thinking of you drabbles | the way you make me feel #19

thinking of you drabbles | the way you make me feel #19

August 5, 2012, 2:54 am
Filed under: adds, au, drabbles, kacieverse, the way you make me feel | Tags: adds, au, chrihanna, chrihanna!friendship, drabbles, exclusive!chris, kacestopher, kacieverse, ot3: chris x kace x robyn, OT3: i never said things were perfect, OTP: if you and i were meant to be, smut, the way you make me feel, toy x drabble 19

a/n: drabbles are almost over ;( ! here’s a lengthy read.

set in april 08′ | drabble: destructive | word count: 3,600+

“You’ve read it though, right? She says relationships make her insecure when it’s not a serious thing,” Barry places the magazine with Robyn’s face on the cover over my eyes as I roll them and shake my head.

“She says she has something just physical going on and that’s about the only way things make sense.” Barry continues to read, and I exhale, sitting up and stopping.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I groan, partly because it’s hard to call this relationship purely physical when she helps calm me down with words and not just orgasms.

JD sucks his teeth, “You’re just a fuck buddy to her, obviously.”

I go up another set in weight and groan. “Maybe she’s just deflecting her feelings.”

Maybe. We did stuff, and her birthday and Jamaica was fucking amazing, but all the things that we did do, it just delayed the sex. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s really was all she stuck around for: the sex. We know that’s the backbone of this relationship, and I think that I should be worried about that.

I think I want something more out of her than just amazing sex and good chemistry, once we get underneath the layers of our mingling tempers, attitudes, and other priorities. I just don’t know if I’m fully ready to give up on everything else.

“She’s shady.” Helen grumbles from across the room, on the treadmill. I shake my head.

“Yeah she is, because when a female puts it like that, it’s kinda fucked up. Insecurities ain’t shit to be played with,” Maya murmured as I stared back at my phone and then holstered myself back down to the weights.

“Maybe ya’ll should just get serious…” She hints, and I suck my teeth again.

I know Robyn’s deal – placement. She wants to be the one and only, and by all means, she is. Or at least, she is until Kacie pops up and I have them both working in tandem to have a piece of me.

“Or she can stop lying. She doesn’t have a reason to be insecure.” I pushed the weights up and sat them back down in a series of reps as the thoughts rolled through my head.

I try to get through the rest of the set up without thinking too hard about it because honestly, there has to be more to this relationship.

Working out clears my head, but not for long. Jamaica was amazing, but when the pictures dropped of us being in the pool together, it spread everywhere, and Gypsy, my publicist, was totally set on embracing the Chrihanna love, as she liked to call it.

It just gives me a fucking headache, and in turn, keeps Kacie from ignoring my phone calls but sending me smart assed text messages or short emails, like this one:

Yo!

Barry wanted to know when my spring break was, it’s in like, march or some shit. I’m only telling you because I know it’s your bitch ass signing onto his facebook account, commenting on my pictures and posting on my wall, commenting on my wall-to-wall with Caleb.

So, before you ask, I’m going to VA for my spring break (alone!) because daddy’s heading out to motherfucking TEXAS and I can’t deal with another minute in Chicago. It’s going to be for like, a week. I just want to chill.

I would ask you to roll through but I don’t think you’d be able to even try to hold up all these thighs and hips in the Atlantic Ocean without getting too emotional about it, huh?

I’m knee deep in ice when my phone rings, and annoyingly so, Robyn’s grating into the off-handed comment that I’m 80% sure that Maya told her about. I press the device against the phone, muting a rerun of 106 on the screen, and sink deep into the ice, up to my shoulders.

“You’re insecure? Why are you insecure?” It’s not a hello, but I’m seriously curious.

“There’s others,” She spits out, like I’m supposed to own up to what I do when we’re not around. I shrug, even though she can’t see me, and clench my jaw. She continues.

“I can’t compete with that! Do you really think I could? I don’t want to step on any toes.” Both of my hands go up in surrender, but when her face looks back at me after the commercial break, the four dancers around me share a wide-eyed look.

“Just… come over tomorrow. We’ll talk about it, okay?”

When Robyn shows up at my apartment the next day, I drag her to my bed and she lets me. I attempt to go for slow, making my hands stroke her sides gently. She rolls her eyes and flips us over. We just don’t talk.

Straddling me, she grabs my hands and holds them to her hips.

“Hold on.”

I do as she says. A bit later, I’m just as close as she is, and she probably knows that. It’s probably why she clenches around my dick on purpose and bites at my bottom lip when I groan.

This is why being with her is so fucking addictive. The sex. The way she moves her hips. The way she touches me and I just come undone. It’s fucking ridiculous. I haven’t exactly tried to stop, but even thinking about it…I know that I just can’t. She feels so fucking good and she’s game for just about anything I suggests. I’m not ready to stop fucking her.

But it’s not really enough anymore.

….

Everything gets kicked off with a simple set of instructions: “Paris. Fashion week. You’re coming.”

So, we end up fighting. It’s endless, fuck and fight, fuck and fight…

And of course, Maya’s starting more shit than she’s actually handling, and it pisses me off.

If she hadn’t crept up on me and Kacie in Jamaica – I swear I think it’s why she’s so dead set on pushing me as close as I can get to Robyn, just because of how she and Kacie bumped heads – I wouldn’t even be arguing with her or trying to prove my point to her.

Maya just… pissed me the fuck off, really, and it popped off from there. She’s just, you know, very good at listening and making it look like she’s not. And at pressing her ear to thin walls.

That helps too.

But this is different.

I’m halfway through packing my bag to go home and Maya stares over her drink and murmurs something about college students and spring break and suddenly, all hell breaks loose.

“You’re going home to see your little crush?” She says quietly, like she’s spreading gossip.

I scoff at the comment, because it’s a little fucking ridiculous, because my attraction to her is not a crush. ‘Crush’ implies that it’s innocent, and it very much is not. We’re like, too close to actually fucking.

We’ve done everything but, so let’s not even attempt to say that.

So, I don’t.

“So nothing’s changed? Things just won’t be different, huh?” Robyn asks, and I merely close my eyes and brace myself for her emotions to turn into actions.

Nothing happens. She’s really curious, and I lowly curse from my position on the other side of the island. I don’t like to think about it because things aren’t different and it doesn’t do me a whole hell of a lot of good to think about ‘what if’.

I can’t just go back and throw away the little bit over a yearlong of a relationship (friendship?) whatever, that we’ve endured together.

“You just expect me to just… end it?” I ask, and she crosses the floor, and stands in front of me.

Maya sulks off to the living room when I give her the evil eye, but I know she’s still listening and not that damned interested in the Lakers game. It was getting fucking annoying that Maya just seemed to lurk around for Robyn’s appearances.

“Who do you want?” I ask, subtly hinting that she could go, but I don’t think that she will.

“You,” she answers thickly. It’s all she can say—all she can give me. I can hear the desperation in her voice and it makes my head spin. I know that admitting it is giving me everything she’s got.

“Who do you want?” I consider the question for so long it makes her nervous. Fuck.

She’d been sure, so sure that we—

“I want you, Robyn.” I finally say, the admission like something heavy pressing on my chest and yet somehow also a weight lifting as well.

I mean, it’s not like it’s a secret, but I couldn’t keep anything to myself.

There was something so enchanting about having a secret; a real secret, the kind that you don’t plan for, the kind that sneaks up on you and turns your entire life inside out and makes you breathlessly desperate to keep it all to yourself.

That’s how I feel about what’s going to go down in Virginia. This whole thing, spending the fucking week there, before jetting off to Paris kind of makes my stomach rumbles and coil up because I know how it’s going to end.

“You’re coming.” She instructs, ending the argument, thrusting a ticket in my hand, and I shake my head. She’s going to want it to be over when I do leave.

I’m not sure if it’s going to be that easy.

….

When I land, the second I start the familiar drive out, I feel self-destructive.

I’m only out here for five days, and I know the sooner I break this news to her, the better I’ll be. After so much time spent waiting desperately until I could see her again, it’s at this moment that I suddenly realize that I have absolutely no idea what to do now.

Not after the way we parted.

Kacie’s been texting me the entire time, mentioning about how she and Bailey are over and I even checked her Facebook page and whistled low at the three day old single relationship status that she failed to mention.

I want to ask why, but from what I’ve gathered from the texts, she actually started feeling like he never really cared about her at all. Once that thought was in her head, there was basically no turning back and fixing things.

When I wind up at her house, it feels good to be able to cross the fucking driveway and not be on alert that her dad is gonna run out and flip out on me for being here. I take a lot of deep breaths before knocking, and she yells that it’s open, which is really fucking bad, because god, I could have been anyone.

She’s drinking juice from a carton and suddenly sitting it down and making her way over to me, head shaking, and hands gripping my arms.

Just as I’m about to start having a panic attack over whether or not it would be OK to touch her, time starts moving at the normal speed again, my mind pulling itself away from all this wondering and worrying and thinking, and she’s in front of me, staring expectantly.

“Hi.” She waves. I go in for a hug. “Sup?”

“We gotta find something to do now that you’re actually here…” I’ve already drummed up a loose plan (it needs work) that I can, and I know she’s all for any type of structured activity, because sitting alone for too long will end up being disastrous.

It doesn’t take long for that plan to go into action, even though I got here at almost nine pm.

We end up going to a movie at the boardwalk that’s been out for a while and shouldn’t really be running. It’s late, like close to eleven when she unpacks a blanket and we get close to each other on the sand.

We hit up a small concession stand and we get tickets for a dollar and my head starts to spin as she pulls me down close to her, and makes me sit through the movie. I’m relaxed the second the reel starts.

She ends up in between my knees, and I sit one hand on the small of her back and the other on her thigh, fingers just below the hem of her dress and stroking over her skin.

Baby Mama turns out to be funny as hell, and she’s all hazy when we walk back down the beach towards her house again. My arms stay around her, making walking complicated and every so often, she’ll almost fall forward, but I catch her and press her protectively back to my chest.

I don’t tell her on the first night with her. I just can’t, especially with her just getting over Jamaica. So, on the second day, I get her roses and she grimaces at them while making us oversized pancakes.

There are chocolate chips in her hand, and she throws one at me, rolling her eyes when it hits my nose and falls on the counter.

“What’s this for?” She questions, cutting up fruit and putting it in the blender. I shrug.

“Just ‘cause.” I sit next to her, picking at orange pieces and banana slices.

I doubt it’ll pad the blow at all. I know that I just need to put it right out there, and while part of me wants to deny it and just go on living in blissful ignorance, another part of me just wants it all out in the open.

I can’t hold it in any longer.

“There’s something I have to tell you…” I start to pick at the seeds in the orange slice and she turns off the stove and sits the pan in the dishwasher.

“What?”

“I just want you to know that I’ll do whatever I need to do in order to get us to remain close.” Her expression is blank, and all I want to do is make it go away.

“It would be easier if I could believe you.” I get up from my position at the counter and hold on to her.

“Don’t doubt me, Kacie.”

Grunting in frustration, she tries to squirm free but I’m too strong, holding her in place as she gets more and more frantic. On the inside, I was struggling with what I knew was going to happen.

“Christopher, let me go.” She requests, and I shake my head no.

There is a part of me that resents her. The way she just lets me do this, mold her and use her as I please gets old, and I’m waiting on it to hit an endpoint, but she’s too stubborn to just give up.

She shouldn’t be allowed to reject me though. I’m the one who should get to decide these things, and she should just fall into the college student stereotype that she fits so well.

This is not the time for her to grow a goddamn conscience.

“Hell no, I need you to listen to me.” I manage to say, putting her weight against me and pressing her against the freezer.

Suddenly, she makes another attempt to push me off, but I press her against me more firmly and yells, “Jesus, woman, would you stop fucking squirming? I’m trying to tell you that I’m in  love with  you.”

“Yeah?” She stops moving and her lips barely move, and her mouth is only inches from mines.

“She put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“Tell me,” she says. It’s not even a taunt. “Come on. Don’t be a coward.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Fuck you,” She presses her hips to mine, chest to chest. “She wants you all to herself?”

Weakly, I nod.

She explodes.

“Fuck her too then! Are you going to be with her?”

“I’m not with her right now, am I?” My lips were pursed together, and her eyes narrowed in a cruel sort of expectation; I was intimidated, ashamed, and she knew it.

“But you’re going to go to her after this, aren’t you?” Because that’s what it came down to, of course; that’s what it always came down to.

“That doesn’t matter; I’m out here for you, babe. I just can’t… I can’t get this shit to work out! And I needed to see you Kacie, you know that.” I touch the side of her face, and she flairs her nostrils in annoyance.

“I felt empty without you. You’re a part of me in ways I can’t even explain, and I know that it’s the same for you. You’re always so patient with me and I…don’t want to fuck this up anymore if I know things are really about to change. I get it now.”

This definitely was a 360 from last summer. It was easy to pretend I no longer cared when I was being ignored; it was easy to act indifferent when no one was looking. Except now…now, everyone was looking and watching and judging me, all the time—and I still wasn’t convinced that I was a very good actor under pressure.

“You don’t get any fucking thing, you’re acting so fucking stupid and go for broke that I just…I don’t even know why I fucking want you so badly when you put me through all of this.”

Saliva pooled in my mouth, my throat felt tight, and my stomach muscles started to contract—violently, without remorse, and I was suddenly dizzy, angry, confused by the physicality of my reaction.

“You told me if shit got real to let you know and you’d back off!” I don’t wish pain and betrayal like this on anybody, but in the end, what goes around comes around. We reap what we sow.

“And you fucking believed me, huh?”

“I want you. I want to be with you, like how we were before, but not like that because you made it sound like it wasn’t enough and it probably wasn’t… but either way I want it and I know you want it.”

She moves towards me, makes me step backward until I hit the wall. “But it’s not the right time…”

Everything seems to crumble internally, and I cave. “Fuck that.”

I put my hands low on her sides after a long moment, one thumb tracing up her hipbone. She looks like she’s sizing me up, getting ready to do something—eyes sharp and dangerous, like she really doesn’t even give a shit about Robyn.

“You don’t mean that.” She utters, and I nod, gripping her hips against me.

Her lips came up and gently brushed me, but as I watched, her tongue came out and licked me. I slid my hands down her body to the apex of her legs. Her hands dug below her shirt to the skin of her hips and pulled her shirt over her head, and held it against her body.

“Stop covering up…”

“Not in the kitchen… I’m hella uncomfortable,” She took a deep breath. “The only way I could be more comfortable is if we were horizontal.”

I take the hint.

We end up on the couch, too impatient to get upstairs.

She pulled my shirts off easily, and licked curves around my nipples as she went. Her spine was hot against my thumbs; I gripped her ass in my palms and pulled her, roughly, closer. She opened her teeth against my neck, and thrust her hips towards me.

“I need…” My teeth clack together as she bends back, and my hand grips her thigh. Her eyes close as she pushes the package into my hand, and starts to rock against my stomach.

I flip her over, and she goes right for me, clinging almost.

“I don’t wanna fuck this up,” She mutters, tearing her lips away from mine to suck softly at the stubbled edge of my chin. “I just can’t keep waiting.”

With a rough, wet hum, I push my lips across her face, scraping my teeth over the edges of her jaw and to the place on her neck that I remember made her groan the last time she let me touch her like this.

After a bit of successful roaming around, with one hand I lifted her hips and with the other I placed myself at her entrance. It makes me sick with nervousness and lit with excitement, all at once.

When she closes her eyes and I sink into her, I’m done. We claw at each other out of pure concentrated need to get closer, losing it because we both know that everything is different, and nothing has changed.

My hands are everywhere, but I don’t want to move. I’m afraid to. I feel as if she’ll think this is all wrong and we’ll have to stop and–

She wraps her arms around my back and digs her fingernails into my back like she’s done so many times before, but now I’m inside of her, and Jesus…

I bite down on her lip to stop her whimpering and dig my fingernails into the curve of her hip, pushing myself deeper into her. I feel myself getting close at the same time she bites down on my shoulder and I know her, I know her so fucking well that I twist the right way and she cums, jerking hard as she does so.

I can’t breathe. She can’t even look at me, but I can’t move.

“We’ll be better. I love you. I can’t just stop. It’ll work out, I promise,” I promise as I bury my face into her hair, “I’ll do anything for you.”

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