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soulwrit3s · 9 months

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You make me so…

producer! riri x reader

a/n: I’m sorry if there r a lot of typos, I didn’t have to re-edit this. I was gonna make this a series but I just decided to turn it into a oneshot ! I feel like it’s a bit all over the place but yknow what? It’s fine 💀

@pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @onyxstones-world @kissvamps @shurislover

Riri 🎶

- meet me at the studio in 30, im tryna wrap this album up, I got places to be.

You read the text from your phone and feel an arm secure around your barely conscious frame. You feel a pair of lips against the nose of your neck that you used to make you shiver in the best way possible but has begun to bore you.

“Where you going?” Your girlfriend, Tori, grumbles as you begin to shift away from her. You turn around and gently kiss her forehead.

“I got to go to the studio.” You tell her as you sit up on the foot of the bed. You pull a shirt from the floor over your naked body. She wasn’t all that good in bed and she didn’t put you to sleep anyway so you don’t see a point in staying. Your girlfriend sits up and rubs at her bleary eyes.

“Why does she always need you?” She questions with irritation seeping through her words. You sigh again, this isn’t the first time she’s commented on Riri texting you late at night. You know it’s not flirtatious and they’ve interacted enough for your girl to hate your producer.

You can’t blame her. Riri’s naturally flirtatious, not purposefully. But her kindness can be taken a certain way. She’s caring, loving and so damn carefree it blows your mind. She calls everyone pet names and your girlfriend wasn’t too happy about it when she heard ‘baby,’ slip out of her mouth. Riri’s respectful and when she saw the slow twitch in your girl’s eyes so she had laid off the pet names for a while. Now she doesn’t care so much.

When you don’t feel like recording, she lets you take breaks. She doesn’t push your limits too quickly. She makes the best beats she can find, Hell, she gets you into after parties. She’s so damn considerate and so sweet.

“It’s work, let it go. A’ight?” You breathe out, walking towards the mirror and fluffing your flattened Afro. You feel arms wrap around your clad waist and want to pry her off of you.

It’s no longer cute, it’s borderline possessive and it’s taking everything in you not to say something crazy.

“As long as you know.” She shrugs, kissing your shoulder before heading out of the room, towards the kitchen you’re sure. You freshen up, wearing a skirt and boots. You never leave without a bunch of bracelets on your arm and golden hoops.

On your way out, you hear your girlfriend’s voice over her mic as she clicks away at her ps5 that you remember buying after your first check from a concert.

“I’m heading out.” You murmur.

“Yeah- Yeah, see you, babe.” She says, more excited at the video game on the flatscreen T.V than you. She doesn’t even spare a glance as you head out of your apartment. You don’t understand how someone can be so considerate and careless as the same time.

You do well for yourself, you live on a rather expensive side of Chicago now. And you’ve managed to take your girlfriend with her, she doesn’t work. Not now. She says she’ll get there at some point but even you aren’t sure when.

You don’t bother driving to Riri’s penthouse. It’s a nice night out, not too cold or too hot. It’s a simple light breeze and you find yourself finding more inspiration anyway. You receive a couple looks, a couple fans bump into you, begging for signatures and snapping photos of you. You’re new to this, the fame and paparazzi. It’s flattering and nowhere near Invasive just yet.

You finally reach Riri’s penthouse after a fifteen minute walk. You can hear the strumming of guitar chords and once you reach to knock a voice sounds.

“Doors already open.” Riri’s voice mentions. You push the door open to find her sitting in her leather couch. Her apartment is full of warm light, it’s the perfect temperature with all kinds of warm toned colors splattered around it.

“Wassup, Y/N. I like your fit.” Riri smiles. She noticed at least. She has a one-sided smile plastered on her face and a part of you can’t tell if you find it cute because it’s her or just a preference you have. Her braids are gathered in a bun on top of her head with spiraling curls framing her face.

“Preciate it.” You reply. She’s man spreading, dressed in loose sweats and sports bra , like she is nearly 90 % of the time. The public notices too and she’s had numerous comparisons to Adam Sandler. She’s more stylish but she has I-Don‘t-Give-A-Fuck, attitude. You noticed the sparkle in her tongue from the piercing lodged there as she begins to speak.

“I just wanted to go over the album, before everything’s set. Is that alright?” She questions as she stands up. She doesn’t walk towards her studio room, instead she walks towards the fridge across the island counter.

“You want sumn to drink?” She offers.

You already know it’s gonna be a long session.

…

“That was good, baby.” Riri encourages through the other side of the glass. You feel your face heat up at her compliment. It’s not the first time she’s ever praised you but you have the same reaction every time. You look up to find her with a headset on and relaxed look.

“Do that again, I need you to drag out the vowels a lil longer, f’me. If you nail that then this album is platinum.” She requests while sitting back and placing her hands behind her head. You hear the beat again. It’s slow, sensual and you find yourself rushing a lot.

That’s what this album is supposed to be. Slow. Sensual. It’s what your going for anyway. It’s supposed to be about love, lust and passion. Your supposed to be thinking about your girl. The woman in your home.

But instead you think of her. The woman in front of you, your producer.

You should be be thinking about your girlfriends smile, the soft cologne she wears, her raunchy laugh. But instead you think of Riri, her perfect hair, the vanilla perfume that she sprays on her neck, the softest chuckle she always lets out and that toothy grin. She has the cutest smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you missed the entire thing, you okay?” Riri asks. You snap your eyes up only to find her looking at you. Have her eyes always been this brown?

“I’m okay.”

“Fuckin’ liar, step out the booth, we gon talk this out, ma.” She replies. You want to complain but you do what she tells you anyway. Because truth is, she could tell you anything and you’d do it. And you hate that.

You take a seat next to a rolling chair next to her and focus on the glass covered album covers behind her.

“What’s botherin’ you?” She investigates. You focus on her the different golden rings on her fingers, the way she twists them around her middle and pointer finger.

“Nothing, I just um- I can’t focus.” You admit.

“Yeah? And why is that?” She digs deeper, sitting up so her elbow rests on her knees. Have her arms been so toned? You watch the Cuban link around her move back and forth.

“Is it sumn with yo girl?” She guesses. She takes your silence as a yes. She’s always seemed neutral when it comes to your girlfriend. She doesn’t mention it.

“Y/N, do you love her?” Riri asks.

“I don’t know.” You reply and Riri doesn’t know the reason why your questioning it is because of her. She smiles at you, and you’re sure she’s gonna drop some wisdom.

“Go home…go see her, we have a long day tomorrow, we got an after party. I want you to let loose and have fun.” She encourages as her hand gravitates towards the curve of your left shoulder.

“But the album-“

“I’ll put it together, you’ve given me everything I need.” She insists as she ushers you out. You want to reach out for hug but for some reason that seems to intimate.

“I’ll see you.” She promises and just like that you’re out in the Chicago air again.

Her words stick in your mind.

“you’ve given me everything I need.”

…

The next morning is busy. You wake yourself up and catch the sunrise but don’t have time to watch it. You run through your skincare routine, in the hopes of not having any breakouts.

You plan out your outfit for tonight, you want something that presents you on the outside. So you settle for a dark black body con dress, some black boots to match and a leather jacket. You’ll pair it with some shades and silver jewelry.

This is technically your first after-party and although it’s not a big deal to many artists, it’s a big deal to you. You’re going to meet so many other artists like you, some that you’ve been admiring for years.

While your in your robe, rubbing cream into your face, arms wrap around your waist like they do nearly every morning.

You wonder what Riri’s morning routine is like. Knowing her, she probably wakes up later than she should and most likely stays in bed. It’s wrong for think of someone else while your have a good girlfriend standing right behind you.

Tori’s stable. Predictable. She’s comfortable. She doesn’t try to make you happy anymore, she doesn’t know what you favor. Hell, she barely listens to your music. But you too, have grown far too comfortable. You know what she likes. You’ve known her since you were both in highschool. It’s too late to back out now.

You lean back in her arms and the smell of her cologne has become unfamiliar, your body and system have become accustomed to the scent of sweet vanilla and warm lavender.

“Want some coffee?” She asks and all you can do is smile and nod. You want Riri, but the guilt is too much. The guilt of leaving Tori would squeeze the life out of you.

She has no one but you. Hell, she moved from New York to Chicago to chase your dreams with you. You can’t have her and Riri at the same time. She hands you your coffee, it’s black and there’s nowhere near enough cream but you smile as you drink. She’s good to you.

Riri is no longer an option, she never should’ve been.

…

The party is at a high-end club. Filled with artists, big and small. None that you can see because of the lowly dimmed red lights throughout.

Riri 🎶

-wya? I got ppl for you to meet.

You try to text back but you feel a hand squeeze your own and look back to see Tori smiling at you. She isn’t dressed to coordinate your outfit but she still looks good, only in a simple white Tee and cargo pants.

“You look good, babe.” She smiles, kissing your shoulder excitedly. Her hand squeeze yours again. You notice that she has no rings on it. You shake your head out of it and feel her hand loosen up as her body tenses behind you. You aren’t sure why until you lift your head up. You find Riri in front of you, she’s in the middle of conversation and throwing her head back as she laughs.

She looks gorgeous. Beautiful. She’s in an oversized suit with nothing but supple skin underneath and a plunged v-neck. She holds a clear glass of what you think is wine and her face beat with a soft glam which you see due to her braids being pulled in a high pony tail. She has her rings on as usual and her chain. That never changed.

Tori’s hand trails down to rest on your waist as Riri approaches. You do your best not to stare at the space between her breasts.

“Nice to see you two.” She smiles, gold decorating her bottom row of teeth. You hear Tori fake a laugh as you smile.

“Y/N, I got a couple people for you to meet, just let me know when you ready.” She points out with her bottom lip tucked into her mouth. You spin on your heel to look at displeased Tori.

“Go, I’ll meet you later, mhm?” You suggests. She mumbles something under her breath and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s messy and your sure your lip liner is on her own lips. You latch away from her and find a waiting Riri.

“Here you go,” She says as she hands you a glass of wine. The even doesn’t call for it but she doesn’t need you borderline drunk especially if it’s for business.

Throughout the night, she introduced you to everyone she can think of. All of her friends, all of the artists she works with, some big and some small. You don’t notice how many drinks you begin to grab and she eventually has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet. You start to lean into her touch for support, grabbing at shockingly toned shoulders and veiny hands.

“I think you’re done with the drinks, baby.” She whispers lowly as she leans into you. She had caught you trying to grab another but stopped you before you had the chance.

“I don’t need you ruining y’image.” She says sternly. The carefree version of her that you know is long-gone. Her face is stern as she guides you to a more empty part of the club. She puts you up against a wall, forcing her hands not to linger as she reaches into the pocket of your leather jacket.

Your mind is hazy, cloudy is a better word for it. You’re beginning to see two of her.

“Y/N, put the pin in.” She orders as she placed the phone in your face. You want to say something to her, tell her that she looks so fucking good. And that you’ve noticed the tattooed lined down her sternum.

“I’m calling Tori for you.” She sighs.

“Don’t, please. Not now.” You murmur as she puts the phone to her ear. You grab the lapels of her jacket and pull her close, so close that you can tell that she’s swapped her vanilla perfume for something more expensive.

“I want you.” You clarify through a croaky voice. Her eyes widen to the size of plates as you lean in, pressing her body to your own. She leans in close, so fucking close you can taste it.

“I’m not gonna be your second choice, Y/N. I refuse to be an option, okay?” She coldly clarifies. It feels like a damn slap to the face.

The distance between the two or you causes her to drop your phone which she quickly picks up anyway.

“Stop, Y/N. I’m callin’.” She insists. She looks…uneasy. She takes a step back, breathing in deeply as she looks at you with the phone to her ear.

“Yeah, man, she tipsy. We on the bottom floor, by the entrance.” She hangs up and slips your phone back into your pocket.

“We won’t mention this, you’re just drunk, you don’t want this, baby. You don’t want me, aight?” She says, like she’s trying to convince you but more-so herself. She smiles, hoping that it spreads onto your face but it doesn’t. She brings your hand to her lips and for the first time her lips touch your skin. You’ll never forget it. The coldness of her rings, the softness of her fingertips and the callouses on her palm.

“Go home, ma. I’ll see you.” She says with a sad smile that’s etched itself into your mind. She blends in with the lights the further she walks away from you and all you want to do is call for her but you hear Tori’s voice sound form behind you.

“Let me take you home.” She suggests, interlocking her bare fingers with the one that Riri just kissed. Your hand feels gross now, and you can feel the sweat that’s accumulated on your palm.

She kisses your temple but no matter where she kisses you. It won’t compare to the softest one you’ve ever received.

You agree to let her take you home. That’s the good choice. Tori’s the good choice. But if she is then why doesn’t it feel so fucking wrong?

…

You wake up the next morning with a slight headache but that’s not the worse part. The worse part is that you remember every single part you of last night. You remember Riri, her outfit, her voice, her kiss.

“You got real tipsy.” Tori murmurs as she rubs your back. You’re leaned over the bathroom sink with watery eyes and an angry stomach.

“I bet.” You murmur. You’ve always been a lightweight so even you don’t understand why you decided to get wine drunk last night.

“Yeah and uh- I’ll give you some space.” Tori says, leaving you with your thoughts.

You luckily, never end up puking your guts out but the nausea never leaves. Not becomes of the alcohol but because of the genuine anxiety from last night. You try to get some sleep but you never do.

…

Two days after the party you find Riri in her studio. She hasn’t spoken a word about the club. It’s like it’s been wiped from her brain. She keeps calling you pet names and has the softest smile on your face you swear you lose synapses by the second.

But you can’t play along. You’re not sure you want to. You’re seated right next to her with your album playing. The open room feels so stuffy.

And today there are no songs to finish up, or to record. All you two have to do is go over your album. Every song there is. And her favorite song begins to play. It’s your least favorite, more vulnerable than you’d like, it’s not your best work. You named it Seen, again, not your best work, not the most thought out.

“We should scrap that.” You murmur. It’s too intimate, and you’re beginning to hate it. Especially since Riri’s the one hearing it.

“Nah, let it play.” She sighs. All she would really need is a blunt to relax her. You stare at her, admiring her side profile while she closes her eyes. You know it’s about her. The song is about her. All of the nights she spent thinking of lyrics and love, were spent thinking around Riri. You watch her visibly relax, her abs tensing on every inhale and chest rising on every exhale.

“Riri-“

Her eyes meet yours before you can finish your sentence.

“I know…I was hoping you had forgotten, Y/N.” She says, nearly whispering into the air. You’re so tired of having to settle. Riri doesn’t let you, she doesn’t let you settle for bad brand deals, bad concerts, bad programs. You don’t think about any what if’s, what cons there are in your career because as of now she’s done everything in her power so you don’t have to.

"You've given me a lot, Y/N. But I grew up watching my parents and the love they got...There's no one else for them, there's no other choice. They're meant to be...I want nothing less. I don't want to be the other woman." She murmurs, her eyes low as she stares ahead. You remain silent because there's nothing you can think of saying. "Ion know how you feel bout Tori, I know you want me...But it's not difficult to want someone, You don't want me more than you want Tori," But you do. "I don't like this, being confused. You want me but you still with her..." She exhales before continues. " I can't accept that and neither should you." Your song has stopped playing for a long time. She still doesn't turn her head to look at you. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and both of you know who's calling. Riri knows you'll pick up. She knows now that you'll always pick Tori and seeing it will only solidify her thoughts. Tori's good, She's stable. She's everything you need. She should be enough. If that's the case why do you constantly need to remind yourself. You put the phone to your ear and watch Riri shift a little in her chair. Within two minutes, you're walking towards her apartment door. You don't say anything but before you can walk too far, she speaks. "Get home safe." ...

Within days, your album charts in the top 10 on Spotify and Apple music. Your phone blows with congratulation messages from people you love, people dear to you, people you haven't spoken to in years and exes that you have forgotten to block. While you're in the car with Tori, your least favorite song begins to play on the Radio. Today has been so confusing. It's been the worst day and best day of your life. There's nothing scarier than being vulnerable especially to millions of people worldwide. "This song is real cute, Who's it about?" Tori grins, confident that the song is all about her. Then your heart sinks and you realize that out of the hundreds of messages, you really only wanted to see one. Your eyes begin to burn with tears and your phone pings. Speak of the devil.

Riri 🎶

- congrats, y/n. you deserve it :)

You put your phone down and in your pocket, forcing a smile on your face.

“You.” You murmur and it excites the woman next to you but she doesn’t know who lingers in your mind. She never will.

what y'all think?

#riri williams #riri williams x reader

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