#I wanna draw her all gangly with sharp teeth and black eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morningsound15 · 7 years

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Hey you! I would love to have a prompt with a bit of jealousy. Like the Bellas are in a club or bar and some nice guy is flirting with Chloe.. something like that maybe? :)

I don’t know if you wanted smut, anon, but you got smut. So either I’m sorry or you’re welcome, whichever one is right.

Her eyes flutter open and her gaze falls immediately to Beca.

Beca, who has been watching her intently for the past twenty-five minutes, who even now is boring holes into the side of Chloe’s head, staring daggers at the man behind her.

He slides his hands around to lay flat against her stomach and Chloe curves back into him, her eyes locked with Beca’s the entire time.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12203370/chapters/27752571

Chloe’s never been very big on clubbing, as a general rule. She likes drinking, she likes dancing, and she likes parties, but there’s something about the combination of the three inside of a packed club with sweaty bodies pressed against her that has the tendency to turn Chloe off to the whole endeavor.

She’s never been very big on clubbing.

But the combined persuasive power of Stacie, Ashley, and Cynthia Rose convinces her that it’ll be a fun time, that it’ll be worth it to abandon her books and go out and get a little drunk and act a little crazy with the rest of her friends. Even if it’s just this once.

Now that the rest of the Bellas have finally all turned 21 and can easily get into clubs and bars without worrying about fake IDs, Chloe has more of an incentive to go out with them. Partly because it’s one less thing she has to coordinate, and partly because she doesn’t feel quite so old and out of place anymore, now that they can all legally drink. The age gap between them feels less insurmountable.

For whatever reason, Stacie, Ashley, and Cynthia Rose don’t have a terribly difficult time convincing her to join them on their night out.

It’s a Friday night, Chloe is 24, and she figures… What the fuck, might as well.

The club is dark, the bass pumping so loudly that Chloe can feel it vibrating her sternum. Stacie is well on her way to drunk thanks to the pre-gaming that took place at the Bellas house, Amy disappeared about three seconds after they walked through the door, and Cynthia Rose is already badgering the DJ into playing some old Destiny’s Child hit.

All in all, a pretty standard night out with this group of people.

Chloe rolls her eyes and heads for the bar.

She orders two drinks over the course of two songs and downs them quickly, not really trying to get drunk so much as trying to get just drunk enough to actually enjoy herself.

She’s well past tipsy by the time the fourth song ends.

She sips on her fourth (fifth?) drink as her eyes skim across the crowd.

Her eyes flit over Ashely, Jessica, and Lilly, dancing erratically in a group together in the middle of the crowd. Amy is still nowhere to be seen. Stacie is sandwiched between two different men, her fingers tugging through one’s hair as the other caresses her sides, his mouth pressed to her neck. Cynthia Rose is chatting easily with a girl at the end of the bar, laughing loudly whenever she cracks a joke.

Chloe smiles behind her glass, happy her friends seem to be having a good time, at the very least.

A sure hand on the small of her back makes her turn around, her head cocked to the side, curious. A man stands next to her. He has a scruffy beard and glasses and his dark hair falls over his forehead almost into his eyes.

He smiles at her. “Hi,” he says, half-shouting to be heard over the thumping of the music. “I’m Tim. You’re Chloe, right?” Chloe nods, though she’s fairly certain she’s never seen this man before in her life so she’s not entirely sure how he knows her name. “We had Philosophy together last year,” Tim shouts, recognizing the confused expression on her face and the fact that she clearly cannot place him. “Professor Miller?”

“Oh, right,” Chloe says, because she did take that class last year but she still swears she doesn’t recognize this guy for the life of her.

“You probably wouldn’t know me,” he says, leaning forward and bringing his mouth close to her ear. “I sat behind you. I asked you for a pen one time?”

Chloe shakes her head, grimacing in a way that she hopes isn’t entirely off-putting. “Sorry, Tim.”

He shrugs, looking nonplussed. “No worries. I’m told I have a pretty forgettable face.” He glances behind her, making eye contact with the bartender and gesturing with his hand. “What are you drinking?” He looks back at her and Chloe notices for the first time how blue his eyes are. “Mind if I buy the next round?”

Chloe opens her mouth, the word “No” already halfway out of her lips, when she catches sight of a familiar figure by the door.

Beca has just walked in. Beca, who hates clubs maybe even more than Chloe, who can’t stand going out or getting dressed up just to get trashed with a bunch of strangers she’s never seen before. Beca, who none the less has her hair done and her makeup carefully drawn, looking perfectly unflustered and not-at-all-sweaty even though it feels about 95 degrees inside this building. Beca, who has her boyfriend’s hand gripped loosely in hers as she leads him through the crowd towards Lilly, Ashley, and Jessica, a wide smile on her face as she laughs at something Jesse whispers in her ear.

Chloe blinks a few times, suddenly feeling much drunker than she is.

Her eyes flit back to Tim, who’s standing in front of her holding two drinks and smiling a crooked smile.

Chloe smiles back, takes the drink he passes her, and downs it in one go.

He grins wider. Tosses his own drink back. “Nice,” he says, leaning back over the bar and gesturing for two more, “I love a girl who can drink.”

Chloe sighs. “Please stop talking,” she says with only a hint of malice.

Tim shrugs. Offers her another drink, which she takes gratefully.

His eyes dart down her body. Back up to her face. “You wanna dance?” He asks, and Chloe — even though she feels like she’s at some terrible junior prom wherein she has to watch the girl she’s crushing on dance with the star quarterback while she gets stuck with his slightly-less-attractive-best-friend — agrees, and lets him lead her into the throng of the crowd.

She’s pretty drunk at this point. All of those cocktails in such a short amount of time have finally started to catch up with her, and every time she moves her head it feels like the world tips completely on its side.

Tim’s hands are warm on her hips, drawing her back flush against his front. She reaches up behind her, tangling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to her. His breath is hot on her neck, his teeth sharp as they nip at the edge of her jaw. Chloe smiles into the feeling and grinds back against him, the bulge in his pants rubbing against the curve of her ass.

Her eyes flutter open and her gaze falls immediately to Beca.

Beca, who has been watching her intently for the past twenty-five minutes, who even now is boring holes into the side of Chloe’s head, staring daggers at the man behind her.

He slides his hands around to lay flat against her stomach and Chloe curves back into him, her eyes locked with Beca’s the entire time.

She watches Beca’s knuckles go white, curled around her glass.

Jesse is next to her, hovering near her elbow, chatting animatedly with another Treble they’ve just happened to run into. He throws his head back and laughs as the other guy punches him on the arm good-naturedly, but Chloe isn’t looking at him, can’t watch him, can’t care at all about what he’s getting up to. Not when Beca is looking at her like that.

Tim’s mouth is hot against her neck and his hands are hot against her abdomen and Beca’s withering glare is hot and burning her for entirely different reasons.

Chloe smirks at her. She can see Beca’s nostrils flare from across the room.

She turns in her spot, her fingers still buried in Tim’s hair. When he kisses her his mouth is warm but too big. His beard scratches her chin and his tongue is uncoordinated as it slides over her lips, but Chloe’s drunk and she doesn’t care. She can’t care.

Because Beca is here. She’s here with Jesse but she’s spent every second of the last thirty minutes tracking Chloe’s every movement.

So if she’s gonna watch, Chloe’s gonna put on a show.

The music is thrumming through her veins, addictive and exhilarating like the best kind of drug. Chloe’s head is thick and her vision is unfocused and the whole room is spinning just a little and the guy holding her — she can’t remember his name at this point — he feels wrong, too big and gangly. He smells wrong, like Old Spice and nice cologne. Not bad but wrong.

He’s not a bad kisser but he’s not great and Chloe is drunk but she’s not so drunk that she feels the need to keep kissing this guy she has no interest in getting to know.

She pulls away from him and he tries to chase her mouth with his. She puts a hand on his chest, holding him at bay.

She smiles sweetly, hoping that it will stop him from asking too many questions. “Bathroom,” she shouts in the direction of his ear. She doesn’t hang around to see if he gets it, to try and keep track of him in the thick of the crowd, to try and mark his position as if she’s going to try and find him again.

She knows she’s not going to try and find him again.

She looks at Beca who is staring back at her, her eyes dark and dangerous.

Chloe bites her lip and makes a bee-line for the mostly-empty hallway that leads to the bathrooms.

She knows Beca will follow her.

Chloe takes her time in the bathroom. The floor is sticky, the stalls graffitied over scratched black paint. The lights are bright and fluorescent and they flicker every so often in a way that makes Chloe’s head throb. The tap at the far end of the counter leaks slowly, the drip drip drip of the water impossibly loud in the empty room. Empty except for her.

She turns on the sink, letting clear and cold water circle down the drain but not touching it. Eyes herself in the mirror. Wipes at the edge of her mouth where her lipstick has smudged.

The door opens with a creak but Chloe doesn’t look away from her own calculating reflection.

She’s drunk. The longer she looks at herself the more she feels it. Her eyes blink back at her sluggishly. The bathroom is too bright for how her head feels.

She knows Beca is watching her. “What are you playing at, Chloe?”

Chloe huffs. Yanks a few paper towels out of the dispenser next to the sink even though she doesn’t need them. She makes eye contact with Beca’s reflection. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Beca’s eyes flash. Her nostrils flare again. “Like hell it’s not.”

Chloe turns around. Leans her hip against the dirty countertop and folds her arms over her chest. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Beca arches an eyebrow. “You didn’t want me to follow you in here?”

Chloe huffs and shifts her weight. “No,” she lies.

Beca takes a step forward, her face drawn and her expression dangerous. “Were you gonna go home with him?”

Chloe gulps. Drops her hands to grip at the counter. “Beca…”

Beca is now completely in her space. Her breath ghosts over Chloe’s cheeks. Her hands bracket around Chloe’s hips, trapping her in place. “Were you?”

This game they’re playing feels dangerous, the rules mostly unspoken. They know each other so well, can read each other so well at this point that they almost don’t need to talk about what’s going on between them, but it still feels dangerous. The truth of the matter is Chloe always knew what she was doing, knew that she was going to rile Beca up, knew that she was trying to rile Beca up, knew that she was going to draw Beca to her, silently urge her to follow her into this room. She always knew it was leading to this.

“No,” she grits out through clenched teeth (and God, she hates herself for it, but she knows it’s true. She was never going to go home with anyone but Beca).

Beca’s mouth is hot and punishing when she kisses Chloe, all biting teeth and sucking lips. Chloe whimpers as she feels Beca’s teeth scrape her skin, the taste of iron slipping over her tongue immediately after, her lip already swelling from the incessant pull of Beca’s teeth.

Beca pulls her to the side and shoves her back against the bathroom door, her hands immediately bunching Chloe’s skirt up around her waist. One hand yanks Chloe’s underwear down to her knees while the other presses tightly against her mouth to muffle the desperate little whines that Chloe can’t quite bite back.

Her fingers run roughly over Chloe’s wet sex and Chloe’s hips jump to meet her touch. Beca pushes her harder against the door, growling at her to “Stay put,” and Chloe is breathing heavily through her nose but Beca’s hand is still over her mouth and it feels like she can’t breathe.

Two fingers enter her roughly and Chloe bucks away from the wall almost on reflex, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“Is this all for him?” Beca asks, her eyes dark, makeup smudged at the corners. Her lipstick has been entirely kissed away.

Chloe whimpers and tries to shake her head but it’s hard with Beca holding her still. Beca drops her hand.

“What was that?” She asks again, her voice low and somewhere between angry and aroused. “Did he do this to you? Are you this wet for him?”

“No,” Chloe admits, voice barely above a whisper. She tangles a hand in Beca’s hair and pulls. Her feet slip against the tiled floor, scrambling for purchase as Beca pistons inside of her. “Fuck, Beca,” she hisses.

“I can’t believe I had to watch you kiss him,” Beca mutters. She swipes her thumb over Chloe’s sensitive clit and Chloe has to clamp down on her own lip to stop from screaming. “Can’t believe I had to watch you dance with him. Tease him, like you were gonna let him fuck you. Like you were gonna let anyone but me fuck you tonight.”

“Jesus Christ, Becs.”

Beca kisses her, swallowing Chloe’s quiet moans. She changes the angle of her thrusts and Chloe gasps, her breathing heavy and loud. She arches into the touch, her teeth clenched tight as she comes with only a tiny whimper.

All the muscles in her legs seize and she shakes, clenching around Beca’s fingers.

Beca’s lips never leave hers, but the pressure behind them softens slightly, Beca’s mouth opening a little, her tongue becoming more languid as she slows the pace of her thrusting fingers.

Chloe whimpers when she finally withdraws them.

“Are you going home alone tonight?” Beca asks her quietly, resting her hand — still wet with Chloe’s arousal — against the bare skin of Chloe’s hip. Chloe nods once, her limbs loose as she tries to get her breathing under control. Beca smiles and it’s the sincerest smile Chloe’s seen all night. She kisses her. “Good,” she whispers against Chloe’s lips. Her hands are gentle as she tugs Chloe’s underwear back up her thighs, as she pulls Chloe’s skirt back down and smooths down the creases in the fabric. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

And Chloe is helpless to do anything but nod.

#anonymous #asks #perdition #prompts #prompt fill #bechloe #beca x chloe #jealousy #semi-public #smut

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