It was with such ease, the way he slipped inside of you, instantly finding the perfect angle that had his name rolling off your tongue like a prayer. He knew your body all too well.

He had you spread wide open, giving him full access to your dripping core as he began pounding into you, eyes closed in his state of ecstasy.

It was a beautiful sight, him losing himself pleasing you, digging his fingers into your hips and locking them where he knew they would leave marks.

His hips rocked into you as his hand found yours, lacing your fingers with his and giving a little squeeze. It started out as just a casual fuck, something to occupy yourselves without any strings attached. No feelings involved. It was supposed to be a one-time-thing. Just one.

You were weeks into it, now, though. You'd known him since middle school and now you were in university, living in the same building, still hanging out with the same group of friends. You'd always been one of the guys, a friend to all. That was until you and Shawn started fucking on a nightly basis.

It started one late night after you made a comment about being dick-deprived, and his drunken ass thought you were serious. His intoxicated self just went with it, and the next thing you knew, his firm body had you pinned against his closet door, tattooed hand in your panties. You left as soon as it was over, swearing to one another you'd never think of each other that way ever again.

He was the first to cave.

Couldn't even wait twenty-four hours to text you. You'd been waiting for it, though. You were at his door in less than a minute, nervous and excited and dripping wet.

It became a regular thing after that. Angry sex was common, midterms talking a toll on both of you. It started out needy, rough, even a little harsh. It wasn't really like that anymore, though. Slowly, he started warming up to you, even though he promised himself he wouldn't. Whether it was reaching for your hand as he fucked you into the mattress, or telling you to text him when you got back to your room safely, or his recent requests for you to stay the night, you knew he was a goner. So fucked for you, still refusing to admit it.

He leaned down to kiss you, his lips hot against yours as you gripped his shoulders, digging into the tender skin. His balls slapped your right ass cheek as he continued to bury himself inside of you, clenched stomach signalling he was close.

You kissed him harder, knowing this would throw him over the edge. Swiping your tongue against his lower lip, he moaned into your mouth as he released, collapsing on top of you and smiling wide. He'd been getting giddy afterward lately.

He planted a kiss on your forehead and pulled out of you, walking into the little bathroom to discard of his condom. You sat up, searching for your underwear that were nowhere to be found, slipping on your university-embroidered hoodie.

"Where are you going?" Shawn asked, not even bothering to put his boxers back on. He was getting a little too comfortable with you, but you kind-of-totally loved it. He was ideal. Sweet, funny, and bonus points for being able to make you cum with a few proper strokes of his skilled tongue. He was yours, kind of, but you liked things the way they were now.

"Back to my room," you said, spotting your panties and tugging them up your legs. "Must recover," you added, still very concentrated on getting out of there as quickly as possible.

His face fell, rejection sinking in yet again. He just wanted to cuddle.

"Oh, alright. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then? At Brian's?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"Yeah, see you then," you responded, finally clothed and walking down the hall and back to your room on the first floor.

You saw him before then, though.

It was ten in the morning when a soft knock at your door woke you and caused Megan, your roommate, to stir. You checked your phone—seven missed texts and two missed calls from Shawn.

"I'll get it," you mumbled to her, forcing yourself out of your warm bed and levelling yourself with the peephole on your door.

What the fuck? It was Shawn. At your door. He knew this wasn't allowed. You opened it, stepping out into the hall and closing it behind you.

"My room. Now," was all he said, craning his neck around to make sure no one else was in the hall. He turned back to you, grabbed your face with his strong hands and kissed you deeply. You pulled away, knowing the dangers of being caught. None of your friends could know.

"Let me grab my keys," you said, taking a breath and stepping back into your room.

A morning quickie was nothing out of the ordinary, especially since Shawn needed to get all his sexual frustration out before being stuck in a room with you and all of his friends for a few hours. Drunk Shawn was an oversharer, and neither of you could afford that. The secrecy was half the fun.

By late afternoon, you and Megan had gotten ready. You wore a black a-line miniskirt with a pink t-shirt and your oversized jean jacket, basically turning your dorm room upside down in search of your favourite white top. It was nowhere to be found, so you had to muster something together in a time-crunch before heading over to Brian's student house just outside campus. He always hosted little parties, mainly because he had more space. It wasn't just a dingy dorm, it was an actual house with actual rooms. What a concept.

Shawn met the two of you at the entrance to your building, all smiles and rosy cheeks. Boy was gushing and you both knew you were the reason.

Megan babbled about some prof she didn't really like, and you tried to follow along, but it was hard with Shawn's hand persistently brushing against yours every ten seconds. As much as you wanted him to stop, the electricity shooting up your arm was a little overwhelming. When Megan was deep into her story, not looking over at you, you gave Shawn's bum a light squeeze and continued as if nothing had happened. Maybe concealing this wouldn't be so tough, you thought.

You moved from the middle of Shawn and Megan to the opposite side, getting as far away from Shawn as possible. Looking over at him, he gave you a little nod of understanding.

The party was pretty mellow, maybe about ten of you just sitting around the living room. Shawn sat on the couch beside Brian, beer in hand as you all had a collective conversation about midterms.

"Yeah, the stress really puts a damper on the ol' sex life," Brian joked, the room kind of falling silent. It was true for most people—less partying, more studying.

Megan, being your roommate and constantly keeping tabs on you, quickly joined in, saying, "Yeah, Y/N, you haven't had any guys over in weeks," and giggled, your face turning a little red. Shawn's eyes met yours, giving you a wink as he slightly blushed. If you guys only knew, you thought to yourself.

Brian seemed to find this extremely funny, escalating the conversation, "And Shawn, how are you even functioning? You haven't texted me about some random one-night-stand in ages."

Everyone—except for you—found this quite funny. Shawn was a known womanizer, always sleeping with someone. Currently, that someone was you.

"So what's her name?" Ian asked, the room falling silent.

"What?" Shawn asked, slight panic in his voice. You stared at the wall, growing a little nervous.

"Shawn, you're never not having hookups. There's gotta be someone. Spill," he said, Shawn exhaling and shaking his head.

"Whatever, man. Don't worry about it. Been studying a little more than usual, lately. That's all," his eyes found yours as he licked his lips, turning your cheeks a deep shade of crimson. This was going too far, reaching dangerous territory.

You found a way to reroute the conversation, asking everyone how they felt about the calculus midterm. It worked for a while, but the guys would not stop bugging Shawn about his mystery woman. Growing uncomfortable, you got up to go into the kitchen for another drink, escaping the risk of being found out.

Upon standing up, a tipsy Shawn called out to you making sure you were okay.
"Y/N, you good?" he asked, which was pretty normal behaviour for the last week or so. However, no one else expected it. After all, why would Shawn be concerned with what you were up to? They didn't say anything, but you did catch Ian and Brian giving each other a puzzled look. They were catching on, and this was getting dangerous.
Some time passed as you and the other girls made conversation in the kitchen, talking about schoolwork and next weekend's plans. It had been about half an hour until you all went back into the living room to see what the boys were up to. This was clearly enough time for them to get a little more drunk, as they were laughing uncontrollably at some terrible joke Matt was telling.

You sat down in search of a place to jump into the conversation when your friend Tessa took note of your outfit. "Y/N, I really like that skirt," she said, taking you by surprise.

"This? Thank you! I like it better with this white crop top I have but I couldn't find it anywhere, so this was the next best thing," you said, smiling in her direction.

Shawn leaned back in his seat, one leg folded underneath him. He quite comfortably asked you, "Oh, the short one, with the little frills on the sleeves? Yeah, you left it in my room."

Silence. Nothing but silence filled the air as your heart began racing, Shawn's face turning white as he realized what he had just said.

It felt like an eternity. Time was in slow-motion as your eyes darted to the floor, dodging Shawn's apologetic expression as the others looked at each other, piecing together what just happened.

Brian was the first to break the silence, speaking much louder than you'd expected, "Uhm, are you guys fucking?" was all he asked, shock with a hint of laughter lacing his voice.

You tried to keep a straight face, fighting a smile and pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. Shawn's face fell into his hands, completely defeated. You'd been caught.

"I fucking knew it," Megan said, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.
You looked over at her, no explanation entering your brain. You searched for a way to deny it, an excuse to cover up Shawn's slip of the tongue, but nothing came to mind.

"How long?" Ian asked, looking between you and Shawn, trying to read the situation.

You opened your mouth to explain that you're not actually sleeping with Shawn, he just ended up with your shirt, but it was too late when Shawn looked up at you and said, "Three weeks."

"Three weeks?!" they all said in unison, completely flabbergasted by this information.

"Yeah, three weeks," Shawn said as he pushed himself out of his seat, crossing the room and planting himself on the couch beside you. His strong arm wrapped around your shoulders and gave a little squeeze, forcing a smile to form on your lips. "Three amazing weeks," he grinned, tilting your chin up to look at him and placing a soft peck on your lips.

You rested your head on his shoulder, unsure of what to do next. The word was out, no more secrets to be kept. It was kind of a relief.

You were once again greeted with silence, everyone just staring at each other.

"What the actual fuck just happened?" Brian asked, searching the faces of the group for an answer.

You looked up at Shawn, finding his chestnut eyes locked on yours. "Have they really been amazing?" you whispered, a blush rising in your cheeks.

"Best three weeks of my life," he responded, kissing your forehead and squeezing you again.