Filed under: adds, completed, kacieverse, thinking of you | Tags: adds, chrihanna, chrihanna!friendship, completed, kacieverse, ot3: chris x kace x robyn, OT3: i never said things were perfect, OTP: i'll wait for you, OTP: the lady in my life, summertime!chris, thinking of you, toy x 28, VIRGINIA
a/n: i think the drabbles are gonna come back after this, i’m impatient lol. thanks for all the comments and views you guys! <333
Yes, of course
I remember, how could I forget?
How you feel?
And though you were my first time
A new feel
It won’t ever get old, not in my soul
Not in my spirit, keep it alive
We’ll go down this road
‘Til it turns from color to black and white
Isolating myself from everyone in an attempt to ignore the bigger picture that the media is trying to force me into explaining isn’t hard to do anymore.
It’s almost too easy, to a fault. Initially, my attempts to go back home to run from whatever news or drama I didn’t want to hear was something like an all-out affair. Friends and family surrounded me and did whatever they needed to in order to keep me grounded and down to earth, reminding me of where’d I started out and where I’d always have people who could keep me calm and sane when being a celebrity was too much.
This situation is different though.
For a while, on many occasions, my low points were filled with these situations in which all I needed by my side was Kacie. One time, I’d even gotten her to spend the entire month with me. I think that’s when I realized I loved her, and it was the scariest feeling in the world. Robyn hated that shit, but I was trying to escape pressure of the extremely popular relationship we were in, and how high profile it had become.
I couldn’t move without and it being broadcasted everywhere, and I hated it. I just wanted to be with her, but even that had shaped up to be something that had gotten lost in translation, pitting her as the power wielding force in the relationship, and me as the one who benefitted the most from her celebrity status, which was bigger than mines.
When I got fed up enough, running home to take my mind off of how hectic things had become was easy to do. Getting Kacie to spend such a large amount of time with me was easier than I imagined, but by that time, we’d already started having a sexual relationship and honestly, in retrospect I can see how it made things more complicated for the three of us.
The moment I got too used to her, especially when we stopped denying the fact that we wanted every part of each other, I knew I had created this fork in the road path in terms of how my future would go. I knew a choice needed to be made, and either I could continue down Robyn’s path and cement this young prince and princess of R&B celebrity couple position, or travel down Kacie’s path and hold on to the idea of practicality and whatever shreds of normality I could.
I don’t know how I made it work to this day. On occasion I ended up down roads I wasn’t supposed to, but in the end I found my way back to what was comfortable. Despite everything though, I’m happy with where I am now. I’m very happy, after all of the shit I’ve put her through to get to what I wanted out of her and whatever could become of us as a whole.
It doesn’t take long for this tale of a snapped ex, several brushes with death, and the realization that one’s happiness can trigger someone to do fucked up things when motivated by jealousy can happen to anyone to get around. It’s being covered and formed by basically every outlet there is, and I’m satisfied with how Morgan spun the story and kept the hype up as far as what I’d do in order to keep Kacie.
I don’t how know she does it, but I know a major adjustment in my team will happen soon. Morgan can never be replaced now, especially not when she’s capable of doing all of this for not only me, but us. Maya would have never been able to strategically keep this working in my favor. Morgan is working wonders for me in terms of my impending reinvention as a more mature man, which is going to be hard to convince the media that I’m capable of presenting myself as such, but I have to.
She’s fucking amazing, and I don’t call to hesitate to let her know it. She’s defused rumor after rumor, and while placing the engagement into the mix as a slowly dawned upon realization with all of the imagery before to support it, she also sets the stage towards the acceptance of our engagement status.
It used to be easy to run away from my problems. Sometimes, like a horror movie, the ghosts come back to haunt me. In this instance, it was more like a chase. There were too many things I couldn’t ignore or repress, but I knew this engagement symbolized more than just dedication, expectations, and being certain that I wanted more out of life. It ultimately symbolized my understanding that it takes true love to triumph over all of it to get through things.
I look away from my phone and glance up, trying to see where Kacie disappeared to. A loud laugh from a few feet in front of me makes my epiphany come to an end and my brown eyes adjust in the afternoon sun, finding the outfit of short shorts, shredded UCP tour tee, and shimmery skin of that fiancée of mines standing in the water as it rushes around her legs and laps at her calves.
I like the beach. A lot of important moments in my life have happened on them. Hits and misses, inspiring conversations and heated arguments, developments and dead ends have all seen their starts and finishes on some stretch of beach in the last seven or so years.
This one is no exception, because it kicks off another important moment. We’ve been back from the doctor’s office where Doctor Edwards, the doctor recommended to us by Doctor Nachamie, was surprised to see Kacie and got her situated very quickly. Instead of coming back home to get directly into forming a plan though, this is where we end up, and I can only put it off for so long.
I’m more excited about this than she is, or at least it’s what it feels like. I’m impatient, that’s what it is, but there’s so much to plan for, and I want to be a part of everything that I can. There are doctors for when we’re in different states, figuring out where we need to settle that’ll be the best for us, and as much as we have to wait, I’m more excited about spoiling him or her already.
I’m all emotion, very easily set off, while she’s more relaxed and calm, which has been something like her norm lately, when she’s not being uber passionate about something or the other. I’m ready to kick start fatherhood, and she’s not even showing yet. I just want to know what’s in the packet, but I’m not gonna open it up without her.
I stand up, pushing myself off of one of the giant rocks that lines the backyard to get closer to her. I watch her sigh softly and wiggle her toes in the velvety underwater sand, seeming really content, so I don’t instantly interrupt her.
The tide buries her feet, and then digs them up again. It starts to roll in again, almost knocking her on her ass, and suddenly she’s on her knees and the water is damn near to her neck. I wrap my arms around her as carefully as I can as she squeals loudly and I pull her up, rescuing her.
“You were gonna let me drown!” She exclaims dramatically and I laugh. Between the two of us, she’s the better swimmer, but I’m taller than her and can stand up in deeper water without going under, so we make a good team.
“I can go drop you back in if you wanna start shit,” I tease her, feeling her wrap her legs around me as I tilt her back and get her shirt completely wet until it’s sticking against her skin like a tattered cloth.
“You think I’ma let you drown?” I tease her again, watching the water lap against her sides and the back of her head.
“No! No, okay! Okayyyyy. Put me down!” She shrieks and I pretend to lower her totally into the tide as it comes back, and she screams and works her way out of my grasp, pulling me down into the sand and water with her until it covers my shoulder and leg.
“Oh my fucking god, Christopher!” Kacie groans, standing up and running down the beach a little until I’ve caught up with her and wrap my arms around her again, stopping her.
The sand is exfoliating my shoulder when I rub up against her and kiss the side of her face and run my hands down her stomach. “You still think I’ma let something happen to you?”
A pout follows, and I can see her nipples through her shirt, which makes me run my hands across her skin until she shakes her head at me.
“Aiight then. C’mon before you start complaining. We can come out here and swim later.” I grip her hips, pulling her out of the water and back towards the wooden canopy I remember her Dad building almost four years ago.
Not needing to censor myself, I catch her looking as I strip out of my shorts and lie back on the previous rock I’d gotten off of. I wouldn’t have the audacity to do any of this on a city beach, but this strip of beach between here, the backyard beaches, are typically deserted.
I can already feel the dampness around me starting to dry. She bends over me, kisses the arch of my back and I feel her weight settle against my back, and soon, her fingers, soft and warm, start to trace circles in my skin. Her shirt hits the sand, and I watch my face crumple into the sand and feel the cool, wet nylon of her bikini top against my back.
“Are you ever gonna open the packet?” I question, glancing at the Babies for Beginners packet, in bright pastels on top of the towel she has stretched out on sand below.
I see her shadow shrug, and I sigh, turning my head to the side and eyeballing it. When my hand reaches out, she doesn’t stop me.
I’m nervous, but I manage to open it, ignoring the coupons and offers and trimester calendar, and pull out the patient encounter form. She maneuvers herself off of my back and gives me my glasses after she blows the sand off of them, and I put them on, hand shaking slightly as I pull the paperwork back to eye level.
There’s a piece of paper sitting in my hand that confirms several things for me.
I got her pregnant one of those times in Vegas. She’ll have our child somewhere too close to Robyn’s birthday, and she’s in her fifth week since conception. I want a son, but she’s checked a box that’ll keep the gender a surprise. We’re going to have to talk about that. There are some notes about multiples – I recall that her dad is a twin and there are a couple of more sets of twins on her dad’s side, but I can’t deal with two kids, so I push the thought to the back of my mind.
Everything looks to be fine, despite the trauma she’s endured and her once dead set fears of infertility, which is definitely not a factor considering she’s pregnant. I’m happy though, and I can tell she is too when I feel a warm teardrop hit my neck and feel her fingers rush to brush it away. Her hands are smooth like my mom hands and I wonder what has to be done in order for her to shift into mommy mode.
“I wanna call her when we go inside.” She murmurs as I feel her shift and climb off of me. Her fingers graze where a few cuts in the swimsuit press against her stitches and I grab her hand, smoothing circles across the small of her back.
There’s cooler with melting ice in it and she flips it open, sliding a piece back and forth between her collarbone and the nape of her neck. I narrow my gaze at her and eye a box of Choco Tacos that we grabbed out of the freezer and a few pieces of fruit in between us on a slab of rock.
“Call who?” I question as she pulls back and her arched eyebrow rises as she knots her hair on the top of her head.
“Robyn. I wanna tell her. I don’t want you to do it.” She glances, and I can tell she’s expecting some sort of minimal confrontation in my response. As a distraction, I eat a piece of pineapple and nod.
I watch her scrub her hands on a towel and open one of the tacos, dropping the peanuts into the paper as she examines it, and breaks it in half, giving me an equal piece of it. I lick my lips as she literally moans and presses her body into the sand after biting into it.
“C’mon. Let’s go inside.” She grabs the towel and packet as I grab the cooler and walk back up the pathway behind her until we get inside of the house again.
I start to strip at the doorway and I watch her lean against the sliding door, kicking off her wet shorts and scrubbing the sand from her feet on the giant mat underneath our feet. I do the same and start to shiver as the air kicks back on.
“C’mon, you smell like the beach.” She teases me, grabbing my hand.
I shake my head no and maneuver her up into my arms, picking her up bridal style –she laughs and claims I need to practice this more often– and carry her to the bathroom.
I get a sense of déjà vu when I sit her on the side of the giant tub and start to peel her swimsuit off of her shoulder blades, kissing the dip in her back and nudging my nose against her shoulder.
“Why you getting me started and I’m sleepy?” She murmurs, yawning as I turn on the water and narrow my gaze at her.
“You’re not sleepy.” I press my lips against hers, sliding her engagement ring off of her hand and sitting it on the shelf above the vanity.
“I want you to let me have you… then we can go nap, whatever. We don’t have to rush to do anything, and we can tell Robyn later…” I rub her hips after I slide her bottoms down, and cup her ass in my hands.
It doesn’t take much to get her to agree. I nuzzle her shoulder and part my mouth when she runs her hand down the boxers that stick to my skin, and starts to lazily draw circles against my leg.
“You’re gonna be sleeping like a baby when I’m done.” I swipe my bottom lip with my tongue and laugh lowly, pushing them down for her as she presses herself against me, and she shivers at the skin to skin contact as I line myself up and push into her.
I kiss her hard, wrap my arms around her waist, and allowed my tongue to tangle with hers. I feel fucking ridiculous as we rock back and forth and my subconscious reminds me to turn off the water before it starts to slosh over the side of the tub.
Her arms wrap around me as her legs open and squeeze me between them, and I groan as she lifts her right leg and my hand digs into the flesh of her thigh and I can feel my balls slapping against her.
She’s hugging my neck tighter, her breathing is getting quicker, and I feel the savage pants in the crook of my neck while I pick her up and undulate my hips against her. I felt her cum almost instantly, and I’m almost there, bent over her, hands shaking, fingers tangled in her locks.
It happens again, a squeeze making it simultaneous for the two of us. It seemed like seconds had passed, and she shuttered so violently that tears spilled over her closed lashes and I instantly pulled out with a hiss, feeling her heartbeat against my chest as she gasped and draped her head against my shoulder.
“Fuck,” I kiss her forehead, breathing heavily. “Yeah, if the sex is gon’ be like this, you’re gonna be pregnant a lot, so…”
She makes some unintelligible sound in response as she sinks into the water and it laps up around us, and I settle behind her.
“You are not about to have me barefoot and pregnant, how many times do I have to tell your ass that?” Kacie groans as I suck my teeth and give into the sensation of her back pressing against my chest.
“Wash my hair for me.” She softly requests and I end up with coconut smelling shampoo foam up to my elbows as I play in her hair more than anything.
When I’m done and she’s whipping her hair around in a towel and staring at me, I feel more than obligated to carry her to her room, ignoring the fact that this is my third time ever been in here.
I glance around at her room that hasn’t changed since the last time I’ve been here. There’s still a large bed on the floor, surprisingly unmade and messy like the room hasn’t been touched since she’s been back here. It probably hasn’t. I remember her bed was lofted up high once, but there was this incident in which she woke up hanging off of the edge of it and dislocated her shoulder.
She used to gross everyone out by popping it out of the socket, but she can’t anymore.
There’s a desk piled up with stuff: a variety of magazines, textbooks, art supplies, and a very old and still functioning purple iMac G3 in the corner. I got jealous the one time it crashed and she refurbished it by herself and recovered her hard drive, claiming someone taught her how to do it. She still refuses to this day to acknowledge anything of Bailey when we’re in Virginia together.
I see my face a few times: in pictures on the wall, in the mirror panel against the wall, scattered over her desk in the form of CDs and party flyers, and my personal favorite is on a poster with my own handwriting covering most of it – I get closer and mentally recite the lyrics to i wanna be over one of the Exclusive Tour Promo posters – and smile.
I pause as I see a picture of me and her stuck on a corkboard, surrounded by thumbtacks and bits of sticker covering three other faces in the picture, but I can’t really recall who they are right now, or even if they matter. A picture is worth a thousand words.
It doesn’t show all the hugs and kisses, the smiles and the laughter. To anyone else it would just be a simple picture but to me there is a leftover essence of a memory, one I can almost reach out and touch. Once I start to think about that moment in time, imagine that picture, I get lost in the memories. The past was so fucking rocky. I’m glad we’ve finally gotten situated to something calm.
There are clothes, old and new, everywhere when I walk up the small platform that holds her wardrobe. Shoe boxes are lined up in the middle of two racks, in various labels and according to size. I pull out one box – my name is stamped all over it – and smile when everything I’ve dumped in it is still here.
I sit on the floor, staring at the contents as she thumbs through the folded clothes and pulls on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt over her underwear and bra. She tosses a pair of shorts at me and I pull them on, watching her sit next to me on the step, clucking her tongue at the box.
“Yeah, I kept it…” She teases, eyes staying close for a moment as I wrap my arm around her and rest it on her stomach. This means more to me than her verbal declaration of love.
This box is like a fucking relic in our relationship. Everything is still in there from the last time we’d been together and the first time we’d had sex. Just like, a moment frozen, all in this box. That entire week that had changed everything was right here, in this box. And she’d kept it.
Slowly, I lay out everything next to us. Five extremely withered pressed roses, four cut out UCP tour reviews that she’d written herself, and three expired magnum condoms, two torn ticket stubs from Baby Mama – I laugh at that and she does too – and a folded up plane ticket.
She never did come to Paris. I don’t blame her.
“I stopped trying ‘cause I knew we couldn’t compare.” She admits before I can even ask her why she never made it out.
“It’s alright though. It doesn’t matter. We always come back to each other at the end,” She pulled her shirt up and stuck her stomach out, trying to inflate it, but to no avail.
“Ain’t that right baby Kacestopher?” She ran her fingertips down her stomach as I sighed softly and pulled her back into me, softly pressing my lips against hers.
“Realistically, baby Kacestopher is the size of a sunflower seed, woman.” I comment and she blushes.
“We got a long way to go.” She softly sighs and instantly felt empty when she got up and walked over to the desk, turning on the Mac and turning on the small camera on top of it.
“C’mon, she’s online.” Kacie pulled me towards the screen as she positioned the camera on us and initiated the call.
I licked my lips and waved once she answered and Kacie smiled, pushing back from the desk and pulling me down into the chair she’d dragged across the room.
“Hey! We got something to tell you. Are you alone?”
“So, I’m pregnant. Like, doctor’s confirmed pregnant.” I can tell the glee in Kacie’s voice won’t return when we watch Robyn draw her legs up to her chin and exhale.
“Fuck, really?” Robyn murmurs, and I notice how sick and tired she looks, and it makes me shake my head.
“You don’t seem as excited as you did when we were emailing about it. What’s wrong, you okay?” Kacie questions softly as Robyn shakes her head no, and my brow furrows.
What the fuck? I watch her chin quiver. I watch the tears threatening to spill over. I watch her deliberately avert her eyes.
I know her. I know this tactic, and it’s usually done in private, and Robyn definitely has a mini crew behind her, Jen, Melissa, Noella… fuck. They all know, but it’s not like I really care, I just want them to be there for her because it’s bothering me that I know, I can feel the breakdown to follow coming.
This is way more sensitive than being engaged to someone else. Everyone around her just seems to hover while witnessing her falling apart. I wouldn’t want to know either. A single tear slides down her cheek. I watch a shaking hand wipe it away. Then she gets up, and instantly, I know Kacie feels way worse now.
“Robyn, you know you’re better off without him,” Melissa says, and I assume she’s consoling her off screen. I hear a thump, and then the sound of a bottle and some glasses clattering.
“You know, that’s real interesting that you’re pregnant.” Robyn returns, glancing at the two of us directly, and I can’t help but shiver. I don’t like where this is going.
“’Cause I’ve spent the last two days recovering from what I’ve just found out was a miscarriage. So, yeah. That’s that.”
“What in the hell are you telling me that for?” I narrow my gaze, not wanting to sound like an asshole, or piss anyone off.
“Wait,” I run my hands down my face, and cluck my tongue.
“You were pregnant?”
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