Wood Morning

The obnoxious blare of your alarm drags you out of sleep like a vengeful demon, and for a moment, you’re convinced that waking up should be illegal.

You groan into your pillow, trying to will the sound away with sheer hatred alone. It does not work.

Liam, buried under the blanket beside you, grumbles something that sounds vaguely like “kill me” and smacks around blindly for your phone. He misses entirely, slapping the nightstand instead.

“Babe,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “That’s not my phone.”

“Shh,” he mutters, patting around again. He finds the phone this time and fumbles to silence the alarm, nearly knocking it off the nightstand in the process. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he flops back onto the pillow.

There’s a long pause. Neither of you move.

Then, Liam speaks again, voice barely above a mumble. “What if… we just didn’t go?”

You groan. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m just saying.” He stretches, sighing again. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Uh, failing?”

Liam hums. “Sounds fake.”

You chuckle, rolling over onto your side to face him. He’s still mostly hidden under the blanket, his hair a mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. It’s honestly kind of adorable.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” you tell him.

Liam opens one eye. “Thanks, babe. Love you too.”

You grin, reaching up to brush some of his hair out of his face. “Love you more.”

He makes a pleased noise at that, his lips curving lazily as he leans in to press a sleepy kiss to your lips.

You immediately push him away. “Oh my God, morning breath.”

Liam groans, flopping onto his back. “I was trying to be romantic.”

“That was romantic,” you say, laughing. “It was just also gross.”

“You wound me.” He dramatically clutches his chest like you just stabbed him.

Rolling your eyes, you roll back over and press a quick kiss to his lips. “There. Happy?”

He hums. “That’ll do.”

You stretch, arms reaching above your head, and that’s when you feel it—Liam’s morning wood pressing against your hip under the sheets.

Oh.

A slow, mischievous grin spreads across your face.

“Hmm,” you murmur, shifting slightly against him. “Liam…”

“Mm?” He sounds barely awake, completely unaware of the danger he’s in.

“You’ve got a little… situation going on down there.”

Liam blinks, groggy, then realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh. Yeah.” He shrugs sleepily. “Morning things.”

You hum, letting your hand slide down under the blanket, fingertips teasing along his stomach before brushing lightly over the outline of his erection.

Liam sucks in a breath. “Babe.”

“What?” you ask innocently, running your fingers along him again.

“You know exactly what.”

You bite your lip, pretending to think. “Well… I could help with that.”

His eyes open a little more, his lips twitching. “Oh, could you?”

“Mm-hmm.” You wrap your fingers lightly around him through the fabric of his boxers, giving a slow, teasing squeeze. “If you ask nicely.”

Liam lets out a quiet chuckle. “That’s dangerous, babe. You know we’ll be late if we do that.”

You stroke him lazily, feeling how hard he already is. “Sex with your very sexy girlfriend… or lecture. Is it really that hard a choice?” You pause, then smirk. “Or is it not that hard? Am I not that hot to you?”

Liam groans, throwing an arm over his face. “You’re way too smug about this.”

You squeeze him a little tighter. “Mmm, and yet, you’re not stopping me.”

“…Shut up.”

You giggle, shifting closer so your lips are right by his ear. “Come on, Liam. What’s your choice?”

He sighs dramatically. “Well, when you put it like that…” He reaches down, grabbing your wrist and tugging your hand away—only to roll over on top of you, caging you under him with a grin. “I think I’m gonna have to skip.”

You laugh. “Oh wow, really? What happened to being responsible?”

“I don’t remember ever being responsible.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your neck. “But I do remember my very sexy girlfriend offering to take care of something for me.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Mmm. And now you’re skipping class just for that?”

“Obviously.” His lips ghost over yours, teasing. “Best offer I’ve ever had.”

You smirk, hooking your leg around his waist. “Good choice.”

Liam grins against your lips. “I know.”

And then he kisses you—slow and deep, all thoughts of class long forgotten.

Liam doesn’t waste time. He tugs your shorts down, and you shimmy your hips to help him get them off, the fabric sliding down your legs with ease. His hands glide over your thighs as he does, thumbs pressing into your skin like he just wants to feel every inch of you. You can tell how eager he is, the way his breathing has deepened, the way his hands aren’t just moving but gripping—like he’s trying to keep himself from just taking you right then and there.

The thought makes heat bloom in your stomach.

You shift under him, your bare thighs now pressing against his clothed hips. Liam huffs out a breath, eyes flicking down between your legs as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. But instead of pulling them off, he simply slides the fabric aside, baring you to him.

There’s something so ridiculously hot about it—how he doesn’t even bother undressing you fully, how he’s so **** to be inside you that he doesn’t waste a second longer than necessary.

A shiver runs down your spine as the cool air brushes over your wetness. Liam notices, of course. His lips curve, and his fingers stroke over your inner thigh, teasing.

"Already soaked for me?" His voice is a low murmur, rough with sleep and arousal.

You roll your eyes, but the effect is ruined by how breathy you sound. "Maybe I just like the idea of skipping class."

Liam laughs under his breath. "Sure, babe. That’s definitely it."

Then he shuffles back just enough to shove his boxers down, freeing his cock. Your breath catches slightly at the sight of it—hard, thick, the flushed head already slick with anticipation. You know exactly where it’s going, and the thought makes your core tighten in anticipation.

Liam moves over you again, one hand gripping your thigh while the other guides himself to your entrance. You pull your legs back instinctively, spreading yourself open, inviting him in. His tip presses against you, teasing at first, and then—

He sinks in.

Your mouth falls open as the first stretch takes you, your body instinctively molding around him, gripping him, pulling him deeper. A shuddering breath leaves Liam as he slides in to the hilt, his forehead briefly dropping against yours.

"Fuck," he exhales. "You feel—God, babe."

You tug him down for a kiss before he can finish that thought, your lips pressing against his in something ****, something hungry. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your legs lock around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper.

Liam groans against your mouth, and then he starts to move.

His hips rock into you, slow at first, like he’s savoring it, like he’s making sure you feel every inch dragging against your walls. And fuck, do you feel it. The way he fills you just right, the way he pulls back only to slide in again, stroking along every sensitive spot inside you.

“Mmmm, oh yes, Liam,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady. It tumbles out like a prayer, **** and full of need.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, Luna.” Liam’s voice is rough, his breathing heavy as he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. He presses his forehead against yours for a moment, trying to catch his breath. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Oh, babe,” you murmur, your voice husky with arousal. “Your cock feels fucking amazing. Don’t you dare slow down, handsome.”

Liam grins at your words, a low chuckle escaping his lips as his hands slide to your hips, gripping tightly as he starts to drive deeper into you, his pace quickening. The sound of your bodies meeting, the slick wetness of your pussy taking him in, fills the room. It’s heady, primal, and everything you need right now.

Your thighs quiver with every thrust, the pleasure building in waves as he pushes you to new heights of ecstasy. The way his cock slides in and out of you feels so damn good—so right—that it’s impossible to think about anything else.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” You can’t help the way your voice cracks, the rawness of it matching the way your body responds to his thrusts.

He shifts again, this time grabbing your legs and pulling them up, resting your calves over his shoulders, and pulling your legs together so your thighs touch. The new angle has him hitting even deeper, and you let out an involuntary cry, your fingers gripping the sheets.

Liam’s hands tighten around your thighs, and his pace quickens, his cock now slamming into you with steady, relentless strokes. Your skin tingles with pleasure, every nerve alight, and all you can do is moan and cling to him as he fucks you like you’re the only thing that matters.

"Oh, fuck yes, Liam—" Your breath catches as another wave of pleasure rocks through you. "God, you’re glad we skipped class for this, right?"

Liam lets out a breathless chuckle. "Oh yeah. No regrets."

You smirk despite how breathless you are. "What, no jokes about me seducing you into academic failure?"

His lips curl. "Well, I was gonna say that if you sleep with Jake again, he could get us the lecture notes."

Your jaw drops. "Liam!"

He grins, not even remotely apologetic.

"You think I wanna be thinking about someone else when you’re literally fucking me this good?" You pout slightly, squeezing your calfs around his neck in mock offense.

He groans at the pressure, his grip tightening. "Okay, okay. Point taken." He kisses your knee in faux apology. "I’ll just focus on my very sexy, very distracting girlfriend instead."

“I hate you,” you say with a playful squeeze of your calves around his shoulders, teasing him.

“You love me,” he fires back without hesitation, his voice thick with both love and desire.

“Then keep fucking me like it, boyfriend,” you breathe, your body arching toward him as he continues to rock into you with unrelenting speed and precision.

Liam growls playfully, pulling you impossibly closer, his thrusts turning almost **** now, his body tense with the same need that’s burning inside you.

You smirk, running a hand lazily over his back as your lips graze the shell of his ear. “You know… You don't have to just imagine my tits, you could just take the shirt off,” you tease, voice sultry, though there’s a playful lilt to it. “No need to be shy about it, babe.”

Liam lifts his head, eyes glinting with amusement as he looks down at you. “Oh, I’m very aware of that,” he says, shifting his hips just enough to remind you he’s still inside you, the movement making you shiver. “But who said I needed to see them to appreciate them?”

You blink, caught off guard for a moment, but before you can fire back with another tease, he continues, his voice softer now, more sincere.

“You’re beautiful, tits or not,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. “But for the record—” he pauses, letting his gaze flicker downward for just a second, a smirk tugging at his lips— “Your C-cups are perfect, not gonna lie.”

The words hit you like a warm breeze, melting you from the inside out. It’s not just the compliment—it’s the way he says it, like it’s an indisputable fact, like you’re already perfect in his eyes. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you’re swooning, an involuntary little whimper escaping your lips.

Liam catches it immediately. “Oh my God,” he teases, grinning like he just won something. “Did you just swoon?”

You scowl playfully, shoving his shoulder. “No. Shut up.”

“You totally swooned.”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, babe,” he coos, clearly having the time of his life. “I knew you had a soft spot for me, but that was adorable.”

You groan, covering your face with both hands. “Why are you like this?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist before gently pulling your hands away. “Because you love it.”

And… yeah. You do.

But before you can get too caught up in how much you adore this stupid, nerdy, wonderful man, Liam shifts again, his hips rolling forward, and fuck, the sensation sends a spark of pleasure crackling up your spine.

You gasp softly, your body immediately reacting, and Liam smirks at your response. “See? This is how I shut you up.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you breathe, voice already shaky.

“I mean, I am,” he points out smugly, and before you can curse him out for his insufferable wit, his hands finally leave your thighs, sliding under your shirt. His palms are warm as they glide up your stomach, fingertips tracing the curves of your waist before moving higher, higher—

And then, finally, they reach your breasts.

His thumbs brush over your nipples, teasing them in slow, lazy circles as he keeps thrusting, each motion sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. You arch into his touch instinctively, your body chasing the sensation, and Liam groans as your walls clench around him in response.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his grip tightening slightly as he starts kneading your breasts in time with his thrusts. “You feel so fucking good.”

You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to leave little crescent-shaped marks in his skin. “Liam…”

His hands cup you fully now, palms warm against your bare skin, fingers spreading over the soft flesh. He squeezes gently, rolling your nipples between his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure straight down to where he's still buried deep inside you.

You whimper. "Oh—fuck—"

Liam groans at the sound, his pace picking up again. He thrusts deep, slow, making sure you feel everything while his hands continue their work, teasing and kneading, thumbs flicking over your hardened peaks.

"You like that, babe?" he murmurs.

You let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch. "You know I do, asshole."

His lips graze your ear. "Yeah, but I like hearing you say it."

You shudder. "God, I hate you."

"You love me," he counters easily.

And you do. You really fucking do.

The sheets are tangled beneath you, soaked with sweat, the air thick with heat and the sound of your breathless moans as Liam moves above you. His pace is relentless, his hands still teasing the sensitive swell of your breasts under your loose shirt, his hips snapping into yours in slow, deep thrusts that leave you gasping for air.

And then—he moves.

His hands slide from your breasts, gliding down your waist, gripping your hips as he pulls out of you completely, leaving you empty for a brief, agonizing second. You barely have time to whimper before he's flipping you onto your side with that effortless strength of his, adjusting you just how he wants.

Your upper leg is bent at the knee, and Liam’s hand takes firm hold of your thigh, using it as leverage. The other supports him as he hovers over you, pressing close, so deep inside your body heat it’s impossible to tell where you end and he begins.

And then—he thrusts.

A strangled cry rips from your throat as he drives into you, hitting that spot with such brutal accuracy it sends a sharp pulse of pleasure straight through you, like a live wire snapping under the surface of your skin.

“L-Liam—” you **** out, fingers clawing at the sheets.

“Fuck, baby,” Liam groans, his grip on your thigh tightening as he pulls your leg just a little higher, spreading you wider, letting him sink even deeper. “You’re so fucking wet—”

The sound of your slick, soaking pussy welcoming him back in is filthy, obscene, only drowned out by the sharp slap of skin on skin as he starts thrusting with purpose.

And you—you are lost.

Your body trembles, overwhelmed, your head tilting back into the pillows as Liam pounds you into the mattress, his cock driving so deep, so perfectly, so fucking good you can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips.

“F-fuck—oh my god—”

Liam chuckles breathlessly, his voice husky, full of pride at the way you're falling apart beneath him. "You love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you like this—"

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut. You can’t even pretend to play it cool anymore. Your body is betraying you, melting under him, every muscle tensing as his cock drags against that sweet, devastatingly perfect spot inside you.

And then—

It happens.

The tension that’s been building snaps all at once, your body locking up before shattering apart in a wave of pure, white-hot pleasure.

Your orgasm slams into you, knocking the air from your lungs, pleasure crashing in pulses, spreading from your core, down to your toes, up to your fingers, your entire body consumed in it.

A broken, high-pitched cry escapes your lips, unfiltered and raw, as your walls clamp down around Liam’s cock, milking him for all he’s worth. Your entire body shakes in his hold, your thigh twitching in his grip, your breaths coming in ragged, **** gasps.

But Liam—Liam doesn’t stop.

He groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, but he keeps going, keeps fucking into you, dragging out every last drop of your orgasm, pushing you into overstimulation.

Your body jerks, fingers curling into the sheets. “F-fuck—Liam, I—”

“Oh, no,” Liam breathes, voice full of wicked amusement, hips snapping forward again, and again, and again. “You’re not done yet, babe.”

And fuck—he’s right.

Your body is so sensitive, every drag of his cock sending sparks shooting through you, pushing you into that perfect, helpless haze of cock-drunk bliss. Your moans turn shaky, broken, raw, your mind clouding over, your only focus the way Liam is still fucking you.

The sounds coming from you are pure desperation, whimpering and breathless, so wrecked you barely sound like yourself anymore.

“L-Liam—please—”

Liam groans, finally letting go.

His thrusts grow sloppy, frantic, ****, his grip tightening on your thigh as he slams into you one last time—

And then—he’s gone.

A guttural, low moan tears from his throat as he cums deep inside you, warmth flooding your core in thick, hot pulses. His cock twitches inside you, spilling everything he has, his body shuddering against yours as he rides it out, breathing hard, pressing his forehead against the back of your shoulder.

For a few moments, neither of you move.

The only sound in the room is the heavy, panting breaths you both fight to catch, your bodies still tangled together, completely spent.

And then, Liam—still catching his breath—lets out a soft, breathy laugh.

“Well.” He presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “Guess we’re definitely missing class.”

And with 16 days until the end, you had no idea how it was going to go.