Through Me (The Flood)

18+ sexual content / happy Friday!

"I'm sorry." Your face is wet with tears, and Simon's stomach pitches as it always does when you're upset.

"It's okay honey," he tries to wipe them away, frantically sweeping his thumbs across your cheeks, "it's okay. It's not a big deal."

"I c-can't remember anything, I've never been like this. It's pregnancy brain." You bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking, and wail. "I'm stupid!"

"You're not stupid." He was outside with Ry when you started yelling and cussing, smell of smoke wafting from the kitchen windows. You burnt dinner. Left it in the oven too long. By the time they made it inside, you had already tossed it in the trash and started sobbing. "It happens, it's okay."

It really was okay. He forced you to go lay down, made a frozen pizza and fed Ry.

"I'm sorry I'm so cranky." He cups your face.

"Mama, stop apologizing to me. I wouldn't care if you burnt the house down." He waffles. "As long as you weren't inside it, of course." You give him a small smile.

"Christ Si, that's extreme."

"I know, C'mon." He dips his fingers in the water, ensuring it's the right temperature. It can't be too hot, but your doctor assured something in the 90s range was fine. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's alright." You rub your face, and relent, putting your hand in his as he guides you into the bath.

The tub was something you had put in after he bought the house. It's huge. Big enough the both of you can fit in it comfortably, deep enough you never see your knees or your belly. He shifts you forward, climbing in behind you and then pulls you back in between his legs and into his chest. "How's that?"

"It's good." You murmur, relaxing as he rubs your shoulders.

"I don't want you getting all stressed out about things like this," he kisses the side of your head, "it's not good for you or the baby. Alright?"

"Okay." You're still sniffling, and his heart aches a little bit.

But he knows how to fix it. 

He strokes his hand over your rounded belly, dipping under the water to push your thighs wide and trace his thumb up and down the seam of your folds, his lips on your neck. "If you're not gonna relax, I'm going to do it for you."

"Okay," you say breathlessly. He thumbs your clit, coaxing it, and you flex, back arching. You're much more sensitive now, going off like a bomb every time he touches you, coming on his dick so fast he sees stars every time.

He rubs your clit in methodical circles. Takes his time. Teases you slowly, enjoys the way your hips jerk, how you pant into his neck, whining.

"Simon."

"Does that feel good?" He smirks. He loves you like this. Whiny. Breathless. Falling apart in his arms. He loves you every way, but this is extra special.

"Y-yeah, please..."

"Please what?" He increases the speed, playing back and forth, sliding down to where you're pulsing for him and back up, rubbing the small, swollen nub. "Please make you come?" He presses hard, your back arches and you moan.

"Daddy-" your fingers dig into his knees. "Don't s-stop, don't-"

"Come for me, mama." You do, hard. It's always hard now, explosive, and he holds you steady even when your thighs snap shut around his forearm. "Good girl." His palm cups your belly, slowly moving over the rounded curve where the baby is. His baby, that he's having with you. Again. The baby that he gets to be here for, from the beginning. That gets to be a little sibling to the smartest, bravest little boy he knows.

He closes his eyes, swallowing the emotion surging in his heart.

"I love you." He kisses your temple, and you sigh.

"I love you too."