ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ
Characters: MCU!Riri Williams x Shy!Black!Fem!Reader
Type: Fic
Word Count: 5.3k
Synopsis: You’ve always been the type to let your mind run frantic. But when a certain girl asks you out for a day on the town, you find yourself slowing down and taking in the beauty of living in the moment.
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use (cannabis), one of reader’s exes was a guy
A/N: Just something cute inspired by the song “Slow Down” by Skip Marley and H.E.R. It’s been stuck in my head for the longest and the music video just SCREAMS Riri so I had to do a lil sumn sumn for my girlfriend. Hope yall enjoy! Suggested songs to listen to when reading: “Slow Down” by Skip Marley ft. H.E.R., “Right Track” by Syd ft. Smino, “oui” by Jeremih.
Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @verachii @heartsforjojo @letitias-fav @kingstormpostsshit @shurismainbxtch @zayswriting @rxcently @nzia-writes @writingintheshadowsforever @hufflehans @kokichiis7 @xxmilli @typicalme13 @zestgodtj @generallysapphic @ziayamikaelson @shuriszn @percsane @justariellove @n7cje @mbakuetshurisprincess
You knew you would regret coming to this party.
This kind of scene was never your cup of tea. You weren’t a fan of dancing, or loud music, or getting so drunk that the only thing on your mind was finding someone to grind with on the dance floor. You’d barely drunk the heavily diluted liquor in your red solo cup, finding the watered down burn of the beverage displeasing to your throat. The dim green lights that danced across the numerous bodies on the dance floor did you more of a favor by obscuring your position against the wall, as you didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone. You were comfortable against the wall, away from sweaty bodies and the heavy stench of alcohol and the mingling perfumes, colongues and pheromones that danced in the air.
You were here for a friend, but as you watched them get swept away by another party goer to continue their more than inappropriate grinding in secret, you were left virtually alone, made to endure the loud, bass-heavy music and overwhelming amount of people by yourself.
You ran a hand through your faux locs, some of them adorned with gold ornaments, brushing the long locks of hair to rest over your left shoulder, leaving the right one bare and shining underneath the green lighting. Your outfit wasn’t extravagant or eye catching, as you didn't want to be quite noticeable at this sort of engagement. A simple black crop top covers your chest and ends just under your rib cage, and just under your belly button is the elastic band of your leggings, which are black as well. An oversized white sweater rests around your frame, much of the material bunched up on your arms with your hands barely peeking out of the sleeves, and matching white Air Force One’s decorate your feet. The hands that hold your red solo cup are adorned with a variety of silver rings, your nails a simple coffin shaped, matte brown color, and on your neck rests a stainless steel chain that could be mistaken for that of a cuban link chain at first glance.
You’d seemingly done everything in your power to concoct an outfit that would not get you noticed, but there’s a pair of eyes from across the room that challenges that theory. And it's in one of your scans of the room that you make contact with those eyes, and for a moment, your breath stills as you realize that this person is staring right at you. They’re staring right at you, and it looks like they have been for a while.
She’s standing on the opposite end of the room, and you can just barely see her as she stands on some elevated part of the floor, her body visible from the torso up, the rest being obscured by the many dancing bodies. She, too, has a red solo cup in hand, and she’s holding her firm gaze while she takes a sip from it. Her hair is done in neat cornrows, a few of them laying over her shoulders. She has on a white cropped tank that fits tight on her chest, and from what you can tell through the dancing heads that hide the rest of her body, blue ripped jeans that are high waisted and fit her curves just right.
She was very pretty, you had to admit, but the thought of her eyes finding you of all people is what caused your mind to start racing. Did she know you? Did you know her? Did she know your friend, and in extension, you? You cast your eyes aside as your mind began to come up with so many different questions and rationalizations to explain why she could have been eying you down, how long had she been doing so. You’d gotten so caught up in your head that you hadn’t noticed that the girl from across the room disappeared from her spot on the adjacent wall. Instead, she was coming to take up a spot next to you.
Out of your peripheral vision, you watch her walk towards you. It’s not a pace out of haste, but not one of caution either. She seems skillful in her approach, as if she had done the same many times before. It has you questioning the exclusivity of the occurrence, but seeing as you don’t know much about her, other than the fact that she’s extremely attractive and seems to have taken some sort of interest in you, you decide to push that thought into the back of your mind. You watch carefully as as she comes closer to you, eventually stopping next to you, and the sheepish grin that graces her lips makes your breath hitch in the slightest.
“Hey,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear her above the thundering music, “you looked lonely over here. Want some company?”
Perhaps there was a time a few moments ago when you would have rather been left alone, but now that she’s right in front of you, the resolve to say ‘no’ gets caught in your throat. Instead, you allow her to make herself comfortable next to you on the wall, and she’s so close that you can feel the heat of her caramel-toned skin against your own. There’s a sense of bashfulness building up in your body that you can’t push down, no matter how hard you try to remain calm and collected with this beauty that stands next to you.
“There a reason why you holdin’ up the wall?” She questions, and you realize that fuck, she’s talking to you, and you have to answer her in a normal tone, and not the high-pitched, childlike one that normally comes out when your shyness taks over.
“Just not used to this whole thing,” you admit, taking while releasing the breath you had been holding, “I was originally here with a friend, but they, um…went somewhere else.”
The mystery-pretty-girl catches on quickly to what you’re insinuating, her head bobbing up and down with a nod of understanding. “Well, that ain’t no good friend. No dick is worth leavin’ yo homegirl out to dry like that.”
She’s right, and you know she is, but you still find a way to rationalize your friend’s behavior, “Could be worse. They could’ve left completely and left me here.”
“Can’t imagine why anyone would leave someone as cute as you alone,” and for the third time tonight, you feel your breath get caught in your throat, and for the first time, there’s an intense heat that’s creeping up your neck and flooding your face. The dim lighting and the depths of your melanated skin are a blessing, because you’re sure that without either, you’d be as bright as a strawberry. The suddenness of her flirtation brings from you a sheepish chuckle, and despite the current setting, it’s almost as if the world is beginning to fade away, slowly but surely, the more that this myster-pretty-girl is in your presence.
For a moment, the mystery-pretty-girl pauses in thought. She brings her bottom lip between her teeth for a split second, before letting it go, and instead raising her free hand to yours. “Name’s Riri.” She introduces, and you take her hand hesitantly. They’re the same size, not counting the additional centimeters added on by your acrylics, and they’re soft with a gentle scent of shea butter on them.
“(Y/N).” You reply, and it causes Riri to smile again.
“Pretty girl with a pretty name. That checks out, I guess.” She says, and you find yourself giggling again, abashed.
“You say this ain’t your scene?” Riri questions.
You nod in response, your finger tapping against the red solo cup in an attempt to ground yourself as you’re being forced to hold Riri’s intense eye contact.
“No. I came as a favor,” you clarify, “I’d rather be at home. In my bed. Reading or watching TV. But I owed my friend a favor, so here I am.”
“Yeah, and they ain’t,” Riri reiterates, “but I am. I’on know about your friend, but I ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen to you, ma,” and it’s when she calls you that very dangerous pet name that you feel an insatiable pool of butterflies begin to violently flutter in your stomach. Riri is making it hard to stay calm and collected, and even hard to keep down the smile that is so insistent on making a home on your lips.
“That’s very sweet of you,” you commend, and it is, but you believe that there’s a hidden agenda behind those sweet words. You were no stranger to flirting, despite not having been flirted with yourself or you flirt with anyone, but you know when someone is applying pressure. And Riri was doing just that, leaving your question to be ‘why?’
“So you were so worried about my safety that you were staring at me for a good minute across the room?” You question the other, a sudden sense of confidence surging through your veins. Maybe it’s the heavily diluted alcohol finally catching up to you, or maybe it’s because you find your body relaxing in the presence of Riri. “So worried that you came up to talk to me?”
“Damn, you makin’ it seem like I’m a creep or somethin,” Riri laughs, and it’s such a sweet sound that fills the air around you, drowning out loud music, “I just thought you were cute. Wanted to shoot my shot.”
Oh.
You didn’t expect that. Neither the confession, nor the bluntness of it. It causes the same raging heat from before to make its way back to your face, burning your ears and making your breath hitch. It’s futile to even try to come up with a witty retort, because the moment you open your mouth, you begin to stutter out incoherent noises. Your bashful nature causes Riri to laugh, this time it's a bit louder, even drawing the attention of some nearby partygoers. You try to shield yourself by raising the red solo cup to your lips, reluctantly downing a gulp of the watery alcohol and letting the dull sting of it trickle down your throat as a wake-up call to what was happening.
“Okay, that was funny-”
“It definitely was not-”
“-and cute as hell-”
“-also definitely was not-”
Your little back and forward ceases when Riri brings her red solo cup to her own lips, downing a gulp, and once she’s done, the faint smell of something fruity wafts through the air. It smells way better than the diluted dark liquor you acquired hours ago, and you wonder if it tastes any better. You find yourself looking at Riri’s lips as you think this, which she takes every opportunity to point out.
“You ain’t gotta be shy about kissing me,” the brown-haired girl said, and her lips curled into this shit eating grin as she watched you realize that she picked up on where your eyes were. You were sure that she was also catching on to your timid nature and just the right buttons to push to turn you into a spluttering mess. And you couldn’t tell if you despised just how easy she was able to read you, or if you were enjoying that she was learning you.
“That is the last thing I want to do right now.” You retort, a slight tone of amusement in your voice. It was a slight fib. Her lips did look very kissable right now, but you were not about to give in to her temptation.
“Okay, fair. You’re a ‘kiss after the first date’ type of girl. I can get with that.”
“You’re really laying it down, aren’t you?”
“What can I say? When I see what I like, I apply the pressure accordingly.”
And the proof was in the way she had you pressed against the wall, her arm propped to the side of your head, holding her at just the perfect distance from your face, one that made you want to close the gap, but refuse to be the first to do so.
“And do you say that to all girls you come across at parties like this?” You respond, biting your lip in curiosity. There was absolutely no way that someone like her was so smooth with words just on the first go. Riri had to have spoken like this to other girls, otherwise, how could she have learned this so easily?
“Nope,” Riri answers, which causes you to frown slightly, “cuz ain’t no girl got me so sprung I went up to them to shoot my shot.”
“I don’t think I believe that,” you retorted, a bit of sass in your voice.
“Aight, then, lemme take you out,” Riri proposes, “and I’ll show you better than what I can tell you.”
You weren’t sure where your friend was now, and you would feel bad about not caring in the morning. Right now, the world of the party you were at had just died around you, and in its place, the mystical that was Riri Williams took its place.
You were starting to regret agreeing to this date with Riri Williams.
You'd been waiting inside the train terminal for thirty minutes passed the original meet up time. At 10 minutes, you chalked it up to the shitty transportation that was the Chicago Transit Authority. The trains never ran on time these days, and when they did, there were always unnecessary pauses for CTA police personnel to have their German shepherds sniff in each car to catch an unsuspecting dealer switching through cars with their signature chants. At 20 minutes, you checked your phone for any response to your messages, and you were becoming less and less shocked that the messages would have 'ready displayed underneath them, or an appearance of the three dots signifying she was typing, but a response never came in. It was now at the 30 minute mark, and you were beginning to think the worst.
Was this a joke? Some inhumane prank she thought was funny to play? A huff leaves your lips, the puff of air blowing away your faux loc from in front of your eyes to the side of your face. You could feel yourself getting emotional from the thought of being stood up. You were no stranger to the feeling of rejection, it was an emotion you had become quite familiar with in high school, but you’d allowed yourself to give Riri Williams, some random girl from South Shore, a chance to woo you because you thought you felt something when she spoke those words to you at that party last night. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, you rationalize. Perhaps it was being under the influence that provoked the other girl to strike up a conversation with you, to speak smooth words and sweet nothings in your words over the loud bass of the music that still left rhythm in your veins, even after a good night’s rest.
You checked your phone once again - still radio-silence from the other woman’s end. You closed your eyes, heaving another sigh of defeat.
The sound of rushing commuters echoed throughout the terminal hall, people brushing by, exiting and entering the toll thresholds as they paid their fare in a rush for the train. The loud footsteps and voices clouded your thoughts, you didn’t even hear Riri approaching. It was her touch that brought you back to reality - it shocked you a bit, given the current place you were standing, one just doesn’t touch someone on the CTA without announcing their presence first.
“Yo, hey, chill, it’s just me!” Riri rushes out as you come down from preparing your defenses when you realize who had come up to you. While you returned to your dormant position, your face still held disappointment, and Riri caught on to it instantly.
“I’m sorry I’m late, the trains have been shit today,” she says, “and then the bus to even get to the 79th train station was delayed.”
You were, at the most, glad it was nothing too serious, but your face was still in a frown. “You could have texted me back, you know,” you respond, “it’s not good date etiquette to leave the girl you asked out on read. Have her thinkin’ you stood her up ‘nd shit.”
“I know. That’s my fault, that’s all on me,” Riri owns, and it’s here that you’re able to finally take in her appearance. She’s got on this oversized sweatshirt that’s a pretty forest green color that compliments her skin. It’s paired with a pair of baggy blue jeans with various rips in the fabric, and a pair of green kicks to match. A gold chain rests on her chest, drawing the outfit together. It’s simple, but on her, she makes it look like it’s a part of some fashion designer's latest collection.
The heat that rushes up your body makes your own sweater seemingly unbearable. If your skin tone had been anywhere near the cream color of your sweater, your shyness would have been given away instantly. It seems you aren’t the only one who has taken the time to admire your shared choice of clothing, as Riri steals a once-over of your attire, stopping briefly at the rips in the jeans on your thighs, revealing the plush skin, and smile.
“You look cute,” she compliments.
You swallow the squeal that begs to leave your throat, “s-so do you.”
“Look at us, already cute together.” Riri hums, and the shiver that makes its way up your spine is unavoidable, because her subtle insinuation and the tone of her voice has you thinking about how the date would end before it could even begin.
Riri takes your hand into hers and leads you up the stairs and out of the train terminal, the crisp spring air revitalizing your lungs from the stuffy stench of trash and filth that clings to the underground terminal. You notice a few notable stores the minute the two of you break view - the gothic Target that’s directly to your right with two floors ready to be explored, the Jacks off 5th that’s across the street, the Zumiez that is also across the street and a little ways behind you, and a Foot Locker next to the Jacks.
You were no stranger to these stores, having eyed them every time you’d come downtown with your friends just to walk around and window shop. You were broke highschool kids, who’s only fun was walking aimlessly along State Street, eying the window displays and imagining yourself having the money to buy the things you wanted. You would’ve been happy window shopping like all the times before, but it seems that Riri has other plans.
“I’on know about you,” she begins, as the two of you cross the ever-busy street, “but I need me a new pair of shoes. So first stop is Foot Locker.”
You barely get a chance to resist, because before you know if, you’re in the store, and the associates greet Riri as if she’s a regular. You stiffen a little, your hold on her hand tightening at the new environment you found yourself in.
“Hey, you alright?” Riri whispers as she drags you along with her to one of the wall displays, thankfully one that seems to be isolated.
“Yeah,” you fib, biting your lip, “I mean - I don’t exactly have Foot Locker money, but-” yet the moment you see the look on Riri’s face, your words trail off, and the feeling of embarrassment begins to fill you.
“If I remember correctly, I was the one taking you out, right?” Riri asks.
“Yeah, but-”
“-and if I asked you out, what kind of date would I be if I let you spend your own money?”
“Riri,” you whisper-yell, her words beginning to hit you, “you are not spending hundreds of dollars on me for a pair of shoes!”
“What was that?” The other woman hummed in response, feigning cluelessness, furthering your frustration, “You said this pair of shoes is cute?”
She picks up a pair of black high-tops, one that has a big white tag on it that reads two hundred-fifty dollars, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “I swear to god, Riri-”
“-y’know, these do look nice as hell,” she comments, completely ignoring you at this point, and there’s a whine that’s pushing against your throat, begging to be released, but you suppress it with all your strength, “now are you gonna keep arguing with me, or are you gonna let me actually date you?”
In the short amount of time you’ve talked to her, you’ve come to realize that arguing with Riri Williams was futile in every attempt. She would win every single time, in some way, shape, or form, and to refute her would cause you your own headache. Remembering your observation, you all but sigh, giving in to her antics, and Riri’s lips carry a smile of victory.
She asks for your size and you give it to her, with no resistance. Almost an hour later, and the two of you leave the store with a bag each - you having the one pair of high tops Riri had brought your attention to earlier, and her two pairs of shoes she said were new additions to her collection. She’s a sneakerhead, you deduce, and imprint this new information into your brain for recollection later.
After Foot Locker, the inevitable rumble of your stomachs leads you to a nearby Subway, of which the two of you bunker down for a moment to eat and get to know each other.
“So you’re an engineer?” You question after taking a bite of your sandwich. “Anything specific?”
“Nothin’ much, really,” Riri replies, speaking through the mush of food in her mouth, covered by her hand. She continues after swallowing, “I do some robotics here and there. I be buildin’ people’s shit for classes, it’s a good side gig. Honestly, though, I just make whatever comes to mind.”
You were indifferent to the world of math and science and technology, but the way Riri speaks about it, it sounds like STEM became her saving grace. She has a passion for it, and you admire it. You admire her.
“That’s fuckin’ amazing,” you murmur in response, “I mean, I can’t tell an expression from an equation, but I can tell that you talk like you love it. Not just for the money, but you actually love what you do. A lot of people can’t say that.”
Riri shrugs, chugging down a sip of her drink before she speaks again, “I been doin’ it since I was a baby; if it ain’t love for this shit, I can’t tell you what it would be that drives me. That money do be a good motivator though.” And the both of you laugh, and it is deep and boisterous and genuine.
The next stop on your day on the town is to Block 37 - a five story mall building with various shops, food spots, and a cinema on the top floor. Riri takes you to Banana Republic, and tells you to look around to your heart's content. As much as you want to fight her on it, the look in her eyes immediately shoots you down, and so, the pair of you begin to look around at the various racks and shelves of items.
“You don’t go on many dates, do you?” Riri suddenly asks. You could reply with some witty remark, but the fact of the matter is that Riri’s words are true.
“Not really,” you admit, “I’m not exactly the first option for people.”
Your experience within the dating field is very limited. You weren’t as outspoken, confident, and alluring as some of your friends. You were the wallflower, the shy, quiet girl who never caught the eyes of the people you wanted. You were content with that label, as you had come to accept your position a long time ago. So to say you were a bit shocked that Riri even asked you out, and actually meant it, was a little bit of an understatement.
Riri saves her next question for when the two of you find refuge on a bench in Millenium Park. It’s a slightly secluded area, with the bushes obscuring the both of you and giving you a sense of privacy.
“Okay, now I’m curious,” she begins, and you can already tell she’s about to ask something absurd, “have you ever had another girlfriend?”
“I’ve had other partners,” you answer, “doesn’t mean they were necessarily good, though.”
You lean back into the wooden seat, eyes directed upwards to the blue sky, puffy white clouds slowly floating by. “Before I was out, I dated a guy. Horrible experience, zero out of ten, would not recommend. Then during my phase of questioning, I was talking to this one girl, and she practically led me on for the entire time we were talking. And aside from them, I haven't had any other experiences.”
The first guy you dated was during your freshman year. Thinking back on it, you probably couldn’t consider the engagement a relationship, as he never claimed you, and entertained other girls during the time you were supposed to be together. You’d been the one to ask him out, and you’d been the one to break things off.
The second girl you dated during the summer of your sophomore year of college - not too long ago, actually - was the person to help you realize your sexuality. That was the only thing that came out of that situationship. Perhaps it was the aura, the appearance, the smooth words or her demeanor that drew you to her. You couldn’t confidently say that the emotion you felt for her was love, but it was something closely akin to it. Which made it all the more painful when you ended the engagement after a long period of consideration, because while it killed you to hate her for the way she toyed with your feelings, loving her would have truly murdered you.
Riri takes notice of the somber look on your face. It makes her wonder just how wrongful were you treated by these prior suitors, how they had fumbled your heart and left you as this timid, weary person, nervous at the idea of someone genuinely finding interest in you.
“Well, they sound like assholes,” she remarks, and you snort at her conclusion, “and that they don’t know something good when it’s in front of them.”
“And what, you do?” You shoot back playfully, and although your words were supposed to come off as a joke, Riri’s face displays a seriousness you hadn’t seen until now.
“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I was just tryna fool around, ma.” she confesses. It takes you slightly by surprise - this is the second time she has expressed her interest in you.
“Then what are your intentions?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your own sweater. Did you have doubts that Riri was taking you seriously? Of course. You met at a house party, of all places. What percentage of couples who met at house parties actually stay together for the long term? You were sure it wasn’t a large number. What could she have possibly seen in you in less than twenty-four hours that captivated her so intensely?
“I wanna date you,” Riri says, matter of factly, “wanna make you mine. Ain’t that the purpose of dating? To get to know each other and see if we’re compatible?” And for the second time since you’ve met her, Riri Williams has you completely speechless with her straightforwardness.
“I mean, yeah, when I saw you at that party, I saw a pretty face standing alone on the wall; I had to come shoot my shot,” the engineer confesses, “but I’m vibin’ with you. You’re cute, you’re funny, and we match energies. You’re down to earth and you’ve got a mind of your own. I like that, and I like you.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were being cooked in an oven by the way the intense heat from your bashful nature took over your being. You had never experienced a confession of this caliber before - much less one at all. You shy up instantly, your voice getting lost in the incoherent noises that were begging to be released from your throat. Riri Williams has yet to not amaze you.
“Th-That’s nice and all,” you begin, pursing your lips together, darting your eyes away, “but that’s hardly a decision I can make just off one date.”
“Then lemme take you on some more,” Riri chirps, finding the solution to your faux dilemma easily, “I’m not asking you to make a split second decision right now. I’m just saying - gimme a shot, and I’ll show you that you ain’t gotta overthink about how I feel about you. Let me get to know you.”
You turn your gaze back to the girl sitting next to you, and for the third time since you’ve met her, Riri Williams has you speechless. But as you think about the initial proposal, the idea that Riri took her time to observe you, and would continue to learn you voluntarily, because she did like you, makes your heart flutter in a way it hadn’t done so in years. Perhaps it’s a proposition you could entertain, you think, as a small smile makes its way to your lips.
“What kind of dates would you take me on?” You ask, your voice a bit lower, and you don’t even notice that your body begins to leave in to the space between the two of you. It a cute act of flirting, Riri deduces, and she reciprocates your movements, leaning closer into you as she responds.
“Whatever you wanna do, ma,” She murmurs to you, “I’on think you’re the party kind of girl. I can tell you like lowkey shit…at home dates, that kinda stuff.”
“I do like me a good movie marathon,” you chuckle, and due to some unknown burst of confidence, you’re able to hold her intense eye contact, chocolate brown irises staring into each other. You catch Riri’s eyes darting from your eyes to your lips in a swift motion. The sudden burst of confidence grows in you, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, a little bit of mischief climbing its way up your throat.
“You ain’t gotta be shy about kissing me,” you mutter, recalling the use of those very words by her the night prior.
Your words cause Riri to chuckle as her eyes dart to your lips again. She sucks her teeth, “Got a nigga to confess to you and now you actin’ bold.”
But she’s not complaining, not in the slightest, and neither do you when she leans in a little bit more, closing the gap between the two of you. It’s a dangerous near touch, your lips barely ghosting against each other. She’s holding back, you think; her hesitancy asking you for permission to proceed. But instead of giving her a signal, you take the leap - reaching up in the slightest manner to close the centimeter gap between the two of you, locking your lips together in a kiss that sends your stomach into a frenzy. Riri’s hand travels to the side of your neck, holding you there and erasing anything thoughts you had of pulling away. It’s mind numbing, the way the pads of her fingers press so gently against your skin, pressing more of you into her, and the way she tastes of cherry carmax and mint.
The world slows around you, and for the first time, your mind isn’t racing with doubts or questions. And you quite like this feeling. Perhaps with Riri, you’ll get to enjoy it more.
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