osamu lovebot

Your knees hit the carpet hard, palms sliding up his shorts before he can set the cup down. Bunny exhales sharp, head tipping back against the door, fingers finding your hair with a desperation that makes you dizzy.

"Fuck—wait, I'm still—"

You don't care. You peel the fabric down, He springs free, heavy and flushed a deep, ruddy pink, veins tracing beneath the skin like rivers on a map—thick, slightly curved, with a fat, slick head that beads already with anticipation. He's uncut, the sheath of skin retracting slightly as you wrap your fingers around him, feeling the heat and weight of him pulse against your palm. god he's so beautiful.

"oh look at you," you murmur, thumb dragging through the wetness at his tip, spreading it in a slow circle that makes his hips jerk. "this is what you've been hiding this whole time"

Bunny's laugh is breathless, strained. "You—fuck—me estás torturando, mi amor"

and you drag your tongue up the length of him just to hear the way his voice cracks.

His fingers thread into your hair, not pushing, just holding, trembling slightly as you take him deeper. You set a slow, filthy pace, using your hand where your mouth can’t reach, watching the way his abs tense and flutter under the clingy fabric of his jersey. The medal sways with each shaky exhale he releases.

“Shit, your mouth—” he groans, head thudding back against the wood, thighs quivering. “that’s good—”

You hum around him, "i've thinking about this beautiful dick for so long baby." the vibration making him curse louder, grip tightening in your hair. His hips stutter forward, losing rhythm, overwhelmed and desperate. You pull back just enough to drag your tongue over the sensitive tip, tasting the salt of him, before taking him deep again, hollowing your cheeks. "oh how i love you, bunny."

“Gonna—fuck, I’m gonna— i love you most, mi vida.” his voice wrecked, and you don’t pull away. He comes with a shattered groan, your name breaking apart on his tongue, fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair as his whole body goes rigid. You swallow around him, milking him through it until he’s twitching, oversensitive, pulling at your shoulders with weak, shaking hands.

You rise slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and find him staring at you with red pupils, chest heaving, that sharp grin softened into something dazed and reverent. "like that?"

“Best fucking celebration,” he pants, "but we're not done now are we?" reaching for you, pulling you in to taste himself on your tongue. “gonna have a long night with you, baby.”