition of Starfield tales takes our Main Character and some of the crew of Constellation on a spelunking adventure in search of what is causing all of the spooky rumors at the local citizen outpost.

[lisa-and-shadow]

Here is a Starfield fanfic I wrote about a beloved NPC, Frank Renick. So if you're interested in some fluffy smut about our favorite surly Colony War veteran, happy Valentines Day!! 💝 💕

Here's our boy 😍💜

[thatsgoodsquishy0]

Pairing: F!Reader x Ranger!Sam Coe Rating: M+ Bio: Set during Sam’s younger years working as a Freestar Ranger alongside his wife, Lillian Hart. Whether circumstance, or impossible luck, you're given a second chance at life, ultimately growing close to The Coes. You take a shine to Cora, but the family dynamic is something else entirely, albeit a little overwhelming, as you realize the toll Lillian's absence has taken on the family, but more specifically, her husband. Sam Coe is witty, charming, and ambitious; a man who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to reach his goals, but when his wife seems to prioritize her career over her family, it's hard not to notice the strain growing inside him. Your friendship may be just the support Sam needs, even if the temptations for something more linger, and when your past threatens your future, where will your morals lie? Will you end up back where you started? Chemistry is a cruel mistress

cross-posted to AO3 credit to @seracoe for the lovely Ranger Sam pic & @cafekitsune for the divider & @fangbangerghoul and @bearlytolerant for their unwavering support and feedback. thank you so much!! <3

i. BOUND

Your wrists were bound behind your back. Scratchy twine rubbed against your skin as you wiggled your hands. Alarms blared overhead. Your head rolled as your vision bobbed. Your knees were sore. You remembered the cruelty of your captor’s instructions to never sit or lay down; you could only kneel. Through the slits of your eyes you barely registered the urgency amongst the crew as they bounced around the cockpit, like bugs inside a terrarium.

“Fuck! Fuck! They’re headed towards —- !” a bloodied scream, cracks of gunfire, liquid gurgles over the intercom.

“They just wasted Fredericks!”

“How the fuck did they find us?!”

The rope chaffed against your wrists; a sick reminder that escape was futile.

You looked to your left. Your eyes shot wide and a deep, guttural scream left your throat as you met the endless stare of a dead woman. In refuge, you looked to your right. Another dead one greeted you just as forcibly. You flinched, averted your eyes, but in the darkness behind your eyelids the horror remained; splashes of red staining her hair, the ghostly whites of her eyes, mouth frozen in a permanent scream, the ugly circle in the middle of her forehead.

The kidnapper’s rampant states evolved to a frenzy as they darted their desperation towards you, like a missile locking onto a target. Shots continued past your range of sight, but you heard them; muffled and close.

One of the kidnapper's charged towards you, gun in hand.

Your mind in fragments, you tried your best to stand before they could reach you, but the kneeling rendering your knees useless. You fell forward, sharp pains stabbing your kneecaps as you fumbled up again. A woman delivered a shift kick to your stomach. You groaned and toppled back, your trapped wrists splashing against the puddle of wet blood.

“You did this, didn’t you?! ” the woman bellowed. “Who’d you send for?! Huh?!” She grabbed a fistful of your hair, locking her venomous glare against your quivering lips as you chased an answer on your tongue.

She yanked harder. “Answer me, you fucking rat!”

You opened your mouth and willed yourself to speak, but the words abandoned you. Tears pooled in your eyes.

Fed up with your sloppiness, the woman growled and released her grip. You stumbled back, falling on your side as you caught yourself from landing on your wrists, hair dipping into the red liquid. She cocked her gun. You squeezed your eyes shut. Sweat beaded atop your forehead, its saltiness mixing with the metallic stench of your hair as the tarnished concoction trickled down your face like runny hair dye. You felt the bloodied strands of hair gently brushed aside, making way for the cold barrel as it pushed into your forehead. You thought you heard the trigger click in anticipation. Your heartbeat convulsed inside your chest.

Then — a hatch opened. Two gun blasts. Bam! Bam!

The gun clattered against the floor, followed by a thud!

You popped open your eyes. The woman’s lifeless body lie face down beside your shoes, her brown rats nest a bloodied mess as crimson fluids leaked from her head across the floor. Your breathing blew out in bursts, in and out. Violent gulps of air choked your throat and stung your chest as you struggled frantically to break free from the restraints while hastily hauling yourself to a corner. Your stomach churned as you worked your wrists, the grip seeming to shrink tighter, down to the bone with every pull. The alarm sang like a sick cheer for your escape as you thrashed your wrists against the floor, screaming, wailing, fighting for absolution.

You curled into a fetal position, the pain from the kick resigning in your stomach as you felt your will crumble into hopelessness, like the last survivor on a sinking ship.

There was no direction for your gaze as you shut your eyes.

“Hey – hey -- stay with me now.”

Beneath your trembling, that anxious voice reached you, as if it were coaxing you along a bridge across treacherous waters.

Your mouth fell open, bottom lip shaking as any formation of a sentence betrayed you. You mustered a weak gasp as a man approached. His face was rugged, but determined as he peered down upon you, upon your sanguine soaked forehead. He sported a cowboy hat that seemed to provide a shadow against his face. His brows were thick and furrowed together as his hands attempted to reach the sides of your face. You suspended your gaze and tucked your body away from the room. Away from him.

“Ain’t gonna hurtcha!” he remarked, his voice silent amid the screaming buzzer. “Just wanna make sure y’ain’t bleedin’ a ton!”

Your throat was drier than a vase of forgotten flowers; tongue just as tied as the wrists behind your back — a spot the man captured quickly as he assessed your predicament. You heard the flick of a pocketknife and quickly looked up. A woman stepped into the room. She lowered her gun, but kept her finger above the trigger. A golden glint on her chest caught your eye. Your stomach dropped. Police?

Suddenly, you feared for your life again.

“Sam, don’t untie her just yet! We have no idea which side she’s on!”

“Pretty clear to me which side!”

“It could be a trap!” The woman stepped closer, her gaze fidgeting around the room as they hollered against the ringing. “This could be their ploy!”

“She’s banged up pretty bad, Lillian, and she can’t use her hands. Clearly, she couldn’t grab a weapon even if she tried!”

“I just don’t know about this, Sam!”

“You took a chance on a reckless kid once, and despite how you found him, things turned out pretty damn fine!”

The woman located the gun closest to you and immediately kicked it across the room. The man continued to hold his unsheathed pocket knife. The blade gave a serrated smile.

“Just trust me, alright?!”

She took a sharp breath, a sigh, then removed her finger from the trigger as she lowered the gun all the way. “Alright! Fine! We’ll take her back with us, get her all patched up, then ask her some questions! See what she knows!”

“Yes ma’am!” You caught a glimpse of a tiny smile swathed in success as the man leaned across your body and began to cut into the twine. Your hands trembled.

“Hold still!” he yelled, sawing through the restraints.

Your heart raced. What if the blade sliced through your skin by accident? You remained completely still, patient, until finally, the ropes snapped off.

You instinctively rubbed the twisted indentations embedded in your skin. Despite your hands being freed, you still couldn’t bring yourself to move, or speak. You gazed at your savior, the knife still in his grasp. He considered you with a tilt of his head, his eyes straight-lined with patience as he retracted the knife and slid it back into his pocket. The woman doubled-down on her stance, waiting for your next move. You exhaled, quick and shaky. The man offered his hand, but you didn’t take it, then he slowly crouched beside you, and urged you to stand up, his voice barely comprehensible over the squawking alarm.

You lifted yourself up, unintentionally pressing your hands into the blood of the dead. You withdrew your palms and swung your head around. Splatters of brain matter splashed against the wall and space-viewed windows. Your legs rocked from under you. Vehemently, your head shook in disbelief. You covered your hand atop your mouth and blinked away tears. Before you could look any further out of sheer morbidity, a pair of hands firmly gripped your shoulders and pulled your sight away. The man’s brows etched with concern. His stare linked to yours.

“Don’t look.”

In utter shock, both words swam through your eardrums in smooth, purposeful strokes. and you obeyed, keeping your eyes on him. Your muscles were weak, but appreciative, as you tried again to stand up. The man threw your arm carefully around his shoulder and the woman followed, a grunt passing from her lips as you adjusted to their rescue.

“Don’t make me regret this, okay?” She muttered close to your ear as you exited the cockpit hatch.

Blood rushed from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes. Each blare of the alarm mimicked the pounding in your head, like thousands of birds squawking as they pecked your ears raw.

You whined as you passed under one of the sirens.

The man yelled something, but his voice remained unintelligible, however, you thought maybe he was reassuring you. You lifted your head and peered to your right – the woman focused forward, aware of the next steps as you moved further down the ship. The man adjusted his hold on you, and you caught the faintest scent of cologne mixed with salt and blood. The pounding in your head grew louder, angrier, as they pulled you past their victims. The air smelt of tarnished pennies. The soles of your shoes dragged along the floor through puddles of red, leaving a evidence of a retreat behind as you exited the ship and entered another one.

You were ushered through a series of rooms, each one more scientific than the last, until your body was gently laid onto a cot. Exhaustion consumed you. You battled with your brain to keep your eyelids open as they slowly began to close; not for the sake of sleep, but for asylum against the ringing in your ears. You curled into a ball — the dead woman from the ship accompanying the darkness that began to swallow you.

“Get her a trauma pack.”

“Sam, we only got one left. Once we get to The Rock, Doc will look her over just fine.”

“Then, I’ll buy another one. Lillian, don’t fight me on this.”

There was a long pause, followed by the decrescendo of footsteps, then you heard the faint sound of an object being placed beside you. After a few minutes you heard voices, but the words were too distant to hear or understand, however the tones were defiant, combative. One of them raised their voice, but you couldn’t tell who. Then, they stopped.

Finally, as your body lulled against the rolling ship through space, your heartbeat steadied. Boots softly thudded into your room as you lay on your side, your face against the cool of the ship’s wall.

“I, um – I don’t know if you can hear me, but there's medicine next to ya, if you need it. I’ll be out on the nav-floor if you need anythin’.” He cleared his throat. “Alright then.”

You were grateful, even if tonight stole the words right out of your blood soaked mouth, you saved. Saved from death, from a fate worse than death, from something you’d never experience again, because you had an idea how you ended up here in the place.

Despite this, you tapped the inner recesses of your mind searching for something, anything, hinting whether or not this was a stroke of luck or if someone knew you would be on the spaceship and called for help.

Was this all part of Anton’s plan?

A sudden warmth encompassed you. You set those worries aside and reached your hands forward feeling a softness draped over you. The fabric blanketed your body as you allowed yourself this moment of vulnerability. Anton didn’t exist right now.

You’d use the trauma pack later. You were in need of a shower, too. You scrunched your face, the blossoms of your cheeks popping as you listened to the sickening way the dried blood cracked. Shudders flowed through your warming body. You pushed your appearance aside, craving the nurturing arms of slumber; at least for a little while.

You pulled the blanket closer until it covered the tip of your chin. You licked the dryness off your lips, careful not to lick off any blood that had slid its way down. You parted them, releasing a low breath, a safe breath, as the blanket melted into your body.

You weren’t sure if the man was still there, or if your voice would even reach him, but you knew the second those words left your parched throat, you’d never forget this day, or this man’s unabridged kindness.

In the dark of the spaceship, as the hum of the grave drive soothed your weary muscles and the pillow held your blood soaked head, you sleepily whispered, “Thank you.”

[chasing-chimeras]

I mentioned this a while back but my boyfriend started writing!

If you're interested in reading about a gay space cowboy, I'd really appreciate if you checked out his stuff 🖤 (I can vouch for quality lol it's great and he's an incredible writer!!!)

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday

It is Wednesday and that means a sneak peek of a WIP is in order. I've got a lot of ideas backed up in my head, so what I've got is smaller and rough. Self doubts and all that have been playing merry hell on my ability to consistently sit down and write. I know that might seem odd, considering I've uploaded a handful of oneshots very recently, but I've been sitting on those for a while and just finally decided to offload them.

But we continue on and do our best because that's all anyone can ask for, right?

I'd like to tag @a-cosmic-elf @eridanidreams @staticpallour @aro-pancake and @lisa-and-shadow and anyone else who has something to share. No pressure to post, as always💖

My WIP this week is from the coming Rise of Libertatia series I've been kicking around for a while now. Yes, it's finally happening. Slowly and surely.

--

Things were a mess. One would think someone like Delgado would be used to things falling to shit when he least wanted it to and yet there he was, pacing the floor of his office searching for a solution to the dead man in the middle of his front yard.

The farmhouse was supposed to be a quiet refuge for their growing family. A place for Sophie to play and Bella to raise her fancy chickens with their extravagant crests and dramatic plumage. Where the headaches and drama of stabilizing a criminal enterprise wouldn’t reach. A place where there definitely shouldn't be any dead men face down in the grass.

He just wanted a few months of peace. Bella had been on doctor ordered bed rest and it was everything Rokov and he could do to convince her to relax. Shinya and Jazz were the temporarily in charge of their still unnamed crew, under orders to only come to him if things took a complete nosedive. When Bella went into labor two nights before he even locked the property down to all but a very short list of guests and it was to remain that way until their family had fully adjusted to their newest member. Yet now that damn goon from Neon rested on the grass, feeding the dry soil his worthless blood.

The good news, if one squinted really hard at it, was that Fox witnessed the shooting and, as a ranger, could theoretically clear Delgado and Rokov as neither of them were the gunmen. The bad news was the dead man was Rodney Jenkins, one of Bayu’s personal guard, sent to the farmhouse by Bayu. Shot in the back of the head by another Bayu’s personal guard, Curtis Crawford. Why Curtis felt he needed to wait until they were on Delgado’s property, they still didn’t know. But the ranger was getting to the bottom of it with his deputy in the barn while Delgado and Rokov were forced to wait inside.

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour and @artemis-crimson

I'm late to the party tonight, so enjoy!

from stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Lillian agreed, then took a deep breath. "But Sam, I need something. I need to see my daughter more. These messages, they're just a tease."

"And she misses you," Sam countered, before Cait could draw breath to speak herself. "But, Lillian, the last three times we planned something, you bailed twice. Twice." His jaw set, his eyes burned the hot blue of stars, and his anger fueled the embers of her own. Before it could go out of control again (she'd wanted to—what? the memory had gone up in smoke), she leashed it, channeled it into words.

"Cora knows you're not really invested in her, Lillian," Cait said, choosing every word with exquisite care. "She certainly knows that you put being a Ranger over spending time with her. And pretty soon now, she's going to figure out that you aren't actually interested in your reading club. Right now, she just thinks you're a slow reader."

Lillian flushed. "How dare you say that?"

Cait felt a slow, angry smile cross her face. "Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome: Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you." Lillian still looked confused. "That's only one of the most famous quotes from the book you're supposed to be reading right now."

"Do you have any idea the looks I get when I'm reading Dumas around the other Rangers?" Lillian demanded.

"If you really cared about Cora," Cait said softly, "it wouldn't matter."

"For crying out loud, Lillian," Sam added, "where do you think the whole 'Rangers always have each other's back' thing comes from?" Lillian looked at him in complete astonishment. "I'm not the reader Cora or Cait is—" His anger was dissipating, replaced with a sort of grim amusement that damped Cait's anger like a fire extinguisher "—but I'm not immune to a rousing adventure. Like, oh, The Three Musketeers." He let that hang in the air.

"All for one, and one for all," Cait murmured.

"And books aside, what this all boils down to," Sam said, "is that every time you bail out on Cora, it destroys her. And I'm the one left to pick up the pieces." Now that her own anger was more-or-less quenched, Cait could clearly sense the memory of Sam's devastation as it shivered coldly through him.

"Be honest with yourself, Lillian," Cait commanded. "Do you really think you can put Cora first? Every time? Because if you can't, then you need to stop pretending that you can."

Lillian winced, shaken to the core by Cait's brutal honesty, as Sam added, "Whatever you've got going on with Cora right now, I won't stand in the way of that. But we're not going to make plans again if you can't be sure you're going to make them. Even if there's an emergency."

Lillian sighed. "It's so often a matter of life and death, you know that—" There are other Rangers, Cait thought, but did not say. Lillian needed to make this decision herself. "—but you're right. Maybe—maybe when she's older." When she's older, Cait knew, would never happen; Lillian had just driven a stake through the heart of any hope of a closer relationship with Cora. Unless she changed drastically, and soon, this was the most she would ever have. Cait couldn't find it in herself to be sorry—at least, not for Lillian. Silently, she vowed to do everything she could to make the inevitable easier on Cora.

Sam nodded solemnly; Cait wondered if he'd heard the same thing she had. "Okay. Friends, right?"

Lillian set herself, and underneath all the turmoil, the anger, the resentment, Cait thought she heard a faint note of relief. "Friends." She gave a soft, rueful laugh. "You and me—we were over before we ever began." Cait hadn't expected the turn of conversation, and now she did feel like she was intruding. She took a half-step back, intending to make a discreet exit, but the ice cracking beneath her foot betrayed her. Lillian offered her a soft half-smile, but her emotions had sharpened into something almost—speculative. "No need," she said. "Sam and I—we didn't really choose each other, we just sort of—fell into it. I admire him, and he's one of the few people in the Systems that can make me laugh… but he's right. What we had, was never love. Not then, and not now."

"Truth," Sam agreed.

"All right," Cait said, feeling like the ground itself was shaking underneath her. She was teetering on the edge of emotional overload, and she knew it. "Do you think you two can go on from here? Is there anything else you need to address?"

Sam shook his head in silence. "No," Lillian met her gaze without flinching; after a moment, a half-smile curved her lips. "Sam's found himself one hell of an advocate."

Cait shook her head. "Sam didn't need me to support him—he did just fine." Sam's surprised appreciation curled up through her, adding itself to the storm already raging inside of her. "He needed it for Cora." She breathed deeply of the cold air, trying to use the shock to steady her for just a few moments more. "I'll go take a walk while the two of you finish up whatever you need to. Lillian, I presume we're dropping you back at Neon?"

"No need," Lillian said. "I've arranged for pickup. But I will make sure to say goodbye to Cora before you lift off." She gave Cait a long, considering look. "And thank you. You've given both of us a real gift. Not a comfortable gift, but…" she let out a sigh. "Honesty is the best way to go... however painful. As if I didn't owe you already."

"I'm not one to keep score," Cait said. "But I'm glad I could help. If you'll excuse me…" She nodded to them both, then walked away quickly before either of them could draw her back in.

[booburry]

Sam Coe Alphabet

CW: 18+, Minor's DNI.

Lots of filthy...filthy things below for ADULT EYES only.

Saw this kind of post for Astarion and felt the immediate impulse to create one for Sam Coe. Only it was like 2am and I needed to sleep.

So, instead, @5oh5 and I fused our brains (as we apparently do) and worked on this list for about 5 hours, on and off. It was such a fun, entertaining and brain-rotting time!!!

Below, we present for you what we think are the abc-D's of Sam Coe:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

No matter how you two pleasure each other, the aftercare with Sam is always soft, loving and focused on you. He showers you with compliments, will physically clean you if you are too tired, get you prepared for bed, and cuddle and hold you until you fall asleep.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of their and also their partners)

Favourite body part on his partner, I would say lips. Not only cause he always looks at them and thinks of how much he wishes to kiss them, but also because he wants to see you smile, you laugh, you purse your lips at a particularly bad, yet hilarious, joke of his.

Favourite on him? I think that is a bit harder to say and I honestly think that Sam has some insecurities with his body having grown a bit into a dad bod. I see his younger self being absolutely ripped, having appetite suppression from all the drug use, wanting to stay fit for all the action he was finding himself seeking, and also for all the sex he engaged in.

Then with Lillian, the depression that came from that, the drinking that must have come along with it (without the drugs to suppress his appetite) brought him into a bit of a dad bod. Then his focus was on Cora and not his physique but he is secretly very insecure and does not think of himself as attractive (idiot).

I think his hair and his eyes are probably the ones he outwardly comments on when asked? If he really had to come down and choose something, he would, very awkwardly, admit his arms.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Soft or Dom Sam loves cuming inside of you, there is no way around it. Not a full-blown breeding kink, as I don’t think he is actively seeking to have another kid, but he loves seeing his cum drip out of you after he climaxes. (also with his new S/O I do truly see him being open to having or adopting another child if it was what his partner wanted & Cora would be stoked to have a sibling.)

Dom!Sam also loves to see you covered in his cum, over your face, mouth, chest, stomach, ass...all of it.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I take Dirty Secret two ways. One is the absolute filthiest thing he has sexually done and the other is what he perceives as the ‘dirtiest’ or ‘grossest’ thing he could request from his partner.

Sam’s most pleasurable sexual experience was during one of his bingers on Neon. He’s never told a soul until you, but it was just him being used by numerous, numerous, men and women. By the end, his body was numb, covered in marks, filled and covered with cum, and had been completely drained himself. Claims he slept for a few days straight after that day and couldn’t walk straight for a few more after.

I think Sam greatly struggles with his bisexuality, in that he has been taught to be ashamed of it. His father probably always had his son on the track to marry a woman and Lillian would have taken offence that she wouldn’t be enough pleasure for Sam. Because of this, I think this ‘Dark Secret’ would come out in two ways:

If romancing someone without a penis, he will awkwardly and very hesitantly open up about how he enjoys anal stimulation, and how he would enjoy it every once in a while for you to fuck him with a strapon, but fully expecting you to refuse and for this request to potentially break up your connection/relationship.

If romancing or pining for someone with a penis, I think he would be very hesitant to openly engage and admit his feelings for them—at least the first individual able to naturally give him this stimulation as he has never fully allowed himself to explore that in combination with love.

Obviously both of these things are nothing for Sam to be ashamed of and it’s with his S/O’s open acceptance he slowly gets rid of the shame behind these desires.

E = Experience (how experiences are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Tons, Sam knows exactly what he is doing and honestly does not give any hints about his sexual prowess until you are in the moment, finding yourself in a new position or with Dom!Sam pushing the envelope. But just because he has a lot of experience doesn’t mean he has to do everything under the sun with you, he is happy to stick within his partner’s wheelhouse of comforts and kinks and doesn’t feel dissatisfied if they don’t explore out of that. He never pushes you to try anything you don’t want and is very conscious, even when being a Dom, to not overstep what he may perceive as your boundary.

The only time he does allude to his sexual experience and prowess is in his relentless flirting, egging you on in ways he knows make your insides turn, before playing it off like he is unaware of everything he is doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Soft!Sam = Missionary. He wants to see the face of his lover as he gives them pleasure. He wants to be able to caress their skin, look at them as he gives them constant praise, and tell them how much he loves them, how they deserve the universe twice over. He wants to be able to kiss you, to allow you to feel how much passion, appreciation and affection he has for you.

Dom!Sam = Breeding press. Similarly, he wants to see the pleasure on his partner’s face, but in a position where they are beneath him and pinned against his weight. He wants to see your legs spread, your open mouth, to see and hear your desperate moans. He would also pull out just to see your hole pulse from the pleasure. He would also hold you in that position after letting himself go inside of you, just to watch his cum slowly slip out, only to push it back in with his fingers or cock, or both, and have you lick them clean after.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

Dom!Sam has no place for games or humour.

Soft!Sam, however, enjoys cracking a good joke when teasing you or warming you both up. I think that it also depends on how much love and affection he is feeling for you in that moment. If it’s overwhelming, he would immediately slip into giving you praise and affection and drop the playfulness. If it’s spontaneous sex, and you are giving into the banter, I truly see it going for as long as both of you can keep it up.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Sam takes great pride in his mane, or at least he does now.

Originally he only learned about a hair routine to help Cora with her curls and to make sure she didn’t get a lot of frizz, but then she started nagging him about taking care of his own hair, eventually starting to do it herself which forced Sam to take on the routine himself so that Cora wasn’t worrying about him in that aspect.

He uses hair oil, has some specialized combs to reign in his curls and keeps it all tidy under his hat.

For his body hair, he 100% has a tummy trail and hair on his pecks, forearms, legs and a little back hair. He 100% manscapes and keeps the area around his crotch and balls clean-shaven—solely for the reason that he doesn’t like his pubes getting in the way of seeing him fuck you or your pretty face enjoying taking his cock. He also loves to see your cum and precum glisten on his skin and the feeling of your warm flesh against his with every thrust.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Intimacy for Sam extends far outside of being ‘in the moment’ and sexual gratification or pleasure. He sees every moment with you as intimate and romantic. He would love to be the domestic one in the relationship, just so happy to finally have another person who he can care for besides Cora—someone who chose to be with him. He would love to shower with you, wash you, help you get ready for bed when you were really tired, keep the ship tidy and clean and cook for you and Cora.

Side note...when he cooks he totally has a waist apron on and whenever anyone gives him shit for it, he always asks if they want to cook instead. When they turn down the offer he always mutters ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. Lay off my fashion choices if you want dinner.’

Also, when you are both alone, he likes to cook in nothing but that apron.

During Sex? Either Soft or Dom Sam has nothing but love and appreciation for you and shows it either through his vocalized affection as Soft Sam or with his details and astute aftercare and praise while dominating you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When Cora was still a baby, he did it as a stress reliever but as she got older and more aware, he almost entirely stopped. When he needed to get some level of release, he found that the shower was the best place. It allowed him some privacy, ensuring Cora wouldn’t see or hear and a contained place to clean up afterwards.

When he meets you, however, he finds himself having a more frequent need for release as you plague his mind with all the positions he could have you in, or you have him in. I think he would also add in some anal stimulation when he was deep in his lust for you – either in the shower if he has enough time or at night at The Lodge when he knew he had extended privacy to indulge in such pleasures while moaning your name.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinds)

I think Sam’s kinks vary from his time being a smuggler and partying on Neon and when you meet him in the game/post having Cora.

Overall, his biggest kink would be a praise kink—both giving and receiving but mostly engaging in giving. And this praise kink resides outside of bedroom activities too. Every time he sees you after any amount of time away it is a small gesture of a smile full of love and pride to full-blown showers of words of worship along with loving and affectionate kisses and touches to your body for you to feel his praise.

Dom!Sam would greatly enjoy bondage, ropes, blindfolds, restraints, gags...the works. What he engages in depends on how deep and dark he desires to Dom you, however, he rarely gets to the point of degradation—save for the very few and far-between moments when he needs to let out his pent-up frustrations 😉

And during Sam’s time at Neon...I honestly think he wouldn’t have given enough shits about himself, his body or contain any level of self-respect for himself. This led him to not really care what he engaged in, so long as it left him feeling something at the end of it. Or he was just too plastered out of his mind to be aware of what was going on or being done to him.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

I think Sam would have a few...maybe a top 3.

Your shared bed. That is your sanctuary, the place where he always ensures to be devoted and tender with you. He refuses to dominate you in such a space as he sees it as the one area where you both can be soft and open and loving with each other.

When you touch down on a new planet. Taking in the new wilderness, seeing all the new wildlife and minerals, skylines and landscapes gets Sam excited—both at the thrill of exploration and of conquering something new. Always with you two travelling alone, he finds a place to take control and this will be the place where he is almost always dominant. If it’s a planet that has an atmosphere, then he will find a cave or covered place outside. If you need to be inside of a space he either hunts for an abandoned building or clears out some spacers—using the adrenaline to fuel his dominant actions and further both of your pleasures.

Moments of significance within your relationship. Places that mark milestones and memories that were tender or special between you two, often enjoying going back to that place or a place that was reminiscent of it and reliving whatever experience you both shared there, being soft, dom or sub Sam.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pleasing you. Literally nothing else, he is motivated to make sure you have had the most pleasure you can handle or want.

He also gets turned on by his domestic behaviours, taking care of you outside of sex, your praise and thankfulness for that care he gives. Your praise on how good of a partner he is, how good of a father. Any time you compliment him, he gets a little more turned on until he needs to repay you for all of those words and affectionate gestures.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Sam, from his time in Neon (as referenced in the Kinks section), would have a strong sense for the things he did not enjoy or want to engage in, as he either engaged in it himself or was around others engaging in it. I honestly cannot see him going through that dark, self-destructive, time without being exposed to it all.

Also because of that, I think there are very few things that Sam wouldn’t be open or wanting to engage in. I don’t think he would enjoy Age Play due to his dynamic with Cora, and when in a committed relationship with someone he would not engage in Cuckholding or Hotwifing. I also don’t see him being into piss play or scat play but otherwise, I don’t know if he would have any hard no’s, without doing a deep dive into every single kink out there.

It would also turn Sam off if his partner showed any emotional distress prior to sex or during and immediately giving them comfort. Only if they say that any type of intimacy would make them feel better will he then reluctantly engage but normally not seeking his own pleasure unless the position calls for it, and even at times will not seek to finish himself after seeing you orgasm and relax.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves giving Oral the most but also greatly enjoys receiving and shoving his cock down your throat during certain levels of domination. He contains a ridiculous amount of skill and has a surprising amount of dexterity with his fingers and tongue. There are days when all he wants is for you to sit on his face for an hour or more as he just licks and pleasures you, not even seeking or wanting satisfaction for himself.

He doesn’t care about the skill of his lover, just that they are engaged and enjoying servicing him. Sam also always seeks eye contact, whether that’s when your lips are wrapped around his cock or he is eating you out or taking your dick into his mouth. He needs you to watch him passionately service you, occasionally glancing towards you to see the results of his actions with great pride.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Soft!Sam is slow and passionate but he has a hard time holding back as his passion builds through sex. Occasionally he will lose his control and suddenly quicken or harshly slam into you or push you against a surface while changing positions, groaning at the release he feels before apologizing and praising you for being so irresistible.

Dom!Sam will switch and transition but mostly fast, hard, and with force is the pace he has. Occasionally he does like to go slow and steady, watching every twitch in your expression, but this is normally closer to when you cannot handle any more OR are begging him to make you cum as you are right on the edge.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If the mood strikes and you both are alone, he will be down but I don’t think Sam would be the one to engage in the quickie. His partner would have to be the one to initiate it and steer the direction of their actions.

A single exception, tying into below, is when the risk factor of the moment excites Sam enough, he will take control for a dominant quickie—usually involving him covering your mouth to muffle your moans and groans of pleasure as he fucks you fast and fierce.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc)

As a former, and closeted, adrenaline junkie? Without a doubt, risk is a huuuuge turn-on for Sam.

The only time he will not engage in any type of risk is when there is any level of chance that Cora would be within proximity to, hear or see him engage with himself or his partner.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

His famous line tells it all. This man has stamina.

Preferably you both go for 2 to 3 rounds, 4 or 5 being his preferred. I don’t think it takes a long time for Sam to cum, only that with his lengthy experience with group sex and pleasuring multiple partners, he has a great understanding of how to pace himself and the time he needs between when he orgasmed and when he was ready to go again.

It would not shock me that he could, if time allowed, have you and him in throws of pleasure for hours on end. Only taking necessary breaks for food, fluid and to use the bathroom.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Sam greatly enjoys the use of toys and is pro toy in almost all situations. For owning them, I think that on the ship, whether yours or his, he never allows anything to be on there in fear that Cora will find it cause he knows she snoops and will find literally anything that is left on that ship. At the Lodge I see him having a small lock box hidden that contains a few anal toys for himself to use when he can have a prolonged period of privacy.

Soft!Sam only uses toys for your pleasure, never anything that would have you left looking or feeling degraded or in pain. He will use the toys as an extension of himself seeking to give you the most pleasure you can have.

Dom!Sam loves the use of toys and will find a way to do so. If out adventuring, he will find impromptu items to fit his need or desires to stretch you or gag you, but both of your preferred place is the Paradiso Pleasure Suites as they contain all the toys you would want without having to keep them around Cora. Plus, Cora loves the beach and the resort and keeps herself occupied while you occupy each other in your own suite.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sam? Unfair? Without a doubt.

That man loves to tease you inside and outside of the bedroom. Outside it’s just quips and little playful digs. Sometimes when he can ensure the privacy of his actions, he will grab you in your pleasure spots, and kiss you in areas he knows make you wet, a smug smile always present afterwards with the knowledge of how he was torturing you.

During Sex? He loves the build-up, the slow rise of tension as he can focus on your body, on how he can delicately touch you, kiss you, and build that symphony of sensations until you are begging for a release.

Soft!Sam will give you that release immediately, deeply moaning into you as he does, losing himself as he feels you buck against him, and possibly fill his mouth or throat with the results of your orgasm.

Dom!Sam, however, needs you to beg for it. And when he finally thinks you have sufficiently done so, he gives you that release but immediately ramps you up towards the precipice of another climax, demanding to hear you beg once more.

Sam also loves being teased himself, he loves being edged and left hanging, craving for that satisfaction and release. He loves to see his partner don a mischievous smile or grin with every taunting touch, every luscious lick or flick of their tongue, but he never begs. He just rides that edge as long as possible until he is shoved over into some of the most relieving and satisfying orgasms he has.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sam is not a loud man, most of his sounds of pleasure are short hisses of pleasure, short inhales and hitches in his breath, soft moans and swears under his breath. When dominant he will growl and groan more viciously and will use his full voice at any sign of disobedience.

When Sam is submissive is the time when he loses this control, but only if it’s what his partner desires. If wanting him to be quiet, he would also whimper and let out small pleas for his lover's touch between moments. If allowed to be vocal, he would give full, guttural moans, as he felt you enter him, as you handled him roughly, his breathing heavy and quick, and his moan from orgasm being deep and prolonged.

However, when it comes to his partner, no matter the position he is in from above, he wants to hear them. He wants to hear them moan, he wants to hear how their breath changes with his actions, telling you or begging you to not hold back. If in a position where he needs to be careful of the volume you two make, he will ensure the sound is dampened. If being soft, it would be a gentle hand over your mouth. If being dominant, it would be a gag. Either way, he would still want you to moan but just so he can hear you and nobody else.

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sam loves to watch you pleasure yourself but is also okay with you masturbating on your own. If he ever manages to walk in on such an act, he will offer to assist or provide privacy.

Soft!Sam would love to watch you pleasure yourself with your hands or with toys and gets immediately excited when you reach out and use him to do so. Maybe placing his fingers somewhere, ordering him how to move, or using his body as a way to prop your leg up to get a better angle as you press a toy deeper into yourself, even using him as the surface you have the dildo on that you are riding.

Dom!Sam loves to instruct you how to pleasure yourself, pushing you to go harder, harsher, faster. Scolding you when you stop and sometimes walking to you only to place your hands or toys back where they need to be. He always does this while sitting far away, never touching himself but letting the anticipation grow. He sometimes prefers to stay clothed, as an additional sign of dominance and indifference, but the other times his hard cock is out and throbbing, his pre-cum dripping down his shaft only to fall off and form a small pool between his feet.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I see Sam being more endowed with girth than length. I still see him being slightly above average, 6 to 6.5inch but with significant girth. Circumcised and a little veiny, two or three prominent veins always popping out the harder and more turned on he gets.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

This man can fuck. A lot.

He is always pining for you every moment he sees you, always wishing to be in contact, to love you and shower you with affection, and more. When without Cora’s presence, he wants it daily if not multiple times a day or prolonged afternoons of you two not getting out of bed.

When it’s been a while due to circumstance or company, and you two not being able to be alone, he will seek out every opportunity for you both to be intimate.

The longer you both go without intimacy and building more yearning = the more dominant Sam will be. (Except for situations that would have him feeling overwhelming soft love for you.)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He waits. He waits a loooooooong time after you have fallen asleep to allow himself to find slumber and he fights it up until the moment it takes him.

The moments of him cuddling you and holding you after you have fallen asleep are some of his happiest moments. It’s when he finally feels completely at peace and whole and with purpose outside of Cora. In those moments, he feels like he holds his entire life within his arms.

He also loves the small sounds you make while sleeping, watching your chest slowly rise and fall, your mouth slightly open and when you let out little moans or sounds, he fights every urge to kiss you or laugh—sometimes failing and waking you up to him hugging you tightly, kissing your forehead or top of your head.

He also loves placing his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. I think this is one of the things he seeks out on those nights when he can’t find sleep or needs peaceful comfort.

BONUS! Absolute Brain Rot that 5oh5 and I got while brainstorming this post:

Kissing Sam’s tummy trail only to feel his body immediately flinch at the sensation before relaxing against you, a soft, shallow, breath escaping his lips you are showing love and affection to a place he is greatly insecure about.

His bare ass in just an apron. His partner pressing their bulge against his bare ass as he cooks them breakfast, the soft blush on soft, domestic, Sam’s face as you whisper sweet praise into his ear, the apron slowly starting to lift as he gets hard with anticipation.

SoftDom!Sam eating you out, laying and relaxed between your thighs licking, kissing and fingering you to every edge possible, always leaving you lingering. Waiting for you to beg enough that you deserve to cum, only for him to continue to bring you to the next moment right before climax, expecting you to beg again.

Dom!Sam sitting in a chair across the room watching and guiding you through pleasuring yourself. Seeing him visibly get harder and harder, precum dripping down his cock into a small pool growing on the floor, his eyes trained on your hole clenching around a clear dildo or nothing.

Soft!Sam kneeling on the bed right at your feet watching you pleasure yourself, slowly stroking his hard cock.

Also will be cross posting to A03 because we can.

[therealgchu]

WiP Wednesday - Anamnesis

previewing something i started working on. not very far with it, and as i outline it, it'll likely be a limited, multi-chapter story called The Pilot.

tagging the coemancer crew, and anyone else that wants to share their WIP. doesn't have to be fanfic, can be any art.

my Anamnesis short stories are here on ao3.

my other stuff is also on ao3.

just a peek

“Come on, Sam,” the six year old boy’s mother called from the ramp. “Let’s get going.”  The tow-headed boy, with a stuffed ashta in his left arm, and a model NASA Saturn V rocket in his right hand, raced up the ramp.

He stopped and looked at the landing module in wonder. This was going to be his first trip off world, and they were going in his dad’s ship. He’d been in ships before, but those were just for flying around Cheyenne, nothing big. But his dad’s ship had a grav drive! It could fly to other planets!

A lot of the other kids in school had been off-planet; either they were born somewhere else, or they had family they’d visit on another planet or moon. Sam was born in Akila, and all of his family lived on Cheyenne, so they never went anywhere.

They were flying to New Atlantis! Almost no kids at school had been to New Atlantis. They’d only been to the dinky moons like Codos. New Atlantis was on Jemison, over twenty-four light years away! He actually had no idea how long a light year was, though he did know it measured distance, NOT time. His mom told him that. Mom was a scientist, a planetary geologist. She came to school and talked to his first grade class about what she did. She looked at rocks to tell how planets were made. Sam liked going rock collecting with his mom. But Dad kinda got annoyed with them bringing back the rocks into the house. Then Mom would give Dad a smile, and he wouldn’t be annoyed anymore.

Mom had a big meeting to go to. A “conference” was the word he heard. He had to look that up in the brand new dictionary Mom gave him when school started. She said since he was a big boy, starting first grade, he’d need it. He spent all night with a flashlight under the covers reading it. He learned a lot of new words. Then he his dad got mad at him for being up too late.

[a-cosmic-elf]

WIP Wednesday

I’m sorry for being so far behind on all the tag games, I appreciate every single tag! I’m just so tired! this is only the second week in my new job and my brain is still feeling like a fried egg.

But I’d like to share a rough snippet from my latest Starfield wip, ‘What We Leave Behind.’

“Approaching vessel, this is Freestar space. Please hold your current speed and course while we scan you for contraband.”

Sarah’s eyes refocused, and she took a moment to adjust to her new surroundings in orbit above Akila before scrambling to take back hold of the controls. She steadied the ship and dialed the engines back.

Phew, Freestar Security could still be a little jumpy following the war. Rarely would they wait long before assuming you were hostile. But could they have at least done her the courtesy of waiting for the grav drive to spin down first, and her head along with it?

She tutted to herself, aware that the Constellation registry didn’t do her any favours in Freestar space; they were treated as though they were UC Military. Still, the approval to land at Akila City took longer than expected.

“You’re good to go. Have a nice time in Akila City,” said a decidedly cheerier but forced voice over the comms.

“Thank you,” Sarah sent back through gritted teeth. What was it that Aja used to say? Kill them with kindness? Rise above! Aja, I’m trying.

The Frontier may sound like it’s falling apart just before the grav jump, but it was still a reliable ship, and it felt good to let the old girl stretch her legs. And with an experienced hand at the controls, even in Akila’s gravity, she landed light as a feather at the makeshift spaceport.

It had been a while since Sarah had visited Akila City, and she remembered why the moment the cargo bay doors opened. She disliked the state of the place intensely and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Whyever did Solomon Coe choose Akila, anyway? Sarah mused. The oppressive gravity that made her feel like she had lead in her boots couldn’t have been ideal for a farming community that involves, you know, lots of manual labour?

The Freestar Collective consider themselves a hardy bunch, but this took the biscuit. Not to mention the local wildlife. It’s hardly an ideal planet to settle and raise a family.

At least New Atlantis was built to complement Jemison’s environment, Sarah thought to herself. Unlike the ugly wall of Akila City, surrounding what amounted to little more than a shanty town. She had always understood why Sam had dreamed of escaping this place.

“Hello Commander, can I be of assistance?” Vasco greeted her at the end of the ramp.

Sarah paused, scanning the area with her naked eyes, catching movement, a gang of local kids, perhaps? Or thieves waiting for an opportunity to steal from a ship? “No, Vasco. Protocol Blue. Wait here, guard the ship.”

“Protocol Blue, very well.” 💙

[notyourramona]

I need support of the hive brain of Starfield fic writers!

What do you think Crimson Fleet pirates do in their spare time?

Out of the box, silly, gruesome, all the suggestions! I want to compile a list for ideas for the fic I am working on! After I compile the list I'll post it to share this resource for any others who would like to write content surrounding The Crimson Fleet.

Thank you in advance for your support!