mitchesmoon

[mitchesmoon]

NSFW! • ALPHABET

annie x fem reader

summary: bunch of gay shit with my girl annieee

cw: everything smut related obvi, use of the nword, mentions of violence, knife play, impact play, the works

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a = aftercare

Annie likes to know you’re taken care of in all ways. Whether it be making sure you have a full stomach early in the morning or a warm place to rest your head after a day of work, she takes care of all your needs. That extends perfectly to your after sex care as well.

Annie loves to massage your body—rid you of the aching in your thighs or pain in your knees from kneeling on the hard wooden floors of her shack, eating her out.

You extend this courtesy to her as well. When Annie has spent a particularly long time pleasuring you or giving you her pleasure, you make sure to fix her a nice bath. You heat up a pot of water on the stove, pouring it into her tub and joining her if she so desires.

b = body part

Annie adores your titties. Couldn’t get enough of them if she tried. She likes it when you sleep in your silk chemise with nothing underneath. It gives her the perfect opportunity to rest her hands or face in your chest. She once said, “If I ever suffocate in yo’ titties, it’s the best way I could go out.”

Annie loves every part of her own body, but as she’s aged, she’s found an adoration for her curves. She loves the way her body dips and turns and flushes in certain spots. She loves the way your hands fit in her curves most of all.

c = cum

The first time you two had sex was the first time you learned that Annie was a squirter. It was the first time she learned that as well.

She had good sex before you but never to the point of blacking out and cumming like a mad man who didn’t know any better.

You love it about her—you love drinking up every bit of her she has to give.

d = dirty secret

Annie is an open book.

She never keeps any secrets from you about her desires or fantasies or kinks. She tells it all, knowing you will supply her needs.

e = experience

Before you, Annie had never been with a woman before. Or anyone besides Smoke, but she didn’t let that stop her.

She loves to make up for the lost time and chance for experience by learning all of your body’s quirks. She revels in being able to bring you to a quick orgasm just as much as she loves drawing your pleasure out.

She’s learned with time what your sex faces mean and when you’re on the verge of orgasm or simply wanting more.

Even though she lacked the experience you had with women, she gladly allowed you to teach her.

f = favorite position

It’s hard for Annie to choose just one position as her favorite, but she could easily narrow it down to you on your knees while she rides your face or you laying on your back while she takes care of you in every way you desire.

She loves to watch every face you make while giving and receiving pleasure. It spurs her on.

g = goofy

Annie doesn’t like to limit herself in the bedroom, and in the beginning of your relationship—as she tried to explore and learn—you both would find yourselves breaking into a fit of laughter fairly often.

One time, when Annie was trying to climb on top of your face, she ended up slipping and falling off the side of the bed. You scrambled, raising your voice and asking if she was ok. Blanket wrapped around your waist, you kneeled on the floor to help her up, but all Annie could do was laugh.

“Are you ok,” you ask, a confused look pulling at your eyebrows. You grab her face, pulling her into you to check for any damage to your love, but she just laughs.

“Did you see that,” she giggles. “You eat it so good I couldn’t even sit down well enough before falling over.” You blink you eyes in amusement, never having seen her so carefree and light.

h = hair

Annie definitely has a full on bush. She keeps it nice and tidy, but she—and you—prefer to leave her pubic area more natural.

i = intimacy

Your woman shows love in a way you’ve never experienced before. She balances the erotic, passion-filled sex and romantic, intimate sex well, not favoring one over the other.

You appreciate romantic Annie. Romantic Annie likes to have candles lit and Bessie Smith playing smoothly through the phonograph in your bedroom. Romantic Annie likes to sip on cherry wine while slow dancing with you, windows open to let it the cool air of a late summer night.

When you have true intimate and romantic sex, it’s slow and not reliant upon a quick orgasm or breaking down of the other person’s body. You get to explore each other and whisper I love you’s to the tune of blues.

j = jack off

She fucks herself to the thought of you. Your moans. Your body. Your hot, aroused skin pressed against hers. Everything about you gets her going to the point of not being able to stop her fingers from trailing underneath the fabric of her dress.

You come home early from work, missing your woman and simply wanting to love on her. It had been a hard week of grueling work, and you hadn’t been able to spend as much time together as you’d prefer.

Walking through the front door, her name on the tip of your tongue, you stop as you hear a sound coming from the back end of your home.

Your bedroom.

You walk down the hall, muffled cries becoming more distinct the closer you get. You find your shared bedroom door slightly ajar. On the bed is Annie. Her legs are spread wide. Her dress is hoisted up to her full hips, and the top that’s meant to cover her breasts is down, allowing her titties to bounce freely.

You admire her form as she fucks herself wildly. Three fingers are being thrusted in and out of her dripping cunt, and her chest heaves at the intensity.

“Oh, y/n,” she moans. You think for a second that she caught you watching her, but her head is thrown back and her eyes are squeezed shut.

You then realize: she’s cumming to the thought of you alone.

k = kink

Annie is definitely down for some impact play, there’s no doubt about it. Whether she’s feeling more dominant or submissive, she’s willing to partake in a little bit of painful pleasure.

When she wants to give, she lets you choose what method she’ll inflict, giving you options between her hand or a belt.

When she receives, she wants to go the whole way: tied up, eyes covered, ass in the air, and taking it. You love to watch the way her ass recoils as you spank her progressively harder. Her moans heighten, bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Music to your ears.

Annie also has an affinity for calling you daddy when she’s in a submissive mood. But you’ve come to realize that she uses it to get her way every time.

l = location

When the weather permits it, you and Annie fuck outside. She always said it was a spiritual experience to be in nature, so when you recommended that y’all have sex in the wide open Mississippi sun, she was all for it.

“Fuck yes, baby,” you cry directly into Annie’s pussy as her head is buried between your trembling legs. Underneath you is nothing but a sheer blanket and tufts of overgrown grass and Annie.

You love when y’all change up the routine and fuck under the clouds, and giving and receiving at the same time has your body feeling like it’s floating amongst those clouds.

Annie groans as you get back you work. She nibbles at your folds, trying not to drown in you but ultimately wanting to.

You fuck each other with a burning passion. The slight breeze that rustles the grasses around you tickles your skin. It eases the perspiration brought on by the sun and it whispers in both of your ears. The wind seems to talk to you both, urging you to give each other what you desire. To make love like you never have before.

You listen, leaning fully into Annie and palming her plump ass. She brings your own pelvis closer into her desperate lips, and for just a second, it seems like the whole earth goes quiet, waiting for what’s next.

Your breathing falters—as does Annie’s, and in a flash of cries and cum, y’all are orgasming into each other’s mouths.

m = motivation

When out on the town and at somebody’s juke, you and Annie are sure to pull in a lot of attention. Women and men alike flock to you both, offering to buy you drinks or asking for a dance, but you both shoo them off with a calm no thank you.

On one occasion though, you planned to meet Annie at the juke instead of riding together on account of her wanting to arrive with a few of her friends.

As you stroll in, you search high and low for your Annie, needing to reach out and hold her to the tune of some slow, crooning blues.

You look around and see Mary and Pearline, knowing Annie just had to be close by. They meet your gaze as you walk their way, but worry quickly flashes over their faces. They share a look before glancing to the side for just half a second. But you catch it.

You move your gaze toward that direction to find your woman in the arms of another man.

Leroy Archibald. That nigga been trying to get Annie alone for the longest, and the one day you arrive after her of course he takes it as his chance.

You straighten out your clothes, smoothing the non-wrinkled fabric in order to cool your nerves. Mary and Pearline attempt to stop you from making a scene, knowing you don’t play when it comes to Annie, but when Leroy pulls Annie into him and she tries to fight back against him, you jump into action.

“So you gon’ sit up in my face and fool ‘round with my woman, nigga?”

You revel at the way Leroy immediately let’s Annie’s body go, trembling at the feeling of a well-sharpened blade lined up perfectly at the base of his throat.

In your youth, you were known to do damage to a man, but people began to take your matured-adulthood for weakness. Everyone in the juke stopped dancing to watch as you confront Leroy, but all you can care about is Annie.

“Lo-look, y/n,” he stuttered. “I ain’t even mean nothing by it. I promise! She asked me for a dance—SHIT!” You kick him in the back of the knee, causing him to crumble into a kneeling position. You lay your eyes on Annie as the blade presses further into his neck.

“He hurt you any, sweetheart,” you ask her gently. Her eyes are blown. Seeing you so protective of her, ready to cut this man in front of a juke full of people has her body warming up all over. Mary and Pearline come to stand by her side again.

“He,” she begins, interrupted by his cries for you to let him go. You press the blade a little harder to shut him up.

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout him, suga’. Now go on. Tell me.”

Your persuasive and guiding voice just adds on to her growing arousal. You prompting her to speak, pulls her submissive side out of her.

“He wouldn’t let me go when I asked ‘im,” she admits, making your blood boil. “But I’m good, love. I think he learned his lesson.” She gazed down at Leroy’s tear-streaked face. You believe what she’s saying, but you aren’t gonna let any man feel like he could get that close to your woman again.

You force Leroy up to his feet, pushing him through the crowd. You stop at Annie and whisper in her ear:

“I’m just gon’ go handle this right quick, baby. Don’t worry.”

You assurance forces butterflies to flutter around her insides as she—along with the crowd—watches you take Leroy into a side room. Before the door closes fully, she sees you throw him to the floor and begin punching the asshole out of him.

The whole scene has her motivated to treat you well tonight. When y’all get home, she vows to give you some good loving.

n = no

Annie is open to most things, but in the trying of new positions and ways to have sex, she realized that she isn’t a huge fan of knife play. Intrigued by your show of aggression with Leroy Archibald, Annie wanted to play around with your blade. But she quickly realized that it wasn’t for her when she actually felt the weight of it on her neck, even though you were as gentle as ever.

Afterwards, you gave her as much love as she could handle, thanking her for her time and effort. You ran her a warm bath, placing dried rose petals in to calm her body.

“Can you get in with me,” she stops you just before you can cross the door’s threshold. Her eyes are big with emotion, and you can tell that she just wants to be close. So without answering, you strip off your few clothes and settle in the tub behind her.

Annie’s body fully melts into yours, the hot water and rose petals tickling your skin.

o = oral

As stated, Annie loves head. Giving. Receiving. It doesn’t matter. She has never had her pussy ate so good until you came into her life, and she never thought pussy would taste as good as yours does.

Whenever Annie can get a mouthful of you, she is a happy woman.

p = pace

Annie has times where she likes it fast and times where she likes it slow. It all depends on her mood or if she’s been stressed recently. When she’s stressed, you make sure to take her slow and calm her worried mind bit by bit.

More often than not, it works.

q = quickie

She doesn’t prefer quickies in the slightest. She likes to have her hands on you for as long as humanly possible, but if needed, she’ll settle for quick sex.

Sometimes when you’ve spent the entire day thinking about her, you’ll come home during your short lunch break. When she hears your truck pounding down the dirt road, she knows exactly what type of time you’re on. She pounces on you as soon as you make it through the door, wasting no time at all.

r = risks

Everything has technically been a risk so far. Since you’re the second sexual partner she’s ever had, she’s been open to trying a plethora of different things.

Risks are what make the bedroom fun.

s = stamina

“I wanna go again,” Annie breaths, climbing back on top of you. You both have already gone three rounds. The night has consisted of you on your knees near the front door, barely getting inside the house good before ravaging her body; you on your back with Annie’s fingers knuckles deep in your arousal; and you grinding your clit against your lover’s as she pulled on your hair roughly and with no remorse.

Annie has a sexual appetite that you can definitely satiate, so as she practically demands for more, you are quick to give it to her. You throw her off of you, her back meeting the firm surface of the quilt-covered bed. She lets out a huff at the harshness of your love, but you soothe her with an unchaste kiss.

“Please, y/n,” she cries, grinding against your thigh that’s made it between her legs. Looking down, you get an idea. A sinister grin causes her body to shiver.

“You want it, suga’,” you question in a lower, teasing voice.

“Please, daddy,” she coos, trying to get you to break and just let her have it. “I want you so bad.”

You kiss along her already mark-riddled neck, pushing her just a tad bit further into her submission. She grabs at your body, clenching around your thigh. You lean into her ear:

“If you want it so bad,” you growl, “then fuckin’ work for it.” You slap the side of her ass and force her hips to grind harder on your exposed thigh. The feeling of her arousal on your skin and the way she gave in so easily makes you want to cry.

You and Annie were meant for each other in every way.

As she moans your name and cums on your thigh, you’re made even more sure of that fact.

t = toys

She believes in pleasure that is for sure. She loves getting in touch with her body by taking care of her own needs. In a Modern AU, Annie is a bullet vibrator type of girl. Something small to satisfy herself. She takes care of the rest of her needs with her hands alone.

u = unfair

“You remember when you made me work for that orgasm, daddy,” Annie questions, harping down your ear as she lightly spanks your clit. She has you tied to the bed, something about trying new things since it was normally her that liked being restrained.

You jump as she lands a heavy hand directly to your jewel, you try to close your legs to rid yourself of the torture, but it backfires.

“You had me humpin’ your thigh like a bitch in heat,” her Louisiana accent curls around you. A false sense of safety pools in the air; Her voice is so sweet yet so deadly.

“Come on, Annie,” you grumble, pulling at the ties around your wrists as she toys with you. She laughs deeply at your attempts

“Oh, daddy,” she purrs. “You’re deeply mistaken. I’m gon’ make you pay. Gon’ have you moanin’ my name like it’s the only word you can remember.” Annie lays a harsh slap to your inner thigh, making you tremble at the way it sends pleasure straight to your core.

You look at her with low, pleading eyes.

“Tomorrow Sunday, baby,” she nods while trailing her nails down your exposed chest. “The Lord’s day. That means we got all night to have fun and all day tomorrow to rest.”

v = volume

You live in the middle of the Mississippi Delta which lends itself to the opportunity of being loud whenever you feel like it. There’s no neighbors within a five mile radius. Nothing but coyotes, tall grasses, and wide ponds, and you like it that way. Especially when Annie gets particularly into it, screaming things like “Fuck me like you mean it;” “Eat this pussy, daddy;” “You know, I’m all yours.”

It’s like a game you play with yourself, trying to get her to be louder than she was the time before. It’s like beating your own high score.

w = wild card if smoke came home after 7 years but walked in on y’all fucking.

Annie never imagined Smoke would come home. He has been away so long that other people began to fill the spaces he previously occupied. Annie was her own woman with a good, stable life. So when he came barging into your home, seeing the both of you laid across the living room floor, all of you were beyond shocked.

“Right there, baby,” Annie moans as she grinds against your face. Her hand is behind your head, providing her with good stability to be able to fuck into you. “Look at that pretty face. All covered in me.” You whine into her, grabbing onto her thighs and going to town.

Her grip on your head loosens as she lets out a wail of pleasure so loud that you both missed the sound of a truck door slamming outside.

You stick your tongue into her and watch as her titties flail from the erratic movement of your thrusts.

“YES!”

Just as she cums on your tongue, the front door bursts open, causing you to quickly pull a blanket from the couch to cover her before grabbing your gun that stays hidden in the floor boards.

You’re met with the sight of an aggressive-looking man. Clean cut with a nice suit on. Gun pointed at you. You’re about to pull the trigger, but the sound of Annie’s voice stops you.

“Smoke?”

x = x-ray

Annie is a beautiful woman with a sturdy body. She grew up with people calling her solid, and she certainly is that. You love to just trace her naked form with your eyes. Not touching. Just looking.

There’s something about her curves that simply mesmerizes you.

Your eyes become caught in the valley between her breasts, unknowing of what direction to follow next. They glide over her waist and hips, delighting in her hip dips and stretch marks.

Annie is all woman, and as you watch her, she doesn’t think once about shying away. Your desire-laced eyes fuel her and heighten her confidence.

y = yearning

You sit across the table from Annie, unable to concentrate on the conversation being held because she won’t stop throwing you looks. Y’all are at Grace and Bo’s for dinner. Pearline and Mary are here as well, but as always, it feels like you and Annie are in your own world.

She bites her lip, and you feel her heeled-foot sneak up the side of your calf. A shot of electricity runs through your body as you envision all the things you could be doing to her body.

Her dress sits lower on her chest, showing more cleavage than you think acceptable for a dinner, but you support her nonetheless. In the background is just a mess of muffles as you both seem to communicate telepathically.

“Damn,” Mary breathes, breaking you from your reverie. “Do y’all not get tired of jumpin’ each others bones?” The table agrees with her question, giggling and shaking their heads at the way you continue to eye each other.

“Not when it’s as good as it is,” Annie remarks with a sly grin.

z = zzz

“Annie,” you whisper softly, rocking her body to see if she is finished recovering. After your fourth round of the night, Annie rested her head in your titties comfortably, citing that she needed to close her eyes for a spell.

You knew that was code for I’ll be asleep in five minutes, but you didn’t stop her, knowing she needed a break from all the pleasure.

When she doesn’t answer your call, you pull the quilted blanket over both of your bodies, tucking it in to make her feel more secure. You place a loving kiss to her forehead and rub your hand along her back. Facing your head toward the ceiling, you smile at the wonderfulness that is your life.

[mitchesmoon]

country! riri williams NSFW ALPHABET

[A through O]

Divider from @muerdida

PSA - Minors DNI, if you aren’t 18+ feel free to read other works but not this one. Thank you!

P to Z

I was genuinely holding back writing these. Anyway, I need riri so bad. I saw like four edits and her voice is SAURRRR sexy. Like I’m hurt that she’s not real.

this is long, take a seat y’all

🏷️🌾 : @pvnks0ul @mariquitaaa @riris-heart @shuririsecretl0v3r @enaspaces @idyllicbby @diouna @chxxms @naomis-daydream

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ᥫ᭡ sleepy 7/10, she’s ready to knock the hell out. She’ll ask if you’re okay, ask if you need anything but the minute she hears no she’s gone. Mostly because YOU wore her out (yes you bc in my head riri is a SWITCH and to be more specific like she’s def more of a service/praise driven girl thank you vv much)

ᥫ᭡ She’s also super cuddly. Like she’ll curl into you and tuck her face into your neck. She likes when you twirl her locs, rub her back and her ass.

ᥫ᭡ Basically she needs to be babied even if she put in that work.

ᥫ᭡ Either y’all knock out or she’ll smoke a blunt with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ᥫ᭡ her favorite body part on herself is probably her quads either that or her abs she works really hard for em. Like a lot of the times she lounges in the house in boy shorts and tight top and she pauses in like every mirror to look at how defined her legs have gotten. You can feel them when you sit in her lap even through her soiled jeans.

ᥫ᭡ She likes when she’s fucking you and you put a hand on her abs, like she herself isn’t sure why she gets so cocky when you do that.

“riri…it’s too deep.”

She’ll look down at where your hand’s trembling against her and grab your hand just to lift your palm to her face to kiss it.

“s’that right?”

ᥫ᭡ Her favorite body part of your body is probably your neck which may sound off but she likes kissing you there, leaving hickeys there. Either that or your ass, she likes laying her head on it, likes grabbing it, all the things.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

ᥫ᭡ she’s eating it. Licking it off your thighs.

ᥫ᭡ Does she eat her own? Yes she’s a strap sucker I don’t make the rules. Debate w somebody else.

ᥫ᭡ No but seriously, she doesn’t care if you’re creamer or a squirter she’s eating it off the fuckin bone every damn time and kissing you square on the mouth after.

ᥫ᭡ She’s a creamer. And an OCCASIONAL squirter. No I won’t elaborate.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

ᥫ᭡ she absolutely wears sleeveless tops on purpose when she’s working on the farm because she knows you’re staring at her sweaty arms.

ᥫ᭡ Has absolutely thought about fucking you in her truck and having people walk past. She’s js easy man idk.

ᥫ᭡ She actually starts arguments on purpose so y’all can fuck and you know this because the arguments never make fucking sense.

ᥫ᭡ she steals your USED panties and puts them in the back pocket of her jeans, so she has a reminder of you while she works.

ᥫ᭡ LOVES mirror sex like way more than she’d like to admit.

ᥫ᭡ if she knows it’s just you and her on the farm, she’s wearing that strap underneath her boy shorts.

ᥫ᭡ sends you voice messages of her rubbing one out and fingering herself if you’re out for too long and yes it has you going 80 in a 45.

ᥫ᭡ She won’t tell you this but she loves it when you choke her when she’s about to cum.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

ᥫ᭡ well country! Riri grew up in a pretty small town. Mostly black, yes but southern. She goes into Chicago every once in a while to visit family. When she goes into the city, she’s maybe hooked up with the same types of girls.

ᥫ᭡ So before you, she’s maybe had 3-4 bodies.

ᥫ᭡ She doesn’t really do casual hook-ups and all of them were in committed relationship. So it had been a minute since she had sex once you two started.

ᥫ᭡ HOWEVER, she’s not used to a whole bunch of a sex toys. Like she didn’t know dildos fuckin came double ended till she met you, and she was always the one wearing straps till she met you.

ᥫ᭡ and yes she knows exactly what she’s doing. The first time she had sex which was giving head, she made her girlfriend at the time finish and was so so so confused as to how she did that so fast.

ᥫ᭡ and she’s had enough experience on herself to know exactly how to use her fingers.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ᥫ᭡ 69

ᥫ᭡ Missionary, whether she’s giving or receiving. Either way she’s looking at where the both of you are joined with the most dumbstruck look on her face.

ᥫ᭡ She likes doggy too but prefers it when she’s receiving cause she’s too fucked out to remember the fact that she misses your face.

ᥫ᭡ if you’re able to she WON’T say this but like full Nelson has been in her search bar for far too long.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

ᥫ᭡ it depends. If something funny happens like the strap slips out she’s laughing. Sometimes you can’t take her serious because of her country accent and she gets sooo annoyed (just to join in on the giggling)

ᥫ᭡ But most of the time she’s kinda just staring at you as weird as that sounds. Especially when the two of you are in a position where she can see your face.

Her eyes are all glassy, her abs are clenching and twitching, she can barely breathe.

“You good, baby?” You question while leaning in to kiss her forehead while at the same time trying to line up your clits.

“Uh-huh.” It sounds more like a moan than anything else.

ᥫ᭡ The only time where she’s genuinely focused and locked in is if she’s giving you head or strapping you, she’s a perfectionist at her core.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

ᥫ᭡ She used to shave clean for her sake. She never liked/cared for hair being down there. Weeks had gone by and she had been stressed with the farm, with duties and you guys had bought new animals so she was wiped.

ᥫ᭡ You found her on the couch, half asleep and on her back. You slowly lifted her cotton shirt up and you noticed thicker hair and she woke up half gone.

“Not t’night, mama. Gotta shave.”

Like you gave a fuck. You ran your fingers through the happy trail that’s grown there and gave her the nastiest sloppiest head know to man kind.

ᥫ᭡ Since then, she’s gotten the message that you like the hair there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

ᥫ᭡ It really depends. She’s intimate whether she’s giving or receiving. Most of the time when she’s receiving, she’s looking at you with those big eyes and she can barely think or breathe.

ᥫ᭡ If she’s giving, she’s either a sweetheart and babying you, rubbing your ass, and kissing you all over, whispering sweet shit in that southern country drawl of hers or a menace to society.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ᥫ᭡ She really doesn’t masturbate often because you and her have sex once a regular basis.

ᥫ᭡ HOWEVER, when you drive into the city to be with your homegirls trust that Riri’s getting her fix, probably with one of the rose toys you bought her.

ᥫ᭡ She did not believe they worked till she got one herself and you quite literally found her using it once.

ᥫ᭡ Outside of that, she doesn’t really feel the need to masturbate.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ᥫ᭡ choking kink

ᥫ᭡ marking kink especially when you’re nails are freshly done.

ᥫ᭡ HEAVY praise kink. She likes being degraded too (rather she likes doing it to you) but if it’s too much or too harsh she disassociates a little.

ᥫ᭡ orgasm denial kink, she likes to get edged and do the actual edging.

ᥫ᭡ nipple play and yes its because they’re pierced.

ᥫ᭡ she likes being marked via hickeys or scratches she likes the entire county knowing she’s yours.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ᥫ᭡ The regular, y’all’s bed. Who doesn’t? That’s the default really.

ᥫ᭡ The porch, the two of you always have sex on that damn porch. It’s mostly because there’s two acres of land in front of you.

ᥫ᭡ Her truck, when the two of you are needy especially if it’s been a minute or you need to have a quickie, her car is like a go to location, you end up with cramps but it’s worth it in the end.

ᥫ᭡ the barn. It’s not a go to spot but you’ll find her in there, straddle her and she’s all sweaty and touchy and that’s all it takes.

ᥫ᭡ When you guys go to trail rides or to bars, you both always manage to fuck in some cramped tequila smelling bathroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

ᥫ᭡ seeing you in any flannel. Like any at all. Especially if it’s hers.

ᥫ᭡ She’s so easy like it doesn’t take much. You in any article of clothing especially her hat.

ᥫ᭡ Watching you go off on her, sometimes she sits on the couch, manspread, fiddling with something while you snap off on her, (she’s GRINNING in the inside)

ᥫ᭡ When y’all are cuddling and you’re hand rubs over her abs, she’s not sure what it is but yeah

ᥫ᭡ Especially if you dip your hand and you graze over her happy trail.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

ᥫ᭡ She has RESPECT for her animals. She doesn’t understand how ppl fuck with their animals in the same vicinity and that’s never ever happening with her.

ᥫ᭡ She tried this one time and fucking chickened out. Trying to answer the phone while getting strapped, she did that once and actually almost died from sheer embarrassment.

ᥫ᭡ Anything that involved wildly degrading you or hurting you to the point where you bruise. She ain’t going for allat RESPECTFULLY.

ᥫ᭡ she doesn’t hate this but she can’t role play. Her accent too thick, she can’t pretend to be anyone but herself. The two of you always end up laughing y’all’s assess off.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

ᥫ᭡ she doesn’t have a preference she’ll do either. When she’s receiving; she likes eye contact and she’ll praise the hell outta you. She’s sounds so breathy and whiny it makes you sick.

ᥫ᭡ When she’s giving she’s not super cocky [which she can be ] but she just wants her wife to feel good, to feel taken care of and if that means overstimulating you then by all means necessary she’s getting it done.

ᥫ᭡ The type of head she gives is downright SLOPPY, not gross but it’s def sloppy, her nose bumps into your clit, she’ll sit up and drag your legs onto her shoulder if you start squirming too much.

ᥫ᭡ She’s extremely ENTHUSIASTIC and she’s def come just from eating you out.

okay imma leave so I don’t delete this out of embarrassment…

[mitchesmoon]

My lips js smiled

ok i think this is the edit mari talm bout👅👅👅

@mitchesmoon @mariquitaaa

[mitchesmoon]

I love this

i feel like you would do this so much justice and i know i can't start a new series or fic right now so:

i strongly believe that smoke was tricking for annie in the beginning of their relationship. she probably ain't want him fr or was pretending that she didn't. and he buys her any and everything just to show her that he can take care of her

so i need modern smoke x annie. she a hot girl, real sassy, real cute, real sexy. he’s obsessed with her—as he should be—possessive, protective, allll the thingss

like submissive sugar daddy vibes fr idkk. and she ends up actually wanting him cause he’s so good to her

here you go bookie! <333.

Smoke made it too easy for her.

Annie could bat her lashes once and end up with something new in her closet by the end of the week. Shoes, handbags, perfume, little silk dresses that hugged her curves just right — Smoke was always tricking, always sliding something across the table with that cool, quiet smile like it was nothing. He spoiled her without asking for anything back, like he got more joy out of seeing her happy than she did out of unboxing the gifts.

She played it off, of course. She’d roll her eyes, suck her teeth, act like he was doing too much. “You trying to buy me?” she’d tease, strutting in a pair of red bottoms he’d bought like she hadn’t been dying for them for months.

But he never pushed, never demanded. He just leaned back in his seat, voice warm and steady: “If I wanted to buy you, sweet girl, I’d write the whole damn check. I just like givin’ you what you deserve.” Still, Annie kept her walls up. When Smoke finally asked, over dinner one night, where they stood — what she saw them as — she laughed and shrugged, stirring her drink with the straw.

“We friends,” she said casually, not even looking at him. “That’s all.” Smoke didn’t argue. Didn’t fight. Just sat back with that unreadable look on his face, nodded once, and said, “Alright. Friends.”

But after that, he moved different. Not colder — never that. If anything, he doubled down. He was determined to show her. Every day it was something: showing up to her job with lunch, fixing things in her apartment without her asking, slipping cash into her purse when he thought she wasn’t looking. He made sure her gas tank stayed full, her fridge stayed stocked, her phone bill stayed paid.

And Annie noticed. She noticed how steady he was, how consistent, how he didn’t waver no matter how much she pretended not to care. Every other man she’d dealt with would’ve given up by now, gotten tired of her games. But Smoke kept showing up, kept proving he wanted her, no matter how she labeled it.

Then one night it hit her.

She was curled up in bed in one of the silk robes he’d bought, scrolling her phone, and she realized she missed him. Missed the sound of his voice, the way he made her laugh, the way he looked at her like she was worth every dollar and minute of his time. The gifts didn’t matter as much as the man behind them — and that scared her more than anything.

So when he didn’t text her first that day, she caved. She called. He answered on the second ring, voice low like he’d just woken up. “You good, baby?” Annie bit her lip, rolling onto her stomach, suddenly shy. “Mhm… just wanted to hear from you.”

That made him pause. She could hear it in the silence, the way his breath caught. Then a chuckle, soft and warm, like he’d been waiting on her to fold. “You miss me?” he asked. She sucked her teeth, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe.”

But she did more than miss him. By the end of the week, Annie wasn’t just letting him spoil her—she was curled up against his side on the couch, scrolling TikTok with her head on his chest like she’d always belonged there. She found herself clinging to his arm in public, texting him first in the morning, slipping her hand into his when nobody was watching.

And Smoke? He didn’t say “I told you so.” He just held her tighter, softer, like he’d known all along this was where she’d end up.

they so cuteeeeeee, i love my babiesss. now i do apologize for how short it is. writers block is kicking my ass but i actually enjoyed writing thissss.

[mitchesmoon]

I need to write the fluffiest fic known to man.

[mitchesmoon]

I LOVE THIS ITS SO SMOKE FROM SINNERS COREEE

riri w stanton gf

cuz hardheaded!riri w witch!gf is beyond goals

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 quarts wand and charges it on full moons

- definitely cleanses with sage every sunday

she’s just transformed after spending time with you, trust.

ok thats it i have more vibes than ideas

@mitchesmoon @mrsudakuwilliams99 @riridefender @riris-heart @rheas-ripley @lyfeofbilly

[mitchesmoon]

I LOVE THISSS

Lights, Camera, Chaos | Shuriri Actresses Enemies To Lovers Au

pairing: shuri udaku x riri williams

word count: 4.4k

summary: rising star riri williams and wakandan heiress shuri udaku are cast as leading love interests in hollywood’s highly anticipated black lesbian rom-com. sparks are supposed to fly on screen. instead, the only explosions happen behind the scenes. riri thinks shuri is a stuck-up nepotism baby with a superiority complex. shuri thinks riri is a disrespectful brat with no filter. their chemistry? toxic. their arguments? legendary. their begrudging attraction towards one another? undeniable.

tags: @riris-heart @mitchesmoon @impinkalicious @riridefender @theyna-will-happen

Part 4: Pasta Diplomacy

xii.

The doorbell had already stopped ringing by the time Riri made her way back downstairs. The warm ceramic cup in her hands offered a quiet comfort, the steam from the tea Shuri had brewed curling upward like a ceasefire still unfolding in real time.

As she reached the bottom step, the scent of food hit her — something unmistakably rich and oddly familiar wafting into the hallway. Her stomach stirred. She rounded the corner into the kitchen and found Shuri already at the counter, tall frame tense, her face scrunched in something between disbelief and pure culinary betrayal. She had just pulled a large tupperware out of the brown delivery bag and stared at it as if it personally offended her.

Then came the words. Mumbled, not quite under her breath but sharp as a paper cut:

“That bitch.”

Riri paused mid-step and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Shuri didn’t answer at first. She just turned the container toward her, ripping the lid off with a dramatic flair. Riri stepped closer to the counter on the opposite side and leaned in. Inside sat a large, dense square of pasta, meat, herbs, ricotta, and a suspiciously well-browned top layer.

Lasagna.

Saucy, cheesy, and still warm enough that the plastic had fogged.

Riri lost it.

She exploded into laughter, not even trying to hold back. It was a deep, uncontrolled, full-bodied laugh. The kind that started in her stomach and shot up her chest, loud and infectious, shaking her shoulders as she braced herself against the kitchen island. Her free hand slapped the countertop as she leaned forward, the tea nearly spilling out of the mug as her eyes watered with how hard she was laughing.

“Oh my God,” she wheezed, clutching her side. “Lasagna? Yo, I’m dead. I’m actually dead. Zama’s petty is generational.”

Shuri scowled, looking personally victimized. “It’s not funny! I’m literally having trauma flashbacks.”

That only made Riri laugh harder, clapping her palm over her mouth as she titled her head down slightly, catching her breath.

“Sorry,” she said between giggles, wiping at her eyes. “I’m just—damn, I wasn’t ready for that.”

“That woman is twisted,” Shuri muttered, arms crossed as she glared at the lasagna like it had personally wronged her. “She could’ve sent anything. Stir fry. Roasted chicken. Hell, even soup. But no—she sends lasagna.”

“You’re acting like she sent anthrax.”

“She may as well have,” Shuri snapped, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her. Even she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Zama is evil. Calculating. This is psychological warfare.”

Still doubled over, Riri managed to straighten up long enough to smirk. “She knew exactly what she was doing. Pasta diplomacy.”

Shuri rolled her eyes but let the edges of her annoyance soften. “Diplomacy my ass.”

Riri snorted. “She really said, ‘you know what would fix their little feud? Carbs.’ She ain’t wrong though.”

Finally, Shuri cracked too. It started with a sigh, then a snicker. And finally, the kind of soft, reluctant laugh that betrayed her amusement more than any eye roll could’ve hidden.

Eventually, the laughter faded into comfortable chuckles as they assembled their plates in tandem, shoulders brushing only slightly as they reached for utensils and napkins. They moved in quiet synchronicity, passing things back and forth without needing to speak. Somewhere in the middle of the ordinary choreography, something unspoken settled — acknowledgment. A truce not just in name, but in action.

They each pulled cold bottles of lemonade from the fridge and picked up their plates.

“Dining room?” Riri suggested, nodding her head toward the long, elegant table at the far end of the open-concept kitchen.

But Shuri was already turning on her heel. “Absolutely not.”

Riri blinked. “Why?”

Shuri didn’t even slow down. “If I’m going to eat this cursed meal, I’m doing it as far away from that dining table as possible. If I must relive my trauma, I’ll do it on the sofa.”

That set Riri off again.

“Dramatic as hell,” she laughed as Shuri strode to the living room with exaggerated grace, lasagna in hand like a reluctant queen.

Shuri, already settling herself on the plush gray chaise, tossed a pointed look over her shoulder. “I’m an actress. It’s what we do.”

Still giggling, Riri followed, settling into the armchair closest to the couch. They set their plates down on the low coffee table between them, the quiet clink of ceramic on glass echoing in the small space. For a moment, neither said anything. Aside from the soft hum of the central AC, only the fizz of lemonades being cracked open and the occasional clink of forks against plates filled the air. The silence that followed was surprisingly… calm. For once, it didn’t feel like a minefield. It wasn’t weighed down by buried insults or passive-aggressive glares. It just… was.

Not tense.

Not brittle.

Not loaded.

Just quiet.

Riri took another bite, raising an eyebrow at how good the lasagna actually tasted. She sipped her lemonade and snuck a glance at Shuri, who was clearly trying not to devour the entire meal in five minutes.

“You know,” Riri smirked. “For someone who was trash-talking Zama with her whole chest, you sure are tearing that plate up like it owes you money.”

Shuri paused, chewing slowly. “I am not tearing it up.”

“Are to.”

“Am not.”

“You got sauce on your face.”

“I do not!”

“Corner of your mouth,” Riri said, pointing with smug satisfaction. “Right there.”

Shuri froze, her brow twitching. She grabbed a napkin, dabbing furiously at the corners of her lips, cheeks flushing slightly.

Riri shook her head with a laugh. “Man, I gotta send Zama a thank-you card for this one.”

Shuri narrowed her eyes. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Can you blame me?” Riri shrugged, biting into another forkful. “You’re usually so poised and put together. A little tomato sauce down your chin and suddenly you don’t seem like a princess. You almost seem normal.”

The moment stretched.

Shuri didn’t respond at first. The teasing tone remained in the air, but something underneath it shifted — deeper, softer, honest.

“‘Normal’,” she repeated, her features shifting from playful to something more introspective. “You know, people think that word’s a compliment when they say it to me. Like I should feel honored to be seen as anything other than what I am.”

Riri tilted her head, sensing the weight behind the words. “And… you don’t like that?” she asked, curiosity replacing humor.

Shuri didn’t look up. Her voice was steady, but gentler than before. “It’s not about liking or not liking it. It’s that people only ever try to ‘normalize’ me when it’s convenient for them. When it makes them feel better about their assumptions.“

Riri didn’t interrupt.

Shuri continued, her tone almost clinical now—like she was reading from a script she’d memorized long ago.

“I was raised to be perfect,” she said. “Not just good. Not talented. Perfect. I’ve been performing long before I ever stepped foot in front of a camera. Growing up, I was the dutiful daughter, the child prodigy, the paragon of success. Every step I took was under the scrutiny of elders, advisors, and the weight of tradition. I was expected to represent an entire nation.”

She sighed deeply, the practiced calm in her voice beginning to fade.

“And when I started acting professionally, the stakes changed, but the pressure didn’t ease. It just… expanded. Suddenly, I wasn’t only the face of Wakanda anymore; I had to become the idealized version of everything the world wanted me to be. Another performance of perfection for people who only think they know me—first as a princess for my country, then as a public figure for the world.”

Riri watched her carefully, fork stilled in her hand.

Shuri’s expression tightened.

“I’ve spent my entire life being trained, molded, presented. Everything I do, everything I say, is filtered through a thousand expectations I didn’t ask for. Only now, just on a global scale. Every interview. Every red carpet. Every fucking Instagram post has to be flawless. I don’t even know if I’ve ever said something that wasn’t first run through five filters in my head before it came out.”

She finally glanced up, and her eyes met Riri’s.

“There’s not much room in all of that for mistakes — or for figuring out who you are without labels attached. People look at me and see royalty. The activist. The intellect. The brand. And I’ve learned how to be all of those things. But the person underneath?” Her voice faltered just slightly. “Most days, I’m not even sure who that is anymore. Somewhere along the way, I think I forgot who I am when I’m not being everything for everyone else.“

She looked back down at her plate, the dull edge in her tone replaced by something more raw.

“Sometimes, I don’t even feel like a person. Just a name. A résumé. A carefully arranged… decoration.”

The revelation didn’t come with dramatics or tears. It was quiet. Steady. Unapologetic in its vulnerability. And it hit Riri harder than she expected.

She had always seen Shuri as untouchable. Sharp. Polished. A diamond carved by privilege and advantage. She’d never once stopped to consider what might lie beneath Shuri’s veneer of perfection. But now, looking at her like this — unguarded, with sauce on her lips and sorrow in her eyes — Riri saw the cracks. Not flaws. Not weaknesses.

Humanity.

“Everyone thinks I’m some spoiled, soft-handed princess with everything laid out for her. Like I’ve never struggled. Like I’ve just been coasting through life problem-free on a crown and movie deals. Even you said it to my face.”

Riri felt something in her chest twist. Shuri spoke without bite, but her words landed with weight. The kind that stuck.

“And maybe it’s easier to see me that way. But I’ve worked for everything I have. And just because it doesn’t look like your version of struggle doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

Riri’s jaw tightened a little.

Shuri shifted again, her posture still straight but just a little less fortified now. “So when someone walks in and tells me my life is easy, or that I’ve had everything handed to me… it doesn’t roll off the way you might think.”

It wasn’t an accusation. Not really.

But Riri heard it for what it was.

A boundary that had been crossed. A wound that hadn’t been acknowledged until now.

Her throat went a little dry. She swallowed and looked down at her hands, jaw working as the guilt crept in quietly. She remembered every time she’d thrown Shuri’s title in her face, every jab about being born with silver spoons and custom gowns and world-class everything.

She thought Shuri had shrugged it off.

But now she wasn’t so sure.

“I didn’t know it landed like that,” Riri said finally, voice low. “I just thought you didn’t care.”

Shuri gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of her head. “I’ve just learned not to show it.”

That’s what did it.

Not a dramatic confession. Not a raised voice. Just that simple, quiet line.

And suddenly, Riri realized then just how often Shuri had probably been hurt in silence. Exploited. Misread. Diminished. And how many times her own words had likely contributed to that hurt.

Her whole image of Shuri — confident, graceful, composed to the point of coldness — had cracked open like glass under pressure. She’d spent so long assuming Shuri’s aloofness stemmed from arrogance. But maybe all this time, it really stemmed from survival.

“I’m sorry,” Riri said, and she meant it. “I guess I just assumed… you had it all figured out. That everything came easy for you.”

Shuri gave a humorless laugh, not quite meeting her eyes. “You and everyone else.”

A small pause hung between them before Riri let out a low, almost self-conscious chuckle.

“You know what’s funny?” she asked, tapping her fork against the rim of her plate as if stalling.

Shuri’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Not ‘ha-ha’ funny,” Riri clarified, lifting one palm in mock defense. “More like… ironic.”

Shuri tilted her head with quiet curiosity, her voice cool but laced with interest. “What’s that, Williams?”

Riri’s shoulders rose in a slow shrug, her eyes flicking back to Shuri’s face before darting away again. “Believe it or not… I actually sorta looked up to you. Still do, I guess.”

That earned her a subtle but telling reaction — Shuri’s brows lifted just a fraction, a small flicker of surprise passing over her otherwise composed features. She didn’t speak right away, which only made Riri notice the shift more.

Riri huffed a soft laugh, the corner of her mouth tugging upward in a crooked half-smile. “Yeah, yeah, I know—hard to believe. Even harder to admit out loud. But it’s true.”

Shuri glanced down at her plate, lips curving into the faintest smirk as she nudged the edge of her lasagna with her fork.

“I assume you mean that literally,” she said, a mischievous spark in her eyes as she looked back up. “When you’re in your twenties and barely pushing 4’11, you’ll be looking up to people for the rest of your life.”

Riri’s mouth fell open in mock offense, a smile breaking through before she could stop it. “Bitch! I’ll have you know I’m almost 5’1.”

Shuri’s laugh was quick and low, followed by a sharper glint in her eye as she leaned in just enough to twist the knife. “Ah, so that’s with shoes, then.”

Riri let out an outraged laugh, snatching one of her crumpled sauce-stained napkins off the table. She balled it up in her fist and lobbed it at Shuri’s head.

Shuri jerked sideways at the last second, the napkin sailing just past her ear and landing somewhere behind the couch. She laughed, part amused, part disgusted. “Ew! Keep your greasy projectiles on your side of the table.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t throw the whole plate at you and give us a sequel to yesterday!” Riri shot back, her grin widening. “Lasagna: 2, Shuri: 0.”

Shuri pulled a face and flipped her off, which sent both women into another round of laughter. The sound lingered between them until it finally tapered off into a softer, easier quiet.

Riri reached for her bottle of lemonade again, taking a sip before setting it down with a quiet clink. Then she added—pointing a sharp finger across the table, “And don’t get it twisted. This doesn’t mean you haven’t been a complete pain in my ass the last two months.”

In response, Shuri closed her eyes, scrunched her nose, and gave a tight-lipped mocking smile that was all dimples. It was pure theatrics and faux sweetness, but there was something disarming in it that Riri—against her better judgment—couldn’t help but find kinda cute.

“But,” she went on, leaning back in the armchair. “Even when you were working my nerves to the damn bone, that didn’t stop me from admiring you.”

Shuri’s lips parted slightly as though she might respond, but ultimately stayed silent, though the faint spark of amusement still lingered in her eyes. She kept her gaze on Riri, still and watchful, as if weighing how much to believe.

“I mean, it’s kinda hard not to,” Riri continued. “You walk into a room and people respect you. You don’t have to fight for space. You just exist, and everyone falls in line. You’ve got this… presence. Like you don’t have to prove anything to anybody.”

Shuri let out a dry breath. “That’s not presence. That’s protocol. People respect the title, not the girl behind it.”

Riri tilted her head. “Nah. That’s not true.”

Shuri looked at her again, skeptical.

“I mean, I used to think it was,” Riri shrugged. “That all you had going for you was the crown. But you’re a lot more than I gave you credit for—wanted to give you credit for. The way you carry yourself? The way people listen when you speak? The aura? That’s you. Not some royal birthright.”

The words were spoken casually, like an offhand comment. But the weight of them hit Shuri somewhere deep. Somewhere she didn’t realize was starving for that kind of recognition.

Riri didn’t linger on it. She looked down at the brace on her wrist, her voice quieter.

“You weren’t entirely wrong about me,” she said. “I am brash. And loud. And I talk too much.”

Shuri smirked faintly. “You said it, not me.”

Riri rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched just slightly.

“For me, it’s the only way I’ve ever gotten anyone to pay attention.” she continued, more serious now. “I grew up in a society that doesn’t always hear girls like me. Being quiet in my world? That meant being ignored. That meant getting left behind. So I made noise. I got louder. Sharper. That way no one could ever walk all over me without feeling it.”

She swallowed, voice dropping. “So yeah, I built an ego. Made it loud enough to fill the whole damn room. Because if I don’t act like I own the space, people automatically assume I don’t belong in it. Figured if I made it big enough, maybe I’d believe I belong in it too.”

Shuri’s gaze was steady. “And do you?”

Riri hesitated. “Some days.”

There was a pause.

“Other days? I wonder what it’d feel like to just… not need it.” Riri confessed. “Sometimes I wish I could figure out who I am without all the noise. Without always having to yell to be heard.”

Shuri exhaled slowly. “Sometimes I wish I could figure out who I am without having to be perfect all the time.”

Their eyes met.

The silence hung between them again — shared understanding and recognition of the masks they wore, the armor they’d built.

Two women — so different in background, in manner, in how they moved through the world — but suddenly not so different at all.

They’d judged each other harshly. Held grudges born of assumptions. Thrown words like grenades because it was easier than asking questions.

And yet here they are.

The gap between them didn’t feel so wide anymore.

Then—in a move that surprised even herself—Riri leaned forward, slid her plate gently across the table, and rose from the armchair. Without a word, she stood and moved to the couch. She didn’t look at Shuri as she sat down beside her—close, but not invasive.

Shuri stiffened instinctively at first, but then, to her own surprise, she relaxed. Something in her softened as Riri settled beside her. The warmth of another body nearby, once threatening, now felt… grounding. She let herself breathe into it.

They returned to their food, eating quietly. The silence between them felt cozier now. Safer. There was something different in the air — something warm and fragile.

Shuri bit into another forkful of lasagna. Another quiet moment of comfort passed.

Then Riri glanced over and grinned. “Yo. You got sauce again.”

Shuri groaned, dramatically setting down her fork. “Why is this my life?”

She raised a hand to her mouth, a faint flush blooming on her cheeks.

“Same spot,” Riri said, amused.

Shuri dabbed furiously with her napkin.

“Nope. Still there.”

“Where?”

“Relax, princess,” Riri sighed, tone teasing but gentle. “Just hold still.”

Shuri turned instinctively to face her — and before either of them could second-guess it, Riri leaned in. Her thumb brushed gently against the corner of Shuri’s mouth, swiping the sauce away with a casual touch that somehow felt anything but casual.

Shuri’s breath caught slightly.

Riri pulled back, wiping her thumb on her napkin with a little smirk. “You’re good.”

Their eyes met. And for a beat too long, they didn’t look away.

Both girls laughed softly, but something had shifted again. The warmth behind their amused smiles lingered, their faces just a little closer than they needed to be.

Eventually, they went back to eating again. Riri leaned back slightly, resuming her meal. Shuri did the same, but her mind lingered on the gesture.

On the care in Riri’s touch. The quiet intimacy of it.

Every now and then, their shoulders brushed, more naturally. They didn’t say anything else for a while. They didn’t have to. Both could feel it — that subtle undercurrent pulling them toward something they hadn’t allowed themselves to imagine before.

There was something electric in the stillness. Not overwhelming. Not pushy.

Just a quiet awareness of closeness.

Of possibility.

xiii.

The plates were empty now, pushed to one side of the coffee table, a couple of crumpled napkins tossed on top. The lemonade bottles stood half-drained, catching the faint amber light coming through the wide safe house windows. Outside, the hills of Topanga Canyon stretched in lazy shadows. Inside, the air felt settled, if not a little too quiet.

For the past thirty minutes, Shuri and Riri sat side by side on the couch, shoulders angled toward the TV, flipping through every channel the satellite had to offer. Which turned out to be… not much.

“Nope,” Riri muttered as she clicked past an infomercial for a questionable blender. “Next.”

Shuri leaned her head against the back cushion, letting out a faint sigh. “You have scrolled through all of these twice.”

“And they’ve all been equally garbage both times,” Riri said, thumb still idly working the remote like it might suddenly land on something worth watching.

Shuri glanced at the small digital clock on the cable menu: 5:07 p.m. “We could read.”

Riri side-eyed her. “We could not.”

A few more minutes passed in stubborn, silent flipping. Eventually, Riri let the channel rest on a muted cooking competition before she pressed the power button, shutting the screen off entirely. The sudden absence of light and background noise made the room feel bigger.

“Well,” Riri sighed, tossing the remote onto the couch cushion beside her. “That was riveting.”

Shuri leaned forward slightly, eyeing her sleek hardcover book still sitting neatly on the coffee table from earlier. Her fingers reached out.

But they didn’t make it.

A warm hand gently closed around her wrist, stopping her before she could touch it.

The contact was light, but it startled her all the same — a brief, electric jolt skittering across her nerves. Shuri turned her head quickly, finding Riri’s eyes already on her, the younger woman’s expression equal parts casual and insistent as she shook her head.

“There is no way,” Riri deadpanned, “that you’re spending the rest of our evening in this James Bond–ass mansion with your nose in a book.”

The hand on her wrist loosened, slipping away, but the ghost of the touch lingered. Shuri masked the flicker in her chest with a raised eyebrow. “And what exactly do you propose instead?”

Riri leaned back, scanning the vast expanse of the open-concept living area like she was assessing a mission. Her eyes darted over the kitchen, the large dining table, the modern art on the walls… and then stopped.

A slow, mischievous smile curved her mouth.

Shuri followed her line of sight — to the glossy walnut bar cart tucked against the far wall.

“Oh no,” Shuri murmured under her breath, already anticipating trouble.

“Oh yes,” Riri countered, already on her feet. She crossed the room in a few long strides, her sneakers silent against the hardwood. In moments, she was back, balancing a bottle of amber-colored tequila in one hand and two clear shot glasses in the other.

Shuri watched the display with mild amusement as Riri set down both glasses and the bottle on the coffee table like she was dealing out cards. “How about a game?”

“What do you suggest?” Shuri asked, voice dipped in challenge.

“Truth or dare,” Riri replied simply.

Shuri crossed her arms with an unimpressed huff. “Ah, yes. The pinnacle of American culture—humiliation disguised as entertainment.”

“What’s the matter, princess? Scared?” Riri leaned a little on the arm of the couch, the tease slipping effortlessly into her tone.

Shuri’s chin lifted in mock offense. “No. I’d simply prefer spending my time doing something innovative rather than playing games meant for juvenile teenagers. What’s next? Spin the Bottle?”

Riri’s grin widened — wicked now. “Okay, your highness. Then let’s make it more adult.”

She unscrewed the bottle cap, the sharp scent of tequila curling into the air, and began pouring a modest measure into each glass. “Here’s the deal: you don’t answer a question, you take a shot. And remove a piece of clothing.”

Shuri actually laughed, rising from the couch with amused exasperation. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” Riri said, standing up straighter to meet her eye to eye. She echoed Zama’s instructions to them earlier that day, “‘You talk. You listen. You figure it out.’ Boss’s orders.”

Shuri chuckled, tilting her head. “I don’t think racy drinking games is what Zama had in mind.”

“Maybe not.” Riri’s gaze softened, even through her smirk. “If you really don’t wanna play, I’ll let you go back to your book.”

There was no bite in her tone. It was an honest out.

“But who knows,” she added, her voice dipping into something lighter, almost playful, “maybe we’ll finally figure each other out.”

It was casual, almost throwaway, but the weight of the statement hung there for a second. Neither acknowledged the shift, though they both felt the quiet pull in it — the words landing somewhere between a joke and something neither of them were ready to name. Shuri’s eyes held hers a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering there, before she finally eased back down onto the sofa.

“Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll play.”

Riri’s smirk broke wide and victorious as she dropped back down onto the couch beside her, close enough for their knees to brush.

Shuri shifted, settling deeper into the cushions, one leg crossing over the other with unhurried grace. She turned her head toward Riri, a faint, knowing smile playing at her lips. “On one condition.”

Riri’s brow lifted, curious. “What’s that?”

The curve of Shuri’s lips deepened, slow and deliberate, a flicker of challenge lighting her eyes. “If I end up naked and drunk, do you promise to behave like a lady?”

For half a second, Riri forgot how to breathe.

Then she covered it with a crooked grin, leaning back just enough to look unbothered. “Don’t worry, princess,” she drawled, sliding one of the shot glasses across the table toward her. “I’ll go easy on you.”

A beat passed, and her smirk sharpened ever so slightly.

“The first few rounds.”

[mitchesmoon]

YUP YUP

MASTERLIST

shuriri

lights, camera, chaos | part 1

lights, camera, chaos | part 2

lights, camera, chaos | part 3

lights, camera, chaos | part 4

the night riri williams died

riri williams

all that we didn’t say

cruel summer | part 1

cruel summer | part 2

[mitchesmoon]

TEAAAAAAA

welcome back, riri pt. 1

🏷️: @mariquitaaa @mitchesmoon

summary: you and riri were close as children but grew apart as life got hard. she came back from the expulsion from mit but didn’t know she was coming back to have a new crush.

a/n: this is my first ririxreader fic!! this will be a 2 or 3 part series! i had this one sitting in my drafts for a bit so.. nd this is based on the first episode!! (next two parts won’t be based on episode 2&3 since this is)

you and riri were never really friends. in your childhood days, it would be you, xavier, natalie, and riri.

yall would hangout everyday because yall went to the same school together as kids and play in the park. but, since riri became a child prodigy and natalie had passed away; you guys definitely separated and never really talked since but xavier and riri still talked and sometimes you and xavier would too.

but then you came back home from a walk and heard riris mother talking saying “riri got expelled” you mumbled under your breath “she always doin something.” and chuckled.

the next day, she arrived home with her broken up suit, came in and greeted her mother and friends and xavier came in and saved her from the awkward moments. it is now 8:00 and they walked and caught up with each other other on what was going on.

meanwhile, you were at the gas station getting snacks for a movie you were about to watch at home. riri and xavier were walking and taking and he gave her a walkman with a music tape on it for her to listen to and you were walking back home with your wired headphones in and your snacks in a bag. both of you not paying attention and walking towards each other and then-

bump!

riri bumped into you and made you drop your snacks and drop her walkman and you blurted “oh shit! i’m so sorry, i wasn’t-“ as you’re picking up her walkman and then riri cut you off saying nervously “nah nah i’m sorry i wasn’t paying attenti..” then she lost her words when she looked up at you as shes picking up your snacks and putting them back in the bag.

she basically was lost in your beauty. you were taller than her and had on these sweatpants that basically hugged your waist and thick thighs and a crop top with a black jacket on with your glasses and your curly hair flowing and phone in your pocket with wired headphones connected.

she snapped back into reality and continued helping you picking up your snacks.

“i-im sorry! what was your name?” riri said. “y/n.” she heard that name and instantly remembered who you were. “we were childhood friends right?” she said. you were surprised she even remembered. “yeah, we were. surprised you remember me, child prodigy.” as you left out a chuckle.

riri was looking at you up and down and admiring your features and she just wanted to catch up with you too. “i heard you got kicked out of mit” as you commented with a smirk on your face. riri chuckled. “i do have to go but welcome back, riri.” you said as you were picking up your bag but as you were walking away she quickly grabbed your wrist and said “uh..can i get your number or something?” she blurted out. your cheeks immediately felt hot when you felt her touch. you replied, “ask xavier, im sure he still got it.” with a smile on your face as you move her hand off your wrist and walked away and went inside your apartment two doors away from riri’s. when riri got inside and went in the house and her room, you were all she could think about.

a/n: i love this and i hope yall enjoy it too🥹🥹

[mitchesmoon]

guys I wanna write a fic gimme requests pls

[ill write anything i js need a good idea]

[mitchesmoon]

hey mey how r u queen i feel like i havent talked to u in 4ever

HI MY BEAUTIFUL SHAYLAAA and ik I’ve been so busy

HOW ARE YEWWW

[mitchesmoon]

mama!riri headcanons

a/n: so basically I made these on my last account and this is a revamped version thank you!

Divider from @kodaswrld

🧸🏷️~ @pvnks0ul @mariquitaaa @ohyouluckysaint @enaspaces @idyllicbby @shuririsecretl0v3r @diouna @riris-heart @naomis-daydream @mrsudakuwilliams99 @lyfeofbilly @criaaturaa @riridefender

ᰔᩚ she’s so protective, so so protective. If her baby’s pouting, she’s asking what’s wrong. If her baby’s sad, she’s fixing it IMMEDIATELY.

ᰔᩚ oh she hates taking her baby to the doctors to get shots because she’s sobbing WITH her :(

ᰔᩚ they have the same baby doe eyes it’s so cute.

ᰔᩚ she’s the type of mom to always have her baby on her hip.

ᰔ ᩚabsolutely whipped for her baby and would do anything for her baby. If you ban something and her baby asks she’s folding.

“yeah, you can have some more chocolate, just don’t tell y’mama okay?”

“we can go to the ice cream truck, just us…later, when mama’s workin’,”

ᰔ ᩚ actually panics and leaves missions early if her baby needs her.

ᰔ ᩚ like i said D1 Yes woman to her baby girl (because ofc yall have a daughter)

ᰔ ᩚ does her hair and feels horrible if her baby complains about being tender headed.

ᰔ ᩚ they’re both lowkey the same person different font.

ᰔ ᩚ you always have to play bad cop bc Riri doesn’t have the balls to do it.

“Just tell her she’s gotta be in time out.”

“Why can’t you do it tho?”

“Riri…”

“Fine,”

ᰔ ᩚ she proceeds to try to be firm and feels HORRIBLE afterward.

ᰔ ᩚ she peppers kisses all over her baby’s face and blows raspberries on her neck and tummy

ᰔ ᩚ tries to teach y’all’s infant about motors and tech. Mind you she can’t talk yet.

ᰔ ᩚ oh she’s so protective but also anxious. When your daughter was first born, Riri checked on her all day and night especially at night to make sure she slept through the night.

ᰔ ᩚ lets her baby sleep in y’all’s bed at night.

ᰔ ᩚ tucks the baby in even if she’s in her suit and always makes it in time to read her bedtime stories.

ᰔ ᩚ she never cusses front of the baby or at least tries not to it’s an adjustment.

[mitchesmoon]

if I make an MCU SMAU series who should I add lmk! 😛

[mitchesmoon]

!!!

Riri wearing Ralph Lauren 🧸💙.

[mitchesmoon]

😛 I’m so exciteddddd

Meet the Crew

These are my original characters for Killswitch! I've spent so much time brainstorming about them and im sooooooooo excited to finally share them with you! I love this lil found family that I created and I hope you do too. Now, these are my characters that I designed and drew myself! So please do not share them anywhere without crediting me, thank you!

🏷️: @bubbleblowinggirl @blkgworlamplified @solanaszn @pvnks0ul @onyxstones-world @inmyheadimobsessed @mitchesmoon @riris-heart @shurisbathwater @lvmxih @rheas-ripley @mrsudakuwilliams99

Kayla

21

likes: exercise, sarcasm, piercings, alone time

superpower: super-strength

Kayla is very......bitchy, BUT that's my baby so not too much. She's very standoff-ish at first, but I promise she's really a softy when she warms up to you. Even though she has superhuman strength, pumping iron isn't all that she likes to do. Did yall know she can play the clarinet? She has a very bad habit of playing with her lip piercing. It drives LJ crazy because he hates the sound of it scraping against her teeth.

...

Eva

20

likes: animals, makeup, annoying kayla

superpower: telekinesis

Eva is the textbook definition of cinnamon roll. Like, the girl couldn't hurt a fly. A stray animal hates to see her coming. Kayla's allergic to cats so she can't bring em inside, but there is a whole army of them that wander in the yard because she won't stop feeding them. She hates when you ask her to help patch someone up because she can't stand the sight of blood. She will quite literally throw up. Whenever Kayla needs her hair rebraided, Eva always does it. there's never a hair out of place when she touches someone's head.

...

LJ

22

likes: photography, fashion, smoking

superpower: super speed

Big brothers don't got SHIT on LJ. Although he is very loving and caring, he is strict as hell. Every fight or mission ya'll go on, I promise you he's gone over the plan a thousand times. Being the only man in the house, he gets overstimulated with the three of yall quite often. If someone isn't in the shower for hours at a time, yall are in his room annoying him and touching shit. he won't admit it, but he would'nt have it any other way. He absolutely HATES when someone brings up his arm or stares at it. Most times he'll wear a longsleeve to cover it. After losing it, he was so excited when you made his bionic limb.

[mitchesmoon]

taglist -

inspo from my MOOT @ohyouluckysaint

☀️ - riri williams

🌑 - shuri udaku

💫 - tashi duncan

⭐️ - art donaldson

🌠 - smoke/stack [sinners]

✨ - annie [sinners]

☄️- toji fushiguro

🌙 - onyankopon

[mitchesmoon]

THIS IS TEAAA FOR MEEE

auction pt.1

“i know i’m trouble, know ur way around so just stay around”

when riri returns from MIT and gets introduced to the crew —your crew, all your worst fears are more likely to come to life than ever before. riri’s return, her getting hurt, you being stuck in the crew forever; its all too much. every escape plan you create keeps failing, or is it being sabotaged? the death of your best friend has found a way to haunt you again, and one crew member is constantly on your tail about secrets you don’t have. but even through all the chaos, you can’t stop running back to riri, and she’ll always fall into your arms.

a/n: this is gonna be a long series and im SO EXCITED FRIENDS. this is abt 2.5k words and written in (semi) chronological order. theres some flashbacks. lesbian. riri williams x black!fem!reader. everyone is an adult. tension. mentions of death (natalie and gary). john being an instigator. tension. tiny bit of angst. comment to join taglist. tension. this part sets up a lot for the rest of the story so theres not a TONN of action but yur

"Damn, she's good." Slug smiles, popping a kernel in their mouth.

"Duct tape. She’s totally gonna use it." You look at Roz, who obviously doesn't know the girl on the screen; the girl you haven't expected to see for the rest of your life.

"Nah," The word escapes your lips as a whisper, as words you debated to say aloud. "She's probably gonna use the wires to start the elevator back up." A slurp erupts from your cup as you take a swig of your drink. "She doesn’t mess with bombs like that.” You shift uncomfortably, arms crossed and a finger tapping on your cup.

John's eyes bore into you. He watches your every movement: your eyes lying stuck on the screen, your fast breaths, your hands dropping to rub against your pants and rid of sweat.

You were the calmest person on the team. A level-headed logician, you planned missions with ease. You knew a way in and a way out. You knew people's strengths and their weaknesses. John considered you an equal – he sometimes considered you more intelligent than him. The hell is your reaction to Riri?

"What, do you know her or something?" John's gaze refuses to break from you. He questions and expects you to answer honestly.

Your body contorts. By lifting your once-leaning hips, you try to shake the discomfort storming through your chest. You stood tall, arms stiffened across your chest. The computer was no longer in your eye view. Instead, your gaze locked with his.

"Not anymore." You grabbed your now-empty cup and raced past him to throw away your drink. John's brows furrowed.

John’s eyes followed you."This girl and her weird ass riddles.”

…

Tense. Your body was tense. Every time you moved. You felt like you were pulling 1000 pounds with each limb. What was she gonna do when she saw you? Would you drive her away more? Maybe she should be driven away. Parker's commune wasn’t a place for Riri. She’s many things, but not a criminal. Soft-hearted, curious, ambitious; too ambitious. Parker would abuse her genius and therefore make her more curious. A combination like that makes for a shitty end result.

Your foot is already halfway out the door with no sign of looking back. You had been planning to leave the crew for months now. Silently. With haste. With ease. There was no other way to plan an exit. Past members came and went never to be heard from again. You hoped to keep your life, to escape the wrath of Parker’s hood. But with Riri back? Fuck, plans have changed. She needed protection and guidance. Someone had to be the one to do it.

Applause erupts from the other side of the room. Shit. A part of you was hoping Riri wouldn’t make it out of that elevator. Maybe then you’d still have a reason to fight, to seek revenge. Maybe then you’d have a reason to see the woman who raised you. But now you’d have to face Riri. And god knows what she’d have to say.

The metal of the elevator door creaks as Riri emerges through. And you see her. Damn, it’s really her. All the memories come rushing back. The days you spent braiding her hair, the sleepovers you held each other a little too close, the promise you made the last time you saw her:

“No matter what happens or who we become, it’s only us.” You tightened your pinky around hers. If only she knew the lengths you’d have to take. Would it still be “us”?

Riri’s hand cups your chin, bringing your eyes to meet hers. “You know I love you,” The words rung heavier than they should’ve. You guys said ‘I love you’ all the time. Why did it feel different now? “right?”

Your gaze flickered down to her lips. You wanted to stay like this forever. In her arms, loved by her, under her gaze. “I love you too, more actually.” But you knew it would never last. And it didn’t.

She was supposed to be at MIT right now. You were supposed to be at NCAT. You both have truths to confess to.

All your body allows you to do is sigh in anticipation. Your legs eventually take control, slowly inching over to the table to stand with the rest of the crew. The wooden desk croaks under your body as you lean on its stature, and you wait.

“I heard Riri Williams was a genius,” Parker claps. You look down at your feet, inspecting the floor below you. Riri looks at the team of people in front of her once over, then twice. She sees you but doesn’t know if it is you. “but I said to myself… I gotta meet this kid up close.”

She isn’t allowed to decipher the contents of your face, its orgins, its ancestry before her impulsiveness pulls at her heartstrings. Immediately, Riri erupts, “What makes you think you think you can trap me-”. She knows. You know she knows.

“Please,” Parker insists, “it wasn’t personal.” Your face slips her mind for a moment. It was all too much. She doesn’t wanna be here; she shouldn’t be here. Riri’s face contorts. What the fuck is he talking about? He continues, “Does it matter why I did what I did? What matters is you did what you did. You beat Stuart’s time.”

Stuart's lips pull into a line. He shyly raises his hand and confesses,“Present”

Overwhelmed with everything, everyone, all at once, you panic. “Fuck.” The words slip louder than you expected. “Can we just get this over with?” Riri’s gaze locks on you. Your voice alone was enough confirmation. Panic flooded her irises. She froze. There was nothing else to do but freeze the same way you froze when you saw her on the monitor.

“Nah,” she mutters, her voice riddled with denial. Your eyes stay locked in each other for longer than you’d like to admit. Silence filled the room, but what was there to say?

Riri’s eyes scanned your body. You looked different. Different in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. Different in a way that made her heart skip five beats per minute. Different in a way that made her hands drip with sweat. You had gotten piercings since senior year of highschool. Her bare face felt naked looking at yours. Your afro decorated your shoulders and chest. It had grown. A lot. Maybe she needed to invest in some of that hair growth serum you were always talking about.

You scanned Riri’s body. She was always fit but damn, was she this fit? Her biceps and abs stuck out to you and just you apparently. Riri wasn’t one for cardio but she was one for working in the garage. You could tell she’s been spending more time there — for the better or worse. Her cornrows enhanced her bone structure in a way they hadn’t before. Or maybe she’d just gotten more mature, so her face naturally looked like that. Regardless, maybe you needed to get some cornrows to snatch you up a bit. Your eyes traveled back down to her abs. Maybe you needed a cardio routine too.

She shouldn’t be here. As if being trapped in a bomb laced elevator was enough, she shouldn’t be here.

“I’m out.” She proclaims with an exasperated sigh. She walks towards a door, yanking on its knob.

“That’s a closet.” John warned, scratching his head. He walked toward Riri and guided her to a door.

“I knew that!”

…

10pm struck the clock. Water soaked your body. Droplets fell down your back and caressed your shoulders. Even under this hot ass shower, your body couldn’t relax. It couldn’t let go of earlier. It couldn’t let go of Riri.

When she looked at you, all the air left your body. It was like you never left, like she never went to mit, as if you guys never stopped talking. You never meant for it to be this way, for you to be this way.

It was once you, Riri, and Natalie; the three musketeers. Since childhood you guys were neighbors and best friends. Every day was spent at Riri’s house or in her dad’s garage. So when you came back from a corner store run to find your best friend and the man who treated you like his own in a pool of their own blood and Riri crying over them, helpless, something in your brain’s hardwire changed.

After Nat, you couldn’t bear to see Riri’s pain. You couldn’t bear to see her cry, her grief. Sure, for you it hurt but for Ri? She never seemed to process it all.

All you wanted to do was avenge Natalie. It wouldn’t fix a thing, you knew that. Revenge would never change Riri’s tears but it would give her clarity, right?

The journey to revenge drove you insane. Wild goose chases, dead ends. Eventually you found the identity of the shooter. But what could you do? Turn them in? When you handed over evidence the fuckers only got 5 years in jail. The hole in your heart as well as the grief Riri constantly endured somehow grew larger.

The case closed two years ago, the same day you turned 18. You needed a job. Clown was a friend of a friend. She specialized in explosives and you knew strategy, management, and law. She said she knew a guy. So you ended up here. Parker said he was beginning a start up company and he needed a manager and some tech guys to compare to the competition. You vastly underestimated what he meant. Obviously.

…

After John guided Riri to a door you assumed she left. She didn’t. You were packing up your stuff when you saw him talking to her in that big ass not so secret glass room he calls an office.

Did she take the deal? What has she gotten herself into? Parker really flashed a wad of cash and she came like a mouse to a cheese trap.

The light from the TV reflects on your wooden floor, changing colors every few seconds from you changing channels. Sounds fill your ears, quieting your thoughts but not your mind. You couldn’t shake the anxiety that riddled your body.

Riri being home in the middle of the school year means one of two things: she dropped out, or she got expelled. Knowing her, both are equally possible, but it’s most likely the latter since she’d never willingly miss out on MIT’s resources. So if she got expelled, the real question is: what the fuck did she do?

And her energy, her face, her body. It wasn’t just you that had changed, that had grown. When Riri saw you it was as if she saw a thousand worlds collide. Your thousand worlds came together at that moment too. Lost possibilities, tear stained prayers meshed into one singular moment. Just to see her. A changed Riri, a Riri without you.

You couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every thought was her.

You bring your hand to your face, rubbing your forehead and temples to wake yourself up. “Fuck, should I just go see her?” A sigh leaves your chest, “I don’t even know where she’s at,”

…

You knew where she was at. There was only one place she could be. You walk up the pavement and see the steps you haven’t seen in years just to open the door to the complex, walk up some more steps, and see the door to the apartment you haven’t seen in years. This isn’t a good idea. Nothing about this is a good idea. Riri being in the crew, you being here. Its not a good idea.

John is already on your ass. He knows. “No prior outside connections” your ass. He didn’t do his job correctly. Anyone with a Facebook and 3 minutes of free time can see we know each other. Ms.Williams has you plastered all over her page. But John won’t like this. He will do whatever it takes to stop it.

..

You couldn’t do it. Blood pooled at your feet and your whole body pulsed, nearly making a heartbeat of its own. Your hand hadn’t even touched the handle and you were chickening out. You just couldn’t.

You snuck around the back patio. It had only gotten easier since you guys were younger; sneaking around. Oddly, it felt like old times. Like when riri made you sneak into her room so you guys could be together. Or when you, natalie, and ri snuck back in the apartment when you were all supposed to be sleeping. You snuck into Riri’s apartment so much that it became a habit, it became home.

The house appeared empty when you looked through the glass door. But if everyone’s sleep, why are all the lights on?

BANG!

“Shit! Sorry, Mom!”

You look through the door again to see Riri dragging her ironsuit through her kitchen. You bite back a smile and stepped a few inches backward. Back facing the wall, you fall, body sliding down the brick and arms resting on your knees.

All these years and she’s still working on that ironsuit.

Cicadas serenade you for a while. After all these years you never realized how pretty the view was from this patio; how you can see into the chi at night.

“I see you still haven’t shaken the habit of sneaking places you ain’t supposed to be, huh?” Her voice is gentle, almost hum-like. You look up. Leaning against the doorway, Riri’s sweatshirt sleeves are rolled up and hair is tied back.

Wrinkles appear between your brows when you furrow them and cross your arms. A grin sneaks on your lips; you’re really with her. “I see you still haven’t shaken the habit of getting into trouble you don’t need to be in.. huh?” Your voice was low. Riri noticed the drop. You slowly rose to meet her gaze. She inhaled sharply, looking you up and down. Not only did she forget how tall you were, but the white shirt you wore was loose. It hung off your shoulder and exposed your stomach. The sweatpants you wore hung low on your hips, your tattoos and boxers peaking through.

She straightens her back, attempting to stand as tall as you. After clearing her throat, she begins, “Did seeking revenge mean you lost all your clothes?” She looks you up and down once more, raising her hand to pull at the hem of your shirt. The air seemed to leave your body, eyes snapping to the girl in front of you. “You broke or somethin'?” Her eyes finally met yours again. She didn’t know why, but her volume got lower and lower as she continued talking.

A pause followed her words but neither of you seemed to notice, you were too caught up in the girl in front of you. It was only when you began to speak when you realized how little space was in between you and Riri, how she was looking up at you expecting an answer, how your neck was craned downward not wanting to look away from her doe-like eyes.

It was all to much, the racing hearts, the heat radiating off each other's body, the knowing you weren’t supposed to be here but wanting more.

You pull back with a grin returning to your face, only in an effort to forget your nerves - “You know I look good.” You pushed past Riri and walked into the house, the place you used to call home. Her head peeked over her shoulder, watching you as you stroll into her home like it’s your own, as if you never left.

“Yea, alright.” Riri pulled the glass door closed and followed behind you. It’s gonna be a long night.

ok hi so i hope u enjoyed lmao. pt2 coming out in the next week or so hopefully

@mitchesmoon @mrsudakuwilliams99 @riridefender @rheas-ripley @riris-heart