Call your dad

You end up lying there for a few minutes, too disoriented and in pain to move. Lost in memories of the past few weeks, you try to see if there had ever been any red flags that would have warned you of what he was planning. Tom had been kind and attentive. Listened to all of your stories and promised you the world. You look at the paper with his contact information. Probably all fake, now that you think of it. Had anything about Thomas been real?

Eventually you force yourself up, gathering your things and getting dressed as best you can. Your father should be home by now. At least you hope he is. All you want is to be wrapped in his arms and know that everything would be okay, at least for a moment.

Tears drip down your face as you navigate the beach, stumbling a bit as your feet catch in the sand. God, how the hell were you going to make it home like this? Maybe you could give your dad a call?

You look through your bag, thankful to find your phone where you left it. It wouldn't have surprised you to find it stolen, having happened multiple times growing up. But you pause, looking at your lock screen. It's a picture of you and your father at your graduation a few months prior, both of you smiling brightly at the camera. Both of you had such high hopes back then. You were gonna go to college, become a marine biologist, find a man who really loved you and make something of yourself. Now... Now you've been assaulted and all your dreams might end up on hold to take care of a baby you know you aren't ready for yet. What will he think when you tell him what happened? What will he do?

He wouldn't kick you out, would he? Dad always told you how much it hurt when your grandparents disowned him for getting pregnant with you. How he wouldn't trade you for the world, but how he regretted not having a relationship with them before they passed. You doubt he would do the same thing to you, knowing how bad it hurt him, but you can't help but fear it. He's your dad, the only family you have, and losing him would absolutely destroy you.

Part of you doesn't want to call, wanting to put off the confrontation as long as possible, but you can't. Your legs definitely won't carry you all the way home. So you unlock your phone and make the call.

He answers quickly and doesn't question you on where you've been or what you've done. All he asks is where you are and when you are going to be home. Your throat threatens to close up on you, but you manage to squeak out that you are at the beach and need a ride home. He tells you that he's be there in ten minutes.

Zoning out, you go over all the what-if's going through your head. You don't even notice the blue pick-up truck pulling into the parking lot or your father getting out. You only come back to the real world when you feel his hands on your cheeks and your eyes meet his.

Damien Swift has always been a strong man, despite his status as a bottom. He's muscled and toned from years of working in the sun, still able to pick you up like you were a baby. You got your eyes from him, the same sea-foam green that seems to be a defining Swift characteristic. They're looking at you worriedly, probably taking in the hickey you can feel on your neck and the tear tracks marring your face. "Daddy..." you whimper, feeling the world crashing down around you, "Please... Please don't hate me!"

"Oh Vic, I could never hate you." he says, voice such a sharp contrast to how he looks, "You're my baby, nothing you do could make me love you any less."

The tears pick back up again as your dad pulls you into a tight hug, providing the safety you've been craving so desperately since you woke up on the beach. Everything is going to be alright now, your dad is here and he'd fight the world to make you happy again. You're safe.

The two of you sit there for what feels like hours, but is actually only a few minutes as you cry yourself out. Between the pain and the exhaustion, you don't think you can make it to the truck. It's just too much to ask of yourself right now. Your dad realizes that too and picks you up bridal style. In seconds you're safe in the pick up, Elvis playing on the radio and your dad's soft reassurances filling your ears. You're asleep in seconds, finally able to truly relax.