ᝰ.ᐟ see Riri Williams is naturally avoidant. So when the two of you have issues she tends to get closed off, defensive, etc.
“Okay, okay…I’m cool off this shit.”
“Not gon’ lie I’m tired, baby. I’m going to sleep.”
“No, ma. I don’t wanna talk right now, just gimme some space.”
ᝰ.ᐟ she either gets really dry or irritated when she’s mad.
ᝰ.ᐟ a lot of the time y’all’s texts look like this when the two of you are mid arguments. she starts to clam up, isolate, and she genuinely needs space to think. When she tries to address stuff, her delivery is off.
ᝰ.ᐟ despite how sassy this woman is she hates hates arguing but she also hates losing.
ᝰ.ᐟ riri doesn’t ever go as far as cussing you out or ever arguing with you in public though. She doesn’t call you out your name or like call out your trauma. She petty not cruel.
ᝰ.ᐟ I fear it’s nonchalant central around here.
ᝰ.ᐟ when yall argue, she’s glaring at you and sighing because she’s imagining cussing you out. (She would never but GOD does she want to.)
ᝰ.ᐟ if you’re the type to keep yelling during arguments she actually gets so heated .
“Can you just—, ouuu just relax.”
“You stay yelling.”
ᝰ.ᐟ At first she tries to take the mature route but the minute you start all that shit goes out the window.
“I feel like you not supporting-“
“How am I not support-“
“Baby please, You gon’ let me finish or not?
ᝰ.ᐟ she wants space after a bad argument.
ᝰ.ᐟ the minute you bring up her suit, her being Ironheart or her working in her garage she gets defensive. But she really tries not to because she knows you not coming from a bad place.
ᝰ.ᐟ her mom CAN tell when the two of you have argued because Riri gets so irritable and when she is, she cries and her mother soothes her.
ᝰ.ᐟ really majority of your arguments happen when the pressures of her being a hero and the stuff she doesn’t talk about pile up, this is the PEAK of y’all’s rough patch.
ᝰ.ᐟ while she’s not all to blame, she’s very hyper independent and can be emotionally constipated which is the stem of y’all’s issues on her end.
ᝰ.ᐟ she gets really annoyed when she gets interrupted and she goes on MUTE just to so she doesn’t say anything out of turn and lets you talk.
ᝰ.ᐟ if you’re the type to avoid or gloss over and issue that won’t work either: she NEEDS to know what you meant when you said all the shit you said.
“So earlier when you said all I do is spend time playing with metal scrapes, fuck you mean by that?”
“So you think I waste my time playing dress up with a super suit?”
ᝰ.ᐟ And you realize over time that it’s not throw the shit back in your face it’s because she’s hurt and she’s worried that you undermine her work.
ᝰ.ᐟ because this is genuinely the roughest patch you and her have been through and you and her both agree that a break is needed and it lasts about 3-4 months.
as you stood outside riri's door, you wondered what bullshit gods allowed this to happen. the earlier events of the day wouldn't cease its replay in your head.
how riri walked into the only class you shared late without a care in the world, as if the weight of the world wasn't constantly on her shoulders, as if she didn't miss you. how she held your gaze regardless of the disgust that riddled your face until she got to the row before you, sitting down to flirt with your classmate for the duration of the hour. how your professor refused to change his partner pairings for the project he'd been going on about for the entirety of the semester. how you managed to end up with riri. how after seeing the pairing, riri smirked at you and burned the shape of your figure into her eyes, "stuck with me now huh?"
no part of your body could determine how many minutes had passed of you tapping your feet, doing everything but knocking on the dorm you practically lived in months ago. if you asked yourself then, you wouldn'tve imagined there'd be an ounce of hatred in your body while standing in front of this doorway.
after fighting every bone, you convinced yourself to raise a fist to the wood. but before you could knock on the door, the knob turned, and behind the corridor stood riri.
in that moment, both of you froze. it’d been hours of convincing yourself to not take the F for the assignment and go home, and you didn't think about what would happen after she opened the door. a part of you wanted to punch her, a desire that grew as she barely fought the grin pulling at her lips.
riri didn't know what to do either; people from her hall had been texting her about a girl standing outside her dorm, but she didn't think it was you. when she opened the door, and saw the face she never thought she'd see in her room again, she nearly chuckled to herself. she shouldv'e known. the two of you made plans to meet at her dorm at eight, and frankly, it was all she could think about. but much of her didn't believe you would actually show up.
the girl in front of you leaned on the doorway, fidgeting with her fingers. you watched as she tried to come up with a way to break the ice, her tongue poking her cheek.
"got people thinkin' i'm a hoe or some shit, like i got girls waiting for me outside my crib."
"and you ain't?"
your words cut the air with a coldness unfamiliar to her. she'd seen this side of you, enjoyed this side of you, but never been the recipient. somehow your stament only made the ice thicker, and forced riri to readjust herself, standing straight and unfolding her arms from cross her chest, tucking them in the pockets of the sweatpants that hung far too low on her hips.
her jaw tightened, chewing on words that she deemed inadequate for your ears.
"i thought you knew me better."
"i did too."
your shoulders brushed as you pushed into her dorm, and although riri should've felt offended, your action only elicited excitement out of her: excitement to be with you again, excitement to feel your skin against hers.
the bed sighed with a soft creak when you sat on its edge, your thighs spreading to fill the non-existent gap between your legs.
riri watched you as you walked and sat, slowly closing the door behind her. dragging herself to her desk, she fell into her chair and turned to you as she waited for you to say something.
after painfully long seconds of silence, she decided to speak.
“i ain't think you’d come.”
“you’d fail without me.”
before you showed up at her door, you thought about what not coming would mean for your grade, your pride, for riri. as the lie jumped from your lips, you reflected on the email to your professor sitting in your drafts, pleading to be switched to another partner, but you knew he would never listen, only laugh and tell you to push through it.
riri chuckled, not caring to hold it back. she knew you lied; she ain't never failed no asignment in her life, and your ego wouldn't change that.
“whatever helps you sleep at night. if you wanted to see me just say that, ma.”
before she even finished her statement, your eyes almost fell out their sockets with how hard you rolled them.
“riana, i’m here for a project. don’t start your games cause i’m not playing.”
a small grin pulled at riri's lips
“i don’t play no games, but if you insist.”
the chair spun under her when she stood up. her arms reached the sky as she stretched, and it felt purposeful how her hoodie raised a sinfully perfect amount, exposing her happy trail and navel piercing.
she sighed, releasing the tension from the day that seemed to dissipate with you, and looked forward, surprised to catch you already looking at her. for a moment, her mouth opened to speak. quickly, she shut it again, not wanting to give you an excuse to leave. her grin widened a bit, and she walked over to you.
the second her eyes caught yours, you looked down, scrambling through your bag and pulling out random supplies. riri must've known; known that you were peeking; known that your heart sped up, even if it was by just a few beats.
she stood over you, peering into the bag you dug your face in and drowning you in her scent.
"what'chu got in there?"
scared to look up, you scoffed.
"ain't yo' mama ever tell you to sit down somewhere?"
riri scoffed then, too, and you heard the wheels of her desk chair roll before you.
"riri, i ain't mean over here-"
"where else? this my dorm."
she returned to her resting place on her chair, now directly in front of you.
frustrated, you began to go over what your professor summarized in class and brainstormed ideas for the project. for minutes on end, only you filled the silence, eager to finish this project as fast as you started it. riri's unwavering eyes burned into you, her body and face unmoving for the duration of the time you spoke.
in front of you, riri sat manspread, leaned back and legs open. her hands lie folded in her lap, and her brows were slightly furrowed, befuddled by your calmness. her eyes never let go of you, of your words, of your figure. they tore away at you, ripping you apart and saving every detail for analysis.
"with that being said, we need to calculate and prove the outcomes of 5 theorems and-"
“why you talkin' to me like we ain't fuck on that bed you sittin' on?”
for the first time since entering her dorm, your gaze cut to riri. finally meeting her eyes, the pit in your stomach twisted.
riri's eyes were red and low, presumably from a blunt she smoked before you came. as you got lost in her gaze, a grin cemented itself on her face, notifying you she knew exactly what you were thinking about. she knew you were thinking about the night you rode her with and without the strap. the night she kept her head between your legs until they were jelly. the night she made you watch her, hands tied above your head.
a part of you—a large part—wanted so badly to go back to the nights you spent awake and tangled in each other, blunts ablaze and eyes low; the memories were slowly fading, and riri knew you would do anything to get them back like she was trying her hardest to make you realize your regret.
but you knew riri almost as much as she knew you. you knew how she spent her evenings: stalking you on social media, hunting down whoever you were with and scaring them away. you knew about her efforts to make you jealous and the late nights she spent missing you, texting you on her ‘blocked’ number.
“why you actin like you aint been beggin to fuck me again?”
riri's brows shot up, pleasantly surprised by your confidence.
”i’m not in the mood, riana. im here to get this shit done and go."
"nah," a pause filled the room. "no you not."
your face contorted in confusion.
"fuck you mean 'nah'?" you questioned, "i think i'd know why i came here, ri."
"you know i like my name comin' out your mouth, and you usin it a lot." riri leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose, accompanying the movement, and sitting just at the midpoint of her bridge to frame her eyes perfectly. "if you wanted to get this done and go, you would've just emailed me and done this shit on your own. you wanted to see me."
her statement evoked an unnamed part of you swimming in nervousness. it was hard to hide: your flusteredness. your heart picked up speed even more than it did when you saw that sliver of her abs, and your skin began to flush with warmth, getting high from her proximity. you ignored the itch for more of her, and you continued. with a scowl painting your face.
"i thought i told you i wasn't here for your games."
"why did you come then?" she questioned, "cause it damn well wasn't for this project." riri paused just long enough to take a good look at you. her eyes narrowed and scanned your body, picking up on clues and hints you could never find yourself. "and i wanna know why you gettin nervous. i thought you ain't care for me no more?" a grin still sitting her face, she successfully cornered you, and there was no method of escape.
"ri-"
riri's voice dipped, her low tone meeting your ears with a sweetness you'd never acknowledge. "there go my name again. be careful with that, ma."
"or what?" you challenged, "i don't care for you. at all. so don't get shit twisted-"
“why u leanin in then?”
suddenly, you realized the nonexistent distance between your faces. you didn't know what possessed you--frustration, anger, longing. but it was driving you insane, and riri always seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.
🪽your cravings weren’t that bad at first, but now she either gags at the thought of them or is sick of em.
🪽even though you’re only 3 months along, she hates when you leave for work.
“Baby I’m just saying, you shouldn’t still be at work!”
Riri was hot on your tail, adamant about you working from home for the remainder of your pregnancy. From the moment you woke up, showered, and got dressed, you were bombarded with questions
“I’ll be fine, can you relax?” You shrugged her off, trying to decide between navy blue or black slacks.
🪽her hands always find their way to your baby bump, no matter how annoyed you are.
🪽she talks to your bump whenever she can, she claims it makes the baby smarter.
🪽she says she doesn’t care about the sex of the baby, but deep down she really wants a girl.
🪽is ALWAYS buying baby clothes when she goes out, even though you’re running out of space.
“Look how cute!”
“We have nowhere to put that Ri.”
🪽wants the baby to be a junior SOOOO bad.
“Just think about it, Riri Williams Jr. Sounds catchy right?”
“And if it’s a boy?”
“Riri don't sound unisex to you?”
🪽hates being away from you too long. she’ll text you 24/7 when she’s at work.
🪽Ms.Ronnie is always getting onto her about giving you space.
“Riri leave the girl alone!”
“I can't cuddle my own wife now?”
“She pregnant and uncomfortable, give her some room.”
🪽has a collection of first time mom books. says that the advice that her mom gives her sounds a bit….questionable.
“Taping a quarter to the baby's bellybutton ma?”
“Yea, so they’ll have an innie instead of outtie,”
