summary: you just wanted a special night for your girlfriend, the same girlfriend who always found herself jumping to conclusions.
author’s note: i know i said tonight, BUT i did not specify when, lol. it's still dark outside! but yall enjoy, i know this is a bit short but writing longer fics is so hard for me. muah <3
That was the text that had Riri in a mood for the past two hours. Passive aggressive comments and heavy stomping around your apartment was her current form of communication.
“Ri can you just get dressed, we’re gonna be late!” The two of you had been into it all afternoon. Most of it consisting of you begging her to get dressed and her outright ignoring and questioning you about the text you had received hours prior.
You stood in front of the mirror finishing off your makeup. You were practically ready while Riri still stood in the doorway of the bathroom questioning you.
“Nah cause fuck she texting you for? It’s damn near 11 at night!”
Most times you loved Riri's possessiveness, but other times it drove you crazy. Pulling you closer when others stare at you, constant PDA, and stolen kisses were all the things that you ejoyed. But the other times? Boy did you hate them.
You ignored her question and continued getting ready yourself. “You got 30 minutes Ri, forreal.”
“Nah cause you just brushing me off. What the fuck do you and Shuri got going?”
You had never seen her this upset. She wasn’t even this mad when you put a scratch on her suit.
“Rianna if you don’t get dressed imma know something.”
She kissed her teeth and walked over to the closet, staring blankly at all the hoodies and sweats she owned. She was like a cartoon character and that was her default fit.
“And don’t put on a damn hoodie!” You shouted from the bathroom.
The car ride was long and awkward. The low sound of Syd's 'Nothin to Somethin' played while raindrops gently landed on the windshield and windows. You glanced over at Riri, her body language spoke for itself, arms crossed tightly across her chest, body turned away from you, and her jaw was clenched so damn tight you were sure she had cracked a couple of molars.
Your hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as you came to a red light. You sighed deeply, just wanting for this car ride to be over. You hummed along to the song, hoping it would calm your nerves and make the ride a bit more bearable.
The music was interrupted by Siri reading a new text out loud.
from shuri: need you now! where are you!?
Riri smacked her lips, the ambiguous text setting her off even more.
"What typa' shit is that man?" she raised her voice, motioning towards your phone. "She needs you? Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
Shuri had the worst timing known to man.
You quickly shot a text back and placed your phone in between your thighs. For as long as you two had been together, checking phones were never a thing in your relationship. You trusted each other ,but all that had flown out the window.
"Gimmie your phone." Riri plainly stated.
"No."
"No?! You really playing in my fucking face."
"Can you calm down? You not getting my phone."
She smacked her lips and side eyed you,“She can have you fr. Shoulda known you was easy after the other night.”
The night she was referring to was two weeks ago. The night that was filled with blurry memories, alcohol, and loud music. The night that was filled with lust, smell of sweat, and drunken confessions. The night that had you sore and waking up between Riri and Shuri's naked bodies. It was enjoyable, but the three of you agreed that it was a one time thing, something that could- would never happen again.
"Rianna-"
"Nah, the way you was acting that night?" She paused and looked you up and down before chuckling and shaking her head, "You must've been waiting to do some shit like that."
You had finally made it to your destination. Immediatley putting the car in park and snatching the keys out of the ignition. You turn to face Riri, noses just centimeters apart. The cologne that she wore filling your nose.
"You not about to sit up here and try to shame me for some shit that we both did."
Her eyes flashed with regret for a moment, knowing that she hit below the belt. You didn't sit around long enough to hear her half-assed apology that you knew she was going to give. Slamming the car door behind you and smoothing out your skirt, you turned to Riri before making your way to the front door.
"Don't do this shit tonight Ri. Even if you not in the mood, atleast pretend to enjoy it."
The door opened to all of your friends and family, Shuri inlcuded, holding streamers and balloons in their hands.
"Suprise short stack! You didn't think we forgot your birthday didn't you?" Shuri pulled Riri into a bear hug, placing a party hat atop her head.
"You know you ain't have to do all this for me."
Shuri shook her head, "Nah your girl did all this. Took weeks to plan." She laughed and threw her head back, "She felt so bad, you know she hates keeping things from you."
Riri smiled weakly at the statement. The harsh words she spat at you minutes prior eating away at her by the second. She turned to look for you, but you were long gone.
You sat at a table in the back, watching everyone enjoy the party that you meticulously planned for weeks. The lights, decorations, even the open bar was hell trying to get on your own. It was only right to call shuri for help. You downed the rest of your drink, stinging your throat as you swallowed it. This was supposed to be a fun night to celebrate your girlfriend, but the words she said couldn’t do anything but echo in your head right now. Watching it all was too much for you, staying in here wasn’t an option.
Meanwhile, Riri tried her hardest to find you, but kept getting caught up in 'happy birthdays' and mini conversations that she wished would end. She finally got away before approaching Nakia, who was clearly a few drinks past okay.
“You seen my baby?”
Nakia smiled sheepishly before replying, her words slightly slurred. “Last I saw her she was outside, said she needed some air.”
Riri awkwardly passed through the rest of the guests, giving fake smiles as she tried her hardest to get to the door. After what felt like thirty minutes, she had finally made it outside. The air was humid and the rain had only stopped a bit, still sprinkling a little.
You sat on the steps on the porch, hands still grasping the empty glass from earlier. The creaking of the wooden boards caught your attention. There stood Riri in the doorway, hands tucked in her pockets.
“Baby-“
“Please save it rianna.”
The music from inside muffled as she shut the front door all the way, ‘Spit it out’ by Kaytranada booming through the speakers.
The silence lingered between the two of you before you spoke up, “Is that what you really think of me?”
Riri pursed her lips, eyes locking with yours. She knew how she felt, but she never knew how to say it. Resentment threatening to bubble over as the days passed. You took her lack of an answer as her true feelings.
“Happy birthday Riri.” You replied, barely a whisper.
Your eyes rolled as you inhaled, willing the smoke to fill your mouth, then your lungs. Riri stood by, watching your fluid movements like she was drawn to them. You puckered your lips and blew your residual smoke right into her face. She didn’t flinch. Just smiled. That stupid, sweet little smirk that sent shivers down your spine.
Warnings: smutty lil fic, so 18+, dom!Riri, sub!reader, pantysniffing!Riri(she just likes your pheromones), striptease!reader, fingering(reader receiving), oral(reader receiving, she just wanna spoil you this time around)overstimulation, no doesn't mean no, slight mention of Riri impregnanting you, Explicit language, N-word usage, angst (mom and daughter relationships are tough), brief mentions of a sick family member, established secret relationship, ends in heartbreak (I'm sorryyyy), probably some that I forgot
Word Count: 6.7k+
Tags: @percsane @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot @6-noir @kya-rose @saintwrld @someshuriposts @jessiap @ilikegecos @iiluvl4n @katymae12344 @shurismainbxtch @crookedsaladlover @motheroffae @saintwrld @marsolgy @ogbells16 @verachii @shuriszn @playgurlxoxoo @ashleighshaw @te-23 @dominquesheart @shuridefenselawyer @iminlovewithdomandtish @limbozqueen @cansah2002-blog
Enjoy <3
“You sold your soul-” Riri’s voice echoed across your mother’s front stoop, cutting through the warm evening air.
The sun had run its course, dragging through the sky until it was sitting low, casting a muted orange hue across the south Chicago street. Street lamps were flickering on for the night, and kids raced to make it over the threshold of their mama’s houses before the moon claimed the sky.
“Here you go with the dramatics, Ri,” your older sister, Niq, responded with a shake of her head, her shoulder-length locs jerking subtly with the movement.
She was going to have to cut those locs tonight, and the realization felt like a punch to the gut. You remembered how excited she was to start them finally; she’d been begging you to twist her hair for weeks.
“C’mon, y/n, you got somethin’ better to do than your big sister’s hair? I practically raised you-” she’d followed you around the house like a lost puppy.
“You ain’ raise shit, Niq. We’re 15 months apart,” you’d dismissed her, cringing as you heard your mom's sharp “Language!” echo across the house.
“My bad, ma!”
“Please, doll?” she rattled off your childhood nickname. It was what she’d called you until she was five, having thought you were a baby doll that your mother had brought home for her.
“I got a pile of homework, Niq-” It wasn’t an excuse. Niq might’ve graduated last May, but you had a whole year to go until your high school career ended, and you were trying to graduate with ‘valedictorian’ in front of your name. You were already on the right path. Known as a straight A student and a teacher’s pet, captain of the debate team, and ol’ girl who got a perfect score on her SAT. You heard the way they spoke about you in the halls, thinking you weren’t listening. “That’s Niq’s sister? Niq Davis?” the teachers would whisper when you walked past. “You sure they got the same DNA?” the nosy adults wondered aloud.
The other students who knew of Niq Davis avoided you altogether, and you were much too smart not to notice why. She threatened anyone who so much as breathed at you wrong, leaning way too hard into the ‘older sister’ bit. There wasn’t enough of an age difference between the two of you for it to matter who was older.
Still, she knew that with enough persistence, you weren’t going to tell her no. Ever the people pleaser, you’d started her locs that same night, pushing aside the assignments you knew needed to be completed.
Your mind drifted back to a time before any of this. Before the distance. Before the choices. You remembered the days when it was just you, Niq, and the smell of cocoa butter in the air while you twisted her locs, smoothing them with tender fingers, lost in the rhythm of your shared space. The hours felt like minutes, the moments like treasures.
Niq and Riri didn’t acknowledge your presence, seated in one of your grandmother’s rocking chairs on the porch, face illuminated, but hidden behind your large laptop screen, tabs open and forgotten. You didn’t bother to make yourself known, blending into the background without a care. They knew you were there, allowing you to take up space in their bubble. Ri’s eyes flickered over to you every so often, catching your gaze when you happened to be looking up.
Riri had been around since Niq was in the 8th grade, with you in the 7th. She and her mother had just moved to the neighborhood, but really, it was like she surfaced out of nowhere. One day she wasn’t there, the next day, she was. You don’t remember their first meeting, just that Riri’s been around ever since.
Niq hardly ever came home without Riri in tow. She was present for Sunday dinners and holidays. Hell, you’d lost count of how many times you’d passed her in the hall first thing in the morning as if she’d never gone home the night before.
Last night she hadn’t, laid up on the couch with a thick blanket and the plate your mama had handed her, balancing on her lap. She was there when you descended the stairs this morning, giving you a passing grin, accompanied by the tick of her brow when her eyes traveled over your figure, taking in the length of your bare legs beneath a shirt three sizes too big. Her sleep-laced voice muttered out a “Hey, doll,” to which you responded with only a nod.
You hated that nickname, wishing that your mom or grandma had pushed your sister to learn your name instead of cooing over her struggling to say ‘doll’ with no front teeth.
Riri sat across from your sister, tightly rolling a blunt between her nimble fingers, lifting it to lick the wrapper before sealing it in place. Her hand lazed to the side, offering the piece to Niq, who shook her head, rejecting it idly. “I can’t, Riri.”
“Tell me why you doing this shit again,” Ri’s voice was calm, tucking the blunt into the corner of her lip, turning to blow smoke in the opposite direction.
“I don told you bout thirty times-”
“Tell me again,” she interrupted. She wasn’t really asking; she was pushing.
Niq leaned back on her hands, stretching her legs out until they reached the step below her. You took the moment to study your sister, taking mental images of her face as if you could forget it when she was gone. It was the same face that you bore, the two of you often being mistaken for twins, all because your mom’s genes were strong as hell.
Niq got your dad’s lighter brown eyes that you’d only ever seen through photographs, while you got your mom’s almost black ones. Other than eye color, the similarities were identical. Same wide nose, same plump lips. You and Niq used to joke that you were supposed to be born as twins, but you ‘needed an extra year to finish baking.’ As you got older, the joke started to make less sense. Niq continued to grow past your shorter frame, straightening out all of her curves and sharpening her features.
“I gotta get outta Chicago, Ri,” your sister responded. “This ain’ my end-all, be-all.”
“Who said it gotta be?”
Niq’s head fell back like it was too heavy for her slender shoulders, a humorless laugh escaping between her lips. “If I don’t get out now, imma be stuck. We both know that.”
“Nigga, why you talk like you ain’ never gonna come back?” Riri asked, accidentally blowing smoke in Niq’s direction.
She fanned it away, annoyed. “Man, watch that shit. I gotta report in the morning, I can’t go in smelling like weed.”
“My bad, my bad,” Riri said solemnly, assisting Niq in dispersing the smoke through the air.
“Imma come back, Ri. My baby sister here, and my momma.”
“Baby my ass,” you grumbled lowly. Riri let a small grin spread across her face like she heard you.
“Why the military, though, Niq? You used to be the life of the party, man. Won’t nobody coming out if you wasn’t there, and now you risking your life? For what?” Ri started, though she had no intentions of actually letting Niq answer. “For a country that wouldn’t risk they life for yours?”
“Ri-” Niq started, trying to interrupt.
“You a stud black woman that dress like a nigga. You a minority if I ever seen one, man,” Riri set the blunt on the cement step next to her, freeing her hands to form a fist to accentuate her words. “You gay, a woman, and black! How bout you pick a struggle before you go off to war to fight for mine-”
Niq flexed her leg, kicking Riri swiftly in the shin. “Will you shut the fuck up?” She asked, turning to look through the open front door to see if your mom or grandmother were lingering.
The eyeroll you gave came from deep in your soul. Yes, you were the genius of the family, but Niq couldn’t be that fucking dense. Both your mother and grandmother knew of her sexuality; they’d spoken to you about it on many occasions, mistaking Niq and Ri for a couple.
“This girl think I don’t know what go on in my own house?” Your moms scoffed.
You reached for the pack of grapes she was washing, risking a pop to your hand before popping one into your mouth. With a crunch, you’d responded, “They don’t go together, ma.”
“I’m not stupid, y/n-”
“Never said you was, mama,” you’d cut her off, biting back a smile. “They can’t, though.”
“And why is that?” your grandmama chimed in from the other side of the kitchen. “Back in my day, it was frowned upon, but don’t yall got that ‘pride’ shit now?”
“Language, mama,” your moms chimed in without looking up from her task.
“Girl, I gave birth to you. You not gon correct me on my language, I’ll say whatever the fuck I want-”
You were quick to interject; they could go all day if you didn’t. Reaching for another grape, you spoke up, “They’d kill each other tryna decide which one of them is the man in the relationship,” you joked, quickly turning on your heel and exiting the room before they could ask any more questions. God forbid they get you to slip up about the girl Niq used to sneak into her room when she thought everyone was asleep.
“I’m tryna make life better, Ri. My future gotta be better than my past, and there ain’t no way Imma bank bankroll that without giving something up in return.”
“What was wrong with the way we was doing shit before?”
“I’m too pretty for jail is what was wrong, Riri.”
“Nigga, please-” Ri tucked the blunt back into her mouth, holding a lighter to the charred end and inhaling deeply. “So what now?”
“What you mean?”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do while you gone, Niq? How I’m supposed to get this shit off me?” She gestured to the illegal drug rolled solid and burning between her lips. “What-” her voice cracked in a way that was unlike Riri.
A cough brought it back to life, but you’d noticed the disregarded tear in Riri’s right eye. “What am I gon do without you?”
Niq’s shoulders dropped, weighing heavily from the same emotion Riri was trying to hold at bay. She looked back at you, locking eyes for what felt like a solid minute. “You gon take care of doll for me.”
Her words shocked you, leaning your frame forward until you almost fell out of the chair. “She gon what?” You finally spoke up loudly enough to be heard, causing a second pair of eyes to land on you.
This pair burned a bit, clinging to you as if it didn’t want to let go. “Imma what?” She questioned without looking away.
Niq turned back to Riri. “Look out for doll for me, Ri.”
“What the fuck I need taking care of for Niq?” you broke your gaze off of Riri, feeling a tug in your chest as you did.
“Language!” your mother yelled from inside the house.
“How you hear me and not them?” you yelled back, sweeping your hand towards the girls seated across from you, still on the steps.
“You starting college next month, doll. You need to stay on the right path; Riri gon make sure you do.”
“I’m starting college next month, Niq. Meaning I am an adult. Meaning I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Yeah, that’s not exactly what I was volunteering for, Niq-” Riri went unheard as the argument between sisters grew louder.
“I’m not gonna be here to look out for you, y/n-”
“I don’t need you looking out for me! You’re going to basic training, nigga, not war!”
“I don’t know when imma be back!” Niq’s voice rang over yours, shutting you up as what seemed like a street full of nosy neighbors went silent. “I got basic training, then AIT, then who knows where the fuck imma end up.”
Riri’s head dropped, not wanting to imagine the possibilities, while you glared at your sister, not backing down from hers. “I graduated, then dipped, y/n. You graduated top of your class. You got into every college you applied to, and I barely got into the community college.”
Her leg rose as she climbed the steps, reaching you in three quick movements. “You got something going for you,” Niq said, grabbing your hands. “Ain’ nothing wrong with joining the military, but this was my last resort, doll,” she stated with a small smile. “Selling dope couldn’t be it for me. I wanna not live with ma and granny one day.”
Both your lines of vision dropped to your connected hands, and you squeezed tighter. She was leaving you in the morning. Your older sister, your first friend.
“This the only way imma make a name for myself,” she said before turning back to Riri. “Promise me you gon look out for her.”
Riri lifted her head slowly, dragging her eyes up to meet yours. Gazes locked, she promised, lips barely parting.
“Good,” Niq replied, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “My doll better be in one piece when I get back.”
Niq didn’t come back. Not on some morbid shit, she was alive and well, just caught up in the U.S. military’s fucked up sense of humor. South Korea, they said, for the next two and a half years. Over six thousand miles away, with a 14-hour time difference. Which meant, for the past six months, texting had been your lifeline, and even that was spotty. By the time the sun rose in Chicago, she was well into her work day, and when she went to lay her head down at night, you were well into yours. You’d heard your sister’s voice less in these couple of months than you ever had in your entire life.
And of course, shit hit the fan once she left. Grandma got sick, real sick. The type of sick that at-home remedies and late-night prayers couldn’t touch. The nursing home three miles up the road had been the only option left, and she wasn’t exactly willing to go. Dragging her there had damn near broken something in your mom. “When it rains, it pours,” she’d murmured that night, wiping at the tears she wouldn’t allow to fall.
With you and Mama being the only two at home now, things got tense. You were her sole focus, and arguing had become a daily task, and you were sick of it. She was hyperfixated on you, the way you dressed, how you wore your hair, even how often you were coming home.
“We spent time and money decorating that dorm room, and you don’t even wanna stay in it!” She said it like a punchline every time you walked in the door. No greeting. Just disappointment dressed in a sigh.
As unbearable as she was making it, home was your escape. It was frozen in a time before everything changed and everyone left. Niq’s room still looked the same—messy, loud, alive. Her dirty laundry littered the floor like she’d just stepped out. Her vinyls still clung to the wall, crooked and fading, collecting dust. Grandma’s room hadn’t changed since you were a kid. Same heavy curtains blocking out the sun, same stack of books in the corner, like she’d be back any minute.
And college? A fucking joke. The workload hit you in relentless waves, and you couldn’t stay afloat. Your grades were in free fall, D’s scattered across your progress report like bruises. You were too tired to even pretend to care anymore.
Your roommate didn’t help. A bubbly blonde from ‘Bama who “didn’t get why you needed all those products” for your hair. She partied constantly, stumbled in loud as hell, and crashed wherever she landed. Once, you found her asleep facedown in your hamper.
You were over it. Done. Ready to tap out
That’s what tonight’s argument was about. “I’ll be damned if you dropout, y/n! That’s not an option!”
You leaned over the kitchen counter, gripping the edge so hard your knuckles ached.
“I can’t do it anymore, ma-”
“Yes, you can, and you will! Take a break. Set a damn schedule," she snapped, waving her hands like she was shooing a demon. "Sleep in that dorm room we paid for so you ain’t commuting back and forth every night!"
“You not hearing me-”
"You’re damn right I’m not! Your sister made it through basic training; You can survive a few essays!"
And there it was. That sharp little blade she loved to twist—Niq.
“Niq wasn’t walking out my house with her belly out-”
“Niq didn’t spend hundreds of dollars on some braids-”
Niq didn’t curse, cry, or crumble. You were sick of living in her shadow.
“Whatever, ma,” you mumbled, stomping towards the front door.
“Whachu say, girl?” she shot back, sharp and fast. She heard you. She just wanted to give you the chance to backpedal.
Instead, you doubled down. “WHATEVER, ma!” you shouted harshly, yanking the door and slamming it behind you. “Fuck!”
The air outside hit your face like a slap—cool, grounding. You closed your eyes, and sucked in a long breath until your lungs felt full enough to float.
“Your sister would beat your ass, she heard you talking to your mama like that,” a voice spoke up from the far corner of the porch, casual, but heavy. Familiar.
“My sister ain’ here,” you retorted, eyes still shut.
The creak of wood under their skeptical footsteps. Then the warm, familiar scent of lavender and amber rolled over you, soft and cloying. Your curls lifted in the breeze before dropping back down like they were tired too.
“Then maybe I should beat your ass for her.” It sounded like a tease, but you knew of the real threat that hung beneath those words.
You sighed, deep and heavy. Like it was too much effort to drag your eyes open and stare at her like she was the last person you wanted to see and the only one you needed. “What you want, Riri?”
She stood across from you now, just an arm’s length away. Her signature cornrows were gathered into two buns at the nape of her neck, where two chains hung, glittering in the sun. The plain black tee she wore was skin tight, a stark contrast to the baggy pants that hung low on her hips. Your eyes dropped—unapologetically. You took your time dragging them back up to hers. Her gaze was already waiting.
“Checkin’ on you like Niq asked me to,” she said with a sniff and a smirk, dropping her head to hide it.
She’d kept to her promise, you had to give her that. Riri had slipped into your routine like she’d always belonged. Calling, dropping by, showing up unannounced just to make sure you were still breathing.
You heard her voice more than Niq’s now.
Saw her more, too.
Her eyes rose when you moved, watching you reach up to gather your hair into a puff atop your head. “You talk to her today?” you asked.
Riri shook her head, causing the chains to twinkle as they brushed over each other. “You?” she questioned back, noticing you staring at the necklaces.
“Nope,” you responded, popping the ‘p’.
“What was that just now?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the house where your mother could still be heard fussing behind the thick wooden door.
“Nothin’ I wanna talk about.”
She didn’t press. That’s what made it easier. “Ight, ight,” she lulled off. “You going back to the dorm tonight, or you crashing here?”
“I ain’ ‘crashing’ nowhere, Ri. This my house.”
Riri sucked her teeth. You smiled before you could stop yourself. “Girl, answer the damn question,” Her soft laugh made your stomach tighten.
“Imma let ma calm down some, but I’ll be here.”
Riri nodded, already stepping down from the porch. She fished a blunt from her pocket, lit it, and turned. "I’ll see you later, then?"
You hesitated, then: "Ri—"
She turned fast, eyes scanning you like something might be wrong. "Yeah, doll?"
You jogged down the steps, heart thudding—not from the run.
Her eyes dropped. She saw it. Saw the way your chest moved. Saw everything.
The blunt rested between her teeth, balancing on her pretty brown lips, when you plucked it from her. Placing it in your mouth instead, you mumbled, “Light it.”
She shook her head, but obeyed. “Quit giving your mama a hard time.”
Your eyes rolled as you inhaled, willing the smoke to fill your mouth, then your lungs. Riri stood by, watching your fluid movements like she was drawn to them. You puckered your lips and blew your residual smoke right into her face. She didn’t flinch. Just smiled. That stupid, sweet little smirk that sent shivers down your spine.
Her eyes locked on your mouth for a beat too long before she finally turned away.
No goodbyes. Just silence.
You both went in opposite directions—her swaggering off into the twilight, you back toward the porch with the blunt tucked between your lips, just like she always wore it.
You curled up in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, not daring to go back inside until the scent of marijuana on you was washed away by the wind. The daytime hue crept away as night crawled in. One by one, the streetlights flickered on, and the world softened.
It had been a while since you heard your mother stomping about the house; long enough to assume she’d gone to bed. You rose, stretched, crept to the front door, and silently prayed it wasn’t locked.
It clicked open easily. You whispered a quiet "Thank you" and slipped inside, up the stairs, to the one place that still felt like yours.
You had just shut the door, hand on the lock, when you heard it—a faint tapping on your window.
It slid open slowly.
And then, with the grace of a secret, a familiar figure slipped inside.
Riri didn’t say anything as she landed, just brushed off her pants and locked the window behind her like she’d done a hundred times before.
You didn’t speak either.
You just watched her. In your space, moving like she belonged.
She kicked off her shoes with one lazy push, letting them land wherever. Then she sat at the edge of your bed like it was her own, legs spread, elbows resting on her knees, head tilted as she studied you. That same unreadable look on her face, tension running through her body, leaving her rigid.
You leaned against your desk, arms crossed, heart thudding a little louder than you liked. The room was quiet except for the soft creak of your box fan oscillating in the corner and the hum of the streetlight buzzing through the curtains. Riri sat like she had all the time in the world, like your room was her room and you were the one visiting.
"Why you staring at me like that?" you asked, the words heavier than you meant them to be.
She raised one brow but didn’t answer right away. Just leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “Like what?”
You shrugged, eyes dropping to your feet. “Cut the shit, Ri. What’s the problem?”
"Mm," she hummed, leaning back again, letting silence stretch between you. "Maybe I just don't like seeing you fight with your moms like that."
You scoffed, turning toward your desk to fidget with the loose cord of your lamp. "Then don’t come over."
A pause weighed all too heavily between the two of you.
"You want me to stop?"
You didn’t turn around, but your hands stilled.
She let the question hang there, testing the air like smoke.
When you finally turned to face her, Riri was still watching you, eyes soft now. No teasing. No smirk. Just her, open in a way that made your chest ache.
"No," you said quietly.
"Then quit saying dumb shit."
You walked toward her slowly, like you were approaching something delicate. She didn’t move. Just let you come closer until you were standing between her knees again. Her hands came up, settling on your waist like a habit.
“I’m tired,” you murmured, voice cracking on the edges.
“I know,” she said. “Come here.”
You climbed into her lap without hesitation this time, tucking your face into her neck like it was the only safe place in the world. Her arms wrapped around you, firm and sure, and for a second, you let yourself pretend the rest of it didn’t exist—school, your mama, Niq, the weight of trying to hold it all together.
Just her. Just you.
And when she turned to kiss you, it was deep and desperate, like she needed it to hold shit together just as badly as you did.
A sigh escaped from you, and Riri swallowed it without a second thought. These nights, these moments were the only thing that made the tough days worth it. Her hands crept up beneath your shirt, stopping just shy of your bra line.
She pulled away, much to your demise. You leaned into her, silently begging for her lips back on yours, groaning when she dodged your attempts with a lazy smile.
“C’mon, baby, this ain’t new to you.” Her hands left your skin, taking their warmth with them. “Tell me what you want,” she spoke lowly, propping her arms behind her to support her weight. Her command was lustful, sharing the feeling like a disease. Your stomach coiled.
“I want you to touch me, Ri,” you whined, grabbing at her hands in futile attempts.
“Where?” she asked, nipping your chin when you got close enough.
Annoyance growing, you yanked the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head and discarding it somewhere on the floor with Riri’s shoes. Your bra was just as easy to slip out of. The dainty pink piece dangled on the tip of your finger in front of Ri’s face before floating to the ground as well.
Your breasts sat pretty and perky, right under Riri’s nose. She was hypnotized by your dark areolas and the way your nipples were already pointing towards her mouth. The scent of you made her mouth water. She sat up, wanting to get closer, and you took the opportunity to contort her hands like a marionette.
You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped when you placed one of her palms right on your breasts, just like she couldn’t help the way her hips bucked into you involuntarily. You spilled into her hand, filling it up properly, sinfully.
The other hand brushed against your naked abdomen so tenderly as it trailed towards the button of your jeans. She tapped at it absentmindedly, never taking her gaze away from the goosebumps sprouting across your bosom. “Take these off,” her order was whispered, but direct.
Now it was her turn to whine when your body left hers. Standing and ready to give her a show, Riri gazed up at you with literal hearts in her eyes, mesmerized, watching you spin until your back was to her and your hips were shimmying the pants down past them.
She watched as they pooled at your feet and you stepped out, leaving you in nothing but a pair of panties. “These, too?” you questioned, fingers already tucked into the hem, ready to be rid of them. Riri nodded pathetically, having lost her voice at the sight of you.
Off came those, as well, and she barely gave you a moment to blink before her hands were on your waist. The way she threw you onto the bed was quick and rough, the frame creaking. She ignored your coos and open arms, bending instead to pick your panties up off the floor. Bringing them up to her face, she inhaled deep, filling her lungs with you. The thin lace disappeared into her pocket with a dark smirk. “My trophy.” Her look at you was drool-worthy, and the coil in your stomach wound tighter.
“Nasty girl,” you hummed to her, watching as she stalked to you. Like an animal. Predator to prey.
“Baby, I’m not nasty,” her hands wrapped around your ankles, tugging you to the edge of the mattress. You were foldedin half as she bent at the waist, stuffing her face in your cunt. Her nose brushed too lightly against your tender clit, holding on tighter as you twitched beneath her. “I’m grown.”
Her tongue lapped you, from slit to clit, flat and wide. Just once, and then her puckered lips were blowing cool air onto your wetness. Your whines were soft and low, much too quiet for Riri’s liking. “You must want me to stop.” She licked you again, slowly, placing a kiss to your clit when she reached it. “I know you can be louder than that, baby.”
She was lapping at you like one would an ice cream cone. “I know your mama’s home-” she conversed with herself, your brain having turned to mush. “I’ll make sure ma don’t hear us.” Her lips closed around your clit, sucking lightly. Your hips lifted from the bed, trying to push your cunt further into her face, needy and begging. Ri held you down like you weighed nothing, hands pressed to the parts of you where pelvis connected with thigh. “I just wanna hear you a lil bit,” she spoke again, lulling her tongue to rub tight circles over your bud.
Moans caught in your throat, not good enough for Ri. Her fingers dragged across your skin, reaching the wetness on your thighs before teasing your puffy lips. Her nails dragged against you, watching you clench around nothing while her tongue still worked. “I can make you scream, y/n.”
Your eyes widened in horror, one that was quickly washed away by pleasure as her fingers toyed with your entrance. “That what you want, doll? Want the whole neighborhood hearing you scream my name?” She thrust into you, two fingers deep. You moaned, deep and guttural, but still too quiet for the prideful girl digging you out.
Your pussy fluttered around her, squeezing tight and pulling her in. “Louder for me, baby.” Her fingers scissored inside of you, curving to hit that squishy part and pulling away, before thrusting back into it. “How I’m ‘pose to know I’m doing a good job if I can’t hear you?”
She kept one hand thrown across your pelvis, in a lazy attempt to keep you glued to the bed. As strong as she was, the way she was fucking you lifted your body like you were possessed. Riri curved her fingers even further, digging into you. You could feel the pressure building, the way you felt like a too-tight rubber band about to pop.
She could feel you clenching around her fingers, so tight, she could barely move. “Shit, baby, I wish I could feel you like this on my cock.” Her nasty words hit you straight in the cunt, splashing around her further. “I’d be in this shit every fucking night.” Ri was hovering over you now, her movements not slowing. “Pumping you full,” she described, hips thrusting, pushing her digits into you. “You’d walk out this house with a belly full of me.”
Your head lifted, watching the place where you and Riri were connected. The sight was a filthy one. Her crotch sported a wet spot that could only be explained away by the way you were leaking onto her. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, and she glowed beneath the artificial yellow light coming from the streetlight through your window.
You were a beautiful, bumbling mess beneath her. Breasts bouncing, stomach wet with sweat and your own juices. You looked downright pornographic.
“Fuck, Ri,” you gasped. Bottom lip tucked between your rows of teeth, you bit down so hard you were afraid it would bleed. “Fuck, fuck me,” you choked out.
So vocal, so vulgar, but still, too quiet.
The pumping into your cunt stopped, but only for a moment. Long enough to send a lustful groan from between your lips. Your gummy walls stretched as Riri added a third finger, resuming her staggering movements. “There you go, baby, that was almost loud enough.”
One hand cupping your breast, the other scratching at Riri’s wrist. “Nuh-” you tried, but the words were sloppy, almost as sloppy as your pretty pussy. “Too much, Ri!” You sounded like a habitual drunk, slurred and slack.
“No, it's not.”
You nodded fast. “Is-it is!” You cried, uncaring of how shrill you were becoming.
“You can take it.” She thrusted harder, deeper, fingertips drumming against your cervix.
“Ri, please-”
“You can take it because I said so, baby. Take what I give you.” She growled at you.
“Ri,” you dragged out the last syllable in her name, singing it as your pussy tightened, contracting. Your orgasm came fast and without warning. Riri’s come covered hand was quick to seal your mouth, muffling what remained.
She saw the way your eyes darkened, ready to lash out at her. You were silenced by her slick fingers forcing their way between your lips. “I know, I know, too loud. My bad.”
You bit down on her hand, earning a small slap to your cheek. “Clean me up,” she shoved her wet fingers back into your mouth, pulling forth a gag from the back of your throat. “Good girl,” she praised, noticing the way your legs clenched together at her words. “Clean yourself off me.”
And you did, hollowing your cheeks to suck yourself from her fingers, licking inbetween each of them with your eyes locked on hers. “Nasty girl,” she whispered, unable to look away.
“Not nasty,” you released her fingers with a pop, planting a kiss on her palm before pulling away. “Just grown.”
Riri's hand traced slow, absent-minded circles against your lower back, the two of you tangled together in the glow of your nightlight. Her heartbeat was steady beneath your cheek, but yours had started to trip.
You spoke without lifting your head. “You ever gonna tell her?”
Her fingers paused for half a second. Just long enough.
“Niq?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah.”
Another pause. Longer this time. You could almost hear her thinking, feel the tension slip into her muscles.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. Soft. Like the words might bruise. This wasn’t the first time you two had tried having this conversation; you’d just hoped the answer had changed this time.
You sat up just enough to see her face. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean, I don’t know, baby,” She sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “It’s not like I planned for this to happen. I was supposed to watch out for her little sister, not fuck her little sister! Not fall for her-”
You laughed, bitter and low. “You planned to sneak through my window every night?”
“No,” she snapped, sitting up straighter. “I planned to look out for you. That’s it. Be your big sister’s responsible friend. That was the job.”
“But that’s not what this is.”
Her eyes met yours, jaw tight. “No. It’s not.”
"So, what—this whole thing just stays in the dark forever?" You gestured vaguely between you two. “You get to touch me like this, hold me like this, but I gotta pretend we’re just cool every time Niq calls? Every time I say your name around her, I gotta pretend I don’t feel anything? You fuck me at night, go about your business during the day? I don’t get to take pictures of us, we can’t go on dates-”
“Don’t do that,” she warned, her voice suddenly sharp beneath the darkness. “Don’t act like this is just that easy for me.”
“I’m not,” you snapped back. “I’m saying I’m tired of acting like it's not what it is.”
Silence again.
She leaned back on her palms, eyes flicking to the ceiling like it might hand her an answer. “You know she’d lose her shit if she found out. That we been doing this behind her back, lying to her and shit.”
“And what?” you challenged. “You scared she won’t fuck with you anymore?”
Riri didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
You saw it in her face.
You deflated, more hurt than angry now. “Damn. So that’s what this is.”
“She’s my best friend, y/n. My first friend in a long ass time,” Riri said quietly. “I can’t just throw that away.”
Your mouth opened, then closed. The words caught in your throat like smoke.
Riri sat up, reaching for your hand, but you pulled it away before she could touch you. She flinched, barely, but enough.
“I’m not asking you to throw that away,” you said. “I’m just asking you to stop hiding me. I’m grown, remember? Niq can handle finding out about us.”
The room felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest ached in that familiar, dull way—like disappointment had taken up permanent residence.
She reached for you again, slower this time. “You know I care about you, right?”
You looked at her, eyes burning. “Then act like it. Love me out loud, Riri,” you challenged.
And for once, she didn’t have a clever answer.
Your gaze bounced around her face, studying it for some type of reaction, as hers did the same to you. Every glance you shared was cloaked in the kind of silence that spoke louder than any confession, a secret only you understood.
The silence had stretched so long, it didn’t even feel like silence anymore. It felt like its own thing—loud, alive, sitting between you like a wall you hadn’t built but somehow helped keep up.
You rolled over, turning your back to her. A coward’s move, sure, but you didn’t want her to see your face break.
Behind you, Riri shifted. The bed creaked, and for a moment, you thought she might leave—slip out the window like she always did, disappearing before either of you had to deal with the mess.
But then she spoke, voice low, wrecked.
“I hate this shit.”
You stilled.
“I hate feeling like I gotta choose between wanting you and keeping my friendship with her.”
You turned just enough to glance over your shoulder. “Who said it has to be a choice?”
“She didn’t,” Riri admitted, laughing bitterly. “But she will. You know Niq. She’s not gonna just roll with this like it’s cool. She’s gonna feel betrayed. We betrayed her, baby.”
You sat up, tugging the blanket around your naked chest. “Then what? We keep sneaking around forever? I’m your dirty little secret until she moves back and this whole thing blows up in our faces?”
Riri stared at the ceiling again, jaw clenched, before reaching your glare and shaking her head. “Nah, baby. You’re so much more than a dirty little secret. You don’t deserve that. Don’t deserve this.”
You blinked. “What?”
“This.” She waved a hand between you. “Being with someone who can’t give you everything you need and more without shit falling apart.”
Your throat burned. “So what—this is it? That’s your answer?”
She didn’t say anything. Just let the weight of it hang between you.
That was the moment it cracked. Not in some dramatic, yelling kind of way—but quiet, and devastating. Heartbreaking
“I’m not gonna beg you to choose me,” you whispered, giving up. Your voice didn’t even sound like yours.
Riri’s eyes finally met yours. And for once, they looked scared.
Not angry. Not stoic.
Just scared.
You slid off the bed, heading to your closet to grab an oversized sleep shirt. Without bothering to look back, you added, “I love you, Ri.”
The words landed like a punch.
You didn’t wait for her to say it back. You didn’t even expect her to. You just needed her to know.
Because if she wasn’t gonna fight for this, then at least one of you had to be brave enough to say what it really was.
You slipped out the door towards your bathroom, leaving her in the darkness with silence, and all the pieces of what you could’ve been.
summary: you were on your way out. your uber was around the corner. but shuri decided to pay you a visit before you could even step out the front door, changing the entire course of your night.
word count: 8.2k
contains: just smut, with a teensey weensey bit of plot! (18+), dom!shuri, sub!reader, fingering (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), praise, strap!shuri, panther!shuri, dirty talk, strap sucking, panty sniffing, size!kink, possessive!shuri, slight mention of blood, creampie, rough sex, overstimulation
note: i was ovulating, i missed shuri, and i was listening to worst behavior on repeat. what can i say? this is my one and only contribution to kinktober. hope youse enjoy. mwah, mwah! xx.
The bass from your Bluetooth speaker still thumped faintly in the background as you twisted your lip gloss shut, and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You looked good. Black strapless dress hugging your curves, doing wonders for your boobs, hoops glinting in the light, heels strapped up just right. Your phone was buzzing on the counter, a flurry of texts from your group chat hyping you up and exchanging ETAs.
You: Uber will be here in ten, see y’all in a bit.
And then you hit send, keys in hand, halfway to the door when your ears caught the low purr of an engine outside.
Not your Uber.
Something heavier—a sound you’d come to know quite well over the past few months.
When you peeked through the blinds, the culprit crept smoothly into view. An all-black Rolls Royce with windows tinted darker than midnight, and you knew exactly who steered behind the wheel as the car came to a languid stop in front of your home.
You scurried back over to the front door with a stupid grin plastered on your face, and opened it, stepping outside just as the driver's door swung open. Shuri exited the vehicle like she owned the night, composed of nothing but untested confidence.
She wore black slacks, and a leather jacket that hung open just enough to show off the crisp white tee underneath. Her golden Panther necklace rested against her chest, and when she tossed a grin over at you, her grills glinted under the moonlight, making you bite your lip.
But it was the bouquet that lifted a smirk to your lips. Impossibly red roses, with your name written all over them.
She closed the door with a quiet click, her gaze locked on yours from across the driveway. There was a calm fire in her eyes, a steadiness in the way she walked that told you just how much she was sure of herself. It took all the restraint you had not to sprint into her arms, you wouldn't be bested by her mere presence, even though you’d done it shamelessly in the past.
When she reached you, you inhaled deep and held your breath, wanting her cologne to inebriate you.
“Molo, Sphalaphala sam.” She flashed you a full smile now, grills and all, and their blinding sparkle almost blew you back. “These are for you.” (hello, my pretty one.)
“You know I love it when you speak Xhosa.” You giggled, unable to keep yourself from blushing as you accepted the flowers. “Hello to you too, my Panther.”
Shuri let her eyes graze your attire—the tight dress, the excessive amount of cleavage, the brand new Louboutins she’d bought you earlier in the week—and she bit her lip unabashedly. “You look… breathtaking.”
“Thank you,” You grinned, looking up at her with big brown eyes that sparkled under the moonlight. “But what are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming.”
This made Shuri laugh, and she dipped her head. “Do I need a reason to want to see you?”
Playfully, you rolled your eyes. “No. But I was on my way out. I have plans–”
“And now, they're changing.” Her words held all the conviction in the world, because of course they did, and luckily for her, you were attracted to her arrogance.
You parted your lips, ready to rebut, just as a black Lexus UX rounded the corner, pulling in right behind Shuri’s car. The headlights cut through the darkness in two clean beams, briefly sweeping across the porch and catching the glint of your earrings before dimming.
“Are you expecting company?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder before turning back to face you, one brow arched.
You took a step down the two porch steps, the wood creaking slightly under your heel, arm outstretched for Shuri to guide you. “That's Raul.”
“Oh.” Her face twitched, her smile slackened, and you watched as she tightened her jaw, her expression morphing into something dramatic. “I was unaware you’d taken an interest in men.”
You could cackle—you almost did. “Shuri, don't be ridiculous. Raul is my Uber driver. And, I’m making him wait, the longer I stand here talking to you.”
A breeze drifted past you, warm as it brushed the hem of your dress against your legs.
Shuri glanced behind her again, giving Raul a sympathetic look. Then she turned back to you, mischief already brewing in her smirk. “Give me a moment.”
You watched curiously from your front porch as she jogged over to the Lexus, shoes soft on the gravel. The motion-activated floodlight by your neighbor’s garage blinked on, backlighting her like she was on a runway. She knocked on the window, and Raul rolled it down skeptically.
For a moment, Shuri just stood there, speaking, gesturing with her hands in that animated way she always did when she was working someone. And then, they were laughing like old friends. Her and Raul. You scoffed quietly in disbelief, the bouquet crushed slightly against your chest. Then, she pulled out her wallet and slipped him a number of bills you couldn’t make out, but it was enough to make Raul smile and nod before pulling off, his taillights bleeding red down the block.
A beat later she was coming back down the driveway, grinning, all of her dazzling diamond grills on display.
“Okay,” She said as she approached you again, more confident than before, like that was even possible. “I took care of Raul.”
You stared at her, shifting the flowers from one arm to the other. “Did you seriously just bribe my ride?”
Shuri smirked. “Oh, bribe is such an ugly word. I prefer tipped generously for an early exit.”
You exhaled hard through your nose, barely masking your smile. “My friends are still expecting me, you know.”
“Well, you should call them,” She said quietly, stepping in closer to you. “Tell them something has come up. That you aren't going to make it after all.”
You narrowed your eyes in her direction, warring internally with the smirk threatening to break free. “And you're so convinced that I’m going to choose you, over hot wings and margaritas?”
She let a sly grin climb her features. “Yes.”
A moth fluttered lazily around the porch light, wings casting quick shadows across the railing. You were trying to stand your ground. Or, at least make it seem that way. You wore a stern look, wanting to intimidate, to cast doubt, to make her think you disapproved of her antics.
But you were failing. And Shuri wasn't buying it.
You were definitely going with her.
You were already reaching for your phone in your mind. Already figuring out how you were going to word the apologetic text.
She extended her arm again, and god help you, you took it. “I hate you sometimes,” You muttered, rolling your eyes as she led you toward her car, still playing the reluctant victim.
“That's the thing I love most about you, Sphalaphala sam.” (my pretty one)
•••
“Take off your panties and give them to me.”
You were mid-bite, forking a piece of roasted sea bass onto your tongue, when Shuri said it. For a minute, you thought you'd misheard her, but when you looked across the table, and studied her face, you'd found she was more serious than a heart attack. And expectant.
The restaurant whirred with low chatter and the occasional clink of silverware against porcelain, so thankfully, no one apart from you had heard her vulgar request. She was sitting there, posture relaxed, her wine glass dangling in her fingers as she moved to take another sip.
Her eyes were swallowed black as she stared at you, wearing the faintest little smirk. You hadn't acknowledged her demand, not with a response or reaction, but she was aware you’d heard her, and that was enough ammunition for her to go off of. Shuri was patient, you see, and it was not above her to have you sit here all night until you adhered to her.
Your skin prickled with sudden heat the longer she eyed you. Your neck, collarbones, and the inside of your thighs—arousal blooming too fast to hide.
You cleared your throat, sizing her up a little with your eyes. “This dress is way too tight for me to do that at this table.”
Shuri shrugged, nonchalant “Just try.”
You took that as a challenge, your brow lifting with a seductive curve. Your eyes flicked around the room—scanning, calculating—checking to see if anyone had eyes on your table. The low lighting helped; the ambiance was all moody shadows and murmured conversation, just loud enough to cover the sound of your heartbeat hammering in your chest.
You bit your lip.
Then, you stood. Just for a second, casual and controlled. But on the inside, adrenaline was pumping fast through your veins, and you could feel Shuri’s eyes locked on you, dark and burning with intent.
Your fingers curled discreetly into the fabric of your dress, gripping it just enough to feel the edge of your underwear through it. You exhaled a steady breath, then tugged. Just slightly. Enough to feel the garment start to slide. The hem of your dress shifted as the fabric underneath rolled over your hips, then slipped down your thighs.
You glanced around once more, heart pounding in your throat. There were still no eyes or servers nearby, just the weight of Shuri’s gaze burning into you.
The fabric was bunched in your lap now, caught loose around your knees. You used your hands to guide them the rest of the way, inch by inch until they fell around your ankles.
Your blood roared in your ears, but your face stayed composed.
When you looked up, there she was. Shuri, failing to sit still in her own seat, mouth parted slightly as she moved to bite her fist.
You let your smirk stretch wider.
Then, with the same ease you’d use to pick up a dropped napkin, you leaned down under the table all smooth like it meant nothing.
Finally, you stepped out of your panties.
After balling the damp fabric in your fist, you straightened again with a breathy exhale. And without saying a word, you reached across the table, took Shuri’s hand, and opened her fingers one by one, holding her stare the entire time.
Then you dropped the warm, sticky fabric into her palm.
She let out a broken, disbelieving laugh, wonder lighting up her face as her eyes panned down to the lacey fabric resting in her hand. “That was so fucking perfect, sthandwa.” She breathed.
“Satisfied?” You questioned, meeting her stare with a raised brow as you took a swig from your wine glass, needing to calm your fraying nerves.
“Pleased more so than anything,” She answered, lifting her stuffed hand to her nose.
You watched as she inhaled your wet panties, breathing you in deep with a sigh of contentment. Then, just as slyly as you slipped them off, Shuri slipped them into her jacket pocket, long lashes fluttering at you.
“I won’t be satisfied, until I have you naked and whimpering around me.”
Her words made you squeeze your legs together, the gesture putting pressure on your throbbing clit as you felt your quivering pussy leak onto the seat cushion.
Mischief flashed across your eyes like flares, “I think it's time you get the check, Panther.”
Shuri was flagging your unsuspecting waiter back over to the table soon after, a devious smirk forming onto her mouth.
•••
You’d barely cleared the threshold of the restaurant before Shuri’s hand closed around your wrist, firm and unrelenting as she hurriedly pulled you into the night air. It kissed your skin, the breeze, but it didn't do a damn thing to cool you down.
Your panties were still in her pocket, and her grip made it clear she had no intention of waiting until you got home.
“Get in,” She ordered, voice electric as she pulled open the door to the backseat.
You stumbled in, blaming the wine, your heels, the way your pulse was still punching at your throat for your clumsiness. Shuri shut the door with a thud, climbing in beside you, and you scooted your thick thighs across the cool leather seats.
“Griot, activate self driving mode.” You heard the low chime of acknowledgment, then the gentle growl of the engine as it came to life. The vehicle eased forward smoothly, gliding into motion like it knew not to disturb what was coming.
And then Shuri was on you.
In the somber, tinted shadows of the spacious backseat, she shoved you onto your back, kissing you like a woman starving. Her body was pressed tight against yours, pinning you to the cool leather as her mouth crashed into yours with hot, urgent ferocity. Your tongues tangled messily, your breathy whines swallowed by her lips, her hunger bleeding into every panting exhale.
The seat beneath you vibrated as the vehicle glided down the street, the occasional sway of the ride adding a reckless, swerving rhythm to her movements.
Shuri broke the kiss, panting desperately as she connected her lips back to your skin, dragging heat down your throat. She paused, stopping to bite your collarbone, the sensation sharp enough to make you gasp before it morphed into a tender lick. Her hands slid down your sides, mapping every curve, every dip, as though she were memorizing you through touch alone.
When her fingers found the edge of your strapless dress, she slowed, glancing up with that look—the one that asked for permission without bothering to hide how badly she wanted it.
You nodded, too fast, too eager, heart racing in your chest like it might leap out. “Yes,” You breathed impatiently.
She bit her lip, a flash of her grills catching the dim light, then tugged the fabric down until your breasts spilled free—warm, heavy, and aching for her mouth.
You moaned when she cupped one, lifting it to her lips. Her mouth closed around your nipple, sucking hard and slow. Your back arched, and a cry slipped out before you could stop it. The way her tongue circled your sensitive bud, then flicked just slightly, had your toes curling as you kicked off your heels.
She moved to the other breast without a word, lavishing it with the same attention, like your body was her altar and she had no intention of leaving any part of it untouched.
“Panther… oh Panther, yes…”
Her lips curled into a grin around your skin, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “You're so beautiful, laid out for me like this. Like you're ready to beg for more…”
“More…” You whimpered, fingers moving to your chest to toy with your nipples yourself, trying to mimic the way she touched you.
“My impatient girl.”
She began bunching your dress up around your waist, and you shifted, propping yourself up on your elbows to help. It rode high, pooling at your midsection, baring the curve of your thighs and your softness.
Shuri paused.
Smiling. Admiring. Like every inch of your body was a gift you’d bestowed upon her.
“You want to spread these pretty legs for me, Ntomb'am?” (my girl)
She pressed a kiss to your kneecap, sweet and soft, then another along your shin, trailing lower, her mouth a brand on your skin. The smooth glide of the car gave the moment a strange sense of privacy, like nothing else existed beyond these windows and your body beneath hers.
And then, you opened your legs. Revealing everything.
The slick between your thick thighs glistened unmistakably before her, showcasing just how drenched, how sticky, and how ready you were for her. You watched her eyes widen—pupils dilating, jaw slack. She inhaled like your scent was a drug and she’d just caught her first hit.
“Bast…” She whispered, her voice thick with awe and need. Her fingers gripped your knee like she was seeking something to hold onto, eyes glued to the wetness between your legs.
The car turned gently, the movement rocking you both as if the moment itself had a pulse.
And still, Shuri didn't blink. Her muddy eyes were glazed over, her body flexing, like she was ready to worship.
“I need to put my mouth on you,” Shuri grunted, lowering herself as she settled between your thighs, her voice rough with hunger. “Tell me I can.”
Your eyes rolled back automatically, pleasure already coursing through you at just the thought of what was coming. You sprawled out beneath her, back arching slightly, completely at her mercy. “Put your mouth on me, Panther,” You breathed, voice trembling.
She growled, the sound guttural as it rattled through the space between your bodies. The second you gave her permission, she sank lower without hesitation, face inches from your dripping cunt.
You felt her breath first.
A gentle exhale against your wet pussy lips, hot and humid, making your clit twitch under the sensation. Your hips bucked on instinct, chasing more before she’d even touched you. Shuri’s eyes flicked up briefly. They were limitless and blown wide. And then she reached out, sliding one finger through your soaked folds.
She groaned, like just touching you was enough to wreck her.
Her fingertip stroked your clit with practiced pressure, coaxing a moan straight out of your throat. The pleasure hit sharp and sudden, like your nerves had been waiting on it. Your body twitched beneath her, thighs tensing around her head, and she just smiled.
“I love how wet you get for me,” She murmured, all praise and possession. “I could drown in you without even trying.”
And then her tongue was nudging at your fat clit.
She was lapping through your slick like she couldn’t get enough. Her nose brushed your mound, lips parting as she groaned into your pussy like you were her salvation. You whimpered, fingers shooting down to grip her curls, needing something to hold as her tongue worked you open.
She licked everywhere—long, slow strokes that gathered every drop you gave her. Her desperation poured through every movement, every sound, like she was trying to memorize your taste with every lick.
Her mouth climbed back up, circling your throbbing clit. The motion was easy at first, then tighter, faster, making you squirm underneath her.
The pleasure hit in waves, rolling, and relentless. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding up against her mouth, chasing the flick of her tongue like it was the single thing keeping you alive.
Warmth coiled in your belly, tightening with every wet, perfect pass of her tongue, until it felt like your body might break from how good it was. Your thighs quaked around her head as your hands tangled in her hair, holding her exactly where you needed her. You were moaning, barely coherent.
“Please, please, please,” You gasped out in prayer, like Shuri was the goddess Bast herself, and you were begging for absolution.
You cast your eyes down to where she lived between your thighs, and the sight. Oh god. Shuri was devouring you like she needed it to breathe. Her mouth was messy and full, lips sealing over your clit as she sucked. Her tongue moved with purpose, alternating between soft circles and pointed, desperate flicks at your folds that made your breath hitch and your thighs clamp tighter.
“I know you're close, sthandwa, give it over to me.”
Her sweet praises, along with her greedy slurps at your pretty pussy were the driving forces behind your impending orgasm. Shuri was ravishing you with every stroke of her tongue, coaxing that climax nearer and nearer.
You barely registered the shift—the way her hand moved—until you felt the careful press of her finger slipping inside your tight hole. You cried out, hips bucking, as your velvety walls contracted instinctively around the intrusion. The fullness, the depth, the added pressure… it was all so much, and too perfect.
Shuri moaned into your cunt like your body was feeding her. “Your messes are always the prettiest.” She whispered under the weight of reverence. Her finger curled inside of you, assailing your most sensitive spot as you whimpered in pleasure. “Won’t you make me a mess on my tongue?”
Your eyes fluttered shut. Your back arched. You could feel your orgasm building. It was fast and explosive, ready to send a rocket straight through your bones.
Every nerve in your body locked onto the rhythm of her hand, the easy glide of her finger sliding in and out of your throbbing cunt, matched perfectly with her tongue circling your clit in tight patterns.
She was worshipping you, sweet praises spilling from her mouth between strokes.
“So sweet… so fucking perfect… and all mine.”
Your vision blurred. Your hand smacked against the tinted window, and your highs trembled around her shoulders.
Then, the tension snapped.
Your orgasm rippled through your insides, blinding and explosive. Pleasure barrelled into you at lightning speed, frying your nervous system, and you were left sobbing her name, your whole body jerking around her finger. Shuri fucked you through the aftershocks, never removing her mouth from your used clit.
She was smiling against your pussy, drunk on your cum, and still whispering into your folds like you were something holy. “That’s it, my perfect girl, give it all to me… So beautiful…”
You were still pulsing, breath uneven, when the heat between you shifted again. You needed more. You needed her. Your hands slid down to Shuri’s shoulders, fingers pulling her jacket off as you tugged her up from between your thighs. She rose leisurely, mouth and chin coated with your release, and the sight alone made your stomach dip. You didn’t care about the mess on the seat, the way your thighs stuck to the leather, or the passing cars outside the tinted window. You just wanted her close.
The moment her face was level with yours, you kissed her hard. Like you needed her to feel how wrecked she’d left you.
Your head tipped back, pressing into the cool glass of the window, and Shuri moaned into your mouth, the hungry sound causing your empty hole to pulse, needing desperately to be stuffed again. She began grinding against you, as if trying to let you know just how badly she needed you.
Your legs wrapped around her waist as you pulled her closer, tighter, until there was no space left between you.
She was panting into your mouth, practically whining, her hands shaking slightly as they fumbled against her pocket. You felt her shift. Then she pulled back, just barely, her lips brushing yours as she brought your panties back into view.
A wicked grin curled across her face as she dragged the soaked fabric along your pussy, teasing your sensitive skin with it, making you gasp and jolt in her arms.
“Panther…” You whined, biting your lip as your face scrunched up in pleasure.
Shuri lifted the delicate fabric, pressing it to her nose, and she inhaled deeply. “I cannot get enough of you.”
You giggled, breathless, flushed, still vibrating from your orgasm. And she grinned, eyes gleaming, wild with want.
Before either of you could say another word, the car gave a subtle ding, slowing to a stop in front of the glowing high-rise.
“You have arrived at your destination,” Griot informed coolly, the polite voice absurdly calm given what the backseat had just witnessed.
Shuri reached for the door, laughing slyly as she tucked your panties into her back pocket.“Come on,” She said, eyes blown with promise, “we’re not done.”
•••
The elevator doors slid shut behind you, and within seconds, Shuri had you pinned to the mirrored wall, mouths crashing together in a tangle of teeth and tongue. The ride up was far from silent, considering the sounds the two of you were making—ragged breathing, the wet, frantic noise of kissing, and the quiet clink of metal as your fingers fumbled for the buckle of her pants.
You had just begun to undo it when the elevator opened directly into her penthouse.
You both hurried out, hustling through the dark, barely able to keep your hands off each other. You tripped over a low step, bumped into a lamp, nearly knocked it over as you laughed breathlessly against her mouth.
Your hands fisted the front of her shirt, dragging your nails down hard enough for her to feel it through the expensive fabric. The gesture was a warning. A promise. And then, with a snarl caught in your throat, you ripped it open, your nails slicing through the material with a satisfying rippp!
Her chest heaved, black sports bra stretching across her toned, sweat-kissed abs, and your gaze devoured her. You didn’t wait. You didn’t ask. You shoved her—hard—onto the mattress, the impact bouncing through the frame as she hit the bed, a surprised breath catching in her throat.
Shuri barely had time to smirk before you were crawling on her, not a damn thing casual about the heat in her eyes as she watched you with her bottom lip tugged between her grills.
You dragged your tongue slowly down the length of her abs, feeling every dip and divot under your mouth. The taste of sweat, skin, her—flooded your senses, making your thighs clench automatically. Your fingers went back to her belt as you slid down lower, finishing what you’d started on the ride up here.
One strong tug and it clanged against the hardwood floor. And then you yanked her pants down, her boxers too, with them exposing her pretty, creamy pussy to the air.
You sat up to take her in.
There she was, just asking for you to take a taste. Her pussy was glistening, and you could see the need in her, the heat radiating from between her thighs.
When your eyes shot to her, you weren’t at all shocked by the sight that you found. Shuri was laying there with her arms tucked casually behind her head, pretending to be unbothered, but her jaw was twitching, her chest rising a little too fast, and her eyes were pitch black and locked on your salivating mouth.
“May I, Panther?” You asked sweetly, your words dripping with need.
She raised her brows. “Only if I get to taste you too.”
You blinked, caught by surprise, until her grin turned menacing, and you realized what she was asking.
“Come sit that needy little cunt on my face, sthandwa.”
A smile curled across your lips. You were delighted, and didn't need to be told twice.
You sat up, letting her shift further onto the bed, watching as she laid flat, arms still behind her head like she owned the moment. Once you’d fully peeled your dress off, and she was settled, you climbed on top, turned around, and hovered over her mouth, watching as some of your slick drizzled onto her awaiting tongue. Her breath brushed your folds as you positioned yourself above her. And then you slapped your fat pussy down onto her face.
Shuri groaned in satisfaction, bracing her arms around your thighs, and pulled you close. At the same time, you lowered your lips to her cunt, moaning out the moment her juices filled your mouth.
You didn't waste a second, not when she was so wet, and so ready. You spread her lips with your fingers, exposing her sensitive clit more so you could suck. Her flavor was still as addicting as the first time you had a hit. Sweet and sticky, exactly how you liked her. You licked her cunt with ferocity, allowing your tongue to glide in and out of her aching entrance.
Your entire face was soaked, and at the same time, Shuri was devouring you from behind.
Her tongue was everywhere, deep and forceful, rolling around your clit before plunging inside you without warning. All of her grunts and groans were swallowed up by your messy pussy, her hands gripping your legs as she pulled you down harder onto her mouth, grinding your cunt into her face like she wanted to drown in it. Her lips sealed around your jumping bud with a hungry slurp that made your hips stutter, your moans vibrating right into her center as you kept licking.
In this moment, the two of you were entirely consumed by greed.
You could tell Shuri was on the edge, so you sucked harder, feeling her thighs twitch as your tongue absorbed everything that she leaked for you. Her moans mixed with yours, the sounds bouncing off the walls of her penthouse bedroom, building a steady pace as bodies rocked, and mouths moved.
Shuri cursed as you lapped at her core, a string of words you didn't understand, and her hips began to stiffen against your face.
The strain was building, and that familiar tightness began to spread. You could feel it in your gut, a tension band winding so tight you thought you might come just from the sound of Shuri alone.
Beneath you, she was a force.
Her mouth kept drinking you in, tongue moving with vigor against your nub of sensitive nerves. She was clasping your perspiring thighs, fingers digging into your flesh as a means to both taste more of you, and steady her own spasming body.
You hadn't stopped either. You stayed locked onto her, lips wrapped around her slippery folds, as you teasingly dipped a finger inside of her. The more noise she made, the more it edged you closer. It was all so maddening, the way her hips jerked against your face, the way she breathed your name.
“Come for me, sthandwa,” Shuri growled against your pussy, her words muffled and wet, tongue circling your core with hard, punishing swirls. “Make a big, pretty mess all over my face.”
You were gasping, bracing yourself for your second orgasm to flood your mind and body, emitting only the sounds of somber, broken cries.
“Yes! Panther– I– Yesss…”
All of your bones rattled, as you came with a sharp shriek, legs trembling. Your hips bucked, but she held you down, kept licking, kept emptying your hole with her mouth, sucking until the orgasm tore you apart. You felt the cum trickling down your inner thighs, spilling right into her mouth, and she drank you in eagerly.
At the same time, you felt Shuri tense underneath you. Her breath caught, and her hips locked. She grunted in her chest as her first climax of the night slammed into her, almost knocking her lights out. You didn't let up on her though, because she hadn't extended the same courtesy to you. You sucked her through it, your own pussy getting wetter and wetter every time she twitched in your hold, making her take every unapologetic stroke she gave you.
Eventually, your muscles gave out, and your body shrugged against hers.
You couldn’t say the same for Shuri, though.
Your cheek had landed gracefully against her stomach, your breaths shaky, eyes barely open as you tried to make sense of reality. But, before you could fully recover, Shuri’s hands grabbed your waist and she flipped you onto your back, using no effort at all.
Your head hit the mattress, eyes wide as you blinked up at her, heart racing.
Shuri hovered above you, her toned body glistening with sweat. You watched her secure her strap into place, waiting for the member to materialize like you knew it would. Her lips were parted, swollen from kissing, and she ran her tongue lazily across them, catching every trace of you she hadn’t already swallowed. When the thick, girthy length settled near her pelvis, your stomach flipped.
“Are you finished?” She asked, almost like she was challenging you again. She stroked her dick idly, wrapping your panties—that you previously thought to be discarded—around her fist as she did. Her eyes fluttered shut for half a second, moaning at the sensation she was creating for herself. “Or can my needy girl go another round?”
You just smirked at her, your pussy pulsating between your legs as she tugged you closer to her by your ankle.
•••
You rose to your knees at the edge of the mattress, eyes fixed on the thick length strapped to Shuri’s hips. It curved slightly upward, sleek, and purple, and pulsing. The sight of it made your mouth water. You leaned in, kissed the tip once, then let your lips part, tongue tracing the underside with slow intention before taking her in deeper.
Shuri hissed through her teeth, her hands resting heavy on the back of your neck. “Fuck…”
You bobbed your head, slurping her dick in the sloppiest way, tongue swiveling around the tip as you eased her further down your throat. The silicone was warm to touch, and slightly textured, designed to mimic the real thing—but better. Shuri could feel it, all of it, every flick, every suck, every wet noise you made around her.
You pulled back, spit dribbling from your lips as you looked up at her through teary eyes.
Her head tipped back as her fingers tightened in your hair. “Shit… keep… going, just like th–”
But before she could finish the sentence, she let out a sharp gasp and jerked her hips back, dragging the strap out of your used throat with a loud, wet pop.
“Stop.” Her voice crackled slightly as she searched for the breath in her lungs. She looked at you through wild eyes, her pupils blown out with lust. “Lay down.”
She gripped your jaw, thumb brushing over your spit-slicked lips. “You know how I like you.”
Your heart kicked into overdrive, and you nodded, pushing yourself backwards with shaky legs, the weight of her gaze hammering into your chest. You laid down flat, spine arching as you positioned yourself exactly how you knew she wanted you: legs open, knees bent, arms above your head.
You were completely exposed for her, and your body ached for her hands and mouth, burning under their absence the longer she stood there, looming over you.
Shuri pressed her knee into the bed, climbing in after you, and settling between your legs like a puzzle piece. She ran a hand up your inner thigh, fingers wading through your drenched folds as her strap pressed hot and heavy against your entrance.
“Are you ready for me, sthandwa?” Her tone had dipped into something dangerous, rolling like thunder before the strike.
You were sooo fucking ready.
Shuri prodded at your clit with the tip of her strap, sliding the long member up and through your wetness, coating herself in your creamy release. She held your stare, her lips parting in sync with your own as she eased into you sweetly, bottoming out with the first thrust.
“Oh god–” You cried, your back arching off the bed as a wave of ecstasy washed through your system, coating every single one of your nerve endings.
She stretched you wide around her throbbing cock. It burned a little, but you reveled in the sting, and the entrancing sensation of being stuffed full. Her breath was hot and shaky against your skin, and you could feel the muscles in her back flex with restraint. She growled into your ear, sounding wrecked, as she leaned down to bury her face in the crook of your neck.
“Can I m-move?” She was sort of hoarse, voice gravelly and desperate.
She was barely holding it together, trembling inside your tight, dripping heat. It made your core clench around her just knowing she was this close to losing control. You smiled wickedly, turned on beyond belief by how undone she already was.
“Mhmm,” You whimpered, grazing your long nails languidly down her spine. “Take me, Panther.”
That was the only consent she needed as she pulled out for half a second, then rutted back into your depths with a guttural sigh. “Bast, you're so fucking tight, sthandwa.”
Her thrusts started out slower than you wanted, but you knew your Panther, and you knew this was just her warming you up. She was always gentle before she plundered your insides, giving you a false sense of security.
“You're stretching me so good with that big dick, Panther.”
Then, without warning, Shuri’s languid strokes turned rapid, unrelenting, and immobilizing. She was fucking you so deep, you felt her in your stomach, the pressure causing your eyes to roll back into your skull. Her thrusts were rhythmic, each slap of her skin against yours reverberating around her room. She kept her body flush to yours, nuzzling her head beneath your chin as she rocked into you.
Her mouth was right up against your ear when she growled, and you felt it more than you heard it. It was the most primal sound, rumbling out of her chest in the sexiest way. The sound shook you to your core.
Shuri wasn't just making love to you. She was claiming you—body, breath, and soul—staking her territory inside your cunt with every rigorous stroke.
“Mine,” She grunted between thrusts, her lips brushing a wet, open mouth kiss to your jaw. “You're mine, do you hear me?”
You couldn't speak, and you could barely think, the only thought bouncing around your brain being the desire to comply, to adhere to her every demand. Because yes, you were hers. You belonged to Shuri, wholeheartedly.
The way she filled you, the way she fucked you senseless was sensational. It birthed a sense of pride in your chest, knowing that you were the only one who witnessed this animalistic side of her, knowing that your pussy was the only thing to pull it out of her.
Your nails scraped down her back the deeper she tunneled, leaving angry, red marks in your wake, her supple skin splitting just enough to draw shallow lines of blood. And just as fast as they appeared, you watched in awe, as the scratches healed themselves, fading slowly beneath your fingertips like they were never there to begin with.
Her body practically purred with resilience, like it wanted to be torn apart and rebuilt just to keep going for you.
Shuri pushed up on her arms, sweat dripping down her temples, her biceps caging you in as her golden Panther necklace swung forward with every dive into your creamy walls, splashing your wetness.
This was your favorite part.
When she fixed her eyes on yours, their rich brown shade no longer recognizable. They were focused—ravenous as she plowed your pussy.
She was panting, snapping her hips forward with brutal force. “You like when I take what’s mine?”
“Yes, Panther,” You moaned, strangling the member she had buried inside you with your clenching hole. “Take this pussy, baby!”
Shuri’s mouth hovered a breath above yours, warm air kissing your already sizzling skin. “You feel how deep I am?”
“Ooh, fuck… Panther.” You twitched under her, your clit jumping as she pressed into you. “So deep…”
You moaned her name again and again, unable to hold back your broken whines. The way she controlled each of your breaths with her skillful thrusts was driving you closer and closer to the edge. You were clawing at her back, the sheets, practically anything you could get your hands on as she fucked you stupid, your doe eyes welling with euphoric tears.
Shuri pulled one of your hard nipples between her lips, nibbling on the bud, watching your face contort. All the while she drilled you still, stretching your messy pussy with her oversized length. She lifted your leg, throwing it over her shoulder in one swift motion so she could dig further, harder, faster, knocking into your g-spot like your wails were her prize for fucking you so well.
“T-Too deep,” You cried, struggling to bar her thrusts that just kept coming. “T-Too m-much.”
Shuri wasn't having it. “Move your hand.” She slapped your fingers away immediately, her voice turning stern. “I decide when it's too much. Now be the good girl I know that you are, and take me, yes?”
“Yes, P-Panther.”
She hadn't stopped. You didn't think she ever would, not that you'd wanted her to. You were too far gone to care, high in the clouds as you waited for the impending rush of pleasure to whisk you away. Your throat was raw from all the screaming, lips shining with spit—yours, hers—you didn't know. Didn't care.
You just wanted to come. And you would lay there, let her wreck you until she decided you'd earned your release. You wanted to please her, let her use your body however she saw fit, and then she–
…Pulled out? She pulled out. Sharp and sudden, the emptiness making you whine, your body trembling and aching from the sudden absence.
“Flip over,” Shuri growled as she stroked her slippery member in her fist. Then she spit on the head, lathering her saliva with your juices that already existed there.
You licked your lips, eyes transfixed by her actions, and you found yourself daydreaming, wanting to deep throat her dick once more, just so you could taste yourself all over her.
But Shuri snapped her finger, breaking your trance. “On your stomach. Ngoku.” (now.)
You obeyed immediately, heart pounding, heat flashing through your veins like fire. You turned over, sensitive nipples rubbing against the cool sheets, your ass arching up for her on command. The air hit your soaked cunt, and you whimpered from the exposure.
Fuck, you were so needy.
Behind you, you heard her moaning as she squeezed her strap, moving in closer to position herself back at your greedy entrance. Shuri slapped it against your ass once. Twice. Then she smoothed it through your folds, gliding into you moments later, and you screeched.
•••
“Take it, sthandwa…” Shuri grunted from behind you, dragging her strap in and out of your soaked, overstimulated cunt. “All of it, beautiful. That's it, doing s-so well.”
You couldn’t respond, not with words anyway. Your eyes were blown wide, unfocused, your hair tangled and damp against your cheeks. Drool pooled from the corner of your mouth, stringing down onto her pillow as your face pressed deeper into the plush cotton. The fabric stuck to your skin, warm and wet from spit and sweat, muffling your broken cries as Shuri rocked into you with relentless precision.
You were gone, floating somewhere between pain and pleasure, conscious thought long behind you. Each thrust shook through your entire body, your arms limp, your knees barely holding beneath you. Her strap had doubled in size sometime in the last ten minutes—a feature Shuri had conveniently forgotten to mention—and now it filled you past your limit. You were spent. Ruined—by the only person you would allow.
“Bast, you're squeezing me so good.” Her fingers were bruising as they indented your hips, and she pulled your ass back onto her cock again and again. The angle was brutal and perfect at the same time, hitting that buried bundle of nerves with each thrust like she’d mapped your body. “I’m so proud of you, I knew you could take me… no matter how big.”
You couldn't see, your vision blurred white at the edges. You could only feel. Every pulse of her strap, every time it twitched inside you. Every wet slap of her hips against your ass. And you could hear. You listened to the obscene, sopping wet sounds of Shuri fucking your cum right back into your heat with her oversized member.
You’d taken thick before. You knew girth. But this?
This was something otherworldly.
It hurt, but it felt too good for you to want her to stop. So you let her keep fucking you, stretching you wider as your creamy pussy swallowed every single inch of her dick.
“Keep fucking me like that, Panther,” You managed to breathe out. The words were muffled by the wet sheets underneath you, but you knew she'd heard you.
“Like this?”
“Yesssss… use my p-pussy. Fuck me… pleeease!”
“You know I love when you beg for me like that. Bast, look at you. You're so desperate for it, aren't you?”
You nodded against the pillows, “Mhmm! Slut me out, Panther.”
Your words excited her, and her thrusts picked up, becoming impossibly faster, like she was chasing something feral within herself. Your breasts jolted forward, as she continued her brutal rhythm, making your cunt cry for more. You were already trembling, already on the edge, and she knew it, that’s what made her more determined.
Your legs were jelly beneath you, shaking from effort, overstimulation twisting every nerve raw. You could feel her behind you, chest heaving, hot breath hitting your back in staccato bursts between every ragged moan. Shuri was a mess, whining and growling, saying your name like it was the only thing she could form.
The bed creaked beneath you both, loud and angry, screaming in protest with every movement. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall, the impact shaking the entire frame and leaving a growing dent in the drywall, but neither of you cared. Not even a little.
You reached up to grip the headboard, desperate for something to ground you, anything to relieve the pressure building in your depths, but it only amplified it. Your thighs quaked. Your breath hitched, and it felt like you were splitting in two around her throbbing dick.
“W-wait–” You cried out, though you didn’t even know if you meant it.
But Shuri didn't stop.
“Wait for what?” She panted, her words coated in lust. She punctuated her sentence with a long, deliberate stroke that made you sob into the pillow. “Surely you don’t want me to stop, sthandwa?”
Her hand slid around your hip, guiding you back onto her cock with even more force.
“You’re strong enough to take all of me, right?” She cooed, in that cruelly sweet tone that made your walls flutter around her. “You’ve been doing so, so good. I know you can adjust to my size. Do it for me, won’t you, pretty? Just… until I come.”
You couldn’t disobey her. Not when she spoke to you like that. Not when your body belonged to her this completely.
So you held on. You took it. You let her pound you with thrusts so punishing they made your eyes water as you choked on your bubbling spit. Your nerves were sparking. Your mind was unraveling. Your body was sore all over, clenching, pulsing, burning for relief, and when she bottomed out, you clenched around her involuntarily.
That sparked a flare inside her.
Behind you, you heard her choke on a moan as her rhythm faltered. “F-fuck… just like—oh, squeeze me just like that sthandwa, I’m going to–”
“Do it inside m-me, Panther,” You moaned, begging her to finish within you, needing to feel the warmth of her seed to send yourself over the edge.
And she did.
Shuri pumped one last forceful thrust back into you. Deep. Final. Filling. And she cried out your name, allowing her strap to spit her cum into your accepting hole. She held herself buried inside you as her orgasm swallowed her up, just rutting and twitching in pleasure.
The warmth of her cum drizzling into you catapulted you into your own climax, and it struck your system like lightning. Your vision was completely shattered as your cunt heaved around her, milking her through her bone rattling rapture.
The two of you were a chorus of moans, cries and gasps as your bodies succumbed to pure bliss. You were lost in it, riding it out together.
Even as the tension drained from your limbs, even as your breath slowed, Shuri kept moving inside of you, fucking you through it all the while, and you refused to stop her. Luckily, her movements were more tender now, all loving and docile.
She was worshipping your hole with her strap, making sure both sets of cum—hers and your own—stayed painted on your overused walls.
Finally, she stilled, chest pressed to your back, her lips brushing against your spine in a silent thank-you. She eased her cum-cover strap out of you, careful not to be too harsh, and you sighed at the emptiness.
“I–” She began to say something…
But was cut off by a loud CRACK!
The bed gave a final groan and then collapsed, the legs buckling, the frame slamming into the floor with a heavy crash that knocked the wind out of both of you.
For a beat, there was silence.
But then, you couldn't hold your laughter any longer.
You both dissolved into it, tangled up in each other, surrounded by ruined sheets, splintered wood, and the wreckage of everything you’d just survived.
She rolled onto her side, breathless, but still smiling. “This bed was made of pure Vibranium, you know.”
“So?”
She chuckled beside you, shaking her head. “So… it was supposed to be indestructible. Clearly, I severely underestimated your strength, sthandwa.”
“Uh-uh, don't try to blame me,” You scolded, amusement guiding your words. “You was the one damn near throwing my soul through the wall just now, I don't know what you thought was gonna happen.”
Shuri just smirked, eyes twinkling up at you, “Totally worth it.”
summary: your week with riri had been a whirlwind—all fire and friction—more intense than you could've ever imagined. but could you survive a weekend away with her?
word count: looong (get comfy)
contents: slight smut (18+), fluff, riri & reader being all cutesy, hakeem still oblivious (bless his heart), jealous!riri, protective!riri
note: hi frens! this chapter is quite thick, so grab a snack and get comfy. i had fun writing this one, particularly because of how it ended, and how messy the mext chapter is gonna be. i hope youse enjoy! mwah, mwah!! xx.
↬ series masterlist
Riri Williams could destroy you.
With her words. Her mouth. Her tongue.
She could ruin you with her branding hands. And with fingers that made a home inside your warm walls.
Riri Williams could destroy you, and if this past week were to serve as testament, you were more than willing to permit your own demise. Her kisses were compelling like that. Her touch, even more so. She had a way of pulling you into her gravity, making the world tilt until there was nothing but her lips pressed right against your teeth.
Truthfully, you'd lost count of the number of times Riri’s mouth had found yours over the past eight days, but you’d never forget the intensity of each collision. Every kiss was fiercer than the last—more dizzying, more desperate—each laced with something you couldn’t name, but were terrified to let go of.
And they happened everywhere.
In the stairwell after class, her fingers tugging at your hoodie like she’d die if she went a second longer without tasting you. In the back of her car, with the windows fogged up, where she’d bite your bottom lip, making you whimper into the taste of her lip gloss. She was feral, just as insatiable as you. Maybe even more so, you’d realized, because not even public settings seemed to deter her.
It was risky, the way she had leaned in too close in the library, and pressed her soft lips up against your ear in a hushed whisper, palms resting too high on your thigh. You hadn't pushed her away though, hadn't denied her there in the open, and she knew you wouldn't.
Because you didn't want to.
Every moment spent with her felt like an awakening. You hadn't known you’d only been existing, not living, until her, until she touched you in her car that night, and cracked open something that was buried deep inside. Feelings you didn't think could ever be real, sensations that stirred every cell in your body. A mere brush of her hand against your waist alone carried more weight than hours spent with Hakeem. And when she left, the heat of her frame pressed into yours lingered, a phantom ache that made you want to chase after her.
Riri made you feel everything all at once, and her touches made you believe she was stripping away every lie you told yourself.
But of course, that ecstasy wouldn't last forever. Because the guilt always found you, even when you thought Riri’s embrace would thwart it off.
Every time she left you, you were assaulted with the shame of what you two were doing, mortification barreling into your chest like a brick. You’d tried to fight it, the inferno that ignited every time she was in your presence, tried to douse it by convincing yourself the feelings weren't real. You didn't feel that way about her. You couldn't feel that way about her. But, evidently, the denial didn't stick. And you still went home to Hakeem after every heated rendezvous with his best friend. You still smiled and played your part, and pretended as if you weren’t walking around with Riri’s fingerprints etched into your skin.
Sometimes it made you feel like you were splitting in half—the version of you that belonged to him, and the version that came alive under her. And yet, no matter how much you told yourself to slow down, to stop, to breathe—the truth was simple, you couldn’t wait for the next time her lips would meet yours, and her fingers would slip into your soaked panties.
You forced the thoughts away, snapping yourself back into the present before the weight of it—Hakeem, the lies, the shame of wanting her at all—crushed you completely, deciding to put all your focus into your computer screen, and the powerpoint presentation staring back at you.
You tapped your pen against the desk in time with the cursor blinking on your laptop, staring at the notes and graphs covering your screen, and the slides that were still half-finished. You were in full work mode, hunched over, laser-focused. Or at least you were trying to be, until your mind began to drift to your sins committed with the gorgeous girl sprawled out on your bed like she owned it.
Riri looked mighty comfortable in your sheets, one arm tucked behind her head, the other lazily scrolling her phone. Her laptop sat closed beside her, untouched for at least the last thirty minutes. Unlike you, the genius engineer couldn't really seem to be bothered with the power point, insisting that the DeltaLab Symposium wasn't really a big deal.
Maybe it wasn't to her, but to you, the money you could receive was one more ticket out, one that kept you far away from home.
You glanced back at her and rolled your eyes, ignoring the flutters in your stomach at the sight of her just lounging in your bed, like she belonged there.
“You know,” She started, her voice smooth and taunting, “we could be doing something way more fun right now.”
“Uh-huh,” You muttered without looking up, scribbling a line of calculations into your notebook, already knowing what she was suggesting.
“I’m serious.” She tossed her phone aside, rolling onto her stomach now, chin propped in her hand as she watched you like you were her entertainment. “Here I am, waiting for you to stop acting like this symposium is the end of the world. Meanwhile, your lips look bored as hell without me.”
You shot her a look over your shoulder, the corners of your mouth twitching despite yourself. “My lips are busy. With work. Something you should be doing too, by the way, unless you want us to literally crash and burn this weekend.”
Riri snorted, turning off of her stomach so that she was sitting up now, at the edge of the bed. “Please. I can freestyle half this shit in my sleep. All those rich assholes are gonna love me, and Ima win you all the scholarship money in the world.”
“Cocky much?” You rolled your eyes and turned back to your screen.
“I ain't cocky, just… extremely confident,” She corrected, grinning. “And I won't even ask for much from you in return–” She trailed off as she slid off the bed and padded over to you, leaning her weight onto the back of your chair until her lips were brushing the shell of your ear. “Just a kiss… but not on your mouth.”
You stiffened, biting back a moan when her breath skimmed your face, “Riri…” You warned, pushing her shoulder gently but firmly, “Presentation. Focus.”
She clicked her tongue, pulling back with a mock scowl, “Ion like how you be shooting me down. It's mean, and you're no fun.”
“I think you’ll live.”
“I might not,” She muttered dramatically, dragging herself back to the bed and flopping onto it with a groan. “Deprivation. Neglect. Both valid causes of death for somebody who desperately needs attention.”
You shook your head, smirking despite your best efforts. This was how it had been all week, her needling you, pushing just enough to make you fluster, then sulking when you didn’t bend. And you? You tried to ignore her antics, keep your head down, stay productive. But the truth was, she’d already made herself the center of your universe without even trying.
You knew you couldn't resist her for long, but you pretended to focus on the slide you were working on anyway, blinking away the flashes of her hot mouth and slick tongue just as fast as they appeared behind your lids. This was good. This was safe. Sitting at your desk, fingers tapping at your keyboard, eyes locked on the same bullet point you’d read five times and still couldn’t process. This was good. This was safe.
You repeated the wobbly lie, trying to turn it steady. If you stayed seated, if you stayed busy, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you weren't crossing any lines. This was just… homework. If she stayed on the bed, and you stayed at your desk, there would be no physical contact, and that burning desire in your chest would fade away. Right?
“So, about this weekend, what's the plan? Like what time are we leaving and stuff?” Riri asked, her voice cutting through your thoughts.
You blinked, grateful for the distraction, though still somewhat annoyed by her question. “Friday. We already discussed this like five times, Ri. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can check into the hotel and actually have time to breathe before the symposium starts.”
“Ohh, right…” Riri’s grin was audible in her voice. “My bad. Guess I forgot, you know with all the… activities we been up to and shit.”
You didn’t need to look at her to know she had her eyes on you, probably smirking as she watched for the way her words would get under your skin. Heat crept up your neck as flashes of your limbs, hers—tangled in sheets, tried to wedge their way into your mind. You rolled your eyes hard, like it would physically knock the images out of your head.
You sighed, “Riri–”
“You know I like the way my name sound coming out your mouth, ma.”
“Riri.” Your voice sharpened, the edge of a scolding tucked into it, but she didn’t flinch.
You could hear the smirk in her voice when she responded, all smooth, and seduction soaked, “Mhmm. Just like that.”
Your skin prickled as a surge of heat traveled up your neck, burning your ears and your face. God, she was fucking impossible. How was it that she could take a single word—her own name—and transform it into something so filthy? The act made your pulse sprint. You should be mad at her, you wanted to be mad at her, for not taking this as seriously as you were, for not having as much to lose as you did if this all failed.
But, as always, something else beat out the irritation buzzing beneath your pulse, that steady thrum of want you'd grown embarrassingly fond of. It disgusted you how quickly it rose to the surface. How easily she pulled it out of you with nothing more than a grin and a tone that curled around your spine.
You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the ache pooling in your stomach. Guilt pressed against your ribs, but it didn't extinguish the fire—the voice in your head was louder than ever in this present moment, amplifying how hot and bothered you were by Riri’s words.
“You know I like the way my name sound coming out your mouth, ma.”
There was no use even pretending to focus on your work now. Defeated, you let your hands fall away from your keyboard, pressing your palms against your thighs like grounding yourself could somehow stop her likeness from coating every corner of your mind. But she was already there, rent free as always, saturating the entire space.
And you were powerless against it.
With a resigned breath, you turned to fully face her for the first time since fleeing to your desk, and the sight only made things worse. Just as you’d suspected, she was already smirking, her phone abandoned at her side as all her attention locked onto your flushed face. Her arms were folded across her chest, the hem of her cropped shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of toned abs and the waistband of her briefs. She looked good. The kind of good that made your teeth graze your bottom lip before you could stop yourself. And of course, she noticed.
“You checking me out, ma?” She asked, smug as ever, her eyes glittering like she’d been waiting to catch yours.
You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend your insides didn't twist and tingle every time she called you ma as you tried to regain the upper hand. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
She wasn't buying the act and you knew it, yet still, you chose to maintain your stern tone. “Can you please take this seriously, Ri?”
“Who said I wasn't–”
You cut her off, “This is important. For the both of us. If we fuck this up we’ll regret it later. I’ll regret it.”
Her teasing grin softened at the edges, but her eyes were still dancing, not nearly as repentant as her next words tried to be. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” She pushed herself upright, resting her back against the headboard now, her tone dipping into seriousness, “So, who's all going from our class anyway?”
You sighed, dragging her name through your teeth. “Riri, did you even read the email Dr. Lucas sent us like two weeks ago?”
She hesitated, lips twitching. “I might’ve… skimmed it a lil bit.”
You blinked at her, dumbfounded, torn between laughing or shaking her until her eyes popped. But before you could decide, she cracked first, bursting out in laughter, the sound bubbling up warm and rich, infecting the air between you. Her giggles chipped away at your frustration, tugged at the corners of your lips until your resolve splintered.
Still, you couldn't let her get off that easily.
You pushed back from your desk and crossed the room, snatching up a pillow to swing down on her legs. “It’s not funny, Ri!”
“It’s kinda funny.” She wheezed, trying and failing to shield herself as you landed soft, harmless blows.
Your own laugh slipped out against your will, dissolving the last of your irritation. But you didn’t stop, your words came with the playful jabs, a joking cadence wrapped around the truth. “If I land one of these scholarships, that’s grad school covered, debt free. Same goes for you. It’s free money, Ri.”
The pillow froze in your hands as your voice thinned, the words falling heavier than you intended. “It’s… it’s also just another way to stay away from home.”
The admission slipped out before you could trap it. Too raw. Too exposed.
Riri’s laughter quieted in an instant, and she shifted, sitting up. Her chocolate orbs melted in that way that made them impossible to dodge, like she knew. You hadn't told her everything about your mother, bits here and there, but it was enough for her to understand. Enough for her to be angry for you, despite the lack of details.
And it was comforting in a way.
Shame trampled you then, pressing down on your airway until each of your breaths felt stolen. It wasn't about your mother, not entirely—it was about yourself. About what you were doing with Riri, what you wanted with her, the closeness the two of you had built in just a week. She knew your torment because you’d let her in too deep. You let her glimpse the fractures of your home life, bestowed her knowledge not even Hakeem held.
She had become the place you ran to when everything got to be too much. And it was wrong. It was disgraceful. Disgusting. Unnatural. You could practically hear your mother’s voice hissing it, poisoning every corner of your head with her venomous testimony.
And you were so buried in your muddled mind, you hadn't felt Riri reach for you. Hadn't felt her pulling you near until your knees were suddenly bracing her thighs on each side, her warm hands catching your wrists as she pulled you into her atmosphere. She didn't press for more, didn't tease. She just held you steady, serving as your anchor.
“Look at me, pretty.” She hummed.
And you did. You always did when she asked.
“I gotchu,” Riri murmured, soft as smoke, lifting your knuckles to her mouth, breathing gentle kisses into your skin. The soft yellow glow of your desk lamp painted her face in candied light, shadows flickering over her lashes as she lingered there. The warmth of the kiss unraveled you—burning away the shame, your mother's voice, her poison—until all that was left was the girl that didn't belong to you.
“I’m sorry. For real this time.” Her voice poured through you like warm honey, sweet and velvety, coating your nerves, causing your breath to catch in your throat when you inhaled. She took your other hand, brushing her lips across those knuckles too, and your chest cracked open at the tenderness.
“This is important to me too,” She said, her voice firmer now, rooted. “I’ma stop fucking around, okay?”
“Okay…” You whispered, dazed and undone by the gentleness in her eyes, the way she looked at you like you were everything.
She smirked then, breaking the weight of the moment, tugging her laptop into her lap. “Now lemme see what this presentation is talking bout.”
Relief made your laugh shaky, and you got up to retrieve your own computer from your desk. “Good, cause we got a lot of fine tuning to do!”
You joined her back on your mattress, grateful for the return of normalcy, even if your insides were still molten.
And for once, she didn't argue.
•••
It was late when you finally shut your laptop, your fingers stiff and aching from hours of typing. Data points and graphs still flickered behind your eyelids every time you blinked, burned there like afterimages. The dull throb in your temples reminded you just how long you’d been at it, and every part of your body begged for rest. Somehow, you’d ended up planted at your desk again, chasing productivity in the one place where you could resist the temptation of wandering hands and a hungry mouth. At your desk, there were no distractions. At your desk, there was no Riri.
Riri on the other hand, had never left your bed. She was sprawled across your mattress, half-buried under your comforter with her socks and sweats kicked off. The scent of her cocoa butter lotion lingered in the air, mingling with the pine candle burning low on your dresser, the aromas seeming to lull her. She looked content as she was nodding off, like spending the night had always been her plan.
When you finally dragged yourself from your chair and shuffled toward the bed, Riri stirred immediately. She propped herself up on one elbow, a slow grin spreading across her face. Without a word, she flipped back the blanket in invitation, the soft lamp glow catching the curve of her smirk—eager, expectant, ready for you to climb in beside her.
“C’mere,” She muttered, like you were hers to summon. And you went, sinking down beside her, letting her warmth fold around you.
Maybe you would let her stay, let her hold you tight through the night.
Her arm draped across your waist. Her chin found your shoulder, and the second your cheek brushed against hers, the rigidity in your chest slackened, like she’d snatched your exhaustion away without you even needing to ask. She kissed your temple absentmindedly, then again, softer, until the pattern turned wilful, and you sighed into each peck, completely relaxed.
“You know,” Riri started, whispering against your hairline as her arm cinched you closer, “This gon be our first weekend away together. Could be kinda romantic.”
A soft laugh escaped you, the sound a bit muffled. Of course that’s how she’d frame it. “We're going to a nerd convention, Ri, not a resort. And probably sharing a room with classmates we barely know. That ain't exactly my idea of a romantic getaway.”
Her laugh came low, a husky sound that you felt rumble through her chest. “All I’m hearing is we gon be alone together for three nights.”
You tipped your head back just enough to meet her eyes, arching a brow. “Conveniently leaving out the part where we’ll be with other people.”
Riri groaned deep in her throat, dragging it out like a complaint and a tease all at once. “I’m sure they won’t be in the room the whole time,” She countered with a grin, lips already grazing the slope of your neck. “We’ll get some time to ourselves.”
The words made your heart rate spike, even more so when her mouth trailed warm, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You giggled, helpless, your nerves buzzing so loud you swore she could hear them. Spinning in her hold, you finally faced her head-on, your lip caught between your teeth as you tried to steady yourself against the gravity of her gaze.
“Time to ourselves to do what?” Your voice was hushed as you asked the question, innocent, and a little terrified by what her answer would be, even though you could already guess.
Riri tilted her head, eyes gleaming with a wonder that made your heart ache. She looked at you like you were brand new, like every word spoken had been unheard of prior to falling from your lips. Her stare was relentless, pinning you in place, stripping away every excuse, and every lie you’d told yourself about what this was.
When she finally spoke, her voice was airy, as if it cost her to breathe, “I’ll tell you…” She leaned closer, brushing a feather-light kiss to one cheek, then the other as you inhaled her, the heady aroma of her cologne and cocoa butter strangling your lungs. “Better yet…”
Her lips hovered so close you felt the promise of them before the touch. “I’ll show you.”
Riri’s mouth claimed yours with a passion that made your head whirl, and it took nothing for you to kiss her back with identical fervor. Heat sparked in your bosom, radiating to every inch of your trembling body. You gasped into her, the sound swallowed by her lips as she angled your face just the way she needed with fingers threading through your fresh box braids.
Kisses from Riri were never polite, a fact you’d come to learn since that night on the porch. They were plunderous, and demanded your full surrender. Which you gave, and gave, and gave without protest.
And Riri took. She consumed. She devoured.
Her hand skimmed beneath your top, fingertips tracing slow patterns over your ribs. The touch made you shiver, your body betraying you as it melted for her. Her tongue coaxed a whine out of you, deepening the kiss until you were clutching her shirt like you were afraid she might vanish before your eyes. She tasted like mint, and something sweeter, a flavor you didn't want to stop chasing.
Every brush of her skin against yours amplified your arousal. The slide of her thigh nudging between yours, the way her nose bumped yours when she tilted her head, greedy for more of you. And when her hands snaked lower, dipping into your leggings to cup your ass, you didn't stop her, you welcomed the familiar sensation. You were chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat as Riri groped and felt her way around your soaked bottoms. You two were dead set on swallowing each other whole it seemed, neither of you desperate enough to come up for air.
That was, until Riri’s lips broke away from yours, and she gasped, but the separation only lasted for about a second. She planted a wet kiss at the corner of your mouth, then another along your jaw, causing you to jump in her arms when her teeth grazed the base of your throat, sharp and deliciously painful.
“Ri!” You warned through a shaky breath.
You felt her smirk stretch across your neck, and she exhaled, warm breath sizzling against your skin, before dragging her tongue slowly up the column of your throat.
“I know, I know. No hickies.” She murmured, voice low and teasing, then added with a husky laugh, “I can be good… even though I don’t wanna be.”
All you could do was writhe beneath her touch as her hands continued to wander your body intentionally, tiptoeing closer to where you needed her most. Your leggings clung uncomfortably to your overheated skin, damp and suffocating, every shift of your hips reminding you just how badly you wanted them gone, wanted her to tear them off, to put an end to the torment. But Riri, wicked and patient, purposely prolonged the inevitable, savoring your squirming as though your desperation was the very thing she craved.
You let a whine escape you, kicking your feet a little in defiance. “Ri…”
Her eyes roamed your face with a silent intensity, as if she were engraving every detail into memory—the frantic rise and fall of your chest, the damp sheen at your hairline where your edges had already surrendered to sweat, all before she’d even truly laid hands on you. You’d caught her doing this more than once, watching you unravel, cataloging the frenzy. The way her gaze darkened, made it clear, it wasn’t just about touching you, it was about devouring every reaction, every tremor in her pursuit of your pleasure. And God, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.
“What I tell you about saying my name like that?” Riri hummed, suddenly shifting her weight and rolling you onto your back. In an instant, she was above you, her shadow spilling over your face. It was one of the rare moments where the balance between the pair of you flipped, where you had to tilt your chin up to meet her gaze instead of the other way around.
Her eyes blazed, hungry and unflinching. “You know what that shit does to me.”
There it was again, that stroke of wonder in her gaze, bright and unmistakable, painting over her features and the grin playing on her lips. She knew exactly what you wanted, knew you weren’t going to hide behind modesty or excuses this time. And still, she had no intention of being merciful.
“Then do something about it,” You whined, the words slipping out, shocking both her and yourself.
Her brows twitched, and her grin widened into something slow and wolffish; she was pleased; entertained by your demand. She propped her hands on either side of your head, palms pressing into your pillows as she lowered herself until her face hovered just above yours, her breath spilling warm against your mouth. “Ask nicely.”
The words buzzed against your skin before her lips trailed lower, scattering featherlight pecks down the sensitive crook of your neck. Every kiss was deliberate, designed to strangle your voice before you could find it.
But, you tried anyway. “T-Touch me, Ri… please.”
Your plea cracked through her haze, and you swore you felt Riri's entire body jerk. She froze for a half-beat, inhaling sharp like your words had struck a chord deep within. And then it settled in her bones, the same way it always did. Because no matter how many times she'd made you beg for her, it still undid her. Every single time she actually heard you do it.
“Is this where you want me to touch you, baby?” She whispered her question directly in your ear, suckling delicately on your lobe. “Hmm?”
You bobbed your head, choking a little when you felt her digits toying with the waistband of your leggings. Finally, you thought, she was going to take the pain away, make the throbbing at your core stop. Her hand dipped lower into your heat; stopped; hovered. And then…
“That wasn't an answer.” Riri scolded, threatening to slide her hand completely out of your bottoms. “Words.”
It took everything in you not to let your eyes roll to the back of your skull in irritation. The action would only encourage her teasing, when all you wanted was for it to be over, and to be coming hard around her fingers. So you did as you were told.
Riri liked to be in charge, and you'd learned to play into that when you wanted to get your way. You let your eyes melt before hers, catching her gaze in that desperate, defeated way you knew she loved.
“Yes…” You breathed sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched her smirk above you, your voice cracking on the need laced into the words. “Touch me there, Ri… need you.”
Her sly smile deepened, like she’d been waiting all night to hear your voice dip that way. “Yeah,” She stated knowingly as one teasing finger slid down, dragging through your slick folds, spreading the sticky evidence of just how badly you wanted her. “I know you do.”
Air barely grazed the back of your throat before you felt two fingers enter you, already moving and stretching your walls despite the barrier your leggings created. Riri fucked her fingers into you, extracting them just long enough for you to miss them, before tunneling back in deep, causing a high pitched whine to escape you.
She was syncing her thrusts to the rhythm of your breathing. Every time the tips of her digits knocked against your g-spot, you’d blow out a gust of air, over and over. Your limbs were tingling, overwhelmed with pleasure so unrelenting, you felt like you were going to pop.
“Fuck…” You hissed, vision blurred.
Riri spat a string of curses under her breath before pulling her fingers from you completely, and the sudden emptiness nearly made you cry. She pushed up onto her knees, brows drawn in quiet frustration as her hands tugged impatiently at your tights. “Take this shit off.”
There was zero hesitation. You scrambled to obey, every nerve lit and trembling, desperate to have her back inside you again. The air kissed your bare pussy, and you watched Riri as she licked her lips, positioning herself between your sprawled legs, and her fingers back at your entrance.
But before she could glide them back into your awaiting hole, your body stiffened, ears perking up at the sound of voices out in your living room.
“...don't know… might be in her room.”
Talia.
Talia and somebody else.
The voices were a little muffled, but one baritone stood out to you almost instantly.
“I saw Riri’s car outside, think they working on a project.”
Hakeem.
Hakeem was here. Inside your apartment. Only a few feet away from your bedroom door that was—you glanced over to the knob—thankfully locked. And you were in bed, half naked with his best friend.
Your eyes snapped to Riri. Her face had gone pale, lips parted, frozen mid-motion. She looked how you felt, caught in the headlights of a disaster about to detonate.
Hakeem was here. Inside your apartment. At the same time she was just knuckle deep inside your vagina.
“Get dressed.” Riri’s voice was sharp, urgent, her body already moving as she snatched her sweats off the floor. You sat frozen for a beat too long, still reeling, but she whisper-shouted again, harsher this time, “Get up. Get dressed. Now!” Her arm shot out, tossing your leggings at you before she bolted into the bathroom, closing the door shut with a click that echoed like a gunshot.
The sound barely faded before there was a knock at your bedroom door.
“Ri? Baby girl?”
Your heart stopped when you heard the knob rattle.
“Uhh, y’all good?”
Fuck!
Your body jolted into action, adrenaline ripping through your veins like fire. You fumbled with your leggings, nearly tripping as you yanked them over your hips, fingers clumsy and trembling. Your pulse was deafening, pounding in your throat, in your ears, in every inch of your skin. Another knock made your hands shake harder as you scrambled for your scarf, tying it messily over edges you hadn’t even smoothed back down.
You sprinted to the door just as his knuckles rapped again, forcing yourself into a brittle smile before pulling it open.
“Hi, baby!” Your voice cracked high and sugary, a little too loud, a little too bright. You moved forward for a kiss, swallowing down the phantom taste of Riri still burning your tongue as he kissed you back, easy and unsuspecting.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, still breathless, forcing the grin wider.
Keem thumbed behind him at your roommate. “T was on her way up when I got here. She let me in.”
“Hi,” Talia mumbled with a nod, strolling past with a crinkling bag of Takis that definitely belonged to you. “Bye.”
You barely registered her exit to her room. Your stomach was still flipping violently, your body still thrumming from panic.
“Where’s Ri?” Keem asked, his tone unreadable.
“Bathroom,” You managed, voice clipped, heart beating so hard it hurt.
And in that moment, you were sure you might actually faint.
Hakeem made a face you couldn't discern, nose scrunching as his eyes surveyed his surroundings like he was looking for the thing he decided was out of place. And you stood frozen in front of him, arms locked tight behind your back, praying he wouldn’t ask to go into your room.
What the hell was taking Riri so long? Of course she’d leave you to deal with the fallout, like she always did. She’d stirred the storm with you, only to vanish, forcing you to drown in the aftermath.
“It’s hella late. Why she still here?” Keem's voice finally broke the air, rough and pointed, and it knocked you back a bit, giving away a hint of an emotion you could detect.
Jealousy.
Oh fuck… he was jealous.
“She, uh–” You cleared your throat, the sound grating and not at all subtle. “We were working on our presentation. Friday’s coming fast, and I need it all to be perfect.”
Not a complete lie. But it wasn't the full truth either.
And all the while, your eyes kept darting past your shoulder, frantic, praying for the sound of Riri’s footsteps to swoop in and save you from drowning in this moment alone.
Instead though, Hakeem hummed, unimpressed, as he wandered toward the couch. He dropped onto the cushions, legs spreading comfortably as if this were just another normal night. And your legs followed behind him automatically, the tension knot in your chest pulling tighter with every step.
The scent of garlic and soy sauce hit you as soon as you sat beside him, making you glance over at the counter. Take out bags from your favorite Chinese restaurant. He’d brought food. For you. All while you were engaging in obscene acts with his best friend who was currently hiding in your bathroom.
“Seems like you spending way more time with Riri than with me lately,” He said, casual on the surface, but you sensed the true weight lurking underneath his words.
For a moment you thought he knew, that somehow he could smell Riri on your skin. But the closer you looked, the sooner you realized—it was only loneliness disguised as suspicion. Just a boy missing his girl.
It hurt to see him like that.
You forced a smile, leaning into him, wrapping your arm through his. “Baby, you know how important this is for us. If we can get the right people interested in our research…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the message.
Hakeem exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging a little. “Yeah, I know. I just miss you.” He glanced down at you, eyes softening, and it almost broke you. Then he chuckled faintly, trying for lightness. “Honestly, I’m just surprised y’all getting along so well. I got used to the bickering.”
That's when the bathroom door clicked open, and your heart catapulted into your throat.
Riri strolled out as if she hadn’t just been drenched in you minutes before, calm, unbothered, almost relaxed, with her hands shoved in her pockets. You thought you might throw up from how loud your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, surprised Hakeem hadn’t heard it.
“Guess I finally realized she ain't that bad,” Riri confessed smoothly, chin jerking toward you. “And, she's smarter than you. You ain’t get me into the Deltalab symposium last semester, nigga.”
Hakeem’s laugh came out sarcastic and hollow. “Ha.”
Riri’s lips curved at the corners just a little, and you caught it, dipping your head as your cheeks blazed.
She stretched, the picture of ease, walking around the couch with her bag and hoodie in hand. “But, I think Ima call it a night, give y’all some alone time. I’m done stealing yo girl for the night.”
The words sliced through you.
She shot him a wink as she headed for the door, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Yeah, get the fuck on, nigga.”
“I’ll walk you out!” You offered, too quickly, too eager.
But she waved you off before either you or Hakeem could react to your sudden outburst, a grin tugging smug at her lips. “Nah, I’m good. See y’all later.”
And then she was gone, striding out the door with infuriating ease, leaving you aching in her absence already. It was maddening how she did that—held her mask in place, prevented it from slipping. All while you were left exposed, clutching the shattered pieces of your own.
The space she left behind seemed to echo, and you hadn't realized how long you had been staring at the empty doorway until Hakeem’s hand cupped your jaw, firm but gentle, guiding your gaze back to him.
“Hey.” And there he was. Dimples deep enough to swim in—to drown in. Skin rich and glowing, eyes like polished mahogany locked on yours. Beautiful. Breathtaking. The kind of man anyone would fall for. The kind of man you should want.
But you didn't. Not anymore.
He wasn't his best friend.
The guilt slammed into you, heavy and merciless. It burned a hole through your heart, like it always did each and every time she left, and you were alone with him. Hakeem's presence pressed closer as he leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple with a warmth you no longer deserved. He smoothed his hand up and down your thigh as a signal. You knew what he wanted. You should've melted into it, but all you could think about was the way Riri’s hands had been there first, how you could still feel her touch sparking your skin. Every ounce of tenderness Hakeem gave you was a reminder of how badly you wanted it from someone else.
You were betraying him, and the notion gutted you.
The smile you plastered on was so weak, it pained. “I’m so tired, baby. My brain hurts from all that thinking.”
Before his mouth got closer to yours, you blurted, “Can you give me a shoulder massage?”
Keem smiled, dimples deepening, and nodded without question, still unsuspecting.
The night ended in soft lamplight and takeout boxes. Hakeem’s breathing had evened out, and he was slumped back on your couch cushions not even twenty minutes into 12 Angry Men, the movie he picked out.
You stayed awake though, legs kicked up in his lap, eyes glued to the ceiling as the night's events pressed into you. The panic you’d felt still hadn’t drained from your body; it hummed under your skin, leaving you restless. You weren’t used to fear like that. It made you feel cornered in your own home. It left you questioning whether you could live with the constant threat of being found out, of the ground giving way beneath you.
Your phone ding on the coffee table, and you reached for it absentmindedly, reading the name and message plastered across the screen.
Riri: i’m somebody who likes to finish the things i start. and I intend to, next time with no interruptions.
Riri: tell yo nigga goodnight for me.
Overwhelm sat in your chest like stone, and you wondered if you were strong enough to hold this, or if eventually, it would crush you completely.
•••
Riri’s back was pinned against her own car, Zariyah kissing her like this was her first time tasting her, refusing to get enough. Her fingers clutched at Riri’s hoodie, like there wasn't enough space on the planet to satisfy the need between them. It was a mouth devouring, wet and hungry claiming—a marking of territory.
Zariyah’s territory. No one else's.
And Riri wasn’t resisting.
The scene was obscene, vulgar in a way that made your stomach churn. You wanted desperately to look away, but your eyes were betraying you. They stayed hooked on the way their mouths slid together, forcing you to notice a thin shine of spit catching in the sunlight. For a split second, it almost looked like Riri was enjoying it. Like she was lost in it.
Was she? That thought hurt too much to entertain.
Before, back when you believed Riri hated you, when she swore she wanted nothing to do with you, you would've ignored the sight, and the feelings it would've stirred. You would've moved on, decided that it wasn't your business. But you hadn't kissed her then. She hadn't yet tilted your world on its axis with mere words, and fingers.
It wasn't personal. Not like now.
Watching Zariyah kiss Riri in that way scraped at your chest from the inside, leaving you sore all over. Because it wasn’t just Riri with her girlfriend anymore, it was Riri with someone who wasn’t you. It was Riri letting someone else touch what you’d been tasting, someone else biting at lips you’d committed to memory. Your jealousy came hot and fast, ripping through your stomach, scorching your lungs and throat. Even though you stood there, stiff as wood, silent, watching—every fiber of your being had been shrieking. It was so deafening you thought your eardrums would burst.
And that bellowing voice tangled with another—one that hissed about your place, and the role Riri had to uphold, along with all of the other nuances that came with the situation the two of you had designed for yourselves.
You still couldn't look away though, despite knowing all that you did.
You should’ve turned your head. Should’ve glued your eyes to the pavement. But there was something enthralling about it, watching someone want her that bad, watching her receive it.
Beside you, Hakeem was just as still, just as transfixed with his head cocked slightly, brows raised like he was watching a car crash unfold in real time. Neither of you spoke, you just watched, bewildered.
“It’s like she’s trying to ingest her…” You mumbled under your breath, the words slipping free before you could pull them back.
“I know right,” He huffed out a laugh, still staring. “And Riri ain’t that big either, won’t take much for Riy to just swallow her.”
Despite the way your stomach burned, a laugh bubbled up. You tilted your head, mimicking his angle, the two of you standing there like unwilling spectators, curious, baffled, and a little horrified.
When the kiss finally broke with a wet, lewd pop, Zariyah leaned in close to whisper against Riri’s lips, her quiet voice carrying just far enough to reach your ears. “Just something to think about while you’re away this weekend. So you know what’s waiting for you when you get back.”
Riri smirked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, the visual rocketing the organ in your sternum, like it wasn't already in overdrive.
“You acting like she finna go off to war,” Hakeem cut in, shaking his head. “She coming back.”
Zariyah pulled away from Riri just far enough to flip him off, middle finger raised high without missing a beat. The shorter girl chuckled under her breath, letting you know she was enjoying the performance way more than she let on.
That was your cue to turn towards your boyfriend. You plastered on a smile that you hoped looked more natural than it felt, pushing onto your toes as you eyed him. “Can I get one of those?” You hummed jokingly, forcing yourself to make light of the make out session that almost just stopped your heart.
Hakeem chuckled low in his chest, that signature laugh that made you melt… once upon a time. “Pretty sure if I kissed you like that it would be considered assault.”
“Not if I’m into it.” You countered with an exaggerated giggle, making sure to keep your tone a decibel above a whisper, loud enough for listening ears to hear.
He bit his bottom lip before his left arm jerked you nearer, diamond earrings and dimples working overtime to subdue you.
And maybe it worked.
Because when he clasped your face in his oversized palm, and pressed his lips to yours with such familiar care, you didn't flinch, you didn't recoil from his touch. You kissed him back, for real this time, pretending like you hadn't felt the knife in your heart twist deeper, angled only beats away from your beloved coronary.
He grinned against your mouth, dimples carving deep into his cheeks, and you broke away with a breathy giggle, the sound brighter than you expected. You did most of it as a performance, angled more for the benefit of the girl in the red car than the boy in front of you. But, you supposed authenticity was behind it.
“I’m bummed I can’t make it Monday to see your presentation,” He admitted, his grin softening into something apologetic. “Got that calc test. Been stressing me all week.”
You tilted your head, feigning disappointment but smoothing it over with understanding. “Baby, it's okay. I prefer you here, acing your test.”
“Promise you not mad?” He pouted, putting in extra effort to poke out his bottom lip.
You shook your head, gifting him a gentle smile. “I promise I’m not mad.” If anything you were relieved.
He squeezed your hip reassuringly. “You're gonna kill it. I know it.” Then he folded you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and just as he tilted his face back down for another kiss on the lips–
Honk!
The blare of a horn bounced through the lot, jolting you both apart. You snapped your head toward the sound, already knowing who you would find on the other end of it. Riri sat behind the wheel, one hand draped across it, her face tight and twitching. The car’s red paint gleamed beneath the sun, sharp edges catching the light as you squinted in her direction. She leaned on the horn again, longer this time, her gaze locked on you through her driver's side mirror.
A grin tugged at your lips, smug and traitorous.
“Okay, hurry up,” She called, her voice slicing across the distance. “Y’all can gaze into each other’s eyes later. I’m tryna beat traffic.” Another honk followed, like a punctuation to her demand.
You and Hakeem scoffed in unison. He grabbed your bags with a laugh, shaking his head as the two of you began moving toward the car. “Wasn’t you just tonguing down yo girl two seconds ago? And now you rushing us?” His words were playful, but you knew his tone well enough to detect the smallest hint of irritation.
He carried your bags to the trunk, dropping them in with a heavy thud, the sound echoing in your chest.
Keem rounded to the passenger side, opening the door for you with the same easy habit as always. He bent at the waist, resting his chin on his folded arms, head poking into the car. His eyes narrowed, but mischief still shimmered there, dimples deepening as he tilted his head.
“Well, evidently you ain’t me,” Riri muttered smoothly from the driver’s seat. Her tone was cool as glass, but you watched the way her knuckles flexed against the wheel. She was sizzling on the inside, and only you knew it. Zariyah was already halfway to her own car, waving lazily, not bothering to look back, leaving you alone with the two of them.
You bit down on your smile, turning toward Hakeem to study him. There was something about the rush, the thrill of being caught between them. Two people, both pulling you in different directions, both wanting you in their own ways. It was dangerous. It was wrong on levels you couldn't even begin to name. But the tension, and the adrenaline were too rich to ignore. Too tempting not to bask in. So you did just that.
Keem conceded first, like he always did in their subconscious rivalry for your hand. He shook his head with a crooked grin. “Just… take care of my girl, okay? You know how important she is to me.”
“Oh, trust,” Riri’s eyes slid to yours, dark and gleaming. She smirked, then turned her focus to the boy hanging into her window. “Ima take good care of her.”
You nearly choked on your spit. Her words stifled the air life fog, lingering longer than you wanted them to. It was becoming hard to swallow, hard to breathe as you sat there suffocating under the implication of Riri’s declaration.
Then, without missing a beat, Riri leaned back casually, lips quirking higher. “She's kinda holding my entire academic future in her hands with this presentation. Gotta make sure she’s at a hundred percent, right?”
“Facts…” Hakeem’s gaze flicked between you two, curiosity circling his irises, but he let it drop. He leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your lips, this time with more force than before. It lasted longer than you expected, longer than you wanted it to with Riri sitting right beside you. But you couldn't pull away now, so you let yourself melt into it until he withdrew his mouth from yours. “Good luck, baby girl. See you Monday night.”
Beside you, Riri radiated heat, her irritation palpable, her jaw tight as she stared straight ahead.
“Good luck, Ri,” Keem added, forcing a smile. “I know y’all are gonna kill it.”
“Thanks,” She mumbled, dry and flat. “Doubt I’ll need it though.”
Keem’s smile twitched as he rolled his eyes. “I said good luck, damn. Can’t stand yo lil ass.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Riri chimed, “Now can you back up so we can get going?”
Their banter should’ve lightened the moment, but your stomach was still twisting, your heart climbing up your throat. As Riri pulled off, you settled into the seat, glancing out the window as the silhouette of your boyfriend shrank behind you.
You didn’t know what the weekend would hold, but as the hum of Riri’s engine filled your ears, you welcomed the uncertainty.
•••
The highway stretched ahead of you in a blur of gray and gold, bright late morning sun glinting off the hood of Riri’s Barracuda. Wind hissed faintly through the cracked window, carrying the low hum of The Internet through the car speakers, the only sound between you for the past forty-five minutes.
You’d tried for conversation, twice, maybe three times, but each of Riri’s responses were clipped and curt.
“Fine.”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah.”
Her jaw was set in stone as always, and quite honestly, her grip on the steering wheel was beginning to become concerning. She hadn’t even looked your way since the first toll.
But she did let you connect your phone to the aux, so small miracles and what not.
The silence was gnawing. It wasn't the comfortable kind you’d learned to love with her, instead you got the kind that made your chest itch with things unspoken. You knew she was upset, hence the silent treatment, you just didn't care. Mostly because she was mad at you for the same damn reason you were mad at her.
When you spoke again, your voice broke through the low thrum of the song’s bass. “You really not gonna talk to me because I let my boyfriend kiss me goodbye?”
Riri didn’t even glance over, her expression remaining unbothered. “Yes.”
Yet another single word response.
You blinked, incredulous. “So I guess I have the right to not talk to you because you let your girlfriend kiss you goodbye, then, huh?”
“That’s different,” She said immediately, as if this conclusion was the most obvious to come to.
“Different how, exactly?”
Riri’s mouth twitched, her words stern and certain. “Zariyah isn’t my girlfriend.”
Your laughter was bitter as it bellowed out of your bosom, and you shook your head, turning to face the window. “Do you know how much you fucking suck?”
“No.” Her tone softened, slipping into something taunting and smug. “Tell me how much.”
All the while she kept her attention trained on the road, never wavering, never once turning to spare you a glance. You could kick her right now, but the act wouldn't bode well where your safety was concerned, so reluctantly, you decided against it.
“You so full of shit, Ri. You know that?” You huffed, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “She not your girlfriend, but you still sleep with her every chance you get. Not your girlfriend, but you bring her around like she’s your better half. Still make out with her in front of me without a care in the world.”
“None of that makes her my girlfriend, though.”
Your head whipped toward her. “I cannot fucking stand you.”
“I’m not understanding…” The innocence in her voice was barely legitimate, and you could sense the smug grin she was fighting to hold back.
“You think I enjoyed watching you swap spit with Zariyah? How you think that shit made me feel, Riri?”
Her tone stayed maddeningly even. “I don’t know. How did it make you feel?”
“Not good!” You snapped, voice climbing higher than you meant.
She scoffed under her breath, “Can’t say I enjoyed watching you kiss Hakeem either.”
“I know! That’s exactly what I mean!”
For a moment, the engine’s hum was the only sound between you as the sudden quiet enveloped you. Riri remained silent beside you, but not in the way she was before. This silence wasn't reactionary, or vengeful. It was… ponderous, like she was contemplating. And then she spoke, asking curiously, “So what are you trying to say? You want me to stop seeing Zariyah? Stop sleeping with her? Is that it?”
Your chest stuttered. “What? I– no, I–”
But the words tripped, and your breath faltered. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. Hell, you hadn’t meant to say anything at all. But now that the thought was out there, you couldn’t ignore the truth crawling up your chest.
Was that what you were trying to say?
Your heart rate grew violent as the car hummed along the mostly empty highway. You stared wordlessly at the passing trees blurring by your window, trying to make sense of yourself. You hadn’t even considered it before now—the idea of asking her to stop, of claiming something that wasn’t supposed to be yours to claim. But maybe… maybe that was what you wanted.
You swallowed hard, your reflection flickering faintly in the glass. “I don’t know if that’s something I can ask you to do,” You whispered breathlessly.
“Why not?”
“Is that something I can even ask you to do?”
“Why do you feel like you can’t?”
“I don't know…” The sigh that you breathed out held more weight than you wanted it to, making the words that followed seem more vulnerable, more raw. “Doesn’t feel like it’s my place. You been with her longer than you’ve known me. I don’t know if whatever we got going on takes precedence over that.”
Riri didn’t speak for a long moment, and she had that look on her face again, the one that signaled that her brain was working, moving a mile a minute, in tandem with the car's wheels.
You gasped when she finally turned to look at you. It was fast, fleeting, but far from passionless. Her eyes found the pavement ahead of her once more. And her statement found you, in the way she intended it to you think. Melted down to the bone. Tender to the touch merely off her stare alone.
“You take precedence over everything in my life right now.”
Blood rushed to your face and ears as you did your very best to contain the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through your system.
“I’ll stop sleeping with Zariyah,” She continued, steady but soft. “But you gotta stop sleeping with Hakeem too…”
“I’m not,” You blurted before she could finish. “Sleeping with him, I mean.” You swallowed hard, cheeks burning. “I’m not sleeping with Hakeem.”
She tossed you a glance, brows raised.
You rushed on, words tumbling. “We haven’t. I mean– we never. We tried, it just never– Except for at his party, but that wasn’t– Not the full thing…”
You felt your throat closing, shame rising fast and hot. “I’ve never–” You stopped, voice cracking. “I’ve just… never.”
You mumbled that last part quietly, hoping she hadn't heard it.
Silence, again. Thick and stretching.
You were staring straight ahead, cheeks on fire. It was difficult to ignore the embarrassment prickling up your neck. You expected laughter, maybe a snide comment, something to ease the tension, but not the kind you wanted, and you braced yourself for her teasing.
It never came though.
Riri’s gaze lingered on you longer than it should’ve before she looked back to the road, her voice falling to a quiet sigh. “You’re not sleeping with Hakeem.”
“No.”
Her jaw flexed. “And I’m not sleeping with Zariyah. Not anymore.”
Something unspoken passed between you then, something fragile and dangerous, and far too big for the confines of that car. Neither of you spoke. Didn’t need to. You just leaned forward, turned up the radio a little too loud, and sank into the thrum of the music, hiding your grin behind your hand as contentment expanded inside your body.
•••
The vibe had mellowed for the rest of the drive.
By the time you reached the city limits, the air between you and Riri had settled. It wasn't exactly calm, but the tautness had disappeared. She was back to her usual cocky self. One hand lazy on the wheel, the other finding excuses to graze your thigh whenever she shifted gears. She’d hum along to the music you played, a few soft R&B tracks, and some indie stuff she pretended not to like but didn’t change either. Her laughter was back, her teasing was back, fingers tracing idle circles on your knee like she wasn't the reason it had been bouncing uncontrollably a few hours ago.
When she finally pulled up to the hotel, it was a lot later in the afternoon than you thought. The drive hadn't felt that long, not with Riri driving like she was on a high speed chase.
The Arcadia hotel was impossible to miss. Sleek glass towers reached for the skyline, their mirrored faces catching the sunlight like prisms. Every panel seemed to glow faintly from within, veins of light tracing up the building in clean geometric lines. The automatic doors slid open without a sound, releasing just a soft hiss of air that smelled faintly of ozone and something floral.
Riri tossed her keys to the valet guy. He looked to be about your age, maybe a year or two older, and was barely keeping his jaw from dropping at the sight of the candy-red Barracuda.
“She better look exactly like this when I get her back, too,” Riri called out, her tone just as intimidating as she intended it to be.
You giggled, shaking your head. “Girl, stop threatening strangers and come on. Let’s go inside.”
The hotel’s atrium looked like something out of a Stark Industries fever dream. Massive glass panels displayed a shifting hologram of Tony Stark’s arc reactor, pulsing softly in shades of icy blue. The floors glowed faintly beneath your shoes, tracking foot traffic with smart-light patterns. The walls doubled as digital displays that advertised the DeltaLab Symposium all around you, full of faces you recognized from tech blogs and academic journals.
In a way, it felt like walking into a cathedral. Except this one worshiped innovation.
The Arcadia wasn’t just a hotel, it was Tony Stark’s final legacy. Before his death, he’d built it as both a monument and a living space for the next generation of STEM visionaries. The DeltaLab Symposium had been his idea too, three days where the best student researchers in the country would gather to showcase one of a kind projects, network, and compete for all types of scholarships, grants, and internships with the most powerful tech companies on the planet.
You’d dreamt of this, of being here since your freshman year of high school. You remembered staying up late to stream the presentations online with your sister, scribbling notes in your notebook as each group presented their projects. You never actually thought you’d make it. And you definitely hadn’t pictured making it here with someone like Riri Williams at your side.
But here you were.
“Come on,” You called over your shoulder, weaving through a cluster of grad students in matching lanyards. “Noelle said they’re at the front desk checking in. We just have to find it…”
Behind you, Riri grunted under the weight of several duffel bags, yours and hers both, slung haphazardly over her short arms. “I thought these fancy hotels had people who take your luggage for you,” She whined. “And who the fuck is Noelle?”
“She’s in our class, Ri.” You grinned, barely containing your excitement as you pushed through the sea of bodies, eyes wide at the holographic banners scrolling above. “Come on!”
You caught sight of a familiar head of neon green braids bouncing in the crowd. “Oh! There they are!”
Riri’s voice floated behind you, breathless and mildly irritated. “I’ve never seen any of these people a day in my life.”
When you finally reached the group, you were beaming. “Oh my god, hey! Did you guys already check in?”
Noelle—a chubby girl about as short as Riri, with smooth onyx skin and two long ponytails that cascaded down her shoulders—turned to hug you, smelling of toasted almonds and caramel, her bright green braids framing her grin.
“Mhmm! But Dr. Lucas old ass only booked five rooms instead of six,” She said, rolling her eyes. “I told him to let me handle all the technicalities, but all he wanted to talk about was how my presentation was coming, and if I made flash cards with talking points. Anyway, the whole hotel’s booked up for the symposium, so one of us gotta share. We were waiting for y’all to get here before we decided–”
“We’ll share!” Riri’s voice cut through before she could finish, overeager and loud.
You and the rest of your classmates jumped a little, and she coughed, trying to play it off, adjusting one of the bags on her shoulder. “I mean, me and her, we’ll share. We don’t mind.”
Noelle blinked, visibly processing, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Uh, you sure?” She asked, the question directed more at you than Riri.
You nodded quickly, biting down the smile that threatened to give you away. “It’s fine, Noelle. I’m sure. We’ll share.”
“Okay girl…” She said slowly, though her eyes lingered on Riri with unmistakable skepticism. “If you say so.”
“Mhmm.” You smiled sweetly.
She turned back to the group. “Alright, here are your lanyards and access watches. These’ll get you into your rooms and the many research labs in this building. Oh, and the libraries, in the conjoining building. You got seventy-two hours of full access, so try not to lose them, okay? Paul, I’m talking to you.”
You were buzzing, your heart fluttering as the smart band clicked into place around your wrist—your golden ticket. It beamed to life under the lobby lights, and for a moment, you really did feel like Charlie stepping through the gates of his chocolate factory.
Riri, on the other hand, was glaring daggers at Noelle, her nose wrinkled like she’d inhaled a bad scent. “I’m trippin, or this bitch got a problem with me?”
“Relax, Ri,” You muttered, trying to keep your voice low. “Let’s just find our room.”
“Nah, cause she keep mean-muggin me.”
“Ri. Drop it.” You glanced at your smartwatch. “I think that elevator over there goes to our floor.”
Before you could move though, Noelle stopped you with a hand on your arm. “Hey girl, I’m in room 318, eighth floor. You know, if you need a break from–”
“A break from what?” Riri cut in, popping her head from behind you like a nosy kid.
Noelle looked her up and down slowly, then turned her head away without a word, disregarding her entirely. It was the kind of dismissal Riri usually specialized in, but with slightly more finesse.
“Anyway,” Noelle continued, ignoring Riri’s glare, “you know where I’m at. Text me if you need anything.”
And just like that, she was gone.
“Now I know I’m not trippin. You better get her bef–”
“Hush.” You cut her off, steering her toward the elevators. “Come on, I wanna explore this place and I can’t do that if I’m stuck down here listening to you fuss like a baby.”
Riri grumbled under her breath, but she followed willingly behind you anyway, withholding any further complaints.
The elevator was packed, a sleek glass capsule that shot through the atrium like a bullet. There were eighty floors in the hotel, and you were riding to the tenth, pressed shoulder to shoulder with a dozen other enthusiastic strangers chattering amongst each other.
When the doors finally slid open, you stepped out, and Riri did so after you, dragging the bags behind her. “How do you know Noelle anyway?” She asked, tone deceptively casual.
“She’s in our class.” You answered simply, impatient brown orbs trailing the hallway walls, on the prowl for room 521.
“Uh huh. But how do you know her?”
You smirked. “She does my braids, damn. I promise you’re my first and only sapphic love affair. Don’t get your boxers in a tangle.”
“That’s not why I was asking,” She grumbled, eyes narrowing.
“Sure it wasn't,” You teased, spotting the glowing silver digits on the door. “Oh, there it is!”
“I just wanted to know what her problem was,” Riri said as you slipped your key watch against the lock. “And I think I figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” You quizzed, unlocking the door with your watch, a soft chime welcoming you both into the suite.
There was a thud behind you, the moment you’d been half expecting. Either Riri had finally lost the battle with the bags, or they’d taken her down with them. You weren’t sure which, nor did you care.
“You been shit talking me to your little friend, haven't you?” Riri groaned, finally catching up to where you’d wandered deeper into the room. You hadn't acknowledged her statement, too caught up in the grandiose lodgings laid out in front of you.
The place was enormous.
Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling window, washing over porcelain tiled floors and the soft leather couch that looked far too expensive to sit on. The air smelled faintly of lemon polish and something sterile, like the tang of new technology. You drifted through the space, wide-eyed. You were a kid in a candy store, touching and tapping every surface you could get your hands on.
To your left, the kitchen glimmered to life the second you walked past the sink. It was decked out with all new stainless steel appliances, and countertops that lit up with responsive motion sensors as you passed your hand over them. You trailed your fingers along the glossy island, startling back as a holographic display blinked on to offer recipes, cooking instructions, and drink suggestions.
“I’m never leaving this place.” You sighed contently, tugging open the dishwasher just to see if it made some sort of futuristic sound. It didn't, but still.
The floating staircase was calling your name, and you rushed over to climb it, gasping as each step flashed beneath the impact of your feet, leading you directly into the loft-style bedroom that overlooked the entire living space.
“This whole suite is bigger than my apartment,” You whispered, still in awe.
“Yeah, it is.” Riri’s voice came from your rear, agreeing, “This entire hotel is like something out of a Black Mirror episode. It's crazy…”
Every inch of the suite gleamed with quiet opulence. There was a sleek chandelier dangling from the high ceiling, a digital fireplace crackling right below the mounted cinema style TV, its heat simulated but convincing enough to make you want to linger.
Riri was still talking behind you, muttering something low and careless that barely registered as you gaped at your surroundings. But, by the time you’d spun around, you hadn't needed her to repeat herself. Air caught sharp in your lungs, slicing through them as your gaze landed on the center of the loft.
On the bed.
It was massive, dressed in crisp white sheets, a sleek blue headboard, and a comforter that looked softer than a cloud.
You opened your mouth, hesitant to voice your observation out loud, “There's–”
“Only one bed.” Riri smirked, that slow, knowing curve of her lips that promised trouble.
•••
Okay, so logically, you knew there was zero reason to have any kind of anxiety about sleeping in the same bed with Riri Williams. You’d done so many other things with her already, been kissed breathless, touched, teased, wrecked in ways you'd never thought possible. So why? Why was this the thing that had your brain short-circuiting? You were no stranger to intimacy with her, not by a long shot. But spending the night with her felt… different. Bigger. Like a step you hadn’t quite agreed to take but were already halfway through.
You’d just admitted to her that morning, while trapped in a car for hours, that you were basically a virgin. You didn't even want to know what her brain was doing with that information. Satan himself would probably steer clear of the thoughts that were birthing from it.
Besides, could you even still call yourself that? A virgin? You’d already let her touch you, let her see you in ways that should’ve disqualified you from that title, but still. You’d never, well, you hadn’t done… that. Not with anyone.
Hakeem didn’t count.
He’d never made you feel what Riri did, never pulled sounds from you that made you question your own name. But Riri… god, Riri. She existed in a league of her very own, with her… gifts.
And you’d had the thoughts, the ones about wanting to make her feel what she made you feel. There wasn't a moment of any day where you weren't thinking about it. You zoned out in lectures, in labs. You’d dream about it while you slept, waking up feeling embarrassed, flushed, and with a sticky mess in your panties. You imagined what she might sound like, what her body might do under your hands.
But, whenever you tried working up the nerve to actually do something, your brain shorted out somewhere between panic and paralysis. Because what if you were bad at it? What if she didn’t like it? What if she just laid there, bored, eyes open, thinking, Wow, Zariyah is so much better at this. You’d have to die on the spot. There’d be no recovering from that.
So you did the safest thing possible, which was nothing. You let her take the lead, let her break you down and make you feel. You convinced yourself that being desired by her was enough to quell your ache. And now, standing here, in this fancy hotel suite with one bed and no escape route, the confidence to even think about pleasing her had dwindled to almost nonexistent.
Which meant you were screwed, judging by the expression on Riri’s face, in her eyes.
She walked around to the front of the bed, her gaze bouncing off the mattress, over to where you stood anxiously. That look, god, you’d seen it before. Her eyes were molten, and murky, as if she were already plotting the things she'd do to you once the lights went out. That same heat that typically made your knees weak now crawled under your skin, turning your nervous system inside out. You watched as her head tilted slightly, her mouth twitching like she somehow knew how terrified you were.
Maybe it was evident in the way you were standing. Frozen near the loft railing, eyes nervously scanning the room for anything but Riri’s.
She looked ready, prepared. And you couldn't get your brain to stop screaming oh my god she's going to eat me alive. You couldn’t even look at the bed without imagining the many positions she'd have you in on it. It was massive, and its size made the larger than life suite feel suffocating.
But, you had to play it all off. You had to keep it together so she wouldn't think you were wussing out. You wanted this just as badly as she did, her desire just didn't come with the tangle of what ifs that yours did. So you straightened your back, forced a steady smile, and brushed past her into the bathroom.
“So,” You began, calling over your shoulder, “you want the left side or the right?” Your voice was so chipper it made your ears ring.
You shut the door halfway, creating a small wall of sanctuary between you and her, taking this time to explore your temporary place of refuge. The bathroom was ridiculous. All glass and automatic lights that adjusted the moment you stepped inside. The counters were marble, cool against your palms as you leaned on them, and the shower was encased in smart glass that went opaque when you snapped your fingers.
If you stayed in here long enough, maybe you could trick your nerves into calming down.
You adjusted your braids in the mirror, pretending like the action required concentration, and it wasn't just a ploy so you could keep hiding from the girl standing ten feet away. Of course, Riri didn't care about the sudden shift in your behavior, ignoring your panic as though it were a non factor.
Her reflection appeared over your shoulder, the grin on her face knowing. “Whichever side’s gonna let me be on top of you all weekend long,” She hummed, head tilted, eyes sliding down your backside as if she couldn’t help herself.
“Ha ha.” You rolled your eyes, attempting to appear deadpan, but your pulse betrayed you.
You exited the bathroom, making a beeline straight for the stairs before she had the chance to read your expression and feel the heat beaming off your skin.
You grabbed your bag as you headed back up to the loft, ready to use it as a shield if need be. “I just wanna unpack, maybe find something to eat, then go check out the research labs! My watch says there’s ten total in this place!”
She didn't answer.
Riri hadn't moved an inch in the thirty seconds it took you to go downstairs and come back up. Her back was still against the wall near the bathroom, her arms were crossed, and her eyes were following your every movement. The look she gave you wasn't an impatient one like you'd expected. It was more labored, more somber—the kind of glare that felt like a fingertip traveling the length of your spine.
You sat on the bed. “I’m gonna change shoes and go exploring,” You went on, talking mostly to fill the silence that threatened to blow your cover. “You coming with me?”
You tried not to hyperfixate on that pathetic little crack in your voice on the word me. Or on the way Riri looked as she finally peeled herself off of the wall, and began walking over to you. The way she moved was unhurried—she already knew she had you cornered before she even reached you. She stilled just in front of where you sat at the edge of the bed, and slipped a finger under your chin, tilting it up until your big brown eyes met hers.
The world shrank to the sound of your breath, the air between you so dense it might as well have been a current.
Neither of you spoke. For a moment, she just held your jaw, caressing your skin tenderly. Her eyes were deeper than before—darker—overflowing with swells that might just drown you. And you were falling fast, not bothering to fight her pull.
“You do understand why I have zero interest in research labs right now, don't you?” She asked, voice low and raspy. The brown in her irises had disappeared, replaced almost entirely by flickers of gold, and flashes of her growing desires. Her gaze was unblinking, intense, like she was memorizing you.
And Fuck… you almost whimpered. But you were able to reign it in before it got too pathetic. “I don’t understand why you’d pass up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” You managed, trying to sound smart, reasonable.
She smiled then, slow and dangerous. “We got three whole days to explore this hotel,” She reminded you softly. “Right now, the only thing I’m tryna explore… is you.”
Her words sent something electric through you, and just as you were blinking yourself back into reality, she leaned in, so close that her breath kissed you before her lips did. You’d forgotten what you were going to say, forgotten every line of protest that was supposed to come out of your mouth.
All you could think, feel, and breathe was her.
You sank into the kiss, her hand cupping your face, the other gripping the back of your neck as if she could pull you closer still. She melted your nerves away with her tongue, but your stomach was still doing cartwheels inside of your abdomen.
“Been waiting so long to… get… you… alone…” Riri breathed in between kisses, the force of her mouth tipping you over onto the mattress. “Ima take such good care of you, baby.”
You believed her. And you almost let her get a taste.
But, just as quickly, you came back to yourself.
“As much as I would love that…” You whispered between breaths, “…I’m kinda hungry.”
Riri groaned, forehead falling to your shoulder. “Seriously?”
“I need food, Ri. Haven’t eaten since the drive here.” You whined. “You want me to pass out before we even get to do anything?”
She pulled back with a sigh, lips twitching in mock frustration. “Fine. I’ll see what they got in the fridge—wait. No.” Her eyes brightened. “Let’s order a shit ton of room service.”
“Ain't that gon cost like a shit ton of money?” You asked jokingly.
Riri shrugged, “Who cares? All our meals are comped while we're here. Ima definitely be taking advantage of that.”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re so unserious.”
Riri didn’t even acknowledge you, too excited about the prospect of eating on Tony Stark's dime. She was already scrolling through the room service menu, mumbling about appetizers and desserts under her breath. You didn’t bother stopping her, not when this break, however brief, was exactly what you needed. This was probably going to be your only chance to catch your breath, and brace for whatever was to come.
Because deep down, you knew this was only an intermission, and when it ended, you’d be right back where you started.
•••
Night had settled behind the clouds, and through the suite’s pristine glass windows, you gazed out at the Arcadia skyline. The city was awake nine floors below you, alive and pulsing like a heartbeat. Meanwhile, you were stuck inside with Riri, watching her down her second serving of french fries as she denied your request for the hundredth time.
“Please, Riiiii,” You begged, stretching her name like it might wear her down if you said it sweetly enough. “It’ll be fun!”
You’d been at it for an hour, pleading, pouting, and trying every angle you could think of. But she refused to budge. “Fun for who, exactly?” She shot back, chewing loudly. “You? Cause it definitely ain’t gonna be fun for me.”
You sighed dramatically, sinking deeper into the couch cushion. She was right, you’d already known she’d hate the idea before you even asked. Normally, you would’ve hated it too. A night out in an unfamiliar city, surrounded by people you didn’t know, when you could be preparing for a presentation that could decide your entire future? Yeah, no thanks.
But desperate times called for stupid, desperate measures.
So when Noelle had texted you, raving about some rooftop lounge her cousin’s friend worked at, asking if you wanted to come, that was all it took. You needed a distraction, something to keep Riri’s hands and mouth occupied elsewhere. The way she’d been looking at you since dinner had your nerves playing double dutch, and you were certain you weren't ready for anything she had in mind.
So you popped the question, but in true Riri Williams fashion, you were shot down before you could even finish asking.
“You sure you don't wanna go?” You quizzed her again, deciding this time would be final.
“I already said no, didn't I?” Her voice was flat, eyes on the TV that wasn’t even on.
You huffed and stood, brushing imaginary crumbs off your thighs. “Well alright then.”
“Where are you going?” Her voice was trailing after you as you walked away to climb the stairs. You put a little sway in your hips just because you could, knowing her eyes would be glued to your ass.
Her gaze followed you all the way up the staircase and into the bedroom. After grabbing your makeup bag you leaned over the loft railing, finally addressing her with a small smile. “I’m getting dressed.”
You then walked into the bathroom, and locked it behind you.
“Just cause you don't wanna go out, don't mean I can't.” It was said more to yourself than to her, but you knew by the time you opened the door again, Riri would already be there waiting for you. No doubt with a slew of reasons why you couldn't go out.
The bathroom lights flicked on as soon as you stepped in. The mirrors recognized your face from earlier, and adjusted their brightness accordingly. You sat your makeup bag down on the counter space, then turned to gape at the deep cobalt dress you’d hung up on one of the door hooks. You’d packed it on a whim. Just in case.
And now you actually had to put it on.
After finishing your makeup and pulling your braids into a high ponytail, you turned to face the dress waiting for you once again. The fabric hugged every dip of your hips, and every curve on your body as you pulled it on. It felt tighter than you remembered, shorter too, baring more skin than you probably should’ve allowed. You caught your reflection in the mirror and sighed, already imagining the look on Riri’s face when she saw you in it.
Maybe wearing something this revealing wasn’t the smartest move when your whole plan was to get her out of the hotel, not give her more reasons to get you into bed. But you’d already told Noelle yes, and after wasting an hour trying to talk Riri into coming, there was no backing out now.
You took a breath, squared your shoulders, and opened the bathroom door.
Riri’s jaw slackened when she saw you, and she just stared, silent and motionless. She trailed her eyes down all of your exposed skin, then back up with a hard gulp.
“What do you think?” You prompted as you stood in the doorway.
Her reaction was instant. “No.”
“No?” You bit your lip to hold back a laugh.
“Of all the clothes you could’ve packed, you picked that?” She demanded, voice caught somewhere between disbelief and threat.
You turned toward the full-length mirror, admiring the way the dress shimmered in the low light. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You really think I’m letting you go out like that?”
You met her gaze through the mirror. She was trying so hard to look calm, but her voice was shaking slightly, her eyes running the full length of your body again. Not in judgment, in hunger.
“I don’t need your permission to wear a dress, Riri,” You said, casually slipping on your heels of choice. “It looks good on me, so I’m wearing it.”
“Too good. That’s the fucking problem,” She cursed, running a hand over her mouth.
You brushed past her, not bothering to acknowledge the way she breathed you in with practiced ease, and you headed back downstairs. “You seen my phone?”
“Gotta text Noelle and tell her I’ll be down soon.” You exhaled slowly, nerves and satisfaction tangling in your chest.
“You’re not going out looking like that,” Riri stated like it was final, trailing you down the stairs now, her irritation tangible enough to fill the whole suite.
By the time you reached the couch, your heartbeat had calmed, mostly, and you reached for your phone on the coffee table. You swiped on another layer of gloss using your front camera, not even bothering to glance up at her as you responded. “I’m literally bout to call my uber now.”
You slung your purse over your shoulder, ignoring Riri’s groans and grumbles from behind you as you headed for the door. “I asked you to come and you said no, but I still wanna go out, so I’m gonna–”
That’s when you heard it, the sharp scrape of her socks against the floor, the thud of her steps closing the distance.
“Riri what are you–”
But before you could finish, she moved quick, stepping in front of the door and blocking it with her whole body. Her chest rose and fell hard, her eyes fixed on you like you were something she was trying to protect from the entire world.
“Fine!” She burst out, throwing her hands up. “Fine, I’ll come with you. Fuck.”
The air between you was charged and humming. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. She didn’t mean to look so desperate, but there it was. Her voice cracked slightly, her shoulders tensed even though she tried to play it off. You’d anticipated this level of fierce protection, but feeling it was something else entirely. She was standing too close now, still fuming, and you couldn't help how turned on you were.
You needed to get out of here, and fast.
“Okay then,” You said softly, biting back a breathy whine. “Guess I’ll wait for you to get dressed.”
A few minutes later, the two of you made your way down to her car. The elevator wasn’t nearly as packed as it had been earlier in the day, but there were still a handful of guests on it. Though, prodding eyes didn't seem to be enough to stop Riri’s hand from brushing your lower back as if testing the limits of your composure. You elbowed her lightly, whispering, “Behave. We’re in public. And this elevator’s literally see-through.”
She just grinned innocently, her reflection catching yours in the mirrored walls. Her eyes glinted with something that made your pulse skip and lips twitch.
By the time you hit the lobby, it was alive with chatter and laughter—the energy of students from every corner of the country buzzing like static in the air. You caught a few compliments on your outfit as you passed, which you accepted graciously and kept walking. You knew not to push it, not with Riri tossing a death glare at everyone who dared to address you. She was walking behind you, not touching, but close enough for her air of possessiveness to loom around you both.
You shrugged her off with a grin, stepping through the silent sliding doors. “Relax.”
The drive to the lounge was just as silent. You’d already assessed the mood she was in, knowing sound would only make it worse. She still kept her hand on your thigh while she drove though, as though touching you kept her regulated. The gesture made you smile to yourself, content and warm all over.
“Turn right up here,” You said, staring out the window.
She groaned but obeyed, mumbling something you couldn't care to catch.
Just as you caught sight of the neon sign outside the lounge, and the packed parking lot, your phone buzzed.
Noelle: girl, i can't make it😭 i met this guy in the lobby, he goes to caltech and he is foineee! tall and chocolate, and ghanaian. anyway, we're going back upstairs. sorry, hope you didn't leave yet😬
You groaned under your breath, “Shit.”
Riri was already pulling into a space, and cutting the engine when you looked over at her. “What now?”
“Nothing!” You said too quickly, laughing a little too loud. “It’s… it’s no big deal.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”
You exhaled, bracing yourself. “Noelle isn’t coming anymore.”
She blinked at you, “What?”
“I know, I know– I’m the one who made you come out here even though you didn’t want to, I’m sor–”
“It's fine.”
You froze, studying her face for signs of irritation that never came. She didn't react, instead she smiled, finding hilarity in the way you anticipated some sort of outburst.
“I said it’s fine.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “We’re already here. Might as well go in.” She opened your door, nodding toward the entrance. “You was the one saying it would be fun.”
Casual compliance was extremely unusual for the Riri you knew, but you didn't have time to dwell on it. The moment you stepped inside, the sound swallowed you whole. A bass-heavy R&B track vibrated through the floor, deep enough to rattle your ribs. The lights were low, tinted crimson and violet, flickering over bodies pressed too close for comfort. Laughter, clinking glasses, perfume and sweat—the air was thick with it all.
You froze in the doorway, your earlier optimism faltering. This was supposed to be an escape, a way to keep Riri’s hands—and your thoughts—occupied with literally anything other than each other. But looking around now, you realized how badly you’d miscalculated. Everything about this place screamed intimacy, and you were grappling with the fact that you’d brought her straight into a place built for temptation.
“This is what she called a lounge?” You shouted over the music, trying to mask the panic lacing your voice.
Riri just raised a brow, scanning the room like she was calculating exits, or maybe, possibilities.
Yeah, this was definitely going to have the opposite effect of what you’d planned.
You spotted an empty table tucked into a corner and tugged her wrist. “Come on.”
Tension was sitting heavy in your chest, and you began drumming your fingers against the table as you sat down.
“Why the long face?” Riri teased, leaning close enough for her breath to brush your ear. “Plan not going how you thought?”
You startled upright. “What plan? There’s no plan.”
“Sure.” She smirked, moving behind your chair, her voice a warm cascade against your neck. “I’m gonna get us drinks. You stay here and figure out how you think this night’s gonna end.”
Your throat went dry, and she walked off before you could reply, swallowed up by the crowd.
When she came back, she slid a glass toward you and sat down, her expression softer now. “You don't have to be scared, you know that right?”
You froze mid-sip. “What do you mean?”
When she looked at you, she saw through your entire facade. “You’ve been nervous as hell since we got here. Since this morning, honestly. You think I don’t know why you wanted to go out? Why you’ve been trying to keep us busy?”
A gust of air got stuck in your throat, and you choked on your drink.
“I know this weekend’s a lot,” She said, leaning back. “It’s the first time we’ve really been alone. I know what that must feel like for you, the pressure and all that. But I don’t expect anything from you. I’m only teasing.”
You were quiet as you let the weight of her words settle over you, relieving some of the embarrassment you’d been swimming in all day. You let out a breath, smiling when she reached over to squeeze your hand.
“Thanks for that.” You whispered sarcastically, holding her stare the entire time.
Riri scooted her chair closer to yours so she could wrap her arm around your shoulder. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to. I’m moving at your pace with this. Anything you say, goes.”
“How about we start with dancing?” You shot up, holding your arm out for her to grab onto. You could already sense the protest that she was about to spit, and you stopped her. “You said anything I say goes. I say we dance!”
She hesitated, for all her bravado, Riri wasn’t much for dancing. But then she sighed, setting her glass down. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
The dance floor pulsed with light and bodies. Your heels clacked against the floor as you wove through the crowd, tugging the shorter girl behind you. Heat rolled through the room, heavy and humid, the kind that stuck to your skin and made every breath taste like perfume and liquor. When you reached the center of the room, you stopped, turning to face her, your pulse matching the steady bass thudding beneath your feet.
Riri paused before placing her hands on your waist, tentative, and almost shy. You could tell she was hyperaware of every pair of eyes around you, you were too, and you had to reassure her that no one was looking.
You grinned softly, guiding her wrists higher, pulling her closer until your chests brushed. But before you could close the space completely, she pulled back. Her fingers twitched against your sides, uncertain. Her eyes darted around the crowd, over the couples pressed together, the dim lights, the hands roaming freely in plain sight. You could practically see the thought written across her face.
We shouldn’t.
“Ri,” You voiced gently, your words soft enough to be swallowed by the music. She wouldn’t meet your gaze at first, so you tucked your finger under her chin, tilting it upward so her eyes would catch yours. “Look around. Nobody here knows us. We're okay.”
She didn't move, but you witnessed the way her breathing quickened, saw the conflict in her shoulders, that old habit of having to hide threatening to take over. But she was fighting it.
“Dance with me, Ri.”
Then, slowly, she nodded. Her palms flattened against your back, and she leaned in, resting her forehead against yours. You could feel her smile ghost across your skin, small but real. And then she found her rhythm—your rhythm. The tension melted away from her bones. For the first time, being with her felt like freedom. The two of you weren't hiding, you weren't pretending because you didn't have to.
You were existing—together.
The song shifted into something heavier, and you turned, pressing your back to her chest, hips rolling against hers. Her hands tightened around your waist, fingers digging in deep like she was marking her territory. It was hot, so tempting, and the sound she made when you moved against her was only strengthening your growing arousal.
“You know,” She began, her breath hot against your neck, “the first time I saw you dance to this song was at that party Keem dragged us to.”
You laughed breathlessly, your hips still glued to her. “You remember that?”
“Yeah,” Her voice was rough and smoky as you inhaled. “You were dancing with him. And the whole time, I was standing there thinking, damn… that should be me.”
You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at her. “You had feelings for me all the way back then?”
Riri chuckled, the sound vibrating against your spine. “Don’t ask me that like you don’t already know.” Her hands tightened on your waist, guiding you.
You turned to face her, your noses nearly brushing. The beat shifted, deeper now, like the room itself was holding its breath. “If I remember right,” Your eyes flickered down to her mouth, “I went home with you that night.”
Her grin unfurled slowly, sharp and knowing. “I took yo drunk ass home, yeah.” She corrected, her tone playful.
Your hand slid up the back of her neck, fingers grazing her skin, tracing the curve of her jaw. Her pulse jumped beneath your touch, and she smirked up at you. You leaned in, your lips grazing the shell of her ear, “Wanna take me home again tonight?”
You felt her inhale, felt the air shift between you, something taut and electric snapping into place. And then, she went rigid. You pulled back to see her eyes, but they were locked onto something over your shoulder that you couldn't make out.
“Ri?” You asked, voice small.
She didn’t answer at first, eyes still glazed over, and filled with rage. Then, quietly, “We gotta go.”
“What? Why?”
Her tone sharpened. “Just– come on.”
You followed her as she pushed through the crowd, confusion and rejection coursing through your veins. You were calling her name, asking questions, and not once did she look back or try to answer you.
Was it you? Had you not read the signs correctly? Surely it wasn't you… right?
You barely kept up, your heels clacking against the concrete steps as you stumbled after her. “Riri! What the fuck is going on?”
“Just get in the car.”
“No! Not until you tell me what the hell just happened! We were fine, we were–”
“I told you I didn’t wanna come in the first fucking place!” She snapped, voice cracking with something raw. “And now I’m ready to fucking go! Just– get in the damn car.”
You froze, heart stuttering. “You do not get to talk to me like that anymore!” You hissed. “Are you fucking crazy?!”
You thought you were past this, you thought she was past this. The snapping on you without cause or explanation. Talking down to you like you were less than a person. But who were you kidding? This was the Riri you knew, because this was the only Riri Williams that existed. And you were a fool for thinking you could ever trust her.
You got in the passenger seat and slammed the door, not caring about the glare she shot your way as the sound reverberated. The engine roared. And as the city lights blurred past the windshield, you sat there, fuming, confused, watching her drive with your jaw clenched, eyes hard and distant.
•••
You woke up late the next morning to the heavy quiet of the suite. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was tossing a pillow and blanket over the loft’s railing, and watching them land with a dull thud on the couch below. It was petty, sure, but after the way Riri snapped at you last night, you weren't about to let her anywhere near you.
So much for being anxious about sleeping with her.
You sighed, dragging yourself out the bed, still stewing. You moved on autopilot—shower, toothbrush, lotion, clothes—each task motivation, a way to get you up and out the room before you had to see or speak to her. She was still asleep on the couch by the time you’d finished getting ready, curled up under the blanket you’d tossed down. Her straight backs were tucked securely beneath her durag, and she had the faintest little scowl still etched into her face. You stared for a second too long, just admiring the way her chest rose and fell, before shaking your head.
“Not doing this today.” You grumbled to yourself on the way out the door.
You’d decided in the shower that today was yours to seize. No sulking, no waiting around for her to say something. You weren't moving on Riri time today. You had an entire hotel filled to the brim with tech for you to sink your teeth into. And that's exactly what you would do… right after you explored the complimentary breakfast bar down stairs.
The Arcadia’s cafeteria was buzzing with the hum of conversation, the clatter of plates, and the hiss of espresso machines blending into one overwhelming symphony.
Your eyes darted over the endless stretch of food options: golden waffles stacked high with whipped cream and berries, scrambled eggs, steaming bacon, turkey sausage links, avocado toast, croissants, tiny jars of jam, and an entire wall dedicated to fresh fruit.
You froze mid-step, paralyzed by choice. Eventually though, you settled on the waffles, a heap of scrambled eggs, and three strips of bacon. Something simple, and you topped it off by ordering an iced vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, because God knew you’d need it today.
You found a seat by the windows overlooking the city, and you sat down with your steaming plate, your latte already sweating through the cup. Once settled, you pulled your phone out, thumb hovering over your messages.
You: do you want me to grab you something? i’m in the cafeteria.
You stared at it. Then deleted it, and cursed under your breath. What the hell were you doing? No! You wouldn't fold that easily.
You were just setting your phone down when someone’s shadow fell across the table.
“Is this seat taken?”
You glanced up, and froze, blinking in awe.
The woman standing there looked like she’d walked out of a Vogue spread. Tall and slender, with warm brown skin and sharp cheekbones. She wore loose khaki trousers, a crisp white button-up, sleeves rolled to her elbows, but something about the way she wore them made them feel like armor. Her glasses were thin and round, the kind professors wore in old movies, and a gold necklace rested against the dip of her collarbone. Her rings gleamed as she gestured toward the empty chair.
Her accent was lilting—commanding—and rooted you in place.
You blinked once, then shook your head quickly. “Uh– no, go ahead.”
“Thank you.” She sat down with smooth precision, the faintest smile ghosting her lips.
“No problem,” You mumbled, forcing your eyes back to your phone. You tried to ignore her, really, you did, but her presence filled your insides with magnetic intensity. Her cologne too, so fragrant and suave, and far too expensive smelling for you to try naming.
Every time she lifted her fork, you found yourself sneaking a glance, trying to estimate how much food she had left. How soon she’d get up. How soon you’d be able to breathe again.
“So,” She started, her accent curling around the single word, “is this your first time?”
You nearly choked on your latte. “What?”
Her smile widened just slightly, amused. “At the symposium.”
“Oh! Yeah. Uh, yeah, it’s my first time.” You laughed awkwardly, words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’m here with my partner– project partner, I mean. Not like, romantic partner or anything like that. She's not– I mean I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not–”
You were a babbling mess incapable of keeping your cool.
The girl’s brow arched, but her tone was soft when she addressed you. “It’s all right, bhabha. It’s my first time too.”
Bhabha. You had no clue what it meant, a term of endearment you assumed, but the way it rolled off her tongue made your face burn. (baby)
“The only difference is,” She added, leaning back with a slow exhale as her biceps flexed, “I’m here without my partner. Though, I am hoping she’ll come around.”
“Oh… damn,” You fiddled with your fork, trying to blink away the imprint of her abs beneath her button up. “I’d be shitting bricks if I had to go up on that stage alone.”
That earned you a laugh—rich, deep, and completely disarming.
“I suppose I am doing something like that, yes,” She chuckled. “We had a disagreement, you see, about our… project. She has not spoken to me since.”
You frowned. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“I’m hoping to mend things with her this weekend. Before our presentation, I mean.” Her eyes flicked to yours, curious. “But enough about me. What about you and your partner, what is your presentation about?”
You narrowed your eyes at her slightly, “I don't know... maybe I shouldn't be telling you. Can’t reveal my secrets to you if you're my competition.”
“Oh come on,” The girl chimed, grinning and wagging her finger at you, “Something tells me that I should be the one worried about competing against you.”
“Maybe.” You laughed, ducking your head. “But uh… It’s, um… environmental modeling. We’re studying the population growth of an endangered species using a modified logistic equation.”
“Sounds… tedious.” She tilted her head, chin resting in her hand. “What’s modified about it?”
Your eyes lit up at her question, “The standard model only shows how a population grows until it hits the environment’s limit. But ours adds a term for human impact, like poaching, deforestation, or habitat loss.”
“So you’re basically simulating how people destroy things.” She pointed out.
You giggled despite yourself, remembering that Riri pointed out the exact same thing. “Pretty much, yeah. But we’re also adding a conservation term later, one that represents sanctuary zones or legal protection.”
Her gaze softened, interest glimmering behind her glasses. “So you can literally show what happens if the world starts caring a little sooner?”
“Exactly,” You said, smiling. “Even small changes can completely flip the outcome. It’s kind of… hopeful, I guess.”
“Hopeful looks good on you…” She eyed you, biting her lip like it was just a reflex.
Something fluttered in your stomach then, a nervous laugh that bubbled up the longer she kept gazing into your eyes. There was a spark there, something that landed between flattery and danger, and you were struggling to dismiss it.
The girl stood gracefully, adjusting the cuff of her sleeve. “I like the way your brain works. Intellect like yours is extremely rare, you should take pride in that.”
You blinked, stunned by the compliment. “Wait– Don't I get to hear about your project too? I’d love to pick your brain some more.”
“That Bhabha,” She stated, gathering her plate, “remains to be decided.” She paused, her lips curving slightly. “But like you… I’m hopeful about the outcome.”
She turned to leave, but not before adding, “I’m Shuri, by the way. It was nice meeting you. I look forward to learning more about you.”
She exited the cafeteria after that.
You stared after her, your heart racing, trying to place the accent, the posture, the confidence, the gold, until it hit you all at once.
Oh God.
Shuri.
Shuri, Princess of Wakanda. Oh god, had you just told the literal heir to one of the most advanced nations on Earth that you’d be “shitting bricks” on the stage?
“Oh, fuck…” You whispered, clutching your latte like it could ground you.
You stood up so fast your chair screeched against the tile, but you couldn't care. You tossed your trash, muttering to yourself the whole way out. The lobby was packed, laughter bouncing off the steel beams, glass elevators whooshing up and down, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat. You had to tell Riri. Now.
You half-jogged across the polished floors, weaving between people until you spotted her signature corn rows swiftly walking in your direction, and you nearly collided with her chest-first.
“Ri! Oh my God, you’ll never believe who I just talked to. She talked to me, actually, and we–”
Riri grabbed your arms, her grip tight enough to stop your flailing. “Look, about last night. I’m sorry. But there’s something I gotta tell you.” Her eyes darted past you, scanning the crowd.
“No, Ri, listen,” You gasped, out of breath, “it’s fine. I don’t even care about last night, okay? You don’t understand, this is huge. She was interested in our project, and I–”
“You don't get it,” She interrupted. “I’m trying to explain what happened last night. And, I’m trying to apologize for what's about to happen… right now.”
You froze. “What?”
Before you could ask again, a voice, that smooth, confident, and unmistakable accent rolled through the air behind you. “Riri, bambo'lwami…” (riri, my love)
You turned slowly.
Shuri stood a few feet away, expression unreadable, but that same smugness from moments ago glittered in her eyes.
“Unjani?” Shuri sang, her tone dripping with familiarity. “Did you miss me?” (how are you?)
Riri’s face had gone stone-cold, her jaw clenched tighter than you’d ever seen it, her eyes dark with something you couldn’t name. Anger? Anguish?
They were in the middle of a silent stare down, tension building so thick you could feel it, and it was disturbing your comfort. You weren't sure what to brace for. Riri’s lip curled, like she would pounce at any moment, and Shuri’s smirk deepened, as though she'd welcome the attack without defense. All you could do was stand there, eyes wide as confusion began to consume you.
Finally, Riri spoke, her voice deadpan as she snarled in flawless Xhosa. “Nkosazana.” (princess)
You glanced between them, heart pounding. The air felt warped, pending implosion. Shuri’s smirk hadn’t faltered, not one bit, and Riri wore that murderous expression still, fury flickering in her eyes like a storm barely leashed.
“Wait…” You swallowed hard, voice cracking through the silence. “how the hell do y’all know each other again?”
note: i had a blast writing this chapter. it's probably my favorite chapter i've written, aside from chapter 3. i love it so much please! i can't wait to hear all the feedback! riri makes me blush ahhh! anyway, hope youse enjoy!! mwah mwah!! <333
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“Come on, Ri,” Zariyah purred in that sultry way she did whenever she wanted to get her way. She lounged in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom, steam curling around her bare skin, nipple rings dazzling in the light. Her pose was deliberate, an invitation if Riri had ever received one. “I’ll wash your back. Give you a massage.”
She pushed away from the door, sauntering to the edge of the bed, still in her pursuit, determined as ever now as she'd hoped to coax her lover into the shower with her. “I’ll do that thing you like.”
It was a song Riri recognized all too well. She knew what Zariyah had been offering up, the image of the lust filled act flashing ever so briefly behind her lids. The familiarity of the sensation, elusively tempting. And on any other occasion she'd probably say yes, enthusiastically so. But not tonight. Not after what had happened downstairs. Your likeness alone had rinsed away whatever pull Zariyah’s body might have had.
“No thanks,” She hummed, light enough to pass as playful.
Riy pouted in resignation, muttering something about Riri being a buzzkill, then disappeared into the foggy bathroom.
She was grateful for the quiet, save for the hushed sound of water running against tile, but it wasn't a tough task to tune it all out. Riri rolled onto her back, the mattress sighing beneath her as she let the noise, and the scent of Riy’s floral body wash blur into static.
Her mind drifted back to you with ease, like she had never been interrupted in the first place. She used the constructed solitude to replay the night like a movie in her mind, honing in on her favorite scene.
The moment you kissed her.
You. Kissed. Her.
Like a giddy teen in love, she turned her face into the pillow, biting back the bashful grin threatening to take over. The memory sparked behind her eyes like a flare—your mouth crashing into hers, your body pressed so tightly she could hardly exhale, not that she’d wanted to. The whimper you’d let out when she touched you through your stockings. So wet, so sticky, and all for her. It’d been a thing of dreams before now, you wanting her, needing her, yearning for her. Your mouth, your heat, your hips—all of it affirming everything she’d only dared to hope.
She was high off it. Floating in it, with no plans of coming down.
The shower water still ran in the background, and she could hear Zariyah singing softly to herself as she bathed, a glaring reminder that someone else was here, another person that wanted her. But Riri didn’t care. The body in that bathroom was not the one she craved.
Riri resisted the urge to kick her feet and squeal, already tangled in the thoughts of the next time she would get to taste your tongue again. She could see it clearly, feel your fingers twisting in her shirt, her hair, your mouth moving over hers without hesitation. There would be no need to stop, no walls, no girlfriends, boyfriends, or birthdays pulling you two apart. She would savor it this time, take her time with you.
Her pulse tripped from the imagined sensation, a little rush of nerves sliding through her, but the good kind, the kind that came from wanting something so bad it made your hands itch.
She didn't even hear the water shut off when it did, hadn't noticed the thick clouds of steam billowing out from the bathroom until Zariyah cleared her throat, and Riri was forced to send her attention over to the girl standing across from her. Her red curls were damp, and she leaned against the doorframe, posing like she expected to be devoured on sight.
It was easy to decipher what Zariyah wanted, the routine carved into muscle memory by now—lingering glances, towel dropping to the floor, lips on collarbones, hands gripping skin. But Riri couldn’t summon the desire. Riri saw that hunger pooling in Riy’s eyes, but there was nothing to match it behind her own. Nothing that she could force.
She was sprawled across the king-sized bed, one arm draped across her forehead, the other resting idly against her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling.
“How was your shower?” She asked, her voice easy, like the question was an afterthought.
“Lonely,” Riy drawled as she began a slow, confident strut towards the bed, and Riri couldn't help but cringe the closer she got. “Would've been more fun if you were in there with me.”
Riri huffed out a laugh, eyes flicking over without moving her head. “We would've run up these rich people's water bill if I was in there with you.”
Riy smirked, leaning a knee onto the mattress. “How about we ruin their sheets instead?” She teased, biting her lip as she crawled closer.
Riri shifted slightly but didn’t sit up, her gaze still fixed on some invisible point above her. She already knew she wasn’t doing this tonight. “You gon be mad if I say I’m not in the mood?”
“Mad? No. Annoyed? Yes.” Riy groaned and got up, drying off with lazy swipes of her towel. “Because you fucking suck.”
“I’m sorry, Z,” Riri murmured half-heartedly, “I just… don’t got it in me tonight.”
Not for her anyway. Not when every nerve in her body was still keyed up from you.
Zariyah scoffed, pulling on a pair of panties. “Keem over there getting some pussy, but I can’t? Ain’t that some shit.”
Riri’s entire body went still.
The sheets beneath her turned cold, and she sat up slowly, vision suddenly tunneled. “W-what?”
Riri could tell Zariyah hadn't noticed the way her voice cracked as the word emerged, how wounded she sounded, she was too caught up in her skincare routine, casual as ever.
“I could hear ole girl when I was in the shower. Keem is definitely in that right now.” Riy laughed, still oblivious to the haunted look Riri was now sporting. “Happy birthday to him, I guess.”
The room dimmed. The blood drained from Riri’s face, and she couldn't hear anything else being said, just the pounding of her own heart in her ears. Loud and relentless.
You were with him?
She allowed the covers to swallow her entirely as Zariyah crawled into bed beside her, arm wrapping lazily around her middle. She smelled like eucalyptus and shea butter, and a lie Riri didn’t want to believe. Because how could you? After everything you said? After the way you looked at her like she hung the moon and the stars. After you kissed her like her lips were the only thing that could quell your agony.
After… needing you is like breathing to me.
Her monster stirred awake inside her, slinking out of the dark corner Riri usually banished him to when she was awake. He didn't creep out this time, no, he came full force, climbing right up her chest until he settled heavy in her sternum, his voice ragged and venomous as he whispered directly into her ear with no remorse.
Of course you let him touch you.
Did you really think one silly little kiss from you would be enough?
He sneered his words, and they didn't sound like questions, because she already knew the answer. Deep down she’d always known.
Riri’s eyes stayed open, unblinking against the dark as a single tear bled sideways into her pillow. Zariyah’s slow, even breathing was steady beside her, another cruel reminder that she was sharing a bed with someone she didn’t want, while the one she did want was across the hall, letting her best friend touch and taste what she had just kissed.
Maybe you deserve this.
Who goes after their best friend’s girl and expects a fairytale?
Every word was a nail driven deep into her skull. She knew she’d opened the door wide for him tonight—that kiss was an invitation—it was the key, and now, he could reach her even here, awake, sober, flat on her back in a strange bed.
This was her own doing.
Of course Hakeem was the better option. He didn't live in the shadows of his own mistakes, didn't cower away from a taunting boogeyman who thrived on his pain and fears like she did. Hakeem was good, and pure, he couldn't taint you like she would.
And maybe you saw that too, maybe the kiss made you realize the truth.
She was no good for you, no matter how much she knew you were the best thing for her.
Riri’s throat burned like she'd swallowed glass, and her stomach ached. She'd fallen from the high she’d previously been riding on, plummeted back down to earth where her dream had turned into a twisted, raw reality with shredded pieces and bloody edges.
You tried to take something that wasn’t yours, the monster cooed. Now watch him keep it.
•••
Riri rose before the sun had fully climbed the horizon, not that it mattered though, she'd barely slept through the night. Her mind was a punishing loop, keeping her awake with harrowing, imaginative stills of what you and Hakeem could be doing across the hall. But when the house finally settled into silence, there was no need to imagine anymore.
She heard it—heard you.
The truth traveled to her in the form of hushed moans. Every muffled kiss, every sharp inhale, every soft, broken whimper Hakeem pulled from your throat seeped through the walls. And she forced herself to listen, to endure the pain curling in her chest until the images in her head, and the deafening sounds echoing in her ears knotted themselves into something she knew she’d never be able to untangle.
Beside her, Zariyah's arm was slung heavy over her waist, her breath slow and warm against the back of Riri’s neck. She was careful not to wake her as she shifted, and slid out from beneath the suffocating weight, the sheets whispering against her skin as she slipped free.
The house was quiet, and the sky was still smeared in that soft, gray-blue haze of early morning. She padded down the stairs, the wood cool under her bare feet. Her plan had been simple, caffeine first, thoughts later.
But as soon as she rounded the last step, her body stiffened.
You were there, sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over your phone, a steaming mug in front of you. Your hair was slightly mussed, and you wore only a rumpled t-shirt, one Riri recognized with ease.
It was Hakeem's.
You looked up at her, and Riri felt the air freeze between you, a slow choke settling in her lungs.
Her pulse jumped, and she felt the vibration in her throat, in her fingers. She had no clue what to say, because every possibility felt wrong. You were unaware of her knowledge, about the noises from your room, about Hakeem’s voice carrying low through the walls. And she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear you lie about it if she inquired.
“You, uh… made coffee?” She questioned, her voice sounding as scratchy as her throat felt.
“Mhmm.” You nodded, gesturing toward the machine on the counter. “Took me a while to figure out how to use it but… uh… yeah.”
Riri shifted past you, resisting the magnetic pull of your perfume that called to her with every step she took. She busied herself with the machine, letting the gurgle of hot water and the sharp hiss of steam fill the silence. The ceramic was warm in her hands when she poured herself a cup, but it didn’t relax the tightness in her shoulders.
When she finally turned back to face you, she opened her mouth, ready to break the stalemate, and she noticed the way your lips parted at the same time, like you’d been working up to it too.
But before either of you could speak, footsteps creaked down the stairs, and Zariyah’s voice cut through the thick air. “That was probably the best sleep of my life,” She sang, still halfway down the steps, hair pulled up, her sweatshirt hanging loose off one shoulder. She looked straight at you, then over to Riri. “Is there more coffee left?”
And just like that, the moment was gone.
The rest of the morning blurred by with the four of you moving through the motions, tidying up the house, restuffing overnight bags, stacking empty cups and plates without much more than the usual small talk. Riri hadn’t found herself alone with you for more than a breath, not long enough for a single real word to pass between you, and she was beginning to believe this was by design.
Perhaps it was your guilt causing you to plaster yourself at your boyfriend’s side, your hand in his, your smile a little too fixed—a version of normal you were performing for the sake of the crowd.
You may have fooled everyone else, but not Riri.
She'd learned you well enough to deduce that you remaining in Hakeem's company for this long was nothing short of abnormal. The avoidance was transparent, tucked messily between the far too casual exchanges and the near-misses when your paths almost crossed but didn’t.
Riri didn't force it though, didn't linger like she usually would. Instead, she chose to observe silently, and take mental notes of the oddities she noticed in your behavior. She took it all on the chin, despite the dull ache blossoming in her chest. Eventually, she slipped outside and into the car, letting the cool air calm her nerves as she waited for the rest of you to pile in. And by the time the last bag thudded into the trunk, her hands were already firm on the wheel, ready to hit the gas the moment someone gave the word.
Zariyah climbed into the passenger seat beside her, and you and Hakeem took the back, naturally falling into each other's space. He slung an arm lazily over your shoulder, your head tilting to rest below his chin.
Riri kept her eyes on the road as she drove, jaw tight and ticking, but every once in a while she caught herself glancing at the rearview, searching for the endless orbs that belonged to you. The angle was enough for her to meet your gaze. It was intended to be a quick lock, nothing that lasted, nothing that lingered. But, as always, she ran into the same lesson she was meant to relearn every time her eyes met yours.
She never wanted to look away, she couldn't look away. It was a tug-of-war with her own body, every fiber protesting, like turning away from you might split her in two. You graced her with a small, fleeting smile before abandoning the moment, and that pesky muscle in her cheek kept on twitching.
When she inevitably pulled up to your apartment building, you and Hakeem hopped out together, thanking her, and saying your goodbyes before strutting off hand in hand. She stayed parked longer than she meant to, idling behind, watching you walk towards the lobby doors. Hakeem leaned in to murmur something in your ear, and Riri watched as you threw your head back, your laugh spilling into the air. To her, it all felt so deliberate, like you were taunting her, pressing her face into it the way you’d scold an unruly animal.
But, was this not to be her punishment?
“We going? I gotta be at work by one,” Zariyah’s voice cut through her haze, making her blink.
“Yeah,” Riri muttered, eyes still trained on you and her best friend until you disappeared inside completely. Her fingers flexed against the steering wheel, and she shifted the car into drive. “Let's go.”
•••
After she dropped Riy off at home, Riri headed straight to the only place she knew would offer solitude.
The garage smelled like hot metal and motor oil upon entry, familiar scents that always grounded her. Riri stood in the center of her equipment for a second, just taking it all in. She was surrounded by the skeleton of her Mark III suit, suspended titanium hanging from hooks, and wiring guts spilled across her worktable. She basked in the quiet. It was different here, all encompassing, but in no way suffocating. It loosened her muscles, de-fogged her brain.
The silence in here didn't demand anything of her—she could just be.
Riri stepped over a stray torque wrench on the floor, weaving between crates of scrap metal and prototype parts until she reached her workbench. She dropped into her chair, and kicked it back with one foot so it would roll into position. The stool squeaked under her as she leaned forward, elbowing a clutter of socket heads and microprocessors to the side so she could set down her laptop.
She lifted the suit’s chest plate onto the table, and dragged her palm across the cool metal, tracing every scratch and scuff embedded into the material with a little smirk playing on her lips. She then spun to grab her welding mask from its hook, and snapped it in place.
Mask down, torch in hand, Riri wasted no time vaulting headfirst into her work. The world had dimmed around her, like it always did when she fell into her element, the hiss of tools drowning everything else out. Sparks flew, bouncing off her forearms in sharp bursts as she welded two plates along the shoulder of her armor, creating clean seams, closed and perfect, like it hadn't been damaged on her last mission at all.
Then, she swapped the torch for her laptop, removing her mask entirely, and powered it on. A flick of her fingers brought the screen to life, along with the AI framework she’d borrowed from Shuri.
Or, at least the guts of it. Riri had stripped Griot all the way down to its raw code, studying the intricacies like they were written scripture. She still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to walk out of Wakanda with it without Shuri noticing, but the silence since then had been telling. If the princess had noticed, she clearly wasn’t losing sleep over it. Then again, Shuri never really lost sleep over much, especially these days.
She shook her head hard, doing away with the image of Shuri in her mind. She wasn't here to daydream about complicated people she had no business wanting—exes included. She was here to work and lose herself in her creations, the most important one being developing her own AI. She wanted something that differed vastly from Griot, something sharper, something that was distinctly hers.
Riri wanted her AI to think with her, not just for her, and that meant mapping the inner workings of her brain, down to the finest signal. She clipped a bundle of wires to a half-built neural interface, connected them to her computer, and then, she taped the opposite ends of the cords to her temple, flinching slightly at the sting of electricity. The processor was humming to life soon after, running initial scans, reading the quickfire synapses and patterns of her brain.
And as she sat there, arms folded as she waited, Riri became a victim of sleep’s undertaking. She hadn't noticed her eyelids growing heavier, hadn't paid attention to the way the gentle vibrations against her skull had begun to lull her. If she had, she would have forced her body to protest, but it was too late. The line between focus and fatigue blurred, and somewhere between a blink and a breath, she drifted under.
The garage dissolved around her, leaving in its place, the sharp, metallic scent of blood in the air. The screech of tires on asphalt. A hollow, ringing silence that came after the screaming stopped. She couldn't recognize Natalie’s laughter anymore, couldn't find her father's voice. That day replayed, merciless in its clarity, every painful, disorienting frame seared into her tendons.
For a moment, she just sat there. Immobile. Unblinking. She wanted to scream, but her throat burned hot, rendering her speechless, and helpless.
She couldn't help them.
She didn't help them.
Shame crept in first, and she knew he wasn't too far behind. Her monster. He didn't seem to be in a rush—he knew the process. The slower he edged in, the messier her mind would be, and the more devastation he had to feast on. He made her do all the work for him, dragging herself through that nightmarish loop, until she was raw enough for him to step in and gorge on what was left.
His voice curled around her, dark and smug like thick smoke.
Building your little toys will never make you forget.
You didn't help them.
You let them die.
His words filled the empty spaces inside her that she couldn't protect, where her doubts thrived, and her self image lived fractured. They hadn't been loud, but boy were they strong, packing a force almost powerful enough to cause her irreparable, internal wreckage.
Do you really think it was fair that you got to survive?
And in the way only he could, he made the grief and the guilt indistinguishable, one long ache she’d carry until he decided she didn’t have to anymore.
What would they say if they knew about your current proclivities? Wanting what isn't yours?
It was then that she jolted awake, attempting to claw herself free from her monster’s thorny grasp. Her chest was heaving, her skin was damp with a cold sweat that made her feel like she took a dive in the deep end and almost drowned.
The essence of the nightmare lasted still. It twisted around her ribs like barbed wire, sharp enough to puncture flesh every time she exhaled.
Her monster lingered too. She could hear the echo of his voice from where he retreated to in the back of her skull. Smug and satisfied he was, leaving her dizzy, her head tilting forward as if the weight of it might topple her.
The sharp beep-beep-beep of her computer aided in yanking her further from the darkness, but not all the way. Her hands still flexed against her thighs, searching for something—anything—to anchor her back in her own body. She swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in her lungs.
And then, in the midst of it all, she found you.
Not here, not physically, but in her mind, you bloomed. Your lips emerged first, the fire-soft press of them against hers, still vivid enough that Riri swore she could taste you if she tried. Your smile was next. That quick, shy curve that destroyed her willfully each time she witnessed it. And your eyes—fuck, your endless eyes—pools of chocolate that seemed to melt just for her, even though you’d probably deny that to be true if she asked.
You hadn't appeared as just a distraction; you were a tether. And she let you lead her out of the nightmare, back into the rhythm of the real world. She felt her pulse begin to slow. Her breathing evened out, and she leaned back in her chair, allowing your lasting essence to soothe her entirely.
You were her center—the one thing that could pull her from the carnage.
Usually, Riri hated how easy it was for you to wreck her equilibrium without even being in the same room, but right now, she was beyond grateful for it as she blinked the world around her back into focus. The garage took shape again, cold concrete floors, the faint whirring of her machines, the sharp tang of burning plastic riding the air.
Her gaze panned down to the source of the acrid scent: her laptop, smoking like an angry tea kettle.
“Shit, shit, shit!” She hissed, yanking the melting wires from her forehead and tossing them aside before shutting the entire system down. The AI attempt was fried—again.
Riri sighed, and sat back, watching as a thin swirl of gray vapor drifted toward the ceiling.
Not her first crash-and-burn, and she knew it wouldn’t be her last, but still, she couldn't pretend she wasn't annoyed. She decided then, that it was time to close up shop.
Hours had passed without her noticing, and when she finally glanced outside, the sky was swallowed by darkness. She was still in a haze when she got up, trying to tidy up the best she could, though, she quite liked her clutter—everything was always where she left them when it became time to find them again. Riri killed the lights, allowing the shadows circling around her to reclaim the corners once more. And then she grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder as she stepped out into the cool of the night.
The air was sharper outside, the kind that woke you up whether you wanted it to or not, but Riri definitely wanted it to. As she approached her car, she caught her reflection in the tinted window. Her face stared back at her, eyes tired, rimmed red, slight bags forming under them. She exhaled shakily, almost amused at how bad she looked, like her guilt had started painting itself on her skin for everyone to see.
Still, she got in the car, tossed her bag into the back seat, and started the engine. It thrummed to life, filling the previous silence, and with nothing else to focus on as she drove, Riri’s mind wandered where it always went—back to you.
And now, she had something much more than stolen moments in apartment lobbies and libraries to anchor herself to.
A kiss.
A kiss that flipped her world on its axis.
She didn't want to lose that feeling. Despite the shame knotting in her stomach, despite knowing what it meant and who it hurt, she couldn’t sever that connection.
What would Nat think of all this? Something Riri found herself wondering about constantly. She would probably smack her upside the head initially. Tell her how fucked it was to want your best friend’s girl.
She could hear her now.
“Ri are you crazy?! She’s dating your friend? Like in a relationship, dating?! And you tryna fuck on her? I don't know, that's kinda…”
“You need your brain rewired. But then again… this does not surprise me.”
But under it all, Riri knew there’d be understanding there. Nat knew the way the heart bent logic all out of shape sometimes. She was always good for offering sympathy and judgment all in the same breath. The thought made her laugh a little, until her dad’s face appeared in her mind, and she stilled.
His image was heavier, his disappointment more tangible than Nat’s. He would like Hakeem, no doubt. Maybe even love him. And Riri wasn’t ready to touch the weight of that truth. Not yet.
So she went back to you, and she let the memory of your mouth and touch guide her. The streets rolled by without her noticing, block after block after block of blurred streetlights and passing cars, until she blinked and realized where she’d ended up.
Parked outside your apartment, like you’d summoned her directly to you.
•••
Riri sat low in the driver’s seat, hood pulled over her head, one hand drumming on the steering wheel while the other held her phone. The azure glow from the screen painted her face, leaving it as the only part of her body illuminated in the near pitch black of the parking lot, save for the occasional flickering street light overhead.
Her knee was bouncing in rhythm with the car’s engine as she stared at the message she'd typed and sent.
Riri: you up?
You’d read it six minutes ago and counting, with no reply.
Her jaw flexed. Her eyes flicked from the screen to your building, tracing the familiar outline of your bedroom window. Soft yellow light spilled through the glass, mocking her almost. She knew you were awake. She could just picture you in there, barefoot, probably curled up on your bed in a cute little lounge set, scrolling through your phone.
So why weren’t you answering?
She slouched deeper into the seat, staring through her windshield at the building. What the hell was she even doing here? She told herself it wasn’t intentional, she just… ended up here by happenstance. The steering wheel had a mind of its own, the universe made it so. Or any other bullshit excuse she could think of to shift the blame away from herself.
But she knew the truth. Her body, mind, and heart knew she wanted to be here. She needed to be here, needed to see you.
She wouldn't be able to ease her nerves if a conversation about everything that happened last night wasn't had. Riri wasn't keen on loose ends, or miscommunication. She needed to know where the two of you stood.
So here she was, parked outside your place in low light, waiting for you to acknowledge her text message, and her existence alike.
Maybe Hakeem was up there, lying in bed with you, and that's why you couldn't text back. But she hadn't seen his car outside. She'd scoped the scene out as she pulled in, and she knew he wasn't here. Which left only the conclusion that you didn't want to talk to her. The thought made her audibly gulp, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, adjusting her hoodie as if trying to hide herself out of sheer embarrassment.
But then, just as her phone screen was about to dim, and go out completely, it buzzed in her palm, reviving the brightness once more.
You: a ‘you up’ text? seems a bit cliché, no?
Her heart lurched, before taking off on a full blown sprint down the road, and Riri huffed a laugh. That stupid grin was already spreading across her face, and she didn't even try to stop it.
Was this you… teasing her?
Riri: i’ll take that as a yes
Your reply came almost instantly this time.
You: yeah, i am up actually. i’m working on our presentation for the delta lab symposium that's coming up. you know, the one we’re supposed to be doing together? 🙄
Riri: oh yeah, i keep forgetting about that
Riri: but anyway, i’m outside
She anticipated the pause that followed. The bubbles at the bottom of her screen appeared, then vanished. Appeared again. Vanished again.
She chuckled, and shook her head. “So this how we playing this?”
And then…
You: do you know what time it is? why are you outside my apartment?
She responded without the slightest bit of hesitation.
Riri: sooo, are you coming down, or no?
More bubbles. Disappearing. Coming back. Disappearing again. Longer than before this time, and Riri felt like she was watching paint dry.
Five minutes went by, seven, nine, eleven.
Her mind ran to the worst case scenario. Maybe you’d realized how fucked this all was, blocked her number, and went to sleep. Why else would you stop replying so abruptly?
Maybe you–
You: fine.
She exhaled hard, like someone had punched all the air from her lungs, and she felt her jaw loosen, doing away with the previous tick that she thought to be permanent. She felt her smile stretching, unfurling into something uncontainable, so she bit down hard on her knuckle to keep it from spreading. Her eyes traveled to the front doors excitedly, and she waited impatiently until she saw them slide open, and you step out into the night.
•••
The first thing you said upon entering Riri’s car was, “Hi,” after closing the door with a slight thud.
It was a murmur, though she heard it just fine, and she internalized that singular word. But the thing she struggled to do next was offer up a response. She was too transfixed by the picture of you being here, right next to her in real time, to speak. You slid into her car with effortless grace, carrying a rush of warm air and the heady pull of your signature perfume, stronger now than she’d ever been lucky enough to breathe in.
Smoky vanilla and saffron.
A combination concocted by the heavens, made specifically for you to wield against her, to keep her spellbound like she currently was. Bereft of speech, and autonomy. You could immobilize her with just your scent alone. If only you knew the power you held over her, how much she'd let you get away with without objection.
It took her eons to respond, and when she finally did, she blurted the only thing on her mind. “You smell so fucking good.”
“Thanks…” You chuckled gently, shifting so your palms were now tucked under your thighs. “I was expecting like a hey back or something, but that works too, I guess.”
Riri detected a hint of nerves beneath your laugh, and her lips twitched. Even subdued, she could still make you blush.
“Never really been a fan of small talk.” She declared, eyeing you up and down.
You scrunched your nose, smiling, “What kind of talk are you a fan of then?”
Her own smile curved halfway, “Mmm… you don't want me to answer that.”
The two of you fell into a fit of laughter, effortless and refreshing. She let the sound of your giggles loiter in her head, playing it on loop even after it had diminished in real time. God, she would never get over how good it felt to make you laugh, the times it happened were few and far between, but she knew she wanted to keep doing it.
“You're probably right about that.” You adjusted in your seat next to her, pulling the hem of your pajama shorts down and over your thigh.
Riri’s eyes dipped down immediately, locking onto your barren flesh, examining your body for a moment too long, before she dragged them back up to meet your gaze. “Nice pajamas.”
She'd been so bewitched by your fragrance when you first got inside the car, that she hadn't even paid attention to your attire. Well, not enough anyway. Your pajamas were fairly modest. Grey crop top, loose fitting grey shorts tied lazily at your waist, and an oversized zip up hoodie of the same color that was failing terribly at its job to keep you covered up.
She was trying not to stare, though resistance proved to be difficult. Every time you moved even a little, the fabric sticking to your body would ride up. Her pulse would skip, her eyes kept flicking back to your legs, fixating on the subtle flex of your stomach.
You didn't just look good, you looked touchable. And fuck, it was killing her not to. She wanted to reach out, and run her nails along your velvety, deep brown skin. Drag her fingers down your shoulders, your forearms, your thighs. Eventually, they’d wander inwards, drawn to your core’s heat, stopping only if you’d asked. But Riri had a feeling you wouldn't ask.
“You like my pajamas?” You questioned, voice flat and unimpressed.
“Yeah. They're cute. I like how they look on you.”
You rolled your eyes, “So, that why you came over here? To tell me you like how my pajamas look on me?”
“No,” Riri shook her head, biting her lip as she stared at you. “I came to tell you I wanna see what they look like off you. Pretty sure I’d like that waaay more.”
There was that laugh of yours again, so infectious. “You always been this corny?”
Riri nodded, “Been a certified cornball my entire life baby. Got no shame in it.”
“You don't got no shame about nothin’, that's ya damn problem.”
“I’m sure it is.” She chuckled. “I think I’ll be alright though.”
The quiet that followed wasn’t awkward, not really. It was the kind that made the air buzz, the kind where every unspoken thing between you pressed at the edges of the conversation, just waiting for their day in the sun. Riri’s knee was bouncing, but she swore it wasn’t from nerves, it was energy. You were right there, close enough to kiss if she just leaned in. And she wanted to. Badly. Her eyes fell to your lips, studying their perfect, permanent pout. But she stopped herself, finding your face again.
Not yet.
“This gonna be a regular thing now?” You were drawing circles on your thighs with your thumb, bashfully averting her gaze.
Riri raised an eyebrow, “Define this.”
She was curious to know your answer, though she had little hope it’d be the thing she wanted to hear.
You cleared your throat nervously, then chewed on your lip a little before answering, “This being you texting me, and showing up here in the middle of the night.”
Riri shrugged, “Depends on if that's how you want this to go.”
You turned to look at her, eyes catching, and she unearthed curiosity in your irises, maybe even a twinge of uncertainty.
“Is that how you want this to go?” She quizzed again, needing you to heed the urgency in her tone without seeming desperate.
“I don't know.”
She figured you'd say that. It was the truth afterall, and she couldn't blame you for speaking it, even if it did sting a little in the ears.
Her eyes softened the longer she sat there studying you, and her heart hurt as she began picking apart every flicker of expression on your face. Your mind was moving fast, spinning out of control, searching for a semblance of rationale that you would never discover. So she decided to offer what she could instead.
Her hand slid across the car’s center console, fingers brushing yours before curling around them, fitting between them like they were meant to meet. And the spark was instant, surging up her arm, and burrowing deep into her chest. “How are you feeling?”
She asked the question without malice, hoping you'd appreciate the sincerity.
“Still trying to figure that out too,” You admitted, voice low. “It feels like every cell in my body is on fire, and I can’t put them out.”
Riri’s brows lifted a bit, “Do you want to? Put the fire out I mean.”
“Some days, yes. Others, no.”
“What about right now?” She asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.
You took your time answering the question, your contemplation forcing the silence between you two to simmer. It made Riri begin to question if she'd pushed too far, but then–
“No.”
She breathed out, almost triumphantly, nodding along with your answer. She hoped you'd say that, so she could lay that tiny sliver of doubt in the back of her head to rest.
“How come.”
The way you looked at her now, with your skin bathed in moonlight, and your umber orbs leaking innocence, she felt like a fool for even asking, when the answer was so painstakingly evident.
“Because,” You began, eyes dropping to her lips for half a second, maybe less than that, before you brought them back up to bore into her soul once more, “my fire burns hottest when I’m around you. But it doesn't hurt. It's comforting. Grounding. Steadies me when I start to tilt.”
Riri stayed silent, allowing you to get it all out, the words she’d been dying to hear you fess up to for months. She hadn't anticipated how difficult they would be to hear though. Not because they hurt, but because each one was like a lightning bolt to her flesh, charging her up so much that she thought she would combust.
“I think–” You exhaled, flailing a bit as you tried to find the right words, “I think my fire burns for you, Riri, not because of you.”
Her mouth curved, and a laugh slipped out. Not mocking, but totally sardonic in that true Riri Williams fashion, “What’s the difference?”
She watched you suppress a grin, and bite back your blush before you started speaking, “The difference is…” You shifted your attention down to where your fingers interlocked, making it your focal point as you continued, “When a fire burns for a person, it's not destructive. It's not meant to consume you. It's meant to keep them warm, keep them safe.”
“I make you feel safe?” Riri’s breath hitched on the end of her sentence, and her voice cracked. Your words had slipped into her fortitude, and broke something open. She wasn't used to hearing things like that, quite the opposite actually. You had no idea what it did to her to be told she was good for someone, that she could provide safety in this perilous world.
You nodded, biting your lip like a seductress. “Mhmm.”
She swallowed, her thumb unconsciously stroking over the back of your hand. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me right now,” She murmured, and it wasn’t meant to come out as desperate and damaged as it did.
Your head tilted slightly, eyes glittering in the dim light. “Maybe I do.”
That made her laugh, low, under her breath, the kind that formed in her gut. “See, this is why you're dangerous,” She said, shaking her head but unable to stop herself from leaning in a fraction closer. “You sitting there, looking like that, talking like that. What exactly do you expect me to do in this situation?”
“You showed up outside my building in the middle of the night, and I’m the dangerous one? Yeah… okay.” You teased, causing her to grin.
It spread lazily across her lips before she licked them, like she was savoring the taste of the truth in the air. “Touché.”
The tension between you two was supercharged, like a live, exposed wire one spark away from snapping, and causing everything to go up in flames. Riri’s heartbeat was a baseline in her ears now, deep and steady, a tick louder than the music playing in the background. Your gaze made her skin prickle, like you were reading through her, documenting answers you didn't have to ask for. That damn vanilla perfume was beginning to permeate her pores, her nostrils, settling into her veins, and traveling throughout her entire nervous system.
She'd never done fentanyl before, not her drug of choice, but if she had to infer, she’d say the sensation was akin to what she felt right now.
Once again, she felt herself longing for your glossed lips. Did you taste as delicious as you smelled right now? Though she already knew the answer was yes, it wouldn't hurt to double check, right?
You twisted your body to face her even more, and it felt deliberate.
Riri followed suit, inching in so she was nearer to you, fingers still intertwined, her shoulder pressing into yours as if trying to consume some of your flames.
Her voice dropped to something more sultry, more breathy, more needy, “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”
Your smirk was small and taunting, as you whispered, “What's gonna happen next?”
She didn't answer right away. She wanted to savor the sweetness of this moment, make it stretch, make it last. Your mouth was merely a breath away from hers, and you had the devil dancing in your irises, confessing to her that you were prepared to experience the unholiest of things with her. And Riri needed to take a snapshot of this moment to hold onto forever.
As badly as she wanted to close the gap between you and her, to prove last night wasn’t some fluke or mistake, she knew she couldn't. Not with the memory of those sounds—those soft, airy noises you’d made for Hakeem—flashing uninvited across her mind. She pulled back just enough to breathe, forcing her expression to stay unreadable.
And instead of leaning in, she leaned back, and broke the silence with a casual, “We should probably talk about last night.”
You turned your head toward her, your expression impassive under the wash of streetlight through the windshield. “I thought that’s what we were doing…”
“Not in so many words,” She countered.
“Okay…”
The change was immediate. The way your voice turned deadpan, your shoulders tensed, a ripple of stiffness she could feel beneath her palm. You angled your face away from hers, breaking that thin electric thread that always thrummed between you, and her stomach dropped just a little at the loss.
She gave your hand a little squeeze of reassurance, wanting to still hold tight to you as her tether, but she had no idea if it landed. “You kissed me last night,” Riri said, voice careful. “Said a lot of things we didn't really get a chance to unpack.”
That was when you slipped your hand away from hers. Not a snatch, not angry, just… gone. And of course the absence of you stung, even if it was just your hand. Her stomach twisted. Your profile in the passenger seat was shillouetted, the glow from the dashboard catching on your cheekbone and the corner of your mouth. She wanted to cup your face, force you to look at her, but instead she stayed still.
You let out a faint laugh—sharp, disbelieving—and muttered something under your breath.
“What was that?” Riri questioned, furrowing her brows.
You cut your eyes at her, squinting ever so slightly, “I said. I wonder why we never got that chance.”
A flicker of irritation batted inside her chest. Why did it sound like you were annoyed with her? If anything, shouldn’t she be the one holding onto a grudge?
“Maybe because your boyfriend interrupted us,” Riri shot back. “And we were at his birthday party, where there were guests.”
“We could’ve talked afterwards,” You countered, heat edging your voice. “When everyone left. I actually expected us to. But you had an important shower to get to, remember? With your girlfriend?”
“What?” She asked, sharper now.
“You left me to go upstairs and shower with Zariyah. What, you got amnesia now?” You rolled your eyes, fiddling with your fingernails.
Riri let out a breath of disbelief, barely containing her own annoyance. “You know, I wish I had amnesia, actually. That way I would forget the sound of your boyfriend making you come all night long.”
All the color drained from your face, replaced by shame instead, “What– You heard–”
“Yeah,” She cut in without hesitation, leaning back just slightly, like putting physical space between the two of you might keep her from unraveling. “I heard you last night. Not like you was tryna be quiet.”
You hadn't said anything, just fixed your eyes on something far away, near the tree line in the distance. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. How did the two of you always manage to turn everything into an argument?
You swallowed hard, still not looking at her, “I just find it funny how you can fuck your girlfriend in the shower all you want, but I can’t–”
“I ain't fuck nobody last night,” Riri declared, her voice stern like a warning. “Let's get that clear.”
You head snapped towards her in a flash, “But I thought–”
“Yeah, you thought wrong.” Riri finally relaxed in her seat again, exhaling slow. “Look, I don't wanna fight, okay? That's not why I came here. I just wanna… figure all this out. I’m sorry.”
Your gaze softened a fraction, but your voice stayed sharp. “I only did it because I thought–”
That stopped her cold. Your confession landed in her chest, and unspooled something tight that she had never considered before. Jealousy, she realized—you’d been jealous. And you ran to Hakeem to try and quell it. Riri shouldn't be happy about that truth, her actions had pushed you into the arms of another. She should be furious. Hurt. And she was before, but now, she couldn't stifle the smirk breaking across her face.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Riri?” You scolded, catching her smize before it left her eyes. “You're smiling about that? Really?”
“No, I’m not.” She protested quickly, but her lips had yet to fall back into a straight line.
You laughed, embarrassed. “Oh goodness, you are unbelievable.”
And boy was she ecstatic to hear that glorious sound again.
“Look,” She said, her voice dipping, “I know how complicated this is…”
“Yeah,” You agreed softly.
“But,” She leaned in slightly, “I think we can make it work.”
Your brow furrowed. “How?”
Riri moved back, patted her lap. “Come here.”
“Like… in your lap?”
“No, on my face,” She teased without missing a beat, delighting in the way your body stalled, the way your lips parted like you weren’t sure if you’d heard her right. “Girl, if you don’t come over here, I ain't playing this game with you tonight.”
“Okay, okay, damn.” You giggled, climbing over the console. Your thigh brushed her arm, and your ass hit the horn by accident, the sound blaring through the quiet parking lot before you both burst out laughing.
“You gotta be careful dragging all that ass around,” Riri grinned, biting her lip as she caught you by the hips, then grabbing two greedy handfuls before pulling you down so you straddled her. “Might cause an earthquake.”
“Shut the fuck up, Riri. God!” You cackled, burying your face deep in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, and Riri had to battle the urge not to moan right there.
She didn’t tease you about how your warm cheeks sizzled her skin. Instead, she slid a hand up to cup your jaw, coaxing you to look at her. “I meant what I said last night. I can make all of this worth it, if you let me.”
Your eyes danced over hers, “How?”
Riri lowered the tone of her voice to something more intimate, more deliberate. “Do you trust me?”
You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for her. “No, I need to hear you say it. Do you trust me?”
“I shouldn't, but I do,” You inhaled shakily, “I trust you, Riri.”
The sound of it made her pulse kick up, heat pooling in her stomach, and she smirked slow. “Good.”
And then she kissed you.
•••
The kiss was not soft, or tentative—it was a collision, a great release, like both of you had been holding your breath for far too long, and finally dared to exhale. Your mouth was warm and faintly sweet, the vanilla from your perfume somehow blossoming on her tongue. Her fingers slid into your freshly washed hair, tugging and gripping just enough to keep you where she needed you.
You kissed her back just as violently, like you meant to take something, anything—everything from her, and she handed it all over without pause. Your mouth was hot, pliant, hungry against hers, your breath unsteady when Riri tilted her head to deepen the kiss, tongue sweeping over yours in slow, determined strokes that made you moan into her throat.
She didn’t even realize she’d pulled you tighter in her lap until your chest was flush to hers, your knees bracketing her hips. One hand stayed tangled in your hair, the other slid down your side, over the curve of your waist, fingers skimming under the hem of your pajama top until she felt skin. Warm, soft, intoxicating skin.
She let her fingertips map you like she had all the time in the world, trailing up your ribs, dipping around to your back, sliding lower again until her palm cupped your ass, and she felt a shiver run through you.
God, you were making little noises in the back of your throat—the kind that set her blood on fire, all for her and no one else. And she chased every sound, every stuttered exhale, until it was hard to tell whose breathing was more ragged.
Her mouth left yours only long enough to kiss the corner of it, then your jaw, then drag down to the soft, warm line of your throat. She felt you tilt your head back, granting her permission to keep going, and she smirked as she watched your pulse jump.
Riri’s teeth grazed along your neck, tempted to bite, to suck, but she was smarter than that.
And so were you, apparently, because you pulled back just enough to whisper a breathy, broken warning, “N-No hickies, please…”
“That's fine,” She chuckled, running her wet tongue languidly up the column of your throat. “There are other ways for me to mark my territory.”
When she found your mouth again, she was hungrier, insatiable. She was sure she’d never get enough, not in this lifetime, maybe not the next.
The Bryson Tiller song in the background was barely recognizable now, nothing more than a bass line syncing with her own heartbeat. All she could register was you. The press of your thighs around her hips, the slick slide of your tongue against hers, the way you were holding her face now like you were afraid she’d vanish if you let go.
And maybe she would’ve, if she were with anyone else.
Your whines were starting to get softer, more desperate and frequent, and Riri knew exactly what that meant. She let her fingers breach the waistband of your shorts, teetering lower and lower, waiting for just a hint of protest. But it never came.
Instead, you rocked your hips against her, pressing yourself harder into her thigh, and she used her free hand to guide you.
There was nothing subtle about your movements, nothing subtle about the way your breath was hitching as you rode her, and when you broke the kiss to drop your head to her shoulder, she just about fractured inside.
“Yeah,” She murmured into your hair, smug and reverent, “I know, baby. I know what you want.”
Your hips stuttered at that, and she smirked against your temple. She slid her hand fully into your shorts, surprised at the absence of underwear, and the vast ocean her fingers were now swimming in, a hint of pride blooming near her heart. “You gon let me give it to you?”
When you nodded your head along her neck, Riri felt triumphant. She had you right where she wanted you, and she wouldn't let you slip away so easily, not like she did last night.
“Turn around for me.”
You hesitated, blinking at her like you weren’t sure you heard her right. “Turn…?”
“Yeah,” She whispered, smoothing her hands up and down your thighs. “Back to my chest.”
You hesitated, only for a beat before moving. The motion was sort of clumsy in the cramped space of the car, your legs brushing hers, your knee catching the console, and you huffed out in quiet frustration. She almost laughed at how cute you were, but decided against it. When you finally settled with your back pressed to her front, she hooked her chin over your shoulder, pinning you to her.
The shift pulled your pajama top up just enough for your bare breasts to kiss the air, and like magnets, her hot hands were drawn to them. “Tell me to stop if this isn't what you want.”
You whimpered, the sound like music to her ears as you replied, “This– This is what I want.”
The encouragement only egged her on. Riri kept a handful of your left breast in one hand, tweaking and pinching your nipple, taking pride in the way you squirmed for her. The other crept down your abdomen, labored in its trek, stopping short just as she reached the waistband of your pajama bottoms. Her eyes found yours in the rear view mirror, assessing how blown your pupils were, how wrecked you looked already. She’d barely touched you, yet you were so far gone.
“How bout this,” Her fingers dipped past the elastic of your shorts with slow intent, still taking in your reflection with her gaze. “You want this too?”
“Yes…” You breathed, like you were on your last, and you were granting her permission to revive you with her touch.
That was all the confirmation Riri needed. She dove in fully, cupping the wet heat that had been waiting for her. Her thumb swiped across your slippery clit, and she just about passed out from the slickness. This is what she felt last night through your stockings, the stickiness she'd been feening for ever since.
You jolted at the first burst of contact, hips jerking forward instinctively. She smiled against your neck, dragging her nose along your jaw as her hand molded itself to you, massaging your sensitive bud in smooth, slow circles.
“This…” Riri muttered, her own breathing labored, “This is what I meant when I said I could make all this worth it.” Her hand moved lower, two fingers inching closer to and circling your dripping hole, before sinking in completely. “And I ain't just talking bout my hands–” Her digits flexed, catching that spot that made you exhale as she thrusted them in and out, in, and out. “I’m talking about learning you, knowing you. Like really knowing you, anticipating everything you need without you having to say it.”
“If you let me, that is.” She nibbled on your ear, letting the flurries of her words kiss your cheeks, and she watched you thrash each time she pulled her fingertips out just long enough for you to miss them. You were moaning loudly, barely able to keep your eyes open the deeper she fucked you. A gorgeous sight, one she'd fantasized about countless times, but it wouldn’t do in this scenario.
“Keep those eyes on me, baby.”
And you obeyed, somewhat reluctant as you trailed your gaze up to the rear view mirror to find hers, and Riri smirked. “Good girl.”
You were melting into her, thighs twitching against the seat, your voice breaking on a soft, “Ri…”
She could tell you wanted more, and in due time you would receive it, but she still had to have her fun in the meantime. She'd waited months for something like this to happen, and she was going to make sure it lasted, make sure your sweet essence had seeped fully into her system before she stopped.
“You don't know how long I’ve waited to hear you say my name like that,” She put more pressure on your clit, pressing in firm enough for you to cry out. “How many nights I got myself off to the thought alone.”
You bucked your hips, and your back lifted off her chest, like your body was running behind the contact.
Riri smiled to herself as she centered you in her lap once more, looping an arm around your middle to keep you still and flush against her, and then she continued, “I prayed for this to be my reality, prayed for you to be mine.”
Her expert digits stretched you wide, splashing around in your wetness as you dripped for her. Riri let out her own string of curses at how fucking tight you were, you were sucking her fingers into your deepness, swallowing her knuckles with your cunt. And shit, it felt sooo damn good.
“You're with me now, but I’m not sure if I have you.” She stared at you, memorizing your reflection. Every crease in your forehead, how your lips parted as you gasped for her. “Do I?”
You bobbed your head, gripping onto the driver’s door with a shaking hand as a means to keep steady. She fucked you hard, her strokes gaining speed as you wiggled in her arms, cry after cry echoing throughout her car. It was a good thing she had tints, she wasn't too keen on the idea of any random passerby witnessing you in this state.
Your pussy wept for her, streams and streams of slick gushing out as she knocked her digits into your nerves, and she wasn't confident in your ability to hold it for much longer.
“Words baby,” Riri corrected, thumbing your clit in tandem with her thrusts, “Need to hear you say it.”
“Do I have you?”
“Fuck, Riri! Yes, you h-have me!”
That made her tender heart flutter, that unabashed confirmation. “I don't care how messy this is, or how wrong it is, who it might hurt,” She breathed into your ear, continuing her steady strokes. “I want all of it. All of you. Even the parts you try to hide.”
You gasped, your hole clenching around her two fingers as an indicator. Your body was telling on you now, back arching, lips quivering. Riri sat up, embedding her chest to your back, and she was certain you could feel how fast her heart was hammering, maybe even hear it—she could certainly hear yours.
“I’m not selfless,” She admitted, voice shaking with something more dangerous than lust. “I know I want you selfishly. In every way you’ll let me have you. But I swear–” Her strokes were picking up, pulling more desperate grunts from you “This ain't a game to me. All I want is to make you feel good, always.
Mind, and body.”
“No one else can give you that. And no one else will.”
Another shattered gasp slipped past your lips, and she tightened her arm around your ribs, locking you in place. “I just need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me you want that too.”
You sobbed, biting your lip as you eyed her in the mirror, “I-I want that, so-so bad–”
“Yeah?” She fucked her fingers into you, with more precision now, knowing how close you were. “Tell me you need it.” Your pussy was begging her for more, and Riri was prepared to give, and give, and give. “Tell me you can't fucking live without it.”
She hissed those last words, plowing into you with ruthless vigor. Your tits were bouncing, wetness splashing all over her seat, but she couldn’t care less. She was hypnotized by the vision reflected back at her in the mirror, captivated by your fucked out features.
“I need it, Ri!” You wailed, writhing uncontrollably in her arms as you approached your impending climax. “Fuck, oh I– I need you, can't live without you! Riri, please oh my god!”
Satisfied with your declaration, Riri pressed hot, wet kisses into the back of your neck, coaxing your orgasm to the forefront with her thumb, “Come on, beautiful, don't run away from this. I know how bad you want it, how much you deserve it.”
She could hear your voice giving out, feel your walls flex around her. “Give into that fire and come for me. Come all over me baby. Make a mess on my seat.”
“Mmmm, Ri… I… Fuck me!”
One last stroke had you gushing onto the fingers she had buried deep inside you. You were twitching, barely awake as you went limp in her arms, and she rubbed circles into your back to soothe you. “That was so fucking good baby. You did so good. M’so proud of you.”
Riri eased her cum covered fingers out of your pussy, lifting them to her lips, making eye contact with you in the mirror as she sucked them clean. You tasted holy. Like heaven, like the universe, your flavor painting galaxies behind her lids. She watched cheekily as you shied away from her lewd act, groaning in embarrassment and tucking your face into the crook of her neck.
“Don't be getting all shy now,” She cooed against your face, voice still rough from everything she’d just done to you. “You made the mess. I just cleaned it up.”
You rolled on your side, half covering your face with your hands like you could hide from her. “Oh my god, stop talking.”
Riri laughed, the sound quiet and self-satisfied, but it faded into something more serious as her gaze lingered on you. Your hair was a little messy and sweated out, lips pouty and bruised, and your perfume still fogged the car’s air.
Perhaps that was why her next question came with such ease. “Do you regret it?”
It was a meek sound, a little wounded as her insecurities weighed her words down. But here, in the afterglow, she couldn't shake the desire to know.
You turned to her then, “Look at me, Ri,” cupping her cheek in gentle reassurance. It was a struggle to meet your eyeline, probably because she feared your divulgence, but your request had been so delicate, she couldn't avoid your stare for too long.
“I don't regret it. Not any of it,” You stated it like a fact, making her heart pang. “I know I should, because I know what this means, and there's no taking any of this back. But I don't regret you, Riri.”
And you pulled her close, meshing your lips to hers. It was a brief kiss, but it left her lightheaded all over again.
When you pulled away, she let out a quiet breath of relief. “So we’re really doing this.”
“We’re really doing this,” You echoed back.
Something new clogged the air—acknowledgement. And the two of you sat in it for a little while longer, soaking it up, because you were right—there was no taking any of this back.
Eventually you both stepped out, with Riri insisting on walking you back inside. You didn't seem to mind. She could tell you wanted to remain in her orbit for as long as you could until you had to hit play on reality again—a mutual feeling.
She fell into step beside you, watching the sway of your hips like her eyes were drawn there against her will. You caught her staring and smirked, and she had the nerve to wink.
“See something you like?” You teased, stepping off the elevator.
Riri grabbed your waist from behind, laughing as you tried fighting her off. “You know I do.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous.”
At your door, you lingered with your keys in hand, leaning against the frame. “You sure you don’t wanna come in? My roommate isn’t home.”
She knew exactly what you meant, what you were really asking. And as tempting as it was, she wanted your first time together to be somewhere with no risk of interruption. She wanted more than rushed with you, because you were worth that and more. “Not tonight,” She said with a smirk. “I need to give you some time to miss me first.”
“I already do,” You countered without hesitation.
That made her grin. “Good.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, suspicion spinning through your glare, “You sure you not just saying that cause you already changed your mind about this?”
“I should be asking you that.” She huffed dryly.
“I haven't,” You answered softly, your forehead creasing a little.
“Okay.” Riri gave you a small smile, though inside, the thought of you waking up tomorrow and deciding this was a mistake stung more than she wanted to admit. “I gotta go though. Ima see you.”
You were blushing again, biting your lip in that sexy way she liked, “Goodnight, Riri.”
“Night…”
The door clicked shut, and she turned toward the elevator. The last time she’d walked out of this building, shame and guilt had chased her all the way home. But tonight, she carried only the taste of you on her lips, the sound of your laugh in her head, and the kind of bliss that made her feel untouchable.
•••
Two days. That’s how long it had been since Sunday night, and Riri hadn’t heard a word from you. Nothing, not even a good morning text was sent her way.
She told herself she understood, somewhat. If you needed time to process the weekend’s events, then fine. She’d give you that. But still, the silence gnawed away at her anyway. You could've sent something, anything that would ease her crippling anxiety. She could've texted you first, sure, but she refrained on purpose, forcing herself to wait.
Because she needed proof, proof that you were truthful about how much you wanted her. Riri needed you to do the heavy lifting just this once, so she’d know you were in this just as deep as she was.
That night, she drifted off to sleep to your majestic image in her mind. Your mouth, the weight of your body fused to hers. It was your likeness that kept her monster at bay, the memory of your whines and whimpers serving as a lullaby he despised.
Now it was Tuesday, and she had a schedule packed to the brim with classes she had to attend if she wanted to preserve her future, and what not. It was warm out, and she found herself walking across campus with Hakeem, only half listening to his rant about his planetary sciences professor.
“I’m telling you, bruh, I should’ve gotten at least an 80 on that exam,” He professed, hands flying dramatically. “That’s how I know she plotting on my downfall.”
Riri snorted at his remark, quick and light, sliding into her role as attentive best friend with practiced ease. “Nigga, ain’t that the exam you begged me to help you study for last week, and then yo ass never showed up?”
“Man, that ain't the point! I–”
Keem’s voice faded out again, like she had mentally turned his volume down, and she sank back into her thoughts, chewing on regret once more. She should’ve gone inside with you on Sunday when you asked. Maybe if she’d had a little less respect—for you, for herself—she would’ve said yes. Who knew how the night would’ve ended then?
Why invite her in and then not text her for days? Fuck, she was spiraling. A feeling she was used to, especially when it came to you. But this, this was an unbearable capacity, one that challenged the very loose grip she already had on her life.
She knew you were with Keem last night. So what, you could text him and not her? He’d mentioned you’d gone out, offhand, casual. Interestingly enough though, she hadn't heard anything about Saturday night from him. Not that she’d expected to, he didn't owe her an explanation. It was his business. But the fact that she knew, and had to behave as though she didn't, burned still.
Were you comparing the two of them? Weighing her fingers against his? Had you decided his were better? Is that why you hadn't reached out? The thoughts twisted deep, leaving her stomach sour.
Riri’s phone buzzed in her pocket then, and she almost ignored it, until curiosity made her yank it out.
You: two of my classes got canceled, and i wanna see you. you free to come over?
Riri’s entire face broke out into a deep, wide set grin that hurt a little as it stretched. But she didn't care. She read the message twice, three times, like she had to prove it existed.
You’d texted her first.
You wanted her.
She was so caught up in her phone screen that she didn’t even notice Keem had walked ahead of her until he called out. “Yo, you good?”
Riri blinked, shoving the phone back down before the joy split her chest open. “Huh?” She jogged back to his side, trying to mask it.
“Who in that phone got you so distracted?” He teased, eyebrows raised.
Her pulse tripped over itself, panic cutting through her high, and she snapped. “What? Man, nobody. Mind your business, damn.” It came out sharper than she meant, a blade thrown out too fast.
But Hakeem didn't seem fazed by the harshness in her tone, he just laughed, holding his hands up. “My bad, my bad. I’ll definitely do that. But one of these days, Ri, that double life you living gon come back to bite you in that ass.”
A joke that was… funny enough. It should've landed though, should've hit home for Riri but it didn't. She was too keyed up from your text to even pick up on the implication, let alone care. She just scoffed, brushing him off with a wave. “Man, whatever. I gotta go.”
“Go where? Class is that way,” He shouted, pointing in the complete opposite direction.
But she barely heard him. Her feet were already moving, knowing exactly where they were heading.
Everything else could fall away—the classes she was ditching, the lie sitting in her throat, the monster that haunted her edges. All she cared about was the fact that you’d reached for her when she was about to give up hope. Riri was already running, cutting through the quad with her heart in her throat, chasing the only thing that mattered.
this is the official playlist for the series. the songs are organized by chapter. each song gives a specific feel to specific scenes from parts 1-7. listen while you read. i'm gonna be updating the playlist every time i post a new chapter until the fic is complete. enjoy!
summary: you spent years mastering the art of denial, molding yourself into the image you were told to uphold. only to have a beautiful girl with a silver tongue to undo it all.
word count: long!
contents: yearninggggg, drinking, smoking, some sexually explicit behaviors (18+), a twinge of angst, desperate!riri, jealous!riri
note: the time has finally come frens, and it's only up from here. this chapter is longgg, so grab a snack! permission to yell at me after y'all finish reading lol. also shout out to me for posting in a semi normal timeframe. #growth. but anywho, hope youse enjoy! let the cheating begin! mwah, mwah!
↬ series masterlist
The weekend had come and gone in the wake of Riri’s earth-shattering confession. You’d come home to an empty apartment, and you audibly thanked the universe as you made a beeline for your bed.
You needed to lie down.
Remaining upright had become a chore, following the weakening blows your body absorbed from the evil little scientist hellbent on destroying your world. It was a miracle you even made it through the front door without collapsing.
You spent all of Sunday in bed too, buried beneath your covers, lights off, pretending the world didn't exist beyond the four walls of your dark room.
If you hadn’t been woken up so abruptly by Talia’s obnoxious blender, you wouldn’t have left the house. You wouldn’t have answered the phone when your mother called. You wouldn’t have let that conversation worm its way under your skin, pushing you toward Riri like a lamb to slaughter. She wouldn't have bared her soul to you, cut her heart out and slam it on the table for you to examine.
You wouldn't have known how she felt.
But hadn't you always known? Deep down, in the places you didn’t dare inspect too closely, hadn’t you felt it? Tucked away behind all your denial, buried under every excuse you made just to protect your peace of mind—hadn’t it always been obvious?
And hadn't those feelings always been reciprocated?
You pondered these questions now, sipping your too-sweet, too-strong brown sugar espresso, the extra shot doing little to fight the exhaustion attacking your bones. Because despite spending the whole weekend in bed, you hadn’t rested. Not really.
It was Monday now, and you peeled yourself out of bed this morning to find that the world indeed continued to turn. Classes required attendance, and your project with Riri demanded completion.
You hadn't seen her since you left her room—obviously—but she was still your partner, and you still n eeded a grade. But how exactly were you supposed to get in contact with her without seeing her was the next question. Not like you could just text her, you didn't even have her number. You chuckled to yourself at the realization. All this drama, all this heartache, and you two didn't even have each other's phone numbers.
Go fucking figure.
Showing up at her dorm again was completely out of the question. God, you had to stop doing that, accosting Riri unannounced. One would think you'd learned your lesson after the first, second, and third time the action utterly failed you. Maybe now it would stick, you thought.
You could ask Hakeem for her number maybe, but there was already too much suspicion swirling around you, and you'd learned your boyfriend could be smart enough when he wanted to be. Asking would bring along questions, questions that would make you freeze up if you tried to answer them, and you couldn't risk that.
So you took a shot in the dark instead, remembering the last time you literally ran into Riri outside of class. The library. Not a guarantee, but it was something, and it was all you had.
You took one last sip of your coffee before tossing it, and then you began the trek across campus. The sky was darkening, clouds heavy, like fragile barrels of water getting ready to burst, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. By the time you made it to the library, the skyline was cracking, the sound quaking the steps beneath your feet as you ran for cover.
You managed to make it inside, clothes barely touched by rain, and you sighed, breathing in the thick smell of dusty books and lemon cleaner. The floor squeaked softly underneath your wet sneakers as you weaved through the main floor, past half-dozing students hunched over textbooks. You didn't know what you were hoping for really, but when you turned the corner near the private study rooms, your heart lurched.
There she was.
Through the glass window of one of the study rooms, you spotted her, eyes traveling back and forth from her laptop screen to her notebook. She had her headphones on, and her braids were a little fuzzy, like she had forgotten to tie them down the night before, and couldn't be bothered to refresh them this morning.
She looked exhausted. Beautiful. Alive.
And something inside you—something deep and stupid and desperate—rejoiced. It felt like all of your bruised cells and nerve endings healed themselves, and came back to life. Because despite everything, you had found her. You always found her, even when you weren't trying.
You didn't think, you just moved, heading right over to where she was, and you opened the door without knocking. You barged right in, heartbeat clawing its way up your throat, and dropped into the seat before her.
Slowy, Riri lifted her gaze from her laptop to meet yours. She blinked, a hint of surprise filling her pupils as she stared at you wordlessly, removing her headphones. Riri eyed you like she was trying to figure out what you were doing here, if you were real. You could see her mouth twitch at the corners, a tell you easily recognized as a smirk suppressed. She was amused, maybe, or just a little pleased despite herself.
Your chest tightened at that tiny, barely-there pull of her lips, because you realized that simply seeing you—even now, after everything—softened her. It was so slight, so minuscule, and it shouldn't have affected your breathing. But she held that same power to make you melt without trying.
You sat in front of her, all wide-eyed and breathless, like a puppy. Riri tilted her head at you, brow lifted, waiting. You were waiting too, thumb fiddling with your bracelet, waiting for her to say something first, or maybe daring yourself to be the one to break the silence. It wasn't awkward, just noticeable, and it sat atop your skin like a layer of sweat.
Seconds dragged on—minutes—and neither of you spoke. And you knew Riri well enough to conclude this was all being done on purpose, a tactic to make you crack.
Would you? You did come all this way…
You cleared your throat, “So… the project.”
“Mhmm.” The first sound she made since you sat down in front of her. Riri’s glare dragged along your skin, heating your body all over as she took her time ingesting your image, savoring the look of you, before reluctantly pulling her eyes away, and returning to her work.
“It's due soon.” You were trying, and struggling to find words that would bring her attention back to you.
Riri scribbled something in her notebook, “Yeah,I know. I got the same rubric and deadline as you.”
You shifted in your seat, deciding to ignore the unnecessary bite in her tone, “We need to work on it. Uh, I know you probably don't want–”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Her voice was flat, lacking any discernible emotion.
“This is the project?” You asked, your own voice faltering a little bit.
“Yup. My half.”
You deadpanned, “Your half? We didn't even decide on a topic yet.”
Riri chuckled dryly under her breath, sounding almost, unimpressed? “Yeah we did. Environmental Modeling, remember?”
Of course you remembered. You remembered because you were the one who thought of it. That night, in your apartment when Riri showed up empty handed. No textbook, no laptop, not even so much as a pen. In hindsight, it should’ve been obvious what her intentions were just off how she arrived at your door. You hadn't thought she was listening when you were explaining the topic, but apparently you were wrong about that.
“Sure but–”
“I started my half Saturday night,” She cut in. “I already developed the differential equation we need.” She turned her laptop around so you could see it.
You allowed your eyes to leave her face, your stare riddled with shock and disbelief, and you leaned in, studying the equation. It looked like the basic population growth model you were familiar with, but she’d added a term at the end, something to account for human impact, like poaching or habitat loss. Simple, but smart. It made the model feel more real. She’d even plugged in starting values.
You shook your head. While you were in bed crying, paralyzed by everything she said, Riri was hard at work on the assignment you two were supposed to be doing together. She had moved on to the next thing, like it was nothing, and you were stuck struggling to catch up.
“This is um, all great Riri. Yeah.” You said, voice flat and defeated, tinged with something akin to hurt. “I have my laptop in my bag, I can just get started on the conservation efforts, I guess.”
“Cool.” And then she went back to her own work, welcoming that sticky silence once more as her fingertips glided against her keyboard, like she'd already zoned out and forgotten you were there.
You sat back, staring at her with perplexity, stunned by how effortless this was for her. How was this the same girl who looked ready and willing to fall apart in front of, and for you just two days ago? Riri was treating you like a lab partner she barely tolerated and was forced to work with. You’d expected awkwardness—sure, perhaps a bit of tension, maybe even avoidance. But not this. Not this faux professionalism, this detachment. Like she'd decided she was over everything, ridded her system of the entire interaction.
How could she behave like none of it mattered? She'd called you beautiful. Whispered the word like it came to her as easily as drawing breath. How could she allow herself to be distracted by meaningless school work after that? How could she expect you to?
You busied yourself by pulling out your computer, needing to do something with your idle hands, mind still reeling with questions. Ones that would likely remain unanswered, giving Riri’s chosen defense. Because that's what this was, right? A defense mechanism, another one of her impenetrable walls, built specifically to keep you out.
And it hurt like hell.
You opened your laptop, and kept your eyes on the screen, adopting the same disposition she had. Pretending your stomach didn't drop at her indifference. Pretending it didn’t feel like the two of you were strangers now, despite knowing far too much about one another to ever be that again.
The pair of you worked in silence for a beat, with you stealing glances that were not reciprocated. Riri was locked in on her designated half of your shared assignment, with her headphones back on, and the world turned off. She was doing that thing she was ever so skilled at—disregarding you—treating you as less than a person, and it was starting to piss you off. You dropped your pen, narrowing your eyes at her before huffing.
“Am I supposed to forget Saturday happened?” You questioned, irritation evident in your tone of voice.
Riri didn't look up from her screen, “If that's what you wanna do, sure.”
She scrolled down a bit, then clicked something, “When you’re doing the conservation effort breakdown, make sure you factor in the reintroduction variables. They’ll affect the slope.”
Your mouth parted slightly. You were baffled, like she’d just offered the weather report after setting your house on fire. The audacity.
“I don't think I do,” You replied softly, “But I don't really know what I’m supposed to say back. Or do.”
Riri finally glanced up at you, “Sure you do. But you won't. That's what you really mean.”
And then, without pause, she gestured to her notes. “I got a 3x growth rate on the second run. Factored in human interference. Seemed more accurate.”
You stared at her. Dumbfounded. Because how can she go from exposing her innards to talking to you about… math? It made you want to scream, to reach across the table and shake her until she popped, until she dropped the act and actually spoke to you.
You hated her so much in this moment, hated her stupid little nonchalant demeanor. You wanted to rattle her, shake her foundation like she shook yours. But how…
And then it hit you.
“Zariyah saw me you know,” You started, sounding slightly more confident than before, “When I was leaving. She saw me.”
“So?”
You scoffed, “She saw me crying as I was leaving your room. I’m sure that's gonna raise some questions. Like ‘why was your best friend's girlfriend crying after leaving your room, Riri? What happened? Why was she even there to begin with?’”
“Is this you trying to intimidate me? Cause it ain't working.”
She was lying, and you knew it. The slight flare of her nostrils, the way her fingers paused over the keyboard—all telltale signs. You were under her skin, and she was scrambling to maintain control. Like this new found information had the power to destroy the lie she’d already told.
You quirked a single brow, but said nothing. Checkmate, bitch.
And then Riri sighed, her facade cracking for the first time since you sat down. “Fine. You wanna do this here? Let's do it.”
“I told you how I felt and you rejected me,”
“I didn't–”
“Yes. You did. You rejected me because you're too scared to admit what we both know is true, and you're using Hakeem as an excuse for you being a coward. So maybe it is best we just forget it.” She exhaled, “Is that what you wanted to hear? Hmm?”
But before you could answer her, both of your phones began to ping simultaneously. You reached for yours just as Riri grabbed hers, only to find that your boyfriend had added you into a group chat with his best friend—the same best friend who was currently sitting across from you, reading the exact same message.
Keem: Hey my two favorite party planners. Sorry Riri, baby girl spilled the beans, but don't worry Ima still act all surprised and shit when I show up, like I didn’t know a thing. While I have you, I did wanna go over a list of demands that MUST happen. Sike nah I’m playing, BUT I do got some requests.
Keem: First off I want a house party. Niggas don't do house parties no more, and I wanna be THEE nigga to bring em back!
Keem: For the guest list, invite EVERYBODY! This gotta be the most talked about party in MIT history! Maybe y’all can make some flyers and like hand em out around campus
Keem: For the food, I ain't too picky. But I need me some Hawaiian pizza. Riri you can handle that cause baby girl is allergic
Keem: OOH! but my cake HAS to be chocolate with vanilla ice cream in the middle, it's my fav. I know a great bakery that makes it just how I like it if you need the deets
Keem: LIKKA (the kind that gets you fucked up!🤣)
Keem: OOH CAN IT BE SPACE THEMED?!?!
Keem: That's really it though, I trust y’all. My favorite girls working together! A state of bonding, love, trust, real friendship!🥹
“Just fucking great.” Riri muttered, the words barely audible beneath a breathy, humorless laugh.
You scoffed, blinking at your screen like it might change, “Is he for real? Where does he think the money is coming from for all this stuff?”
Riri shook her head across from you, not even trying to hide her irritation. “This is your fault, you know.”
“I’m aware of that, Riri.” You snapped, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes rolled without your permission.
“Then why the hell are you complaining?” She shot back, eyebrows lifting like you were the irrational one for even reacting.
She wasn't wrong, you shouldn't be complaining. You were the one to get the two of you into this mess. But this was after Riri left you to clean up her mess. The mess that she created in your heart and mind. You didn't have an answer for Hakeem's questions, so you panicked, like anybody else would in your position. High off the adrenaline of an almost kiss, and the slow-approaching guilt of nearly being caught.
Riri had some nerve calling you a coward. She didn't even stick around, she panicked too. So much so that she froze up in front of her best friend. She could barely say five words to him, and then she bolted, leaving you to deal with the fallout all on your own.
How's that for a coward?
You contemplated throwing this back in her face, calling her the hypocrite she deemed you, but what was the point? That would only incite more drama, more arguing that you lacked the capacity to handle right now.
You sighed, rubbing your forehead, “I didn't think he would make it this big of a deal.”
“Clearly, you don't know your boyfriend.” Riri let the word drip like venom, laced with an icy bitterness she didn't bother to hide. It hit you hard in your chest, but you decided to ignore that too.
“I can cover all of the food, drinks, decorations,” You offered, already beginning to calculate the cost in your head. “But, where would we have it? Maybe we can talk to his roommate and find a way to throw the party at their place?”
And Riri laughed. Not in that mocking way you were used to, but like a genuine hearty laugh. The kind that indicated that she was laughing with you, not at you. Which left you more confused than before.
“I might got an idea,” She stated, grinning, “But Keem probably won't like it.”
“What's the idea?” You questioned, tilting your head, skeptical about her new found enthusiasm.
Her grin grew, turning into something motivated by mischief. She didn't speak as she pulled her chair around to your side of the table, jarring you entirely, and she sat down, scooting in closer than necessary. You found yourself holding your breath when she reached over your arm to pull her laptop closer, and evidently, so did she.
She turned to you then, eyes dancing, “How do you feel about taking advantage of a rich, middle aged, white lady?”
•••
“His stepmom? You wanna get the money from his stepmom?” Riri sounded insane. Her idea to make Hakeem's rich, white, stepmother—whom you had no clue about—pay for the party seemed a little… unethical in your opinion. You didn't even know the woman, how were you supposed to ask her for money?
“Well yes.”
She was already typing on her computer, eyes scanning through luxurious Airbnb listings with a little too much excitement. You could see the dollar signs in her eyes, the way she seemed too ready to milk this woman for her cash. You wanted to stop her, slap the computer screen down on her swift little fingers but you couldn't. Your mind had been too busy trying to conceptualize Hakeem having a white mother, well stepmother, but still. Why was this news you were learning through Riri?
Your eyes surveyed the screen, locking in on the prices of the places Riri was considering, and they widened. “Uh, how rich is this white lady again?”
“Rich Rich.” Riri clicked on a villa listed for over eight hundred dollars. “She’s like the chief of surgery at some bougie hospital downtown.”
“That's crazy. I didn't even know he had a stepmom.” You half-whispered, still eyeing Riri’s laptop as she scrolled. “What about that one?”
She acknowledged the image you pointed at, then tossed an amused glance your way. “Ain't surprised he never mentioned her. They don't really got the best relationship. Hence why I said he probably won't like that we doing this.”
“Wait what? What do you mean they don't have a good relationship?”
“Ion really know all the details, but apparently his actual mom, Monique, was real sick when Hakeem was younger, and his stepmom, Sherry, was her doctor. Then his dad decided to leave his mom after she got better, to be with… you guessed it!”
You let out a low breath of air, whispering, “Sherry…”
“Yup.” Riri still had her nose nuzzled in her computer, scrolling and clicking, all while delivering information that you felt extremely weird about receiving.
Maybe there was a reason Hakeem kept this from you. Maybe, he didn't want you to know. But why? Did he not trust you? Maybe you weren't in the type of relationship you believed yourself to be in, the type where you guys shared stuff like this with each other. You wanted to be hurt, but how could you be? Not like you told him about your mother.
The only person outside of your sister who knew about her in any capacity was… Riri.
The beautiful girl with endless eyes and a slick mouth.
You felt sick, the sensation settling in your stomach like rot. A sour, festering weight that twisted deeper the longer you sat beside her. Because here you were, listening to a story about your boyfriend’s broken family—his mother’s heartbreak, the betrayal that likely gutted her, and traumatized her son—yet all you could think about was Riri’s lips.
The way they curled around her words. The sharp line of her jaw as she focused on the screen, her fingers dancing over the keyboard like it was second nature. And that made you feel disgusting. Shame surged up your throat, almost choking you. You should’ve been focused on Hakeem, on what this meant for him, for your relationship, but your mind kept slipping and sliding helplessly back to the girl beside you—to his best friend. You wanted to shake it off, to bury it beneath guilt, and logic, and everything you’d been taught about right and wrong. But Riri made that impossible.
He was right to not trust you.
“I don't think we should be doing this,” You finally spoke again. “Seems like a boundary we shouldn't be crossing.”
Riri’s eyes darted over to you, and they lingered, as though she was searching for an unspoken meaning stashed inside your concerns. Her gaze told a story of uncertainty as she inspected you for the implication you did not voice, an implication you didn't know you were omitting until she looked at you. That you and her shouldn't be doing this together.
But that flicker of doubt dissipated as quickly as it emerged, and the shorter girl narrowed her eyes at you, trying to assert a form of dominance you deemed unnecessary, before she responded.
“If you're too scared to do it that's fine.” She reached for her phone. “I don't got no problem calling. Sherry knows me. I can do all of the work, and you can just sit here and look pretty, like you always do.”
She punctuated her remark with a smirk, biting her lip as she typed on her phone.
You gulped. Riri just called you pretty. It was so casual, and so unbelievably backhanded as hell. But it happened, and you knew she meant it, the entire act rendering you speechless. You just stared at her, all wide eyed and bushy tailed, like a pet awaiting validation.
Validation Riri did not withhold, “Good girl.”
She knew you were annoyed as she watched your eyes turn to slits, an outcome she seemed to vie for. She looked so fucking smug and satisfied with herself, raising the phone to her ear after dialing the phone number to Sherry's office.
You only grew more irritated as you watched her. You hated how easy it was for her to make your stomach flutter, just by calling you pretty. How your pulse jumped at the sound of her voicing words like good girl, how her teasing glances made heat crawl up your neck, no matter how hard you tried to keep your cool. It was unbearable, being this affected by someone who knew exactly what she was doing.
She fed off your reaction, like each stolen breath and every flushed expression was a prize. And the worst part? You gave it all to her for free.
You rolled your eyes, opting to stay silent as she prepared to conduct her conversation with Hakeem's stepmother, mostly because you had nothing to add, and Riri seemed to be doing just fine on her own.
Riri put the phone on speaker as it rang, and a heavy load of dread began to build in your stomach the longer Sherry took to pick up.
And then,
“Dr. Sherry Fynch’s office, this is Janice speaking. How can I help you?”
The moment Riri cleared her throat, you sensed a shift. Her voice, usually casual and tinged with sarcasm, transformed into a polished, professional tone. It was jarring, like watching someone slip into a character with practiced ease. You had to stifle a laugh at this unfamiliar version of her, biting your lip to keep from giggling. Riri’s ability to code-switch so seamlessly was both impressive and amusing.
“Hi. My name is Riri Williams, I’m a friend of Hakeem Fynch, Dr. Fynch’s stepson. I was hoping to speak with her briefly. It's not a medical matter, but a more personal one, about her son. Is she available?”
You watched her in admiration as she maintained her composure, marveling at how calm she seemed. Was there anything this magnificent girl couldn't do?
“One moment please,” Came Janice’s reply. “Let me see if she's available to take a personal call.”
As the hold music played softly, Riri glanced at you, a mischievous glint in her eye. You covered your mouth, trying to suppress another giggle. This was absurd, but in the best way.
“Dr. Fynch is currently between consults and has a few minutes. I’ll patch you through now. Please hold.”
“Thank you so much,” Riri replied, all smooth with gratitude. She then mouthed a quick “shh” at you, placing a finger to her lips. You nodded, grinning like an idiot.
There was a soft click, and then the line picked up again, “Hello, this is Sherry Fynch.”
“Hi, Dr. Fynch,” Riri said, her voice tinged with concern. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. This is Riri Williams, Hakeem's best friend. Don't know if you remem–”
“Riri, hi!” Dr. Fynch’s tone lifted mid-sentence, brightening like someone smiling into the phone. “Of course I remember you. Hakeem talks about you constantly. Your name is one we know well at home. How can I help you? Is Hakeem okay? Do I need to contact his father?”
She sounded shrill at the end, panic creeping into her voice before Riri reassured her. “No! No, nothing like that. Keem’s fine. I’m calling because his friends and I are planning a surprise birthday party for him. I’m sure you know he's been really down about his grandmother’s health issues, and we thought this would cheer him up.”
A beat.
“Oh. Yes. Of course… his grandmother.” The pause was just long enough to suggest she had no clue what Riri was talking about, but she pushed on anyway. “That’s a wonderful idea. You kids are very sweet.”
“He tends to hold things in,” You watched as Riri’s eyes welled up slightly, her voice wavering just enough to sell the story. “Hasn't really been speaking to us about his feelings. But we know he's hurting.”
It was a performance worthy of an award. You had to turn away, pressing your fist to your mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
You could hear Sherry sigh into the mic, hear how much she seemed to be affected by this information. “Oh dear. Well, is there anything I can do to help?”
“That's actually why I'm reaching out,” Riri said, pausing just enough to make it feel difficult. “We’re a little short on funds, and I hate asking, I swear. I know you're a busy woman. But is there any way you can–”
Sherry was agreeing before Riri could get the rest of her request out, offering to write a check without hearing an exact amount. That alone almost took you out. Your eyes were full of tears, not from emotion, but from trying to keep it together. Riri gave you a look that said everything without a word:
Keep it the fuck together.
You sat up straighter, wiping your eyes quickly and nodding like you were back in control.
“Who should I make the check out to?” Dr. Fynch asked.
You were astonished how easily she jumped to offering up cash. Astonished that your boyfriend was secretly rich and you had no idea.
“Actually, Venmo would be easier. You know… college kids and all.” Riri laughed halfheartedly.
“Of course, of course.”
Riri rattled off her Venmo handle, and you listened to the soft taps of her phone as she confirmed the transfer. “Thank you so much, Dr. Fynch. This really means a lot. And would you mind not mentioning any of this to him? We wanna keep it a surprise.”
“Anything for Hakeem. And for the people who love him.”
As the call ended, Riri turned to you, her composed facade cracking into a triumphant grin. You both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving. “See how easy that was?”
And then, a notification pinged on Riri’s phone.
“She sent two grand,” Riri said, eyes wide.
You shook your head in disbelief, still laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”
In that moment, amidst the laughter and shared victory, you realized how natural this felt. Being with Riri, unfiltered and free, was something you could definitely get used to.
•••
The next two hours passed in a quiet kind of magic. Whatever tension that floated in the air when you first walked into the study room had long since dissolved, replaced with something softer—something warmer. Your project lay forgotten in the background, buried under the tabs and Pinterest boards you and Riri had opened in pursuit of the perfect party.
You were side by side now, your chairs pushed so close your knees bumped when one of you shifted. Riri didn’t seem to mind. Neither did you.
“The place is booked,” Riri said, closing her laptop after what seemed like an extensive search. “A five hundred dollar deposit, but you know…”
You giggled, “Thank you Dr. Fynch.”
“Mhmm.” Riri turned to you, her eyes fanning over your face, a shimmer of something present inside their depths. “Think we're actually gonna pull off this not so surprising surprise party you so stupidly roped us into.”
“You know,” You said, voice slicker, bolder now that the space between you had heated. “It’s actually your fault I had to come up with that lie in the first place.”
Riri looked at you, her head tilting ever so slightly, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah? How so?”
You met her eyes, heartbeat nudging at your throat. “You tried to kiss me. And that threw me off my game.”
She leaned in, just a little. Just enough to make your breath catch as she lazily slung her arm around the back of your chair. “Your game is nonexistent,” She said, voice steeped in velvet. “And besides…” Her eyes dropped to your mouth and stayed there. “You leaned in too. You’re leaning in now.”
Oh shit.
You froze, realizing that you were leaning in, unknowingly pushing yourself towards Riri’s awaiting lips. So close that if someone passed the glass window of the study room, they might think you were already kissing. So close that the scent of her—cedarwood and something distinctively hers—swaddled you like a blanket. So close that her breath fanned your skin, its warmth traveling down your neck.
And the worst part? You didn’t care.
You didn’t care about the study room, or the window, or the dozens of other students tucked into corners of the library. You didn’t care that your boyfriend’s birthday party was what kept you here with Riri, if anything you were grateful.
Grateful for the curve of Riri’s lips and how her eyes stayed locked on yours like she already knew what you were thinking.
If she kissed you now, you wouldn’t stop her.
You’d let her have you—let her taste you. You’d grab her jaw and pull her closer, and kiss her like you were starving. You’d forget yourself completely, right here, in front of the entire damn school.
But just when your breath hitched, just when the ache between you buzzed loudest—Riri pulled back.
On purpose.
You blinked, stunned, the spell broken.
Riri’s smirk relaxed into something more delicate—slow, sure, a promise curled at the edges. “See?” She dropped her voice to a whisper as she reached up, steady fingers brushing your cheek gently. Her touch lingered longer than it needed to. “You want this just as bad as I do.”
You opened your mouth to argue, to say anything, but nothing came out. Your breathing stuttered, hot air slipping out of you unforeseen. And she knew she had you, right where she wanted.
“My reserved time’s up in here,” She said, already packing her bag and standing like none of that had just happened. “I gotta get to my last class. I wrote down your email, so I’ll send my half of the project to you when I finish it.”
You were still sitting there stunned, heart racing, and she was already slinging her bag over her shoulder.
“We’ll touch base on the party later this week.”
And just like that, she was gone. Leaving you in the charged silence, lips parted, skin flushed, wondering what the hell just happened—and how soon it could happen again.
•••
“Are you gonna open them, or are you hoping they’ll unwrap themselves?” You asked, grinning nervously as you nudged Hakeem's shoulder with your own.
The two of you were in his apartment, as you sat anxiously beside him waiting for his reaction to his birthday presents. His elbows were propped up on his knees, chin in hand, eyes fixed on the two matte black boxes resting in front of you. Each was tied with a silver ribbon that you’d re-done three times to get just right.
“Shhh,” He muttered, holding up a hand like you were interrupting a sacred ritual. He looked like he was trying to mentally x-ray them. “You messing up my process. I’m tryna guess what's inside.”
You laughed. “Boy, if you don’t open these damn presents. I spent too much money just for you to be–”
“Aight, aight,” He relented, smirking as he reached for the first box. He was untying the ribbon slowly on purpose, knowing it would get on your nerves, and you huffed in frustration.
When he finally peeled back the paper, his eyes widened. Inside was a black case, about the size of a lunchbox, lined with thick gray foam. Nestled in it was an array of telescope parts—extra lenses, filters, and little tools he’d mentioned once during a late-night YouTube rabbit hole on stargazing. “Baby… is this that kit I was talking about?” He asked, already pulling it closer, his deep browns filled with unbridled appreciation.
You nodded, grinning like an overly proud girlfriend who had outdone herself. “Mhmm, the one you said was too expensive for something ‘non-essential’, whatever that means.”
“I was tryna be responsible! Money doesn't grow on trees you know.” He protested, eyes still scanning the contents like he’d found treasure.
You stifled a giggle, still wrapping your head around what you'd recently learned about Hakeem and his undisclosed affluent upbringing. It was wild to think that your boyfriend could be sitting on a secret trust fund and never breathed a word about it. You supposed there were signs, like all the expensive equipment he had casually lying around. That telescope in his room had to be at least a grand. But then there was his car, that ancient, beat-up thing that rattled like a death trap on wheels. It was so rundown, you would’ve thought his parents were punishing him by making him drive it. Nothing about that car screamed money, which is probably why you never thought to look for it.
You sat back as he lifted the top layer of tissue paper in the other box and found a Kuromi plushie, her tiny skull bow and smug little smile staring up at him. He cracked up. “Baby?!?! You didn't!”
“But I did!” You giggled, delight evident in your tone. “The second I came across it I knew I had to get it. It’s got yo name written all over it.”
“You know me so well.” He was laughing, digging deeper to find a colorful bundle of socks with tiny planets on them, new neon laces for his beat-up running shoes, and a sleek silver lighter with an image of your face with you sticking your tongue out. At the very bottom was a stack of Polaroids the two of you took together, each with a scribbled note on the back. Inside jokes, song lyrics, one-liners that would only make sense to him.
Hakeem just sat there for a second, taking it all in, sporting the stupidest grin you'd ever seen.
“I remembered you saying something about the telescope stuff and figured it’d be cool to actually get it for you. And Kuromi was a no-brainer. The socks and laces are, like, stocking stuffers. And, I figured you'd stop losing your lighter if it had my face on it. And the Polaroids… I just wanted you to have something that felt like us.” Your lips twitched as you fiddled with your fingers.
He turned to you then, eyes soft. “Baby… I love it. I really, really love it.”
Watching him sort through everything like a kid on Christmas made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect. For a moment, your thoughts drifted to Riri, and what it would feel like to give her something this thoughtful. To see her face light up like Hakeem’s just did.
Or to just see her period.
She’d been MIA since you two presented your project together a couple weeks ago. Skipping class, despite planning the party together. Riri had made sure to keep her distance, splitting the responsibilities so cleanly it was almost surgical. You didn’t understand it. Not fully. All you knew was that ever since you’d let yourself accept the truth about your feelings, you’d been drowning in them. And Riri, the one person you needed most, had made herself entirely inaccessible.
You smiled without meaning to, the ache sitting just beneath it, then blinked and shook it off, grounding yourself in Hakeem’s excitement as he tackled you, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pressed wet, sloppy kisses to your face and neck.
You squealed, giggling as you tried to dodge him, but he held you tight, grinning like a man unwrapping joy. He kissed you once, then again, this time on the lips, and you didn’t pull back. You instead leaned into it, needing something to pour your ache into. Something to steady you, even if it wasn’t the person you were truly fiending for. The kiss deepened, your fingers curling into his shirt as your body moved on instinct—on memory. On hunger.
You felt him pause, just for a second, uncertain about moving forward. Hakeem pulled back slightly to look into your eyes like he’d become aware of something spilling out of you, something he'd been searching for for months but couldn't find, until now. You met his stare head-on, eyes steady, silent. Reassuring. Permitting.
And it must’ve worked, because the next thing you knew, he was pressing you into the couch, his lips hot and urgent against yours as the kiss spiraled into something greedier. You didn’t stop him. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as his hands found your waist, gripping it like he was afraid you might disappear.
His mouth broke from yours, dragging down the column of your neck, hot and heavy. Each breath he exhaled against your skin made your pulse skip, and you hated how badly you wanted the distraction. How badly you wanted him to erase your thoughts, to replace them with something tangible. Something simple.
His kisses trailed lower, warm lips grazing the top of your chest, and then he paused, breath fanning across your sternum as he looked up at you.
“Can I…?” He asked, voice hoarse with restraint, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your tank top.
You nodded, not trusting your voice in this moment, and lifted your arms so he could pull it over your head.
His gaze dropped instantly, widening as he took you in, bare and breathless beneath him. You weren’t wearing a bra. That realization hit you both at once as you felt your nipples tighten from the exposure to air. He swallowed, clearly stunned, clearly moved, fingers trembling as he reached to touch–
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You both stilled.
And the sound came again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
It echoed, more insistent now, and Hakeem looked toward the door, brows furrowing.
“Fuck,” Hakeem mumbled, climbing off you lazily. “I think that’s Ri.”
You didn’t move at first. Your brain felt like static, white noise surging behind your eyes. The reality of what was about to happen rooted you in place, until he passed you your shirt. That jolted you.
He stood, already headed for the door, irritation stamped into each of his heavy strides. You could still feel his weight on your hips, still feel the heat of his mouth on your skin. Fuck. Were you really about to let that happen?
Your hands fumbled with the fabric in your hands, heart pounding so loud it made your fingers clumsy. You pulled the top over your freshly washed curls just as the knock came again, sounding like a gavel, sentencing you for a crime you weren’t sure you had the courage to name.
By the time Hakeem pulled the door open, your shirt was halfway on, your chest still rising and falling like you’d just ran a relay race and lost, the shame settling in. You moved quickly—too quickly—grabbing wrapping paper scraps from the floor, scooping up the ribbon you’d pulled off the cupcake box, tossing napkins into the trash as if cleaning up could somehow make you feel less bare.
“Happy birthday, old ass nigga.”
It was Riri’s voice indeed. You froze, back half-turned toward the front door. Her tone was light, playful. You turned slowly, afraid of what you’d find, and still, the sight knocked the air from your lungs.
She looked… stunning. Her hair was parted clean down the middle and slicked into two low puffs, small gold hoops glinting beneath the warm lights of Hakeem’s apartment. A baggy black and white knit sweater hung onto her frame, paired with matching shorts that stopped mid-thigh. Her toned legs were exposed, on display for you to gawk at, and boy, did you gawk at their definition.
But then, something caught your attention as your gaze climbed. A thin, mostly healed gash just above her left eyebrow. It was faint, but jarring in its presence. The first imperfection you’d ever seen on her face. And it wrecked you. Something about it made her real. Touchable. Mortal.
Solidifying a fact you’d never fathomed—Riri Williams could be harmed. And you detested knowing this, because this fact made you hurt, nurturing that long-lasting ache you’d come to know.
You didn’t realize how long you were staring until she looked right past you.
“You’re early,” Hakeem grumbled, stepping aside.
She stepped fully inside now, fully into your presence and you wanted to cower away, “Yeah, so?”
“I was busy.” His voice dropped slightly, gesturing toward you without actually turning to look.
And just like that, the weight of your guilt returned, landing square in your chest.
She gave you a once-over, her gaze dragging over your frame like she was cataloging everything, your flushed face, your hastily adjusted shirt, messy hair, and the cupcake box now trembling in your hands.
“Oh.” Her voice thinned. “I bet.”
Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile. Not quite a scowl.
And then, like always, she dismissed you completely. Her eyes flicked away like you weren't something worth acknowledging as she focused her attention back on her best friend. You were so fucking sick of her doing that—it made your blood simmer in your veins.
The air in the apartment had shifted, though your boyfriend hadn't noticed, too busy stretching and pouting and pretending he hadn’t just been halfway to fucking you on his couch.
“She staying?” Riri asked, tone casual, but something darker lurked inside it. “Cause I thought it was just gon be–”
“No,” You blurted, louder than you meant to. You swallowed and tried again, more composed this time. “No. I was actually just leaving. Just tidying up a bit before I go.”
Riri raised her brows in amusement, like she hadn’t expected you to respond at all.
You busied yourself with placing the cupcakes in the fridge, the ones you’d brought specially for Hakeem, the ones you’d decorated by hand. But now, under Riri’s eyes, they looked like evidence. As if she could see right through your “good girlfriend” act and into the mess of feelings underneath.
She was watching you.
And so was he.
Their eyes trailed your every move, and you felt them—hot, unblinking, and impossible to ignore. It was like standing in the center of a flame, burning from two sides.
You kept your head down, focused on the motions of your hands as if cleaning up was the most important task in the world. You crumpled the used napkins with too much force, shoved them into the trash. You grabbed the half-eaten pizza and slid it back into the box, fingers fumbling with the greasy lid. You opened the fridge, tucked the box away. Reached for the cupcakes again, and adjusted them three times before finally leaving them on the second shelf.
It was all busy work, none of it necessary. But you needed something to do, something that didn’t involve looking at either of them.
Still, you caught glimpses as you moved about the small kitchen. Hakeem’s expression was tight, jaw clenched, frustration still painted across his face. His energy radiated toward you like heat off pavement, still simmering from what the two of you had almost done. You’d come the closest you ever had to letting him touch you, just for the opportunity to fall through the cracks.
And Riri… Riri stood beside him, her posture deceptively casual, but her eyes were something else entirely. You could feel them roving over your body, calculated and searing. There was no amusement in her gaze, no mockery. Just… restraint. Dangerous restraint. Like she was holding herself together for the sake of the room.
For the sake of him.
But you were aware of her true feelings for you now, and the behaviors that came with them. You saw the glint of jealousy in her pupils, sharp as a blade. The way her fists flexed at her sides. She didn’t need to speak for you to know she was furious. Not just at the thought of you with him, but at the way your body still responded to her presence, especially now.
They both wanted you, sought to devour you. You could feel it pulsing in the sticky silence between the three of you. And fuck, you didn’t know what to do with that. You didn't even want to address the sick part of you that liked it—that wanted it.
Your hands paused over the counter, fingers curling around the edge for a moment, grounding yourself, mouth dry. Your pulse was sprinting, every cell in your body screaming for escape, but you still lingered there, as if waiting for someone to say something. Do something.
They didn’t.
So you swallowed your nerves, “Okay,” You said, breathless, shaky. You turned toward them, your smile strained and uneven, as you grabbed your phone, bag, and pulled on one of Hakeem's hoodies. “Ima get going so y’all can enjoy your bestie sleepover.”
You moved between them like smoke, inching towards Hakeem to give him a kiss goodbye, and whispered one last, “Happy birthday, baby.”
You were almost to the door when you risked a glance at Riri, your voice catching in your throat, sounding dry, and desperate. “See you in class tomorrow?”
Riri’s mouth lifted just slightly, conniving as ever. That signature smirk that never failed to knock the air from your lungs. “Maybe,” She said, like a threat.
You nodded, embarrassed at how much you were clinging to hope, that she might actually show up tomorrow just to see you, and then you were out the door.
Your feet didn’t stop moving until you were nearing the lobby door, the night air seconds away from kissing your skin. You heard the elevator ding behind you, but thought nothing of it until the sounds of fast footfalls began approaching you, and you turned.
There stood Riri. She looked a little flushed as she stepped off the elevator, lips parting like she'd been running. Her curls were a little less perfect than they’d been when she’d first arrived, and then there were her eyes: sharp, locked on you with singular focus. She approached you, with sure steps until she was standing directly in front of you.
You didn't speak, deciding it was her turn to break first, and mostly because you didn't know what to say. That was your constant when it came to her now, a thing you’ve grown to accept.
Riri cleared her throat softly, eyes darting from your face, to a spot just over your shoulder, before settling on your lips, then quickly back to your eyes. “We, uh… we gotta head over to the spot early on Saturday to set up. Put up decorations and shit.”
Her voice was casual, but there was something brittle underneath it. Something that sounded suspiciously like nerves.
You blinked. Right. Now she wanted to share space. Now she wanted to play co-host. Sure…
“Yeah, what time?” You questioned, keeping your tone flat, even though your heartbeat’s uncomfortable thumping hadn’t quite caught up.
Riri scratched the side of her neck, her stare bouncing to the floor, then to the edge of your shoe like it held the answer. “Uh… around five, five thirty-ish?”
You nodded slowly, arms folding across your chest. “Okay. That works.” A pause. “You find someone to pick up the cake?”
God, this whole exchange felt so formal, like you were two coworkers awkwardly bumping into each other at the copier.
She shifted her weight, exhaling her words like the thought exhausted her, “Yeah. Uh, Riy said she’d grab it. Bakery’s close to her job so...”
Zariyah.
Of course.
You nodded once, too fast. “Cool.”
Riri’s mouth twitched, a half-smile forming, almost reluctant. “Cool.”
The word sat between you like a missed step, and for a moment neither of you moved. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, and you realized her leg was bouncing slightly, a nervous tell you’d never picked up on before.
You’d gone two weeks without her. Now she was here, stammering, shifting, not quite meeting your eye line, and all you could think was how wrong it felt to talk to her like this. Like strangers. Like whatever had passed between you was a glitch and not something that had rerouted your entire internal wiring.
So you stood there, wrapped in the quiet, pretending your skin wasn’t burning from the proximity, pretending her voice didn’t feel like a balm and a blade all at once.
Your gaze flicked up, tracing the shape of her features, hunting for something familiar, something that reminded you this was still the same girl who nearly kissed you, and tearfully confessed her feelings for you three weeks ago.
For the second time tonight, you found your eyes glued to her forehead, and without thinking, your hand lifted, fingers ghosting the gash above her brow with tender and care. Seeing it this close twisted something in your gut.
“What happened?” You asked, voice barely more than a whisper, like too much sound would cause her more hurt.
Riri winced as she gently caught your wrist, guiding your hand away from her face, her fingers warm against yours.
“Nothing you need to be concerned about,” She said softly.
That stung more than you expected, and you pulled your hand back, tucking it into your sleeve like it had betrayed you.
“Okay,” If she wanted to keep things at a distance, fine. You could do that too.
She was fidgeting again, “Saw we got an A on the project.” She said, her laugh dry and humorless.
“Yup.” Your response was just as barren as hers, just as pointless. “If you would have come to class, you would've known we got picked, along with two other student groups, to represent the class at this year's DeltaLab Symposium.”
“I think I got that email, just never opened it.” Riri scratched her neck awkwardly.
Now it was your turn to laugh. “Where were you anyway? Why weren't you in class?”
“Busy.”
Busy?
“Busy?” Your voice cracked with disbelief. “I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks and all I get is ‘busy’?”
She cocked her head slightly, tone still maddeningly even. “You need more than that?”
You scoffed, eyes stinging with something you refused to name. “You know what, I don’t, actually.”
You turned, ready to put distance between you and whatever this was–
But her hand curled around your wrist, not rough, not hard, but firm. You could feel the heat of her flesh on yours, and it halted you dead in your tracks.
And then she pulled you into her.
You spun back, reentering her orbit, acclimating beautifully to her oxygen, and suddenly her face was right there—closer than it had ever been in public.
“Did you let him fuck you?” She asked, voice stern, yet she sounded terrified of what your answer would be.
You reeled back, blinking. “Excu–”
“Upstairs, before I came over. Before he opened the door,” She cut in, stepping forward, close enough for you to get a whiff of what had to be her new cologne—coconut, and smoke, and warmth—your breath catching in your chest. “Did you let him fuck you?”
Her hands were on your waist now, her fingers pressing in just enough to set you off balance, and ground herself all at once. She was testing you, trying to see how far you’d let her go this out in the open.
“I–” Your voice failed you. You looked around the empty lobby like someone might materialize out of nowhere. “No.”
It came out as a whimper. Pathetic, but truthful.
Her eyes darkened, ridding themselves of the accusation and fear they carried moments ago, and the tiniest smirk curled at the corner of her mouth as her hand slid beneath the hoodie you were wearing—hakeem's hoodie—gripping your hip with bruising intent.
“Good.” She whispered, her stare puncturing deep into your soul as she gazed up at you.
Her mouth didn’t meet yours, but it hovered. Right there. Close enough that you could feel its warmth. Her nose brushed yours, her breath feathering your parted lips, as you swallowed her exhale, tasted it, and you swore your heart had stopped pumping blood entirely.
You leaned in with practiced ease, waiting for something you weren’t sure would come—and then she pulled back. Again.
She was smirking, pleased.
“You're leaning in again, pretty.”
You blinked, and that seemed to make her chuckle.
“I gotta get back upstairs to yo nigga before he comes looking for me.” Riri started backing away, eyes still trained on yours. “Told him I left my phone in the car.”
The same phone that she was now fishing out of her pocket, tapping away at the screen as the elevator doors hissed shut.
You just stood there for a while, chest heaving, fingers brushing the lips Riri almost kissed. You didn't move until your phone dinged, bringing you back into the real world. You pulled it out to find a notification from an unsaved number you'd come to know as Riri’s:
see you saturday, pretty. x
You were grinning at the message as the front doors opened, and someone entered the building, glancing at you curiously. You quickly turned, ducking your head and scurrying off into the night like a woman on fire.
•••
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You hissed under your breath, breaking into a quick, clumsy trot up the gravel driveway as your Uber peeled off behind you.
You tugged at the neckline of your black bodysuit, adjusting the thin straps digging into your shoulders as you attempted to fix your boobs without drawing more attention to them than they were already bound to get. The fabric adhered to your chest, a second skin that didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Your loose, light-washed jeans drooped low on your hips, cinched just enough to reveal the subtle curve of your waistline when you moved. The contrast made you feel exposed in a way you weren’t sure you liked, causing you to regret the outfit choice just a bit, but it was too late to change now.
You were already late to help with setting up for the party, due to the long minutes eaten alive by your indecision in front of the mirror, even though this wasn't your final outfit. That would come later, that was for Hakeem.
The clothes you wore now—were for his best friend—for Riri.
As much as you tried to convince yourself you weren't dressing for her, it didn't work. Because your body recognized the excitement that surged through you as a sensation that arose only when proximity to Riri was on the table. You’d oiled your skin just enough to catch the light, practically took a bath in your perfume, glossed and reglossed your lips about seven times on the way over here. Nobody else elicited this type of behavior from you, who were you trying to kid?
You’d grown fond of the feeling of Riri’s hands on you, on your skin, like the way she touched you on Hakeem's birthday, the way she embedded her fingertips into your hips in the lobby that night. She left a bruise from the force of her touch, and the ferocity of her jealousy. You liked that.
And you wanted more.
Hence the revealing outfit. More exposed skin for her to caress.
That was all you could think about as you hurried up the driveway, approaching the front porch of the house. It towered in front of you, bathed in golden-hour light, its massive frame nestled among tall pines and expertly manicured hedges. The green paint of the house blended beautifully with the surrounding trees, and from where you stood, you could see the glimmer of lakewater, peeking from behind the slope of the lawn. It was gorgeous. Ridiculous. Expensive. You hadn’t realized Sherry would shell out for something like this, but Riri clearly knew how to finesse.
You jogged up the front steps, already working on your apologetic lie as you opened the door.
“Sorry, I know I know, I’m late,” You called out as you stepped into the house, following the soft pulse of music floating from somewhere deeper inside. “I missed my bus and I had to wait forever for my uber to show up, and–”
You stilled.
“Oh.”
The word barely made it out.
The living room opened up like something out of a catalog, ceilings high and vaulted, air perfumed with expensive pine and fresh flowers. But your eyes weren’t on the space. They were on her.
Riri stood in the center of the room, holding steady a silver ladder with one hand as Zariyah balanced on the top step, carefully tying a large, metallic Saturn balloon to a ceiling beam.
“You’re late.” Riri didn’t even look at you. Her voice was clipped, barely a note above casual irritation.
“I know, I uh…” You set your purse down on the entry table with a nervous thud, trying not to let your face betray the swirl of feelings that just crashed into you. “Missed my bus.”
A lie, and a weak one at that. But it was far simpler than saying you spent too much time wondering if she’d think you looked good.
Your eyes bounced between her and Zariyah, watching as Riri handed her another balloon, sporting a small smile, and the taller girl accepted it like a prize bestowed upon her. You couldn't help but scoff silently at the sight of their exchange, feeling a wave of disappointment crash into you.
You were supposed to be the one here with her, decorating with balloons, and putting up banners, and building something out of nothing, just the two of you. Instead, here she was, with Zariyah. Of fucking course.
Were they joined at the fucking hip or something?
Annoyance rose in your throat before you could stuff it down, coiling and hot. You wanted to ask why Zariyah was here, why Riri hadn’t mentioned she’d be helping. You knew she was bringing the cake, but why had she stayed?
It felt like Riri was trying to make a point, trying to prove to you that you were indeed replaceable. You didn't dare voice that though, you just stood beneath the arched entrance, staring them down with hot fury.
And when Riri finally looked at you, her gaze skimmed your outfit, assessing you. No expression gave her away, but her eyes lingered, like she was mentally undressing you, her stare making you second guess your choice to go braless under a tank that clung to you in all the wrong ways. Or right ways, depending on whose gaze you were trying to catch.
She didn’t say anything.
Just looked.
And then turned back to the ladder.
You hated how much that silence burned.
You hated her, and the control she had over your mind, and body, and heart.
“It’s alright, gorgeous,” Zariyah’s voice floated down with a wink as she descended the ladder, sticking her hand out to Riri for balance. “I didn’t mind sticking around to help Ri. You know her lil ass wouldn’t be able to hang shit by herself.”
Riri rolled her eyes at the smirk Riy tossed her way, “Man, here yo ass go.”
You let out a stiff, awkward laugh. It was hollow in your throat, fake even to your own ears. “Sorry again for being late,” You offered, stepping deeper into the living room now. “Is there anything else y’all need me to do? Besides hanging decorations?”
Riri didn’t miss a beat, her voice holding that usual venom, but this time, it was different. More pointed. More personal. “The party is for your nigga, you should be the one with the list of things that need to be done. This was all your idea.”
The reminder cut deep, and Riri knew it would. Yes the party was for your boyfriend, yes it was your idea, how many times did she have to say it? You didn't understand why it was so natural for her to be cruel, even after admitting she hated how it made you feel.
“I know that,” You gritted out, chest rigid. “I was just saying it looks like y’all got a lot done while I wasn’t here, so I figured I’d ask if there was anything specific left.”
“There’s still a lot of shit that needs to get done,” Riri muttered, barely glancing in your direction.
“Okay… like what?”
Riri snapped her gaze to yours, jaw tightening. “You always need somebody to hold your hand through shit. Just figure it the fuck out, I don’t know.”
That did it. You crossed your arms, stepping forward slightly, the jealousy that had been simmering since you walked in—since you saw her with Zariyah—boiling over. “And what if I leave? And have you figure it the fuck out, alone? What if I just say I’m done, completely? Because having you talk to me like some bitch off the street ain't worth it, Riri.”
Your voice came out more forceful than intended, words heavy with an implication only Riri was meant to catch. The weight behind your words wasn’t just about the decorations, or the party, or her attitude, it was about everything else, everything unspoken. What if you cut the cord that tethered you to her?
What if you chose to suppress the part of yourself that ached for her?
What would she do then?
Evidently, she didn't have an answer, she just stood there. You knew that look on her face well, because you wore it often. Riri was speechless, hurt by what you’d said. Never had you been the one to paint her in the colors of helplessness, it had always been the other way around. And maybe it made you a little cruel, but you couldn’t help it, you liked how it felt. Liked how it looked on her.
By the time Riri had geared up her rebuttal, Zariyah was stepping in, just as things began to teeter. You’d kind of forgotten she was there, if you were being honest.
Riy raised both brows, shutting the small girl down before she could speak, “Ri, why you always gotta be a dick?”
Riri scoffed, not backing down, even though you and her both knew she’d already played her hand and lost. “Nah, cause she act like she forget how to think every time she walk in a room.”
“Don't talk about me like I’m not standing right here, Riri.”
She was scowling at you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You turned toward Zariyah then, eyes still on fire, voice full of purpose. “Riy, since Riri’s default is always asshole, do you mind telling me what else needs to be done? Like, the things y’all didn’t already finish?”
Zariyah grinned at you, clearly enjoying the whole exchange between you and her lover, but not hiding who she was siding with. She walked over to you and slid her arm around your waist, leaning in. “Oh gladly, pretty face. We can finish setting up without her. Let her be pissy all by herself.”
You didn’t miss the way Riri’s jaw clenched, the way her eyes narrowed when Zariyah’s fingers settled at the curve of your waist like she belonged there. You tossed her a look, cool, smug, daring her to say something else.
And of course, Riri didn’t. But the flames in her eyes said more than enough.
You let Zariyah guide you toward the kitchen, both of you giggling under your breath like kids ditching class, while behind you, Riri simmered. That familiar heat pulsing between you—bitterness, possession, want.
Let her stew in it.
•••
“Pineapples on pizza is a sin,” Zariyah declared as she backed through the front door, arms full of greasy boxes.
You let out a breathy laugh, shifting a massive aluminum pan against your hip. “Oh my god, right? I’m allergic anyway, so it’s literally a threat to my life.”
You both set the food down on the sprawling kitchen island, still giggling. The savory scent of garlic and melted cheese filled the house pristine air, grounding you for just a moment. You’d spent the last few hours corralling caterers and avoiding Riri altogether. You had no clue where she was—probably sulking somewhere—but you could feel her presence like static under your skin, the ghost of her attention lingering just out of reach. Always just out of reach.
Outside, the lake shimmered like glass, and golden afternoon light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, pooling across the marble countertops. It looked serene—felt like it should be—but inside, your chest sting. All this quiet, all this beauty, and still, there was something unsettling pacing behind your ribs.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, pretty face,” Zariyah said suddenly, wiping her hands down her fitted jeans, “But is your boyfriend trying to kill you?”
“What?” You blinked, caught off guard, until your eyes landed on her smug smile and the open pizza boxes.
“Oh. Right. With the pizza,” You laughed, dragging a hand over your face. “You know, I never really thought about it, but you might be right.”
“I’d kill him before he even got the chance to harm a single curl on your gorgeous head,” She added, so matter-of-fact you almost choked. “And I mean it.”
You chuckled again, a little tighter this time, reaching for the bags of ice stacked near the sink. As you poured the shards into the cooler, the loud crunch and clatter masked the thrum of your heartbeat. Zariyah had been flirting like this all evening, smoothly, easily, and her attention didn’t feel like a trap, not the way Riri’s did. It was comforting, familiar in a way you couldn’t explain.
It made you think of your sister. Riy was the kind of girl your sister would love and respect. The kind of girl your mother would hate on sight. The type of girl you would never be.
And that thought only pinched harder at your sternum. Because if Korin ever found out about what had been happening—what you’d let happen—between you and Riri, she’d never look at you the same. She’d be disappointed in ways you couldn’t survive. And maybe she’d be right. Maybe this was the kind of thing that couldn’t be forgiven.
“Riri told me about what happened that day I saw you crying.”
Riy’s confession pulled you out of your head, and made your stomach drop down to hell, a hot wave of anxiety burning you all over. Your fingers dug into the counter, gripping it like a lifeline. You were so glad your back was turned. She couldn’t see the panic blooming behind your eyes. “What do you mean?”
“When you ran into me that day, leaving her dorm,” She clarified, voice calm but steady. “I was confused as fuck, so I asked her about it.”
You swallowed, hard. “A-And she told you?” The crack in your voice betrayed you, and you winced.
It was very likely that you were going to faint in front of this gorgeous girl if she indeed knew what happened that day in Riri’s room.
“She said you told her about your home life. Your mom.”
Oh.
Not at all what you were expecting. Not even close. Relief and anger warred inside you, tangling in your throat. Riri had shared something you told her in confidence with someone else, without your consent. It was a breach of trust—a betrayal.
Though you didn’t know how you would’ve handled her actually knowing the real truth. Zariyah was already intimidating in her silence, in her stare, the idea of her knowing what really passed between you and Riri, what still lingered unspoken… was terrifying. You couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d look at you if she knew Riri wanted you, and worse, that you wanted her back.
You understood Riri's instinct to lie, hell, you’d done it yourself not so long ago, spinning a story for Hakeem in the heat of the moment that resulted in this party. You just wished she'd told a different lie, one that excluded your pain.
You cleared your throat, voice flat as you dumped more ice into another cooler. “Yeah, uh… yeah.”
The cubes splashed and cracked, some of them skipping out onto the tiled floor, but you didn’t bother catching them. Your focus narrowed on the existing tightness in your chest getting tighter, the sting behind your eyes, your mother’s voice flashing through your mind, and you felt sixteen again, back in that kitchen, too afraid to speak up.
Your current discomfort was not an act put on to throw Riy off the scent of you and her girlfriend, this was no distraction. These were real feelings, and you hoped the stiffness in your posture would deter her from prying any further.
“I know you don’t know me like that,” Zariyah said, stepping closer, her voice gentler now. “But I just wanted to say… I get it. I know a thing or two about complicated moms. And hating them.”
You shifted toward her slowly, but she wasn’t looking at you anymore, just busy arranging the liquor bottles and mixers, lining them up like soldiers, her profile calm and composed.
“If you ever wanna talk,” She added, “I’m around.”
You stared at her without words, unsure how to receive that kindness you deemed yourself unworthy of. She wouldn't offer it if she knew the full story, so why should you be allowed to take it like this? How was it fair to her?
But that didn't mean you hadn't wanted to accept it.
She offered a small smile, then turned back to the table, and that’s when the devil rounded the corner.
“I need to go. Gotta get ready for the party,” Riri announced as she entered, not even acknowledging you. “Z, baby, you ready?”
Zariyah glanced at you, then back at her girl. “Uh, yeah. Just let me hit the bathroom real quick.” She stopped on her way to the stairs, squeezing your arm as she passed. “I meant what I said. Just think about it.”
With that, she ascended the stairs, leaving you alone with Riri. A tangible silence blanketed the both of you, feeling deceptively calm, like the still air before a summer storm. Riri hadn’t said a word at first, she just stood across the room, watching the stairs until the echo of Riy’s footsteps disappeared into the hush. Then, she moved toward you, impatience fueling her stride.
Her steps measured once she stood directly in front of you, calmer, eyes softening as they landed on yours. Without asking, Riri's hands found your waist, her fingers brushing against the bruise she’d left behind on Thursday, hidden beneath your bodysuit, and just above the waistband of your jeans. You flinched slightly, not in pain, but because the contact was so intimate, so sudden, and you knew she was thinking about it too.
“Riri, are you crazy?! Wha–”
You tried to push her away, but she wouldn't let you. Instead, she pulled you into her fully, arms wrapping around you with the kind of grip that begged for stillness, for safety. She pressed her head against your heart, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
You blinked down at her, lips parted, eyes drowning in want and confusion. “Riri…”
“I’m sorry I’m an ass,” She said, voice muffled against you.
“Oh, so you are aware of that?” You tried to joke, your laughter coming out soft and unsure.
“Yeah.” Her response was quiet. “Just… can’t help it.”
Her arms dropped, and the warmth of her touch vanished just as quickly as it came, leaving your skin cold in its absence. She stepped back a little, but the ghost of her hands lingered on your person.
“Riri, did you just–” You breathed. “You just hugged me.”
“Don’t make it weird, okay?” She groaned, running a hand over her face. “I just… I needed that. Needed to feel you.”
You didn’t say anything at first. You couldn’t. You were still trying to catch up, to make sense of her sudden tenderness. You hadn’t even hugged her back, frozen not out of reluctance, but disbelief. And now, you already missed it. Missed her.
You wanted her touch back, but were you brave enough to ask for it?
It was obvious that Riri could see the longing in your face, the hesitation. The restraint you tried to wrap around yourself like a shield.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” She inquired, her voice low, head tilting slightly in curiosity.
You backed away a step, tried to re-establish some distance, even as your heart pulled toward her. “Doing what to myself?”
“Drop the lost and confused act,” Her voice was firmer now. “That shit don't work on me, I told you that.”
“It’s not an act, Riri. I–”
But she stepped into your atmosphere again after you’d tried to remove her, her body brushing against yours, eyes searching. Her gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Why are you denying yourself the one thing you actually want, beautiful?”
The last word was whispered, like it hurt to say. Like it was too heavy to carry for much longer.
The lighting in the kitchen was different now, with the sun slipping down past the horizon. The fragments of daylight that remained caught Riri’s face in the most cinematic way. Her cheekbones glowed gold, her eyes dark and warm, and for once they were deconstructable. Her curls were kissed in firelight, making her look like something out of a dream, like something you could never have.
You leaned forward before your mind could catch up, forehead brushing against hers, breath mingling in the space between you. Her hands found your waist again, a soft tug pulling you impossibly closer.
You inhaled her, the scent of her skin making your knees weaken.
“I’m– I’m scared,” You whispered. “I want it to be real, but it can’t be. It just… can’t be, okay?”
“I’m real. You’re real.” Her voice cracked slightly in desperation as she massaged your forearms, smoothing her palms up and down the length of them. “Why can’t this be?”
Because Zariyah's footsteps on the stairs were getting closer.
Because Riri wasn’t yours.
Because you didn’t know who you were when you were with her, only that you didn’t want to be anyone else.
Riri didn’t let you go, despite the sound of her girl getting nearer. Not yet. She held you as long as she could, until the soft thud of sandals on the steps reached the last few stairs. That's when she broke away, reluctant to fully give you up. She slipped toward the back door, pausing only once to glance over her shoulder, her lips parting into a seductive grin.
“You look really good, by the way,” She said. “Should’ve said that earlier.”
And then she was gone.
Just as Zariyah reached the bottom step.
“Ri in the car?” Riy asked casually, cracking open a bottle of water and sipping from it like she hadn’t just missed witnessing a full-blown emotional affair.
You nodded, stiffly, opting to forego words.
She nodded back. “Cool. See you at the party.”
And then she walked out to follow after her lover, leaving you in the kitchen alone. You stood there, dazed, chest heaving after you exhaled.
You could breathe again, but you didn’t want to, not if it wasn’t Riri’s air you were inhaling.
•••
The night air was thick with anticipation as you and Hakeem pulled up to the party. You two slid out of the Uber like a headline, rocking coordinated outfits. You were in a black leather miniskirt, tight enough to challenge physics, layered over fishnets stitched with tiny crosses that kissed your thighs. A fitted black crop top hugged your torso, tucked beneath a red-and-black racer jacket that hit just above the waist. Hakeem’s jacket mirrored yours, but it ran full length, clean and sharp. Underneath, he wore a crisp white tee, silver chains catching the streetlights, with black jeans that pulled the whole fit into focus.
Deliberate, but not in a way that was trying too hard.
We look really good next to each other, you thought, lips twitching into a soft smile as he tried looping his arm through yours.
“Keep those eyes shut birthday boy,” You warned, stumbling as you tried to shield his vision with your hands. “You're gonna ruin the surprise!”
Hakeem whined, swatting at your hands in protest as you guided him up the driveway, “But I can't see!”
You rolled your eyes, “That's literally the point, Keem.”
“Not like I don’t know what's going on already. You ruined the surprise weeks ago.”
Eventually, you gave up, sliding your hand into his instead, guiding him toward the porch. The house loomed ahead of you like something out of a movie—tall, dark wood slats glowing softly under strings of multicolored porch lights, the lake behind it glittering silver under the moon.
“Damn, this is nice,” Hakeem muttered, stopping to take it all in. “And you sure this is paid for? Like we not trespassing or breaking and entering, right? Cause I’m too pretty for jail.”
“Boy, bring yo ass on.” You laughed, tugging his hand. “Let’s go inside, damn.”
You texted Riri your ETA ten minutes earlier, but she hadn't replied. Probably because you hadn't responded to the text she sent you, right around the time you were still getting dressed.
i miss you.
You ignored it, didn’t let yourself go near it, because tonight wasn't about the two of you, tonight was about Hakeem. You were leaving your complicated feelings at the door. Or at least, you were trying to. And you could only hope that she would do the same.
You opened the front door, and walked into the dark, eerily quiet space. For a second you weren't sure if there was anyone inside.
“You sure this ain't a set up?” Hakeem whispered as he leaned in, just as taken aback by the silence as you were.
And then… chaos.
“SURPRISE!” The whole house erupted. Streamers flew. Balloons bounced. The bass of the music dropped hard, rattling the hardwood floors. The living room filled in seconds—bodies, flashing lights, the smell of weed and rum already floating in the air.
Damn, did you accidentally invite the whole school?
Beside you, Hakeem was beaming, that boyish grin stretching wide across his face.
“Happy birthday, baby!” You yelled over the music, wrapping your arms snug around him.
He leaned down to kiss you hard, not caring who was watching as he scooped you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his middle, cupping his face and deepening the kiss. You were grinning at him when you pulled away, and you let him place a soft peck on your cheek before placing you back on your feet.
Just as you were trying to find your balance on the ground again, Riri appeared, her presence shaking your core, making you stumble back a bit in that pathetic way that you always did.
She had on a soft pink button-up, left unbuttoned over a plain white tee. Simple, but criminally effective. A pair of oversized, dark-washed jeans caressed her hips, with a clinking set of keys hooked to one belt loop, drawing your eye to the movement at her waist. Gold and pearl-toned chains layered around her neck, catching the low light, swaying in rhythm with her confident steps. Between the shimmer of the jewelry, the glint of her rings, and the quiet arrogance in her posture—Riri looked good. Too good. And resisting her, in this moment, felt like trying to hold your breath underwater.
“Happy birthday old man, love you.” She placed a shot in Hakeem's hand, a half smirk hanging off her lips, “And if you think you bout to pick me up too, think again, nigga.”
But of course, Hakeem ignored her entirely, and picked her up anyway, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She flailed and kicked, the brown liquid in her red solo cup sloshing around and landing on the floor below her.
“Put me down fuck nigga!” She yelled, but it was in vain. “Hakeem! I mean it, put me down!”
You couldn't swallow your laughter, not for a lack of trying. They were so endearing, genuinely. Like siblings almost in the way they bickered.
He finally put her down, laughing as she flipped him off, and then he turned to address the crowd of amused onlookers, “Thank y’all for coming out to celebrate ya boy! None of this would've been possible without my two favorite girls!”
Hakeem pulled you and Riri on either side of him, wrapping strong arms around the both of you, and holding you in place as he continued, “They may hate each other, but they love me more. Shout out to them!”
The crowd erupted like fangirls, the ferocity in their roar startling you.
That was the moment you finally allowed your eyes to find hers—Riri’s. She was watching you from beside him, drink in hand, and the look she gave you made your skin flush hot. Unmistakable lust glinting in her gaze. She didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, didn’t try to hide it.
You wanted to shy away, but the depth of her brown orbs were too alluring, giving you no other option than to stare back.
Luckily, your boyfriend had impeccable timing. He turned to you, holding his hand out with a smirk. “Dance with me?”
And you nodded, letting him pull you into the living room, where the crowd moved like waves in a storm. Bodies grinding, swaying, sticky with sweat and liquor, music throbbing through your chest as you let it take over. You pressed your back against Hakeem’s chest, hips moving with intent. You heard him groan above you, his hands anchoring at your waist, holding you close, and your heart thundered.
But it wasn't for him, not entirely.
You closed your eyes, imagined someone else behind you—smaller, sharper, warmer. Imagined Riri’s breath at your neck, her hands guiding your hips, her voice rough in your ear. And for a moment, it was real, because you could feel her watching you from somewhere in the room. When you moved, so did her eyes, studying the fluidity of your waistline.
You ground against Hakeem harder, making her watch as he skillfully caught your ass each time you threw it back.
“Ima need you to relax,” He grunted into your ear, “before I have to take yo fine ass upstairs.”
The cold kiss of his gold chain brushed your throat, and you giggled breathlessly. “You getting ahead of yourself, birthday boy. A little too freaked out.”
“I can show you freaked out,” He slapped your ass. “Since you want an audience.”
You hated how much that turned you on. Not just him, but the spectacle of it. You could already feel Riri’s rage as she continued to stare from wherever she was. The question now, was what were you planning to do with it?
“I’m gonna get a drink,” You said quickly, peeling yourself off him. “Let you cool off.”
“Running away’s just gonna turn me on more, baby girl.”
You didn't acknowledge him as he called after you, you just walked away, playfully shaking your head.
You slipped your way through the crowd, heart racing, heading right for the kitchen. It was packed in there too, but the energy was calmer, mellow. You grabbed a shot, downed it fast. Wincing. Then poured something else from the array of bottles you watched Zariyah arrange earlier, letting the liquor hit.
Some rapper's voice swelled from the speakers, the bass rattling the cabinets as you stood there humming to yourself.
You were proud of how the party turned out, especially considering it had started as nothing more than a half-baked lie. Hakeem was happy, that was what mattered most. A small smile tugged at your lips as you turned, ready to head back to his side.
But her presence stopped you.
Riri was sitting rigid in the breakfast nook at the far end of the kitchen, jaw tight, her glare sharp enough to stop you mid-step. Whatever warmth had bloomed in your chest withered away in an instant.
The low light bathed her skin, catching the sharp lines of her cheekbones and the restless energy radiating off her. Her curls framed her face like a chaotic cloud, matching the storm simmering behind her eyes. One leg bounced beneath the table, a subtle tremor of impatience she didn’t bother to hide. She brought her cup to her lips, took a languid sip, then lowered it, those dangerous eyes never leaving you.
Fuck.
You quickly spun back around, and downed another shot. You needed all the liquid courage you could stomach if you were going to face her. You tossed back one more shot before forcing your legs to move, and you silently slid into the booth beside her.
“So you like playing games.” She said, voice deceptively soft.
You didn’t answer her right away. Your gaze was stuck, watching the way her throat moved as she took a lengthy pull from her cup. The curve of her mouth around the rim. The way her gold rings caught the light as she tipped it back. She was hypnotic—dangerous—and you hated how easily you got caught in her orbit.
“Only when I know I’ll win.” The words tumbled out, flippant and smug. You knew they’d piss her off. Maybe that’s why you said them.
Riri furrowed her brows at you, genuine confusion coloring her eyes, “Is that what you think you're doing? Winning?”
“Where's Riy?” You asked, deflecting instead of answering her question. “Haven’t seen her yet.”
Riri’s eyes sharpened. “Do I look like I give a fuck where Zariyah is right now? She ain’t what I’m worried about.”
You swallowed. Hard.
“What are you worried about, then, Riri?” You tilted your head, trying to sound casual. But your nerves were firing all wrong. You weren’t used to this version of yourself, the one who instigated, flirted, pushed just to see how far she’d go. You were unraveling by your own hands, and you didn’t even know why.
Well, you did know. But of course you couldn't admit that out loud.
Riri sat back slightly, assessing you with that same heat that always made your heart sprint.
“I’m just a little confused, you see. Because a few hours ago you were talking about how scared you were to do this,” She gestured between the both of you, “But tonight, you show up here with no sense of fear, doing shit to get under my skin. So yeah, I’m confused.”
You looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. She was right. You were confusing. Confused. You were lashing out, using Hakeem, using Riri’s attention, to mask the real issue. You didn’t know how to hold it all, let alone explain it.
But instead of saying that, you bit your lip, looking her up and down, “Well, you was the one looking at me like that when I first got here. So…”
“And your response was to do that shit in front of my face? Really?” She snapped, barely containing herself.
“That shit, was just me dancing with my boyfriend on his birthday.”
Riri sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Mm. That what it was?”
You met her eyes, the alcohol giving you just enough courage. “Would it be anything else?”
Her eyes swirled black, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, matching the rapid speed in which her leg was bouncing beside you. Riri didn't answer. Just looked straight ahead like she was trying to keep herself from saying something she couldn’t take back.
And without thinking, you reached out before you could stop yourself, gently placing a hand on her bouncing knee.
That seemed to be the wrong thing to do.
Because she turned to you with a slow precision, her eyes dragging down to your mouth and settling there, making your pulse spike.
“You know,” She said, voice low and wrecked, “You don’t have to dry hump your boyfriend in public to get my attention.”
She took your hand off her leg, her touch firm, final. Placing it back on your own thigh like it was something too dangerous to be near her.
“You should know by now that you already have it.”
She stood silently after that, walking away and disappearing in the sea of partygoers.
•••
The rest of the night blurred like smeared neon. At one point, someone cannonballed into the lake fully clothed, while another group started a drunken slip-n-slide down the hill toward the water. People were doing body shots on the pool table in the game room, and playing strip Uno in the upstairs den like it was a competitive sport. You were pretty sure someone even set up a karaoke machine in the garage.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, you’d misplaced your boyfriend, hopefully not to the skinny-dipping crowd.
You’d lost track of Riri too, not surprising after the way your last conversation ended. But in her absence, you found the girl she came with, the one with wildfire curls and a way of making you feel like you mattered.
Zariyah had given you one simple job: gather everyone in the kitchen to sing happy birthday, while she grabbed the cake from the basement freezer. A task you should be able to handle… even with the buzz swimming through your veins. And you were doing a stand-up job, surprisingly. You were ushering the dripping, half-naked masses of Hakeem’s so-called friends out of the lake and into the house for cake and towels.
You’d even found him.
In the fucking lake.
Wearing nothing but soaked boxers, with water cascading down his smooth, carved chest. Your eyes lingered on his deep brown skin longer than you wanted them to, and it took everything in you to drag your gaze away, to stop gawking at your own boyfriend like some teen with a crush.
But of course, he caught it. “You checking me out, baby girl?”
You rolled your eyes with practiced ease, though your flushed cheeks told another story. “And if I was?”
He waded closer to you as he climbed out of the water, every inch of him glistening, like some over-the-top cologne commercial. “Then I’d ask if you see something you like.”
You tried to hold your ground, but the way he looked at you—with that stupid smirk and heat in his eyes—you nearly melted. Hakeem had always looked at you like you hung the damn moon.
You swallowed, smirked, and decided to be evil.
“Zariyah wants everyone inside to sing happy birthday in the next thirty minutes,” You said sweetly, stepping back just before he could get too close. “So go dry off, lover boy.”
He let out a low laugh, shaking water from his hair like a dog, splashing you on purpose. “You always dodging me when I get you right where I want you,” He teased, but still turned toward the rest of the lake crew anyway, becoming a general barking orders, and they all began to scatter.
You walked back up toward the house, biting back a smile. God, he was annoying. And you were maybe a little too good at slipping away.
As you circled toward the front porch, you didn’t expect much, it had been the quietest spot all night, uneventful and still, like the eye of a storm.
But it wouldn't hurt to check.
And it was there that you stumbled upon a rather stoic looking Riri Williams. She was hunched slightly on the edge of the patio railing, smoke curling from the end of the blunt pinched between her fingers, eyes tracking the dark lake ahead, like it held answers she couldn’t bear to ask for.
You stepped softly, unsure whether to disturb the silence. “Oh. Hey.”
It came out quieter than you meant for it to, barely audible, and for a moment you thought maybe she hadn’t heard you. But then she exhaled a gust of smoke through her nose, slow and practiced, as if acknowledging you without looking your way.
“Zariyah wants everyone in the kitchen. You know… for the cake. Singing and all that.” Your voice was gentler now, hoping to soften whatever wall she’d bricked up since you two spoke earlier in the night.
Riri glanced at you, eyes shadowed and bored, her jaw ticking just before she muttered, “What are you, like her lap dog now?”
The insult struck a chord inside you. “No,” You fired back, straightening where you stood. “We’re friends.”
“Right.” She didn’t bother hiding her doubt, her voice a flat blade.
“You know it is possible to be friends with someone,” You continued, defensively. “Just because you’re a dickhead to everyone doesn’t mean the rest of us operate that way. Some people are actually nice.”
Riri let out a dry scoff, the kind that scraped the air more than it filled it, flicking the ash from the end of her blunt, and put it out on the railing, rubbing the embers into the wood with unnecessary pressure.
A mosquito buzzed past your ear, and you fanned it away, still eyeing her. From inside, the music swelled—Kiana Ledé—pulsing through the walls like a heartbeat you couldn’t escape. Still, this corner of the porch felt miles away from the rest of the party somehow, like its own little purgatory.
You tried again, reminding yourself that tonight was about your boyfriend. “Are you coming in or not? Thought you were giving your big speech as Keem’s best friend or whatever.”
That made her laugh. A short, grim sound that didn’t quite reach her blown eyes. “Oh yeah. My big, heartfelt speech as his best friend, or whatever.” She stood slowly, the railing creaking behind her as she shifted her weight and stepped down. “Sure. I’ll go in and sing happy birthday to him, then recite some half-assed words about how much I love and cherish our friendship while secretly thinking about how I have feelings for his girlfriend.”
She said it like a joke. Like a bit, but you didn't dare laugh.
You could hear the jagged edge under her voice, the way it cracked like glass under pressure. She tried to sound unaffected, but you were learning her too well. This wasn’t sarcasm. This was self-destruction, dressed up as snark.
You pressed your back against one of the porch beams, arms crossed, heart thudding, and you sighed. “Riri, don’t do this. Not here. Not tonight.”
She turned to you then, really looked at you, and for a second, she looked haunted. Not just angry or jealous or bitter, but lost, utterly and completely. Like she didn’t know how to pull herself out of the hole she was digging, but couldn’t seem to stop shoveling either.
And beneath all that was the worst part:
You knew exactly how she felt.
“If not here then where? If not now, then when?” They emerged quiet from her throat—the words—distressed at the corners—a thread on the verge of snapping. You examined her typically perfect features, noticing their wreckage beneath the moonlight. Her eyes were wide and wounded, jaw set in place like she was holding herself together with sheer will.
It gutted you.
You wanted to rush over to her, and press your body to hers just to keep her shattered pieces from falling apart. But you fought the urge to. You couldn’t. Not here. Not tonight. So you remained planted where you were, hip pressed into the porch railing, frozen for your own piece of mind.
“Riri,” You murmured, voice hoarse. “Do you really think this is appropriate? At his birthday party, really?”
She didn’t flinch. If anything, the spark in her eyes burned hotter.
“I think we’re way past what’s appropriate, don’t you?” She said, easing in closer.
You swallowed thickly, the night air kissing your bare skin. But it wasn’t the breeze making you shiver, it was her. The way her words curved into you like a knife, stabbing and slicing away at your forced composure.
“Ri–”
“Ain’t shit appropriate about the way I think about you,” She confessed, each syllable launching her deeper into your bounds, her voice low, and close enough that it felt like a secret murmured into your ear. “The shit I picture every time you walk in a room, do you have any idea what Hakeem would do to me if he knew?”
Air strangled your lungs.
Her fingers found your waist, all magnetic in their attraction. She trailed over the sliver of skin left exposed beneath your cropped jacket, making you jump, every nerve ending in your body igniting in a fast fire, like they had been awaiting her touch.
“Riri, what are you doing?” You whispered your question, voice trembling with restraint, even though your hands didn’t move to stop her.
Her palm slid lower, and lower, curling around the swell of your hip. “You look like this,” She rasped, eyes dragging across every inch of you, “And you expect me to keep it together? You want me to keep pretending?”
You were cornered by her gaze—drowning in it. Your body leaned in, even as your conscience begged you to pull away. But again, she was magnetic in that way. “This is-isn't fair.”
Your words were a desperate plea, for something and everything all at once.
Riri’s fingers brushed the curve of your ass possessively, fingernails burrowing in. “You’re goddamn right it’s not,” She growled. “It ain't fair that I can’t have the one thing on this earth that I know that I want.”
You inhaled sharply, your pulse thudding in your ears. “I meant for Hakeem. It’s not fair to him.”
Riri’s jaw flexed. “Right. Cause it's always about him for you, huh?”
Her voice was full of pain, and something more volatile—envy, desperation, maybe both.
“He’s my boyfriend,” You said, eyes flickering toward the door like some part of you feared he might appear. “And he’s your best friend.”
“I know all of that and I still want you.”
She leaned forward, lips hovering just shy of yours. Her breath was warm against your cheek. “I know I’m not making this shit up in my head.”
“You're not…” You admitted, finally exhaling the words that were clogging your chest. “I– I just– this would wreck him. And what about Zariyah, she–”
Riri grabbed your face then, holding you together with her bare hands, grounding you in a reality where it was just the two of you. “They are non factors when it comes to you and me. I don’t care what this would do to them. I care what not doing this is doing to us. To you.”
This house. This lake. This night. All of it felt like a dream spinning too fast.
You swallowed, throat constricted, “We can't…”
“Why?” She whispered, her forehead pressing against yours now. “I already told you I don’t care about Hakeem or Zariyah. So tell me why. Not why we shouldn’t, tell me why we can’t.”
You felt dizzy, like the world had narrowed down to Riri’s mouth and the inches left between you. You were suffocating in your own skin, thoughts spiraling. You heard your mom’s voice, felt the shame, the fear, the guilt. Hakeem’s laugh from earlier. Zariyah’s undeserved kindness. Your sister’s imagined disappointment. Your own. But under it all, buried deeper than the fear, was want. Need.
You’d never wanted anything, or anyone more.
Riri’s thumbs dabbed your cheeks, swatting away tears you didn't even know were falling. “You know what it does to me, seeing you with him? Watching him touch you, kiss you, hold you in all the ways I want to? In all the ways you won’t let me?”
Her voice cracked. “It fucking tears me apart. And I hate him for it. I hate myself for it. Because I want you whole. I want every piece of you and I could have it if you’d just… stop running from yourself.”
You blinked back another well of tears, exhaling a wet gust of air.
“Give in, baby,” She begged, her words barely holding together. “Please, give in to me. To us.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. Your chest was aching, lungs heaving with constraints you hadn't the strength to carry anymore. You’d spent your whole life being afraid. Pretending. Hiding. But here, now, with Riri—so close, so open—it didn’t make sense to keep lying.
She was gripping onto your jacket for dear life, tugging you to her, as though you'd slip through her fingers if she let go, “Give yourself to me, and I promise I’ll make all of this worth it. Please… I–I promise.”
It was this plea that shattered you.
You closed the gap between you without words, crashing your lips into hers, hungry, gasping, frenzied. She tasted like sweetness, and smoke, and something thrillingly forbidden. You walked her back until her spine was against the side of the house, the collision loud and cracking. But Riri didn't seem to mind the pain—she moaned into the kiss, wordlessly encouraging you to continue. Your fingers found her curls, just as hers groped your ass beneath your skirt, hiking it up and exposing your bare flesh to the night air.
Riri gasped, lips parting beneath yours. The kiss was a confession, an apology, and a surrender all rolled into one.
You were each other's oxygen.
Her tongue met yours in slow, sweeping movements, building heat between every shared intake of air. Her hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, tugging at your waistband, sliding up and between your thighs. She cupped your hot cunt through your stockings, and you whimpered into her throat, your knees weakening beneath you from the sensation. “Fuck baby, you're this wet already? This the typa shit that get you going?”
The pressure made your head spin, your eyes roll. You clutched at her shoulders, balling her shirt in your fingers as your hips rolled instinctively into her palm. “Mmm…”
“I-I want you, Ri. Needing you is like breathing to me,” You confessed in between kisses. “And when you're not with me, it feels like someone sucked all the air from inside me. I can't keep living like that.”
“You won't have to anymore, I promise.”
She sucked at the column of your throat, trailing wet heat down your skin. Her hand moved to grip your ass again, and you knew, if you didn’t stop this now, she would fuck you right here. Right now.
“Baby girl, you out here?”
Shit.
Hakeem.
Panic detonated behind your ribs like a bomb, and you and Riri pulled apart as though you’d been electrocuted, scrambling to fix your hair, your clothes, your faces. Riri ran a hand through her curls, and retreated toward the shadows just as you stepped into the light.
You scurried up to the door, tossing her a fearful look just as your now fully clothed and mostly dried boyfriend peeked his head out the screen door.
“Oh, hey baby,” You said, voice shrill. “Was just coming in for the cake. Riy sent me to find Riri so she could give her big bestie speech.”
Lying was not your game.
Hakeem’s smile twitched just slightly when he spotted Riri behind you. “A speech? For me?”
He stepped aside to let you both through the door.
Riri, ever so smooth and distracting, bumped his shoulder on her way in. “Yes nigga, cause I know you like that sappy shit.”
“I can’t help it. I just love being loved.” Hakeem cooed, and they fell seamlessly back into their established rhythm.
You don't know how she did it, but you had to give it to Riri for taking all the pressure off you, and shifting the energy. If it were left up to you, your cover would've surely been blown.
Inside, the kitchen buzzed with people still filing in. You spotted Zariyah, standing at the island, the cake lit and glowing with planet-shaped candles. You, Riri, and Hakeem pushed through the crowd, carving out space at the front. You ended up on one side of your boyfriend, Riri on the other, all of you circled around him like satellites. And you stole a glance at her, noting the smirk that seemed cemented into her face.
As the crowd broke into “Happy Birthday,” your voice joined in on autopilot, but your mind was gone, still reeling from the most electrifying kiss of your life. You’d finally gone there with Riri Williams, crossed that line you could never return from.
“Alright, everybody calm down!” Riri called, raising her red Solo cup in the air as she began her speech. “We’re gonna take a shot for my best friend in the whole world. We’re here to celebrate you, Keem. I love you, bro, you already know...”
The room whooped and hollered in response, but your attention drifted. You bit your lip, smiling quietly to yourself.
You hadn’t regretted it. Not even a little.
•••
The party had finally thinned, bodies spilling out of the house in a slow, drunken exodus. Laughter and footsteps echoed across the driveway as the last few stragglers disappeared into the night. Somehow, miraculously, the house stood untouched. No broken furniture, no trashed bathrooms. Just the distant scent of weed, spilled liquor, and a buzzing silence.
You lingered in the kitchen, half-focused as you brewed a fresh pot of coffee, the clinking of ceramic mugs and the whirr of the machine grounding you. But your mind drifted somewhere else entirely. Still on the patio, still back in Riri’s mouth.
“We're all staying the night, right?” Zariyah’s voice cut through your haze. She was barefoot now, hair a little frizzy from dancing. “Cause I won’t mind taking advantage of that rich people water pressure.”
“I’m down,” Hakeem called, already halfway slumped in the breakfast nook, but perking up at the thought of sleep.
You felt the shift before you saw it, three sets of eyes landing on you all at once, waiting for your agreed response.
“What?” You blinked, confused as their stares pulled you back to reality.
“Do you wanna stay?” Hakeem asked, all big brown eyes and stupid charm.
“Uh… sure,” You muttered, stirring sugar into your cup of coffee just to have something to do with your hands.
He grinned, “Sweet!” And pushed off the counter with renewed energy. “I already picked our room.”
He came around the island, dropping a sloppy kiss to your cheek that made you recoil just a bit, but not enough for him to notice. It was soft and warm, but it didn’t burn. Not like Riri’s still did, even now.
“Thanks again for the party, y’all. I love y’all!” He hollered, jogging up the stairs all giddy.
Riri’s eyes were on you the minute you turned around. Watching, studying, the glint of pride shining in them confirming what you already knew. She’d seen the way your body flinched when Hakeem kissed you. And she was being smug about it, like she’d won something, claiming your reaction as her prize.
“I’m in for the night too,” Zariyah chimed, stretching with a satisfied sigh. Then, as if it had been premeditated, she turned to Riri with a grin sharp enough to slice right through you. “Wanna join me in the shower, Ri?”
The words were all sultry invitation, and you hated how easily they slid off her tongue.
Riri didn’t answer right away. No, she had to smirk at you first. Bite her lip, and take her time rising from her bar stool like the devil herself, her gaze exacted on you the whole damn time.
“Yeah,” She murmured, matching the seductive way Riy slurred her words. “I’m coming, Z.”
Your stomach twisted, bile threatening to spill out your throat. You wanted to protest, to stop her in her tracks and ask what she thought she was doing, but Riri didn't give you a chance.
“Night,” She said. One word. Casual. Cruel. Final.
Then she was gone, sauntering up the stairs like she hadn’t just shattered you with a smile on her face. You hated her. God, you wanted her. And tonight, it felt like both were the same thing.
Eventually, you made your way upstairs, feet dragging beneath you, your stomach still twisting with every imagined image of Riri—naked, wet, laughing in the steam of the upstairs shower with Zariyah. After everything she’d said to you. After everything she’d pulled out of you, this was the treatment you got?
You weren’t naïve. You didn’t expect her to stop sleeping with Zariyah overnight just because she kissed you like you were air, and she hadn’t breathed in months. But doing it here, under the same roof, felt sort of callous.
You lay curled on your side in one of Hakeem’s oversized tees, the cotton barely skimming the top of your thighs, your thoughts racing in a dozen directions at once. The quiet of the room was too loud, thick with emotions you wanted gone, and the faint sound of running water from somewhere in the house only made your skin crawl. You knew whose shower it was. You knew.
“What’s on your mind, baby girl?” Hakeem’s voice came low and easy, his freshly showered body sliding in behind you in the sheets, his skin still warm, smelling like body wash. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in, chin resting against your shoulder.
“Nothing important,” You lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did you enjoy your party?”
He hummed into your back, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw. “Yeah. It was perfect.”
You smiled despite the ache in your chest, tilting your head back to look at him. “Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?”
Hakeem lifted his head then, eyes catching yours in the dark, housing a softness in his gaze, one quickly eclipsed by something more… primal.
“Maybe there’s one thing I didn’t get.”
“What’s that?”
“You,” He said simply, and you felt how much he meant it. How much he wanted you.
“Me?” You questioned, the pool between your legs tingling at the husk in his voice.
He nodded, pupils blown wide, his fingers ghosting under the hem of your shirt, palming your naked ass. “I wanna taste you… Can I, baby girl? Please?”
The words lingered between you like a spark, intensifying the throb at your center. Your chest rose sharply as you stared at him, swallowing the thud of your heartbeat.
Riri’s voice flickered in your memory: “Give yourself to me…”
You did, but she hadn’t. Not really. She gave you her mouth, her hands, her fire—and then she handed it to someone else two rooms over. So why shouldn’t you give yourself to the boy who’d never stopped asking? The boy who you knew would treasure all of you, and never make you feel replaceable.
Your lips separated around a breath, and you nodded.
This permission changed something in your boyfriend. Hakeem’s touch turned reverent, hands gliding beneath the shirt to explore skin he’d only ever fantasized about. His mouth found yours, rough and deep, tongue dancing over yours with just enough pressure to make your toes curl. When he pulled the shirt over your head, his eyes roamed your body like a man seeing starlight for the first time.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He praised, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, the soft skin of your chest.
You let him leave lasting marks, tender and harsh at the same time, and when you guided him downward, his mouth followed—worshipful. Every press of his lips erased a fraction of the weight you’d been carrying. Every soft moan that escaped your mouth was a sound you’d been dying to release all night.
And when his mouth found your wet heat—open, eager—your back arched, fingers tangling in the sheets.
He groaned softly against you, like you were everything, and he could drown in you. For a moment, you let him.
You let yourself feel good.
Even if it was the memory of his best friend’s lips that ultimately pushed you over the edge.
summary: some truths were easier to swallow in silence. you spent years mastering the art of denial, molding yourself into the image you were told to uphold. but denial had sharp edges. and when riri touched a part of you you thought lived buried, it began to tear you apart, thread by careful tread.
word count: 9.8k
contents: mommy issues(we all have em!), reader being in her feelings, hakeem might be on to something, yearning, yearning, and more yearning, confessions, crying, complicated family dynamics, riri being riri, angst!!!!
note: sooooooo here we are. this was actually so fun to write. angst is always soo fun! CHEATING STARTS NEXT CHAPTER! and then it's only up from there! giving y'all permission to yell at me now, it's okay! hehe! anyway, i hope you enjoy this chaotic, poetic, disaster that i've concocted. mwah mwahh! <33
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“What was Riri doing here?” Hakeem hadn't even let the door click shut behind him before bombarding you with the pressing question. His tempered voice held a calm edge, but accusation bobbed beneath it.
You sighed, eyes drifting over your intentionally curated space, searching for something to help steady your heart and mind. But tonight, the typically lulling autumn tones of your home had no comfort to provide. Instead, the room seemed to be closing in around you, the shrinking walls shoving you closer to Hakeem and the unanswered question permeating the tension-thick air.
It almost felt like a punishment, one you possibly deserved.
You still hadn't looked at your boyfriend, the expectant silence ringing in your ears as you shamefully averted his stare.
Impatience radiated off him in microwaves, making you nauseous. “Hello? You don't hear me talking to you?”
If only you were to be so lucky.
You wished you hadn't heard him. You wished he hadn't spoken at all, because his question wasn't one you foresaw yourself answering. Mostly because you hadn't an answer to give. You were already asking yourself the same thing over and over in your head, making yourself dizzy each time you came up short. You wanted to move on, and forget that Riri was even here to begin with.
Huffing another defeated breath, you finally forced yourself to meet his eyeline, and instantly regretted it.
His dark eyes pinned you in place, worry lines etched deeply into his forehead as his brows knitted together. Hakeem loomed in your doorway like a quiet storm, hands stuffed in his pockets, yet somehow managing to command the room with an intensity that made your stomach twist. He wasn’t doing much—just watching—but it was enough to make you feel exposed, like he was dissecting you with every glance.
God, you were so grateful you'd ventured further into the apartment than he did—had you been closer to him—his stare would've surely worn you down.
He wasn't speaking, just waiting expectantly, his patience unnerving. You could see the gears in his head turning as he tried assembling a puzzle he couldn't quite see yet. And worse, you knew he was looking to you for the missing pieces. Pieces you didn’t have, pieces you couldn’t give, you were working with a different puzzle entirely.
“We uh…” You began, your trembling pitch jumping higher than intended, “got paired up on a project for class.” You cleared your throat, willing yourself to sound steady, but it didn't help.
He took a deliberate step closer to you, closing the gap you created between you. Instinctively, you stepped back a little, your eyes darting to his expression, stone-set, unyielding. Your breath hitched as you gulped, his towering frame making you feel small and cornered.
“When?” Hakeem asked, his voice dry, clipped.
“Today,” You answered quickly, blinking up at him anxiously.
His chin dipped once, then again, before he inhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the quiet. “And why you ain’t told me none of this when we was on the phone earlier?” He asked, his tone calm but laced with something heavy, something that made your pulse race.
Why hadn't you mentioned Riri? Or at the very least, the project? It wasn't like you forgot, you told Riri to come over and you’d expected her to, hoped she would even. So why had you neglected to tell your boyfriend?
Your lips parted, but there was an absence of words as you found your eyes drifting over to the couch a few paces away, and to the memory that was now attached to it.
Your mind raced back to the way Riri had looked at you, the soft smile lingering on her lips, the warmth that had filled the room when it was just the two of you. You could still feel Riri’s presence, like a ghost hovering at the edge of your senses, and the thought of it stirred a quiet ache in your chest. You wanted to push it all down, to ignore the confusion clawing its way up, but with Hakeem standing there, that was impossible. His eyes searched your face, waiting for an explanation you didn’t have.
“Don't know,” You whispered airily, trying to feign nonchalance,“Slipped my mind I guess.” You weren't looking at him as you finished, too immersed in the memories of the line you’d almost crossed, and the desperation birthed from your want to cross it—with Riri.
She’d seen the desire in your eyes, damn near tasted it on your haunted breaths. And it was safe to assume she felt the same. Hadn't she admitted it in her own way? You could still see the spark in her gaze, hear the low husk in her voice, like she was fighting her own war against the pull between you.
But what did it mean? To her? For you?
It couldn't mean anything, not to her. And it sure as hell could not, under any circumstances mean anything, for you. You were not like her. You were not… like that. You were raised differently. You… were raised right.
You did not like girls.
How could you like girls? You wore pretty dresses and dainty jewelry your whole life. You were compliant, didn't act out, didn't stray from the path. You were soft-spoken and modest—the complete opposite of Riri and Zariyah, and… your sister. A good girl. The type of girl boys wanted to be with. Boys like Hakeem.
Hakeem. His name pulled you back to reality, the reality where he stood before you, eyes wild and sharp, his energy filling the space like a warning. He was still waiting, still watching, still anticipating a response to whatever it was he'd said—or asked—while you were zoned out, lost in your thoughts about his best friend.
He was the type of guy you were supposed to be with. Steady, dependable, exactly the kind of man your mother expected you to be with. And you liked Hakeem. He made sense. Your feelings for him made sense.
But fuck, this was all too much! Too confusing. Too frustrating. You couldn't even concentrate on a specific feeling when there were twelve more barreling toward you with every passing second. And why was Hakeem still talking, for fucks sake?
“It slipped your mind to tell me that my best friend, who you don't even like, was coming over here? Since when do you miss any opportunity to complain about Riri?” His voice climbed, impatience weaving through his words, and it grated against your fraying nerves.
The accusations, the tones, the relentless questioning—you couldn't take it anymore.
So you snapped, “Do I gotta tell you every fucking thing I do? You need a goddamn copy of my schedule? Should I put a sign-in sheet outside my door so you can know who’s been here?!” Your voice cut through the air as you pushed past him, stomping over to the coffee table. You shut your forgotten laptop with a sharp clap, snatching up Riri’s leftover fries with shaking hands.
“I’m just tryna figure out what the hell is going on here,” Hakeem clipped back, his tone low and tight, his confusion mixing with irritation as he followed you across the room. “Why the hell are you yelling?! The fuck?”
You whirled on him, heat pulsing through your chest. “Cause who the fuck you talking to?! Coming up in my shit accusing me of whatever the fuck your paranoid ass conjured up in your head! And I don’t fucking appreciate being interrogated in my own home! Like who the hell gave you the ri–”
“Y’all were the ones acting weird as fuck when I got here,” He interjected, his voice jagged, cutting through yours. “Not answering phones, sweating, moving all cagey. Riri said like two words to me before she bolted, and you took three damn years to tell me why she was even here! The vibe was fucking off!”
He had a point. You couldn’t deny that. But it was too late now to back down.
“So what conclusion did you come to?” You shot back, your words sharp, dripping with sarcasm. “Since you’re so in tune with vibes and shit?”
You turned your back on him, retreating to the kitchen, gripping onto the excuse of unloading the dishwasher to keep your hands busy and your mind off his presence.
“I don’t know what conclusion to come to,” Hakeem muttered, his voice closer than you expected. “But something ain't feel right. Still don’t. Feels like you’re lying to me about something, and this whole damn argument is just to distract me from that. The fuck else am I supposed to think when I show up to see you, alone, with somebody you claim to hate, dressed like–”
“We were planning your surprise party! Fuck, there!” You blurted, the words exploding from you before you could think them through. The lie barely sounded believable in your own head, but it was all you had.
In the sudden silence, your grip slipped on a cup, and it clattered to the floor, the clang cutting through the tension like a slap.
“Man, don’t even–”
You spun to face him, exhaling hard as you held up your hands. “Hakeem, I’m serious. Your birthday is literally a few weeks away, and we wanted to do something nice for you, jeez!”
He stared at you, his brows still furrowed, suspicion lingering just beneath the surface. “Thought you said you were working on a project,” He pressed, his voice cautious.
“That’s still true,” You answered quickly, forcing your tone to remain calm. “Dr. Lucas paired us up earlier, and we were working on it. Then we got to talking about you to fill the awkwardness, and we decided to put our differences aside to plan the best party ever. All for you.” You added a smile, hoping to sell the lie.
Hakeem stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gave you a long, assessing look. He bent down, scooping up the fallen cup, his movements slow and deliberate as he placed it in the cupboard above your head. “A surprise party. Really?”
“Really,” You said, your voice quieter now, barely steady. “But it ain't much of a surprise anymore now that you ruined it.”
“And y’all just dropped all the bullshit y’all got going on, just like that? For me?”
You blinked, relief washing over you as you watched his face soften, the tension slipping away. His lips tugged into that familiar dimple edged grin, the one that had always made you feel safe. “Yes, baby. For you. And Riri already apologized to me a little while ago. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if I accepted it yet. But tonight helped me decide, once I saw how much she cares about you.”
Your voice softened on the last part, though not for the reasons you let Hakeem believe. Had you forgiven Riri? You didn’t want to. But there was something else there, a feeling, or rather feelings that you refused to name, that made it impossible to keep up appearances.
Hakeem pulled you close, his long arms wrapping around your waist as he grinned down at you, his hands curling firmly over your ass. “I’m glad y’all figuring your shit out. And I’m glad y’all can finally be alone without trying to kill each other,” He said, his voice dipping into something low and possessive as his grip tightened. “But don’t ever let me see you dressed like this in front of anyone who ain’t me, again.”
You giggled, leaning into his touch. “Oh?”
“Yeah. All this shit mine,” He muttered, his hand coming down on your ass with a firm smack. “I hope you know that.”
You hadn't gifted him an answer, only a smirk, as you stood on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, and he moaned into your mouth, lifting you up and placing you on the counter. The kiss was rough, needy, your hands clawing at him as if trying to forget everything else in the heat of the moment, reveling in the thunderous heartbeat at your core, and your growing wetness.
Riri didn’t do this to you, you thought, as Hakeem pressed against you. She couldn’t. Only Hakeem did, because he was a boy. No girl could ever make you feel this way—because it was wrong—because it wasn’t how you were designed.
•••
Between wet kisses, and greedy touches, you finally convinced Hakeem to spend the night in his own bed. He hadn't wanted to leave, not after your fight.
“I hate it when we fight.” He’d murmured into your breath, wet lips prolonging what was supposed to be a simple goodnight peck.
You’d giggled into his mouth, “Well, we aren't now.”
That seemed to satisfy him, as he'd left shortly after that, grinning, albeit still reluctant.
And now, here you were, lying alone in your sheets, wide awake, avoiding sleep’s undertaking.
The apartment felt impossibly quiet now. The air, thick with the lingering scent of Hakeem’s cologne and the faint whisper of Riri’s presence, wrapped around you like a contradiction, warm and familiar, yet suffocating all the same. You were staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, willing your stubborn mind to still, begging it to forget her.
As much as you craved slumber, you knew the second your eyelids fluttered shut, Riri would be there, burned into the backs of them, staining the darkness with her image.
The ghost of her haunted your apartment like she planned to make a home for herself in your space. She clung to your couch cushions, the pillows in your bed, the mattress she’d never lain in. She nestled into the hollows of your ribcage when you inhaled, as though she were meant to be there, claiming it as her final resting place.
This was a step up from merely a haunting—this was a Possession. A possession of you. And all that you were.
Exercising her from your being proved impossible, not for a lack of trying. But every thought, every fantasy led back to Riri. And her deep eyes. Her full lips, hovering barely a whisper away from yours. Even though Hakeem had just left, you sensed her everywhere. It was her voice you heard echoing off your walls—her warmth you felt—not his. And it made your stomach flip.
Fuck!
It would be so easy to roll over, to close your eyes, let exhaustion pull you under. Surrender to dreams of sun-warmed brown skin, delicate features, and the aching pull of unspoken longing. But you couldn't. Your head rejected the idea outright.
You felt wired, frenzied beneath your own skin. Like your flesh hadn't belonged to you at all. You were a foreigner in your own body, your own mind.
Your behavior tonight was entirely out of character. Contrasting everything you’ve ever done, felt, or thought. This wasn't you.
This was… wrong.
You were just confused.
That's what your mother would say. That's what she did say. To your sister, the day she brought Andy home.
•••
You surveyed the girl’s tall, slender stature. She wore a complexion that mirrored your own—but that was where the similarities ended. She was dressed in boy’s clothes, loose-fitting and unshapely, swallowing the softness you expected to see in a girl. She didn’t fit the image you’d always associated with femininity.
She was an anomaly, and you could still remember the way your mother’s face twisted when she first laid eyes on her, as if Korin had brought home something unrecognizable, something wrong.
“Andy? That's your name, Andy?” Your mother chuckled, but the sound lacked the amusement that typically accompanied laughter. It was the same laugh she used when politely dismissing things she found ridiculous, the kind that let you know exactly what she thought without her ever having to say it.
Andy however, was utterly oblivious. She had no way of knowing what lurked beneath the surface of that laugh, no way of catching the sharpness hidden in the curve of your mother’s lips. So she only smiled, unbothered, untouched. “Andrea. But I prefer Andy. Always have.
But you knew. And if you were aware, that meant your sister had picked up on it too. The indignation in your mother’s tone was subtle, but it sat in the shadows of every word, curling around them like smoke, thick and suffocating.
“Your mama named you Andrea, so that’s what I’m gon call ya.” Another chuckle, another thinly veiled jab. Then, as if the moment had passed, she waved Andy inside. “Now, come on in this kitchen, let me fix you a plate.”
Her faux politeness dissipated the moment Andy left out the front door, fading like a candle snuffed out, no longer flickering light, no longer providing warmth. Her smile slackened on her lips, the previous hospitality had dwindled to almost nothing. And when she was certain Andy had been gone entirely, she felt there was no more need for subtly.
You recounted that night like it was yesterday. Remembered where you were, what you were doing. You were in the kitchen, clearing the dishes off the table when Korin reentered the living room.
Your mother had settled onto the left side of the couch, eyes glued to the TV as she flipped through the channels. She hadn’t looked up, hadn’t moved to acknowledge Korin at all. She didn’t need to. Her frigid demeanor spoke well enough.
Yet still, she decided to vocalize her disdain, “Don't bring that girl back to my house Korin. You hear me? Just cause you let her confused ass confuse you too, don't mean Ima invite that into my home. Don't know why you think living like that is okay.”
Your mother shuffled on the couch, adjusting her legs so she would be more comfortable. “Cause it ain't.”
You’d long abandoned your chores, your attention caught by your mother's ignorant monologue. Your hands were still clutching the damp dish towel as you stood frozen in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.
Your mother kept on like she didn’t just slice into the room with words sharp enough to draw blood. She leaned back on the couch, legs crossed, face as mean as ever.
“That ain’t how I raised y’all,” She muttered, almost to herself. “Not to be out here holdin hands and playing house with some lil’ girl dressed like a damn boy. What that say about me as a mother?”
Korin stood in the middle of the room, still and quiet. Her back was straight, chin lifted, but you could not ignore the tension in her jaw—a thing that seemed to live there now—permanently etched into her face. She held her shoulders like armor. She didn’t speak. She hardly ever did these days.
Your mother huffed. “Don’t bring that mess in here no more, Korin. I mean it. I still got one daughter that's probably gon be worth a damn. Won’t have her thinking it's okay just cause she see yo narrow ass doing it.”
She hadn’t looked at you when she said it. Didn’t need to. You felt the crushing weight of her words anyway.
But Korin did. She looked at you. She turned her head. Slowly. Purposefully.
And your eyes locked.
You hadn’t said a word. Not to defend her. Not to call out your mother. Not even to leave the room. The hurt in Korin’s eyes was quiet, deep—not because of your mother. She was used to that by now.
It was you.
You sensed it in the accusing way her gaze lingered, more disappointed than angry. She had expected you to say something. And deep down, you knew she always did.
But you never did.
Never when your mother made her snide remarks. Never when she spat out words like “confused” or “wrong.” Never when she reduced Korin’s identity to a phase, a rebellion, a stain on her parenting.
You’d always just… stayed silent.
And Korin always just took it.
She didn’t defend herself. Didn’t plead her case.
She just gave you a final glance—one that spoke all the words she digested—and turned away.
Her footsteps were quiet, measured, as she disappeared up the stairs. The soft click of her bedroom door overhead might as well have been a slammed one.
•••
You broke your sister’s heart that night—clean cut—right down the center, splitting open a bond already bruised, and leaving behind a fracture that never quite healed.
A fracture that still existed today. Years later, you still carried the shame of abandoning her in that moment, leaving her to fend for herself beneath the weight of your mother’s judgment. You bore the guilt of never speaking up, never letting her know that you saw her, that you understood her identity wasn’t a phase. That she wasn’t confused.
You were.
Korin had always known who she was, despite your mother's false claims. She was confident in a way you weren't. She didn’t question herself, not like you did.
Deep down, you knew the reason you never spoke up, or questioned your mother on your sister's behalf was because you couldn't. Couldn't fathom the idea that she could speak that way about her own child. Couldn't believe her words, her audacity. She was cruel just for the sake of it, and the realization stunned you into silence and compliance.
And look what good that did. Compliance left you without your sister, her love, and her guidance.
Especially now, when you needed her most.
You were drowning in the emotions that stirred whenever Riri was near—their heat, their pull, their maddening intensity. The why. The how. The forbidden what-if.
They were so easily identifiable.
Longing. Desire. Want. Lust.
And perhaps that was what unsettled you most—that you could name them so cleanly. You weren't confused. The truth didn’t hide from you at all. You were the elusive one, sprinting away from what was, and what is.
Maybe, deep down, you’d always known you’d end up in a situation like this. And still, nothing could have prepared you for the ache of not having your sister to turn to.
Korin would’ve known exactly what to say, and what to do, without needing a second to think. There was a time when reaching out to her would’ve been instinct, not a decision you had to weigh. No hesitation. No pride standing in the way.
Maybe you still could.
Maybe, you should.
Blindly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, fingers trembling. The bright screen stung your tired eyes as it flickered to life. You hesitated before tapping the contacts icon, scrolling slowly. Your thumb hovered once you reached the Ks, pausing over the name that had lived untouched in your phone for years.
A sharp jolt of adrenaline surged through you, and before you could change your mind, you hit the call button.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times–
“Hello?”
Groggy, distant, familiar. A voice wrapped in childhood, in memories you’d tucked away. A voice you would recognize across lifetimes.
Your breath caught, tears pooling in your eyes before you could even register you were speaking. “Korin.”
“Baby sis? That you?” You heard a soft shuffle, like she was sitting up in bed. “Hello?”
But your voice failed you. You sat there frozen, phone glued tight to your ear, words hanging somewhere between guilt and longing. What were you supposed to say? It had been three years.
Three years since you saw her last. Since she left for college. Since she left home.
You had promised to call. To text.
But you never did. Until now.
And perhaps it was too late.
You weren’t there when she needed you. You hadn’t even reached for her after she finally escaped—after she freed herself. She had gotten out. And you? You stayed. You were stuck. You had become a living relic, a harrowing reminder of the very past she’d fought like hell to outrun. She didn’t deserve that. You didn't deserve her, nor were you entitled to a relationship with her.
Wasn’t that the narrative you’d written for yourself? Wasn’t this how you always chose to punish yourself, by withholding? By pretending your silence was bred from nobility, instead of cowardice?
Your thumb trembled as you hit end call, cutting the line before you could be forgiven.
You buried your tear-streaked face in your pillows, sobbing silently, violently, surrendering at last to the war between you and sleep. Nightmares stirred on the horizon, but you didn’t care.
They, too, were to be your punishment.
•••
You woke the next morning to the grating sound of the blender and Jazmine Sullivan blaring from the kitchen. Sunlight spilled through your curtains, the sky already too bright for how you felt. It was a new day, but your emotions had yet to catch on to that fact. They clung to you, heavy and unchanged, still sour from the night before.
Your face was stiff with dried tears, your lips chapped, eyes burning from the ones you hadn’t finished shedding.
Meanwhile, your roommate Talia was in the kitchen, singing along obnoxiously to Price Tags, missing every single note in the song as if on purpose.
You reached for your phone and tapped the screen.
8:12 a.m.
“Just fucking great.”
So much for staying buried beneath your sheets all day, wallowing in deserved self-pity. You’d already planned to send Hakeem some bullshit excuse about top-secret party prep with Riri, just to get him off your back. Maybe you still would.
Riri was the whole reason you felt like this anyway, and you didn't technically have to see her until tomorrow anyway. Why not lie on her name if it bought you a sliver of peace? It was the least she could offer after completely fucking your entire sense of self. Just thinking about her now made your heart race, and that pissed you off even more than the goddamn blender rattling through the apartment. You imagined your brain caught in its blades, blending away every thought and feeling you didn't ask for.
The perfect at-home lobotomy. That was what you needed. A clean sweep. Scrape Riri off the walls of your mind, flush her out of your bloodstream. Anything to stop replaying the moment she looked at you like that.
“Tell me to stop, please… before I do something I can’t take back.”
She was pleading with you, fighting her want with everything she had. You witnessed the look in her eyes, seen her restraint tremble with every passing second.
Would you have stopped her had she leaned in? Could you have? Did you even want to?
Questions to be answered at a later date, because god dammit you had to do something about that fucking blender before it drove you up a wall.
You were on your feet seconds later, surging towards your bedroom door. You pulled it open, irritation bubbling inside your chest as you stepped through, still wrapped in your Hello Kitty blanket.
“What are you doing here?” You hissed, your voice low and venom-laced.
Talia paused the music and blinked at you from behind her smoothie cup, totally unbothered. “Huh? Oh, sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t–”
“What the hell are you doing here,” You repeated, firmer now.
“Uh… I live here?” She looked around the apartment like it might confirm her residency.
You huffed. She wasn't wrong, technically. Talia did live here, yes. But she rarely ever stayed here, and you suppose you tended to forget that from time to time. You’d gotten used to this being your space, not a shared one.
“You want a smoothie?” She offered, chipper and oblivious, “I messed up the taste on the first one, but this one’s so much better. I can make you–”
You marched forward in disbelief, approaching her like she committed treason, “Are those my strawberries? Talia, you didn't pay for these.”
“Yeah. That's why I wanted to make you a smoothie with em?” She stated like it was obvious.
You watched as she poured the pink slushy liquid into a cup, your mind wandering again imagining your brain liquefied and pulsing in the blender’s vortex. All mangled and no longer existent. If only.
Talia shoved the cup towards you, grinning as she took a sip of her own smoothie. “It's good, here try.”
“I don't want a fucking smoothie, I just want to be left alone!” You barked, louder than intended.
You were tired. Tired of people. Tired of Riri and everything her presence awakened in you. Tired of Hakeem and his smothering concern disguised as suspicion. And now, Talia. Cheerful, grating Talia, making smoothies at the ass crack of dawn like the world wasn’t crumbling beneath your feet.
Maybe this was the universe's way of telling you to get out of this apartment and abandon the memories still living in the walls, and on the couch. Flee the scene of the crime. Well, almost crime. Almost.
“Okay…” You heard Talia mumble mostly to herself, “Someone's pissy today. Is it that boyfriend again? He's always doing something to get on your nerves. And then you take it out on innocent ole me, how's that fair roomie? Hmm?”
She tossed you a look over her shoulder, but you were already walking back to your bedroom.
“Not today Talia. I’m gonna take a shower, and then I’m leaving. Then you can make all the fucking smoothies you want, wake up the whole damn building if you feel called to.”
“Works for me!” She called after you, still nauseatingly upbeat.
You rolled your eyes as you stripped out of your clothes, bitterness curdling in your chest.
Why couldn’t you have her life? Carefree. Loud. Unapologetic. She was up at 8 a.m. on a Saturday, dancing in the kitchen like nothing in the world could touch her. What could possibly be weighing her down? Surely nothing like this.
You exhaled. You’d had Enough.
You weren’t going to let today swallow you whole. No Riri. No Hakeem. No shame or questions or broken pieces.
Just you. Somewhere else, somewhere far from here.
That, at least, felt possible.
•••
You were about forty minutes into what was supposed to be a relaxing walk in the park when your phone started buzzing in your palm. The contact name flashing on the screen knocked the breath right out of you.
Mom.
The sound alone threw off your entire rhythm, your steps slowing as that familiar dread pooled in your stomach.
Why was she calling again? Last night, it was easy to ignore. You had schoolwork, you had company. Both were solid excuses to miss a call or three. But deep down, you knew you’d been dodging her longer than that. Not just because you were busy. But because the caller was her.
You didn’t want to invite her spirit into this version of your life—the one you were building far away from her. You were already struggling to keep your head above water, and the last thing you needed was her weight dragging you down.
You stopped walking and stared at the screen, watching it light up in your hand. Around you, the park carried on as if your world wasn’t tilting. Kids squealed in the distance as they raced down bike paths, a man jogged past with his golden retriever, both panting, both free. Families picnicked on blankets under shady trees, laughter floating through the warm air like the scenes you see in movies.
Except this was their real life.
And you stood in the middle of it all, cell phone buzzing in your hand, the only one not anchored in tranquility.
You thought about what Riri said last night, about her mom. How, despite their current tension, they still had a relationship. A real one. Her mom cared about her. Asked about her feelings. Wanted to understand her. Another thing that only existed in fiction for you.
You used to dream of a mom like that when you were a kid. The kind who picked you up from school and asked how your day was. Who remembered your favorite color. Who took the time to care about what you cared about. Your mom barely knew you liked robotics. Thought cars were too masculine for a girl, as if interests had a gender.
The call rang through to voicemail, and you kept walking, pace quickening like you could somehow outstep the emotions trailing behind you.
Then, sixty seconds later, the phone rang again. You inhaled sharply, stopping underneath a tree to weigh your options. Though truthfully, there wasn't much to scale. Ignore it, and make the message clear: I do not wish to speak to you, mother. But that might lead to her showing up here unannounced, and that was a nightmare you weren’t equipped to conquer.
Or answer it. Let her speak. Don’t engage, just… absorb. Like static on a TV. Let her talk until she runs out of steam, then hang up, and go back to pretending you’re an orphan.
You chose the latter. And regretted it immediately.
You didn’t even try to get the first word out.
“Was starting to think you was dead,” She said, and your eyes rolled on instinct. “Ain’t answered none of my calls in weeks.”
You sighed, already tired. “Mama, I–”
“Was fixing to come up to that school and see for myself.” She blew out her signature laugh, the one that carried no joy, just judgment masked as concern. “Then I get a call from your sister. Said you called her in the middle of the night, and she worried bout you.”
“Korin called you?” You perked up. You hadn’t anticipated her calling your mother. A weight of guilt burrowed itself deep into your chest, pressing on your ribs like wet cement, constricting your breathing until the action was no more. Korin had called her. After everything. All because you had the nerve to reach out after years of silence.
She had done the hard thing—the brave thing. And here you were, still cowering away from the monster that raised you.
“You know I ain’t heard from that girl in years,” She spat, “And she got the nerve to call me, to tell me she worried bout you.” You could tell the words tasted rancid to her, like they’d soured in her mouth before they ever left it. “So you can call her, but not me? After she abandoned us both for that… girl.”
You clenched your jaw. “Korin didn’t abandon us, Mama. She left for school.”
“Mhmm. And you just like her. Left me just the same. Some daughters I raised,” She muttered, followed by a sharp tsk that sliced through your last shred of patience.
You could feel it bubbling up, years of silence, of swallowing your truth, of letting her turn your voice into dust.
“Mama, is there a reason you called, or…?”
Your thoughts spun, no longer focused on the woman breathing heavy on the other end of the call, but on your big sister. On Korin. The girl still sticking her neck out for you and asking for nothing in return. What had that call cost her? What had it done to her spirit to dial a number she’d buried long ago, just to make sure you were okay?
Your mother cleared her throat. “Well. I was worried about you is all. A mother can’t call her own daughter now?”
You exhaled a laugh, but there was nothing funny about it. You knew her all too well. Concern had never been her motivator. But control? Always.
“You wasn’t worried about me all those months you were pretending I didn’t exist.”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty, it was loaded, and you braced for what you knew would come next.
“Why you always tryna paint me as the villain, huh?” She questioned, her voice dipping as she slipped on her wounded widow mask. “I did the best I could after your daddy died. And this the thanks I get? Both my daughters turning their backs on me.”
It worked. Your heart twisted and your throat tightened. Your mother knew just what the mention of your father would do to you. It was a nasty tactic she'd developed after his passing, but it always just... worked.
She had a way about her.
A way that made you stay longer than you should’ve. A way that made you apologize for bleeding after she cut you.
“She ruined this family,” She said next, and you knew exactly who she meant. “Korin and her nasty lifestyle. And you used to see that, used to know better. Now you up here defending her too? My god, what would your daddy think if he could see his precious little girls now. He would be rolling over in his grave!”
That did it. Something snapped in you then.
“You know the only time you ever mention my daddy is when you tryna get under my skin,” You stated, voice steady, firm, and unshaking. “That all he is to you? Some ploy to make me feel guilty for defending my sister?”
Silence.
You imagined her blinking on the other end, stunned, like the words had landed somewhere deep. Somewhere tender.
“Korin didn’t ruin this family, Mama. You did. And Daddy would be damn proud of her. Proud of both of us, for getting far, far away from you, just like he did.”
You paused, let the silence build. Then you hit her with it, “You're not a good person. My daddy had to die, just to free himself from you. How that make you feel, Mama?”
It was cruel because it had to be. And it tasted like steel on your tongue.
You waited for a response that you knew would never come, not one with words anyway. All you heard were the sharp cracks in her breathing, the tremble in her throat as her tears finally broke through. But you didn’t rush to soothe her. Not this time.
You were crying too, but not for the same reasons.
You cried because, for the first time in your life, you stood up to her. Because you had finally said the thing you were always too afraid to voice out loud. Because you had defended your sister.
You hung up while she was still crying, and for once, you didn’t care. You hoped your disregard added to her hurt. You didn’t care about softening the blow. Didn’t care about being the good daughter anymore. Didn’t care about belonging to her.
You sniffled a little as a broad smile cracked into your features. You huffed a wet laugh, drying your eyes. There was an idea in your head, a thought that made you feel empowered as you made your next decision.
It was time to do the hard thing, the way Korin had. No more deflecting, no more avoiding. No more pretending you could outrun what was already inside you.
It was time to face the entity that haunted you.
It was time to confront Riri.
•••
You stood in front of Riri’s door, frozen, eyes fixed on the whiteboard hanging crookedly on the frame. The message scribbled across it in green marker hit like a challenge.
Solve or don’t knock.
Collatz Conjecture.
3(x) - 1.
Even her boundaries were equations. It brought you back to the last time you’d stood in front of her door like this, the memory seared into your head like a scar that hadn't yet healed. The memory of her slamming the door right in your face. It was uncalled for, and rude. Your body still housed the anger from that night, a flame that lived in the corners of your chest, dormant, but you could still feel it.
Beneath it, humiliation sat heavier. She hadn't just dismissed you, no, Riri had discarded you that night. Like you were nothing…
Riri had a way of making you feel that way—like your existence was a disruption. Like wanting anything from her was an inconvenience. And still, here you were again, embarrassing yourself by showing up. She had a grip on you. That was the problem. Riri made you feel things you shouldn't. She scrambled your instincts, made your inner compass go haywire, almost to the point of giving the word a new meaning entirely.
Riri did that. To you.
And you could lie to yourself, pretend you didn’t know why. You’d already been doing that for months. But there was no use anymore. Not when your feet had carried you all the way here. Not when your heart was already beating like it knew what it wanted.
Your eyes flicked back to the crooked whiteboard again.
Solve or don't knock.
So you knocked.
And she answered.
Her gaming headset hung around her neck, controller in hand, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She was breathless, caught somewhere between mid-game and mid-thought, wearing loose fitting camo shorts that stopped just below her kneecaps, and a tight, form fitting black crop top that read: my mitochondria just powered up.
You almost laughed, but caught yourself. Still, she must’ve seen it in your eyes, because one corner of her mouth lifted in quiet amusement. Her hair was neatly braided into two stitch braids, and her edges were perfectly swooped.
She blinked at you, not startled, just waiting. Her gaze was steady, curious. Hopeful, even.
For a moment you two just stood there, taking each other in, not knowing what to say. You’d marched over here, high on a wave of confidence, but you hadn't thought beyond that. This was what she did to you, she made your brain stutter.
“You come over here just to stare at me from the hallway?” She asked, “Or do you wanna come in?” The side of her mouth flicked up ever so swiftly, and the butterflies in your stomach came alive.
God, how was this so easy for her? Her voice rained down on you, pulling you in and keeping you there, much like it did last night.
You wanted to smile, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction. “We need to talk.” You said plainly, following after her into her room.
Riri tossed a glance over her shoulder, casual and unreadable, like she'd already written off the conversation before it even had a chance to happen, “Oh yeah? What about?”
Being back in her room felt like stepping onto a live wire. Every nerve ending in your body was alert, burning under your skin. Your eyes swept the space, latching onto familiar landmarks, until they landed on the picture taped crookedly on the wall beside her bed.
The photo you had held once.
The frame you had broken.
And you felt more guilt than ever now, knowing what you knew about her father. You were certain it was him smiling back at you from the glossy image, arm slung around a younger Riri and the other girl you couldn’t place. A cousin, maybe, or a sister.
You swallowed the guilt clawing at your throat. This wasn’t why you came. You weren’t here to apologize.
“Well,” You began, voice clipped, “I told Hakeem we're planning a surprise party for him.”
Riri snorted, a sharp, disbelieving sound as she set her headset and controller down with a clatter. She leaned back against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, gaze sliding over you lazily. “Ain't really a surprise if he knows about it.” Her voice laced in dry amusement. “And I don’t recall any conversation about us planning shit for him. When we had time to do that?”
You ground your teeth, fists balling at your sides, “I’m aware of that, Riri. But I had to come up with something after you left. He was all suspicious and asking me questions and I-I just panicked, okay?”
She laughed again, and the sound made you want to tear the walls down. “And that's the best you could come up with? A surprise party?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t even lie right.”
“Is this funny to you?” You stepped closer, chest tight. “Is everything a fucking joke to you? Are you even at all concerned about why I had to lie to my boyfriend? Why he was suspicious?”
Her smirk faltered just a little, and straightened, her voice dipping lower, more serious now. “Why'd you have to lie to your boyfriend? Hmm? What happened last night that made it necessary?”
“Tell me.” She demanded.
The room felt like it was shrinking. Riri stayed perched against the desk, but her presence was massive. Overwhelming. You could feel her breath even from where you stood, could smell the faint trace of her cologne mixing with the lingering scent of clean linen.
You clenched your fists, nails biting deep into your flesh. Your mouth opened but nothing came out. How could she ask that? How could she pretend she didn’t know when you felt her leaning in?
“Riri–”
“No,” She said sharply, “I wanna hear you say it. Tell me.”
Last night slammed into you again. The way her breath had ghosted over your lips. The way you had tilted your head without realizing. The way your whole body had screamed yes. Your heart called to hers, and you felt it respond. You watched her battle resistance. Wished she'd lose—wished she'd forfeit. And she almost did. Almost.
“Riri, you wanted to kiss me,” You whispered, hating yourself, “You almost did.”
Her laugh was brittle, almost broken, “You almost let me, you mean.”
“Wha–”
“And here you go playing clueless, as usual. You can never take accountability, can you?” Her voice was rising, and you flinched, “Never own your part in this shit. And I’m always the bad guy, always the villain in your story. And you're always the fucking damsel who can do no wrong.”
It hit harder than it should have, and your eyes were stinging. Because she wasn’t the first person to say it to you today. Your mother’s voice crawled up from the grave you had buried her in just before arriving here.
Always painting me as the villain.
“You think this is my fault?” You questioned, voice barely measured. “You think I–”
“I think you wanted to kiss me just as much as I wanted to kiss you.” Riri’s voice was trembling as you watched her fight to keep herself together.
You shook your head violently, but it was too late. She had cracked you open, and was watching the truth bleed out. “That isn't–”
“That isn't what? True? Don't fucking lie.” She chuckled darkly, “We already established you ain't good at that shit.”
You backed up a little, heart hammering against your ribs. The air in the room was thick enough to choke on. Why was she doing this? You couldn't see an outcome in this that ended with you admitting to what she claimed, so you clung to the only lifeline you had left inside you, the last thing that could save you.
“I’m not gay, Riri.” You choked out.
Because you weren't. You couldn't be.
Riri’s eyes went wild, shifting and expanding like the flames of a fervent fire, “Didn't say you were.”
“Then what is it that you want from me?” You screamed, voice splintering under the weight of it all, tears stinging your eyes but refusing to fall. “What the fuck do you want?!”
Your entire body was buzzing, and you wouldn't be surprised if your palms were bleeding, judging by how hard your nails were pressing into them right now.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You didn’t know exactly what you expected, but it wasn’t this. You weren’t supposed to be standing in front of your boyfriend’s best friend, shaking, your vision blurring with tears, all because she could say the quiet part out loud, and you couldn’t.
All because you refused to.
Riri’s voice cracked when she answered, and her eyes dropped to the floor in shame. “Can't have what I want from you.”
“I–”
“Just wish you would stop lying to yourself and admit you want the same thing too.”
You were sobbing now, throat burning as you bathed it in your continued lie. “But I-I I don't–”
“Then why are you crying, beautiful? Why do you sound so unsure?” She took a measured step toward you, and you didn't back away. “Why do you tremble every time you deny me, like the very act is ripping you apart?”
Your knees nearly buckled under the weight of her words, “Riri don't. Please don't do this.” You pleaded, swatting at your tears angrily. “You’ve made my life hell for as long as you’ve known me. You don’t get to just change your mind now. You do not get to want me.”
Her voice was so soft when she spoke, so wounded you almost didn't hear her. “See that’s what you're not getting. I've always wanted you. I just… repressed it. I hated myself for it. I hated you for it. And I’m sorry.”
You went still. Dead still, thinking back to that night outside Hakeem’s apartment. To what she almost said. “You said I still want you…” You recounted slowly, almost afraid. “That night at Hakeem’s, you started saying it but never finished. What were you going to say?”
“I did,” She said simply. “I did finish.”
You blinked, not understanding, “What?”
“I still want you is a complete sentence.” She whispered, “And I do. Still want you. Despite how fucked all this is.”
Was she serious right now?
You couldn't breathe, couldn't steer this conversation in a direction in which you had control. So you lashed out with the only weapon you had left—anger.
“So you treated me like shit on the bottom of your fucking shoe because you… you liked me? Am I hearing that correctly?”
“Ye–”
“Are you a fucking twelve year-old boy?!” You cried out. “Because you sure as hell act like one! God, Riri, you're so damn pathetic. Like I don't even know what to say right now.”
The words cut her deep, just as you intended, good. You watched it happen. Watched her shoulders slump, saw the fire burning in her eyes flicker out and turn into resolve. She didn't fight you, and her next words made the room vibrate.
“You're right,” She croaked out, breaking for the first time, “I am pathetic.”
You could hear the rapid thrum of her heartbeat in the silence, feel the way the air quivered between you, thin and sharp like broken glass. Her eyes were glossy, and she didn't even fight the tears rolling down her cheeks. She just stood there and let them come.
Riri wasn’t even looking at you anymore. Her eyes were somewhere else, dark and clouded.
“I am sooo fucking pathetic.” She mumbled, voice hoarse. “For not admitting how I felt earlier. For lying to Keem. Lying to you. To myself. To everyone really.”
She exhaled sharply, dragging her hands down her damp face, “I thought my feelings would go away. Thought the more I saw you two together it would get easier. But that didn't happen, clearly.”
She laughed bitterly.
Your stomach twisted into knots so tight you thought you might be sick, fighting the urge to double over right here. You didn’t know how this argument turned into a full-on confession, but now here you stood, in the middle of Riri’s dorm, heart racing so fast it barely stayed caged inside your chest, trying to make sense of the things being said.
“What are you saying right now, Riri?” You questioned, desperate for her to stop, for yourself to stop listening.
But she kept going.
“I liked you first.” She confessed, as though it costed her everything to admit. “I know it doesn’t even fucking matter. But it’s my truth. I liked you the first day I saw you in class. And I knew I really liked you when I heard you speak. God, I thought you were so fucking smart. Your mind is so… wondrous.”
You were standing there, all your bones stiff and frozen, letting her words drench you.
“But before I could say anything, Hakeem told me he liked you, said you felt the same. Next thing I knew, y’all were together… and I had to be the one to eat my fucking feelings. Nothing I ain't used to, but still.”
Her voice cracked, the sound mirroring your heart.
“Obviously it didn’t work,” She laughed, shaking her head, “Because they still came out. Just… manifested into something else entirely. Something ugly. Something disgusting. I treated you like shit because I couldn’t stand seeing you with him… and not with me.”
She exhaled a shaky breath. “And there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t hate myself for it. But I couldn’t say the real thing out loud until now.”
She spread her arms helplessly. “So here we are. Here I am. Scared shitless, but at least it’s out.”
You blinked at her, dumbstruck.
She liked you first. She liked you fucking first?!
Like this was some sick competition for your heart. Like the outcome was ever supposed to be different—like it was ever supposed to be anyone but Hakeem.
Heat rose under your skin, the betrayal sinking into the tender area like teeth. “And what am I supposed to do with this confession, Riri?”
She swallowed, “I don't know.”
“Goddamn you Riri!” You cried, shaking your head vehemently as your disbelief warred with rage. “God fucking damn you, you fucking selfish asshole! You don't give a damn about the lives you ruin! You just do, because your selfish deluded brain tells you to. And now what? I’m supposed to go back to my boyfriend—your best friend—and act like you never said any of this to me?”
You were flailing now, no longer stuck in one position, your anger cascading out of you like a waterfall continuously replenishing itself.
Riri was silent for a beat, just cutting her eyes at you, danger evident in their swills.
And then,
“You're not fucking innocent either, Miss ‘I’m not gay.’” She threw back, shrinking the distance between you. “How bout we finally talk about your part in this. I aired my shit out, let's talk about you.”
“I'm not the one imploding my fucking relationship here, Riri. I'm not the one–”
Riri let her lips curl into a sick smirk, “Aren't you though?” She snarled, like she had something to prove. “You let me touch you. You let me breathe you in so deep, I was able to taste you. You did that. And you fucking liked it.”
“Every time I got too close,” She continued, “You could've stopped me, but you never did. Never told me no. You just kept coming back.”
Her words punched the air right out of your lungs.
“That's why you're here, isn't it? She said, voice accusing. “That's why you're standing here right now, going back and forth with me. Because you know what this is. And I need you to be fucking real with yourself.”
You refuted her claims, but she was already dragging the truth out of you piece by piece, without you even having to admit to anything outright.
“Because I can be real with myself. I have feelings for my best friend's girl—for you,” She declared, without missing a beat. “Feelings that ain't going away. And I don’t want them to go away because I wanna act on them. I wanna kiss you, touch you. I wanna– mmm.”
Riri was close enough to touch you if she truly wanted to. Her hands hovered in front of your face, almost reaching to cup it, to dry your eyes with her thumbs. But she didn't. She stopped herself before she went any further. Then she pulled back with a grunt. One deep in her gut—angry, frustrated, repressed. All three wrapped into one.
Your heart slammed against your chest, practically clawing itself out with a knife. All bloody, and forceful, and fucking excruciating, oh God. You were barely perceiving the walls of Riri’s dorm anymore, ears tuning out the lo-fi beat coming from her tv. Were you even lucid?
But she wasn't done. “And that makes me better than you.” She spat, voice riddled with emotion. “You said you wanted to talk, but you ain't said shit that mean anything. Just throwing around accusations like you always do when you really should be pointing the finger at yourself.”
You blinked, face wet, throat dry.
“I can admit I’m a shitty person,” Riri huffed, slamming her chest into yours, forcing you to feel her erratic heartbeat. The faint trace of her cologne mingled with your signature vanilla fragrance, heating your senses and expanding your pores as your body absorbed them both. “Can you?”
You stumbled back a step, nearly tripping over the air itself.
“I don’t have to take this shit from you, Riri,” You barked, hating how your voice broke at the edges.
“Then don’t,” She snapped. “Fucking go. You came here just to play in my face anyway. So just save us both any more embarrassment, and just go.”
For once, you would listen the first time, without argument.
“Hakeem is still expecting a party. You know, my boyfriend, your best friend? Yeah, him. So there's that.” You managed to choke out.
And then you left her room without another word. You just turned on your heel, tears already slipping down your burning cheeks, and walked away. You didn’t look back. Not even when you heard the faint hitch of her breathing behind you. Not even when your heart screamed at you to stay.
You fucking hated her. But you hated yourself more.
Because deep down, under all the fury and the confusion, you wished things were different. You wished you hadn’t cared about what people would think. You wished you could reach across the room, grab her by the stupid collar of that stupid t-shirt, and kiss her until you both forgot how fucked this all was.
You wished you could be a different person entirely. Someone braver. Someone more deserving of this messy, burning thing between you. But you weren’t.
You were you.
And you were still standing here, heart wrecked, soul split in two, wishing you had never known what it felt like to want something you could never have.
That's why running away made sense. You stormed out of her room with tear-streaked cheeks and shaking hands, barely aware of where you were headed until you collided with someone at the end of the hall.
Shea butter and cinnamon wrapped around you, warm and familiar and devastating.
“Woah! You alright there beautiful?”
Zariyah.
You could’ve collapsed right into her arms. It would’ve been so easy. Her aura was always so inviting, so soft, so convincing. But you couldn’t. Not when everything you were carrying had someone else’s name stitched into it. So you pushed past her, the scent of cinnamon clinging to your clothes like guilt.
“I’m fine,” You mumbled, willing your voice not to crack.
You knew she wouldn’t follow you. Of course she wouldn’t. Not when the reason she was even here was in the complete opposite direction.
You jammed your finger against the elevator button, willing it to move faster. Your reflection blurred in the steel doors, eyes red, face a mess. By the time the doors slid open and you stumbled inside, the sobs broke free.
Messy, raw, helpless. You didn’t know who you were mad at. Riri, for making you feel this way. Yourself, for letting her. Your mother, for making you terrified of being anything other than what she wanted. Or Hakeem, for being too good, too steady, too innocent in all this, while you spiraled into someone unrecognizable.
You were furious at all of them.
But mostly, you were furious at yourself. Because no matter how hard you tried to hate Riri, no matter how hard you tried to scrub her from your thoughts, it was too late because she had tainted you. You wanted her, craved her like she was your vice. And like her, those feelings weren’t going away.
The elevator dinged and you stumbled out into the lobby, wiping at your soaked face with trembling hands. The question now wasn’t if you felt something. It wasn’t even why.
note: look, bbf!riri has been stuck in my head for weeks and i can't get rid of her so this is the result of that. this can also be sort of unofficial bonus content for my last bbf!riri fic, hook, line, and sinker. hope you enjoy! mwah! mwah!
childhood:
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who’s always just been there. you don’t remember exactly when your brother met her, just how normal it was to come downstairs on saturday mornings to her on the couch, eating cereal, and watching cartoons. your brother nowhere in sight.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ speaking of cereal, bbf!riri who always, always eats the last of the lucky charms because they’re ‘her favorite too’, and it’s ‘first come first serve.’ even though they’re yours, even though this is your house. and she always gets away with it too, because riri can do no wrong in your mom’s eyes.
“she ate my cereal again.” you whine, resisting the urge to stomp your foot.
“we can always buy more.” your mom states matter of factly, as though that’s the issue, and not riri’s lack of respect or boundaries.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who you deem your nemesis at 10. (you learn the word after watching phineas and ferb.) riri is sitting on the couch with you and your brother one morning, and you feel something snap inside you after watching a particular scene between dr. doofenshmirtz and perry the platypus.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who sneaks out of class when she’s in 5th grade to make sure you get a cupcake on her birthday. you’re a grade below her, but she still makes sure to share with you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who spends the night at your house almost every night, even on school nights.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who teases you about your braces at 13 (even though she has ’em too)
“close the door. you’re letting all the hot air in.” you demand, popping a hot fry into your mouth.
riri slides the glass door shut, but who would she be if she doesn’t say something slick? “ask nicely next time, metal mouth.”
you roll your eyes, not giving her the attention she’s clearly seeking.
“you even supposed to be eating those?” she laughs, nodding to your half empty bag of hot fries as she lifts a bottle of water to her mouth.
“why do you even care?” you feel that flare in your chest, a rage only brought on by your brother’s best friend.
“don’t. just think it’s tragic that you gotta have all that hardware in your mouth.”
“you literally had braces last year.”
“true. but at least i look cute in mine.” her last words before she slipped back into the backyard with your brother.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ as annoying as she is at your house, school is different. riri always has your back. anytime someone picks on you, she’s the first one in their face. she may or may not have gotten suspended more than once for defending your honor. like the time she decked that girl who called your braces ugly and laughed at your teeth. but of course, she’ll never admit that…
late teens (18/19):
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who’s always tinkering with something in your garage. the sound of her hammer clanking against metal, the hiss of her blowtorch, the constant whirring of her drill, it all bleeds into the living room, ruining any chance you have of watching tv in peace. you bang on the garage door more times than you can count, yelling at her to knock it off. she never does.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who you argue with constantly. literally not a day goes by without some kind of altercation. and it’s always petty stuff that your brother refuses to get involved in.
“riri, did you really unplug my phone to charge your stupid gauntlet?”
“well for one, my gauntlet isn’t stupid. it’s fully functioning and could potentially save the world one day. and two, your phone is dry as hell anyway, nobody hitting your line, so what’s the big deal?”
“you just gonna let her talk to me like that?” you turn to your brother, expecting him to defend you.
but instead, he looks between the both of you, totally unbothered, and keeps walking, still eating his cereal. “i’m not in it,” he mumbles, mouth half full.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who always has unsolicited comments about your love life.
“that light skin stud with locs is not going to save you, be for real.”
your brother laughs from beside you, and you punch his arm.
“she's a walking red flag, but you be acting like you color blind.”
“i will literally strangle the fuck out of you riri.”
riri grins, mumbling under her breath, “don’t threaten me with a good time.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who drives you home when you get extremely drunk at a party that you totally weren't supposed to be at. she helps you into the house and up the stairs to your room.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you barely have time to recognize that it’s riri holding your braids back before you start to empty your stomach into the toilet. she’s rubbing circles into your back and wiping your mouth when you’re done.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who tucks you into bed afterwards.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she also leaves advil and a glass of water on your nightstand for when you wake up. and when you venture downstairs in the morning, head pounding, you see that she’s laying on the couch, nose buried in her phone.
riri shuffles over when she spots you at the bottom of the stairs. “you look like hell.”
“i feel like hell. my head’s killing me.”
she laughs under her breath. “you, uh… take the advil i left for you?”
you nod.
“good. good.”
her fingers fidget, eyes dropping to her feet. “you really can’t hold your liquor.”
“an unfortunate lesson. but… thanks for bringing me home. and, hopefully, not telling my mom?”
she glances up with a small smile. “you know i gotchu.”
and the way she says it, soft, almost careful, you hear something else in it.
you know i gotchu
and suddenly, it means more than just covering for you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you’re staring. riri’s half under the kitchen sink, fixing something, a leak, a pipe, who knows. doesn’t matter. what matters is the waistband of her briefs peeking out just above her low-slung cargos. the way her shirt rides up just enough to show off a sliver of toned abs. you bite your lip. you tell yourself to look away, but the visual pulls you in, steady and magnetic. closer and closer and clos–
“all done.”
riri slides out from under the sink, sudden enough to make you jump.
“huh?” you blink, still a little dazed, still very much staring at her stomach, her grease-smudged shirt still riding up.
“i said i’m done. garbage disposal’s fixed.”
“oh. right.”
she narrows her eyes slightly. “you good? you seem… distracted.”
“a little– i mean, i’m fine. thanks for fixing the, uh, the thingy. i’ll go tell my mom.”
you turn too fast, practically bolting, not waiting for her to say anything else.
but you hear her low laugh behind you.
you don’t have to look to know she’s still watching you walk away.
20s:
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who you may or may not have a crush on now? you have no idea how you got here and why, but now you can't stop thinking about her. you get excited when she comes over now, open the door for her all giddy and smiley. but it doesn't usually last, because well, she’s riri…
“hey ri!” you're smiling at her as she stands on the other side of the threshold.
“you should really thank your moms for those braces. they pulled off an impossible job.”
and just like that, your smile was fading and your eyes were rolling as you slam the door after she comes inside.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who you catch staring at you from across the room. she has this look in her eyes like she just knows you were staring at her too. and you don't look away. the two of you just hold each other's gazes.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you hear her asking your brother if you're seeing anyone.
“aye, your sister still with that one girl?”
“nah. think they broke up,” he answers, oblivious as ever. “but she's apparently going on a date tomorrow night. i don't know, she always got something going on with somebody. i can't keep up with that shit.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ riri’s in a mood the entire next day. you catch her glaring at you from time to time. her attitude really seems to get worse when she sees you getting ready for your date. she goes from mildly annoyed to full blown furious, even snapping on your brother when he asked if she was good.
“i said i’m straight. damn.” she mutters, even though not a single thing about her demeanor conveys that.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you miss her like crazyyyyy when she leaves for MIT. but what are you supposed to do about that? she's your brother's best friend, not yours. you can't just text her to see how she's doing. can’t just call to hear her voice.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who likes all your ig posts but never comments.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ so you add her to your close friends.
that should get her attention…
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who slides up on your story:
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who's trying desperately to get you alone when she comes home for summer break. but you're making her work for it.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ until she gets tired of the games, and corners you in the garage after your brother falls asleep.
“you gon stop making me work so hard?” she's leaning against the door that leads back into the house, blocking your escape.
“didn't plan to.”
riri smirks.
“ole girl still in the picture?” she questions, brow jumping in faux curiosity.
“you don't care.” you laugh dryly, failing to conceal your grin.
“i don't.”
“so, what you gonna do, ri?” you step forward, impulse tugging you towards her.
riri pushes her back off the door, “come here. lemme show you.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who kisses you like she’d die without the taste of your lips. all heat and hunger, and desperation. like she's been starving herself in preparation for this very moment, and now that she has you, she must consume you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she makes you promise not to tell your brother.
“we can't– he can't know…” she's panting, chest heaving like she might pass out as she stares at you, as though you are all that exists in the world—her world.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she texts you after she leaves for the night, sending your heart into overdrive
nsfw:
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ riri is HELLA freaked out, which shouldn't be surprising, but it still kinda is.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who loves sending you dirty texts while your brother’s in the room, just to watch you squirm. she knows exactly what she’s doing. she knows you’ll blush, then glance around, searching for her. and when you finally find her across the room, she’s already looking away, wearing that smug little smirk like she has no idea why you’re shifting in your seat.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who sneaks into your room in the middle of the night, after your brother falls asleep, with only one thing on her mind.
“i missed you.” you open your arms wide to pull her in.
riri leans in and kisses you roughly, “then take these panties off and show me how much. we don't got all night.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who takes every opportunity to smack your ass when no one is around to see. she always makes sure to cop a feel too, but you aren't complaining.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who gets horny just by watching you do your makeup in her backseat. especially your lip combo. it takes everything in her not to pull the car over and climb on top of you in the back, ready to kiss your gloss right off your mouth. but then she remembers you're not alone, and your brother is sitting right beside her in the passenger seat.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who has a breeding kink. she fucks you like she's tryna get you pregnant, and fuck you just might let her because you're both delusional enough to believe that she actually can.
“you gon let me come inside you baby? fill this pretty pussy all the way up? hmm?”
your eyes are rolling, tears spilling as she drives her thick strap into your welcoming heat.
“yes ri!” you cry out, vision blurring. “mark this pussy baby, it's all yours!”
“ima fuck a baby into this pretty pussy. you want that? for me to get you pregnant?”
you can hear it in her voice, the desperation, the need. like her entire grip on reality is hanging by a thread, and that thread is you. her breathing’s uneven, her hands trembling against your skin. she’s holding back, but just barely. you know the second you give her permission, the second you whisper that soft, wrecked yes… she's gonna lose it. she's going to come undone with you wrapped around her dick as she destroys your innocence.
and you grant it to her.
“yes. i want all of you in me, every drop. give it to me. get me pregnant, put a baby in me, riri!”
you feel it, her cum, thick and warm as it spills into, coating your already sticky walls. riri releases a guttural moan, but never do her thrusts stutter. she fucks you with precision and intent.
“take it all baby. i know you can, sooo g-good f-for me… take all of me.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she spends days perfecting her strap designs. and just has to test them out on you, for research purposes obviously.
“and how is this different from the last one?” you giggle.
“well, lemme put it in and you’ll see.” riri was kneeling above you, stroking the new strap that just needed to be tested out tonight.
you're soaked when she spreads your legs, and she smiles. she rubs the tip up against your clit and you whimper.
“put it in.”
riri doesn't hesitate. she's sliding into your pussy without hesitation, her hips stuttering upon entrance, thrusts already sloppy. this isn't how she typically fucks you.
she pulls out for just a moment, trying to catch her breath, chest heaving. riri’s panting harder than usual, her moans slipping out louder, rougher, almost desperate. her nails dig into your skin like she’s trying to anchor herself, hold on to something real. her eyes are shut tight, jaw clenched, like she’s not just with you, she’s–
“ri? c-can you feel m-me?”
“mhmm…” she chokes the sound out, just barely. “so fucking t-tight.”
this changes everything…
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ riri is an impatient lover. when she wants you, she wants you. right then, right there. no waiting, no warming up. and if she can’t have you the second the urge hits? she gets pissy. short-tempered. touch-starved and irritated like her skin’s on fire. you love when she gets like that. because it means the moment she finally gets her hands on you, she’s not holding back.
“you been teasing me…” she mutters, already unbuckling her pants, eyes locked on you like a challenge.
you sit there, all wide-eyed and fake-innocent, lips parted just enough to play dumb.
but she knows better. she sees the twitch of a smirk hiding there.
“what you gonna do about it?” you ask, voice soft, taunting.
riri steps in close, close enough that you feel her breath fan across your cheek, her fingers curling under your chin to tilt your head up.
“you’re still teasing me,” her jaw clenches. her eyes flick down to your mouth, then lower. her voice drops. “you like seeing me like this?”
“maybe.”
riri pushes you back onto the bed, hard, and you bounce a little on the mattress. you can't help but giggle.
she climbs on top of you and her hand moves to your throat, not squeezing, just there, possessive, grounding. her thighs are on either side of yours, holding you in place underneath her.
“you think i’m gon take my time now? after you been walking around all day acting like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing?”
your breath catches, but you don’t back down.
she leans in, lips barely brushing your ear, “i’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who loves when you mark her up with hickies and bite marks. they raise lots of questions, because riri isn't publicly seeing anyone. but you know, and she knows, and that's what matters. it's part of the thrill of sneaking around, and it turns you both on.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who masturbates to your instagram. and proudly too. she confesses that she used to do it before you two got together.
“ain't no shame in my game. i know what i like to nut to.”
“you're a pervert, oh my god!”
“okay? and yo nasty ass like that shit too.”
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ loves when you suck her strap.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ loves getting head more.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ loves giving you head more than anything else. if you let her, she’d spend hours between your thighs—lost in it, addicted. her tongue moves slow, then fast, sucking your clit until it’s swollen and aching, until you’re begging her to stop. but she doesn’t stop. because she knows you don’t really want her to. you want her to keep going until your legs are trembling, until you’re crying, until she’s sucked you dry and your body’s soaked in sweat, pooling between your breasts. and she lives for that. for the way you fall apart just for her.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ riri loves sucking your cum off her fingers when she's done fingering you, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who begs for nudes when she's back at school.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who always lets you come first. and second, and third, fourth…
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ backshots… what would riri do without backshots? who would she be without them? after a long day of saving the city, she likes to unwind by fucking you from the back and watching your hole swallow her dick again and again. it relaxes her.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ riri loves when you ride her thigh. she loves to make you work for your orgasm and you like to impress her. she also loves the snail trail you leave behind on her leg.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who wakes up in your room the next morning. still sore, legs aching. she wasn't supposed to spend the night, but after round after round, orgasm after orgasm, and hearing you cry her name again and again, how could she leave you?
bonus:
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bbf!riri who sneaks out of your room at 6:42 a.m., hoodie half on, socks balled in one hand, shoes in the other, trying not to make the floorboards creak. she was supposed to spend the night in the basement with your brother—her best friend, but of course, once he knocked out, she crept upstairs to your room. she slips into the hallway, thinking the coast is clear. until she hits the bottom of the stairs and sees her best friend, still groggy, coming up from the basement.
they both freeze.
“i was uh–i, came up to uh–and i was just–” she stammers, caught mid-step, looking like a kid stealing from the cookie jar.
he blinks, squinting at her. “sleeping with my sister?”
riri’s eyes go wide, lips parting, "uh... i–"
“don’t worry, i’m just fucking with you,” he says, waving her off with a yawn. “i don’t care what y’all are doing. just keep it far, far away from me.”
riri exhales like she’d been holding her breath the whole time.
“yeah. totally. got it. far away. like… different zip code.” she laughs nervously.
summary: riri was off limits. she was your brother's best friend after all, and he'd warned you about her. but rules never really applied to you, never stopped you from doing what, and who you want, anyway.
word count: 7.4k
contents: brother's best friend riri, smut (18+), fingering, oral (riri is a EATER), strap!riri, strap riding, dirty talk, flirting, reader is a tease
note: this was just supposed to be a lil one two with a lil bit of smut, but i been missing riri so bad. fun fact: this is actually me and riri's tape and i'm letting y'all get a taste. i ain't even wanna share this with y'all fr, but you know. anyway, i hope y'all like this. idk why i keep writing riri as a trifling ass best friend but hey, y'all eat it up every time. enjoy! mwah! mwah!
You could always tell when Riri Williams was back in Chicago. The whole city seemed to shift around her, like it had been holding its breath. Especially in your house.
Everything felt louder, more alive. The delicious smell of your mom’s famous jerk chicken and cornbread always floated in the air—Riri’s favorite. But your favorite part was always the sound of your brother Tyzen’s laugh echoing off the walls like music.
You loved seeing him like that. And Riri brought it out of him. You knew how much he missed her when she was away at school, how his other friendships never measured up to his bond with her. They’d been inseparable since they were kids. Like they shared a language only they understood.
You smiled as you reminisced on fond playground memories between the two, memories that weren't your own, but ones you bore witness to. Tyzen and Riri, bonded by scraped knees, shared secrets, and a thousand inside jokes.
But unlike your older brother, you weren’t here to chase nostalgia. No, your plans for the weekend were far less innocent. You were here to collect new memories, souvenirs to tuck away and revisit when the nights got too quiet and Riri was three states away.
With a sly grin, you gave yourself a once-over in the mirror, mentally patting yourself on the back for the outfit you put together. The charcoal-grey top clutched your chest like a second skin, particularly the reason you chose it. You’d tugged the zipper down as far as decency—or temptation—allowed, framing your breasts with just enough boldness to dare her to stare. Your nipples peaked against the fabric, shameless and defiant.
The black mini skirt? Shorter than it needed to be for a casual night in, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. It sat high on your waist, sculpted to every dip and swell of your body like it was part of the plan. Because indeed it was. That hem danced across your thigh with every shift of your hips, flirtatious and fearless, daring gravity to try its luck. Pull it down? Not a chance. Let it ride up. Let her look.
One final glance in the mirror, and you stepped out of your room, hips swaying as you strutted down the hallway—bait cast, hook sharpened, and your favorite kind of trouble waiting on the other end.
•••
You heard her before you saw her.
“Ty, you still got that weak-ass jump shot?” Riri questioned, her voice carrying that same mischievous edge you remembered from all the years she spent hanging around your house. It used to annoy you, back when you were younger, when she was just your brother’s best friend. When you didn’t look at her the way you did now.
You pushed open the front door and stepped onto the porch, leaning against the frame as you watched them play in the driveway. The late afternoon sun spilled across the backyard, catching in Riri’s curls as she dribbled the ball low to the ground, quick and smooth, like she didn’t even have to think about it.
Ty snatched the ball and backed up a few steps, bouncing it lazily like he had all the time in the world. “You talking like I won’t dust your lil ass right now if we was actually playing for real.”
Riri scoffed, hands on her hips. “Nigga, you got one move, and that shit barely work.”
Ty laughed, then hit her with something quick—a fake-out that had her losing balance. “My one move got yo ass stumbling right now. You better watch them ankles, Ri.”
Riri blinked, then burst out laughing. “Okay, you got it. But try that shit again, and I’m locking yo old ass up.”
You leaned against the patio railing, watching them go at it. They were all elbows, sneakers, and insults. But it worked for their dynamic.
And in the middle of it all, you kept your eyes on Riri, awaiting the moment she finally glanced your way.
You crossed your arms under your chest, pushing your boobs up higher, welcoming your spilling cleavage. Your skirt was riding up some more, and of course you let it—assisted it even.
You were dripping with intent, radiating want like heat off pavement, and you needed Riri to notice.
As if pulled by some unspoken force, her eyes flicked your way. Brief, like an afterthought—until it wasn't. She did a double take, gaze snapping back to you, locking in on your skin, your curves, the deliberate softness barely covered by your clothes. There was awe there, laced with disbelief, like she was seeing you for the first time and didn’t quite know what to do with it, the game with your brother no longer holding her attention.
You had her. Hook, line, and wide-open stare.
You didn't even bother hiding your smirk. Why would you? You were dressed for the role you wanted, now it was time to play it. And by the look in Riri’s eyes, dark and pulling, she was already halfway.
“Well, damn,” She muttered, low. Almost too quiet to catch.
But you caught it. You saw the way her mouth twitched into an intrigued smirk before Ty stepped into her line of sight and launched the ball dead at her chest. “Hell nah. Don't even think about it.”
“Whatchu mean?” Riri retorted, feigning confusion. Her eyes never left you, their glare refusing to let you exhale, her grin still curved and dangerous.
You watched Ty narrow his eyes, a warning flashing across his face—dead serious and in protective older brother mode. “Think I don’t see the way you eyeing my baby sister? I know you, Ri. And I’m telling you no. Fuck no. You not starting nothing with her.”
“Starting what?” Riri lifted a shoulder, all casual, amusement coating her words like this was all funny to her. “I’m just saying hi.”
She lifted her hand in a short wave, eyes glued to yours. And you waved back, slower, bolder—your gaze drifting down the length of her fingers.
Yeah… those fingers would do just fine.
You bit your lip, unable to suppress your ever-growing grin. Your cheeks burned hot, not with shame, but with fire. Thrill thrummed through your veins like static, alive and buzzing as you drank in the image of Riri. You didn’t even pretend to look away. You let her know exactly where you stood: opposite of everything Tyzen was saying.
You wanted her to start something.
Needed it like air.
•••
She didn’t look at you again for the next five minutes, not until you arched a brow in her direction, then turned on your heel and sauntered back toward the house. You knew exactly what you were doing. Knew your ass was practically begging for attention beneath that skirt, and knew Riri wouldn’t be able to ignore the invitation written in every step you took.
By the time you were clicking the door shut behind you, you caught her voice, weightless and nonchalant as she muttered something to Ty about needing to call her mom.
A weak excuse. But you didn’t care.
Whatever got her inside.
Once you were inside, the house felt still. Cool air, dim light, and that quiet hum of anticipation settled into your bones. You took your time on the couch, legs tucked just right, your glass of lemonade perched between your fingers like a prop you knew exactly how to use.
And Riri was right on your heels.
Her sneakers padded lightly over the wood floors as she walked in, slower now, like she was stalling for something she hadn’t admitted to herself yet. She didn’t notice you at first, just moved straight into the kitchen like she knew the layout by heart, because she did. She grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and leaned against the counter while she pulled out her phone.
You listened quietly as her voice lifted, caring and soft.
“Yeah, Ma… I’m still here. Probably for another hour, maybe two… yeah, I’ll be back in time. Promise.”
A pause, then a short laugh. “No, I’m not getting into anything. Just chillin.”
She hung up, set her phone on the counter, and let her weight shift against the kitchen island. That’s when her eyes finally landed on you, traveling up the length of your legs, all the way up your exposed skin until you two were staring at each other.
And just like that, the smirk was back—slow, wide, and full of intent.
You took a sip from your lemonade, straw between your lips as you held her gaze. Deliberate. Unbothered. Dangerous.
“Thought that lil line about calling your mom was a weak ass excuse to come see me,” You said, your voice smooth, head tilted slightly as you played with the straw. “But I respect it. Not lying on your moms like that.”
Riri didn’t take the bait—not directly.
Instead, she stepped a little closer, cocking her head, gold chain catching in the low light. “When you start dressing like that?”
You crossed your legs, slow and precise, your skirt shifting just enough. “I only dress like this when I know who’s coming over.”
Her lips parted like she had something smart to say, but all she managed was a quiet,
“You tryna get me in trouble?”
Your smile didn’t waver, it spread wider. “What if I am?”
The air stretched between you like a balloon threatening to pop. You could tell Riri wanted to say something reckless—do something worse…
Then the front door opened, and the balloon deflated, exhaling all the tension back into the air before returning to its original, boring shape.
Ty walked in, his expression already suspicious. He took one look at Riri, then at you, then back at Riri again before dropping onto the couch beside you like a man with a mission.
“Y’all real quiet in here,” he said slowly, settling in way too comfortably. “I ain't interrupting anything am I?”
You kept your face blank, and took another sip.
Riri just shook her head, that smirk now tucked behind her teeth as she crept over to the couch, dropping down on the other side of you. Her thigh brushed yours—light, unintentional on the surface—but she didn’t move away.
“Nah,” She hummed, grabbing the remote and flipping on the Bulls game, already halfway through. “Just got off the phone with Ma. We got dinner plans later, so y’all only got me for like another hour.”
She said it like it was nothing, eyes glued to the screen, but her body leaned ever so slightly in your direction, like gravity was playing favorites. And you could feel the warmth of her skin where it pressed into yours, barely there but impossible to ignore.
You sat in silence between them, enduring their cheers, screams, and over-the-top commentary through the last two quarters of the game. Normally, you would’ve dipped out, shut yourself in your room, ignored their loud-ass shenanigans. But not today.
Sitting next to Riri was part of the plan. Letting her thigh brush against yours, her palm rest on your bare skin when Tyzen was too caught up in the game to notice, that was the game you were watching.
The corners of your lips curled as her fingers crept higher, slow and shameless, inching closer to the heat between your legs. She hovered there, teasing, always on the edge of something more. Never quite touching, until the final buzzer sounded and the Bulls took the win.
Tyzen jumped up with a shout, arms thrown in the air. And in that moment, Riri slipped two fingers beneath your skirt, rubbing them against the soaked fabric of your panties. Brief, yet firm, just enough for you to become acquainted with the feeling.
It took everything in you not to cry out. Your breath lodged hard in your throat, thighs twitching, nerves stinging. And she knew it. She didn’t even look your way. Riri kept her eyes on the screen like nothing happened, save for the smug little grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
Your heart was racing. Your plan was working like magic. Minimal effort, maximum effect, and you silently thanked whoever made Riri so damn easy to tempt.
You leaned back, watching as your brother walked her to the door, dapped her up, and exchanged their usual “see you laters.” But her focus wasn’t on him.
It was on you.
And of course, you gave her something to look at, letting your legs fall open so she could witness the growing wet stain on the fabric of your lacy panties. You held the pose for a beat, long enough to see her lick her lips before turning back to Ty, who still had his back to you.
“Aight, Ty. Ima see you,” She said, pulling him into a quick hug before heading out.
“Don’t be a stranger, Ri,” You called after her, all flirtation, sugar-sweet and dripping with suggestion.
She didn’t respond, but you caught the shake of her shoulders on the way out as she laughed to herself.
Ty shut the door, then turned to you with that big-brother face that said he knew something was up. And he wasn’t happy.
“I’m warning you right the fuck now,” He began, dead serious. “Whatever ideas you got that involve Riri, get that shit out your head. She’s family. Y’all better dead that shit. I’m not fucking playing.”
“I’m not fucking playing,” You mocked under your breath, rolling your eyes as you stood. “Go to hell, Tyzen.”
Like hell you were gonna listen. He should’ve known better than to waste his breath on you.
You sauntered off to your room, smug and satisfied, heat still pulsing between your legs, and Riri’s touch still lingering like a secret written on your skin.
•••
It was nearly 1 a.m., and sleep wasn’t even pretending to come.
You’d flipped your pillow three times, kicked off the blanket, dragged it back over your legs, rolled to one side, then the other. But the heat under your skin had nothing to do with the room. It was her. Still. Riri’s hands, her smirk, the way her fingers had pressed into you, melding with your wetness like they were supposed to be there. That shit had replayed in your head like your favorite song stuck on loop.
You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, screen lighting up your face in the dark, and stared at it for a few seconds before typing out the first thing that came to mind.
You: ty ain’t home
Simple. To the point. You knew what it meant. And so would she.
Then you waited. And waited.
Forty-five damn minutes passed. Long enough for you to talk yourself out of it twice, then back into it a third time. You tossed your phone onto the mattress with a groan, only to snatch it up the second it buzzed.
Riri: where he at?
You rolled your eyes, already feeling the corners of your mouth tug upward.
You: with his bm
Riri: oh aight
That was it. No follow-up. No movement. Just those two words and radio silence like she didn’t know exactly what the hell you were trying to say.
You tapped back into the chat and reacted to your original message with a little exclamation point. Emphasis, bitch. You knew she saw it.
A minute later:
Riri: okay, he ain’t home. what that mean? lol
You narrowed your eyes at your screen, giggling under your breath even though you were annoyed. She was being so irritating on purpose, and it was almost cute. Almost.
You took a deep breath, chewing your bottom lip before finally typing:
You: it means come over dummy🙄
There was a beat. Then her reply came in, slow, like a smirk in text form.
Riri: what i’m coming over for?
Oh, she knew. She knew and she was dragging it out, sucking every bit of patience you had straight to the surface.
You sat up, head falling back to your headboard with a groan, but you were grinning now, fully wrapped in her little game.
You: what other reason would i have to text you at damn near 2 in the morning? riri stop playing with me.
Another pause.
Riri: you was playing with me earlier. what, i don’t get a turn?
Your stomach fluttered.
She was still teasing, but her tone had shifted, something a little deeper in it now, something real. You could feel the change through the screen.
You: come over then. i promise you’ll get your turn.
You hit send and stared at the message, nerves and excitement warring in your bosom. The silence that followed was louder than anything. You laid back, phone on your chest, eyes on the ceiling, heart thudding.
She was coming, no confirmation text necessary.
•••
About fifteen minutes later, your phone lit up with a single text:
Riri: outside.
That was all it took.
You damn near flew down the stairs, bare feet silent on the wood. You’d done away with the oversized T-shirt you fell asleep in, swapping it out, instead, for something silkier, sexier—your short, satin nightgown. The material moved against your body like it had a motive. Just the right amount of skin, just enough reveal. You didn’t throw it on for comfort.
This was bait.
You paused at the door, hand on the knob, imitating the tact needed to play it cool. Then you cracked it open.
The night air rolled over your skin, light and dry, making your curls dance as the door swung wide. And there she was.
Riri stood just outside, one hand buried in the pockets of her grey sweats, the other gripping her backpack, holding it in place on her muscular shoulder. That black tank stretched across her chest in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else. Her gold chain glistened, the little “R” pendant resting right at her collarbone like punctuation. She looked comfortable, casual, too casual for someone making this many waves in your system.
Her eyes dragged down your body languidly, stopping and lingering over everything you had exposed to her.
“Damn,” She said, that smirk creeping onto her lips. “You don’t leave nothing up to the imagination, do you?”
You raised a brow. “And yet somehow you still standing there imagining shit.”
That remark made her laugh, and you rolled your eyes. “This whole situation amusing you, huh?”
“Lil bit, yeah,” She said, not bothering to deny it. “You gon invite me in or…?”
“In a minute,” you murmured, leaning into the doorframe, voice lazy and sweet. “Need some time to remember what you look like before...”
She huffed a laugh, eyes dancing. You saw the way her fingers twitched in her pockets like she was resisting the urge to reach for you already. That cocky patience of hers was barely holding.
You gave her a slow once-over, letting your gaze linger unapologetically. “Sweats and a tank, huh? That’s what you wear to your 2 a.m. booty calls?”
Her brows lifted. “That what this is?”
“You showed up, didn’t you?”
“Who says I wasn't already on the way over? Maybe I had to handle something for your brother.”
“Mhmm,” You said, drawing the sound out. “And maybe I'm just wearing this because I ran out of clean laundry.”
She laughed again, scratching her nose a little. “You so full of shit.”
“Just like you, boo.”
That made her smile for real, and you stepped aside to let her in. You held out your hand, fingers open.
Riri didn’t hesitate, she just slid her hand into yours like it belonged there.
And without another word, you turned, leading her up the stairs, hips swaying, entrancing the shorter girl with every stride. Her hand stayed in yours the whole way, grip firm.
She was still smiling when you pushed open your bedroom door, and she stepped through, eyes dark and knowing.
•••
Your bedside lamp casted a gentle glow over the room, accentuating your shadow and Riri’s as you walked into the space.
She stepped inside behind you, locking the door with a quiet finality. Riri dropped her backpack onto the chair in the corner without a word, turning to look around your space like she hadn’t been in your room a thousand times before.
But this wasn’t the same room anymore. Not tonight.
You leaned against your dresser, arms folded just under your chest, nightgown sliding dangerously high up your thigh. You watched her as she stood there, hands in her pockets again like that could somehow keep her grounded.
“What’s in the bag, Ri?” You asked, voice dripping with mischief, head tilted in curiosity. You already had a feeling. And judging by the flicker of a smirk on her face, she knew you knew.
She hadn't answered right away, just looked over at you with that slow-burning kind of gaze that fried a hole through your skin.
And in true Riri fashion, she deflected, wandering toward your bed like she owned the place. “What would Ty think if he knew his little sister was texting me in the middle of the night like that? Using the fact that he with his kid to get me over here?”
You laughed under your breath, “I look like I give a fuck what Tyzen think?”
“No. You don't.” Riri sat down at the edge of your bed, legs spread slightly, arms resting on her knees like she was holding back. Her eyes dipped to the hem of your gown again, lingered, then snapped back to your face. “So what, you just couldn’t sleep?”
You walked towards her. Slowly, every step deliberate. “Couldn’t sleep,” You echoed, standing between her knees now, letting her fingers skim your silky nightgown. “Had a lot on my mind.”
Riri looked up at you, her breath cracking just slightly. “Oh yeah?”
You nodded, letting your fingers trail lightly across her shoulder, then down her chest, just grazing that damn chain.
“Like what?”
“You.” You blew it jaggedly, the answer to her question full of air and unrelenting lust. “You were on my mind, Ri.”
The silence between you stretched again, electric and tightly wound. Her hands twitched where they rested on her thighs. She was barely holding on, and so were you.
Riri reached for you, wrapped a hot palm around the expanse of your thigh, pulling you closer with a famished grunt. “I need to know you're sure about this. Need you to know what you're starting.”
“Oh, I know what I’m starting, Ri,” You purred, letting your digits tangle in her thick curls. You yanked her neck back, your force rough and unapologetic, causing her to wince beneath you. “Question is… do you know what you’ve started? That you're not leaving this room until I’m done with you?”
That yanked another breathy grunt from her throat. Not really a laugh. Not quite a moan. But something that let you know she felt your words all the way through.
“Been thinking about you all day,” She admitted, finally, the words soft but heavy, like they cost her something to say. “Since earlier… since before earlier.
Her slender digits were traveling up your inner thigh now, like your core was calling them home, drawing them closer and closer like a magnet. “Thinking bout all that ass you been flashing me,”
“This pussy…” Eager fingertips found your soaked crotch, your wetness coating Riri’s hand. She began rubbing slow circles into your budding clit, coaxing a few rapid moans from between your parted lips. “Fuck. I should’ve known your nasty ass wouldn't have any panties on up under here.”
This time she did moan, and fuck was the desperate little noise glorious. “I been trying to be good, but damn, you make it so fucking hard, bruh.”
“Funny,” You tilted your head, mouth curling. “I been thinking something similar for the past five months you been gone. Except, I never planned to be good, never wanted to.”
You shoved her hard, making sure she landed smack dab in the middle of your mattress before straddling her hips. In a swift, skilled motion, you peeled your nightgown off, discarding it somewhere to the side, not caring. What you cared about was the girl trapped underneath you, practically drooling as she stared up at your naked figure.
“Jesus Christ…” Riri exhaled, forcing you to taste the hunger she breathed into the air.
You giggled, leaning down to drag your tongue up the length of her throat. Then you nibbled on her earlobe, lips brushing the shell of it as you whispered, “You were too fucking easy.”
Riri’s hands gripped your bare ass, fingers digging in as she bucked her hips up into you, her clothed crotch pressing right where you needed it. “I was easy? You were the one prancing around the house in that thong you insist on calling a skirt.”
“You folded during a Bulls game.” You quipped, eyes glittering.
She smacked your ass hard enough to make you screech. “You had your legs open.”
“You had your fingers under my skirt.”
You were grinning down at her now, still perched in her lap, shamelessly grinding against her, chasing friction like your life depended on it. “This little tit for tat we got going is hot and all, but we both know why I called you over here. I need to be fucked, Ri. Now.”
“So demanding,” She smiled deviously. “And vulgar too. Just like a nasty little slut..” She pulled you down, kissing you then, slow at first, but there was no tiptoeing now. No guessing. Just mouths parting, hands moving, heat rising between you like a fire finally fed. Your hands found her hair as her grip tightened on your hips, pulling you closer, closer, like the space between you was never meant to exist in the first place.
You were the one to break the kiss, breathless, your hands tugging at the fabric still separating you. Riri was still fully dressed, and it was starting to piss you off. “Take this shit off.”
“Get off me and I will.”
You rolled your eyes, but obliged. The two of you switched positions, and you gawked from below as Riri ridded her body of every article of clothing, including her briefs. Immediately, your gaze dropped to her pussy. Neatly trimmed and calling your name, beckoning you near.
You hadn't even noticed you were reaching for her until Riri stopped you. “Not yet.”
Her refusal caused you to groan.
“You never been told no before?” She chuckled, eyes gleaming as she hovered over you, clearly amused.
You stared up at her, deadpan, wearing a face that screamed what the fuck do you think?
Riri only shook her head, moving to kiss your neck and you whimpered. Her lips traced a path down your throat, over your collarbone, dragging heat in their wake. It was deliberate. Reverent. She was finally taking what she’d been eyeing all night.
You arched under her touch, skin prickling as the cool air met warm flesh. Her mouth followed, and when it closed around your right nipple, your breath caught hard, hips bucking up into nothing, a quiet moan slipping out before you could stop it.
“You getting shy on me baby?” She teased, returning to suckle your left breast next.
You slid your fingers into her hair, tugging harshly, just enough to make her exhale against your skin. “I don’t even know what that word means.”
“Reckless girl…” Riri muttered, eyeing you with menacing intent.
You laughed, but it melted fast when her hand slipped between your legs, sliding over your throbbing, attention starved clit. “Riri… please.”
She hissed, “Damn baby, you wet as fuck…”
The wonder in her voice served as motivation, “Yeah, no shit,” You spat, already breathless, already unraveling. “You took forever.”
Riri didn't reward you with a worded response, instead, she let her digits do the talking. Her middle finger ran up the length of your wet folds, rousing, hovering at your crying entrance before sinking in, deep.
A whine sprung free, loud and reverberating, and you thanked the heavens your mother was a heavy sleeper. Riri’s slow strokes were plucked straight from your dreams, a thing you'd imagined, but never thought you'd get the chance to live. She let her fingers slip through you, slow and firm and devastatingly good. You were moaning, a mess splayed out beneath her. Your hips lifted off the bed, reaching for more.
Her thumb circled your swollen nub, her fingers slipped in and out of your soaked cunt, and the pressure built fast, like your body had been holding this tension for days instead of hours.
You were abusing Riri’s curls, pulling and fisting every strand as you felt your climax build in your deepest depths.
“Riri… right t-there! Don't fucking stop! Don't!”
She didn't. If anything, she got more focused, her eyes locked on your face like she wanted to watch the moment you fell apart for her. “This all I needed to do to get yo ass to act right? Hmm?”
You didn't respond because you couldn't.
She smiled, “You look so fucking good right now baby, all stuffed with my fingers,” She pulled them out momentarily, eyes transfixed on the way your slick coated the digits. “Sound good too. So loud for me, so messy.”
Riri splashed around in your sopping cunt, coaxing your orgasm nearer and nearer with her rapid thrusts and sinful words. You would say she didn't know what she was doing to you, but she did, wholeheartedly. And you knew she'd keep going, keep fucking you hard and deep until you were weeping, and begging her to stop.
“Wonder if you taste as good as you look.”
You hummed, plastering a dazed smile across your mouth, “You know I fucking do.”
“So mouthy, baby,” Riri whispered, her wet lips traveling the length of your abdomen, making their way down, down, down. “Can't wait to shut you up again with my tongue.”
Your breathing was already ragged, your legs already twitching as her mouth ghosted lower, teasing just above where you needed her most. Her wet hands pushed your legs apart, spreading them with no hesitation. You watched her eyes roll the moment she heard a soft squish erupt from your wet pussy as your thighs separated for her, felt her breathy moan kiss your sweaty flesh as she moved her mouth closer to your heaving cunt.
You tried to say something smart, another slick comment, another jab, but the words got caught in the back of your throat the second her tongue flicked out, attacking your clit with haste.
All at once, your sass collapsed into a gasp, your hand flying up to grab onto something, anything, needing something to anchor you in this moment. But Riri didn’t give you time to adjust, didn’t let you settle, she kept going, kept tasting you like she had all night and nothing else to do.
Riri’s mouth attacked your aching pussy, latching on to your clit, breathing you in like a woman drowning, and starved for oxygen. She slurped and sucked, drinking all of your juices as you thrashed above her.
She paused for half a second, lips slick, eyes gleaming. “Still got something to say?”
You wanted to smack her, just a little. Just to remind her who she was dealing with. But violence would have to wait.
She was making you feel too good. Your orgasm was clawing its way up, hot and heavy, and there was no stopping it now.
The wet sounds of her tongue lapping you up, her hungry growls vibrating against your skin. It was all so obscene, and it was everything. Riri wasn’t just trying to make you come. She was consuming you, like she needed you to live.
And fuck, she was getting off on it too.
You could feel it in the way her hands trembled, in how she rutted subtly against the mattress with every moan that tore out of your throat. This wasn’t just about you. The way your voice broke on her name, the way your body writhed under her mouth, it was all pushing her to the edge, too.
If the tension in her frame meant anything, Riri was going to come right along with you.
And fuck, that thought alone almost finished you.
“Ri, baby, I’m close. S-So close…” You whined, fucking her face with your slippery cunt.
And she didn't shy away. Riri quenched her thirst with pools of your slick juices, suckling harder on your sore little nub, trying to bring you closer. “Me too baby. Come in my mouth, make me take that shit.”
You howled, the sound dragged raw from the pit of your stomach as your vision blurred, then vanished completely, eyes rolling back, going white with the force of it. You couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. All you could do was feel.
And fuck, did you feel it.
Waves of pleasure crashed through your body, relentless and overwhelming, tearing through your senses like a storm. Your toes curled, locked in place, your body trembling as you rode it out, desperate to hold onto the high for as long as possible. You didn’t want it to end. You weren’t ready to let it go.
You were gone, so out of it that you didn’t even realize Riri was coming too, twitching between your thighs as her own orgasm sucked her under. But she’d come up before you had. And now, she was murmuring something low, lips brushing your inner thigh, her hand smoothing over your stomach like she was trying to coax you back to earth.
Trying to remind you you were still here.
Still hers.
“Baby? You good?” Her voice was muffled, faint in your ringing ears, but you heard it.
You managed a weak nod, barely able to make out her drenched face through your blurred vision, and she chuckled.
“You never squirted like that before, huh?” She sounded confident in her accusation, and you wanted to slap that smug smirk right off her face.
But she was right, and you let her know, “No… f-first time…”
“I can tell. I never came from just eating pussy either. Guess we both got firsts tonight.”
You grinned wide, finally able to take in just how soaked her face really was, like she’d laid there and let you waterboard her on purpose. She looked satisfied as hell, licking her lips slowly, chest jumping as she tried to catch her breath.
You smirked, voice syrupy and bold. “Don’t tell me you a one-nut wonder, Ri. That’d be… disappointing.”
Riri huffed a little laugh, shaking her head as she peered down at you, wonder stricken by your tenacity. “You really think that?”
You shrugged, smirk still sitting pretty on your lips. You weren’t backing down.
Your gaze followed her lazily as she stepped off the bed, sauntering toward the chair where she’d dropped her backpack earlier. Her eyes were glinting, mischief written all over her face as she picked it up and walked it back over to you.
“Still wanna know what I got in here?” Riri asked, voice steeped in trouble.
Your laugh was one you could not swallow, it’s intensity causing you to topple over into your mattress, cheeks blazing, and your stomach bubbling with excitement.
Your laugh broke out before you could stop it, loud and bright, your the quiet room. You collapsed back into your pillows, cheeks flushed, stomach flipping with anticipation.
You already knew you were in for it.
You couldn’t fucking wait.
•••
“Knew you’d be tight, but god f-fucking damn, b-baby…”
You were on top of her, riding her specialty strap like there was no tomorrow. Your thighs were burning, a thick, sticky ring of cum already gathered at the base of the toy, but you refused to relent. The stretch was too good, the girthy member spreading your walls wide as you took her, over and over again at your own pace.
Of course Riri wasn’t helping. She just gripped your hips, holding you there, letting you do all the work while her eyes dragged over your body, half-lidded but locked in. Watching you bounce on her dick like she was committing it to memory. Like the show was just for her.
You hated how much that turned you on. Hated how smug she looked, how languid her touch was, like she knew you’d ride her regardless. And she wasn’t wrong.
So you’d given yourself a new mission: Break her chill exterior and make her lose it completely. Make her beg for release just like you had.
And judging by the way her grip on your waist kept tightening… maybe you were getting close.
“Yeah? My pussy feel good wrapped around that big dick, don't it, Ri?” You flipped your hair to the side, eyes penetrating her soul as you grinded down harder, more fervent than before.
Shit this was good. No, it was fucking fantastic. Your third orgasm was clawing its way out, so close you could taste its flavor all over your tongue.
Riri was a mess beneath you, whimpering louder than you now. Her thumbs dug into your lower back, leaving heat in their wake as she clung to you. She was rutting up into you, her thrusts syncing perfectly with your relentless grind. The both of you were chasing the same wild and wordless sensation.
“Shit, y-yeah. Too damn good. Fin- Finna bust in this pretty pussy baby… mmm.”
That declaration made you clench around her, strangling her dick with your gushing, wet walls. But Riri fucked up into you anyway, working against your restriction. God, you could combust right here, right now.
“Play with your titties for me.” Her voice was a rasp that hardly existed.
You obeyed without reluctance, lifting your palms from her damp abdomen to tug on your puffy nipples. You groaned immediately at the contact, hips jerking forward on Riri’s pelvis. You were dripping now, clenching tighter with every movement as you climbed toward something holy, chasing relief like it owed you salvation.
“Baby… I’m finna come, finna come inside baby shit…” She was delirious, “Keep showing off for me. Please, please, please don't stop.”
You couldn't help the way your lips flicked. God this girl was soo easy to test. But you loved it. You continued fondling your breasts and tweaking your nipples, moaning all the while. Your attentive buds had always been so extra sensitive.
“You wanna come in me?” You picked up your pace, fully aware of how close she was to the edge. Your well-used cunt clenched in anticipation, eager to welcome every drop of what she was about to give you.
“Mhmm! Wan– Wanna–”
You leaned forward, cradling her sweaty throat in your palm… and squeezed. “Beg for it.”
Defiance flared in her eyes, and you could tell Riri wanted to rebut, but the way you held her neck in your grip barred any chance of that happening.
And she had no choice but to adhere.
“Let me come in this tight pussy, ma. I’m begging you. Let me fill your hole up, please. I need to fuck it back into you when it starts to spill out… baby… I-I, I need– please...”
Blubbering and pathetic. Just how you liked your women.
You smirked, you knew it would take nothing to tip her over now. She was practically crying as she struggled to hold it in.
But you weren't quite done with her yet.
You were slamming down onto her dick, hard and rough like you like it, strangling her, restricting her airway as you edged yourself again and again.
And then you let her go, allowing her to take her first breath of air in minutes, before whispering, “Fuck me from the back and nut in me, Ri.”
Riri didn’t need to be told twice. In seconds, she had you flipped onto your stomach, her grip firm and unrelenting as she manhandled you into place, your face buried in the pillows, the scent of your own skin and sweat surrounding you, hips yanked up until your ass was arched and begging.
“Shit…” She hissed, reacclimating her strap to the warmth of your hole.
You barely had time to catch your breath before she started moving, like she knew the exact angle that would have you clenching the sheets and biting down on a moan. “Fuck me Ri, fuck meeee… ju-st like th-at!”
“Like this, ma? This how you wanted it?”
You whined agreement, knees beginning to buckle.
“You not giving up on me yet, right baby? We not done.”
Riri slammed into you, once, twice, three times before you felt her hot seed settle into your entrance, warming your body all over. But she didn't stop fucking her mess deep into you.
Your orgasm followed just seconds after hers. Quicker than the last, but slower in how it bloomed through you. It rolled over every nerve ending like it was dragged by gravity, heavy and hot, stretching the moment into something endless. Your limbs went limp, and for a second, it felt like time cracked open and spilled out.
“Wish you could see how fucking messy you are right now, you're dripping.” She was still gliding in and out of you, like she physically could not stop—she couldn't let your pussy go. “So filthy.”
You gasped, too fucked out to stop her, not really wanting her to stop anyway. “Fuck it back into me, Ri. Make me take it.”
You didn't need to see her face to know she wore her signature smirk on her mouth, already granting your request without a sliver of hesitation. “God baby, you look so pretty when you full… need to keep you like this. Full of me. Full of you. Shit…”
•••
Minutes passed, maybe hours. You couldn’t really tell. Somehow, you were waking, eyes breaking open from what felt like the deepest sleep. Your limbs were heavy, your body sore in the best, most sinful way. You were warm, wrapped in sheets and skin, the faintest scent of sex still lingered in the air.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Riri’s voice drifted over you like a hug you didn’t ask for, but most certainly needed after the shit she put you through. You smiled without thinking, full grin, lazy and genuine.
She didn’t let it slide.
“Not you grinning when you hear my voice. Ego boost.”
“Girl, shut the hell up.” You giggled, turning your face toward her, cheek pressed into the pillow.
“You sleep okay?”
“Mhmm.”
She was already watching you, one hand kneading your ass like she wasn’t yet finished with you. Like she’d never be done. But the suggestion in her eyes was quiet now. She looked thoughtful. And a little hesitant.
“So,” She started, fingers still moving, “Not to
bombard you with the ‘what are we’ question, but…”
You blinked at her, fully awake now. “You say as you bombard me with the ‘what are we’ question.”
“I just wanna know what this means for us. You telling me you wouldn't wanna know what we are after the way we just fucked?”
“Riri–” You began, but she cut you off.
“And I don’t wanna lie to Ty,” She added, a little quieter. “He’s my best friend. You know how it is. But I’m not gonna act like this didn’t happen. Or like I don’t want it to happen again. I want it to keep happening.”
You rolled onto your side, facing her completely. “You think I regret this?”
Riri shrugged, but there was something vulnerable in the way she avoided your eyes. “You always been good at acting like shit don't phase you, so.”
“Only when it’s shit I don’t want,” You said simply. “And I want this, I want you. We’ll just... deal with Tyzen when the sun comes up.”
That got her to smile again. Not cocky this time. Just soft. Real.
You leaned in and kissed her, slow and steady, with none of the urgency from earlier. It wasn’t about wanting. It was about having.
And when you both finally pulled away, bodies entangled beneath the covers, you let the silence hold you for once.
No teasing. No biting. No banter.
Just the two of you, breathing in sync.
Sleep found you like that—arms wrapped around each other, legs locked, your satisfied grin still tucked into her collarbone.
summary: after breaking up with your girlfriend, all you want is to be comforted by your best friend. and you are... just not in the way you'd imagined.
word count: 1.5k
contains: smut (18+) best friends to lovers, praise (riri is actually sort of nice for once), size!kink, breeding!kink, choking, strap!riri, dirty talk
note: this ain't the riri y'all are waiting on, but it's the riri you're getting. take it or leave it. enjoy, mwah mwah! aight, bye!
“Put it in Ri,” You whined, breath hitching as you felt the tip of her strap nudge your wet clit again. She was playing with you. Like you were her toy. Though you supposed in this very moment—in this very position—legs elevated, knees on either side of your ear, toes aimed toward the heavens—you were her toy. You were hers to tease and provoke.
Riri chuckled, biting her lip chillingly as she rammed into your awaiting hole without warning, and you moaned out, breathless. “I did.”
Swiftly, she began rocking in and out of your heated chasm, giving you almost no time to acclimate to her girth. This strap design was different than you were used to. Bigger. Better.
“Tell me that shit feel good.” She fucked you deep, long strokes sending seismic waves of pleasure through your core, the feeling building and stacking on top of itself as it was evenly dispersed throughout your body. You felt it in your stomach, surging through your arms, thighs, shins, all the way down to your curling toes.
But you were bereft of words.
A desperate gurgle flew past your lips as Riri’s dick brushed against your nerves. Not a response to her command, but it was all you had, too blissed out from the feel of being stretched and fucked into your soaked mattress.
“Come on baby, tell me how good I feel inside you,” Riri leaned forward, attaching her lips to your blemished neck, sucking on the abused skin. “You wanted me inside, now I am. So tell me how good I’m stretching you. Tell me it's big.”
You whimpered, allowing her lust charged words and the sloppy, sticky sounds coming from your cunt to heighten your arousal.
She did feel good inside you, soooo fucking good. Giving your tight, aching pussy exactly what she’d been wanting for. Your eyes were blown, lips parted as desperate moans exploded from the pits of your belly. Your senses were flooding with pleasure you’d never foreseen yourself knowing, fingernails burrowed into Riri’s back, disturbing the flesh there. You were overcome with every delightful sensation known to man, showering in buckets of the stuff.
But how were you to voice that with anything other than sounds of ecstasy?
“You not gon talk to me, pretty?” She grunted in between strokes, her warm exhale stinging your already steaming skin. “I can tell you how good you feel around me. How I love the way you squeezing my shit–” She inhaled sharply, parting her lips against your shoulder. There were bruises there too. “S-So tight, s-o warm, ma.”
Oh God. Was she stuttering because of… you? Because of how fucking you was making her feel?
Shit. That was so fucking sexy, but you couldn't help the blaze that flooded your cheeks, the mortification. And on instinct, your palms flew up to cover your face. An act that seemed not permitted by the genius plowing your depths.
“Uh-Uh baby,” She swatted your hands away. “Don't do that. Don't you dare.”
“Mmm…”
“Don't hide from me. You too fucking pretty to be hiding.” Riri bucked into your hole, a tattooed hand pinning your arms above your head as she glided out, then back in again, splashing your wetness everywhere. “I need to see you. If I’m gon come inside this pussy, I need to see those eyes. You hear me?”
You nodded in between cries. You could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your skull—you were close too.
This is not how you pictured your night ending. Six hours ago you were bawling, picking up your phone to call your best friend, ready to confess that your girlfriend had cheated, again. Ready for her to come over with snacks and wine, eager to console you.
Which she did.
What you hadn't expected was to end up beneath her in your very own bed, as she fucked you like a woman starving, moaning your name again and again.
There were tears welling your eyes once more, but these tears were brought on by lust and longing, something you thought had been unrequited since childhood.
You hadn't expected to ever get a taste of Riri in this way. Truthfully your mind wasn't computing it, this… opportunity. Or anything other than the ever-tightening coil in your depths for that matter.
But you clung to it.
“Ri…” Your first coherent utterance since Riri slipped her dick into your cunt. It was low, horse, but audible.
And she heard it, the blow of the syllable making her grin. “Yeah baby. Talk to me.”
“Feelssssogoood.”
“It do, don't it, this dick?”
You bobbed your head, “Y-Yes.”
“You like how deep I am?”
“Mhmm.”
You could see it in the glint of her deep brown eyes—the quiet bloom of pride in her chest. It was a look you knew well. It appeared when she helped you study for exams and again when you returned with a passing grade. You caught it when she took the first bite of a meal you had cooked just for her.
And it appeared now, as she watched her thick strap tunnel into your creamy depths.
“You gon come for me, beautiful?” She pushed off you and onto her knees, letting go of your wrists, which had been pinned above your head.
Her hot palm found your throat, constricting your airway. No way she actually expected you to speak. Right?
Your eyes floated up to where she towered above you, following the bead of sweat rolling down between the valley of her perky breasts, her perfect abs. And then you stopped on the spot where her eyes were concentrated.
Riri’s sight was transfixed on the image of you swallowing her whole. Wonderstruck.
“Are you going to come for me?” Her voice turned stern, tattooed grip on your neck strengthening. Yet, she wasn't looking at your face. Still caught up in the way your pussy spit her dick out over and over on command.
Her grunts grew louder with each sloppy thrust, teeth sinking deeper into her bottom lip. Almost deep enough to draw blood. “Talk to me.” She gritted out.
Was this what Riri was like when she was on the precipice of an orgasm? Mean, hungry, frenzied?
God, how you would do anything to see your best friend like this, keep her like this. On top of you. Inside of you. All the time.
“I-I’m gonna come Ri. G-Gonna come!”
“On this dick?” She grunted.
“Yes! Fuck! Gonna come all over that big fucking dick!”
Her stare flew from your cunt to your eyes, shocked at your very confident, very coherent, declaration. And she smiled, long and wide. There was that pride again. “That's my nasty fucking girl.”
Something inside you snapped at her comment, causing you to smirk, finally giving her what she's been demanding. “Keep fucking me like that Ri. You fuck me so good! The best!”
“Better than her?”
What an unnecessary question, you thought. Your ex paled in comparison to Riri. In every way. And a part of you felt she knew that. She would never, and would never live up to the entity that was Riri Williams.
The Riri Williams that fucked you like her life depended on it. The Riri Williams whose piercing chocolate orbs seemed… uncertain before yours now. Like the answer to her question needed to be yes, because her life depended on that too.
“Yes Riri. Better than her!”
She fucking growled, a low rumble in her chest. “Gonna come inside this messy pussy. Gonna make a mess of my own, deep inside.”
“Fucking fill me up, baby. Mark me.”
Her sloppy thrusts gain speed, and Riri knocked into your guts, eliciting lewd cries and screams from you with her lazy thrusts. “You want me to mark this pussy? My pussy?”
“Yesssss! Ooh fuck yes, Ri! Mark me! It's yours! All yours!”
You were so damn close you could taste it. It wouldn't take much to fully tip you over, which Riri knew.
“Come with me, ma. Come on this big dick while I fill you up.”
You squeezed her tighter, and you could tell she wanted to throw her head back. But she wouldn't dare let her gaze leave yours.
“Riiiii!”
“That's it baby. Look at me. Keep looking at me. Right here.”
Your heaving hole locked Riri’s strap in place, allowing for one last stroke before she stopped completely.
And then you felt it. Felt her warm cum spill into you immediately after. It was then that she threw her head back, eyes squeezed tight as you watched water trickle down her cheeks. She mumbled your name and a string of other words jaggedly, and your heart snapped.
You were expelling your own stream of cum and tears soon after, releasing on and all around her still twitching dick. You felt so full, and so whole. With her.
Pleasure surged through you, blinding you, immobilizing you as you lay there shaking and panting.
Eventually, Riri was able to ease her way out of your center, pulling strings and ropes of cum out with her before laying beside you. She brushed the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead so she could actually see you and the features she had laid to waste. Then she kissed you, long and slow, and you matched her ferver.
“I love you… too.” You mumbled, echoing the words she whispered as she came. “Always have. Always will.”
And then you were drifting, permitting sleep to submerge you.
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