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beca-mitchell · 6 years ago

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never grow up (winter wonderland) (1/1)

Summary: A series of snippets—Beca and Chloe spend their holidays in Seattle. A rare heavy snowfall makes for baby Emma’s first white Christmas.

Please see @asimplefavors’ winter photoset here. the captions/headings match up with her captions on the social media AU. An impromptu collab!

Also yes, please listen to Taylor Swift’s “Never Grow Up” in the background.

Word count: 3521

Read below or on AO3.

chloebeale: pretending that it’s not 20° outside #hellowashington

Beca is stunned as the plane lands and Emma continues to sleep contentedly in Chloe’s arms.

“What?” Chloe asks, a light laugh escaping her when she takes in Beca’s bewildered expression.

“She’s perfect,” Beca says, a hint of awe creeping into her voice.

“You’re such a nerd,” Chloe teases.

“That’s my line,” Beca parries back, but she is sufficiently distracted when Emma blinks awake, almost on cue. “Hi,” she says softly. “Hi, we’re in Seattle now. Can you say Seattle?”

Emma’s fist shoots out—shockingly agile for a baby—and she attempts to immediately grab onto Chloe’s hair.

“She’s already nervous,” Beca comments.

Chloe snorts. “Are you sure that’s not just you talking?”

Beca ignores her, reaching out to hold Emma in her arms. “Can you say Washington?” Emma makes a sound that sounds happy enough. “Good job,” Beca praises. “You’re so talented.”

“Your mom’s going to love her,” Chloe says softly. “She loves you and she’s going to love Emma.”

— — — — —

chloebeale: mama refused to wear the matching socks

“Please,” Chloe tries again. She barely resists from laughing because Beca looks legitimately afraid of the animal socks.

“Chloe, you know fuzzy socks make me feel weird. Like the sound styrofoam makes. But for my feet. I hate it.”

At that, Chloe frowns in sympathy because she does know that. The socks admittedly are fuzzy, but not horrendously so and Chloe hadn’t really thought about it when she bought the matching set for their family. Emma kicks her feet out, clearly delighted by the cartoon animal on her feet.

Emma babbles happily then looks up at Chloe, leaning all the way back into her stomach from where she sits, perched between Chloe’s outstretched legs. “Yes,” Chloe replies cheerfully. “A penguin!”

Beca falters as she watches her wife and daughter interact. Chloe is talking animatedly to Emma—Emma who is trying to grab at her own feet, clearly invested in the socks decorating her feet.

All at once, Beca is amazed at how fast Emma has grown—it was definitely only just yesterday when a small, squirming bundle was handed to her and Beca hadn’t realized she was crying until a small tear had landed on the wrap surrounding her baby.

Her baby.

Hers and Chloe’s.

“Where are you going?” Chloe asks, from where she is still sitting in the middle of Beca’s mother’s living room. Beca rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, still unable to keep the smile off her face.

“Going to get the socks so we can match.”

Chloe gasps excitedly and Emma, clearly not wanting to be left out begins to giggle, though it comes out more as a gurgle.

“Mama’s going to match!” Chloe is telling Emma happily.

The things Beca does for this family.

— — — — —

chloebeale: YOU’RE KIDDING ME!!!!

Chloe swears she turns around for two seconds.

Beca is contentedly playing with Emma in the snow, making full use of Emma’s new—and very expensive—snow suit on the porch of Beca’s mother’s home.

“Chloe!” Beca yelps suddenly, making Chloe drop her mittens when she whirls around.

“What?” Chloe demands, eyes immediately searching Emma’s rosy cheeks and her face for any sign of injury. She is so concerned that for three seconds she doesn’t notice that Emma is making delighted cooing sounds and flailing her arms around. Then she notices that Emma’s face is smeared with snow that has already started to melt off her cheeks and nose.

“She just put her whole face into the snowman we were building,” Beca explains in awe. “Like just. Put her whole face. Into the snow.”

Chloe squeals when Emma grabs a handful of snow and crushes it in her gloved hands. “She’s so cute!” Chloe almost reaches out for her, but then holds herself back. “Wait, we should see what else she does,” she explains in a whisper to Beca.

“I hope she eats the snow,” Beca says helpfully.

— — — — —

chloebeale: it’s a lot less romantic when I tell you that we used the timer setting

All Beca can see is white. Sheets and sheets of snow, freshly fallen from the sky. She nurses the mug currently in her hands, allowing the heat to warm her chilled fingers—chilled from where they had been pressed against the window when she had gotten out of bed and dragged her hands along the cold windowpane with a child-like glee.

Being back in Seattle, being able to see all the wonders Washington has to offer again, Beca wonders why she finds herself staying away so often. She sits, swaddled among fluffy sheets while Chloe continues to snooze behind her.

The memory of the previous night sends a pleasant shiver down her spine without any help from the cold beyond the glass.

(Chloe’s lips, hard and bruising against her lips. Beca gasps for breath, but barely has a chance to do much else than whimper against Chloe’s mouth when Chloe’s hands pick her up, gripping tight under her thighs and carrying her to the bed.

Chloe’s lips, so soft and delicate as she kisses and licks between her legs, desperation and lust blending into one. Beca’s eyes fixated on the ceiling while Chloe gently licks and sucks at wet flesh—almost embarrassingly wet—while taking small pauses to whisper words of love into Beca’s thighs; to smile against warm, wet skin.

The ceiling is so white—bare, like the fresh snow outside. So much snow—more than Beca's used to, even for Seattle standards—but it is incredibly beautiful.

Beca gasps out a chorus of Chloe’s name before blinding white consumes her.)

A strong arm slides around her waist. “What an unnecessarily gigantic window,” Chloe mumbles. A hand comes up to tangle in Beca’s hair, gently sweeping the unruly strands away from her neck.

“Look at the view,” Beca teases.

Soft lips gently touch her neck. Beca shivers.

“I am,” Chloe finally says in a tone that clearly indicates that she is in fact not looking at the view. Her lips continue to tease the increasingly-warm skin at the base of Beca’s neck before trailing just under her jaw. “I’m enjoying the view.” Her hands join at Beca’s belly. “So much.” Chloe begins to rub teasing circles into Beca’s midsection, slowly drifting lower as she goes.

Beca loses herself to the sensation. She loves the feeling of Chloe’s hands on her body—the striking familiarity and sure, confident touch—as a reminder that she is still so, so desired and Chloe’s love for her knows no bounds. The feeling is entirely mutual. Beca somehow feels like an emotional mess and a teenager again, with how quickly her body is reacting to Chloe’s touch. “That feels nice, baby,” Beca rasps, reaching up with her free hand to lazily grip at Chloe’s hair.

“Mm…we should take a photo.”

Beca is distracted, primarily by the feeling of Chloe’s ministrations on her body. She is barely cognizant of the mug of tea in her hands and quickly places it on the closest coffee table.

Then, suddenly, Chloe’s warmth is leaving her. “Wait, where are you going? You weren’t serious were you?” Chloe giggles from behind her. Beca twists to follow the sound, highly alarmed. “We are nude!”

— — — — —

chloebeale: we got drunk then cried over missing our baby too much #momlife

Chloe trails the tips of her fingers up and around Beca’s neck and shoulders, enjoying the comforting weight of Beca leaning against her heavily. Full from dinner and exhausted from socializing with Beca’s family, they sit quietly in their room, watching Emma babble happily while crawling around their bed. They had gone out the previous night, just the two of them as a last impromptu date night while Beca’s mother looked after Emma. It ended up being just the two of them looking through photos on Chloe’s phone and deciding which ones to send to their friends.

The night had ended early and Chloe had been all too eager to cuddle with her wife and baby the moment they got home.

Now, sitting in their temporary room in Beca’s mother’s home, this feels like the first moment of quiet since landing in Seattle, just the three of them.

Chloe zones out momentarily, thinking about how much of her life had been so incredibly magical over the past decade. She thinks, silently pondering over every last moment, every last second, with Beca Mitchell in her life. Loving Beca and loving Emma are the easiest things Chloe has ever done and she is never giving that up.

“Hey,” Beca murmurs. Chloe can tell she’s tired, based on the sleepy way she tilts her head up to nuzzle into Chloe’s neck. “What are you thinking about over there?”

“Thinking about how much I love you,” Chloe whispers. Emma is lying still now, looking fairly tired, but her face is turned towards them and she blinks, as if she is fascinated by their conversation.

“Me?” Beca seems to perk up with the knowledge. “What about me has you so distant?” she questions, skimming her fingers along Chloe’s hip.

“I’m just so happy to be married to one of the best people in the world,” Chloe says honestly. She loves how flustered Beca gets whenever she talks about her love. “And how this person is also the mother of my child. And my best friend.” Chloe sighs. “I lucked out.”

“God,” Beca complains. “She sounds lame. Sounds like she’s the lucky one honestly.”

“Is that so?”

“Definitely.” Chloe can’t help the grin that overtakes her face when Beca gets out of bed to gently lift Emma and tuck her into the little cot they brought along. “What are you staring at, weirdo?” Beca asks when she turns around and catches Chloe’s full-blown grin and soft eyes.

“A hot mom,” Chloe responds instantly.

“Is that so?” Beca echoes, before climbing over Chloe’s lap and straddling her thighs.”Are you just going to stare, or…?”

Chloe runs her hands up Beca’s back, smoothing the wrinkles in the light sleep shirt she’s wearing. “I could,” she murmurs. She tilts her head up obligingly for a kiss. Beca sighs happily, immediately tilting her head to deepen the kiss briefly while her fingers reach up to scratch at the back of Chloe’s neck.

The kiss is familiar, as are most of their kisses. With time, Chloe has mastered the art of interpreting Beca’s kisses, knowing when her wife craves more than just affection. This is one of those moments where Beca simply craves closeness, but chooses to not express that in so many words. Chloe moves her hands to Beca’s hips, holding her steady while allowing Beca to guide their kiss at whatever pace she chooses. Again and again, their lips meet, eventually slowing into gentle, languid presses of lips against lips.

Beca smiles into the kiss, leaning back in Chloe’s lap.

“Better?” Chloe asks, voice a little hoarser than usual.

Beca nods, leaning in to brush her nose against Chloe’s, an unexpected giggle escaping her when Chloe immediately pulls her close for a tight hug and rolls them around on the bed until they’re lying in a messy, tangled heap amongst their pillows and sheets. “Thank you,” Beca murmurs when her breathlessness dissipates.

“For what?”

Beca hesitates. “For picking me. For this family.”

That response is so unexpected and so quick, but spoken with such reverence and tenderness that Chloe is instantly overwhelmed. Though Chloe never doubts Beca’s love for her and Beca’s love for their family, small, tender moments like these never fail to make every last emotion well up in Chloe and spill out of her in a fit of passion. She immediately can’t help herself and cups Beca’s cheek, pulling her in for one last, lingering kiss.

After a moment, Chloe pulls back, heart pounding at the sight of Beca’s eyes staring back at her intently. Just for a moment, however, because then, Beca’s eyes flutter closed.

Both of them finally exhausted, Chloe can’t help but gather all the strength she can from this holiday; from her wife; from their baby snoozing in her own cot—all to murmur one last sentiment before Beca drifts off completely.

”I’ll always pick you, Beca.”

— — — — —

chloebeale: never grow up..

When Beca wakes, Chloe is nowhere to be found. She inhales steadily for a few more moments, intently considering whether she ought to return to sleep, but the distinct lack of her wife snoring next to her as well as the distinct lack of any sounds from Emma’s cot ensure that her body automatically begins to fully awaken so she can search for her missing family.

Yawning, Beca quickly scrubs her face and brushes her teeth as the last vestiges of sleep fade away from her. Padding through her mother’s home, Beca feels both familiarity and distance. She has long considered L.A. to be her home, even more so now that she and Chloe have a relatively new addition to their lives, but Beca still feels every bit like a moody teenager creeping around creaky floorboards and tiptoeing down the stairs based on instinct.

Her mother is cooking already, pleasant smells and sounds coming from the kitchen. Beca can tell that breakfast will be a good spread and her stomach twists in reaction to both the memory of her mother’s food and literal smells she picks up.

For a moment, Beca forgets the past decade and a half of her life. It feels like a weekend; a surprisingly white Christmas in Seattle; another morning alone because Beca opted not to go to her father’s again and Beca’s mother is smiling at her from across the kitchen table. “It’s just us,” she says, eyes bright with both happiness and sadness as she gazes at Beca. “Never grow up,” she continues.

Beca hadn’t understood anything about that then. Just that she was tired and needed some food or she’d be grumpy for the rest of the day.

But now, still stuck in the memory, Beca freezes in the doorway. She wonders how time somehow slipped through her grasp so quickly. Her mother, all grey hairs and slumped shoulders, continues to cook, but everything has changed.

“Beca,” her mother greets happily. “Good morning. You're up early.”

And all at once, it is like sound crashes around them and Beca’s cousin is pushing past her into the kitchen, tiny bodies immediately following him with high, excited voices chiming in whenever they deem necessary.

“Can you go fetch Chloe? She stepped out with Emma for just a few minutes into the back.”

Beca nods, still a little dumbstruck. She finds Chloe immediately. Chloe, who looks everything like a snow princess: cozy white sweater and white jeans with cascading red hair flowing out from under a warm hat. In her arms, Chloe holds Emma in her arms. Emma, who is wrapped in a makeshift swaddle, is gazing up at Chloe with all her attention.

Chloe appears to be singing to her, which becomes clearer as Beca opens the sliding glass door and steps outside in a pair of stolen boots.

It’s an old Taylor Swift song, Beca thinks, but she can’t quite place the name. She’s sure Chloe will remind her of it soon enough. The melody is both beautiful and haunting, but Chloe’s voice is so light and airy that Beca can’t interpret it as anything but totally loving and happy.

By the time Chloe finishes, Beca has made her way over completely and stands close by Chloe’s side.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” Chloe greets.

“Was that to me or the baby?”

Chloe giggles. “Both. What’s got you up and about?”

“Just thinking,” Beca murmurs. She tucks her cold hands around Chloe’s waist and hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder.

“Not too hard, I hope,” Chloe replies, continuing to gently rock Emma back and forth. Emma coos, tilting her head to gaze at Beca contentedly before resting her head against Chloe’s chest. The fluffy hat brushes Beca’s nose, but she makes no move to shift away.

“Just...I never want her to grow up,” Beca admits. Her throat feels tight. “I just want it to be like this forever. Is that selfish?”

Chloe’s stance seems to soften even more. "No, absolutely not," she promises. Chloe adjusts her hold on Emma’s bundled body and uses her now-free arm to wrap around Beca’s shoulder to pull her into more of a side hug. “Is everything okay?”

Beca smiles, leaning in to kiss the corner of Chloe’s mouth. “Everything’s perfect.”

— — — — —

chloebeale: we feed her, I swear

“We need to socialize her more,” Beca says, holding Emma in her arms while her cousin carries his own daughter across the field. “I don’t think she’s ever seen another baby before.”

“She’s fine,” Chloe insists. She twists to greet Chris and his daughter Nicole. “Hi you,” she greets, kissing Nicole on her cheeks. “You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi Chloe, always nice to see you again,” Chris greets with a laugh. “Beca, still as short as ever I see.”

Beca scowls from behind Emma’s hat. “Shut up. Where’s your better half?”

“She’s inside with our other kids,” Chris says. “This one,” he says, lifting Nicole slightly. Nicole, who is staring at Emma with interest and curiosity. “Loves the snow.”

“Emma,” Chloe says, reaching to pull Emma into her arms. “Do you want to play?”

“My kid’s cuter than yours,” Beca says once Emma leaves her arms.

“Beca!” Chloe exclaims. “Behave.” She turns to face Nicole again and kisses her on the cheek once more, this time with Emma in her arms. “She didn’t mean that,” she whispers conspiratorially, evidently not noticing Emma’s suddenly wide eyes.

When they set both of them on the ground, both children looking adorable and extremely huggable, Emma immediately takes a few short toddler steps towards the other baby and immediately reaches out to—

“Emma!” Chloe yelps while Beca laughs hysterically. Emma is licking a line up Nicole’s face—poor Nicole is frozen, but not entirely displeased—in order to lick up bits of snow and ice.

“She didn’t learn that from me,” Beca calls from behind Chloe.

— — — — —

chloebeale: Beca told her that Santa wasn’t real

Chloe loves hearing Beca converse with Emma. Beca hasn’t quite mastered the art of baby talk and she believes—correctly, Chloe thinks—that babies ought to be spoken to like a regular person

Beca is pretending to use Emma’s stuffed bunny to talk to her, which is exceptionally amusing considering Beca is telling Emma about where snow comes from. Chloe is filming as discreetly as possible on her phone because she is constantly in awe at how incredibly awesome her family is at any given moment.

“Ice crystals,” Beca explains patiently. “It’s kind of cool. Each snowflake is different.” She adjusts the hat on their daughter’s head, grinning at the way the pompoms wobble with how large they are.

Emma stares, transfixed, at the stuffed animal in Beca’s hands, like it holds all the secrets to the universe. It was a gift from Beca’s uncle and Chloe has yet to see it leave Emma’s zone of perception. In fact, Chloe notes, Emma looks a little wary that Beca is manhandling the bunny at all. If babies somehow are able to master a look of distrust and suspicion, Chloe thinks Emma is verging pretty close.

“When you grow up, we’re going to have to explain Santa,” Beca continues. “That’ll be harder, but if you want to continue believing in him, you bet we’ll go along with you.” She smiles at Emma while Chloe tries not to laugh. Suddenly, Emma begins to cry and Beca’s smile drops right off her face. “Wait, no!” Beca turns to face Chloe in panic. “I didn’t mean that. Do you think she understood me?”

Beca’s genuine fear paired with their baby’s increasingly loud shrieking causes Chloe to finally put down her phone and stand so she can comfort her poor, distressed family. “Yes Beca,” Chloe says, taking the bunny from Beca’s hands and putting it back next to Emma. It’s cute how they’re pretty much the same size. Emma’s crying ceases nearly instantaneously. “I’m sure she understood every word.”

— — — — —

chloebeale: wifey <3

“Beca, swings are for children,” Chloe teases.

“And we have a child,” Beca points out. “C’mere,” she says to Emma, holding her arms out to take her from Chloe’s arms. Chloe laughs when Emma immediately moves to grab Beca’s hair. “She’s so obsessed with my hair.” She smiles slyly at Chloe. “Another thing she gets from you.”

Chloe blushes, pink from embarrassment and the cold. “Shut up.” She squeals suddenly. “Wait, you two are so cute!” She fumbles with her bag to pull out her phone. “My two puffy babies.” Emma is delighted by the strands of Beca’s hair tangled in her tiny fingers.

“Puffy?” Beca looks down at her Michelin Man-esque coat. “Oh, I see. Haha, very funny.”

Chloe leans in to steal a kiss. “Okay, now go get on the swings you big baby.” She pulls Emma back. “I’m giving you five minutes.”

“That’s all the time in the world as long as you’re here.”

#bechloe #fanfiction #pitch perfect #mine #asimplefavors #my fanfic

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