kevinhartfangirl420

"God, is it just me or is this outfit feeling tighter than usual..." You say to yourself as you pulled at your fancy outfit.

You hear a wolf-whistle towards your way, "Damn, [Name]. You really matured in the right places."

You look back to see an older man, making a bee line through the other alumni as his steps darted towards your way. Light brown hair that was tinted with a few strands of gray. Getting a closer look at him, you realized it was one of the guys you had (regrettably) dated during your early days at the JCC.

"Goddammit," you whisper to yourself under your breath.

He finally stops at a close distance in front of you. A flirtatious smirk carved into his face that made you want to hurl. "You look cute, maybe a bit sexy too." His tone smug.

You roll your eyes, "Wow, glad to see you haven't changed." You speak in a sarcastic tone, a clear annoyance in your voice.

He just laughed at your response, taking in your clear pass at his flirtatious remark, "I couldn't say the same for you, you've gotten feistier and.....hotter."

You scoff, "Forget it, I'm not young and naive anymore. I'm not gonna fuck you."

His smirk doesn't falter, his eyes rake over your form before meeting with yours, "C'mon, babe. You gotta admit, we were a hot couple back in the days."

His arm slowly reaches to caress your face, "And who says we can't relight an old flame..."

Before the back of his fingers could touch the curve of your face, a tattooed hand grabs his wrist, brutally twisting it in a way that no human arm should look.

"Did anyone tell you that you're supposed to keep your hands to yourself?"

That voice.

You look up to see a black-haired man, clad in a suit and tie. Eyes round and pitch-dark like a moon without it's sun, a wide smile shaped like a crescent, and a golden ratio tattoo that peeks behind the collar of his white button up.

Oh my god. It's fucking Nagumo Yoichi. The kid who always teased you for being a 'giant.' The kid who wanted to be an assassin and stray away from the family tradition of becoming a spy. The same damn kid you haven't seen for 15 fucking years.

Now here he is, towering over you at 190 cm but that same cat-like smile that you remember from your childhood.

"Fuck! I think you broke my wrist!" Your ex-boyfriend yells out in pain.

The black-haired man stares down at him with the same expression, "Better get that checked out before it's stuck like that forever!"

Your shitty ex just grumbles to himself before disappearing back into the crowded area while holding his injured arm.

Nagumo turns to you, averting his head to meet your shorter height, "It's been awhile. Hasn't it, [Name]?"

Your body trembling a bit at the sudden interaction. Oh God, what can you say to him? This was the same pipsqueak who you played tagged with at recess and beat up during sparring sessions. And since when did he get all those tattoos? Did he join a rock band or something?

You clear your throat to rid of your racing thoughts before looking up at him, "Yoichi...Didn't think I would see you again after all these years." There was a distinct awkward aura that surrounded your presence.

He laughed before playfully patting your head, "Aww, what's wrong? Do I look like a ghost to you or something?"

Your heats up in a flustered red, "No! It's just-- I haven't seen you since you were…shorter."

"Oh?" He questions your statement. He bends down a bit to cater to your height with his hands in his pocket, "Well, I can't stay small forever, [Name]."

Your brow twitches as you feel the hint of smugness escapes his champagne tinted breath, "well no duh, I always knew you were gonna grow at one point."

Your eyes scan along his looming stature, "at least not like this..."

He laughs at your flustered response, "Guess the universe took pity on me and decided to give me a few more centimeters to make up for it."

A few centimeters was an understatement. He knew he wasn't the same twelve year old boy who was shorter than you and got his ass kicked by you in sparring competitions.

You took in his appearance --- tall, mature looking. Crap, why's your heart beating so fast? Its been a decade and a half; and now that he's an adult, he had a major change in looks. That once baby face turned into a man and short stubby legs that turned long and strong. God, it didn't help those tattoos looked really good on him.

Get a grip, [Name]! He's just the same boy he was all those years ago! Naive, whiny, tiny....

"I bet you're still a crybaby," you say with a smirk. You wanted to clear away the weird tension in the air.

He smirks, only more deviously, "Come on, Chihuahua Girl, I can see it on your face. You're staring a little too hard to think I'm just that same boy."

Your heart beats faster, "H-Hey! You can't just rebrand my nickname that I created for you." You cross your arms as you swerve your head away from him to hide the redness on your face.

He lowers his head, his warm breathing fanning the shell of your ear, "I've grown in other places you know."

Christ on a stick, does this man want you to have a heart attack right now? Your fingers clutch around your arm to make sure your heart doesn't burst right out of your chest, "Don't be so lewd, you were always such a weirdo, y'know that?"

He retracts his head before that flirtatious smirk is then replaced with a hearty laugh, "Just teasing you, Chihuahua Girl."

You huff, "You are such a kid."

He smiles back, "But I can be a man for you~" He winks at you while sticking his tongue out like a jester.

You roll your eyes, "Whatever, I'm getting a drink."

His eyes lingers on your form as you depart from the conversation to flag down a waiter holding a tray of champagne glasses. He couldn't help but smile to himself, he knew you were attracted to this new look of his. Although you both attended the same school, you both resided in different departments. You found yourself drawn to long distance shots, but he strived for the front lines of hand to hand combat.

As a child, he knew he wanted to be an assassin. Growing up under a long lineage in the spy profession, he considered himself the black sheep of the family. In the process, he was often criticized by family members to carry on the tradition and give up his focus on assassin work. Hiding in the shadows was just not him. And then you showed up. Carrying him on your back as you led him out the dark tunnel. Sure, you would tease him for his fragility and short stature. Yet, under that tough demeanor was a golden heart.

At recess, he would get jealous when other kids fought over you on who would play tag with you. And when you flipped him over on the cushion landings during sparring matches, his eyes widened in fascination at your skills. You became his crush, but you saw him as the little boy who would follow you around like a puppy.

He wanted to be the man for you.

After chugging down your third glass of champagne, you discard it on a passing by waiter's tray. You turn around to be met with Nagumo's tall stature yet again. Christ, you forgot he grew up in a family of spies.

"Whaddya want now, crybaby?" Your face a bit flushed from the alcohol. "Came to revel in my demise?" You look at him with an arched brow.

He shoots an innocent smile at you, "Nothing, just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

You scoff, you were clearly a little tipsy but not enough to make you act like a drunken mess, "Stupid? I'm an adult, not a sorority girl at a party."

"Technically, sorority girls are adults," he teases.

You roll your eyes at his comeback, "Haha…Very fucking funny, asshole." You mock his movements.

He grabs your hand, before reaching them towards his face ---- kissing your knuckles before giving you a wink. You felt your face starts to heat up, and no, it's not just the alcohol. When did he get so flirty? Especially with you.

"You- You think that just because you got this sexy glow up, you think you're hot shit!" Your voice breaking as you reprimand him for his teasing behavior.

"Oh?" His voice lowering down into that gruff, sexy tone that could make a girl weak in the knees. He lowers his head, closing the comfortable distance between the two of you, "you think I'm sexy?"

Ba-dump.

"I guess you wouldn't mind if I called you sexy too, Chihuahua," His voice laced with the devil's temptation.

You look up at him with wide eyes, shocked by his bold words. Stealing your nickname was one thing, but also calling you hot was something else. You attempt to suppress your arising (sexual) desire for this man. When you first arrived to the gathering, all you wanted was some free food and then go home to finish up the piles of documents your boss laid out on your desk.

Shit, this is bad. You need to get out of here.

But his grip on you stays. He didn't want you to leave just left. After all, you can't end a party without a bang.

"[Name], you don't understand how long I've wanted you. After all those years worrying I would die before seeing your smile again, you've been right under my nose this whole time." His tone more serious than usual. He was desperate for you and he wanted you to attach the leash on his collar.

"Yoichi-"

He places a finger on your lips, shushing you before you could speak another word.

"I just want to show you how much a man I've become over these past 15 years."

You feel your breath becoming heavier, quicker than the sound of your heartbeat. Is this real? Would you realize this is a dream if you pinched yourself? Oh who were you kidding, this is reality. Your mind is doing jumping jacks from the twist of events that unraveled in one evening. God, you can't hold it back. You wanted him so bad. A fruit of temptation.

Fuck it. Fuck the alcohol. Fuck your shitty past. And fuck this party.

You stand on your toes, whispering in his ear sensually, "If you want to show me, there's a broom closet down the hall."

You pull back to see his cheeks tinted with red, he clearly wasn't expecting you to be so forward with your arousal.

He smirks at you, still looking down on your short height, "Sounds like a plan, gorgeous."

Since when did he become so...hot?

---

The room was dim, only being illuminated by a single flickering lightbulb. Sounds of cleaning equipment shuffled beneath your feet as your hands tangled with his midnight locks, gasping for air as he stole your breath with his lips enveloped with yours.

His lips trail on your neck, rendering a soft moan as he nipped the sensitive skin. He was becoming drunk on your temptation and he seeks to drink every last drop.

"Y-Yoichi," you words drawling from your heavy breaths.

"Mmm, yeah, say my name like that one more time," as his grip on your waist tightens. He loves how you call out his name as you desperately hold onto whatever dignity you had still in you.

His hand trails up towards the zipper of your top, slowly pulling it down as he lays hickey's across your neck and collar bone. His hands gripping the sides of your torso as they appreciated the curves of your body.

Sweet moans fill his ears as his hands become more possessive of your body — luring you more into his touch like a sailor to a siren. All guilty thoughts thrown out the window as you satiate the taste of your once childhood best friend.

Your hands hastily latch onto his shirt buttons, sloppy unbuttoning them as if it were your last meal on earth. As you unfasten the last button, you rip open the once neat formal shirt to reveal rigid muscles, painted in ink. Hands placed in a. praying position on his left pectoral, and a quote written along his right. The man was completely covered in tattoos.

His chest rising up and down in shallow breaths as he watches you stare in awe at his cut body. He smirks, “Get a good look, babe?” He swipes his thumb across your lips.

His eyes flickers down your now disheveled clothing, licking his lips in hunger as his mind runs with dangerous thoughts. You wanted to devour his image whole and he knew that.

You glide your scarred finger along his painted torso, feeling the soft yet hard ridges of his abs that provide proof of his years of hard work.

Teasingly, you feel the cold metal of his belt as you meticulously work at his straps to remove the restraints of his dark slacks. After successfully, removing the leather straps that wrap around his waist, it didn't take long before his pants drop to the floor, revealing...a Versace thong?

“Yoichi, what the hell are you wearing?” You shoot him a look of surprise and concern.

His eyes glinting with amusement, a wide grin forming on his face, “What? Can’t a man have his own displays of wealth?”

You roll your eyes, always the same smug kid you remember. “Fine, you got a condom?”

His smile widening even more, “A man never goes unprepared.” Dangling the golden packet over your head.

In a swift motion, you pull down the expensive thong to reveal his erect cock recoiling in front of your face.

You gulp, a wave of nervousness washed over you. A part of you wanted to back out and call it a night. But a part of you knew that you were already far too in and it would be a waste to give up such a golden opportunity.

You grasp onto the base, stroking it a few times as your hand took in his size. Just imagining the stretch of his cock inside you was causing your panties to become soaked by the minute.

Heavy grunts and moans slip from his lips as you continued your silent assault on his cock, a pearl of pre-cum peaking from the slit of his tip.

The man had enough, he harshly grabbed your wrist before pivoting your body against the wall. Your face colliding with the wall as you felt his warm member rub between your cheeks, teasing your wet hole.

“Y-Yoichi-”

Your words interrupted by the sound of his palm colliding with your ass. Your body flinched at the sudden painful yet pleasurable action. Who knew the Nagumo Yoichi could rough you up like this?

“Is that the game you want to play, [Name]? Tryna make me cum without my dick stuffing your wet pussy?” His words sounding darker than his usual bright demeanor.

He lands another slap to your ass.

You flinch again, “Fu- I-I’ll be good.”

He chuckles, “That’s what I like to hear.”

He quickly tears open the golden metallic wrapper with his teeth, wrapping the condom over his erected cock.

“Now open those pretty legs for me.” A cheshire smile forming on his face.

…

The small closet had soon become filled with the lewd sounds of your intimacy. The sounds of skin slapping as Nagumo drilled his cock into your pussy.

You could barely hold your own weight as you felt your arms giving out with each hard thrust. His cock stretching you so delicious, it had you seeing stars. The way his tip continuously hit your g-spot couldn’t stop your moans from spilling out of your mouth. You were sure if someone passed by the closet, it would be over for the two of you. Yet, you couldn’t see yourself ever stopping.

You muffle your whines and moans to the best of your abilities, but Nagumo’s ungodly stamina had only been making it quite difficult. “Hah- Come on, gorgeous…don’t you wanna- ah fuck!” His words echoing in your ear as he marks crescents on your hips.

“Yo- ah! I can’t take it, I’m gonna cum!” You plead as you look up at him with glossy eyes. Fuck, the way you look at him with those doe eyes of yours just made him want to devour you whole. His movements had only quickened as he reaches his peak. You bite down on your arm, your walls desperately hugging his shaft as you reach the high.

A deep curse rumbles from his throat as his seed fills the latex condom. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan into the flesh of your arm as you let the bliss of your orgasm wash over you. You felt hazy, your body on the verge of collapsing from ecstasy. But Nagumo keeps a gentle hand on your stomach to prevent you from slipping.

“Come on, Chihuahua Girl, let’s get cleaned up and I can drive you home. I could tell you didn’t wanna be here form the start,” a genuine smile plastered on his face.

A weak laugh escapes your lips, “I’d like that actually, thanks.” He ruffles your hair as he chuckles at your cuteness.

As you wipe yourself off with the paper towels from the shelf, you look up at him with a teasing grin.

“I think we should catch up sometimes, with our clothes on this time, Chihuahua Boy.”

He laughs at your reference of his old nickname. “Alright, it’s a deal!”

Meanwhile, the janitor sighs as he passes by the closet for the third time while wheeling the winger mop bucket, “Sometimes, I wish I didn’t have an extraordinary memory.”