A heavy sigh departed your lips as you shifted, leaning your head back against the wall. You closed your eyes, though it did little against the fluorescents in the hallway. A headache pulsed dully at your temples, your mouth dry and your limbs starting to ache after the long walk back to campus. Sitting here, abandoned and helpless was its own unique form of torture. You knew your out. The door beside yours stood there, the thin wood taunting you in its frame. The man behind it, Jake Kiszka, was your natural enemy. The complete and utter bane of your existence. It wasn’t only that he was a pest of a neighbor– fucking and shouting and playing music at all odd hours– he was also argumentative, arrogant, and an absolute fuckboy.

Even before you’d marched to his door and practically beat a hole in it, his reputation preceded him. The amount of girls in your lectures you heard whispering about him was unbelievable. He was the campus heartbreaker. True that he was fantastically attractive, and a talented musician. But from what you heard, and experienced… he was a complete asshole. You’d had your share of questionable interactions with him, and wanted absolutely nothing at all to do with Jake Kiszka. 

The last hour sitting in the hallway gave you plenty of time to think over your situation. It was hard to believe that you weren’t getting your divine retribution. Your only escape from sitting in this misery for the next six hours was the guy you absolutely despised. As you sobered up, you understood clearly that you were being bullheaded. Bratty. Stubborn. Wouldn’t it be worse to have to grovel at Jake’s feet?

As you were weighing your options, the sound of footsteps jostled you from your thoughts. You peeled your eyes open, blinking at the brightness as they adjusted. Standing before you was exactly the person you didn’t want to see. Jake peered at you, lifting an eyebrow as he examined your disheveled frame crumpled on the floor. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding halfway concerned. 

You laughed humorlessly, running a hand over your face. You refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing in on his booted feet. You were sure you were being punished now. This was no coincidence that you were literally at his feet, having to ask for help.

“I’m locked out,” you muttered, voice bitter. “Left my fucking phone and keys at some shitty bar. What are you doing?” 

The challenge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. The corner of his mouth quirked up, a flash of amusement flickering behind his dark eyes. He took a step back, leaning against the wall across from you. His arms flexed as he crossed them over his chest, muscles stretching beneath the skin. You tore your eyes away. 

“It’s spring break,” he said, as if that explained it all.

“Hmmm,” you said, nodding. “Off fucking some sorority sister, then?”

Antagonizing him was the last thing you should be doing right now. You were actively aware of that, and didn’t care. A dark chuckle left his lips. 

“What’s it to you?”

You shrugged. “Just glad it was in someone else’s room, this time,” you conceded. “Would’ve been a good night for me to get some sleep.”

He laughed again, shaking his head. Jake maintained his cool facade, seeming unbothered by your digs. 

“Well,” he sighed, “not that it’s any of your business, but I took a day trip to see my family.”

You swallowed hard. You almost felt a little bad for assuming he was off ruining another girl’s life. You huffed, wringing your hands in your lap. His eyes bore into you, dark irises still flashing amusement as he stared at your pitiful form on the ground. He was pleased, as you knew he would be. He expected the universe to repay you this retribution, and here he was to witness it all. 

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” You broke the silence, skin crawling with discomfort.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he wondered. A rage-inducing smirk spread over his lips. You gave him a dark look.

“You really don’t know?” A frown settled on your features. It wasn’t entirely the fact that he was the campus playboy, nor that he was obnoxiously loud with his nighttime escapades, but also that he had humiliated you in front of a dozen people. It was a touchy subject, and there were very few people you brought it up with. Of course, he didn’t remember it as vividly as you did. He was popular, well-liked, and not interested in the likes of you. 

“No, Y/N, I don’t,” he said. He sounded truthful, and that made things worse.

You laughed, the hollow, bitter noise echoing through the empty hall. “You made a fucking joke out of me last year, Jake,” you said darkly. “Back at that stupid fucking frat party.”

“You do realize how many frat parties I’ve been to, right? You’re gonna have to be more specific…”

“That Lambda Omega Phi Halloween party,” you muttered, face flushing at the memory. “I don’t know why I even went in the first place. Somehow, Maddie convinced me, and look at me now…” 

He frowned, looking seriously confused. “I still don’t follow,” he said. 

You forced your gaze up to meet his eyes, shaking your head. You’d cried over the humiliation before, but now there were no more tears. Only anger. You knew he could be an asshole, but you had never expected him to do anything to you of all people. You always kept to yourself, minding your own business. 

“It was late,” you began, “pretty much everyone had gone home. There were maybe ten or fifteen of us left. Someone suggested we spin the bottle. Make it a sort of spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven situation. I was uncomfortable to begin with… Imagine how I felt when you looked at me for a second, and laughed. You said, ‘We can’t invite this one to seven minutes in heaven. Little birdie told me she’s still a virgin.’ Everyone laughed.”

“Y/N–”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse, Jake,” you said, cheeks burning. “You asked me why I hate you, that’s why. And after you said that about me, in front of all of those people, I have to come home and be your neighbor. I wish you knew how that felt.”

He stared at the ground, shaking his head. When he looked back up, the amusement in his eyes was gone. His lips were set in a flat line, expression almost remorseful.

“I was drunk, Y/N, really,” he said, his voice soft. “That was wrong of me to say. Really, I feel like a piece of shit. I only remember bits and pieces.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know… I can’t say anything to make things better. I will say that I’m sorry, and I mean that.” 

“Okay,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Talking about it made it more real in your memory. It made things come flashing back: the sound of the laughter around you, the teasing smile on Jake’s lips, your stomach dropping as you realized you were once again the butt of someone’s joke. Once you graduated high school, you thought you were completely done with bullies, but you’d learned the truth that night. You would never be able to escape being teased for your timidity. 

“Really, Y/N–” he was almost pleading, his voice much lighter and softer. Strained, as if he were in pain.

“Enough,” you said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No,” he argued, “it’s not fair. That I treated you that way. Maybe I had a reason, though…”

You glanced up at him, your brows furrowed together. What reason could he possibly have for embarrassing you like that? You’d rushed out of the party, tears pouring down your cheeks, mortified. There was no reason to justify that. 

“I hope it was a really fucking good reason, Jake,” you hissed.

He laughed sheepishly, brushing his hair back off of his face with one hand. “It wasn’t, still isn’t,” he sighed. He refused to meet your gaze, instead staring down the empty hall. “I just– I’d seen you around campus, sat a few rows behind you in Intro to Anthropology, hell, I’d heard you talking or laughing through the dorm wall, and I… I liked you, Y/N. A lot…”

Your eyes widened as he spoke, confusion jumbling your thoughts. Embarrassment bloomed further throughout your body. You practically gaped as he continued, pouring his heart out to you.

“You’re so clever, and you always shared interesting opinions and offered perspectives I hadn’t considered in class… I saw you at that party, and you looked beautiful– hell, beautiful doesn’t even describe you. You were like… some kind of art, just walking around casually. I saw other guys looking at you, noticed them getting excited… What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want any of them to have their chance with you in spin the bottle…”

“You could have just told me,” you said, breathless.

“I realize that, now,” he continued, “but I was drunk. I was jealous. So I did something stupid, and believe me when I tell you I regret it. So much.”

“Even after I tried to break your door down?” you laughed, unable to process the information he was telling you. He liked you? It was surprising enough that he didn’t hate your guts back, but to actually like you? Romantically? He was dropping bombs on you tonight.

He grinned, “Even more,” he admitted. “All those girls I brought home… None of them were anything compared to you… I’m not proud to say that I pictured you more often than not… writhing underneath me, your perfect little blushing face.” He flushed at the very thought, pressing his lips together.

Your heart threatened to burst from your ribcage, beating rapidly. No one ever spoke to you this way. Embarrassment warmed your cheeks, the tops of your ears, and you tried to hide the satisfied little smile on your lips. The situation unfolding around you was surreal. None of your friends were going to believe this when you recounted it to them in the morning.

You didn’t know what to say, so your mind settled on one burning question.

“You really think I’m a virgin?”

He blinked at you, taken aback. For a few beats, the two of you were silent. Then, he finally stuttered out a reply, “W–well, maybe. I don’t know. I just said it to keep those guys away from you.”

A real laugh broke the quiet in the hall this time, and you smiled. The reality had yet to fully wash over you; Jake Kiszka liked you? Of all people. That was something… You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“Well, I guess I won’t spoil the surprise,” you said, voice teasing as you shrugged. “Too bad I’m stuck out in this hallway,” you continued, “I’m sure you really would like to get to know me…”

Your eyes flicked up to him, a tiny smirk playing on your lips. He rolled his eyes, scoffing as he stepped past you to unlock the door to his dorm room. 

“If you wanted to come in, all you had to do was ask,” he said, trying halfheartedly to sound annoyed at you. A satisfied chuckle left your lips, and you stepped inside at his gesture.

“Why would I do that?”

“What? Ask for what you want?”

You nodded.

He smiled innocently. “That’s what good girls do, Y/N.”

You were relieved that your back was facing him. The flustered look on your face would have thrown your game completely off had he seen it. 

“Good girls, hm?” you mused, peeling off your damp jacket and tossing it on his desk chair. He flicked on the lamp in the corner of the room, illuminating you in a faint amber glow. His eyes sparkled in the light, watching your movements. 

He said nothing, observing you. You glanced around the room, admiring the messiness of the room. There were clothes scattered around, books laid haphazardly on the floor, posters pasted crooked on the wall. Your roommate would never allow your room to look like this. Something about the clutter made it cozier; it just made sense that his room would look this way.

“So this is where you bring all those good girls, huh?” You looked at him expectantly.

He lifted a hand up, scratching at the nape of his neck. He shifted beneath your inquiring gaze, then took a step forward to drop his keys on the desk behind you. You stared up at him, though the glint of his belt buckle at eye-level was rather enticing, you wouldn’t give in so easily.

“You know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, slowly coming to lift your chin. “You look really fucking good from this angle.”

Your tongue darted out to moisten your lips. You tilted your head to the side innocently, fluttering your lashes at him. “You think so?” One of your hands trailed up the inside of his leg, tracing over the denim of his jeans lightly. He shivered slightly beneath your touch, his gaze latched onto yours with an intensity you’d never seen from him before. 

“Mmm,” he grunted his approval, then breathed out a few more words, “but I could think of a thing or two that’d make this angle even better…”

“And what would that be?” you teased, fingers inching closer to the bulge straining against his pants. He groaned as you traced the outline with a single finger, barely ghosting over it. 

He chuckled, shaking his head at your antics. “God, you’re a fucking tease.”

“Would you rather a tease or a virgin?” you wondered aloud, still fucking with him. Your hand finally palmed his bulge completely, eliciting a lewd sound from deep within his throat. Your eyes widened, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of making him whimper and writhe at the faintest touches.

“Fuck,” he grunted as you fiddled with his belt buckle. “What kind of question is that?”

You breathed an amused breath through your nose, shrugging, “Just a question.” A devilish smile danced on your lips. You peeled down the waistband of his jeans and boxers, eyes still on his even as his cock sprang free. His breathing deepened as you wrapped a fist around the base, stroking it with a light touch.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Probably not,” you replied. “You might be able to make it up to me, though…”

Without waiting for his reply, you took the head of his cock between your lips. You let your jaw go lax, your tongue doing all of the work as you took him deeper into your mouth. His fingers pressed into the skin of your neck as he guided your chin over his cock. Jake’s mouth hung agape, eyes almost blank as he watched you suck him off.

A shaky breath stole from his mouth, “Ah, god, you’re fucking good at that…” His irises darkened considerably, going from deep amber to nearly black as lust shrouded his gaze. His lips glistened with spit, mouth open as he tried to steady his breathing. A few grunts and choked moans broke the quiet in the room, accompanied by the slick sounds of your mouth on him.

You pushed yourself further down to the base of his cock, your nose nearly brushing his pubic hair as you took him into your throat. He pulsated inside of your mouth, something like a whine tearing from his throat as you gazed up at him through wet lashes. His other hand tangled into your hair, both of them now guiding you as he gently rocked his hips into your mouth. You bobbed your head in time with his rhythm, relishing in the musical sounds of pleasure coming out of him. As the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat, you tightened the muscles around him. He growled, the sound sending shivers straight to your center. 

You took him deeper, your throat squeezing around the head. He sucked in a sharp breath, and you hummed around him. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, saliva dripped over your chin, but you didn’t care. The look on his face was intoxicating; his eyes clamped shut, mouth hanging open in an expression that almost made him look pained. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna–”

You pushed even further, gagging around him as your nose finally brushed his skin. He gasped, the hand in your hair tightening as he pulled you away unexpectedly. A string of saliva followed your mouth before dripping down your neck. Your chest heaved as you panted, the air cooling the mess on your chin as you stared up at him.

“Made a mess of that pretty little face,” Jake whispered, thumb dragging through the slick on your mouth before dipping in between your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digit, bleary-eyed and lightheaded. His cock jumped in your hand, a sigh escaping his lips at the feeling of you slowly pumping him. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed around his finger, bobbing as if you were still sucking him off. He watched you for a moment, transfixed by the filthy sight of you below him. Mascara smeared beneath your eyes, spit glistening on your swollen lips, your cheeks flushed. 

“Pretty girl,” he mumbled, “wanna see how pretty you look riding me… C’mon…”

You stood, legs shaky already. He lifted your shirt over your head without hesitation, fingers expertly unhooking the back of your bra. You shivered, exposed to the cool air and his salacious gaze. His eyes drank in your figure for a second. They dragged over your messy face, down your clavicle, and to your exposed chest. He wasted no time in leading you to his bed, your back pressing into the sheets. His lips enclosed around one nipple, fingers tweaking the other as you arched up into his touch, sighing. 

His thigh notched itself between your legs, the denim rubbing deliciously against your needy core through the thin layer of your shorts. You rocked against him, desperate for any contact. He smirked against your chest at this, breaking contact for a second. “Needy angel, aren’t we?” 

“Please–” you breathed. You bit down on your bottom lip, watching the way he sucked and nipped at the skin of your chest, leaving dark marks on the skin. The throbbing in your center was becoming unbearable, the friction from his leg not enough to satisfy the desperation spreading through your veins. You needed him, now.

“Please what, angel?” He looked up at you, deep brown eyes through a shade of lashes, and your heart fluttered. You had to close your eyes, holding back the moan that threatened to spill from you just at the sight of him. His lips were a swollen, sanguine shade of red from the friction, shining with saliva. His eyes shone dark brown, honeyed like molasses. Damp pooled between your thighs, gluing the fabric of your panties to your soaked core. 

You swallowed hard, and managed to gather your bearings. “Please, I need to feel you…”

A genuine smile found its way to his face at this, the cocky look playing in his eyes making you want him even more. If you were in your right mind, you would have scolded yourself for letting him charm you. But it was so easy to fall for Jake Kiszka, especially when he was perched between your legs, looking so eager to please.

“Okay,” he muttered. He leaned over you, lips finding yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, his breath sweet and addicting as your lips moved together. “Feel me, then, angel. Take what you need…” His breath fanned against your lips, and the two of you switched places. You took a second to peel off your shorts and panties as he quickly undressed.

He watched through hooded eyes as you straddled him. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal already, glistening tantalizingly over your skin. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as you pivoted your hips over him, slicking his cock in your juices.

“Don’t be too long,” he whispered. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine; it was as if he were watching his very life-force, the need in his eyes burned hot behind those irises. 

A deep breath fanned out of your nose as you finally sank down onto him. You threw your head back, a piercing moan came from you as he filled you to the brim. Tears pricked your eyes at the stretch. 

“Jake,” was all you could manage as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“Take it, angel,” he said, voice deep and saccharine, “Go on, take what you need.”

You balanced one hand on his thigh as you began to grind against him. Your other hand gathered your hair into one hand, cooling the burning around your neck and chest. He dragged against your walls, the feeling sending sparks all through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut as your clit bumped against his pubic bone. Jolts of pleasure shot through you.

He breathed hard, one hand splayed over your thigh while the other rested behind his head. Low pants and moans spilled from his lips. That attentive gaze drank you in, every little detail carved out of soft flesh and muscle. You saw the way he admired you, and wondered how you didn’t notice it before. 

Shifting positions, you lifted yourself up to bounce on him, and he breathed a small whimper. You smiled, leaning over him as you began to lower yourself once again. You maintained a steady pace, fingers hooking through the necklace hanging around his neck to pull his lips up to yours. You panted, sharing breaths for a second before you connected your lips. Bracing yourself against his chest, you increased your pace until you were making your own head spin. He was hitting all of the right spots, stars blooming in your vision as you hastily approached orgasm. 

The muscles of his abdomen trembled beneath you, and he groaned as you pulled away from the kiss to breath. “God, fuck, Y/N.”

You smiled, chest heaving with every breath. “I’m almost there,” you whispered, using every bit of self-control not to cry out his name over and over again.

“Shit,” he hissed, as you swirled your hips at a different angle. “I am, too. Let go, for me, yeah?”

You nodded your agreement, fingers pressing into his chest as you lifted up. The room filled with breathless moans and the sound of skin slapping together. You brought your other hand down to your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves as you hurdled towards your orgasm. Your mouth fell agape, pornographic noises ripping through the room around you. Your thighs shook and ached as you rode him through your release, milking every ounce of pleasure out of the man beneath you. He cried out your name in his velvety tone, his body tensing as he reached his own orgasm.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he held you in place, eyes locked onto yours as his release coated your insides. 

“Don’t stop,” he muttered, hips jerking into yours as you continued your pace. The muscles in your legs tightened, though the pleasure pulsing through your body shadowed the pain. 

“Jake, I can’t—” you mewled, body weakened from your orgasm.

“You can, angel, I know you can…” he whispered, leaning up to grasp your face in one hand. “Keep going…”

“It’s too much–”

“One more, Y/N. Just give me one more.” He pressed his lips against your throat, biting softly against the skin. His fingers dipped between your bodies, rubbing your clit fervently. Your entire body seized, hands holding onto him for dear life. “Come on, baby…”

You cried out his name, moisture pricking your eyes as you rocked against his hand. He was softening inside of you, your walls clenching around him as he coaxed you through your second orgasm. Burying your face into his neck, you whined at the feeling. 

“Almost there, baby, I know you can do it,” he cooed, lips ghosting over your jaw, up your hairline, onto your forehead. “Oh, you’re so good for me…”

He made a pleased noise as your release washed over you again, black spots clouding your vision. The sounds coming from you were animalistic, and unrelenting as you sobbed against him. He pressed gentle kisses against your temple and forehead, easing you through the overwhelming pleasure. Your body finally stilled, body going lax against him as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I knew you would be a good girl for me,” he said. He brushed the hair off of your face and neck, gently separating the two of you and laying you down on the bed. You sprawled over the sheets, the air cooling the mess between your legs as you lay there trying to slow your heart rate. 

“That was…”

“Mind blowing,” Jake finished for you, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling away and standing up. He pulled his jeans back on, rummaging around in the room as you laid an arm over your eyes. You let your body relax, muscles aching from the effort of riding him. 

After a second, you hissed at a cold feeling between your legs. You pushed yourself up on your elbows, watching as Jake wiped the mess from between your legs.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “didn’t wanna run down to the bathroom…”

“It’s okay,” you relaxed back into the bed again. It was a tad amusing that he kept a pack of wet wipes in his room, but you said nothing. You were too exhausted. 

He tossed the soiled wipe into the trash bin by the desk, then flicked the light off. He passed you a t-shirt that smelled like him, and you pulled it over your head. His bed was more comfortable than your own at this point, your mind drifting away already after only a few seconds. 

“You all right?” he asked, concern coloring his voice as he settled into bed beside you. You threw one arm over his abdomen, slipping closer to him in the darkness.

“Mhmm,” you replied.

She went back to searching for more shells, while Sam glanced down at your relaxed form. “Feeling okay, sweet girl?” 

“I’m all right,” you said, brushing a hand over your flushed face. He peered at you, a slight worried look in his eye. He knelt down and retrieved a bottle of water from the cooler, pressing it against your cheek as he watched your expression. 

“You’re burning up out here,” he said, noticing the heat coloring your cheeks, 

“Sam,” you said, grasping his hand and taking the water bottle from him. You placed a kiss on his palm, smiling softly. “Stop worrying. I’m okay.”

“No nausea or anything?”

You shook your head. This was the first time in weeks that you felt like your normal self. You’d been feeling extremely nauseated for about two weeks before you finally broke down and took a pregnancy test. The two little lines had sent a jolt through you. You knew Sam would be excited. It was as if he were put on Earth solely to be the best husband and father. But the truth was, you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You loved Daisy with everything in you, and adored being her mother. However, somewhere along the way, you’d solidified the idea that your family was complete–just the three of you, forever and always.

“The baby’s noticed,” he said, sitting down in front of you and pulling your feet into his lap. Absent-mindedly, he massaged the skin of your legs and feet, making you sigh. This pregnancy was especially rough, compared to the breeze that Daisy’s had been. You felt like you were getting all of the side effects and sickness from both of your pregnancies rolled into one. You’d been confined to your bed or the bathroom floor for the past two months. It would be a wonder if Daisy didn’t notice.

“I know,” you sighed, brushing your hair out of your eyes. Then, you had a thought, “How are we going to break it to her?”

Sam turned away from watching Daisy, to watch you for a second. He laughed gently, “You make it sound like she’s going to be devastated.”

You smiled, “I mean–what if she is? She–she won’t be the baby anymore,” you said, and a wave of sadness washed over you. A sudden wave of emotion slammed over you, and you felt yourself tearing up. You tried to blink them away, but the tears had a mind of their own, and you started to cry. Stupid hormones. 

“Hey,” The softness in Sam’s voice engulfed you, along with his arms as he pulled you into his lap. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back. Despite the burning heat of his skin, you leaned into him. You muffled your cries into his shoulder, embarrassed to be crying over something so small. 

“She’s still our baby, my love,” Sam said softly, his voice dripping honey. He brushed the hair slicked down on your forehead off of your face, and met your eyes. The warmth of his gaze eased you, your tears slowly drying as he hushed and soothed you. 

“But she’s gonna be a big sister,” you said, tearfully. “She’s three years old already, and she’s not gonna be the baby anymore…” The last part came as a whisper, and you choked back more sobs that threatened to spill out. 

“She won’t be the baby. She’ll be one of our babies. Isn’t that better, honey? We’ll have two babies,” he hooked a finger beneath your chin, titling your face up towards his. 

You brushed your tears away, nodding, trying to force yourself to pull it together. Taking a shaky breath, you rested your head on his shoulder and watched Daisy playing in the water. She appeared to be singing quietly, cradling a handful of shells in her hand. She placed them gently into her bucket, and straightened up to glance at the two of you, as if checking to ensure that you were still there. It was one of her quirks at home, too; if it got too quiet after she went to bed, she would tiptoe out of her room just to be sure that you and Sam were still around. Whenever she skipped ahead of you at the park, she was sure to turn around every few seconds to keep an eye on you. She kept track of you as much as you did her. 

She met your eyes, and you forced a smile and a wave. The little girl grabbed the bucket, lugging it up the sand towards the two of you. Her lifejacket and bucket weighed her down slightly, and Sam giggled at the sight of her struggling towards you. 

As she approached, she placed her bucket beside you on the sand. She began to rifle through the shells, searching for something. Once she found it, she placed it delicately in her hand and held the shell out to you. The pink-toned, scalloped shell glittered in the late afternoon light, and she beamed at you as she offered it to you.

“It’s for you, Mommy!” she said excitedly, placing it into your cupped hands. “It has magical powers,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, looking at you as if she were telling you a crucial secret.

“Wow, honeybee,” you said, smiling gently. “It’s beautiful, just like my sweet girl…” You brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was sunbleached, lighter than it usually was. With the natural highlights and soft glow from being out in the sun, she looked even more like Sam. Your heart swelled with affection.

“What kind of magic powers does it have, Daisy Lou?” Sam asked, peering over at the shell with a proud smile on his face.

“I can’t tell you,” she said. Her expression shifted to mischief, “It’s a secret.”

“A secret?” Sam gasped dramatically, clutching his chest.

Daisy giggled, and you peered at Sam, feigning the same drama. “Uh oh, you know what that means…”

“A secret for a secret,” Sam and Daisy said in unison, the latter breaking out into giggles as you reached out to tickle her side. It was something she’d come up with recently, trading silly secrets in exchange for one from you or Sam. Sam adored playing along, and you quickly grew fond of listening to them trading their ‘secrets.’

“Who’s first?” you prompted.

“Dada, you first!” Daisy insisted.

Sam shook his head, “No way, Miss Daisy,” he said, “Dada went first last time, don’t you remember?”

She wrinkled her nose, but huffed in defeat. “Fine,” she said sassily, sticking her tongue out at Sam before leaning down to tell her secret. “The shell’s magic powers will make Mommy feel better,” she said quietly. You smiled sadly, knowing she had been worried about you for all these miserable weeks. 

“Wow,” said Sam, glancing between the two of you. “I think it’s working already,” he whispered, nodding towards your smiling face.

“It’s true,” you agreed, nodding. “I feel much better.”

“I knew it would work,” she said, matter-of-factly. Then, she turned to Sam expectantly. “Your turn, Dada.”

He smiled, then glanced at you as if asking for permission. You nodded. Now was as good a time as any.

“All right, but this is a very important secret,” Sam said, playing up the drama. You rolled your eyes. He always had to put on the theatrics for Daisy. She was giggling already, prepared for Sam to tell her something outrageous. 

“I’m good at holding secrets,” Daisy said. You watched her with stars in your eyes, adoring her little quirks and phrases. Even when Uncle Jake once tried explaining to her that the phrase was ‘keeping a secret,’ she refused to change it. You supposed holding a secret described it much better, anyway. You always held her little secrets close to your heart.

“You are, honeybee,” you agreed. You brushed some sand off of your magical shell, and watched her eyes widen as Sam began to speak again.

“Well, you know how Mommy has been really sick lately?”

Daisy nodded, looking at you briefly. She quickly returned her attention to Sam, enraptured.

“It’s because she has a tiny little baby in her tummy,” Sam said. He placed a large hand against your stomach, rubbing soft circles into your skin with his thumb. “Right here.”

“A baby in your tummy?” She blinked at you, her eyes as wide as saucers. “How did you get a baby in your tummy?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, I guess it was some kind of magic, Daisy Lou,” you said, winking at Sam. He grinned, leaning over and planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

“But you didn’t eat it?”

You wrinkled your nose, “No way.”

“How long is the baby gonna be in there?” She stepped closer, leaning down to peer at your stomach. You were barely showing, not enough for anyone else to notice and especially not enough for Daisy to notice. She screwed up her eyebrows and stared hard as she reached out to place her hand next to Sam’s. Her touch barely ghosted your skin, delicate as butterfly kisses. 

“Nine months,” you said.

“Then you’ll have a little brother or sister,” Sam continued. “Would you like that?”

She hummed to herself, mulling it over. “And I’ll be a big sister?” 

“You sure will.”

“Wow,” she said, straightening back up with a sparkle in her eyes. “Where will the baby sleep?”

You smiled. “Probably in our room, at least for a little while… We’ll figure it out.”

“And what will we name the baby?”

“We have plenty of time to decide,” Sam said. Daisy still seemed to be processing the information, though you were glad she seemed to be taking it well. A tiny smile brightened her expression as she looked curiously at your stomach.

“I hope it’s a baby sister,” she said. She peered at you as if she were going to decipher it just by looking at your stomach. “Maybe, we can name her Ocean…” Daisy waved her arms, gesturing to the expanse of water behind her. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Sam said. His expression was flooded with warmth and affection, his eyes glowing as he watched Daisy process the fact that she would be a big sister soon. You leaned into him, smiling as Daisy stared out into the water. 

“I think Ocean’s pretty,” you agreed. “That’s where our little piece of magic came from…”

“Can’t you just go without me?” you asked, brushing a loose strand of hair off of your shoulder. A frown shadowed your features as you met his eager eyes, and you felt worse for it. He was looking forward to going to the party, wanting to introduce you to his friends. It shamed you, but you knew you would feel even worse being shown off by him. Absentmindedly, you tugged at the fabric bunching around your hips, trying to loosen it a tad. You were beginning to wish you’d bought something ugly and shapeless; at least then you wouldn’t feel as if your every flaw was on display.

“But I don’t want to go without you.” His gaze fell. 

“I know it’s just—“ you breathed a deep sigh, “well, I just don’t think I’m going to fit in. There’s gonna be dozens of beautiful women, all of them fit and dressed to the nines… Supermodels, probably.” You scoffed, shaking your head. It was ridiculous that you’d even tried to get dressed up for this stupid party. How could you ever think you’d look nice enough to mingle with those girls?

“What are you talking about?”

Your voice shook as you spoke, “I’m talking about me, in this stupid dress.” You gestured down at it, eyeing the creamy silk and embroidered florals on the dress. It had been magnificent in the store, draped over the tiny mannequin’s frame like something out of a movie. But here you were, imagining the Instagram models and musicians at the party—all of them long and lithe and graceful.  

He finally stepped into the room, fingers brushing yours as he reached for your hand. You pulled away, wiping tears from your eyes before they could smear the makeup you worked so hard on. 

“I love you in this dress,” he said softly. Not thwarted by your attempt in avoiding him, he slid his hands gently up your arms. He grasped you by the shoulders, and met your eyes. “You look so pretty, like a fairy.”

You laughed bitterly. It was sweet of him to say, but you weren’t going for fairy. You wanted to be dazzlingly gorgeous like the rest of the women who perused alongside him, fashionable and en vogue. Instead, you felt juvenile. Like you were trying too hard to earn brownie points. 

“I don’t feel pretty,” you muttered, your voice dark. You refused to meet his eyes, feeling uglier by the second. The irritation and attitude were doing nothing to make things better; you knew you were being unfair in taking it out on him. You were frustrated that he wasn’t seeing your point.

He sighed, one hand tracing up to lift your chin so your gaze met his. “Is this going to make you feel better? Staying home while I go out?” His eyes were curious, but firm. He wasn’t going to allow you to act unreasonably.

“Yes,” you said, though it was a lie. You knew you would feel worse if he left you behind, but you thought it would give you some form of grim satisfaction. He could go out and mingle with beautiful women all night, and at least then you would have some sort of justification for the insecurity you were feeling.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “I’m not letting you sit here alone, pouting all night.” He released you from his grasp, and removed his suit jacket carefully. He kicked out of his loafers, leaving them haphazardly in the closet doorway.

You watched miserably. “If you want to go—“

“I’m not going without you. Now, we’re going to stand here until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Uh-uh,” he shook his head. “After all of that, you’re not blowing me off because you don’t want to talk about it.”

The tears were back, worse than before, now coupled with fresh waves of guilt. You were acting like such a brat. How could you deprive him of a night out with his friends because of your stupid insecurities? Your lip quivered as you looked at him, the words caught in your throat.

“It’s not the dress, is it?” he asked, voice soft. 

You shook your head. “No—It’s me… I just—looking in the mirror and noticing how much I don’t look like the other girls that hang out with your friends… I mean, they’re all super skinny and tall and have perfect makeup…” You trailed off, ashamed. You were jealous of them, envy burning deep in your chest each time you saw a candid photo of Sam crowded with a ton of his friends. You couldn’t go a day without comparing yourself, and you hated it. 

“Y/N,” he sighed, “I don’t care about any of those other girls.” He sat on the edge of the bed, grasping your hand and pulling you into the space between his legs. His knees caged you in, hands running comfortingly up and down your arms.

“How could you not?” you breathed, restraining yourself from breaking into sobs. Hot tears streamed over your cheeks, smearing your carefully applied cosmetics and making your eyes burn. “I’m nothing like them.”

He laughed humorlessly. “That’s why I love you, babydoll. If I wanted any of those girls I could have them, but I don’t. I only want you.” His fingers danced across your skin, the warmth of his touch comforting you slightly. 

You frowned, feeling worse at the affection that bloomed behind his irises. You knew you were ruining your night over nothing. You knew Sam loved you more than anything, yet here you were, hating yourself in this beautiful dress that you had been so excited to wear. The shame worsened your crying. At this, Sam’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you even closer. He pulled you down onto his lap, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His lips ghosted over the skin.

“Don’t cry, please,” he said, pleading. “You are so perfect, Y/N, I promise.”

You sniffled, trying to stifle your tears. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, wiping your face. “I-I didn’t mean to ruin our night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” His voice was gentle, his touch even more so. You felt his hand skimming down the open back of your dress, finding the zipper. “Let’s take this off, hmm?”

You nodded, standing to let him unzip the dress. Once unzipped, his hands trailed beneath the fabric, kneading the skin of your back and hips as he pushed it off of you. You let the straps fall down over your shoulders, sighing at the feeling of his touch. The dress slipped down to the floor. You stood there, bare chested and wearing nothing but a pair of no-show panties. 

“Is this okay?” Sam asked softly, his hands sliding up and down your sides. 

“Yes,” you breathed. You closed your eyes as his hands massaged your skin. The mirror in front of the bed was no friend to you now, and you didn’t want to see your own ruined gazed in the reflection. Eyes shut, you could just focus on the feeling of Sam’s careful touches.

His breath fanned over your skin, lips meeting your skin in slow, deliberate kisses. A shiver traveled over your body. Your hands found his, grasping them gently as he held you by the hips. His thumbs toyed with the waistband of your panties, as his mouth paid close attention to every inch of your back. 

“C’mere,” he said softly, pulling you down onto the bed. You perched between his legs, head leaning back on his shoulder. He hooked his hands beneath your knees, spreading your legs over his own to hold them open. You flushed, still refusing to open your eyes. He took in the sight of you in the reflection before you, eyes drinking in every detail of your exposed body. One of his large hands spread over your lower stomach, holding you steady, while the other trailed up to your chest. His fingers dipped between the valley of your breasts, then moved to brush over one of your hardened nipples. You sighed, settling into his embrace as he petted you gently. 

“Hey,” his voice was silken in your ear, “why won’t you look at me, doll?” His hand abandoned your chest, rising to cup your cheek and pull your face towards his. You forced your eyes open, finding his loving gaze. He kissed you delicately, as if you might break, and you relaxed into his touch. You tried to make peace with being vulnerable with him–he’d already seen all the best and worst parts of you, hadn’t he?

“Sorry,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Don’t be,” he responded, the hand on your stomach slipping down to your clothed center. His fingers circled the damp spot blooming through your panties, and you sighed against him. Your neck was craned in his direction, eyes on his concentrated face as he watched you in the mirror. Whimpers fell from your parted lips, his touch sending butterflies blooming through your lower half. His own mouth fell open, panting as he watched himself pleasure you in the reflection. 

The hand still cupping your cheek directed your gaze to the mirror; he moved the soaked fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your dripping folds to the air. You saw his fingers swirl around your clit, then dip into your center timidly. Your back arched against him, hips bucking out to meet his touch. You tore your eyes away from your own body, meeting his lustful gaze in the reflection. A tiny smirk played on his lips, noticing the way you began to writhe and twitch upon seeing yourself crumble beneath his skilled fingers. The intensity of his gaze elicited a moan from your lips, and you couldn’t help but look away. Your cheeks stained pink as sweat began to trail down over your temple.

“Don’t look away, my love,” his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “Keep your eyes on me, or I’ll stop.”

“Sammy, please–”

“Beg all you want, doll. If I don’t see those pretty little eyes soon, I’ll leave you here aching for me.”

You breathed sharply at his words; the warmth spreading through your center was incredible. The last thing you needed him to do was stop touching you. Forcing your eyes open, you met his salacious gaze in the mirror, his lip tucked between his teeth. He held your gaze for a moment, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes trailed down your own body. He had one hand holding you close, fingers twisting and rolling one of your nipples. His other fingers thrusted into you, curling up into your sweet spot. You mewled under his touch, reveling in the look that flashed over his face; the veins and muscles in his arm bulged as he increased his speed. 

The ill thoughts of your body were long gone now, as you watched the way your body rolled into his touch. You held eye contact with him as you approached your release, a fire bubbling in your stomach as you got closer and closer. He held you in place against him without any trouble. His arms were secure around you, even as you shook and writhed in his grasp. Your chest heaved, your entire lower body clenching as he fingered you with more intensity. He was grunting behind you, your ass grazing his clothed cock with each tiny movement.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he muttered in your ear, his voice throaty. The sound of it sent a jolt through you, your center tightening around his digits. He moaned at the feeling, attaching his lips to your neck to suck a dark mark into the skin. “You gonna give it to me, honey? Gonna cum all over my fingers? Make a mess for me?”

You whined in reply, nodding your head. He grinned, teeth grazing your skin. If possible, he increased the speed of his ministrations more. You thrashed in his grasp at the feeling, crying out, “Sammy– fuck, I’m so close…”

“I know,” he murmured in that low, saccharine tone. “Make a mess for me, doll. Let go for me–”

A high-pitched cry tore from your lips as you finally reached your release. Warmth spread through your seizing muscles, ecstasy blooming over your entire body as you came. His fingers never slowed once, guiding you through your orgasm as you clenched and tightened around them. His eyes were pleased, cocky as you fucked yourself desperately onto his fingers. He loved having you spread open, the mess of your release dripping down onto the sheets beneath you, soaking them through. 

“Oh, please–” you hissed, his digits still curling inside of you. The overstimulation made your thighs tremble weakly. Your mind spun, the drunken haze of your orgasm muddying your thoughts. “Sammy, ah, I’m sensitive…”

He chuckled lightly. “I can see that, pretty girl,” he whispered against your neck. His fingers slipped out of you, leaving you feeling empty. You whined at the feeling, grasping his wrist as he trailed up to your clit, circling it slowly. “Are you too sensitive for me to fuck you?” He asked, his tone teasing.

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, no, please, I need it.”

“What do you need, hm?” You felt his eyes on you in the reflection, gauging your reaction to his words. “Tell me what you need…”

“Your cock, please–” you pleaded, your voice hoarse. “I want you to fuck me, Sammy. Please fuck me.” 

His cock strained against his pants at the sound of your begging. He seemed to be satisfied. It took him half a second to free his cock from his pants, not even bothering to remove them completely. One hand guided his length to your entrance, while the other gripped your thigh to hold your legs open. The muscles of your legs trembled at being in the same position for so long, but the pain was numbed by the stretch of him pushing inside of you. A sharp cry echoed from your mouth, and your eyes fluttered closed.

“Ah, ah,” he said, “Remember my rules, honey.”

You nodded, peeling your eyes open. “I–I’m sorry,” you gasped, your nails digging into his arm as he fucked up into you. “Sorry, Sammy. Please don’t stop…”

He smiled. “There’s my sweet girl,” he cooed. “So obedient for me, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you said, holding his gaze. His eyes drank you in, enthralled by the sight of you being split open by his cock. You saw his eyes trail down to his cock driving into your center, the mess of fluids glistening on your thighs and pelvic bone. His brows furrowed as he watched himself fucking you; you groaned at the sight. 

“Look at yourself,” he commanded, nodding towards your limp frame in the mirror. “All pretty crying like this for me… How could you ever think I’d want anyone else spread open for me, hm?”

“I-I don’t know,” you whined, the feeling of his length hitting so deep inside of you making your vision go spotty.

“I only want you, are we clear?” He snapped his hips up into yours, his thrusts growing sharper.

You nodded.

“Words, honey,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, we’re clear,” your voice tore from your throat, and he made a satisfied sound. Somehow, he seemed to be going deeper and deeper with each thrust, driving all the thoughts from your head. You could barely function, garbled moans of his name and other praise ringing through the room. It was taking everything in you to keep your eyes open and on the mirror; the view of the two of you in the reflection was doing nothing to help you hold on, either. You were barrelling quickly towards your second orgasm. 

“Gonna cum again? All pretty around my cock?”

“Yes,” you cried out, throat burning. He swirled a couple fingers around your clit, sending your entire body shaking at the feeling. That, coupled with his length brushing your g-spot had you disintegrating into his touch. Your mouth went slack, eyes locked on his as you approached your second orgasm. There was an intense pressure blooming in your lower stomach. 

“Look at that,” he said, voice dripping with sweetness as he urged you towards your release. “You like watching yourself fall apart on my cock, don’t you, my love?”

You opened your mouth, but couldn’t form any words. Only lewd, mewling noises.

“That’s okay, honey… You don’t have to say it. This pussy tightening around me says it all,” he said, still smug. Then, he moaned quietly at the feeling of you clenching hard around him. “There it is… Let go for me again.”

You did as he said, your entire body going lax as your second orgasm washed over you. The pressure in your lower belly expelled all at once, a feeling unlike anything you’d experienced before. There was a surprised sound from Sam behind you, then an unfamiliar groan from him. Waves of euphoria washed over you, your hips bucking at Sam’s touch as you rode out your orgasm. As you came down, you noticed that things were messier than usual, the sheets and legs of Sam’s pants soaked through with your arousal.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, still fucking you. “You looked so sweet, squirting all over my fingers and my cock…” His brows pulled together as his pace began to stutter. You felt his cock twitching inside of you, still brushing the spot that made your head spin. You were practically drooling, your eyelids drooping closed as he chased his high.

“Feels too good,” you mumbled drunkenly, your head falling onto his shoulder. You did your best to hold yourself up as he thrusted up into you, but he was doing the majority of the work. You eyed the bulging muscles of his arms as he held you up, your mouth watering. 

“You can take it, sweet girl,” he said, concentrated. He was so close, you could tell by the waver in his silken voice. “You can take my cum, can’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you confirmed. “I can take it. Please…”

A contented chuckle left his lips, and he snapped his hips up into you a couple more times. You began to roll your hips down onto him as you felt the muscles of his abdomen clenching harshly.

“Oh, fuck, take it,” he groaned, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you as he finally reached his high. Your pussy clenched around him, urging him through his orgasm as he held you in place. You cried out his name, still rutting against him as the final waves of his release rolled over him. “You’re so good for me, doll,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against your shoulder as the two of you were finally still.

The two of you were quiet for a moment, unmoving as you both caught your breath. Then, you felt him shift underneath you, and his hand cupped your cheek again. He directed your attention to the mirror, where you could see the mess dripping out of your swollen cunt, a mixture of his cum and your own release. The sheets around you and a small portion of the floor at the end of the bed were soaked with your squirt, and your face flushed pink.

“I really made a mess, huh?” you asked, slightly embarrassed. 

“You looked so beautiful doing it,” he said, amused. “Fuck, the look on your face while you were squirting all over my cock. Better than any fucking party.” He placed a sloppy kiss against your cheek, holding you gently as he pulled out of you. 

You laughed softly, settling back onto the bed. He ran a hand over your stomach, caressing the skin gently. He leaned down and placed a kiss against the soft skin, nipping softly at the place beneath your navel.

“Think you can do it again?” He asked, face framed by your legs as he pushed them open.