I wrote this for an Anon on Tumblr, It's my first Pitch Perfect story and I haven't written in a while so I hope it's not horrible.

Prompt: Beca liked Aubrey's bitchiness at the activities fair, she found it amusing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Perfect and its characters... if I did Chloe would be using her mouth for a lot more than just singing with Aubrey and Beca. Sorry, that was inappropriate.

Enjoy!

Corker42

I want to produce music but the universe is trying to punish me for something. I just know it.

Why else send me to Barden University? Besides the free tuition, that is.

For whatever reason, here I am, at college and equipped with an official BU rape whistle that I'm tempted to use on anyone who comes near me.

(You would think having headphones on would keep people from bothering you but instead, it never fails to encourage people to come bother you. Most likely, by some evil twist of fate, they bother you more than they would if you didn't have huge, noise-cancelling studio headphones on.)

Harmony, tranquility, and somebody not having a problem with me- things that never last long in my life; and, as it turns out (shocker!), being at Barden, clearly, isn't going to change that.

Take the first day I arrived on campus: some dude in the back seat of his parents Camry sang Carry on My Wayward Son to me as this odd girl gave me my official BU rape whistle and told me in some exaggerated voice (I hope) where my dorm was. After following her directions, heading towards my new 'home' for the next few months, and hoping that the equipment I hadn't grabbed wasn't damaged by whichever incompetent-looking volunteer hauled it out of the cab to my dorm, there were four, male upperclassmen sitting on the lawn next to the student housing giving incoming female freshman scores like they're judges in the Hugh Heffner Olympics. (Fucking pigs, this isn't a wet t-shirt contest take your misogynistic frat boy asses back to your house). Then, I had to avoid some girl's extensive stuffed animal collection.

(Which, are you serious? I understand bringing an old stuffed animal or something when leaving home for the first time, but come on. It was like walking into Build-a-Bear.)

Then, Kimmy Jin happened; and okay, so maybe the English thing was a little uncalled for but she wasn't talking so I had no idea and I just wanted to make sure we could communicate.

After I get my music equipment out and start working on tweaking a mix, my dad tries to act like he's some comedian. Just, no. On the upside, I got to say step-monster. Highlight of the day.

But, such is the life of Beca. One moment, I was talking with my dad who, in a bad attempt to reconnect with me, decides to tell me that what I want to do is a hobby, not a career. Shows how much he knows about me (I make some side money doing DJing for gigs but I want to produce music, big difference. Aren't parents suppose to encourage their kids and support their dreams, as long as they are realistic and cause no harm to others?); and the next, Kimmy Jin, for all her silence, saved me by saying she was going to the activities fair (I don't blame her the awkwardness was permeating throughout the small closet they call living space. Not that I haven't lived in one before…). I followed her lead, quickly. I escaped but found nothing but disappointment in the Barden DJs table.

(Who'd guess Disc Jockeys and Deaf Jews would use the same acronym? Clearly, not me.)

I wasn't even really glancing at the various tables and, since the only thing of interest turned out to be something entirely different, I was just trying to avoid my father for as long as possible. A cheery voice greeted me as I was in between tables. The owner held out a flyer and I grabbed it, stunned that someone spoke to me.

(I know I don't come off as the most welcoming and warm person there is, so for someone to just greet me out of the blue without me giving any interest is completely unexpected. Usually, they just act like I don't exist.)

The redhead, who I would come to know as the hot, gorgeous, bright and cheery, and all around awesome Chloe Beale, explained that the Barden Bellas were an acapella group. She seemed really intent on emphasizing that everything acapella is about what their mouths can do.

The blonde who, I might add, judged me since (probably before, too) her spit-fire of a friend stopped me in my tracks, was completely shocked and offended by my comment that acapella seemed lame.

"Aca-scuse me?" I was positive that wasn't a word (being in the Bellas changed that, just a little though) and clearly, I insulted her life. "We played the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center, you bitch."

Uptight and bitchy; It was amusing.

(Before, I always though an uptight and bitchy personality was a complete turn-off, not this time. It's something about the way Aubrey carries herself, you know?)

Chloe calmed her down rather quickly, covering for her outburst. I still remember the look of distaste and disdain on her face after that.

I smiled, "Look, I'm sorry but I don't sing. It was nice meeting you." I said, throwing a smirk the blonde's way. She returned it by narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips.

The bitchiness? It suited her perfectly.

(Still does, always will and I wouldn't have it any other way.)

At that point, there were a few things I knew for certain: One, I love mixing music; two, I will be a successful music producer in Los Angeles, despite what my dad thinks; three, I'm apparently attracted to redheads (never knew I had a thing for Gingers 'til Chloe); and four, being at Barden University was going to leave me very conflicted.

As soon as the tall and bitchy, blonde-haired leader of the Bellas, Aubrey Posen, decided to defend her precious acapella group and judge my appearance which is obvious from the way she surveyed my body, unless she was into me (which, yes she was) without missing a beat, I had a feeling Barden might change things more than I previously thought.

About a month after the activities fair, despite my original plans, I became a Barden Bella. I suspect Chloe had something to do with convincing Aubrey to let me in.

(I mean, my audition was the best but still.)

Chloe convinced me to go to auditions. By convince I mean she walked into my shower completely nude (with that fantastic body of hers) and stood as close as possible, demanding I sing David Guetta with her.

I did. I wasn't about to deny a beautiful girl what she wanted despite my embarrassment. It was... interesting. We sounded amazing together.

(I'm guessing our mouths would work awesome together to make amazing-ness in non-acapella activities involving student bodies, particularly, hers and mine, but I've yet to find out since that tool she was with suddenly appeared.)

Now, present day. Here we are, post-regionals and yet another Bellas rehearsal. It's just a normal day: Aubrey is testing my patience (again) and I'm pushing her buttons (like always). It's all a part of the natural order of things.

After explaining (and kind of pleading) to her that our set list is shit. She decides she's had enough of my shit.

(I'm surprised it's lasted this long, honestly.)

The soprano turns and stalks toward me from her spot at the piano, "I am sick of hearing you complain about our set. I make the decisions around here, Beca. I decide what's best for the group, not you. We don't need your arrangements, Ms. Wanna Be Music Producer." Aubrey says through clenched teeth, getting inches from my face.

I don't even flinch. I'm so used to it by now, "If you want to win, you do! If you want to make daddy proud, you do." Jesus, Beca, low blow much? "There's nothing modern in our set list. Are they good songs? Yes, they're awesome but you can't expect to get any attention with the same routine you've done for the last god knows how long. We're going to bore the shit out of the judges and the entire acapella community!" I growl back. "Either that or remind them of how vomit inducing it was. Literally, your lunch. Everywhere." I spread my arms out, emphasizing my point before crossing my arms over my chest.

Aubrey opens her mouth to say something but Fat Amy interrupts.

"Excuse me," the Australian interjects.

"What?!" Aubrey barks.

Amy holds her hands out in front of her, "Excuse me, aca-bitch. Chill out. I'd rather your lunch stay in your stomach and not all over this," she gestures to her body, "sacred temple." Aubrey pauses enough to look confused before Amy continues, "You two need to work out your shit. The sexual tension between you two is thicker than the Tasmanian bush I hunted dingo in."

Cynthia Rose nods in agreement, "I thought I was the only one."

Aubrey turns back towards me and I shrug. Her eyes narrow and she steps closer so we're nose to nose.

"Bring it, Mitchell."

I chuckle darkly, "You wouldn't be able to handle it, Posen. I'd put it on you so hard."

"We need to get out of here before there are clothes flying everywhere," Stacie comments. "My clothes always come off like that," she snaps her fingers, "when someone says that to me."

My gaze with Aubrey (and her lips) falters for a moment when everyone looks at Cynthia Rose after she says, "Well, if I knew it would be that easy. I wouldn't have suffered this long." she pauses realizing she has spoken aloud and quickly grabs her bag, mumbling about needing to 'find' something.

Aubrey and I return to our staring contest. After a few minutes, I vaguely hear Chloe say something about practice being over, before I hear the shuffling of the other girls grabbing their things and beginning to leave.

Jessica makes some comment about how everyone else is delegated to the back and only allowed to do background vocals because of "whatever weird mating or courting ritual is going on between those two and Chloe."

Ashley agrees. As they leave, she, Jessica, and Denise start discussing the difference between the tension between Aubrey and me and Chloe and me and which is more intense.

Stacie practically runs from the building, stating, "This stand-off is causing Him to be on the prowl."

Cynthia Rose follows her out of rehearsals, no doubt offering her services as "His" willing prey.

Fat Amy comments on how she can't believe she ever thought only one of us was a lesbian. Lily seems to agree but no one's really sure, not even Fat Amy who is the closest to her.

"I'm just going to assume you agreed with me, Whispers," she says before they walk off together with Amy interrogating Lily about Donald.

Chloe wanders up to us and looks between us with that bright smile of hers. Aubrey and I give our attention to the redhead with the bright, sparkling blue eyes. She grins and, for some reason, looks rather pleased with herself before kissing us each on the cheek.

"Have fun. Be safe. See you later, much later," she chirps as she leaves, doing that thing where, fueled by her happiness, she floats slash glides out of the room like Anne Hathaway as the White Queen in Alice in Wonderland.

"I don't like your attitude." Aubrey hisses, knocking me out of my thoughts.

I scoff, trying desperately to keep my eyes from flicking to her lips. "I can't say your controlling, anal-retentive behavior is all that attractive," I snark back.

"Too bad you can't let anyone in."

I laugh, "Says the girl who tries so hard to please daddy that she pukes under pressure. Jesus, relax. Get laid or something." I'd totally help with that.

"You should do the same." Aubrey pauses and swallows thickly, "Your laissez-faire, devil-may-care attitude is highly attractive." she mumbles, practically growls.

I'd be taken aback by that comment coming from her but ever since the activities fair I've just had this feeling we'd get to this point someway, somehow.

Aubrey's breath hitches bringing me back to reality, again.

I take a step closer, "I found your bitchiness pretty fucking amusing at the activities fair. But adding this domineering, must-have-control thing on top of it, is just fucking hot."

Aubrey's eyes flick from my eyes to my lips, rapidly. "I knew you were... alternative." I'm positive that was a whimper.

"Shut up." I grab her face and crush our lips together, pushing my fingers into her hair.

A few minutes in to our intense make-out session, she pulls away panting heavily. I move to her neck, sucking on the pale skin.

Her hand moves to the front of my jeans and as she presses her hand against me, I moan and the acoustics in this place amplify it to reflect the level of my arousal. "Little excited to see me?" She grins. I can hear it in her voice.

I chuckle, "Yeah, I got a huge toner for you."

Since the activities fair I've been attracted to her bitchiness but the laugh she lets out at my statement is probably the most adorable and beautiful thing I've ever witnessed or heard.

Thanks for reading! Good or bad comments are always welcomed.

There may or may not be a written sequel to this...

Corker42