#chris beck fanfiction

[navybrat817]

Midnight Kiss

Pairing: Chris Beck x Female Reader Summary: Chris made a promise to kiss you at midnight and he intends to keep it. Word Count: Almost 1.4k Warnings: Fluff, light angst, established relationship, Chris Beck (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Last fic for the year and @ysmmsy. suggested something for our sweet space husband! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You gazed up at the stars and ignored the chill in the air as you wondered why you bothered going to the small party tonight. You knew why, of course. Your friends didn't want you to miss out on a good time and you didn't want to disappoint them by bailing. It didn't help though that everyone inside had paired off, leaving you as the odd one out. Watching everyone kiss at midnight wasn't exactly your idea of fun.

Which was how you found yourself standing outside in the cold, staring up at the sky as if it could make your boyfriend show up.

When you wish upon a star.

You started dating Chris Beck less than a year ago and he was, without a doubt, the best boyfriend you ever had. A brilliant man with a soft heart, and the sweatshirts to match, he provided you with love and many happy memories in such a short time. Reality, however, seeped through the honeymoon phase and reminded you that both of you had obligations. He had an impressive career as an astronaut and a surgeon long before you came into the picture.

You’d always be proud of him.

Chris didn't believe you when you told him you never had a New Year's kiss. You laughed and told him your date the year before passed out by the toilet long before the countdown began. The years before that didn't fare any better. It didn't seem like a big deal.

Until this year.

"I'll be your first midnight kiss."

He had every intention of going with you tonight and swore he'd give you the best kiss at midnight. He even had a button down shirt picked out to match your strapless blue dress until he got called in. Giving you a sorry look, he swore he'd make it up to you, even when you said he didn't have to. Though he currently wasn't in orbit, he still had an important job to do on the ground. You wouldn't dare hold that against him.

It didn't mean you weren't a little sad.

"You promised me a kiss," you whispered into the night, snuggling deeper into the warm sweatshirt you took from his closet earlier. He’d be upset if you went out into the cold without anything covering your arms. "But that's okay."

You didn't move or turn around when the door opened behind you, the sound of laughter and chatter briefly filling the air before the door shut. You kept quiet, not wanting to be a downer or to be asked why you were out there by yourself. The familiar presence at your back brought comfort, even though you weren't seeking it out. Before you knew it, a smile touched your lips when the gentle scent of cedar and citrus filled your nostrils.

The same cologne Chris opened just a few days before when you exchanged gifts.

"What's a nice girl like you doing out here all alone on New Year's Eve?" he asked, gently gripping your elbow to turn you around.

He's here. He showed up. He kept his promise.

The twinkling lights around the door provided enough light to see the blue of his eyes as you faced him. Tears sprang to your own unexpectedly when he brushed his warm fingers along your cheek. He used his hands to heal others and now his touch closed the wound of loneliness that had opened inside you.

"My boyfriend is working tonight," you told him, your voice thick as you played along and blinked away some of the moisture in your eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?"

His thumb moved up to catch a stray tear, his smile apologetic and gentle. "I may have seen him around before. Over six feet tall with blue eyes and short, dark brown hair? It looks about as soft as the sweatshirt you're wearing. I'm guessing it's his."

"It is," you smiled, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. He was right about it being soft. "I think it goes well with my dress."

He hummed in appreciation as he took a step back to admire you, taking a bit of the warmth with him. "It does," he said before he wrapped an arm around your lower back to pull you close again. "It looks really good on you."

You could have picked a paper bag to wear tonight and Chris would have found a way to compliment you in it. The first time you woke up beside him, no makeup on and still half asleep, he whispered how beautiful you were to him. Just like he did when he made love to you.

"My boyfriend thinks it looks good on me, too," you teased.

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about your boyfriend," he said as he raised an eyebrow. "Handsome guy, isn't he? Nice smile? Some may even call him a sexy nerd."

Oh, my humble man.

"All of those things. Very handsome, nice smile, a sexy nerd. He's so smart. One of the most brilliant men I know," you smiled, taking pride in bringing a slight pink hue to his cheeks at the compliment. "Did you know he graduated from Yale? And he worked for NASA. Flight surgeon. Completed five spacewalks."

"Did he give you his resume on your first date?" he joked, bringing his other arm around your waist.

You giggled when you brought your hands up to his shoulders, starting to sway even though there was no music. "No, he was a perfect gentleman. He waited until our second date."

The laugh Chris let out spread warmth through your chest all the way down to your toes. "Sounds like a real winner, even if he did have to work tonight."

Your smile slipped as he cupped your cheek again, refusing to let you look down or away. "Work is important and this is just a party, so he's still a winner."

He shook his head when you nuzzled your cheek against his palm. "It isn't just a party. I heard through the grapevine that he owes you a kiss at midnight. He intends to keep that promise."

It meant everything to you that he showed up, but you couldn't help the guilt you felt. Did he rush through work to get to you? Beg someone to cover for him? No matter what he did, it showed just how special you were to him.

You're just as special to me.

"I appreciate that," you said, watching the lights shine in his eyes again. "I appreciate him so much."

"Ten!" your friends shouted inside, their voices loud enough to be heard through the glass.

"He appreciates you. His beautiful, special star," Chris smiled as your cheeks got hot. "And he couldn't imagine any other way to bring in the new year."

"Nine!"

You couldn't imagine it any other way either.

"Eight!"

Chris brought his other hand up, holding your face with such infinite tenderness as you stopped swaying.

"Seven!"

"I'm glad you made it, Chris," you smiled.

"Six!"

"I'm glad I did, too," he smiled back.

"Five!"

"Thank you," you said, leaning in closer.

"Four!"

The tip of his nose brushed against yours, both of you anticipating what was to come.

"Three!"

"I love you," he whispered between your lips.

"Two!"

Your heart raced as you closed your eyes. "I love you, too, Chris."

"One!"

You weren't sure if fireworks went off in the distance or if you heard them in your mind, but your mouths met in a kiss that left you breathless. A shudder wracked your body as his hands moved from your face down to your hips. You willed yourself to stay upright when he licked into your mouth, moving his tongue against your with expert precision. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world to do so.

A perfect kiss with a perfect man.

"Can I confess something?" he asked.

You were happy that he sounded as affected as you felt. "Yeah."

He brought his mouth close again, whispering the words just for the two of you to hear. "That was my first midnight kiss, too."

You smiled as you pressed another kiss to his lips, thanking the stars above for gifting you with his wonderful man.

"Happy New Year, Chris."

It was going to be the best year yet.

I can't wait to share more next year with you lovelies. 💙 Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Misc. Sebastian Stan Characters ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #chris beck x reader #chris beck x female reader #chris beck x you #chris beck x y/n #chris beck #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck imagine #chris beck au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2022, Day 1: Ablutophilia

She’s Not Ready

Summary: you knew you shouldn’t came to this frat party

Pairings:  Chris Beck X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit sexual content, explicit language, implied drugging, smut, PIV smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, degradation, voyeurism, misogynistic views, fraternity brotherhood, implied abuse of power, dubcon, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Ablutophilia is paraphilia involving sexual excitement from baths or showers.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

You stumble into a bathroom, away from the party raging downstairs. Your head pounding with the bass, and you needed a moment. Just needed a break from the throng of people. Greek life wasn’t for you. And you hated that you ended up at this stupid frat party.

They were all the same; perfectly coiffed, intelligent, savvy, loved by everyone, but you could see right through all of them. They weren’t fooling you, and still you found yourself here. Right in the midst of their celebration. Gearing up for their secret induction with the alumni.

You slam your cup down, admiring the simple red color of it, before looking at yourself in the mirror. Getting closer when you see your reflection fade in and out of focus, and want to curse yourself for making you so vulnerable. You should have known to stay away from here. Your friend dragged you along, and you couldn’t say no. You had so many questions left to answer.

You turn your back to the mirror, sinking to the floor. Throwing your head back on the vanity, as you check the door. You had forgot to lock it. Great.

Standing up to go lock it, you’re met face to face with someone. His kind face and sweet smile, makes you relax a bit. “Sorry, I, uh…” his voice stammers, and you feel more at ease. “I thought it was empty.”

He stands there bashfully looking at you, “Is everything okay?”

“Are you one of them?”

“Them?” he questions, looking between you and the shower. You finally notice his shirt was soaked, and he reeked of stale beer.

“Them. The…brothers.”

“Not quite. I did get beer spilt on me from one of the brothers. Don’t think that makes me one of ‘them’ though. You gotta problem with them?” you shrug, walking back to your resting place.

“They have a problem with me.”

“Can’t relate. But I don’t make it a habit of going somewhere that I’m not wanted,” pulling at the bottom of his shirt, he lifts it off his body, and you see the hard lines of his muscles. Kicking his shoes off, and he goes to undo his jeans.

“What are you doing?”

“I stink. I need a shower,” you gawk at him. Unsure why he’s so comfortable with his decision, and then your head tilts forward. And you have to blink away the sleep that is capturing you. “You okay? I’m not the only one that needs a shower. You wanna save water, and do it together.”

“Okay,” slips out of your mouth. Word vomit of the worst kind. See an attractive man, and you blurt out whatever comes to mind. That should have been left in your throat.

He smirks, sliding down his jeans, left only with his boxer briefs when he turns on the water. Clearly, he had turned it all the way up, because steam permeates the bathroom quickly. Your hazy brain already in a tailspin, and then he reaches a hand down to you. You grab it quickly, and he slams you against his chest.

Your eyes roll up to meet his, and you press your hand against his hard chest. Your thumb circles over his pec, and he grabs up your hand, “Are you okay?”

“Just…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

A hand runs down your side, and you bite your lip trying not to make a sound. The steam circling around the two of you, creating an intoxicating mist, and the shower isn’t the only thing that’s wet.

“Lets get you undressed. Can’t shower, with clothes on, huh, Moonbeam.”

Slow ministrations softly pull off your dress. Letting gravity make it melt into the floor, while you’re the one sinking closer to him. You give him your name, and he smirks, leaning forward to give open mouth kisses to your neck, “Chris Beck,” he moans, giving your neck a hard bite, and you let him overtake your body.

Losing almost all control of your legs when he starts backing the two of you in the shower. And when he drifts back to look at your face, you gulp. All inhibitions out the window as you slot your lips against his, and he stumbles back into the shower. Letting you capture his pretty moans, as he rustles to take his briefs off.

His hands roam through your folds, before he’s lifting you up, settling you on his cock, and you slide right down to the root. Your eyes pouting up at him, as you try to adjust to his girth. His tip whispering up against your cervix, and you forget all reservations of being here with them. All that matters is Chris Beck and his glorious cock.

His hand circles around your neck, and he gives you a devilish grin, “You knew better.”

Your brain doesn’t even register his words. If it did you would remember the hours of research into this frat. Coming here with your friend for even more research, and now, you’ve been captured.

“Sweet little Moonbeam, I haven’t even fucked into you. Did you like your special punch? He told me it would work. Always does. You’re too set on making us happy. You’ll get your chance, don’t worry.”

“Wh-wh-what?” your able to squeak out, but thoughts are erased along with your reservations when his hips pull back, and slam back in just as hard.

His arms wrap around your back, and he just starts lifting you on his cock, using your body to fuck him. “You’re all the same. Dumb little fleshlights. Ready to be used. And we will. Them? You’re apart of it now.”

His voice sinister, but his motions so sure. Shoving you deep over him, and you’re thankful for the water. Thankful that it can wipe away all your sins and discretions down the drain. Head lolling back and only barely focusing on the faded and looming shadows beyond the shower. Their smiles twisted up at the sick game that they all play. They’ll all get you.

You were the one they wanted the most. Spreading your lies and hatred for their elite group around the campus. Too bad you didn’t realize the one you went to is the reason the hunt included you.

“Once you’re broken, you’ll become my perfect little housewife. But don’t worry,” Beck stutters when he feels your walls flutter around him. “Oh, she’s a quick one. We’ll have us a good life. Too bad you won’t remember this one.”

He thrusts himself up into your cunt, and you whine at the added warmth from his hot cum. Shivering when the shower curtain is ripped open, but Beck presses your head against his chest. “Well, that was riveting. How long do you want just her until she’s officially inducted?”

He gives a shrug, “Eh, maybe a few more solo times. She is a pretty little thing. For how paranoid she was, you’d think she’d have her guard up.”

Beck’s professor steps forward, and lifts your head up, “I told you. They need us. We’re doing them a favor. She’ll be thankful that it was you and not someone who would fuck and leave. Moonbeam?” Beck gives him a nod, “Well, you’ve got a long way to go. And you haven’t met the other dumb bunnies. You will. Beck, get yourself dressed or in the basement. She’s not ready.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @infatuatedjanes @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @sstan-hoe @whimsyplaty92 @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @thedarkplume @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sgtjaamesbaarnes @missusbarnes-rogers @km-ffluv @mickeyhenrys @awkwardgiraffe726​

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #Ablutophilia #chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck x fem!reader #chris beck x you #chris beck x y/n #chris beck fic #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck smut #sebastian stan

[chrisdrysdale]

day 23 oral with chris beck (543 words)

+18s only

kinktober masterlist

‘’Plleeeaasseeeeeee’’ you whined, gently tugging on his arm. ‘’No baby we don’t have time’’ he softly chuckled back. You and your boyfriend were just about to go up to space on another mission to mars. This sounds like a good thing, but in reality it’s not. You both work in different stations on the ship, meaning you never see each other.

This was your own chance to have him. You were in the waiting room, waiting to be examined medically before you go up. You were all alone, and the doctor should be another 15 mins. You kissed his neck again. ‘’We do have time, you’ve felt my mouth’’ Chris didn’t think it was the best idea but fuck did he want it. He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Fine, but you have 15 minutes’’ you squealed and kissed him passionately, before slowly sinking to the floor. You palmed him through his white trousers causing him to groan softly, before you licked up the front of his trousers. ‘’Knew you wanted this’’ you quietly giggled as you began to undo his trousers and pull them down his thighs. ‘’Yeah yeah, just shut up an suck my cock’’ he laughed before moaning softly as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock. You angled his cock towards your mouth and gently sucked on the tip. ‘’Fuck there you go baby’’ he praised you as you took his cock further down your throat. You began to slowly bob your head up and down, keeping your lips tight around him. You watched as he looked over at the clock. ‘’12 minutes baby’’ 

Your pace increased each time he told you how long you had left. Eventually Chris started to get worried about how long you were taking, so he took matters into his own hands. He held the back of your head and began to bob your head exactly how he liked it. ‘’Silly little girl, couldn’t even suck my cock right’’. You moaned around him, tears prickling at your eyes as he hit the back of your throat. ‘’That’s it good girl, gonna fill that throat up with my cum’’ he lets out a loud groan before hot ropes of cum begin to fill your throat. He gently pulled your head off and you rested against his thigh, giggling. Chris panted before helping you onto his lap. ‘’4 minutes to spare. You’ve met my mouth, you know I can do it’’ you nodded giving him the go ahead. He laid you across the couch in the waiting room, tugging your pants down along with your panties before diving in quickly, not giving you a second to think. ‘’Oh fuck yes baby!!!!!’’ You grabbed onto his hair and rocked your hips in time with his mouth. He began to fuck you with his tongue, his nose nudging at your clit. Soon enough you were coming all over his face with a loud moan. Chris helped you back up and fixed your trousers. You both looked at the clock and you teared up. He opened his arms and brought you into them. ‘’2 minutes baby… i’m all yours’’ 

tags: @bubblessunshinehoney@navybrat817@christywantspizza@buckyalpine@iloveprettyboysblog@ethreal-love@captainsimagines@buckybarnesandmarvel@rogersandlightwood@sparkledfirecracker@barneswinterraven@hansensgirl@blades-and-heartbreak@runa-falls

#chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck fanfic #chris beck x you #the martian #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #clo&bellaskinktober #cloudy&bella kinktober

[bubblessunshinehoney]

day 23- Oral sex with Chris Beck

305 words

18+only! NO MINOR INTERACTIONS

kinktober masterlist

A/N: don't why but I clearly think he's like a beginners with sex.

Know this character by name, never been able to watch the movie (space scares me)... Any waaaay, hope you enjoy!

Cloudy

Don't be shy to comment, reblog or like! :)

TW: oral sex (reader receving), Dom!reader, mention of porrrrnnnn. Smut. PWP

not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own

“YOU NEVER WENT DOWN ON A GIRL?”

Chris quickly covers your mouth with his hand. “Shhhhhh, and no, never had the opportunity”.

You pout “Oh, little Beck.” He squints and pushes you against the wall.

“Come on, don’t be a brat… I want to learn. Please teach me…ma’am”

You smirk. He learns his first lesson. “Okay, pretty boy. Show me you tongue.” He sticks his tongue out and you lick it, making him moan. “Now on your knees, my sweet boy.” He nods and gets on his knees. “Undress my lower part”. He does so and he looks at your bare pussy. “Now you must kiss and find my clitoris. Do you know what the clitoris is?”

He huffs “I’m might not have eaten a girl out, but I have fingers so yes, I already found some clit in my life.” He kisses your mound and flicks his tongue.

“And you must have look at some instructive videos.” He blushes and nods. “Don’t do like them. It’s all fake. But the flick of a tongue is a good trick. Go on, find my clit.” He focuses and kiss, flicks and sucks on your mound until…you moan and tugs on his hair. He smiles against you and focus on your clit, making you clench around nothing.

“you can go lower, between my folds, pushes your tongue inside me and then back up my clit…”. He does so and moans at your taste, holding your ass and massaging it. “Fuck good boy.” That praise makes him go faster, harder, putting his all heart into it, until you cum on his face, screaming his name.

He kisses up your body after helping you through your orgasm and you kiss him hard. “You need any other lesson?”

He shrugs, ”I could learn everything again with you…if you want me.”

taglist : @navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine @iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy @captainsimagines @buckybarnesandmarvel @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls @chrisdrysdale

#kinktober #cloudy&bellaskinktober #kinktober22 #kinktober 2022 #chris beck #the martian #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fandom #chris beck smut #chris beck x you #chris beck x reader #chris beck x dom!reader #chris beck fanfiction

[sgt-seabass]

Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?

𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions 🥺🥺💙 this was meant to be short whoops.

Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.

After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.

Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.

When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.

Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.

His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.

The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.

Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.

By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.

“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.

“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.

This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.

In his bed.

Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.

Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”

“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”

“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”

Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.

“I need…” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”

“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.

He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.

Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.

He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.

The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.

Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.

“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”

Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.

You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”

Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”

His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”

The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.

“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.

“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.

It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.

You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.

Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.

It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.

Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.

“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”

He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.

Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.

Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll… I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”

You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.

In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.

“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.

Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”

“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.

“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.

There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.

“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”

“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”

Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.

Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.

Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.

Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, omega.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambs answers #cherished anons #ambswrites #clockwork au #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #chris beck #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #nick fowler fanfiction #dark fic

[buckybarnessunflower]

L i q u i d L u c k

Summary: Bucky has had a series of bad dates. A stranger gifts him something called liquid luck to help him, he's unsure if he'll ever use it but then he sees you and his mind is made up. Bucky finally gets lucky with you in a bathroom.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X reader , Dark!Bucky, mention of Chris Beck X reader

Rating: 18+ (Dubcon, smut, sexual assault heavily implied)

Word Count: 3549

Warnings: Reader cheats on her boyfriend Chris Beck, Bucky spikes readers drink. Smut ensues. Lloyd Hansen makes a brief appearance. Talk of sexual assault. Dubcon no aftercare.

A/N: I posted this last night but I forgot to list some of the warnings. I deleted it and am now posting an updated warning. Thank you for the anon that brought it to my attention. I do apologize for anyone who may have accidently read it last night when I had not posted the accurate warnings. That was not my intention

Bucky breathed in and out through his nose, allowing the smell of alcohol from the bar he was in to help put him at ease. The bar he was in wasn’t overly crowded like most bars in New York on a Saturday night. The talk and laughter from the other patrons distracted him somewhat from his own self deprecating thoughts.

He was beyond frustrated that another date had gone terribly wrong.

Dating today was N O T like dating was back in the 1940s.

He knew he wasn’t the same man he was back then.

He knew he had lost his charm and his dazzling smile that used to get women weak in the knees.

He knew that while most men wore chains around their necks or nice watches around their wrist that he was forced to have a metal arm. 

Bucky rubbed his flesh hand down his face and sighed before he took another large gulp of the amber liqueur in his glass. He couldn’t get drunk but the feel of the liqueur going down his throat, leaving behind a slight burn as it made its way down felt nice.

It made him feel more human and less like the brainwashed assassin Hydra forced him to be all those years ago.

The sound of a chuckle beside him made Bucky glance up, the man was muscular in build with light brown hair that was shaved on the sides and a thick mustache.

“Woman troubles huh?” He asked, turning on his bar stool to look directly at Bucky.

Bucky gave a slight nod to his head in acknowledgment before turning back around to take another swig from his glass, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk about his troubles to a stranger that couldn’t even begin to relate.

“Name’s Lloyd” the man said, holding out his hand for Bucky to shake.

“Bucky,” he said, shaking Lloyd’s hand.

The grin on Lloyd’s face grew, “Oh I know who you are” he said and could tell Bucky’s body stiffened, unsure as to what Lloyd’s intentions were. Vibranium hand gleaming as he tightened it into a fist, ready to fight if necessary.

“Calm down big guy, I just noticed it seemed like you were down and out, I figured it had to be over a girl. Women now-a-days like to play hard to get, what with all of this women have rights bullshit they think they’re above us. They think they can lead us on during dates, wearing as little as possible, hell even sometimes taking us back to their apartments then BAM they don’t want to fuck. It’s sickening really and I hate to see another man hurt because a woman simply hasn’t learned her place yet”. Lloyd said, moving his chair closer to Bucky’s.

Bucky refused to fully look at Lloyd, not knowing if it was a trap or not so he chose to stay silent. He didn’t need his publicist breathing down his neck because he said the wrong thing to someone.

“That’s why I’m giving you this” He continued while taking a vial of something off of his necklace to hand to him.

Bucky stared at his outstretched hand in his peripheral vision, frozen in his place- unsure if he should take it or not.

“Think of it as liquid luck. You put a drop in a woman’s drink and her body begins to crave you. Even if she’s interested in you or not. She’ll walk out of a bar with you, smile on her face and her cunt dripping with the need to be filled. You take her home, do what you want and leave. She’ll forget it ever happened.” Lloyd grinned, now dangling the vial in front of Bucky’s face.

Bucky watched as it swung back and forth, it was tempting, so tempting. 

Part of the reason why he was so upset about tonight was because he wanted NO needed to fuck. He wanted to feel the warm silky smoothness of a woman’s cunt wrapped around his cock. It had been too long since he last had sex, he had gotten a little rough with the last girl and she had blasted him online. A picture of bruises and bites littering her skin didn’t fare well with the public’s already shitty opinion of him and any potential sexcapeds ended before they could begin after hearing how other women could barely walk after sleeping with the ex-assassin. 

He had been hopeful about the woman tonight, had wined and dined her how he would a woman back in the 40’s but she went on and on about her ex boyfriend. She had even started to cry in the middle of the date, accusing eyes turned to him. Expecting The Winter Soldier to have done something terrible to the woman. “I’ve got to go” she had said before abruptly leaving, chair turned over in her haste to get out of the restaurant. Bucky had been left to pay the tab, food half-eaten and his cock still semi-hard where he had been expecting to get lucky.

Bucky grabbed the vial, milky white substance reflecting the fluorescent lighting from up above.

“I knew you would take it,” Lloyd said, hand clasped firmly on Bucky’s shoulder.

—----------------------------------------------------

Bucky laid in his bed back at the compound staring at the vial.

Was he really going to use it?

Had he really become that desperate that he needed “liquid luck” to help him get his dick wet?

The sound of the porno he had open in the background broke him from his train of thought.

He couldn’t take any more nights like this. 

He couldn’t handle the sounds of the fake moans and orgasms from the pornos.

He didn’t care what Tony said. No matter what tags he clicked on, none of them could fulfill his desires like having an actual woman underneath him.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Bucky pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke. His lips turned up in a smirk as he glanced down at his drink and then back up to the dance floor, watching as the “liquid luck” took effect.

He had been watching you from afar for most of the night.

You had come in shortly after he had arrived. You and your friends had run over to the bar, giggling as you stumbled over each other's stiletto heels in a race to get to the bar first. You had been pushed into Bucky, a contagious smile on your face as you turned to him to apologize when he helped steady you.

The warmth of his hand had felt too good to go unnoticed. Bucky had noticed how you had leaned closer into his touch. Your friends didn’t even realize how you and the stranger at the bar were enamored with each other. The smell of your vanilla shampoo and floral perfume was intoxicating.

One of your friends shoved a shot of tequila at you, liquid spilling over the edges onto your skin tight red dress. His eyes instantly glanced down to find that it had darkened the fabric around your breast, you hadn’t even noticed- too busy throwing back the shot and wincing at the burn going down your throat.

A drop of tequila clung to your plump bottom lip and Bucky had to adjust himself in his chair when he felt his pants tighten. He took a chance and swiped at the drop of tequila on your lip with the pad of his thumb, your eyes closed and Bucky swore he heard you moan. You were so receptive to his touch and he knew he had to have you.

“C'mon babe we gotta go dance” One of your friends said, pulling you away from Bucky and onto the dance floor.

Bucky knew as he watched you go that he wasn’t going to leave tonight without you with him..

He felt in his pocket for the vial Lloyd had given him.

Tonight was the night.

He wasn’t going to take any chances, he wanted you and he was going to get you in his bed.

It was at that revelation that he found himself at the bar most of the night.

He watched as you and your friends danced and had fun, giggling as you took turns grinding on one another that had him and every other man in the room entranced.

Finally you stumbled over to the bar, Bucky placed his hand on your lower back to help steady you.

“Thanks” you grinned up at him, loving the feel of his hand on your lower back.

Your eyes met endless pools of cerulean blue that had you taking in a shaky breath.

You could see the barely contained lust poorly hidden in their depths. It made you shiver and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes to cover yourself from his roaming eyes. Uneasiness settled deep in your bones, you could feel his lecherous stare all over your body.

You asked for more shots and turned away from the bar to avoid any conversation with the man. Yeah he looked good but it was something about him that just felt off and he looked so familiar but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. 

Since you were turned away you completely missed when the bartender placed your order of shots on the counter.

Bucky took his chance and added a drop of the liquid from the vial to your shot.

He watched as you downed it with no problem, no sign of disgust on your face at all.

Now he could only wait and watch to see if it would take effect.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was like a fire had been lit under your skin, it felt hot, too hot and it seemed like no one else was feeling the same way. Desire pooled in your belly and you could feel your pussy start to soak your thong. You felt dizzy, the room started to spin as you stumbled over to the bathroom.

You stood near the sink, splashing water on your skin in hopes of cooling yourself down but you let out a little whine as your pussy throbbed with desire. You didn’t know what had come over you, your boyfriend Chris was always good about fucking you good but he was away on a NASA mission for a few weeks. You whined again at the thought, your pussy ached to be touched and you had a brief thought about stuffing your fingers in for hopes of momentary relief until you could get home and watch one of your and Chris’s sex tapes.

The sound of the door opening had your eyes wide in surprise, a hand clutched at your chest to calm your racing heartbeat. You swore you had locked the door after coming in.

The man from the bar walked in, a predatory glint in his eyes as he looked at you up and down while he locked the door.

“Th…..th…..This is th…. The woman’s bathroom” you stuttered out, the edge of the sink digging into your back the more you tried to press your back against it.

“I know” was all he said as he walked closer to you.

The feeling of desire was beginning to overwhelm you. You could smell his cologne, tones of amber and sandalwood quickly becoming addicting. You squeezed your legs together tightly in hopes of satisfying your swollen clit.

“Aw. You want me baby”? He asked, taunting you.

The seed had been planted in your mind now. 

Fuck.

You did want him and you didn’t know why. Chris was such a good boyfriend and you had dreams of becoming Mrs. Beck one day but God the man in front of you had you wanting to throw all that out the window for one night with him.

He looked like sex on legs and God you couldn’t possibly walk away from a chance like this. Could you? 

His pupils were dilated to the point where only a small ring of cerulean blue could be seen.

“I want you” he whispered in your ear, your knees weakened at his confession.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your back, turning you so you were facing the mirrors over the sinks.

His lips trailed down your neck.

Kissing.

Licking.

Biting.

Bruising every inch of your sensitive skin. A moan escaped that had Bucky smirking against your heated flesh.

He couldn’t believe it. It was actually working.

His vibranium hand traveled up your stomach to the valley between your breasts, he yanked at the fabric of your dress and his mouth instantly watered at the sight of your plump breast.

“Look at these tits babydoll. I bet they’re sensitive” he said, groaning as he plucked and rolled a nipple between his metal fingers. They pebbled at the feel of the coolness of the vibranium and you couldn’t hold back your moan the more he pulled and tugged at them.

“I’ve always been a tit man and these are gorgeous” he confessed, grabbing a handful of each.

“Look at us” he whispered and you did as you were told.

It made your thong dampen even more than what it already was.

Bucky was standing behind you, his front pressed against your back with the top of your dress pulled down past your navel. His flesh hand had one breast gripped tightly and his vibranium had the other gripped tightly. 

It was a beautiful contrast. 

Flesh and metal.

Pain and Pleasure.

He nipped at your neck again, making your eyes roll back in your head at the instant pleasure you felt.

Chris had never made you feel like this before.

You whimpered when he left your neck to trail his lips down the expanse of your back, his hands left your breasts to follow his lips.

He pulled your dress all the way down, until you were left standing with only your thong.

Bucky growled when he felt your thong soaked through.

His index finger rubbed at your glistening folds, pulling your thong between them, making your yelp.

“Ssssshhhhh babydoll. I gotta see what I'm working with” he said and you felt yourself blush at the thought of him looking at your pussy close-up.

“Pl…..please” you whimpered out as you tried to close your legs so he couldn’t see.

“HEY! Stop that. No hiding from me. This pussy is mine” he said, smacking at the inside of your thighs making you yelp again as you hesitantly opened your legs.

“You got such a pretty pussy baby” he said before licking at the pad of his flesh thumb and bringing it to your wet entrance.

You whimpered at the feel of him pushing his thumb along with your thong in your entrance, the lace fabric slightly hurt but not as much as his thumb flexing, trying to widen your hole.

“So tight babydoll fuck” he groaned, taking both hands to pull at your hole to make it slightly gape for him. Bucky collected a tiny pool of saliva in his mouth and spit directly in your hole.

“Oh God” You whimpered at the feel of his spit dripping out of you.

Your mind felt hazy with lust. You felt like you were in a cloud, not able to think clearly, only of the man currently on his knees thrusting his fingers in your pussy. 

You could hear squelching noises each time he thrusted in.

“Hear that babydoll? Your cunt is begging for me” He said while pumping his fingers lazily in and out of you, like it was a chore to be defiling your body.

“Gon….Gonn……Gonna cum” You cried out and whimpered when he abruptly pulled out of your cunt.

He tsked in annoyance as he stood up and unbuckled his pants, sliding the worn out leather through the loops before grabbing your wrist in a tight grip and wrapping them in his belt, pulling the leather as tight as he could against your skin.

“Can’t have you cumming without permission babydoll. Sorry but tonight is about me and what I want, not what you want”. He said with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He ripped your thong off of your body before he slid his boxers down enough for his cock to spring up and hit his stomach.

Your mouth dropped when you saw how big he was, doubt coursed through you and you couldn’t help but look at him with fear in your eyes.

“What is it babydoll? Don’t think it will fit?” He asked while rubbing the tip through your folds, gathering as much of your wetness as he could.

You shook your head as your breath hitched when his tip caught in your hole.

Bucky bit his lip, fuck he had just breeched you and you already felt so tight.

“Just gonna slide in real quick babydoll” he groaned as you whimpered when he pushed the tip completely in. You could feel it tug on your hole as he tried to pull out and push back in.

It was all too much but at the same time not enough.

You felt too full and you felt like you needed more.

With each inch he pushed in, he pulled right back out so he could rub your wetness on his cock that hadn’t been in you yet.

He had to fight not to just ram all of himself in you but he wanted you to want this.

He wanted you to beg and plead for more.

He wanted to see the look of desperation on your face as you begged to be filled.

He glanced up at the mirror when he pushed a little more in you, your mouth was slightly open and your eyes were halfway closed.

You looked like a goddess. 

Better than anything he could have dreamed.

With his vibranium hand he gave your ass a quick smack and looked up in enough time to watch your eyes roll back in your head.

“Fuck you like to be spanked babydoll”? He asked and chuckled when you moaned after he gave your ass another quick smack.

“I may never let you go babydoll. I may keep you at the compound chained to my bed forever and ever. Just use this tight little cunt whenever the fuck I want to” He said before pushing all the way inside of you, his balls hitting your skin making the both of you shudder.

Your wrists were hurting, his belt too tight around them but the pain was nothing in comparison to the pleasure you were feeling of his cock nestled deep against your cervix.

You had N E V E R felt so full before.

N O T H I N G could ever compare.

Now that he was completely inside of you he showed you absolutely no mercy.

He pummeled you with each thrust, hitting your cervix each and every time with a precision like you had never seen before.

It felt like he was trying to get deeper, like he was trying to fill your womb.

“Feels so good babydoll” he said, pulling at your hair so you had to look at the mirror.

Your skin was flushed, cheeks rosy pink as Bucky fucked you thoroughly. 

“C….Cu….Cum Pu….Puh…..Please” you struggled to get out as it felt like Bucky was fucking you even harder.

“Fuck can’t even speak right cause I'm fucking you so good” he said, pulling your hair harder to bring your body back plush against his.

He wrapped a hand around your throat as he kissed and bit at your neck.

Sweat rolled down his face the more he exerted himself.

“Cum when you want to babydoll” he said, finally answering you as he squeezed your throat harder.

Your vision became spotty, tears threatened to spill any second as you struggled to breathe.

It was like he had hit something deep within you when you felt something snap. 

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your eyes rolled back in your head as your cunt clenched at his cock so hard that he couldn’t move in or out of you.

“FUCK” He groaned, feeling you cum. He looked down and noticed your cream in a ring around the base of his cock making him groan again.

“Gonna cum babydoll fuck this pussy is so goddamn good” he said pushing in and out of you again.

You could barely hear him though, your ears were ringing from the sheer intensity of your orgasm.

He thrust in and out.

One more time.

Two more times.

Three more times.

Then he was spilling into you, his cock spurting his cum into your velvet silk walls.

You were both breathing hard as you came down from your highs.

He pulled his belt loose from your wrists, rubbing the sore skin soothingly as he kissed your neck and shoulders.

You whimpered when he pulled his softening cock out of you, your combined cum dripping from your used and abused cunt.

“Ssssshhhhh you did so well babydoll” he whispered while helping to pull your dress up.

He turned you to face him so he could kiss your lips and wipe away your tears before he left you alone in the bathroom.

#dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #chris beck smut #chris beck x reader #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky smut #dark bucky x reader

[bradshawwannebe]

I need everyone to know I'm slut for tall dark fictional men that look like they could break me in half and also give THE best hugs and cuddles.

And the ENTIRE cast of both Top Gun movies

#bradley bradshaw #miles teller x reader #billy hargrove x reader #dr. chris beck x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #top gun #top gun maverick #isweartogodineedjustonenightwithmikestellerorglenpowell #sebastian stan #chris evans #johnny depp #iwonderhowtheydtreatmycats

[pricemarshfield]

walk with the devil

[Image ID; a woman putting on lipstick as seen in the rearview mirror of a car, edited so that it’s colorized green and with the text walk with the devil | ares3some / 4k over it. End ID.]

Image Source: gosee.news (original article where image was posted no longer active, but the website is still up).

Title: walk with the devil

Pairing: Ares3some

Rating: M for violence and mild, non-explicit sexual content.

Word Count: 4097

Summary: An Ares3some noir AU, focusing on how Johanssen responds after Mark dies (or, at least, is presumed dead).

Warnings: Pre-fic major character death, non-linear narrative, grief, someone being threatened with a knife and gun during interrogation, noir-typical drinking and smoking.

Created For: @anyfandomaubingo, filling out “Detective!Beth Johanssen”, @anyfandomdarkbingo, filling out “interrogation”, @lgbtqbingo, filling out “polyamorous relationship”, @anyfandomangstbingo, filling out “cunnilingus”, @anyfandomgoesbingo​, filling out “Walk with the Devil - Karliene”, @anyfandomkinkbingo, filling out “Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice.”, and @mfbingo​, filling out “I will never be like you.” (Kind of went crazy with prompts here, but I like how it turned out.)

Read below the cut or on AO3 here.

Johanssen's always been a bit cynical.

It comes with the job; there's only so many times you can look at gruesome crime scenes before you start to get a twisted view of humanity. The Ares agency is certainly better at solving crimes than the generally-indifferent cops, and that does help. It's not easy, digging through all these victims' worst mistakes only to report back to the family that it's usually who they'd warned their kid or their cousin or whoever away from the first place.

She'd been planning for every worst outcome before Lewis ever recruited her, to the combined chagrin and relief of her parents, happy she's safe but less than happy that she shows no sign of settling down with a nice man anytime soon.

If only they knew how it all actually shook out.

She's distracted from her thoughts when Venkat finally leaves the office like he'd said he was going to twenty minutes prior. The client who'd brought them their most successful case, and a good informant if not entirely trustworthy. He looks harried today, like he usually does, dark circles under his eyes showing Johanssen's not the only one who's had sleepless nights lately.

"Kapoor," she says. She kindly doesn't mention that he'd left her waiting in the everpresent rain, suit soaked through and deeply uncomfortable no matter how used she is to it.

"Beth," he says, and she waits for him to look down at the the sheaf of papers in his hands before rolling his eyes. Beck never has this problem, and Mark always asks--well, asked-- "Alright, got it here. A list of everyone who's asked me or Mitch anything about your operation in the past year. Don't have anything further back than that."

"Thanks," she says, not asking why he'd kept this up for that long anyway. Not smart to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she'll take whatever she can get to try and help solve this. Some of the names aren't surprising--Mindy Park, who they'd helped in locating her best friend Annie; Annie Montrose, who'd demanded any and all information they collected about her during her case destroyed or given back, and one of their best sources of information; Rich Purnell, who worked mostly with Vogel. "See you."

"Wait," he says, and she stops. "If there's anything I can do, let me know. I hope you catch this son of a bitch."

Johanssen nods. "Me too."

--

The night Johanssen meets Lewis isn't that different from the ones before it. She's busy writing notes about the brainstorming session she'd had to transcribe earlier, editing their half-baked ideas into something that might actually work, even be marketable. No one in the place seems likely to listen to her, but if she presents it along with the notes from the meeting tomorrow, she's sure someone will claim ownership, praise her quick typing, and hopefully it gets implemented.

Assuming anyone actually reads it.

She's at the bar closest to her apartment, a dingy little hole-in-the-wall where the only thing worse than the drinks is the company. People leave her alone, though, after word had spread of her stabbing someone who'd been too-forward with her pencil. Apparently it had gotten infected or something; she didn't care to pry further. Her paycheck is enough to pay for somewhere better, but there's not much point in risking a long walk home when drunk.

When someone sits across from her, she assumes they're going to realize who she is and leave, or the bartender will yell something and distract them enough that she can kick them in the shin. After a minute of that not happening, she looks up, irritated.

The woman sitting across from her--explains the boldness--is quietly refined in a way that doesn't fit this place. Doesn't fit Johanssen much, either. She has this beautiful red hair, even with most of it tied back, a dimple in her chin, and a calm in her gaze that Johanssen can't help but envy.

"Beth Johanssen?"

Her earlier irritation recedes only to make room for anxiety, and her grip around the pencil shifts to be more stab-friendly. "Depends who's asking."

"A friend," says the woman. "And someone who thinks you're wasted at that company. What is it, Infocom?"

"Something like that," Johanssen says. "So corporate espionage is your angle? I don't have my transcriptions on me, I'm afraid."

"I'm a friend of Martinez's," says the woman.

Just like that, Johanssen's a hell of a lot more willing to listen to the woman. Martinez is an old coworker, her favorite, the only one willing to acknowledge her work and funny to boot. He'd left ages back; she figured it was just because the hours weren't great for someone with a kid on the way. "You could open with that next time."

The woman smiles; it's a nice smile, but it doesn't soften her. If anything, she looks even more commanding with it on her face. "I'm Melissa. Lewis."

"Alright, Lewis," Johanssen asks. "What exactly do you want?"

--

The Hermes building is one of the city's nicest. Well, used to be. When it was built it was this shiny bastion of progress, but it's seen better days. There are bars on the windows of the bottom level, some of the rooms are too hot to do anything but sweat in, and any office too close to the bathrooms...

Less said about that, the better.

The elevator ride up to Ares isn't any less terrifying the millionth time she's done this, the thing creaking like it's going to give out and send her skyrocketing up to the top or careening to the bottom, leaving her as a red mush against its dusty art-deco decals. But it lets her off at the 13th floor like it always has, cheerfully dinging to tell her she's arrived.

Vogel's saying something in German on the phone, words terser and tenser than they usually are. Martinez is hunched over his desk, crossing things off a list. It's running out of leads; Johanssen's running out of patience.

"Beth!" Beck calls, and she smiles at him, sure her exhaustion shows in it. "Did you--"

She nods before he's even done speaking, holding up the paper that Venkat gave her. Martinez whoops, wincing when Vogel turns to him with a glare. "Yeah. Hopefully something sticks out."

Beck nods. Mark would've said "it will", the type of idealistic optimism that only Martinez ever gets close to.

Of course, if Mark were here, they wouldn't still be in the office. Martinez would be home with his kid, Vogel with siene Affen, Lewis in some dance bar with her husband like she's still 20. And Johanssen would be home, warm and comfortable. She could, still, Beck at her side, but it only ever feels empty, too-quiet.

Vogel hangs up. "Nothing from the docks."

Johanssen nods to acknowledge she's heard him before settling at her own desk, putting down the paper. "Where's Lewis?"

"Still searching the parks," Martinez says.

Of the office, he's the only one who refuses to say out loud what they all know, have known since a box showed up at their doorstep with a hand in it days after Mark had gone missing. Some days it pisses Johanssen off, makes her want to scream and claw at him until he says it, because she can't stop thinking about it, so he shouldn't get any peace if she and Beck can't, no one in this city should. Most days, she just stays quiet and keeps working.

"No one at any of the hospitals' morgues have found anyone that looks anything like him," Beck says. "Said they'd let me know if they did."

Before this, they'd been pretty good at keeping up a friendly chatter unless the case was particularly horrible: victim too young, too much blood, found a block away from an elementary school, all of the above. (That last one had kept Beck awake for weeks; he'd drunk more heavily than any of them for too-long afterwards.) Now, they're all silent, the scratching of pencil or pen on paper the only noise in the office.

The sun's long since set when Lewis walks in, visibly agitated, sitting down in her desk and reaching for the bottle of bourbon she keeps in her desk before anyone can so much as ask why she's so pissed.

"So the glitterati weren't helpful?"

Lewis shakes her head before drinking directly from the bottle. "Bupkis. Didn't matter how many greenbacks I slipped the staff, either. Any of you?"

A chorus of no. Johanssen's grip around her pencil is tight enough to snap, and Beck grabbing her hand doesn't help like it used to. "Do we have anything?"

"I haven't finished going through Venkat's leads," Johanssen says. "Most of them don't--I'll let you know."

"That's something," Lewis says, tired and unconvincing.

No one calls her on it.

--

"I'm not a detective," Johanssen says, disbelieving. The bar's long-since closed, the two of them smoking outside Johanssen's apartment building. (She's not convinced enough to invite her in, yet.) "Martinez recommended me?"

"'Brightest mind in that place' is what he said," Lewis corrects. "And we need another broad in our business. I promise, it'll be better than working with those yucks."

"Doubt the pay's half-as-good, though," Johanssen says. "And sorry, but I'm not exactly looking to get into the business of relying on something that's gonna go belly up the second you cross the wrong person."

"Been going well so far," Lewis says mildly. Johanssen has no idea what it'll take to shake her; she kind of wants to find out. "Look, how 'bout this? Take my business card, drop by on your next day off, and if you're not interested after that, I'll leave you alone. Heck, I'll give you the bourbon I keep in my desk if you do."

"How good is it?"

"Pretty damn good. Saving it for a special occasion. Or a terrible one. Whichever comes first."

Johanssen laughs, dropping her cigarette and crushing it beneath her heel. "You in the habit of making bets you'll lose?"

Lewis smirks. "No."

--

Johanssen's run through every name on the list she recognizes and a few she doesn't, down to less than six names. She hadn't exactly had a lot of hope going into this--cynicism's stronger than any other way to stay on the beam--but finds herself angry anyway. At the world, at Venkat Kapoor, at Mark, as fucked up as that is.

Beck rests a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't turn to look at him even as she stops aggressively scratching out the name Neil (died six months prior). "Let's head home."

Johanssen thinks she'd rather sleep in the office or go on a bender or taking her revolver and taking everything she feels out on the hide of everyone who let it happen, but she sets her pencil down anyway, follows Beck down the elevator and into their beat-up black Cadillac.

Their place is nicer than the Hermes building, which isn't saying much. It's not exactly in the sticks, but it's far enough that it's peaceful. Mark had loved it, loved the backyard, tending to the plants that had never quite gotten enough sun, loved the quiet, loved watching the neighbors try to figure out which of them was seeing Johanssen and which was the down-on-their-luck roommate who had to live with the newlyweds while the three of them laughed, Beck's arm around Mark's back.

They don't say anything anymore, getting ready for and in bed like it's a chore, even when Beck rolls on top of Johanssen and kisses her, or when she kisses back. This never used to be like this; it was joyful, fun, something she'd smile about, staring off into the middle distance until Martinez elbowed her, calling her khaki wacky or some other stupid slang she couldn't help but grin at.

Now, when Beck makes his way down her legs to get his mouth on her, she barely even moves her hips to help him along, does it more out of affection than any real desire to. She gets a hand on him for much the same reason, enjoys watching the way his face crumples even as she mostly just wants to sleep.

--

"Aw, duckie!" Mark says as Johanssen throws a pillow at him. "I'm touched! I didn't realize you liked me so much."

"You're obnoxious," she says, smiling too much for the words to have any weight. "Chris, tell him he's annoying."

"You're both annoying," Beck says, ducking as Mark throws another pillow her way. "I'm trying to read."

"Boo, cold fish," Johanssen says. "You have two of the prettiest people this side of town in your bed and you're reading medical journals?"

Tempted as he looks by the less-than-subtle flirtation, Beck turns the page, ignoring them both. Johanssen rolls her eyes and flops back on the bed, head flat against the mattress with most of the pillows on the floor behind her. Mark ends up dropping the pillow and doing the same, landing half on top of her. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I mean, Chris is the dreamboat, but you're not terrible," Johanssen says, and Mark agrees with a pleased hum. "This is generally the part where my gentleman caller would compliment me back."

"I'm pretty sure I've already called you the most beautiful dame in the city," Mark says, propping himself up a little higher. "Or was my constant supply of pet names not enough?"

"Mm, I don't know, I think you could do better."

Beck flips the page in a way that's somehow pointed, even though Johanssen's pretty sure he hasn't read a single word on the page.

"Sweetheart," Mark says, then winces. "Oof, no, makes me sound like a geezer. Darling? Eh, not a fan. Doll face?"

"That was a movie," Johanssen points out. "One that you dragged me to see, if you'll remember."

"Well, it's not like Chris could be dragged from his books long enough to enjoy it," Mark says. "Very pointed observation, chuck."

"Just because Shakespeare used it as an endearment doesn't mean you can pull it off," Johanssen says.

"You're such a square," Mark says, grinning down at her. She rolls her eyes even as she pulls him in, kissing him deeply and only letting him pull back to breathe. "Really? That's the one that works? Unconventional taste, but definitely suits you."

"Yeah, yeah, honey," Johanssen says. "I can definitely think of better things for you to do with that smart mouth."

Beck sighs, sounding more frustrated than annoyed.

Mark's smile turns mischievous. "Oh, really?"

"Really."

They manage to get her nightgown pushed up to her hips before Beck does set down the book, forgetting all pretense of not paying close attention but too stubborn to admit to it out loud. She smiles at him as Mark presses a quick, fond kiss on her stomach. "Oh, but your book."

"Beth," Beck says, warning.

"Mark," Johanssen says. "What about pet names for Chris here?"

"Angel face," Mark says, quickly enough that he'd definitely already been thinking about it. "Or is that only for dames?"

"Hm, not sold," Johanssen says, shivering when Mark moves a little lower. "What about, ah, kitten?"

"I don't hate that," Mark says. "For him, anyway. He's cute, fits him better than me."

"Aw, you're plenty handsome," Johanssen says, hand cupping his face fondly.

Mark grins up at her, settled between her legs. Beck shifts on the bed but doesn't move any closer. "Come on, Chris, you've got Beth Johanssen in your bed and you're gonna keep her waiting?"

Beck groans, eyes falling shut. "You two are gonna be the death of me."

God, Johanssen hopes not. "Kitten, don't make us tell you twice."

--

The last name on the list is one Theodore "Teddy" Sanders, some bigwig officer who City Hall says gets paid peanuts but somehow lives in the nicest neighborhood here, glittering skyrises almost managing to make you forget the country's barely out of the Great goddamn Depression. She should've brought someone with her, but she's on the knife's edge of losing it, and she doesn't think she could take Lewis' sternness or Martinez's hope or Beck's sad puppy eyes.

And Vogel was busy tailing Venkat in case he'd been holding something back. She doubts it, but better safe than sorry.

For a cop, the man's remarkably careless, getting into his car and tossing his gun into the passenger seat without even looking back as he reverses. It keeps him from seeing her in the backseat, and she's quiet as a mouse as she sits up and gets a knife at his throat.

He freezes. "Who's paying you?"

"I'm not as easily bought as you, chicken," she hisses. "Drive."

He does. "What do you want?"

"What do you know about Mark Watney?"

"Who the hell is--"

Johanssen digs the knife a little deeper, not enough to cut but just shy of it. "I've never heard such cock-eyed crap in my life."

"Look, I don't know what to tell you. I don't know anything."

With her free hand, Johanssen cocks her gun. A bead of sweat runs down Teddy's brow. "That doesn't jive with my information."

"Fine, alright, I get it, you're not gullible," he says. "All I know is that he's some private investigator. I don't know anything more than that, and I definitely don't know why you're asking me."

"Why are you looking for gumshoes? Shouldn't that be your job?"

"It's a--private matter. My wife--"

Johanssen rolls her eyes. "I don't care about your wife. Tell me everything you know."

"That is everything I know."

Johanssen weighs whether or not she believes him. It could be bullshit; all cops do is lie, and they can be half-decent at it. But she's got a gun and a knife on him, and he seems genuinely embarrassed about the wife thing. "Who told you to go to Venkat?"

"Annie, a secretary at the precinct--"

Shit, and Annie wouldn't recommend someone if she didn't trust them. "Fuck! This was useless."

"Yeah, seems like you'd know Annie," Teddy says. "You sure you want to be a PI? This kind of initiative, you'd do well in our office. Annie can tell you, it's not a half-bad job. Probably safer than any of the shenanigans you all get into."

"You don't know anything about us," Johanssen says, venomous, a defense that's been on the tip of her tongue for months.

"You're driven. Reminds me a lot of when I was a rookie on the fo--"

Johanssen laughs, sharp and mean. "I'm nothing like you. I will never be like you."

"The moral grandstanding would work better if you didn't have a gun at my head."

"...pull over."

Teddy does, and Johanssen gets out of the car without a second word, heading back to Hermes with her hand still on her gun, hidden in the folds of her coat.

--

Hermes is a brand-new, shiny building, the dramatic lines and gold detailing on the building as beautiful as any painting Johanssen's ever looked at. She almost doubts whether or not she's come to the right place, but no, the address on the card Lewis gave her matches.

Johanssen heads up to the thirteenth floor, trying not to twiddle her thumbs too much. She's just curious, is all. There's no way she'll go for this detective thing, told her parents as much when they chatted on the phone earlier, wasn't stung at all by their obvious relief when she said so. It's free bourbon; she wouldn't pass that up.

"Johanssen!" Martinez says once she walks in. "Vogel, you owe me."

"2 dollars," says some German guy, resigned. "You will bankrupt me."

"Very Versailles of you," says some blond guy, grinning at the pair of them. Martinez laughs at that, and Vogel hands over the greeenbacks without much grumbling. "I'm Mark. Good to meet you, Beth. Or do you prefer Johanssen?"

"Johanssen," she says, shaking his hand. They hold the handshake for a beat longer than she normally would, and his cheeks are just the littlest bit pink when he does end up dropping it. "Is Lewis here?"

"Oh, she just stepped out for a second," says someone in the back, an equally good-looking guy with brown hair. He's less subtle than Mark about checking her out, but does duck his gaze when she meets his, more respectful than most of the bozos she runs into. "Should be back before I'm done with this."

"You're such a drip, Beck," Mark says with an eyeroll. "You know most people stop with the studying once they graduate med school, don't you?"

"Most people stay doctors once they graduate med school," Beck says. "I'm already breaking convention. Might as well keep going."

"Can't fault that," Mark says, gaze as intent on Beck as it was on her. That's--interesting. "Let me show you around?"

"Sure," she says, and takes his arm when he offers it. The place isn't that big; the "tour" takes about ten minutes, most of which is spent with him telling a story about how he and Beck got sauced on a stakeout and almost missed their client's mistress sneaking out with half the contents of his safe. It's funny, and she doesn't even have to fake her laugh.

"Did Beck really tackle her?"

"Oh, propriety goes out the window on a case," Mark says. "Never really been my thing, anyway."

"Is that so?" she says, smirking up at him.

Before he can answer, Lewis walks in, smiling when she notices Johanssen. "I'm glad you showed up. Still want that drink?"

Johanssen bites her lip, watches Mark watch her as she does it. "Think I'm alright."

"Thought so," Lewis says, watching them with an expression that's less surprised and more resigned. "Your desk'll be next to Beck's."

"Oh, you'll like the good doctor," Mark says, walking her over even though it's a few steps away. "Handsome guy like that."

"Jealous?"

"Should I be nervous?" Beck asks, looking at the two of them with an expression that's probably supposed to be annoyed, but the smile playing at the corner of his mouth keeps it from being convincing.

"Of course," Johanssen says right as Mark says, "Well, obviously."

--

"Nothing?" Martinez asks, desperation clear in the lines of his face and the tension in his shoulders.

Johanssen sits down at her desk and scratches out Teddy Sanders harshly enough that the paper tears. "Nothing. Put him through the wringer, too."

Lewis nods, ever stalwart in the face of a crisis. "Does anyone have anything else? Anything?" No one speaks up, and Johanssen wishes she'd shot the guy. Being dragged to prison has to be better than this awful silence. "Shit."

Beck cries at his desk, silent but obvious, and Martinez joins him. Johanssen wishes she could, but she still feels too--cold, even as Lewis offers her a glass. "I should've taken this in the first place."

"Would that really have been better?" Lewis asks, knowing what she means. She hopes Beck won't piece it together; it'd hurt him, no matter how much she means it right now.

Rather than answer, Johanssen drains the bourbon in one swig. It doesn't burn as bad as she's used to, and the second pour's even easier. She tries not to look at the expression on Beck's face, grieving and disappointed, the rage she still feels simmering in her gut either missing or so deeply buried she doubts he'll ever let her see it.

When Beck goes home, he doesn't try and bring Johanssen with him, leaving her at her desk. She doesn't get up to follow, staring down at the photo of the three of them on her desk. She's well-past tipsy, so she doesn't think twice before throwing the thing away from her, the glass of the frame shattering into a million pieces.

Johanssen falls asleep at her desk, dreaming of better times.

--

"Angel," Mark whispers, close enough to her ear that she can feel his breath fanning out against her skin.

"Mmf," Johanssen says.

"It's a beautiful morning," Beck says, though he notably hasn't gotten up either, from the way the bed dips down in the middle, letting their legs brush.

"You sure you don't want to get up and see it?" Mark asks.

"Mmf," Johanssen says, again. She feels it's a fair point.

"Our girl's not much of a morning person, huh?"

"Mmf!" Johanssen protests.

"Understatement," Mark says knowingly. "We could tip her out--"

"Hey, your funeral."

#anyfandomaubingo #anyfandomdarkbingo #lgbtqbingo #anyfandomangstbingo #the martian fanfiction #anyfandomgoesbingo #anyfandomkinkbingo #mfbingo #my fics #fic: walk with the devil #ares3some #watssen #johanbeck #beckney #beth johanssen #mark watney #chris beck #the martian

[koolkat9]

11, 15 and 25!

A Writer’s Ask Game

11. Books and/or authors who influenced you the most

Rainbow Rowell definitely. My life has basically become her story Fangirl (a fanfiction writer going to school to pursue writing). But her Carry On series really made me believe that I could possibly be an author even though I feel my style is more fitting for fanfiction (focus on relationships over a solid plot). Like obviously I need to polish and expand my skills, but like...Her Carry on Series reads almost like fanfiction (because it is probably very much based off of Drarry fanfiction but shhhh) especially the third book which focuses so much on the main couple's relationship, their healing, etc. while the main plot often fell to the background. I mean a lot of people didn't like that, but for me, who loves to read stuff focused on relationships and is content with that being the main attraction, I really enjoyed it. It showed me a potential way to write a story, one I don't commonly see, but like.

Other authors who have probably influenced me though I can't really pinpoint how: Chris Colfer (and his series The Land of Stories) and Beck Albertalli (Her Love, Simone universe).

15. How do you deal with writer’s block?

Hehe...Basically I'm forced to take a break.

But yeah...I'll read some fics, both my own and others. Scroll through tumblr. Make headcanons, discuss headcanons/aus in discord servers. If i only have writer's block for a particular fic, I'll move onto another one.

I don't really do much. Kind of just sit, wait, watch youtube/netflix while i wait for the ideas to start coming again.

25. Favourite part of writing

When it's done. It's just nice to see it all come together. Especially if I feel a part was awkward only to read back and go "Wait that shit is good."

#writer ask game #writer asks #ask game

[intrepidacious]

caught up in you

summary: When Chris takes you on a nightly drive, he still has a few surprises in store for you.

pairing: college!chris beck x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: literally just fluff, one (1) musical theatre reference, i know nothing about stars i just think they’re neat

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: “and in the middle of the night when i'm in this dream / it's like a million little stars spelling out your name” (untouchable) & “all I feel in my stomach is butterflies” (everything has changed) by taylor swift

a/n: this was written for my dear friend tiff's 1k writing challenge and it's decidedly not what i'd planned to write for this challenge, i just got a book about astronomy from the library today and this sort of just happened. surprise!! anyway, congrats again @barnesafterglow i couldn't be more proud of you <3

masterlist | read on ao3

The stars were as bright as Chris’ eyes that night, so when he asked you to come with him, you’d said yes without a second thought. In all honesty, you’d have taken any excuse to leave the campus behind and just drive, music blasting and quiet laughter fading into comfortable silence, watching the other cars disappear until it seemed you were the only people on the planet who were still awake.

You were set to leave for winter break early the next day, your bags already packed next to your bed, all ready for your flight home. It was a relief to finally be done with the avalanche of exams and overdue essays that’d been dragging you down all semester, senior slump getting the better of you, making you constantly irritable and exhausted.

Now, though, it’d all made space for a lovely sense of tranquility you only ever felt with Chris by your side.

You’d barely seen him all semester, your schedules vastly conflicting due to your different majors. At first you’d thought it a blessing, hoping your stubborn little crush on him would vanish just as quietly as it’d appeared if you didn’t see him that often, but you had no such luck.

Your best friend was still the most annoyingly handsome boy you’d ever met.

It didn’t help that he was also the smartest guy you knew when it came to pretty much every subject except, thankfully, your feelings for him, or that his freckles mapped out little constellations you wanted to trace up to his hairline.

Chris kept his eyes on the road while you watched his profile, but that pesky little grin appeared on his face again, the one that never failed to make your stomach flip. “We’re almost there,” he said and held out his hand for you to place another redvine in.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked. There was nothing around you but the trees, and it was so dark you couldn’t see much farther than a few feet outside of the beam of your headlights.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” he told you, still smiling.

You laughed. “You really wanna go there, Beck?”

You kept bickering until he pulled the car over a few minutes later, parking it next to a fairly steep path that led up through the line of trees. It was freezing when you got out of the car, the ground crunching softly underneath your boots. Your breath left little clouds of steam in the clear night air.

“Come on!” Chris called over when he saw you hesitating. His backpack was slung loosely around one shoulder, and he was carrying a bundle of blankets he’d pulled out of the trunk of his car.

Reluctantly, you followed him up the trail, your nose scrunched up against the wind. He’d told you to dress up warm before you left, but you felt like you were still at least two layers short of an acceptable temperature. Your eyes were watering so much you barely noticed when you emerged on a little clearing and Chris stopped walking, so you almost barreled into him.

“Careful, starshine,” he chuckled, and you felt your cheeks heat in spite of the cold.

“What are we doing here, Chris?” you muttered into your scarf as he unfolded an insulation blanket on the frozen grass.

“We,” he said, putting another blanket around you and pulling gently until you sat down next to him, “are getting the best view within driving distance.”

You looked up at the sky.

There were thousands upon thousands of stars. Not a single cloud was covering the panoply above you, and you’d left the city so far behind that no artificial light was affecting the magnificent sight. The stars were shining so brightly it almost didn’t look real.

For a while, you could do nothing but stare in awe.

“I like to come here when I need a reminder why I’m doing this,” Chris said quietly and you turned to glance at him. Your heart gave a stutter so thunderous you almost flinched. He looked just about as tired as you felt, but the stars were reflecting in his eyes like they made up his personal galaxy.

You’d always thought him beautiful, but he’d never looked quite as mesmerizing as he did right then.

He swallowed heavily, but he didn’t avert his gaze from the night sky. Probably for the better; you were sure everything you felt for him was written all across your face right then, and it felt too precious to be witnessed.

“Look, that’s Orion,” Chris said and you followed his outstretched arm back up to the stars, trying to find where he led you.

“That one?” you asked, pointing at something bright.

“No, that’s the Hyades.” You trailed more to the left and he chuckled. “That’s Mars.” He wrapped his hand around yours so that your index fingers were aligned. You couldn’t help the small gasp at his touch. “See those three stars here?”

You hummed, not trusting your vocal cords to make it through a single syllable.

“They make up Orion’s Belt. That’s Rigel, at his foot,” he continued, guiding your hand down and to the right, tracing a trapeze in the stars. “And when you follow it up this way, to his shoulder, that’s Betelgeuse.”

“Beetlejuice, huh?” you grinned. “You offering a full-time specter?”

“You bet’cha. Nerd.” You could hear the smile in Chris’ voice.

“That’s rich coming from you, space boy.”

“That’s his club, over there,” he continued, ignoring your remark. “And that’s the shield.”

“I think I see it,” you said, squinting a bit.

You expected him to let go of you, then, but instead, he tilted you further backwards until you basically laid down on the blanket.

“That one’s the brightest star in the night sky,” he said, drawing out another star formation with your fingers. “And it’s part of the Greater Dog.”

You giggled. “Is there a Lesser Dog?”

“You’re joking, but there is. Wait a second.” He directed you back to Beetlejuice and to the left. “Those two. See that line?”

“I don’t see how it’s a dog, but sure.” The wind picked up and a shiver went through you.

“Do you wanna head back to the car?” Chris asked.

“No,” you said, realizing you didn’t. He still kept hold of your hand. “I just wish I’d brought a heater or something.”

“It’s not the same thing, but there’s hot chocolate in that thermos.”

“And you’re only telling me this now?”

He laughed quietly and sat up, pulling his backpack open with one hand. When he did finally let go of you, you frowned at the loss. The first sip of your drink helped bring some warmth back to your body, at least.

Chris kept the thermos in his hand, shifting even closer and wrapping his own blanket around both of you. “That okay?” he asked softly.

Again, you could only nod. You were feeling considerably warmer already.

A movement in the distance caught your eye and you jerked your head around. “Look at that!” you gasped, blindly grabbing his arm and staring at the sky again. “Was that a shooting star?”

“Possible. There are some meteor showers around this time.” There was a short pause before he spoke again, even more quietly this time. “You should wish for something, just in case.”

When you turned towards him again, the stars in his eyes only seemed to burn brighter. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but his cheeks looked slightly flushed. You bit your lip, hard, and Chris’ gaze dropped to the movement. Your fingers involuntarily tightened around his arm and you could hear his breath hitch.

A million butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the same time.

You felt so dizzy with the lightness of it, it was easy to lean in, to let your lips meet his the way you thought about at least as many times as there were stars in his eyes, to kiss him like you’ve wanted to for so long now.

He sighed against your lips, and it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. There was a fire burning in you now that made you forget about the cold, made you forget about everything but the way he tasted faintly of rootbeer and chocolate and the fact that he was actually kissing you—

“Wait,” Chris gasped against your mouth and you almost fell backwards with how fast you moved.

Your brain couldn’t form any words, not with the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, but before you could stammer out some sort of apology for your impulsiveness, he grabbed the thermos lid out of your hand, chugged the rest of its contents down and quickly screwed the bottle shut before throwing it carelessly on the ground next to you.

“Now,” he said lowly, putting his hands on your cheeks and pulling you in again, “where were we?”

If there were hundreds more shooting stars in the sky that night, you couldn’t care less.

please don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this 💛 if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow my libary blog for update notifications!!

#all's well writing challenge #chris beck x reader #chris beck fic #chris beck x you #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck oneshot #the martian fanfic #caught up in you

[navybrat817]

Navy's Port of Call

Your stop for all things fic and writing related.

Writer Info

⚓ My Masterlist

⚓ I write female reader insert fanfiction and do my best to make the reader as inclusive as possible. For that reason, I do not use "readers" in any of my moodboards or graphics.

⚓ I write primarily for Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters, but am open to other fandoms.

⚓ Writing Updates: I currently do not have a posting schedule as I write in my limited free time and post when I can. Please, be patient and I will share updates as they are available.

⚓ Taglists: I no longer do taglists. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications for new fics and updates. 💙

⚓ Requests: Formal requests are currently closed, but never be ashamed to send me your shameless hoe thots, gifs, videos, headcanons, etc. They may inspire something!

⚓ I love discussing my fics and thots, so feel free to ask or comment if you're curious. I value that feedback.

⚓ I happily accept gifs, photos, videos, moodboards, etc., anything that reminds you of one of my fics, AUs, or characters.

⚓ I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here or archiveofourown under my same username, it has been reposted without my permission.

⚓ Minors: DNI

I Will Write

⚓ Smut, fluff, angst (within reason), light, soft!dark, dark, AUs (feel free to ask), age difference (of age), poly/threesome, reverse harem, dubcon, noncon, cnc, yandere, D/s, somnophilia, cockwarming, sex pollen, praise, praise and degradation, breeding, chase, power imbalance, choking, knife play, voyeurism, exhibitionism, bondage, edging, overstimulation, breath play, sensory deprivation, A/B/O, stepcest, and more. Feel free to ask if it isn't listed below.

I Will Not Write

⚓ RPF, pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, race play, watersports, underage scenarios, scat play, cheating between "main" couple, miscarriage.

Who I'll Write For

⚓ Sebastian Stan Characters: Bucky Barnes, Scott Huffman, Nick Fowler, Hal Carter, Chris Beck, Jefferson, Destroyer!Chris, Steve Kemp, Charles Blackwood, Lee Bodecker, Mickey Henry, Chase Collins, Lance Tucker

⚓ Chris Evans Characters: Steve Rogers, Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, Jake Jensen, Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Frank Adler, Lloyd Hansen

⚓ Henry Cavill Characters: Clark Kent, August Walker, Walter Marshall, Captain Syverson

⚓ Misc. Characters: Dean Winchester, Soldier Boy, Jax Teller, William Miller, Raymond Smith, Sierra Six, Morpheus, The Corinthian, Harwin Strong

Happy reading, lovelies! 💙 And thank you to @rookthorne for the divider and @sgt-seabass for the header. 💙

#navy's port of call #writing #my writing #writing guidelines #about me #about my writing

[chrisdrysdale]

Day 2 - Marking with Chris Beck

+18 minors dni if you do you will be blocked!

Marking: cumming deep within your partner; marking your territory

Kinktober in April day 2!

Kinktober masterlist

“Fuck Chris keep going baby!”

Chris was propped up on top of you, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“shit sweets yours so fuckin’ tight”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. He pressed his forehead against yours “I love baby”

“Fuck I love you too Chris”

He pulled away from you and grasped onto your hips and dragged his cock most of the way out before slamming it back in, making you scream.

“Shit! Fuck baby gonna cum!”

You once again wrapped you arms around his neck “C’mon Chris, cum in my, fill me up”

Chris slammed into you on more time, letting out a loud moan before dropping his head to your shoulder and panting. “Shit Chris you did so good”

He began kissing and biting around your shoulder before pulling out and slowly slipping in between your legs, and scooping up some of his cum that leaked out and began fingering it back into you sensitive pussy.

“shit shit shit Chris, fuck!”

He began picking up the pace and curling his fingers up “Yeah my little baby gonna cum again”

You grasped onto his forearm as he brought his other hand down and began circling his clit. “coming!“ is all you shouted as your orgasm washed over you, coming all over Chris’s hands. “Fuck good girl” He began kissing your temple as he brought the covers over you.

#chris beck #sebastian stan characters #kinktober in april #chris beck fanfic #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck x reader #chris beck x you #the martian

[avintagekiss24]

leave out all the rest | c. beck

→ pairing: chris beck x black!reader

→ word count: 5387

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smidge of angst, smut, sex, breeding kink, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo

flashbacks

→ request: chris beck + breeding kink + "babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that" + "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that"

→ author note: dr. space daddy is finally here! this is also the first of my 5k celebration fics! all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. thanks so much for the request @thedarkplume​! title from linkin park leave out all the rest (i loveeee this song); line divider by @firefly-graphics​; flashbacks are in italics. i also formatted this with the beta text post editor on desktop... so hopefully nothing looks weird and the italics/bold actually work... it is tumblr after all.

oh, hey, there’s a bit of a marvel crossover in this too!

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel in this moment. Your stomach hasn’t been settled since you got the call two days ago. It’s been flipping and twisting ever since. Sleep hasn’t come easy either, but you’re used to that. Ever since Chris left, you haven’t slept well. It’s been almost seven hundred and thirty days— well, just three days short.

You follow the two tall military men, decked out in their dress blues, through the secure facility, your black leather combat boots thudding against the tile floors. Everything is white— the walls, the floors, the coats of all the scientists and doctors milling about— except for you and your flowery, thigh length sundress. Dark eyes wide, teeth nibbling on a sore, often bloody bottom lip from all the nibbling, small purse bouncing off one hip as a duffel bag bounces off the other.

Winding through corridor after corridor, pausing as the men lift their badges to keypads to get door after door to click open. An eerie quiet looms throughout the entire building, nothing but random beeps, your breathing, and footsteps.

Nervous doesn’t begin to describe it.

The walk gives you too much time to think about the last seven hundred and twenty seven days. All of the crying. All of the anger— the screaming. Chris trying to calm you down, assure you that they were okay— that he had to do this.

"It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?" You sobbed into the phone, staring up into the stars, knowing that he couldn’t but secretly hoping that he could see you.

"This is not easy for me," he choked back tears, his tongue heavy, "Leaving you is never easy but I have to do this, baby. We have to go back for Mark. We have to."

You didn’t answer his calls for over a week. And when you did, your words were quick and harsh.

"I can’t do this anymore. I’m moving in with my sister."

Chris was silent on the other end of the phone— too silent. He sighed after a while and just said, "Ok. I understand."

That was day four hundred and sixty three.

So you moved in with your sister. Got a job at the local bar, picked up every shift you could, sometimes working sixty, seventy hours a week— just so you didn’t have to think about him. It didn’t work. You’d still stare out the window at night, up into the big black sky and through the twinkling little stars, wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was thinking about you.

Unbeknownst to you, Chris continued to call your sister. Just to check on you.

Day seven hundred was when two Air Force officers walked into the bar as you were cutting up lemons and oranges. Your stomach, in a perpetual state of tight and sour, dropped to your feet. It’s never good when the military comes knocking on your door.

“He’s dead,” you spit out, eyes watering, chest starting to heave, “He’s dead, isn’t he? They’re all dead.”

When they removed their hats, your hands flew to your face, covering your mouth to muffle the sobs. You just knew they were all dead. Humans can’t stay in space for this long. It’s not natural.

“No ma’am,” the taller, brown skinned man answered, a small smile breaking onto his face, showing off the distinctive gap between his two front teeth, “They’re back in our orbit. They’ll be landing within the next seventy two hours.”

It was a flurry after that. Phone calls, you moving back onto the base, protocol gatherings, interviews with local and national media. None of it mattered. You just wanted to see him— you needed to see him.

Not before his mandatory three week quarantine that is.

Day seven hundred and twenty five is when they called to let you know that he was ready to move onto the second phase of his integration back on earth. Two weeks cohabitating with another person of his choice, just to make sure that his body and cells can still tolerate, you know, earth— and that he doesn’t give off anything that could make earthlings sick.

They called to let you know that Chris chose you— if you wanted to, of course. If not, he could call his sister.

You were packing your bag before the call even ended.

After two days of getting tested for everything known to man, it’s now day seven hundred and twenty seven and here you are, passing through the last set of doors and stepping into a large observatory room. One of the General’s starts talking, but you don’t hear a word. You just blink slow, lips falling open as you stare back at Chris as he stands at the little square window of his living quarters. He smiles soft, running his hand through his short, dark hair before waving and placing his palm on the window.

Tears cloud your vision. Your chin trembles as a sad smile spreads on your face. A sob chokes in your throat and a warm tear streaks down your cheeks. Despite the talking man, you step up to the window and press your much smaller hand on the glass, spreading your fingers to match his. Chris rests his forehead to it and you do the same as you really start to bawl— shoulders shaking, face breaking, breath rushing fast and hard.

"Baby, don’t cry. Come on pretty, don’t— don’t cry."

Chris’ voice is muffled by the thick glass, but just hearing it— so close, so familiar— after so longs it’s just… it’s almost too much. It is too much.

“Ma’am, we can’t let you in there like this. We need you to calm down.”

Dense thuds shake the glass as Chris pounds on it, "Open the door, Sam!"

Sam grabs your bicep, gently, guiding you towards the door— Chris following you both, still talking to you through the glass.

"It’s okay baby, I’m right here. I’m right here."

“We need you to calm down,” Sam starts again, “He hasn’t been around—”

"Sam! Goddamn it, leave her alone! Open the door!"

“Beck! You cool it in there!”

"Don’t be an asshole! Open the door! She’s scared!"

You hear a scoff, “Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.”

"I swear to God—"

“Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.” Sam is stern now, pointing his finger towards Chris. 

Sam pauses for a few long seconds, blinking slow but keeping his hand around your bicep— and thank God, because you honestly need it, “I’m going to badge you into the hallway, okay? You take this keycard,” he presses it into your palm, “And put it up to the keypad at the second door after I close this door behind you. It’s only good for one passthrough— once you’re in, you’re in until the medical staff clears you both. Understand?”

The second half of his speech is softer, his thumb rubbing the back of your arm. You like Chief Master Sergeant Sam Wilson. You nod quick, rubbing at your face with the back of your hand, sniffling hard and focusing a shaky breath out through your teeth as you step in front of the door. There’s a loud click and the metal pops, Sam reaching past you to push it open.

Your body, on autopilot, takes three steps to the second door, eyes staring at the keypad on the wall beside it. Chris is still talking to you through the windows, one hand pressed to the glass, the other on the door handle.

"Just a few more seconds baby. You’re doing so good."

There’s another click— Sam closing the door behind you. Water fills your eyes again, emotion choking up in your throat at the gravity of it all. All of the screaming. All of the crying. All of the hating him and loving him and missing him for seven hundred and twenty seven days all culminating right here, right now, while he’s just three feet away from you. The sky used to be the thing keeping you apart— now it’s just a wall. A door— that you can’t walk through.

"Baby, Chris says gently, "Come on baby. Open the door, honey."

You’re frozen. Eyes locked on the keypad, fingers gripping the keycard so hard they start to burn. Open the door, honey takes you back. Takes you back to the day that he told you he was going up— that he’d be gone for a year.

“Open the door, honey. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You sniffle, staring at your reflection in the mirror in your small bathroom.

“You knew this was coming. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

“A year? A year, Chris? I’m just supposed to put my life on hold for you for an entire year?”

He sighs through the door, “I’ve worked my ass off for this, you know that.” You do know that, you’re just being selfish. Needy and selfish, “I know we’ve got plans baby, but it’s just a year. One year and then I’m all yours—”

“Yeah, until the next time you decide to go up there. This is what Melissa warned me about. You get addicted to it.”

“I won’t.”

“You will,” you retort, “I know you.”

That makes him laugh, and then you’re laughing because he’s laughing, “Open the door, please.” Chris sighs again.

As soon as you turn the knob, he’s pushing through it, lifting you up off your feet and twirling you around— to make you laugh again.

You were standing on a precipice that night and neither one of you knew it. Your lives, both individual and combined, would change forever and that was the night that set it all in motion.

The keycard digs into your fingers and palm, bringing you back into the present. Back into the hallway, back in front of Chris. You blink, linking eyes with him again, finding them soft and down turned, his head tilted as he presses his fingers to the glass.

"Let me hold you," he says soft. So soft that the glass between you gobbles it up. But you just know that’s what he said. You just know.

The door clicks in your ear, a breeze is in your face as Chris throws it open, and then you’re consumed. Arms wrapped around you, hard chest against yours as you’re lifted right off of your feet. He’s so warm— he’s always been so damn warm.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, leaning back a little as you push your face into his neck, “This moment was the only thing keeping me going.”

“I’m sorry,” you sob, pushing your face into his shoulder, your tears wetting his NASA sweatshirt, “I’m so sorry, I was so selfish,” the words are clipped and broken, heavy on your tongue, “Chris, I—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that, it doesn’t matter.” He sits you back on your feet, rubbing your back with both of his large hands, “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

You cry openly into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and pushing your hands up into his sweatshirt, under the thin t-shirt underneath— just to feel his skin, “I missed you so much.”

One, two, three, four pecks of his warm lips on the top of your head before he rests his cheek there, holding you tight as he takes a deep breath, “All that’s over now, hmm?” you can feel the smile on his face, “We don’t have to miss each other anymore.”

-

A yawn pushes out of your mouth as you stretch out tight, sore muscles screaming. Eyes flutter as you shift, another deep breath pushing out your nose as you nuzzle your face into the pillows, body cocooned in warmth. You’re drifting again, quick, when an abrupt panic races through your veins without warning. Your stomach drops, skin instantly flushing with heat as you spring up, eyes as wide as saucers as your breath rushes.

That’s when you hear it, an all too familiar sound. A pencil, tapping slowly, methodically, against something. It calms you instantly. It’s real, you’re real, Chris is real, and you’re here. He’s here.

You swing your legs over the edge of the small bed, tucked in the corner behind a small partition. There’s a soft light glowing underneath it and a single red blinking dot emanating from the corner of the room— a camera. You push your hair out of your face but keep your fingers on your cheeks, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. There’s a murmur, Chris mumbling to himself and you can’t help but smile.

You stand and start moving towards the noises, padding soft and slow as his mess of brown hair and hunched back comes into view. He stands, switching out an X-Ray on the viewer before he plops back down into the swivel chair, staring at it for a second before he starts flipping through the large, open text book just to his left. There’s a little white board off to the right, leaning against the wall, the days he’s been “gone”, seven hundred and twenty seven, scribbled in his messiest of messy handwriting.

The little slice of time watching him sends you right back to your college years, waking up in his dorm room, finding the bed empty and him huddled over a too small desk, furiously flipping through a thousand page text book. You’d sneak up on him, just as you are now, barely dressed and sleepy eyed. Dig your fingers into his hair, scratch his scalp slow. Giggle as his shoulders slump and his head falls back a little, him moaning all the while.

“God, that feels good.”

“You let me fall asleep.”

“You cried yourself to sleep. Didn’t have the heart to wake you… you look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

“Hmm, more like two. What are you doing?” you ask, pushing around his side and crawling into his lap, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Looking at our X-Rays from earlier today. I’m working on another paper for the Institute.”

“Trying to see if you guys are still earthlings?”

He laughs, the sound rumbling through you, making you smile, “Kinda, yeah. Our body masses have changed dramatically— our bones are longer, I’m not shitting you.” You giggle again at the enthusiasm in his voice, “It’s just a few centimeters, but still. Our brain waves are a little different, metabolism has sped up… it’s incredible.”

You keep the small smile on your face as your fingertips drift over his chest, rubbing slow as you feel his eyes fall to you, “You should get back in bed,” he says, squeezing your knee gently, “You look so tired, baby.”

“Not without you.”

He laughs again, “My circadian rhythm’s all fucked up, I can’t sleep.”

“Then it looks like you're stuck with me,” you kiss his chin and then cuddle back into him, “Don’t mind me.”

Mind you, he doesn't. He just goes about flipping pages and scribbling down random thoughts, marking up his pile of x-rays and fumbling through his and the rest of the crew's medical charts. You push your hand up into the arm of his navy blue NASA sweatshirt, raking your nails up and down his forearm absentmindedly as you breathe him in. Your other hand wanders too, tracing the band of his dark sweatpants before skipping up into his sweatshirt, brushing over his stomach and up to his chest.

The pads of your fingers outline the muscles that are still there, his pecs, down and across his soft abs, before back up and over a cheeky nipple. He jumps slightly, crinkling his nose as he smiles big and hard, “Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You bat two big eyes up at him, the weight of going almost two years without catching up with you right at this moment. A hum vibrates in your throat as you stand, taking a few steps away from him before you toss your eyes over your shoulder, licking your bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it. You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers after a few moments, watching him drag his big eyes down your bare legs and then back up over your powder pink satin shorts and matching camisole.

“Come to bed, Dr. Beck.”

He’s up and on his feet before the words are out of your mouth. Warm fingers interlace with yours as the two of you move back towards the bed, falling onto the soft twin size mattress. His weight dips into the bed as he sinks his knees into it, pulling his sweatshirt over his head as you crawl towards the headboard. You draw your legs up, swaying them gently back and forth, palms flat on your thighs as you inhale deep, watching as he tosses his shirt to the floor.

The smile on your face grows larger as he crawls over you, pushing your legs open with his soft hands before he settles right between them. Chris takes his time looking at you, smiling soft as his eyes drift over your face, his index finger dragging down the bridge of your nose, over two full lips, and down your chin and neck. You let out a quick breath when the pad of that sneaky finger dips just inside your tank top— right into your cleavage.

He cups your face, his thumb resting on your lips, brushing gently, “I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers, blue eyes filling with earnest as they bounce between yours, “I mean it.”

You turn your head into his palm, pressing your lips into the soft, warm skin, planting kisses, “You promise?”

The delivery is breathless. Quiet. Small. Almost begging him to mean it. He takes a deep breath, pushes it out slow before leaning in, closing his eyes as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. That’s when he kisses you— slow. Deep. Tongue pushing through your lips and into your mouth.  Massaging the roof of your mouth before sliding along your tongue. He even moans a little, lets his body— muscles, bones, brain— relax. Lets himself melt into you because it’s just been so damn long.

It ends slow, the kiss. Chris grabbing your lip with his teeth and pulling gently before he rests his forehead to yours. Eyes closed, his big, skilled hands and fingers flirting with your calves—pushing over your knees and then down your thighs to come to rest on your sides and hips.

“I promise.” You slide your hands up and down his sides, letting your eyelids flutter as he continues, punctuating his words with more gentle kisses, “We can start that life you’re so crazy about,” he laughs when you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “Buy you a house.”

“On the base?”

“I thought you didn’t like the base?”

“I don’t… but I kinda... do.”

“Then yeah, on the base if that’s what you want.”

Your eyes are still closed as hot lips press against your face— the crook of your nose, underneath one eye, cheeks, and then chin. You push your fingers up into his hair as he forges a path with his lips and tongue— down your neck, over two collarbones, down your arm— all the while his hands move upward. Up into your silk top, nimble fingers playing with two tight nipples before he rucks the silk top up to your chin.

“Wait,”

“What?”

“What about them?”

“Them, who?”

Pointing with your foot towards the blinking red light in the corner, “Them.”

He laughs and you laugh, covering your face with your hands until Chris pries them away, “They’re nerds, babe. We’ve already made them so nervous they’ve left the control room.”

You honestly can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. Not since he left you suppose. It’s a nice sound, for both you and him, filling up the small space, making it alive and lived in instead of clinical and dry, “That’s not nice, Chris!”

He shimmies the thin material up over your head, casting it to the floor, “It’s the truth! I should know. Remember the first time I saw you naked? I couldn’t look anybody in the eye for a week.”

The memory makes you laugh, soft and dreamy-like, “That was so long ago.”

Chris catches the tone. It makes him halt, for just a second, his eyes shifting away from you. Guilt. For holding you at an arm’s length for so long. For making you number two. For making you wait for him for so damn long.

You tilt your head, eyes searching his. Gentle hands claim his face, pulling him back into your strong gaze, “Stay with me,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, “You’re buying me a house.”

“Ah, yes,” with one fell swoop, your shorts are pulled down your legs, right over the tips of your manicured toes and thrown to the floor, “One story? Two?” He asks, back up on his knees.

“Umm, maybe just one,” You answer, sitting up, slipping your hands into the dark sweats still covering his bottom half, “A two story house is too much to keep clean.”

You pull, but not all the way. Just enough to see his hips and that little tuft of dark hair underneath his belly button. You can’t help yourself and lean forward, kissing his stomach, giggling when he jumps a little. When you do it again, kiss him, and then a third time, and a forth, he gives in. Sweeps your locs over your shoulders and pulls them into a ponytail in his hand. That’s when you hook your thumbs back underneath the thick band of his sweats and pull a little harder, pushing the material right over his hard cock, making it bounce.

Chris kicks out of the sweats, grabs your face in his hands and tilts it upward. Leans down and kisses you again— soft. Sweet. All while rubbing small circles into your cheeks with his thumbs. He stays there, forehead to forehead, eyelashes spread over his buttery, quickly blushing red cheeks as you palm him, dragging your hand from the base right to the tip.

It doesn’t take much— never has. After a few strokes, he’s wet and red all over. Chest, neck, cheeks. Mouth agape, pulling in ragged breaths as his eyelids flutter. He swallows hard, and then hums quick, deep and throaty before inhaling through his open mouth. You push upward, kissing him as you continue slow strokes, sweeping a thumb over his wet tip.

Fingertips brush along the inside of your thigh, down low, first by your knee. Then, slowly, they skirt upward, not groping or kneading, just brushing— flirting with your skin until they reach their destination. You gasp, mouth falling open as adept fingers— not only just in general, but with your body specifically— push through wet folds.

“One story it is then,” he breathes, hot, unhurried, “A dog and a,” he slams his eyes shut, hissing and grunting when you squeeze him, “Fuck baby,” he swallows again, lips trembling as he nuzzles in, rubbing the tips of your noses together, “A dog and a cat.”

Your free hand wraps around his neck, fingertips pushing into his hair as your head tips back, hips start to shove forward, eager for his touch— wanting those fingers inside. When Chris obliges, sinks his index and middle finger into your cunt—  touch starved and needy— you mewl. Making a real sound for the first time in seven hundred and twenty seven days. It enlivens you both.

Chris pushes you back, lays you back onto the small mattress, spreads you out. Keeps his fingers inside, pumping slow, curling, massaging. Thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing. He lays between your legs, coming face to face with your most intimate and blows gently. Warm air sticking to balmy flesh. Big blue eyes flick up to yours, then back to your sweet, licking his lips as a squelch fills the room.

His tongue darts out, slips along the inside of your thigh. Your hips react instantly, jutting upward as a sharp breath fills your chest. A long arm pushes up your body, fingers prodding your breast, tweaking a nipple before he palms the skin, but not for long. Within seconds, his fingertips are pushing into a willing mouth. Your tongue, swirling around thick digits as you grab onto his hand, holding it there.

Warm air tickles damp skin again as he blows on you, “Have some babies,” he offers quick, the words muffled by your flesh as he finally laps at you, tongue slipping through sticky folds, flattening against your slit as he massages the delicate, “How many you want, baby?”

Nothing but a bitten-off groan answers him. It comes for many reasons. His fingers somehow delving deeper, lips brushing over your cunt— the thought of babies. Little brown skinned, curly headed babies running in the backyard with that dog and cat. Wide smiles, complete with missing teeth, loud laughter, declarations of love as they jump into mommy and daddy’s arms.

“Oh yeah,” heavy words breathed into your ear, a hunk of man now laying on top of you, cock pressing at your opening, “My pretty girl wants babies,” the wetness makes it easy for him to slide in— all the way in— bury deep, “I’m gonna give them to you. You’ve been so good.”

He’s moving, hips pushing and pulling as he cups your face in his hands, presses his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna fill you up,” he mutters, swollen lips brushing against yours, “Stuff you— full of— my, fuck,” a deep moan, another quick hiss as he bites his bottom lip, overcome by the warmth, the wet— the tight, “Fuck, you feel good.”

Feverish lips are on yours again, teeth nibbling as his hips shove into you. Soft and swift. A palm covering your breast, fingers pressing, kneading and working sensitive, responsive skin. Nipples hardening, heat blooming across an ardent canvas of skin, pulsing hips eager to meet his.

Chris cups your chin, pushes upward so you're forced to keep slitted eyes on him and him only, “You want my babies? Hmm? Tell me baby,” you can only whimper in response, digging your nails into his sides, drawing your legs up and around him as he plunges deep, “Come on honey, use those words. Tell me how much you want my babies.”

He fucks into you hard, jamming his hips just once— the sound of skin on skin slapping out loud and off the walls. It arches your back, the sudden, quick thrust. Sends you right up into his chest. Chris pulls you into his lap as he falls back on his ass, extending his legs, heels digging into the mattress as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and tight, fingers spreading out on your back.

Hips roll into one another. Fingers grip his calf as you lean back, hot, sloppy lips on your chest, over and between bouncing tits. A taut nipple pulled right into his wet mouth. Slippery tongue swirling and flicking, teeth nibbling before he sucks on the tight nub, teasing it further.

Then he’s holding your hips, forcing you down onto his cock. More rushed, sticky words falling from swollen, red lips, “You want me to fill you up? Hmm? Tell me.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, overcome by it all. The emotion of it, the physicality of you and him tangled together— the words, how many years you’ve waited to hear those words.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” he purrs, thrusting harder, faster, “You want me to come in you, don’t you? You’d love it if I came in you, huh? Knocked you up? Gave you a baby?”

You kiss him hard. Cupping his face, moaning sweet into his wet mouth, “I want it,” it’s breathy— desperate, “I want it, Chris. I want it.”

“Then I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you.”

It’s feverish after that. Pushing and pulling. Grunting, smacking— lips on lips, skin on skin. Large hands gripping, fingers pressing into the meat of thighs and calves and ass and tits. His fingers grip the meat of your thighs, your ass, slide up your back— around your neck as your head falls back. Those fingers find your mouth, push just inside as he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling your hips closer, helping them rock.

His fingers are out of your mouth, cupping your cheek now. Smoothing hair out of your face as it strains. You try not to get loud, slam your eyes closed, purse your lips as your toes curl and stomach tightens… heart flutters.

“Oh no,” he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over your closed eyes before prodding at your lips, “Don’t do that, honey. I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that. Come on, let me hear you.”

“No, I—“

“Don’t be modest,” his tone shifts, going stern and deep, and that’s all it really takes for the noise to flow, “I wanna hear you.”

But he knew that.

It’s a sweet little hum, and then a gasp before it’s clipped by an obscenity— a shaky, desperate, filthy word that dissolves away into a loud groan and then… it’s all downhill from there.

You couldn’t hold it in if you tried. It’s been too long. A pent up aggression, a nervous need all finally working its way out of you. You pull him close— crush your chest against his, wrap two liquid arms around his neck, press your face right against his. Chris loops an arm around your waist, squeezing your opposite hip, pressing his fingers right into the soft skin until it hurts.

But it’s good, the pain of the squeeze. It helps you right over the edge, makes you finally cum after seven hundred and twenty seven days. Slow at first. A warmth just taking its time as it spreads. The feeling sort of foreign because it’s been so long— your brain hasn’t caught up just yet.

When it does catch up, brain and body finding each other, dormant synapses kicking on with a jolt, it’s not just a warmth. It’s molten now, searing and stirring, passing through veins and muscles and skin and bone— it’s that deep. Toes curling so hard they go numb, fingertips digging into his shoulders as you throw your head back.

You’re sure the scientists and military guards can hear you three floors down.

Chris leans in, hot, wet, shiny lips pressing against your chest, over your tits with sloppy kisses, hips still churning into yours until they just can’t. Wet walls closing in, clamping down as they spasm, that molten enveloping him. His hips freeze quick with the first spurt, but find a haphazard rhythm as he comes. Fills you up just like he promised.

He pushes those warm blooms of silk deep with now pointed, long strokes. Not a drop escaping— it’s all for you, after all. Supply and demand and all that.

The mattress is a dream beneath you. Inviting and soft as he lays you into it, still rooted deep as he rolls you onto your side. An arm snakes around your hip, a palm and long fingers anchoring in the center of your chest. A hot, flushed cheek presses against yours as lazy wet lips drag along the back of your neck. Languid thrusts at random intervals keeps you gasping as he tucks his knees and thighs into the backs of yours.

“Say it again,” you whisper after a few quiet minutes, breath still heavy, chest still heaving.

Chris plunges into you again, soft and sweet and deep, “Say what, honey?”

“That you won’t,” the words break off, a moan replacing them as he kisses a trail down your arm, fucks into you once, twice, three times, “That you won’t leave me again.”

“I’m not leaving you again.”

-

When you wake up the next morning, that little whiteboard with the days scribbled on it is erased. All it says now?

Day one.

#bad things happen bingo #5k...holy god #chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck x black!reader #chris beck x you #you x chris beck #reader x chris beck #the martian #chris beck fanfiction

[maxburnett]

You're a Sky Full of Stars, Chris Beck AU

- (fem!reader x Chris Beck)

Summary: You're a resident studying under Chief of Pediatrics Dr. Chris Beck. You're also a single mother trying to juggle raising a son with professional and personal life. But what happens when you hear the man you've fallen for say that he doesn't want to be a father?

Warnings: Includes Smut! 18+ Only Minors Do Not Interact! A smidge of Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Abuse (Never goes into details), Mentions of bad parenting, Mentions of an abandoned baby at a hospital, (I suck at summaries) Sorry for any typos I typed this on my phone. Requested by the amazing @buckyblues

Pink Words: Lyrics sung by Reader

Blue Words: Lyrics sung by Chris

Mix of both colors are Reader/Chris singing together

Divider divides each part so that everything doesn't run together.

Word Count: 6,206

It was another morning at Boston Medical Center, but it wasn't a regular morning; Dr. Y/N Y/L/N was running very late for a meeting, and you never ran late for anything. Until today. You stood outside of the meeting room collecting yourself and jumped as you felt a hand touch your shoulder; you turned and smiled nervously up at the surgeon you worked under, the Chief of Pediatrics and Pediatric Surgery, Dr. Chris Beck.

You sat at the table, feeling Chris nudge your side as he slid a coffee in front of you, smiled at him, and whispered thanks before bringing the warm cup up to your lips and sighed as the warm liquid ran down your throat.

He looked at you, taking in how your was in the perfect bun. How you always tapped your fingers on the table as you were deep in thought. He thought it was cute. He wondered what you would feel if you knew he would sometimes sit and stare as you bit at the pen you used to write your surgical notes into your tablet. It wasn't really against the rules to date within the hospital as long as you went through the proper channels, but Chris had been married and went through a bitter divorce a year ago; maybe it wasn't the right time to make a move. Even if he often wanted to take you into his office or one of the on-call rooms and make you beg you to let you cum.

He looked at you, taking in how your was in the perfect bun. How you always tapped your fingers on the table as you were deep in thought. He thought it was cute. He wondered what you would feel if you knew he would sometimes sit and stare as you bit at the pen you used to write your surgical notes into your tablet. It wasn't really against the rules to date within the hospital as long as you went through the proper channels, but Chris had been married and went through a bitter divorce a year ago; maybe it wasn't the right time to make a move. Even if he often wanted to take you into his office or one of the on-call rooms and make you beg you to let you cum.

"Dr. Beck," the Chief of surgery said, and he turned his head to look up at him and nodded his head.

"Yes, Chief?" He asked, smiling up at the older man as he leaned onto a cane.

"Any updates on the baby that was abandoned last month?"

The baby in question, a little girl, was left outside. It had been Chris and Y/N who had heard the frail cry as they ventured out into the chilly February Weather. She was severely underdeveloped, and Chris, Y/N, and the Cardiothoracic surgeon had fixed significant damage to the little girl's heart.

"Olivia," Chris said with a smile. Y/N had decided that the little girl had needed a name. "Olivia is breathing on her own; right now, we are just trying to get her weight up before it's safe to release her to social services," he said and glanced at Y/N as you smiled at the mention of the little girl that you often sat beside and talked to between your rounds.

"All right," the Chief smiled and nodded and handed out the rounds for the days before everyone went their separate ways.

"So Y/N, how was that date the other night?" One of the nurses asked, wiggling her eyebrows as they sat at a table eating their lunch.

"He was good, but he wanted to date," Y/N sighed. You never dated because of your son.

"Yeah, you and your no dating rule. When are you ever going to find love?" She asked you, feeling sorry for you.

"Love is a weakness," you said, looking at the chart beside your food tray.

"I could seriously strangle you right now," she said, making you laugh. "In all seriousness, Y/N, you should find someone to have a relationship with."

Everyone at the table didn't know that you had your reservations about dating. Most men didn't want to date a woman with a four-year-old son, but that wasn't entirely why you didn't want to give your heart to someone else; you had been hurt in the past. Your past three relationships had been trainwrecks, one of the guys cheated on you, one of them used you for your money, and the first one hurt you in ways you didn't even want to think about anymore. You sighed inwardly and shook your head as the girls began to chit-chat quietly beside you.

"What about Chris," one of them said, finally speaking up, and you raise a brow.

"What? You think I should date my Chief?" You ask, nearly choking on the drink of the coffee you had just taken. "No way!"

"Come on; you can't tell me you've never thought about it?"

"No," you say rather quickly. "Absolutely not," you add. Can they see you biting the inside of your cheek?

"Come on! Y/N, he's cute ... he's single," one of the nurses says.

"Who's single?" A voice asks, walking up to the table and sitting down with a turkey sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Nobody," you quickly retort. "The girls are just trying to set me up with someone," you shrug your shoulders and look over at him. His bright blue eyes are staring at you as his lips curve up into a smirk.

"Come on, Y/N, you can't just go on being single forever," he says as he takes a bite of his sandwich. You smirk as you reach and steal a fry off of his plate and plop it into your mouth and look at him.

"I can be single for as long as I want to be," you say before getting up with your clipboard. "Plus, Chris," you say as you look down at him. "I could tell you the same," you said, looking down into the bright blue eyes of the handsome doctor that looked up at you. You turned your head, not to want him and the other nurses to know you were staring.

He had heard your words; maybe you were right? But why couldn't he see that it was you that he wanted to move on with? You were the best with children and babies; he sometimes smiled just watching you talk to the scared young patients that came into the hospital. You had a way to calm down not only the children but the parents. If he hadn't had his reservations, secrets, and personal issues, then maybe he would have asked you out sooner.

Chris had finished his rounds and had placed his chart and tablet back at the station. He had one more place to go and smiled as he headed to the NICU; nobody knew that he had always come here to talk to Olivia. He put some hand sanitizer on his gloved hand, reached into the incubator, and smiled as her tiny fingers wrapped around his.

"Hey there, angel, you're getting so much stronger, baby girl. Yes, you are," he said as he looked down at the tiny baby as she squeezed his index finger. He sat in a chair and smiled as he moved to check her heart with his stethoscope and smile as she winced a little at the cold feeling. "Sorry about that angel," he smiled and closed his eyes, hearing the little girl's heart beating strongly in his ears. He looked in at her and smiled as he studied her little face, her blue eyes looking up at him as she squeezed his finger again, her tiny mouth opening as she yawned.

"You know you're going to find a great family one day," he said, looking at her. "I didn't have a great family ... but my mom did what she could to make sure I turned out all right," he whispered as if Olivia could understand him.

He wondered if he would even be a good dad; after all, his dad treated him and his mom horribly; he closed his eyes and jumped a little as the door opened, and Y/N came in with your chart; Olivia was always your last round of the night. You'd never seen Chris in here, so you were a bit taken aback. You checked her vitals on the other side, not bothering him as you smiled as Olivia winced again at another cold stethoscope, and Chris chuckled lightly and placed the other gloved hand into the hole on his side to gently stroke the blue-eyed baby's hair.

"We promise we'll start warming them up, bug," he said, and Olivia turned her head, and he could've sworn she smiled up at him.

"You're so good with kids, Chris," Y/N said, putting your stethoscope around your neck and put your head sideways to study Chris. He looked tired, yet he was sitting here talking to a baby. "So, do you want kids, or do you have kids?"

"No ... I just don't think kids are for me," he shrugged. "That's why my wife and I got divorced; she wanted them, and I didn't. I've just got nieces and nephews," he said, looking up at you, and slowly, he pulled his hands out of the incubator.

You inwardly sighed, your teeth nipping at your lip at the answer to the question. You had a four-year-old son at home; how could you date a man who wasn't sure if he wanted children.

"I see," you say, smiling at him and writing down the results of everything you needed into the chart on your tablet. You turn to face the door.

"Hey, Y/N," Chris says, and you turn to look back at him.

"You know if you're not busy, uh," he runs a hand up the back of his head and stands up, walking to where you were. The two of you walk out of the NICU, and you face him as the automatic sliding doors close. He's rubbing his neck nervously, trying to find the words.

"What are you trying to ask Chris?" You smirk up at him.

"If you're not busy this Friday. We could go grab a few drinks at the bar across the street?"

"Wait, are you asking me out?" You ask, your eyebrows raising as you look at him.

"Yeah, I guess I'm saying that," he laughs and smiles at you.

"Sure ... I just need to take care of some things at home before I can get to the bar, but that sounds okay," you say, and you're biting the inside of your lip again. "I'll meet you there?"

"All right, what about 7:00?"

"Sounds good to me," you say and watch him walk down the hallway before you blink and pinch your arm to make sure this isn't some weird dream you're having. You shake your head and head to grab your bag, and you head out to your car and head home to let the babysitter who watched Oliver in the evening go home. You stand by his door, looking in at him sound asleep on the bed, holding his stuffed Dinosaur close to him. You head in and kiss his head and make sure he was tucked in before turning on his night light and heading to bed.

Chris had prepped for the date carefully. He hadn't been out on a date in years. He felt like it had been a different life, a different lifetime even. He had made a mental note that if the date went well, if they chose to venture forward with whatever the universe deemed this to be, that he would take you out on a proper date the next time: an early dinner, the museum, a walk through the park under the stars.

He had gotten to the bar around 6:30, looked down at his phone, he typed in your name to pull your contacts up. He bit his lip, his stomach getting small butterflies as he wondered what you would be wearing; what if you just stood him up. He shook his head and sighed as he began to type into his phone.

"Hey, I'm here. The table near the stage."

Chris looked up towards the Karaoke Bar and smiled as he sat his phone down. He ordered water just to have something to sip on as he studied the bar looking around at all the people, it seemed a little dead, but maybe that would be a good thing. His foot tapped the floor under the table nervously. He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked towards the door as it opened up, and the breath had caught in his throat.

You walked in, and he could've sworn his heart had jumped out of his chest. He watched as you walked towards the table. You had on strappy heels, a black polka dot skirt, and a black lacy shirt with a short leather jacket. Everything hugged you perfectly, and he had to lick his lips. He stood up and pulled the chair out for you, letting you sit down before he pulled the chair closer.

"You look... uh, you look amazing," he said and smiled as he looked at you. His face was turning red. You could even see it under the dull bar lighting.

"Oh My God! Chris, you're blushing," you say and smile at him.

"Hey, I haven't done this in quite some time. I'm a little rusty. Yeah?" He chuckled and smiled as he waved a waitress over and ordered some food and a couple of beers. The two of you sat talking about work, Olivia, and then the conversation of past relationships came up. Chris could sense that you were getting uncomfortable about something, so he smiled and placed a hand over yours and slid a little closer and placed a hand to your face, and gently ran his fingers down your cheek. You thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to kiss you, but instead, he eyed the Karaoke bar, and a smirk appeared on his face. He smiled and stood up, offering his hand, and you reluctantly took it, not knowing what he had planned. He walked over towards the bar and pressed a few buttons before handing you one of the microphones; you were glad that they were the kind that you could put around your head with the microphone part in front of your mouth.

Something was comforting in the way he held your hand, his finger running around your thumb in the softest way. He looked at you, and your heart fluttered as the two of you waiting for the music to begin to play. You had to admit. You never had in your life felt like this for a man or anyone else for that matter.

"Now this song, I know you will know," he smirked close to your ear. "After all, you told me this was in one of your favorite movies," he winked, and you raised a brow and looked at him and smiled as the music for Time of My Life Began to play. You giggled into the microphone as he took both of your hands and pulled you closer and laughed as he began to sing.

Now I've had the time of my life

No, I never felt like this before

Yes, I swear it's the truth

And I owe it all to you

You smiled from ear to ear as you listened to him sing, he was horrible, but the way he looked at you and sung just to you made your insides turn to goo. You gripped his hands and giggled, the giggle filling the bar making the others smile and watch the two of you. You didn't know; some hospital nurses were there and were smiling from ear to ear.

Cause I've had the time of my life

And I owe it all to you

When the music kicked in, you giggled as he turned you around with his arm and began to dance with you. He was a better dancer than a singer, that was for sure. You giggle as the two of you danced together, moving closer and moving against him as the music continued to play before the vocals started back up.

I've been waiting for so long

Now I've finally found someone

To stand by me

We saw the writing on the wall

As we felt this magical

Fantasy

Now with passion in our eyes

There's no way we could disguise it

Secretly

So we take each other's hand

'Cause we seem to understand

The urgency

Just Remeber!

You're the one thing

I can't get enough of

So I'll tell you something

This could be love because

I've had the time of my life

No, I never felt this way before

Yes, I swear it's the truth

And I owe it all to you

You and Chris sung the rest of the song, ending up close to each other, eyes locked and lips close together. However, the sound of the bar cheering broke the grip the two of you had on one another, and he took your hand and walked back to the table. He looked at his watch and over to you and pulled his coat on.

"Come on, I want to show you something," he said with a smile and wrapped his arm around your waist. You lean into him, not caring that the bar was watching you walk out together. He smiled as the two of you walked down the sidewalk towards the park, and you leaned into him, sighing. He stopped walking and smirked at you as he leaned down and lifted one of your feet. He removed a heel and then did the same with the other.

Walking with your heels in one hand, he held your other hand with his free one and smiled at you. "Almost there," he said, and you laughed as he walked you over to the park and the swings. He stood in front of you, holding both of the chains as he smiles and looks into your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours, again you thought he was going to kiss you; but instead, he began to giggle as he stepped back and pulled the chains twisting them causing you to spin around on the swing, making you dizzy. He laughed as you stood up chasing after him, and due to your dizziness, you fell into him, causing you both to fall to the ground, which caused you to erupt into a fit of laughter. He pulled you close, your head resting onto his chest as his hand closed around yours, and he pulled it up to his chest. You looked up at him and smiled as you leaned and kissed his cheek. He smiled down at you, took your hand, and pointed it up to the sky. He told you the constellations. He showed you the north star, and he pointed out Orion's belt.

You looked up at Chris after pulling away from the kiss and took in a deep breath as his eyes locked with yours. He leaned in closer and placed his lips against your cheek. It's so soft, but it sends a shiver through you.

"Y/N," he murmurs against your cheek. "If you want me to stop, tell me," he whispers.

You shake your head and say nothing. His face moves and his nose grazes yours as he brings his lips closer, and he smiles; you smile, taking in how his nose scrunches and lines form beside his eyes.

"And now?" He murmurs as his lips delicately fall against yours.

"Or...," you reach up and pull him flush against you, and the rest of his words are muffled against his mouth. You ball up his shirt into your fists, and he smiles as he deepens the kiss and groans against your soft lips. He circles his arms around you, holding you as close as he possibly can, and pulls slowly to lean his forehead against yours.

After parting from the kiss, there was one thing that you were sure of. On that chilly fall night, you fell in love under the stars. There was one thing you weren't sure of. You didn't know which shone brighter, his eyes or the stars.

It hurt Y/N to have to pull away from him to head home, but your babysitter only had another 30 minutes. He walked you back to your car and smiled as he leaned down and placed your heels back onto your feet and looked up at you as he placed a gentle kiss on your hand before he stood up.

"Date next Friday?" Y/N asked and smiled as Chris pressed a quick kiss to your lips and nodded.

"Only if we can make it proper and you let me pick you up at your place?" You smiled and texted him your address and leaned and kissed him quickly one more time and smiled as he shut your door and watched as you pulled out of the parking spot.

He had kept his mental promise to himself and had taken you to a nice dinner, the museum, and you had ended up at the park again. You laid in his arms, looking up at the sky and studying the stars. You had gotten a babysitter who could stay overnight, just in case you wanted things to go farther.

He held your hand as it rested on his chest, and he moved and looked down at you and smiled as he kissed your forehead. His eyes locked with yours and his lips were on yours again. His lips were like poison on your lips, numbing and intoxicating. You'd stolen some kisses here and there at work, he'd sent you flowers and left you post-it notes on your rotations, and you found it endearing.

"I want you more than you'll ever know," Chris murmured as he leaned in and kissed you. "Come home with me?" He murmurs and pulls away to look down at you. You nod your head and smiles as he lifts you off of the ground carrying you to his car, kissing you as he's walking.

The drive home was only a few minutes, but for both Chris and Y/N, it felt like it was taking forever.

"I want you so bad," Chris groaned as he slipped off your coat and laid it on the chair he liked to read in. Exposing the exquisite sight of the tight dress that you had been wearing earlier.

"Yeah?" Y/N asked as your nose nudged against his, and Chris nudged right back.

"Yeah," he smiled.

They were both breathless by the time Chris' bedroom door opened, from the kissing and the way that Chris had slammed your back against the hallway wall as he tried to get the door opened while your arms were around his neck and your legs around his waist.

"Make love to me," Y/N breathed against his mouth. You groaned as you tugged Chris's bottom lip between your teeth.

He sat you on the edge of his bed and kissed you before he began to take great care in removing your dress. He marked your skin with his lips, leaving you little reminders for the next day. He got the dress removed, and you reached to tug his shirt over his head as he peppered kisses down your neck to your breasts.

You look up at him, your hand moving down his chest and then stopping at the waistband of his pants. You unzip his zipper and push his pants down and groan as he pushes his boxer briefs down with them. He springs out, and you wrap your hand around his erect cock.

"Fuck, baby," Chris hisses as your hand grasped him at the base. He was hard, painfully hard, but the slow twisting of your hand alleviated the tension. You swiped your thumb over the tip of cock, and you smirked as Chris moaned. Chris laid above you, sucking on your breast as you gently stroked his cock. Soon you removed your hand and pulled his head up to your face so you could kiss him. You could feel his cock resting against the inside of your thigh, and Y/N knew you needed to feel him inside you.

"Do we need a--" he said and looked down into your eyes and felt you pull his face back to yours, kissing him deeply.

"M on the pill," you murmured into his lips. "Need you now, baby," you murmured.

Chris had to bite his lip at the sound of your voice. He pulled your panties down, and a whimpered moan escaped his lips as he felt how dripping wet Y/N was.

"If you feel uncomfortable at any moment, we can-," Y/N put a finger to Chris's lips, and Y/N grabbed him and aligned him up to your slick entrance. Chris groaned as he pushed in, holding your hips close, and kissed you hungrily. They moved together in perfect sync, lips meeting every few moments as they groaned each other's names into each other's mouths. Chris took in how Y/N felt beneath him. Your sweat-slicked skin, how your chest and back rose and fell as you breathed, and how you moved your hips in desperation to meet his. This felt so perfect. Sex had never felt like this with anyone else.

"I'm close," you whimpered and wrapped your arms around him. Chris moaned and captured your lips in another kiss. He felt you contracting around his cock, and he pushed in frantically and groaned your name as they came together. He stayed inside of you for a few moments, lips lazily kissing your shoulder before he pulled out and pulled you against him.

"Can you stay?" He murmured, and you smiled as you nodded your head and kissed him lazily. "I might have to leave before you wake up," you murmured and buried your head into his neck.

"It's fine," he said, feeling his eyes already growing heavy. "Y/N," he murmured close to sleep. "I'm glad I waited for you," he said, kissing you lazily before he let sleep take over.

Like you had said the night before, you were gone when he awoke, but you had made his coffee and had left him a note on his coffee mug. Chris awoke the following day, he was hoping you'd still be there, but he figured you had some plans. He headed to the kitchen and smiled as he read the note on the mug and then fixed a cup of coffee.

He couldn't wait to see you later; he couldn't wait to wrap his arms around you and kiss you; if you still wanted to keep things secret, he would kiss you like he had been kissing you. Little stolen kisses in the on-call room, quick little kisses as they both talked to Olivia. He hadn't thought that he would be able to move on after his divorce, he sighed as he thought about his wife. She had wanted children, and he just didn't think he would be cut out to be a father.

A couple of weeks had passed since Chris and Y/N had slept together. People around the hospital were now finding out about their relationship. They felt like things were going well. The only problem was that Y/N was terrified of him finding out that you had a four-year-old son.

The night before, as you had laid on your side half asleep, you had heard him saying that he loved you. You weren't sure if he was asleep or awake. You weren't sure if you had imagined it.

But you felt it too. You had felt it since that first night that he had shown you the stars. The night that he had made you feel like the center of the universe, you were the moon; you were his moon.

You had awoken that morning in Chris' bed to find him already gone for work. You were off that day and had planned on spending it with Oliver. You headed to the shower and smiled as you used Chris's body wash, liking how your body ended up smelling like him. As you dried your hair and changed into clean clothes that you had begun to keep at Chris' place for their Friday dates, your phone rang, and your frantic babysitter was on the other end of the phone, Oliver crying in the background.

"Y/N. I'm sorry, but I walked inside to get him a jacket, and he climbed up into that tree in the back, and then I heard him screaming and crying," she said quickly. "He fell out of the tree, and his arm's broken. We're in the waiting room of the hospital waiting," she said into the phone. "We're not at Boston Memorial. The ambulance brought him to Boston Children's Hospital," the babysitter made sure to note.

"I'm on my way," you said as you hurried out to your car in Chris' driveway. What you didn't expect was for there to be a ton of traffic.

Chris walked out to the waiting room with one of the orthopedic residents. He held a chart and looked down at the name and then over towards the babysitter. "Oliver Y/L/N?" he asked, and the babysitter nodded and held her hand out to Oliver, who looked up at her. "I want my mommy," he said and looked around. "I want my mommy," he said and looked up at Chris as Chris leaned in front of him.

"Hey Oliver," he said, looking at the little boy. "I'm sure your mommy's gonna be here as soon as she can, yeah?" he asked, and Oliver nodded his head and looked at Chris as Chris took out a little stuffed teddy bear that he kept in his pocket and held it out to the little boy. "In the meantime, why don't you hold this? He has magical powers. He'll make you brave, and he'll keep you safe until your mommy gets here, okay?" he asked, and Oliver nodded his head and reached for Chris' hand.

"Will you stay with me until my mommy gets here?" Oliver asked as he clasped his little hand into Chris's.

"Of course I will," he smiled. "We have to take you to this magical room that's going to take a picture of your bones. I'll be right by your side," he said, walking the little boy back through the double doors.

Chris walked in, placed the protective suit on, and stood beside Oliver as they took all of the X-Rays.

They took him to a room, and as promised, Chris sat with him right on the bed beside him, letting Oliver watch Cartoons on his phone. The little boy had fallen asleep, his tiny arm in a cast as his head laid against Chris' that rested on the mattress of the bed.

"His mom is in traffic," the babysitter said and looked up at Chris. "She says she's just a few minutes away," she smiled up at Chris.

"If you need to leave, it's fine," Chris smiled. "My rounds here are over. I can sit with him until his mom gets here," he said as he smiled down at Oliver and ran his hand over the little boy's head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course, just let his mom know which room's he's in," he nodded and looked down at the little boy who still held tightly to the bear he had given him.

The babysitter nodded and walked out of the room and towards the elevator. She headed down to the Lobby just as Y/N had walked in.

"Hey, he's on the 6th floor, room 616. The doctor's sitting with him," she said and smiled as Y/N hugged her. "I'm sorry again,"

"It's okay," Y/N said as you headed towards the elevator.

Y/N could have sworn that the elevator ride up to the 6th floor was taking forever. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you watched the floor numbers count up from LobbyLobby to 6th Floor. When the door finally dinged, you stepped out, headed to the right door with the correct door number, pushed it opened, and stepped inside.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when you saw Chris, your Chris sitting beside your son.

"Hey." You say, and Chris' head turns slowly, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek as he looks up at you, eyes big.

"Hey." He whispers back, looking over you. He stands slowly and runs a hand up the back of his neck.

"Is he o-okay?" You say, stumbling over the words a little.

"Y/N," he says, stepping closer to you. He takes his hand and lifts your chin. You look up at him and bite your lip as he places both hands on each of your cheeks. You feel like crying as you take in the way he looks at you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He finally asks, his fingers running over your soft skin.

"Chris," you whisper, looking over at your son sleeping soundly. You see that there's an IV running into his arm, and you gather it's probably something for pain. "You said kids aren't for you, and I just didn't know how to bring him up," he breathes in, and he leans his head against yours.

"I didn't have a good upbringing," he whispers simply and closes his eyes, and you wipe a tear that falls down his cheek. Whatever he was holding in was something he didn't talk about because his hands are trembling. "Let's just say my dad ... he wasn't a good man," he said simply. "I'm scared ... terrified that ..."

"Chris, you're not your dad," you say as you cup his face. "You're the best man I've ever met in my life. You complete everything about me, and if this scares you, I know it's something you didn't expect, but that little boy is my world," you smile and look over at your son as he holds the teddy bear that Chris always had in his pocket.

"And about what you said last night," you say as Chris wraps his arm around your waist. "I love you too." He smiles and presses his lips against yours, and you smile as he looks into your blue eyes.

"Mommy, why are you kissing the doctor?" A little voice says from the side of the two of you. Y/N laughs into Chris' lips before turning slowly to look at your son. You walked over to him and leaned down to kiss his head.

"Your Mommy and I are girlfriend and boyfriend, and she just told me that she loves me very much. What do you think of that?"

"I think that you should kiss her again," Oliver giggles and covers his little eyes with his hand that wasn't in the cast with his broken arm.

"Is that so?" Chris asks and smiles down at Oliver. He was still scared, scared that he would lose Y/N, but damn it, he was going to try to hold onto everything that came with dating you and being the best man that he could be for both you and Oliver.

"Yeah!" Oliver said, his hand over his eyes and a big smile. "Kiss her!"

Chris and Y/N laughed as they leaned into each other placing their lips to each other's, and smiled against each other's lips as Oliver laughed beside them.

3 Months Later

You rolled onto your side and felt the empty bed beside you, hoping to move into Chris. He wasn't there. You sat up and smiled as you reached over onto your nightstand, grabbing the baby monitor that sat there. You saw him in the nursery walking back and forth, cradling their baby girl against his chest. You turned up the volume on the monitor and smiled as you heard him softly humming a song to her, her precious little giggles filling the room as she looked up at him from her spot on his chest.

He was terrific. You wondered why he ever doubted himself in the first place. He had shown you what real love was, he had shown Oliver what a father was, and he gave that little girl more love than anyone ever could have dreamed of.

"Come on, my sweet little Liv," he said, kissing her head as he laid her into the crib. "Need to get your sleep," he said and ran a hand over her face as she smiled up at him as he started the baby mobile before heading back to bed to lay beside you. You couldn't help but roll over to lay on top of him, your lips hitting his and a giggle escaping your lips as he rolled you over. He pulls your shirt up, his lips kissing down to your tummy where he places tiny kisses, and he rests his head down and whispers sweet nothings against your small bump.

"I love you to the moon and back, little one," He looks up at you and smiles. "And I love you my sky full of stars,"

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[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4722 Warnings: fluff, light angst, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

PART 1

In the months that passed Chris had been able to keep up on email with a bit more regularity though it still took some time in between messages. Video calls were less frequent but you still had them. You stood back from your laptop and faced sideways, lifting your shirt to reveal the protrusion of your growing belly. 

His smile was bittersweet, wishing he could be there in person to watch you grow, to feel when the baby starts kicking. You were having a boy and decided to name him Oliver. After you first spoke Chris waited for you to tell your family first before he told his over email, and you followed up with a visit to see them.

His parents, Michael and Lori, were so happy to see you again. They always knew you and Chris were close but now with a grandchild on the way they were thrilled. Along with your parents they offered help immediately, everyone overwhelming you with to-do lists and essential shopping you hadn’t thought about at that point.

“My dad’s going to help make the storage room a nursery.”

Your apartment was technically a one bedroom but there was a small room adjacent to yours you’ve been using as extra space to hold anything random you couldn’t find a spot for anywhere else. It was on the narrow side and currently overcrowded with junk, not the most picturesque nursery but it would have to do for now, as soon as you get rid of things to make space. 

“I wish I was there to help you,” he sighed, not speaking solely about helping you clean. “We’ll be descending for Mars soon so I won’t be able to keep in touch until we get back on the Hermes.” 

You understood. Chris would be there for about a month and you assumed it would take a little longer to hear back from him once they got back on board to begin their journey back. 

It was an unassuming morning at home. You were trying to find a comfortable position on your couch, adjusting the cushion you bought for extra support. You’re tired, finding it harder to fall asleep comfortably with a bigger belly. At 24 weeks your baby was apparently practicing to be a soccer player, his kicks growing stronger every day. You loved this part of pregnancy but you also couldn’t deny how terrible you felt. Your feet started swelling, your skin was itchy and you thought you were going crazy every time you tried to read but the words were blurring. Changes were expected but not in the way you always thought. 

A news report breaks on TV, a red banner that flashes words that have your heart beating rapidly – ARES III ASTRONAUTS COMING HOME. Tears flood your eyes as you hear the news, Mark Watney is dead. Nausea washes over your body in waves and you clutch your stomach, forgetting to breathe until you hear that Chris was safe. You exhale with relief though your heart aches for the crew and Mark’s family. You rubbed your belly in gentle circles, speaking softly to let Oliver know that Daddy was alright and he was coming home. 

It was late December when Chris finally had a chance to call you. Tears glisten in his eyes as he sees you, thanking you for the picture you emailed him from your latest sonogram. The 3D technology showed a clear picture of Oliver’s sweet face and Chris longed to meet him. Your belly had grown as well, with less than three months to go before your due date. 

The nursery was complete and you really owed a lot to your family and Chris’ for helping it come together. Chloe arranged a baby shower which helped fill the nursery with everything you needed, from drawers full of diapers to a wardrobe of clothes, a lot of space themed outfits you couldn’t wait to send Chris pictures of. 

Though you were overjoyed at everyone being there it was hard to keep up a smile. Everyone knew the situation and there was no way getting around the fact that he wouldn’t be home for another year. Still you pushed on and tried not to dwell on what you couldn’t change.

“Wow,” Chris marveled as you showed him your bump. “You’re so much bigger since I last saw you.” The flat, unamused expression you shot Chris made him quickly stutter on his words. “I meant your bump, it’s… you look beautiful, I promise.” You smiled a little, trusting him even if you didn’t quite believe it all the time. 

Catching up came to a halt when Chris began to open up about what happened. You knew it was coming. It was ubiquitous in the news cycle but hearing it from Chris directly made your stomach churn. You wished you could be there, to wipe away his tears and hold him close as he mourned for his friend. You wished even more that you could tell him the truth… Mark was alive. 

You received communication from NASA just before the public learned about it though you were specifically instructed not to tell Chris about the information. According to them the crew needed to focus on their mission home and honestly you thought it was a bunch of bullshit. You felt nauseous the whole time speaking to Chris, trying to hide the truth you so desperately wanted to tell him. Lying was not something you and Chris ever did to each other and every second you held your tongue felt like you were betraying all the years of your friendship. 

When the call ended you shut your laptop, hanging your head low and breaking down into tears. It was a deep, messy faced cry with guttural sobs. You were crying for everything. For Mark, mistakenly left to die on a planet of isolation, for Chris and lying to his face, for Oliver who can’t have his father around like you wanted him to be.

As time went on you felt better, emailing and speaking to Chris whenever he could. It’s February and your heart feels lighter as you await the video connection. You try not to get sentimental with Valentine’s Day having just passed. You and Chris are not anything officially, just two adults who have known each other their whole lives having a baby… but the idea doesn’t scare you. 

You think back to your thirtieth birthday and what would have happened if you were single. Would Chris have mentioned the promise? It’s a silly thought. He was so busy with his career he probably wouldn’t have gone through with it but you can’t help thinking about the “what if.” And now you were single, single and pregnant with his child, so what if…

Your thoughts are cut off immediately when you actually see Chris. His eyes were rimmed red, eyes glistening with tears that made the tiny red veins scattered across the whites of his eyes look like they were bleeding.

“Mark is alive,” his voice shuddered through a heaving sob. 

Your mouth dropped open as you listened in shock. How does he know? 

Chris rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, eyes squeezing tight as he exhaled another heavy sigh. “I’m the one that called it, did you know that? I told Commander Lewis he was dead and they knew…” 

His words dropped, his voice failing to speak but Chris’ grief turned to anger just as quickly. “They knew… they knew for two goddamn months that he was alive! Do you know how that feels?”

Your heart was breaking for him even more and there was nothing you could do but offer words of comfort as he vented. “Chris I’m so sorry. Who told you?”

“Mitch Henderson, our flight director, he– wait.” Chris’ body stiffened, eyes narrowing at the screen. “What do you mean who? Did… did you know?”

You dropped your head in shame, unable to answer him in words.

“You knew? Y/N look at me!” he shouted. 

Your head snapped up to see Chris’ nostrils flaring, jaw clenched tight. “You knew my friend was alive and you didn’t tell me?” he grit through his teeth, anger burning hotter than the sun. 

“I’m sorry Chris, I couldn’t.” 

He scoffed, cutting off your explanation. His tone raised to a level he’s never taken with you before. “You couldn’t what, Y/N? You looked me in the eye and lied to me about everything!”

Though Chris may have been justified in his anger it shouldn't have been directed at you. Just as quickly you retorted, “I’m not the only one Chris! Everyone knows, your parents, Chloe; this isn’t on me. NASA told us not to say anything to distract you.”

“Oh but telling me you’re pregnant wasn’t a distraction?” he snapped.

Chris knew he made a mistake but it was too late, the words came out and he couldn’t take them back. He watched you sink in your chair, your lips beginning to quiver. You dropped your head down to hide the tears but he could see them leaving wet puddles on the fabric of your shirt. 

He was upset, feeling guilty about leaving Mark stranded even though he knows there was nothing he could have done. His biometer was damaged, he thought… they all thought he was dead and if they didn’t leave they’d all have died too. There was nothing he could do to change the past but this isn’t what he wanted. 

Chris was angry and frustrated with everything. He wanted his friend to be safe on the Hermes, he wanted this mission to be over, he wanted… to be with you. You were due in three weeks and the closer the date got the more he hated being up in space when all he wanted was to be by your side. 

“Y/N… Y/N please… I’m sorry,” he sniffled, wiping away fresh tears that began to fall. “I didn’t mean to take this out on you… please…”

Tears still fell as you lifted your head slowly towards the screen to find Chris looking just as upset as you were. You cleared your throat, wiping the wetness away from your cheek as you spoke, “If you don’t want to do this–”

“No!” he cut you off immediately, “Y/N please, I was wrong. I was upset and I didn’t mean that. I want this more than anything. I’m sorry.”

The sincerity was clear in the depths of his eyes, staring at you as if he was unworthy of your gaze. You took a moment to think of what he’s going through; the world had time to process everything that was happening with Mark but for Chris this was new and upsetting and you understood.

“I’m sorry too. I never wanted to lie to you.”

“Stop, you don’t have to apologize, I was an asshole.” Chris immediately stops your protests and you let him, feeling yourself smile again the longer you continue to speak. “I miss you a lot, do you know that?” His smile returned as he spoke, asking how you were feeling with your upcoming due date.

Your smile stretches wider across your face. “I miss you too. I’m…” The smile curbs a bit as you let out a sigh. “I’m nervous honestly, excited but scared I guess, I don’t know. I know it’s unrealistic and maybe even a bit selfish to say but I feel like if you were here I’d be a lot better.”

He apologizes again though you find yourself doing the same, not meaning to add to the guilt he already lives with. “I wish I could be there but I know you’re going to get through it, and Oliver already has the best mom in the world.” 

Your mouth gasped open and you placed your hand on your bump. “He just kicked when you said that, I’m not even kidding!” 

“See, it’s true,” he grinned widely. 

There was a faint noise in the background and you saw Chris looking off to the side. When he turned back to face the screen you could tell by the tension in his face that he was needed for something. 

“I have to go now, but… I love you Y/N.”

Though you’ve heard those words so many times before and have spoken them yourself, this time they felt different. You wondered if he meant to put that new emotion behind it and if you felt the same.

There wasn’t much time to ponder these thoughts as two weeks later you were in the hospital, with your mom and Chloe by your side getting you through labor. It was an excruciating ordeal with contractions that were so intense you were in tears. They helped you breathe through them, letting you squeeze their hands as you received an epidural and finally a few hours later it was time to push. Chloe recorded the birth over your shoulder for Chris and with a strangled cry Oliver came into the world. 

Tears of joy ran down your cheeks as you held him against you. He was beautiful and you could see so much of Chris in him already. A bittersweet sob wracked through you, wishing he was there. 

Chris called the whole crew in to see photos of Oliver as he opened his email. There were a ton, his family making sure they took pictures from every angle. There were close ups of his little toes, pictures of him sleeping and Chris’ favorites of you holding him.

“Congratulations Beck!” “Welcome to fatherhood.” “He’s beautiful.” 

Chris saved some things for himself like Oliver’s birth and a special message you sent him. The phone was held out in front of you, the unforgiving hospital lights showing off how tired you looked but to Chris you were beautiful and shining as bright as the stars.

“We did it.” Your voice was soft and strained, but you still pushed on to speak to him. The camera flipped towards the bassinet beside your bed with Oliver sleeping peacefully. “Say hi to Daddy,” you whispered softly. There were a few moments of silence watching him sleep, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle as Oliver’s mouth twitched. “I can’t wait for you to meet him Chris,” the camera flipped around again, “I know you’re going to be an amazing father. I love you so much.” 

When the video ended Chris couldn’t help but kiss the screen, wishing it was your lips that his were pressed against. He’s eagerly counting the days and soon enough he would be.

Chris sat uncomfortably in his chair, elbow resting on the glossy white table as his hand covers his mouth, hiding the worry and tension of his lips. He feels like he swallowed a bag of rocks, his stomach is tense and tight, cramping in all the worst ways. He tried to hide it, shifting in his chair as he listens to his Commander lay out a plan to save Mark.

It goes directly against NASA’s orders and he’s not sure what the consequences would be for mutiny but he doesn’t care about that, not if it means they can rescue their friend.

“...If we do everything perfectly we add 533 days to our mission, 533 more days before we see our families again, 533 days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong.. If it’s mission critical, we die.”

He shifts again, his stomach twisting in all directions as he ponders what to do. He missed your pregnancy, Oliver’s birth. He could be home in six months and his heart swells at the thought. He is ready to happily spend his nights changing diapers and preparing bottles, bonding with his son and allowing you the sleep you need. 

Chris’ shoulders slump. He doesn’t know much about fatherhood but he does know he wants to be someone Oliver could look up to and he wouldn’t be that person if he didn’t stay true to his heart and make a tough decision. 

“Well, it has to be unanimous,” Commander Lewis said, scanning her head to lock eyes with each member of the crew. 

It would be another year and a half before Chris saw you and Oliver and the thought hurts him deeply but he knows it’s for the best. “Let’s go get him,” he said, his voice wavering between excitement and trepidation. He knew this was right and he hoped you would believe him. 

Once the Hermes corrected their course it was official and NASA knew they would have to send them the resupply probe for their extended mission. Now all Chris had to do was tell you.

It was hard to watch the tears stream down your face as you broke down, you weren’t even able to wipe them with Oliver sleeping in your arms. Chris is crying too, looking at the sweet face of the son he has to wait even longer to meet. You know why he’s doing this and you can’t exactly be mad at him. Even growing up Chris was always the person to do the right thing no matter the consequence. 

“Y/N… if anything happens…”

“No!” you cut him off, letting out your anguish as softly as you could so you didn’t disturb Oliver. “Chris, don’t say that.” Your eyes pleaded with him, hating that he made you even consider the worst.

“Please, if anything happens I want you to know that you and Oliver…” His voice gives out, even Chris has a hard time accepting a very possible reality. “I made sure you’ll be taken care of.” 

He stared straight through you and you understood what he meant. Adjusting your grip on Oliver, you quickly wiped the wetness from your cheek and rubbed at your nose. “You have to come back to us, promise me.”

“I promise,” he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wants to keep his promise but it’s not something he can guarantee. Oliver stirs in your arms, his face twisting as he lets out a piercing cry as if he also knew the stakes at hand.

You soothe your son as best as you could, feeling he needed a diaper change. Before saying goodbye you looked into Chris’ eyes through the screen, wishing you could reach out and cup his cheek as you proclaimed, “I love you, Chris.” You meant every word, more than ever before. 

His cheeks pulled into a warm smile as he said it back. The screen goes dark and he sits quietly starting his countdown over for the day he can say it to you again in person.

A year has passed and you’re sitting on the floor with Oliver in your lap, holding a book out in front of you. This was your nightly routine before bed, letting him pick out a story from his little shelf against the wall and reading it together. He was very interested at this age, helping you turn the pages or pointing at the pictures that you would describe and try to get him to repeat.

He’s grown so much and every day you find more ways he looks like Chris, especially when he scrunches his nose, putting up a fuss when eating bananas. 

Oliver’s first birthday was two months ago, it was a small party at Chris’ parents house filled with cake and presents but the best gift was that Chris was able to call in. You cried immediately, holding Oliver up to the screen and pointing at Chris. “Dada! Look Oliver it’s Dada!”

There were pictures of Chris in your house and every time you passed them you would show Oliver, hoping the connection would eventually sink in. Oliver grinned at the screen showing off four tiny teeth in the center of his smile. “Oliver it’s Daddy!” Chris said, waving his hands. “Hey buddy. I love you Oliver. I’ll see you soon.” 

It didn’t feel real that Chris was actually coming home this year since he’s been gone for so long. You’ve been keeping in touch, emailing him as many pictures and videos of Oliver as you could. Everyone loved the professional shots taken when he was six months old, dressed in pajamas printed with planets on them, holding a bottle shaped like a spaceship. In others he was dressed as an astronaut tethered to a bright and colorful rocketship laying against a starry background made to look like he was floating in space, just like his Dad.

With Oliver in bed you went to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat though you could barely focus. You were on edge, watching the live stream of Mark Watney’s rescue on your phone. 

Your head lifted to the TV as you waited like the rest of the world, watching the rescue in real time. It took an hour before there was confirmation that Mark was safely on board and the relief brought tears to your eyes. The whole world was celebrating and you couldn’t imagine how happy Chris and his crew were to get him back and soon enough Chris would be home too.

While some people were opening up presents on Christmas morning you were opening suitcases and getting ready to pack things for yourself and Oliver to fly to Houston to see Chris. The crew landed two days ago and seeing footage of him being pulled from the capsule brought tears to your eyes. You pointed to the screen for Oliver, “Who’s that? That’s…” 

His face lit up, his little hand slapping at the screen as his squeaky voice said, “It’s Daddy!”

“That’s right. Good job!” you beamed, planting a kiss to his soft cheek.

Oliver did a lot of growing up in the last year. He was a few months shy of two, a little ball of energy that brought smiles everywhere he went. He was playful and kind, he loved to splash bubbles during bathtime, and wiggle his body to music. 

Chris was able to see his emerging personality whenever you spoke to each other. Oliver was shy at first and a little confused, looking back at you instead of the screen as Chris was trying to talk to him. It took a lot of patience but you got there, pointing at Chris and saying “It’s Daddy!” enough times for Oliver to finally recognize him. Chris would smile and wave, calling him his little buddy and Oliver waved back. He was hesitant at first but regular video calls normalized their relationship and soon Oliver would press his lips to your laptop, leaving a big wet kiss on the screen meant for his Dad. 

It was hard knowing Chris was back on Earth but you couldn't see him yet. He was undergoing physical evaluations and you were certain more testing would be necessary in the future considering he and the Ares III crew have set a record, spending nearly three times the amount in space than ever before. You chuckled to yourself, knowing Chris would probably want to take on the study himself although part of you knew he was more anxious to spend time with you and Oliver, a thought that made your heart swell.

A week later and you were at the Johnson Space Center, in a waiting room meant for the family of returning astronauts. Oliver is playing with Aunt “Coey” as he called her, holding his spacecraft toy and making it fly above armrests of the row of blue chairs you’re so tired of staring at. Whenever you heard noise in the hallway you quickly rushed towards Oliver, brushing his hair in place with your hands and adjusting the bottom of his striped blue shirt. 

This time you were right to be prepared as a man opened the door. You all scrambled to stand up, holding Oliver in front of you with your hands on his shoulders. The man nodded, giving a quick smile and suddenly you felt overcome with nerves. After two and a half years you were finally about to see Chris again and your heart was beating wildly. You tried to steady your breaths, holding a nervous smile as you waited for him to walk through the door.

The moment he did you were overcome with emotion, bursting out with tears of joy, a smile stretching from ear to ear. He was here, he was actually here. Chris had a smile that beamed as bright as the stars, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked at you and Oliver who had grown restless of standing and made his way into his grandpa’s arms. 

Chris walked unsteadily towards you, thinking Oliver could probably walk better than he can at the moment as he was still adjusting to gravity. You ran forward meeting him more than halfway, throwing your arms around him for a crushing hug. As you cried against his chest your own legs nearly gave out when you felt his arms around you. 

“I missed you so much,” you muffled against his shirt, pulling yourself back to stare into his eyes once more. 

“I love you,” he said, a clear admission of the feelings in his heart, no longer meant with platonic innocence. 

You were always close and while the two of you never saw each other as anything but friends it certainly surprised everyone around you when you didn’t end up together. Things were different now and you both felt the shift in your relationship since he’s been away. It was more than the bond you had by having a child together; Chris always had a place in your heart and you wondered why it took this long to see it. 

“I love you too,” you cried again, feeling the relief of his lips against yours as they pressed together for a sweet and long overdue kiss. 

Lori kissed her son, hugging him quickly as did Chloe who was eager to record Chris and Oliver’s first official introduction on her phone. Michael placed him down and you kneeled beside Oliver. Chris eased himself down, feeling his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. In the last few years he’s been through countless stressful situations, none of which were more nerve wracking than meeting his son for the first time. 

There’s a nervous look on Oliver’s face as a room full of people are all watching him and he turns to look at you, his eyes pleading for help. You reassured him that everything was okay and like the many times you’ve done in the past you pointed towards Chris. Your voice wavered as the words you spoke bubbled out of your throat, “Oliver, this is your Daddy.”

Chris smiled softly, keeping a short distance between himself and Oliver because he didn’t want to overwhelm him. It was clear Oliver was unsure of what to do, looking back and forth between you and Chris. 

“Hey buddy, it’s me. I’m your Daddy,” Chris said and finally Oliver’s face lit up with recognition. 

He grinned, waving to Chris in front of him as they had done through the screen so many times before. With a proud smile Oliver picked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his tummy and strung together a sentence of mostly recognizable words that meant, “I have a belly button!”

A tear squeezed out from the corner of Chris’ eyes as he laughed, “Yeah you do buddy!”

The ice was broken between them and Chris looked over his shoulder at someone who discreetly handed him something behind his back.

“I’m so happy to meet you Oliver. This is for you,” Chris said, handing over a teddy bear dressed as an astronaut. 

He jumped as he took the bear, squeezing it in his arms with the happiest smile. With some encouragement you had him thank Chris and Oliver pursed his lips forward to kiss Chris’ cheek. Oliver let Chris hug him and he smiled through his tears, finally experiencing what he’s been imagining for years, holding his son in his arms. 

Chris thought his days among the stars were over but together with you and Oliver he’s surrounded by a whole galaxy of love. Each day shines brighter than the last and Chris has no doubt that one day soon he will finally keep his promise.

#chris beck x reader #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck fluff #dad!chris beck #chris beck x you

[caffeineghostie]

𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐎𝐧 𝐈𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your academic career, but there was one aspect of it you absolutely couldn't stand: Chris Beck.

W/C: 1.3k-ish

Warnings: talk of exams, some language, Beck is a bit of a jerk, one Brooklyn Nine-Nine reference.

A/N: hi! Thank you @natlovesu for requesting this piece, I hope you like it! I am not really used to writing for Chris Beck so this was a first! It turned into some sort of college au, but if this is not what you had in mind I'm happy to redo it :)

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(GIF isn't mine)

You loved studying; you loved learning new things every day. You absolutely adored being able to pursue your interests in an academic setting, and luckily, you were also good at it. Not without sacrifices, all-nighters full of coffee, sweat and tears, of course.

But there was only one thing that you couldn’t stand: Chris Beck.

More precisely, his smirk. Right now you wanted to rip it off his annoyingly cute face.

Because of course, as much as you couldn’t stand him when he was all presumptuous about his academic career, you had to have a crush on him, and you had it since the first year of your degree course, two years ago.

You two had been introduced by a mutual friend, Mark Watney, the first week of classes, and you had been in pretty much the same friend group ever since. You’d usually study all together at a diner next to your university, revising between a hamburger and a smoothie.

Chris was reading his notes out loud, editing them and lecturing your group, and you weren’t really listening. You instead were playing with some fries on your plate, while looking at him and fantasizing about ripping that smirk you hated so much off of his annoyingly cute face.

Yes, because, ever since you met him, you had developed a crush on him, and you desperately wanted to forget about it. But he had such charisma to him, it was almost impossible.

“Earth to Y/N, Earth to Y/N!” Watney interrupted your fantasies, dangling a hand in front of you.

“What Mark?” you glared at him.

“Were you listening to me or do i need to explain it again?”

Chris always did this. There was this rivalry between the two of you, about who was better, and you both were brilliant students. But he always got that one mark more than you, and you couldn’t bear it anymore. You had to do something.

“Oh shut up, like you wouldn’t like it. And then bitch about it forever,” you joked. But seriously, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. It had always been like this. There was this rivalry between the two of you, on who was better, and you both were brilliant students, but he always somehow scored that one mark more than you, and you couldn’t bear it anymore. You had to do something.

“Hey, Beck! I have a proposal for you,” you called him, tossing your fry on the plate. “Next week’s exam. Let’s make a bet.”

“I’m listening”, he put his notebook down, curious about what you were saying.

“If I beat you, and I will beat you, you’ll stop making fun of me. No comments, no remarks. Nothing.”

“And what if I win?” he paused a bit, thinking, and then you saw a lightbulb go off in his head. “You and me. One day, together. You can’t complain about anything.” he smirked at you, extending his hand.

And this certainly would not help you forget your crush about him. But if this is what it took to finally get him to stop boasting about him being smarter than you, then you gladly took the risk.

“Let’s shake on it” you said, nodding. You hoped this deal wouldn’t make things worse, but you didn’t have to worry, because you were so going to win it.

****

One week later, you found yourself scouring between the results of your exam. You had studied day and night all week, and you were absolutely sure you were going to pass it with the highest mark. Beck next to you, having your same thoughts.

Your heart was thumping in your ears while looking for your ID number, and then you saw your mark: 99/100. That wasn't bad. You were certain Beck couldn’t have done better. You smiled, proud of yourself. You were so going to win this bet.

“Not too fast, Y/L/N,” Beck caught your attention, and you turned to him. He smirked, pointing to his mark., and you followed his gaze on the paper sheet in front of you.

No.

No. No. No.

He got 100.

“See, I told you. I’m the best human-slash-genius” he pointed at himself, all mighty and proud. Ugh, you hated him.

“Brace yourself, Y/L/N. Twenty-four hours starting from” he paused, looking at his watch, “ now. And I'm gonna make sure to be extra-pretentious.” he winked at you.

Oh, you were so fucked.

********

“So how are we gonna do this?” he asked you. .

“I don’t know. This was your idea. To kidnap me,” you let your bag fall to the ground, while letting yourself plop on the bed.

He brought you back to his dorm room, which he shared with Watney. Unfortunately, Mark had to visit a relative back home, and he would not be back for a couple of days at least.

Leaving you all alone with Mr-Know-It-All over there.

“And what a great idea it was. I’m brilliant!” he put particular emphasis on the last word, observing you to get your reaction.

“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes “Well, if you excuse me, your highness” you hinted a bow at him, “I need to study” you started taking your notes out of your bag.

“Relax a bit. We still have a month before the next exam.” he sit at his desk in front of you.

“Nope” you popped the p, “I need to get ahead of you because next time, I’m going to make you pay for it. ”

“Oh, come on Y/N/N, let’s go do something fun.”

*******

Turns out, Beck wasn’t that much of an asshole that you thought he was. Yes, he still was a pretentious idiot, but you know he did it on purpose, just to get on your nerves.

In the entire day, you spent together, you actually had fun.

You spent the day at the park, basking in the sun, which was much needed. You didn’t think you’d enjoy this.

Now the both of you were hanging out on a bench. He had even got you an ice cream as a thank you for agreeing to this whole thing with him.

"You could have made these 24 hours a hell for me, but you didn’t. And I really had fun. So thank you”

“Come on, you think that I'm that bad of a person? Man, you really must hate me,” he joked

“I don’t, actually. You just get on my nerves sometimes. Most of the time. But, you know, I don’t hate you.” which was actually true.

“Good, because I don’t hate you, either.” he smiled. You were glad, you were happy to be friends with him, even if sometimes he was a pretentious asshole.

"Actually, that's kinda the whole point," Chris chuckled nervously, playing with his hands. What was going on?

"Uh?"

"Yeah, uhm," He mumbled, turning all red.

"What, the cat got your tongue?" you teased him. You had never seen him this flustered, and you were going to take your sweet time with it.

"Oh please,” he composed himself. “The thing is, Y/N, I- I like you,” he confessed, looking at you.

“What?” you couldn’t believe this was happening, he’d always been picking on you.

“Yeah, I have for a while actually, and I just wanted a chance to show you I’m not that mean, a-and I’m sorry if I seemed-”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and then you kissed him. It was a soft kiss, you could taste the strawberry ice cream he had on his lips.

“So, I get it you like me too?” he asked, smiling at you.

“Mh, what do you say, genius, it's you that knows everything!” you chuckled.

He laughed, but then kissed you again. His kisses were so sweet and intoxicating, and you mentally bashed yourself for not having confessed before.

Chris pulled away, looking at you in the eyes, the smirk you hated so much appearing again on his face.

"So… you want to bet on the next exam, Y/L/N?" he whispered.

Asshole.

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