T-Minus 16 Pt. 2

Liam finally pulls out, leaving behind a sticky, messy warmth inside you as you both catch your breath. For a moment, neither of you speak—just the sound of heavy panting filling the room as you lay there, utterly spent.

And then Liam—still hanging on to your thighs—gives your leg a final, affectionate squeeze before rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh.

“Well,” he mutters, staring at the ceiling. “That was... an objectively good life decision.”

You snort, breathless. “Oh? So skipping class to fuck your girlfriend was a wise choice?”

“The wisest.”

You chuckle as you reach down, adjusting your panties back into place. They were never fully off—just pushed aside to let Liam have his way with you—but now they’re soaked, sticking to you in the most indecent way. Liam notices immediately, his eyes flicking down before he smirks.

“You sure those are even wearable at this point?”

You give him a pointed look. “Whose fault is that?”

“Not mine.” He grins, already reaching for his boxers and sliding them on before sitting up. “You could’ve stopped me, y’know.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up as well, still a little wobbly from the absolute wrecking you just got. “Yeah, right. Like that was ever gonna happen.”

Liam chuckles, running a hand through his messy, post-sex bedhead before standing. “C’mon. We should probably brush our teeth before we end up talking each other into round two.”

You laugh and follow him to the shared dorm bathroom, your oversized t-shirt hanging loose over your body, barely covering anything, your panties still clinging dangerously low on your hips.

Liam glances at you in the mirror as you both grab your toothbrushes. “You know,” he muses as he squeezes some toothpaste onto his brush, “I think your shirt got shorter since we left the bed.”

You look at your reflection, then at him, raising an eyebrow. “And I think your brain got smaller since we left the bed.”

Liam grins. “Still big enough to know that’s an A+ view.”

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes as you start brushing your teeth, standing beside him in front of the mirror. There’s something strangely intimate about it— the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, watching each other through the glass, toothpaste foaming between lazy smirks and playful nudges.

At one point, Liam makes an exaggerated "bleh" noise and sticks out his toothpaste-covered tongue, and you almost **** on your brush.

"You're disgusting," you laugh through a mouthful of minty foam.

"You're dating me," he counters, raising an eyebrow. "So what's that say about you?"

You pause, pretending to consider. “That I have horrible taste in men.”

Liam places a dramatic hand over his heart. “Wow. And here I was gonna make you coffee. Rethinking everything.”

You snicker, rinsing your mouth. “No, no, you were gonna make coffee while I shower.”

“Yeah, well.” He leans against the sink, watching you. “Now I’m thinking you can suffer without it.”

You give him a sweet, innocent look. “Or—” You pause, suddenly feeling shy, but you push through, dropping your gaze for a second before looking up at him again. “We could... shower together?”

Liam blinks.

You immediately regret everything. “I-I mean, people do that, right? I just— I’ve heard about it, and I thought—” You trail off, suddenly very interested in the floor.

Liam stares for a second longer before grinning. “Wait, you wanna shower together? Are you hitting on me right now?”

You groan, covering your face. “Forget it, forget I said anything—”

Liam laughs, reaching out to tug your hands away from your face. “No, no, I’m in. Definitely in. Just shocked, Miss Easily Flustered.”

You huff, turning to start the shower, pretending your face isn’t on fire. “Just take your damn boxers off and get in.”

Liam watches as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs. The second they come off, a sticky stream of cum trickles from your pussy, trailing down your inner thigh.

Liam, of course, immediately notices.

“Oh, damn,” he whistles, leaning against the sink. “Guess I really did a number on you.”

You roll your eyes, about to wipe it away—but then an idea hits you.

Before Liam can say anything else, you drag your fingers through the mess, scooping up the thick, creamy evidence of what he did to you. And without breaking eye contact, you bring your finger to your lips and slowly, deliberately lick it clean.

Liam freezes.

His grin flickers for a second—just a second—before he bursts out laughing. “Holy shit, babe. That was actually hot as hell.”

You smirk, licking your lips. “Well, it is yours.”

Liam shakes his head, clearly loving every second of this. “God, you’re dangerous.”

“Mm. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Liam laughs, then finally tugs off his boxers, stepping toward the shower. “Alright, menace. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”

You smirk as you step in after him, letting the hot water cascade over both of you.

The moment you step under the warm spray of the shower, a sigh escapes your lips. The water cascades over your shoulders, soaking your hair, trickling down your bare skin in gentle rivulets. It feels amazing, washing away the last remnants of your morning sin—but also, standing here, naked and dripping, with Liam only inches away, is giving you an entirely different kind of heat.

Liam steps under the spray beside you, running his hands through his messy brown hair, drenching it fully. Droplets cling to his skin, streaming down the sharp angles of his face, his broad shoulders, his lean but toned chest—all the way down to where the water runs over the defined lines of his abdomen.

His cock is soft now, hanging naturally between his thighs—but he’s still absolutely gorgeous.

He catches you staring and grins. “Hey, just so you know, you’re not allowed to judge me in this state.” He gestures downward. “It’s cold in here.”

You raise a teasing eyebrow. “It’s literally warm water.”

“Yeah, but still.” He steps closer, placing his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs brushing your damp skin. “Just gimme a minute, I’ll be back to my full potential.”

You snicker, leaning into his touch. “Didn’t think you were the self-conscious type.”

“Not usually. But you just swallowed my cum in front of me like it was your morning protein shake. Kinda feel like I need to perform now.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders. “Relax, babe. I promise I don’t love you only for your dick.”

Liam smirks. “Just mostly.”

“Oh, absolutely. Like, ninety percent.”

Liam snorts, pulling you closer until your bodies are fully pressed together, skin wet and warm. His fingers slide up your waist, over your curves, tracing the shape of you like he’s mapping your body from memory.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His palms slide along your hips, your waist, the soft swell of your ass—appreciating every inch, reverent in the way he explores you. “God, I love how you feel.”

You shiver, despite the heat. His touch is so firm but so gentle.

His eyes travel lower, admiring how the water glistens off your skin, highlighting the soft curves of your stomach, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist.

Something about the way the droplets gleam in the low light makes Liam pause, an old memory sparking in his head.

He tilts his head, grinning. “You know... you like real good all wet like this.”

You arch an eyebrow, suspicious. “Why do I feel like that’s not just a compliment?”

Liam chuckles, sliding his hands up your ribs, brushing the undersides of your breasts. “It’s just... kinda reminds me of that time I fucked Aphrodite covered in lube.”

You groan. “Oh my God.”

Liam grins wider. “And she actually said yes.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You are such a weirdo. But, honestly? Kinda hot.”

“Oh, absolutely.” His thumbs brush over your nipples, still wet and pebbled from the heat. “You are glistening, babe. Like a literal goddess.”

You snicker, tilting your chin up in mock arrogance. “I am a goddess.”

Liam leans in, kissing your jaw, trailing his lips down to your neck. “Mmm. My goddess.”

Your breath catches as his mouth lingers against your skin, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. The heat between you is shifting— still playful, still teasing, but growing thicker, heavier.

Liam cups your ass, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

But then, just as you start melting into it, he pulls back, smirking.

“You’re getting distracted,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flutter open. “Me? You’re the one feeling me up like a horny teenage boy.”

Liam grins, grabbing the body wash. “Well, can you blame me?”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him as he lathers up his hands and starts rubbing them over your body. The feeling of his soapy, slick palms gliding over your wet skin is damn near sensual.

He takes his time, running his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, across your stomach. When he cups your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples, you give a tiny, involuntary gasp.

Liam pauses, watching your expression with a slow, smug smirk.

“Oh?”

You glare. “Shut up.”

He chuckles, rubbing slow, firm circles over your breasts before dragging his touch lower, down to your hips, your thighs, between your legs—

“Alright, alright,” you swat his hands away, flustered. “I see your game, and I’m not playing.”

Liam laughs, reaching for the shampoo. “Fine, fine. But for the record, you started it.”

The rest of the shower is filled with lazy, intimate touches, stolen kisses, and lingering smiles. He helps you wash your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles, and you do the same for him, enjoying the closeness of it all.

There’s something incredibly intimate about it—more than sex, more than teasing. It’s just you and him, taking care of each other.

Eventually, when the water starts cooling, you both step out, grabbing towels and drying off.

Liam watches as you wrap your towel snugly around yourself, his gaze lingering.

“Y’know,” he muses, rubbing a towel through his damp hair. “If showering together is gonna be a regular thing, we might never make it to class on time.”

You smirk, tying your towel. “Who said I cared about class?”

Liam laughs, tossing his towel over his shoulder. “God, I love you.”

You beam, taking his hand as you both head back toward the bedroom to get dressed.

By the time you both step back into the bedroom, Liam is half-dry and already tugging on his boxers. You, on the other hand, are still wrapped in nothing but your towel, feeling oddly shy as you linger near your dresser, watching him move around the room.

Liam, being a guy, takes all of thirty seconds to get dressed. Boxers. Jeans. A plain t-shirt. Boom. Done.

Meanwhile, you’re staring into your drawer like it holds the secrets of the universe.

Liam notices your hesitation and raises an eyebrow. “What, suddenly forgot how to put clothes on?”

You bite your lip, hesitating for a second before, in a small voice, you say, “Do you… wanna pick my outfit for today?”

Liam pauses mid-stretch. “Wait, what?”

Your face burns. “I just… dunno, feeling kinda…” You twirl a damp strand of hair around your finger. “Just wanna see what you’d pick.”

Liam blinks at you, then grins. “Oh, absolutely not.”

Your jaw drops. “What?!”

Liam laughs, ruffling his damp hair. “Babe, I know nothing about women’s fashion. You could tell me a ‘maxi dress’ and a ‘bodycon’ were the same thing, and I’d believe you.”

You cross your arms. “Yeah, but you do know what looks good on a woman.”

Liam smirks. “I mean, yeah, I know what looks good on you.”

You huff, pouting. “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” he steps closer, tapping your nose, “if I start going through your clothes, you’ll start trying them on, then changing, then modeling them for me—”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Liam snickers. “It’s a great thing. Too great. We’ll miss our next lecture too.”

He’s right. If Liam starts picking outfits, you’re not going anywhere. Not when he looks at you like he wants to devour you, not when he’ll inevitably pull you in for “just one kiss” that turns into ten.

With a dramatic sigh, Liam snatches his phone and wallet from his desk. “Alright, babe, I’m heading to the kitchen. You—” he gestures vaguely at your towel-wrapped form, “—put some clothes on.”

But just as he turns to leave, you grab his wrist.

He stops mid-step, looking back at you in curious amusement.

You smirk, pulling him closer. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Liam raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

You lean in, your bare skin brushing against his clothed chest. “If you refuse to pick my outfit,” you whisper, lips just barely grazing his, “then you don’t get to kiss me after I’m dressed.”

Liam snorts. “That’s your big threat?”

You grin. “You don’t want to ruin my lipstick later, right?”

Liam pauses, considering. Then, in a rare moment of sincerity, he cups your face and murmurs, “Babe, you’re literally the most affectionate person I’ve ever met. You’re not not gonna kiss me.”

Your heart stutters.

Damn him. Why does he always do that? Just casually say the sweetest thing like it’s nothing? Like it’s just a fact, the same way he’d say water is wet or gravity exists or you are mine.

You swallow, feeling weirdly warm.

And, of course, Liam follows it up with his usual shit-eating grin.

“Besides,” he adds, leaning in close, “we’re not gonna be able to resist each other anyway. So, nice try.”

You huff, releasing him with an eye-roll. “Fine. But next time, you’re picking.”

Liam grins, pressing a quick peck to your nose before slipping out the door.

As he disappears down the hall, you shake your head to yourself, unable to stop the fond smile spreading across your lips.

Yeah. Next time.

The bedroom feels quieter now that Liam’s gone, his absence leaving behind a strange sort of stillness. It’s rare for him to be somewhere else while you’re still here—usually, it’s both of you rushing around together, bickering about who stole whose sock or why Liam is taking so long just to fix his hair when it’s already perfectly messy anyway.

You shake your head at the thought and turn toward your dresser.

Alright. Time to get dressed.

Liam may have refused to pick an outfit for you, but you still want to look cute. Casual, sure, but effortlessly pretty—like you didn’t put too much thought into it, even though you absolutely are.

First things first: underwear.

You tug open the drawer, fingers trailing over the neatly folded fabric, considering your options. Something lacey? Something practical? You settle on a matching black bra and panty set, because why not? It’s a good confidence boost—even if no one’s seeing it (well, except Liam, who, let’s be honest, will eventually).

Bra first—you slip the straps over your shoulders, reach behind to hook it in place, and adjust the cups until everything feels just right. Then the panties—simple, comfortable, but still flattering, hugging your hips just enough to make you feel put together.

Now for actual clothes.

You tap a finger against your chin, going over the options in your head. After a few seconds of deliberation, you settle on a soft, dusty blue knit sweater. It’s cropped enough to be cute but not too short, with sleeves that extend just past your wrists. The fabric is light but cozy, perfect for the in-between weather.

You pull it over your head, smoothing it down over your torso.

Next, jeans.

You dig through your drawer before pulling out a pair of high-waisted, light-wash skinny jeans. They hug your curves just right, snug around your thighs and hips, but comfortable enough that you can actually sit through lectures without regretting your life choices.

You step into them, shimmying them up your legs before fastening the button and zipper.

Shoes?

You glance at the floor, spotting your usual go-to: a pair of white sneakers. Reliable, simple, goes with everything. You grab them and set them aside for later—no point in putting them on yet.

With your outfit sorted, you move on to your hair.

It’s still damp from the shower, and you don’t have anything fancy like a curling iron or a blow-dryer (which you make a mental note to maybe invest in one day). For now, you grab your comb and start working through the knots, gently detangling as your hair dries naturally.

Once it feels smooth and manageable, you give it a final fluff and let it fall however it wants. Effortless. Casual. Pretty.

Last step: makeup.

You’re not going for anything dramatic—just a natural, fresh-faced look.

A light layer of concealer to even out your skin tone. A touch of blush to bring some warmth to your cheeks. Mascara to make your lashes pop. And finally, a subtle, rosy-tinted lip balm—something soft and pretty, nothing too high-maintenance.

You study yourself in the mirror, tilting your head.

Cute. Simple. But still put together.

Satisfied, you grab your sneakers, slip them on, and head for the kitchen.

Liam is standing by the counter, coffee in one hand, scrolling through his phone with the other. As soon as he hears your footsteps, he glances up— and freezes.

His eyes skim over you slowly, taking in the whole look.

And then, just like that, he’s grinning. “Damn, babe.”

You lift an eyebrow, biting back a smile. “Damn, babe… what?”

Liam sets his phone down as you walks over to him, his eyes still drinking you in. “You just—” he exhales, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. “Every day, man. Just out here looking like a dream.”

You snort. “Smooth.”

But then you loop your arms around his shoulders, tilting your face up to his, and the teasing look in his eyes softens—just a little.

“I mean it.”

And then you kiss him.

Deep. Slow. A little bit possessive, like you're staking a claim. His hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and for a second, you forget that you’re supposed to be heading to class soon.

By the time he pulls away, your lips feel kiss-drunk and swollen.

You lick them absentmindedly, then sigh dramatically. “Well, there goes my lip balm.”

Liam grins, totally unrepentant. “Worth it.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop yourself from smiling. “I’m gonna have to reapply, you know.”

Liam shrugs. “That’s fine. Gives me a reason to kiss it off again.”

You laugh, lightly shoving his chest before grabbing your coffee.

Yeah. Wholesome mornings like this? You could get used to them.