Ellie

The Bonten HQ was unusually peaceful that morning. No yelling, no tension, no blood.

Even more shocking—Mikey walked in smiling.

Not the neutral, unreadable smirk he usually wore like armor.

No.

A genuine, relaxed smile. Hands in his pockets. Hair slightly tousled. The faintest mark on his neck (no one dared point that out).

The rest of Bonten blinked like owls.

“…Am I hallucinating?” Ran muttered, nudging Rindou with his elbow. “Is he smiling?”

Rindou leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. “Something’s off. He’s either planning a massacre… or he got laid.”

Kakucho coughed into his hand to hide a laugh. “He’s humming. He never hums.”

“Should we ask?” Mochi whispered.

“Do you want to die?” Takeomi deadpanned.

The door opened again, and you walked in, wearing Mikey’s hoodie, hair still a little messy, cheeks flushed from the morning chill. You carried a bento bag in one hand.

The boys collectively stared.

“Good morning,” you greeted sweetly.

“Morning, (Y/N)-chan,” they chorused like students greeting a teacher.

Mikey walked over, plucked the bento from your hand with one hand and placed his other around your waist, pulling you in without hesitation.

The others watched as Mikey kissed your temple.

Right. In. Front. Of. Them.

Koko dropped his pen.

“…So it was sex,” Rindou whispered under his breath.

You blinked. “Hm?”

“Nothing!” they all said in unison.

You tilted your head but didn’t question it, smiling softly at your husband. “I put extra rice in yours.”

“Good,” Mikey said. “You’ll need to feed me later.”

“Oh,” you blinked, flustered. “O-okay.”

The rest of Bonten silently screamed.

As you left the room, Mikey turned back to them.

“What?”

Everyone straightened like soldiers.

“Nothing, boss!”

But once he left too, the silence broke.

Ran leaned in. “Who knew the key to keeping Mikey sane… was literally keeping him satisfied.”

You nod, your fingers finally slipping the belt free and moving to undo his zipper. "I've never been more serious about anything, Shin," you whisper, voice soft, breathless. "I want this. I want you."

You push his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock, watching as it springs free—thick, flushed and leaking at the tip. Your underwear quickly follows, your hand reaching down to tuck it to the side with a soft rustle.

Shinichiro stares for a moment, breath growing shallow like he can’t believe this is actually happening. His hands remain on your hips for a moment, unsure what to do, where to start, until you take a hold of one and guide it between your thighs.

Your body's response is immediate, hips bucking against his touch, your eyes meeting his when they finally flicker up to your face. His fingertips start exploring, a little clumsy at first, but he finds your slit and runs two fingers slowly up your heat, gathering slick.

He parts your folds carefully, his thumb stretching to brush gently over your clit, tentative, testing.

"Fuck, yes— right there, just like that," you jolt, a broken moan tumbling from your lips as he does it again, slower this time. His other hand steadies you at the waist while he keeps going, his fingers dipping down to your entrance and pressing one inside.

"Fuck, you're perfect." he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his finger curling slightly, mimicking the things he saw in his favorite porn videos.

He can tell it's working from the way you start grinding down on his hand, desperate for more. "Add another— please. Another."

He obeys instantly, slipping a second finger inside. The stretch is just enough to make your thighs quiver, your forehead dropping against his as you ride his fingers slowly, moaning and whimpering with every movement. He watches you the whole time, mesmerized, his cock twitching against his stomach and leaking more precum with each filthy little sound you make.

His thumb eventually resumes its circles on your clit, syncing with the thrust of his fingers, and it isn't long before you’re clinging to his shoulders, fingertips leaving crescent shaped indents into his skin. "I'm g-gonna—fuck, baby, i'm gonna come,"

And with one last stroke over your sweet spot, you're sent over the edge, your walls clenching hard around his fingers as your body trembles in his arms, your moans muffled against his forehead as you kiss it. Shin keeps moving through it, gentle and slow, helping you ride it out.

"Can I…?" he breathes out, head tipping back to look at you through hooded eyes. "Can I be inside you now?"

You give him your consent and Shinichiro swears he’s never moved faster in his life.

His fingers slip from you, making you whine in protest, but then he’s gripping his cock at the base, stroking once, twice, before dragging the tip through your slick folds, rubbing against your clit and making you tremble in his lap.

"I won't last," he warns, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow bursts. "fuck, I’m sorry. I’m gonna fucking burst as soon as I’m in."

He’s trying so damn hard to keep it together but you already have him teetering on the edge before you’ve even taken him in, so much that he has to squeeze his eyes shut and breathe before he completely embarrasses himself.

He doesn't see it but you nod in response, your own breath catching in your throat as you lift yourself up, one hand taking over to wrap around the base of his cock and guide him. He twitches in your palm, looking almost in pain with how hard he is.

"It’s okay," you whisper out loud, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I don't mind."

He watches as you line him up, the swollen head brushing against your slick entrance, and both of you moan at the contact. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you take advantage of it to sink down slowly.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck—" His words cut off into a strangled groan, his fingers digging into your skin in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

You slide down inch by inch, your lips parting in silent moans as he stretches you open. His forehead drops against your shoulder when you finally bottom out, jaw clenched, sweat beading at his brow.

"Wait. Stop. Stop— don’t move," he chokes out, "Fuck, I’m gonna come. Give me a second."

You still, swallowing down a moan as you sit fully seated on him, hips flush to his, the head of his cock reaching deep inside, twitching and throbbing in pain and pleasure.

"It’s okay," you repeat, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead, pressing a lingering kiss there. "It's okay. Just breathe, baby,"

Shinichiro nods, gulping air, trying to will his body to calm down. His fingers trace lazy circles into your skin, grounding himself in the feel of you. He exhales shakily and finally opens his eyes after a minute that feels like forever, meeting your gaze. "Okay," he whispers, voice thick. "Okay, I’m good now."

Then, finally, you start to move—setting a gentle rhythm at first. You ride him in slow, sensual rolls of your hips, and Shinichiro meets your movements with timid thrusts of his own. He bites down on his bottom lip, hard, mortified by the idea of spilling his load barely a minute in, but he doesn’t stop you again. His hands roam to try and distract himself instead; up your sides, over your ribs, thumbs brushing along the curve of your breasts.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, riding him gently, your body melting into his. “Fuck, baby, you're so big. So fucking deep inside me.”

“Don’t say that,” he whines softly, forehead pressing to your chest, and you laugh— your breath catching with the rhythm, fingers carding gently through his damp hair.

“You don't have to hold back,” you whisper into his hair. "Come whenever you need to, baby. It’s okay, I promise."

Shin lets out a broken moan at that, his hips thrusting up into you a little more confidently once, twice, three times, his control eventually slipping. Then he's whining out your name, over and over again in times with his thrusts, faster and more desperate each time. You tighten around him in response, clenching deliberately, your hand slipping to his cheek and guiding his face up so he's looking at you. His eyes are wide and glassy, lips parted to let out the hottest moans.

Your thumb brushes the single tear that slips down his cheek, catching it before it falls.

"I'm coming— please. Please." he moans, the words spilling from him like he can’t stop them. "I can't— hah, I'm coming,"

Then he’s gone. His body locks up beneath you, his cock pulsing deep inside as he spills into you with a drawn out, guttural cry. He clings to you like he’s coming apart, face buried against your chest, a mess of soft whimpers and trembling limbs, his skin burning at the touch.

You hold him through it, continuing to rock your hips gently, kissing his hair and whispering soothing things as he comes down.