#sam coe x gn!reader

[cryptidsnackpack]

Sam Coe Pining HC’s:

First off… this man PINES. NSFW under the cut so 18+ intrepid explorers only. GN Dusty/Captain. I have this Dusty having the Neon City Street Rat background in this one (bc that’s what I have and I love it). I just want to take care of this man like DAMN.

When he first sets eyes on you, he has a to take a half-step back. He’s glad Cora swooped in with the assist, babbling about how excited she was to join them on the Frontier. It took him a half second longer than he would have liked to compose himself. He scolds himself… Now is not the time to get distracted.

But hell are you distracting. Sam can count on his hand the times in his life when he has felt taken care of, but damn do you do it well. “Sam are you running low on ammo? Have you eaten today? How much water have you had? That last planet was brutal”. Sometimes you’ll place a chaste hand to his shoulder to check in on him, and that touch almost sends him into cardiac arrest.

It’s not just the way you take care of him either, it’s Cora too. When you happily slapped credits into the little girl’s palm for her book allowance, and then suggested a trip to Sinclair’s the next time you touch down on Akila? He knew he was done for.

You’re always thinking of them, and something long hidden inside him breaks at finally being seen, finally been someone’s first priority. “Everyone okay back there?!Cora? Sam?”. The dogfight had been a hairy one, they’d need to stop at Neon immediately for repairs. The Captain’s voice shook over the comm. They’d check them both over, double and triple check that they didn’t get hurt. “Cora’s walking okay right? She’s not limping, right?” Anxiety punches the words out of the Captain’s chest, like their coughing them out. “She’s alright Cap” he settles a comforting hand on your arm. He imagines he can feel the heat from your skin in his palm all day.

Neon was hell. Usually he liked the city for what it was, but watching you? Watching everyone ELSE watching you? Hell. You knew your way around, and every few steps it seemed some old friend was pulling you away for conversation. You’d slip your hand into his, or wrap an arm around his waist to pull him along, make sure he wasn’t getting lost in the flow of foot traffic. And every time he tried to get a little closer, hold you just a little longer.

You two were meeting an old contact in The Astral Lounge. He was no stranger to the Lounge, but it felt different this time. He was jumpy, felt predatory. You’d donned some Neon City threads, a tight, darkly colored tunic that dipped past your collarbone and accentuated the muscle definition in your arms. And everyone in the Lounge seemed to be fixated on you. He edged closer to you. Thighs brushing. As if you could sense his tension, you settled a hand on his knee. He rested an arm on the back of the booth to steady himself, but you took it as a cue. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leaning into his chest. “This alright cowboy?” Your voice is low and rich, he leans forward to catch it and nods.

The glint in your eye, the way your lips curled mischievously up at his dumbstruck expression. You knew he wanted you. Of course you knew. “You know” He’s never heard anything sweeter, “I still have access to a corporate apartment here in the building… we could. Sorry that was ah, maybe-” You faltered, stuttering over your own words. Were you nervous? Why were YOU nervous? He kisses your forehead. It’s quick, impulsive and incredibly tender. It doesn’t necessarily match the mood, but the warm goofy smile you flash his way makes up for it.

You ride the crowded elevator in silence. Your ass pressed into his crotch. You grind back against him and he grips your shoulder in warning, and as a way to steady himself. “Not gunna lose your cool are you cowboy?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder, eyes cat-like. He’s not a man prone to PDA, but he takes off his hat to shield both of your faces from the surrounding crowd. He grips your jaw tightly, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. You moan into it, caught of guard, and he can hear a few people in the elevator tittering with good natured laughter.

You look startled by the intensity of your own body’s reaction, but quickly pull him from the elevator at your next stop. His hands are everywhere. Grazing your sides under the tunic, plucking at the waistband of your pants. “Is this okay? This is okay right?” He whispers against the shell of your ear. You nod frantically, your fingers flying over the apartments keypad lock.

He was being ravaged. He was coming to the realization, that he Sam Coe, had never been ravaged before. The sheets were slick with sweat underneath him, but all he could focus on was your mouth. Sweetly sucking the flesh of his thighs, licking a path from nipple to ear lobe. “I have been dreaming about this since we first met.” Your voice is shaking, your hands are shaking. But your tongue is steady when you guide his length down your throat. Your eyes glint up at him as the golden brown curls around his base tickle your nose.

He doesn’t mean to cum in your mouth. His moan sounds like a sob and he fists his hands into the sheets until he swears he can hear the fibers squeak. “Shit I’m sorry I meant to- I didn’t mean to… so early and I- it’s been a really, really long time”

You’re by his ear again. Whispering, your voice is low and soothing and fingers are lazily dancing across his skin. “You did so good Sam. That’s exactly what I wanted”. Your nails are scratching his scalp and his eyelids feel uncomfortably heavy. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, and I expect you to fuck the shit out of me Mr. Coe”. His barking laughter rouses him up a bit, enough to kiss you. He tastes himself on your lips. “I think I can arrange that Captain”.

[spookyspecterino]

Grunt Work

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.

Canon typical violence: blood, injury, mentions of death, guns, language, romance, kissing. All PG-13.

Spoilers for the “Grunt Work” Quest

It’s the very first UC Vanguard quest. If you haven’t played it yet, I highly recommend it. Out of my 20-ish hours playing it’s my favorite so far.

No spoilers for the end of game (I haven’t even gotten close to it yet) or anything to do with Sam Coe’s romance questline (I haven’t finished that either).

Non-spoiler summary for this fic/quest:

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

More descriptions of the fic with a more specific summary below the cut. I’m being very specific about spoilers because for most people, myself included, we’ve only had the game for a week.

More specific summary of this fic/quest:

The UC Vanguard sends you on a routine mission to check in on a settler colony on Tau Ceti II—it turns out to be anything but routine. With Sam Coe at your side, your first Vanguard mission is a baptism by fire.

Characters: Hadrian, Sam Coe, Vasco (mentions of other characters: Cora Coe and Barret)

“Vasco, do a quick comms check for me. I want to make sure it’s working after it glitched out on the last planet.”

The tall robot makes some beeping and whirring noises. The way it stares into nothing bothered you at first, but after some time you’d gotten used to it—even appreciating how it followed commands without hesitation. Over by the ships on and off-boarding ramp, Sam says goodbye to Cora. A smile spreads across your face as you watch them.

The Frontier’s external lighting illuminates the surrounding landing site. An otherworldly moon hangs in the night sky. You take one more moment to do a last check of your pack’s contents. This was going to be a routine check-in mission, but it never hurt to be safe than sorry.

“Comms are operational, Captain.”

“Thank you.” You wave goodbye to Cora who smiles and waves back before returning to the Frontier. “Comms are good Sam, ready to go?”

Your companion saunters over with that signature ranger’s confidence. “Always.”

“Great. I think I’ve got everything. Vasco, have I got everything?”

“Scanning now.”

Sam shifts from foot to foot. “Storm’s rolling in.” He comments, looking into the distance. “I’d like to get there before it starts raining.”

Sure enough, muted thunder rolls on the horizon and the wind picks up a touch.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, cowboy.”

“I don’t even know what a horse looks like.” He mumbles.

Vasco beeps affirmatively. “The necessary items are present, Captain. However, you are carrying more than the recommended amount.”

You sling your pack over your shoulder with a grin, ignoring the second part. “Thanks Vasco. You know, for a second there Sam, I thought you were going to say something about your joints hurting.”

“Ha ha. I’m not that old.”

You make a teasing face at him as you start heading toward the compound’s lights in the distance. The trek isn’t bad, mostly flat terrain with a few rocks here and there. The wind continues to pick up, carrying the scent of rain.

Sam hops over a rock, taking his place by your side. “Not to sound too over-eager to get this Vanguard busy work out of the way, but, where’s our next stop after this?”

“I was thinking we could explore the rest of this system. How’s that sound?”

“You know me, no complaints here.”

A radio tower comes into view, red lights along the sides flashing periodically. Beyond it is the main compound.

“Oh, Cora asked to keep an eye out on books specifically about ship reactors. She thinks she can fix ours.”

You hike your pack higher on your shoulder, already feeling the soreness. Blast your incessant need to carry every type of weapon part with you at all times. “I’ll be on the look-out. If she can save me a few credits and fix it herself, she’s welcome to try.”

“She’s a brilliant kid, but let’s do it on a planet with an actual mechanic who can make sure it works after. I have faith in her, but she’s 11 and you can’t learn everything from books—”

“Hold up. Sam. Stop.”

He freezes, noticing your stock-still posture, eyes fixed on the wide-open doors of the radio tower. Bright light filters out into the night.

“Does that look like a body to you?” you ask him, pointing toward a slumped over shape laying against a supply crate.

“Sure does.”

Unholstering your pistol, you both crouch and move closer. The grass underfoot sways in the wind.

It’s a grisly scene. Multiple bodies litter the area. All settlers—dressed in civilian working clothes. Blood splatters dot the concrete, some trail back to a body. Sam whistles, short and low, to get your attention. He’s looking inside. On the table is a settler, face up, arms splayed out and gutted. Clothes stained a vibrant red. Deep claw marks gouge out sections of the floor.

“No bullets, no casings in sight.” He murmurs close to your ear. “And it’s all fresh.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he shares your particular anxiety. “Let’s check out the main compound.”

Moving out of the small building and down toward the tar mac, you’re about to say something about the wrecked ship when an alien scream interrupts you. It sets every hair on end. Never have you heard a sound like that, even on the many planets you’ve explored.

In little to no time after the scream, a sharp static crackles over your comms, making you jump. Sam shuffles closer, crouched low next to you. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he may have chuckled, but he stays frozen and somber faced.

“I am so glad to see you.” The voice, a woman’s, sounds heavy with relief. “I think it knows you’re here. Hurry up to the second-floor office, I’ll unlock the door.”

As you make your way into the compound, it feels like walking straight into the lion’s den. Every sense is on high alert. Lightning flashes, making you see things in the shadows that aren’t really there. Only Sam’s presence behind you keeps you level-headed.

The brightly lit, glass windowed office only makes you feel worse, like a sitting duck on display.

“I’m Hadrian.” The woman introduces herself curtly while holding her side. “Are you my saving grace?”

“Not exactly. I’m UC Vanguard—sent to check in on the settlers.”

“Well shit.” She leans against the table, eyes closed in pain.

“Please don’t tell me we’re dealing with a Terrormorph here.” Sam asks, beating you to the punch.

She sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Shit. That’s bad news, Captain. Real bad.”

“Listen,” Hadrian starts, moving away from the table, “I know you’re just two people, but you have to help me kill this thing.”

“And why’s that? Why don’t we all just leave now?” You ask.

“It’s unique. It showed up way too early. Tau Ceti’s only been colonized for 20 years. If this is a new kind of Terrormorph that matures faster and shows up earlier, we need to know.”

“Damnit.” You hiss. “Terrormorphs that show up after only 20 years of colonization could wipe humanity off the map.”

“Exactly.”

Rain begins to fall on the large windows with a clatter. The rolls of thunder were becoming booming clashes now. Visibility was already reduced at night, but now the storm made things worse.

You relent, giving up any notions of leaving. “Alright. I’ll help. Got any ideas on how to kill it?”

Sam’s eyeing you particularly hard from where he stands.

“Yeah, turrets. But we need to bring them back online and get them powered up. The terminal’s on ground level at the far end of the warehouse.”

Sam grunts. “So, closer to the Terrormorph?”

“I’m not sure where it is right now. My best guess is it’s still around the outer edge of the facility. But there’s a tracking system you can use on one of the terminals.”

You run a hand over your face. “Ok. Tracker and turrets. That’s better than nothing. I can make do”

“Radio me when you’ve reset the system and I’ll calibrate it from here. Thank you for helping and good luck.”

You and Sam sneak out one of the office doors into the warehouse. Fat raindrops fall on the metal roof, amplifying the sound into a loud drumming. It doesn’t come close to the volume of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Vasco, come in.”

“Reporting, Captain.”

“Initiate full lockdown on the ship. Tell Cora we ran into some trouble and are taking necessary precautions. If she seems worried, give her a book from my locker.”

“Yes Captain.”

You shut off comms and sling your pack from around your shoulders, attempting a commanding tone that you’ve always needed to fake. “Sam Coe.”

His usual raspy, low voice is layered with apprehension. “Captain?”

You’re pulling out weapon pieces from your pack for your rifle. They’re big—heavy duty—and add a decent amount of weight to the gun. “Go back to the ship.”

“I had a hunch you were gonna pull something like this. No. No way.”

“That’s an order—”

“Don’t try that with me. You know it ain’t gonna work.”

You pause, just as you’re changing out the rifle’s .50 Cal magazine with a 9x39mm eight round clip. “Sam.”

“I’m staying.”

His eyebrows are furrowed. Mouth slanted in a stubborn, almost angry frown. You’d have to dig deep. “Cora can’t lose you.”

“You always pull that card. It’s lost its affect.”

“…I can’t lose you either.”

You’ve never used that before and quite frankly are surprised to hear it come out of your mouth. Maybe it’s too soon. Up until now, you and Sam have only been flirting—no real feelings or moves have been made. It’s a bit of a jump, but you’re sincere.

His eyes hold yours unflinchingly. The crease on his forehead lessens a little. “Then you know how I feel and why I’m staying right here.”

He’s one-upped you and you weren’t prepared for it. You murmur a “Damit Sam” and go back to modifying your rifle. Fighting is pointless, and his admission has your nerves shaken more than you’d like. “Stay glued to my side unless I say otherwise. If things turn sideways and I order you back to the ship, you’d better listen. Got it?”

“Understood, Captain.”

“I mean it.”

A hint of his familiar smile returns. “I heard ya.”

“And Sam…”

“Hm?”

“No heroics.”

He doesn’t respond, his brows pinch together again. It’ll have to do.

Moving through the warehouse went excruciatingly slow. At all times you wished you could just get up and run instead, but it would signal the monster almost immediately. The whole situation made you feel like you were prey, scared and small. The addition of Sam’s presence put a heavy responsibility on your shoulders and that made you even more careful.

Hadrian was on your comms as soon as the system was reset. She directed you to the tracker frequency tuner in the same room. While finding the frequency, the system went into high alert—detecting the major threat. Your watch begins beeping steadily, and then rapidly speeds up. The Terrormorph was getting closer to your position.

Your eyes met Sam’s just as the alien appeared on the roof of the building outside. Right in sight from the room’s windows you were in. A rough hand yanks you down to the ground. Sam is crouched damn near on top of you, shotgun aimed up at it. However, it doesn’t notice you two in the dark room. You slowly cover the watch face to try and muffle the beeping sound. Maybe it was the rain, or the creature was just playing games, but it moved on past to a different part of the facility. Loud footsteps fading as it leaves. The radar lessens to a low, steady beat.

“Hadrian, come in.”

“I read you. The turrets are going to need their power sources reset with the security system in lockdown.”

“Great.” Sam sighs, lowering his gun. His shoulder leans into yours as he gets closer.

“We’ll find them. Out here.”

Reaching for your rifle, your hands visibly shook. You can feel Sam’s watchful gaze.

“Last chance to leave.” You whisper, aimlessly checking over your gun. You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder reaffirming.

“Not happening.”

The first power source wasn’t hard to find. You took the slow route, keeping an ear out for any changes in the radar frequency. The power switch was like a beacon, a big red switch on a yellow panel—it stuck out like a sore thumb. When you flipped it lights came on, loudspeakers announced to stand back…and the radar went nuts.

“Out, out, out!” You hiss, pushing Sam toward the far end door. He doesn’t need to be told twice as he beelines it.

With Sam leading, you follow him, scrambling up onto the roof of the building near the turrets. Two of the six are online now. Two more switches and you’ll have a fighting chance. Maybe.

Behind you, further in the facility, things crash. For now, it seems you’re safe.

You huff, lightening the death grip you have on your rifle. “Ok, here’s the plan. We’re going to split up.”

“I’m not gonna like this am I?”

“Take the watch. Find the power sources. I’ll create a distraction.”

“No.”

“Sam…” you exhale, closing your eyes. Despite the sheer terror you feel, you manage a chuckle. “We’re not going to get anything done if you keep arguing with me.”

“Let me create the distraction.”

“No.”

“Now who’s arguing?”

“Your shotgun has no range—it’s effectively useless, you’d be dead in two seconds.”

“Fair point. Then give me your rifle, I’m a good shot.”

You’re already unclasping your watch’s band from around your wrist. “I’m not taking the risk.”

“What if I wanna take the risk?”

Shuffling over while still crouched, you bring his arm closer. The watch slides on and you make sure to fasten it tightly. “You already know I won’t let you. At least now you can radio Vasco if…”

It didn’t need to be said.  

He looks at the device and back to you. “Why is this startin’ to feel like you’re on a suicide mission?”

You can’t look at him or you’d lose the last of your nerve. “I’ll be on that walkway over there. It’ll have to run through the turrets to get to me and they’ll still have a shot when it tries to climb up.”

The way Sam chews his cheek really underlines how unhappy he is with this plan of yours. “Remind me to have a word with you about your savior complex when this is all over.”

“Hm. I’m looking forward to it.”

A gentle hand wraps around your arm. His eyes are soft, pleading. His other hand cups your face, it’s rough and calloused, but warm. “If you need to run, then run. You don’t have to die for some Vanguard that sends you on a ‘routine’ mission they were too lazy to check first—or for a colony full of dead settlers. Ok? I want you back, with me, alive, and in one piece.”

You don’t trust yourself enough to speak, something sappy or cheesy may decide to come out, so you simply nod.

It isn’t enough for him. “Please, say you’ll come back to me. I need to hear you say it.”

If he wasn’t so close, he may not have heard you through the pounding rain. “I’ll come back to you.” You pretended that you meant it, that you believed it.

“Thank you.” His hand falls away to hold his shotgun. “Now let’s kill this thing.”

“Be safe.” You manage before turning and heading toward your position. The chill of the rain creeps through your spine, but the warmth from Sam’s hand lingers on your cheek. You try to hold onto that feeling.

The steel walkway is sturdy and grated, giving you a good vantage point of the surrounding area. Once in position, you set up your rifle and lay flat, adjusting the scope. Lightning flashes, the crash of thunder isn’t far behind it. Water runs down your face and you wipe it hastily to keep it from your eyes.

The bright fire of the flare casts everything in red. With a good toss, it lands directly in the middle of the kill lanes. Bringing out your pistol you shoot once, twice, up into the air. The alien screams and the sound of wrenching, tearing metal draws near.

The hulking creature appears at the far end of the kill lanes, focused on the flare. It’s huge, big enough to fill your scope’s sights. You breathe deep and exhale slowly as you take your first shot.

The round hits the Terrormorph square in the back leg, crippling it for a moment. Blood leaks out onto the ground below. It lurches before regaining balance on its five other legs, letting out an enraged roar.

More lights come on in the facility. Sam’s already found one power breaker. Two more turrets begin to flash and come online.

The monster’s head swings in a different direction. Toward Sam, no doubt. The realization fuels you with a cold fury. You crank the rifle’s bolt-lever, a long bullet casing flies out of the chamber with a cling. Sliding the lever back with a heavy clunk you even your breath and prepare to take another shot.

You take it, aiming for its other back leg, but miss—the shot glances off the ground. Six shots left.

The thing’s giant head swings back to stare at you directly. Through your scope it’s as if you’re staring it directly in the eyes. Its front legs stomp the ground, and it roars. It ambles forward right into the kill lanes. Four turrets open fire, knocking it off balance and sending it sprawling momentarily. You take another shot, this time severing its thinner front limb.

The thing howls, ear splittingly loud and shrill, but claws its way back onto its feet. The turrets are doing damage, but it isn’t enough. It lurches toward you with surprising speed. The turret fire follows. You take a shot and miss. You exhale and your breath comes out shaking.

It's at the base of the building your walkway is on as Sam flips the final switch and the last of the turrets power up. The Terrormorph slows down a little, struggling to climb the building with two of its limbs missing. You have another 130 seconds, maybe, before it reaches you.

Your fifth shot hits it in the back, effectively doing nothing. The thing is bloody and losing steam from the constant onslaught of all six turrets. You start to feel hopeful. There’s movement to your left. It’s Sam on one of the rooftops. You’re about to give him a thumbs up when lightning flashes—some of the facility machines spark, an alarm sounds, and all lights except for auxiliary backups flatline. An unlucky power surge from the storm.

The Terrormorph has reached the base of the walkway below and is trying to make its way up, now free from turret fire. This would be your chance to run, but something holds you there. A false hope maybe.

You hold your breath, take a shot, and hit it square in the face. It doesn’t stop, clawing at the thin metal for purchase. Pulling the bolt lever and sliding it home, you fire again, chipping its other back leg and causing it to stumble. Metal rails groan and collapse under the monster’s weight. It falls to the ground with a metallic crash. You don’t fire, yet.

Sam is still on the other roof. You wave him off, pointing to the ship. Trying to make it clear that this was the order to run. A clashing sound below snags your attention back to the monster. It’s testing out the strength of the rail supports.

You’re aiming again as it springs up and begins throwing its weight at the steel rods. The vibration of the metal groaning and shifting with each impact reverberates through you. This is your last shot.

You fire and miss entirely as a section of rails to your right collapse and bend, tugging your section down. You’re forced to let go of your rifle to hang on. It clatters to the ground below.

More support beams collapse and you can feel the structure groan before you even hear it, vibrating hard enough to numb your hands. Trying to climb up the tilting walkway was a mistake as the shift in weight caused the whole thing, with you attached, to fall entirely. The feeling of falling was short-lived, something sharp sliced at your leg as you fell into the railing and walkway debris below.

For a moment, you lay dazed and in pain. The sound of rain patters around you on metallic surfaces. The whole walkway and railing fell over, the area was littered with jutted angles and metal parts. Something shifted under the debris. Something big enough to toss heavy metal away with ease. Any hope of the Terrormorph getting crushed by the impact was gone as it reared back and screamed. Its eyes, all six or seven of them, landed on you.

There was no way of escaping, debris had fallen over you. A particularly large beam held you in place on your back. Your pistol, the last line of defense, dug into your hip uncomfortably.

Sensing it had you trapped, the creature took its time closing the distance. Your leg was devoid of all feeling except a vague sensation of warmth spreading around it. The rails on top of you pinned you down, but you managed to free your measly pistol.

Only three or four of your shots made contact, others glanced off the Terrormorph’s armored shoulders or missed entirely. Either way, the low caliber did nothing to it. With an empty mag, and nothing else to defend yourself with, your arm fell to your side. You just hoped Sam was smart enough to listen and go back to the ship.

A loud blast caught the monster on the side of its head, snapping it away from you, and causing it to stumble.

Apparently, he wasn’t.

Sam emptied three more shells into the creature before reloading with cool, practiced ease. One blast dislocated the Terrormorph’s other back leg. Chunks went flying.

It howled and thrashed as he kept unloading shells into it. When he was completely out, he dropped the shotgun and picked up a long rod of metal with a jagged, broken end. The sharp tip sliced clean into its ribcage. When the alien still tried to pull itself up on its remaining two feet, Sam pulled it out with a yank and drove it home into the thing’s head, right above the mandibles. It gave one final spasm and finally fell dead.

At last, the only sound around you was the rain.

Sam dropped the crude spear with a clatter, eyeing the body a few times as he rushed over through the debris.

“You ok?” he panted, kneeling down. His hands cupped your face, bringing the familiar warmth with them.

“Holy shit.” Was all you were able to say.

It made him laugh with relief as he moved to check you over. “And you said a shotgun wouldn’t do anything.”

His hands moved debris from your legs, and he hovered as you yelped in pain. “You’ve got a nasty gash here. We need to get you back to the ship for medical attention. Let me see if I can get this off you.”

With a grunt of effort, he pushed the beam up enough for you to pull yourself out. Your leg was bleeding badly, but nothing you couldn’t fix with some TLC and bed rest. The pain hadn’t set in yet, thankfully.

Near you was a chunk of the Terrormorph’s leg. Feeling oddly disconnected from yourself, you grabbed it, staring at the gross thing, and put it in your pocket for Hadrian.

Sam started taking out bandages and doing what he could to wrap your leg. You could see his hands were shaking now.

Against all odds you both were alive; you started to laugh.

Sam gave you an odd look. “Don’t go loopy on me.”

A giant smile broke across your face. “Wasn’t expecting to live. There goes my chance at a cool memorial or bragging rights.”

“Going face to face with a Terrormorph and only losing a chunk of your leg gets bragging rights. Believe me.”

“Nah. All the credit goes to you on this one. That was just badass.”

He grunted, throwing more debris out of the way, and trying to clear a path. “Wasn’t thinking about how cool it looked when I did it. I was just trying to save you.”

“You know I’ll be telling this story forever, right?”

He chuckles, helping you up, slinging your arm over his shoulder and wrapping his around your waist. “I can see Barret’s expression now.”

“‘Sam Coe, my hero’ is how I’ll start it.”

He groans playfully. “Please don’t.”

“It’s true.” You looked at him as your feet touched even ground. Your faces were close. You could see the rain drops clinging to his hair and beard. “You saved my life.”

When he looked over, his nose nudged yours from close proximity. He didn’t shy away from the contact. Your paces slowed to a stop. “I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, either.”

Your grin was slow to spread as you glanced at his lips more than once. “Would you prefer a quippy one line as thanks?”

“Mm—no. Maybe something else though.”

You feigned ignorance as his eyes trailed down your face. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I’ll let you think of it.”

“A hero’s song?” you joked, voice softening.

“Nope.”

“How about a poem?”

He faces toward the room Hadrian’s in with a low laugh and begins to walk again. “You know, if you were as much of a smartass to that Terrormorph as you are to me, it would have keeled over on the spot.”

You put your good foot down and hold it, halting any forward progress. “Ok, ok. I think I’ve come up with something.”

He’s still smiling as he looks at you. Your noses nudge again. “If you suggest a book or a short story—”

His surprised breath as your mouth presses to his is an award in itself. He stays motionless for a moment, as if his brain had short-circuited, before his lips move and mold to yours. Slow and tentative at first, exploratory. Soft and gentle as if he’s afraid of hurting you. His hand on your waist moves to your lower back, gripping your clothes. He leans into you, beard scratching the skin of your face. Your fingers slide through and tangle in his wet hair. It makes him pant into your mouth before kissing you again, more eager this time.

Breaking apart, you both linger close, hot breath mixing together. His forehead leans to yours, eyes still closed.

That raspy voice of his you love so much is the first to break the silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.”

“You could have made the first move. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Was never sure if you were just being quippy and flirtatious for fun or not.”

“It is fun, but it’s also because I care for you.”

He hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Good to know, we’re going to have to find time for this more often.”

You close the distance enough to ghost your lips over his. “We have time now.”

He hesitates, so tempted with the offer, but exhales instead. “You’re hurt and bleeding all over the place, I need to get you some medical help. Plus, Hadrian needs her damn samples.”

“Pshh. I’ve got plenty of blood left—and she can be patient.”

He starts walking again, bringing you with him, and pressing the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt against the corner of your mouth. “Just wait until you’re healed. You won’t be able to keep me away.”

[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.

[margowritesthings]

psa I write for Sam Coe x reader now soooo send in your requests cowgirls(gn)🤠

[spookyspecterino]

Gentle Promises in the Dark

Sam Coe x GN! Starborn! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions.

Spoilers for Starfield's endgame content.

No warnings. There's just a pinch of anxiety, but it's all fluff and happiness.

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

This was a lovely request! I'll be closing them for now, just because I have more to catch up on and I've been getting distracted. Thank you to everyone for supporting my work! This fandom has been so welcoming and lovely to interact with!

Sam lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It must be late by now. But he isn’t tired, his mind turns over and over with endless thoughts.

A faint ray of light draws his attention, it’s the bedroom door opening just a crack for you to slip in. It shuts right behind you, returning the room to its inky blackness. His thoughts halt with the sound of your quiet footsteps.

Sam feels you slide under the covers, your feet are cold, as usual, and you snuggle up to him. Instinctually he’s moving to let you lay on his bare chest—your favorite spot.

“Hey.” You whisper, sounding content at last.

“Darlin’.” He drawls back in greeting, wrapping his arms around you.

“You doing ok? You’re not usually awake this late.”

“Just thinking.”

“Hm. About what?”

“Just about…” he sighs. “Everything.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah…”

An uncomfortable silence lays in the air. Instead of passing, it lingers until Sam sighs again.

He decides to ask the question that’s been on his mind for a few weeks now.

“Are you going to go back into the Unity?”

Are you going to leave me behind?

You don’t answer at first. Memories surface of all the other times you traveled through the Unity. And all the times you came out of the other side. Feeling empty.

Out of fear or nervousness, you may have brushed the question off any other time, but now you answer honestly. “I don’t know. A long time ago I thought it was my purpose. Finding artifacts, fighting the Hunter, passing through the Unity… but…”

Sam hesitates, waiting on the edge, he wants you to continue. But he’s afraid of your answer.

“This universe…it’s different than the others.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked this, but how many universes have you been to? How many years have you been doing this?”

You chuckle. It sounds pained. “Too many to count and too many for one lifetime.”

Sam tries to laugh, to alleviate the anxiety he feels bundled up in his chest. “You tellin’ me you’re older than I am?”

Groaning playfully, you nuzzle into his neck. Your smile against his skin makes his heavy heart a little lighter.

“Let’s not talk about that part.”

He pulls you closer. “Ok deal.”

The silence lingers again.

“Are you looking for an opinion?” he asks, his voice very quiet.

“From you? Always.”

“I think you should stay here. With us—with me. We could…” He clears his throat, swallowing the words his heart wanted him to say.

“We could what?”

After a few beats of his pounding heart, “It’s gonna sound sappy, but…we just keep going. Grow older together. Watch Cora grow up. Live out our golden years exploring the stars.”

“You really want that?”

“Hell yes I do.”

You fall silent. Sam stares into the dark. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a deep abyss with no end. He wished you’d just spit it out, give him the bad news so he could start preparing himself to lose you—

“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Sam’s whole body relaxes with a long-winded exhale. Had he been holding his breath?

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

“Honestly…I was kind of expecting you to. How could I compare to the life—or lifetimes—you’ve lived traveling to new universes? How could I compare to the power you gain every time you cross over?” He looks away, shrugging. “There’s an infinite number of me out there. You could do this again in the next universe.”

You pull back, propping yourself up to look at him in the dark. He can see the faint outline of your face. You’re frowning.

“There’s only one of you that’s like you. I have never met another that comes close.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

You take his chin in your hand, forcing him to face you and preventing him from turning away. “Out of infinite universes, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“What about the one in your original universe?”

“If I loved him, I wouldn’t have left.”

“Huh…so that means…?”

“Yes.” He can see you smile. “I choose you. I’m staying.”

He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Well, I guess first things first.”

You lean your forehead to his, he can hear the smile in your voice. “And what would that be?”

“I’m gonna marry you.”

[spookyspecterino]

Card Game

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain once or twice.

Drinking, gambling, a few swear words, kissing, a little PDA

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

Requested by @notyourramona. Thank you for your request I genuinely loved every second of this! 😊

Cards slap onto the table in front of you.

Barrett’s looking very pleased with himself. “That’s it, I’ve got 19.”

Sam is slow to put his own cards on the table. “Hang on there, friend.” His hand shows 20.

“You’re kidding! Again?” You’re damn near ready to eat your shoe at this point after losing so many times to him.

His grin is devilish. “Afraid so.” He looks to the pile in the middle of the table, some money and other various items are collected there. “Which means…”

“I do not have any more money to give you, Sam.” Andreja grumbles throwing her cards.

It makes Sam chuckle, even as he’s sliding the jackpot over to his side. “Doesn’t have to be money. I’ll take guns, ammo, drinks, the keys to your starship—”

“Uh oh. I see where this is going.” Barrett laughs out.

You’re laughing with him. “Somebody’s in the market for a new ship.”

“Not new.” Sam corrects, “To be more specific, yours, darlin’.”

Your face heats up to a scarlet red. Scoffing, you’re trying to play it off as Barrett giggles and Andreja grins teasingly. A sip of your iced drink isn’t enough to cool you down. “No clue why you’d want mine, you practically live on it already.”

It makes Sam grin even more. Something playful dances in his eyes. “Nothing would really change. You’d just be flying my ship.”

“Oh, I get it. Constant reminders that it belongs to you. Your ship, your rules kinda deal?”

“Something like that.”

Andreja leans over. “Please do not bet your ship, I could not live with the constant remarks he would make.”

“I have no intention of betting my baby.”

“Well then,” Sam starts, shuffling the card deck again, “What are you betting with, Captain?”

Carefully, with all eyes on you, “I bet…a full paid, one month vacation, to Paradiso.”

Everyone’s eyes light up. “Is that so? Small fortune you’re offering there.”

“I’m going to regret this, I know it.”

Sam starts dealing the cards again. “Counteroffer.”

“Go on…”

“Let’s forget money—”

You snort. “Let’s forget money, yeah, right after you run us dry.”

Andreja joins in, crossing her arms. “He forgets he is outnumbered.”

“No, no—” He holds up a hand. “I’m fully aware. My counteroffer is we forget about money and instead, losing hands take shots.” His eyes meet yours, there’s a glint to them.

“Take shots at your head?” Andreja leans in, one hand moving to her hip.

Barrett’s holding his stomach as he laughs. “Andreja, try not to be such a sore loser.”

“I am not a ‘sore loser’!”

You take a sip, still holding Sam’s playful eyes. “I like it. Let’s do it.”

Sam leans back, victorious. “The captain says yes. So, are you two in?”

Barret looks upstairs to Constellation’s bar. “Sure. Why not. I’ll get the shot glasses.”

Andreja snorts. “You are all signing your death warrant. No one can out drink me.”

She joins Barrett as he leaves, mumbling about getting the good liquor. Sam stays busy shuffling cards. “I’m surprised you agreed so quickly, given your tolerance for drinking.”

“If you’re referring to that one time on NEON, I’ve learned my lesson, thank you.”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Yes, and I’m very confident I’ll have my full memory at the end of tonight.”

His voice tilts, teasingly. “We’ll see. I’ve been going easy on you.”

“You’ve been going easy? How is that possible? And how are you so good at blackjack?”

“I was raised in Akila, what do you think we do all day?”

“Fair point.” You lean in, eyes narrowing playfully. “Maybe I’ll step up my game too.”

“You’ve got game now?”

“I’ve always had game!”

“That’s surprising, considering you’ve lost almost—”

You shift, trying to kick his leg under the table. He laughs, skillfully dodging and fighting back. You’re both reduced to kicking and fits of laughter.

Sam catches your leg in between his feet. “How about you come over and sit next to me? Don’t want you falling out of your chair after two shots.”

Your brows pinch, stubbornly. “How about—” you attempt to pull your leg free “—you come over—” He lets your leg go and you fall back, chair legs lifting off the ground. Your hands fly out trying to gain balance. He laughs so hard he almost keels over. You’re laughing and grinning too. “Shut up!”

Andreja and Barrett are back, drinks and glasses in hand. Her usual scowl is in place. “Please get a room, you two.”

“Andreja—” Barrett lightly scolds, as he sets the shot glasses down, “Let them have their fun. Just because your heart is cold and dead—”

“My heart is neither cold nor dead!”

You’re smiling, holding your shot glass out for Sam as he unscrews the liquor cap. “She just needs a stiff drink.”

Sam is grinning, topping off the shots. “She’ll get one. I’m done going easy on you all.”

“Alright, cowboy. Square up.”

. . .

“Jesus Christ, please, no more!” Your head hangs in your hands, insides churning. You’re not even drunk, the liquor just feels like a brick in your stomach. Sam is refilling your shot glass.

“Aww, what happened to all that talk about having game, Captain?” He coos from across the table.

Andreja takes her shot like a champ. “I will volunteer to take the captain’s drink, if—”

Barrett sways as he holds a hand out. “Noopee, that’s not how it works.”

“I might be willing to make an exception.” Sam says, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. Out of the whole night, he’s only taken a few shots.

You sigh in defeat. “Name it.”

“Next round, if you lose, you have to do a dare from the winning hand. Which, will most likely be me.” He adds with a smirk.

“Easy. Bring it. Just don’t make me drink any more of that motor oil.”

Andreja scoffs. “Motor oil? This is one of House Va’ruun’s finest liquors, made from plants grown in complete darkness.”

“Motor oil.” You say in near perfect sync with Sam and Barrett.

The round is played, Sam grins like a fool the whole time, right up until…

“21…”

All eyes turn to Barrett. “Which means I win? Yeah—I win! Ha!” He holds his arms up, face red from the alcohol.

Sam lays his cards out in defeat. Only slightly pouting. “Alright Barrett. Andreja and I will take our shots, and you have to come up with a dare for the captain.”

Barrett doesn’t take long to blurt it out. “I want the captain to give each one of us a kiss.”

Sam chokes, mid shot. Thumping his chest to get it down the rest of the way. Andreja looks at Barrett, horrified, paused with the glass at her lips.

She’s quick to stammer out, “W-well that is up to the captain, if they consent—I would not be opposed to…I mean, it is up to them.”

Barrett turns drunkenly to face you, “Whaddya say, cap?”

A quick glance at Sam, who watches you carefully, and your mind is made up. “Fuck it, let’s go. Come ‘ere, Barrett.”

You lean over holding Barrett’s face in your hands. The man looks more than a little intimidated. At the last second you twist his face to the side and kiss his cheek roughly, smiling and laughing as he giggles and squirms.

Andreja is more relaxed, no doubt thinking she’d get the same treatment, as you turn to face her. Your hands find her shoulders and hold her still. Just as she raises a brow at you, you’re pressing your lips to hers.

It’s relatively quick, only a few seconds long, but as you separate you feel her almost chase after you. She corrects this by clearing her throat and pouring herself a shot.

When you turn to Sam, across the table, he’s wide-eyed.

Getting up from your chair, you’re rounding to his side, slowly, grinning. The look in his eyes gives his feelings away. He’s torn between nervousness and anticipation. Hands gripping his jeans.

Like a cat closing in on a bird, you stalk closer toward him. His chest is rising and falling faster. Standing above him, Sam watches you from his chair.

Putting a hand on the back, you lean in closer. “You ready, cowboy?”

“Whenever you are, darlin’.”

In a rare move of confidence, your hand finds its way to his chin. Gently pulling his face to yours. This wasn’t like kissing Andreja, it was deeper. Slower. You took your time and enjoyed it. Noses nudging together. The soft tickle of his beard on your face. It was heaven.

There was a low whistle from Barrett across the table. You meant to pull away, suddenly aware that others were watching, and you had been kissing maybe a little too long for just a dare, but Sam held you in place with a hand at the back of your neck. He took off his hat and used it as a curtain, giving you two a little privacy as he kept kissing you earnestly. When you giggled, you could feel him smile into the kiss.

Maybe it was a minute. Maybe it was five minutes. But when you noticed the lack of noise from the table, you broke the kiss to look up. Both Andreja and Barrett were gone.

Sam’s gentle, kneading hand made its way to your hip. He pulled slightly, either trying to get your attention or bring you back in. “Looks like the game’s over.”

“So it is.”

He tugs at you a little. “You, uh, wanna take this upstairs—or maybe back to the ship?”

You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, whispering against them, just lightly teasing. “You’re gonna have to work a little harder for that.”

Pulling away, you can feel his fingers grasping at your clothes. A silent plea to stay. “What? What do you—work harder?”

You’re walking off now, grinning. “Oh, you heard me. You’ll have to get more creative than using a dare.”

Sam’s stubborn voice follows you. “Ok, maybe I will. Just wait until I turn the charm on—give you a good smolder.”

“Good luck!”

[spookyspecterino]

Confessions

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used.

Fighting, enemy death, language, confessions of love, kissing

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

So I started this with the typical canon scene in the game, tweaking it to how I would personally write it, and then said...wait, I could make something else entirely. So I wrote both. They're back to back, separated with a text divider.

This was requested by @wisperwin 😊 Hope you enjoy!

Requests for short 1K fics are open while I write out a longer fic. Send in your asks!

Sam’s favorite spot in Akila is more in the open than you imagined, it was basically a bar porch, but as soon as you sat down at a small table in the corner it felt like him. As if a tiny piece of himself lingered here. It wasn’t hard to imagine a younger version of Sam sitting and looking out at the courtyard on cool evenings just like this one, with the sun setting slowly on the horizon.

Even on your way here you noticed a difference. He seems happier, lighter on his feet. He’s taking his time with things, not rushing from task to task or place to place.

When he pulled you aside and invited you here, told you how special this place was to him, it had your heart fluttering like a small bird.

After sitting for a moment and looking out at Solomon Coe’s statue, Sam turns to you with a smile. “For the first time in a long time…I feel peaceful. Like I can just exist… and I have you to thank for that.”

“All I did was give some encouragement—you did all the hard work.” You say, shrugging sheepishly.

He smiles, shakes his head a little, “Don’t sell yourself short. It probably wasn’t easy dealing with my constant complaining about Lillian—and then actually going to meet her, and help her, and then escort her, and—”

He stops at the sound of your good-natured laugh. “You don’t have to list out everything, Sam. We might be here all night.”

“Yeah, yeah. What I’m really trying to say is thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’d do it a thousand more times if it meant seeing you this happy.”

His face softens, something in his eyes change. “Listen, there’s also this other thing I’ve been meaning to talk with you about.”

Your head tilts a little. “I’m all ears.”

Sam’s shoulders tense, he clears his throat, then takes a deep breath. “I have feelings for you—certain feelings. Feelings that I can’t really…that I don’t know how to…” He sighs, brows pinching together. “Sorry, this is hard for me.”

He shifts his weight slightly. “You know what, I’ll just say it. The truth is…I’m in love with you. I have been for a little while now.” He scoots to the edge of his chair, leaning in and placing his hands on the table. “I’ve been meaning to say something, but the timing was always off, or we were busy getting shot at.”

You can’t help but softly and breathlessly agree. “We get shot at a lot.”

“Exactly. I just uh—I needed to tell you before some other crisis inevitably came up. And I know this might be coming out of nowhere for you, I’m not—I’m not the most obvious guy.” He takes a deep breath. “So, if this is too sudden, or if you need time to think about it, or mull over your own feelings—I’m good with that. I’ll give you some space.”

His blue eyes find yours in the dim evening light. They’re uncertain, nervous. The way he holds himself, he’s trying not to fidget. He grips at the edges of the table one moment, then brings his hands up to trace his fingers along the lines in the wood top surface.

You’re caught watching his hands dance skittishly. Since you’ve met him, Sam Coe has worn the cool, calm, and stoic nature of a typical Freestar Ranger. His nervousness solidifies how seriously he’s taking this.

Without much forward thought, you reach across the table and hold his hands in yours. Maybe—once, or twice—you imagined what you might say to him if you were ever presented with this situation. But that all went out the window as soon as you started talking.

“It may be a little sudden—you’re a hard man to read sometimes—but I’m really glad you said something.” You give his hands a reassuring squeeze. “I love you too. Since NEON.”

Sam lets out a breath he’d been holding, some of it comes out in a chuckle. “Since NEON? Like, when we first got there, or when we last left—?”

“Does it really matter?” You ask, teasingly.

“Guess not. I just…now it’s my turn to be surprised. I really thought you were gonna turn me down.”

“You can’t be serious. I’ve been flirting with you so much.”

This makes him laugh. “I thought I was imagining things for a little bit, but when I started flirting back…”

“That was you flirting back?”

“Yes. I was really trying—oh, you’re teasing me, you’re having fun with this.” He shakes his head with a fond smile, leaning in too. His voice is affectionate. “Smartass from the moment I met you—knew you were trouble.”

Your faces are close now. “Ah, but you love me for it.”

“Damn right I do.” He pauses, eyes glancing down at your lips. One of his hands lets go of yours to bring your face closer, gently tugging at your chin. “Come ‘ere, you.”

He kisses you softly. Bristles tickle your face with just a brush of his lips against yours, they leave a hot trail in their wake. Searing and lingering on your skin.

Sam knows the effect he has on you, and if by some chance he didn’t before, he knows now as your breath shortens and you fight not to chase after him.

That half smile-half smirk breaks through his love-struck expression. “I love you. And later on, maybe I’ll show you just how much.”

Gunfire blasted into the metal walls around you. The sharp whizzing of bullets was much louder due to the enclosed space of the enemy ship. Crouched behind some cargo crates, you looked across the aisle to the other side of the narrow dead ended hallway. Sam leans up against his cover, also a short stack of Cargo.

He caught your eye and half-smirked. “Not looking good, is it?”

“Chances are slim, but—", you duck as a bullet whizzes past, “—but we’ve been through worse.”

He snorts, firing a few blind shots from cover. “When?”

“Oh, you know, that one time.”

“No, I don’t think I do—please, refresh my memory.”

“We were getting shot at, just like this.”

“Sweetheart—” He fires another shot but flinches back as chunks of the cargo crate fly near his face. “—that’s just about every day for us.”

“Yeah, but it was a really specific time.” You fire two shots, ducking in and out of cover. You don’t have time to count how many heads you see. “Uh, maybe like when we went to that zero-grav casino?”

“Almagest?”

“Yeah! That was definitely worse.”

“No way, we had that place cleared in 20 minutes, tops. And there was plenty of cover—” he leans, firing wide shotgun blasts in two concentrated areas “—and plenty of ammo, and we were never cornered, and—"

“—Sure.”

“What do you mean, ‘sure’? Why’d you say it like that?”

“I must have a different memory of how it went down, is all.”

He leans back against the cargo and laughs. “Are we really debating in the middle of a gun fight?”

“I’m happy to give this one to you. Really, I am.”

That made him laugh even harder. “Oh, you’re letting me win—you’re somethin’ else you know that?”

You hear a gap in enemy fire and take the opportunity to peak around. There are at least eight or nine more enemies crouched and moving around. You see the muzzles of their guns and crouch behind your cover just as their returning fire starts back up.

“Let’s say I was wrong—” He starts.

You’re quick, grin lighting up your eyes. “—is this a hypothetical? Are you doing hypotheticals now when you can’t admit you’re wrong?”

His head hangs down, you can see his shoulders bouncing. “Goddammit, you’re too funny for your own good.”

“I love making you laugh, even when we’re about to die or be captured by pirates.”

Enemy fire patters out, there’s some shouting from their end. Heavy footsteps approach. Sam readies his pistol; you pull out a knife. As soon as boots come into view, you kick the pirate’s legs. Sam fires a shot, and you sink your knife into their chest. The pirate jerks once and lies dead.

Sam straightens a little, calling out. “Hey, how ‘bout you send a few more down here! We could use the change of pace; this is starting to get old!”

The pirates immediately begin firing again.

He leans back against cover. “My point is, that if we’re in a worse position than when we were on Almagest, then these might be our final moments together.”

“Kind of a downer to start something that way but go on.”

 “I wanted to say a few ‘thank you’s, for all you’ve helped with.”

“Oh wow, is this like…your last will and testament? Are we doing that now?”

He laughs again as he leans out from cover and fires. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

You join him, firing at a pirate’s exposed leg. Your first shot clips a calf and there’s shouts of pain. Sam manages to take out a pirate that exposes themselves too soon. You both lean back into cover when Sam’s shotgun needs reloading.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me and Cora with pretty much everything. You didn’t have to, but you still did. That means a lot to me.”

“It was worth it, for you and Cora.”

Sam’s smile melts into a look of pure warmth and affection. It makes you pause, humor giving way to the gravity of the situation. He said his piece, it might be a good time to say yours. And if you end up living through this, then, you’d still have finally said what’s been on your mind for weeks.

You clear your throat, momentarily busying yourself by checking over your rifle. “And, since we’re being serious now, there’s something I wanted to tell you too.”

Somehow you feel more nervous saying this than facing the pirate firing squad behind you. When you’ve taken a deep breath, you meet his eyes. “I love you.”

You’re not sure how to read his wide-eyed expression so you just keep talking. “I don’t know exactly when it happened or when I knew for sure, but I’m head over heels for you, Sam. And if this is how we go out, then I’m just glad it’s with you.”

A gap in noise is your cue to fire. You straighten from cover, doing your best to quickly find a target. The top of a helmet is exposed. You catch a glimpse of the visor shattering as your rifle round hits. Something bumps your leg. You’re so caught off guard that you drop down, reaching for a knife.

But it’s Sam. He used your fire as cover to cross the aisle.

Before you can really say anything, he takes your face in his hands, pushes you up against the cargo, and roughly kisses you. It’s messy, a tangle of lips and rough, scratchy beard. Your teeth click together once or twice. The intense heat from his lips against yours and his hands on your face grounds you—tells you it’s real.

You’re too busy grasping at his jacket, shirt, the back of his neck—doing anything to bring him closer—that you don’t hear shouting or gunfire stop. There’s only faint recognition that new shots are being aimed somewhere else, or that it’s moving away.

It’s the ringing in your ears and the deafening silence that catches both of your attention. You each snap into action, pulling guns and whirling toward the aisle, expecting to see a pirate come into view. But no one’s there.

Instead, an altogether different voice calls out, “Freestar Rangers! If there’s anyone there, show yourself!”

Your hands go up immediately, Sam’s do too. “We’re not pirates! Don’t shoot!”

“Come out real slow, hands up!”

Moving out of cover, you see the ranger uniform and badge. The ranger’s eyes go wide. Their gun lowers. “Hot damn, Deputy. Got yourself into a pickle, didn’t ya?”

“Wouldn’t know what we would’ve done without you ranger, thank you.”

The ranger tips their hat in acknowledgement. Another voice—presumably a second ranger, calls them. They half turn to listen, then with a curt, parting nod they turn to leave.

You take a breath, caught by surprise at the rescue and more than a little mixed up emotionally. Clearing your throat, you try to act normal. “Well, we didn’t die. Shall we claim this as a victory or chalk it up to a stale—"

Sam’s gruff voice, followed by his hand spinning you around, gives you chills. “Hang on, I’m not done with you yet.”

This kiss is less desperate, it’s slower, and passionate enough to make your knees go weak. Sam’s hands knead at your hips before moving to your lower back to pull you against him.

When he leans back, leaving your head reeling, his smirk is the first thing you see. “I love you too, just in case that wasn’t obvious.”

Your grin is slow to spread, but it lights up every inch of your face. “I’m sorry, what was that? My ears are ringing, didn’t quite catch it.”

Something deep rumbles in his chest, he presses his lips to yours, separating out his words with stubborn kisses. “I’m—in love—with you—too.” He can see the glint in your eyes as you slowly open your mouth. “You can’t play the deaf card twice in a row.”

“Damn. Ok, just say it one more time before we go back to the ship.”

Sam chuckles, one hand coming up to brush a thumb along your jaw. “How about I show you later, instead?”

[spookyspecterino]

For the Drinking and the Dancing

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain once or twice.

No real warnings besides use of alcohol, mentions of drugs (aurora), and language. Lots of pining and soft moments. Sam is protective and a bit jealous.

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

Characters: Sam Coe, Walter, a little bit of Cora Coe.

This was silly and fun to write. If it gets a little sappy that's because I was listening to the La La Land soundtrack while writing 🥲

“Cheers to a successful deal that didn’t involve me shooting anyone!”

“Here, here!” Walter raises his glass with his usual reserved smile. His cheeks are tinted red. This was not the first round of drinks, but perhaps the third. Further back, the music boomed, and patrons of all sorts danced.

Sam laughs, raising his own beer. “Kinda wish we did shoot him, but cheers anyway!”

Downing the rest of your cocktail in one gulp, you nudged Sam who sat between you and Walter at the NEON bar. “The point is, I can get stuff done without violence. I’m quite proud of that.”

He grins, playfully nudging you back. “I never doubted you couldn’t. You’ve got a certain charm to you.”

“Oh, do I now?”

Walter, oblivious to the conversation, signals the bartender for more drinks. By the end of the night, he may end up paying a small fortune.

Waving off the offer for another beer, Sam gives you a secret, side-eyed smile. “Thought that much was obvious.”

“No, but I’d love to hear more.” You pick up your new drink and take a sip, eyeing Sam from over the glass.

“Maybe some other time, can’t be giving away every secret.”

“I bet if I could convince you to drink some more, you’d tell me everything.”

This makes him laugh, a wonderfully deep sound you desperately wanted to hear more of. “No can do, someone has to get you two back on the ship in one piece when the night is over.”

Walter leans closer, nearly bumping Sam’s beer out of his hand. “Who said we’re going back to the ship? Already? We’re just getting started.”

“Not yet, Walter. Sam was just telling me how he’s graciously playing chaperone tonight.” You wink at Sam as you take another gulp. The alcohol was definitely taking effect now, you’d never had such flirtatious confidence—or maybe this was just the first time you could really sit down and enjoy yourselves together.

Walter huffs, turning his nose up. “The only chaperone I accept is my wife.”

Your laugh is so sudden you almost spit out your drink. Sam is laughing too, both at Walter and your reaction. Recovering, you grin at the older man. “That brings up an excellent topic I’d love to explore.” You waggle your eyebrows. “Issa is so hot. And smart too. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw her. Seriously, nice catch!”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to choke on his beer.

Walter drunkenly nods his head in approval. “Well, my friend, it was a hard-won battle. She nearly outwitted me at every turn.” He held up a finger. “But it helped that I used to be quite a fox back in the day. And, if you can believe it, money had nothing to do with that.”

Leaning forward, you wrap an arm around Sam’s shoulder. Your cheeks nearly touch. “Whaddya say Sam, can you believe that?” You’re either too intoxicated or too caught up in the act to notice Sam’s face turn a light shade of red.

“It’s hard to picture.” You can hear his tone pick up a teasing lilt. “Maybe he recited Sebastian Banks’ speech with so much gusto she fell in love with him then and there.”

Walter barks out a laugh. “Too true, Mr. Coe. She’s heard me perform it more than a few times.”

“That is painfully cute.” You say, trying to stifle a laugh. Unhooking your arm from around Sam’s shoulders, you turn back to your drink, vision tunneling a little as the alcohol’s effects begin to set in with earnest.

Walter keeps talking with Sam, but you’re too busy trying to think of how many shots you’ve had that you zone the conversation out. Failing to come up with a number, you decide one more couldn’t hurt. Catching the bartender’s eye, you order a shot of something strong.

What you said earlier was true, not having to hurt anyone to get what you want was a very welcome change of pace, something you would try to do more often if it left you feeling this good after.

Or maybe it was the proud look in Sam’s eyes as you left the meeting.

On cue, like your brain had been holding back, your mind is filled with images of him from all manner of your adventures. It was most certainly the alcohol’s doing that made you smile all to yourself right before throwing back the freshly placed shot with enthusiasm.

Swaying a little, your arm leans against Sam’s as you recover from the harsh burn in your throat. It’s a light touch, but it serves to remind you that you’re sitting right next to him—you need only to turn, hold his face between your hands, and lean in a little…

Woah there. Reign it back in.

And, as if you share a neural link—as if he knew you were thinking about him, Sam’s leg leans into yours as he talks to Walter.

Something pangs in your heart, a strong and unspoken longing. Maybe you’re just drunk, the alcohol allowing your feelings to run wild. It was probably just a mistake on his part, nothing to put much thought into. Sneaking a glance at him, he’s smiling and talking carefreely.

Wow.

Was he always this handsome? Or is it the light and shadows making him look particularly dashing?

He glances at you, catching you staring. That small, almost imperceptible smirk that curls his lip as his eyes hold yours is enough to send your heart racing.

“Care to weigh in on this?” He asks, eyes reflecting his growing smile.

Your face flushes red. “On, uh—this?” Walter leans over to hear you more clearly, he sways slightly. Clearing your throat, you stammer, “Well, my opinions have always been—uh—my own. So…please, er—continue. I’d like to hear where this goes.”

Good save...probably.

“Sam, I doubt our Captain here has any knowledge on the complex inner workings of NEON corporation politics, you won’t find your saving grace with them.”

Sam continues watching you for a heartbeat. Leg still against yours. “Oh, I think I might.”

You sip your drink, acting as if you’d been a part of the conversation the whole time and quickly adopting a false confidence—all thanks to the alcohol. “I don’t like discussing politics.”

“Except when you talk about the UC.”

Walter chimes in too. “Or the colony war.”

You snort. “I have a strong opinion against tyranny. You do too, Sam.”

“It’s still politics.” Sam teases, sipping his beer. He’s nearly run out.

Looking to change the subject, you signal the bartender. “He’ll have a Whiskey.”

“No—” Sam starts to protest.

“Just one? I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling us. Plus, how am I going to get you to dance with me if you don’t have a drink?”

Good God. It was like your mouth had a mind of its own now. Maybe the lighting will hide the scarlet shade of red on your face.

Sam’s brows shoot up. “Dance with you? You want—dancing? Here? With me?”

“You’re my first choice.”

He shifts in his chair. “Dancing isn’t… I don’t really… I’m not very good at it.” His whiskey arrives in a neat, little glass. As if on instinct he takes it. He can see the disappointment on your face.

A spear slices through your heart. Your leg moves away from his. Feigning detachment and turning dramatically in order to keep the mood light, “Guess I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

You can see Sam fighting with himself as Walter, speech somewhat slurred, laughs. “My Issa wouldn’t take no for an answer. I had no love for dancing, but then I met her.”

It brings a smile to your face. “Invite her down, I’m sure she could use a drink and a dance, you haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“This isn’t the kind of dancing she enjoys, it’s more of an old age type—the waltz for example, is her favorite.”

Sam grunts, sipping his Whiskey. “I could get on board with that easier then…” he looks behind at the crowd swaying and dancing with their arms up. “Then whatever that is.”

Maybe he is just shy. Pushing away the feeling with expert precision, you’re back in high spirits again. “Where would you take Issa to dance, Walter?”

“Sometimes just in our living room, or on the roof. We have a cozy garden at home that tends to be her favorite. The lighting at night is particularly wonderful.”

You smile, leaning on the palm of your hand. “Sounds very romantic.”

Walter turns to stare deep into his drink, a smile from thoughts and memories just for him wrinkles his eyes. “To be young...” He chuckles, taking a sip. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Sam’s eyes are on you as you raise your glass. “I plan on it.”

“Speaking of Issa again,” Walter pushes back from his stool at the bar, “I’ve made up my mind. I’ve missed her very much and to talk about her like this… I fear I cannot leave without seeing her at least once more.”

Sam moves to get up, but Walter waves him off, straightening his shirt. “I’m quite alright. The bartender has my account, that will cover our tab. Please, stay, enjoy yourselves. I’ll be well taken care of with Issa.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am, young man. I’ve had a lifetime to perfect the act of sobriety.” And with a dip of his head, he turns to leave.

The way Walter can manage himself to seem entirely sober was a very impressive feat. He strides out the door, not stumbling once, walking in a straight line, with such casual suave that no one would be the wiser.

It leaves just you and Sam at the bar.

You can feel Sam’s eyes on you as your drink is nearly empty. He asks, gently, “How ya feeling?”

“Like I’ve got at least one more round in me. You?”

“I’ll be good after I finish this. You ok leaving after that? I don’t want to cut your well-deserved night short.”

“I might pass out if I continue, so it’s for the best honestly.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He pauses, chewing on his lip. “Listen, about the dancing—”

Hm. Not a topic you really want to get back into.

You wave a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I understand. I don’t want to force you or make you uncomfortable.”

His mouth opens to say more, but the bar tender—prompt as usual—appears for your order. Whatever Sam was going to say dies before he can say it.

“One more please.”

“Actually, make that two.”

This time, when you look at him, his smile reaches all the way to his eyes.

“Are you sure?” You ask, trying to hold back a smile.

“Why not. I should live a little. Enjoy my youth while it lasts.”

The shots arrive as if on cue. The service is really excellent here, you had to give it that.

Sam takes the small glass in his hand, raising it. “To you.”

You mirror him, smirking. “To me.”

His award-winning smile dazzles you just before he throws back the shot like an expert. When you throw the shot back you have a hard time not coughing as the burn threatens to scorch your throat on the way down.

You wipe your mouth, eyes nearly shut with a grimace. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be.” Without hesitation he picks up his whiskey and does something similar.

Holy shit, that’s hot.

He continues speaking as if he never drank anything. “It’s just a remnant of my younger days. I’ll probably be paying for it tomorrow morning.” He pauses, giving you a quizzical look. “What’s that look for?”

“Hm? Oh—uh, nothing.” You turn hastily back to your cocktail and try to do the same thing. You couldn’t fathom why you tried, this time you were reduced to a coughing and sputtering mess.

Sam’s hand is gentle on your lower back. He’s chuckling. “Easy, easy. You don’t need to impress me—you already have. In fact, you do all the time.” His face turns scarlet red as you look at him. “Er—ignore that. It’s the alcohol talking. We should—uh.” He looks toward the exit, through the sea of dancing people. “We should get going. Maybe get you some water when we’re back on the ship.”

Getting up from his stool first, he helps you down from yours, catching you as you stumble a little. It was an entirely different game trying to walk this drunk. Suddenly the dancing throngs of people seem fun, the loud music tempting.

Sam is by your side, a steadying presence. He smells like whiskey and pine. “Stay close, don’t want you to get lost.”

“Yes sir.” You laugh, leaning into him.

His chuckle fans out against your ear as his fingers tangle with yours. “Follow me.”

In the lead, Sam begins guiding you down into the crowd. The music becomes louder, the swaying beats tempting you to stay and move with them. Your heart sings to the melody of the song, bass thrumming in your bones. For a moment, surrounded by dancing and swaying people, you shut your eyes. Simply living and enjoying the happy crowd.

You aren’t sure when, but your hand is separated from Sam’s as your body begins to move and sway with the music. The alcohol clouds your mind, the people blend together. The only thing you feel is the music. It’s euphoric.

Why would you leave? Where were you even going?

Unable to remember what you were just doing, you give in, letting your body move to the rhythm, swallowed into the crowd. The dancers on the stage, in their silly costumes, make you laugh and dance along.

Someone bumps into you; hands catch you before you can fall forward. Turning, you weren’t expecting to see a tall stranger. He smiles down at you, the light playing off the angles of his face.

“S’cuse me.” He purrs as he gets a closer look at you.

“All good.” You say with a half-smile. He’s not bad looking.

“Care to dance with me?”

“Oh, well—I mean, I think I was supposed to be doing something. But…”

“One dance won’t hurt, will it?” His gaze turns thoughtful. “I’ve got something here that could make our night even better—if you’d like some.” He begins to pull something out of his pocket, a small cannister with blue and neon pink trimming.

Just as the tiny voice in the back of your mind, one you were more than fine with ignoring in your drunken state, tells you to decline, an arm snakes around your lower back.

“No, they wouldn’t. We were just leaving.”

Sam, your savior, stares down the man. Un-yielding and firm. Holding you close.

The man deposits the little cannister back into his pocket with a nod. “Apologies, I didn’t realize they were taken. Have a good night.” The man turns, weaving through the crowd and out of sight.

Sam keeps his arm around you. The lights reflect off his teasing smile. “I’m gone one minute, and you manage to get yourself a new dancing partner. I can’t let you out of my sight.”

“To be fair, he bumped into me.”

Sam leans in, lips brushing feather-light against your ear. “I’m not surprised. It’s that irresistible charm of yours again.” He starts guiding you out of the crowd, his arm snaked around your back and holding your hip.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous, Sam Coe.”

“Damn right I am.”

It catches you by surprise. All you can do is look up at him, studying his face as he navigates you both through the crowd. He glances at you, no doubt sees that look in your eyes, and smiles. It melts your heart on the spot.

Out of the crowd and leaving the astral lounge, Sam unwraps his arm from around you. “Now I’m really serious, stay close. If you get distracted on the streets of NEON, I’ll have a much harder time finding you—and rescuing you.”

His hand finds its way to yours, linking your fingers together feels natural and easy. “I don’t need rescuing.” You scoff, playfully.

“So, you had that whole situation under control?” He asks, beginning to walk by your side.

“Absolutely.”

“Even when he was trying to offer you aurora?”

“That’s what that was? Huh…”

“What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know, something, I guess. I’ve never tried aurora... I wonder what it’s like.”

Sam chuckles. The bright lights of the NEON streets were starting to hurt your eyes. “It’s a hallucinogenic, really addictive.”

“Is it fun?”

He takes his time answering. “It was when I was younger, but I’m not going to let you try it this drunk—or with a complete stranger.”

You laugh, bumping your shoulder into him. “So protective.”

“Can you blame me? You’re very—you’re special to me.”

If your mind hadn’t been swimming with alcohol and your vision swaying, you might have caught onto his more serious tone. Instead, you’re grinning and teasing him. “But not special enough to dance with?”

His hand squeezes yours. “I knew you were still hung up on that.” You’re nearing the exit now. “Just be patient.”

Outside, the wind blows, a harsher and more uncomfortable setting than the warmth of the city. “What does that mean? Be patient?”

The NEON guards pay you no mind as you walk through the sensors. Sam keeps holding your hand even as you near the ship. “It means exactly what it means.”

“Saaam.” You playfully complain. “You know I’m too drunk for games. Are you even affected by the whiskey?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice with drinking.” When he sees your expression turn to a half pout, he grins. “But just a little. It’s enough.”

He opens the hatch of the ship for you. Your face tilts into a full-on pout as his hand leaves yours. “Enough for what?”

Sam strides onto the ship and guides you toward your quarters, a fully separate room outfitted just to your liking. He finds your age-old record player—that cost a few favors and quite a lot of credits—without much trouble.

Turning on a slow song, one of your favorites, he takes your hand again and brings you close, placing his other on your lower back. “Enough for this.”

Moving gently at first, he sways with you. His footwork is simple, but he doesn’t stumble or even step on your feet. You’re so surprised your mouth opens and closes, unable to find words. He’s obviously pleased with himself as he smirks and slowly twirls you around to the soft music.

“You look surprised.” He whispers, inches away from your face.

“You’re—you’re good at this.”

He chuckles. “It feels natural with you.”

Continuing on, you’re both swaying and twirling around your room, occasionally giggling, and laughing as you try new moves or stumble a little. You lean your head onto his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as you begin to slow down, groggy from drinking. You can feel his heartbeat—it’s fast and strong as his chest rises and falls.

This little moment in a vast universe is everything.

When the music falls quiet, you both keep swaying slowly. Too enraptured to let go. Sam’s strong hands held you close, his head leaned against yours. Only when a yawn sneaks its way out of you does he gradually stop.

Sam pulls back, still keeping you in his arms. “Should get you to bed now.”

The way his voice rumbles through his chest keeps your head there. “I want to stay like this. Just a little longer.”

“You’re already half asleep.”

“I like this. I don’t know when we’ll be able to do it again.”

He hums softly. “We can do it as often as you like, just ask.”

“Really?”

“Promise.”

“Ok.” Lifting your head from his chest you sleepily smile at him. Your faces are very close together. It’s intimate. For a moment you think you might kiss.

“Sam.” You whisper, eyes glancing at his lips. But you hold back—that familiar voice in your mind warning you.

Something changes in Sam’s eyes, there’s a hint of sadness in his gentle smile. His thumb lightly brushes against your jaw line. He presses a kiss to your cheek. It’s soft and lingering. “Sleep well.” He whispers. “There’s water by your bed for you.”

Pulling away from you he steps out of your quarters, eyes never leaving yours. He disappears behind the hatch as he closes it.

Instead of feeling rejection, there’s a sort of relief. Your first kiss shouldn’t be when you’re too drunk to stay awake.

Sam is a good man.

. . .

“And when Charles Dickens first wrote David Copperfield in 1847—”

“Cora, honey, that’s really interesting, but please talk a little quieter.”

The girl smiles at you knowingly. “I’ll come back later, Captain. But you won’t be able to escape my summary forever.”

You lift your head from the table, trying to use your arms to shield your eyes from the ship’s lighting. “I’m really not trying to escape, but I appreciate you.”

Cora giggles and makes her way to another part of the ship, taking her book with her. You set your head back down on the cool surface of the table, covering it partially with your arms. Someone sits across from you, scooting a glass your way.

“Did you not drink the water I left you last night?”

You groan. “You left that for me? Wasn’t sure where it came from. A fairy godmother maybe.”

Sam chuckles. “Please don’t start calling me that.” His weight leans on the table. “Last night was too much for you, huh?”

“Maybe. I feel like absolute death—and I can’t even remember how much fun I had.”

He pauses. “You can’t remember anything?”

Making an effort to sit up fully, a slow and nauseating process, you squint, trying to see him. “I remember being at the bar. That’s about it.”

He watches you with a smile—a smile that says he knows more than you. “Well, that’s a real shame.”

Your stomach flips, and it isn’t from the hangover. “Don’t tell me I made a complete ass of myself last night?”

“No. No, nothing like that.”

“You look quite pleased with yourself—it’s very suspicious.”

He leans back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

You’re almost relieved, except… “Then why are smiling at me like that?”

Sam gets up from his chair. Leaning closer toward you, voice low, “Well one thing happened.”

“Which was…?”

“We danced a little.”

“We what? Are you serious?”

“Mhm.” He begins backing up further away into the ship. “It was nice.”

You’re in no position to move, even sitting up has your head reeling—not to mention this new discovery. “We danced and I can’t even remember it?”

“It’s a real shame. I’m also guessing you don’t remember what I told you last night before you went to bed, either.”

“That’s not funny. What’d you say?”

He chuckles. “Maybe it’ll come back to you.” He’s rounding the corner now, turning out of sight.

“Hey, hey!” You wince at the volume of your own voice. “Get back here and tell me how I convinced you to dance with me!”

Sam’s laugh echoes off the walls.

[spookyspecterino]

Soft Moments in the Stars

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used.

Anxiety, worry, some fear (Sam is there to comfort you and calm you down). Comfort, breathing exercises, reassurance.

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

Characters: Sam Coe. Mentions of Cora Coe, Sarah, Barrett, and Andreja.

Haha, bet you didn't expect another so soon! This is short. But I really needed it. Now that the poll requests are done, I can get into the heavier more plot related stuff >:) (Aka: my sad era)

Staring up at the stars, what a primal instinct it’s been for all of humanity since the dawn of creation. The unknown, the curiosity, the wonder in it. How long have humans been looking up at the night sky? And how many of your ancestors have done just the same; sitting, staring, and questioning?

What’s out there? How do you fit in to any of it? In this vast field of stars, of people, of planets—why are you the one to go on this cosmic journey?

New Atlantis had too much light pollution to look up and stargaze at night. Akila city had too much dust and sand in the air. But now, in the cockpit of the Frontier, the entire universe stretches out for your curious, pondering eyes.

Quiet moments, when everyone is asleep and the ship drifts across the blackest sea, are rare. It’s an opportunity to sit and really think. At times, maybe the constant hustle and bustle from place to place, mission to mission, is good. It’s a distraction, that much is clear. The lively conversations among your crew, Sarah jotting down notes about unexplored systems, Cora with her enthusiastic book reports—is comforting.

You may not always have them. It may be, in time, this quiet, contemplative silence is all you have left.

It’s a chilling, anxiety-ridden truth that you’ve been forced to think of more and more. Especially now.

With every new temple you discover, every new power you gain, a rift grows between you and the others. There’s a distinct feeling to it.

Sarah and Noel look at you like you’re something to be studied. Barrett uses constant humor and jokes to cover his nervousness. Andreja feels threatened by the power imbalance.

Only Sam continues to treat you the same.

Sam—wonderful, optimistic, loving, Sam.

Your shining light in the dark.

Every outcome is uncertain, but his promises of staying with you—always being at your side, no matter what—is a comfort unlike anything else.

A long-winded sigh leaves you. Your mind can’t help but wander into the worst-case scenarios or worry about the unknown. If these temples turn you into some kind of monster… what then? If your destiny takes you on a different path than his, how can you see it coming? Could you even prevent it?

What about Cora? Will she grow up without you? Her own path taking her elsewhere?

Is this all for nothing? Is this endless space an indifferent, uncaring, void that only seeks to be filled with violence—

Soft hands caress your tense shoulders. “Hey. What’re you doing up?”

Like a light switch being flipped, the anxious, spiraling thoughts cease. A lucid calm washes over you.

You lean back in your pilot’s seat, feeling the warmth of Sam behind you. “Couldn’t sleep.” You murmur.

He hums softly, leaning down closer to you. “What’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Hmm…” He presses soft kisses to your shoulder, gently kneading the other. “Describe how you’re feeling.”

“Frustrated. I guess. I have so many questions.”

His thumbs move to massage between your shoulder blades. “I can tell, you’re very tense.”

This makes you chuckle, a breathy and tired sound. You can feel his short beard against your neck. His lips ghost over your skin. “Come back to bed, we can work some of that frustration out.”

A very tempting offer. Other nights you would happily accept to be whisked away in his arms, forget everything, and curl up next to him to start a new day. But something stops you.

He can feel your hesitation. His lips hover and his hands pause.

“It’s…It’s not just that…” You frown at the stars. Sam’s faint reflection in the glass watches you with caring, patient eyes.

“I’m…I’m scared—terrified, actually.” As if a great floodgate opens, you release your thoughts into the still air. “I don’t know what’s coming next; I rely on Constellation to have at least some idea of what we’re getting into. Seeing Sarah and Noel just as confused as I am…it’s really unsettling. These temples and powers…what if they change me into someone—or something—unrecognizable?”

Your breath quickens. “I don’t know what to do. There’s so much responsibility on my shoulders now, it’s all so sudden. What if I screw up? What if I get someone hurt—what if I get you hurt? Or if I make the wrong choice and—”

“Whoa, whoa. Easy. Take a deep breath.”

You do, filling your lungs just as he does, as he guides you along.

In and out. Slow. In and out.

Your heart calms, just a little, but your racing thoughts still tumble around your mind. “Thanks.” You whisper, leaning your head back against his shoulder and closing your eyes.

“Stand up. I wanna hold you.”

His hands guide you out of the chair, sliding under your arms and around you like a safety net. Your hands lay over his. They’re always so warm, while yours are always cold.

His body presses against yours, flooding you with his warmth, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He murmurs into your skin. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. I will always be with you.” His fingers tangle with yours, smooth and practiced.

“It’s natural to make mistakes—and it’s not your fault. You’re learning just like the rest of us. There’s no way you can predict the future, so go easy on yourself. Making mistakes is human.” He trails light kisses up your neck to the shell of your ear. “As for everything else—we take it one step at a time, together. If something doesn’t feel right, we can adjust or take a break. Don’t push yourself. The universe isn’t going anywhere.”

Tears dot the corner of your eyes as you smile and nod. Your voice is barely a whisper. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime, love.”

You take some more steadying breaths, feeling your lungs fill and empty out rhythmically. “You always know exactly what to say.”

He chuckles, his breath is warm against your skin. “I know you, and I know how it feels to be weighed down by anxious thoughts.”

After a few more minutes of watching the stars, feeling your mind slow and your thoughts ease, “I think I’m ready for bed now.”

“You sure? I can give you some more time alone if you need it.”

“Nah.” You turn in his arms to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You’re greeted with the softest blue eyes and a loving smile. “I’m good now.”

Sam presses his forehead to yours. “I love you. You know that right?”

“Of course.” You press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too.”

His content, happy, sigh—one of your favorite noises—lifts your heart out of the gloom.

[spookyspecterino]

You'll Be Ok

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain once.

No spoilers for the main game or any quests, this is just a small, standalone thing.

Blood, injury, language, pining, talks of marriage

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

Characters: Sam Coe, Sarah Morgan (briefly). Mentions of Cora Coe.

Really fought with myself to keep this simple and sweet so I can jump into writing out more on my To-Do list. I'm very excited for what's coming. Stay tuned! :)

“Oh shit, that really hurts.”

Sam is by your side in an instant, crouching and helping you into a sitting position in the grass. “Don’t try to move. Let me see.” His face is pinched, brows knitted together.

In the distance the large alien creature thunders off, satisfied with the damage it’s done. One horn stained red.

You lift your hand slowly, palm covered in blood. Your blood. Sam sucks in a harsh breath before stopping himself. His reaction wasn’t what you’d hoped for. “Is it…is it bad?” The idea of looking at the wound in your abdomen makes your stomach churn. The leather of his jacket wrinkles under your iron tight grip.

“It’s not good.” He murmurs, pressing his own hands on top of yours. They’re warm, a different kind of warm than what’s currently leaking out of you. “But you’re tough, you’ll be ok.” He repeats himself under his breath. “You’ll be ok.”

The added pressure on the wound makes you groan in pain. You lay back, the short grass of the clearing pricks at your exposed skin. Grey clouds release tiny raindrops that dot your face, but you don’t notice. The wet feeling around your stomach spreads, causing your clothes to stick to your skin.

The pain continually ramps up and you’re gasping for air as you speak. “Being impaled by a space cow wasn’t on my to-do list today.”

Sam can’t help himself from chuckling nervously as he looks around, scanning for cover. “Was it ever on your to-do list?”

You grit your teeth, but the corners of your mouth still curl slightly. “Don’t be sassy with me, I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying today, not if I have anything to say about it.” His eyes lock onto a cave in the nearby cliffside. “It’s starting to rain, we’re gonna have to move. There’s a cave nearby—I’ll carry you. Keep putting pressure on it.”

His hands are gone, taking their warmth with them, and a moment later he’s doing his best to carry you bridal style. Being moved intensified the pain and you bit down hard on your lip to stop from crying out. The surrounding landscape spins nauseatingly.

Sam was hurrying, holding you close to him as he ran, your face pressed into the crook of his neck. He could feel your faint breath on his skin. Heavier rain drops splashed against the brim of his hat. He glanced down at you to see your eyes pinched shut. Just under your arms he could see the blossoming stain of red. Sam avoided looking at it, for his own sake, focusing on getting you out of the rain instead.

“Almost there.” He pants. Panic and fear threatened to overwhelm him more than the physical strain ever could.

 “Cross the threshold and we’re married.” You whisper into his neck. If you hadn’t been that close, he wouldn’t have heard you.

His heart skips a beat. “What?”

You were struggling to speak. Sentences coming out broken and separated by breaths. “Read it in a book Cora gave me about—old Earth customs. People—used to cross the threshold of their home—and that would be their marriage custom.”

“So, you’re telling me you want us to get married in a cave?” He jokes lightly.

Your returning laugh is breathy, almost as if you’re falling asleep. “We’re cave people.”

He sets you down on the rocky ground. Your face twists in pain and your blood-stained hands ball up. Your arms are covered in it too. The air is noticeably cooler inside and the light from the entrance is bright enough for Sam to see what he’s doing.

He very quickly tears into his bag looking for medical supplies, all the while trying to talk and keep you talking. With most of his focus on helping you, he says whatever comes to mind. “We’re not going to get married in a cave. I’m gonna take you to Akila city and marry you there. Mayor Cartwright will say something sappy, and we’ll laugh.”

His eyes flicker to your face to see you expressionless. Eyes closed. “Hey, hey, stay with me.”

It takes a moment for you to respond. “…still here.” You’re fighting for breath now. “Sounds nice.”

“What sounds nice?” He asks, pulling out bandages and a trauma pack.

“Getting married in Akila.”

Dear Lord, did he actually say that? Sam’s face flushes red. “I—I hope that’s not too soon, or weird, or—” oh, he was fucking this up big time. “Let’s just forget I said anything, I’m rambling.”

He can hear your lungs slowly pulling in air as you try to speak. “Death bed proposals are so romantic.”

“Sarcasm at a time like this?” Sam’s smile threatens to break through. “You’re killin’ me.”

“Not my best joke—I’ll admit that.”

Ripping the lower half of your shirt, Sam’s fingers are as gentle as can be against your searing skin. Part of his brain chastises him for not asking permission to touch you, while the other half is euphoric at the fact that he is in fact touching you. Sam blinks hard, attempting to clear his mind and focus.

Your abdomen is covered in blood, and he does his best to wipe it away to get a clear look at the wound. It’s not as bad as he originally imagined, small but deep. You’d need to see a doctor after this, but at least he could stabilize you for now.

He pulls out gauze, pressing it down, and wraps bandages around you—eyes flickering up to your face every few seconds. After injecting you with a trauma kit he sits back, hands still pressed on you, but gentler now. “How’s that, better?”

You sigh with relief as the pain fades, the medicine coursing through and doing its job. Your hand finds his and gives it a weak squeeze. “Yeah. Much better.”

“I’m going to radio the ship, have them land closer to us. I’ll be back in a second.” His hand lingers as if he’s fighting with himself.

Outside, the rain is pounding. He stands at the mouth of the cave watching it come down as he calls the Frontier. The amount of blood on his hands makes him pause. They’re soaked with it; his shirt and jacket are too. He’ll be washing out the calloused grooves of his hands for an hour, at least. How close did he come to losing you? The thought makes his entire body tense.

“Frontier, come in.”

“We read you, Sam.” Sarah’s voice crackles over the radio.

“Captain’s injured, we need an immediate evac. Sending our location now.”

“Received. Hang in there, we’re on our way.”

Sam shuts off the radio and makes his way back over to you. Some of the color has returned to your face, and as far as he can tell the bleeding has stopped. He kneels next to you, feeling for a pulse on your neck. It’s steady and growing stronger. He might’ve imagined it, but you seemed to lean into his touch.

“You still with me?” he asks, voice half a whisper.

“Always.” You reply softly, drifting in and out of sleep.

He cups your face in his palm and leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. As your breathing pattern changes to slow and steady, Sam smiles, leaning his forehead against yours. “Our wedding in Akila is going to be beautiful.”

[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.”

[spookyspecterino]

Left Behind

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. Use of They/Them pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.

Characters: Sarah, Barrett, Sam Coe. Mentions of Cora Coe and Lillian

No spoilers for the end of game or Sam's romance questline

A little bit of angst, but with a happy ending, language, a sprinkle of pining. No official romance with Sam has started in this fic, but the hint of one forming is there.

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.

This idea came to me while playing the game and going through the many different conversations about Sam’s ex-wife, Lillian. I’ve since finished his romance questline, and needless to say, I loved it and the whole thing was worth it. More is on the way. I have written many outlines. I have a particular feeling that I'm going to need a starfield masterlist here soon.

Florescent lights in the interior of the Frontier. You’d have to change those, because now more than ever, you wanted to be anywhere other than here. Every action was spurred by this increasing desire to get the hell out. Things were shoved half hazard into your bag. You took only a few meager supplies, rationalizing that more could be scavenged from the temperate planet.

A deep voice over your shoulder only makes you frown harder. “Hey, you ready to go? Looks like a good planet.”

Maybe it wasn’t the lighting that made you want to leave, but it didn’t help.

“Yeah—uh, actually. Sarah—”

Your friend looks up from messing with the ship’s calibration. “Hm?”

“You wanna head out?”

She’s unsure what to do. Her eyes flicker to Sam. “Oh, er—sure.” Slowly, as if waiting for you to change your mind, she gets up to start collecting her gun and some supplies.

With a halfway look over your shoulder at Sam, “Gonna take Sarah with me today. Spend some time with Cora, or, I don’t know, play cards with Barrett.”

Or go think about Lillian

Sam doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. With your pack slung over your shoulder, you’re already heading toward the exit. “Ready Sarah?”

“All set Captain.”

The sound of the hatch opening and closing marks your speedy dismissal. Sam is left where he stood. Brows pinched. The ship is deathly quiet and oddly empty without you.

And Sam does what you suggested. He sits with Cora, listening to his daughter describe the books she’s reading, listens to all her theories on what the books’ themes are, listens to her feelings on the books’ authors—it takes up only a few hours. And he likes it, he always does, but somethings’ missing. Somethings wrong.

And you’re still not back. He’s bored to tears and can’t shake that funny feeling. It’s probably nothing. Right?

After a few more hours, when he tried to take a nap and couldn’t, he got up and decided to scan the planet. And then rescan it. Then scan the system, then rescan it.

Why’d you leave him behind?

Yesterday you were fine. Looking at him with those bright, happy eyes of yours. You were such a good listener—the way you leaned in, focused all your attention on him. It made him want to keep talking. Sam sighed, maybe a little louder than he intended, and leaned back in his chair, leg bouncing.

“What’s wrong, friend?”

He snapped out of his thoughts as Barrett appeared. “Not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. You’re shuffling around the ship like a kicked puppy.” He leans in a little. “You missin’ the Captain?”

Sam crosses his arms. “That’s none of your business.”

This makes Barrett grin even more, as infuriating as that is for Sam. “Oh sure, sure…I just can’t help but notice they decided to take Sarah today.”

“No shit.” Sam mumbles, looking away.

“Does that…bother you?” He holds up his hands in defense. “Not trying to be nosy, just attempting to help.”

“You’ve never asked if something’s bothered me before—or if you could help with it.”

“Well, it’s no secret the captain prefers to take you along.” He waggles his eyebrows. “As in they take you everywhere, man. Even Sarah was surprised when they asked her instead. It was more than a little awkward.”

Sam only groans and rubs a hand over his face.

“Did you two get into a fight?” Barrett leans in. “A little lover’s quarrel?”

“No! No—we’re not even…it’s not like that—there was no…I…” Sam’s jaw twitches. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

“I don’t need you to be my counselor, Barrett.”

“Alright. Alright. Have fun trying to figure out why you’re stuck on the ship. Who knows, maybe you’ll figure out the reason they’re mad at you…in a month—or two.”

Sam frowns. “How do you know they’re mad at me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” Barrett laughs. “You don’t even know you’re in the doghouse? Oh, you’re doomed.”

“Damnit.” Sam hisses. “Ok! ok. Barrett…” Sam grits his teeth as his friend slowly turns to face him with a grin. “Please help.”

“Say no more friend.” He claps his hands once, sitting across from Sam and getting comfortable. “Ok, how bad was the fight?”

“I told you, there wasn’t one.”

“You didn’t fight? Not even an argument?”

“Nope. Everything was normal yesterday.”

Barrett runs his fingers through his beard, deep in thought as he concentrates. “What did you last talk about?”

Sam sighs. This was already more than he bargained for. “Lillian.”

“Oooh, ex-wife troubles, huh?”

“Watch it, Barrett.”

“Alright, alright. What about the conversation before that?”

“Lillian, again.”

Barrett gives him a look. “Annnd the one before that?”

“Uh…I think it was…it was about Cora and Lillian.”

“How many times have you talked about Lillian with the captain?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to explain what Lillian’s like and what we’ve been through.”

“So, I’m guessing there’s been quite a few?”

“Sure, you could say that.”

The all-knowing Barrett nods. “There it is.”

“There’s what?”

“You two obviously have feelings for one another—” He holds up a finger as Sam tries to interject. “—don’t bother denying it, I see the little glances you give each other when you think no ones’ looking.”

Sam’s face tints a light shade of red despite his frown.

It delights Barrett and he continues on. “And since you two wanna be together and do all that sappy, lovey-dovey stuff, don’t you think constantly bringing up your ex-wife is a bit of a buzzkill?”

“I’m just trying to express how I feel. Can I help it that I’m constantly mad at Lillian?”

“That’s ok—I mean you obviously need to see a professional about it—but don’t bring it up every conversation. Especially when they’re trying to be sweet with you.”

“Sweet with me?”

“The lingering touches, the glances, the way they laugh at your jokes even when they’re terrible.”

“My jokes aren’t that bad.”

“Do you see Sarah and I laughing?”

“Erm…no, no I guess not.”

“Maybe ask them how they’re doing or ask them about their life. Lend an ear if somethings bothering them, but also, don’t try to fix it for them. Sometimes people just want to vent.”

“But that’s what I was doing—venting about Lillian.”

“You were doing it too much.”

“So, vent, but don’t do it too much? You’re not making any sense, Barrett.”

Barrett shifts into a straighter posture in his chair. “Let me run you through a scenario.”

He leans to the left as Sam watches with a raised eyebrow. “’Hello, Mr. Sexy Space Cowboy, how are you today?’” He makes over-exaggerated doe eyes to really sell it.

He shifts over to the right side of his chair and adopts a deeper, over the top, gravelly voice. “’I talked to my ex-wife, the mother of my child, last night. Here’s the specific details of our relationship and our history.’”

“’Oh, well, that’s nice. What if we talk about something else—’”

“’All I think about or talk about is Lillian.’”

Sam waves a hand, stopping Barrett. “It’s not like that. Plus, I’m not gushing over Lillian–I’m not even talking highly of her.”

“The fact that you keep bringing her up sends its own message.”

“What kind of message?”

“The sort of message that says you’re not over her.”

“But I am, I really am.”

“Have you explicitly said that in these conversations you’re having?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Seeee? Ok, let’s put you in the opposite position. The captain starts bringing up one of their old partners, constantly. They vent and they tell you all the horrible things about them, and all the good things too, but it’s like every conversation something about their partner comes up. How does that make you feel?”

“Wait, were they in a serious relationship?”

“Oh yeah. The most serious. Picket fence with a dog kind of relationship.”

Sam grips the handles of his chair. “When did they tell you this?”

“No, no, no this is for the demonstration. But do you see what I mean? I could tell you were getting a little on edge there.”

Sam clicks his tongue, leaning back and looking away. “I was not.”

“You looked like you were about to jump out of your seat.”

“…Ok, maybe I was.”

“Now imagine if that was real, and they brought them up as much as you do with Lillian.”

A hard pit forms in Sam’s stomach. “Alright, you’ve got a point there.”

“Doesn’t feel great, does it?”

Sam runs a hand through his hair with a long sigh. “I get it now. But how do I fix it? By bringing it up, isn’t that still talking about Lillian?”

“In a way, yes. You just have to get over that first hurdle and then let the love flow.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Let your feelings out!”

“That isn’t…that’s not really my style.”

“You’d better change that. Cause if not, you’re gonna get left behind more often, you’re going to grow even more distant, and someone else is bound to show up, you know that. The captains’ a catch.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“So just go out there and explain how you feel. And while you’re at it, confess you’re in love with them.”

Sam chuckles nervously. “That’s way too soon.”

“Ok, if the time isn’t right then maybe save that for later, when you inevitably mess up again. I will admit I like the dramatics a little too much.”

“What do you mean mess up aga—”

“It’ll happen. But we should really talk about if your approach doesn’t work.”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

“The damage might’ve already been done. The captain may think you’re not over Lillian.”

“But I’ll tell them I’m not.”

“It might be harder to convince them than simply saying a few words.”

“So, what do I do?”

“You gotta let them go.”

“What?”

“You gotta give them their space and some time. Let them mull it over. You can’t force someone to be with you, and you certainly can’t force them to stop being mad at you. It would only make things worse.”

“You’re suggesting, if I talk to them and they’re still mad, I just…let them figure it out and step away?”

“If you love something, set it free. If it returns, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never yours to begin with.”

“Ah, clever. You had to sneak a phrase in there didn’t you?”

“It’s been too long since our game, friend. You spend all your time at the front trying to catch the captain’s eye.”

Sam’s head was starting to hurt and the pit in his stomach only grew when he imagined you exploring without him on a regular basis. He closes his eyes. “I don’t know if I could lose them. It would… it would tear me apart. I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“That’s love.”

“I’ll talk with them when they get back. Or do you think I should go out there and find them?”

“The dramatic part of me wants you to do that…but the practical part says no.” He looks out the ships’ window at the sunset and mumbles, “Plus it’s not even raining.”

“What does rain have to do with anything?”

“Confessions in the rain always have more umph to them. Best to wait.”

Sam groans. “I’m gonna go stir crazy in here.”

“Just relax, think about what you’re going to say. In the meantime, shall we play a few rounds of our game?”

Their game of back-and-forth sayings has Sam feeling better, or maybe it was simply talking with Barrett, but it was late into the night when they finished, and you were still nowhere to be found. Feeling defeated, Sam went to bed, tossing and turning endlessly before falling into a restless sleep. The little dreams he could remember consisted of trying to find you, and chasing a ghostly figure that wouldn’t stay still.

It’s late into the next morning when Barrett registers you and Sarah on the ship’s scanner. Finally returning after your scouting expedition on the planet. What Sam would have given to spend the night out under the stars with you, it makes him burn with envy at the thought.

However, he quickly forgets about it as you come into the Frontier laughing and smiling with Sarah. Talking about some weird rock formation you saw on your travels.

“Certainly odd shaped.” Sarah laughed.

“Never seen one that big. Rock or otherwise.” You replied grinning, sending Sarah into another fit of laughter.

Sam almost didn’t want to spoil your good mood, a wave of uncertainty threatened to knock him over. In fact, he was so jostled seeing you happy and laughing without him that he avoided looking at you. Preferring to mess with the straps of his holster or fiddle with his jacket out of insecurity. Maybe you would be happier without him. Maybe he should just let you go—

“Hey, Sam. Can we talk?”

Your heavenly voice is both music to his ears and the reason his heart pounds out of his chest. He looks up at you, startled, confidence wavering, and sees your gentle eyes and smile.

“Uh, sure.”

You nod toward the hatch. “Let’s go outside.”

Sam catches Barrett’s encouraging look as he leaves. The fresh air helps, a little, after being cooped up in the ship for a day. You’re wringing your hands together and kicking a branch around as he joins you. Seeing you so anxious ties Sam’s stomach into painful knots.

You stand up straighter, shoulders squared. “Thanks for agreeing to talk.” Sam prepares for the worst. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

An apology? He wasn’t expecting it and his reaction said as much.

“The way I acted was rude and inconsiderate. I should’ve said something to you much earlier, rather than letting you rightfully assume you would be joining me instead of Sarah. For that, I’m sorry.”

He took a step closer, fighting the urge to fidget. You looked just as nervous as he was, and for a brief moment he wondered why. The apology did help, but his biggest question was:

“Why did you leave me behind?”

Your jaw flexed, eyes skittering around the landscape before taking the plunge. “I…I needed a break, I think—from talking about Lillian.” You were quick to raise your hands. “Not that I don’t want to support you and let you talk about your problems…I was just…”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes squeezed shut, you started over. “I care for you. That’s no secret. But sometimes I have my limits. Hearing you talk about Lillian—I want to be able to help you, and I don’t see any way that I can, when it comes to her. And that hurts. It makes me feel like lending an ear and my support isn’t enough—like I’m not enough. And the way you talk about her sometimes…” You trail off with a crestfallen look out into the distance. “What I’m really trying to get at is that stepping away from it for a day really helped. I have a clearer mind now and I’d like to resume our usual exploring together.”

So, Barrett was right—not that Sam was ever going to tell him. He starts slowly. “Well, I think it’s time for me to apologize now.”

“N-No, you don’t have to—”

He smiles, good-naturedly. You were always so kind to him. “Hang on now, let me finish.” He’s feeling more confident now, the fidgeting is gone. “I was a little hurt from yesterday, but now that I know why I wanted to say thank you for listening to me vent so much about Lillian, and I’m sorry that I went overboard. You have no idea how helpful it is to have you listen and support me. I’ve never had anyone do that, and it means the world to me.” He takes another step closer. “If you need to take some time for yourself, then take it. It would be unfair otherwise. I care for you, so much, and I want you to do what makes you happy.”

Sam thinks he sees your lip quiver a bit, but your eyes are full of nothing but adoration.

He continues on. “I’ve never said anything specifically about this, and I’m just hoping that it has some weight to it, but I’m not interested in Lillian anymore. I know I talk about her too much. But I haven’t harbored any feelings for her in a very long time, and I certainly don’t now.”

“You don’t?”

He chuckles. “Absolutely not. And I never meant to give you that impression either.”

A mixture of emotion spreads across your face, one moment you laugh—the next your mouth is twisted into an anxious and nervous tilt—and then you’re laughing again.

“I feel like an absolute dumbass.” You murmur, placing a hand on the back of your neck.

The grin is slow to spread across his face. “Don’t tell me you were jealous?”

You spin to face him. “Uh…well…jealousy is an unfortunate human emotion that’s inherent in every one of us—”

“Yeahh, it sounds like you were jealous.” He laughs, his brilliant smile beaming at you.

“It was only a little bit.”

“Mhm, yes, of course.”

You laugh and throw your hands up. “Come on, can you blame me? With you talking about her having the, and I quote, ‘voice of an angel’, how was I not supposed to be?”

Sam groans, half in pain and half playful. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

“I just quoted you. You totally did.”

“Well, I’m obviously the dumbass then.” He makes a great, joking bow. “Allow me to apologize—”

“No, no—” You’re grinning delightfully. “I won’t have any more apologies today. I will, though, have a hug.”

“Ah, much better.” He opens his arms wide. “Come ‘ere.”

Without hesitation you’re in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He can feel your smile against his skin as you pull him close.

The rift between you both has closed. And Sam felt whole again.

[spookyspecterino]

hey, I love your writing so much!!! pls can we have a fic of the moment sam realises he is in love with the captain 🥺 I imagine he’d probs suppress his feelings in the beginning out of concern for cora but has a moment where he realises & wants to say something but doesn’t know how 😭

I know this ask is a few months old and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get here. My motivation has been rock bottom these last few months lately.

I did the ol "5 times this man thinks he's in love with you and the first time he tells you" kinda deal. Hope you like it <3

GN!Dusty/Captain x Sam Coe | No warnings, it's all fluff

The first time Sam thought he might be in love with his Captain was when he saw them picking up books from a dusty library in an abandoned facility. The old things were practically falling out of your arms, scattering across the floor, and undoubtedly slowing you down.

He picks up the books you’ve dropped, following behind you as you try and make room in your outfit.

“What’re these for?” He asks, holding them patiently as you stuff a book (or two) into your belt.

“If I told you, you’d think I’m a softie.”

“Oh no…” Sam laughs. “You’re spoiling her.”

Your smile isn’t as well hidden as you think. “I’m aiding her education.”

“She’s already taking college level classes.” He hands you another book and watches as you shove it down your shirt.

“It’s either this or giving her money. And no, I won’t take neither as an option.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

He opens his mouth to say more, maybe to scold you for trying to break your back. But something in your eyes stops him, it’s a certain glitter and that little quirk of a smile. It’s enough to drive him crazy and instead of allowing himself to smile he looks away.

“Ok, I’m good.” You slowly stand up straight, swaying a little and trying to balance the added weight. “Let’s get out of here.”

His rough sounding retort is perhaps a shield for himself. A carefully constructed wall. “Just don’t make me carry you out of here if you end up breaking an ankle.”

Your laugh makes it all the harder. “Oh, yee of little faith.” A pause, maybe a heartbeat in length. “You wouldn’t heroically carry your captain out of here?”

He still won’t look at you. “With all those books? I’d break my back.”

“Don’t lie, you’d do it.”

He shakes his head, turning himself around to check behind. The facility was empty, completely cleared, he was doing it so you didn’t see his grin.

- - -

The second time Sam thought he might be in love with his Captain was when he slammed his fist down on the comms console, ending a fight with Lillian. He leans over the flashing board, closing his eyes to shut it all out. To try and regain some notion of control.

Another button lights up—it’s Lillian, calling back to have the final word. As she usually does. He can’t do this anymore and he doesn’t know how to say it. He’s about to press that button, about to let her have the final word just so he can get some goddamn rest, when a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“Hey.”

It’s you. Amazing, wonderful, infuriating you. Always here when he needs you the most and always here to complicate his feelings more.

“She just…” He spits out, finger resting on the button. A little push would open the comms with Lillian again.

“Yeah, I know.” You wrap your arm around his shoulder. Not quite a hug, but still supportive. “Want me to talk to her?”

To your absolute credit it makes him chuckle, albeit a little dryly. “What would you say?”

“Roadkill Cafe. You kill it, we grill it!”

He removes his finger from the button, turning to look at you from over his shoulder. “What?”

“Mhm. Oh, my other favorite one is ‘Mule Barn. Head ass speaking!’ Just to really throw her off.”

It’s so absurd he genuinely laughs. “I’m almost tempted to let you, just to see what she would say.”

“She’d probably hang up.” You lean against him—god you’re warm. “Problem solved.”

Rubbing a hand over his face he can’t help but smile. “Don’t teach Cora any of those or that’s all she’ll ever answer with.”

“Well…”

“Don’t.” He playfully pushes into you. Your other hand wraps around him, it’s officially a hug now.

“Ok, I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

Seconds pass in silence. Sam stands in your embrace, not wanting to leave but also feeling his carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble.

“I’m gonna—” He starts, but you’re also speaking.

“Why don’t—”

Something hangs in the air, something unspoken.

Removing your arms but keeping one hand on his back you step around, flicking a few switches. The comms panel goes dark. The flashing light that is Lillian’s call blinks out with finality.

“I’m gonna take over the watch. Go get some sleep.”

“Alright.”

Sam leaves without another word. He has to, or he might say something ridiculous.

- - -

The third time he wasn’t even aware of it.

“I really do not understand your jokes, Sam.” Andreja grumbles. “Or why the captain is laughing at every single one.”

Sam scratches his beard, trying to control himself. Next to him, you’re doubled over in your chair still laughing. “You have no sense of humor, that’s all.”

“I have humor.”

“She does.” You add in, recovering. “Just when it’s about dead stuff or killing. Dad jokes aren’t her thing.”

Andreja gives Sam a triumphant look.

“Ok, ok.” Sam holds up a hand. “I’ve got another one.”

The way you lean in with a growing smile makes him pause for effect, his own smile matching yours. “Today, my son asked, ‘Can I have a bookmark?’ I burst into tears—11 years old and he still doesn’t know my name is Brian.”

And you’re back to laughing, just like that. Head thrown back and everything. The lodge is full with the sound of you. Sam can’t get enough.

“I do not understand. You do not have a son—” Andreja is looking between you and Sam, who is laughing purely from your reaction.

From the upstairs railing, Barrett leans over. “I’m not impressed, Sam. Real bottom of the barrel stuff.”

“Then why is the captain laughing so hard?” Sam calls back up to the man, motioning to you, who is still wheezing.

Barrett shakes his head. As he walks back to his room, Sam can barely hear him. “You know why.”

- - -

Sam’s walls are carefully constructed for a number of reasons. 1) He was a ranger and that’s how it’s meant to be, you can’t let anyone in and that’s a lesson that’s stuck with him; 2) he has Cora, a little girl who has enough instability in her life. She doesn’t need any more; and 3) once the wall is down it might take years to put it back up, and he just doesn’t have the time or luxury to deal with that.

But goddamn is it hard to keep the bricks together around you.

You have this way of finding a hole, an imperfection, and tunneling straight through. The universe must have sent you to him with a sledgehammer in the back of your pocket.

“Oh, oh! This is my favorite part!”

Sam didn’t even mean to start sharing his music with you. It just came up. And then you both started singing.

He’s full of this euphoria that he only feels when he and Cora do something together. And he hates it, he hates how he can’t control it either, how it bubbles to the surface when you’re around. It fills him with so much fucking joy he can’t stand it.

Every attempt at patching the hole, the little tunnel you’ve made for yourself, is subverted by you finding somewhere else to slip in. Another crack that erodes away just enough for you to fit through. His gruff words, attempts at distance, or even talking about Lillian are all met with the most heartwarming support. It really breaks a man down. Are you even aware of that? Are you aware of what you’re doing to him?

Your voice rises to a pitch that’s too high for you and it crackles with effort. Without even thinking, Sam takes the lower tone, going so deep that his throat burns. You both sound like howling lunatics. But Sam isn’t embarrassed, it feels nice.

Goddamn it—it feels great.

Something in the back of his mind urges him to pull away, to leave, to say something belittling, but he can’t bring himself to do it with the way you’re grinning and acting. Playing out the song like you’re in the band that sings it, with a touch of dramatic flare that has his mind reeling.

Another thought strikes him as he pretends to take the imaginary microphone from you and belt out the lyrics. You cheer him on singing another note that’s way too high and laughing when your voice cracks.

Maybe feeling this way isn’t a bad thing.

- - -

The fifth instance couldn’t come at a more inconvenient time.

“Reload!”

Sam picks up another missile battery and slots it into the back of the literal cannon on your shoulder. “Ready!”

Your finger pulls the trigger and the weapon hums, heating up. It grows louder on the verge of firing, and Sam presses himself against you to avoid any blowback.

The recoil is enough to jolt you both and he holds you steady. Somewhere in the distance, an explosion rocks the Spacer compound.

“Ha! How ya like that, assholes?!”

“Is taunting them the best idea?” He pulls out another battery as you both scramble back behind cover.

“You know I can’t help it, Sam.” You pant, looking absolutely alive.

He laughs, despite the knot in his stomach. “Yeah. Silly question.”

“You want to see something else silly?”

He catches the absolutely insane look in your eye and is shaking his head. “No! No, I really—"

But you’re gone after that, darting out from behind cover and sprinting toward the line of spacers.

That knot in his stomach flips and twists until all of his insides are writhing. Bullets, lasers, and everything the Spacers have are thrown your way and all Sam can do is just watch.

You’re somehow unscathed as you make it to where the Spacers are crouched. Sam is about to join you when he sees movement from rafter above. No less than four grenades are hurled at you. He stands trying to shout, but the explosion cuts him off.

It’s dead silent after. Nothing moves except the debris falling.

The spacers above retreat further into the building. Sam is up as fast as his legs can manage, even stumbling as his feet scramble over one another.

A number of horrible, gut-wrenching images flash behind his eyes as he sprints to where he last saw you. He wasn’t sure what he would find, and if he cared any less for you, he may not have lunged into action so quickly. But he did. He cared a whole hell of a lot.

When he reaches the place he saw you duck down, around some flimsy metal pieces of machinery, he sees the black scorch marks from the blast. He sees the remains of the spacers that were there a few moments ago. And he sees a dead body—for a spilt second Sam thinks this is you, but the suit colors are wrong.

It’s not you.

The body shifts and is moved to the side.

You’re underneath. Miraculously in one piece.

“Do I still have my legs?” You ask, breathless and wide-eyed.

“Yeah…” Sam is trembling, just staring at you.

You notice his strange stare. Uncertainty and a hint of fear colors your voice. “Am I missing anything else?”

“No.”

“Then why the hell are you looking at me like that?”

Because he almost lost you. Because for a few seconds he thought you were dead, and the idea of that was too much for him to imagine.

Because he loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

“I…” He starts, completely overwhelmed.

His world was overturning, a flurry of emotions threatened to give him whiplash. He wanted to hug you, he wanted to yell at you, he wanted to laugh and cry and scream, he wanted to devour you and leave nothing for anyone else.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you give Sam a once-over. “Are you ok?”

“Don’t…” He lets out a trembling breath. “Don’t do that again.”

- - -

It’s a normal day, a particularly boring one too, when he finally tells you.

He finds you sitting at the flight deck, reading. You don’t notice him, so enveloped in your book that the outside world isn’t a concern. You must be reading a particularly intense part; your brow is furrowed and your lips twist in that peculiar way they do when you concentrate. If he said it now, revealed the deepest—most secret—part of himself, would you even notice?

“What’s up, Sam?” You look up at him as you turn a page.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you…” he drawls. It’s a partial lie.

You keep the book open, turning it over and using your knee as a bookmark. “You’re not.” Your smile is reassuring. What’s going on?”

For a moment, he thinks about dropping it. Retreating back to that status quo, something comfortable. Back behind his walls—the walls that were barely there now, riddled with holes and gaps. You’d done your work on him.

“I uh…I needed to get something off my chest.”

You take the book and close it completely, setting it on the console. “Ok, go ahead.”

The carefully crafted list of talking points Sam had circled like angry bees in his head. He was never really a talking points kind of guy, so he threw them all out and decided to wing it instead.

“During the last fight, in the spacer compound, you were a dumbass.”

That wasn’t exactly the best way to phrase it, and he knew that. Strong start, moron.

You only smile patiently at him. “I like your honesty.”

“Well…my point to that is, after traveling with you—fighting by your side—picking up books for Cora, that she doesn’t need…” He struggles, hands moving to try and articulate what he wasn’t capable of. “I’ve come to—to not only respect you, even when you make crazy, dangerous decisions, but…”

He swallows, but finds his throat is completely dry. “I—you…” He groans, and every coherent thought flies from his mind. “You make me crazy, in the best way. I never know what’s coming next and I love that. You care for Cora, when that’s not your responsibility—you help me through all the shit with Lillian, when it’s not your problem.” He spreads his arms out. “And when you throw yourself into danger like that, I feel like I��m on the verge of losing everything.”

Your face is soft. Vulnerable. Maybe he’s gotten through to you, but he needs to say it. He won’t rest until he says it.

“You are my everything.”

Why can’t he come out and say it?

“Sam Coe.” You stand from your chair. “Are you in love with me?”

“Yes.” His answer comes out in a great whoosh of breath. This weight that’s been pressing on his chest for months is gone. He can breathe. And suddenly he can say it.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been trying to hide it, rationalize it away, or just ignore it, but I can’t. Not anymore, not if you’re going to keep throwing yourself into grenades.”

“I won’t do that anymore.”

“You swear? Because I am too old to go through that again, next time it might kill me.”

“I swear.” You move closer to him. “When did you fall in love with me?”

Sam chuckles, scratching his neck. At this point he doesn’t register you haven’t said anything about your own feelings back to him. “When you were trying to break your back carrying all those books for Cora.”

“That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah.” He shifts his weight. “I don’t want to cause any kind of a rift between us—I really just needed to tell you how I felt.”

“I’m glad you did.” You pause, looking down at your hands. “Because this creates a pretty big conflict of interest.”

“What?”

“Well, you see, I was actually going to ask Lillian out—”

“Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

“—and adopt Cora—”

“You’re playing a joke on me. I know you are; I can see you starting to smile.”

“—we’d all move in with Jacob—”

“For Christ sakes, you’re laughing, give it up.”

“—one big, happy—” You bust out in laughter, almost doubling over as Sam shakes his head.

He’s trying not to laugh as he turns to leave. You grab his coat sleeve. “Wait, wait. I’m sorry, you just—your face was—"

“I tell you I love you and you make that joke?” He looks down at you, holding your arms and bringing you closer to him. “Unbelievable.”

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it.” You lean your head into his chest. Your voice is muffled. “I love you too.”

“What was that?”

“I love you too.”

He leans his head down. With your face still in his chest you can’t see his shit eating grin. “Didn’t catch that. One more time?”

You look up, gritting your teeth and trying not to yell. “I. Love. You. Too."

Your faces are very close together now, a hair’s width apart. Sam is still grinning. He opens his mouth slowly.

“Sam.” You warn. “I’ll never say it again.”

“I’m going to call you on that bluff.”

You caress the side of his face before giving it a light tap. “Funny.”

“You love my jokes.”

The noise you make as you pass him is less than satisfactory. It has him trailing after you further into the ship.

“What does that mean?”

“You know what it means.”

He trails you all the way to your quarters and through the door as you invite him in.

[spookyspecterino]

Lost in the Stars

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Sam Coe x Old Earth! GN! Reader

(Warnings are chapter based) Foul language, fear, anxiety

It's hereeeee! I said I would release last week, but work and life in general said no. Anyway, hope you enjoy! This was requested by @wuzpoppinrose and, as usual, I took the prompt and ran away with it.

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.

---BREAKING---EARTH’S ATMOSPHERE GONE BY 2203---HOAX OR THE END OF HUMANITY---NEW DEVICE COULD SAVE US---

They’re really trying to start a riot.

The bright, flashing red on your phone screen blinks out as you lock it and slip it into a pocket. Yet the blaring words of the news leaves spots in your vision. Imprinting itself not only in your mind but your literal eyes as well.

That was definitely an intentional design choice.

Hard to believe that humanity has found another avenue to their destruction, adding to the seemingly endless mix already out there. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t really clicking in your mind. Just a news headline, for now at least, to be replaced by another—something just as urgent—tomorrow.

With a heavy sigh you look at the clock.

1:13 AM

Damn.

While the idea of going to bed isn’t the most exciting thing, a gentle wind blowing through your open window calls and beckons to one of your favorite activities.

Star gazing.

As a child you would look through your amateur telescope every night, like a ritual of sorts. Now…well, you didn’t have a telescope, but you did have a backyard with a clear view. On a warm night like tonight, you could stare up for hours. Getting lost in that black, star speckled blanket.

The temptation is too great, and without meaning to your feet carry you to the double doors leading out into your backyard. Crickets chirp. The wind rustles the grass and leaves. A peaceful and much needed change. To enhance the feeling, you slip off your shoes and revel in the way the grass sticks up between your toes and the feeling of dirt underfoot. It was hard to image a great calamity when here and now there was only the feeling of calm tranquility.

Yet, curiosity creeps into your mind. Your hands itched to pull up your phone again, to find out more about the “Atmosphere issue” as some news channels were calling it.

Which feelings are stronger? Fear and anxiety? Or is it the overwhelming exhaustion from another story about how Earh (and everyone on it) is going to die?

Not for the first time, your sad stare turns skyward. How many of your ancestors had done the same? Stared up into the great unknown and wondered just what is out there?

Humanity’s salvation?

Or maybe just a cold death.

For some unknown reason, you close your eyes, imagining yourself flying through the stars. Even though you’re standing, your mind begins to drift, you feel your body pulled into sleep. And you fall into the welcoming black.

. . .

“Oh man…uh—hey Sarah! Sarah!”

“Yes Noel, what is it?”

“We just got a huge spike in anomalous activity readings. It might be a glitch, but I wanted to you to look at it.”

“What makes you say it’s a glitch?” Sarah walks up to Noel, holding a steaming coffee mug.

“The reading came from here in New Atlantis.”

“Let me see.” Sarah trades the small tablet for her coffee, placing it down on the table. Her brows furrow deep as she starts to read. “That is…very odd. We’ve never seen a reading pop up here before.”

“And so suddenly.” Noel agrees.

“When did you—oh, it’s gone!”

“The anomaly?” Noel asks, huddling in close to get a look at the screen.

“It just disappeared. Like a blip.”

“So…maybe it is a glitch? Malfunctioning equipment? The idea of an anomaly appearing and then disappearing here in New Atlantis, practically outside our doorstep, is absurd.” She pauses after Sarah doesn’t react. “Right?”

“I don’t know, but I intend on figuring it out.” She turns to the garden doors. “Sam?”

“Yeah?” He calls back a moment later. He sounds like he might have food in his mouth.

“Would you mind coming with me? There’s an anomaly reading from here in New Atlantis, but it’s disappeared. I want to check it out.”

“An anomaly? Here?” Sam’s head appears through one of the doors as he leans inside. There’s a half-eaten bagel in one of his hands. “That has to be a glitch.”

“That’s what I said.” Noel commented, moving Sarah’s coffee off the table so she could run some diagnostics.

Sarah focuses on Sam. “I’d like to make sure. We have no idea what we’re dealing with or what these artifacts are capable of.”

He shrugs, tossing the rest of his bagel to the side. “Alright, don’t see why not.”

“Good. Noel, we’ll be back soon.”

“Got it. I’ll keep running some system tests.”

Sarah, in all her confidence and ease as leader, strides toward the double doors of the Lodge. Sam is right behind her, adjusting his hat, only slightly torn about his breakfast being interrupted.

“At least today has started off interesting, I was about ready to—"

“Wait.” Sarah halts, one hand resting on the ornate door handle. “Do you hear that?”

“Hm? Hear what?” Sam freezes, tilting his head around.

“It sounds like…” Sarah looks back to the door, as if she can see through it. “It sounds like shouting.”

. . .

Fresh air.

A slight breeze.

The feeling of grass.

Shifting around, your body aches—in dire need of a stretch. Limbs refuse to obey, heavy and stiff. It must be early, your eyes refuse to open, still tired and fighting the feeling of being yanked from comfortable darkness. Moving a little, the grass and leaves under you tickle and scratch lightly at your exposed skin.

When’s the last time you fell asleep outside? It must be a few years at least. Strange. You don’t remember laying down or falling asleep.

People’s voices draw your attention. That’s also strange. Your backyard isn’t anywhere near where other people would gather. Are the neighbors doing something?

And why do the birds sound so weird?

The sunlight is suddenly harsh as you crack your eyes open just a hair’s fraction. Placing a hand to block the sun, alarms in the back of your mind go off. Something feels uncomfortable in this. You turn over, using your elbow as leverage to prop yourself up. The fog is lifting as you try to get your bearings. Leaves and grass cling to your clothes.

As your eyes open up more, adjusting to the light, you stare at the strange root formations in the ground. They don’t seem right. And the trees…

You’ve never seen these trees or anything like them before.

You’re not in your backyard.

“What the fuck?” You can’t help it. The words come out as a whisper.

As your eyes travel the alien landscape you’re no longer whispering.

“What the fuck?!”

Tall, silver buildings, twisting and jutting into the sky. Planes—at least you think they are—roar overhead. You try looking for them but aren’t able to catch one. They sound so close. Are you at an airport?

How the fuck did you wind up at an airport? And what airport is this?

“Ok, weird trees. Weird city. Airport? What the hell is going on?”

Looking out through the bushes, you think you can see people walking around, milling about, talking with others.

Getting to your feet is a panicked scramble as you fight to calm your mind and racing heart. Possibilities and scenarios of the worst-case scream at you.

You don’t feel any kind of pain, a quick check around your abdomen and you confirm that you still have your kidneys.

“People. Talk to people.” The plan is set. Maybe someone can help you.

But as you move closer, they become clearer. And they look…like people…but their clothing is different. Styled in a way you’ve never seen.

Suddenly talking to them doesn’t seem appealing. You shy back, closer to the trees, almost fumbling over a tree root. You reach out for anything that can break your fall and scratch your hand on some bushes, it rustles loudly as the sticks crunch and snap. If you had any fantasies that you might be dreaming, they’re cut short when your hand stings.

You look back out into the street; you’ve caught the attention of a few people. They stare as if you’re the weird one.

Maybe it’s time to go…somewhere. The bulky weight of your phone in your pocket is reassuring. As you reach for it, fishing it out, a gruff voice startles you enough you almost drop it.

“You need to take your roleplaying elsewhere.”

It’s a man in a heavy-duty uniform. A visor covers half his face. The colors are different and foreign. Across his chest the word SECURITY is printed in bold lettering.

A cop? Private security? Maybe you’re in a resort or something.

You lean forward, as if you didn’t hear him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, you need to take your Earth roleplaying elsewhere. We don’t tolerate destruction of the gardens.”

“Earth role—I—I’m not roleplaying! Do you know where I am?”

“Oh, sure. That’s what all you freaks say when you get caught. Move along, or you’ll be spending the night in a UC security cell.”

“I don’t what the fuck a ‘UC’ is!”

“Get out of the garden! Right now!”

“Ok…Jesus.” You step out, noticeably aware that you’re still barefoot. “Please just tell me where I am.”

The guard sounds more pissed off with each word you say. “I don’t have the patience for this. Don’t you have somewhere else you can do this shit?”

“I—don’t—know—where—I—am!” You feel like clapping your hands along as you speak to try and make it clearer for him, but he already seems like he wants to kill you.

“This is your last chance to move along!”

A woman, blonde haired and tall, in a red jacket and a man in a cowboy hat, leather jacket, and jeans round the corner a little ways down the street. You hardly notice, only your subconscious registers them as more people to join those already staring.

For the sake of not causing too much of a scene, you intentionally lower your voice. “Please, help me. I have no idea how I got here. I just want to go home!”

“Uh huh, and where’s your home? Earth?” He sneers.

You’re so frustrated you feel tears spring up in the corner of your eyes. “No shit!”

“Your acting is pretty good.” The guard laughs, it sounds sharp enough to cut you. “Maybe I can arrange for someone to drop you off—without a spacesuit.”

“Drop me off—what the hell are you talking about?”

Spacesuit? Is he trying to make a joke?

“You know what, I’ve had enough, you’re coming with me.”

The blonde woman interrupts, jogging closer to stop the man. “Excuse me, hang on a moment, please.” She has a slight accent. At this point you’re just glad everyone is speaking your own language.

He’s not too happy to see her either. “And what do you want?”

“What are you doing with them, they’re obviously in distress and you’re not helping at all.” She points to you. Her companion, the cowboy, waits back. Watching curiously.

The guard snorts. “This isn’t any of your business. Just got someone here who’s taking the joke way too far.”

She looks between you and the guard. “Joke, what joke? What’s he talking about?”

You’re close to a mental breakdown. “I have no idea! Please help me!”

The guard raises his arm between you and the woman. “Don’t fall for it. I’ve dealt with these weirdos before. They love acting like they’ve got no idea what’s going on, or that they’re scared and confused, or whatever. Once they’re faced with actual consequences, they drop it.” He faces you. The blue tint of his helmet gives him an otherworldly appearance. “Isn’t that right?”

Wherever this is, it sucks. You grip your phone so tightly in your hand you might actually crack it.

Blondie turns to you. Her eyes are a gentle green. “Are you actually a role-player?”

Since she’s being kind, and asking honestly, your tone lowers. “I don’t know what that means…roleplaying what?”

“I told you, this one’s really into it.”

She holds up a hand. “Just one moment.” She points to your clothes. “Where did you get those?”

Blinking, you’re not sure if she’s serious. “My clothes?”

“Yes, where’d you get them from?”

“I bought them at the store…”

“What store?”

“H&M.”

This makes her pause. “H&M? What does that stand for?”

“I... I don’t really know—look, I’ll just show you where I live—” You hold up your phone, still in a death grip. It only takes two tries to unlock it as your hands shake. Your GPS is easy to find, but it doesn’t load. Something sinks in your stomach. The bars in the top corner of your phone screen flash with an ‘X’ through them.

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” The woman murmurs, leaning over to get a better look at it in your trembling hands.

The guard grumbles, crossing his arms. “So, they got ahold of some relics, big whoop. How many credits did you pay for that? 20K?”

You can’t seem to catch your breath. The world starts to blur. You must be stuck in a fever dream. “Credits? You mean like currency? Money?”

As you look between the guard and the woman, she’s looking at you peculiarly, as if you’re some kind of specimen under a microscope. The guard, half his expression hidden, twists his mouth in disdain.

She looks like she’s about to say something, even her hand comes out in invitation, but the guard is hellbent on ending this unpleasant distraction.

“You’re not gonna get anything useful out of this freak.” He grumbles as he swats your phone out of your hands.

Your whole body freezes up in shock at the personal affront. Your eyes track it as it falls to the ground.

The woman scoffs. “Was that really necessary?” To her credit, she seems genuinely angry on your behalf.

Your phone clatters with a sickening sound. It lands, screen facing up, and you can see it’s cracked, the background image flickers on and off.

As if it’s just another day in the office, the guard is unphased. “They need to learn the hard way—”

Even if you weren’t in a foreign land, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—let someone get away with such disrespect. Even if it was a glorified cop.

His boot is tougher than your bare foot, but you slam your heel down hard enough, with all your weight, that he feels it. You want it to hurt. You want him to feel just a modicum of the pain and anger that hums through your veins. Every ounce of frustration you feel is poured into the action.

He makes a noise close to surprise and stumbles back a few steps. Reeling and clawing at the air for purchase. Seeing your chance and wanting nothing to do with this place any longer, you dash to pick up your phone—holding it close—and nearly skid on the concrete trying to turn and beeline it for the garden.

Your bare feet sting, but the wind against your face and the small amount of triumph drowns it out. What’s a small bit of pain in the face of one-upping an asshole? Your body thrums with the force to go, go, go!

There are shouts behind you.

You distinguish the woman’s accent. “No! Stop!” It doesn’t sound directed to you.

Leaves brushing and tugging at your skin is the last thing you feel before something painful, like a powerful shock, hits you square in the back. Your body goes completely numb in an instant. You lose control of your legs, and you fall forward. Your arms are useless at breaking the impact. At least the grass and dirt are soft—cushioning and cradling you. The last thing you see are thin, green blades of grass and a twisting tree trunk before the world tilts and fades out.

[spookyspecterino]

Lost in the Stars

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Sam Coe x Old Earth! GN! Reader

(Warnings are chapter based) Anxiety, a panic attack but not super descriptive

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.

Strange beeps and clanging metal rip you from troubled, chaotic dreams.

Those are the first things you hear as you wake up. It’s a painfully slow and sluggish process to even open your eyes. So you don’t, simply letting your other senses fill in the gaps first.

Everything hurts. Your entire body aches, the dull soreness gradually ramping up as consciousness returns. It doesn’t help that whatever you’re laying on feels rock solid. Moving your feet, just a little, you realize you are on rock—or at least some kind of concrete floor.

That’s nice.

Feeling cold concrete on your bare, scratched feet sends chills through you as you attempt to sit up. Giving your face a few rubs, you jump to the conclusion that you must be in a holding cell. Just from the smell of cold stone floors alone, you can expect to open your eyes and…

Yep. A small, cubicle-sized cell. They didn’t even give you one with a cot. Figures.

The spot on your back where you were shot (shot with what though? A giant bug-zapper?) hurt the most. Prodding the area delicately you shy away from really touching it. Sharp pangs cut through the soreness.

Time passes, as it tends to do, as you sit motionless in the cell. No one comes by, or within the small area near your cell. You try not to wonder if they’ve left you in here to rot—that must go against some kind of law, right?

Well, honestly who knows. You could be in a country where there aren’t any human rights or any sort of protection for prisoners. You’re starting to think that maybe you really were kidnapped from your backyard that night. But why would your kidnappers leave you in the middle of a city?

It may have been an hour or several when the sound of loud clicks startles you out of deep thought. The glass cell door slides open, and a speaker crackles to life.

“Your bail has been paid--you’re free to go. Exit your cell and turn right.”

Paid by who?

But you weren’t keen on arguing now that your freedom was staring you in the face.

Rising to your feet, slowly, you shamble out of the cell and down the narrow corridor. The logo ‘UC’ in bright orange and navy-blue colors the walls, an ever-present reminder of who put you in the cell—and who could easily do it again.

You come out into a lobby of sorts, rounding a corner to be greeted with long glass walls that let in very bright sunlight. A desk attendant calls out to get your attention, another person in uniform, but she isn’t wearing a visor.

She sets a little container down on top of the upper counter of the long desk. “Your personal belongings. Do you have any ID on you? We couldn’t find you registered in any of the terminal logs.”

You were going to count that as a blessing. The less they knew about you the better. Instead of answering her question about ID, you picked you phone up from the small bin. The screen was completely shattered and when you tried to turn it on the background image flickered and flashed before going dark.

Even if it worked, you wouldn’t have signal, but it still felt like your last lifeline was gone.

“Excuse me?” The guard asked gently. “Your ID?”

A familiar accent saves you from awkwardly saying no. “That won’t be necessary, Casey, thank you.”

The guard greet the woman you had spoken with before. “Oh, hey Sarah. How’s things?”

“They’re well. Was there any other paperwork we needed to sign?”

“Nope, you both are set.”

Sarah motions for you to join her outside and you follow numbly, clutching your phone. The familiar shape in your hands is a little comforting, but not by much.

She looks down at your feet as she sits on a nearby bench. “We’re certainly going to have to get you some shoes—and a change of clothes as well.”

You don’t say a word, looking around at the tall buildings. Why were things so different here?

“Come, sit.” She smiles at you. “Let’s chat.”

Sitting next to her, your voice comes out dry and hoarse. “Do you have any water?”

“We’re not far from the lodge, we’ll get you some water and food there.”

She pauses, like she wants to ask you something, but you interject. “Did you pay my bail?”

“I did.”

“Why? Why are you helping me?”

She thinks for a moment before answering. “My colleagues and I are very interested in how you got here. Do you remember anything about how you arrived?”

“No. Nothing. I honestly think I was kidnapped out of my backyard.”

“Out of your backyard?” She repeats softly. When you start to frown at her, she changes the subject. “May I see that?” She asks, pointing to your phone.

“Sure.”

She’s delicate as she turns it over in her hands, examining both sides. “How do you turn it on?”

“The little button on the side.”

She presses it and the screen flickers again. “It seems that brute broke it—not to worry, we can attempt to fix it at the lodge.” Sarah glances at your feet again. “Are you alright to walk a little ways?”

“Sure.”

She hands your phone back and gets up, leading the way.

. . .

Inside the lodge was surprisingly cozy and warm, it even had a crackling fire going. It added to the cozy—home feeling, you were just able to ignore the high-tech equipment all around, that is if you kept looking down at the floor.

You could feel the eyes of the others that were already in the lodge as you and Sarah arrived. They had stopped their conversations to look up. And they all stared.

“It’s time to introduce you to the team. These are the people that make Constellation so great.” She starts from left to right. “That’s Barrett—”

He gives you a warm smile and a wave.

“—Andreja—” The woman doesn’t greet you, simply turning away and crossing her arms. Your eyes linger for a moment before moving to the next person.

“—Walter, Noel, Matteo—” They all smile and greet you; Walter seems a little gruff about it, but not as bad as Andria, or whatever her name was.

“—and Sam.”

Sam, the same cowboy guy that you saw before being tased, leans against the wall. When he’s introduced, he comes over and sticks out a hand. “Takes a lot of guts to stand up to UC security like that.”

You take his hand, giving it a shake. Somewhat glad that manners were still the same, wherever you were. “That asshole broke my phone.”

“Your what?”

Matteo steps closer. “Did you just say ‘phone’? As in a—”

“Ok everyone, let’s not overwhelm them. I think it would be best if you sat down.” Sarah motioned to an empty seat around the table.

But you didn’t really want to move. You liked the way the cowboy—Sam—was staring at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips. It was a peculiar look, but not a bad one.

As Sarah tried to usher you toward the table, a young voice behind you asks, “Did you just come from Earth?”

“Hm?” You turn, seeing a girl—no more than 12 years old—looking up at you with bright, curious eyes.

“I asked if you just got back from Earth? you’re wearing all Earth-age clothing.” She circles around you, pulling at the fabric in places and studying you. “Where’d you get them?”

“Cora, leave ‘em alone.” Sam sighs. He catches your eyes. “This is my daughter, Cora.”

“Hi, hi!”

“Um…hi.” You murmur, letting her continue to study you.

“Are you a scavenger?” she asks, innocently.

“What makes you ask that?”

“The only way you could get clothes like this would be if you scavenged them from Earth.”

“I’m not a scavenger…I live there.”

Her head tilts. “How? Earth—”

Sarah is quick to intervene. “Cora, just a moment. Let them introduce themselves and tell their story first.” She puts a hand on your shoulder, now leading you to sit. Thoroughly confused, you let her.

The next few minutes are spent re-telling the story of how you found yourself here in ‘New Atlantis’—as the others informed you—it was a painfully short story, and you could tell everyone was expecting to hear more.

There was a split second when they all exchanged glances and had their silent conversation. You’d had quite enough of all that.

You cross your arms, scowling. “What? What is it? I know there’s something wrong, I can see you all exchanging weird looks.”

As usual, Sarah is careful as she speaks. “When you first arrived, there was a surge in anomalous readings, here within New Atlantis. It might correspond with how you got here.”

Everyone is suddenly avoiding your eyes. Even Sam. “I’m…not sure I understand…”

When Sarah took a deep breath, brows pinching together in sympathy, you knew the worst was coming. Something twists in your stomach. A growing dread. “There isn’t any easy way to say this but…Earth’s magnetosphere collapsed back in 2203…”

“I—I don’t know what that means...” Your voice dies out with a strange croak.

“Earth doesn’t have an atmosphere anymore. There’s nothing left. I’m not sure where or when you came from, but—”

Suddenly it felt like you weren’t in your own body anymore. Like you were detached and drifting away. When you spoke, it was as if someone else was talking for you. “—Earth is…gone? That actually happened?”

Sam’s head tilts. “What do you mean? You knew about it where you came from?”

“The atmosphere collapse just became public knowledge…almost everyone denied it was real or even doubted that it would actually…” The room starts to spin. You blink hard once, then twice, trying to fight off this feeling. The walls start to close in.

Sarah’s saying something, she’s turned around in her seat to talk to Barrett and Noel. You’re only able to catch snippets of what she’s saying. “Is it possible—time travel?... Somehow able to…distant past…”

Matteo is the first to shout as you’re falling over, but Sam is the one to catch you.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright.” His soft voice is in your ear. It helps a little as his strong arms keep you off the hardwood floor.

Sarah is fast to act. “Take them upstairs. There’s an empty room they can lie down in. Noel check their vitals.”

“Can you walk?” Sam asks, quiet and gentle as if he’s afraid he might break you.

“Think so.”

The upstairs room they offer you is spacious, the bed too large for just one person. As you lay, staring at the ceiling, Noel moves around you, setting up little monitors and machines that you assume are all medical.

“Would you like a sedative, to help you sleep?” she asks, pausing. Hands hovering uncertainly.

Your reply is raspy, sluggish with exhaustion. “Sure.” It doesn’t sound like your voice.

“Ok, you’re dehydrated so I’m gonna insert an IV, just stay still…and…there. That should help.” She touches a few screens. “The sedative should kick in soon. Don’t try to remove the IV, if you need help with something, just call and I’ll be back.”

She packs up a few things, picking up her smaller tablet. Before leaving the room, she pauses. “Um—you’re gonna be ok. Everything is going to be fine. We’re going to do our best to help you.”

“…thanks.”

She closes the door behind her.

Thankfully you’re not awake too much longer, the silence was becoming overbearing.

. . .

This time, as you wake, you don’t feel as awful—physically at least. But that dread remains settled in your stomach like a hard knot. The flash of medical equipment around you only annoys you. How they others must look at you.

Helpless, lost—without a home. It’s damn humiliating that you nearly passed out. This first impression would need to be fixed.

Wasting no time, you pull out the IV and untangle other cords from around yourself. Some of the machines flash, but nothing makes a noise. The comfort of the bed isn’t enough to keep you there. Something burns in you know.

The room is the first in the hallway, making navigation easy. The banister overlooking the grand lounge is to the left.

As you move closer, you can just barely make out voices coming from below. Following the noise, you come out onto the upper landing. Down on the lower level the old man, Walter—you think, is talking with Barrett, Sarah, and Sam. Matteo and Noel sit nearby. Andy—Ariana—whatever her name was, leans against the far wall.

She’s the first to notice you’re awake. Her neutral scowl turns to a glare. “They’re up.” She grumbles.

Every other pair of eyes land on you. With your best effort, you straighten your spine and set your mouth in a hard line. Your knuckles are white as you grip the railing. “Tell me everything. Don’t hold back.”

[booburry]

Sam Coe Smut Prompts?

I legit had this post drafted the other day but was uncertain of posting the offer and if anyone would be interested, but here it goes!

Do you have a Sam Coe Smut Prompt but can't get it onto paper? A position or scenario you would want to read? Let me know! Comment, Anon or Private message me!

A bit of my...CV?

Usually write M/F but open to other pairings

Usually write /OC fics but totally fine with x reader; if you want x reader, please specify the gender of the reader you wish, otherwise I will default to GN.

Make sure to include any kinks you want, or don't want, so I can make sure it's as close to how you picture it do be.

Things I do not wish to write (no kink-shaming, I just won't write it justly): piss play, scat play, omegaverse, rape/non-con (OK with CNC).

No promises on the frequency of these posts, it will be things I write when I am stuck or want a different pace from my Starfield Fic but I will get to them!