He starts to snore softly, head tilted back against the couch, your cheek laid on his lap, his eyes drowsy.

Though his eyes flickered open once you flicked his forehead playfully.

"Hey, you put on a football match, you watch the football match." you grin, nuzzling up against his midriff.

" 'M 'pologies." he chuckles, giving your soft under thigh a squeeze, and a tickle across your stretched baby bump. You're so much cuter to him like this, slightly rounder about the edges and a tad plumper too, since you're eating for two. He adores it.

You've started to adore how he was beginning to look too. My, how you've been a true Mrs. Riley to him. He's a bit softer too, physically. Strong as an ox still, but already starting to look like a proper dad. Walking around the house in a white wifebeater and boxers, doing chores because you can't, the slightest image of a beer belly poking out. A dream man, for sure. Perfect.

"More snacks, luv?" he hums, giving the empty popcorn bowl a shake, only the unpopped kernels clinking in it, and pressed his lips to your temple, admiring your glow.