☽LATE AT NIGHT〜NISHIMURA RIKI
어느 ─── in which two co-workers run to the convicent store for canabis but ended up doing more than smoking....
문맥─ Co-worker!riki x blkfem!reader ; wc 2.8k oneshot. smut. Substances. car sex. riding. unprotective sex.
Now playing♫:Late at night-Roddy Rich, Teenage fever-Drake
Malia was sprawled across the couch in her condo, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone while a movie played in the background. The room smelled faintly of weed and vanilla candles, the warm glow of a lamp being the only light source besides the television. Across from her, Riki sat in an armchair with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, finishing off the last handful of chips from a bag that had already been demolished. The two had been hanging out for hours, talking about everything and nothing the way best friends always seemed to do. It was one of those nights where neither of them had plans, responsibilities, or any reason to check the time.
Eventually Malia reached for another chip only to realize her hand hit nothing but the bottom of the empty bag. She frowned and looked around the coffee table. Empty wrappers. Empty drink bottles. Not even a piece of candy left.
“Please tell me there’s more snacks somewhere,” she said.
Riki glanced over and held up the empty chip bag. “You mean these snacks?”
Malia groaned and got up from the couch, heading into the kitchen. She opened one cabinet after another, finding nothing but random seasonings, a half-empty box of crackers, and cereal she knew neither of them would eat.
Riki laughed from the living room.
She checked the fridge next. Nothing useful.
“We’re actually out of everything.”
Malia opened it and immediately shut it again.
“A bag of frozen vegetables isn’t a snack.”
Riki finally got up and wandered into the kitchen. While Malia searched for food, he looked toward the small stash tray sitting on the counter.
For a moment they just stared at each other in disbelief.
The snacks running out was one thing.
The weed running out was a completely different emergency.
Malia quickly grabbed her phone from the counter and checked the time.
“Three-oh-two in the morning.”
The two stood there for another minute as if more snacks would magically appear if they waited long enough.
Finally Malia sighed. “The convenience store off Weston is open twenty-four hours.”
Riki’s eyes lit up. “You’re a genius.”
Within minutes they were getting ready to leave. Malia threw on an oversized brown furry hoodie, pulling the hood over her hair before slipping her phone and wallet into her pocket. Riki grabbed his keys from the coffee table and made sure he had his wallet.
Satisfied, Malia locked the condo door behind them and followed him outside.
The cool early morning air hit them instantly. The city was unusually quiet, most people already asleep while the few cars on the road passed by every couple of minutes. Streetlights reflected off the pavement, giving everything a soft red/orange glow.
Riki immediately smiled when he spotted his Hellcat sitting in its parking spot.
“You look at that car like it’s your girlfriend.”
“That’s because she’s beautiful.”
Riki ignored her and clicked the unlock button. The lights flashed, making him grin even wider. “You worked overtime just to afford that thing.”
Malia laughed and climbed into the passenger seat.
The interior smelled faintly of leather and air freshener. Riki started the engine and the deep rumble immediately filled the quiet parking lot.
“There it is,” he said proudly.
“One day somebody’s gonna take your keys just so you stop showing off.”
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Malia connected her phone to the Bluetooth system. A few taps later, “Late At Night” by Roddy Ricch began playing through the speakers.
“Now we’re talking,” she said.
The streets were almost completely empty, making the drive smooth. Buildings, streetlights, and closed storefronts passed by as they cruised through the city.
“So,” Malia said, settling comfortably into her seat, “how many times did boss man annoy you this week?”
Riki immediately laughed.
“You really want the list?”
For the next several minutes they complained about work, customers, coworkers, and especially their manager. Every ridiculous story reminded them of another one, turning the drive into a nonstop conversation filled with laughter.
By the time the bright neon sign of the convenience store came into view, both of them were still talking over each other.
“There it is,” Riki said as he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.
Malia looked at the glowing storefront and smiled.
“Mission snacks is officially underway.”
The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh as Malia and Riki stepped inside. The bright fluorescent lights immediately hit their eyes after being outside in the dark, making both of them squint for a second.
The store was nearly empty.
A tired cashier stood behind the counter scrolling on his phone while an older man in a reflective construction jacket slowly walked through one of the aisles with a coffee in hand. Other than that, they practically had the place to themselves.
The second Malia spotted the snack aisles, she disappeared.
“What?” she called back from halfway across the store.
“Acting like you’ve never seen chips before.”
“I haven’t seen these chips in at least a week.”
Malia ignored him and immediately started grabbing things. First it was two bags of chips. Then a package of cookies. Then candy. Then another candy because she couldn’t decide which one she wanted.
Meanwhile, Riki headed toward the front counter where the cashier looked up as he approached.
“What’s up, boss?” the cashier asked.
The two exchanged casual conversation while the cashier grabbed what Riki had come for. It was clear they’d seen each other enough times to recognize one another.
Across the store, Malia was still shopping like she was preparing for a natural disaster.
She stood in front of the drink coolers for nearly two minutes trying to decide what she wanted.
“You choosing a drink or naming your first child?” Riki called from the counter.
“You’ve been staring at the same fridge for five minutes.”
“Because they changed the flavors.”
A few moments later she walked toward the front carrying enough snacks to feed four people.
The cashier raised an eyebrow.
The cashier laughed while Riki looked at everything in her arms. “You’re the reason we run out of snacks.”
“I’m the reason we have snacks.”
Malia dropped everything onto the counter one item at a time. “Did you buy every unhealthy thing in the store?”
The register beeped continuously as the cashier scanned everything.
Finally the total appeared on the screen.
“And yo ass got snack addiction money.”
The cashier tried—not to laugh.
After another minute of arguing, they split the cost and gathered their bags.
As they stepped back outside, the cool night air felt refreshing compared to the warmth of the store. The parking lot was even emptier now, the silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic from the main road.
Riki unlocked the Hellcat and tossed the bags into the backseat.
Malia climbed into the passenger seat and immediately started digging through the snacks before they had even left the parking lot.
“We literally just got these.”
“We haven’t even driven away yet.”
Malia opened a bag of candy and shrugged.
Riki laughed as he started the engine.
The powerful growl of the car echoed through the nearly empty lot while Malia sorted through the bags beside him.
The hellcat’s engine rumbled to a low purr as Riki killed the ignition, the sudden silence filling the cabin like a held breath. The park was empty, streetlights casting long shadows across the damp grass. Through the windshield, the glow of Malia’s condo building was just visible beyond the trees—a thirty-second walk, but neither of them moved.
Malia had the blunt rolled, tucked between her fingers. She sparked the lighter, the flame dancing briefly before catching the tip. A deep pull, smoke curling into her lungs, then she passed it to him. He took it, their fingers brushing, and held her gaze as he ghosted—inhaled, held, then let the cloud drift slowly from his lips, no exhale, just a smooth, deliberate release.
She watched him. Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the way the amber light caught the cut of his jaw, the half-lidded focus in his eyes. Something shifted in her chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the blunt.
“You keep starin’, I’m gonna start chargin’ rent,” Riki said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He passed the blunt back, his voice low, teasing.
Malia took it, deliberately slow, and brought it to her lips. “I wasn’t starin’.” The lie was thin, her own smirk betraying her. She took a hit and held it, letting the smoke rise lazy between them.
He chuckled, leaning back in the driver’s seat, one arm draped over the steering wheel. “Yeah, okay. You was lookin’ at me like I was the last slice of pizza and you hadn’t ate all day.”
She coughed, half-laughing, half-choking on the smoke. “Boy, please. I was just thinkin’ how you got your lips all puckered up doin’ that ghost thing. Look like a fish.”
“A fish?” He turned to face her fully now, the smirk still there, but his eyes darker, more intent. “You was lookin’ at my lips, huh? That’s what got your attention.”
The blunt was nearly done. She crushed it into the ashtray, her heart hammering against her ribs. The teasing was familiar, easy, but tonight it felt charged, like static in the air before a storm.
“Maybe I was,” she said, surprising herself. “What about it?”
Riki’s eyebrows lifted, a flicker of something—surprise, hunger—crossing his face. He shifted in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him. “Nothin’ wrong with lookin’. Just gotta own it.”
“I’m ownin’ it,” she shot back, her voice steadier than she felt. “You just can’t handle me lookin’.”
“Oh, I can handle it.” He reached over, his hand landing on her thigh, warm through the thin fabric of her leggings. “But you been starin’ all night. At the store, in the car. So either you want somethin’, or you need glasses.”
Malia’s breath caught. His hand was heavy, grounding, and her skin tingled where he touched. She met his eyes, the silence between them stretching, thick with everything unsaid.
“And if I want somethin’?” she whispered.
The smirk faded. His jaw tightened. He leaned in, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, thumb brushing across her bottom lip. “Then you better tell me. ‘Cause I been wantin’ somethin’ too, and I’m tired of pretendin’ I don’t.”
She didn’t answer with words. She closed the distance, pressing her mouth to his.
The kiss was slow at first, exploratory, like they were tasting each other for the first time. His lips were soft, slightly chapped, and tasted of smoke and mint from the gum he’d popped at the store. She parted her lips, and his tongue met hers, a low groan rumbling from his chest. His hand slid from her chin to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until she was twisted in her seat, one hand gripping his hoodie, the other braced against the dashboard.
When they broke for air, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been wantin’ to do that for a minute.”
“You should’ve said somethin’,” she murmured, her fingers threading into his hair.
“You could’ve too.” He kissed her again, quicker this time, then pulled back. His eyes traced down her body, then flicked to the space between the seats. “Come here.”
She didn’t hesitate. She climbed over the center console, her knees sinking into the passenger seat as she straddled his lap. The steering wheel pressed into her back, but she didn’t care. His hands found her hips, gripping tight as she settled onto him, the ridge of his cock already hard through his jeans.
“Damn, Malia,” he breathed, his voice rough. “You don’t waste no time.”
“You talk too much,” she said, but there was no heat in it. She leaned in, kissing his neck, his jaw, her hips rolling experimentally against him. He gasped, his fingers digging into her flesh.
“Shit—okay, okay. But let me get these pants off before you break my zipper.” He fumbled with his button and fly, shoving his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself. His cock stood thick and light against his stomach, the tip glistening in the dim light.
Malia pulled her leggings down, not bothering to fully remove them, just bunching them below her ass. She positioned herself over him, the head of his cock pressing against her slick folds. She was already wet, the anticipation and the kissing and the grinding having done their work.
“You sure?” he asked, his hands stilling on her hips.
She looked down at him, his face serious in the shadows. “I’m sure. You better not stop.”
The sensation was electric—a slow, burning stretch as she took him inch by inch. Her mouth fell open, a soft moan escaping as she bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. He was full inside her, filling her completely, and she paused, letting herself adjust.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his head falling back against the headrest. “You feel… damn, girl.”
She started to move, a slow rock, then a steady bounce. Her hands braced on his shoulders, her knees digging into the seat as she rode him. The car rocked with her rhythm, the suspension creaking softly, the windows fogging with their breath.
He watched her, his eyes dark and hungry, one hand sliding up her stomach to cup her breast through her hoodie, thumb circling her nipple. “Yeah, just like that. You look so good on top of me.”
“Shut up,” she panted, but a smile broke through her concentration. “Don’t make me laugh while I’m… ahhh… tryna focus.”
“Focus on what?” He thrust up, meeting her rhythm, and she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You feel me? That’s all you gotta focus on.”
She picked up speed, her thighs burning, the pleasure building in her core. He was hitting that spot—deep, angled—and she couldn’t stop the moans that spilled out of her, loud and raw in the small space.
“You like that?” he growled, his hips slamming up harder. “Tell me.”
“Yes—fuck, yes, right there—don’t stop.”
He didn’t. One hand slid down to grip her ass, guiding her movements, the other tangled in her hair, pulling her down for a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues tangled, muffling her cries as she felt herself climbing, the tension coiling tight in her belly.
“I’m close,” she gasped against his lips. “Riki, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice strained. “Let go. I got you.”
She shattered, her body clenching around him, a wave of heat flooding through her as she rode out the orgasm, her movements becoming frantic, uneven. He groaned, his own release following moments later, his hips bucking as he pulsed inside her, filling her with warmth.
They stayed like that, connected, breathing hard, the sweat cooling on their skin. The park was silent. The only sound was their heavy breaths and the distant hum of a passing car.
Malia rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Well. That happened.”
He laughed, a low, satisfied sound, and wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah. Finally.”
She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “Don’t get all sappy on me now.”
“Who’s sappy?” He grinned, teasing glint back. “I’m just sayin’. Took us long enough. Now I gotta drive you home, and you ain’t got no snacks to show for it.”
“I left the snacks in the back seat,” she said, laughing. “ I ain’t lettin’ that shit go to waste.”
He kissed her forehead, soft and tender. “Fair enough. But we ain’t done talkin’ about this.”
“We can talk after I get my Hot Cheetos.” She shifted off him slowly, wincing as she settled back into her seat, pulling her leggings up. “And after we get inside, ‘cause now I’m hungry for real.”
He zipped up, watching her with a lazy smile. “Bet. Let’s go.”
The hellcat roared back to life, and as they pulled out of the park, the condominium lights just ahead, Malia reached over and laced her fingers with his. He squeezed her hand, and neither of them said a word—but they both knew nothing was going to be the same from now on.
