After Hours
pairings: nishimura riki x fem!reader
warnings: smut (MDNI), one shot, cream pie, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that willy). Lmk if there's anything else!
synopsis: Getting assigned to work with one coworker everyone warned me to stay away from.
word count: 3k
Authors Note: it’s like 2am and I have my frickin summer program tmr 🙂🔫 also ngl idk if ima make a part two to off limits cus I have no clue what else to add sorry 😞
I nervously fiddled with the hem of my skirt as I stood near the front counter, waiting for the mangers assistant to tell me where I’d be starting my first shift. The sounds of conversations, ringing phones, and hurried footsteps filled the building, making my nerves even worse. I glanced around at the employees moving were confidently from place to place and wondered if I’d ever look that comfortable here. I took a deep breath in to calm myself while I waited for my name to be called.
“Um, excuse me, ma’am, you can follow me,” a lady dressed in an expensive-looking suit called out to me.
I quickly smoothed out my skirt before following after her. My nerves only got worse with each step we took down the long hallway. The building was huge, and I could tell it had been recently renovated from the faint smell of fresh paint lingering in the air. The sound of our heels clicking against the polished floors echoed throughout the building, and I tried my best to keep up without looking completely lost.
As we passed rows of desks and offices, I noticed more and more people. Everyone seemed busy, typing away at their computers, answering phone calls, or hurrying from one meeting to another.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said with a small smile, noticing my anxious expression. “The first day is always the hardest.”
I let out a nervous laugh and nodded.
After a few more turns, she stopped in front of a glass door with 4 cubicles.
“This is going to be your cubicle,” she said, gesturing toward the desk.
I stepped inside and looked around. It wasn’t anything fancy—a desk, a computer, a rolling chair, and a few empty shelves—but it was mine.
“Make yourself comfortable,” the woman said. “Your team should be here shortly.”
Before I could ask any questions, she walked away.
I sank into the chair and took a deep breath, wondering what my team would be like.
A few minutes later I heard a group of footsteps and chatter.
"There’s the newbie" someone said with a bright smile on his face.
They all huddle near my desk
“Hi, I’m Minnie,” a woman with long hair said with a bright smile, pulling me into a quick hug before I could react.
“And this is Jake, and that’s Sunoo,” she added, pointing to the two standing beside her.
Both of them waved.
“Welcome to the marketing team!” Sunoo said cheerfully.
Their warm energy instantly made me feel more comfortable. The nervousness that had been twisting in my stomach since I arrived began to fade. It was hard not to smile when they all seemed so sweet.
“Thank you, guys. I’m so relieved I thought everyone here would be mean,” I said, letting out a small laugh.
“Trust me, everyone here is nice,” Jake replied with a reassuring smile.
“Well… except that guy,” Sunoo said, pointing toward a man sitting at a desk in another glass room.
I followed his gaze.
The man was focused on his computer. His dark hair fell effortlessly over his forehead, slightly covering his sharp eyes. He was tall, with broad shoulders that made him stand out even while sitting down. His expression was unreadable. Unlike everyone else in the office, he didn’t seem interested in chatting or joking around.
“Who’s that?” I asked curiously.
“That’s Riki” Minnie said. “He’s not exactly mean… just a little hard to talk to.”
“A little?” Sunoo scoffed. “Try impossible.”
Jake laughed and shook his head. “Don’t listen to them. He keeps to himself, that’s all.”
Okay enough about that let’s get you started” Minnie said clapping her hands together
They all started blabbing abt new ways to promote our newest products.
Before I could even process half of what they were saying, the conversation turned into a blur of marketing terms, campaign ideas, and deadlines. I nodded along, trying my best to keep up while secretly hoping no one would ask me a question.
Then there was a sharp knock on the door.
The room fell silent.
“Come in,” Minnie called.
The door opened, and the person who stepped inside immediately caught my attention.
It was him.
The same guy Sunoo had pointed out earlier.
His dark hair fell over his eyes as he glanced around the room. Dressed in a fitted blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
“There’s a project that requires both of our teams to work together. I need one of you guys,” he said in a flat, uninterested tone, as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
“You.” He pointed directly at me. “Come with me.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking away.
I gulped.
Of all the people he could have picked, why me?
Slowly, I turned to look at my team. Instead of the encouragement I was hoping for, they all wore matching expressions of pity.
“Good luck,” Jake muttered.
“You’re gonna need it,” Minnie added with a wince.
I stared at them in disbelief.
“Seriously?”
Sunoo placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “It was nice knowing you.”
“Sunoo!” Minnie hissed.
“What? I’m trying to prepare her.”
I let out a nervous laugh and grabbed my notebook.
As I walked toward the door, Sunoo called after me.
“Just don’t look him in the eye!”
My team laughed while I shot him an unamused look.
“That’s not helping!”
Stepping out of the room, I hurried to catch up with Riki, who was already several steps ahead of me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he walked through the office without looking back once to make sure I was following.
I practically had to speed-walk to keep up.
“You know, most people usually introduce themselves before kidnapping their coworkers,” I muttered under my breath.
To my surprise, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Most people talk too much.”
Okay.
This was going to be a very long project.
The two of us stepped into an elevator. The doors slid shut, leaving us alone in an awkward silence.
“So…” I said, trying to start a conversation.
“Do you like working here?”
“Sure.”
Wow. That was enthusiastic, I thought to myself, rolling my eyes.
A few moments later, the elevator doors opened. Ni-ki stepped out, and I quickly followed him down the hallway until we stopped in front of a room labeled Conference Room.
Inside, a large group of people were gathered around a long table. Papers, coffee mugs, and laptops were scattered everywhere, making it clear that they had already been there for a while.
The second we walked in, everyone’s eyes turned toward me.
“Who is this?” someone asked from across the room.
“Someone from Marketing,” Ni-ki replied without missing a beat.
That was it.
No name. No introduction.
I bit back a comment and took a seat in one of the empty chairs.
The meeting began almost immediately. Everyone tossed around ideas for upcoming projects, marketing strategies, product launches, and potential business deals. I tried my best to keep up, jotting down notes whenever something important was mentioned.
What felt like hours later, the meeting finally came to an end.
Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone stood up and started gathering their things. Relieved, I grabbed my notebook and headed for the door along with everyone else.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I froze.
Slowly, I turned around.
Riki was staring at me from across the table, one eyebrow raised.
“Uh… back to my desk?” I answered.
Riki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“The project won’t start itself.”
My stomach dropped.
This project had barely started, and I was already wishing it was over.
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
The next couple of weeks flew by faster than I expected.
During most of my time I would go from meeting to meeting or come up with new ideas with my team. I started liking it here. Me and my team would go out for lunch often or even hang out on weekends. I stared liking it here. The only problem was I still had the project with Riki and his attitude was not helping.
But despite, what everyone had warned me about, I was slowly starting to get used to him.
Well... sort of.
He was still stubborn and terrible at holding a normal conversation.
But during the late-night brainstorming sessions and endless meetings. I'd learned that he wasn't nearly as scary as he seemed.
At least, not all the time.
"You're staring at your screen again."
I looked up from my laptop to find Riki standing beside my desk.
I rolled my eyes.
"I'm thinking."
"Looks painful."
I gasped dramatically.
"Wow. That's rude."
"Just being honest."
Two weeks ago, that comment would've annoyed me.
Now it just made me laugh.
"Why are you here?"
"Meeting starts in five minutes."
I glanced at the clock and immediately sat up straighter.
"Wait—seriously?"
Riki nodded.
"Oh my gosh."
A small smirk appeared on his face.
"You're welcome."
I hated how much I was starting to enjoy that stupid smirk.
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
A few days later, I found myself stuck in the office long after everyone else had gone home. The project deadline was approaching faster than expected, and neither of our teams wanted to be the reason it failed. I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock.
10:47 PM.
Great.
The office was dead silent except for the faint hum of computers. Everyone else had left hours ago.
Everyone except me.
And Riki.
I looked over at him across the room. Same place. Same posture. Same focused expression that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
"Do you ever go home?" I asked, more tired than annoyed.
Without looking up, he replied, "Do you?"
I exhaled sharply.
"That's not an answer."
"It is."
"No, it's you avoiding the question." I said while yawning.
That made him stop typing.
Slowly, he looked up.
"Why are you still here then?" he asked.
I blinked.
"Because the project isn't done."
"leave."
I stared at him.
"...What?"
"You're tired, You're making mistakes."
I felt something flare in my chest.
"Oh, so now you care about if I'm tired?"
"No." His voice rose for the first time. "I just don't want to fix the mistakes you're going to make."
He stood, pushing his chair back.
I stood up too.
"Seriously?!"
"I'm serious."
"Right, because that's all you care about, isn't it? Results? Work? Everything except being an actual normal person?" My voice echoed through the empty office.
His eyes sharpened.
"I'm telling you to go home."
"No!"
His jaw tightened, and for the first time since I’d met him, the calm mask he’d worn for months slipped. Something flickered across his face—frustration, maybe hurt—but it disappeared before I could be sure. He exhaled slowly through his nose, as if he were using every ounce of self-control not to snap back.
I took another step toward him, refusing to back down.
“Say something,” I demanded. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.”
He didn't tell me I was wrong. For a long moment, neither of us moved. We just stood there, locked in each other’s gaze, daring the other to break first. Then something snapped in him.
He moved with a sudden, dangerous speed that stole the breath from my lungs. His hand shot out, fingers locking around my waist and yanking me forward with a force that slammed my hips flush against his. The sudden contact caught me off guard sending a wave of warmth radiating through my body.
"You want to know what I'm thinking?" he hissed, his voice a low, dangerous growl against my lips.
He didn't wait for an answer. He crashed his mouth onto mine, not with tenderness, but with a desperate, starving hunger that had clearly been hidden behind that composed expression for months. It was a collision—a clash of teeth and tongue and suppressed rage. I gasped into the kiss, my hands flying up to claw at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to erase every inch of space between us.
The taste of him was intoxicating coffee and something sharp like a flame starved of oxygen. He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of total surrender, and backed me up until my lower back hit the edge of the desk.
With one sweeping motion of his arm, he cleared the surface. My laptop slid across the table stacks of reports and folders scattered over the floor like confetti, forgotten and irrelevant. He hoisted me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, locking him in.
His hands were everywhere—tearing at the buttons of my blouse, the fabric giving way with a satisfying rip. I felt the cool air of the office hit my skin for a split second before it was replaced by the searing heat of his palms , his breath ragged and hot against the sensitive skin of my neck, leaving a trail of bruising kisses that made me arch my back and cry out.
"I've wanted to shut you up like this since the day you walked in," he whispered, his voice raw.
He fumbled with his belt, the metallic click of the buckle echoing in the silence of the empty floor. When he finally freed himself, the sight of him hard and pulsing and prec already dripping sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. I was already slick, aching for the friction, my body humming with a need that bordered on pain.
He didn't hesitate. He gripped my thighs, pulling me to the very edge of the desk, and drove into me in one deep, forceful thrust.
I let out a strangled scream, my head snapping back against the desk. He filled me completely, stretching me open, the sensation so intense it felt like an explosion. He froze for a second, his muscles locking, his face contorted in a mixture of agony and ecstasy as he adjusted to the tight heat of me.
Then, he began to move.
It wasn't a gentle rhythm; it was a battle. Each thrust was deep and rhythmic, the desk creaking under the weight of our bodies. The dimly lit fluorescent lights, the scent of printer ink, the silence of the night— clashed with the raw noises we were making. The sound of skin slapping against skin and our synchronized breathing filled the room.
He didn't slow down, his pace only becoming more frantic, more desperate. I clung to his shoulders, my nails digging into the expensive fabric of his top. Steadying myself as he hammered into me. Every impact sent a shockwave through my whole body, the hard edge of the desk pressing into my lower back, grounding me in the pure, overwhelming physicality of the moment. I could feel the friction building, a coil of tension tightening in my lower stomach, becoming tighter and tighter with every guttural moan he let out.
Suddenly, he groaned, a low, breathless sound, and pulled out with a wet, sliding pop that left me feeling empty and aching. I gasped, my legs still draped over his hips, my breathing short, jagged hitches.
He didn't let me recover. His eyes, dark filled with a hunger, locked onto mine as he reached behind me. His fingers fumbled for a moment with the clasp of my bra, the lace straining against my chest. With a sharp, decisive snap, the tension gave way. He ripped the fabric away, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, leaving my breasts bare and trembling in the cool office air.
He didn't waste a second. He leaned in, capturing one nipple between his teeth, tugging firmly while his hand squeezed the other breast, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive intensity. I cried out, my head tossing back, the sensation sending sparks of electricity dancing across my skin. He moved from one breast to the other, his tongue swirling around the peaks, tasting the salt of my skin, his breath hot and demanding.
Then, he shifted. He slid down my body, his hands gripping my thighs and pushing them wider, exposing me completely to the harsh glow of the ceiling lights. I felt a flash of vulnerability that quickly turned into raw anticipation as he knelt between my legs.
When his tongue first made contact, I nearly flew off the desk. He was precise, his tongue flicking against my clit with a rhythmic, agonizingly perfect pressure. I arched my back, my fingers pulling at his hair so hard my knuckles turned white. His breath hot against my wetness, his tongue diving deep and then swirling back to the center, teasing me, driving me to the edge.
The contrast was addicting —the silent office surrounding us, and the wet, slurping sounds of his mouth devouring me. I was shaking, my hips bucking instinctively, trying to push myself closer to his mouth. I whimpered his name, a broken plea, as the pressure built into an unbearable swell. Just as I felt the first tremors of a climax beginning to ripple through me, he pulled away.
I let out a frustrated sob, but he didn't let the pain linger. He spiked upward, his chest heaving, and grabbed my waist, hauling me back against him. He didn't slide back in slowly; he drove himself into me with a single, violent thrust that left me breathless.
"You're mine," he growled against my ear, his voice a rasp of pure hunger. "Everything about you is mine."
The friction was electric, the heat between us reaching a boiling point. He began to move again, but this time it was a relentless, driving force, his movements fast and shallow, hitting the exact spot that sent me spiraling. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, locking him in, pulling him deeper.
Everything was a blur except the sound of our colliding bodies and the scent of musk and ink. I felt the wave finally break—a sudden, violent explosion of pleasure that started in my core and radiated outward, turning my vision white. I moaned, the sound echoing through the empty floor, Clamping around him in tight.
The feeling triggered him. With one final, deep surge, he buried himself as far as he could go, his body locking up, a long, strangled groan escaping his throat as he filled me up with hot spurts of cum.
We stayed like that for a while, chests heaving in unison. When he finally spoke up.
“You were saying?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to catch his breath.
I glared at him, still struggling to steady my breathing. “Shut up.”
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧