you're pregnant and simon riley doesn't let you lift a finger.
it had only been a few months since you found out you were pregnant, barely long enough to grasp the fact that you were going to be parents.
simon watched you more closely now, he noticed the way your belly started to show, the way your body was drained by late afternoon, the way he'd find you still sleeping after a morning run, the way your hand anxiously drifted to your stomach when people approached you.
so when you reach your apartment after a long day out, simon didn't hesitate to let his duffel bag slide off his shoulder and thud to the floor, turning his broad back to you, lowering himself into a deep crouch. his hands reached back, gently guiding your legs to hook around his hips.
"si, i can walk. i'm too heavy!" you started, but he cut you off with a low snort, nonsense, which meant no amount of arguing would change it. you eventually draped your arms over his massive shoulders and let your chin rest against the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him.
you've felt nauseous for the past few weeks. you couldn't bear the smell of any sort of food. the mere scent of coffee or the neighbor's cooking sent you running to the bathroom. only simon's smell put you at ease.
he hoisted you up easily, as if you weighted nothing. his hands, rough and scarred, secured its grip beneath your thighs, holding you steady. when you felt him adjust his hold, shifting your weight slightly to keep you balanced, you murmured "you can put me down now, si", your lips brushing the shell of his ear. he tughtened his grip in response .
simon's pace was slow, not from fatigue, but because he was being careful, placing each boot deliberately, avoiding the creaky steps he'd been meaning to fix for months.
you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, feeling the slight stubble scrape your lips, and he tilted his head just enough to glance at you from the corner of his eye, his expression softening.
when he finally reached your door, he didn't set you down right away, he just stood there for a moment, your arms still wrapped around his neck, your belly pressed against his warm back.
he carried you to the sofa and lowered you down like you carefully, then knelt down to untie your shoes. when you tried to get up, he gave you a look and gently pushed you back against the cushions, muttering, "stay here."
he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a small bowl of strawberries. he'd noticed that they were the only thing you could keep down. he settled beside you on the sofa, holding the bowl in his lap and feeding you one piece at a time, his thumb brushing your lower lip after each bite, watching you with that tenderness that made you feel the luckiest girl in the world.