we can’t have bechloe without “i need to take a shower” “love it. let’s go”👀✨
so i apologize that this turned out to be packed with more emotion than it needs to be but!! i still hope y’all like <33
This time when Chloe wakes up (she woke up a short while ago but it was still dark and even a hard core morning person like she is she was not going to be getting up at the butt crack of dawn on her day off) she wakes up to the sight of Beca smiling at her.
They are still tangled in the bedsheets they messed around in last night, and the smell of sex lingers in the air even as a crack in their bedroom window attempts to lure it out. Chloe wrinkles her nose, putting her arm under her chin so that her face isn't planted in the mattress with the position that she is laying on.
"Hey."
Beca's smile stretches a little wider. "Hey yourself. Are you always this beautiful when I'm the person who's awake the first time around? 'Cause if so I think I'll be setting up an alarm to be awake before you now."
Chloe closes her eyes and laughs with a sleepy exhaustion into the crook of her elbow. "I went back to sleep after looking at the clock earlier at five, Bec. But sure. If you think you're up for it."
Many people don’t know this but sometimes Chloe is the person who is the more “unromantic” of the pair. Ever since she started dating Beca (finally, dear god) a couple of years ago, she has dropped the notion that was ingrained into her at a young age that if she wanted to fall in love with and be with her “forever person” she would have to be who that person wanted her to be: which was typically happy, sunshine-y, everything was fine and no matter how many times people try to kick me down I will always try to get back up and smile about it, kinda deal.
But Beca doesn’t want her to be like that. She wanted Chloe to be who she herself wanted to be and if she isn’t happy all the time... well, that’s perfectly fine, because everybody has feelings and Beca loves her all the more for them because it shows that she trusts Beca enough to show her how dark or cynical they can be.
So Chloe shows them, and drops that notion, and her heart beats and leaps for the tiny person who she adores most in the entire world.
Even when that person likes to be cheesy from time to time.
For someone who grouches whenever she has to watch movies, Beca sure knows how to talk like a movie character right out of a rom-com: soft and sweet and corny, with romance sprinkled delicately in the simplest of one-liners.
At Chloe’s response to her earlier remark, Beca pouts. Her bottom lip protrudes out about an inch from her upper one and Chloe finds herself rolling her eyes at the gesture, even when her finger walks up from Beca’s jaw to touch it. “I can wake up in the mornings before you do if I want to. I have the determination to do so, just to watch you sleep next to me.”
The hum that Chloe emits right then is to disguise the choking sensation that she feels clogging up her throat. It’s times like these, when Beca makes her feel wanted and loved and genuinely liked (not to mention understood, there are fewer and fewer of those people now in her life, even her own parents have no idea why she does the things that she does ninety-nine percent of the time) that Chloe wants to cry, because she has finally found her forever person and she didn’t have to give up or suppress any part of her personality to do it. She has done so much giving in relationships like the one she now shares with Beca in the past, some even lasting longer than, and not once has she felt like she received as much back. Not like with Beca.
No, with Beca it’s an equal amount. It makes Chloe feel secured, real, down to the Earth that she stands on.
“Weirdo.” She takes Beca’s endearments for her, adopts to them, and then reciprocates, because they are in a committed relationship and because she just...can. “You’re a stalker weirdo.” Chloe leans over, kisses her girlfriend right on the lips. “And I love you.”
Beca kisses her back. Her hand slides across the bare skin of Chloe’s shoulders to tangle into her hair, bunching lightly. Chloe huffs out a sigh, falling forward, shifting herself so that she fits comfortably between Beca’s legs.
Beca immediately bucks her hips. Chloe can tell what she wants, can feel it in the needy whimper spilling from Beca’s mouth, but she stalls.
They have things to do today- errands, appointments, adult things. Beca knows this, has cleared her schedule at work for it, and it is the reason why they are making out in the middle of their queen-sized bed in the first place instead of rushing off to their respective demanding jobs. Being a highly successful music producer calling out the shots on her own clients does not mix well with Chloe’s veterinary surgeon title at the medical facility in the center of town, and whenever they are not busy working, they are either making out, hanging out, or having sex. It leaves little time for anything else and coupled with the desire to do more things with Beca than just getting in her pants as well as not wanting to feel alone when she has to deal with “not so happy things” (she has to have dinner with her brother that evening who is visiting), Chloe has convinced Beca to carve out one day every other week just for them to hack through all of their adult responsibilities.
It works, but only if Chloe has to step on the brakes whenever Beca becomes really handsy.
Like now.
Chloe pulls her mouth away from Beca’s when she feels Beca’s foot sneak up her thigh. “Bec. We need to stop.”
“But I don’t want to.”
And only if Chloe is adamant about it. However difficult it may be (it feels extremely good whenever Beca needs her and she needs her back- when there is a give and a take). “We have to.” She pecks the erratic jump of Beca’s pulse, but doesn’t bite it like her brain begs her to because if she does, they are done for. “We can continue after we return from the dinner. I’ll be all yours, and we can do whatever we want. Sound good?”
Beca swallows. Her eyelids cover the majority of her gaze, shadowing it dark, contemplative. Chloe knows that she is in, then. “Yeah.”
“Cool.” Chloe gives one last kiss, before allowing the sheets to slip down her waist. She swings her legs over the edge of their bed. “Now, I need to take a shower.”
“Love it. Let’s go.”
Chloe looks back her in surprise. “But-”
It is like Beca is in physical pain with the exaggerated way she groans at the ceiling. “Relax, I just wanna wash your hair, okay? No funny business.”
And Chloe laughs and pulls Beca off towards their bathroom, even though she is sure that is not what they are actually going to be ending up doing. Because she knows that if it does escalate it will be on Chloe’s terms, and only hers.
She decides that it will. Just a little bit. For old times sake.
And because Beca accepts her for she is. Not when she is happy and romantic, but when she is not. Beca causes Chloe to be all those things, not the other way around, like others would think.
Nobody can be sunshine and rainbows all the time. There is rain, and also the ground, and sometimes people like Chloe would just like to find an anchor to help lower her head from the clouds.
for context i had an exhausting day yesterday, then ofc there's everything going on in the world, so i wound up in my pretty words tag of my main blog to help process stuff and re-read that 'my heart is a cockroach, caught in the mouth of an alley cat' poem and, apparently, all of that was the recipe for my brain to come up with that ficlet right before nodding off 😂🤷♀️
I was full on Cartinelli for my whole watch of the show XD I usually skipped season 2 on my rewatches so I got more angie than dottie. HOWEVER, after being exposed to the fandom and more importantly: your art. i’ve decided that i adore this ship and peggy’s ability to fall/attract widows across time and space.
