#angrygingexreader

She looked lost in her car seat, like you’d been entrusted with something sacred. Her hands balled into little fists held to her pouty lips.

Every time you looked at her you welled up, her mere presence alone solving every issue in your life.

“Let’s get my girls home then” Morgan clapped his hands together, instantly regretting it as the loud noise caused Tilly to stir.

“It’s okay princess, daddy is loud. You’ll have to get used to him I’m afraid” you cooed, fingers tracing the slope of her nose.

You thought Morgan was fit before he got you pregnant? Watching him carrying that car seat like it was effortless was a whole different level.

How soon is too soon for baby number 2?

After he insured Tilly was secured in the back, he helped you into the back seat before settling into his own.

The Merc had never moved so slowly in its life. Morgan was almost hesitant to drive, scared any sudden movement would damage his precious cargo. Morgan from last week would hate dad driver Morgan.

You were mesmerised in the back seat, barely noticing the streets passing outside. Matilda’s tiny hand curled around your finger, impossibly strong for something so new. Little squeaks escaped her as she held on, as if making sure you were still there.

Cold air nipped at your skin as you left the car, you wrapped your arms around yourself - not before double checking Tilly was snug underneath her blanket.

Stepping through the threshold nothing had changed in the two days you’d been gone. But everything had changed, you left this house as a woman and you’ve returned a mummy.

Morgan’s collection of football boots still overtook the shoe rack, Tv remote still haphazardly on the sofa - even your forgotten mug of tea abandoned on the table. A snapshot of your old life.

Hesitantly Morgan placed the car seat on the floor in front of the sofa, making sure you’d sat comfortably before handing her over to you.

“Still doesn’t feel real does it” Your nose nuzzled into her soft curls, breathing in her scent.

“Not at all, can you believe we’ve been trusted with a whole life?” He chuckled, lowering himself beside you.

“They’re proper idiots” You both chuckled softly, soaking up the love in the room.

You shifted slightly against the cushions, instantly wincing as your body reminded you that forty-eight hours ago you’d pushed a whole ass human into the world.

Morgan clocked it immediately.

“Oi,” he murmured, already halfway to standing. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” you lied automatically.

He raised an eyebrow. “You just fought a small war, babe. You’re not moving from that spot”

Before you could argue he disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later juggling a your Stanley cup, your favourite snacks, your phone charger, and the fluffiest blanket in the house.

You laughed weakly as he started tucking the blanket around your legs.

“Comfy?”

Matilda stirred between you, tiny mouth stretching open in a silent yawn that made both of you freeze. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks. One hand escaped the blanket, fingers flexing slowly until they brushed your hoodie.

Morgan’s hand found yours automatically, squeezing tight. Blue eyes wide in awe.

“She’s ours,” he whispered, almost like he still couldn’t believe it.

Emotion rose so suddenly it stole the breath from your lungs. Your eyes burned before you even realised you were crying, not loud sobs, just quiet tears slipping down your cheeks.

Morgan panicked instantly.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurting? Do we need to call someone?”

“I just… I love you both so much it actually hurts.” You laughed through it, shaking your head.

His expression softened in a way you’d never seen before. Softer than boyfriend, softer than life partner. Father.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, lingering there.

“You did that,” he murmured. “You made her.”

Your throat tightened.

“We made her… look at her face, she’s definitely all you”

Matilda let out a small protesting squeak, face scrunching as reality interrupted the moment. Forget ever having a sweet moment with your boyfriend again.

“Oi, what’s up with you little one” Morgan cooed to your newborn, one of his fingers petting her squishy cheeks.

“I think she’s hungry”

You shifted her weight against you, putting her in the correct position to feed from you.

Morgan watched in amazement, the whole world shrinking around the three of you. Just this transcendent moment, her weight against your chest and soft suckles coming from her mouth.

Outside street lights began coming on as night approached, telly a low hum in the background.

Once she’d had her fill, been burped and changed exhaustion started seeping in. Morgan insisted you stayed put as he triple checked he’d locked the door, prepared the nappy bag to take to bed and gotten you a fresh bottle of water for overnight.

Making your way up to your room was relatively stress free. Both of you anxious about dropping her on the was up the stairs but no crisis occurred.

“It doesn’t seem fair that she’s got to sleep all alone in that basket when she’s been nicely tucked between us for nine months” Morgan claimed as you moved her heartbeat Teddy from the Moses basket, a placeholder that you didn’t need anymore.

“Feels proper mean doesn’t it” Your default lip pout made an appearance. A default Morgan couldn’t help but see in his daughter as well.

Eventually, reluctantly, hesitantly you placed her in her bed, tucking her in loosely.

The pair of you just sat at the edge of your bed, peering in at her. Making sure she was still breathing. Making sure she was definitely real. Falling in love in ways you didn’t know existed.

“We probably look like right weirdos” Your boyfriend mumbled, however his stance didn’t falter.

“Yeah probably” you agreed

After a few Morgan’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you tightly into him. Your eyes felt heavy as you let the comfort and familiarity wash over you.

Eventually the heaviness behind your eyes became too much and the two of you got into bed, properly. Matilda sleeping peacefully in her basket beside you.

House filled with love, safety and warmth.

Quickly a new normal settled into your home. You’d wake through the night, an argument Morgan was forced to back down from, letting Morgan rest. It wasn’t like he could do anything, Tilly couldn’t latch onto him for her milk.

Morgan did the mornings, letting you feed her and soak up the morning snuggles. He’d change her, play with her - well as much as you could play with a newborn anyways.

Michelle and Julie had pre-warned him about how wild hormones were after birth. The horrors of post-partum mental decline, self neglect. He didn’t want you to feel any of that, he was doing everything in his power to ease the burden.

He helped you keep up with your skin care and hair routine - being a mum didn’t mean you weren’t a person anymore.

Tilly was his biggest blessing, yours too. He didn’t want her to change the core of person he fell in love with.

Michelle had met Matilda in the hospital, bringing Julie along with her. It was emotional, charged atmosphere as they saw the angry streamer panic about his precious bundle in their arms - as if he wasn’t standing there because the two of them had raised him.

Michelle popped round everyday with dinner for the two of you, another weight lifted off your shoulders, as you settled into a routine and your body recovered.

Julie cried when she learned of Matilda’s name. Matilda Julie Burtwistle, middle name of the queen herself. The highest honour granted to her by her only grandson.

Today you were planning on your first trip out - nothing major. Family dinner at Nana Julie’s house, with her decreasing mobility you wanted to make the effort to show up for her with her namesake.

Plus you really wanted to do your makeup again, even just to sit in Nana’s living room. Miss Tilly really stole all your beauty as she made her appearance.

“Do you think I’ll be able to squeeze into my jeans?” You called over to Morgan, he was sat patting Tilly’s back - her head cradled on his shoulder.

He looked ethereal. Bare chested, hand the same size as your daughter’s back, hair a perfect mess atop his head, eyes hazy with sleep but full of contentment.

He looked like a dad.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckled, tongue running over his bottom lip as he gave you a once over.

“Fuck off…” your own laugh melded together with his. “You’re a proper dilf it’s distracting”

All you got in reply was a shake of his head.

As quickly as possible with a baby and various wonderful post birth fluids that seeped from you, the three of you were ready to go.

Matilda was in the sweetest little Winnie the Pooh baby grow, little yellow ears on her hat really tying together the look. Morgan was in one of his seemingly infinite united tops and a random pair of joggers. Blessedly you managed to fit into a pair of jeans, the largest pair of jeans you owned, and a woollen jumper.

You actually looked like a proper little family.

A bag bigger than Morgan’s weekend away bag was stashed in the car for your few hours out. Matilda bundled in a fluffy pink blanket was secured in the car, Morgan triple checking he’d definitely done it up right.

It was a quick drive to Nana Julie’s house. She was already standing at the threshold as you pulled up the curb, anticipating your impending arrival.

Her hand came to her mouth the moment Morgan rounded the car with Tilly’s car seat in his grasp. No words escaped her, not yet. She just took in the three of you.

“Hi Nana” your arms loosely wrapped around her frame.

“Look at you!” Voice thick with emotion. “All my babies back under my roof!”

Morgan scoffed, wrapping his free arm around his nan.

“Don’t start crying Julie!” He scolded. “You’ll set off the bairn”

He was shifting on his feet, not used to something so serious. So emotional. So real. He didn’t know where to place himself, he bloody grew up in this house he’d should be long past the feeling awkward stage.

“She’s just eaten before we left the house nan” He spoke quietly. “Why don’t you let us in and you can give her a cuddle?”

Seemingly snapping back to reality she quickly ushered you inside, closing the door against the chilly breeze.

The three of you sat scattered around the lounge, Morgan gently lifted Matilda. Briefly holding her against his chest before handing her over to her namesake.

“I know I saw her in that hospital room” Julie started, eyes glassy. “But this feels so different, too clinical. She belongs here, in the house her mummy and daddy grew up in”

A powerful emotion clawed at your chest, a deep sense of home settling within you. For the first time since leaving the hospital, you didn’t feel like someone pretending to be a mum. Sitting in this room, surrounded by the people who raised him, who welcomed you long before this baby existed, you finally felt like you belonged to the same story she did.

“Oh Matilda Julie” Tears escaped her eyes as she looked down at the baby girl in her arms.

Then she looked up to Morgan, the cheeky little boy she helped raise. The same boy that argued with her for weeks when they decided at age 14 the two of you were definitely not sharing a bed at sleepovers anymore.

“I can’t believe you’ve actually done it Morgan. You’re a dad” You could feel the pride radiating from her.

Morgan reached out a hand, a thumb stroking his Nana’s shoulder.

“I still don’t believe it either Nana, she’s perfect isn’t she?”

“I’ve imagined what she’d look like since you told me you were pregnant” she admitted. “But she’s so much better than any thing I could’ve thought up”

Her hand soothed over the creases in Tilly’s face. Morgan’s eyes found yours across the room - missing puzzle pieces slotting together.

The spell was broken by the door creaking open, Michelle and Tasha shouting hello down the corridor.

“Saw the car outside” Tasha said as she walked into the room. “How are yous doing, and little Tilly?”

You smiled up at her, moving slightly on the couch so she had a space to sit down.

“Were good, she has her dads attitude - so we’re proper lucky”

You both chucked as Morgan made a noise of protest.

“She makes that same sound” you exclaimed pointing at him.

Michelle made her presence known, simmering the argument before it had a chance to take shape.

“Right mum, shall we go to the kitchen and get dinner finished? Let the kids have a catch up?”

Reluctantly Julie handed Matilda over to Morgan before the two of them started pottering around in the kitchen. Distant sounds of plates clashing and pots bubbling away floated to the lounge.

The homely scent of dinner being prepared got a low rumble from your stomach as the three of you chatted aimlessly on the sofa. Tilly secure in her Auntie Tasha’s arms.

“Kids, dinner” called through the hall.

“Suddenly I’m 12 again and about to get shouted at for refusing to eat my brussell sprouts” You whispered between the three of you as you all stood.

“Think she’ll smack his head with the wooden spoon for stealing food off your plate again?” Tasha giggled.

“You two shut up right” Morgan mumbled as he shifted the baby against his chest. “You’re laughing now but it was clearly elite flirting - stole her scran now I’m the father of her child. I stay winning”

It was the same table as all those years ago, everyone automatically slotting into their predetermined spots. You and Morgan on one side, Tasha and Michelle across from you and Julie at the head of the table - queen at her throne.

Except this time a small rocking chair was slotted on the floor between Morgan and your seats. A symbol of change in your normality.

No time was wasted before a plate, piled big enough for at least three, was placed in front of you. Another plate, piled even higher, placed in front of Morgan.

“You need proper food” Julie stressed. “Need all the energy you can get when you’re looking after a baby”

Morgan instantly shoved a roast potato in his mouth, gravy already slipping out the corners of his mouth.

“Reader” Tasha started, face contorted in disgust at her brother. “How did you let that thing get you pregnant”

You shrugged, soft laugh escaping.

“Felt sorry for the bloke didn’t I?”

Finally lifting his neck from the hunched position over his place he turned to you. Mouth full of roast, indignant noise escaping through the chewed up dinner.

“Why am I catching strays here?”

“Morgan! Don’t talk with your mouth full” Michelle reached across the table and swatted his bicep.

“Right hold on, why is everyone attacking me today? Is it because I’m the only bloke? What a fucking joke!”

As if sensing her dad’s protest Matilda grumbled from the chair between you. Instinctively Morgan was reaching for her, smoothing the curls that framed her face.

“Oh are you mad at daddy too, eh?” He cooed down to her. “Little miss need attention does she?”

Matilda settled almost instantly against his chest, tiny fists curling into the fabric of his shirt, suckling against nothing - the sound soothing both her and the adults around her.

“There we go, princess” Morgan murmured, rocking slightly in his chair without even realising he was doing it. “Drama queen, Take after mummy, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” you shot back. “She’s inherited your need to be the centre of attention.”

Julie watched the two of them quietly from the head of the table, fork paused mid-air.

“I used to do that with you,” she said softly.

Morgan glanced up. “What?”

“That little bounce,” she nodded toward his absentminded rocking. “You wouldn’t sleep unless someone walked you round the kitchen at three in the morning, Drove your grandad mad”

Tasha burst out laughing. “So nothing’s changed then”

Morgan rolled his eyes but you saw it, that brief flicker of emotion he never quite knew what to do with. Overwhelming, all consuming.

A small, satisfied smile graced her lips as she pointed her fork Morgan’s plate - “Eat your sprouts!”

“I’m 24 now Nana” he complained. “I’ve created new life and you’re still forcing me into eating bloody sprouts. Have a day off”

“I don’t think you did much work creating her” Julie scoffed. “You ate them as a kid, you’ll eat them now. Set a good example for Matilda!”

He groaned, adjusting his grip on the baby so she was secured with one hand. Free hand stabbing a sprout with his fork before dramatically popping it into his mouth.

“Happy” He spat out around the mushed up food in his mouth, Tasha cackled at his disgusted expression.

“Still not like them, son?” Michelle laughed.

“I think you all enjoy my suffering way too much”

Conversations continued flowing. When everyone was seemingly distracted you reached across and stole a roast potato from Morgan’s plate, wasting no time in popping it in your mouth.

“OI!”

You gave him a cheeky grin. The other adults laughing at the easy banter between you.

“That’s right love!” Julie chuckled approvingly. “You keep him in line”

Morgan leaned closer to you, voice low enough only you (and by default Matilda) could hear.

“You realise, when I decided to start flirting with you it was by stealing food off your plate - you’re not slick”

Your heart did that stupid, traitorous little flip it always did around him.

“Well…” you mumbled back. “Worked out alright in the end didn’t it?”

He smiled at you, not the over performative streamer smile, not the flirty boyfriend smirk.

Happy in a way that seeped into his bones and oozed out his pores.

Conversation carried on around the table, laughter folding into the clink of cutlery and Julie’s familiar scolding echoing through the kitchen.

Matilda slept soundly against Morgan’s chest, completely unaware she’d already become the centre of an entire world.

Home had never felt so full.

The boys lasted a week before they ambushed you at home. Desperate to meet the smallest bov member.

Excessive chatter ceased immediately as they huddled at the threshold of the living room.

You hadn’t made an effort - there was a half drank cuppa on the table, hair thrown up in a bun, hoodie definitely stained in some sort of newborn excrement.

Morgan didn’t look much better, stubble littered his face, he was wearing a beanie to disguise his untameable hair and he too sported stains down his top curtesy of Tilly.

As you sat cradling your baby girl to your chest you couldn’t help but laugh at them. The usually over performative males turned mute at the sight of an infant, surely this moment needed document.

Morgan’s deep laugh broke the spell as they eventually tumbled in, finding a space to slot into around you.

“She’s so small” Chazza whispered, leaning closer to her. “Can’t believe one of us actually has one of these now”

“She’s a bloody baby not a 1 of 1, chaz” Beano scoffed. “Has one of these, think all women are objects even the wee ones”

Chazza shoved Beano’s arm playfully. Nervous energy exuding them all, you’d never seen them so shy before. Hands in pockets, eyes darting around the room like they didn’t quite know where to look.

Matilda made a small noise against your chest, wriggling slightly in your grip. All the men in the room snapped their attention to you. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Jesus Christ, she’s a baby not a bomb!”

“I dunno reader” Mikey said, full seriousness. “Ginges hairs made of fire maybe she got something from him”

“Right, fuck off you”, Morgan shook his head, leaning back in his chair. He let the silence stretch a minute before nodding his head in your direction. “Who wants a hold?”

Voices overlapped instantly.

“Ah no I’m fine”, “I’ll drop her”, “I haven’t trained yet”, “she looks comfy where she is”

“You lads play 6 a side every week, and your kryptonite is a 10 day old baby?”

Tilly’s chubby fist escaped her blanket almost as if to agree with her dad, her uncles were idiots.

Chazza visibly melted beside you. “Oh I think she’s reaching for me you know”

“Must be a tragic judge of character” Mikey got out before a full body laugh took over him.

You rolled your eyes, used to the boys behaviour by now, gently adjusting Matilda into Chazza’s arms.

“Just cradle her as if she were Sid, protect her head. Perfect”

Tilly settled against his chest, impossibly small against him. The room was quiet again, soft this time.

Chazza stared at her in awe. Still in disbelief his best mate was a dad, he was holding his freshly born baby in his arms.

“Nah I want a go, can I have a go reader”

“Wait your turn, she’s bonding with her uncle Charlie now Jake” Chazza replied, cautiously twisting so his back faced Jake.

Morgan moved to hand over your daughter, he trusted his friends with his life - but they weren’t passing around his baby. Hold her stationary? Yeah no problem. They weren’t moving her or with her.

“You ready Jakey?” Morgan hesitated, his nose nuzzling into Matilda’s soft copper curls.

Jakey nodded in reply, eyes wide - face full of fear.

“Right she’s really delicate okay? You can relax your arms Jakey, she’ll not settle if you’re like a statue. Yeah cradle her head - I’m going to let go now, you definitely got her?”

Jakey nodded rapidly, swallowing hard. “Yeah, yeah I’ve got her.”

Morgan didn’t move. Still hovering. Still checking.

“You sure?”

“Yes Ginge” Jakey laughed nervously. “I’m not gonna break your kid”

Only then did Morgan slowly release his grip, hands lingering a second longer than necessary before stepping back.

Jakey froze the moment Matilda settled against him. Completely still. Like breathing wrong might shatter her. The other boys watched in silence.

Tilly blinked slowly, stretching one tiny hand against his hoodie before letting out a soft, content sigh.

“Oh… oh she’s warm,” he whispered, sounding genuinely shocked. “She’s like… proper real.”

“Course she’s real you melon,” Beano snorted, though his voice had softened without him noticing.

Jakey didn’t look up from the bundle in his arms.

“She’s tiny, man,” he said quietly. “How do you trust yourself with something this small?”

“Honestly?” Morgan leaned aback, one arm coming to wrap around your shoulders. “You don’t, everything is terrifying. Like one small move and I’ve ruined the rest of her life. Just have to crack on I suppose - she needs us”

You softened against him, placing a quick kiss on his collar bone.

Mikey cleared his throat, getting ready to break the serious atmosphere.

“Well, luckily she didn’t get your nose mate”

Laughter escaped you all, normality seeping back into the house. Conversations started overlapping, voices raised, someone getting gently bullied.

Phones appeared, everyone getting a proud uncle pic to post once you made a public announcement. Jealous girlfriends replying in the group chat that they weren’t currently having newborn cuddles.

Obviously Tilly needed more attention as she let out a tiny squeak against Beano’s shoulder.

“What wrong with her?” He froze, for someone with as many siblings as him he was the last person you expected to be unsure around your daughter.

“Probably wants her mums boobies, can’t say I blame her” You swatted Morgan’s arm the second his sentence was uttered.

“What? Can’t appreciate my girlfriend anymore?”

Morgan stepped forward again, instinct taking over as he gathered her back into his arms. The transition was seamless now, confident hands, gentle sway already starting as he rested her against his shoulder as you adjusted your clothing.

“Right pass her over” you reached out for her.

Morgan’s hands hovered over her back as you shifted her until she was comfortably latched on. Soft suckling filling the once again silent room.

Five grown men suddenly discovering intense interest in absolutely anything except where your baby currently was.

Beano picked up the TV remote, the TV wasn’t even on.

“…So this is a nice remote” he announced to nobody just trying to find something to fill the silence.

Mikey stared aggressively at the living room door, like it was the most interesting thing in the universe.

“That always been there?” He asked suddenly, actually pointing to the door.

“Our door? Yeah mate our door has always been there” Morgan laughed.

Jakey had turned 90 degrees, back ramrod straight facing you.

“I’m being respectful!” He defended before anyone had a chance to ask.

“Very respectful atmosphere happening right now” Chazza nodded, facing straight ahead of him.

Morgan took in his 4 closest mates for a second, completely unimpressed.

“You know she’s feeding a baby” he began dryly. “Not staring in a porno”

“That’s your Mrs mate!” Mikey exclaimed. “We don’t know where to look!”

“Maybe her face?”

The four of them immediately turned and made direct eye contact with the wall above your head.

Too intense. Uncomfortably intense.

You and Morgan burst out laughing, Tilly whining in protest. Clearly not a fan of milkshake, noted.

“Oh my god… they’re just boobs” you shot out.

“Told you lot years ago they were class” Morgan smirked beside you, eyes zoning in on your chest.

“King!” Beano exclaimed. “Those comments really don’t help”

“Can you let me know when it’s safe to look” Jakey returned to having his back facing you.

Tilly made a soft, contented hum against your skin. Despite themselves all the boys eyes snapped to her. Silence.

“Mental” Chazza whispered. “She just, knows what to do”

The humour softened the moment again, embarrassment slowly ebbing away the longer Tilly fed.

Morgan’s thumb absently stroked your shoulder, eyes flitting between you and Tilly - unable to make up their mind on who to focus on.

“See? Nothing to feel weird about, they’re both sound”

The boys all smiled softly warmth settling in the room.

“She’s definitely the boss of us now isn’t she?” Mikey shook his head as he spoke.

“Without a doubt, bro” Chazza agreed easily.

Tilly finished feeding with a sleepy sigh, milk-drunk and heavy against your chest. Morgan reached automatically, lifting her carefully and settling her high on his shoulder.

She burped loudly.

The boys erupted into cheers like she’d scored a last-minute winner.

You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

“Unreal,” Beano grinned. “Proper queen behaviour already.”

Morgan shook his head, smiling helplessly as he looked down at his daughter, then back at his friends.

“God help her,” he muttered fondly. “Look at the state of her uncles.”

Chazza puffed his chest out proudly. “Elite male role models, actually.”

Matilda made a tiny sleepy noise, fingers curling into Morgan’s shirt.

And just like that, the lads settled around her again closer this time, easier, no hesitation left.

“Reckon she knows we’re all obsessed with her already?” Jakey leaned closer, whispering like she might understand him.

“She can smell fear,” you replied. “That’s why she likes you.”

“Sound,” he nodded seriously.

Chazza crouched beside Morgan, peering at her face. “She’s changed since ten minutes ago.”

“She has not,” Beano laughed.

“Nah she has look, her cheeks are bigger.”

“That’s milk mate. That’s just milk.”

Morgan rolled his eyes but didn’t move away, letting them orbit closer. Tilly’s fist escaped again, reaching and gripping Morgan’s finger tightly.

“Oi” he cooed, rocking her slightly in his arms - completely instinctively and unintentional. “That’s mine princess”

The boys softened, seeing a whole new side to their angry mate. Completely whipped by a tiny doll.

Eventually the boys made move to go, albeit reluctantly. Quickly snapping more photos just incase, gentle strokes across her chubby cheeks, extra hugs for Morgan and you.

Tilly slept through all the chaos, thankfully as she’d be around it abit too much as she grew.

Morgan was relaxed against the sofa, headset around his neck, controller in hand as Matilda slept soundly on his chest - the soft pink blanket you’d picked out for her cot all those months ago covering her small frame.

The FaceTime dialling tone filled the silence as he waited for Jynxzi to answer.

Faintly he could hear the flowing water and the soft rhythm of your playlist coming down from the shower, your first uninterrupted moment of the day Morgan sent you to pamper yourself.

The connection tone sounded, a shadowy silhouette of his American friend squinting back at him.

“Bro” he grumbled “it’s 7am, this better be important I was streaming till 3”

“Hey, bro you’re the one who answered” he grinned through the screen

“Because you called me” he gritted out, then leaned closer to the screen squinting against the light. “What are you holding?”

“Oh” Morgan gasped. “Forgot to tell you, had baby”

Silence. Full stretching unedited silence.

“You had a WHAT?” Jynxzi moved now sat bolt upright in his bed, face pure unfiltered shock.

“Yeah” he chuckled. “Little miss Matilda”

He gently started rocking her, force of habit more than anything else.

“12 days old now”

“TWELVE -“ his voice cracked. “TWELVE DAYS AGO?!”

Tilly stirred at the sudden volume, nose scrunching up adorably. Immediately both men froze. Jynxzi lowering his voice to an aggressive whisper as to not displease her further.

“Is that her?”

Nodding he adjusted the blanket, aiming the camera to capture her squished cheeks. Tiny copper curls framing her face, hand balled into a fist beneath her chin.

“Oh my god” he whispered. “You just… spawned a human and didn’t tell me?”

“Been busy mate” Morgan laughed.

“Yeah, with a baby” Jynxzi let the silence sit for a beat, “You’re rocking her”

“Am not” Morgan frowned.

“You absolutely are.”

Morgan looked down realised he was and shrugged.

“Works though”

The American leaned closer to the screen like proximity would somehow help.

“She’s tiny, bro”

“Yeah,” Morgan said quietly, voice softening without effort. “She is”

“Let me talk to her.”

“You cannot talk to a twelve-day-old baby.”

“Hey Matilda. I’m the one who’s gonna teach you bad words over the internet” Jynxzi ignored him completely, softening his voice instantly. Morgan laughed under his breath.

Tilly stretched, mouth opening in a dramatic newborn yawn. The reaction on the other side of the screen was catastrophic.

“OH MY GOD SHE YAWNED”

“She does that a lot”

“I would die for her”

“Bit dramatic”

“No, listen” he said seriously. “I just woke up and now your kid exists. This is insane”

Morgan didn’t answer he just looked down at her, thumb brushing across her back.

Jynxzi watched quietly as Tilly settled deeper into Morgan’s chest, completely safe, completely unaware she’d just gained another person who adored her.

“You look different,” he said finally.

Morgan frowned. “Rough?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Happy.”

Morgan huffed a laugh, embarrassed by the accuracy.

He heard the shower power off upstairs, and the soft padding of your feet returning to the bedroom to dress.

“Her mum’s gonna come down in a sec,” he said. “You’ll have to pretend you’re normal.”

“Normal?” Jynxzi exclaimed. “You woke me up - after only 4 hours of sleep to tell me you hid a whole baby from me”

Morgan snorted, shifting slightly so Tilly stayed settled against him.

“Yeah well,” he muttered, “figured you needed more excitement in your life”

“You had a baby, man,” Jynxzi shook his head, still processing. “That’s not a casual update. That’s a life event.”

Tilly made a sleepy little noise, lips puckering as she rooted instinctively against Morgan’s hoodie. Instantly his hand came up, thumb brushing along her cheek.

“Alright princess” he murmured softly. “I got you”

Jynxzi went completely still watching it “You didn’t even realise you did that,” he said quietly.

“Did what?”

“That voice,” he laughed softly. “You got a dad voice now.”

Morgan rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Your voice floated down before you appeared. “Is she still asleep?”

You rounded the corner drying your hair with a towel, stopping immediately when you noticed the phone propped against Morgan’s knee.

“Oh…hi?”

Jynxzi’s face lit up like he’d was in the presence of royalty.

“HI. HI. I JUST FOUND OUT YOU GUYS MADE A HUMAN.”

“He’s taking it well” Morgan groaned.

You laughed, moving closer and leaning over the back of the sofa to peek at the screen.

“Sorry,” you smiled warmly. “We’ve been a bit… distracted.”

“You think?” Jynxzi said. “I wake up and my friend’s a father.”

Your eyes dropped to Morgan and Tilly together, her tucked perfectly into him, tiny hand gripping his shirt. Your expression softened instantly.

“She’s got him wrapped around her finger already,” you said.

“Lies,” Morgan muttered.

Tilly chose that exact moment to stretch dramatically, making a small squeaky sound.

Jynxzi clutched his chest. “I can’t handle this. She’s too small.”

Morgan carefully lifted her hand toward the camera.

“Say hi to Uncle Jynx.”

“UNCLE JYNX,” he repeated immediately, visibly emotional now. “Yeah. I’ll take that.”

The room fell into an easy quiet. Just a sleepy baby, two exhausted parents, and a friend thousands of miles away smiling at a tiny person he already cared about.

“Next time I see you,” Jynxzi said softly, “I’m holding her.”

Morgan nodded without hesitation.

“Yeah,” he replied. “You will.”

Two weeks in you’d found a steady rhythm in parenting. You’d yet to have a trip out that wasn’t to families house for fear of a viewer seeing you so today you were announcing baby Tilly to the world.

You didn’t want it to feel like content. She wasn’t content, she was your world. But the viewers and constant livestreams played a big factor in your decision making.

The two of you spent over an hour picking the perfect collection of photos for instagram. All of Morgan’s being ones of her sleeping against his chest or you gazing down lovingly as she was latched to you mid feed.

Eventually you settled on 6 pictures that you felt encapsulated the past two weeks.

Picture one was Matilda, face just out of shot as she lay in the hospital bassinet, her fist curled around your finger. Welcome to the world printed on the front of her baby grow, with clouds and starts scattered in the background.

Picture two was Morgan holding her for the first time, eyes red rimmed, hair a tangled mess. Pure unfiltered joy on his face as he cradled her close to him.

Picture three showed Tilly latched you your chest, the soft pink blanket she’d become so fond of covering your dignity. Your cheek pressed into her soft curls as you were relaxed against the sofa cushions.

Picture four was a family picture sat in the hospital bed. Matilda wrapped in the retched green hospital blanket, Morgan’s arm wrapped around your shoulders - free hand cupping Tilly’s back. Neither of you faced the camera, both of your heads tilted down to your daughter.

Picture 5 was Tilly in an oatmeal brown woollen jumper that drowned her frame, Matilda written across it in pastel pink cursive. You’d bought it in size 12-18 months, so you could watch her grow into it. At just two weeks she was already filling it out much more than the first time.

The final picture was a candid Morgan took of you, sleeping curled around Tilly in the bed. His own arm could be seen under your neck, thumb stroking your spine. Tilly pouting softly as she slept between the two of you.

The caption was simple. Trying to be nonchalant. Very Morgan.

‘New player spawned in, Meet Tilly’

Morgan didn’t turn the camera on straight away, letting his regular opening show on the stream no music today, Tilly was sleeping soundly in your arms just out of frame when the camera eventually clicked on.

“Hello everybody” using his proper voice, not his performative one. “How we all doing?”

He waited a few seconds for chats to start rolling in, smiling softly at the little noises that escaped Tilly as she slept.

“So this time chat it wasn’t the postman who delivered…” he bowed down in ‘defeat’ “I know I know, slacking”

The sound of both of your laughter filled the room as he read through a few of the messages coming through.

“But you know me, managed to pull some strings and got the…” he pulled a face “postwoman?”

“Nah that don’t sound right that” Your laughter stopped his sentence again, his eyes catching yours as he made a wanking gesture in your direction.

“Anyway, very special guest for today’s stream…” You walked into frame, Tilly tucked under your neck. “reader and baby Matilda!!” He cheered.

You waved towards the camera, saying hello to the viewers. The chat was spammed instantly.

milf !

OMG BABY GINGE

SHES HERE

Family stream !?!

Morgan leaned back in his chair, visibly overwhelmed at the outpour of support and trying not to show it.

“Alright, best behaviour all of yous” he joked, thanking everyone sending gifted in.

Tilly gave a tiny sleepy squeak against your chest, her face scrunching slightly before settling again.

Hearts filled the chat. Morgan saw it and clicked his tongue.

“Don’t encourage them,” he muttered, more to you than anyone else. You gave him a look.

“She didn’t do anything.”

“She knows what she did” he replied conspicuously.

That got you laughing again as you shifted her slightly, still half in frame. Morgan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Right,” he said, switching back into streamer voice for a second. “For anyone confused, no we didn’t just randomly acquire a child - she’s a month old now. Just been enjoying family life without the internet as she got used to existing”

A MONTH ?

the instagram was 2 weeks ago !

WHAT

“Yep, crazy innit?” Morgan laughed, shaking his head.

“Basically he hates you chat” you joked from beside him, softly swaying Tilly.

“That’s not - what? No!” He was laughing as he spoke. “Sorry, never had a baby come out my girlfriend before - needed a slight adjustment period. Please forgive me”

Tilly made a noise of disapproval from your chest, not used to her dad talking so animatedly. Her little mouth puckering and fingers flexing on your collar bone like she was deciding whether it was worth disturbing her slumber.

Morgan shifted instantly, hands moving to take her from you if you needed.

“You got her?” Voice soft as he spoke to you, a sharp contrast to how the viewers had ever heard him talk. You nodded towards him, shifting so she settled more comfortably against you.

Chat clocked the change in Morgan’s posture.

dad mode activated

Bro forgot he was on stream

Did you see that??

“I didn’t ‘forget the stream was on’” he said flatly, blue eyes squinting at the camera. “I’m just not letting my daughter fall or my mrs get tired arms”

That made you laugh again. Tilly chose that exact moment to let out a bigger, slightly offended noise like she didn’t like not being the centre of your attention.

The stream went silent for half a beat. Morgan froze. You froze.

Morgan immediately leaned into her space.

protect her at all costs

timing us out like her dad ❤️

what’s wrong with her !!!

“It’s alright princess” He cooed. “Daddy’s sorry, didn’t forget about you I’m still here” Morgan briefly glanced at the chat, chuckling under his breathe.

princess confirmed

getting timed out by angryginges kid

poor baby !!

“‘Course she’s a princess chat. I don’t know if I mentioned but i won the jungle - I’m the king” he paused, trying to hold in his laughter as you giggled beside him. “Therefore reader is the queen, obviously our kid is a princess”

You shook your head beside him, smiling down at Tilly as she settled again, completely unbothered by the thousands of people currently losing their minds over her existence.

Chat moved too fast to read properly now.

PRINCESS TILLY

generational stream

KING GINGE ERA

Morgan leaned closer to the monitor, pretending to scan messages seriously.

“Right” he said. “Any disrespect toward the royal family results in immediate banishment”

“Banishment?” you laughed.

“Yeah” he nodded firmly. “Straight to the naughty step”

Tilly made a soft snuffling noise, her tiny hand stretching toward his voice. Morgan’s entire face changed he reached out instinctively, letting her fingers curl around his thumb.

Chat exploded again. Neither of you paid it any attention.

“Strong grip that,” he murmured proudly, like she’d just achieved something extraordinary.

“She’s literally grabbing your finger,” you said.

“Exactly” he replied. “Going to be a pro athlete like her dad”

You rolled your eyes, laughing quietly.

A sound bite went off loudly through the speakers, Morgan visibly flinched.

“Oh shit, sorry, sorry” he muttered quickly, reaching to lower the volume. “Didn’t think about alerts”

Tilly twitched at the noise but stayed asleep. Both of you froze again. The entire stream held its breath. Morgan stared at her like he was personally negotiating with fate.

“…we’re good,” he whispered.

“Right,” he said quietly. “We’re turning alerts down today, this is a calm household now”

You shifted closer, resting your elbow on the arm of his chair keeping Tilly supported while you watched chat together.

It felt strangely normal, like this had always been part of your life. Morgan glanced sideways at you and then back to the camera.

“I’ll be honest chat,” he said, tone softer now. “Felt proper odd having a month off and full access to my set up, you’ve kinda been here for everything else”

Messages slowed slightly, the mood changing.

love you Ginge

congrats man

W W W W

He swallowed, clearly not expecting the sincerity.

“Yeah… cheers” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Tilly made another tiny sound, her face scrunching before relaxing again. Morgan looked down instantly. Every time. You noticed it. Chat noticed it.

He didn’t.

“Mad though,” he added quietly. “Used to worry about stream numbers and how many views Bov had - Now I just worry if she’s breathing too quietly.”

A collective awww rolled through chat.

You nudged his shoulder gently.

“They didn’t tune in for emotional vulnerability.”

“Tough” he shrugged. “I’m dad Ginge now”

He reached over stroking her soft curls with his thumb with ridiculous care, still seeing her as the fragile 7lb 3oz infant placed on your chest, not the almost 5 week old milk hungry tank she’d become.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, trying to recover some normality. “We are still gaming today. She’s supervising.”

Right on cue, Tilly let out a tiny squeaky noise. “See? Approved” Morgan grinned.

“So what we thinking chat - clubs? GTA? Fortnite? I’m up for anything” A beat of silence. “Right, you lot vote in that poll and we’ll see what we’re doing”

As he waited for the poll results his attention drifted back down to Tilly, finger tracing her scrunched up nose instinctively.

“Ryan you’re not getting me to down a buzzball again, Tilly’s going to be up soon I can’t be tipsy around her” you laughed out at him, pushing away the buzzball he was trying to get into your hands.

“Aw come on reader, it’s women’s week! I’ve got pads, tampons, buzzballs and choccies for all the girlfriends - don’t let women down”

You sighed, grabbed the drink he was offering you before downing it. Managing not to spill any down your jumper.

“Right uncle Beano, since you want to get her mummy lit you can come do play time with us” you informed him, tugging him along the hallway to ‘Morgan’s’ bedroom.

Matilda however, was not in the bed. Sheets rumpled, her Winnie the Pooh teddy gone along with her baby blanket.

“What the fuck? I didn’t hear her get up, did you Beano?” You asked, turning to face him and his camera man.

“The house is suspiciously quiet anorl - Tays and Chaz are at Tesco. Do ya know where Ginge and Jakey are?”

You bit your lip in thought as the familiar tune of Bluey flowed up through the house. Making eye contact with Ryan you both let out a relieved laugh before heading in the direction of the living room.

What the pair of you saw from the door way had you stopped in your tracks.

Morgan was sat on the plush rug, elbows on his crossed knees head in his hands fully transfixed on the heeler families antics. As always Matilda was sat in the exact same position - carbon copy of her father. Her comfort blanket around her as a cape, thumb stuck in her mouth, Pooh bear watching from her lap.

“This the same bloke that screamed on stream about wanting some chips? He’s so gone chat. This is ridiculous” Ryan whispered to the camera. Eyes wide in disbelief at his normally boisterous mate humming along to animated Australian puppies in agreement.

You nodded in reply to Ryan’s question, not that it even required a response, still focused on your little family. Your heart felt too big in your ribcage.

“You see how sad Bingo is Tilly? That’s why it’s so important to ask before we take other people’s things! We don’t want to make our friends sad like dad made bingo sad do we?” Your boyfriend asked your daughter, picking her up and tucking her into his arms.

Tilly nodded up at her dad - taking the conversation far too serious for what it was.

“No dance mode for bingo?” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked up at Morgan. Hands clutching her Pooh bear.

“Let’s keep watching and see eh babe? I’m sure bingo will get her turn Tils” One of his hands found her belly gently tickling her to distract her from the oncoming heartbreak when Bingos final dance mood is denied from her.

Jakey had made his way down to where you, Ryan and Cal were gathered observing the two gingers in the lounge.

“What’s going on here then? The living room out of bounds?” He asked you before taking in the scene on the rug before letting out an unnecessarily loud laugh. “Is he singing the theme song?”

Turning around to face the group Morgan’s face fell at the smug smiles, or fond in your case, looking back at him.

“Erm sorry why am I being stalked?… Are you streaming me bond with my daughter?”

“Just ain’t realised how invested you were in the family dynamics of animated dogs ginge mate” Ryan laughed as you all finally made your way into the room.

“… how long exactly have you been watching us?”

“Long enough - never beating the allegations now mate” Ryan was doubled over in laughter on the sofa.

You’d sat down on the rug with your little family - Jakey also opting for the floor as cal stood of to the side getting you all in the frame for Beano’s stream.

“Daddy! Uckl bean shhh!!!” Tilly exclaimed before Morgan had the chance to reply to him hisself. “Grannies on bus!!” She was pointing at the tv now, bringing everyone’s attention to the show.

Morgan caved instantly, pecking Tilly’s head, one arm keeping her snug to his chest the other finding your thigh.

When Charlie and Mikey returned home 15 minutes later none of you had moved - all now fully invested in the show.

The pair of them absolutely baffled when the 5 adults in the room shouted out ‘mum’ in perfect timing with the telly - before naturally finding their own spot amidst the chaos and watching along.

Morgan laughed under his breath, shaking his head as Tilly clapped proudly at all of you. His hand found yours without looking, fingers lacing together like second nature.

He chuckles, moving into the room and dropping down to sit right behind you. He sets the toy aside and pulls you back against his chest, his arms looping firmly around your waist. He leans his chin on your shoulder, squinting at the small camera screen.

"We’re just being honest, Trouble" he says, his voice dropping to that lower, softer tone he only uses with you. He presses a kiss to your temple, then looks at the lens.

"Survived a year of parenthood and now we’re trying to add another one to the chaos. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Exactly.” You lean back into him, feeling the familiar comfort of his heartbeat against your spine. “And if it goes wrong, I’m blaming you."

"Yeah, yeah," he says, squeezing your waist. "Whatever you say, Princess."

You let your head fall back looking up at him through your long lashes, his soft blue eyes meeting yours for a moment before flashing back to the camera.

“Anyways hopefully next time you see us she’s successfully pissed on a stick!” Morgan claps, ending the segment.

Tilly was perched on your hip as you waited for your 3 minute timer to go. Minutes stretching on for hours.

“I know it’s probably negative, it’s only month one of trying” Your voice soft as you bounced the one year old gently on your hip.

Flipping over the test you tried to hide the disappointment from your face. One glaringly obvious, clearly negative, singular pink line staring back at you.

“That’s okay” you cooed, still bouncing the babbling Tilly. “Just round one, we got plenty of time haven’t we Tilly girl?”

In the next clip you were standing in the same spot, Morgan had his strong arms around you, leaving kisses in your hairline as the result sunk in.

“It’s okay princess, not like trying to get one in there is a terrible chore” he teased squeezing your hips.

You let out a sigh as you twisted in his arms, your own coming up and encircling his neck.

“It’s been three months squish!” You pouted up to him.

“You had no symptoms this month though have you, trouble?” His hands tighten on your waist as he consoles you. “Just not the right time yet, try not to stress too much.”

“I think it means you need to get your mum to babysit and take me on another date night.” You tease to break the slight tension that’s built.

“Oh yeah? Sure it does, dickhead.” He laughed as the clip cut.

A series of similar clips showed, some with Morgan, some with Tilly and some of you by yourself. Always in the same spot, camera balanced on the sink with the plastic test upside down just in shot as you counted down with the viewers.

Unfortunately, every test had the same increasingly devastating negative result once the timer was up.

And in each clip it was getting harder to mask the disappointment and heartbreak from flashing in your features as you flipped the plastic stick over.

“So everyone keeps telling me I need to be relaxed and stop trying” you opened up the vlog from the passenger seat of Morgan’s car.

“So daddy back there,” the camera briefly panned to Morgan who could be seen, and heard, strapping Matilda into her car seat. “Is on a mission to help me relax, and he’s looked up healthy recipes that are meant to promote fertility… however the idea of a boneless banquet is really appealing right now.”

“Hey,” Morgan calls from behind you, “If momma wants kfc we can get kfc, forget the vegetables for a day. It’s self care, innit?”

“Tilly will be two soon and she’s not got a baby sibling yet.” you mutter.

“We see the doctor next week, don’t get too in your head about it reader” He spoke softly as he got behind the wheel, one of his hands reaching out to cup your face. “I don’t think little lady is too bothered stealing all our attention for herself at the minute anyway.”

Almost to prove his point Matilda started shouting for attention from the back seat.

The camera was wobbling as you cried in Matilda’s dark nursery, only the soft glow of her nightlight illuminating the room.

“I feel like such a fraud” you sobbed, “I already have the most perfect baby right there! But every time it’s just one line there I feel a grief for something that never existed.”

Tilly was asleep in her cot, now taking up much more space at 22 months old. She had her arm and leg outstretched to her side as she lay on her tummy, the same way Morgan slept wrapped around you every night.

“The doctor said I’ve got unexplained infertility, medically I should be able to give Tilly a sibling… my body just won’t” you harshly rubbed at your face to get rid of the tear tracks. “I don’t know why I’m so upset because at least I get to be her mummy, and being her mum really is my favourite thing ever.”

You were looking solemnly at your sleeping daughter as you cried, taking in her soft features while she slept.

“It was so easy with her, we didn’t even have to try! I was on the pill and we still somehow got her” you whispered towards the camera. “I started this vlog ten months ago… which realistically isn’t even that long ago but, part of me expected to be about to give birth or already have a newborn by now... Maybe I was dumb for thinking that it’d happen so quickly?”

Nervous laughter followed your sentence as your fingers anxiously twisted through the ends of your hair.

“Anyway I should probably go to bed before Morgan wakes up and comes looking for me, if he sees me crying over our sleeping daughter again he might think I’m crazy”

The frame shook as you stood up, using the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe the remaining tears away as you smiled gently into the lens.

“To clarify I don’t cry over her a lot, but mums will know those first few weeks of having a newborn and post partum emotions sometimes you do be crying during the night feeds because you can’t believe you actually created a cuter perfect mini version of your feral ginger boyfriend”

The next clip opened mid conversation.

“–don’t think I can piss on another stick this month actually,” you muttered, phone balanced against the bathroom mirror instead of the usual spot on the sink.

Morgan’s laugh came from somewhere behind the camera.

“Bit difficult to know if you’re pregnant then, innit?”

You rolled your eyes weakly, though the joke barely landed this time. Tilly, now fully in her I’m two and I’m the boss now era, banged tiny hands against the bathroom door from the hallway.

“Mummyyyy!”

“One second baby!” You pinched the bridge of your nose before looking back toward the lens.

“I just…” your shoulders lifted helplessly. “I already know what it’s gonna say before I even check.”

Morgan appeared in the reflection behind you then, quieter than usual as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“You don’t know for sure, babe.”

You didn’t answer. The clip cut before the timer finished.

Another clip, another month. The camera wasn’t even steady this time, just loosely held in your hand as you sat in bed, the room bathed in the soft, blue light of your phone screen.

“We didn’t film the test,” you said quietly. Behind you, Morgan was dead to the world, face down across the mattress with one arm hanging limply off the edge of the bed.

“I dunno. It just felt a bit…” You shrugged, your gaze dropping to your lap. “Sad.” You took a breath, forcing a lighter, brighter tone as you looked back into the lens.

“But! On the bright side, apparently stress is the enemy, so Morgan’s officially banned me from watching my missing children documentaries.”

Half-asleep, Morgan’s muffled, gravelly voice drifted across the room, barely audible.

“You were scaring yourself, Trouble.”

“You snore like a lawnmower, you knobhead.” You rolled your eyes, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips.

“You still shag me though,” he mumbled into the pillow, not even bothering to lift his head.

That finally pulled a real, unforced laugh from you, the tension in your shoulders dropping for the first time all day.

The camera sat on the coffee table, capturing the scene from a low, slightly awkward angle — the way it always did lately.

Tilly was in the middle of a serious, high-stakes operation. She’d wrapped one of Morgan’s hoodies around her doll and she was currently pacing the rug, shushing the air with the frantic intensity only a two-year-old is capable of.

“Daddy get me a real baby” Tilly chirped, coming to a stop in front of Morgan. “I share my Pooh-bear!”

You didn't look at the camera; you were too busy trying to keep your expression neutral. You glanced over at Morgan. He was sat on the rug in front of her, halfway through building a tower of blocks, but his hands had gone still.

"A real one, eh?" Morgan said, his voice soft as he spoke to your daughter. He didn't look at you, just kept his eyes on Tilly, though his grip on a wooden block was a little too tight.

Tilly nodded enthusiastically, nearly tripping over the oversized hoodie pooled around her ankles.

“Yeah! Tiny baby.” She held her hands up dramatically to demonstrate. “Thisssss big.”

Morgan let out a quiet hum, the kind he did lately whenever he was trying very hard to sound normal.

“And what if the baby cries all night, hmm?” he asked, reaching out to steady her before she face planted into the blocks. “What then?”

“I sing!” she announced confidently.

“Oh yeah?” His mouth twitched faintly. “Reckon that’ll work?”

Tilly nodded with the unwavering confidence only toddlers possessed before toddling over to you instead, shoving the doll into your lap.

“You practice mummy.”

Your breath caught so subtly the camera probably didn’t even pick it up. Morgan looked up then, just for a second. Neither of you said anything but, there was something exhausted in his expression now. Something carefully controlled.

You forced a smile for Tilly’s sake, adjusting Morgan’s hoodie around the doll automatically.

“Thank you baby.”

“She cold,” Tilly explained seriously. “Need mummy’s magic cuddles.”

“Yeah?” you whispered, eyes burning suddenly as you cradled the doll against your chest.

The room went quiet except for the soft sound of Cocomelon playing faintly from the TV.

Morgan cleared his throat after a moment, dropping the block back onto the rug with a dull clack.

“C’mere monkey,” he said gently, opening his arms toward Tilly. “Daddy needs help building this tower before mummy starts crying at cartoons again.”

“I don’t cry at cartoons” you muttered defensively, swiping quickly beneath one eye. Morgan’s eyes flickered toward you briefly.

“You cried at that bluey episode for forty five minutes.”

“Because auntie Brandy’s infertile, Morgan!”

“Mummy say bad word.” Tilly gasped dramatically, pointing at you.

Morgan barked out a startled laugh while you buried your face in the doll for a second, mortified

“Not that kind of bad word, baby,” he managed between laughs, reaching to scoop Tilly into his lap.

The camera kept recording for another few seconds.

Morgan pressing absent kisses into Tilly’s hair while she squirmed in his arms. You sat curled against the sofa clutching the doll a little too tightly.

And despite the laughter that had softened the moment, Morgan still looked at you the same way he always did lately, like he was trying to figure out how to carry heartbreak for the both of you.

The camera is propped on the dresser, filming you as you haphazardly stack boxes of toddler shoes. You pause, leaning against the dresser, looking directly into the lens.

"Were doing the bed transition, right? And Morgan is doing the 'supportive dad' thing, trying to make it a big, happy event. But I hate it! I really thought there’d be a baby ready to move into her cot when she was ready to move out of it."

You sighed as you busied yourself with reorganising the bookcase, replacing the books with far more force than required. The hardbacks thudding against the wood filling the short silence.

“And people keep saying to us when they see the three us together it’s a ‘perfect time’ to give her a sibling, total strangers too by the way. As if I don’t know. As if I haven’t been wanting to give her a sibling since she was like 6 months old!”

You stop, one book held mid-air, and let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.

“It’s like they think we’re just... not doing it? Or that we’re waiting for the 'right vibe'? I swear, if one more person tells me to 'not think about it and just have a drunk night together,' I might actually lose the plot.”

You shove the book into the shelf, the movement sharp and jagged. You look back at the camera, your voice dropping to that hushed, secretive tone.

“I used to love the spontaneity of it, you know? With Morgan? Like we all have eyes he’s so attractive, he’s my best friend – it used to be the best part of our day. But now? I’m all ‘Will this position help with conception?’ or ‘Quick! she’s napping, we’ve got at least 10 minutes, I’m ovulating.’ It’s not even fun anymore. It’s like a shift.”

You lean back against the shelf, looking defeated.

“It’s good because it’s with him, obviously. But I dread it. I can see the dread in his face, too, which somehow makes it worse. It’s like we’re both just performing. I look at him and I know he’s only doing it because he knows how much I want this, and he’s trying to be the ‘good husband.’ And I’m only doing it because an app told me it’s the ‘optimal day.’”

You rub a hand over your eyes, your voice thick.

“I miss being a wife who just… wanted her husband. I’m so tired of being a patient who needs a result. Does that make me a bad mum? For wanting more when I’ve already got the most perfect little thing in the other room? I feel like I’m constantly mourning a life I don't even have, while trying to ignore the guilt of not being happy enough with the life I do have.”

You walk toward the camera, your movements slower now, the initial rush of anger replaced by that hollow, creeping exhaustion. You lean in, your face filling the frame, eyes reddened and tired.

“The worst part is that I know he’s hurting too. But he’s so busy trying to keep the fun version of himself alive for me that he’s forgotten how to just be sad.”

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze dropping to the floor. The silence in the room is absolute now, no toddler giggles, no Morgan, just the hum of the camera.

“Anyway. That’s enough. I’m making this a pity party, aren’t I?” You sniff, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand and forcing a bright, brittle tone that doesn't reach your eyes. “Tilly needs her snack and I’ve got a big girl room to finish tidying. Life goes on, right?”

The camera flickers on shakily, still blurry before focusing on the bathroom sink. You’re standing there in one of Morgan’s oversized hoodies, nervously twisting your hair. Morgan is beside you, half-asleep, his ginger hair sticking up in every direction, squinting through heavy eyes.

“I’m five days late,” you breathe into the quiet room. “I didn’t want to say anything… I thought if I said it out loud, my period would start out of spite.”

“Bit rude of your uterus, that,” he murmurs. It’s almost a laugh, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

You offer a weak smile, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Morgan rubs a hand down his face, his expression sharpening as the reality settles in.

“Have you looked yet?”

You shake your head. “I’m scared to.”

The words land heavy. After eighteen months, the fear isn't just about disappointment anymore; it’s about that familiar, hollow humiliation of the negative result.

“We’ll do it together,” Morgan says. He starts pacing — just short, jagged laps across the tiny floor before stopping right beside you.

“You’re stressing me out,” you mutter, your gaze fixed on the white plastic test sitting on the edge of the sink.

“You think I’m not stressed?”

“You never get stressed anymore.” The words slip out before you can stop them. Morgan goes quiet. It’s true – over the last year and a half, he’d stopped letting himself believe enough to feel the nerves. He’d built a wall of stoicism to protect you both.

He lets out a slow, steadying breath and reaches for the test, handling it carefully, as if it might shatter under his touch.

You don’t look at the stick. You watch his face. You see the confusion hit, then the disbelief, and finally, something dangerously close to hope.

“Morgan?” your voice is a whisper.

“There’s… there’s something there.” He turns the test toward you, his hand trembling slightly.

The line is faint, fainter than a heartbeat, but it is there. A distinct, stubborn slash of color against the white.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Morgan lets out a startled, breathless laugh.

“Told you your uterus was just being dramatic.”

“Oh my god,” you choke out, tears flooding your vision. Morgan is staring at the test as if it’s the most offensive, beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“That’s a line,” he says, his voice thick with wonder. “That’s actually a line.”

You start to sob, laughing through the mess of it as Morgan grabs your face with both hands, his thumbs catching your tears.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry yet, we don’t—”

“I can’t help it!”

“You’re gonna make me cry, and I’m meant to be the emotionally stable one.”

“You’ve never been emotionally stable,” you sniff, a watery laugh escaping you.

“That is slander.” He kisses you then. Hard, desperate and smiling against your mouth.

Downstairs, the sound of tiny footsteps thuds against the floor, followed by Tilly’s muffled yell for breakfast. Reality rushes back in.

The next clip opens in absolute darkness. The only sound is your jagged, hitching breathing as you struggle to balance the camera on your knees.

Morgan is sat beside you, anchoring you to his side, his lips pressed softly against your hairline.

Above you, caught in the faint glow of the camera’s light, sits the graveyard of your efforts: a pack of tampons, a bottle of fertility vitamins and a box of unused ovulation tests.

“So… she got her period during the night,” Morgan explains softly.

You’re crying into his shoulder, your body shaking with a heartbreak so deep it feels exhausting.

Morgan’s hand rests firmly on your back, rubbing slow, steady circles. He doesn’t tell you it’ll be okay. He doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He just holds you in the dark, and for the first time, he doesn't look like he’s trying to keep the ‘fun’ version of himself alive.

The camera is propped up on the edge of the bathroom sink – not for a test this time, just because habit makes you reach for it whenever things feel too heavy to hold alone.

You’re sat on the edge of the bath in one of Morgan’s hoodies, fingers twisting at the ends of your hair. The bathroom light is dim, casting tired shadows beneath your eyes.

“So,” you say eventually, voice quieter than usual. “We had a talk.” You swallow hard. “And I think… we’re done trying.”

The words don’t sound real out loud, like they belong to somebody else. From somewhere downstairs, Tilly’s laugh echoes faintly through the house followed by the sound of the Bluey theme tune. It makes your expression crumple for half a second before you pull it back together.

“We’re not buying ovulation tests anymore,” you continue softly. “Or pregnancy tests. I deleted the tracking apps.” A weak laugh leaves you. “Which honestly felt a bit like deleting a tiny little dictator who’d been ruining my life for a 20 months.” You rub tiredly at your face.

“I just can’t keep doing the cycle of convincing myself every month is different and then feeling stupid when it isn’t.” The camera shakes slightly as you adjust it.

“And I miss my husband.” The confession comes out barely above a whisper. “Not physically, I mean he’s literally downstairs making dinosaur nuggets with our toddler—”

A faint THEY’RE FUCKIN BURNT! echoes from downstairs. Despite yourself, your mouth twitches.

“But I miss us. I miss kissing him without thinking about ovulation windows. I miss him touching me without both of us silently wondering if maybe this’ll finally be the time it works.” Your eyes start filling before you can stop them. “I miss when we were just stupidly obsessed with each other.”

The bathroom door creaks open then and Morgan appears, ketchup bottle in hand and a tea towel flung over his shoulder.

“Language,” he shouts automatically down the stairs before looking at you properly. His face changes instantly, the sauce bottle gets abandoned on the sink. “Oh, Trouble.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You shake your head quickly, embarrassed by the tears now falling, but your voice cracks on the last word.

Morgan crouches in front of you immediately, hands settling on your knees.

“You don’t have to do that with me.”

And that’s what finally breaks you because he sounds tired too. Not frustrated, not angry, just tired in that deep, aching way people get when they’ve carried hope for too long.

“I think I need us back,” you whisper.

Morgan’s face folds a little at that. His thumbs brush under your eyes gently.

“You never lost us.”

“Feels like I did.” You let out a small sob-laugh. He leans forward then, resting his forehead against yours.

“We made her,” he says quietly. “Got our tiny little psychopath downstairs singing the Bluey theme tune at chicken nuggets. Think we did alright, Princess.”

That gets a real laugh out of you through the tears.

Downstairs, Tilly suddenly screeches “MUMMY I NEED KETCHUP!” Morgan closes his eyes briefly.

“See?” he mutters. “Dream life.”

You laugh again, shakier this time, and he kisses your forehead softly. The camera keeps rolling a little longer.

Just long enough to catch the way Morgan stays kneeling between your legs even after the conversation ends, holding your hands like he’s terrified that if he lets go, you’ll disappear into the grief again.

The camera is propped against a stack of laundry on the table, slightly crooked. The living room is a landscape of chaos— toys, mismatched socks and half eaten snacks.

Tilly is sprawled across the rug, surrounded by a mountain of stationery she definitely doesn't need yet. She holds up a glittery pencil case like she’s presenting a legal document.

“Mummy,” she says with grave seriousness. “This for important business.”

“What business?” you ask, your voice coming from behind the camera, warm and unhurried.

“My important business.” Tilly shrugs, unbothered.

Morgan snorts from the dining table. He’s hunched over, painstakingly ironing name labels into tiny school cardigans.

“She’s definitely your child.”

“She screams when the people on tv don’t do what she wants, Morgan.” You deadpan. “She’s yours.”

“That’s necessary, that is.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

The camera catches Morgan grinning. A real, full-blown grin, the kind that’s been rare through the video. You’re sat beside him, folding tiny socks into pairs. You aren’t rushing, you aren't checking a clock or a phone app, you’re just there.

“Tills,” Morgan calls out after a minute, holding a polo shirt up like evidence in a courtroom. “You’re too little for this. Stop growing.”

“I’m big girl now!” she shouts, jumping up to prove it and immediately tripping over the oversized backpack she insisted on wearing.

You burst into laughter. Morgan doesn't even flinch he just reaches out, grabbing her by the hood of her jumper and hauling her upright in one practiced motion.

“Tiny drunk person.”

“Mummy! Daddy being rood!” Tilly gasps, dramatically.

“You literally fell over air, baby” you say, wiping a tear from your eye.

“She gets that from you as well,” Morgan mutters, you kick his shin under the table. “Ow! Domestic violence in front of the child.”

“Yeah, Mummy! Vile-ence!” Tilly claps her hands.

You laugh until your sides ache, the camera shaking slightly as you lean back against your chair. The room feels full. Not because there’s another heartbeat in the house and not because the ache of the last two years has vanished but because you’ve stopped living in a waiting room.

Morgan glances over at you. His eyes linger, watching you laugh, his expression softening.

“You alright?” he asks. The question is simple, stripped of the loaded fear it used to carry. You look around the room. The half-ironed clothes, the glitter pens scattered like confetti and the man who, despite everything, is still your best friend.

“Yeah,” you say softly, and you mean it. “I really am.”

The camera continues to roll, capturing the way Morgan’s gaze doesn’t leave your face. His expression shifts; that guarded, supportive wall he’s been keeping up for months finally drops, replaced by a slow, knowing smirk.

“You look nice,” he says, his voice dropping just a notch. “Like, actually nice. Not just mummy nice.”

You lean back, arching a brow at him, catching that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes that you haven't seen in ages.

“And you,” you tease, resting your chin on your palm, “look like you’re trying to start something.”

Morgan smirks as he kicks his chair back, the legs scraping against the floorboards, and he leans into your space not quite kissing you, but close enough that the air between you feels charged.

“Maybe I am,” he murmurs. “I think I’ve been a very patient man lately. Don't you?”

You laugh, a light, airy sound, and give his arm a playful shove.

“Oh, have you? Is that what we’re calling it? You’ve been a nightmare, more like.”

He laughs, the sound genuine and unburdened. He reaches out, his hand sliding across the table to cover yours, his thumb tracing the back of your knuckles.

“A nightmare, huh? Just wait until I’m off the clock, then you’ll see.”

Tilly lets out a loud, frustrated grunt from the rug as she struggles with her pencil case zipper.

“Mummy! Help!”

You tear your gaze away from him to look at Tilly, but you don’t pull your hand out from under his. You’re still grinning, that flirty, knowing look still plastered on your face.

“In a second, Tills.” you call out, your voice bright, though your eyes go right back to Morgan.

He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur that’s meant just for you, even if the camera is recording.

“Don’t worry about the uniform labels,” he whispers, his eyes shimmering with cheeky intensity as he looks you up and down. “I think we’ve got more important business to focus on for today.”

You feel your cheeks flush and you let out a shaky, breathless laugh. You give his hand a squeeze, leaning into him just enough to feel the solid warmth of his shoulder against yours.

“You’re ridiculous,” you breathe, though you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing in the room.

Morgan just grins, that smug, familiar spark back in his eyes. He taps your hand twice before finally standing up to go help Tilly, but he leaves a lingering touch on your shoulder as he passes, his fingers brushing the back of your neck in a way that feels like a promise.

“Go on then,” he says, glancing back at you over his shoulder with a wink. “Go be a mum. I’ll be back for you in five.”

You watch him walk away, laughing to yourself, the knot in your chest completely gone. You reach for the camera, not with the frantic energy of someone trying to hide something, but with the relaxed, happy smile of a woman who finally has her life back.

You give the camera a final, playful smirk, and with a soft click, the screen goes black.

The camera is propped on the bathroom counter. You’re in a black bodycon dress, hair curled, mid-laugh while fixing your lipstick. You’re holding glass of rosé looking relaxed and loose.

“Right,” you say to the lens, giggling. “I’m literally about to head out to meet the girls, but I promised myself I’d bin this last pregnancy test first. I’m having a massive cupboard clear-out. Between nursery germs, new allergies and me catching every single bug Tilly brings home, I’ve honestly never gone to the doctors so much in my LIFE. I’m reclaiming my space.”

You tear the packaging open with your teeth, still laughing as you prepare the test.

“I know it’s negative. I’m not even going to look at it, i’m just going to do the thing, toss it and not be a mum for the night.“ Your tone is still cheerful as you talk to the viewers. “Suppose it’s a good ending though isn’t it? The final test, we’re happy with where we are so I can end the video now.”

You lean over, do your thing and casually set it on the edge of the sink. You turn back to the camera, picking up your drink, totally unfazed.

“So, yeah. Tonight is purely for cocktails and complaining about the nursery mums and I am so ready for it. I’ll update you when I’m — wait.”

You pause, mid-sip as your eyes caught the test. You freeze, leaning in, squinting as your brow furrowed in complete confusion.

“No… that’s not right.”

You reach out and pick up the stick, holding it up to the bathroom light. You tilt your head, turning the stick from side to side.

“That’s… that’s a line,” you whisper, your voice deadpan. “That’s definitely a line.”

You look at the test, then at the camera, then back at the test. You let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“Well. That’s inconvenient.” You walk to the bathroom door, still holding the test, wine glass in the other hand.

“Morgan?” you call out, your voice perfectly steady. “You need to come here for a second. I think I’ve just ruined my night out.”

“What you mean? You’ve planned it for weeks, I’ve told you me and monkey will be–“ Morgan wanders into the frame, stopping mid-sentence when he sees you holding the test. “What’s that? You said you were binning it, princess.”

You just hold it out to him, still holding your glass.

“I know. I was. But apparently I’m not broken.”

Morgan looks at the stick, then at you. His eyes go wide, then he starts to chuckle, shaking his head. He doesn't even go for in for a hug, he just takes the test, looking at it with a mix of shock and amusement.

“You’re having a laugh, aren’t you?”

“I wish I was,” you say, finally setting the drink down on the counter. “I was really looking forward to shots and bad decisions.”

You both just stand there, staring at the little piece of plastic and then you start to giggle again.

“Well,” Morgan says, a slow, dazed smile spreading across his face. “I suppose you’re not going to the pub then.”

You look at him, the humor of the situation finally sinking in. You burst out laughing, a genuine, confused, happy sound.

Morgan steps closer, his gaze drifting from the stick to your face, his usual smirk replaced by a look of dazed, utter disbelief. He gently takes the glass of rosé from your hand and sets it down next to the test, as if it’s suddenly a dangerous object.

“Think we’re done with this for now too.” He reaches out, tucking a loose curl behind your ear, his touch lingering on your cheek. “You’re actually serious? It’s not one of those… dented lines or whatever you used to call them?”

“It’s a line, squish,” you say, your voice vibrating with that same disbelieving laughter. “A very dark, very night out ruining line. I barely put it down before it showed up”

He lets out a short, incredulous huff of air and pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around your waist. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, he just holds you there, looking over your shoulder at the sink like he expects the test to have vanished by the time he looks back.

“We literally just decided to stop,” he mutters into your hair, sounding both winded and amused. “We were one and done. And now – and now you’re telling me there’s a tiny little squatter on the way?”

You laugh, a wet, shaky sound as the reality starts to bleed through the shock. You lean your head against his chest, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs, just as fast as yours.

“I know. I was literally about to put on my heels, have a tequila and forget that I have responsibilities.” You look up at him, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

Morgan’s expression softens, that familiar, cheeky light returning to his eyes. He leans down, pressing a lingering, soft kiss to your forehead.

“So,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, amused rasp. “You’re telling me that after two years of temperature tracking, calendar alerts and enough ovulation tests to build a small house… I get you pregnant the second you plan a night out that involves shots?”

“It’s the timing, isn't it?” You burst out laughing, the sound slightly hysterical. “It’s genuinely insulting, Tilly has been extra testing this week I needed a girls night.”

He shakes his head, a wide, disbelieving grin spreading across his face. He doesn’t reach for a dramatic embrace instead, he just leans his hip against the vanity, looking at you with that familiar, cheeky glint.

“You know what this means, don’t you? You’re going to have to go to the pub with the girls, order a coke, and pretend you’re having the time of your life while they get absolutely hammered.”

“Don’t.” You groan, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. “I’ll have to listen to Heather talk about her sex life while I’m sat there sober and fully aware she’s talking about MIKEY. It’s a tragic existence, Morgan. Truly tragic.”

He chuckles, his hand finding the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The intimacy of it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“You could always just text them,” he suggests, his thumb brushing slow, lazy circles against your dress. “Tell them you’ve been struck down by a mysterious, tiny, very inconvenient virus.”

You look up at him, your eyes crinkling. The sheer, absurd irony of it all is finally sinking in.

“You mean tell them I’m ‘pregnant and suffering from a sudden intolerance to fun’?”

“Exactly that, yeah.” Morgan snorts quietly, leaning down until his forehead knocks gently against yours. “Terminal condition. Symptoms include cancelling girls nights and becoming violently sober.”

You laugh again, soft and helpless now, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his t-shirt as the reality starts settling properly between you.

The house is quiet around you. Tilly had gone to bed an hour ago after demanding three stories, one yoghurt and exactly seven kisses. Her little nightlight glows faintly beneath the crack of her bedroom door down the hall.

“Oh my god,” you whisper again, but this time it sounds less shocked and more terrified to believe it.

Morgan’s eyes flick between you and the test like he still thinks one of them might disappear if he looks away too long.

“We literally gave up,” he says quietly, almost laughing again. “Like properly gave up.”

“I know.”

“You deleted the apps.”

“I know.”

“You bought wine.”

“I KNOW.”

That finally breaks him. A real laugh escapes him, startled and disbelieving and so painfully happy it makes your throat ache.

Then suddenly he’s covering his face with one hand, shoulders shaking once as he looks down at the stick again.

“You’re pregnant,” he says, muffled behind his palm.

Your eyes instantly burn the way he says it gets you, like after two years he never actually thought he’d get to say it again.

You step closer without thinking and Morgan immediately reaches for you, both hands settling on your waist like muscle memory.

For a second neither of you speaks he just stares at you, at your face, your dress, your curled hair, the glass of rosé abandoned beside the sink.

At the woman he’d spent nearly two years trying to convince he loved regardless of what her body could or couldn’t do.

“You know what’s mental?” he says softly.

“What?”

“You’re standing there looking all pretty ready for a girls night and I genuinely think this is the sexiest you’ve ever been.”

“Morgan.” You let out a watery laugh.

“I’m serious.” His thumbs brush slowly against your waist. “You’ve looked heartbroken for so long and now you just…” He shakes his head slightly, eyes glassy. “You look like you again.”

“WAIT!” You look up at him, smile infectious. “We have to tell Tilly… would we be the worst parents ever if we woke her up?”

Morgan blinks at you for a second, still looking shell-shocked. “…Probably,” he says honestly. You burst out laughing again, grabbing at his arms.

“I’m serious! She asked for a baby for like six months straight, she’s gonna lose her mind.”

“She’s also three and it’s half eight at night,” he points out, though he’s already smiling now. “She’ll wake up, ask for ‘a mummy snack’ and then tell us it’s morning time cause she’s already been to sleep.”

“That’s still a valid reaction.”

Morgan shakes his head at you, smiling so hard now it looks almost painful. Like his face has forgotten how to hold this much happiness all at once.

“You’re actually buzzing to wake a sleeping toddler” he mutters in disbelief.

“I really thought my body hated me.” Your eyes well up again as you let out a shaky breath.

“Don’t say that.”

“But I did.” Your voice cracks slightly. “For ages, I did.”

Without hesitation, he pulls you into him again, one arm firm around your waist while the other cups the back of your head.

“Your body gave me Tilly,” he murmurs against your hair. “And now apparently it’s gone and done it again just to humble us.”

“You’re such a knobhead.” A broken laugh escapes you against his chest.

“Yeah, but I’m your knobhead.”

You stay there for a second longer, wrapped around each other in the tiny bathroom before Morgan pulls back just enough to look at you properly again, blue eyes brighter than they’ve been in months.

“Go on then,” he says, a grin creeping back onto his face. “Let’s go wake the tiny dictator.”

Your gasp is immediate. “You said no!”

“I changed my mind.” He shrugs. “This is arguably bigger than bedtime.”

You beam at him so brightly it almost knocks the breath out of him.

“It’s actually quite upsetting you know” you mumbled towards the camera, hair still wrapped in a towel atop your head but outfit definitely leaving the house appropriate.

“What’s that love?” Morgan called across the room.

“The fact that she’s proper eating now, I mean breastfeeding sucked at times but now she’s only really feeding on a night time or on a morning before breakfast. Is it weird to say I miss it?”

“You can miss it, think that’s a normal thing mums feel” Morgan comforted, making his way to you and wrapping his arms around your chest “I can’t wait for it to be over”

Quickly your head snapped to his direction, confusion shining on your face. He squeezed your boobs in response.

“Can’t wait to have my favourite things back to myself, every time I try play with them ‘Morgan stop it you’re making me leak’ absolute fucking joke”

“Morgan!” You swatted his arm as he cackled before the camera cut again.

The camera picked up again in the car, Tilly strapped into her seat behind you happily babbling at absolutely nothing.

“We’re going to Tesco” you explained “Which somehow takes a million years every time”

“Because you treat it like a social event” Morgan snorted from the driver’s seat.

“The one day I go looking like a scruffy bitch is the day followers find us”

“Maybe don’t document our entire life on insta stories then babe”

“The people understand me”

“They enable you” he corrected. From the backseat came an enthusiastic squeal.

“See? She agrees with me” you said, Morgan glanced up at the mirror.

“She just likes shouting”

“Because she’s got your dna Morgan”

Sweet baby giggles were heard before the next frame played, Tilly was kicking her chubby legs from the trolly as Morgan pulled increasingly sillier faces at her.

“Is daddy funny Tilly girl” you cooed, stroking her cheek with your pointer finger “yes daddy is so silly isn’t he?”

The baby isle was your absolute element.

“Reader, she doesn’t need anymore baby grows. You have a serious problem”

“But look Morgan!” You exclaimed holding it out to him “it’s got ducks on!! She’d look so cute with a duck sleep suit on!!”

Morgan sighs, runs his hand down his face then adds the outfit to the trolly. Tilly babbled happily as he did, clearly knowing he lost to her cuteness again.

The vlog cut again as you rounded into another aisle, already halfway through convincing yourself you were being reasonable.

“I just don’t understand” you told the camera seriously, holding up a jar of baby food “why they’re all bright orange, poo green….this one purple!”

“She can’t even walk I don’t think she cares what colour her scran is” Morgan pushed the trolley behind you, unimpressed.

“It’s a valid point though, what’s in it?”

“They’re literally organic vegetables”

You ignored him completely, turning the camera toward Tilly instead. She was chewing enthusiastically on the corner of her toy while kicking her legs.

“Tell daddy we’re ready for Taco Bell” you encouraged, Morgan leaned down toward her.

“Tell mummy she’s an idiot” Tilly squealed.

“See?” you said smugly.

“She was agreeing with me” he muttered, but he was smiling anyway.

The vlog picked back up as you reached the end of the aisle, still holding the offending purple baby food like you were conducting an investigation.

“I’m just saying” you continued, zooming dramatically on the label “no adult voluntarily eats something this colour”

“You ate blue raspberry sweets for dinner when you were pregnant” Morgan didn’t even look up.

“That was different”

“How?”

“I was growing a human”

“Fair point” He nodded. Tilly squealed again, kicking both feet against the trolley tray like she was trying to participate in the debate, you angled the camera toward her.

“She understands nutritional concerns”

The next clip opened with Morgan suspiciously lingering near crisps “We are not here for snacks” you scolded immediately, he froze mid-reach.

“These are essentials”

“You said we were being healthy”

“Calorie deficit babe, don’t deprive me”

You turned the camera on yourself, whispering dramatically “He says this every week” Morgan tossed a multipack into the trolley anyway, Tilly clapped like she approved the decision.

“See?” he said “Boss approves”

The vlog cut back on as the trolley rolled toward the checkout, very obviously fuller than when you arrived. You zoomed dramatically onto it.

“We came in” you announced “for nappies”

“Explain literally all of this” Morgan immediately pointed at the pile.

“You added half of it”

“I added emotional support snacks.”

“You added six packs of crisps” you deadpanned back.

“I’m an athlete”

“You play clubs sitting down” You blinked at him.

“High intensity thumb work out”

You turned the camera toward Tilly, “This is who your father is” Tilly squealed loudly, smacking the trolley tray causing Morgan to gasp.

“Don’t turn her against me”

“She already knows who buys all her cute outfits”

He held up the duck sleepsuit again like evidence in court, “This is corruption, you use my money”

“You folded instantly”

“She looked at me!” he defended, pointing at Tilly. “Direct eye contact, I’m only human.”

The cashier laughed as Morgan started unloading the shopping. You leaned closer to the camera, whispering conspiratorially, “Watch him panic when the total comes up”

“I can hear you” Morgan muttered. The total flashed on screen, Morgan froze “Would be terrible if I got a phone call before I got the chance to pay”

“If you did that you’d be very single and missing your daughter” You burst out laughing.

“Yeah no I agree, that would be way to far on my part darlin’”

“Good boy” you moved your hand to tickle under his chin as he leaned away from you.

“Absolute tramp” Tilly slapped the counter happily, Morgan nodded at her. “Exactly, mummy’s a scruff isn’t she”

“She’s eight months old.”

“Still smarter than you” You gasped dramatically as the cashier handed over the receipt. Morgan took it, squinting “I don’t even want to look at this” He followed behind pushing the trolley, shaking his head but smiling anyway.

“Next vlog” he said to the camera, “we’re leaving her at home so I can shop responsibly”

You spun around walking backwards.

“You’d come back with energy drinks and vibes”

“Correct” Tilly giggled like she agreed, Morgan pointed at her “See? Me and her same wavelength.”

“Yeah unfortunately she’s got your DNA” You slung an arm over his shoulder as you walked out.

“And your attitude”

“Poor kid” you both said at the exact same time before breaking into laughter as the clip cut.

The camera angle was slightly shaky as you tried balancing it while loading bags into the boot.

“This” you announced, lifting a heavy bag dramatically, “is why online grocery shopping exists”

“And yet you refuse to use it” Morgan shut the boot beside you.

“Because I like leaving the house”

“You like being recognised”

“It’s a fan service” You gasped.

“You talked to someone about the pros and cons of breast feeding for 10 minutes”

“It’s important to be well informed Morgan” Behind you, Tilly babbled loudly from her car seat like she was contributing commentary. Morgan leaned into the back seat.

“You backing mummy up again?” She squealed in response, he looked at the camera.

“I’m outnumbered in my own family”

“You chose this” you said, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Unfortunately” he laughed as he started the engine.

Morgan drove without a care in the world, one hand on the wheel the other squeezing your thigh. The soothing motion of the car and soft hum of the radio sent Matilda off to a light sleep.

The frame wobbled slightly as you had Matilda sleeping against your chest, freehand outstretched with the camera.

“I’m taking a win today” you started, voice a hushed whisper “11:30 and she’s already had a half hours nap!”

Morgan did a silent cheer behind you, walking down the hallway to the kitchen with all 5 bags weighing him down.

“Why are you a hunchback babes?” You giggle.

“I’m not going back out to that fucking car” he muttered, far too seriously “not having my strength beaten by your Tesco addiction” Tilly stirred in protest, both of you froze instantly.

“Don’t make her wake up” Morgan whispered urgently.

“You’re the one stomping like Bigfoot!”

“I’m walking delicately” He shot you a betrayed look “You used to proper fancy me”

“I still do” you whispered, grinning. “Even when you look like a stressed Deliveroo driver”

He scoffed but smiled anyway, pushing past you into the kitchen and dramatically dumping the bags onto the counter with a relieved exhale. You followed, gently rocking Tilly, Morgan leaned over the counter catching his breath like he’d run a marathon.

“I’ve aged five years” he moaned, only getting a scoff and an eye roll from you in return.

He started unpacking immediately, moving slower now so the noise didn’t wake her. You watched him for a second, camera still angled toward both of you, he caught you staring.

“What?”

“You’re such a dad” you said softly.

Tilly made a tiny sleepy noise, cheek pressing deeper into your chest. Instinctively Morgan’s entire energy softened, he lowered his voice even more.

“She’s proper out ain’t she”

“Car naps hit different”

He stepped closer, carefully brushing a curl away from her forehead with one finger.

“…right, quick question.”

You sighed, “Go on”

“If she’s asleep… does that mean we get a cup of tea without interruption?” Your eyes widened slightly.

“Luxury” you breathed, he pointed toward the living room like a mission commander.

“Operation Sit Down begins now.”

“This is the most dangerous game parents play” You turned the camera back to yourself, whispering dramatically “We tried keeping to a routine but our Tilly girl is as chaotic as her dad and will do the exact opposite of what you want her to do, so we just flow now. Take the wins when they come”

You slipped Tilly gently into her cot just off camera the vlog cutting briefly before picking back up in the kitchen again, both of you moving like contestants on a silent game show. Morgan poured water into mugs with intense concentration, you leaned against the counter watching him.

“You know” you murmured, “pre-baby we used to go out at this time, see our friends, oooh still be in bed”

“Yeah” he nodded “Now we race kettles”

He slid a mug toward you immediately you clinked mugs together quietly like champagne glasses. From the monitor on the counter came soft baby breathing.

“I think we’re winning though right?” You grinned up at him, he nodded and kissed your forehead in reply.

The next clip opened mid-laugh, camera already rolling. Tilly was sat on a soft play mat in the living room surrounded by an excessive amount of toys she absolutely did not need. Plastic rings, stacking cups, a crinkly book, three different stuffed animals and for some reason a wooden spoon. You sat cross-legged opposite her, clapping enthusiastically.

“Welcome back” you told the camera “The tiny dictator has awoken from her slumber”

Tilly squealed like she agreed, immediately attempting to eat the wooden spoon. Morgan appeared behind the camera.

“She ignored every educational toy and chose kitchen equipment” he narrated “My daughter isn’t doing a lot for the feminist movement”

“She’s exploring textures” you defended.

“She’s licking wood” he deadpanned.

You shook a colourful stacking ring in front of her, she stared at you then aggressively launched herself forward onto her stomach instead.

“Brilliant start” Morgan snorted. You helped her sit again, placing a ring into her hand.

“Okay, show daddy how clever you are” She immediately threw it across the room, Morgan clapped proudly.

“She’s got my athletic ability, future striker she is”

“She’s eight months old!”

“Natural talent shows early, reader”

“We’re gonna be those laid-back parents, aren’t we?” You asked him.

“Until she’s fourteen” he replied instantly.

“Why fourteen?” you giggle “that is so specific”

“We got together at fourteen” he deadpanned as if that explained everything.

Tilly began excitedly slapping both hands against the mat, babbling loudly like she was giving a motivational speech.

“She’s been shouting at us all afternoon” You leaned toward the camera conspiratorially “I think she’s discovered she has opinions”

Morgan dropped onto the floor beside you with a dramatic groan, Tilly grabbed a chubby fistful of his hoodie strings and yanked. You laughed as she pulled him closer, immediately patting his face with zero gentleness in a way only a baby can get away with.

“Yes Tilly girl!” you encouraged. “Gentle hands”

She smacked his cheek again, Morgan looked personally betrayed, “That was violence”

“She loves you”

“She assaulted me” Tilly squealed happily, grabbing his nose next and he melted instantly.

“Oh no” he murmured softly, smiling despite himself “I forgive you princess”

“She’s obsessed with him,” you told the camera quietly “Won’t even look at me when he walks in a room”

“Daddy era” Morgan puffed his chest slightly, Tilly immediately leaned sideways toward you, arms reaching. You smirked.

“Mummy wins.”

“Probably just wants your tits, cant say i blame her” he winked before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“You’re absolutely disgusting Morgan!” You rolled your eyes at him before lifting Tilly into your lap, bouncing gently.

“Right, learning activity number two”

Morgan eyed you suspiciously, “What are you planning?”

You grabbed a soft sensory book and opened it dramatically, “We’re reading”

“She cannot read”

“She can experience literature” You held the book in front of Tilly “‘The cow says moo.’” Tilly slapped the page enthusiastically, Morgan leaned in.

“That cow’s getting battered”

“She’s engaging!” Tilly squealed again, then immediately tried to chew the corner of the book.

“Absorbing knowledge” Morgan nodded seriously, You dissolved into laughter.

The camera captured the three of you on the floor toys everywhere, baby giggles filling the room, Morgan lying on his side letting Tilly climb over him like a tiny mountain explorer. She planted both hands on his chest and pushed herself upright, wobbling proudly. Both of you froze.

“Oh my god” you whispered “Look at her!”

“That’s it baby… balance…” Morgan held his hands hovering just behind her, terrified to breathe.

Tilly stood for approximately one heroic second before dramatically face-planting into his hoodie. You turned the camera toward yourself, grinning.

“This is what ‘making learning fun’ looks like at eight months” Behind you, Morgan lifted Tilly into the air and she shrieked with joy.

“No pressure” he told her, “just vibes and developmental milestones”

“Absolutely zero professionalism in this household” You shook your head fondly.

Tilly squealed again, grabbing his face with both hands. Morgan looked at her like she’d personally invented happiness.

“…best thing we ever made, that”

You softened, watching them, “Yeah” you murmured “She really is.”

And right on cue Tilly let out a loud raspberry directly into his cheek. You burst out laughing as the clip cut.

The camera came back on propped against the fruit bowl, slightly crooked like every vlog camera ever. You stood at the counter chopping vegetables one-handed while gently bouncing Matilda on your hip, her tiny socked feet kicking against your thigh.

“Right,” you sighed dramatically toward the camera “it is currently half five which means it’s tea time in the Burtwistle house”

Behind you, Morgan leaned against the fridge scrolling his phone occasionally pulling faces or sticking his tongue out at Tilly. She shrieked in delight, nearly launching herself out of your arms.

“See?” Morgan grinned “She rates me more than you”

“She sees you less,” you shot back “Scarcity builds value”

“I LIVE HERE” He gasped dramatically.

“Debatable” You shifted Tilly onto your other hip, stirring something in the pan.

“She’s entered the phase” you told the camera seriously, “where she wants to be involved in absolutely everything but contributes nothing”

“Just like her mother” Morgan nodded solemnly, you didn’t even look at him just blindly elbowed backwards into his ribs.

“Ow! Domestic violence on camera!” Tilly smacked the counter happily, fully encouraging the chaos. Morgan leaned closer to her. “Mummy’s angry again, isn’t she?”

“I am not angry” you said immediately.

“You’re literally known as Angry Ginge’s baby mum”

“Exactly! You’re the angry one!” You pointed the wooden spoon at him he just chuckled, scooting away from you as you went to elbow him again.

The doorbell rang, followed by knocking.“GINGE OPEN THE NOOR!!!” Called a voice from outside the house, you and Morgan looked at each other with a sigh.

“And that” you cooed down to a babbling Tilly still secured on your hip. “Is apparently uncle jakey and auntie Ellie”

“They appear like bloodhounds when foods involved” Morgan deadpanned to the camera before going to let your guests in.

“HELLO PRETTY GIRL!” Ellie cooed to Matilda, instantly snatching her off your hip and giving her a big squish. “Auntie Ellie has missed you so much Tilly bum!”

“Unreal. Carried you for nine months and this is the loyalty I get” you ‘scolded’ Tilly as she babbled happily in Ellie’s arms. Jakey spotted the camera.

“Oh vlog’s on? Right everyone act normal”

“You’ve never acted normal a day in your life” Morgan snorted.

“You cried earlier because she sneezed milk on you” Jakey pointed accusingly.

“She aimed it” Morgan defended. “Eye contact and everything”

“She’s got your flare for dramatics already” Ellie bounced Tilly gently.

10 minutes later Tilly at the head of the table as Ellie feeds her mashed sweet potato’s and carrots. Morgan and Jakey were having some debate about 21 still being young enough to get away with having 67 bedsheets. You firmly agreed with your fiancé that anyone over the age of 11 shouldn’t have 67 anything.

“She takes bigger bites for me” Ellie bragged.

“She just prefers competent adults” you agreed, sliding plates onto the table.

“Betrayal” Morgan folded his arms as Jakey immediately grabbed a plate and started eating. Morgan didn’t start eating until you did, Jakey clocked it straight away, of course he did.

“You’ve changed, bro. Fatherhood softened you”

“I still have aura” Morgan muttered.

“You lost all your aura the moment you realised what having an actual newborn does to your sex life” you replied.

“Oh god I remember that” Ellie nearly choked laughing “must’ve been week three, he was ready to fight bloody everyone!”

“I was tired” Morgan slouched back into his chair, pointing his fork at her.

“You were sexually frustrated” you corrected calmly, taking a sip of your drink. Jakey slammed his hand on the table.

“YES. THANK YOU. SOMEONE SAID IT.”

“Can we not discuss my personal struggles over tea?” Morgan looked scandalised.

“You announced them publicly,” you reminded him. “You thought asking your fucking twitch chat ‘how soon is too soon to try hit‘ was a good idea!”

“NOT ON LIVE GINGE?” Ellie wheezed.

“I thought they’d understand!” Morgan defended.

“They told you I was out of your league and they’d treat me better” you laughed.

Tilly smacked her tray loudly since she wasn’t the centre of attention for a few minutes, Jakey leaned toward her.

“Your dad nearly lost his mind, kid. Man went celibate for six business weeks”

Morgan buried his face in his hands with a groan. Softly you nudged his leg under the table, he tried to stay grumpy for about two seconds before smiling anyway.

Dinner dissolved into overlapping conversations, forks clinking, Tilly squealing every time someone made eye contact with her like she’d discovered fame. Ellie wiped sweet potato from Tilly’s chin.

“She’s honestly such a happy baby”

“His nana cried the first time she held her, I don’t know whether it was the name or the baby”

“Full tears. Said she looked exactly like me” Morgan nodded immediately.

“Your mum was worse” you added “She walked in, saw Tilly and just went ‘right that’s my baby now’ and stole her for three hours”

“They fought over who got first cuddle” Morgan grinned “I’ve never seen competition like it”

“And from that day on she’s been satisfied knowing she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger…. And she sleeps like her dad” you said.

“And what does that mean?” Morgan scoffed.

“You don’t sleep, you unplug from the world and make rouge dinosaur noises instead of breathing”

Tilly suddenly launched a spoon onto the floor, everyone froze. Morgan leaned down slowly, picked it up, wiped it, handed it back.

It immediately got launched again.

“…she’s taking the piss” He stared at her.

“She’s experimenting with gravity” you giggled

“She’s bullying me”

The next shot was the Jakey mobile driving down the road as the three of you waved it off before the camera cut again.

The lighting was softer now a soft constellation night like reflecting off the pale yellow of Tilly’s nursery. You adjusted your top slightly, settling Matilda against your chest as she rooted impatiently.

“Alright, alright” you murmured, smiling tiredly “Someone’s very impatient when she’s tired”

Tilly latched almost immediately, little hand pressing against your skin like she needed confirmation you were still there. You looked toward the camera, voice quieter without even meaning to be.

“This is usually the calmest part of our day” you said softly. “Everything else is chaos… and then she just switches into cuddle mode at like 8ish every night”

“She ignores me completely during this bit” came Morgan’s voice from off camera. You snorted.

“Because you’re useless right now” He wandered into frame anyway, freshly showered, hair damp, holding two mugs.

“I bring emotional support tea” he corrected, handing one carefully to you before dropping onto the floor beside the chair.

He leaned his head back against your knee automatically, like it was muscle memory. For a minute neither of you spoke. Just the quiet sounds of Tilly feeding and the faint hum of the baby monitor.

Morgan glanced up, “She still does the hand thing” Tilly’s tiny fingers were curled around yours, squeezing every few seconds.

“Yeah,” you smiled “Only when she’s super sleepy”

“She’s getting big though” He watched her with that completely soft expression he never noticed himself doing.

“That’s the weird part” you nodded slowly, free hand stroking Matilda’s cheek. “I spoke about this earlier but I’m going to go on again - sorry!”

There was a slight pause as you smiled at the camera, briefly looking towards Morgan. His attention hadn’t drifted, still waiting to hear what was troubling you.

“Everyone tells you breastfeeding’s hard and it is. I don’t miss mastitis or the cluster feeding at the beginning… oh or the teething stage where she kept biting” you let out a soft laugh, trying to refocus on what your point was “anyways she just doesn’t need me like that anymore, it’s a bittersweet journey”

“You miss it?” Morgan frowned slightly.

“A bit,” you admitted. “Even when she wouldn’t sleep unless she was latched and would scream the house down if I put her down”

“You used to threaten to switch to formula everyday” He laughed quietly.

“I was hormonal and sleep deprived!”

“You still are” he teased gently, you kicked his shoulder lightly. He reached up absent-mindedly, tracing slow circles on your ankle grounding, affectionate, completely natural.

“You’re unreal though” he said after a moment, you blinked in confusion. “All of it. Pregnancy. Feeding her. Keeping her alive while I panic about milk enhancing snacks and if I’ve filled your water bottle up recently enough”

“You’re a good dad, Morgan” You smiled, slightly embarrassed.

“I’m an excellent assistant,” he corrected “You’re the main character”

Tilly made a tiny satisfied noise, already drifting toward sleep. Both of you instinctively lowered your voices even more.

“She falls asleep faster with you” Morgan whispered.

“That’s because I’m comfy”

“I was going to say because she loves you more” He glanced up with a grin.

“She absolutely does” You smirked.

“Rude” he muttered, though he was smiling.

“Postpartum’s strange,” you admitted quietly “Everyone focuses on the baby but you’re also trying to become yourself again”

Morgan looked up immediately, “She forgets to mention I basically forced her to nap”

“You did,” you laughed softly. “He made sure I ate, took her when I cried over nothing, kept telling me I was doing alright”

“We had a system” He shrugged.

“We did” you giggled softly “he said since he couldn’t do the night feeds he was doing everything else, so he’d bring her to me take her and burp her change her and put her back to bed after every feed”

“Mummy deserved a rest too” Morgan smiled up at you. Tilly’s sleepy sigh pulls focus back to her, her hand relaxed, milk-drunk and sleepy. You shifted her gently onto your shoulder, patting her back, the tiniest burp escaped.

“That’s my girl” Morgan gasped dramatically. You laughed under your breath as he stood carefully, already moving toward Matilda.

“Right” he whispered, hands out. “Transfer specialist reporting for duty”

You hesitated before handing her over, watching the way he automatically supported her head, swaying slightly without thinking. He disappeared off camera toward the bedroom you turned back toward the lens, voice warm and tired.

“This part of motherhood… nobody really films it much. But it’s probably my favourite”

Morgan reappeared seconds later, “She’s down” he whispered giving a thumbs-up to the camera. Both of you froze, listening. Silence, success.

“We’ve done it” You whispered triumphantly. Morgan leaned down, kissing the top of your head without thinking. The clip cut on both of you sneaking out of the room like criminals.

The camera clicked back on facing the bathroom mirror, slightly foggy from the shower earlier. You leaned in close immediately, whisper-shouting.

“Right! Emergency update”

You angled the camera toward the hallway. Through the cracked door, Morgan sat at his streaming desk, headset on, fully locked in talking with his hands, laughing loudly at something chat said. You zoomed dramatically.

“Daddy’s working… which means mummy gets to be a glowing, moisturised goddess without someone climbing me like Mount Everest” You turned the camera back to yourself, already grinning “Watch this though I guarantee the second I start relaxing, Tilly girl wakes up. Babies hate when you feel peace” Hair went up into a messy bun, you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“I used to have a full nighttime routine, I used to be in full glam every day” You grabbed your cleanser “Now it’s whatever I can do before somebody either cries or asks where his clean joggers are” You nodded toward the hallway “He knows where they are by the way. He just likes attention”

You started washing your face, voice dropping into that relaxed ramble people only do when they’re alone.

“Also… can we talk about how unfair it is that he gets to sit in a chair gaming for work while I’m here fighting for my life against hormonal skin?” You rinsed your face “I love him. Deeply. But if this man says he’s ‘tired after stream’ tonight…” You raised an eyebrow at the camera “…I may commit crimes.”

A muffled laugh echoed from the streaming room, you froze dramatically.

“Oh my god imagine he heard me” you leaned closer to the lens “Chat would absolutely back me. They know he’s obsessed with me” Serum went onto your fingertips. You smoothed it across your cheeks, visibly unwinding “This is genuinely the best bit of the day though, baby asleep, house quiet, nobody touching me”

“…apart from him in about twenty minutes when he suddenly remembers he has a girlfriend” You snorted at your own joke “Honestly though, watching him become a dad has been suspiciously attractive. Like sir??? When did you become competent??” You tapped your cheek thoughtfully “Man settles the baby at three in the morning and suddenly I’m ready to risk it all again” You pointed at the camera “That’s how they trap you into more babies. I see the agenda, I’m not falling for it again!” You grabbed moisturiser next.

“And breastfeeding hormones? Nobody prepares you for the emotional damage when feeds start dropping” You softened slightly, rubbing cream into your skin “I complained about leaking for months… now she only feeds morning and night and I’m like” you pressed a hand to your chest dramatically “my tiny best friend doesn’t need me as much anymore” You sighed, then immediately shook it off “Anyway before I cry on camera and ruin the vibes”

You finished rubbing in your moisturiser, wiping the excess cream on a flannel.

“And people always ask if she’ll be on streams properly probably not, like shes in the vlogs slightly now because I’m just mummy but when she’s older it’ll be up to her. Right now she’s just our little accessory until she figures out her legs work”

Morgan’s laugh echoed faintly from the other room.

“Also chat would absolutely corrupt her, I don’t want my baby girl losing her innocence” The baby monitor crackled. You froze, both hands mid-air, eyes wide. Silence. You exhaled slowly “That right there is the scariest sound known to parents” You leaned closer, whispering “I swear they wait until you open eye cream” You picked it up anyway “Risking it”

Softly tapping it under your eyes, you glanced toward the hallway again. Morgan’s laugh echoed louder now, you smiled without meaning to.

“He’s actually living his best life in there. Got snacks, chair, friends, admiration…” You paused “…meanwhile I grew his child” You nodded firmly “Unequal distribution of labour” Then a grin crept in “But also… I’d choose this life every time” You leaned onto the counter casually, talking like the camera was genuinely your mate “We used to be out at this hour, you know. Pub, takeaway, chaos” Small shrug “Now our wild night is tea, baby monitor and arguing about whose turn it is to lock the doors” You picked up your lip balm “And honestly? I love it more.. is that weird?”

You leaned closer conspiratorially, “Don’t tell him I said that. He’ll get smug”. Footsteps suddenly approached down the hallway. Your eyes widened.

Morgan’s voice called faintly, “Babe have you seen-” He appeared in the doorway mid-sentence, hoodie sleeves pushed up.

“There you are, oh you’re filming”

“Interrupting my self-care era again?”You smirked, he leaned against the doorframe, looking you up and down.

“…you look fit”

“Go back to work” You tried to stay serious and immediately failed, laughing.

“Just needed a kiss for morale” he said casually.

You rolled your eyes but leaned forward anyway. Quick kiss. He lingered half a second longer than necessary.

“Right” you pushed his shoulder, smiling, “off you go streamer boy”

“Tell them I’m being neglected” He pointed at the camera.

“You’ve spoken to over 8,000 people tonight, you’ll be fine”

“And yet none of them made me a baby”

You snorted as he walked away.

“See?” you told the camera. “Cheek” You picked up the, dim light glowing “Anyway… skincare complete, marriage intact, baby still asleep” You lowered your voice again “This is peak adulthood”

The vlog clicked back on in low lighting, camera balanced on the kitchen counter beside the kettle. Only the small under-cabinet light was on, casting everything in that warm late-night glow.

You padded into frame first wearing cotton pyjama shorts and one of Morgan’s T-shirts, hair freshly brushed, skincare complete. Visibly softer, calmer.

“Post-stream debrief” You whispered dramatically.

Behind you, Morgan shuffled in seconds later, hair fluffy from hands being ran through, hoodie rumpled, looking equal parts exhausted and wired.

“I survived” He pointed immediately at the camera.

“You sat in a chair talking to your mates”

“MENTALLY exhausting” he whispered back, offended.

The kettle clicked on, both of you instinctively looked toward the baby monitor sitting between you. Soft breathing, still asleep. You both exhaled at the same time.

“Every parent knows that panic every time it makes a noise” you murmured, Morgan leaned closer to the monitor like he didn’t quite trust it.

“She moved earlier”

“She rolled over”

“How do you know?”

“I felt it spiritually”

“…you’re unwell” He blinked at you.

“I grew your child” You smiled sweetly.

“Fair”

He reached for two mugs automatically, passing yours to you before even making his own. Morgan leaned his hip against the counter you’d decided to sit on, shoulders brushing yours as he leaned to the side.

“So” he said, nudging you gently “what did you chat about while I was streaming?”

“Skincare, motherhood, how fit you are when you’re being a good dad” You stirred your tea.

“You told the internet that?” He choked slightly.

“They already know” you shrugged. He grinned, clearly pleased despite trying not to be. You sipped your tea, eyes half-closing “This is my favourite part of the day”

“Same” he admitted instantly.

“No one touching us”

“No crying”

“No mashed sweet potato in my hair.”

You both paused, monitor glance, still asleep. Morgan lowered his voice even more.

“She’s gonna wake up now you’ve said that”

“Don’t manifest it” You lightly kicked his shin. He caught your ankle without thinking, thumb rubbing absent circles over your skin while he drank his tea.

“You flirt more now we have a baby”

“I do not”

“You absolutely do”

“You’re hot when you’re a mum” He shrugged.

“That’s the worst compliment I’ve ever received” You nearly spat your drink laughing.

“No right listen” he whispered urgently, leaning closer, “seeing you with her? Feeding her, bossing everyone around, knowing exactly what she needs” He shook his head like he couldn’t explain it. “Does something to me”

You stared at him, “you’re chatting me up in the kitchen at midnight” he nodded “Like we haven’t been together years”

“Still trying to pull you” He grinned lazily.

“You already trapped me with a baby” You leaned closer conspiratorially.

“And a ring” he added smugly.

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. Silence settled for a moment, Just kettle ticks cooling down and quiet breathing from the monitor. His arm slid around your waist automatically, pulling you closer. Another shared glance at the monitor, still asleep. Both of you relaxed deeper.

“You know,” he murmured, voice softer now “we used to stay up this late doing absolutely nothing productive”

“We’re still doing nothing productive”

“Yeah” He nodded without hesitation. A beat passed, then he tilted his head toward you, eyes mischievous “…also she’s asleep”

“Morgan” You narrowed your eyes immediately.

“What?”

“I know that tone”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You implied something”

“I’m just saying… uninterrupted adult conversation is rare” He grinned shamelessly.

“You’re unbelievable” You laughed under your breath.

“And you love me” Unfortunately true. You leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. It lingered, just slightly. He chased it when you pulled away.

“Go lock the doors” you pushed his chest.

“Yes ma’am” He saluted dramatically and wandered off.

You turned toward the camera, whispering like you were sharing gossip with a friend.

“This is how second babies happen”

“I HEARD THAT” Came from the hallway.

You pointed at him accusingly.

“She laughs at both of us at the same time and my brain goes we should have another”

“I knew it!” Morgan’s eyes lit up.

“And then she wakes up at 2am” you added.

“One child is ideal” He nodded immediately.

You bit your lip to stop laughing. The monitor crackled softly, both of you froze instantly. Absolute silence, you stared at each other, waited, nothing.

“Nearly lost everything there” Morgan exhaled dramatically.

“High risk environment” You nodded seriously.

He returned beside you, stealing one last sip of tea before leaning down to kiss your temple. You smiled up at him, sleepy now.

“Right,” you whispered to the camera “parents are clocking off for the night”

“Night chat” Morgan waved lazily behind you.

“See you tomorrow… assuming we survive the night” You reached forward, lowering your voice one last time, Camera off.

The camera flicked on in near darkness, the picture grainy and slightly tilted like you’d grabbed your phone purely out of spite.

Morgan paced beside the bed, Tilly tucked against his shoulder, bouncing gently while whispering with intense determination.

“Apparently our day hasn’t ended yet…” You mumbled from under the duvet, voice thick with sleep. Morgan checked his phone, the glow lighting up his exhausted face.

“…two thirty-seven am” he sighed. “Nice one, Tilly girl” He adjusted her carefully, patting her back.

“We don’t need to wake mummy,” he whispered confidently “Daddy’s just as good”

“I’m recording this” you snorted from the bed.

“Absolutely not. Delete that immediately” His head snapped up.

You zoomed in instead. Morgan began doing an overly serious bounce, knees bending like he’d seen on one parenting TikTok and decided he was now an expert on.

“You’re fine… daddy’s comforting you… elite service over here…” Tilly rooted against his chest, he froze. “…why are you searching?” he whispered accusingly, she fussed louder. “I don’t have milk,” he informed her gently “I have sleepy vibes”

“Babe…” The crying escalated, you laughed into the pillow.

“I’ve got it,” he insisted quickly, pacing faster “She just needs settling” Tilly let out a full offended cry, Morgan looked genuinely betrayed “I am providing emotional stability!”

“She wants comfort”

“She wants boobs!” he corrected. “Which is unfair because I do too!”

“She is eight months old” You wheezed.

“And I have been patient” he whispered dramatically “Those used to be recreational” Tilly cried harder, he looked down at her, exasperated. “You can’t just wake up at half two demanding exclusive access like a tiny nightclub bouncer”

“Give her here” You sat up, reaching your arms out.

“No,” he said stubbornly “She needs to learn daddy works too”

Tilly immediately wailed louder, Morgan stopped pacing. Silence.

“…this feels targeted” He stared at her, you held your hands out again.

“Pass the baby, Romeo”

“The system is rigged” He surrendered her with deep reluctance. The second she latched, the room fell completely quiet, Morgan stared offended “Right. Okay. Cool”

“Magic boobs” You grinned sleepily.

“I spent fifteen minutes doing cardio” He collapsed onto the bed beside you, rubbing his face.

“You walked three circles”

“That was an advanced soothing technique” Tilly made a tiny satisfied noise, milk-drunk already, Morgan watched her hand relax against your chest “…she didn’t even pretend to consider my offer”

You tilted the camera toward him.

“She knows quality service”

“They used to be our boobs” He squinted at you.

“They were never communal property!” You burst out laughing.

“I love them and appreciate them more than you ever have!” He argued.

You laughed so hard the camera shook. Morgan slid closer, arm wrapping around your waist, head resting against your shoulder anyway.

“…fine,” he murmured “I’ll allow it. For her” A beat, then quietly “But when she’s weaned, I’m filing for full custody”

“Get some sleep, you weirdo” You kissed the top of his head.

He leaned toward the camera one last time, whispering seriously, “Parenting update: I have been replaced by dairy” The screen faded as both of you tried not to laugh and wake her.

The vlog switched back on to harsh morning light and a slightly too-close selfie angle. You squinted at the camera, hair messy, still half wrapped in a blanket.

“…soooo,” you said slowly “we forgot to end the vlog”

Behind you Morgan groaned from somewhere off screen.

“We got distracted” you added innocently, A small pause “…by my boobs.”

Morgan immediately popped into frame, hair sticking up, clearly not fully awake.

“Not hard though, have you seen them?” he nodded seriously toward the camera, one of his big hands instantly squeezing a boob “Phwoar”

“MORGAN!” you shoved his face away, laughing.

“You brought it up!” He only grinned wider, completely unashamed.

“I meant because your daughter woke up seventeen times!” you defended.

“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully “for the boobs” You covered your face, laughing into your hands.

“Anyway” you tried again, regaining composure, “hope you enjoyed spending a day with us”

“Peak entertainment. Crying, Tesco, dairy debates” Morgan leaned over your shoulder, waving lazily.

“Sorry this is the only video this week,” you continued “I’ll be honest… I couldn’t be bothered to plan one”

“Authenticity” Morgan nodded “Raw content”

“Parenthood humbles you” you added solemnly.

From somewhere off camera came Tilly’s happy babble. Both of you instantly turned your heads, Morgan pointed.

“Boss is awake”

“Anyway, bye!” You smiled back at the camera. “Say bye, Morgan!” You nudged him hard.

Neither of you had quite believed the multitude of tests currently sat in the bathroom cabinet. Yes you’d peed on them, Yes they were all positive and yes you were bring up your stomach contents multiple times a day - ‘morning’ sickness was bullshit.

Lying on the table was the most nerve wracking experience of your life. You were practically vibrating with nervous energy as the sonographer applied the gel to your tummy and started the ultrasound.

Morgan was pretending to be nonchalant, as if this was something he did on the daily, but the hand gripping yours gave him away.

Before long the screen was turned around and the most beautiful misshapen blob appeared on the screen. The nurse pointing it out to the pair of you.

Your baby.

The sound of their heartbeat was sounding around the room bringing tears to yours and your boyfriend’s eyes.

“Are you crying” you cooed looking up to him, Watery smile on your face.

His free hand came and rubbed his eyes. “No chance. Dusty in here ain’t it?”

The two females in the room laughed with you as you squeezed his hand even tighter in your grip.

Once the scan was over Morgan was rubbing the gel off you before you had the chance to grab the paper towels the nurse handed you. Touch feather light as if he was scared to hurt you or the baby. Before helping you get your clothes sitting right again and sat upright on the exam table.

Morgan lent down leaving sweet kisses in your hairline as the sonographer printed off a few scan photos for you to take home.

Back in the car you wasted no time in looking at your little alien baby photos, tears falling freely - everything feeling much more real than it did when you woke up.

Your boyfriend was looking at you, his eyes glossy too, hand stretched over the centre console to touch your nonexistent bump.

“That’s our baby” he nodded to the photo in your hand. “I made that. Mental”

“We made it Morgan!” You laughed. “Did you hear the heartbeat?”

“Yeah. It was so loud. We’re really having a baby reader. I’m going to be a dad” he was grinning, pearly whites on display contrasting drastically to his tear streaked face.

Your forehead fell to his as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“We’ve got proof to show people now. It still somehow doesn’t feel real” you whispered to him.

“I don’t think it’ll actually hit us until we’re holding them - maybe not even then” he was laughing. “Right, shall we get you something to eat darlin’?”

Realisation slowly started coming to the pair of you and the reality of telling people outside of your little bubble was creeping up. Both of your families already knew - neither of you could keep a secret from nana Julie and by extension Michelle.

Deciding today was the day to break the news to the boys, they’d started getting worried at your recurrent illnesses, you’d planned an off stream dinner at the house tonight.

Before getting home Morgan took you around Trafford centre to pass the time; and hopefully relax both of your nerves a bit.

Naturally Morgan dragged you into JD whilst you were shopping. Stopping in his tracks when he saw the tiniest man united kit potentially in the world.

“So he’s got to have that then” Morgan declared, picking up the kit showing it to you excitedly.

“I’m 11 weeks pregnant Morgan we don’t even know if it’s a boy” You laughed at him, your hand subconsciously touching your belly.

That didn’t deter him.

“Regardless. My kid is gonna support united from the womb reader. He’s going to have this on the second he’s out of ya”

Rolling your eyes fondly you let him win this little bicker, Secretly feeling soft that he was showing so much interest in your little bean already. Of course the first baby item purchased was a bloody football kit.

“Come on then, boys are waiting” you said, dragging him by his elbow to the tills and then car. Hunger pains attacking your stomach the more you thought about your chicken fried rice from the chinese.

Walking into the usual chaos that followed the group wherever they were brought the nerves back tenfold. Ryan and Charlie were wrestling in the living room, Tays egging them on from the sideline and Jakey looking fed up on the sofa doomscrolling. House volume on max. Standard.

“Alright?” Morgan made his presence known as he walked into the room, his hand in yours pulling you to the sofa with him.

“The king is home” Ryan laughed from his hunched position around Charlie, the boys ceasing their fight at your entrance.

“We kind of need to talk to you guys about something” You were playing with Morgan’s fingers in your lap as you spoke, anxiety oozing out of you.

“Sounds serious. What have we done now?” Charlie asked sitting on the coffee table opposite you, Mikey joining him.

“Better not be bad news. I wanted a happy family chinese not a depressing one” Jakey grumbled putting his phone down.

“Nah it’s good news… At least we think so”

There was a short stretch of nervous silence, you too anxious to speak and Morgan not able to find the right words.

“So you gonna let us know then”. It was Mikey who broke the silence, clearly fed up of the anxious energy in the room.

“Sooooo…” he made eye contact with you and you both burst into laughter at the seriousness of the situation. The pair of you feeling far too immature to be having this conversation.

“Fucksakes.” Ryan rolled his at the two of you. “Have ye proposed or something? ‘cause we’re still married king” He gestured between himself and your boyfriend.

“Fat chance, been dating 9 years I’m never getting a ring” you scoffed at the suggestion.

“Eh, any chance here love? One thing at a time yeah?”

Rolling your eyes in reply you finally turned your attention to the boys for the first time since getting to the house.

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out to the five men looking back at you.

The 10 seconds that followed were probably the most silent 10 seconds that any area surrounding the 5 men had ever been. You were positive if you were to drop a pin you’d hear it drop.

“No way?” Charlie stood up smiling one hand coming up to cover his mouth, Jakey started laughing looking at you in disbelief.

“I told yous he was an addict!” Mikey exclaimed tapping Ryan’s arm repeatedly.

“Aye and I agreed with ye, ye wee prick” Ryan replied shrugging Mikey’s arm away. “Ye going to take a leaf out ye da’s book and run for some milk mate or are we happy”

The four boys laughed at Ryan’s cheeky question, you letting out quiet giggles in shock along with them.

Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “Cheeky prick. Not letting you see the scan photo now Beano. Knob’ead”.

“Ah nah don’t be like that king. I took it too far, overstepped the mark I apologise. Let us see”

“50 gifted and I’ll forgive you Beano” your boyfriend smirked.

“Can I have a look reader. I’ve not been a prick like them” Jakey asked you, knowing your soft spot for him as the baby of the group.

Waving your hand to beckon him closer you pulled the photos from your hoodie pocket. Pointing out the little blob that was your babies head, then little belly and barely there yet arms.

“So it’s actually like real and that?” Charlie spoke, leaning over Jakey’s shoulder to see the scan. Ryan and Mikey quickly following suit.

“That’s actually mental that tho. You’re going to have like a full on baby and that” Mikey looked up at you, big smile on his face.

“Aye congratulations King, reader”

“Just think of the views we can get for putting ‘angryginge’s baby’ in all of our titles from now on as well” Jakey smirked looking around the group with his eyebrows raised.

“You are absolutely not using my child for click bait… or mentioning them before we’ve made a proper announcement” Morgan warned them, protective dad mode already seeping in, making your smile grow as you peered over to him.

Before long your big announcement was old news, takeaway was en route and everyone half watching some random movie on Ryan’s dodgy fire stick while they scrolled on their phones or engaged in meaningless conversation.

In the peace Morgan turned to you, his eyes meeting yours and his hand finding your belly thumb stroking absentmindedly.

“I can’t wait till they’re here ye know?” Morgan whispered to you before placing a kiss on the side of your head. In response you let your body fall against his, cuddling into his side taking in the love your chosen family already had for your growing baby.

Announcing your baby to the ‘fans’ was terrifying. You were 16 weeks and the bump was getting harder to hide, even with Morgan’s oversized hoodies.

Spending a full afternoon taking the perfect photo, the pair of you finally decided on one with spike included.

The two of you were sat in the garden on a blanket, Spike sat proudly in front with a little bow on his collar. You sat on your knees scan photos in one hand, bright smile on your face. Morgan sat beside you, one arm secured around you resting on your growing belly other hand holding up the tiny united top up, him wearing a matching one.

The caption was simple, Baby Burtwistle due October 2026.

The influx of messages you got was overwhelming, so much love from the online community you’d curated over the past 7 years.

Morgan took a few days off from streaming after the news went public, letting the two of you enjoy the pregnancy bubble before actively having to hear the opinions of chat.

The first stream back was chaotic. You’d decided to make it a sort of q&a - get everything out of the way sooner rather than later. And to avoid having to repeat yourselves the remainder of your pregnancy.

“Hello chat, You all doing okay?” Morgan laughed at the monitor, spamming questions about your pregnancy, congratulations to you both and asking why you’d dipped offline after breaking the internet.

“We’ll answer your questions calm down” Morgan was chuckling, eyes scanning the messages coming through.

“How’s reader doing” He turned his head towards you as he read the message out.

“I’m doing good thanks chat” you smiled, subconsciously rubbing your growing belly. “Baby has finally stopped making me sick every time I eat”

“No we don’t know what we’re having yet, think we find out in a week or so” Your boyfriend replied, cracking his fingers.

“Yeah we have an appointment next week, Ellie and Heather are getting together with the boys and throwing us a gender reveal party so you guys will get a video when that happens”

Morgan started laughing as he saw the chat asking for the reactions of your friends. He pointed it out to you making you giggle as well.

“Sorry to disappoint but when we told the boys they were more bothered we didn’t let them order their chinese first” you laughed, leaning into Morgan instinctively.

“Don’t forget Beano accusing me of leaving you cause I got you knocked up” His arm came to rest around you, big hand sitting on top of yours on your belly as he rolled his eyes at the memory.

“There’s not really much else we can tell you, just more waiting until we find out if Morgan’s getting his footballer and then even more waiting after that”

A kiss was left on your head as Morgan started talking generally to chat, starting a poll for what game they wanted him to play.

Letting them vote he turned his attention to you, making sure you’re alright. Fingers rubbing soothing circles on your bump, grounding himself as well as you.

“How you feeling Darlin’, you need anything?” His voice was soft, dropping his entertainer persona.

You couldn’t help the curve of your lips at his instinctive protectiveness. “I’m fine babe, Hungry - will you get me some hash browns?”

Batting your eyelashes to seal the deal, not that Morgan could say no to you if he tried.

Instantly his phone was out and opened to uber eats, placing your order before getting back to his stream.

Every few minutes his eyes would drift to you, checking you over before trying to lock into the game. He failed - unable to stop himself.

Chat didn’t let him brush it off, bring up every time he lost focus.

“He’s obsessed with me chat, anno. Bit creepy sometimes to be honest. I’m just trying to exist and there’s this tall ginger fucker watching my every move” You told them, causing a huff of disbelief to escape your boyfriend.

“You taking the piss?” He scoffed turning to face you. “It’s you that’s obsessed with me, fuckin’ trying to mount me every five minutes can’t catch me breath”

“Shut up Morgan” you slapped his arm. “Why you telling the internet that ye knob?”

A howl of laughter tore out of him at that, leaning away from you as you slapped him.

“Nah fuck you” you stood up to walk out the room as his hand grabbed your arm.

“Where’d you think you’re going?”

“Getting my baby away from negative influences. Going to sit with Jakey, where I’m appreciated” you rolled your eyes at him walking out of the room.

He scoffed turning back to his computer. “Absolute joke honestly chat. Think your Mrs mood swings are bad on her period just wait till you get them pregnant it’s a whole different hellscape”.

Despite his words a fond smile refused to leave his face as he shook his head, grabbing his controller and trying to move on.

The garden was loud and chaotic as Morgan guided you into it with a gentle hand to your back.

All your housemates, their girlfriends and both of your families were scattered around in a sea of contrasting blues and pinks.

Pink and blue balloons were tied to every available surface, a big banner over the decking and Michelle making sure the buffet table had equal blue and pink confectionery of every kind.

Jakey and Ellie were in a heated debate about whether you were having a boy or girl, Camera man chaz on tiktok duty running around after everyone to get their gender predictions.

Heather was bossing the remainder of the boys into setting up decorations for the reveal video. Julie and your own nan were sitting to the side with a cuppa watching the chaos unfold.

“What happened to lowkey?” You let out a laugh, completely overwhelmed with the outpouring love for your little bean.

Katie made her way over to you waving off your question and getting the pair of you to pick a team boy or team girl sticker.

Peeling off a team girl you stuck it to your pale pink dress, It floated around your belly showcasing your bump and landing above your knees. Morgan opted for team boy, sticking it to his blue football shirt - he refused to dress up to go to his garden and spend time with his family.

You started mingling with your friends, thanking them for coming. More guests started arriving – They definitely missed the lowkey memo.

Before long Chaz had you and Morgan standing in front of the banner surrounded by balloons to get you in the tiktok.

“So Morgan, reader what’s your gender predictions?”

Tilting your head you looked up to your baby daddy, his eyes already on your face smiling down at you.

“Not bothered are we darlin’” his arm came around your shoulder pulling you into his side slightly. Grins permanently stuck to both of your faces.

“BORING ANSWER” was shouted across the garden from Jakey making the two of you burst into laughter, shaking your head at the baby of the group.

“Fine, if I have to pick I’m going girl because Morgan’s convinced he’s getting a boy” you spoke towards the camera before smirking at your boyfriend.

“I’ve said I’m not bothered if it’s a boy, I don’t know why she’s lying on the internet” He rolled his eyes at you, smile still present. “But yeah I’ll pick boy because she’ll call me a liar if I don’t”.

Morgan led you to the food table, hand not leaving the base of your spine as you walked. Every time you passed someone you were getting stopped, asked for hugs and your belly was getting touched by excited friends.

Before you knew it Ellie was coming over to you, stealing the pink cookie you had half way to your mouth and dragging you and Morgan to stand in front of the gender reveal banner.

“Fucking hell Ellie, can I not eat first - I’m literally growing human life right now?” You complained, grabbing the cannon that was placed into your hands.

Morgan leaned down towards you, “who decided to trust us with explosives… while you’re pregnant.”

You both giggled falling into each other at that. “If it explodes in my face and takes my eyebrow off I’m never forgiving you Morgan”.

Ryan, bossy as ever, shouted at you both to stand properly so they could start the countdown. Cameras and phones aimed at you as they started shouting.

THREE

Your palms were getting sweaty, head tilted to look at Morgan. He was already looking at you, bottom lip between his teeth.

TWO

You were fairly sure your heart was about to escape your ribcage.

ONE

You twisted the cannon, jumping at the big bang it made before seeing a cloud of pink surrounding you.

Suddenly you weren’t surrounded by all your loved ones, It was just you and Morgan. His arms enveloped you, picking you up as you started crying. The excitement behind you was a faint buzz in your ears.

Placing you back onto your feet Morgan looked down at you, his hands cupping each side your jaw.

“We’re having a girl” He whispered, letting out a breathless laugh. Tears of his own escaping the more it set in.

“You’re crying?”

“Shut up” he shook his head at you, uncontainable smile shining down at you.

Then you were getting jumped on and cuddled by excited aunties, uncles and grandparents to be.

“Told you it was going to be a girl didn’t I?” Mikey boasted as he got to you. Arms wrapping around the pair of you, before the other bov boys joined in making it a big bovhouse sandwich.

“Right but you were also convinced Danny and Ten were having a boy. Calm down” your boyfriend joked back to him.

“Ah common he’s not right very often let him have this one” Ryan laughed out to the group.

You rolled your eyes making your way to your family, Michelle tearing up along with the Nans.

The second you stepped up to them you were pulled into a hug from the three women, Morgan too as soon as you were freed.

Julie hugged you last, wrapping you securely in her arms before one hand fell to your bump rubbing it gently.

“Got lucky there reader, hopefully she’s just like you instead of that big ginger bastard”

“Any chance here” Morgan scoffed out, looking to his mum for some support. He didn’t get any, she was laughing and nodding in agreement with his Nana.

“I know, he’s gonna have to start saving, 4 girls he’s got to spoil now” you winked at your in laws getting another scoff from your boyfriend.

Julie wasn’t finished with him yet, scanning him with her eyes. “A daughter” she scoffed. “Yep you’re absolutely finished”

Laughter rippled through the garden as Morgan groaned, shrugging his shoulders as he pulled you towards him.

“I’m not finished Nana” He argued, cheeky grin betraying him instantly.

“Oh you are Morgan” Her hand came up and patted his cheek. “She’ll just have to look at you and you’ll fold like a deck chair”

She turned to you, eyes softening and humour dissolving. “You’re doing good, love. Another strong woman in our family”

Her hand found yours on your belly, giving it a soft squeeze, before letting you and Morgan receive congratulations from the rest of your guests.

Around you celebrations were on going, someone playing music, photos being taken, pink powder staining the grass.

Neither of you payed it any attention as you found a quiet moment for each other.

His forehead was rested on yours, hand on your stomach rubbing soothing patterns to ground himself.

“You happy” he mumbled into the space between you.

“I’m so happy, what about you?”

“I’m getting a mini version of you, I’ve never been happier” With that his lips fell to yours in a sweet kiss.

Someone in Morgan’s chat had told him the baby would be able to hear his voice and then recognise it once she was born.

He paid it no attention at first.

But then you hit week 23.

He was lying in bed behind you, arms wrapped loosely around you as you forced him to watch criminal minds. His hands, as always, resting on your belly beneath your shirt.

Ever since you started bloating he was obsessed with your belly. Refusing to believe you when you insisted it wasn’t a baby bump yet but ever since you’d ‘popped’ he was relentless.

If you were in the same room as him his hands were on your belly. No matter where, no matter who was around, no matter what either of you were doing. He was touching the belly.

That night he was no different, thumb rubbing absent patterns as you openly thirsted over Spencer Reid, when he felt a thump against his hand.

“Eh what the fuck” he sat up in bed now, turning you over to you back and looking down at you in confusion as you chuckled at him.

“Your daughter’s saying hi Morgan, quite frankly you’re being very rude to her”

“She kicks now? When did that start happening? Why didn’t you tell me” Eyes wide with wonder as both hands slid under your shirt to touch your belly.

“I’ve been feeling it for a few weeks, she’s just not been strong enough for anyone else to feel it until now apparently. Must’ve been missing your voice - she’s still now”

You pulled up your top so you could see your belly, prodding where you’d felt her movement to see if you could get her moving again.

“She can’t hear us reader” Morgan laughed at you, thumbs rubbing the sides of your bump.

“She can Morgan, google it”

He shook his head in disbelief, still zoned in on your belly trying to get your daughter to move by sheer force of will.

After five minutes of no movement he admitted defeat, resting his cheek against your stomach.

“Little lady, daddy wants to feel you kick, show us your football skills come on” He whispered against your skin.

As if just to prove your point you felt the fluttering in your womb again, one look to Morgan you could tell he felt it too. His mouth was open in shock, eyes glossy as he let out a shaky laugh into you.

“So apparently she can hear us”

You rolled your eyes at him, hands finding home in his hair as he continued whispering to your baby girl, her replying with little thumps to his hands.

“I’m already her favourite” He smiled up at you smugly. You rolled your eyes and refocused on the telly, letting him have his time with his daughter.

The third trimester was awful. Everything hurt. Your boyfriend wouldn’t touch you because your bump was too in the way and he insisted he couldn’t shag you when ‘my baby is right there, reader’.

You were miserable.

When Morgan came downstairs and found you sobbing while clutching your baby’s heartbeat teddy, he was concerned to say the least.

“Darlin’, what’s the matter?” he said, dropping down beside you in a few strides, arms wrapping around you immediately.

“I really need a fruit pastille ice pop but we’ve not got any and the shops are all shut now,” you whined.

Fully aware you were being ridiculous. Fully aware you’d normally take the mick out of yourself for it. But you needed one. Your stomach genuinely ached with how badly you needed it.

Morgan bit his lip, trying not to laugh, knowing how sensitive you’d been during the final stretch.

“Oh darlin’, I’m sorry,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head and rubbing slow patterns down your arm.

“I can get you a mcflurry for tonight and ice pops in the morning?”

That only made you cry harder.

A mcflurry? That wasn’t a compromise. That wasn’t even close.

“How have I made it worse?” Morgan asked, helpless now. “What can I do, love? I’m a bit lost here.”

“Nothing can fix it, Morgan!” you sobbed. “It hurts. I need an ice pop.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic here, love,” he sighed, running a hand over his face. “There’s nothing I can do tonight.”

That was it.

A switch flipped.

You pushed his arms off you and stood, tears still falling.

“Well it’s your fucking fault, Morgan!” you snapped. “You’re the one who decided to get me pregnant! I’d be absolutely fine if it wasn’t for you!”

He froze.

Mouth slightly open. Hands half raised in surrender.

Not angry — just completely stunned.

Logically, he knew you didn’t mean it. But nothing in antenatal classes had prepared him for this version of you.

“Alright,” he said carefully, standing up too. “Sit down a second, darlin’.”

“I don’t want to sit down!” you snapped back, swiping at your face.

Your back ached worse now. Your hips were screaming. Everything hurt.

Morgan exhaled, then grabbed his keys.

“Where are you going?” you demanded.

“To get your fucking ice pop.”

“The shops are shut,” you muttered, sniffling.

He shrugged on his jacket anyway. “Then I’ll find one that isn’t. Sit down.”

An hour later, after a panicked call to both his mum and nan, Morgan came back in with three multipacks of ice lollies like he’d just completed a quest.

“I’m sorry for before, babe,” he said quietly, sitting beside you. “You’re doing so much growing our girl. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

He handed you the ice pop like it was the most important object in the world.

Your shoulders dropped instantly.

Relief first. Then guilt. Then calm.

Morgan kissed your temple, lingering there a second before, like he couldn’t help himself, he leaned down and kissed your bump too.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured. “Next time can you make your mum crave something she can get at, like, 2pm instead of midnight? She’s kind of scary when she’s hungry.”

A watery laugh slipped out of you.

“She’s going to be just like you, you know,” he added, smiling into your stomach. “I can already tell.”

“Fuck off, Morgan,” you said weakly, rolling your eyes. No heat in it this time, Just love.

For once the house was calm. Not just the false veil of silence before the chaos happens. Real peace and calm.

You were lying on the sofa with your feet up, belly on show as you tapped back against your daughter’s kicks.

Morgan was pacing the living room, eyes drifting to your hospital bags at the door every so often.

“You’re creating a draft, make yourself useful and rub my feet”. You put one foot in the air shaking it in your boyfriend’s direction.

With a roll of his eyes he sat down popping your legs in his lap and rubbing your feet as requested. His eyes still instinctively finding your bags, as if they’d suddenly disappear if he didn’t watch them.

“You’ve been doing that all day, she’s not coming for another week. You can relax babe”

Your voice had a teasing lilt in it, his nerves had been growing the closer you got to the end of your pregnancy. This week you’d started getting twinges and with every movement from you he was ready to throw you in the car.

“I know, I know” He muttered “just scared ya know?” He admitted looking up at you shyly.

“She’s not going anywhere yet” You reached down gesturing for him to hold your hand - your belly getting in the way of you being able to reach his - before placing his warm palm on your bump.

“See, still comfy”

“Don’t jinx it reader” he laughed up at you before leaning down to your belly.

“Right princess, just don’t come at 3am yeah? I don’t want to meet you half asleep” he mumbled into your skin, leaving a kiss when he’d finished speaking.

You snorted softly, shaking your head at your boyfriend.

Before long the house would never feel this calm or peaceful again. Your hand reached his hair fingers tugging out any knots.

In the quiet of night when he thought you were sound asleep beside him, Morgan would press his hand gently over your belly and whisper to her.

You never let him know you were awake for it.

Soft promises murmured into the dark — how he’d protect her, how he couldn’t wait to meet her, how he hoped she’d have your smile. Sometimes his voice would go thick with emotion, like the reality of her was almost too big to hold yet.

There was no doubt how loved your girl already was.

It was a chilled Saturday when your waters broke. The two of you were sat watching the football, well Morgan was watching it you were drinking your brew and mindlessly scrolling your phone as he watched and rubbed away the aches in of your legs.

The movies always made it seem so much more dramatic. There was no big gush of water, just increasing tight contractions in your stomach.

At first you brushed them off as just Brixton hicks, you’d been getting them more frequently the past few days. It was normal, or so the midwife said.

All you knew was it was uncomfortable.

And you needed this baby out, like two weeks ago.

You kept shifting on the sofa, trying to ease the pains. Breathing through them the way they showed you in that stupid antenatal class Morgan forced you into.

Another tightening had you sitting upright, hand clutching your stomach as you let out a pained noise.

Morgan’s head tilted to you, half his attention still on the match.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah” you muttered through your laboured breaths. “Just the braxton hicks again”

He increased the pressure of the movements on your calf, trying to comfort you.

Once it passed you relaxed back into the sofa again, picking your phone up and going back to your scrolling.

Five minutes later another wave rolled in, stronger this time.

You held your breath. Shoulders tensing as the pressure increased in your stomach and back.

Okay so that one felt different.

Morgan noticed your shift immediately - game forgotten his attention now solely focused on you. Even his hands stopped their comforting patterns on your legs.

“That looked worse” Big blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, panic seeping in.

Breathy pants filled the brief silence as you waited for the pain to wash over you.

“They’ve been bad today” you moaned, rubbing the bottom of your bump.

He opened his mouth to speak to you but another contraction hit before he could start his sentence.

It was the most intense one yet, you hunched forward one hand digging crescent marks into your thigh and the other holding your bump. Teeth clenched together as you did your breathing exercises. You don’t know what that woman was thinking but breathing did fuck all to ease this pain.

“That’s not braxton hicks is it, love?”

You couldn’t reply to him straight away, mind overtaken by the intense pressure pushing on your lower back and stomach.

“I don’t know” you exhaled slowly. Short pants escaping your lips.

You shifted to stand up, remembering the midwife telling you to trust your body and gravity. Also your back was killing.

As soon as you hobbled onto your feet you felt a warmth spread in your leggings. Sudden. Unmistakeable.

“So either I’ve fully lost control of my bladder or my waters have just broken” you deadpanned.

Morgan was on his feet in an instant. Eyes wide, hands carding through his hair.

“Shit. Right. car? Car”

“Right, calm down. It didn’t gush, definitely still leaking though” Your hands were held in front of him, as if they could push his panic back into his body. “And I’m not getting in our car with wet pants, come help me change”

He stared at you, panic and sheer awe in his eyes.

“Yeah okay. Whatever you say boss”

A laugh escaped you despite the seriousness. It was really happening. You were becoming proper grownups. His nervous laughter joined yours, filling the silence in the living room.

Quickly the laughter faded as another wave rocked you. Morgan standing straighter, arms hovering at your sides waiting for instructions.

You naturally hunched forward, clawing at his forearms as you waited for it to pass through you.

“Fuck that one hurt”

“Right hospital now? Please”

The midwives advice rolled through your head - early stage labour takes hours especially first time mothers, stay at home as long as possible to be more comfortable, the 5-1-1 rule.

“I think we’ve got time yet” You didn’t sound entirely convincing, to be honest you weren’t even convincing yourself at this point. “Just lemme change first”

You waddled your way to the staircase. When you first started having to waddle due to the size of your bump Morgan thought it was the cutest thing ever - especially when your lips formed the cutest pout while you did it, hands caressing your belly.

However watching you now he’d never been more anxious, he was hovering behind you. Convinced you were going to fall if he wasn’t there to catch you.

Another small trickle escaped as you made your way up the stairs, confirming your suspicions.

“Definitely not pee!” You cheered to your boyfriend.

“I didn’t think it was pee!” Eyes rolled in your direction.

Halfway up the staircase you had to stop, letting your top half fall forward gripping the stairs in front of you as another contraction hit. Every one getting even stronger and more painful than the last.

Sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead at the pain coursing through your body.

Instantly Morgans hand found your back, rubbing soothing patterns as your back arched.

“Thats it love” he murmured. “Just breathe”

“Don’t quote that fucking class to me right now Morgan” you snapped, head twisting to shoot daggers at him.

“Sorry” he was laughing softly, making you let out a weak laugh of your own. “No more quotes. Just appreciating you and your body. Don’t mind me back here”

Exhaustion hit immediately as the pain ebbed away. It felt like you’d been unplugged. Your nerves used it to ease their way into you, making a home in your chest.

“Morgan. She’s actually coming”

His expression softened, thumb continuing its ministrations on your lower back.

“Yeah. You’ve got this love, she’s got the best mummy in the world”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Helping you back to your feet and wobble the rest of the way upstairs, only having to stop twice as contractions crashed into you.

Once in the bedroom Morgan didn’t let you lift a finger, he eased of you soppy leggings. Freshened you up with a wet flannel before helping you into a pair of clean nickers (with a maternity pad on to, hopefully, stop you getting a second pair of wet trousers) and a pair of his joggers.

“Ready to do this?” His hands were in yours as the pair of you stood in the middle of your room. Soft smiles gracing each of your faces.

“I don’t think I have a choice now” you laughed.

Morgan squeezed your hands once before letting go, suddenly moving with purpose.

Bags were by the door. Car seat was installed, removed and then reinstalled repeatedly for the past month until he classed himself as a professional - it was still pride of place behind his seat in the car. Emotional support water bottle was in the fridge, it was technically there for you to take to bed but this seemed more important.

You watched him fondly, leaning against the dresser, as he got everything from the room. Chargers, toiletries now bagged, spare hoodie so you could steal the one his currently got on. He spun in a tight circle, mentally ticking everything off his list.

“Breathe” you teased.

He stilled, tuning towards you with his signature cheeky grin. “You don’t get to tell me to breathe”

Another contraction started building before you could reply. This was the worst one yet. Less like a tightening and more like your insides were being pulled from the inside out.

Morgan was at your side instantly, one hand on your hip the other cupping your face.

“You okay?”

All you could do was shake your head. Eyes screwed up, too much pain to speak.

You breathed out, swaying lightly on your feet as you let your body ride it out. The midwife said bodies natural instinct would take over and you were more than ready for that to happen. Now please.

“Thats it, baby” His thumbs stroked soothing patterns into your skin. “I’ve got you”

This contraction lasted longer than any of the others.

“This is horrible” You let yourself fall into him, he can hold up your weight for getting you in this position.

“Right we’re going” There was no argument in his tone.

You nodded against him. Yeah you were ready for this to be a distant memory now.

The walk to the car was surreal. The cold autumn air felt heavenly on your clammy skin as you made you way down the drive.

Everything around you was so normal. People going about their daily lives, walking their dogs, doing shopping, even going to work. How could your life be changing so monumentally when everything else was like it always had been?

As you reached the car door you had to lean your weight against it. Another pain surging through you. This one made you let out a low involuntary moan before you could stop it.

Morgan’s eyes widened, rushing to your side instantly. He was watching you carefully, trying to work out the rhythm, how he can best support you through this.

“See, you’re making it look easy” He kissed the side of your head as he opened the passenger door, helping you into your seat.

Slipping down onto the leather felt like a full Olympic sport. The protruding mass in your midsection, the pressure everywhere, your hips protesting every movement.

You’d barely buckled your seatbelt before another one hit, taking your breath away.

“Already” you ground out through gritted teeth.

Morgan was behind the wheel in record time.

“You alright?”

If looks could kill you’d have lost your ride to the hospital, and the nhs ambulance wait times are a joke so it’s a good thing you don’t have super powers.

“What do you think?” A beat. “Drive!”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. He definitely didn’t obey the speed limits getting you to the hospital.

His hand interlocked with yours across the centre console through the journey. Once he’d parked he turned slowly to you. Taking you in. Love and admiration gleaming in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, y’now”

“I haven’t even done anything yet” A soft smile graced your lips at the praise regardless.

“You’re bringing our girl into the world, that’s everything”

He leaned to kiss you, lips millimetres away before another contraction hit.

“She’s not letting me enjoy anything!” He laughed at you, quickly getting out of the car and making his way to your side.

The cool air once again felt heavenly as it hit your skin. People paid no attention to you, going about their business. Automatic doors opening and closing as patrons walked past.

Genuinely how is everything so normal but so life changing at the same time?

The door made a soft hiss as you stepped through. Overpowering smell of antiseptic burning your nostrils almost instantly, fluorescent lights hurting your eyes and why is there always a bloody machine beeping at ungodly decibels?

The receptionist couldn’t look more fed up. Overly glossy lips smacked together as she spoke - to the woman next to her. Not you, obviously.

“Erm excuse me” Morgan interrupted her, voice clipped. She tore her eyes up from her nails and you were blessed with her disinterested gaze.

“How can I help?” Saccharine smile pointed at your boyfriend as you were hunched to the side of him.

“Yeah my girlfriends in labour, her waters are leaking”

“Mhm. Did you call ahead to tell the midwives to expect her?” The clack of her keyboard was going straight through you.

“Erm no, her waters broke and the first thing on my mind wasn’t to make phone calls” Morgan replied irritation seeping into his tone at her professionalism

“Right” More clacking. No urgency. Just acrylic against plastic. “How long has she been in active labour?”

“I didn’t have a chance to get my stopwatch out funnily enough”

Before she could reply your hands banged against the counter as another contraction smashed into you. A pained groan escaping you as your body rocked due to the increasing pressure in your pelvis.

Morgan instinctively moved closer, one hand firm on the base of your back. Grounding you.

That got the receptionists attention. Her eyes widening as she took you in.

“Right… give me two seconds I’ll go get a midwife” The smile long gone as she scattered off.

You’d find it funny if you weren’t in so much pain, hopefully you remember this part of labour and not the agony.

You’d barely recovered before the doors reopened and a woman in blue scrubs came through them, the receptionist following sheepishly behind, moving quickly towards you.

A welcoming smile on her face. Blue scrubs on her frame. Hair in a tight bun atop her head. Calm eyes. Clearly seasoned in panicked twenty something year old teenagers creating new life.

“Right my lovely, why don’t you follow me and we’ll try get you abit more comfy?”

A weight you didn’t know you were carrying left you as she spoke. She was speaking to you, not about you, not about the baby. Like you were a real person not just a baby carrying vessel.

Embarrassingly you felt yourself water up. You simply nodded at her, letting her show you the way. Morgan following quickly behind you with your bags in hand.

“My names Addie by the way. I’m one of the senior midwives. You’ll have a student as well but she’s on break at the moment” A smile was shot your way as you continued your walk. “Sorry about the walk, unfortunately you’re at the bottom of this corridor, lovely”

Every step felt heavier. Pressure sitting low in your pelvis, feeling like your insides were being tugged on.

Halfway down the corridor you stopped dead. Hands bracing the wall, swaying on the balls of your feet as you folded in on yourself.

“Fucking hell”

There was no easing into them anymore. Just intense, all consuming pain.

“Thats it” Addie comforted. “Your body knows what to do, don’t try and fight it”

Morgan hovered at your side. Ready to jump into action at any moment. Also feeling really useless and guilty his actions have put you in so much pain. One hand rubbing frantic circles into your back.

“You’re doing so good, love” he whispered to you, almost scared to break the fragile silence.

“Right now how far apart are these contractions?” The midwife asked, gaze still focused on you as you swayed through the pain.

“Like… maybe every two minutes?” Morgan replied instantly. Addie nodded.

The last few steps to the room felt like an eternity, but eventually you made it into the room. Blessedly the lights weren’t as sharp in the small room. There was still a beeping monitor. Also a bed, thank god.

Morgan helped you hop onto the bed, easing yourself to lie back and attempt to relax. You could feel more fluid trickle out as you adjusted your position.

“Okay, I’m just going to have a little check see how dilated you are, okay?” She got a clipped nod in reply.

Pants off, knees spread to the side and a woman you’d just met knuckles deep inside off you.

Child birth was truly humbling.

The examination was intrusive and uncomfortable. Pressure increasing as she checked you over.

When she was finished she looked to you with a kind smile.

“Well mum, no wonder you’re feeling it!”

Clearly your face did your speaking for you as she let out a short chuckle.

“You’re six centimetres dilated”

“Is that… good?” Morgan questioned, his hand in a vice grip by yours.

“That’s very good” Addie laughed. “Means you’re in proper labour”

The words caused a worrying concoction of relief and terror to swirl inside of you.

This wasn’t early labour anymore. This was real. You were almost a mum. Morgan was almost a dad. You’d never go back to your house as just reader and Morgan.

Another surge crashed into you before you could process it. A cry ripped from your throat as your free hand clawed into Morgan’s forearm.

“Ouch”

A glare came from both you and Addie.

“No that’s fair” His hand scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Quite happy to sacrifice my arm, literally rip it off if you need”

Another contraction hit before you could reply.

“Oh god. Fuck me” You felt it coming that time. Deep pressure rolling through your body.

Your breathing hitched as panic over took your features. Addie must’ve clocked it because like a guardian angel she was at your side handing you a mouth piece.

“This is gas and air” She explained, fiddling with some knobs on the wall. “It’ll help with the pain, don’t wait for it to get bad - breathe in with the contractions”

Yeah easy for you to say. You don’t have a beast trying to tear its way from your vagina Addie.

The pain slammed into you again. Instinctively you sucked hard on the mouth piece.

It wasn’t immediate relief, more so making your brain foggy so the pain wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.

Floaty. Still there. Just distant.

“Ohhhh” you blinked at Morgan, then Addie, then back to Morgan. “This is like when we decided to try that spliff at prom afters”

Morgan barked out a laugh. Addie grinned at you. You took in another breath.

“This is heavenly” Your eyes were half closed, You leaned further into the subpar hospital pillows. “Why doesn’t everyone live like this”

Your boyfriend shook his head, smile glued to his face. “They do, love.” He gave your hand a soft squeeze.

Your entire body curled forward, contraction hitting like a fraught train. This one dragged on, low pressure settling deep in your pelvis.

A groan escaped you - involuntary and uncontrollable.

His smile faded instantly. You barely noticed. Your body was working without permission now, hips rocking, knees shifting against the stiff mattress.

Addie watched carefully.

“Feeling pressure down below?”

You nodded quickly, pulling the gas and air away from your mouth.

“Honestly feels like I’m going to have the biggest shit of my life”

Morgan looked both traumatised and constipated at the force of withheld laughter.

Addie’s laugh broke the silence.

“Thats perfect, means baby’s moving down nicely”

When the next contraction hit your fist balled in his hoodie, pulling him down to you. Panting sharp breaths into his face.

Your sounds were coming out lower now, you didn’t recognise them as your own. They were almost primal.

Minutes stretched on. Time didn’t feel real anymore. Nothing existed outside of the pain you were feeling.

Sweat clung to your skin, wispy hairs curling along your forehead.

At some point Morgan ended up sat on the bed next to you, your full weight leaned into his side as he petted your damp hair gently.

He didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare speak.

Just stayed there. Steady constant at your side, whispering encouragements lowly into your hair as each contraction came.

Addie checked the monitor before turning towards you.

“I think we’ll be meeting baby sooner than expected” she smiled.

Both your heads snapped in her direction. Faces blank.

“Soon as in… today?” You whispered.

“Soon as in I’m going to start preparing the delivery room, I’ll get the student to take over while I get everything sorted” Another comforting smile to you both.

Your stomach was doing backflips. How was this happening? You’d just wrapped your head around being pregnant and now this?

Another contraction hit without warning, knocking the air from your lungs before you could grab the gas and air.

“Holy fucking shit”

Your body folded forward instinctively, fingers clutching Morgan’s arm aggressively as deep pressure surged through your pelvis.

Not exactly pain. Just unrelenting pressure.

“I can’t” you moaned. “Feels like I need to push”

Morgan’s head snapped up, panic instantly returning to his chest.

“Is she allowed to push? Is pushing good? Are we pushing now?” He rattled off as Addie slipped from the room, a younger woman taking her place.

She was wearing the purple students dress. Large smile on her face, eyes kind and understanding.

“Hello mum, dad” A gentle silence as she slipped on the latex gloves. “I’m Georgia, is it alright if I have a wee look?”

You barely registered her introduction. Body surviving on pure instinct as you nodded along to whatever she said. Gas and air back to your lips.

Breath in. Breath out. Relax… Attempt to relax. Repeat.

Your hips lifted off the bed without permission, Georgias eyes widening slightly as she examined you.

“Okay, don’t panic..”

“Why aren’t we panicking” Your boyfriend was quick to reply.

“Babies head is very low” she said calmly, movements steadily quickening as she removed her gloves and reached behind your bed to the call bell.

“Low as in coming?” Morgan was ghost white, truly living up to every ginger stereotype.

“Yes dad, coming” Her smile was reassuring as she turned back towards you both.

Your heart was pounding. Coming. Jesus.

Another contraction seized, this time your body pushing before you could control it.

A guttural sound escaped you.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright, I got you” Your hands were in his again.

“I can’t do it” You were fully crying now, head burying to his shoulder.

“Yes you can, love” No hesitation. “You’ve done so well through all of this. I’m just lucky enough you chose me to do it with”.

The door burst open again. Addie entering full of purpose, but her calm aura still oozed around the room.

“Well done mum!” She praised, settling between your legs at the bottom of the bed. “Looks like little miss didn’t fancy waiting”

Your legs were gently guided apart as Addie transformed the bed below you. Sections moving and lowering beneath your weight.

Georgia transformed the small space around you, lights adjusted, equipment being wheeled closer. Practiced and efficient.

Morgan was still poised at your side. One arm stretched around you, holding your weight the other in your death grip.

Another contraction built. Heavier. Stronger.

You pushed again involuntarily, gritting your teeth as your nails dug into Morgan’s hand.

“That’s it, lovely!” Addie encouraged. “When the next contraction hits push down into your bottom”

“You’re really asking me to shit myself in a room full of people?” You laughed weakly between breaths.

Morgan let out a shaky laugh from beside you.

“That means you’re doing it right” Addie grinned from between your legs.

“Plus we’ve seen much worse! Remember the food poisoning outbreak a few months ago?” Georgia chuckled, aiming her question to the senior midwife.

Instinct took over, you were gripping Morgan with all your strength. Chin tucked deep into your chest as you pushed.

Everything felt focused on your efforts. Heat grew in the confined space, your laboured breathing almost echoing back at you.

Morgan watched you in awe. Completely coming undone at your sheer strength and determination.

“I can see her hair” Addie called up to you.

Morgan’s eyes shot down before he could stop himself, your head lifting up.

“Is she ginger?”

The three others in the room laughed softly at you. To you it seemed like the most important question in the world.

Georgia sent a small nod to you, eyes softening as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“She’s real, reader” His own eyes were filling up. “She’s right there”

The words fuelled something deep inside of you. Pushing with all your might as the next contraction hit.

Pressure burned - intense, stretching, indescribable pain.

“I’m never having sex again” You cried, gasping for air.

“We’ll revisit that idea later maybe?” Morgan tested from your side, earning a sharp glare.

“One more just like that one lovely” Addie encouraged you.

Everything around you faded. There was just pressure, pain, immeasurable effort.

The contraction held you in place. Stretching further than you ever thought your body capable of.

“That’s her head crowning” Georgia informed you.

“You’re doing so well, lovely. Just pant for me now yeah?”

Pant? You stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Your body was telling you to push and you had no control to stop it.

Morgan pressed his forehead to yours. Calm and comforting.

“Look at me yeah, you got this. Just breathe with me? Well do it together yeah?”

You nodded against him, matching his pattern. In and out. Short quick breaths.

“Thats it” Addie cheered. “Your body’s doing all the work for you now, lovely”

You felt the burning ease slightly, just strong pressure remaining as your daughter was now halfway into the world.

“I can see her” Morgan whispered from beside you. “Shes got so much hair”

Tears were freely failing down his face, his grip tightening slightly on you.

Another contraction hit you and your body pushed on instinct.

“One more push and she’s here mum!” Georgia grinned at you.

Your body worked on its own. A cry ripping from your chest as you used up the last of your strength, weight fully rested on Morgan now.

Then you felt an overwhelming relief and a rush of warmth.

A loud wet cry filled the room.

You collapsed against the pillows as another cry echoed. Chest heaving, completely dazed.

Morgan was completely frozen beside you. Not moving. Not breathing. Just staring.

“Hello sweetheart” Addie cooed as she came towards you with your now loosely wrapped up baby.

She gently placed the bundle on your chest. Warm, heavy, perfect.

For a second you didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t quite understand what had just happened. The room was still loud machines beeping, voices moving around you but it all sounded distant, like you were underwater.

Nine months of waiting. Weeks of discomfort. Hours of pain. Endless panicked 3am call to your in-laws and mum friends.

And suddenly she was here. Your daughter. A very real weight against your chest, not a future possibility.

Your hands came up slowly, almost hesitant, settling over her tiny back as if you were afraid she might disappear if you touched her too quickly. Her skin was butter soft, damp copper curls pressed against her head, little chest fluttering rapidly against yours.

She quieted the moment she felt you, like she knew.

A broken sound left your throat, half laugh half sob, as the weight of it crashed over you. Every kick, every sleepless night, every whispered conversation Morgan thought you hadn’t heard… it had all led to this.

You pressed your cheek to her head, breathing her in without thinking, tears slipping sideways into your hair.

“Hi,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Hi baby, I’m your mummy”

You tore your eyes away from her just long enough to look at Morgan. The same man who whispered to your stomach in the dark now stood staring at his daughter like she’d hung the stars themselves.

“That’s our baby” Like reality had just hit him, Morgan leaned down to his girls. Small sob escaping as his hand hovered above your daughter’s back, as if he was scared she’d break at his touch alone.

“I’ve never been more in love with you than I am right now”

Your daughter wiggled and let out a soft whine between you, already annoyed with not being the centre of attention.

“Hello gorgeous girl” Morgan cooed down to her, gentle hand now rested against her back. “What’s wrong with you eh?”

You let out a weak laugh, exhaustion settling deep into your bones as adrenaline slowly drained from your body. Every muscle felt loose, heavy, disconnected.

“She’s angry already,” you murmured, voice rough. “Definitely yours.”

Morgan huffed a teary laugh, eyes never leaving her tiny face. His thumb brushed carefully along her cheek, disbelieving.

“No chance,” he whispered. “She’s got your attitude written all over her.”

Your daughter let out another indignant squeak, fists curling against your chest as if proving his point. Your eyes met, both letting out watery laughs.

“Right dad” Addie’s voice burst your little bubble. “Do you want to cut the cord?”

Morgan blinked towards her, pointing to himself as if there was anyone else she could’ve been speaking to. She nodded at him with a soft smile.

“It won’t hurt her will it?” He asked, taking the scissors from her hand.

“No, she can’t feel a thing, pet” A gentle reassuring smile on her face.

He nodded, hands shaking as he placed the scissors between the two clamps. Once they’d snipped through he stared at them like they held the secrets to the universe.

“I cut her cord” he whispered. Awe seeping through his voice.

“Yes you did, dad” you laughed at him softly.

He leaned his forehead down to yours, hand falling onto your babies back again. Rubbing soothing circles with his thumb like he’d always done to you.

“Shes perfect” He whispered, not daring to break the moment around you.

“She looks just like you” your tone matching his.

A few hours later you’d slept, showered all that labour sweat and birth gunk off and felt like a new woman. You were a new woman. You were somebodies mum.

Seeing Morgan cradling your baby girl against his chest made you feel a whole new type of love for him you never thought possible.

“She needs a name love, can’t keep calling her baby girl forever” Morgan’s voice was low as he rocked said baby girl in his arms.

“My favourite is still Matilda, little baby Tilly” You were lying in bed, eyes tracing Morgan’s movements.

He moved to sit beside you on the bed, holding your daughter out so you could both see her. You moved so your head was resting against his arm, one hand moving to stroke her squishy little cheek.

“Yeah, she looks like a Tilly doesn’t she?” Morgan agreed.

“Honestly watching you go through that amount of pain and being completely helpless you could call her kettle and I’d say it’s the best name ever” he laughed, placing a soft kiss on your head.

You looked up at him, pure love shining in your eyes.

“Definitely going to stick to Tilly and not kettle if that’s alright with you?” Your soft laugh joined his.