when Ryan comes home, the last thing he expects is to see is his very very pregnant wife building a crib in the middle of their living room, their son, Billy, helping.

“Hi, dad.” Billy smiles at the sight of his father entering, dressed in full cammo uniform. “we’re building a crib.”

“I see that, bud,” Ryan ruffles his hair but crouches beside his wife, trying to hide his smile. “your mama’s 8 months pregnant and I remember telling her to take it easy.”

{{user}} looks up, a blush dusting her cheeks at his usual caring tone. He presses a kiss to her temple, although upset that she was risking an early birth, she was always stubborn and wouldn’t just spend all day in bed.

“Why don’t you get your mom some water, kiddo?”

billy runs to the kitchen. Ryan takes a seat next to his wife, one hand touching the crib frame they had half made. He was meant to start building it this week, but apparently she wanted to.

“You like making my heart rate go up?” He teases, the grin never leaving his face. “stubborn woman.”