#sam coe x you

[margowritesthings]

sam coe headcanons (18+ minors dni)

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

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

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

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

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

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

divider by @saradika

[thatsgoodsquishy0]

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

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

i. BOUND

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

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

“They just wasted Fredericks!”

“How the fuck did they find us?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey – hey -- stay with me now.”

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, you feared for your life again.

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

“Pretty clear to me which side!”

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

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

“I just don’t know about this, Sam!”

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

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

“Just trust me, alright?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t look.”

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

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

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

You whined as you passed under one of the sirens.

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

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

“Get her a trauma pack.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was this all part of Anton’s plan?

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

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

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

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

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

[bearlytolerant]

Sooooo, are you still taking writing prompts? What about a Starborn PC (aka Shephard) heading into Nishina station and Sam can’t figure out what the hell she’s so worried about? I’m heading in there NG 6 and it’s just such emotional whiplash, depending on how you play. Sweet Jesus, the angst/comfort/smut potential….😁

Love your fics so much, thanks for sharing!

Fandom: Starfield

Pairing: Sam Coe x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2135

🌟Note: Contains Main Story Spoilers🌟

the world can wait

You’ve done this before. More than once. It’s not complicated but it is tedious. Worth it to save both realities again and again. Shifting between the sterilized facility with robot defenses and its survival horror counterpart, complete with alien monstrosities. You make quick work of it all, overriding the obstacles blocking your way to get to the lab. To the artifact.

Only this time, Raphael’s body in the sterilized reality doesn’t contain the slate that’s needed to save everyone. Padding him down, you check every pocket, sleeve, boot, anything you can find. But there’s nothing.

“Shit, Raph, where’d you put the damn slate?” The search spreads wider.

You rifle through lockers and under desks and chairs. You even check the bathroom. Maybe he dropped it behind the toilet? But it’s nowhere to be found and time is ticking. Shifting back to the reality colored apocalyptic horror, you find Raphael, alive and well.

“Hey, do you have the slate?”

“What slate?” he asks and his confusion has your stomach in knots.

“The one with the degaussing instructions.”

“I don't have that.”

If only you’d taken time to memorize it. The regret pools in your gut. Learning the hard way, again.

With a sigh, you thank him and head back to the sterilized reality. At the very least, you can save this version. But new questions arise in your head with the turn of events. Is it a mercy to leave Raph, protecting him from the crushing weight of being a sole survivor? Or will he slowly starve to death, coming back for you in another universe, angry and vengeful?

There’s no time to dwell. You make your choice. Scientists over Raphael.

You disengage every power interlock as quickly as you can. Power down the central control and grab the artifact.

Spinning and swirling and swimming in a sea of stars, the unity touches your mind, showing you the latest thread spun in your particular tapestry of fate.

You wake up, only one thing on your mind.

Sam.

Did this new decision cause a disruption or a disconnect? Will you leave Nishima and find him standing just outside the facility where he said he’ll be?

How badly is this world fucked?

Panic rises, festering and oozing out through your sweating palms. You fret and fumble, stumbling your way back to the main entrance. You don’t even bother to check up on the scientists. They’re obviously fine. Their thank yous roll off your back as you pass them by. You see the exit.

The door hisses and it feels like an eternity before they pull apart enough for you to squeeze through, eyes searching for the place he should be.

“Sam?” You call, your voice dry, rough and cracked.

But he’s not where you left him.

Your heart races. You’re mumbling “no” under your breath, over and over again, like a penitent sinner. Pleading with the heavens, and bargaining with the stars.

“Sam!” You scream.

His name is a choked back sob burning at the back of your throat.

“You better be here,” you croak, eyes searching the horizon and all the places around you.

He shouldn’t be back at the ship but what if he is? What if he’s safe? A glimmer of hope. You need to see. Need to know.

You take another step forward, the tears drying as you tell yourself that he’ll be there.

But then that little worm named worry inches in, whispering to you, what if he isn’t? Then you’ll have to explain to your crew mates. Explain to Cora.

Oh, no—Cora.

You slump to your knees, the voice of worry growing louder. A cacophony of horrible what-ifs brings your heart rate up so high your hands are shaking. You can’t go back to the ship without him. You can’t—you won’t. You know you haven’t searched everywhere. There's one last place before you’ll give in and go to the ship, to face whatever might be waiting there. So you turn around, retracing your steps back to the facility, heading up the stairs and toward the cliff edge. You pass by a tree on the right and pause to watch as the sky awakens in an ambient peach glow. It’s beautiful but it’s not Sam. You hang your head, hopeless.

“Oh Sam,” you whisper to yourself. “Where are you?”

A hand on your shoulder has you reeling around, gun in your hand.

“Whoa, whoa! You alright there, darlin,?”

Sam.

He’s okay. He’s okay! The weight lifts off you and just one look into his baby blues is enough to carry you down from that panic driven high.The air is breathable again as you toss your gun aside, throwing your arms around Sam’s neck. You cling to him, fingers grasping at the bare skin of the back of his neck, tears flowing freely down your face. “Where were you? I looked everywhere and you weren’t—you weren’t—“

Then your hands are on his cheeks, fingers to his lips as your eyes map out the entirety of his face. You wrap your arms around his midsection and squeeze, ear pressed against his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum inside your head.

He holds you tight, smoothing his hand up and down your back. “Shh, I’m right here,” he says. “I’m right here.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” Again.

“You haven’t lost me,” he says. “I’m here.”

He gently removes your hands from his neck and holds them, studying your face.

You grasp his hands tightly, and bring them to your lips. One kiss for each knuckle and one kiss for each scar. Then you flip his palms over and kiss those too.

The lines of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. “You okay? Need to talk about what happened in there?”

You shake your head. You’d rather forget it all.

“I just—I need you.”

“Okay,” he says in his familiar and calming drawl. He presses his lips to your forehead. “Okay.”

You lift your chin, searching his eyes. Drink up his soft and gentle smile. Then you kiss him. Deep and devoted. His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roving your body, urgent and insatiable.

You back him against the nearby tree, out of sight for anyone that might come along. No one will, though. You’re confident of that. It’s just you and him and the wide expanse of land meeting sky embracing the two of you in a morning haze.

Your fingers are undoing his belt buckle and his hands slide up your back, to your shoulders and then cup your face. His eyes are askance of your audience.

“We don’t—you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not a matter of obligation. But of want. Of need,” you tell him.

It’s a matter of finding some solace in the sighs you can invoke. You want to hear him, revere him, touch him. Immerse the entirety of your essence in him.

“Who am I to protest then?” he says with a chuckle.

How you’ve missed that. Missed him. Those few moments without him were just minutes but felt like days—no millennia.

His belt buckle loosens. Button unsnaps.

You relish in the soft zip mixed with the quiet hush of wind at your ear, kneeling before him as the supplicant pilgrim. He’s already shirking out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground beside you. Your fingers inch under the hem of his shirt, exploring the skin of his body and brushing over the hair of his belly. Sprawling hands out to his sides, finger pads pressing into the black inked tattoos, you rest your forehead against him.

Three deep breaths and you’re grounded for a moment.

One of his hands pets your head, soothing and calming before you press your lips to his belly button. Plant a plush path of kisses down to the elastic of his boxer briefs. Then you dip your hand past the band, tugging, and freeing his cock. Gently you massage his balls, while wrapping your other hand around his length. You pump once, careful not to pull the sensitive skin.

He murmurs something sweet, calls you darlin’ as you slide your hand down his shaft. You lick your lips as you eye his excited cock, bobbing slightly and eager. You kiss the veins and make use of your tongue, testing and tasting. Having a bit of fun.

With satisfaction, you envelope him with your lips.

He shudders under the sudden shock of warmth from your mouth; a flood of sensations to his nerves. You draw him in deeper, massaging him as you delight in his tip touching the back of your throat. You pull free, with a smack of tongue to lips while releasing his balls. A string of saliva catches fractals of light as you swipe it from your bottom lip, glancing up to meet his adoring eyes.

“You’re a sight to behold,” he says, voice deep and gravelly.

He doesn’t realize that he’s the true sight to behold. But you will show him. Show him that he’s all that and more.

You close your eyes, those words washing away all that worry. Lips pressed to his tip, you open your mouth wider to be filled with the entirety of him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck. Your other hand, snaking around his ass and gripping, steadies you as he hisses a profanity.

His hand has slipped from your head to the back of your neck where he holds you tenderly. Though his cock twitches and hips jerk, begging to thrust, he remains self-controlled.

Your own arousal heightens under his strained moans and self suffocated cries. And you take more of him. More of those muffled sounds and praises that keep tumbling out of his mouth with every lick of your tongue. Every languid drag.

You quicken the pace, driven by the urge to please him and a bit of precum spills. You withdraw, lapping it up with a lewd swipe of your tongue.

Stealing another glance up at him, his eyes are closed, head falling back against the tree bark and that self control wavers with a desperate, “please,” and squeeze of your neck.

You oblige happily, losing yourself to his shudders and sighs. Ravishing his length in your mouth, setting a rhythm that pushes him to the precipice, guides him to the edge. His nails dig into your shoulder as you draw him in and out of your mouth. One great sigh and the grip of his hand loosens. Salt and warmth slide down your throat and you still your lips, gently sucking the remainder of his spend.

You swallow each and every last drop. With one last suck before release, his hands pull you away, drawing you up to his lips as he bends over you. Kisses you, urgent and besotted. After a few moments lost in the taste of one another, you break apart. Breathless. Come together again in a desperate embrace. Suspended in time, the sky brightens to almost blinding within the next hour. You never want to let him go. But the others will start to wonder. Unless—

“We should get back,” you say. “We need to check on the others.”

“Why?” Sam asks, tucking himself away and adjusting his pants. He buckles his belt.

“I had to do things differently this time—in Nishina. It’s why I was so worried I couldn’t find you. I was terrified something happened and—what if that something happened to the others—to Cora.” There’s that little flutter of panic again.

“Shh,” he says, pulling you back against his chest. “They’re alright,” he reassures.

“How do you know?”

He pulls away, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “I’ve already checked in on them through the comms. They’re okay. We’re all okay.”

You can feel the moisture in the corner of your eye but you wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, kissing your forehead, then your cheek. Finally your lips. “Immensely and totally.”

And you know this in every fiber of your being but it is a relief to have it spoken. After everything.

You snatch up his jacket from the ground and dust it off. Hold it open as he stuffs an arm in, shirking it back on. Taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it once.

“I love you Sam Coe, and when we get to a quieter place, I’m going to spend a whole day showing you just how much.”

“Holding me hostage for a day, then?”

“Make that a week.”

With a chuckle and squeeze of your hand, he says, “I’m all yours, darlin’.”

And together you find your way back to the ship.

[atonalginger]

Final Update for Starborn Saga

It's done. It's up there! You can find it on ao3

Here

a snippet:

“Hey Cap,” Jazz’s voice came through the speaker, cutting off Delgado, “Real glad you showed up. These battleships’ shields are next level and I can’t run the whole battery through my targeting system. Care to take some and we can pop those bastards like party balloons?” “Goose can patch them in,” Lila hit the thrusters to dodge fire and lurched forward, pulling up to fire on a smaller fighter that tried to buzz her ship. For being a 40m hauler, the War Bard was an nimble as a Deimos fighter. “Hell yeah he can!” Jazz laughed, “Kids a fucking Wiz!” “Cut the chatter!” Delgado yelled, “Get them away from the fucking Key!”

To start from the beginning you can click here.

[notyourramona]

The Stages of Me

This timeline takes place somewhere in between the previous works: Settling with the Stars and Cellar Door.

Our main character is learning to live a life where her past no longer has to burden them as it once did and what that means for them. The challenges of learning to how to exist outside of a cycle you were born into against your will and what it means to really have strength. While also featuring some of the Crimson Fleet storyline.

Word Count: 4,621

Chapter: 1/4

No real tag warnings at the moment but as the chapters update, I will add them.

Please enjoy!

           Ghoul stood on the edge of the launch pad with her hands on her hips in pride. The mammoth size victory that stood in front of her was almost overwhelming and she was just about to jump for joy. A new ship that was referred to as, Longsword, was now officially hers and she could not be happier for the extra space and equipment it was going to hold. The majestic ship had a pointed shape, large thrusters, and painted in a sleek metallic black that was of her choice. Ghoul even had extra credits to request some slight modifications on the damn thing. She heard the footsteps of her two companions walk up behind her and she heard an appraising whistle from Sam.

            “Doesn’t it look great?” Ghoul turned to see their first initial reactions to their new home away from home. They had spent three month all cramped in the Frontier and after all that time it was becoming very difficult not to step on each other’s toes. This was especially true since there was only one bed and four humans who needed sleep at some point or another. There were many times where Ghoul found herself sleeping in her captain chair or if she needed sleep, she had even slept in the cargo hold. She only got to sleep in the quiet cargo hold once because as soon as Sam and Andreja finally found her there neither of them where very pleased with her risky choice.  

            “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong I am more than excited for the extra space but this ship is twice the size of the Frontier. Mobility will be a concern if we get in a tight spot.” Sam furrowed his brows a bit as he tried to pick his words carefully not to spoil the mood.

            “I made sure to upgrade the missile and laser systems from the original model of this ship so we could have at least another advantage. I figured if we weren’t going to be able to practice our sharp twirls in space anymore, I could at least strengthen our offense.” Ghoul had a huge smile on her face nevertheless. It was one of the many smiles she found easily on her face as of lately. Traveling with Sam, Andreja, and even little Corra was probably the best of times she had in a very long time, if at all.

            “I think it is something to celebrate. I, for one, was getting tired of being in a cramped vessel full of other bodies.” Andreja chimed in with her sharp accent and she also looked very pleased. “Plus, the color choices are great for camouflage.”

            “Corra is going to be excited.” Sam added as he held his chin in one hand and eyed down the ship. It seemed Sam was going to need some time to warm up to this new ship but Ghoul was sure it would grow on him. “Should I even ask how you got this?” The question made Ghoul slip a guilty look that she tried to desperately cover up by looking around.

            “Where…where is Corra?” Ghoul made her tone sound concerned even though she knew very well Corra was with Sarah as Sarah prepared to take The Frontier back to New Atlantis. The town they were at was Gagarin Landing and even though there wasn’t much here they had a package they delivered in The Frontier. While the other’s checked out the dull town and got something to eat, Ghoul had set up with the local Ship technician to have their new ship delivered here. Corra had caught Ghoul in the act of setting up this new delivery so it was no longer a secret for the sneaky kid but Ghoul cut a deal that she got to pick her bed first if she didn’t spill the beans to everyone else. Thankfully the tiny Coe agreed but added the fact that she also needed to say her goodbyes to the Frontier and it amused Ghoul how attached Corra got to ships just like her father did.

            “That wasn’t really an answer.” Sam pointed out and his eyebrow raised as he looked at Ghoul suspiciously. Ghoul avoided eye contact with the cowboy because he had a habit of slipping her the same look, he would give Corra when she was in trouble and it always made it her tell on herself. “Andreja?”

            “It is not my story to tell.” Andreja said with amusement as she placed her hand on Ghoul’s shoulder. “All I will say is that perhaps sleeping in that cargo hold was the least risky thing our Captain has done in the last 30 days.” Ghoul shrugged Andreja’s hand off her shoulder and held her own hand to her chest as she gasped in disbelief.

            “I beg to differ. You were the one who decided to break the man’s hand and we both know they could have very well had ordered a firing squad on us after that.” Ghoul contested with Andreja as she tried to play innocent as if she wasn’t the one who sat with Ghoul during that game of cards on The Key.

            “He was obviously cheating and someone had to stop him.” Andreja’s accent came out a little thicker followed by a hearty chuckle and Ghoul saw her cheeks flush a little. Sam was standing there trying to keep up and put the pieces together to get the answer to his question but he was getting just as frustrated with how Ghoul was dancing around it.

            “What the hell are the two of you talking about?” Sam asked with a strained voice and it was becoming clear in his body language that his patience was coming to an end. Ghoul nervously laughed and pushed her hand through her crimson bangs to push them out of her face. At her recent trip to Enhance she dyed her hair an extremely bright red and it complemented her golden eyes. Ghoul noticed when she played with her hair like that it was like a nervous tick of hers.

            “You have to promise not to get mad.” Ghoul gave him a semi pleading look because she knew how much he hated when she agreed to do Crimson Fleet errands for the UC SysDef. The first time she got cornered by SysDef Marines Sam was with her and he was absolutely not on board with helping the UC with a job ‘they obviously have the man power for already’. However, they did catch Ghoul after she had stolen a very expensive item from a Trade Authority ship, she was invited on so she didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. Sam’s arms were crossed and he was already tapping his foot in anticipation. He knew whenever Ghoul asked for him not to be mad it was normally something extremely asinine and dangerous.

            “So, remember Corra’s birthday a couple weeks ago? And I got you guy’s tickets to see that movie and a room at the Stoneroot Inn to spend the weekend celebrating? Cause that’s where that book shop in Akila is that she really likes?” Ghoul was starting to ramble a bit at this point to stall. Andreja already had waved goodbye to leave her alone to explain the situation to Sam, mostly because Andreja never felt the need to explain her actions to anyone.

            “Yes.” He stood there patiently waiting for Ghoul to get to the point.

            “So, I had an errand to run that Andreja said she would help me with. We ended up spending one of the nights on The Key.” Ghoul said the location very softly trying to judge his reaction but Sam just continued to wait patiently to hear the rest. “They have grown to like me there so I was asked to join a round of poker with Delgado…and Andreja is very good at cards, surprisingly. So good in fact we both won enough to get a new ship and Andreja may or may not have broken one of his Captain’s hands because she caught him cheating. I’ll admit Delgado was ready to kill us on spot but we were a few bottles of Bayu’s Private Reserve in and well he laughed it off. It was really easy to distract him and win even more credits plus it was nice seeing Andreja of all people let lose. So yeah, I won some credits and now we got a new ship!” Ghoul ended her quickly spoken rant with spreading her leg stance and raising her arms in the direction of the ship to emphasize how awesome the new ship was. She was hoping her positive and laugh it off attitude would soothe over the fact that she had spent time with someone who was the opposite of her friend’s moral beliefs. Sam covered his hand with his face for a moment and let out a big breath of frustration before he focused his blue stern eyes back on Ghoul.

            “I thought you said you weren’t going to associate with them unless it was for the UC SysDef? What was going on to make you want to play cards with…him of all people?” Sam had taken a step toward Ghoul so he could connect with her more as he spoke. He was not happy and it showed but it wasn’t rage on his face. It was disappointment and the stern tone he gave her made her stomach tighten into a ball. “I understand wanting to enjoy yourself but you got to look out for yourself. We didn’t need a new ship if it meant you were putting yourself in danger again.”

            “I had it under control.” Ghoul said getting defensive and crossing her arms. She even took a step back so Sam was no longer within her reach and made a point to not look him in the eyes. This was one of the reasons she didn’t even want him to know what she did that night and she originally planned to not even tell him.

            “You may think you have had it under control but you don’t.” Sam’s voice was gravelly at the end of his statement. “What would have happened if Andreja and you had gotten a bounty on your heads from the Crimson Fleet after that? I can’t have that kind of behavior around Corra it’s-.”

            “It’s what? You and Corra weren’t even around when it happened!” Ghoul interrupted his lecture with throwing her hands in the air. “I would never put Corra in danger and you of all people should know that by now.” She pointed her finger at him offended at where this conversation was going. Ghoul was now trying to keep herself composed but the way he looked at her with those eyes made her burn inside with growing rage.

            “I’m not saying you are putting her in danger. I am saying that I understand that…lifestyle. It’s hard to break but it’s possible and if you need help, I am always...”

            “No, no.” Ghoul interrupted him again this time her voice raising in pitch and volume. “You of all people don’t give me that shit. I didn’t go on a fucking aurora binge and stay up all weekend fucking who knows what.” As soon the words came out, she immediately regretted it but her pride just had her pursed her lips instead of taking it back immediately. Sam’s face flushed red with anger and his blue eyes grew dark but his tone remained the same calm gravelly tone.

            “That’s not fair and I know you know that. I don’t think I can talk to you right now. Not like this.” He turned his way towards the new ship and Ghoul could see the tension in his shoulders as he huffed silently away. Ghoul was still angry herself and immaturely decided to get the last word in.

            “Good thing I got us a bigger ship so you don’t even have to when we leave this fucking planet!” She yelled at him but he continued to saunter off without turning. Ghoul turned the opposite direction and walked towards the metal made town. She was frustrated with herself and with him for always feeling the need to address how she lived her life. She wasn’t the one chained down with a kid in fact quite the opposite. The Constellation had fixed the bounty originally on her head by Ryujin Industries and for the first time in her life she was free to do whatever the fuck she wanted without worrying about looking back. ‘That kind of behavior’ his voice repeated in her head as Ghoul continued the opposite direction. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going till, she heard Sarah Morgan in the distance.

            “Ghoul! Where are you going?” Sarah was standing there in a baby blue dress and her red leather jacket. Corra was with her in some cargo pants and a purple shirt that had Corra’s favorite animated character on it. Ghoul took a deep breath in through her mouth and then let it slowly fade out her nose to calm herself down so neither of them would notice her shift in mood. There was no reason for them to get involved with Sam’s and Ghoul’s silly squabble.

            “I was looking for you two!” Ghoul smiled at them as big as she could and in a subtle motion rolled her shoulder blades to release any lingering tension as she approached them. “The ship is here and ready for the most part. Did you get to say your personal farewell, kiddo?”

            “Yes, and I left one of my favorite books there so it will keep it safe.” Corra said excitedly and Ghoul ruffled her hair.

            “I will fly The Frontier back to New Atlantis. Are you all coming back to the Lodge or do you still have tasks to do?” Sarah led them forward as they all headed towards the ship. Ghoul hesitated for a short moment because a part of her wanted more time to cool down but she followed them anyway.

            “There is still much to do. In the past three months we’ve only retrieved two out of the five Artifacts we need to gather. I also have been pulled in several directions the past month so it has slowed us down a bit.” Ghoul reported to the Chair of Constellation. They were not always on the best of terms but they were both at a point now where they could appreciate each other’s directness.

            “Go on ahead Corra. I am sure your father is missing you already.” Sarah said now that they were within eyeshot of the new space traveling vessel Ghoul owned. Corra nodded and gave Sarah a hug before running with all her might to the ship. The one thing Ghoul could never wrap her head around was the amount of energy that child always had. They both watched Corra run off before Sarah’s voice broke the silence. “How have you been as of late? I heard the UC SysDef has had you undercover.”

            “I’m assuming Sam told you that.” Ghoul said under her breath a bit sounding irate.

            “No, actually Commander John Tuala an old friend of mine, did when I spoke to him the other day.” Sarah looked at Ghoul with a puzzled look. She could see on Sarah’s face that there were other questions she now wanted to ask but decided it was for the best to not meddle. “I am only asking because being undercover can be high stakes pressure and with having to gather these Artifacts across the universe I am worried you aren’t allowing yourself any rest.”

            “I’m fine, promise.” Ghoul tried to reassure Sarah but she didn’t look very convinced.

            “Don’t stress yourself too thin, allow time for rest and recuperation. It will help you go a long way.” Sarah said softly and she leaned in to give Ghoul a hug. Ghoul was stiff for a moment but ultimately leaned into it as well to not come off as rude.

            “I will make sure to rest.”

            “Good cause you look like absolute shit.” Sarah laughed and Ghoul gave her a look of surprise in jest before laughing as well.

            “I am going to report you to the HR department if you keep insulting me like that.” Ghoul laughed again with Sarah and then she found herself looking at her new ship, the Longsword with a twinge of regret but pride too.

            “I told you the day you joined our little family that it did not matter what you did or how you got here as long as you didn’t have the UC knocking on our front door.” Sarah said softly and her eyes looked fiercely at Ghoul. “Don’t lose yourself out there, Ghoul. Remember at the end of the day no matter where you are, you carry the honor of the Constellation with you wherever you go.”

            “Yes.” Ghoul agreed with her. “I try to remind myself that every day.”  

            “Good.” Sarah then in a loving gesture patted Ghoul’s back. “Check in sometimes. I worry about the four of you being out there for so long.” Ghoul nodded her head and watched the blonde bombshell walk off to her side of the space port to head back to the Lodge. Ghoul took a large and deep breath to fill her lungs to the brim of the planet’s oxygen and then slowly released it and focused on grounding her body to the now.

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            The inside of the ship was absolutely brilliant looking and Ghoul tried very hard to keep her jaw from falling in shock. There was a whole crew station with four beds, a kitchenette, plenty of storage and even more space to add more furniture if she wanted. The table in the crew station was also rather long like the table at the Lodge and had about five chairs. The cargo hold was bigger than the other ships and even had more shelving for organizing and straps to lock the cargo in better. There was an entire room full of workbenches, research labs, and a couple desks to mange projects on. Ghoul really couldn’t believe it was nicer than she thought it was going to be. Everyone was already settling in with there personal and items and in the workspace room Ghoul caught Corra stacking some of her books on a free shelf. Corra was extremely focused on her task and it brought a smile to Ghoul’s face to see that she was finally getting to have her own little library. Ghoul walked towards the cockpit to go to the captain’s locker. She had planned to put some of her own personal items inside of there for safe keeping along with slates that stated the whereabouts and information of some of the Crimson Fleet members. Last thing Ghoul wanted was for Corra to find out someone she looked up to was working for pirates even if it was undercover. It was the one thing Sam had requested of Ghoul that she agreed with. When she arrived to the locker, she saw Sam was sitting in the captain’s chair analyzing where the different engage switches and console control buttons were situated. Ghoul was finally feeling comfortable flying a Class B ship and she knew he was well aware on how to fly up to Class C.

            “Do the controls look like they are in comfortable positions?” She asked him not fully expecting an answer but was at least attempting to be civil. Ghoul heard a faint grunt under his breath and she looked at him from her peripheral to see if he was in one of his sassy moods. She couldn’t blame him for what she said to him but he also needed to learn when to draw the line with telling her how to act or live her life. She was fine and she knew she had things under control because it was rare now in days that she didn’t.

            “It won’t be hard to adjust too.” He finally responded to her after a few moments of silence but he didn’t dare look at her just yet. His body language was still a little rigid but by his tone she could tell he was at least not as angry as he was before.

            “Good.” She huffed a bit as she shoved the last object into the captain’s locker. It was a Galacticcat that she did not like to advertise and always did her best to keep out of sight because it was an embarrassing object she held onto dearly. She never had anything like it as a child and for some reason now as an adult she couldn’t get rid of it after finding it in an abandoned lab station. Once she stuffed it into the locker it made its little galactic noises and she quickly closed the locker, locking it immediately. Ghoul turned to make sure Sam wasn’t looking but there were his blue eyes staring at her in curiosity and she could see a faint curl in his lips.

“No, you may not ask and no I am not going to tell you.” Ghoul said drastically and he gave no motion on whether he was going to press or not. She was ready to change the nonexistent subject.

“Put coordinates in for Cydonia.” She commanded with a bit of aggression, still slightly annoyed with his face but then she paused herself. “Please.”

“Can I ask why we are going there at least?” His voice was unamused and the question sounded rhetorical.

“I got orders to meet a man there for an item.” Ghoul kept it vague because she didn’t want to have the same argument they had been having on and off for a month now about her agreeing to be undercover.

“Orders? So, another task for the Crimson Fleet.” Sam gritted his teeth as he turned back to the console board and begun to flip the engage switches to power the engines with a passiveness that was extremely obvious to anyone who watched him.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answer’s too.” Ghoul muttered with the same annoyance she had towards him earlier. She was tired of them butting heads so much and it took a lot of effort for her not to let Corra or Andreja notice. A part of her felt extremely guilty for the quarrels because it would just remind her of the arguments, she had heard him have on the phone with Cora’s mom and that was the last person she wanted to ever be compared to.

“Dully noted.” He said with temporary surrender. Ghoul no longer wanted to be within close proximity of him anymore and just left the cockpit without saying anything else. There was currently not enough space on this ship for the both of their stubborn attitudes. She found her way to the back where the crew living quarters were and enjoyed to see that everyone had already claimed their preferred shelves, beds, and storage crates. Corra had already gone around and labeled things with the label gun that had glittery print that Ghoul had got her for her birthday. It was heart warming to see it was put to good use. The last bed available was below Andreja’s which was no surprise to Ghoul. She threw herself onto the bed feeling the weight of her stress crush her further into the soft bed.

“I am assuming it went as well as you thought it would.” Andreja had come into the room and was leaning over Ghoul with her arm resting on the top bunk. Her stature was relaxed and her thick thighs held her in place along with the arm that rested on the bunk above her. Andreja was a site to behold sometimes and Ghoul always wondered how she managed to keep her build like that. She was like an Old Earth’s Amazon warrior, they were described in a history book Corra had lent her once and it was interesting to read of whole cities who were led by a matriarchy.

“Bingo.” Ghoul said as she put her arms behind her head and looking solemnly at the bottom of the bunk above her. “I am getting exhausted repeating myself and I don’t know what to say at this point.”

“Some things require time. We have been cramped on top of each other for several months now.” Andreja said with disdain and Ghoul understood why. Andreja had confided in her in the past about her anxiety of being in cramped small spaces and she knew it was probably a living hell for the first couple weeks getting use to them all being together on The Frontier.

“Yeah, well now we are on top of each other with some extra space.” Ghoul said sarcastically.

“Carmilla, you are always so quick to deflect things when you know you should be honest with your feelings.” Andreja said softly and she leaned in when she said it so only the two of them would hear. Andreja was crouched in front of Ghoul and her hand was placed softly in Ghoul’s hand. Ghoul’s cheeks flushed from the intimacy of hearing her parent given name come out of Andreja’s lips. It was something she shared with Andreja months ago when Andreja told her about her family’s past. Ghoul thought it was only fair after she had shared that part of herself with her that Andreja would know a part of her no one else knew as well.

“It is not that easy.” Ghoul spoke softly back carrying on the closeness of the conversation. Their relationship had grown closer along their travels and it seemed like Sam and Ghoul’s were growing apart the further they traveled. It hurt to an extent but ultimately, she knew it was her fault for not pursuing him after that night at the Lodge.

“We of all people know life isn’t easy but that hasn’t stopped either of us beforehand. You need to talk to him because the tension is starting to become more obvious.” Andreja sounded soothing at first but her encouragement looked like a command towards the end and the transition made Ghoul laugh.

“I will eventually.” She sat up and her face was now very close to Andreja’s. “I have to grab information on Cydonia for Delgado. Will you come with me?”

“Is it going to be anything like the last time?”

“Are you going to go breaking people’s hands?”

“I cannot promise-.”

“You do not have to, not if you enjoyed yourself y’know.” Ghoul wasn’t sure why they continued to whisper but something told her it was better to keep it this way. This conversation was just for the both of them anyway. Andreja laughed at Ghoul’s bold statement.

“Are you telling me I can go around breaking bones as long as I find it ‘fun’? That doesn’t sound ethical.”

“You know what I meant. Miss, I never have fun. Why else do you think I insist you try to do risky things?” Ghoul teased her with a light punch in the shoulder. “I will admit it has been nice to have a friend to enjoy myself with.”

“Perhaps you just wanted to have an excuse to let go from the burdens of your past.” Andreja said with her other worldly wisdom but then her brown eyes darted to the hallway. She spoke her next sentence louder than they had been talking as she stood up. “I think that course of action is the safest.” Ghoul was looking at her puzzled till she heard and then saw the leather boots come down the hall.

“Sound’s good, Andreja.” She mirrored the volume Andreja spoke at to make it sound like they were carrying on a normal conversation that wasn’t whispered. “Wake me up when we arrive. Sarah ordered me to rest.”

[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.

[fangbangerghoul]

I wanted to do something fun for making it to my 100-follower count! So, in honor of all my mutuals and followers I am going to do mini prompts to those who request it in my asks! (you do not have to be a mutual, all followers are welcomed)

You must list: a short sensory description, an emotion, and a random object. Along with a preferred ship or if you just want something OG you can request that too. (I'll accept a mood board too, but I still need ship details)

You can request my own ships (Ghoul x Val, Delgado, Sam Coe, Gale, Astarion, Anton, Halsin, Andreja, etc) or if you describe your own dynamic I will do my best!

The word count will be 100 - 200 words (so allow time for me to respond please)

I will accept 2 asks from the same person.

I will accept asks until 04/18/24

This is supposed to be fun and a way for me to give back my appreciation to everyone who has reblogged, liked, or commented on my posts and my AO3 content.

[simplywintry]

to all of you out here writing amazing sam coe x dusty/reader fics, you're all collectively a gift from the cosmos

[thatsgoodsquishy0]

Pairing: F!Reader x Ranger!Sam Coe Rating: M+ Bio: Set during Sam’s younger years working as a Freestar Ranger alongside his wife, Lillian Hart. Whether circumstance, or impossible luck, you're given a second chance at life, ultimately growing close to The Coes. You take a shine to Cora, but the family dynamic is something else entirely, albeit a little overwhelming, as you realize the toll Lillian's absence has taken on the family, but more specifically, her husband. Sam Coe is witty, charming, and ambitious; a man who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to reach his goals, but when his wife seems to prioritize her career over her family, it's hard not to notice the strain growing inside him. Your friendship may be just the support Sam needs, even if the temptations for something more linger, and when your past threatens your future, where will your morals lie? Will you end up back where you started? Chemistry is a cruel mistress chapter i: Bound cross-posted to AO3 credit of course to the lovely @seraaphiel for keeping the Ranger!Sam spirit alive & @cafekitsune for the divider. special thanks to @fangbangerghoul and @bearlytolerant for literally hyping me up every day to write this fic. your endless support and love inspire me more than you know. and THANK YOU to the readers who've enjoyed this journey so far!! <3

i listened to this song from the Red Dead Redemption II soundtrack pretty much on repeat while writing. it fits the vibe of the chapter, and if you'd like a little extra immersion, feel free to play it whilst reading.

ii. MAN OVERBOARD

You stood beneath the torrent of water, your skin gently scalding as you waited for your body to adjust to the temperature. When it did, you sighed and stared at the shower wall, gaze blank. Your hair felt heavy, weighed down by the stream and caked with blood that was slowly breaking away. You looked down at your feet. Grime and gore snaked through the grout of the tile floor, slipping into the holes of the drain, gurgling as steam enveloped the shower.

Minutes passed. You waited for the water to run clear. Streaks of diluted red flowed down your chest, past your stomach, and in between your legs, reaching the bottom. You lifted your hands, eyes glaring at the bracelets of purple and black wrapped around your wrists. You turned your palms towards the ceiling assessing the rest of your injury, only to find your hands trembling; inflamed with anger. A scream simmered in your throat, ready to boil over. Whether the heat of the water or justified wrath seething within, your face reddened and nostrils flared. Your lips curled as you parted them, ready, but then, you drew a steady breath instead; a warning to yourself to behave, be civil, because this was not your space. 

You were a trespasser. 

You quickly grabbed for the nearest shampoo bottle and squeezed a handful into your palm, lathered it up, then rocked your hands back and forth against your scalp. Frothy bubbles of red poured down and settled between your toes. You swiped your foot towards the drain, flicking away the bubbles, splashing your soles against the floor. You shivered as the water devolved to luke-warm, and frantically, you scrubbed your skull raw. You closed your eyes. Rinsed. Grabbed another handful of shampoo. Lathered. Scrubbed. Rinsed. 

By the time you finished, you felt as though the nerves in your wrist might snap. Your vision blurred by a mix of water and tears, your legs buckled as if they were jelly. You slid back against the wall and curled your legs into your chest as you rested your forehead against the fresh bruises on your kneecaps. Underneath the water with your lips locked, you allowed yourself to cry, tears streaming into the rushing cool. If no one heard you, it would be okay. 

You were owed this, and with time, vengeance against him would owe you, too. 

Sam 

The mission was straight and narrow, albeit improvised, but when it came to the badge, Sam was no stranger to unscripted moments. Hell, he enjoyed spontaneity most of the time, but when an innocent’s life entered the picture, there were strict rules he followed – a code to adhere to; be on the same page. Disagreement was a form of arguing, and arguments led to distractions, and distractions got you killed. Sam lounged back in his chair, his feet propped on the desk and arms crossed against his chest as he waited for Lillian to finish her debriefing with the Marshal. He knew this was coming, still he bit the inside of his cheek. He had every right to that conversation, yet she kept him on the sidelines, as if he were a witness, but maybe it was best that way. Lillian’s memory was exceptional and she’d have a thoroughly combed-through report for Marshal Blake, all the while Sam brushed past details he thought were trivial, like what time the ship was ambushed.

But there was nothing in that report about Sam recognizing the rescued woman.

Weeks ago, he was sitting at the bar nursing his second thumbs worth of whiskey, his attempt at unwinding from the day proving idle as he drank. His hat was warm against his head, the beginning thrums of a migraine settling in. He shut his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. Cora was just getting over a fever, which meant she’d spent more than enough time with Jacob. 

He counted — four days. Four days without her. He was stir-crazy, his father’s intuition scratching at his bones as every waking thought flashed to the Coe Estate, little Cora putzing around and Jacob’s manipulative eyes beaming upon her as he planned her entire future. Bet that just got his bastard heart beating with pride thinking she’d carry on the legacy someday -- the dreaded Coe legacy, at least, the one Jacob twisted to fit into his narrative. 

Sam’s lips grimaced against the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

His absence was justified (warranted, at least, by his leaders), but one day without his daughter was tough enough. Four days was agony, and Lillian wasn’t much comfort considering the only conversations they seemed to share were Ranger-related. 

The Rangers could wipe out every single drug lord in the Settled Systems and Sam still wouldn’t sleep a wink – not without twinges of guilt stabbing him through the night.

He signaled for a third glass of amber liquid, and for a fleeting second imagined the opportunities of fatherhood and marriage away from the Freestar Rangers.

As soon as his drink manifested in front of him, he tabled the thought, thanked the bartender, then lifted the edge of the glass to his lips. He took a burning swig, familiar heat landing in his stomach as he wiped his mouth, and then, he saw her; face plastered on the tv screen, a lifted curve to her lips and a gleaming kindness in her eye —  a complete departure from the woman Sam would later carry out of a fried spaceship filled with dead bodies. The camera focused on a plaque sandwiched between her and another adult, some official maybe, outside a storefront.

… but which store was it again?

Sam shook off his recollection, his focus turning to Lillian’s chestnut brown ponytail as it swung to the side as she spoke. Her hip jutted out just a tad; one of the few mannerisms Sam picked up on over the years. His gaze lingered with anticipation, tracing modestly all the ways the ranger’s outfit hugged her body. Some days, he couldn’t believe they were a young married couple fighting the good fight, and other days, it was suspicious; this future he never conceived for himself, laid out by a woman who shared his last name, and was the mother of his child. 

Sam guessed she was wrapping up her conversation; the body cue being a slight turn away from the other Ranger, as if her mind were there, but her body was ready to leave. She caught his stare, but offered little more than a cocked eyebrow and neutral gaze. Sam gifted a smile, teeth and all, to his wife as she traveled closer. 

“Feet down,” Lillian said, her southern drawl popping out. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam uncrossed his arms as he sat upright in his chair, adjusted his hat. “So, what’d the Marshal have to say?”

“You’re gonna love this. Turns out that ship we ambushed? Stolen. Reported weeks ago. We’ll have to notify the owner of its condition and locale, which unfortunately means more paperwork on our end.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna want it once we tell’em, well, whatever it is we’re gonna tell’em.”

“That won’t be our problem. Marshal said if that woman was found on that ship alive, chances are she’s involved.”

“You don’t think, wrong place, wrong time? Sort of thing?”

Lillian shook her head. “I get the sick feeling they were keeping her for something.”

“Which means there was some serious illegal shit happenin’ on that ship,” Sam stated, his mind recalling what lined the path to the cockpit; dead bodies, ecliptics, … cases of harvested organs.  

His stomach churned. 

Lillian grabbed a slate from her pocket, pushed a few buttons, then brought the screen closer to Sam.“These were the ship’s last inputted coordinates. I had them downloaded before we left. Once we crack this, we’ll know where they were headed. Hopefully that, plus any information this woman is willing to spill, should give us enough of a lead.”

“You really went the extra mile, Mrs. Coe.” He stood from his chair, closing the distance between them. He traced the outline of her lips, his eyes noting the divot on the top in the middle. He could kiss her now, hell, he wanted to, if not for the active duty reminder on her chest.

“Oh, Sam. I’m just doing my job.”

“And you do it so well,” he replied. 

Her smile beamed, as if that was her favorite compliment to hear from him. Sam leaned his palms against the desk, and dropped his head forward, stretching out his neck. “Should I grab us some Terrabrew?” A longing in his heart guided him closer, practically breathing her own air as the gravel in his voice barely whispered. “Could be a long night.”

“I’m alright, thanks.” She grabbed his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Shouldn’t be a long night if she cooperates,” Lillian said.

Sam’s hands itched to grab her waist, but his restraint knew better. “And if she doesn’t?” 

“Then we’ll have to use oppressive measures.”

He pressed his lips together immediately, words backpedaling against his tongue.“I — um, I thought we weren’t gonna go that route. She’s been through enough, don’t you think?”

“That was before she became a possible suspect, Sam. Don’t go soft on me now.”

“Ain’t going soft on you, but we gotta look at it differently. If we go in there yelling and screaming at her, she’s gonna clam up, then we’ll absolutely get that long night.” 

Lillian paused, grazing over his innuendo as she pursed her lip. “If that’s what you think we should do.”

Instinct nudged at Sam’s subconscious. He’d done this before; hell, he was an expert at this point. The only achievable method towards controlling the unattainable was befriending the impossible; becoming a false ally. The Coe name wouldn’t work in this scenario, he knew that, but the skills collected throughout his years as a rebellious adult taught him a thing or two about word play, specifically, verbal disguise — manipulation. 

“I mean … if that’s what you think would work,” he double checked. “I just think if we get her to trust us, she’ll lay her cards out on the table.”

Lillian cocked her head, arms crossing in front of her chest as she stifled a frown, leaned back against the desk. “It could work, and it could not. We can’t risk this plan failing. What if she refuses to tell us anything at all?”

“She won’t.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Cuz even if she was involved, nearly getting shot by ecliptics wasn’t part of the plan. If we didn’t show up when we did, guns ablazin, she’d be dead.” 

“But how can you be so sure?”

Twice. She disagreed with him twice, now, which was conventional and always came from a place of concern, but even something as routine as administering a trauma pack to a survivor shouldn’t have been a slippery slope, yet the argument steamed up a train of thought that chugged at his brain. Comparatively, Lillian’s motives centered around the heart of what it meant to be a Ranger; Frontier Justice — protecting and preserving the best interests for the Freestar Collective, but her experience with the seedy Underbelly of the black market was only surface level. Sam didn’t write the book when it came to smuggling, but he definitely had his hand in a few chapters. He recognized his talents, beyond piloting a ship. Lillian was due for that reminder. 

Down the hall, the woman waited in the room. Confidence swelled inside his chest. He was capable of making Lillian and The Rangers proud.

He met Lillian’s eyes, speaking directly into them as not only her partner, but her husband as well. 

“Let me talk to her.”

The Ranger’s interrogation room consisted of three gray walls with an accent brick wall mixed in, a table and a chair, and a single two-way mirror. Sam had listened to many culprits inside the square asylum, a place he’d heard justifications ranging from misunderstandings in a bar to cold-blooded murder. Innocent until proven guilty was an old earth law, but credibility lurked within the ancient rule still, even if the Ranger’s didn’t out rightly practice it. He’d give this woman the benefit of the doubt until his morals persuaded him she was liable enough for arrest. 

But that’s if he could get her to speak. 

Lillian’s focal point consisted on cracking the coordinates for the ship’s final landing, as well as finding the owner of the stolen vessel. Sam knew she preferred to have her hands full rather than empty, sometimes taking on more than he thought she could handle, but he respected his wife’s decisions, knowing her ambitions meant new leads for the Rangers to follow, and he snatched up any opportunity to assist where he felt the most helpful. 

A rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins as he took a breath, remembering the mission, remembering what Lillian expected, what The Rangers expected. The door creaked mildly as he pushed it open.

If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he entered the wrong room. 

She appeared human; a near perfect clone of the woman he’d caught a glimpse of on TV. The air smelt of dust and earth, but there was a trace smell he could only describe as the planetside scent of a descending waterfall. Sam met her anonymous stare, his own nameless as he sat down and cleared his throat.

“Do you remember me?” He asked.

She nodded her head. A flatness to her eyes.

“How are you, uh, feelin?”

“Fine.”

Was she already lying? How could he be so sure? What answer did he expect to hear the moment the question left his lips? He asked out of courtesy, a spark to break the ice, but it felt out of place, like forced small talk, but fact of the matter was she didn’t weep or fold into a blubbering, nonsensical mess, like he predicted.

Strangely, a sense of reverence led Sam forward. 

“Can I get you some water?”

“No.”

Her composure remained as stiff as her back against the wood slats of the chair. Whatever her angle, he had to play his hand logically. Stamp the obvious on the forefront of his brain; she was here for a reason.

“Alright. I’m gonna ask you some questions. I know you’ve been through hell and back, but I need you to answer them honestly, okay? We want whoever did this to you to face severe punishment. I’m sure you want that, too … you do, right?”

In that moment, it was as if the gears stuttered within the mechanism of her brain as her face hid any indication of an answer. Sam waited, greatly anticipating her response, his elbows propped on the table and folded hands inches away from his chin. He tilted his head, and when she still didn’t speak, he verbally poked her. “Ma’am? Do you want justice against the one who did this to you?”

Her face shot up, eyes cold. “I do.”

“Alright then,” he began, leaning forward, his hands dropping onto the table. “We’ll start from the beginning, ease ya into it. What do you remember before the events of last night?” 

Her hardened persistence remained, but he noticed the small lax in her shoulders as she took a breath. Her eyes closed. “I was at my friend’s apartment, just needed a box of my things that I’d forgotten,” she recalled, opening her eyes, her hues connecting to Sam’s. “I couldn’t just leave it there, but I thought about it. I thought about turning around and going back home, but I didn’t.”

“Must have been important to you — whatever was in that box.”

“I – I like to collect old Earth books. Sinclair’s pays me to refurbish them as best I can, and then I donate extra copies around the Settled Systems.”

Sinclair’s. That was the storefront she posed in front of on TV. 

He leaned back against his chair, his cowboy hat tipped gently, shadowing his forehead under luminescent ceiling lights. “My daughter? Loves books. She just goes crazy for them. Of course, she can’t read them yet, but when I read to her, she giggles her little head off.” He offered a lightness in the room, sharing something normal, something friendly, something … definite, as the real questions simmered on the tip of his tongue.  “Did you ever get your books back?”

“No.”

Sam frowned. “I imagine those books took some hard work to find. When this is over, would you like us to help track them down for you?”

She smirked, thinly, neither coy nor aggressive. “You won’t find them. They were jettisoned into space. Besides, it’s not that important.” She averted her eyes. “Not anymore, at least.”

He could hear the subdued ache within her words, but he still wasn’t pushing her enough.   

“How did you find out your things had been scrapped?”

“I just … sort of assumed.”

“You assumed?” Sam repeated.

“Well, I … I really don’t remember.”

“Could you try?”

“I am trying, sir.”

“It’s Sam. Just Sam is fine.”

“Okay, Sam,” she said. “It’s all just … I don’t know. Blurry.”

  “It’s common for foggy gaps in the memory when you’ve gone through … everything you’ve gone through.” He switched directions, like a sly fox cornering his prey. “Those assumptions you felt, they came from somewhere, and you didn’t leave the apartment. Did your friend ever come back?”

“No, I never saw him,” she said, an unusual rise in her vocal tone. 

“If you never saw him and you don’t remember what happened last night, then how did you get on that ship?”  

“Sir — Sam, I – I don’t know –”

“ – cuz that’s a large chunk of time not accounted for, and suddenly you just, don’t remember?”

“Like you said, brain fog and —”

“No, your selective memory’s not adding up, and I’m willing to bet credits you've been lyin’ for some time now.”

“No I’m not lying it’s just — fuck,” her voice cracked on the swear, her hands quick to cradle her head. Sam stared at the deep purple and blue bruises bound around her wrists. His throat burned. He twisted his focus elsewhere. “Look,” she started, “It’s not that I don’t want to help you, okay? I’m just – so fucked.” Her breaths shortened, raspy and thin as her forehead met the table with a thunk, arms barricading her face. 

Inside the small of the room her confession lingered. The air was flexible now, much to Sam’s chagrin, knowing that whatever, or whoever, possessed her to lie to his face still controlled her thoughts even after all the nightmares she endured. 

But lying to a Ranger — that was a punishable offense. 

Muffled sobs clogged the room. An ache of sympathy lumped in Sam’s throat. He knew his duties, abided by them each time he fastened his badge to the uniform, but something about her confession pulled on his judgment. No moments of clarity graced this woman as she continued to wail, her pain amplified by what Sam could only imagine was the threatening fear of fate now that she’d confessed. 

He swallowed. “I, um, uh … well, I appreciate your honesty, and if you could continue to give me that, I’ll … I’ll try and help you as best as I can.” He paused, quickly adding, “I can’t promise anything, but, if you tell me the truth from here on out … you have my word that I will try. Alright?”

She sniffled, her eyes slowly poking out from the crevice of her forearm, cheeks dampened and lips swollen. She considered him with a long pause, and finally, as silence embraced the room again, he watched her sit up. “I don’t know how you could help me.”

“We’re reasonable,” Sam encouraged. “And what we do holds alotta weight, being the law and all.”

“No, you don’t understand. There’s nothing the law can do.���

He stifled a chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”

“I would be, actually, considering — fuck, okay.” She inhaled, long and purposeful, as if bracing herself. “I just don’t know, Sam. I’ve backed myself into a corner here and —”

“Then let me help you get out.” He tugged his body forward, catching uncertainty in her eyes as her gaze shuffled around the room, before finally attaching to his. “What are you scared of?” 

“Everything.”

The room seemed to shrink. A sparseness filling Sam’s lungs as he breathed the gravity of her response, and the strain of it all – organs, murders, human smuggling, unbridled fear. His morals never disobeyed him, but the law … the law had its limits.

The Ranger pored over the suspect sitting across from him, and for a moment, her visage morphed to the woman he regarded on TV. The brightness in her eyes, her strong posture, and a smile that stretched across her face. No blood. No bruises. No tears. 

“You were on SSNN, weren’t you?”

“Yes .. I was.”

“I saw you. In front of a store – Sinclair’s maybe? You were smilin’ and holding a plaque of some kind.”

Her eyes bulged, almost as if she’d forgotten as she touched her throat. “My citizen’s award.”

Sam nodded, a thin smile of respect growing on his lips. “Tell me how you got that.”

“... I traveled to a LIST settlement that specializes in fostering families affected by the Colony War. On my trip back, a reporter for SSNN took a seat next to me and … I guess the rest speaks for itself.”

“That’s really amazing. I’m sure those families really appreciated your doing that.”

She gave a half smile; humble but acknowledged. 

Sam continued, “So, how does someone like you end up mixed in with the garbage of this mess?”

She faintly shrugged, shaking her head. “How do any of us end up in the messes we make?”

“Dumb decisions, not thinking about the consequences, … trusting the wrong people.” Sam observed her cadence, gauging any type of reaction that might reveal the rest of her; a twitch of the lip, an averted gaze, something.

“Was your friend involved?”

Nothing. 

“Maybe they bit off more than they could chew? Ran into the wrong, very wrong, crowd? And now you’re payin’ the price because you … you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, too?”

He caught the clench of her jaw. 

“Hell, maybe your friend doesn’t even exist.”

Her face flushed a bright red. “No that’s –”

“Not what? The truth? The truth that’s gonna be your saving grace if you just cooperate with me?”

“Fuck! I’m trying! Okay?!” She slammed her palms on the table, alerting Sam’s trigger finger as his hand flinched to his sidearm, but he didn’t retrieve it as she bellowed. “You think this is easy for me? Huh?! My life is on the line here. Again! And he’ll do much, much worse to me now than whatever those ecliptic fucks were paid to do!”  

Sam raised his hands, his voice calm and diffusing. “Easy. Just — take a breath, and tell me about this he.”

She laughed, a frown etched across her face as she ran her fingers through her hair and held her head. “Might as well, right? I’m as good as dead.”

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Sam said. 

“You have no idea what you’re up against.”

“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with death. Try me.”

His challenge left her rigid, or so Sam thought, until she regarded him earnestly, the whites of her eyes growing pale as she spoke. “How can you be so sure I’ll be safe?”

That damn question again; poking and prodding at his abilities as if his intuition was nothing but a fluke, as if his experience was nothing but fictional. For god sakes, he wouldn’t be alive if it were and he wouldn’t be the man he was today without it teaching him, guiding him, encouraging him. 

As long as this woman revealed what she knew to Sam and The Rangers, he would do everything in his power to make sure she didn’t suffer at the hands of this — this tormentor. Sam was a man of his word.  

“I just am.”

The woman lowered her head, eyes low as if reflecting on what’s to come. Defeated, but not hopeless. 

“Now, can you tell me who he is?” 

“He is … a plague. A disease. The cause of so much suffering across the Settled Systems, and he is … everywhere.”

Sam cocked his eyebrow. “Who?”

“Медведь. The Bear.”

[bearlytolerant]

Shepard, on the run from her past, seeks asylum on Neon. With the funds from a few odd jobs and a shady loan, she purchases a small bookshop. Though her shop is practically failing, she can always count on her favorite customer, Captain Cora Coe to make a weekly purchase. But when she can’t make a loan payment on time, her life gets turned topsy turvy and she’s forced to depend on friends for help.

Three

Jemison teems with all sorts of wildlife.

Cora suggests hunting. “We could get started on those ingredients for Offworld Eats. Maybe restock the lodge freezer too.”

It seems simple enough. Not too dangerous either. Sam agrees and it proves to be both. They land somewhere not too far off from New Atlantis but far enough away that none of the city looms on their horizon.

Sam perches in a lower bough of a tree, shaded by the green canopy, waiting. Just like he’s been waiting for a couple hours now. His stomach growls and he throws the rifle over his shoulder, adjusting the strap. A small insect buzzes in his ear and he waves it off. He digs around in his pack for a sandwich. Feeling around with his fingers, he brushes up against the wrapper and it crinkles. He pulls the squished sandwich free from the bottom of the bag, unwraps it and takes a bite. Cora sits next to him, curled up in the crook of the bough, book splayed open in her lap.

“You hungry?”

“Not really,” she says, fully engrossed in what she’s reading.

He’s already shoving the thermos her way. “Thirsty then?”

She pushes it back. “Thanks but I just had a drink.”

He knows better than to bother her when she’s reading but he’s bored. It’s been a long time since he’s been plain old bored. He chews his sandwich with his arm draped over his knee, other leg dangling over the tree branch. Takes a sip of water and spots some movement in the sky. Abandoning the sandwich, he shuffles back to his post. Gets into position and aims his rifle, sights set on a bird circling.

“Oh, you finally see something?”

He eyes the bird as it begins to slow to a steady glide. Its burnt orange tail catches the afternoon light and sparks like a flame in the dark. He admires the beauty of it for a moment. It swoops and the moment’s gone. “Parrothawk. Good size too. We can get a lot of meat off it.”

One intake of breath and his finger is on the trigger.

It’s midday and the heat beats down on him. A bead of sweat trickles from his forehead to the end of his nose. Exhaling, he wipes the sweat away with his sleeve, turning his attention back to the parrothawk. But now that Cora’s attention is diverted from the book, he takes the opportunity to try and coax a conversation from her.

“Hey, how did spa day go with Lillian?”

“It was alright. Feels like an eternity ago now, though.”

“Just alright, huh?”

A coral bug scuttles out from behind a rock chasing after a small cutterhead, its teal tendrils flailing wildly as it chases its prey. The rest of the herd—he counts at least four of them—startle and begin running in the opposite direction, abandoning their comrade. Funny how that works. Nothing for hours and then a barrel full all at once. The parrothawk swoops and bites down on the coral bug and the lone cutterhead hurries away. Sam holds his breath. Keeps his sights on the bird’s head and pulls the trigger. It’s a direct hit. The parrothawk spirals as it hurtles to the ground. Smacking against the coral bug corpse, one of the bug’s limbs flies into the air and lands a distance away as the dust settles around the dead parrothawk.

“Nice shot,” Cora says.

He gives a curt nod of thanks. “I’m not done hearing about your day with Lillian,” he reminds her, readjusting himself and aiming for that lonesome cutterhead now grazing a few feet away. If he’s lucky, that herd will return but he doesn’t bank on it. He focuses on the one instead. Its solid blue horn and back ridges make it trickier to kill than the others. With so much protection covering its skull, he aims for the eye.

“Eh, it was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Our trip got cut short.”

There’s not a hint of disappointment with those words and maybe that’s what has him worried a little. Sure, Cora’s always been reasonable but she sounds apathetic. Sam lowers his rifle and glances at Cora over his shoulder. Sometimes he can’t believe how old she is. Makes him want to say what’s really on his mind but she’s still his little girl. Don't matter her age. He holds back his harsh words. Thinks them instead. It’s always something with Lillian. And that something is always more important than keeping her promises to Cora. It boils his blood when he spends too much energy thinking too long and too hard about it.

“Did she say why?”

Cora closes her book and tucks it away in her backpack. “It was just the usual. You know.”

He does. But it’s not much of a conversation if he’s filling in all the blanks. Slinging her backpack onto her shoulders, she begins her descent to the ground. Sam gathers up his belongings and follows. They trek toward the fallen parrothawk.

“Your cutterhead is getting away,” she says as they draw closer.

She’s right. It spots them and takes off running.

“Still think we can call it a win with what we’ve got.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They arrive at the parrothawk and he kneels. “You know, Lillian—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupts, bending over the parrothawk with a knife in hand. She works at cutting the skin away first and he joins her, taking the upper half.

“Oh yeah? Been spending time reading fortunes?”

“Ha, no. You’ll have a valid reason to defend her and I’ll still feel like shit about it.” Sam stills and drops the knife, standing and hovering next to her. “It’s okay dad, I already talked to Aja about it.”

It stings. He won’t admit aloud. But it’s good she at least talks to someone about it. Her best friend is probably a decent choice too. Barrett and Ervin’s girl has always been a great kid with an even better head on her shoulders. Hell, her advice was probably insightful and better than anything he could offer anyway. He wraps Cora up in a bear hug, squeezing the air out of her body.

“Dad!” She manages to squeak out and he presses his lips to her forehead before letting her go.

“I know I’m just your old man, but I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know,” Cora says. “Now, can we finish this up? I want to get back to my book. I was at the best part.”

“Is it one of the new ones you got.”

“Yeah!”

Why don’t you tell me about that then,” he says with a smile, returning to his knife and the task at hand.

And she does, softening again. It’s like a cool breeze amidst all the heat as they make quick work of the bird. They pack up what they can and make their way to Cora’s ship, The Hawk. He reckons it will take at least two—maybe three trips tops to get all the goods onto the ship.

About halfway through their trek, a ship lands a few hundred feet in front of them. The ground trembles under the weight of the landing platform, a swirl of dust obstructing their view. Then it clears, exposing about a dozen mercs—guessing Ecliptic by appearance—heading straight for them.

“Forget to make a payment on that loan you took out on your ship?” Sam asks, cocking his rifle.

“I paid it in full when I bought it. I think they’re after you.” Cora pulls her pistols from their holster and adjusts her backpack.

“Ask first and shoot later?”

“I think it’s shoot first, ask later.”

“Nah, I really think—”

The Ecliptic are on them and a bullet flies past Sam’s head, nearly brushing his hat. He glances over at Cora.

She smirks as she aims. “I’m always right.”

“You can gloat later,” Sam shouts as he tucks and rolls, dodging another stray bullet.

There’s a large boulder to his right and he rushes to it, skinning his knees as he slides in behind it. Cora follows his lead and scrambles, shrouding herself with the trunk of a tree. Ecliptic are more organized than spacers but still aren’t a match for the two of them. He aims and shoots. Cora does the same. The two in the front fall dead. One of the guys behind the fallen bodies trips and stumbles. Cora fires off another shot and takes him out.

“Care package!” Sam yells as he chucks a frag at the rest of the group.

Cora picks off the last two, her aim more accurate and deadly than Sam’s. The group is a pile of bodies and they exchange a congratulatory smile before coming out of their hiding places. Walking cautiously over to the dead, Sam counts the bodies. One, two—eleven.

“I thought there were twelve,” Sam says.

“Me too.”

Sam takes a glance around and spots the last guy heading east, sprinting off into the distance.

“Thanks for playing!” He shouts and gives a wave. “Bye!”

Cora lets out a small chuckle. “Think we should chase ‘em down?”

“Don’t think they’re gonna cause any trouble for us.” Sam shrugs and watches while Cora digs around in the dead merc’s pockets. She comes up with nothing.

“Lootin’ the dead ain’t glamorous but it sure is profitable.”

“Not in this case.” Cora sighs.

He waves a hand over them. “See anything on them like a slate? Might be able to find out why they came in guns a blazin.”

She continues to pat them down while Sam keeps watch.

“If there was a slate, it was probably on the runner.”

“Damn it.”

“Win some. Lose some.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Wait,” Cora says, pausing as she brushes dirt away from an insignia on the front of the suit. “I don’t think this is Ecliptic.”

Sam kneels next to her and with the adrenaline fading, he notices the differences between these mercenary suits and the usual ecliptic suits. Similar enough in style and color, it’s possible it’s still a subset of Ecliptic. But he doesn’t recognize the faction insignia at all.

“They all have this matching symbol,” Cora says. “Can you grab my camera for me from my backpack?”

Sam unzips her bag and digs around, pulling the camera free. “Got it.” He hands it over.

“Thank you.” Cora snaps a few close ups of the insignia before handing the camera back. “Maybe someone from Constellation will know what it means.”

“Maybe. We could also search their ship,” Sam suggests but as soon as he does, it begins to lift off.

“Think we missed our chance for that too.”

The ship takes off and they stare after it.

“Not our smoothest—”

“Hey, our response time was spectacular. We don’t have a single injury.” Cora lugs her backpack over her shoulders. “And we got what we came for. Smoother than a lot of our adventures.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, you’re right and any scrape you can walk away from is a good one.”

She throws him a big grin with a raised eyebrow.

“So smug. Wonder who you got that from?” He hauls his pack onto his back too and they make their first trip (of many) back to their ship.

Later, Sam kneels to the ground, eyeing the space where he and Cora killed the mercs. Someone moved the bodies, hints of where they were his only clue that they were there at all and he didn’t fabricate the whole scenario in his mind. He casts his gaze a little further and wider. The mercs were wearing heavy boots, bound to leave tracks behind. After a minute or two, he spots a patch of indented grass and the faintest of boot prints in the dirt heading east unlocking the memory of the runaway merc.

He doesn’t expect to find the runaway with the bodies gone. But on the off chance that the runaway is lingering nearby, he follows the trail as far as it goes. The sky shifts from a blanket of monochromatic hues of blue to a deep purple. The night might be gracious in offering unfiltered starlight but he doesn’t bank on it. He quickens his pace. Eventually the tracks peter out a few kilometers from where the dead bodies used to be and Sam finds higher ground in the lower bough of a tree.

With a better view, he spots the smoky remnants of a small fire and climbs back down. When he arrives at the dying embers, he bends low to the ground, fingers sprawling in search of any other clues. When he catches sight of another boot track, he stands up, ready to follow the new lead.

“Don’t move,” the cool butt of a gun is at the back of his head.

“Whoa, no need to let things escalate.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to speak, let alone make any demands.” A hand shoves at his back and Sam stumbles forward, making sure to over dramatize it by falling to his knees and hissing between his teeth.

He almost says he wasn’t making demands but pulls his dad card instead. “Please, I’m just an old man. Got a daughter to return to.”

A shot is fired. The bullet hits the patch of grass right next to Sam’s knee. The merc is serious, he can see that now but Sam’s always been good with people. Even the serious types. The serious types don’t take too kindly to his charm but they do take kindly to an old fashioned stroking of the ego. He’s always lived by the principle, that given a choice, he’d much rather talk his way out of a fight than slug it out.

“Bullshit. If she mattered so much to you, you wouldn’t have come looking for me. So from now on, I’ll do the talking.”

“You do have a way with words and a special sort of flair for survival,” Sam says and it’s enough of a praise.

His momentary captor starts monologuing. Blathers on about being left behind. Always forgotten. Which is a damn shame according to their perception of their own inflated skill sets. The rest of the speech settles in Sam’s mind as a static white noise. He focuses on digging into the dirt with his hand, remaining unnoticed. He manages to scrounge up a decent handful. Mixes a little sand in too. The merc is still throwing themselves a pity party when Sam hops to his feet and swivels, tossing the dirt straight into the merc’s eyes. A classic that hasn’t failed him yet.

“You’re dead,” the merc rages. One hand waving the gun around as they rub the dirt in with the other.

Sam rips the gun out of their hand and turns it on them. Smirks. “As a dead man, I’m the one haunting you and asking the questions now. Who do you work for?” Sam asks in a wavering spooky voice.

But there’s no words, only choking and gurgling sounds as the merc’s mouth fills with a bubbling white foam. Then they crash to the ground, dead.

“Well, shit. Hell of a place to have a seance,” he says sarcastically. “Knock once if you hear us spirits!” Sam says to himself as he pads the merc down, pressing his head close to the merc’s mouth where bubbles pop and the foam begins to dissipate. “No?” He shrugs.

Sam checks the pockets. There’s no slate on them either. But something tells him these aren’t mercs at all. Silence is better than spilling secrets, and this smells more foreboding than an unpaid debt. Worry pools in his stomach as he stands, pulling at his graying whiskers. Who exactly are they? But more importantly, what the hell do these people want with Cora?

[atonalginger]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Starfield (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Sam Coe/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character Characters: Sam Coe, Starborn!Sam Coe, Delila Aiza (Starborn), Fury Shepard (original male character), Goose (original male character) Additional Tags: major spoilers for main story of starfield, Angst, Angst and Feels, Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lust at First Sight, exploring the lives of a Starborn!Sam and Starborn!Lila, sexually explicit chapters will have warning noted at the top and an star in the chapter name, Explicit Sexual Content

I finally have an AO3 and spent the better part of a night working to get the first 8 chapters of the Starborn Saga, as well as some of my other short fics.

It's Happening

[bread0nhead]

For Your Eyes Only (18+)

Sam Coe (Starfield) X F!Spacefarer!Reader

It’s the first time you and Sam have been apart since your relationship began. So why not send some photos to remind him of what he’s missing?

“Sarah, ready to head out?” You ask as you and the other members of Constellation stand around the lodge.

“Of course.” Sarah confirms.

“Really? Sending the big boss instead of me?”

“Don’t worry Sam, I’ll be sure to bring her back in one piece.” Sarah teases and a glint in her eyes.

“We’ll be in UC territory, somewhere a Coe doesn’t exactly fit in. Besides, we’ll be back in a week. Tops.” You kiss Sam on the cheek before grabbing your things to head out.

It’s not the week apart that has Sam pouting, it’s the fact he’ll be stuck in the Lodge for a week without you. Sam hasn’t been grounded for that long in months and the stars are already calling him.

The first three days weren’t all that terrible, as he spent most of his time helping Cora with her schooling and gathering supplies. It’s by the fifth day he’s practically bashing his head against the walls.

Knowing self mutilation isn’t the scratch to the explorers itch, he picks up the boxing gloves sitting on the floor of his room and starts wailing at the punching bag. The chain holding up the bag rattle and snap with each swing. He continues long enough to get sweat creeping down his bare chest. It isn’t until a ping from his phone comes in that he takes off the gloves and rests on the steel bench next to the leather bag.

It’s a message from you, the first he’s heard from you since you left.

“Bad news, looks like this mission might take an extra couple of days. Think you can hold out just a little longer for me?”

Sam groans at the message and grabs his explorer hat to put it back on, ready to scream into it. The hat has always brought him a little comfort.

“Another few days and I might need a new punching bag at the end of this. I miss you crazy.”

There’s no response for several minutes, making Sam all the more frustrated. After ten minutes, Sam tosses his phone on the bed and picks up the weights next to him. It’s just as the cell bounces on the mattress that another chime comes in.

Sam’s happy no one is there to see how fast he rushed to his phone to open your message. And when he does, he’s even happier that he’s alone in his room. Sam lets out a breath curse under his breath as he examines the attached image.

You’re on some hotel bed, propped up with your ass in the air and the camera angle just getting the edge of your devious smile. You’re in nothing but your bra and panties with your hair down.

Damn you’re a sight to behold.

“Don’t tease me like that. Show me more of that beautiful body.”

You respond almost immediately with a new photo. One where your bra has been removed and your hand is just barely covering your nipples. Your whole face is in this one, which he finds to be the most beautiful part of the entire photo. Your cheeks are lightly dusted from blushing and your pupils are blown out. You have a flirty smile and a certain twinkle in your eyes.

Sam can feel his loose shorts getting tighter. If you’re going to tease him, he can do just the same. Sam snaps a picture of the tent growing in his shorts. Since he’s not wearing any boxers underneath, every edge and curve of his dick just peaks through in the shadow outlines. His toned stomach is also in the picture, glistening with sweat.

Sam’s a little nervous to send the photo. He’s never sent or received photos like these. Lilian wasn’t the most keen on intimacy, and before her all the girls he’s been with didn’t last long enough to even get their phone number. His heart picks up a bit as he hits send, anxiously waiting to see what you say.

“Look who’s teasing now.”

Before Sam even has a chance to respond, you send another photo. Your back is on the bed and you’re playing with one of your pert nipples. Your teeth bitting and sucking the corner of your bottom lip.

“Fuuuuuck” Sam groans, dragging a hand down his face and letting out a breathy chuckle.

His dominate hand palms his dick over his shorts as his other hand types up a response.

“Such a good girl for me”

“God I wish you were here taking good care of me”

Sam snaps another picture, this time his hand is holding his hard member. Veins, girth, hair and all are in the photo. It’s shameless, he knows. But fuck this is just so fun. He feels young and reckless again.

“The shit I would do to you right now…”

You respond to Sam’s text with the a short video of your slender fingers stroking and dipping into your folds with your fingers coming out covered in your own slick. Sam can hear your soft moans in the video and it has his eyes rolling back.

Sam can’t take this anymore, he needs to hear you. All of you. Every breathy moan and call of his name on your tongue. He hits the dial icon next to your contact in his phone and after the first ring, you answer with the cutest giggle he’s ever heard in his life.

“Well hello handsome. Miss my voice already?”

“I miss waaay more than just your sweet voice.”

Sam starts to stroke himself, feeling himself finch in his hand. He try’s to stifle the moan that’s sitting in his throat, but it comes out louder than he expected.

“What are you doing?” You ask in a teasing tone.

“You know damn well what I’m doing.”

“What do you want to be doing?”

“Ah fuck…” Sam took in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I want to taste you.” He strokes harder, thumbing the tip of his cock.

Sam can hear your gentle cries of pleasure, hear the squelching from below. It’s fucking music to his ears.

“I want to suck on your breasts until you’re panting for me. Then when you’re nice and wet, I want to devour you. Touch you in all the ways I know you like.”

“Sam” it comes out as more of a prayer than a call. He can hear how close youre getting.

“I want to fuck you so bad”

“I need you Sam”

“I know baby. I need you too.”

As your panting picks up, so does Sam’s. Neither of you speak for a couple minutes, just moaning and groaning into the phone, cursing and chanting each other’s names.

“I’m going to cum, Sam”

“Fuck, let me hear you”

Just seconds later you’re unraveling into the mic, calling out Sam’s name. This sends Sam over the edge, moving his hand faster until warmth oozes out of him and drips onto the floor. He groans loud and fulfilled while looking at your photos.

You both take a few moments to come down from the high.

“Please, hurry back to me.”

“I promise.”

[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.”

[vlassk]

Space cowboy

A/N -So i haven't actually wrote in a V long time. Im not one to finish stories but i hope i can finish this or make consistency in this.

Will i make this more adult?

Probably im a sucker for smut... But it will be in later chapters hopefully and with warning and not Plot driven. So you wouldn't NEED to read it. Anyway

-Sam Coe x Captain Reader

-She/her pronouns

-Loosely based off my own Character in StarField. By that i mean my stats and heavy choices through the game

The meeting-

"And you must be the Latest poor fool to get dragged into our dysfunctional little family"

A bearded man says to you as you walk through the doors of the Green house

"woah Dont overwelcome me now, i might never leave..." You give a small smile, shifting your weight onto one leg

"Just a friendly jab, small group like this, youll learn more about everyone than you ever wanted to. Kinda like how family is in a way"

A kid cuts him off

"Like more than you'd ever want to know Hello Kids are around People! Cora Coe by the way Hi-Hi" she steps forward a bit

"Good to meet you Cora" you smile at the kid looking back up at her assuming dad

"Nice to meet anyone brave enough to fly the frontier" she keeps going giving a mischievous smile

"Know a bit about space craft do we?" Sarah cuts in for a small word

Sam turns around quickly "Hey dont spook our new friend- Frontiers a fine ship...honest"

"Now lets talk business Sarah tell you about the expodition?" He turns back to you.

And with that small meeting your journey with sam begins although you both were quiet unaware.

Sam, Cora and you head to the ship. Cora Ooing and Ahing at the ships details and the decor you had. Even pulling some books out of your shelf to read the description.

You smiled at the image, never had a kid in your ship let alone one so interested in the things you had

"My ship my rules Sam Coe"

You turn around placing down your helmet

"Yes Ma'am im listening" Sam stops his eyes from looking at your ship and finally looks at you. Without your helmet for once. Slightly amazed by how beautiful you were considering the mission you had just got back from.

"This is your home as much as its mine. The kid gets the bed...ill figure out something for us. Oh and Its Captain to you from now on.. Im not old enough to be a 'ma'am'..." You turn back around and head to the cockpit. Sam following after you

He chuckled a bit at what you said. And sits next to you.

"Alright Captain"

Soon you arive at Akila city. The grav jumping made Sam increasingly more excited or happy. You gather your things and begin to leave the cockpit. Sam getting up to talk to Cora

You turn into the backroom. Getting changed in whatever casual clothing you had. Walking back out listening in on Cora telling Sam a joke.

" yall ready?" You chime in. Sam nods his head and pats Coras. Getting his things to leave too

"Kids not goin?" You begin to open the ships door

"No..she usually stays in the Ship. Shes got a couple more years before she gets to Swill whiskey in some backwater bar" he leans in a bit closer. You get to see just how blue his eyes really are..

A slight nod from you was all he needed. But right before The both of you got off the landing pad, he stops abruptly. You sense his movement and stop too.

"Uh...yeah?" You quietly say looking ahead for any potential reasons to stop

"There's uh something you should know upfront...im a Coe, as in Soloman Coe. First man on Akila. That story i told you about the artifact...its somewhat of a family legend" Sam goes on to explain the legend more relating it to the activity. Or lack of activity the Artifacts produce.

"Your family built Akila?" You give off slight enthusiasm

"Yeah and the Coes have been Coasting on that for 10 generations now"

Sam tells you the next location is at Galbank. And soon enough you two are walking through Akila city Gates

But a guard stops both of you. Informing a Robbery has been going on and you cant enter.

The Guard recognizes Sam and asks for his help. You quickly push pass the Guard

"Ill help"

Sam follows after a Smile appearing on his Face.

As you approach the crowd you see the Marshal. Hearing the intercom calling Him out and threatening the hostages.

You hear the Robbers say they wont give demands unless theres someone they could trust.

"Like who" the Marshall fold his arms

"Not you, not your rangers or the city guards" the rober replies.

You walk up to him. Still not used to this atmosphere.

Before you could say anything the Marshall tells you to stand back.

"Sir i could help-"

"I dont know you so please stand back"

Before tou could get frustrated Sam steps in

"Akila City at its finest i see. No dull moment"

The Marshall looks at him a surprised relieved expression appeared.

"Well ill be damned Sam Coe. Been a long time?"

They talk for a minute at most and with one demand Sam manages to convince the Marshall to let you help. The Marshall gives you the Run down and lets you go.

"Take it slow and steady take all the Steps to De-esculate the situation" you nod in agreement and walk to the door. The Marshal telling the robers that youre being sent in.

As you go up to the door and press the intercom you hear the rober. Sounding afraid and frantic. After a short time you managed to calm them down. After a few more minutes you managed to make them back down and let themselves be taken into custody. You get up to walk away. Your hand on your temple of your head.

The Marshall looking a bit afraid of your answer.

"How did it go?" He says stepping forward.

" well... now please go send your people in to arrest them" you take a long breath of air relaxing yourself.

"Youd make a decent ranger with the way you handled that" sam smiles sitting down near by

"Yeah that was...something" you sit down with him waiting to go inside.

"Sooo.... This your home?" You awkwardly reposition yourself

"Yeah good Ol' Akila city... I hope to avoid my home though" sam leans back getting more comportable.

You stare at him. Noting all his features to yourself. He wasn't a bad looking man. He was actually very handsome.

" do you always stair like that...or am i too charming?" Sam smiles Messing with his beard a bit while leaning forward to you.

You scrunch your nose a bit and turn to face the Bank

"Well look like its back to functioning...lets go!" You get up and start walking over. Sam laughing a bit to himself and following after.

Your trip to the bank ended as soon as you opened the locker. The map was gone and Sam knew exactly where it was

"Oh no Jacob of course that old mule saw us coming"

" sounds like we need to talk to him huh.."

"That We do... Was really hoping to avoid the estate though. Probably caught wind of it on our arrival once we landed. coras ganna be so mad. " he looks off disappointed

"Sam level with me here..whos Jacod"

"We really gatta do this?"

"We are going anyway I'm bound to find out"

"You're not wrong" Sam looks down. Thinking for a second.

"We cant work together if you don't trust me" You lean back on one of the lockers cocking your head to the side to try and see his face.

"I know- its just its Personal" he looks up finally.

You give him a sincere look.

"Fine hes my dad okay we arent exactly on friendly terms. He probably knew i was coming for the maps. Family business is just something i didnt want to get into ya know"

You can tell it took a lot out of him. Way more than he even knew.

"Thanks for opening up to me sam" You smile and push yourself off the locker.

"Yeah well sorry I'm such a pain about it. No forgiveness between me and my old man..its uh Coe tradition"

"all right...shall we" Sam turns to head out. You following after.

You both quietly walk through the Streets of Akila city. Going up some stairs as Sam tells you small stories of when he was a boy. Or stories of his fathers ways.

Saying what paths he took as a child to get home or hide out.

You just smile and nod. Not wanting to accidentally cut him off from his ramblings, you found it cute, wholesome that this ruggid space cowboy had such a love for old memories.

You two finally made it to the house.

Sam holds the door open for you. Whispering "the old Coe estate" as you walk in. Sam following after. He steps foward and to what you assume to be his Father. You stand back as they begind their long awaited conversation

"Well well... Sam Coe finally decides to darken our doorstep again." His dad crosses his arm

"You know why im here" sam says in a neutral tone.

"Oh? And Whats that? You come to your senses? Realize where you ought to be for once?" Jacob Coe steps forword

"I ain't askin again" sam keeping his composure.

"You aint ask once? Lets here it! i want you to say the words about whats most important to you than family!" Jacob begins to point at Sam angerly crossing his arms when hes done.

"Okay... this was a mistake" Sam is obviously done, annoyed already with his Father.

"The only Mistake im seeing here is you.. Bringing your Constellation lackey here..instead of my granddaughter" Jacob gets annoyed too. Looking and pointing at you

" come to help Sam loot his Ancestory? You're not getting those maps. Full Stop" he calls you out personally. Turning to face you and not sam

"-I got just as much right to those maps as anyone else in the Family" sam cuts in. Getting in between his Father and you. You step back to create more needed space from this family's drama.

"That's exactly right Sam.. we all share Solomons legacy. Only some of us are around to live up to it. And some of us arent"

"All right. Thats enough. Come on. Lets you and i talk, in private" sam looks at you. Raising his hand to show you a way

"-hmph. Welcome home sam. Make your visit short okay? Its what you do best" You could hear what Jacob said as he walked to another location of the house .

You look at sam, wondering what he needed.

"Give me a sec..." He takes a long deep breath

"All right lets talk options"

You think for a second. Shifting your weight to one leg and looking around

"I could always speak to Jacob? He might see reason?" You shrug your shoulders with the idea. Didnt seem like a bad one considering all.

"You're flying in the face of my Thirty plus Years of experience with the man. But all right. Hope you like arguing"

A smile on your face appears as you walk over to Jacob. Sam watches you from the Distance. Watching your interaction with his father made him feel away no other has. He wasnt worried, or annoyed. And somehow of all people someone finally got to his dad.

A smile krept up on his face as he watched you two talk, he hadnt realized he was staring at all. Until you started to walk over. He quickly turned around to look at a random photo and back up to you.

"How'd it go?"

"I got the map. Lets go get it!' You smile as you grab his arm and begin walking to a room Jacob had said it was in.

Before Sam could even respond the maps where in his hands

"I can't believe you convinced him. Good job Captain" he tiped his hat to you. You blush at the gesture and tip a fake hat to him

"You too Sam. We wouldn't be here without your connections ya know" you wink and read along side him.

"Alright lets see if we can find the empty nest" sam sits down on a chair.

"Alri let me think... The way i heard it. The readings he was getting were normal at first, then they bottomed out.' And no creature, alien or otherwise, would dare step inside' there found it... Oh boy... Thats a problem" he lets out another deep sigh

"Whatever it is we can handle it"

"Well, you aint wrong. But lets take a look at what we're up against" sam stands up with you.

"First its in The middle of the frontier. Which we already expected. No problems there but the usual tusslin with alien life. But the empty nest is in a cave right in the middle of Shaw Gang territory. Same outlaws who held up Galbank"

"Bring outlaws to justice sounds like fine work to me..no?"

"Well just remember its about the Artifact not them. Hurting bad guys puts a smile on your face, Thats A bonus lets get to that cave"

You both travel to the cave. Beating up bad guys when you need. Traveling down to the depths and arriving at the artifact.

"This place looks awesome" sam messes with some of the floating rocke around it.

You pull out your Cutter and cut into the rock exposing the artifacts surface. You reach your hand out to touch the thing. Your vision going into wonders as you feel your mind expand. Sam looks at the frozen you. Getting worried and rushing to your body. Eyes wide open looking up as your hand is stuck on the Artifact. Finally you wake up. Falling back into sams arms as he catches you and lays you down.

You shake your head a bit and look down at the artifact in your hand.

"Won't lie. My heart stopped for a beat when you passed out. Glad you're still with us" sam lifts you off the ground as you Steady your own feet.

"Haha..find anything interesting while i was gone?" You shake off the dirt on yourself

"Nothing too special but found this" sam hands you some rock. You smile and put it into your bag along with The Artifact

"Thank ya sam. Ill Treasure it forever" You get ready to go back to the surface. Not knowing how Sam felt at the one thing you said. The smile on his face didnt leave till you guys got out the cave.

As you both were walking up you begin to wonder things.

"Mind if i ask you a personal question?" You climb the dusty stairs.

" depends on the question captain..shoot"

"What do you think on exploration?"

"There's so many planets, Moons, celestial phenomena out there...most captains just sail through the Great Black. Not really looking...appreciating. A lot of the time touching down on a virgin planet can be ...uneventful. But.... Every now and then you see something no human gas ever laid eyes on - that is what i live for"

" how interesting.. I like hearing your ways of thinking, you yourself are interesting sam." You turn back and shoot sam another Smile. Always showing him how happy you are to learn more about him.

"Tell me more about cora" you love hearing about him..for some reason this cowboy is so interesting to you.

As he talks to you about her schooling. How weirdly smart she is and how shes just getting started. He talks about his actions and what hes seen or done across the universe and finally what he plans to do with life. You loved every second of the conversation even telling him your plans and what you did before the job.

You get up to the surface and head into the ship. Cora greets you, Reading some of your books.

"Heading back to the lodge!" You get ready for takeoff.

Heading into the lodge you put the artifact down. Having a small conversation with everyone about the meaning and how amazing everything is.

"Well i think Cora and I need some downtime. But you let me know when you want to team up again" sam leans on the railing smiling up at you as you lean down too.

"Oh and since it tends to come up.. Me and my rugrat co-pilot work as a team. Thats non-negotiable. If im coming with. That means Coras on your ship"

"Oh? I was just planning on having Cora. I mean shes super helpful!" You bump your arm into Sams. He gives you a big laugh

"Actually...i wouldnt mind if we all kept traveling together..." You look down watching cora interact with the rest of the team.

"Huh..why not?"

"What do you think cora?" Sam yells a bit at cora

"Want to keep traveling with the Captain here"

" its really nice to have more company. New Stories, new data-" cora goes on but gets cut off

"What? Data? Haha, all right we're in. Lets see what the galaxy throws at us next" sam laughs more sitting up. You take a second to stand continuing to watch the people below. Sam takes this second to watch you. Noticing your build. Watching what exact pose you're in. He wouldn't deny you are attractive and the suit you always wore even inside and on habital planets didnt show you off.

As you begin to get up sam quickly turns away. You notice this

" uh...you okay?" You turn to him concerned and why he turned away so fast

"Yeeup all good" sam looks away sheepishly you not understanding that he was checking you out.

"Well i heard i had a room here...im so excited to get decorating. Make this place feel like home"

Sam nods wondering where you're going with this

"Do you have a room here?" You ask wondering what it might look like.

'I do.. Coras is in the basement. She says she likes to not hear what adults talk about.."

"Oh can i see? Id like to see how you decorate. Plus living life on a 2 person Ship isnt really ideal for most decor centered things. The lodge ia huge id like to buy some stuff too" you look around admiring the practical mansion you're in.

"Uh okay? Its this way" sam raises an eyebrow but still leads you the way to his room. You notice the posters and punching bag. Loving all the stuff hes gathered over his time.

"Is this an old baseball?" You ask sitting on his bed.

"Yeah, got it a while back from a trade was going to be Coras" Sam watches as you look around his Room. Awkwardly waiting for your next move, noting just how confident you are to just walk into a mans room.

"Youre something special arent you?" Sam chuckles a bit watching you lay back in his bed.

"Huh? Why do you say that?" You look up getting more comfortable in the bed.

"Well... First you're in my bed after wanting to look at my decor, thats something special" sam laughs again putting more things he found on the shelfs he has making sure hes turned away from you.

"Yeah well you look like an interesting person. Thought your room would be interesting too" you laugh a bit and sit up.

"Was i wrong?" You turn to look at Sam who now is looking at you.

" I guess not. Didnt think my room was so 'interesting' to you. I mean ive got no problem with you here im just a bit confused" Sam crosses his arms confused.

"I have my own room sure but. Honestly after being in here. This room is more comforting. Its so you? Its nice" you stand up shooting the cowboy a smile.

"You've got good taste cowboy" you start to walk out of the room. Sam watches you

"Ive never even seen a Cow and im not a boy..." Sam chuckles to himself before following you of of his room and into the direction of your room.

" you may not have seen the Cow but you definitely have the qualities..." You turn around to flick his hat and you give him a small wink and smile.

Sam is smiles rolling his eyes as a joke.

"Captain are you flirting with me?" Sam laughs a bit walking past you.

" no" you speed up, passing Sam up

"Unless you wanted me to?" With that you bolt down the hall way running into your room.

Sam smiles laughing to himself, tipping his hat down.

"What a weird woman" he walks to follow after you.

[fangbangerghoul]

Header originally made by @thatsgoodsquishy0

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

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

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

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

You must be over 21

You must love or at least appreciate Starfield

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

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

banner made by @bearlytolerant

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

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

@atonalginger's

Anton x Sam Astral Haze

@thatsgoodsquishy0's

From Death; A Life

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

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

@fangbangerghoul's

Crimson Slut

@bearlytolerant's

Paint It Crimson

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

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

@silurisanguine's

So coy

@eridanidreams's

Twisted Towards the Light

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

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