Something About That Freshman

by omACAgee

Chloe Beale is a smart, well behaved and well mannered girl, living a normal, young girl's life during her time as a college student. Things start to get fishy around the streets of Barden and it seems to be happening more frequent when a brand new freshman, with a bad girl image catches her eyes and there is just something not right about this one. (Bechloe AU)

10. Chapter 10

THE HYPE FROM LAST CHAPTER….OMG. I can NOT with some of your comments; I was laughing so hard! To all the guests that I wasn't able to respond back to, I appreciate you, you all are beautiful and yes, lots of us wanna see Beca Mitchell bone the living daylights out of Chloe (Pound it Beca Effin' Mitchell LOL) maybe it will happen, maybe it won't, who knows ;) I also wanted to split this chap into two, but since you guys like the novel chapters, I present you with a 20,000 word chapter ;)

I MADE A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST!

Under SATF, follow it!

(I DO NOT OWN PITCH PERFECT NOR THE SONGS MENTIONED)

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Chapter Ten: I Can't Fight This Feeling

You have came to a rather hasty conclusion that is certain to be indisputable.

Kissing Beca Mitchell has undoubtedly, within minutes, become your all time favorite thing to do, like, ever, and you see nothing in the near future taking its place. Basically, it's a permanent sensation you get when your lips touch that you wouldn't mind, nor would complain even the slightest bit if you felt this way for the rest of your life.

Out of all the other past lovers, flings, and sudden hook ups, Beca Mitchell is a phenomenal kisser and even then the word is just an understatement. No doubt is she the best kisser you've attached lips with; she's rough when she kisses-boy is she rough, but she's also sweet and tender, kinda like a sour patch kid-which yum.

Just like Beca and her soft, juicy lips that taste like beer, strawberries and heaven all in one stroke.

Talk about delightful.

She's also very touchy, you notice when her hands grip at your waist and her nails claw at your skin, but then her touches ease up to almost a graze with her fingertips, along your collarbone, up your neck and across your jaw while her mouth continues to assault your own brutally. Majority of the kiss, your bottom lip is trapped between Beca's teeth and it's knee chattering, lungs stopping, heavy breathing erotic.

How you're still functioning is a Scooby Doo mystery they wouldn't even be able to solve, because holy crap, Beca might just kiss the living life out of you, which wouldn't be too out of the ordinary since she already has a good grasp at your sanity.

Hands search out for anywhere to grab on Beca until they land frantically in her hair, knotting the lusciously soft locks in two strong fists while her's roam your entire, half nude frame, leaving your skin to burn underneath her fingertips where they once were like they were tiny little hot plates.

At first, your body experienced a series of temperatures; chills and goosebumps from the initial kiss, shock from the way your body would react to Beca's tongue moving so expertly through your mouth and over your lips, raising every hair up on your skin, and now, your whole body is scorching hot, begging for some type of release and being denied of it with what you're wearing and where Beca's hands aren't.

And honestly, you've never been this close to coming undone by just kissing that Beca should be very proud of herself for riling you up so fast in such little time.

Actually, you've never been this close to coming undone period, but let's not talk about that.

"God, Beca," you moan desperately into the kiss over the freshman's mouth, heavy breathing taking up most your energy for the words to come out solid. You hear, as well as feel Beca's low, guttural chuckle vibrate against your lips before her chuckle morphs into a hungry growl, snagging your probably very swollen bottom lip between her teeth, hands moving up your stomach to very dangerous territory.

You clench your stomach muscles underneath her touch, trying not to pass out from where her hand-the one that isn't holding up your leg to cage around her waist- is headed for. A thumb grazes just the bottom of your bikini top, right above your heart that's seconds away from bursting from your chest, just under the curve of your breast and that same sensation you felt just then is the main cause for turning your other leg holding you upright against the shed to straight jelly. Kneecaps buckle at the touch, and you would've collapsed into the ground if it wasn't for that same hand getting bold around your chest grabbing your collapsing leg under your knee, pulling it up to hook around her hip to join the other one in the air.

And, okay, Jesus Christ.

You knew Beca was incredibly strong from personal experience, but her holding you up like this so you're able to straddle her front, giving her all the space to grind her hips between your legs, now that's impressive.

And also very, very sexy.

Pretty much the sexiest make out position you ever found yourself in.

You cling your arms around Beca's neck now that your legs aren't keeping you stable anymore, returning the kiss with a few tricks up your sleeve that you suddenly feel brave enough to test out. You lick and nip any chance you get, gaining the faintest bit of control in the make out before Beca takes back the wheel, driving you straight into a bush filled with ragged breathing and heavy pants.

Beca stretches out your lip, snapping it back in place before diving in for another kiss; one slow, more tender than the rest of them have been and then her lips reroute once she gets a good taste, trailing light kisses down your chin, across your jaw, and lingering a little longer on the base of your throat. Instantly, the lower part of your stomach coils into a knot and you have to rest your chin over the side of her head due to the sudden lightheadedness.

"Fuck," you breathe a shaky moan into her ear; your body is on straight fire right now to the point where it's becoming unbearable to sit through without feeling something else. Feeling something more.

"You saying shit like that in my ear is making it very hard not to take you right here," Beca speaks for the first time in what feels like years, her voice is all sorts of gravelly and disintegrating panties low-which then only makes her sexier-and you find the burning in your stomach excruciating.

With one of her hands underneath your thigh, she directs it farther up your leg until her palm is filled with new territory and she's groping your backside tightly, sending a new wave of arousal to hit you like a bag of bricks.

"But I'm a lady and think we should stop."

Your eyes snap open like you've been resurrected back from the dead.

No no no.

No no no no!

Stopping is the last thing you want to do right now. Beca's between your legs, sucking at your throat with a purpose, teetering you off the edge each lick and you have this rhythmic grind rubbing against her front that is helping to ease you off the edge. There are places on your body that are throbbing with the need to be touched, the kissing is far too enjoyable for words and you know what, fuck the rush right now.

Fuck the party.

Fuck the witches.

Fuck everything.

Now that you've gotten a taste, you want Beca all to yourself and stopping now, after what your body is experiencing, is just impossible.

And just plain out malicious, if you're being honest-which you completely are.

You can feel Beca's smirk stretching across the skin she's basically trying to suck the blood out of; you wouldn't be surprised if your already had a nasty bruise glowing on your neck the size of China, nor would you try to hide it either. Instead you'd flaunt it like a trophy, or a noble prize or a winning lottery ticket, like, Hell yeah I just had a super hot make out session with Barden's hottest student who happens to also be a witch hunter and super successful.

Be jealous.

Beca gives your bottom a harsh grope before she's gently easing your legs back down onto the ground; you have to grab at her shoulders not to faint because, yes, kissing Beca Mitchell might possibly be the death of you.

Stable and clearly disappointed at the fact that there isn't anymore kissing being done and-preferably- more than that, you cock a suspicious glance at Beca, looking at her sideways and trying not to tip over from the dizziness.

She's a whole other level of attractive that should be considered illegal for everyone's-mostly yours- sakes; her eyes are basically black from her dilated pupils, her lips are swollen, cheeks are flushed with pinks and red, and her hair is flipped all crazy in the sexiest way possible and good God, it's taking everything in your body not to attack this girl right here, right now.

What the Hell has gotten into you, Beale?

"Look," Beca starts before you get the chance to say anything about halting the kissing and her face falls down to the ground immediately and the explicit amount of happiness you are feeling this moment drains out from your body, starting at the curves pointed up on your lips and flipping upside down. Starting off any conversation with 'look' is destined for bad news, plain and simple.

"I like you a crazy amount," she declares, not a hitch in her voice, which makes you feel kind of more at ease, but you know there's more.

There has to be a "but," somewhere down this road. You are positive it's coming sooner than later, so you already try to prepare for the major heart cramps and quite possibly tears. Maybe even some anger will come out of the news.

But as you prepare to get your heartbroken by the most confusing person you have ever met, the "but," never comes, even after several moments of you and Beca just staring at each other, it doesn't even slip.

"But?" You bring about the conflict yourself, unable to handle standing through the torture with how long it's taking Beca to get to the point of why the two of you aren't perfect for each other. She's grungy, moody, and pissy all the time. You are a bag of sunshine, bubbly, energetic and sweet as sugar.

The two of you are destined to be together, couple goals, as a matter of fact, so it's infuriating to not understand how Beca can't see that you two would be amazing together. Killing witches while on the side you two make out in her super sexy car, listening to some Def Leppard in the background underneath the stars in the middle of nowhere.

Shooting guns at random objects without a care to the world and getting in bar fights; it's pretty much fate. If that's not the most romantic future you guys have ever heard, then you don't know what is.

Beca quirks an eyebrow up at your choice of word, confused. "But what?" she drawls out her words, confusion laced within them.

Now you're the one thrown for a loop. "You like me a crazy amount but," you try to use the 'fill in the blank' game with Beca because she still is radiating confusion with what you're talking about. "There has to be a reason why we can't continue this whole...sexy kissing behind sheds thing and why you're stopping"

"There's not a but," Beca states, blank in the face with zero emotion, but your increasing confusion causes a miniature smirk of hers to peek out at one corner of her mouth. "I like you a crazy amount, period."

You shake your head in attempt to process all of this. "Wh-what...I just…don't...what?" Look at you being number one in the speechless department. Can't say you missed the inability to form human sentences, that's for sure.

Beca closes the distance between you two again without a verbal answer to your sputters of just vowels. Physical answers seems to be more her style, not that you're complaining because even though it's only been literally seconds since you guys last kissed, you can already rightfully admit her lips, pressed nicely against yours, was gratefully missed.

By far, the kiss is a lot slower than what you two engaged in previously; your lips move perfectly in sync with hers, there's no sloppiness, bites or mindless groping to any body parts. Her hands are gently placed over your ribcage; yours are around her neck, locking her face in place while you two exchange long, lingering strokes of your tongues into each other's mouths.

"God, I fucking like you a lot," Beca kisses are soft, but her words come out powerful, almost like a growl and it coils your insides to hear this confession, because, like, feelings are so totally mutual she has no freaking idea. "But, since you insisted, we have to go kidnap your friend."

Even though it's a continuation to what she said, a "but" that usually means bad news, this time it doesn't break your heart into a million tiny pieces. Perhaps, maybe, it broke your vagina's heart, if it were to have one, but your heart is still up and beating a mile a second, inflated to a maximum size and filled to the brim with happiness.

She's out of your grip before you can even register that the kiss has stopped, your eyes remain closed, body still lost in cloud nine, hands now only cupping the air where Beca's face once was and hormones still short circuiting yourself into insanity.

When you do open your eyes, you see that's she's walking away and it takes a moment of getting movement back into your legs and snapping out of your post make out trance, but eventually, you follow her, grabbing at her shoulder to turn her around before you two make it back out to the party that's now in full blast.

"You're seriously doing this to me?" Now that you're facing Beca you see her eyebrows scrunch together, not fully understanding what you mean. "Kiss me better than I've ever been kissed in my whole entire life, admit to having feelings for me, touch my butt the way you did and just leave?!" You're a different type of frustrated compared to what you were with Beca a couple hours ago. Sexually frustrated would be a perfect explanation why you're red in the face this time around and yelling at the girl for the third time today.

Beca doesn't flinch by the raise in your voice; if anything, she's amused by it under that dirty smirk of hers she has planted on her face, and it's quite distracting to get your point across.

You take your finger and jab it into Beca's shoulder every other word. "I'm so freaking turned on right now that it basically feels like I just jumped in the hot tub and it's all your fault!" You don't even bat an eyelash at what you just upright admitted, half because the statement is very, very true if the throbbing between your thighs has anything to do with it and half because your hormones are fogging up your brain with what to say and what not to say, allowing everything regardless of how personal they are to come pouring out your mouth like a TMI waterfall of word vomit.

You think Beca's eyes darken even more by your confession, but it doesn't look like she's doing anything about it and it only makes the uncomfortable heat more unbearable.

"As much as I'd like to take care of that for you," she throws you a flirty wink on top of her crooked smile after her eyes descend down to your bikini bottoms, the whole mixture enough to make you hyperventilate. "And I really do, but we gotta go." She goes right back to walking away from you again, except this time all you can do is follow in tow, much to your dismay.

You release a frustrating huff of air before taking off, fixing your hair and really wishing you had a mirror to check for how swollen your lips are, making it clear what you just spent the last fifteen minutes doing and if you have any marks-which you know you probably do.

"You're such a tease," you grumble as you tug along behind Beca, hanging your head defeated and she just chuckles like she planned for this to happen to you.

Jerk.

As embarrassing as it sounds, walking is also a challenge that is embarrassingly noticeable, no thanks to Beca and the way she touched you moments ago that created an overwhelming pulse between your legs.

Jesus.

Who is this girl and how the Hell is she able to affect you so much by a simple kiss to make you feel like you've never felt before?

Never felt before.

As much as you want to have your best friend back to her normal, controlling self, the fact that Aubrey is unknowingly the main reason why you and Beca aren't making out anymore makes you want to...to uh...well...you don't know exactly what it makes you want to do, but you know it's something crazy because you need to kiss Beca again.

"I can't believe I just got blue balled by my best friend and she's not even here," you grumble out irritated as you sweep past Beca, but as you step in front of her, a hand grabs at your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks and she's pulling you in close to her again.

Her hands land at either side of your hips and she's looking intently at you, like she's trying to solve a mystery within your eyes and it's not a shock you melt.

And blush.

And whimper

And die pretty much.

"Listen. I'm overwhelmingly attracted to you and it's terrifying-and I kill fucking witches for a living." You snicker at this and allow your forehead to fall over hers. "No matter how hard I tried to convince myself not to get wrapped up in a romance, you came along and God, that plan went right out the window real quick," Beca snorts, the thumbs on your hips start sweeping across your skin like windshield wipers and she feathers a kiss at the corner of your mouth. "I like you, you like me, cool. I'm not going to ignore, avoid or deny my obvious feelings towards you because doing so would be pointless. So, now that you know I'm not going anywhere, can we go get your friend?"

Pushing the swarm of butterflies away, you lift your forehead away from hers and connect your hands with hers, lacing each finger together. "Promise we will talk?" You ease up a bit and the frustration starts to dwindle down. Same with the sudden spur of horniess that has washed over you.

Beca curves up a small smile, leaning in closer to whisper until your lips ghost over each other.

"I promise."

And it's the most sincere statement that you've ever heard come out from Beca's mouth; there's no sarcasm, eye rolls and witty retorts hiding her emotions and you believe her.

But you also want one last thing from her to seal the deal.

"Prove it to me," you whisper over her lips, her breathing mixing perfectly with your words.

She opens her mouth like she's going to kiss you, so you chase, but she pulls away, teasing you by flicking her lips just faintly over yours before you can kiss her.

"You, Chloe Beale, are irresistible," Beca purs over your lips in that same low voice. This whole teasing thing is incredibly hot, don't get you wrong. Same with the usage of your full name, but the most annoying thing to go through.

You just want to kiss her, dammit!

"I'm also very horny, which is a new...feeling to experience, can't say I enjoy it, so the least you can do is kiss me one last time." You don't give Beca the time of day to respond to this and take your hands to pull at either side of her face, slamming your lips together mid way through her chuckles. Teeth clank together in the most unattractive way possible, but it's just amazing as the first time nonetheless.

Kissing Beca is definitely something you can get use to doing.

---

Eventually, you two make it back to the party that has tripled in size with all the guests flooding the Bellas' house. In between heavy kisses, Beca explains that you needed to go scout out Aubrey, because most likely, Gail and Kommissar have put something into the guy's she is talking to drink, which will end up with him passed out lifeless somewhere, probably the woods.

And if you two are able to follow the couple, not only will you kidnap Aubrey without drawing attention, you'll also find the location for nest Gail and Kommissar are planning on keeping their prey.

The worst part of this plan is the fact that Beca, even though she doesn't want to-which is like super cute that she is so jealous- is that you have to continue talking to Tom since most likely he drank what Aubrey's boy toy drank since, obviously, you're trying to rope him into a giant witch spell where he'd be slaughtered to death.

Okay, maybe not to that extent, but it's possible.

You tell Beca you don't want anything to do with Tom that you only want her and her only and she kisses you again to shut you up. She repeats her orders, this time earning a different response from you by the after effect daze you fall into whenever you separate from Beca's lips.

You honestly think Beca could tell you to jump off a bridge with an ocean full of sharks and you'd do it immediately after she just got done kissing you.

After separating from Beca with a few more stolen kisses (the girl doesn't know how addicting she truly is,) you go on a hunt for Tom against your will, inwardly cursing to yourself because talking to the boy is the last thing you want to do right now. You find him by the bar in the same place where the two of you were talking before Beca rudely interrupted, but her tongue skills made up for it real quick.

He's chatting with a few other frat guys in similar, high lighter colored swim trunks, all equally blinding to the point where you have to squint to talk to them. He doesn't seem too thrown off by you getting pulled away by Beca mid conversation to go make out like dirty teenagers behind a beat up shed in the back yard for the last thirty minutes.

At your arrival, you're greeted with his signature cocky grin, maybe a little more sloppier and less charming than his usual smile thanks to the alcohol, but it's still there and it's still...you don't have another word for it, but just know that's it's there.

He slings an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in for an awkward side hug and with a good view of the inside of his red solo cup, you notice a foul odor radiating from the brownish, green liquid caught inside and only two names come to mind as to where he retrieved this drink from.

"Where'd you go?" Tom slurs a mouthful of rotten stench, swinging you back and forth in the hug like a damn rag doll. He smells like chlorine, cologne and death at all once. "One second we were talking and the next...some short girl was pulling you away."

You squint at his description of Beca; you're the only one who is allowed to call her short and get away with it. "Her name is Beca and she just needed me to help with some girl puking in our bushes," you quickly make up an excuse, waving your hand to blow away the conversation. Any more talk about Beca, who you should be with instead of chatting with Mr. Prince Charming is going to drive you absolutely insane.

You were never big on fairy tales, the knight in shining armor deal; you always thought they were a load of bologna anyways, but you loved and watched them anyways.

Tattoos, black leather, and heavy eye make up are more your style to make your heart race and apparently perspire in the more... southern regions.

Tom nods his head in understanding about the excuse to help a Casper puking girl and goes right back to talking with his buddies, but doesn't dare to move his arm off your shoulders. In fact, he reels you in even closer to his frame, as if you're a prize on display.

His stories are pointless so far, but your have to try your hardest and look the slightest bit interested in football, because that's what girls do when they're 'blending in.'

Luckily for you, it doesn't take much time before your attention to glued elsewhere around the party and onto someone in particular who isn't shit faced drunk and dancing around like a complete idiots like the rest. Standing in all her mysterious glory by the hot tub is Beca, and even with the distance you can see her smirk glowing and her wondering eyes over your skin eating you whole.

You've never experienced a withdrawal from something-better yet, someone in your life, but then here comes Beca, making you experience a lot of things you've never ever felt before and crave even just her presence.

But her lips quirk up in that killer crooked smile and the urge to rip off Tom's arm and kiss it right off her face is something you'd rather be doing. It's even more distracting from far away, which is why you sneak out your cell phone you kept hidden in your bikini top and type up a quick message to send.

[Chloe Beale 1:56 PM]: Stop looking at me like that

From where Beca is standing at by the jacuzzi, you watch her dig through her short's pocket, pulling out her cell phone and starts to type away.

You gnaw at the corner of your phone case until a message is received almost instantly.

[Beca Mitchell 1:57 PM]: Like what?

Feigning innocence?

Clever, Mitchell.

[Chloe Beale 1:57 PM]: Like you want to pin me against the nearest wall, kiss me until I can't remember my own name

You send the message and keep the chat open while you look over to Beca staring down at her phone, an even bigger smirk than before plastered over her face after she types something back and lifts her attention to meet yours.

Lucky for you, Tom and his friends are too busy talking amongst themselves about boring football stuff to even notice the lack of interest coming from your end and how you are too busy staring at your phone and at an extremely sexy human being at the other end of the yard.

A sexy human being who you still have no idea what to consider her as now that you guys are friends and partners, but also friends and partners who make out?

[Beca Mitchell 1:58 PM]: Red, I want to do a whole lot more than just kiss you right now

"You good?" Tom asks, causing you to tear your attention off your phone, quickly click your phone off and shove it back into your bikini top where it's been sitting the entire morning. You glance up to him equally frazzled and confused. "You made a weird noise just then," he chuckles awkwardly and you mentally slap yourself.

Of course you made your whimper to reading Beca's text message audible for everyone to hear when the very explicit images came to mind, all of which you took part in with Beca as a supporting role.

Why wouldn't you?

You open your mouth to say something back-you planned on saying something back, but when you go to talk, nothing comes out. Whether it's because you don't know how to respond to this, or because Beca has certainly just punched you with a ball of heat straight to the gut from a text message.

And she knows it too when you look back over to where she's standing and she's wearing her amusement on her skin, brighter than Tom's construction worker swim trunks.

"Is that a hickey?"

You slap a hand at your neck in the exact spot Beca's mouth was attracted to, eyes going wide at the realization that, yes, you're walking around with a hickey on your neck. You slap Tom's pointing finger away and make up another excuse that it was the curling iron, which could be true if it wasn't for the fact it's not exactly true.

He's about to say something else about the bruise you're covering up, but you notice Gail and Kommissar a close distance away.

Gail gives you nod over to her general area where she's standing with a tray of drinks and Kommissar on her hip, both still flaunting around the party in black dresses that brings about tons of concerns as to why nobody is questioning that they're wearing this on a hot day in Georgia without a bead of sweat on their ridiculously perfect skin while everyone else is in swimsuits.

Jesus, it's like they have two big signs on their heads that reads "witch."

Maybe the house will fall on them on the way over so you don't have to endure whatever speech they have planned this time.

"I'll be right back," you tell Tom, awkwardly patting his stomach and not really knowing what else to do to announce that you'd rather be stuck in mud than listen to him talk about other dudes in tight spandex pants.

Hello, you're gay for a reason.

Slowly but surely, you walk over to where the house mothers from Hell are beckoning you, feeling calm and contented on the outside but on the inside, you're flipping the Hell out. The last time you interacted with Gail and Kommissar they used some weird, witchy voodoo crap and lectured you about ruining your appearance for the bait, which, like, ouch.

And this time you have a giant hickey on your neck.

Maybe Beca is trying to get you killed.

When you get to them sporting the largest, most unbelievable fake smile you could muster up that hopefully doesn't resemble how terrified you are to even be face to face with them, they hit you with a full, three sixty spin once you hear them speaking full, actual sentences in the farthest thing from English.

Maybe it is Latin, or perhaps Russian (which you should know taking that you're in a class revolving around the language) but you aren't too sure, nor do you know how to respond to this when your presence is heard.

Oh how Beca has another thing coming for her if she expects you to pick up another language when you can barely pass your English classes.

"Not today," is all you're hit with and it's from Gail, who doesn't express what exactly she's talking about, but she's looking directly at Tom. "Too much talk around town will create too much attention towards the Bellas, especially since we've got two already."

"Two...what?" You ask skeptically, hoping that speaking in general won't blow your cover, nor bring any attention to your neck where your hand is still covering in the most casual way.

Before they can even answer your question and tell you whether or not you're next on their hit list with something you should already know since, obviously, you're a witch and all who should know these things, a scene breaks out; a rather violent scene involving a super soaker water gun, a guy practically snapped in half and a tiny girl causing the snapping, draws their attention away, along with yours.

And when you see this, especially who it is causing the scene, your mouth plummets to the ground.

"Who is that?" Gail asks, anger in voice rising as her attention is pointed over at the girl who is currently pinning some random guy into the ground with his arm bent inhumanly behind his back, water gun pressed up behind his neck.

It takes a second for you to register that Beca is drawing way too much attention to her undercover alter ego because her martial arts and expert fighting skills is way to sexy to even form a cognitive thought.

But eventually when you snap out of your admiration at the realization that if Beca is caught being here, both of you are doomed, you quickly scout out the best excuse possible.

"I don't know, let me go find out," you say quickly, already on the move to vanish Beca away from the impressive crowd she has drawn to her before she gets herself killed. Everyone is either amused, terrified, laughing, or recording the entire fight and would no doubt be all Barden talks about this weekend and most definitely floating around social media.

"Mysterious, Tiny, Small Girl Breaks Poor, Innocent Guy In Half at Bellas' House Rush"

Goodness, you could already see the headlines now.

Making it to Beca, you yank the smaller girl off of the guy she has twisted up like a pretzel, screeching out for dear life in agonizing pain from how his arm is bent and teleports her away from the scene without her actual profile being identified by Gail and Kommissar.

"Beca, what the Hell?!" You exclaim once the two of you are out of sight and in the front yard of the Bellas' house. "You get your panties in a wad when I draw too much attention to myself, but it's okay for you to become freaking Picasso?!"

"That fucker had it coming for him, Chlo," Beca's excuse shouldn't hit you heavy in the swoon department like it did, but the new nickname is greatly appreciated. And freaking cute as Hell. "He was going around yelling 'wet t-shirt contest' and suddenly I'm being shot by his bitch ass water gun!"

"So you decide to flip into Jackie Chan's long lost sister and break him into two pieces?" you counter, hands on your hips. "Beca, do you know how many students have a black belt in martial arts? How many students that can be registered as a deadly weapon because of this? Zero! Nobody except witch hunters do what you just did!"

Beca doesn't budge by this; she is still fuming about the whole water gun thing and not the fact that she just outed herself to a bunch of drunk college kids. "Look at my shirt, it's soaked!"

You glance down at Beca's tank top and can admit it's drenched with what you can only imagine came from the water gun that guy was holding. "Well, looks like payback's a bitch," you shoot playfully with a wiggle to your brows, smirking up a smile that isn't fazed by Beca's furious glare. "If you don't remember I had the same issue earlier, but mine was with my swim bottoms-"

Oh look at that, Beca cuts you off, again, go figure, but this time with a slap to your mouth with her hand, silencing the rest of your words and transforming them into a muffled mess underneath her palm. At first, you're confused, but then a familiar voice rings a bell and you see Aubrey tugging along some inebriated, blonde hunk she's been tied to all party into the back seat of her car before driving away suspiciously.

"Looks like we are going for a ride." Beca removes her hand from your mouth, but replaces it with her own, kissing away any words you had left to say or think, perfectly executing the task of silencing you with her tongue. "Lets go," she orders husky over your lips when you two break apart. "Nice hickey, by the way. I'm super proud of that one."

Honestly, you weren't prepared for the kiss she randomly dropped on you, which threw you into the hazy state you're currently stuck in and you definitely aren't prepare for her to discard her wet tank top up over her head and tosses it mindlessly onto the lawn, leaving her clad in only a black bikini, pale skin, tattoos, scars and lots and lots of back muscles shimmering under the sunlight, which nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.

So, you don't even comment about the bruise on your neck given by her and how shes all smug about making it.

Beca's already quite the distance away from you once you realize that you should follow and jog to catch up, but you regret it instantly when you're at an arm's reach from Beca's toned muscles and very visible cleavage that, hold up, now that you're thinking about it, this the first time you've seen Beca's actual boobs.

And whoa.

Aren't they a sight for sore eyes.

"By the way, if it was an actual wet t-shirt contest, you'd win by a landslide," you joke with your eyes on the prizes, but you're also not really joking because it's way true. So true it's kinda hard to breathe the longer you look.

Beca glances down where your eyes are glued, which happens to be her chest, and lifts them back up to eye level with a certain sparkle to them. "Good to know," is her smug response once you two make it to her car and she's digging through her trunk to find a spare black shirt, of course. "Yours ain't half bad either."

You blush like an idiot when you're rewarded Beca's half smirk over the hood of her car now looking directly at your chest before she's gone and dropping inside.

As usual, Beca slides on her aviators and roars the engine to life. "Now get in. We got your friend to kidnap." Fanning your face to get rid of the obvious pink tint to your cheeks, you get in as well.

This should be interesting.

---

Admittedly, following a suspect around undetected who happens to be your former best friend and co-head sister is a whole load of thrilling as it is terrifying, because the high chances of getting caught is very up there.

But, wow, it's so much fun.

Being with Beca, in general, is thrilling, you've come to another quick conclusion. The running red lights, going way above the speed limit, and the 'I don't give a flying hoot' about anybody or anything front she has on when she does all of this without a single care to the world, one hand on the wheel while the other controlling the stick shift and absentmindedly tugging at the strings connected to your heart without even knowing.

And your sanity.

And your hormones.

You're sure you guys could even wait at the doctor's office and she'd somehow make the experience exciting.

She's hot.

God, this girl is so, so hot.

Like, how is she even real?

"Alright, we can't go any further into the forest without being heard," Beca says as she turns off the car, eyes focused on the path where Aubrey's car drove down into the fog filled, creepy as shit forest where last time you were here, you were attacked by witches so, let's just say being back here again isn't really settling, nor was it missed. She reaches behind you into the backseat and grabs her gun; the more impressive one out of the two she frequently carries around.

"Whoa!" You stop her from placing the gun in her belt loop on her shorts by grabbing at her wrist, all alarms going off inside your head. "You're not going to hurt Aubrey, are you?"

"As much as I would like to, no I am not," Beca assures in not the most positive way to make you feel better about allowing her to carry a gun while kidnapping your best friend. She's smiling, though, which makes up for the hesitation to allow her to be armed. You think you'd be okay with her doing anything if you get a smile like that every time. "But I have to remind you that Aubrey, especially with where she's at, mentally, is capable of...a lot."

You're interested, though you don't know if it's out of fear or curiosity. Probably both but more fear than anything else. "Is she...dangerous?" You gulp finishing this question, scared to even hear an answer. Aubrey in the past was all bark no bite, but now that she's technically a witch, anything is possible.

"Totes," Beca still has her smile planted on her face, despite her response to a question definitely not smile worthy, but it's so what you'd say, and hearing such girly slang come from Beca's mouth is adorable, and it makes you smile as well. "But I'll protect you, not that you really need me. I've seen your right hook."

"Don't you mean these massive muscles?" You raise your arm up to flex, showing off your biceps and laughing when Beca rolls her eyes, smile starting to fade away and replace with her badass, sexy, 'I'm about to get shit done' witch hunter face.

"Lets go."

"Wait." You stop her again, grabbing her forearm this time to prevent her from leaving the car. "Do you have like...spare shorts or something?" You gesture your hand over your current outfit, which is a blue and white bikini and nothing else, the total opposite of witch hunter gear, unlike Beca who is always prepared. "I feel kinda naked."

In the most unsubtle way, Beca's eyes scan down your body in a torturing slow speed before meeting your eyes again. "Suits you." And she sends you a wink that you can't help but laugh at.

But you still need clothes.

"Seriously!" You smack at Beca's shoulder trying to keep the seriousness in the question before the pent up sexual tension takes control. "If I'm going to fight off some possible witches, I want to do it without flashing a tit or butt cheek...and don't you dare say you'd prefer that I'd do that!" You say quickly with a accusing finger pointed at a guilty looking Beca who's raising their hands up high in defense.

Reaching into the backseat again, surprisingly, she pulls out another lone pair of jean shorts and another black t-shirt that you snag immediately before sliding the shorts up your legs and buttoning them at the waist while throwing the shirt on.

Beca watches the whole process, a tint of hunger layering her eyes which momentarily makes you forget why the two of you are parked in some creepy forest and aren't making out right now, but the gun sitting snug in the back of her shorts is a fast reminder what you guys are exactly about to do.

She's almost all the way out of the drivers side until she somehow catches your hesitation to get out of the vehicle and reaches back into the backseat to hand you another gun; a weapon that you're quite familiar with from training and was a gun you actually did really well with. It's not heavy like the others in Beca's collection, the recoil isn't mind shattering powerful, and with shooting this one, you're at least destined to knick a witch's arm or something, at least.

You copy her moves to slide the gun into the back part of your shorts and follow her out of the car, flip flops snapping against the debris and twigs on the the ground when you walk. The forest is, again, deathly silent, and there's a thick film of fog coating every direction you look and that by itself brings a completely uncomfortable eerie aroma to make you feel less confident about doing this right now without possibly getting killed in the process.

"What is your plan exactly?" You ask in a whisper as you follow closely behind Beca, who is sneaking around like a well trained cat just about ready to pounce on something. The two of you never really went over a brainstorm about how to go about this situation, which is a tad bit unsettling to think about now that you guys are in the middle of a deserted forest with no one around to help, nor hear you screaming for help.

Beca stops walking to pull out two syringes full of a thick black substance. "A little concoction I made all day and night yesterday, which is the main reason why I didn't respond to any of your messages. I wanted to talk to you, swear, but I needed to get a potion together to reverse the Succubus rum," she explains genuinely, handing you over one of the syringes and you feel lighter hearing this confession. You also completely forgot Beca is able to create crazy potions and stuff because she is a witch.

Oh my God.

You so totally have a thing for a witch.

Once the syringe is in your hand, not only do you realize it's an impressively sized shot with a gnarly length needle, the strong rotting smell of whatever Beca jumbled together hits your senses immediately and you clench a hand over your mouth in attempt not to gag.

But you do anyway, which earns a sharp hush from Beca and you hiss a whisper that you can't help it because whatever God awful stuff she put into this potion might just kill you before Aubrey does.

"Did you put a dead body in here, Jesus Christ, Beca!" You whisper hiss this under your breath and under your hand cupping over your mouth when you guys start to move again and you hold the shot like dirty laundry before shoving it into your short's pocket.

"Trust me, a dead body smells like a rose garden compared to that shit," is Beca's dry retort. She is mostly focused on scouting out Aubrey and Mr. Blonde Hunk to even be worried about you, which is, like, understandable. "We need to get that into Aubrey's neck somehow. It's filled with some of the tranquilizer stuff I use in my darts and, of course, the rum, along with a ton of other witchy bullshit I had to dig deep and find, but I'm half positive it will work."

"Half positive," you catch, pausing your movements because that's the farthest from reassuring now that you two could literally be confronted by the blonde and only have half the chance of surviving. "What the Hell do we do if it doesn't work?!"

"Pray that we don't get slaughtered and hope you brought your A-game with your shooting abilities because chances are if it doesn't work, there will be lots of shooting going on," Beca answers absentmindedly, completely missing the wide stretch to your eyes and halt to your breathing from the sudden tidal wave of fear that you just got slammed with. "Actually, regardless if it works or not, getting that shot into Aubrey's neck is going to be tricky and chances are, she'll most likely try to rip your head off."

That's it.

You've came to another hast conclusion that you're going to die today.

Plain and simple.

Goodbye life! See you never!

"Beca, I can't do this!" You announce when all the fear catches up at once, probably in a volume way too risky for the place the two of you are at right now, but you can't control it. Beca stops walking and turns around confused, mouth starting to open to say something that will change your mind, but you beat her to it. "Nope, nope, nope! I'm out of here!" you chant, turning on your heels to get the Hell out of the forest like nothing Beca can say or do will change your mind about staying.

Maybe she could try and kiss you again, tug you by the belt loops and pull you into a forceful, heated kiss, whispering to you how everything is going to be alright.

But even then you think that your life is more important, regardless of how sexy and irresistible Beca is.

How the heck are you two supposed to make out if either of you end up dying? See? Now that's something you can't allow, which is why you're walking back to Beca's car with a purpose and no chance of going back, ignoring how she is yelling in a harsh whisper to get you to come back, but you don't budge, not even in the slightest.

"Chloe?"

It's not until a new voice joins the scene, along with a bikini clad body that belongs to the one blonde girl you and Beca were just now following into the woods appears out of nowhere right in front of your tracks, giving you a legit heart attack and you're stumbling backwards, unable to decide whether or not you should cry, scream, run or shoot at Aubrey before she rips your head off.

"Oh hey, Bree," you muster up a fake smile and awkwardly wave your hand to the suspicious blonde walking your way. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"What are you doing here?" Aubrey asks suspiciously, one eyebrow raised up high as she creeps in closer to you, so you try to nonchalantly back peddle away to avoid being at an arm's reach from your sister because something tells you that this isn't going to be a friendly encounter. "How...did you get here?"

"Just...uh…" you start nervously, voice wavering in panic as you try to come up with something. Beca's presence is long gone as you turn your head to silently ask for help, which, okay, thanks for nothing, Beca. Oh no, you're seriously going to get murdered by your best friend. "I was just walking...and stuff. Clearing my head." You chuckle awkwardly, waving your hand in the air for extra dramatics.

Aubrey cocks her head to the side, not fully believing this because even you can rightfully admit that none of it sounded convincing. She looks at you sideways before her mouth stretches into the creepiest grin you have ever seen- and you watch horror movies religiously! "I know that you're hanging out with that Beca girl."

Oh God no.

How the Hell does she know that?!

"I can smell her scent on you."

Dammit Beca and her permanent cigarette smell!

"I-I...uh no! What?! Beca? Beca who?" You ramble out nervously, beads of sweating starting to form at your hairline and you feel that it's time to grip at the base of the gun caught behind your back. Word salad. Perfect example of a word salad at the worst possible time. Kudos for you, Beale.

"I know you're lying," Aubrey says, still moving closer to you, but this time as she gets closer, you see pass the fog that the color of her eyes are not their usual emerald green, but instead black, like, midnight black, and there's no outer white part in the orbs. "I can't blame you, though. Girl is quite...irresistible," Aubrey purs this out and it gives you immediate goosebumps at how sinister she just sounded, plus how she looks because holy crap, talk about a winning terrifying Halloween costume.

You continue to slowly back away from Aubrey until your back hits a tree, and you think to yourself, this is it. You're about to die without giving a little bit of a fight and your stupid, knight in ragged leather is nowhere to be found.

Aubrey catches up to you, eyes disintegrating your strength and maniacal smile hitting a new level of creepy. With nowhere to move now that Aubrey has you cornered, she cranes her neck in close to your face, her breath is grossly hot and has a repulsive odor and you tense immediately, feeling trapped with no way out.

"She's hot and yummy. What I would do just to get my hands on her...or get my tongue," she whispers seductively into your ear in a tone that doesn't sound like Aubrey at all, and you whip away from her face as if she just slapped you, because, um, no. Absolutely not.

You don't care if Aubrey is technically a witch and could kill you within seconds. Nobody talks about Beca like that to you-your Beca (who's not here) and you have to use all your strength not to shoot Aubrey right now because even though she's a witch, right now, she's a complete bitch.

Apparently there's no such thing as "Girl code" in witch world.

"To bad you're in the way of letting me get what I really...really want." Alright, Aubrey's voice has turned into full on witch mode, which should be more frightening than it is, but you're still hung up about the whole Beca comment to be scared. She violently grips at your throat with her hand, nails so long and gross they touch the back of your spine and, okay, you're scared now. "Guess I'll just have to take care of that little problem, now should I?"

You go for your gun hidden behind you when Aubrey's laughs switch to high pitched cackles, but stop before you grip the base. It's then when you remember Beca gave you a special shot that could possible reel Aubrey out of her little brainwash trance Gail and Kommissar put on her and save your best friend, so you opt for this option instead of the gun-even though the green monster you've morphed into is very tempted to shoot her right now.

"Aubrey," Beca's voice appears from behind the blonde and she's wearing her signature, heart throbbing smirk of hers while you're about to strangle this girl in front of you out of plain jealousy. Aubrey snaps her head back to look at the intruder, the impressively strong grip at your throat eases up. "Jesus, you're so damn sexy." Beca doesn't bat a lash when she says this, nor does she take in the current situation.

"Excuse me?!" You screech at Beca's words directed to not you, but in fact, your best friend standing in front of you who happens to be a bloodthirsty witch that nearly seconds ago was about to kill you. You have claw marks circling around your neck like a choker as proof.

The fuck?!

And seriously, no offense to the real Aubrey locked up inside witch Aubrey, but the blonde looks hideous right now.

Beca doesn't answer you, nor does she even look like she's paying any attention to your presence, in general, and walks up closer to Aubrey with her smirk still planted on her face, hooks an arm around the blonde's waist and smashes their lips together, sending you down a deep, dark, endless tunnel of what the fuck. Aubrey kisses her back, moves her hands up to Beca's face and this time, you do pull out the gun hidden behind your lower back, aiming right into the back of Aubrey's head.

You're a whole other level of furious that the only thing preventing you from pulling the trigger is Beca lifting up one of her hands that is holding onto one of the syringes filled with the potion that she made earlier. Stabbing it into the side of Aubrey's neck just below her ear, she drains the mysterious liquid out into her bloodstream until she is pushed violently away and the two of your are left with a monstrous screech coming from no other than Aubrey, a very angry, and newly terrifying transformed witch.

Great, the potion didn't work.

What else could possibly go wrong?

It's takes a moment for you to process that, okay, your best friend is currently foaming at the mouth, pale as a ghost with blue veins visible around her cracked skin, zombiefied to a key, a blood red rash bordering the bottom of her black eyes and just looking absolutely disgusting, for lack of a better word.

But eventually it clicks to you that, holy crap, it's happening; Aubrey totally just "witched out" and is seconds away from ripping you to shreds if you and Beca don't do something, fast.

"Don't shoot, Red!" Beca yells over to you under the screeches coming out from Aubrey and how all of a sudden every twig, rock, branch, and leaf is circling in the air like a tornado, creating this massive windstorm around Aubrey who you realize is creating all the magic

And really, Beca says don't shoot when all of this is going on?

Obviously, the girl has a death wish, which is something you're perfectly okay with when the images of her mouth sucking on Aubrey's face not too long ago rings a bell and you remember that, oh yeah, she did that.

You don't shoot, though, not that you think you could've had a small chance to even hit Aubrey with all the debris flying around from the wind and how it's almost impossible to see anything. You expect Beca to do the honors of doing something to keep Aubrey from marching at you like she currently is, ready to kill you with her bizarre voodoo magic, but she doesn't, which is fantastic.

And you find out she doesn't need to do anything because all of a sudden, all the debris, the glass shattering screeches and wind come to a dead stop, everything falling straight into the ground, including Aubrey, whose skin has transformed back to normal, but is lifeless on the forest ground.

"Got her," Beca announces like she just got done catching a Pokémon.

You march up to where she's inspecting Aubrey, adding more and more force each stomp to your foot. "What the Hell was that, Mitchell?!" When you make it, you shove Beca in the shoulder with much aggressiveness, nearly sending her back into the ground.

Cool, you guys caught Aubrey without dying in the process, but there's terrible replays going on inside your head of the kiss that involved someone who you also kiss.

And like it more than a lot.

"Succubus rum and what it's designed for is weak against any form of physical and emotional intimacy. I had to get her mind off of killing you and onto something else so I can stick the shot in her neck without her noticing."

"So...it didn't mean anything?"

Beca snickers, shaking her head with a small smile. "Couldn't remember it even if I wanted to, because your kiss and lips are the only thing running through my mind." You soften up a bit, and return the smile, feeling less jealous, but more the urge to kiss Beca until the sun goes down. "Anyways, I found the nest where Gail plans on keeping her bait, it's hidden and like a cemetery deal not too far from here. Witches hang these creepy voodoo looking stick figures around for each boy that's captured and are buried so they know where they are and no one else will dig them up."

"They're buried?" you ask, voice dripping with fear because that sounds awful. Buried alive is one of your biggest fears.

Beca nods her head and explains that Gail and a Kommissar put a spell in the drink they give to the boys that knocks them out until they've risen from the ground, keeping them well groomed and clean without rotting from the bugs so the ritual isn't affected, and if that ain't the scariest, most bone chilling thing you've ever heard, you're not looking forward to hearing what is.

Using her crazy witch hunter strength to lob Aubrey up over her shoulder, she takes you to the nest so you can see for yourself. The dolls are ten times more scary when you get there; they're made up of just twigs and branches, but somehow are built together as a stick figure person and brings chills down your spine. The area is also secluded away from everything else and is circled big the large forest trees, giving a clear view of the dog filled sky.

"All the fog will be gone by the time Halloween comes, giving a perfect, center view of the blood moon, which is why the ritual and sacrificing is more than likely going to be held here," Beca tells you as the both of you look up into the fog.

"Why don't we just rescue the boys now that we know where they are?" You ask curiously.

"We need the ritual to happen because it's when Gail and Kommissar will be at their weakest. You can't tell right now because they've prepped by literally sucking the beauty out of young, beautiful girls before leaving them dry and dead, but soon that will wear off and their perfect skin, luscious blonde hair and teeth will go to shit and their true appearance will come back."

You gulp as you take a look at a inevitable scenery that will be filled with hundreds of witches and far more blood. "Well that's lovely," you snort sarcastically and decide to look at these dolls up close with Beca following behind.

"Whoa, there was only one of those when I found this place." For the first time, you hear fear in Beca's voice and she immediately drops Aubrey to the ground before wiping out her gun, but it's too late before she's barely dodging an incoming small spear of some sort heading straight for her nose, sending the, apparently, very sharp object back into one of the trees, which instantly sticks into the middle of the trunk.

Another one flies at you before you can even register where and from who it's coming from and Beca pushes you down into the ground, screaming at you to take cover as she shoots at something you're not too sure of above you. Your head takes a heavy impact against a stone weirdly circled around the nest, but you guess dizziness over a spear to the eye is a Hell of a lot better.

Everything comes out muffled and your vision is blurry from the hit, but it eventually clears up and you see Beca fighting off another girl, who you can rightfully assume is a witch; a tall and very busty witch who goes by the name of Stacie Conrad and is engaging in a full on fight with Beca all 'witched' out like Aubrey was. How and when the Hell did she even get here?

Beca takes a hard hit to the gut by a black broom like object Stacie levitated from off the ground and her gun gets smacked away somewhere unknown, leaving her without a weapon. It startles you back to life and up to your feet within seconds, full protective mode activated when you see Beca hunched over in pain with a hissing Stacie charging at her like a rabid witch.

You think about using the shot on Stacie, but she's way too upset to be able to get the needle somewhere near her neck without being ripped to shreds in the process

And you can't shoot at the girl because like Aubrey, she's your friend.

"Chloe!" Beca grunts into a yell, calling for your attention and tosses you over her blow dart weapon she's used so many times on innocent guys.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she loaded similar darts like the shots you two had in the weapon and knowing this, you ready your aim on Stacie's quickly moving frame, using all the techniques you were taught by Beca in the past. You coach yourself to push aside the panic, the way your fingers fumble with the weapon and how your hands are trembling too much to take a clear shot, because if anything would happen to Beca, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

There's no time to be scared, Chloe, anymore. So, you clear your mind from the panic and ignore the throbbing pain at the side of your head, ease your breathing into a steady pattern and lock onto the target from where you're kneeling on the ground. Right on the bullseye, the dart lands right into the front of Stacie's throat, just under her jaw. She comes to a screeching halt and rips the dart out, but it's too late before she, as well, is collapsing into the ground.

You see Stacie fall and drop the broom like weapon, your whole body going into paralysis, you think. "Holy...shit," you breathe under your breath as you try to cope with what you just did.

"Hey, are you okay?" Beca jogs up to where you're kneeling motionless, cupping either side of your face with her hands to inspect the injury at the side of your head you no longer feel.

You think of the best way to explain how you feel. "I-I...I can like see sounds and hear colors!" Beca belly laughs and pepper kisses your cheeks; you're too much in shock to even be affected by her lips on your skin.

"It's just the adrenaline," Beca explains through her laughs. She doesn't seem to be in any pain, minus the blood on her eyebrow and the corner of her mouth.

Using your thumb, you wipe away the blood at the corner of Beca's mouth and somehow getting lost in her steely blue eyes that are holding so much praise. "You're bleeding."

Beca takes your hand to stand you up and brushes off the dirt that caught onto your shorts and shirt. "Remember, I'm a witch. I can pretty much heal anything. Is your head okay?"

You check the spot and can feel a pretty impressive bump growing, and it hurts point to touch without any sign of bleeding, but other than that you don't think you have a concussion. "Yeah….yeah I'm fine."

Beca takes it and smiles at you. "Let's get out of here before more of your 'friends' join the party."

---

Beca takes the three of you back to her cabin once you've successfully captured not only one witch, but two, who are sleeping off the potion she shot them with and hopefully are transformed back to normal by the time Stacie and Aubrey wake up. If not, that could be a pretty big problem taking that Beca has two witches held hostage under her roof that are capable of way more than you thought they were.

Like seriously, you still can't get over the image of Aubrey in a completely different element; a disgusting different element that transformed her entire appearance into a Halloween costume when on the outside she was basically perfect. From how her hair gotten so much more silky and shiny, how her eyes seemed the greenest you've ever seen them, and how her skin glowed majestically under the sun.

And Stacie basically went from super gorgeous to super super gorgeous, so nothing big was changed there, but then went to scary, knife throwing expert in the woods and tried to slice your throat open.

You wonder if that's the outcome of becoming manipulated into a witch; perfect hair, facial structures and amazing skin to die for. If that's the case, then maybe becoming one wouldn't be that bad.

You could seriously make a fashion statement with the knee high striped socks, black clothes and broomstick.

But minus the disgusting witch mask and pointy nose please and thank you.

For the most part, you've gotten over the whole kissing moment between Aubrey and Beca because, yeah, you understood why Beca had to do it. Though, you don't like admitting that you understood why your current make out partner is engaging in the same activities with your best friend, who before all this brainwash transformation happened hated everything about the freshman; Beca's clothes, her dark makeup, car, witty and kind of bitchy personality, and basically Beca's entire human presence.

But whatever.

She kisses you even harder when you guys make it to her cabin; she opens the door of the passenger side of her car as if she's letting you out, but kisses you roughly to sit back into your seat before you could stand. You two go at it in the passenger seat until you're convinced that Beca has only eyes for you and you only, and then you two move to the backseat and carry the two lifeless girls into the cabin.

With minimal (maximum) struggle that came along with throwing Stacie's limp, and rather tall frame over your shoulders, you eventually crashed the two in the guest room you stayed in previously, sleeping it off before they wake up.

Beca didn't have an issue with carrying Aubrey in it seemed like, which makes you wonder why the Hell she made you-a prissy girl carry a six foot, all legs, amazon woman up a flight of stairs and into the cabin when she didn't even break a sweat, nor seemed out of breath when you guys completed the task, unlike you who sounded like you smoked six packs a day.

Once settled, though, she allows you all the freedom in her kitchen to cook her dinner when she announces that she is going to take a shower, so being mad about doing physical work and jealous of her kissing Aubrey sort of becomes old news to the point where you don't even remember why you were these two emotions in the first place.

You are disappointed, however, when you slyly ask if her taking a shower is an invitation to join and she shoots you down faster than the suggestion is up, claiming that her food wouldn't be done if you were to join her.

And then you think to yourself that she could take a shower and be fed all at the same time, but you stop yourself from voicing it out loud, because you don't know what has gotten into you lately, but sex is literally all you can think about when you're around the girl.

Beca has a kitchen full of unopened supplies, you notice once opening the doors and pantries and are left with endless possibilities of options on what to cook for everyone tonight. You want to cook something not too big, but something delicious, more delicious than Beca's grilled cheese she seems to live off of.

Chicken is the entree you go with and freshly cut green beans and mash potatoes are the side winners. As you finish seasoning the chicken and stick it into the stove to cook, two strong hands grip at your waist from behind and the smell of someone who just got out of the shower hits your senses. Turning around, you barely have time to greet Beca, who has damp hair and is changed into more comfortable clothes before your mouth is being occupied by hers.

"I really want a cigarette," Beca admits over your mouth before you could even ask what has gotten into her all of a sudden to push you up against the counter, grabby hands search out for your bottom to lift you up to sit before taking place between your legs and kisses you aggressively without any warnings whatsoever.

You giggle across Beca's lips in between rough sucks and nips from her teeth at how you've taken place as her own personal case of Nicorette gum. "Glad I can help," you mumble breathlessly into her mouth before gasping from Beca's hands sliding under your shirt and up to your chest before she's groping at the skin and wow, okay, talk about a dive right into second base.

Not that you're complaining.

And okay, maybe a rush of pride takes over at the fact that your lips and kissing abilities are irresistible and enough to outweigh any withdrawal Beca may have, though, you were insanely nervous about how good you were doing, but obviously it's not an issue since Beca keeps on coming back to you and would chose your lips over a cigarette.

What an accomplishment.

At least she chose you instead of Aubrey this time around, but you're not salty about it still.

Not one bit.

Due to the unplanned, spur of the moment make out session that took place in the kitchen while you were cooking, you ended up burning the food when Beca's mouth gained all your attention, making you forget about the chicken you had placed in the oven before she assaulted your mouth in the best possible way.

The buzzer on the stove and smoke spilling past the barriers that signaled the fire alarm to go off also put quite the damper on the mood, stopping the two of you from having crazy, hot and steamy possessive sex like you planned on doing as a reminder to who Beca belongs to, no matter how insanely crazy that may sound, especially once your shirt came off, followed quickly by hers, and hands began roaming in places you never thought they'd venture.

Well, anytime soon, that is.

But you have to admit that you were glad the two of you were interrupted, preventing anything pass the groping and rough kissing to happen, because even though your lower...region was screaming at Beca for her to touch you, intimately, the thought of sex right now gives you mixed emotions.

One second, the thought about sex with Beca excites you to no other. You know Beca is very experienced in the 'pleasing a lady' department, if not by her verbal admitting to not being a virgin and having multiple sexual partners, it's definitely by the way she works her tongue, knowing all the kinks and buttons to turn you on like a hot summer stove.

But the next second you feel nervous, and fidgety, scared that if you were to have sex with Beca you'd ruin it somehow with your inexperienced prudeness and she'll probably end up avoiding you for the rest of the school year because you don't know how to thoroughly please a girl. Then on top of all the nerves, you feel very, very nauseous, the warm tingly flutters mixing with the nervous flutters and spinning your head into a queasy mess.

Oh well, not that Beca is pushing it or anything.

Maybe you'll get over your hot and cold behavior and decide to go all the way after the two of you have the much needed talk as to what you guys are exactly. You might be head over heels for the girl, so wrapped up in everything that Beca is that you're basically a pretzel, but sleezy is a trait you'll never act upon and sorry, but one night stands and random hook ups aren't your style and never will be.

Until then, you enjoy all this second base, chest touching, spontaneous, handsy make out sessions randomly throughout the day.

Well, today, since Beca attacking your face become a thing at the Bellas' Rush, which four people randomly snuck out of the party and never came back, three of them happened to be current Bella members and you know for a fact that brought some questions to Gail and Kommissar as to where a good chunk of their college sorority girl cult went.

And honestly, boobs, other than your own and on occasion and by accidental slip, Aubrey's, so much better than you ever expected them to be.

So, after you get the fire alarm to turn off, open all the windows to clear out the cabin from all the smoke, you guys end up ordering Chinese food, which is way better because you get to listen to her mixes all night and soak in the amazingness of both the food and the music, so it's a win win overall.

And you guys get to kiss some more, which could out beat a five star steak any day.

"I cannot believe we were able to kidnap not just one witch, but two of them!" you squeal excitedly as you change into the spare pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt Beca put out for you to get out of the uncomfortable bikini you had on all day. "And...I shot one of them!"

"I can tell the adrenaline is still buzzing in you," Beca snorts from where she's perched up on her bed, back against the head rest, one leg bent up while the other lays out straight on the mattress. She also ditched the leather jacket, skinny jeans and boots, changing into a simple black t-shirt and sweats. "Also, you look really fucking cute in my clothes."

You perform a catwalk, posing type thing for Beca to properly display her clothes, grab at the flannel that's unbutton and do a little shimmy for the girl. It earns a few chuckles until you're being beckoned over to the empty space besides the brunette. Plopping down into the space, you don't hesitate when clinging onto Beca's torso, similar to how you guys were laying the night she snuck into your room and gave you the closest feeling to a heart attack you have ever experienced.

You sigh contently at Beca's fingertips grazing along the skin on your shoulder and how secure you feel wrapped up in her arms. "I think I like this whole witch stuff. We could get matching leather jackets or matching tattoos." You mention when you graze your thumb over Beca's earphones tattoo on her wrist.

"I do like you in leather," Beca chuckles and you know she's smirking above where you're resting your head as she remembers one outfit in specific that included some leather, along with those thigh high boots that left her speechless. "And a tattoo? How rebellious of you. What do you want? An infinity sign or a dream catcher?"

"A ladybug," you retort, ignoring Beca's other two options that are definitely the basic, go-to girl tattoos that you see pictures of all over. "On my wrist."

"Why?" Beca ditches the sarcasm and genuinely seems curious about you choice in ink that you want, but aren't sure you'll ever end up getting.

You shrug your shoulders. "Ladybugs are considered lucky and harmless, like me, though I can kick some ass when it's needed."

Beca laughs loudly. "Oh trust me, I know. Wouldn't ever want to make you upset."

"Good you shouldn't; I'll mess you up," you threaten unconvincingly and you enjoy all the laughs you're rewarded with from Beca. She has such a contagious, cute laugh that you wish you could listen to it forever. "But I haven't gotten one like I want to. Since like… a couple days ago. I've always been too scared to get one. I don't know how, but I've built up an extra layer of thick skin over these past weeks and I have no one else to blame but you."

"Guilty as charged." Beca snickers, not even a ounce of sorry in her voice.

"I don't know what it is but it feels like I've been in a coma, like, I don't remember who I was before I met you," you admit softly, not that it was a complete bad thing that you don't remember who you were previously because you kind of didn't enjoy being that Chloe. This Chloe is adventurous, fun, takes no shit and punches people, so that's an automatic like.

"I bet you were the amazing, clingy, overly bubbly girl you are now, minus the sniper level shooting skills and vulgar choice of words."

You take a moment to think about this. A lot about you has changed since you met the freshman, but the occurrence of colorful language in your daily speech and thoughts has became more frequent. "I have been cursing more since I've been hanging out with you," you realize and then smack Beca in the stomach. "You're a bad influence!"

Beca is laughing, but grunts when your hand hits her stomach. You're laughing, as well, though your grandmother would have made you washed your mouth out with a whole package of the strongest scented bar soaps in the store if she heard your vocabulary recently.

"It's not a bad thing. In fact, I think it's really hot." You lift your head from Beca's chest to look at her, unsure if she's just being sarcastic or if she actually means it. Sensing your conflict, "seriously. Nothing like hearing a sweet and innocent girl drop the f bomb. Shit fucks me up."

"Good to know," you throw a playful wink at Beca and return to your previous position, cuddling even closer to take advantage of the closeness. "I can't believe I'm having an identity crisis. Maybe I should recreate my identity, start off fresh. Oh! I could be like Scarlett Johansson in the movie Under My Skin and seduce and kill men after using them, especially now that I'm trained with a gun."

"That the girl with the lips?" You lift your head off Beca's chest for an entirely different reason this time. Shock is the main reason why your eyes are saucers and eyebrows are shot up past your hairline.

Beca has to be joking. There's no way she doesn't know the first girl in cinema to win the title of your first ever girl crush. Chances are, Beca has met this celebrity taking that she's super famous with music and all and someone who goes to fancy events with fancy champagne, along with fancy people and stuff.

"You don't know Scarlett Johansson?" Beca doesn't reply; she only gives you a blank face with the occasional blink that even you can see through the darkness of the room. "He's Just Not That Into You?" Again, Beca doesn't respond and you scoff, amazed once again by the girl. "Really?! Black Widow in The Avengers, no?" Beca gives off the same blank face and you could've sworn this movie would've rang a bell taking that she's all into action stuff because she's a witch hunter and all.

"I only kind of know the name because she's a fan of my music and I think she follows me a Twitter." Beca shrugs after finally speaking and how she just dropped this news so casually and how it's no big deal is way beyond you. "She's hot though."

"No shit she's hot!" You ignore the way you can feel Beca's smirk grow in size under the darkness at the choice of wording. "Along with her costar, Jennifer Connelly, in He's Just Not That Into You."

"I don't know who that is...or the movie."

You roll your eyes even though you know Beca can't see it. The point you're trying to get across is that she's ludacris; the movie was basically the Bible in girl world. That, The Notebook and Mean Girls, of course. "What movies have you seen, picky?"

"None," Beca answers curtly. "I don't like them." This time you're the one absent of a response and can only blink blankly at Beca with what she just admitted to. "Though I did watch a porno at a high school party, I like that one."

Disregarding the added comment about watching porn even though it tugged a smile out of you at how ridiculous this girl is, "huh, interesting," you finally find something to respond back with-though you're still stuck on the fact that Beca doesn't enjoy movies, which is strange, but everyone likes and dislikes different things, which is why you don't hassle or lecture her into liking something she doesn't. "I don't like chocolate ice cream and when I tell people, it's like I told them I just admitted to kicking their dog."

There's a brief pause of silence of Beca just staring at you. "You never cease to amaze me, Red." You can sense the astonishment in Beca's voice with the route you've taken the conversation. "Usually I have to go on with a spiel as to why I don't like movies after I get lectured about not liking them, so not hearing it this time around is equally surprising as it is reassuring."

"I mean, it's...new," you start, unable to find the right word to express the abnormality with Beca not liking movies. "Hearing that someone doesn't like movies, but who am I to force you into liking something that you don't?" Beca nods her head as she listens, but grabs her remote that controls the stereo system in her room to change the song that just cued up and you slap the remote out of her hand. "Except if it's "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel then I'm going to imprint the lyrics inside your head until you adore everything there is about the song!" you threaten and yank the remote farther away from Beca so it's out of reach when the girl tries diving for it again.

"God, I fucking hate this song," Beca complains like a downright four year old having a tantrum, loling her head back into the wooden material of the headrest connected to her bed. "It's the worst."

"This is a classic, Beca! I know you don't like movies, but Say Anything where this song and John Cusack's signature jukebox serenade happens outside her window was the most heartrending, beautifying, most famous movie shots caught on camera!"

"Actually, that's kind of really fucking creepy," Beca battles back.

You gasp out loud, unable to find words this time, because Beca may have just committed the biggest sin in the music books.

Beca just laughs softly to herself and the only noise around the two of you is the sweet melody of Peter's chart topper and beautiful voice, bringing back a whole wave of nostalgia in memory of one of your favorite movies.

"Aubrey and I would watch that movie on repeat under tubs of ice cream and chocolate, dreaming of the day someone special serenades us in the middle of the night," you sigh dreamy, the thought still brings chills to your skin, but chances are this whole scenario would never happen. People are so 2017 now, with the fancy iPhones, and the DMs and the Tinder that they wouldn't even know true, romantic gestures if they were slapped in the face by them.

"Oh I bet." You smack Beca again, half because she sassed you with the sarcasm and half because she's hating on an amazing song and a little bit because you know she thinks you're being that girl who is full of gross, hopeless dreams that will never come true.

The song is great, though. What are the odds of you belting out in song for the girl to rub it in her face the captivating lyrics the song brings?

None, apparently, because soon, you're pulled back into place over Beca's chest; she returns her hand to trace invisible patterns over your shoulder and you go back into her warm, comfortable embrace, soaking in the sweet, delicious scent of vanilla mixed with orange chicken.

And not to sound insanely cheesy and nauseating, but you never thought a person could feel like paradise, in a way, but that was before you ran into Beca and before the two of you started this whole little deal that requires adventurous make outs throughout the day.

It makes you wonder if this whole deal is a first for Beca, or if she has been caught in a lot of...whatever this is that you two are currently doing.

"What was your first time like?" You ask all of a sudden from where your head is resting on Beca's chest while your fingers play with hers on top of her stomach.

You've always dreamt of your first time being gentle, and special and with someone who you can actually admit to loving. It makes you wonder if Beca's first time was like that, though you don't know how you would exactly feel if it was.

"Couldn't tell ya," Beca answers while her fingernails from where her arm is hooked around your shoulder trails up and down your skin lightly. "I hardly remember it because I was so drunk. What I do remember was that it was fucking hot."

"You don't remember the first time you had sex with somebody?" You ask for clarification because what you got so far is preposterous. "Like at all?"

"I know it was with a hot girl back in LA once I moved out there. She was a bartender at a club and happened to catch my fake I tried to buy alcohol with. One thing lead to another and I woke up the next morning in her apartment, packed my stuff together and left. Haven't heard nor seen her since. Sex was good though, from what I can remember."

"Seriously?" The jealousy is back before you know it and it alters the snap in your tone. You raise your head up from Beca's chest, both of your eyes mirror each other with twin narrow glares, but yours by far is more intimidating for once. "Random hook ups? How much have you had? Why did you have so many? Why do you do it? How could you just leave after having sex?"

Beca chuckles despite her obvious confrontation of questions and your burning glare she's the star under. "I told you, I don't date."

"So you'd rather go around having sex with random people who you have no connection with in dirty, club bathroom stalls?"

Beca squints and looks at you sideways. "Okay, that was very...detailed."

Ignoring the last comment and instead, more focused on the one question you've been dying to hear the answer to since the first lip lock you two engaged in back at the Bellas' house. "If you don't date, Beca, what are we?" You ask that last part in a tone barely above a whisper, scared shitless about what she's going to say.

And it doesn't help the nerves when she doesn't respond right away, filling the aroma around you two with thick, uncomfortable silence under the darkness of her bedroom.

Which is just reassuring.

Not.

Eventually noise other than awkward silence fills the air in the room, but you hate that fact that it's light chuckles coming from Beca who obviously thinks something about you trying to figure out a label for the two of you guys is humorous when it definitely isn't. Beca Mitchell, expert at laughing at the worst possible times.

"We are two girls who hunt witches and happen to make out on our free time," Beca finally says and you've wanted to do many things to that irritatingly sexy smirk of hers that mostly revolves around kissing it, but right now you want to flick it away because Beca is so not taking this conversation seriously.

"So that's it?" You allow yourself to snicker, but it's a sarcastic, I can't believe she just said that snicker. You cock your jaw, eyebrows knitted together and eyes squinted when you look at Beca.

The girl must be burning up because she is walking on thin ice right now. Any other comment dropped that mentions how you two make out so everything should be fine and Beca is getting dunked.

Beca groans exasperated, running a hand through her hair before her fingers fist a tight grip at the crown, and you know it's Beca's warning that she is becoming irritated. "I already told you I liked you, didn't I? We've made out multiple times today, just like you've been wanting. Isn't that enough? Why does there always have to be something more?"

That's it. Beca has officially hit a nerve causing you to stand up abruptly from her grip and flip on the bedside lamp to make sure she has a good look at how her words just affected you negatively. "Because I'm not a piece of meat, Beca! I'm not someone who goes around throwing themselves at people, giving them everything when I get nothing in return!" You pause your rant and Beca assumes it's her chance to talk, but you quickly cut her off when more rage surfaces your body. "And why there has to be more? I don't know, Beca. Normal people label things like this-things like making out and getting all touchy feely with each other!"

"I'm not a normal person, Chloe," is Beca's monotone response along with her blank, emotionless face.

"I understand that; you're a witch, but also a witch hunter and have a secret celebrity life away from Barden and are super talented with scary weapons, kay cool! But you can't kiss me like you've been doing and not expect the feelings already built towards you to grow bigger," you explain in mid pace, waving your hands up in the air all over the place and looking very like a very animated, angry redhead done playing this hot and cold shit from Beca. Whiplash is not a comfortable feeling.

"I don't know what you want from me," Beca admits clipped with a stone cold face, and you can see her tightening her jaw to the point of possibly shattering teeth. Her hands are fisted together above her lap and her body is turned away from where you're standing, but her attention is glued to you like you're the last person left on Earth.

You go through a series of possibilities as to why Beca is behaving the way she is and settle on one in particular; one that you really wish isn't true. "Is it because I'm a virgin?" Your voice is barely above a whisper when you ask, all pacing and hand motions halted for now.

"I mean," Beca starts her sentence deep in thought and you tense because that's not the response you expected at all. "Yeah," she admits and doesn't realize how this confession of hers hypothetically crushes you into the ground by the hefty size boulder this word turned out to be. She doesn't, however miss the wash of hurt masking your face and how your eyes stretched wide enough to shrink your hole forehead. "But it's not what you think it is." She scrambles to find better wording, but the pain from the previous excuse is already present.

"Oh that's reassuring," you mock sarcastically and start your process of packing your belongings, which consist of your swimsuit, flip flops and the half full beer you guys opened at dinner. "You know what, I'm leaving. It's obvious you need space and time to think about this and honestly, I just want to kiss you and strangle you all at the same time, so bye."

"Where are you going?" Beca's amusement is peeking out of her tone as she watches you scan the room with all your stuff flooding your arms. "We could just kiss and stuff, forget about this whole little talk that you wanted in the first place."

Annoyed, you lift your head from where you are bent down, picking up your flip flops, hair blanketed over your face and you have to huff out air to blow it away. "I'm not a hussy, Beca! You might be into all this no label, doesn't mean anything hookups, but I'm not," you finish explaining as you pick up your last item, which is your cell phone and read that it's pretty late anyways. You planned on staying with Beca, but who knows if you'd wake up with the girl since she has a habit of dipping out all the time. "And no matter how bad I want to kiss your stupid face, I'm not going to let myself fall down the rabbit hole of being someone's punching bag, but instead of punching, I'm used only for pleasure."

Beca tries to cover her snickers in time before they come out, but fails completely, and you send her the nastiest glare you could come up with. Her eyes squinting from how she laughs would've been a dead give away, anyways, so all in all, the tactic would've been pointless.

What was it that she thought was so funny, you ask? Well, now that's something you don't fully understand nor have the patience right now to figure it out. You're too upset with the talk that you've been looking forward to since the first time Beca kissed you and how it turned out. So, you stomp away to the closed door connected to the bedroom, leaving a cloud of imaginary smoke that came out from your ears and a smirking little devil on the bed to hopefully think about what she's done to you.

"Where do you plan on going? You do know this place is forty miles away from Barden, hidden from any form of civilization in the middle of a deserted forest? And that's not including that it's night time." Beca reels you back in by a throwing a lasso over your upper body, stopping you dead in your tracks from reaching the door and turning you around.

You open your mouth as if you had a plan to prove all of Beca's logic wrong, but you don't, so your mouth just hangs there wordless while you think this whole temper tantrum through. Not only are you stuck without a car to get back to Barden with the one person you're trying to get away from, but you were also driven to this cabin by that one person and she's the only one who can take you back. If that's not the most embarrassing thing you have done, geesh.

"You could stay in the guest room with Aubrey and Stacie- though I don't know how you'd feel about spooning with two former witches." You almost laugh at this if it isn't for the cheek bite you have to do to prevent you from doing so. It also doesn't help that Beca's smile is beaming brighter than the sun from where she's moving off the bed to hang her legs off the edge and how her feet don't touch the hardwood floor.

She's so tiny and adorable yet so badass and intimidating all at the same time.

She's also a pain in your ass.

"Or I could drive you back?" Beca suggests and having no other choice here because walking forty miles in flip flops screams multiple tetanus infections, you nod your head, agreeing to the ride Beca offered.

"Aubrey and Stacie are coming with me back to the Bellas', as well," you add in your two cents.

"No can do, Red." Beca is quick to turn this request down. "Aubrey and Stacie need to stay here with me. It's bad enough that you're living in the Bellas' house while faking everything, three would definitely blow our cover. Losing Stacie and Aubrey in the army isn't much of an issue, but losing you, an important piece in their giant spell would cause quite the kaos. Chances are Aubrey and Stacie's absence won't even be noticed."

Great.

Perfect.

Splendid.

Basically what Beca is saying is that Aubrey and Stacie get to mute out their whole college student life and have this private, secluded vacation away from the mess the Bellas' house is turning into while you get to go back and act like everything is fine and dandy. How is any part of that scenario one, fair, and two, okay in any shape or form?

Beca senses your confusion and slight anger (maybe jealousy...probably jealously) and continues on with her explanation. "It's only for a little bit. Technically, we only have seven weeks and three days until the blood moon. I'll train them with everything I can and Luke could even help. Of course, them being missing, along with those two random guys they abducted will have Barden on lock down, though I expect some sort of tricks up Gail's sleeve that I'm not too sure of, but I know it's coming."

You don't really know what to say to this and you're positive you don't remember how to form words because things are starting to get really real now. Everything is now going at a hundred miles per hour and it's all happening so fast for your liking and you just really wished for it to be less scary and complicated and more easy.

And maybe cross out the whole witch deal because without it, this situation would be a piece of cake.

Beca continues on when no response other than a blank face comes from you. "So, I'll take you back to the Bellas' and let me know the atmosphere of the house. I highly doubt it will change, maybe get more creepier, but that's it."

You snort when Beca says this. That's a good thing to look forward to. When you didn't think the house could get anymore creepier, chances are it's going to.

"Chlo, things are about to get intense, especially with the kidnappings. I want to make sure you're cool with this."

"I'm fine," you snap back with your tone clipped, crossing your arms above your chest.

Mostly, you're still upset about how Beca doesn't exactly want to label you guys, which is basically a stab to the heart with a machete knife rejection, and you just found out that Aubrey and Stacie-mostly Aubrey since she just kissed Beca not too long ago- gets to stay in this fancy cabin with Beca while you're shooting your brains out from classes.

"Good, I'm glad," Beca's voice is soft, maybe because she knows that she's walking on thin ice with you right now.

As you're opening the door to continue your stomping out to Beca's car, two girls; one holding a baseball bat and the other holding a frying pan stop you from doing so and in unison, all three of you scream bloody murder before you slam the door into the intruder's face. Panting due to fear and how Beca suddenly teleported to your side and is now holding her butterfly knife out in front, she slowly creeps open the door to find Stacie and Aubrey on the other side.

"Chloe?!" Aubrey screeches when she sees you again and throws the frying pan she is holding into the ground. Stacie's posture also eases up once she sees your face, but Beca's stance is more cautious. "Where the Hell are we?! Why are we here?!" Aubrey switches her glare to Beca, who is currently holding a knife up to her face. "Why is she here?!"

You keep a hard stare on your friend while she freaks out. Good news, she hasn't tried to kill you or Beca yet, which is reassuring and means that the black potion worked. They also seem extremely confused and scared, like they've been blacked out for weeks now, which makes sense because their brains were in the hands of someone else.

"Looks like you have some explaining to do since, you know, they'll be joining you for dinners now," you say bitterly with squinted eyes on Beca and she still has on an apologetic face that seems to be doing nothing. "And you," you walk the remaining distance over to Aubrey and without putting any thought along with your actions, you slap her across the face, ignoring Aubrey's confused exclamations in pain as she holds her cheek. "That's for kissing Beca."

And with that, you leave the scene; you leave Stacie who is all around baffled that you slapped Aubrey and is ushering to the blonde for comfort. You leave Aubrey who's cursing from the sting and leave Beca who looks as if she's enjoying the scene a little too much.

---

The next day after the rush, the Bella's received hundreds of pledges from girls all over Barden and hands down, it's the most that the Bellas' have ever gotten, period, since the first year the Bellas' sorority became a legit thing. Gail and Kommissar, you assume, are they ones taking over who gets into the Bellas' and who is lucky enough to stay away from this Hell hole, literally.

By the time Beca dropped you off at the house last night, you were surprised to see the rush still taking place. Of course, less people were there at night when you showed up compared to when you were there in the afternoon, but how the music was still boomin' and the puke and ralliers were still fighting strong, it was impressive to say the least.

Gail and Kommissar were also MIA when you showed up at the house, and same with all of your sisters...now that you're thinking about it, but Beca tells you that they're probably taking care of the guys Stacie and Aubrey lured out into the nest, which then makes sense as to why everyone besides you is at the Bellas' house.

Well everyone except you, Aubrey and Stacie, who are more than a little shaken up about what is happening at Barden after Beca and you tried to explain it to them, but weren't budging so easy, as expected. They did, however, agree to training with Beca; Aubrey mostly because she wanted to keep Gail and Kommissar from ruining the name and history behind the Bellas' and Stacie because she admitted to wanting to shoot a gun or has a strange talent for throwing knives.

And also because even without the succubus rum messing with their heads, the both of them still had something strange going on between them, which is reassuring knowing that they are interested in each other rather than Beca, their soon to be drill Sergeant once training comes around.

Not that you care, because Beca right now, for the first time ever, is not on your favorite list.

And that's why you've been ignoring all her texts and denying all her calls, not wanting to talk to the girl who can't express how she really feels towards you because of the little fact that you're a virgin, which is just complete bullshit, to be honest.

So, that leads you to why you're currently and have been locked up inside your room, painting your toenails, coincidentally listening to Pat Benatar's "Love is a Battlefield" in the background and trying your hardest not to think of Beca and how you really just want to talk to her to get rid of this unbearable heart cramp that you've been given since the moment you slammed the passenger door in Beca's face last night.

Or you just want to kiss her senselessly because her lips pressed roughly against yours are long over due, but whatever.

Believe me, Believe me,

I can't tell you why.

But I'm trapped by your love

And I'm chained to your side

You're on your pinky toe when you pause the painting and get hit with major feels from this verse of the song; Pat Benatar's raspy, aggressive voice expressing everything you're feeling in this moment with Beca.

Like she knows exactly how you feel, or is strangely stuck inside your messed up head filled with a plethora of thoughts all revolving around Beca Mitchell herself.

We are young

Heartache to heartache we stand

No promises, No demands

Love is a battlefield

"Ain't that right," you mutter to yourself at the lyrics, not even caring that talking to yourself is crazy, maybe even borderline schizophrenic.

But Beca does that to you. Transforms you into a lovesick, lunatic with a bunch of weird, scary feelings that you have no idea what to do with them, especially if they're not reciprocated in the right way like you hoped.

You're just about to get back to painting your last toe until you hear music outside of window, but it's too muffled to hear what the actual song is. Curious to what's going on, you twist on the top of the nail polish to the bottle and set it on your desk before cautiously walking over to your window like a penguin, toes pointed upwards to avoid them touching the ground and possibly messing up the cherry red color.

As you're opening your window, the lyrics to "Can't Fight This Feeling" blares through your room, REO Speedwagon's hit song replacing Pat Benatar's and you look down into the street where the music is coming from, completely taken off guard to see Beca leaning against her car's door, holding up her beats pill in the air, mirroring John Cusack in one of the best romantic movies, Say Anything, and your heart gets hit full blast with emotions.

But not only that, she's singing along with the song in the middle of the street and hearing her voice overpowering Kevin Cronin's vocals is enough to make you swoon and melt all at the same time.

And maybe you feel like crying, you don't know.

Thank God it's nighttime and she's down there while you're stuck up high just so she couldn't tease you about how your toenails, hair and face are all sporting the same color.

Beca looks up at your window, her usual smirk planted on her face from where she is standing below your room. "It's not "In Your Eyes," but I was being serious when I said I can't fucking stand that song."

You giggle at Beca's yells over the music, shaking your head in case you might be hallucinating this whole scene, because serenading someone in the middle of the night outside their window with a speaker held above her head isn't something you would've expected Beca to do.

"Since you aren't answering my calls, I decided this is my only option."

"Are you insane?" you finally ask and don't even try to cover up the megawatt smile glowing over your face as you perch yourself on the window ledge to look down at Beca, how much you truly missed her only then hitting you like a ton of bricks.

No matter how much the unexpected surprise is appreciated, perhaps more than it should be, the chances of Beca getting caught here by one of your sisters is very possible.

Something about blaring music at night time when people should be sleeping would attract quite the attention from others, even though Gail and Kommissar are again, gone somewhere, but the chances of them coming back from wherever they were is terrifying.

But Beca's melodic voice is already greatly missed.

God, it's so crazy to hear such a small little girl have such gigantic pipes.

Beca shrugs her shoulders, turning the volume down on her phone so she doesn't have to yell anymore. "Maybe I am insane, who knows. What I do know is that nothing really makes sense anymore. Everything that I use to think and go by is history now that I've met you."

Though you're loving the route where this conversation is going-already a hundred times better than the last talk you had with Beca- the annoying itch of getting caught is at an all time high. "Beca, you can't be here right now. You know how risky all of this is?" Beca just shrugs her shoulders in a I don't care type of way, and you shake your head. This girl is incorrigible in the cutest freaking way. "Come up here."

Immediately, Beca takes the invitation and starts her process of climbing up the tree like she did the first time she snuck into your room. As she is busy playing monkey outside your window, you take the time to fluff your hair and make yourself presentable, not even caring that you messed up your wet toenails in the process.

Luckily, not much work needed to be done since you are wearing casual sleep shorts and a white tank top under Beca's black and white flannel she gave you yesterday; nothing too lazy nor fancy, but good enough for a guest.

Beca jumps into your room without a scratch, bump or bruise from climbing up the tree and her hair still looks amazing. She's also not even breathing heavy which makes you want to believe she's some sort of bionic woman. As she straightens out her leather jacket, you walk over to face her and notice a new glimmer caught in those stormy blues that have hooked you since the first time you've seen them.

"You still look cute in my clothes."

You look down at your outfit and shrug, mostly because you feel your face getting hot.

"Thanks for ignoring me, by the way," Beca jokes sarcastically and you're already on your way to apologize for this hypocritical move you just pulled on Beca when before, you wanted to strangle her for doing the same to you. But, she stops you from doing so. "No, seriously. You not talking to me sucked, God it fucking sucked even though it was just a day, but it gave me time to think."

Without initiating the physical contact again, Beca reaches out and takes your hands, the chill from her fingers and silver rings covering them raises goosebumps over your skin and all in all, your heart stops beating completely. It is such a small gesture-hand holding and stuff like elementary kids, but it's still not something you're use to. Just like how you're not use to Beca looking at you the way she has been recently and are positive you'll never get use to it.

"I can't fight these feelings I have towards you anymore; you're like an infection that I can't stop thinking about," Beca admits genuinely; you can see the sincerity laced in her voice and it glowing in her eyes. "Hence the song I just openly belted for you outside, you're welcome."

You giggle at Beca's eye roll and how she tries to cover up her romantic gestures by annoyance, but you know her well enough to know she's not annoyed by any of it. "You have a lovely voice, by the way," you compliment with a grin, the trueness of how beautiful Beca's voice just isn't possible with only words. "Though I thought you hated movies."

"Oh I can't fucking stand them, but I took your word and was able to get through one in particular since I had no one to talk to all day...barely. I might've fell asleep a few times." You snicker again at Beca's honesty with a shake to your head and are still surprised to see her hands still tangled up in yours. "But it helped me realize that you've fucked me up in the best possible way."

"You going to start singing again?" You hide your eagerness towards what point Beca is trying to make by a joke and your insides do somersaults by witnessing her smile; a kind of smile you are sure will never get old. She's so pretty, holy crap. How can someone be this freaking pretty without even knowing it?

"Hush," Beca laughs through her kryptonite smile and surprises you once again by detaching one of her hands from yours and replaces it with your hip, pulling you in closer to her. So close you can smell that vanilla scent of hers and the fading smell of cigarettes on her jacket now that Beca has officially stopped smoking. "I'm over here serenading you with shitty songs, trying to trap you into being my girlfriend and you're over here making jokes?"

You don't allow your eyes to bulge, nor do you allow your knees to buckle at the subtle and extremely sneaky way she just dropped the g-word to hit you straight in the gut like Hiroshima. Instead, you take secretive, easy, and deep breaths to calm your breathing patterns, getting a hold of your excitement to keep a poker face and not fold over by the squealing giddiness threatening to make a scene.

"Oh, you want me to be your girlfriend now?" You repeat Beca's words playfully, the label having the same effects, perhaps even amplifying them, but it gets you a warm chuckle from Beca instead of an eye roll and a glorious sound like that could make up for anything, you think. "Not just using me for my body?"

Beca's other hand joins your waist and her thumbs rub circles against your skin above the brim of your shorts, somehow having slid up your tank top without you noticing. Either way, the touches light your skin on fire underneath. She nods her head, smile still glued on you. "I mean...yeah. I'll probably suck at it and we'll get on each other's nerves; it's inevitable, but now, after fighting off my obvious feelings towards you, I understand that I might be an awful girlfriend who doesn't know what she's doing, but I at least want to try it for the first time with you."

You bounce your head side to side as you fake like you're trying to think whether or not you should agree to this suggestion when you already know the answer. "Eh, I don't know." Beca squints and looks at you sideways, as if she expected you to be hooked already without so much of a thought to what she's asking for.

"Seriously? You've been dying to be my girlfriend since the first second I met you." The grips caging your waist from Beca's hands tightens and something inside your stomach boils at the sudden hotness the situation transformed into.

You scoff, though you hate to admit it is kinda the truth, but Beca doesn't need to know that. "That was before I got to know the real you and found out that you hate movies and Peter Gabriel." You can't even talk without your smile somehow increasing in length over your face, proving that one, you're an awful liar, and two, you're so wrapped up in Beca that people should be calling you a pretzel. "Guess you missed your chance, Becs," you tease with a grin, shrugging one of your shoulders.

Beca blinks blankly at you for a second until her smirk is back a bigger than you've ever seen it. "God, you're the worst." And you laugh at this for as long as you can until you're being silence by Beca's lips pressed on yours and she's pushing you back onto your bed before climbing up to straddle your thighs without breaking the kiss.

You, however, get a few swipes of your tongue on Beca's before your hand knotted in her hair goes down to her chest and pushes her away, breaking apart your lips to fill the air with heavy, ragged breaths. "I know you can change after not being one who has ever been committed romantically with someone else, but promise me you won't change too much?"

Beca looks down from where she's leaning down over you, her hair now curtaining over one side of her face and for the first time, Beca is actually looking at you like you've been lost to her for a thousand years and she finally found you. Stumbling upon this friendship that bloomed into so, so much more, all taking place in the courtyard of Barden University.

She takes one of her hands and combs a piece of your hair not sprawled against your bed sheet behind your ear and lingers the palm of her hand on the side of your cheek. "I promise." And this time when she leans back down to kiss you and you feel her smiling into the kiss when your lips meet, all the air in your body gets sucked right out and you're left with a feeling you've never felt in your life.

Like before, your hands find their way to tangle into Beca's hair, one of her hands finds the fastest route under your tank top while the other takes place at the side of your neck, holding your head in place as she kisses you harder than all the previous times, but nonetheless still passionate and soft. It's all the same regarding positioning and the sparks going off once your lips meet, the same roughness mixed with passion is still there.

Everything going on in and out of the kiss is no different from all the other previous lips locks, yet this time when you kiss Beca, it feels different.

Like there's closure, finally, after being lost for so long.

And how this time when you kiss Beca and she kisses you back, you feel content, that even though you are fighting for your life while living in a house full of witches, your life is pretty damn perfect right now.

And there's no place you'd rather be if it's not with Beca by your side.