thinking about riri fixing things in your apartment.
she's so eager to be of help in your personal space. a handyman hasn't touched your apartment since you met.
that's what you bonded over, actually. you were at home with your roommate when her friend came over. and a friend of a friend. a really cute friend of a friend. the entire time you had company over, you and your rommate profusely apologized for the apartment that seemed to never stop falling apart. malia, your roomate, and amaya, her 'friend', were people you knew and knew well. but amaya's friend, riri, was someone you hadn't gotten to know, at least until then.
you cursed at yourself and the sink (mainly the sink) for spraying water everywhere because of its stupid high water pressure. from behind, a snicker traveled to your ears and echoed in your brain. with a contorted face, you eyes shot daggers at the girl behind you who couldn't get enough of the mishap.
"if you gonna laugh, at least be loud. tryna hide it like i got something to be embarrased about-"
"only thing embarassing is that faucet being broken," she paused, eyes dragging a little too slow your figure. "you ain't got shit to be embarrased about." riri's words entered the awkward interaction more suggestive than you liked, and a lot more suggestive than she intended them to sound. "i can fix it for you-"
you were the one who snickered, then. loudly too. "you gonna fix my sink? really?"
the girl in front of you nodded with enthusiam. your eyebrows shot up and a smirk danced its way onto your face.
"if i get to see your pretty face," another pause, "then yea. free 99."
of course, you didn't think she was being serious. not really. but riri showed up every damn time with that damn red toolbox; it was like she was attached to it at the hip. and every damn time she showed up with that dirty white tank clinging to her skin, the one she wears just for fixing shit, and the line of her sports bra peeking from the achingly thin material. and every damn time you open the door, all her 32 are showing, shining in the sunlight. and every fucking damn time she trails close behind you, never letting you leave her sight.
its like riri knows exactly what's wrong, like she hears the ringing of broken metal. you don't even have to tell her, she just knows. maybe its malia talking to amaya who talks to riri, but that would seem highly coincidental.
when she's fixing something she makes sure you stay in the room to keep her company.
when she's not under counters, sighing in frustration, pulling her tank to her forehead to wipe her sweat, her abs flexing from pulling, poking, and prodding at metal, she's pulling you to wherever she is--up on ladders, down to the floor, closer to her and the level on the wall--talking you through everything she's doing. making sure you know what's wrong but never how to fix it. she'd rather come back 100 times to fix the same thing than to have you never call her again, needing some help (or rather her company).
maybe im js down bad for smthn smart n sexy but i luv this n i luv her
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.
she can't contain herself when she sees you with a fresh set. every two weeks she sends you money to spend it on yourself, especially on your nails.
she can’t explain it; they just do something to her.
riri always needs to be in your hands: her face cupped by your fingers, your arms wrapped around her shoulders as she pulls you in closer, your acrylics digging into her back as she fucks you harder, the corners of them digging into her neck while you attempt to ground yourself. the second your nails drag across her skin, a switch flips in her brain she can never turn off.
french nails are her favorite. black ones too. coffin, square. anything long and blunt.
she loves feeling them inside her the most. even when your digits are curved, when the pads of your fingers hit her soft spot so perfectly, your nails still manage to go deeper and deeper, massaging the right place and making her see stars.
the girl just can’t get enough.
after a while, she begun to get her nails done too. at first it felt unnatural; she had spent years developing callouses and moisturizing dry spots to harden her hands for engineering. never, in a million years, did she think she’d sit in a salon getting a manicure. but she’s most definitely in that chair with you every week, matching her gel to your acrylic to let everyone know she’s yours and you’re hers.
tgl: @criaaturaa @lyfeofbilly @newctrll @glimreaperss @mitchesmoon @impinkalicious (i cant tag u but ur here in spirit) if u wanna be added/taken off pls comment!!
exgf!riri who never got over your last argument. she knows she fucked up; she lied and you had every right to not want anything to do with her. she was just trying to protect you, to keep you from all of her drama, her personal shit, but you couldn't trust her; not afrer you found out about her "hobby" and "tech job". she hurt you, and that alone she could never live with.
exgf!riri who regardless of her guilt will never tell you she was wrong. she’s so fucking stubborn, that’s why you guys broke up; she swore she wasn’t gonna get hurt and insisted you stay the hell away from anything to do with her job or ironheart. she might not get hurt, but she definitely didn’t want you getting hurt.
exgf!riri who jumped from girl to girl after the breakup, looking for you in everyone she kissed. she couldn’t get you out of her mind: your voice, your laugh, your lips. there had to be a piece of you somewhere, in someone. every time she frlt your energy she fell feet deeper into euphoria; she chased that feeling everywhere she went, and if that meant kissing 5 girls in one night to be reminded of you then so be it.
exgf!riri who made sure you saw her with the girls she paraded around. post after post, picture after picture, party after party. riri got around knowing eventually she would creep into your head. when your friends took pictures to post, she’d pull a girl a little too close just in case you’d see it. or sneak a kiss in the background of a group shot so you could spiral later.
exgf!riri who asks about you with no shame. when your name comes up she sits quietly, and waits, and listens. but those around her dont know her racing heart has dropped to her stomach, her pulse is off the charts, and her head is banging with want. she listens and listens so she can know what she can no longer ask you personally: how you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with. and then she pops a question. or five.
exgf!riri who lies and says she doesn't care about you. truthfully, you are all she cares about—all she has ever cared about. she hasn’t loved someone, put her everything into someone, since she was young. you took a chance on her only to lose it.
exgf!riri who stalks your social media pages as well as every girl you have been linked too. your replacements could never amount to her. she knows cause you never keep them for long; one girl for three weeks, another for five. they cant sooth the itch in the ways riri can; you both know that.
exgf!riri who directs all her stories and reposts towards you under the guise of her roster. when her friends ask, it’s about some girl she met last week. but truthfully? every post is about you—all of them—and they will forever be about you. she posts and posts and hopes one day you’ll see it and know it’s about you.
exgf!riri who goes to parties your mutual friends host, hoping you will be in attendance. she stares, and watches, and scowls at whomever is on your arm
exgf!riri who drowned in jealousy when you showed up to your friends' annual halloween party anything but alone. watching you smile with someone, dance with someone, laugh with someone, be with someone that wasn’t her tugged a piece of her heart she hadn’t yet named. and for you to taunt her so publicly? to drag around a nameless suitor and roll your hips against a waist that didn’t match the eyes you stared into made her drop to her knees in agony. it should have been her; it was always her.
exgf!riri who scares every fling you have away. you can never keep a girl for long because they never stay, because riri makes them leave. ever since your break-up she has found who you were with and made it her life’s mission to get in the way of possibility. her future belonged to you; she will do anything in her power to get you to realize that.
exgf!riri who watches you in every class you share. she stares, examines your every move. you never return the favor, but you know she’s observing. she studies you, your teeth imprints on the wood of your opencil, the way the musclues of your hand contract and relax as your pen gides over the page, she studies your hair framing your features perfectly no matter the style, she's studied you so much she has you memorized
exgf!riri who hid her smirk under a grimace when your professor assigned you as partners for an assignment. it was a chance at last. forced or not, you would speak to her and she would cherish every moment with you, of you.
exgf!riri who's heart dropped when you texted her. she couldn’t believe it was real: the notification, the assignment. maybe she was dreaming, maybe profesor made a mistake. she couldn’t process the excitement coursing through her veins, a feeling only familiar from you—a breathlessness only you could quell.
when and where?
i thought you had me blocked.
i thought u couldn't stand the look of me but i guess we both liars huh
im not getting a 0 cuz of u
just be here at 8.
exgf!riri who only wants you. who misses you in every way: you laugh, your smile, your mind, your skin. there is no one else for here and, surely, no one else for you. she knew from the first minute she saw you; she knew the first time you came to her garage; she knew when she opened up to you and you made her feel nothing but comfort and love; she knew when she cried in her mother’s arms about your break-up and instead of ms. ronnie crying with her, she told riri to get it the fuck together; it was always you.
exgf!riri who's itching to be in your presence again. to feel your body on hers is a dying wish she will fight not caring if it will ever be granted. 8pm couldn’t come fast enough; she paced her room, sweat drowning her forehead and padding the nape of her neck. she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t be around you knowing she can’t have you all to herself
exgf!riri who knows if she feels so strongly, it can't be unrequited.
a/n: i was going to add some smut but theres soooooo much riri smut and not enough fluff. heres my treat to u. maybe ill post a pt.2 with some nsfw idkidk
song: i'm baby - ambre, jvck james
riri who acts like she hates when u ask to touch/bite/hug her biceps but always silently waits for u to ask. she never thought about her arms until you began dating. the first time you asked to cuddle her biceps, she looked at you more confused than ever. but, secretly, she enjoyed having you lay on top of her, back to front, inside her arms, kissing her biceps and hands. it unlocked a whole new level of intimacy. now, she can't go too long without hearing your voice call for her and her arms.
riri who watches her arm as it snakes around ur waist cause she loves seeing you wrapped in her. without failure, her eyes watch languidly: in the mirror while you check your outfit, at the front door when you come home from work, laying down, cuddling eachother. you allowing her to hold you means she’s yours, and she could never get enough.
riri who is fascinated with picking u up, especially with one arm. the feel of your body in her hands, her arm flexing around your soft figure, your chest in her face. it is a feeling she never wants to let go of. when she looks up at you, your smile shining across your face, her stomach evaporates into butterflies.
riri who loves when u trace her tattoos. seeing your fingers dance across her sleeve ignites a fire she could never put out. when you trace the tattoo atop her spine and shoulder blades, and she feels your breath on her neck, hears your voice in her ears, she clams up like the day she fessed to being in love with you.
riri who is obsessed with kissing you. her lips could stay on yours for hours, and she'd never grow tired. if she could live a life of only kissing you she would. feeling your soft lips on hers, listening to your needy whines and huffs, barely resisting your grabby hands tearing at her shirt, sliding your hands up her abs makes her mind an embarassing level of hazy.
riri who can't contain herself when you touch her abs. seeing your hands slide up her abdomen makes her brain short-circuit. she can barely speak, let alone think when your hands are on her, pulling at her hips, kissing the v-line tattoo of your initials. at times, she dreams about those moments and living it a thousand times.
riri who comes home from a long day of ironhearting, beelines straight to you, and lays her head in your chest. the sound of your heartbeat never fails to comfort her after an adrenaline filled night. during missions, the only place she wants to be is next to you, laying on you, laying her face in your chest. the position sends her straight to sleep, especially after some forehead kisses and her riddling your chest and collarbone in kisses.
riri who can't keep her eyes, and apparently her hands, off your thighs. there is not a moment, especially when you're in public, when she is not touching your thighs. she can't get enough of you sitting in her lap, the gap in your thighs disappearing, and her hands massaging your quads and the dip where they connect to your hips. when you're at home in a pathetic excuse of shorts barely covering your body, her stare burning into your thick thighs and the sliver of ass exposed from the fabric around your hips, a part of you can't resist either.
riri who knew she was falling in love when she let you kiss her with slow fervor, both hands cupping her face, and your chin lifting to grant a peck to her forehead afterward. she had never had a seirous relationship prior to you and, frankly, she was always afraid of falling too deep. she could never stay too long: always removed her body from intimate contact in seconds, never stayed the night after sex, always kept kisses and intimacy rough so emotions didn't have time to penetrate, never allowed for a kiss anywhere but her lips; especially not on her forehead. but with you, she’s a different person. she knows how deep in it she was, and she never wants to climb out.
a/n: criminally short. don’t kill me. enjoy the moodboard + these hcs. fic soon🙂 auction soon after🙂🙂🙂
- asks u for help at every inconvenience
“baby aint there a spell for this?”
- zelma has beef w her, partially cuz sisters haveee to have beef w their sibling’s partners, but also cuz riri is just so cocky it drives her insane
“you do realize you don’t know everything about everything.”
“.. oh but i do.”
- if u master a teleportation spell, riri wants u to use it all the time. she misses u? teleport. she’s away for college? teleport. you don’t have a ride? teleport. she’s needy? teleport. its the perfect method
- sometimes doesn’t believe in ur magic only cuz she doesn’t understand it
- but because she can’t understand it makes her fall so much more in love with u
- she has to work for you, learn you.
- everyone else she meets is so one dimensional. but you? there’s more to you that meets the eye, and she can never quite focus.
- her momma loves you. down.
- she’s pulling at ur arm when its time to go cause y’all just never stop talking to eachother
- you give ms.ronnie ‘soup recipies’ and ‘concoctions’ to ‘help’ with different things but, really, theyre spells
“why you givin my momma all that witchcraft shit?”
“girl bye. you still dont believe in that broom touchin your feet. you a witch too.”
- complains about your habits and ways of working but secretly believes in them and follows along
- secretly owns a quartz wand and charges it on full moons
- definitely cleanses with sage every sunday
she’s just transformed after spending time with you, trust.
a/n: is this js sub!riri hcs? yes. do i care? no. do u guys care? fuckkkk no. so lets continue. js a cute drabble thats been chipping away at me for ages. i lowk wanna do an extended version but i have no ideas so if u do pls send them!!!!!!! black. lesbian. as always. pls enjoy luvs.
riri knew what she was getting into when she told you she loved you.
smoke clouds filled the room, bodies were packed nearly on top of eachother, and there you two were: drinks in hand after ri dragged you away from a dumb decision. you couldn’t get back with your ex, you shouldn’t, especially not when you had her.
a part of you, all of you, enjoyed it. you enjoyed watching her struggle to find words when you asked why you shouldnt dance with someone else. you enjoyed watching her face contort and limbs shift uncomfortably when your hips found a waist that wasn’t hers. you enjoyed gazing into her eyes and seeing her get increasingly nervous. you enjoyed observing her lips quiver when your mouth found the opening of a soda can; they should’ve been on hers instead.
because even when she dragged you away out of anger and kissed you in that party, only the taste of smoke filling your senses, she was sure she wanted more—wanted all of you. every request you had, she could answer.
you always want to match with riri and she faithfully obliges
“$150 ok for the nails?”
“is that for the both of us? cause if not, it certainly ain’t ok.”
you who loves coordinating outfits but your girlfriend loves it even more cause everyone knows who she came with
“that your girl?”
“you blind? the fit says it all.”
and every time her breath picks up, hitches, and her gaze breaks, you ask the same question
“you nervous, ri?”
and you receive the same answer
“i dont get nervous.”
she’s lying, of course. big red buzzer. but she just wants to make you feel how you make her feel: stomach so warm you could bake a pie, pumping adrenaline, and a constant urge to hold—to kiss
you always let her know how much you love her and she feels so appreciated. cause when you walk up behind her, in front of the mirror, whispering your thoughts into her ear, searching her body, hands roaming under her shirt, she’d give nothing more than to spend more moments with you
she loves your voice, the sound of it, the tone of it. she gets off at the thought of you speaking to her. if she’s not with you, she’s calling you just to have the sound of your voice playing in her mind.
when you need a place to sit, riri is first to offer her lap. showing you off gives her joy, excites her. a hand dangerously low on your hip, lingering kisses on your neck, people know she’s yours.
and riri wears your necklace like a trophy because when she told you she loved you she meant it; she answers all of your calls.
