Jul 16
chris beck come home chris beck we miss you
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chris beck come home chris beck we miss you
excuse me, the chris beck drabble was so adorable?! i need him to put little CJ in me right now!
Beck doesn't get enough love, nonnie! He'd be such an amazing dad. And the breeding kink is strong with this man. You can't change my mind on that.
Love and thanks! ❤️
No Regrets
Pairing: Chris Beck x Female Reader
Summary: Chris has no regrets when it comes to you.
Word Count: 300
Playlist Prompt: Pink Pony Club - Chappell Roan / “Every night's another reason why I left it all”
Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, having a baby with Beck, Chris Beck (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Day 10 of the June Jukebox Scribbles Challenge by @societynsoelsscribbles . ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Chris Beck was a responsible guy.
June 30th - Dancing Queen
Chris Beck x reader
Ultimate SPACE HUSBAND!!! I love this one. Lyric from Dancing Queen.
Warnings: absolute wall to wall fluff. The ending to Chris's June Jukebox. Hopefully ending the month on a high!
Words: 321
June Jukebox Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It could have been the fact that he’d been stuck in space with very limited options.
It was probably that.
Because you were about as far from the ideal option as he could get.
As you were very clearly demonstrating with… whatever it was you were currently doing.
He certainly hoped it wasn’t some kind of weird mating ritual (this time), because this time, you were tearing up the dancefloor - a real, light-up dancefloor - with your former Hermes commander.
Melissa Lewis twirled you under her arm, throwing your dress in a wide circle as your shrieked with laughter.
Yes, you were about as far from the ideal option, but only because he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.
Seeking him out once again, as you had on-board the Hermes, you pointed at him as you sang.
“Anybody could be that guy,” you shimmied over to him, lifting the hem of your wedding dress. “Night is young and the music's hiiiiigh…”
You landed in his lap with a giggle.
“Where’s Mark, he loves this one!”
“He’s at the bar, he hates this one.”
“But you love it.”
“I love you.”
He nudged you back off his lap, tipping you unceremoniously as he stood.
“Hey!”
“Come on then,” he said, taking your hand.
You gasped. “Christopher Beck, are you going to dance?”
“I’m gonna dance, baby.”
Across the table, Martinez whooped and got to his feet. “Yesss! Let’s dance, my man!”
Yeah… with the luxury of being able to speak to literally anyone else, he knew he’d only ever be wanting to kiss you for the rest of his life.
He didn’t need to know how many days, hours, minutes.
He didn’t want to ever be free from your horrendous dancing, awful jokes and beautiful smile.
You looked up and smiled, then winked at him.
He was, he decided, in a significant amount of trouble.
And he couldn’t be happier about it.
June 23rd - Rhythm
Chris Beck x reader
Ahhhh this one was so fun!! 🥹🥹 Lyrics (lots of them - I couldn't resist!) from I Believe in a Thing Called Love.
Warnings: fluffy fluffy fluffy, the Beck ones are following a loose ongoing story over the month but each will also be standalone.
Words: 295
June Jukebox Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Even in the scariest, quietest, hardest moments of the trip, you’d made your presence known.
You were never quiet.
In the couple of years he’d known you on Earth, silence wasn’t something you’d excelled at, even less so in space.
But you hadn’t said a word since Watney had taken to his cabin, your nightly game of cards remained untouched.
Chris watched you over the top of his laptop, waiting.
“You OK?”
“Yeah, sure,” you studied the cards. Put one down, changed your mind, and picked it back up again. “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t know.”
He closed the laptop. “What’s on your mind?”
You closed your eyes. “I… I can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel.”
Chris felt his mouth open and close again, with no sound emerging.
“My heart's in overdrive,” you went on, eyes still closed.
When he still didn’t say anything, you opened one eye, then the other.
He caught the way your face began to fall with his silence.
“ - I… shit -”
He was out of the chair before you could finish, crossing the space between you in just a couple of strides.
Without pausing, he took your face gently in his hands, and kissed you.
When he pulled back, you blinked, awed.
“Oh,” you said quietly. “OK.”
“Yeah?” he asked softly. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
“You have?”
“Just listen to the rhythm of my heart,” he took your hand and placed it over the NASA badge on his sweater.
You took the soft material in hand and twisted it into your fist, pulling him closer again.
“Lewis is going to kill me,” he murmured, his mouth already on yours.
“Probably,” you agreed, smiling into his kiss.
“It was worth it,” he said with certainty.
Mission Log
Pairing - Chris Beck x GN!reader
Summary - You and Chris discuss the next checkpoint.
Prompt - “We'll be rocking 'til the sun goes down.”
Warnings - MDNI 18+ , implied smutty space shenanigans , kissing , cringey flirting (I’m sorry, I tried 🫣)
Word count - 267
A/N - My Day 23 entry for the June Jukebox Scribbles.
A/N 2 - Society made the banner.
My Jukebox playlist
June 18th - birthday blues
Chris Beck x reader
You spend your birthday aboard the Hermes. Lyric from Come and Get Your Love.
Warnings: a little sadder - birthday blues, the Beck ones are following a loose ongoing story over the month but each will also be standalone.
Words: 313
June Jukebox Masterlist | Main Masterlist
You were back to the dancing.
He'd managed to avoid it for months. No, not months, weeks.
OK, maybe it was more like days. They all blurred into one anyway.
Apart from this one - your birthday.
Where you were currently dancing to base-heavy German techno with Vogel and the ever-improving Watney.
You'd been very vocal about this particular day.
“My dude,” you'd said sadly, some sols ago, “I am going to turn thirty. In space.”
Then you'd gone to bed early, and he'd missed your smile for a few days.
He'd made some attempts to cheer you up. He thought he'd succeeded.
That was before you appeared at his elbow, dancing abandoned.
"Come on," you said, for the fourth time, tugging at his sleeve like a persistent child. "The samples will still be there in an hour."
He didn't look up.
"Beck."
Still nothing.
You leaned directly into his eyeline. "Christopher."
His blue eyes met yours.
“There's cake. Actual cake. I have no fucking clue how they did it, but NASA have sent cake to space.” You sighed. “Hey, it's your business if you want some, take some. I’m not gonna force you to come to my pity party.”
Get it together, Beck. He forced himself to look at you properly.
Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips.
You were closer than he'd realised. Close enough that he could see that the sadness in your eyes.
"Hey," he said quietly. "Happy birthday."
It wasn't enough. He knew it wasn't enough. His hand found your shoulder, just briefly -
- Then Lewis’s voice began a chorus which Martinez, Vogel, and Watney quickly joined.
“Happy birthday to you -”
She carried a tray with a slightly flat sheet of sprinkle sponge in the centre.
Chris let his hand drop, and joined the song.
His original diagnosis of significant trouble echoed in his mind.
An understatement.
June 14th - til you die?
Chris Beck x reader
Childish fun with Chris and Martinez. Lyric from Play that Funky Music.
Warnings: pure fluff, the Beck ones are following a loose ongoing story over the month but each will also be standalone.
Words: 309
June Jukebox Masterlist | Main Masterlist
In hindsight, Martinez was entirely to blame. If anything broke, and you were court-marshaled, you would sing his name like a canary.
“I’m just sayin’” he said, hanging upside down with his feet hooked over a rung of the ladder, “it’s surely a matter of scientific - and medical - interest. How many rotations can the human body achieve in zero gravity before they puke.”
“As a medical professional, I don’t give a shit -”
You gasped. “- Chris! Did you just curse?!”
“That’s a dollar for the swear jar,” Martinez insisted.
“I don’t have any cash up here.”
“The metaphorical jar, Christopher,” you hissed. “Are we doing this or not.”
“Thirty seconds,” Martinez announced, holding up Chris’s watch. “You going separately or together?”
“Separately,” you said, right as Chris said -
“Together.”
“If you’re going together, you’re gonna have to count your own rolls. Vogel said he was taking a nap, not dealing with our childish bullshit.”
“Swear jar!” you cackled.
“Whatever, let’s go kids -”
Chris looked at you, you looked at Chris.
“This is stupid,” he said.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, pushing of from the wall towards where he floated in the airlock. “But can you think of anything else to do?”
With you? He could think of many things. Several of them swam through his head.
“C’mon then, Martinez,” you ordered, “play that funky music!”
“Til you die?” He asked with a loud laugh.
“Til. I. Die.” You fixed Chris with a hard stare.
He made the strangled cat noise again. You held his gaze, a smirk playing on your lips.
Something in the arch of your eyebrow snagged at the back of his mind, something you’d told him recently that he couldn’t quite place.
“Three.”
Martinez began the countdown.
“Two.”
Chris shook off the unformed memory.
“One.”
You were right, he decided. There really wasn’t much else to do.
“Roll, motherfuckers!”